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schrijverr · 4 years ago

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Take the New Texas out of a boy

Jonny still carries a lot of internalized biases and prejudices against himself from growing up in New Texas, which wasn’t progressive. Aboard the Aurora he undergoes a journey of self-discovery in a safe space.

This started as ‘Ooh, wait! What if Jonny wears a corset’ and it somehow ended up as ‘Jonny deals with internalized homophobia, internalized misogyny and self esteem issues, figures out his gender expression, which finally leads to a Jonny centric polycule’

On AO3

Ships: Jonny/ Tim, Ashes, Marius and Brian, but the focus ismore focused on the frienship between Jonny & Ashes & Tim while he discovers himself

Wanrings: homophobia, internalized homophobia, internalized misogyny and self esteem issues. Tell me if I missed anything else!

~~~~~~~~~~~

New Texas was many things, well that was not true, New Texas was barely anything at all really, but one of the things that it most certainly wasn’t, was progressive.

The backwater asteroid that claimed to be a planet with potential for life was nothing, but filled with rot and people who would never be more than the dust on their clothes and the smoke in their lungs, who would rather see you dead for being different.

Jonny had never fit in there.

He’d always known he was different, as cliché as that might seem. He wanted more than getting drunk in a casino, playing away his last bit of money so that he could forever be enslaved by the casino boss to become a killer for hire.

That wasn’t for him. He did it out of necessity, but it wasn’t the end goal. Once he would have enough, he would get out of there. He hadn’t figured out how or to where, but he would not rot between these people.

The first moment he’d realized that, was when Henry from the mill had been hung on top of his own propellers. He’d heard that they’d found out he’d tried to pay another man for services, if you knew what they were saying. Apparently it hadn’t gone over well with the other guy.

Jonny had seen the man hanging there, swaying in the wind and a fear had gripped his heart.

You see, just the day before Jonny had been trying to come up with a good way to tell Ronny that he thought he was pretty, well, pretty. He didn’t know why the other boy got his heart racing, but he did and Jonny, being a naive youngster, wanted to do something about it.

Henrys death had quickly discouraged him from that. He still wanted to hold Ronnys hand, but it wasn’t worth dying over and when he’d started to pay attention to his fathers drunken rambling afterwards, he knew who would be the first to do him in for that.

So, he resolved to get out of there to a place where he could hold Ronnys hand if he wanted to. He knew it was probably futile, but it was a dream he clung to when things got too hard.

His resolve strengthened after he sold his life to Jack and his famous casino.

Jacks casino was famous not only because it was the only one in town, but also because Jack had show girls. The only ones there were no other bar where you could see them, Jack made sure of that, they were good for business after all.

They would be decked out with feathers, fishnets, tiny slips and corsets all on high heels. And Jonny adored them. Whenever he would need to be in Jacks casino, whether it was to deliver something or to get new orders, he would stare dreamily at them dancing.

Most of the patrons made fun of him for being in love with the show girls and Jonny would tell them to piss off, pretending they knew the truth.

The real truth was that Jonny wasn’t in love with them. No, they couldn’t be further away from his type. He was, however, in love with their outfits.

He dreamed of how the fishnets would hug his legs and how the corset would make him delicate and how whoever saw him would be taken aback by his beauty like the men in the casino were with the show girls.

Jonny knew that was a futile dream.

He’d heard from many different mouths that he wasn’t really appealing to look at and he was also slowly resigning himself to being stuck on New Texas forever, the idea of getting away only further out of reach with each passing day.

But with the arrival of a Doctor that idea suddenly seemed so weird.

She took him with her, but with how she twisted him and made him into her puppet there wasn’t really time to explore his newfound freedom away from home.

He tried to fight against every new member, but it wasn’t enough. She never stopped until he got rid of her, not that he’ll ever admit it was him. And he could never forget her either.

By the time she was gone a status quo had arisen on board of the Aurora. Jonny had automatically situated himself in a position from where he could fight. He was the though one, the first one, the one who would take the blows. Effectively shutting himself off from any chance to be dainty or delicate.

His new friends were more accepting, though. Ashes was respected, no questions asked, Nastya was allowed to be herself with her girlfriend and any comment made by the others about hot people of the opposite gender, were barely even blinked at.

Jonnys heart felt lighter with that, although he would always catch himself before he could say something. The fear of a lifetime still deeply ingrained in his mind.

After a few centuries the others had picked up on it and Ashes had laughed: “Hey, Jonny, it’s not a crime to be straight. If you’re feeling too awkward to comment, ‘cause of us, feel free. Don’t worry. Marius is also allowed to make comments about girls as well as the blokes.”

“Uh, what? No- huh, I don’t- I’m not-” Jonny had cleverly responded, so taken aback by it.

“Oh that’s okay too, Jonny.” Tim had smiled at him and it wasn’t mentioned again.

Jonny was glad no one expected anything of him, even if he felt guilty about pretending to be someone he was not. But he’d done it his entire life, what were a few millennia more?

But then he got more comfortable over the course of time and after a while the lie weighed too heavily on him, so he’d awkwardly called together the crew. Most of them were raising his brow at him and when he’d struggled for a couple of minutes, Ashes said: “Just spit it out, man.”

He took a deep breath: “I’m not, uhm, I’m not aroace. I’m g- I’m gay…” he rushed to add: “I’m sorry I know I should’ve said it when you all assumed, but I just didn’t- I couldn’t and then it was too late and it was nice to not have expectations, but then I felt bad and I really did want to tell you, but it never seemed to be the time and-”

“Breathe, Jonny.” he got interrupted by Brian, “It’s alright.”

“Really?” Jonny asked, still a bit fearful.

“Yeah,” Tim smiled and cheered, “one of us!”

Ashes pushed him over and said: “Already was, dumbass.”

“I know, but I meant it as one of me and Brian, you know.” Tim agreed.

“We shouldn’t have assumed, god knows us of all people shouldn’t have and you shouldn't feel guilty about waiting until you were ready.” Brian told Jonny with a gentle smile.

Carefully Jonny smiled back and was promptly tackled into a hug from Marius and Raphaella, who had snuck up behind him. Laughing while taking him down to the ground.

After that life continued as normal. The first time Jonny had made a comment about a guy, he’d looked around with fear, only relaxing when Tim smirked: “Well spotted! You should go up to him.”

Jonny had frantically shaken his head. Just making the comment had been scary enough, the idea of actually putting himself out there with people he didn’t know was too much.

“Okay, no problem.” Tim assured him quickly, “Do you mind if I do?”

“No, go ahead.” Jonny had squeaked, watching as Tim chatted the guy up and moments later disappeared with a wink over his shoulder.

A bit of jealousy crept over Jonnys spine and he didn’t know what he was more jealous off. The fact that Tim would be getting laid or the fact that Tim had the confidence to walk up to someone like that while knowing he could get murdered for it.

They couldn't die, of course. Jonny knew that, but the fear was still there and he didn’t think his heart could take it, despite the strong metal it was made of.

As the years passed he got more comfortable, however, until he could flirt like he’d always wanted to when he watched men at the casino try to get a free drink from the bartender with the tiny low cut shirt and the red lipped smirk.

But while he was living one of his dreams, there still was another he kept hidden.

His mind often wondered back to the show girls with their corsets, especially when he saw a dolled up boy on a planet they were visiting or dancers, like back home, in a club. His fingers would itch to try for himself, but he couldn’t.

Jonny d’Ville was a macho man.

He liked violence and weapons, he swore like, well, like a sailor. He was masculine and tried to project that as much as possible. It was a defense, he knew it was, but he didn’t know how he could break that wall down.

Still, he allowed a wistful gaze to linger on display windows, but only after checking if no one could see.

It was doomed to fail, since everyone aboard the Aurora was much more observant than Jonny gave them credit for, so after years of catching Jonny staring out of the corner of his eye on a thousand different planets, Tim commented: “You can steal it if you like it, or buy it.”

Immediately Jonny stiffened, before snapping: “What are you on about, Tim? You think I fucking want that?”

“Well, why else would you be staring at them like they’re your star-crossed lover.” Tim rolled his eyes.

He didn’t see the shot coming, but he did hear and feel it as he collapsed to the ground, only coming to a bit later, slung over Brians shoulder with Jonny nowhere in sight. Tim knew better than to mention it again and life went on. Jonny pointedly never looking at the displays, no matter how much he wanted to.

But even if Tim never mentioned it, he did not let it go. He himself had always regretted never shooting his shot with Bertie and he used this life to never pass up again. Jonny deserved the same even if it was about something different.

So when they were planetside again, he went looking. It had to be something subtle, something believable.

At the end of the day he returned to the ship and loudly exclaimed: “Everyone gather around, here, here, come on.”

“What is it, Tim.” Ashes called out from the kitchen, where they were making themself a drink.

“I shoplifted a bunch of stuff, not really looking, just shoving shit in pockets, you know. I already filtered out what I liked, so now you can fight over the rest.” Tim explained.

“Bold of you to assume we like the same things.” Ashes replied.

“I just told you it was random, there could be stuff you like. And I have impeccable taste!” Tim defended himself.

The rest of the crew had gathered around the table where Tim had dumped a pile of stuff. Jonny was already rooting around in it and Tim waited until he had found it. Bingo, he thought when he saw Jonnys eyes light up as he pulled the gigantic belt from the pile.

He held it up to inspect it, it was brown leather a good 6 inches broad with a big golden buckle, exactly something Jonny would like and the others wouldn’t and it was something that could subtly function like a thing such as a corset, making a figure appear more feminine.

Ashes saw it and joked: “I don’t think that’s your size, Jonny.”

“Yes, it is. Fuck you.” Jonny shot them a glare.

The others were now looking as well and Marius commented: “Are you sure this was all random, Tim? That is too much Jonny to be coincidence.”

Jonnys glare now became suspicious as he turned to Tim. Tim held up his hands and said: “I swear, really. I probably took it because it was shiny.”

“Magpie.” Jonny teased.

“Like you’re one to talk.” Tim stuck out his tongue. Jonny did the same, before shoving the belt in his pocket for as much as that was possible and diving back into the pile.

Once the pile had disappeared into the hands of the crew, they set to drinking together.

The next day when all had awoken en slept off the hangover, Tim saw Jonny again. The First Mate was shooting at an octokitten, but that wasn’t important. What was important was that he was wearing the belt. It was a sitting around his waist, a bit higher than normal and it seemed like it had been pulled a hole too tight.

Tim smirked and congratulated himself on the success.

He then went to attack Jonny and save the octokitten from Jonnys violence, because even if he was sure that the critter had probably earned it, it didn’t deserve it.

After that the belt became every day attire for Jonny, so with that in mind Tim set to the next part of his plan. He again snuck off when they were on a planet, he thought Ashes was feeling the need to burn something and Nastya didn’t want that on her precious Aurora.

Coming back he again called everyone together and loudly proclaimed: “I robbed a jewelry store.”

“Since when are you such a thief? This is the second time already.” Marius asked him.

Tim shrugged: “There isn’t much else to do and I thought why not take it before it gets burned, you know. It’s a pity to let it go to waste.”

He looked back and saw Jonny poking the pile with a mixed expression on his face, like he wanted to take it, but wasn’t sure if that would be okay to do.

The others had already grabbed the few things they liked, so Tim decided it was fine before he said: “Just take them, Jonny. They’re going to be in the way otherwise and I’m sure your collection of useless shiny things is far from complete.”

Jonny looked like he was going to protest, before he deflated and grabbed all the leftover jewelry and grumbled: “It isn’t useless.”

Then it was playing the waiting game again.

It took a few weeks, but finally Jonny arrived with a few bracelets dangling around his wrist and a blush high on his face as he tried to hide them and cringed every time they clanked together.

Later he was wearing a chain around his neck and a while after that he’d filled up the holes Tim hadn’t realized were in his ears. He couldn’t know Jonny had pierced them himself just for this, of course.

Tim made sure to complement him each time he saw a piece of jewelry. The first few times Jonny had given him a wary look, but Tim had tried his best to look earnest and now he’d gotten to the point where Jonny would come up to him to show him the jewelry.

When that became normal, he waited a few more days, before laying down on the opposite couch and sighing: “I wish I could paint my nails.”

From the corner of his eyes he saw Jonny perk up, then the fake uninterested reply came: “Why can’t you?”

“I don’t wanna do it alone.” Tim pouted, “And Brian doesn’t have nails, not really, same goes for The Toy Soldier. Ashes, Ivy and Nastya don’t like me enough. I don’t trust Marius not to psychoanalyze me over it and Raphaella will turn it into some sort of experiment.”

After a beat of silence Jonny said: “You didn’t name me.”

And now came the important part. Tim sat up with a grin and concurred: “Exactly, I didn’t.”

Jonny seemed to realize what he was implying and shot up saying: “No, I’m not doing that. Don’t involve me in your dumb wishes.”

Mentally Tim rolled his eyes at Jonny, but externally he pouted: “Please, Jonny. I don’t wanna do it alone and you’re the only one who I can trust, please. I promise I’ll try my best. You can even pick a color.”

Jonny bit his lip while he thought about it. He didn’t have to think long, already having decided that this was too good of an opportunity to pass him by, and agreed: “Fine, but you so owe me after this.”

Tim cheered, before getting his stuff.

When he returned Jonny had slid off the couch and was sitting next to the small table waiting for him. He smiled at Jonny and put his nail polishes in a row, letting Jonny pick a color.

He picked black and Tim snorted. Getting defensive, Jonny snapped: “What?”

“Nothing, just expected that already.” Tim said, grabbing the silver bottle for himself and setting the rest aside.

Taking Jonnys hand, Jonny asked him: “Aren’t we doing your hands first?”

Tim shook his head: “No, you need to see how to do it first before I allow you to potentially fuck up my nails.”

“Hey, who says I’m gonna fuck it up.” Jonny exclaimed indignantly.

“Me, because you’re already not paying attention.” Tim told him.

Jonny snapped his gaze back to Tim, who had already started painting Jonnys nails. The First Mate had kept his hands still despite the protesting, something Tim found quite funny.

Soon Jonnys first coat was dry and it was his turn to try and paint Tims hands.

Tim had to fight to keep the smile at bay as he watched Jonnys brow furrow in concentration and his tongue poke out while he carefully painted Tims nails. They weren’t the best, but definitely good for a beginner. Tim told him that, not missing the small blush that appeared.

Tim was fully expecting the nail polish to be gone the next day, but to his surprise Jonny still had black nails during breakfast. Ashes saw them and commented: “Nice nails.”

Jonny froze for a second, then he replied: “Uh, thanks, Tim did them.”

“Yeah, I didn’t want to do mine alone, so I roped Jonny into it. Look!” Tim inserted himself into the conversation and showed off his nails as well.

They got some more complements and Jonny relaxed further. The nail polished stayed on until it was completely chipped away.

Up until then, Tim had acted alone in gently forcing Jonny to explore his more feminine side, but for his next part he needed help. So he went to Raphaella.

“Oh, hi Tim! What can I do for you?” she asked, removing her science goggles and setting aside her flame thrower.

“I was just wondering if something was true and since you’re our Science Officer, I thought you would be the best person to ask.” Tim told her, watching her light up at the word ‘science’.

“What is it? What is it?” she asked excitedly.

“Well, you know how some of these planets have these stupid gender rules?” Tim asked.

Raphaella nodded and he went on: “So, I was wondering how much truth there was to the heel thing, because it doesn’t seem that hard to walk on heels, but they’re out there pretending it’s only women who can do it, but I don’t know how to test that.”

Clapping her hands excitedly, she said: “Oh, I know how we can test that. It won’t be a big sample size, but Nastya and Ivy have never walked on heels, so we could pit them against two of the boys. Hm, Brian wouldn’t be a good fit and Marius has one heavier side, so it would be you and Jonny. Oh, this is going to be fun!”

“Nice, I knew I could count on you, Raph.” Tim said, “So, what do we need?”

Tapping her chin Raphaella listed: “Heels in the right sizes, all the same height too, a course to walk and, of course, willing participants.”

“I do the heels and course, you the participants?” Tim asked.

“Sounds good.” Raphaella answered.

Tim got the right parts for the course and the heels, you don’t want to know how he knew which sizes he needed, but he got them pretty easily. It was Raphaella, who was having trouble with her part.

“No, I’m not walking on fucking heels, because you’re some weirdo with some sort of shit experiment.” Jonny seethed.

“Please, Jonny.” Raphaella asked again, “Nastya, Ivy and Tim already agreed and Ashes has already put up a betting pool.”

“They did what?” Jonny shrieked.

“A betting pool. Most money is on you going flat on your face within five steps.” Raphaella told him, let it be known that Raphaella could be manipulative and she wasn’t afraid to use Jonny competitive streak against him.

“Oh that absolute asshole.” Jonny groused, “Fine, I’ll do it. Tell Ashes I want money on me being the best.”

Raphaella smiled cheerily, before skipping away with an: “I will!”

The next day their time had come. The four of the were standing at the starting line, Raphaella had a clipboard in her hands and the rest was cheering them on or trash-talking them.

It was a simple course, walk 20 feet, go down 6 steps then zigzag between four cones.

They hadn’t been allowed to practice and had to put on the heels right at the start. It was alright just standing, but Tim dreaded having to walk. Jonny was so going to owe him so hard after he told him how much he’d done for the guy.

Speaking of Jonny, he glanced over to him. Jonny had a determined look on his face, but his gaze also flicker down from time to time always softening as he admired the sleek black heels with a look of wonder and a small smile.

The signal was given and they were off.

Nastya faired pretty well, she’d been royalty and a certain amount of grace had been needed for that, Ivy on the other hand was struggling. She loved to be with her books, usually walking around barefoot so that she could feel it when she’d accidentally stepped on one.

Tim also wasn’t doing much better, his arms had turned into propellers as he wobbled and shook, he was almost certain he would not be surviving the stairs.

Next to him, Jonny was actually doing very well. No one knew that the First Mate would walk around on this tip toes, pretending to have heels on just to know what it would feel like and the force of knowing that doing good would piss Ashes off kept him walking with a straight back and minimal amounts of stumbling.

In the end both Tim and Ivy fell down the steps. Ivy broke her neck and was out of the race and Tims heel had broken off, so he’d hopped the last part.

Nastya and Jonny finished around the same time, both collapsing on the couch when they were done. Nastya immediately kicked off her heels, but Jonny kept them on, throwing his feet on the table to turn back and laugh at Tim.

Once everyone was alive and well. Raphaella came with the verdict: “It seems like gender rules around heels are baseless according to our findings here, of course, if we really wanted more concrete answers we would need to do a bigger experiment with more people, but we since we can’t really do that this will have to do.”

“Was that what this was about?” Ashes asked, “We all already knew that gender rules were stupid, no need to fucking test that.”

“It was more curiosity and personal amusement, although that didn’t really work in my favor.” Tim told them.

He got an eyeroll from them, but they seemed to find his answer acceptable. They instead turned to Jonny and asked: “Are they glued to your feet or something?”

Jonny cracked open and eyes and looked down, blushing when they saw the heels and quickly saying: “Oh, I totally forgot.”

He was about to pull them off, when Tim said: “I bet my caliber 14 laser rifle you can’t function an entire day in heels.”

His hands stilling, Jonny gave him a look and asked: “What if I loose?”

“If you loose I want the goggles you stole from Hermes, don’t lie and say you don’t have them.” Tim answered, demanding something with high enough stakes that Jonny wouldn’t call bluff, but not high enough he wouldn’t take it.

“Deal.” Jonny said, hands retreating.

“I bet he gives up after an hour.” Marius called out.

“Yeah, me too.” Nastya agreed.

“Hm, I think he can make it through the day.” Ivy mused and Brian agreed: “Yeah, I also believe he can do it.”

Ashes got up and grinned: “Wait, I’ll write the bets down.”

Tim rolled his eyes, nothing to get the crew moving than a few bets. It didn’t matter that most stuff was practically shared and that they never spend money, instead robbing stores if they wanted something.

After a while the excitement had died down and it was just Tim and Jonny together. Tim needed to keep an eye on Jonny to see if he didn’t cheat after all.

“You can’t just sit there and look at your feet the entire day, that’s also cheating.” Tim broke the silence.

Jonnys head snapped up from where he was admiring at the heels. He covered up the fact that he got startled when Tim had called him out, by crossing his arms and huffing: “That was never specified.”

“Yes, it was. You needed to function in heels and I know you’ve never just sat around for an entire day.” Tim said.

“Why do you even care so much?” Jonny asked.

“I want the goggles.” Tim said with a tone like Jonny was stupid.

Jonny frowned, but didn’t meet his eyes as he repeated: “No, I mean about all this. Why do you care so much?”

Had Tim been caught? Had Jonny realized? He decided to play dumb and asked: “I’m sorry, I don’t follow?”

“I mean about all this, about me doing all the, you know, girly stuff.” he whispered the last part as if he was afraid that if he said it louder the words would explode.

Okay, so he had caught on to what Tim was doing and Tim needed to make sure Jonny did hate him after all this. Fuck. He was never good at that sort of thing, he’d hoped Jonny would never find out until he was completely comfortable, but no such luck.

So he thought carefully about his answer, then replied: “It seemed like it was something you wanted, but you didn’t do, so I don’t know, I thought I would help, sorry.”

“No, no sorry, just why would you do that? Don’t you think that it’s weird?” Jonny asked him.

“No, I don’t think it’s weird.” Tim told him, “Why do you think it’s weird? It’s just clothes, no one here aboard cares if you want to wear something that makes you happy. You heard Ashes, gender rules are stupid.”

“Who said it made me happy.” Jonny pouted.

“You’re ignoring the question, Jonny. Besides, I have good vision, surprisingly enough, I see how you get when I convince you to do something more girly.” he used Jonnys word, thinking that feminine might not go over well.

Jonny moped for a bit and said: “I don’t think it’s weird.”

Tim sighed: “Jonny, you just asked me if I thought it was weird and something is obviously stopping you from doing it. If you don’t want to talk about it that’s fine, but you don’t get to lie and say that something isn’t stopping you.”

It was quiet for a few seconds after that, it seemed Jonny was building up the courage to tell Tim something, so Tim waited patiently until the other was ready. Taking a deep breath, Jonny said: “I saw Henry hanging, when I was little.”

“Who’s Henry?” Tim asked, confused and not expecting that answer.

“Just a guy in my town, tried to pay another guy to have sex with him, so they hung him on his own windmill. Threw away all the bread that was made with his flour too and left him hanging there until he fell.” Jonny told him, “I saw him. I think I was ‘round twelve.”

Tim suddenly remembered how scared Jonny had been to admit he liked guys, how they even thought he might be straight at one point, because he had hidden it so well. It was crazy to see how much he’d grown since then.

“That must’ve been terrible.” Tim replied, unsure how else to react.

Jonny shrugged: “Wasn’t the first body, but it did leave an expression. I think what was shittier was how my dad talked about him afterwards, you know.”

“I can see how something like that would stop you from ever trying something that wasn’t considered safe,” Tim told him, choosing his words as carefully as he’d chosen his steps I a minefield “but we all aren’t your father, Jonny. The Aurora is not New Texas. You don’t have to hide here, if you want to walk around in high heels and a skirt with bright red lips and corset then you do that.”

“Everyone will think it’s weird if I suddenly did that. They’ll think it’s a joke and laugh at me.” Jonny was close to tears at this point.

“No, they won’t. I’ll make sure of that.” Tim said, putting a arm around Jonnys shoulders in a comforting manner, allowing the First Mate to lean into him.

“Why are you so nice about this? To me?” Jonny mumbled.

Tim let out a breath and decided that Jonny deserved some honesty in return. So he said: “I loved Bertie, you know, never told him that, but I loved them. When he died, and then I died, I regretted it, but I’ve gotten a new chance at life. I promised myself to never miss an opportunity again, you also deserve to do the things you never dared when you were mortal, Jonny.”

“I’m sorry about Bertie.” Jonny told him.

“It’s alright, I made peace with it, well, sort of.” Tim replied.

After that they fell quiet for a few minutes, just sitting with their sides pressed together. Jonny broke it: “You really think they won’t laugh?”

“Of course not. No one laughs at Ashes either, do they?” Tim said.

“That’s different, they fall in between, I’m still a man. They probably think I’m making fun of them and kill me for it, I would deserve it too.” Jonny retorted.

“It is different, but that doesn’t mean what you’re doing is bad. Everyone expresses themselves in different ways, I do it with painting my nails and braiding my hair or with my goggles and you do it your own way.” Tim said.

“I’ll think about it.” Jonny finally decided.

It was the best Tim could hope for. It was also clear that Jonny wanted the conversation about this to end, so Tim nodded: “Alright, now get up and help me sort the armory.”

“Why?” Jonny asked.

“You need to function on those bad boys and I want those goggles really bad, so walking it is.” Tim replied with a grin, “Chop, chop, we don’t have all day.”

Jonny rolled his eyes, but he seemed better as he pushed himself off the couch and slowly followed after Tim.

By the time the day was over, Jonny was richer and the proud owner of a caliber 14 laser rifle. He also was pretty good in walking on heels, although his feet hurt like a bitch and he complained about it the entire night.

After his conversation with Jonny, Tim tried not to push him any further. He had done his part and now it was up to Jonny to see what he would do with the things Tim had told him.

He still kept a close eye on the First Mate and was glad to see that Jonny still wore the jewelry and the belt, he also noted that his eyeliner had become a bit more elegant.

A few weeks, later Jonny also shyly asked Tim to paint his nails again, so Tim didn’t worry about Jonny spiraling into the wrong direction.

The heels didn’t come back though, but when Tim left his ones by Raphaella in the lab, he saw that one pair was missing.

They had been planetside a few times after that when Tim noticed something one day.

Jonny didn’t have a terrible posture, but he never stood up that straight, his belt was also a bit tighter, so Tim said: “There is something different about you today, can’t pinpoint it.”

His eyes widened and he blushed. He quickly looked around to see if anyone else was there, before he lifted his shirt and showed Tim the corset underneath. He said: “It’s just for me, I just wanted to know what it was like.”

Tim smiled and said: “Well, you look great.”

“Thank you.” Jonny returned the smile.

“Wanna race to the kitchen? I heard Marius was baking today. Loser gets shot, winner dibs?” Tim asked.

“Sure.” and Jonny was already sprinting, a bit more out of breath at the end, but otherwise just business as usual.

It didn’t happen every day and it wasn’t all that noticeable, but Tim could see when Jonny would be wearing the corset. He also got a few more flow-y white blouses and boots with a thicker heel than he normally had.

Months went by like that until one night Tim got awoken by a knock on his door. Grumpily he opened and squinted against the light with a harsh: “What?”

“Uh, sorry, I forgotten how early it was.” came Jonnys voice.

“Is there a reason for waking me?” Tim asked, still waking up, but a bit less grumpy with Jonny there.

“I need you to help me.” Jonny told him.

“Help you with what, Jonny? I don’t have the brainpower for your dancing around what you want me to do.” Tim rubbed his eyes.

Jonny dawdled for a second, then he softly said: “I wanna wear this outfit, but I don’t want anyone to laugh at me, but I also don’t wanna talk to them about it and I hoped you might help, but if you don’t that’s okay, sorry for waking you. That was dumb, sorry. I hadn’t thought about it and now it’s too-”

“Jonny, shut up.” Tim recognized the anxious rambling from when Jonny had come out to them and ended it as soon as possible, “I’ll help.”

“Uh, oh, thank you.” Jonny stammered.

“No, problem, now go back to bed.” Tim said, closing the door again.

He made sure to be up before Jonny and went to the common area near the kitchen. Everyone except Jonny was already there, which was good, so he cleared his throat and said: “People, quick little thing.”

“What is it, Tim?” Ivy asked.

“Jonny is going to come in with an outfit that you’re maybe not used to and everyone is going to be nice about, okay. I know you all like to tease, but not today.” he gave them all an intent looks until he was sure that all would listen.

“Of course.” Brian said.

“How is it differently then?” Ashes asked, “I’m not going to do anything, just curious.”

“Haven’t seen it, he just asked me to tell you.” Tim shrugged.

“Why you?” Nastya asked.

“Me and Jonny are friends.” Tim pouted, a bit offended at the suggestion that they weren’t, “We talk.”

Then the door creaked open and Jonny poked his head around the corner, before walking in. He had his black leather boots with the small heel on, a pair of tighter gray-brown pants that pleated out at the top, tucked in the pants was a papyrus colored corset, one of his white flow-y blouses coming from the top. He also had a few golden bracelets around his wrist, dangle-y earrings and two belts hung loosely around his hips.

He looked at the floor for a second, before he met their eyes and softly waved a: “Hi.”

Tim smiled and said: “Look at you! You look great, Jonny.”

The others realized what Jonny had been so afraid off and all fell over themselves to tell Jonny how much they liked his outfit and how well it suited him.

Slowly Jonny lost the tension and bashfulness he’d showed up with and by the end of breakfast he was roughhousing and yelling like normal and he’d already shot Ashes for finding out they’d cheated during their card game yesterday, like he hadn’t had a stack of cards up his sleeve the entire time as well.

They were about to bring away the dishes, when Jonny coughed and in an uncharacteristically vulnerable voice he said: “Uhm, thank you for not being assholes about it.”

“Why would we be, Jonny?” Brian asked, “It’s just clothes and you look good, comfortable. We wouldn’t be assholes about it.”

Jonny looked helplessly at Tim, who nodded and explained: “New Texas was a shit place, definitely not the best planet to grow up on if you’re someone like Jonny, or any of us for that matter.”

Understanding came over the others as they nodded with sympathetic expressions. Ashes slung an arm over Jonnys shoulders and said: “Well, fuck them anyway. You’re better than that.”

Grinning at them, Jonny agreed with a cheer: “Fuck yeah.”

Over the course of the next few weeks Jonnys outfits became more feminine. He still wore other stuff from time to time, but he seemed happier in the new outfits he wore, less like something was weighing on him. No one had seen the invisible weight until it was gone.

When they landed on a planet, Ashes loaded a gun and told Jonny: “We’re robbing some clothing stores, grab Tim since you’re so attached to him and come along.”

“What?” Jonny asked.

“We’re getting you more nice clothes, come on.” Ashes repeated, then they called out: “Tim!”

Tim poked his head around the corner: “What?”

“We’re robbing stores for nice clothes for Jonny, wanna come?” Ashes asked him.

“Heck yeah.” Tim yelled, running to join them.

“You don’t- I don’t- it’s not-” Jonny was stammering.

“Don’t be daft, Jonny.” Ashes told him, “You look nice and happy, you deserve more of those clothes. I know some of them got ruined with the blood and the bullet holes, so you need more. We’re getting them, no complaining.”

“Why are you doing this for me?” Jonny was utterly confused.

Ashes gave him a smile and said: “I know how nice it is to have clothes that make you happy inside, now come.”

With that Jonny shut up and let them and Tim drag him along to the giant shopping center the planet had.

At first Jonny was hesitant about grabbing stuff. His eyes lingered on delicate necklaces, some socks with bows and even a dark blue skirt with a copper cog pattern on it, but he didn’t dare to touch them. So Ashes just ripped them of the rack and sternly stated: “You better start grabbing things, d’Ville.”

And so Jonny did, he started taking things from the racks. He got fishnets, heels, dresses, skirts, a few pants, dungarees, jewelry, makeup and hairpieces.

He still had a blush on his face throughout the whole thing and he didn’t make eye contact with Ashes or Tim, instead wordlessly handing them the clothes, but at least he was taking stuff he wanted.

It was all going well until Jonny stilled in front of a display and gaped at the feather fans, boas and hip pieces.

He swallowed heavily and stared, not noticing how Ashes and Tim gave him questioning looks and tried to get his attention. After a while of ignoring them, Tim put his hand on Jonnys shoulder and asked: “Jonny?”

Jonny snapped his head around and mumbled: “What? Oh, uh, nothing. I’m fine.”

His eyes drifted back to the display, ignoring Tim once more. So Tim spoke up again: “Want to get the feathers?”

“Oh, no, it’ll be impractical and they’ll get ruined and, you know, it’s stupid. Feathers don’t really fit with the whole aesthetic we got going on either, no matter how pretty they are.” he tapered off at the end, voice getting dreamy.

“We can make feathers steampunk.” Ashes told him.

Jonny bit his lip and looked at the display once more. If he had been hesitant about everything else, that couldn’t match up with how he was hesitating now. He shook his head softly and murmured to himself: “It wouldn’t be the same.”

“Why wouldn’t it be the same?” Tim asked.

Startling a bit, Jonny said: “Oh, it’s weird and doesn’t matter. Never mind.”

“We’ve been over this before, Jonny, spit it out.” Tim pushed him fondly.

“It’s just, this going to sound weird, but back home, back on New Texas, Jack he had- Well, you see he had these show girls in the casino.” Jonnys cheeks were burning as he explained, “They danced with feathers and all dolled up and stuff. I always- I, uh, I always wondered what it would be like to- to, you know, to be one of them.”

His voice was barely a whisper at the end and he buried his face in his hands as he whined: “See, it’s weird and embarrassing.”

Ashes lit up and said: “Jonny, we’re making you the prettiest show girl there is.”

“What?” Jonny squeaked.

“Oh, come on, this is what it’s been building up to, isn’t it.” Ashes said, “It’ll be fun, besides I have nothing against you walking around looking like a hot show girl, it’ll be just as good for me as it is for you.”

“I agree, I think it would be amazing to see you walk around like a cute show girl.” Tim agreed.

It looked like Jonnys head was going to explode from the heat on Jonnys cheeks as he scream-whispered: “You can’t just say stuff like that.”

“Why not? It’s true.” Ashes said nonchalantly, “Now, go pick out some show girl outfits.”

They pushed him into the store and Jonny didn’t fight. This was it, a dream he’d had since he was fifteen. He walked through the store like it was holy ground and he touched all the pieces with reverence.

Tim and Ashes made themselves comfortable on the couch, setting down the enormous amounts of bags they had acquired throughout the day.

They didn’t get to see the outfits Jonny tried out, but he returned an hour later with five more bags and a small smile on his face. He said: “I think I have enough clothes now.”

Returning the smile, Tim said: “That’s nice, wanna go back?”

Jonny nodded and took some of the bags from them. The way back to the Aurora was silent, but comfortable. They took the bags to Jonny room, but before they could leave Jonny stopped them and said: “Uh, thank you, this means a lot.”

“No problem, Jonny.” Tim told him.

“Nah, did it with love.” Ashes winked.

Throughout time they saw more and more pieces they’d helped Jonny pick out and he looked very happy with his new stuff, and after the others had realized how he’d gotten the new outfits and accessories, they also started to leave little gifts for him, making him smile and blush every time he opened them.

Overall he still acted the same, except now he just kicked Marius in the nuts with a twirl of his skirt instead the swoosh of his vest, but they never saw the show girl pieces.

Not that they were going to ask about them either, from what Jonny had said it was clear the outfits were personal, but that didn’t stop them from talking about them.

“I just wonder what he looks like, you know.” Tim slurred, one night when it was just the two of them, draped over the couch with too much alcohol in their systems.

“You’re right, he’d probably have heels and like, ugh, legs.” Ashes tried to get their point across.

Tim understood them perfectly: “Yes! Legs. Oh, and waist. Yeahh.”

Ashes groaned: “We’re so fucked for the dude, aren’t we.”

“Yeah, we are.” Tim slid further down dramatically, “At least he’s pretty. And I think most of the crew is fucked at this point as well. Especially Brian and Marius.”

Agreeing Ashes took another swig, then they toasted: “To Jonnys legs and waist.”

Tim grinned and raised his bottle as well and echoed: “To Jonnys legs and waist.”

Unbeknown to them, it wasn’t just the two of them at all. Jonny had been on his way to join them again, finding that he couldn’t sleep, so drinking was a better option. He had stilled just outside the door to listen when he had heard the conversation.

After the toast the two fell asleep on the couch and Jonny backed away. His head was spinning with the blood that had rushed to it and the information that swirled around in his brain.

He’d put on some of the outfits before, a few times already, just in his bedroom. He’d looked at himself in front of the mirror inspecting every angle with a happy bubble floating in his chest. He liked looking like that, he liked feeling pretty, but the fear of looking stupid or being laughed at or killed had stopped him.

It didn’t matter that the others hadn’t killed him or laughed at him before for his outfits and told him it was okay, this was so much further than those things and he didn’t think he could emotionally survive it if they decided that it was too weird.

But now here were Ashes and Tim, toasting to the idea in that outfit. They liked it, despite the fact that they’d never seen it. That did funny things to him.

He didn’t fall asleep that night, instead he laid in his bed and replayed the conversation over and over in his head until he had analyzed it in a 100 different ways. He wanted advise about it, but the only people he trusted for advise about all this were Ashes and Tim, so he just tossed and turned instead.

The conversation he’d overheard played heavy on his mind the next day and it seemed the others picked up on it, because Tim cornered him and asked: “Hey, Jonny, are you okay? You look like something’s bothering you.”

On one hand Jonny didn’t want to admit what he had heard, but on the other he desperately wanted to know what they had meant with it all and what he was supposed to do with it.

He bit his lip then said: “I, uhm, I didn’t mean to, but I couldn’t sleep and I knew you and Ashes were still awake, so I thought I’d come back, but then I heard you talking and it, uh, it was about me so I, I listened.”

“Oh, god, I’m so sorry, Jonny.” Tim said mortified, “We didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable at all. Sorry that you had to hear that. God that’s so embarrassing, sorry, really.”

“It’s okay, I just don’t get it.” Jonny replied.

“What?” Tim said.

“I don’t get it.” Jonny repeated.

“What don’t you get, Jonny, I’m still not a mindreader.” Tim told him gently.

Jonny bunched the fabric of his skirt, the dark blue one with the copper cog design, as a nervous habit and confessed: “Why you like the idea so much. For me it’s about liking myself and feeling pretty like the show girls, but I’m not them and I look dumb in it, honestly, so why would you two like it so much?”

“Did you ever think about the fact that we might think you look pretty in the clothes, Jonny?” Tim asked him.

“But I’m not pretty, I know I’m not.” Jonny exploded a bit, “I’m short and stocky with wild hair that never sits the way I want it, I’m a maniac and you can see that in my eyes. That’s not pretty, Tim, don’t tell me that it is.”

“Oh, Jonny.” Tim sighed and pulled him into a hug.

He kissed the top of Jonnys head and said: “Me and Ashes seem to disagree with you. We think you’re very pretty. You never see how lively you look when you’re beating Raphaella to a pulp after she’s pissed you off or how excited you get when someone gets you a little gift. You look very pretty then, there’s a reason the crew keeps giving you them.”

“But they don’t me-”

“Shush, Jonny, let me talk.” Tim ignored the interruption, “You can’t see everything in a mirror, dear. You’re very pretty, especially when you’re happy or violent. I loathe to think, you dislike yourself. We like the idea of you in those clothes, because to us you’re very pretty, beautiful even, and we think those clothes would accentuate that beauty even more.”

Jonny was quiet. He stood there in Tims arms and let the words wash over them. He’d never thought of himself as pretty or beautiful, the clothes made him feel like that, but there was always a voice in his head that told him it wasn’t true.

He swallowed thickly as he tried to get his emotions under control. He didn’t succeed only managing: “You called me dear.”

Like he was burned Tim let go and apologized again: “Sorry, Jonny, sorry, I let it slip out that was uncalled for.”

Jonny blushed and said: “I liked it.”

“You did?” Tim asked, not believing his ears.

“Uh, yeah, it’s nice?” Jonny replied uncertain.

“Oh, can I- can I keep doing it?”

“Please.”

Tim smiled and said: “Well, then, dear, I just want to say you’re very pretty, beautiful, just absolutely gorgeous and if you want to you can wear those pretty clothes and feel pretty, but you don’t have to, I just want to tell you that none of us would mind.”

“They’re a bit extravagant and impractical.” Jonny argued, unable to handle the complement and therefore ignoring it.

“Well, I’m sure that your task around this ship is nothing more than sit and look pretty, which you are very successful at.” Tim teased with a smirk.

Jonny spluttered a bit not able to come up with a good reply.

“Just think about, okay. Just like last time. I’ll be here.” Tim assured him gently.

Still not in control enough to speak Jonny nodded and hugged him again, giving him a small peck on the cheek, before hurrying down the hall, the click of his heels echoing behind him.

Once he’d disappeared Tim slid down the wall and touched his cheek, then he softly, but passionately whispered to himself: “Fuck.”

Before getting up to find Ashes, because they needed to know what had happened. He needed to be able to tell someone and he couldn't think of anyone better to vent to about this particular subject than Ashes.

Except maybe Brian and Marius, he knew those two were staring at Jonny and not all that subtly if he might add, but he and Ashes were the only ones that knew about the show girl outfits and it would feel like a break of trust towards Jonny to tell someone else.

After he’d told Ashes everything they decided that it was completely unacceptable that Jonny didn’t think he was pretty, so they decided to dial up the complements, leaving Jonny flustered. They also gave him the nickname darlin’.

With Tim and Ashes both calling Jonny a pet name of sorts the two others had decided that it was now law. So, Brian called him sweetheart and Marius addressed him as princess. Only The Toy Solider and the wlw aboard the Aurora referred to Jonny by his name.

At first Jonny had squeaked and hid when he was spoken to with a pet name, but now he only flushed a bright red.

It was during dinner when Jonny, with too much nonchalance to be normal, asked: “Is there anything unusual happening tomorrow?”

“Not as far as I’m aware, princess.” Marius said, “How so?”

“Oh, uh, nothing in particular, I wanted to wear this outfit, but it’s a bit impractical, so if there was going to be a lot of action I’m not going to put it on.” Jonny tried a laid back tone, but the thrumming nervousness was still clear.

Tim and Ashes visibly perked up at his confession and Jonny moped: “Okay, calm down. You caught me, I wanna wear one of the outfits, you happy?”

“What outfits, sweetheart?” Brian asked, very interested.

Jonny then realized that only Tim and Ashes knew what he had meant and that he was now going to have to explain it to everyone there what he had been referencing. He gestured vaguely and mumbled: “Oh, you know, uhm, an outfit with, uhm, feathers ‘n stuff...”

He trailed off at the end and ducked into himself, Tim made a questioning noise and Jonny gave him a nod, so Tim said: “Jonny has a very pretty outfit that Ashes and I haven’t seen either. It’s like a show girl. They used to have them back on New Texas, it’s where all this started.”

As red as a cherry, Jonny nodded and mumbled: “It’s just stupid, but it’s fun? It’s not special or anything.”

“Of course it’s special, darlin’.” Ashes exclaimed, “And it’s not stupid, you’re going to look gorgeous in it and if I’m honest I will be looking forward to tomorrow if that’s in store.”

“Ahw, princess, it’ll be nice, getting all dolled up for us.” Marius smiled.

“But it’s so extra. You know what I’m not doing it, it’ll be dumb, serves no purpose. It’ll be weird.” Jonny was already back paddling.

“Dear, no.” Tim said, “It doesn’t have to serve a purpose, do you think I need these goggles for my job? Or Brian and Marius those hats? Or The Toy Soldier that uniform? Of course not. It’s all extra things that make us happy. You wear that outfit if you want to.”

“Alright.” Jonny gave in, making them all smile, “But now it’s blown out of proportion, it’s really not that special.”

“Whatever you say, sweetheart.” Brian told him.

The rest of the dinner passed quietly, Jonny hightailing out of there as soon as he was done, not meeting anyones eyes. When he was gone Nastya groaned: “You’re all being disgusting, you know that right?”

“Like you and Aurora didn’t annoy us for centuries.” Tim rolled his eyes.

“I think it’s cute.” Raphaella smiled, “Jonny seems happy, don’t you agree, Nastya?”

Nastya was silent for a beat, then she threw her hands up and said: “Fine, I guess, he is and that’s good. He deserves it after everything, but that doesn’t mean I want it rubbed in my face, he’s like my brother and it’s weird.”

“I recall one time you told him, you quote ‘fuck the ship’, so I think he’s earned a bit of retribution.” Ivy reminded her.

“Yeah, yeah, alright.” Nastya dropped the subject.

After that they all went their separate ways as they thought of what tomorrow would bring, hopefully Jonny confidant in a show girl outfit, but who’s to say. If he backed out, he would and they couldn’t fault him for that.

The next morning, Jonny was standing in front of the mirror inspecting himself. He’d put on his favourite of the outfits, even some makeup to match, but he wasn’t sure.

Yes, the others had liked the idea, but what id he couldn’t live up to it? Or what if they had the wrong idea and when they saw him they would laugh at him? He could still back out, but that would disappoint them and he didn’t want to do that either.

He sighed and twirled again.

In the end it was the Aurora, who made the decision for him. A panel appeared with the message: The others are getting worried, if you’re not there in ten minutes I am 99% sure they’re going to look for you.

Ten minutes, that wasn’t enough time to get this all off and the last thing he wanted was for them to find him half dressed as he hurried to get undressed. He just had to take the plunge and hope they really did like it.

Tim had barely stood up to look for Jonny, when the sound of heels clicking at a fast pace called their attention to the door. A bit winded Jonny stopped in the doorway and breathed heavily as he apologized: “Sorry, lost the time.”

Four mouths hung agape as they stared at their First Mate.

The corset was a light pink that was dripping in pink rhinestones and lace. It was pulled tight to make his waist a few inches thinner. The hip pieces were a combination of feathers in the same pink and white, accentuating the hourglass figure the corset was giving him.

Underneath, he wore sheer white stockings with white lace on top and matching pink heels.

Around his fingers he had a few silver rings and rings with pearls. He also wore velvet pink gloves that went up to his elbow and he had a huge fan made from white feathers in his right hand.

To top it all off, he had put on a light shiny eyeshadow that sparkled along with pink lipstick and sharp eyeliner. On his head rested a silver headpiece, which also had pearls to make it all complete.

Once he noticed them all staring, he realized what outfit he was wearing and promptly hid his face behind the fan.

With the movement Tim came back online and he said with wonder: “Fuck, how are you so unbelievably pretty, dear.”

Jonny peaked out from behind the fan and slowly made his way over to the seat under the scrutiny of everyone else.

Since the others were still processing and Jonny was clearly still a bit uncomfortable with the lack of reaction from most, Nastya sighed and said: “I have to admit, Jonny, I didn’t think you could clean up so well.”

The complement wasn’t as laden with affection nor filled with words his mind couldn’t wrap around, so Jonny shot her a smile and did a little bow as he said: “Thank you, I tried.”

That got the others to function as well and they all told Jonny how nice and pretty he looked. Nastya rolled her eyes at the mushiness, but she couldn't be mad at them for making that smile appear on Jonnys face, not really.

After breakfast Ivy left on her own, while Nastya guided Raphaella and The Toy Soldier away to give the five of them some privacy.

Brian had meanwhile walked up to Jonny and offered a hand. He asked: “Can I have a dance, sweetheart?”

Jonny had never been more grateful for the fan, it really was perfect to hide his blush behind as he accepted the hand and allowed Brian to twirl him around.

He made him spin till their arms were stretched and then Jonny was taken over by Tim, who dipped him before swaying him from side to side, holding him so that he could hide his face in the crook on his neck.

He was then offered to Marius, who made him dance to a faster silent tune, putting his hands on his waist as they spun around the room with quick steps. Marius ended their little dance by picking him up and depositing him in Ashes arms.

Ashes held him for a second, before they carefully set him down on his feet and pulled him into a proper waltz. Jonny couldn't for the life think of where they would’ve picked that up, but this was Ashes and Ashes was full off surprises so he just let it be a delightful surprise.

After the impromptu dance session he was settled on the couch, smile high on his cheeks. They all settled down around him and with a happy sigh he stated: “I don’t know why you’re all so nice to me, but thank you.”

“Because we like you, dear.” Tim informed him.

With wide eyes Jonny looked as they all nodded with a smile. He then frowned and asked: “Really? All of you?”

“We tried to make it obvious, darlin’.” Ashes told him.

Apologetically Brian added: “We didn’t mean to spring it on you like this, sweetheart, and we want to assure you that it is completely fine if you don’t like us back.”

“Oh, no, I do, I just-” Jonny squirmed in his seat, before the word dam broke: “It would be cheating or something wouldn't it? I mean, it’s selfish and weird if I love all of you and I don’t want to make you feel bad or pick one of you or something, you’re all too nice for that and, oh, what would the others say or maybe I’m not- I’m not what you all assume and then you want to leave me or-”

“Dear.” Tim tried to cut him of, “Dear, stop, please. For us?”

Jonny stopped and gasped for air, fiddling with the fan as he vibrated in his seat with anxiety.

“It’s not selfish or weird.” Tim told him, “You just have a big heart, dear, and that just makes us love you more, okay. We’re also not going to make you pick, we don’t mind sharing, really, if you’re willing to love all of us, we would only be honored.”

“And Nastya already gave us as much of a blessing we’re going to get out of her.” Ashes said, “So don’t go breaking your pretty little head about that, darlin’.”

“You don’t have to give us an answer now, princess, take your time.” Marius assured him when Jonny stayed silent for a few moments.

“No, it’s- just processing.” Jonny said with a chocked off voice.

“Would it help if we hugged you?” Tim asked.

The nod Jonny gave was small, you would’ve missed it, if you weren’t paying attention. Luckily they all were paying very close attention, so they quickly gathered him up in their arms, until Jonny was sideways in Ashes lap with his feet thrown over Marius lap, while Tim hugged him from behind and Brian from the side.

They sat like that for a while, until Jonny broke the silence: “I, I do really love you all and I’d be, I’d be honored to call you all my partners, but I’m no good at that and I can’t promise you that I can be what you want me to be.”

“We just want you to be you, sweetheart.” Brian petted his hair softly.

“Yes, you say that now, but…” Jonny replied.

“And we’ll see how it goes, we just need to talk a bit together and see where everyone stands.” Marius said, “But we’ll figure it out. You won’t disappoint us, trust us.”

“But we can talk about all that later.” Ashes lifted the quiet, serious mood, “Because we really haven’t talked enough about how breathtakingly beautiful you look today, darlin’.”

With the temporary breather, everyone relaxed as they again lavished Jonny in complements and praises, this time also softly giving him pecks and hugging him close while they praised him. Until Jonny was flushed entirely red and beaming with pride, practically emitting a happy glow.

He was happy, they were happy and they had an eternity to be happy together.

New Texas was not a lot of things, but it was a shit place to grow up in if you’re someone as special and beautiful as Jonny d’Ville. However, if you managed to take the New Texas out of the boy, you were left with someone amazing.

~~~~~~~~~~

I know I normally only do A/Ns with AO3, but I thought these were too important for that:

All sexualities and stuff are headcanons, not a reflection of the band members or the characters if they see it differently.

Also, aroace people are queer and 100% valid and I will fight whoever says differently, (just in case that wasn’t clear, I love you all, be proud!)

Clothes are for every gender, fuck anyone who tells you otherwise, you can come to me and I will make sure their kneecaps are gone if they harass you.

In my mind this was just Jonnys gender expression/presentation not identity. For me, he wanted to be part of that world of glamor and attention, so here he still identifies as male with he/him pronouns, but if you want to think this is pre-exploration that will make him later realize he’s trans or non binary or any other gender, feel free! It’s up to your interpretation!

Although most the polycule ID’s as gay that does not mean Ashes isn’t the proud enby that they are, exceptions can be made and if the person is alright with their partner ID’ing as gay despite being with them then that’s their choice, as long as communication is there. It depends on the situation.

I didn’t really include the discussion of boundaries between them, because I am not in that sort of relationship, so I don’t think I would be able to write it down properly and I wouldn’t want to do the beautiful poly community a disservice :D

#RR writing #trigger warning #tw: homophobia #tw: internalized homophobia #tw: internalized misogyny #tw: self esteem issues #the mechs #the mechanisms #jonny d'ville #ashes o'reilly #gunpowder tim #drumbot brian #marius von raum #raphaella la cognizi #nastya rasputina #ivy alexandria #the toy soldier #aurora

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jflove · 5 years ago

Text

Taekook/Vkook: From things I gathered so far

First of all, it’s just my thinking, I could be wrong. So if im wrong, then just think of this post as a fanfic. So, I started listening/watching BTS just this week. Yeah i know, very late for the party. but i dont usually listen to K-pop, so I came across them simply because they’re everywhere recently.

They amazed me like most of the world right now, i started to watch their interview or v-live vids just to know them better.

Then i saw a old news about they almost break the group in 2018, i was really shocked, so i watched the 2018 festa, heard that V talked about Suga write a long massage to him and end with I love you. then Suga said he also sent to another person.

then Jungkook raised his hand.

i found it a bit weird why he didn’t say it earlier, wait till Suga pointed out another person? But i didn’t think into it. the news commented that Suga cared for the two youngest members, and said the almost disbanded reason was pressure from the fame.

Then i came across those Taekook vids, lots of them with detail analyse, those were too many i can’t repeat. i grow up with Japan’s boy groups, those were K-pop’s beginning, so im no new to those fan service behavior. But I really feel this wasn’t the case.

The first one really bring up suspicious, is when Jimin asked if JK was happy, then JK said yes and thank fans.

I was really shocked to see that, because Jimin actually lower his voice, it doesn’t sound like a joke.

And also JK’s answer... i have to say hes not the best improviser on cover up. He stop for a sec then said something in a weak tone....

He didn’t ask why Jimin say that or anything, like a normal person been wrongfully accused. Just really nervous laughing.

Cute, but boi.

Then theres that famous sleeping together on a boat:

And also those v-live busted:

Jungkook wasn’t wearing clothes when V came, but they exchanged some shady text before. So theory was probably V told him hes coming but didn’t say he would bring the cam, so... poor JK.

Anyway there are lots of them, so im not gonna go threw everything. Just my theory: I would guess they probably started just good friends, they both has the same weirdness, and similar age. And JK said he think V really good looking a lot from the beginning. V would pet JK like a puppy and hug him every chance he got.

Though other’s like the little bro too, but clearly they were the closest.

And most of all, V likes(or needs) to hug something to sleep, and little JK didn’t like sleep alone. So they just naturally sleep together all the time. And other hyungs were used to it. they know each other more than any other members too.

at first I guess they started to make out around 2017, but now i think probably 14-15. I have to keep changing the timeline earlier because more i dig, more i think it happened very early. 2013 When the group started, Jungkook looked so shy and everyone teased him. V’s teasing a bit different, more intimate or inappropriate even. Like the pic above, JK often looks shy and tries to get away. There’re also a vid (I forgot where i saw it) everyone sit down talking, V held JK under his arm and grabbing his nipple, JK looked so uncomfortable and low key tried to get away. But that dynamic soon changed, JK suddenly more confident, can tease back, and possessive of V. i think they started to make out during that time. explain why JK used to so awkward when V teased him, because he got aroused by those joking behavior and embarrassed. But after confirmed that the feeling was mature. He’s all exciting and totally in love. But I don’t think they really consider the other one as lover till 2016, could be when V left the group for the movie shooting, the separation made them realized their own feeling. if i can be a bit pervert, i would say before that could just jerking, making out, normal stuff. but 16 or 17 are the time they really doing it and become lovers.

this vid was form 03.24.2017, i saw it from other people’s great vid. pls go watch it, so informational. In this vid you can hear some kissing sound. I used to think this time was they first build up the real sexual relationship so they couldn’t control themselves. But now i think maybe because company were(are) pressing them, so its their way to get back. So as those sneaky tease, it’s their way to express their feeling under the company rules.

Maybe at first was boys fooling around, but it turn to real general love very quick. It’s not just some dazed and confused, they supported each other in a high pressure industry full with adults. Train together, work together, live together. That would definitely create a strong bond. And I believe them made each other grow a better person. V becomes more thoughtful, discovered his ability on dancing, singing, and song writing. And the very capable JK becomes more caring, confident, and found his mental support he can always rest his head when he really tired.

The another shock for me was the behind scene of Winter Bear.

first of all, JK isn’t in the credit so why was he there lol? Second, that phone lol. JK’s symbol is rabbit. so no matter who that phone is all quite suspicious. Although there’re some camera sound, but it doesn’t looks like another person was shooting, the sound and camera shift could edit in. or just ask the camera person leave the camera after couple shoots. Anyway, i think the camera was on the bed was the tiny movement matched their move so it could be just mattress bouncing. But the important thing i want to talk about was this:

That damn boi was freaking jerking off right?! His top all opened up, his left hand was under the cover, and there were some tiny panting and chest movement... i watched like at least 20 times, its gotta be. And there’s a cut couple sec later, changed to JK singing winter bear with a smirk face.

cus he freaking knew the song is about him. yeah. I think V made that song cuz JK. He said before that JK really hates people waking him up. so i guess kinda like a bear?

Then there’s the walking with JK’s dog scene. Before the behind scene came out, people argued about whether JK was involved. But now, yeah, i would say he probably the person filming since he already filming V a lot on his personal account “golden closet film“... do i even need to say anything about the name?

Back on the bear.

V only held one bear, and the finishing had two bears.

Two bears, how could that be any more obvious?? Two bears, two boys likes to sleep together. do the math.

do you even wanna talk how close he and the person filming? don’t think a professional would film like this. and the look in V’s eyes, the tiny smile on his lips... im tired to go over this, why do i even need to point out? use your eyes.

So, conclusion, I think they were in love since 2017. And the other members all know about it. There are so many slips i wouldn’t gonna talk about it. it’s already a super long post.

Next, it’s the interfering phase. 2018.

Anyway, Korea is not a gay-friendly country. And they have mandatory military service, which V and JK haven’t done. if you’re gay in Korea military, you could face jail time. And not to mention coming out in anywhere would be hard. The company started to separate V and JK, they won’t be in the same vid, even arrange different schedule for them. If it’s a group activity, then they couldn’t stand next to each other without others cut in-between.

I imagine its not a great job for the hyngs, probably why they talked about disband. Yeah, I went back to the first question i got and finished my quest. i think i found the real reason. and it explains why-->

See when Jin said it, V was looking at another person on his right side with that intense look, tell me that's not a look you look at someone you love but couldn’t be with.

And V all broke down, finally JK couldn’t watch it anymore.

I can’t find a close up, but i remember seeing in some other vids. JK was holding his tear and put on a calm face but you can see how hard he gritted.

it’s hard to find because they all got ban by the company. maybe my post would too... i heard there was a vid on YouTube point out the same thing and got ban by bighit. so... anyway. if you think im right, you can make a copy of my post and re-post it. don’t worry about copy my words, i don’t mind. if a lot of people did the same thing, then there would be no point to ban.

IM NOT DOWN HERE!!

That’s talk about this v live: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tfHecRN_dLk

if you didnt watch it, go find it on youtu. This vid are so... all over the place. I didn’t understand till some great analysis (see the link above). i couldn’t go throw all the details why how or what... if you don’t believe, why you even read till here?

Simply says, company wanna hide that JK and V was staying in the same room, so they probably ask V to leave the room, but V came back in the middle, everyone was super awkward, so Jin and Jimin left. V looked sad and pissed. He wouldn’t leave, so company sent someone to ring the bell, and told JK to ask V to leave.

see how uncomfortable that JK had to ask V to leave. i feel so bad for them both, had to follow those company stupid rules and pretend their relationship. How would that feel when you have the love one so close to you, but you can’t touch, can’t hold each other, can’t even say how important that person meant to you.

They’re in their 20s! they should be having fun with each other, posting those sweet pics and showing off their boyfriends, having the best. Instead, they can’t even stand together in public photo shooting.

People even thought they have issue with each other, can you imagine how insult that would be? have to see your fans pairing you and your lover with other people, but couldn’t say anything.

Then, that’s talk about the new album. because i think they’re not gonna be quite for long. remember RM made a speech in UN about not just love yourself, also need to speak yourself? I think they are gonna speak, that’s why RM hinted in this interview:

yes form the same youtuber, go find the vid. He say something big could be coming, i do think definitely could be JK and V coming out. see how serious JK’s face? this kid got frown lines in just a year! People were shock that he looks much grown up in “ON”, i just feel sorry for him. hes only 22, he shouldn’t have to grow up so much. But love would do this to you, the things you do for love age you. V seems much older too, i couldn’t imagine how much pressure hes under.

And we have to talk about the songs.

First, Jungkook’s My time. He said the same thing about have to grow up fast. Of course industry would do that to you, but he was always quite happy till couple years ago. love do make us weak and hurt, some love just harder than the other. In his song, he said don’t know what’s his time, I think maybe he was thinking about when to come out? But eventually he definitely will, because his song was for V, the lyric mostly was easy to understand, but

Even if it's opposite of sun One time for the present (one time) Two time for the past (two time) these three lines i think sun means V’s name? probably means even against what V wants? but the one or two im not sure, how many times he disagree with V?

And time, my time, does that mean sexuality? or just simply means he couldn’t have time with V? so many possibility...

But i really wanna talk about V’s inner child. That’s the reason why i spent 4hrs writing this long ass post with my broken english. Not even sure would any one even bother to read... Because after everything i know and believe about V and JK, when i read the lyric i see a totally different song. a heart break love song for someone he knows for so long, when they both young. (im tearing up again) OK, call me imagine things all you want, if there’s a small chance they really are lovers and this song was for JK... just pretend that and read+listen the song again.

At that time, we had it tough While looking up at those stars in the sky, too far out of reach You at that time, didn't believe in galaxies But I saw it, a silver galaxy It must have hurt, it must have been so difficult I ran towards the endless light

The first part is the beginning of their story, they wanna be like those stars, but JK wasn’t sure about himself. V believes they can make it. so they went for it, even have to go through all those lies and suffering.

and the chorus...

It tingles, that summer day's air The cold sounds of the grey-lit streets I draw in a breath and knock at your door We gon' change

maybe how things happened? Not sure the summer is a metaphor or a real time though. this change means they fell in love.

Now I wish we would smile more It will be okay, because today's me is doing fine Yesterday's you, now it's all clear I want to hug the many thorns in the budding rose The smiling kid, the child who was always laughing brightly When I see you like that, I can't help smiling

The second part is breaking my heart. I think hes telling JK not to worry about him. He doesn’t mind those thorns(all the obstacles they have to face), he want the rose(JK or their love relationship). And the smiling kid part just makes me cry every time. The line “Yesterday’s you”, Im not sure means he can sees JK’s grown up, or... When i sense that their relationship might be the almost disband reason, i think probably one of them wanted to go against the company, open their relationship. But the other one refused. That’s why they end up still the same. I thought was V wanted to open, because he’s more don’t care about what people think kinda person. but now i think might be JK. That’s why V was crying so hard on the stage, because hes the one hiding. He felt sorry for JK, and JK held him showed he support his decision. And if that’s true, then the whole “yesterday you” could means that V understand why JK want to go public now. Another thing why i suddenly think JK is the one wanted to come out, is the “Golden Closet Film” name. And It’s started at 2017.11.08... probably the time they talked about coming out, but decided not to, he was frustrated and felt been pressed by the company into this glamorous closet.

the chorus this time means another change, maybe they broke up, or put a hold on their relationship. but i would think... maybe when V made the song, he didn’t know what would happen. this song was what he wanted to say to JK, so he could bring this song to JK and play or sing to him. See what would he choose.

Therefore comes the next part which is dancing in my tears:

Tonight, if I reach my hand to yours Can you hold that hand? I'll become you You just have to look at my galaxies Be showered with all those stars I'll give you my world The lights illuminating your eyes, they're the me of now You’re my boy, my boy My boy, my boy, my boy

Is V asking JK to come out with him? i couldn’t figure out every single words mean but i don’t have to, that’s something V said to JK, the meaning belongs to them, we can just shared a bit of his emotion. there are just so many love and begging, calling for the boy he deeply in love with. every single word hurt me deeply because they are so real and pure.

If someone wrote something like this song to you, you need to grab that person tight. You might never meet another person could love you more than that.

I don’t know if JK hold V’s hand, like I said in the beginning, i could be all wrong and this is just a fanfic. But it’s the ending, if you still with me. let me make a wild guess...

If they come out on one of the coming concert, that would be epic. I worry for them of course, I wish them nothing but happiness. I truly don’t want to see this great kids suffer anymore. So maybe its a good thing if im wrong, or the storm might swallow them all. No matter what, i will keep supporting them, hope most of the army too.

#taekook #vkook

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creativestalkerrs · 5 years ago

Text

The Female Spider-Man; Part Two (Peter Parker x Reader)

Summary; after meeting ‘the female Spider-Man,’ Peter gets an inside of her personal life as well as a personal threat

Warning; some FFH spoilers, swearing, sexual themes, underage drinking, use of marijuana, slight violence, dumbasses

Word Count; 2.2k

A/N; Yep, it’s a series! Thank you for all the love on part one!

Peter went downstairs to see Y/N, now dressed in something other than a robe. He was wearing a button down shirt and some slacks as well as some dress suit. Very unlike Peter. If it wasn’t a quirky science or math teeshirt, he didn’t want it. But this, this felt right. Y/N leaned on the staircase, with a cherry lollipop between her lips, looking at Peter up and down.

“Finally you look like a presentable adult,” Y/N laughed giving the hard candy another lick.

“Like I wasn’t before?” Peter asked.

“Yep,” Y/N shouted. “Do you know how to drive?” Y/N asked. Peter face to face with her on the last stair.

“No… I just swing everywhere,” Peter told her as she mocked him with a yawn.

“You’re borrrringggg,” Y/N mocked. “Have you ever driven in a Telsa before?” Y/N asked

“No…” Peter answered slowly. “But I have many other things,” He smiled. Y/N raised an eyebrow.

“Is that some sort of sex joke, Peter?” Y/N asked Peter looked at her shooked, face pink.

“No!” He shouted. “What the hell, Y/N,” Peter whispered. Y/N gave Peter a wink.

“I’m only kidding, Spider-Man… Let’s go! I have people to meet,” Y/N said, turning on her heel and going out the door, Peter dragging begin her. “So, here is the tea… ew, I should like everyone LA whore ever, ANYWAYS, the party is at my friend George’s house… he’s the only other person to know about my powers, kind of the man in the chair-”

“Like Ned,” Peter smiled, thinking about his best friend back in New York. Y/N turned around with a grin.

“You have one too? Yea George is a great guy…” Y/N trailed off as she opened the garage door. “He actually tried to help fight Mysterio when he tried to kill me the second time… the poor man lost an eye… He embraces it and he is such a badass. George says he’s the new Nick Furry for it… if Nick Furry was a jacked, gay Japanese man, who has INCREDIBLE fashion taste,” Y/N laughed. Peter let out a chuckle, a grin on his face.

“Sounds like a great man in the chair… I can’t wait to meet him,” Peter said getting in the car as well as Y/N.

“Are you ready for a good time, Parker?” Y/N asked, Peter, nodded.

As Y/N parked her car in George’s driveway, Peter heard music blasting throwout the house, seeing colored lights throw the window’s and people on the lawn. A classic party scene from a 90’s romcom, that’s only how Peter could describe it.

“Stay with me, then you can go on and explore the ropes of Georgie's party,” Y/N winked at Peter as Peter swallowed the lump his throat. “Don’t be nervous, Peter, they will love you, especially Geroge,” Y/N said with a smile. Y/N put her hand on the door nob and opened the door. Y/N walked up to Geroge who was taking a shot with a model who was wearing on tight underwear. Peter was processing everything. He took a look at everyone as Y/N gave Geroge a hug. Peter saw women in nothing but bikini's, people in feathered scarves and sparkling dresses, a man wearing heels dancing on a table, a few people puffing on a bong and taking body shots on each other. Peter saw a pot belly pig on the couch with a straw hat on. Welcome to LA!

“I missed you!” Geroge said giving Y/N a bear hug, the guy in tight underwear leaving, pushing Peter

“You saw me this morning,” Y/N laughed. “I brought Spider-Man with me,” Y/N whispered as Geroge raised an eyebrow and pushed her aside to see Peter smile at him.

“This- Him?” Geroge asked with a whisper.

“Yes him,” Y/N smiled.

“He’s cute. Is he single? Possibly got some bi vibes?” George asked, sipping his drink.

“Geroge!” Y/N groaned, Peter’s face redder than a tomato. “I’m sorry Peter, he’s a bit drunk… or high… or both,” Y/N laughed.

“I’m Peter,” Peter introduced to George.

“I heard,” George winked. “I think you and Y/N will get along nicely. Drinks are in the fridge, weed in… everywhere, condoms are in my bedroom,” Geroge laughed as both Peter and Y/N’s face was red.

“That’s enough Georgie, oh my god!” Y/N shouted. “Peter lets get a drink and let Geroge have his own fantasy’s about us,” Y/N added, as she grabbed his hand and dragged him to George’s kitchen. “I’m going to kill him! I… He’s the worst when he meets new people I bring… especially guys. I said that you’d be coming and he had a million questions,” Y/N said grabbing a solo cup and filling it with cheap beer. “Want some?” Y/N asked. Peter had a reputation on being the good boy he is. Sweet, innocent, Peter Parker.

“Yea sure… Just don’t tell my Aunt May or Happy,” Peter let loose as Y/N handed him a cup.

“Cheers,” Y/N laughed, clinching the cups together as both of them taking a sip. “So Peter, tell me about yourself. What do you do, who do you do?” Y/N asked. Peter’s face looked into Y/N soul, “I’m only kidding Peter… Who is your Aunt May?” Y/N asked, tilting her head, leaning on the counter as Peter’s arms laid across his chest, thinking.

“She’s a great woman. She’s been doing this thing for people who have been relocated after the Blip�� and I’ve been helping,”

“Sounds like a great woman… Maybe I can meet her one day. Were you apart of the Blip?” Y/N asked.

“Yes… I’m supposed to be like 23 years old now,”

“Same here… It’s weird because I was supposed to graduate with George and now he’s older than me. That’s weird! He’s at least 6 months younger than me!” Y/N exclaimed. “I missed so many opportunities… But when I got back… things were different, still famous, just odd. However, when I came back my uncle tried to kill me and then went to try and kill you. Thanks, uncle! Family really means a lot,” Y/N laughed. “Did all your friends get snapped?” Y/N asked, taking a drink from her cup.

“Basically… It’s all so… weird,” Peter told Y/N as he took a drink from his cup. Before Y/N could speak, a woman about 5’11, in red heels and a tight dress came in, her hair raven and perfectly curled. Peter and Y/N’s eyes were on her as her hips swang as she walked. She grabbed a bottle of tequila and looked at Peter, giving him a wink.

“Heard you guys talking about the blip,” Her voice was deep and had an accent. Peter or Y/N couldn’t make out on where it came from. “I survived, but my associates didn’t… Came back and they were after me,” She spoke as she looked at Peter one last time and then she left. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up.

“What the hell was that about?” Y/N asked. Peter shrugged his shoulders, ignoring his Peter tingle. He just needed to enjoy himself. George came in, with fuzzy handcuffs on him and a funk hat on.

“Y/N! Peter! Come here we’re going to see Chelse slide down the stairs! On a mattress!” Y/N looked at George, considered and looked at Peter who just smirked and rolled his eyes.

“This has to be good,” Y/N laughed following George into the living room as Peter followed Y/N. There they saw a drunk girl, taking big drinks of whiskey from a bottle on top of the stairs on a mattress. George picked up the pot belly pig as everyone moved away in the direction.

“What’s going on?” Peter asked Y/N as she pulled Peter close to her side. Y/N just laughed as she petted, Banana, the pig.

“To everyone here! To everyone who still made friends with me after the Blip! You guys are truly amazing… This one is to Y/N, who’s dealt with my shit more than anything and to George who is now older than me and Y/N and I hate it!” Chelse shouted as she made her speech. Y/N just rolled her eyes as Chelse took another swig of the liquor and put it down. Then her friend that was behind her gave the matres a push and Chelse went down, luckily, not breaking anything down, only falling off the mattress halfway down.

“You’re such a dumbass,” George groaned.

“Hey, do you want to get some fresh air, Peter?” Y/N asked. “Can I take Banana?” George handed her Banana as Y/N and Peter walked out by the pool. A few people were swimming, some making out and some smoking a joint. “Having fun Peter?” Y/N asked as Banana snorted, making Peter laugh.

“A lot, actually. Thank you for inviting me,” Peter smiled, petting Banana.

“This is my typical Friday… Sometimes I get sick of it, but seeing Chelse do that… makes me laugh and Banana can agree,” Y/N smiled. “You probably never seen all this like this… doing Spider work,” Y/N claimed.

“Only a few high school parties here and there… nothing too crazy,”

“You work your way up to exclusive Hollywood parties,” Y/N laughed.

“Y/N?” Someone called. Y/N’s head turned to see her ex-boyfriend, Henry approaches her. She rolled her eyes. “I haven’t seen you in ages… How are you?” Henry asked.

“I’m well. You?” Y/N asked. Henry sees Peter as he looks at her weirdly.

“Is this your new boyfriend?” Henry asked.

“No… maybe. We’re just… hooking up,” Y/N said, regretting her words. Peter just nodded. “What brings you here, Henry?” Y/N asks

“Trish invited me…”

“Trish? Who is Trish?” Y/N asked, Banana giving him a snort.

“Tall, red heels, accent, raven hair,” Henry described.

“Ah, her,” Peter said.

“Tell your fuck buddy to get lost. I need to talk to you alone,” Henry snapped. Peter rolled his eyes and pushed his way back into the house.

“What the fuck, Henry?” Y/N shouted. “What do you want to talk about,” Y/N asked. Henry got close to Y/N. Y/N let go of Banana as he went inside. Y/N smirked, biting her lip.

“About us… I miss you,” He whined.

“Is that so?” Y/N looked at Henry with his brown eyes. “You missed the way I taste, I bet,” Y/N winked.

“You can say that…” Henry took Y/N’s chin and kissed her. Y/N knew it was wrong but felt so good. But before Y/N and Henry could go deeper, Y/N’s hair stood up. She felt something was off. Not because of Henry, even tho that is always wrong, but something wasn’t going well. Y/N pulled away and a vision of Peter and that women from before entering her mind. It clicked.

“I.. I have to go. Something is off,” Y/N ran inside, searching for Peter. He was no were in sight.

Y/N looked in every room, asked almost everyone. “George!” Y/N shouted. “Have you seen Peter anywhere?” Y/N asked.

“No… I saw him with this women. Tina… or Trish or something like that. He might get some action,” George said. He heart stopped. It was her. Peter was in danger and so was her.

“Where did they go?”

“Down the street… said something about a park,”

“Thank you, George… Peter is in danger,” Y/N ran out of the door, running down the street to the park. Y/N heard racket as it got closer, there Peter was fighting Trisha, a goddamn spy!

“You bastard!” Peter shouted, shooting his webs, but missing. Trisha had some men helping fight him. Trisha had Peter in a choke hold.

“Tell me who the other Spider-Man is, Peter! I know there is two of you! Where is she?!” She shouted, Peter, struggling to get out of the choke hold.

“I’m not telling you shit!” Peter shouted.

“I’m right here bitch!” Y/N shouted as she aimed her web shooters at her and aimed, landing on her arms.

“What the fuck is this?” She screamed, the webs burning her. Y/N did it again, her grip on Peter’s neck loosen up as Peter escaped, punching her in the face. “You two better be prepared. Me and my associates will kill you! This isn’t over!” She said as she disappeared in thin air.

Y/N ran up to Peter who was still catching his breath. He began to vomit as Y/N rubbed his back.

“What the hell was that about?” Y/N asked. Peter whipped his mouth.

“She knows… I think she’s working with Mysterio,”

“But he’s dead, Peter. You killed him,” Y/N said in disbelief.

“I think they're finishing his dirty work. Russian spies maybe,” Peter theorized.

“Let’s get you home… Call Happy” Y/N said, walking back to Y/N’s car. Y/N was still figuring everything out.

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker au #peter parker angst #peter parker imagine #tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland fluff #tom holland x reader #tom holland au #spiderman x reader #spiderman #spiderverse

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suckstobescotty · 6 years ago

Text

Sam Golbach - Finding Him Again

Word count: 2000+

Notes: meant for a male reader, no use of 'Y/n'

-----

Sam had been your best friend in 3rd grade. Well, actually, he was your best friend from 3rd to 8th grade. The connection ended because you moved away. Your older sister had gotten a scholarship to UCLA, being the supportive parents that they were your full family moved to L.A. to support her. Causing your seperation with Sam.

Leaving Sam broke your heart to its' core. You had no way of contacting each other and your parents said that you'd simply 'get over it'. You did make new friends but you often told stories of your time with Sam.

"So what about your old home do you miss the most? I heard Kansas was pretty boring." A girl you had met, named Devyn, asked. You had met her through a few other friends and were getting to know her more over a Netflix binge night in your apartment.

"Oh jeez. Um, I miss the fresh air and stuff. But I mainly miss the friends I had to leave behind. I only had a few but they were more than enough. 2 girls and a boy" You said describing them like they were your own kids and you were a suburban white mom.

"Oo. Tell me some stories." She begged and you laughed a little. Devyn was fun to hang out with. The Netflix show continued to play throughout your conversation.

"Okay hm. Well the girls were named Mariah and Katelynn. I only really hung out with them in class and we paired up in some work. The only crazy story I have with them is when we were 7 and a half and we were climbing a tree. We wanted to see what the sun set looked like up there. I fell out of the tree and broke my wrist and these girls didn't think right and they jumped down after me. Mariah sprained her foot and Katelynn was fine. She ran and got our parents who took us both to the hospital and I actually had to get surgery and I still have the scars" You showed the scars on the back of your wrist and she looked at them in interest.

"And the boy?" She asked curiously, sipping the tea like it was a mukbang.

"He was my best friend. For 5 years. We did everything together. We played games, did homework, cheated on tests, created a horrible band, had sleep overs, literally everything. His name was Sam. Well it probably still is, but you know what I mean" she laughed at your joke "the craziest story I have with him is probably the famous story of how we met. It was in 3rd grade that we met. Sam was a geeky kid and I was the kid that always played soccer. So when I was playing soccer against the wall I kicked the ball too hard, it slammed and went flying behind me and smacked Sam hard in the face. My instant reaction was to help him up and make sure he was okay and he was. I went to get the ball and somehow we played together? I think we invented wall ball with a soccer ball" You finished your story and Devyn laughed.

~~~

Devyn had been your friend for two years now. She was moving in with her boyfriend in his house where he had some roommates so you were helping her pack.

"So who are his room mates? Have you met them?" You asked curiously as you wrapped her mugs in paper for safe transfer

"Yeah I have. They're all super nice and kinda cute. Corey is the only one for me though. The others are Elton who is 25 or 26 and he's sweet, Colby is like an inner 12 year old child and he's nice, Aaron is sweet too and innocent, then there is a guy named Sam who is friends with Colby since like freshman year. " Devyn explained and you nodded.

"Sounds fun. 1 girl and 5 guys." You smiled a little as you closed the box.

"Yeah. I'm not the only girl though. Elton has a dog." You both burst out laughing. Soon you had packed the whole kitchen and Devyn was done her living room.

"Thanks for the help! Corey is coming by later to put it all in a truck. Once we are all settled in, we will hold a little get together and you can come by. Sound good?" She offered hugging you tight. You hugged her back happily. You were happy for her. You left to your sad lonely apartment again. The same one you had had for 4 years. You had a nice Cauliflower steak for dinner while watching supernatural and then went to bed. Life was boring for you.

~1 week later~

That name had been begging you forever. Devyn had said she lived with a guy named Sam now. You had tried to convince yourself that it wasn't Sam. It wasn't the Sam you had lost all those years ago. But you couldn't help but hope.

"Hey. You okay?" Devyn asked from next to you, as she was driving to her new home. Your car had been stolen 2 days ago, right out of the parking lot of target. Devyn had been driving you anywhere you needed since then. Which had only been home from target, and now to her new house.

"Yeah. I'm fine. Just thinking." You said with a smile, you were fine actually. You felt good lately, like something really great was going to happen soon.

"Okay. Well this is my street so we are almost there. It's just going to be everyone that lives there, you, and two of Corey's dance friends. So you're not the only guest." Devyn had learned quickly about your out-of-place anxiety. You were extremely anxious of standing out, simply because it always creates awkward situations.

"Oh cool. Thanks." Devyn parked in the driveway of a huge house and got out of her car. The house was bigger when standing up somehow. Devyn led you to the front door and opened it with ease.

"Welcome to my humble home." Devyn laughed gently. Corey noticed the presence in the house and came out of what you could see as the kitchen. He kissed her and hugged you. You had become close with Corey too over the years.

"I'm Elton. I run TFIL" a man with a beard greeted you. He had approached from behind Corey. You shook his hand and bro hugged him happily. He had a welcoming aura to him.

"Oh, yes. I saw a few of your videos before. Your dog is especially beautiful" You smiled and Elton nods before rambling about his dog as the 4 of you wandered to the kitchen and kept talking. Soon a man named Aaron joined after making some egg whites, which you suggested paprika for and Aaron had declared his respect for you on his soul.

"Corey where's Colby and Sam?" Devyn asked and Corey shrugged before walking to the stairs.

"Sam! Colby! Come join our guests!" Corey yelled very loudly. Devyn laughed a little. A few moments passed before a man with brown hair came down shirtless. His blue eyes were caught in the sunlight, so did his muscular torso as he came and sat down. You scrolled through twitter and sipped on a drink Devyn had got you.

"I'm Colby. Sorry for not being fully dressed" Colby introduced himself and laughed awkwardly.

You simply shrugged and responded "don't be. Seeing someone like you shirtless doesn't bother me." You smirked and Colby blushed. Corey snickered at the interaction. Then you heard footsteps coming towards the table and looked up to see a blonde approaching.

He was tall but not as tall as Colby, maybe 5"9. He was in a maroon sweater that said Now or Never on the front and some black skinny jeans. His eyes were blood shot and Colby instantly looked concerned.

"Sam, dude, what's wrong?" He asked worriedly as Sam sat next to him.

"Uh nothing. Just a call from my mom. We were talking about my childhood for a video and it just reminded me of old friends." Sam shrugged. Colby nodded abd hugged Sam with one arm. It didn't take long for some alcohol to be brought out. However you were straight edge. You weren't about to drink.

Devyn had thoroughly introduced you to everyone as her gay best friend. You didn't mind though. There was something about Sam that was like a magnet. There was a connection there and you swear Sam could feel it too. You caught him staring multiple times.

You took a final sip of your soda before putting it down and walking over to Sam "hey." You greeted trying to seem calm.

"Oh hey. Um, what's up?" Sam asked a little awkwardly. Not that he wasn't already being awkward standing against the wall at a get together in his own home.

"Nothing. I was just wondering if maybe you want to go outside? Corey has the music way too loud" You lied. The music was fine. You just wanted some alone time with him. Sam agreed and went to grab two new sodas out of the fridge. Devyn caught your eye and gave you a nod of encouragement.

Outside was a little chilly because of a coastal wind. However you were fine. Climbing to the top of the jumping platform, it was a silent agreement to just sit there and talk.

"So where you from?" Sam asked curiously. "Like now and before" He clarifies quickly making you smile.

"Oh um. Now I live in East hollywood in a little apartment alone. I moved here before highschool to support my sister with my parents. Before that I was in Kansas." You explained taking a sip. Sam widened his eyes slightly but nodded.

"I'm from Kansas too. I moved with Colby when we started youtube." He laughed gently.

The conversation continued smoothly. Little questions that seemed personal for two people that just met. Such as memories of the past, any favourite pets, etc.

"Okay this may seem really weird but what was life like before L.A.?" Sam asked curiously. This was the make or break question.

"Oh. Um. It was good. My parents have always loved my sister more. She succeeded in everything and I was only ever good at soccer. That's how I met my best friend in grade 3. I kicked the ball too hard and it smashed into the wall and then into this kids face. We played together since and grew up together. Supported eachother through thick and thin. In fact... I came out to him a few weeks before I moved. It hurt to move away because he and I grew up together for 5 years and I had to leave him behind." You confessed and Sam instantly teared up.

"Fuck.." He covered his mouth and tried to keep the tears away. Your suspicions were confirmed when he tackled you in a hug and you hugged him back tearing up too. "I didn't think I'd find you again" Sam whimpered. Tears were steadily flowing. You had found your best friend that you lost all those years ago.

- stop reading here if you wish for the story to end simply as friends -

A few minutes had passed before you both were calm enough to speak again. "We owe this to Devyn y'know? If I had never met her-" You started but Sam cut you off.

"Let's not think about that." He seemed scared of that thought. "I have a question though" Sam smiled.

"Shoot" You said leaning against the wooden beams in interest.

"Do you remember what your old best friend did after you came out to him?" He asked and you smirked

"Something like," You leant forward again "this" your hands cupped his cheeks and his lips locked to yours. Fitting together just like they had when you were 12. Your hands moved to around his neck as his pulled you closer by your waist. The kiss was deep, and filled with a love that had a depressing beginning but had never ended.

About an hour of further catching up on what had happened between ninth grade and now, and some more kissing, you both returned back into the house. Devyn gave a knowing look and wagged Sams camera near you both "reunion was filmed" she simply says before leaving back to a plastered Corey.

Sam offered some cuddling, some watching youtube, and a lot more catching up if you joined him upstairs.

"Let's go" You smiled and followed him.

#sam golbach #sam #sam & colby #sam and colby #fam 5 #trap house #sam x reader #sam golbach x reader #sam golbach x male reader #sam golbach x male! reader #sam golbach fic #sam golbach fanfic #sam golbach fluff #fluff

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cultgambles · 6 years ago

Text

Just The Girl

HMMM

I was listening to just the girl by the click five and idk man i was inspired ™ to write for roger.. Please be kind! This is my first fic for the guy…

Side note: I can never read x readers with real people bc i think it’s just weird but I can for roger? But like, I imagine him as Ben!Roger in specifically the movie and i guess it’s not real real? Anyway…enjoy

Requests are open (but i am slow) | i have a tag list too (she’s empty)

Warnings: none

Word Count: 1711

“Roger, what was that performance? C’mon, you can’t hold Freddie–a-and the band back,” Paul chastised.

“Well I think he saw a girl in the crowd he fancies. They never come to our shows, why did they decide to come to this one? Of course, it’s the one that’s not as spectacular,” Freddie chuckled.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Roger replied haughtily, stalking off.

“He knows,” Freddie whispered loudly.

Roger made his way to a nearby bar he had happened to see passing by. He ordered a beer and watched a group of girls stumbling over each other to reach a girl on the dance floor. He squinted.

“Wait. [Y/N]?” he shouted. Her head popped up from the crowd and gave a sly smile, pushing past the people surrounding her.

“Rogah Tayla! Nice performance today.”

He took a sip of his beer, “Eh, could have been better.”

“Yeah, but the part where you go ‘ready Freddie?’ Mmm, I love that part.”

Roger smirked slightly, looking [Y/N] up and down. “So, will you let me take you home tonight?”

“Hm, no,” they laughed, “I’ve got my eye on a cute girl I saw earlier.” [Y/N] pointed towards the entrance was. There were at least five cute girls Roger could see.

“Which one?”

“The blonde.”

“I’m blonde.”

“In the red dress.”

“I’m wearing a red jacket.”

“What is this, Taylor?” [Y/N] watched the girls dance for a moment and bid him a quick farewell. “Got things to do, ya know how it is.”

“Abbey! Wanna get outta here?” he heard them yell. Watched them wrap their arms around the blond chick’s waste and watched them place a kiss to apparently Abbey’s temple. He saw them both giggle and step out of the bar.

Roger threw back his drink and slammed some cash on the counter.

The night air was cold, biting at the tip of his nose and eyelashes. He kicked at the pavement. “Damn, that [Y/N]. How can she just lead me on like this? I mean, last week, we had a good bit of fun, but this week she acts like I don’t even exist. UGh! I’m sounding like a teenage girl. He thought of their laugher and was quickly pulled into a silent reverie.

“Wow, man, you’ve got it bad. We’ve been trying to get your attention for the past three minutes,” Brian coughed.

“How did I get back here so fast? I swear I was just outside the pub…”

“Bet he’s been thinking about [Y/N] the entire time then. Oh! Let’s call her up to hang out!”

“Nah. She went home with someone,” Roger shrugged.

“A guy?” John questioned.

“No. A girl called Abbey I think? She even kinda looked like me!”

“That’s cold, mate,” said Brian. Roger flopped onto the couch.

“Tell me about it. Remember when we had that school reunion and she pushed me in the pool? I couldn’t even wear my clothes after that they were so wet.”

“Oh, of course I remember that.”

“Well. I say we get this [Y/N] girl up here at some point to hang out. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever met em. What do they even look like?” Freddie questioned, twirling a glass of wine.

“Hm…They’ve got bright purple hair now…And they usually wear leather jackets?”

“Roger may always go for those ditzy girls, but I think he’s got a thing for bad girls.”

“Don’t they always wear dark lipstick too?” Deaky piped up.

“What? How does everyone know this girl but me? Roger, invite her over,” Freddie pouted.

“Yes your highness,” he responded, rolling his eyes. “Anyway, I’m going to bed. See ya guys tomorrow.”

“Invite her!” Freddie shouted after him. He turned back to the rest of his bandmates. “So, think he’s got a chance? They sound like a lesbian goddess to me.”

Roger was definitely not going to invite them anywhere.

“If I recall, they used to hook up sometimes during university. But then [Y/N] would disappear for a bit.”

“An enigma, huh?”

“Oh definitely.”

The next day was a day spent in the city, as the boys had no performances or tours. Freddie, like always, was eccentric and hounding on Roger to invite [Y/N] dinner.

“No way! I don’t want you blokes to embarrass me,” Roger shrugged.

“I’ll ask [Y/N], then,” Brian piped up.

Freddie clapped his hands together. “See? We’ve got at least one sane person!”

“Yeah. I’ll just call her up then.”

“NO! You will: not do that.”

“C’mon, Rog, maybe Brian wants to see his longtime friend. It doesn’t even have to be about you.”

“…Ugh. You guys are never gonna give this up, huh? Fine. Do it. I don’t care,” Roger threw his hands up in the air, letting out an exasperated sigh.

“Yessss!!!” Freddie fist pumped the air. “Bri dear, go on and call [Y/N] then!”

“Alright, alright.” Brian fished a couple of coins out of his pocket and stepped into the phone booth.

“Hello?” he heard their sleepy voice drift through the receiver.

“It’s me. Brian.”

“Oh! My favorite person. Why the HELL did you wake me up so early?”

“Uh, it’s noon.”

“Yeah! That’s basically the middle of the night!”

“What kind of clock are you on–no. This isn’t what I called to talk about it. Freddie and me and you to come over for dinner. Or go out somewhere. Your choice.”

“Dinner with the famous rock band? Sounds tempting, but I think I’ll have to pass.”

“I thought I was your favorite person?” Brian half smirked.

“[Y/N], babe, come back to bed,” another voice whined.

“In a minute, Abbs. Gotta go Brian. Don’t wait up,” and with that, the line clicked dead. Brian sighed, dropping the phone back into the holder and stepped out of the booth.

“Well how’d it go?!”

Brian could see Roger lift his head slightly from where he was leaning cooly against a building wall. “Unfortunately, it’s the middle of the night for [Y/N] and she doesn’t want to come over anyway.”

“Awe,” Freddie pouted. “Rog, where’s [Y/N]’s house? Deaky, what do you have to say about the matter?”

“I think we should leave them be,” Roger and John said simultaneously.

“You guys are no fun.”

In truth, Roger, Deaky, and Brian both knew they were practically under their friend’s building.

Deaky looked up, and could barely see [Y/N]’s retreating figure from the window. “Yeah. Leave ‘em be.”

“Ugh! How can she ignore me like this! And yet, she’s just the girl I’m looking for?!” Roger shook his head.

“Hey! You’re Roger! And the rest of you must be Queen, yeah?” A female voice piped up. Roger glared slightly, recognizing the girl from yesterday who [Y/N] took home.

“Yeah, and you’re that chick [Y/N] took home, huh?”

The girl smirked, “Yeah, what’s it to ya!”

Roger frowned and shrugged slightly.

“Roger dear is jealous,” Freddie whisper shouted.

“Shut UP! I’m not!”

“Not what?”

“[Y/N]!” Deaky smiled, side hugging them.

“Hey Deaks. What’s up?”

“Thought you were asleep,” Brian looked them up and down.

“Yeah, I was. But a certain someone woke me up.”

“OH! So you’re the infamous [Y/N] I keep hearing Roger talk about? I’m Freddie! Nice to officially meet you!”

“Rog talks about me, hmm?” [Y/N] smirked, pressing up against him. “Hey, Taylor.”

“Hey, [Y/N], wanna go get coffee?” Abbey asked.

“Nah, you go on ahead. I’ll see ya later,” they said, throwing up a peace sign.

The girl pouted a bit, but mumbled a ‘see ya later’ and went on her way.

“Why don’t you grab lunch with us then? I mean, while you’re here,” Roger stuttered.

“Awe, that’s cute,” [Y/N] said, patting his cheek. “Guess so, I’ve got nothing better to do. Besides, now there’s two gays in the house. That means….”

“More trouble!” Freddie chimed in.

“You’re bi though…” Brian laughed.

“Eh, saying I’m gay is easier than explaining I like guys and gals. You know how it goes.”

“No…not really.”

‘Whatever, Freddie understands. Right, Fred?” In response, he laughed and nodded, saying something about the gay agenda.

The gang decided to get sushi, the rest of the boys silently agreeing to force [Y/N] and Roger to sit next to each other.

“Thought you guys wanted to wait for dinner, but now we’re having lunch? Wild,” [Y/N] said, kicking up their feet on the chair adjacent to them.

“Well. Obvious change of plans,” Roger snorted to which [Y/N] rolled their eyes.

“You guys already act like a married couple,” Freddie commented.

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’m not.”

“Anyway, I can’t wait for your next album, guys.”

“You listen to our stuff a lot, then?” Deaky asked.

“Uh yeah, you guys are amazing. Don’t let it get to your head though.”

“Too late,” Brian laughed, watching Roger glean with pride.

The group stayed for a couple hours, and [Y/N] bailed early because of their job. “Bye guys. Bye Roger,” they said, kissing him on the corner of his mouth.

Roger gestured to [Y/N]’s retreating form wildly. “They’re a mystery! Maybe they’re too much for me?! Why do I keep coming back to them?!”

“Ya just got it bad, man,” Bri laughed, patting him on the back. “I’m sure it’ll work out. Eventually.”

“He’d wait that long,” Freddie said, elbowing him in the side.

“I’m sure [Y/N] had a good time, so we’re probably gonna see more of ‘em,” Deaky said, “I’m kind of excited. We haven’t hung out in a while. You know, with becoming famous and all.”

#bohemian rhapsody #borhap #bohemian rhapsody fanfic #roger taylor x reader #roger taylor #x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #imagine #freddie mercury #ben hardy

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beaubcxton · 6 years ago

Text

“You’re so brew-tiful, Snow.”

For @recgulus on her birthday. I love you & I hope you enjoy this 5.8kish mess. What is canon, right? Also, I made Simon say Crowley because I really like the word even if it doesnt have any context here. This is rushed but like, enjoy.

It happens on a Monday. Of course, it does Nothing good ever happened on a Monday. Simon should have known to keep his head low on a day like this. Children sobbing was the welcome tune that announced the beginning of a new day, fingers stumbled on the steering wheel; a sign that the night before might have been exhilarating but now was just, tiring. Mondays were like the thorns in a bed of roses.

Back in the day when his dad was still decent, his father warned him to take care of himself. ‘Nothing like a Monday, mate. Can’t smoke or drink, can ya?’ And Simon had smiled toothily at his father, shrugging off the advice like it was dust that had found its way onto his coat.

He really really shouldn’t have done that.

Reason 1: His mom died two years ago in June on a Monday.

Reason 2: Agatha broke up with him last week. Surprise, surprise! It was on a Monday!

Reason 3: He just spilled hot coffee on the fittest guy in the world on a fucking Monday aka today.

---

“Simon!!”

Feet wheeling automatically at the familiar voice, I extend my arms right in time for Penelope Bunce to fling herself against my chest. Her giggles send a row of vibrations in me that shudder each bone. I-weirdly- find myself inhaling her hair as if to assure myself she’s there. (She smells of watermelon and ink. Typical of her to do something study related even on vacation ) I shift uncomfortably in the hug, her phone digging in my arm.

Pen is my best friend. Been since we were tiny tots. She'd been gone for nearly a month. Being the only person who included me in social ongoings also known as parties where you could get wasted, Penny was the Jake to my Boyle. When conversations had the opportunity to become awkward and stifling, Pen was pretty cool to divert my attention. We'd video called at least five times a week this month.

She pulls back, grins still wide on both of our faces and surveys her surroundings.

It’s earlier than I would like it to be; it’s just barely afternoon and I’ve been awake since dawn. It’s a tiny cafe, huddled alone with its vivid hues of orange and brown amongst the grey concrete building. Good for business. Unlike the outdoors, the interior of the cafe’s temperature induced warmth and placidity. I usually notice several kids hunched and pored over their studying material. Textbooks that hid their anxious face from view are stacked on the tables, their coffees long since drained but I rarely pay attention to it, opting for my ‘want a free refill, mate?’ chime. Employed at the beginning of fall, I was given only a few days to suit the shop with the atmosphere outside. Pumpkins decorate the cashier desk and they’ve been carved to look like famous people. My favorite one is the one that looks like Miley Cyrus. Strings of lights, the ones you get in IKEA fall from the ceiling casting a mellow glow in the gloominess of the upcoming winter.

“I can’t believe you work here now.” She huffs, still having a staring competition with one of the pumpkins. Taylor Swift must have won because my best friend snaps her gaze towards me as if waiting for an explanation. I know where she's going with this and I have no intention whatsoever to get into it. It'll just end with her storming out or worse so I just hum in agreement or whatever she expects from me.

Surprisingly between tucks of hair and another staring completion with Shawn Mendes, she tells me, “It’ll be good for you. I hope, at least. You’ve been a mopey mess since Agatha, now don’t give me that look Si. You know it’s true. I told you not to get involved with her but-“

I will my jaw and heart to loosen. “Missed you Pen.”

Her teasing and motherly grin could light the whole shop up. “Micah and I missed you too.”

My smile wavers. Right. Her boyfriend in America. Really decent bloke, always up for the occasional drag though he’s a right wanker when he’s reading a book. We get along swimmingly. And it's not like I like like Penny but whenever she talks about Micah, it reminds me of my recent break up with Agatha. Someone who I thought I'd spend my life with. For fuck's sake, we're twenty-three. I'd be Pinocchio if I told you that I didn't go ring shopping.

“Simon?” I run a hand through my hair and grimace when it comes out sticky. I haven't talked about Agatha since she broke up with me.

“I’m alright,” I say and conclude the statement by sending her a shaky smile. Penny looks wary but doesn’t do something weird like putting her hand on my shoulder or lending me a hug. I’m grateful for it but also resentful.

The door tinkles and-

“Simon Snow?”

My first thought is ‘Fuck me.’ My second is ‘I’m going to act like a dunce. Crowley, this boy knows my name.’ And my third is nothing.

I go blank. Nada and nil, both poetic wonders dance from my tongue. Penny pinches my arm. I can see her smirking and hiding a giggle but I don’t reproach her for it. Not when Adonis is standing right in front of me, his muscular form a barrier against the cool wind he’s brought with the open door. With slanted eyebrows and thin lips, he looks like someone you’d see in portraits at castles, despite the smirk on his face.

“Simon Snow?” He calls out again and I watch mesmerized as his mouth opens and pronounces my name. I flush. It’s probably in my best intentions if I don’t drool over a customer and with hardly any cool, I raise my arm up like a moron and squeak out a “Here?” like we’re kids and back to roll call.

Super Fit bloke- as I recently decided to call him in my head- shifts his searching glance and focuses on me and I almost reel back in surprise. He’s wearing a hat that shadows his features but even blind, I’d recognize him anywhere. His eyes are grey and unlike anything that I’ve seen. It’s like a storm in there and I’m captivated by observing them. It’s so different watching them up close, up person in daylight than stalking his Instagram profiles at 2am. And his hair is carefully messed up in an extravagant manner, dark and shiny locks peeking out lazily.

I'm speechless. This is the best day of my life.

“Bastillon Pitch?”

My mouth blurts the words out but I suspect even if I had time, I’d say those same words. That same name. Do you know who is standing in my-not mine but you get the point- coffee shop right now? Award winning and three-time Oscar nominee, Bastillon Pitch. He has nine million and seven thousand followers on Instagram (not that I would know) and he’s been called to Ellen which he’s refused, by the way. For all my understanding (and obsessive knowledge) about him, I could never understand why he would do that. I mean, who refuses Ellen? That’s like refusing chocolate. Only a few months older than me, he’s the youngest actor to star in so many bloody iconic movies.

The man grimaces and looks around to see if anyone’s heard my exclamation but that would be ridiculous because the only people in the room are him, Pen, me and two ladies with floral blouses and wrinkled fingers. The latter are deep in conversation and are stealing glances at us occasionally to check whether we’re eavesdropping. They’re loud so that’s taken care of. In the seventeen minutes that they’ve been there, I’ve learned that they are lesbians whose gay son eloped with a girl. I'd like to say that's the strangest thing I've heard but it doesn't even rank top ten in today's conversations.

“I go by Baz and shut up, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Rathe dumb, aren’t you? You’re the barista here?” His voice is smooth and dark like wine drunk on a summer night. The tone, however, implies he thinks I’m incompetent. It’s like he’s trying to convey, ‘You? You’re the barista here? Seriously?’ I feel like I’ve been slapped. Hurt and embarrassment course through me simultaneously.

It’s not every day that one gets to meet their fucking celebrity crush but well (I like boys too, you see) I imagine I’m handling it rather well, never mind that my face is probably beet red and I’m this close to stammering. Don’t give me that look. ‘Baz’ Pitch is literally an icon. He’s acted in several movies and he’s so good at it that I get goosebumps watching him. And Crowley, I’d be lying if I said he wasn’t the fittest person I’d seen in my life. 10/10 ass and a perfect asshole. I don’t think I can handle his fucking beautiful lilt this early in the morning what with Agatha presence still ghosting my mind. Bastillon Pitch or not.

“Yes.” I bite. “Why?”

“Just expected a bit more, I suppose. Most baristas have a uniform” He breaks off suddenly and stretches hard like, his shirt literally goes up and I have a view of strained muscles. Crowley. I’m staring at it so hard I’m not aware he’s speaking till he coughs. Shit. I want to wipe that smirk off.

“You seem like the type of guy to like Brooklyn Nine-Nine but you don’t even wear a uniform so I can’t consider you a true fan. Seriously Snow, who wears that to work?” His mouth is opening and closing but all I hear from him is the sign ‘I’m a prick.’

“Sorry, we can’t look like posh assholes all the time.”

He rolls his eyes again at my attempted jab. “You-“

“You know,-“ I interrupt loudly, “-I wonder if you keep rolling your eyes because you’re trying to find a brain back there.”

The asshole grins and I’m disarmed by the beauty of it for a moment. His teeth do not contrast well with his tanned appearance. They look almost yellow in the dim light of the coffee shop but they’re sharp. I oddly wonder if he’s played a vampire. But then I know he’s not. I’ve watched all of his movies. Twice. Okay, thrice. (And maybe a few more times after that)

“Touche” As he walks towards me, I can swallow my disgust. He’s so damned tall. Seriously what was the point of these people with their ridiculous heights of six foot when I, a mere mortal was just five foot one? (I never said I wasn't dramatic.) “I didn’t expect it from you. Soft, aren’t you Snow?”

Pen, the traitor is nicely backing away.

“Soft?” I splutter manically even though I know being soft is wonderful but Bastillion Pitch cannot know in any universe that Simon Snow is soft. It would not bode well on his impression of me.

He grins wolfishly. “Shame.”

Shame? Shame? What does that even mean?

His sudden bark of laughter shakes the bloody walls. “Flustered, mate?”

Oh. Oh. Pen has long since retreated, thankfully because I wouldn’t feel like quitting if she was here. It’s just like the universe to make the (EX) love of my life an arse who has no consideration for my feelings. I admonish myself for sounding like a sap.

“I only get flustered in front of cute. Hot, hot people.”

Predator smirk combined with no reply sets me on edge. “What do you want?”

“Good grades but I already have them. Do you, Snow?”

I try not to let the bitterness seep into my tone. Of course, acting isn’t enough for the Great Bastillon Pitch. He’d have to study and rank too, possibly. I couldn’t understand why he’d need to work with all that money.

“Stop calling me that.”

Damn, how does he raise just one eyebrow?

“It’s a name, Snow. Surely, even you know what their purpose it?”

What? I’m so confused right now. I rack my brains and ask myself if I’ve done anything to warrant such behavior but I come out short. Did I bump into him on the street and not apologize? Kick his dog? No to both because I’d remember being a shithead. I don’t want to be on bad blood with Bastillon Pitch, however, so I try to rein my irritation in. Maybe we got off on the wrong foot.

“What are you majoring in?”

He stares at me. Blinks. Stares. “I want to become a lawyer.” He draws out the words like he thinks I’m a moron.

Who knew it’d be hard to have a conversation with Bastillon Pitch? Not me.

“I think you playing a vile asshole has rubbed on your in real life personality.” This time, I’m teasing.

His laughter is a sound I’ve not heard before. It’s warm and cold, both at once like he’s rarely had the opportunity to full on laugh, uncontrolled and unpracticed and he’s not sure how to excel in the skill. I think that irks him, not being able to control it because he stops quickly though I won't forget how, for a moment, his eyes crinkled shut and how his fingers curled in. I shiver.

It’s like someone has clicked a button on his personality. His face becomes a mask of nonchalance. “Coffee.” He orders. “Tall and with milk.”

Disappointment finds its way to me. Despite the ongoing insults, it was exciting to spar with someone. I’m just usually bored here. I grind the dusty little machine on (it’s certainly not Starbucks material) and waits for the hum that it’s working before I assemble the milk and sugar, distinctly aware that eyes are trailing me.

“You’d be a good lawyer,” I say suddenly as I pour a teaspoon of milk in, anxious to continue the conversation. His eyes widen. “Make people all mad and that. That be two pounds.”

His lips twitch as he silently hands over the money. I draw up the bill and as I’m handing over the coffee, full to the brim in a paper cup. His nails brush the desk as he leans forward, breath warm against my cheek as he murmurs, “You’ve got a nice arse, Snow.”

And because, I’m Simon Snow, because I’m a walking disaster, because Bastillon Pitch is an asshole who deserves it, I splutter and my hands shake for one infinite second before the cup goes down, falling and the piping beverages jumps onto Baz’s leather clothes.

Times stops in that standstill of a second. Nothing moves. In that second, I’m not an idiot but the spell is broken and I realize what an A class clown I am.

“You’ve got a little coffee there.” I murmur, mortified as Bastillon Bloody Pitch stares at himself for several seconds before his charged animal eyes hook me in place.

“What the fuck, Snow?”

I splutter maniacally, flinging drool here and there. Sending a plea to the ground to swallow me up, I stumble in my haste to get some towels. I start to dab one on his chest and flush when I realize I’m essentially touching his breasts. I am touching Bastillon Pitch, Oh my Gosh.

Do not think about that, Simon Snow. Do not think about that.

Baz pushes me off and tugs the towel and wipes himself. He’s snarling and his eyes have darkened but I (shockingly) notice pink coloring his cheeks.

“Rubbing it won’t help, Bastillon. You’re supposed to dab-”

“I reckon you’d know a lot about this. This your ninth time dropping coffee on a customer? And I go by Baz, how many fucking times-”

I raise my hands and back away. He seems almost embarrassed but I do not want to be in the way of an angry ‘Baz’ Penny, please be there. “I’m sorry. Coffee’s on the house.”

“THERE IS NO COFFEE, TO BEGIN WITH!”

Well, he has a point there. I concede defeat and murmur apologies. Baz drops the towel on the floor like a wanker and storms out, the door slamming shut behind him and the texture of frost whipping across my face for a millisecond as I process the previous events.

The old ladies are looking at me and grinning. I bury my hands in my face and groan.

I could not catch a break.

---

“Snow!”

Fuck. What is he doing here? I shut my eyes for a second, try to collect any calm in this universe and curse softly.

“SNOW!”

I move out from the kitchen and press my apron, hastily. The warm aroma of coffee ground hits me as I step out the door and face to Bastillon.

“Hey.”

He sneers. “Where's the apron?”

My eyebrows pinch together and I look down at myself, just to double check. I had worn it.

“What are you on about, mate? It's right here.” I say and gesture to my clothes.

Surprisingly, Baz flushes and growls out, “Where's my apron, you moron?”

I know he's trying to be a really tough boy and crap but whenever he growls, it sounds really cute, almost like he's imitating a baby bear. I have the sudden urge to pinch his cheeks and coo over him.

“Snow!”

He even has the personality of a bear.

“Sorry. Lost in thought. What did you say?”

Baz shutting his eyes will forever be one of the most dramatic and exaggerated actions in the world. It's like one of those slow things. First, he twists his fingers and they curl around the table. Then, his lips purse. All the while his eyes are slowly shutting. Maybe, he took classes for that.

“I said,” He manages to say. “Where the fuck is my apron?”

Sighing, I run a hand through my hair. “Look mate, I can make you a cup of perfectly fine coffee, provided you don't startle me like-”

“Urgh!” Baz implores to some deity. “I’m working here, you dumbass.”

I freeze.

There is no way I heard correctly.

“What?”

“Fucking Crowley.” He murmurs, throwing his look downwards.

Just when you think life’s picking up, when you finally move on from the incidents of yesterday and go a few hours without this complete and utter arse, Bastillon Pitch drops in and says, “Hey! I‘m going to work with you. ”

“Please tell me you’re joking.”

“Crowley, I'm going to need to tell my aunt about you.”

Somewhere inside me, my heart stumbles. “What?”

“My aunt?” Baz smirks. “The owner?”

Are you serious? Someone up there had it out for me. Embarrassment rings through me.

Pinching my lip, I have a revelation about what I must do. Alrighty then. I give him my apron and resign. Guns and Roses blare in the background as I do this mighty and heroic deed. I leap off the platform, pluck my sunglasses off and kiss the mole on Bastillon face because no matter how much of an asshole he is, I will forever be attracted to him before I pull away and slam the door on my way out.

Well, I imagine all of this. Could you tell? I really cannot believe my luck. Now, his aunt who I assumed was a perfectly good woman is going to fire me and I’ll live on the streets for all eternity. Staring at how happy Bastillon looks with the bombshell he's just dropped doesn't help me in the slightest. Moving to get him an apron, I throw it towards him and cross my arms as a thought strikes me.

“When did you start?”

Chuckling low and warm, Baz pulls the apron on top of himself and smiles. “And here I thought you were dull. Yesterday.”

Xxxxxxxxx

We’ve settled into a routine. Baz and I. It’s really just one rule though we’ve found it hard to obey. Do not interfere with the other.

Sometimes, I’m making coffee when Baz leg brushes against mine and while both of us turn pink, I choose not to say anything while he goes into a rage about how I’m an imbecile who hogs all the space and how ‘you hog all the space with your fucking stupidity, Snow!’

So I’d retaliate. The other day, for example, he’d asked me for a cuppa. He was on break and by obligation, I had to make him one so I set out to make a cup of tea when this brilliant idea struck me. I boiled the gatorade up and put it in a cup with sugar on its side. Waiting patiently as he raised his eyebrows, sipped the tea and then, spat it out, I couldn’t help but feel vicious satisfaction.

We play a bunch of games too. Not the friendly ones that children in playgrounds do but the ones that people with no lives and who thrive on annoying their rival do.

One of them is the growling game; every time, we roast each other and someone doesn’t retort but growls, loses. The other is The Quick Game; we have a tally on who serves the most customers. So far, Baz is winning by a marginal. (a lot) My favorite is the Embarrassment Game; when we’re talking to customers, we tell them ridiculous things about the other. Baz, of course, started it first. He had told one of my favorite customers that I’m a rather dull kid and his aunt had hired me in pity. I had told the next customer he was gay. He, surprisingly, didn’t have anything to say to that and we haven’t played the game since.

---

“You’d think that a barista would know how to make a cup of coffee.” Baz is saying to his aunt, Fiona who is coincidentally my boss. Did I mention that before? We’re at her office, not because she’s called me though that was what I was led to believe, cue angry glare at the boy on my left. “But Snow dropped the whole fucking mug, sorry, freaking mug on me on my first day and I had to go home.” Baz added, opting for a pout.

Crowley, he looks brilliant. Bugger. We’re playing the Embarrassment Game again and I am not ready, for once.

I try to display some professional mannerism. Might as well look good before I was fired. Still, I feel melancholic as I rack my brains about my future prospects. What would I work as now? Who’d want to hire me? The guy who can’t hold a cup of coffee? I wouldn’t hire me. I can’t help but feel resentment towards Baz.

“Simon.” Fiona reproaches, leaning forward, hands crinkling some papers as she does so. I liked Ms. Pitch. Despite her hubris and ridiculous attire; fluffy clothes that suited a ball venue and not a coffee shop, she was sweet when you (really) got to know her. Never in my wildest dreams would I imagine her to be connected to Baz Pitch. It was typical of my luck for my rival’s aunt to be my boss. “I am very disappointed in you.”

My eyes shut, ashamed. You’d think I’d be used to it, right? The shouts that I’m not good enough but-

“You should have poured the whole bloody machine on his head. He certainly deserves it!”

Baz’s eyes widen proportionally while my mouth drops open.

“What?” We both articulate.

Ms. Pitch goes on as if she hasn’t heard out exclamations. “I thought I couldn’t love you anymore. I was wrong.” Her eyes fixate on me and I stare back, stupefied.

“Go on, then! You have a coffee shop to run.”

As I’m leaving, she says, “And Simon? Expect a raise soon.”

The door slams shut before I can express my stupefied gratitude. I think of going in, again but then I hear Baz’s groans and protests and my feet express a desire to get away, as quickly as possible.

Xxxxx

“Hey, Baz?” I begin, crumpling the cupcake wrapper in a ball and stuff the cake in my mouth. We’re on lunch break now. Sitting right in front of me is Baz though his focus is on his phone and not me. It’s a real pity. Is my sarcasm obvious? I wonder if he’s hungry. Looks like he’s starving. That would explain his pallid color. I know he’d prefer sitting away from me but it’s either here, in the kitchen or outside and attending to people. Every introvert’s worst nightmare. “Baz?”

He rolls his eyes at his phone and cranes his neck upwards. “What, Snow?”

I tsk. He’s like a fucking crab, always ready to bite my head off even though I’m perfectly pleasant. I suspect that even if the Queen of England were to knock, he’d slam the door in her face, grumbling about something.

“Do you ever eat?”

Surprise flashes in his eyes before he scoffs. “No, Snow. I don’t. I’m a vampire and I drink blood.”

I grin toothily at him. They’re probably yellow and red, resultants of the red velvet cupcake and gummy bears I had for lunch.

“Always knew you were a soul-sucking monster.”

Baz turns back to his phone though I can see a hint of a smile at his lips.

---

The other day, word got out that the Bastillon Pitch works at a humble cafe so we’ve been swarmed by teenage girls. Baz, true to his credit, threw them a stellar personality before he said rather dismissively, “We’re closing early! Technical issues.”

I had thrown him a look. “Baz. We worked at a cafe.”

“No shit, Sherlock.”

I rolled my eyes and sent his fans a smile but they ignored me. “Can you sign this, Baz?” “Baz! Will you marry me?”

The requests were strange but Bas took them in stride. Soon, we had most of them out but camera lights still flashed in out direction. When we decided to close for the day, Baz and I lazed about in the room. Him working on study material and I worked on getting my Tumblr theme.

“I don't understand what those girls see in you.”

Baz barely spares me a glance as his fingers click the keyboard.

“I’m an actor, Snow.”

“And a real-life vampire.”

Baz grins. Hides it. “What are you studying?”

“I don't go to college anymore.”

“Oh?” Baz seems surprised. “If you wanted money, you could ask-”

I don't know if he's jesting or being genuinely kind but it stings me, regardless. “I don't want to go.”

“Oh.”

---

“Sorry! I’m latte!” The pun comes naturally as I burst in the coffee shop, almost an hour late. The bell tinkles as I run towards the cashier.

Baz is leaning against the counter, no customers in sight. It’s a slow day. But apparently, I’ve made a horrendous mistake as Baz folds his arms over his chest and stares me down, the textbook picture of condescension.

“Thank Crowley” I breathe as I pull over my apron. Normally, I’m not late. I’m really not but today, right as I was about to leave the flat, Agatha comes barging in, tears cascading down her pretty face. Her mascara was smudged so I’d known she had been crying for hours.

“What’s wrong?” I had set her down on the sofa and went off to make some tea. That’s all I’ve been doing lately. Agatha started going on about how she missed me and agreed that maybe, we should have given us another shot.

“Let’s get back together, Si, alright?” Agatha had said, staring at me with those bluebell eyes I had grown so accustomed and fond of seeing.

And then, I had a revelation. I did not want us anymore. It wasn’t so much that I was afraid of being hurt again but something else. I had moved on. It felt weird because I was so used to being in love with her, I forgot the feeling of not loving her. And, this feeling was so great I wanted to giggle but I couldn’t do that, not with Agatha flooding my apartment with her tears so I had steered her out and said very softly, mind you that ‘No, I’m sorry, Aggy but no.”

Now, here I was, still panting and victim to ‘Bastillon Pitch Full On Glare’, something I did not want to ever see. He’d looks like he’s swallowed dung. So fucking angry.

“I met up with Agatha.” I say, shortly. That does not dissuade him in the slightest. If I had to say, he looked even angrier. I had rambled about my ex to him in the past weeks. I wish I hadn’t.

“Oh,” He says cooly. “And, I suppose the lovely pair has gotten together again?”

“I didn’t want to.” I pacify him and he cools down, slightly.

“Oh.” He sounds like Christmas has come early. Wanker.

“I can’t expresso your attitude-”

Baz groans. “Stop with the fucking puns, Snow. You’ve been on them since yesterday.”

“And you’re still not used to it? Oh, bugger.” I mock a sympathetic sigh.

And then out of the blue, he says something that sends my heart which is already pounding a million miles per hour, race again because he’s looking at me like that and the twat leaves the room after he says it, like he knows I can’t chase him after the bombshell he’s just dropped.

He stares me right in the eye and says, disinterestedly, “I’m gay.”

Xxx

Ever since he’s told me he’s gay, I feel like something’s changed between us. Do I tell him I’m gay or bisexual too? It’s gotten awkward. I tried to talk to him and transfer the message that I’m not homophobic to him but he gets all clammy if I’ve walked two steps up to him and begin with ‘Baz?’

Normally, I don’t let this bother me. We get on each other’s nerves. Totally normal if I kept persisting. But he looks genuinely uncomfortable and he probably regrets telling me even though I don’t know why he’s told me in the first place, to begin with. I steer out of his way the rest of the day.

As the day progresses, he gets even more on edge, nearly snapping at an old lady who couldn’t see the menu. I try to manage the orders and let him work near the machines. But after, he kicks the machine that we all know doesn’t work, I give up trying to soothe him.

When two people have filed a complaint, I almost facepalm. My killer headache helps in making my day worse. With that and Baz’s mood swings, there’s nothing more I want but to go back home. But of course, that’s when the day gets worse.

It’s nearly night when Fiona rings us up. She rarely comes to the shop but does her paperwork at home. Efficient and tactical.

Baz picks up the phone and I can hear Fiona’s distant chattering but I focus more on Baz’s darkening face. Suddenly, he slams the phone down and tells me, “Close down.”

“It’s not 8pm, yet,” I state, dumbly.

“Fast, you imbecile.”

“But-”

That is, of course, when the lights flicker off and we’re buried in darkness. Baz’s shadow stands out prominently, in front of me and his groan followed by a curse, splits the air.

“Blackout.” Baz explains when I continue staring as he drops on the ground. I rub my eyes and lean against the counter. This was perfect. Fiona had installed those automatic doors today in the afternoon, the ones that functioned on electricity so we were locked in. Two rivals trapped in a room together. Maybe, once I went insane, psychologists could study me and they’d be shocked with the observations.

And maybe, they'd be surprised at how much I still like Bastillon Pitch.

---

Charcoal darkness has winnowed in and coated us with anxiety and tension. There were no curtains so we’d stumbled behind the counter, afraid and weary.

“Sleep in the kitchen?” I say as we’re munching leftovers.

“You can take the kitchen.” He's talking to me. “I’ll sleep here.”

Scoffing, I nudge him with my foot which apparently sets him off. “Don't be ridiculous, Baz. We’re thin enough to fit in the kitchen.”

It'll be cramped and we’ll be arm to arm but I wager we’ll manage.

Baz tears through the bread with his teeth. “Fine.” He bites off.

My foot starts to sleep so I shake it.

“Would you stop doing that?” Baz murmurs after a few minutes. He sounds agitated as he rubs his head. We’re just sitting in darkness now, doing nothing but analyze each other.

“What?”

“Shaking your fucking foot, Snow. I'm trying to sleep.”

My jaw clenched. He was so infuriating sometimes. “You are not sleeping here.”

“Oh?” Baz scoffs, curling into the wall. “Since when do you care? You’re always running after-”

I let out an angry cry. And I don't think, I do. I want him to shut up. Surging forward, I notice how Baz’s monologue starts to delve. He has his eyes shut, I faintly register before I tilt my head and kiss him.

Bas stills and sags beneath my palms like I’m draining all of the oxygen in him. And Crowley, he’s so warm. I care, I try to tell him. You're the sun and I'm crashing into you. You mean so much to me.

I'm leaning over and when he doesn't respond, I pull away, disappointed and embarrassed. He's breathing heavily and I can see his grey beautiful eyes stare at me, wide with shock. I'm stumbling to get away when I fall into his lap. Pushing away, I’m horrified and about to fucking shoot myself.

All I can think about is how the door is locked and I'm trapped with a guy who's probably going to sue me because I assaulted him and oh my god, what am I-

“Snow.” Baz murmurs.

“Here,” I repeat like so long ago.

“Snow, what the fuck?” Baz is already departing his wall. At least, he’s engaged in being frustrated.

“Look, just don't tell the table-”

Baz tsks. “You’re such a moron, Snow.”

I splutter but then he kisses me.

And my mind goes blissfully blank.

---

We sleep in the kitchen that night, my arm draped across his body and his fingers twitching for me.

There’ll be time to talk about what I am, what we are later. How it’ll affect the press and other matters.

For now, it doesn't matter. We don't care. It's just us, two boys who’ve found solace and whose heart aches for the other, suspended in the dark, in time.

It's Baz and me.

#ahsdaosdhfao im even more sorry for this lmao #mine #lotte #carry on #simon snow #snowbaz #snowbaz fanfiction #bastillon pitch #baz #simon x baz

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lordendsavior · 7 years ago

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Olly Alexander, the frontman of the British band Years & Years, has blood-red dyed hair. He wears a brass safety pin through one ear and sometimes grins so widely, so wildly, that the edges of his mouth seem to disappear around his narrow, fine-boned face. What soon draws the eye is a scar on his forehead. “I ran into a brick wall as a kid,” the 27-year-old says over lunch at a cafe in London. He touches the scar. “I was playing at being a Power Ranger. Ouch.”

These days, Alexander plays at being a pop star – and on the surface, at least, it seems like a game that’s going well for him. With the launch of their first album in 2015, Years & Years enjoyed a really remarkable few months. They were named BBC Sound of 2015 in January, promptly going to No 1 in the UK singles chart in March, and likewise topping the album chart in July. The band’s propulsive, 90s-nostalgic dance pop (like Disclosure or Clean Bandit, only up the randiness and add a little disco) caught on. And Alexander made a quick Meghan Markle-like ascent to something like pop royalty. “One of the most influential gay pop stars of this generation,” the Gay Times wrote. “All hail the King!”

Years & Years are a three-piece – also made up of keyboard and synth player Emre Türkmen and bassist Mikey Goldsworthy – but it has always been clear that Alexander is the band’s guiding force, their chief lyricist, a Gaga-like taker of risks when he performs and a political voice, off stage, who has an appealing, glitter-speckled sense of activism. A pithy and witty speaker on LGBTQ+ rights, Alexander has also opened up engagingly about his struggles with mental health. “A lifeline to troubled young people,” the Observer wrote of him, in 2016, around the same time that Years & Years played at Glastonbury. There, Alexander wore an oversized choirboy smock strung front and back with rainbow-coloured ribbons – it was Pride weekend – and made a widely admired speech about battling prejudice. “Shove a rainbow in fear’s face,” was how he put it.

Musicians must pray for debuts like this – to come over credible, commercial, with real-world clout. No brick walls clattered into, no obvious “Ouch” moments. Or were there?

Years & Years are almost done on their second album, due this summer, and from the demos I’ve heard the new music admits a brittleness and vulnerability in Alexander that wasn’t so obvious on the 2015 debut. He is still a fabulous and steely man when in pop-star mode (at the photoshoot, he prowls around in heels and a collared lace bodysuit that make him resemble a steampunk, space-bound Queen Elizabeth I), but he cuts a shyer and less certain figure at lunch.

He arrived with a cigarette pushed behind his ear, and smoked it outside with quick, jittery puffs. Now he hunches over a salad, an elbows-in kind of eater and a nervous giggler. Of his pop-mode confidence, he says, “I wish I carried that around with me in my day-to-day life. But I don’t.” He’s wearing a pair of dungarees that he likes, he says, because they feel “like clothes that give you back a hug”.

As Alexander eats, he talks about what happened in the aftermath of that famous Glastonbury performance, once he was out of public sight. The band had been cheered off, a career high. And once backstage, the musician recalls, he sat down and wept. Inconsolable, feeling lower than he’d been in months. “It happens,” he shrugs. “A falling off a cliff. The pendulum swings.”

“When I was younger,” Alexander says, “I thought that if you were famous and successful, it would mean that you just felt happy all the time. That you would become, like, this mystical creature that people just adored. And so you would adore yourself.”

Alexander doesn’t always make eye contact, and he addresses this next bit at the napkin dispenser between us.

“Obviously I realise how ridiculous that sounds. But it wasn’t until our album got to No 1 that I realised I still believed in it. We’d basically won the lottery. I felt like I’d won the lottery. And at the same time I still felt like the same person I’d always been. And all the things that I associated with my depression, and my anxiety, those periods of feeling really low, they were still there. And I was so annoyed at myself. ”

Alexander talks about first discovering the transformative, strengthening power of a good costume. It was on a trip to Disneyland, when he was nine. “The greatest experience of my life up to then,” Alexander says. “The pomp! The whole make-believe nature of that place. It was very powerful for me.People were all wearing costumes, playing characters. It was this other reality where fun things happened, more than they seemed to in real life. And I just remember wanting to be a part of something like that.”

Theme parks were a big feature of his young life. Alexander grew up living next door to them, not one but three, first Alton Towers, then Blackpool Pleasure Beach, then Drayton Manor. His father helped launch and market new rides in these places, and the family moved wherever the work was.

He was born in 1990, the younger of two sons. His mother ran community craft groups. His father, while employed in the theme parks, tended side dreams of being a professional musician. Of his father he says, cautiously: “Quite a difficult man... Definitely not happy within himself.”

Alexander is more explicit about his own early troubles. “I used to have hallucinations and hear voices and stuff as a kid. Which sounds alarming, but it’s just the way it was.” Also: “I had what would now be called sleep paralysis, from six years old until maybe I was 16. Terrifying dreams.”

His parents separated when Alexander was 13, a daunting and confusing period for him. “My dad had been very absent, even when he was there. Then he left the family and moved away. Our relationship, it feels to me, ended when I was 13.” With his mother and brother, Alexander relocated to a sleepy village in Gloucestershire called Coleford.

Part of Alexander’s conversational charm is that he’ll veer between the frank and sober discussion of the self-doubt and difficulty he experienced as a young man, into brilliantly catty and droll little anecdotes about his upbringing. Here he is, describing his first paid employment – a Saturday job in a Coleford shop called Moonstones. “We sold incense, candles, spellbooks. Um, bongs. Chocolates shaped like penises. Everything you’d need really – a one-stop shop.”

He wasn’t a popular teenager, and was bullied at his secondary school in Coleford just as he had been at his old primary schools. He marvels, thinking back, at his response to this. “I started wearing eyeliner to school. Nail varnish. Choker necklaces.” He put on a costume: a counter-intuitive form of self-defence. “I’d been bullied for years and all I wanted was for that to stop. But at the same time I had this sense that I was different, I was weird, and wearing makeup and crazy clothes was my way of trying to find an identity, in the face of people who were going to rip me apart anyway.”

What brought him out of his “goth phase”, as he calls it, was the music. Alexander chuckles. “I could never really get on board with the bands you were supposed to like.” He couldn’t shake the love for pop music he’d developed as a pre-teen, when pop bands would visit the theme parks his dad worked for. “Remember [the Irish pop band] B*Witched? They came to open a ride once. Then Steps – I got all their autographs.” So when it was time for the school talent show, Alexander chose to sing a TLC song. At home he obsessed over Christina Aguilera videos. He was pop through and through, and wanted to be a star in the mould of all these heroes.

Half by accident, he embarked on a different artistic career first. At 16, Alexander auditioned for the Channel 4 drama Skins, and was in talks about a role. The job didn’t materialise until he was well into his 20s, when he was cast as a creepy student photographer, but meanwhile his agent put him up for other stuff. By the time he’d finished his A-levels and moved to London, he was getting varied work – in Gaspar Noé’s Enter The Void and Laura Wade’s The Riot Club and a corporate video for Google, playing a confused consumer who didn’t know how much he needed the advice of a really good search engine. Probably his peak as an actor came in 2012 when he was cast in a Michael Grandage production, Peter And Alice, alongside Judi Dench and Ben Whishaw.

This West End run coincided, in Alexander’s breezy telling, with the busiest period in his romantic career. “Lot of sex.” He had known that he fancied boys from the age of about 10, though the concept of being gay was something only introduced to him via playground insult; he can remember drawing stick figures in a geography textbook, bewildered, trying to figure out how two men could ever even manage it. These days, Alexander says, “my sexuality is part of my music, part of my identity”, but this was a clunky journey in its early phases and it wasn’t until he arrived in London and got into a first relationship, with the brother of a friend, that he felt he could properly come out to those closest to him.

After that – whoosh. “I figured out that I could pull, basically. It wasn’t as hard as I thought it was going to be. I realised that, actually, everyone’s pretty horny, pretty desperate at times, and all you needed to do was maintain eye contact and be confident and that was kind of it.” Since then, he’s sampled romance in many of its forms, being single and shagging a lot, being single and not shagging so much, being in an open relationship, being in a celebrity relationship (with Clean Bandit’s Neil Amin-Smith), being in a quieter relationship with somebody unknown – that was the most recent, and it came to an end about 18 months ago. What has he learned? “That the longer you’re single, the more you notice how everyone else is in a relationship. But that’s a whole other thing.”

He says he finds it harder to pull in clubs without the freedom of anonymity he used to enjoy. “I’m having much less sex than I did in my early 20s, for sure.” He’s tried the hook-up app Grindr, but the men he messaged with wouldn’t believe he was who he said he was. “So that didn’t go very well.” After years of living with flatmates, he recently moved to live on his own, in a flat in east London. “The last few months I’ve been wondering, ‘Will I just be alone, for ever? And would I be OK with that?’ I want to be OK with that.”

Thinking of how ill-informed he felt as a kid, and of the anxiety he might have been spared had he only known more and known better, Alexander has resolved to be a public figure who is as vocal and open about his sexuality as he can be. As soon as he was asked, in an early-career interview for a blog, he said he was gay. (This was actually how his beloved grandmother found out: Alexander hadn’t yet got around to telling her.) Last year, he made a BBC Three documentary, Growing Up Gay, that is still on iPlayer and gets broadcast around the world. “I get messages about it at weird times of night.”

Soon after our lunch, he’s due to give the keynote address at an annual Stonewall event. He hasn’t written his speech yet, and is still toying with points of view he might want to get across: that LGBT-inclusive sex education should be compulsory in schools; that LGBT support groups need more government funding than ever; “that yes, we can get married now, but that’s not the end of the story, that’s not gay rights done.” When the event does take place, Alexander will speak about how, as a young actor who went through media training, he was told it might be best not to speak about his sexuality at all. (“I ignored advice.”)

Alexander made an interesting choice, in 2013, when major labels started showing an interest in Years & Years. He entered therapy, specifically in anticipation of what a frontline music career might do to his fragile emotional state. Polydor were still six months from formally signing them.

He knew fame was coming, though – that early?

No, he says. But if there was a chance of the band making it, however slight, he reasoned he’d better be prepared. “And I’m grateful I made that decision. I’ve been seeing the same therapist through the whole process.” Through the band’s kick-starting anointment as the BBC Sound of 2015, then their smash No 1 single King that spring, then their No 1 album Communion that summer. “To go from zero to 100. To have an idea of what success is, your entire life, and then it happens to you. It’s overwhelming. There’s a lot of noise. And people start talking to you differently.”

Which people?

Alexander laughs, frowns – speaks at the napkins again. He starts talking about his dad, with whom Alexander went through an awkward episode after Years & Years topped the charts. By then, father and son had no relationship to speak of, Alexander says. They hadn’t said a word to each other in seven years. “And, um, my dad started tweeting at me.”

A pause. “It’s hard for me to talk about. It’s a hard issue, because it’s tied up with my family, and also his new family. I want to be respectful.”

He doesn’t sound sure whether his father even knew whether what he was doing was public; but anyway, he messaged him over Twitter, in full view of social media. “And it got really, really messy. There were some Years & Years fans who started tweeting him back, trolling my dad. He was talking back to them. It was a real head-fuck.”

However clumsy the timing and the method, was a part of Alexander gratified that he got in touch?

“The best way I can describe it is that when me and my dad last knew each other, when I was 13 or 14, that’s frozen in time for me,” he says. And back then, he continues, he couldn’t have imagined any better future for himself than becoming a pop star and having his father want to be a part of his life again. “But then he did get in contact with me. And it was then I realised that what that 13-year-old wanted, that wasn’t actually possible. Not any more.”

What did the 13-year-old want?

“I realised that a part of me wanted to be successful in music because my dad wanted to be a musician. That a part of me thought, if I became a musician and I did well, he’d be proud of me. Or he’d, y’know, be so sorry for not being the dad I wanted him to be.”

But that’s not how it felt?

No, he says. When they did come together, Alexander noticed that, “I’d become something that my dad was sort of intimidated by. I’d been wanting to be successful, in part, because I wanted to prove something to him. And when that happened, I realised it didn’t feel good, it just felt like… like I’d tricked somebody.”

Listening to demos from Years & Years’ new album, there’s a sense that fatherhood has been much on Alexander’s mind in the aftermath of this episode. Person-to-person, the musician says, he and his father “have very, very minimal contact” right now. But a dad figure stalks the new work. On one song, Alexander sings about breaking with his DNA. On another, it’s as if karmic retribution is being summoned and directed at a “daddy [who] said I never could win”.

Yeah, he says, his father was foremost in his thoughts when he wrote that one. But he’d been thinking, too, about past relationships, those various boyfriends he’d dumped or been dumped by. Alexander sees a clear thread running through it all, from parental to romantic difficulties. “I guess at its heart it’s just not really being able to trust someone who says they love you. If that’s something that’s ingrained in you, then I think it’s hard to get past that.”

We’re finished with lunch. Having travelled deeper into his psyche than he expected to – “normally I would have these mental conversations alone with myself, in my flat” – Alexander starts to wonder about another cigarette, and pats the pockets of his dungarees. I tell him that, yeah, I can see why he might choose to wear clothes that feel like they hug. He smiles.

Before we stand up and gather our things, he asks to add a couple of “bookends” to what’s been discussed. That he experienced a lot of love and support, growing up, from his mother and grandmother. (“I feel I have to say that: My mother loved me! She tried her best!”) And also that he’s profoundly grateful to music, to his band and their followers, to the rainbow smocks and lace bodysuits and the whole pop palaver, for the release-valve it has offered a troubled mind.

“There’s a lot of quite raw emotion inside me,” Alexander tells me. “Obviously. And most of the time it can only come out in these tiny little cracks. One of those cracks – that’s the music.”

#this is such an amazing read #i cried #i love him so much #btw i didn't know he smokes #olly alexander #a human rainbow

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sweatytyrantwhispers · 4 years ago

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Part 4 of things my friends do that make me love them even more:

- both rachel and cristine are artistically talented and i cant fucking wait to see them become famous doing the things they love (i know theyll becoem famous i believe in them tht much) (rachel has a great singing voice; cristine has a great singing voice, knows how to play various intstruments, loves acting, and can paint/draw amazingly)

-seth tells me some catchphraes his fav youtubers say whenever we talk

-none of my friends (nor I) knows how to react or what to say most of the time, especially when it comes to gift giving and compliments; we’re all oblivious and awkward people that don’t understand society

-andy messes up on what to say to customer service people when its evening/night time cus we usually go out around tht time but he’s used to sauing have a good day

-andy also hates intersections so he’ll pretend hes walking in the other direction (away frm the intersection), stand on the sidewalk and pretend hes doing something, or take a whole other route if theres a car nearing the intersection bc he says it feels awkward

-rachel’s favorite animals are dogs and raccoons so when i send her a post abt raccoons she gets rly excited and says she wants to hv a raccoon as a pet when she grows up. She also gets excited when i point out a dog to her in public (she cant see it cus no glasses but still excited by its genert presence)

-dina is scared of lightning so I always try to ask her if shes alright when theres a thunderstorm

-when we go to the park, rachel almost always tries to make tiktoks. We always end up interrupting and annoying her while she makes them though, sorta like our little routine.

-last time we went to the park, rachel ended up accidentally hitting meng and I directly on the face with the volleyball (its ok though cause im pretty sure we’ve ended up accidentally hitting each other with the ball at least once)

-when i got hit with the ball dina asked me if i was ok but as she moved towards me she went for the ball (we were playing monkey in the middle and she was one of the monkeys); its just funny and i love that our friendship is at a point where we could laugh about it and everything is fine

-i told my friends that i was depressed before going to the park to hang out w them. when i got there i kinda just sat on the ground looking through reddit with music on high. they all tried their best to talk to me and tell me funny stories (they said they overheard a group of kids talking about how they pantsed another dude) to cheer me up. Dina and Rachel both decided to give me a hug at the same time and i toppled over. Dina gave me a hug again. I love them so much

- Andy called me while i was in class to tel me to look at the sunset. Its something that both of us have done a few times because we both love sunsets and usually see them when we’re out. Its a small thing but it makes me love my friends even more.

-I was on voice call with Rachel on discord and she laughed then sent the group chat a link to a tiktok

-(not my friend but my mom) She knows that i hate it when things are thrown out when they’re still good or can still be repurposed. Someone brought flowers home for some reason (i forgot why) but she was putting the flowers in a vase one day. Some of the flowers broke off the bigger portion of the stem and couldn’t be put into the big vase but she put a bunch of them into a small container for me and gave it to me. I loved it even though we did hv to throw it out like a few weeks later.

-My friends and I were at Central Park and we were waiting for my two friends to finish up taking pictures. Meng and I were taking a short nap (him sitting down w his elbows on his legs and me w my head on his shoulder) while we waited. We also shared my earbuds to listen to my music. I was p sleepy so I was on the verge of sleeping my also sorta aware of what was going on (mainly cus we were guarding our stuff while everyone else was taking pictures elsewhere). I was doing that thing you do when you’re nodding your head while trying to stay awake/go to sleep. I kept on doing that until he eventually sat up a bit more and pushed my head onto his shoulder better

-Samir looked at a shirt with george washington on it and confidently said that was benjamin franklin

-Dina was talking about how she kept on eating shrimo and peanuts even though she has a mild allergy to it. Rachel and I were telling her to stop and tht we’re not bringing it to the picnic on sunday cus we dont want her dying. She responded, very confidently, tht she “hasnt died before”

-Samir calls dina “d-money”

-Rachel gave me a hug as an im sorry for taking so long. (I genuinely didnt care cus even tho they do take a long time i still v much love them)

-Rachel takes tiktoks and videos of us while we’re out

-Rachel and Dina both got v the excited when i wore a skirt out today because I usually dress more masculine

-A few weeks ago (i think) my friends and I were at the park. I was trying to do something to meng and tripped and fell on the park ground (the part where there’s basically a bunch of tiny rocks on/in the floor). Meng was also trying to do that thing where two people hold a person’s arms and legs and swing them back and forth with me but forgot that if you take someones legs off the floor with no one else holding my arms, i would fall head first onto the park ground, which i did. Both times I laughed at myself but everyone rushed to me while laughing. Idk why but it made me feel like I was ok and safe, even if i was in so much pain, srsly i couldve had a concussion.

- Rachel and I both got excited bc we both wanted to got to the same college

-I call andy when im walking home by myself at night (or when the route im taking doesn’t necessarily hv a lot of people of lights) and he just vibes with me (sometimes talks to me abt how i should b home) until i get home safely

-idk if i already put this but Andy and I have a safe word when we think there might be someone behind us following us at night bc one time when walking home we thought tht and used our now safe word to see if there was someone

-Rachel and Dina do this thing where they take their hand and go from the side of someone else’s body (where the arms are) to the bottom of their legs rly fast while theyre walking. They call it “full body stroke”. They shared it w me and now we do it to meng almost every time we go out. Sometimes we do it together (one person per side).

-While at Central Park there was a dude that was singing (he was rly good). He started singing “Lean on me” by Bill Withers and my friends started singing along with him.

-Rachel sent me a tiktok knowing full well that itd make me gay panic bc yk ✨w o m e n✨

-Dina, Alan, and I stayed out after everyone else went home cus yk they were tired. Dina and I decided to talk like white girls/pick me girls the rest of the night with their stereotypical voices. We laughed the entire time and created weird storylines including: Jessica (Dina), Olivia (me), Jayden (Jessica’s boyfriend and brother that created on Jessica with me and Nicole), Nicole (Jessica’s friend), Olivia’s dad (a convicted felon in all 50 states and is dead), Jessica’s dad (a lawyer that’s also running for president, and Alan (he was just roped into our bs and was there to act like the dude that we both wanted to have as our bf).

- When we were in the bathroom and washing our hands, Dina waited until after the other woman in the bathroom to leave before coming up to me and, in a discreet whisper, told me that the soap was what “good pussy sounds like”

- Rachel, Dina, and I saw a few cats on our way to meet up with Alan and we played w the cats for a bit before one of them said “pspspspsp come here alan” to one of the cats. We now do this frequently to each other even though we hate it.

- We have corrupted each other to the point where we cannot hang out without someone saying “that’s what she said”, something about Dina being white, “just like this dick”, and “deez nuts”. We laugh about it a lot

- Rachel and I are both reasonably out of energy both mentally and physically after our jobs so when I walked w her to a mall w the rest of her friends, we both walked silently with a bit of catching up cause we both understood how the other felt

-We had a water balloon fight today at work (Alan, Rachel, and I work together). Obviously, I took the chance to pop as many balloons over rachel’s head and dump water on her. She tried to spray me w water using a water gun though. Afterwards gave the towel i brought to rachel cause she needed it to change. It’s important to note that rachel has purple hair right now and that the towel was white. key word: was. The towel was now stained a light purple (I dont mind but damn)

- i made rachel a purple raccoon by crocheting it (purple and pink actually). I finished it yesterday (sunday) and gave it today to her at work (monday). I opened the door a bit and peeked my head in with the raccoon just below me in my hands. She was confused at first but then saw the raccoon and her eyes lit up. It was rly cute🥰🥺 to see her get excited. We both nicknamed the raccoon “pimp jr.” and i made a lil name tag/from to tag that said it.

- rachel likes to lip-sync to music shes either listening to or hears in store and sometimes does a little dance with it. Its so cute and I love looking at her do it because it reminds me of why I adore her. She also goes hard when it comes to singing at karaoke. Like damn her vocal range is astounding

- dina got so excited when i asked her if she wanted to binge watch all the twilight movies with me. She looked so cute cus its one of her favorite movies. ugh i love my friends.

-a lot of dudes have crushes on rachel and dina and the both of them usually just try their best to avoid the person or avoid confronting them. Idk why but it kinda makes me feel grateful that I’m close friends with them because I used to have a crush on both of them before when we first met. When I told them i used to have crushes on them they didn’t act weird about it or anything and we continued to be friends. I’m so fucking grateful I’m their friend despite my initial crush on them cause they’re two of them most amazing people I’ve met my entire life.

-rachel, meng, alan, and I went to go watch Shang Chi in movies. In the last few scenes (which were v tense btw) rachel nd I both got rly anxious and squeezed each others hands bc we were scared out favorite characters were gonna get hurt. She squeezed the fuck out of my hand to the point where I couldn’t feel it anymore and neither could she. I’m ok with that though cus I’m glad she finds comfort in squeezing the living fuck out of my hands.

-dina, rachel, and I have matching bracelets from hot topic and i see them wear it almost every time we hang out. Alan and I have a matching pair too but I dont think he’s going to wear it very much (issok tho).

-We went to karaoke yesterday and I dont know how I just realized this but while she’s singing, dina likes to move around a lot. It’s not exactly dancing but not particularly just moving around. Its kinda like that tiny thing ppl do when they’re alone and playing their favorite songs on blast. She’s so cute when she does it, esp because she seems so happy when she does it. Even though I absolutely despise Justin Bieber, I would play his songs over and over again on blast if it made her as happy as she has made me.

-dina and I like to go to the swings and blast “Happier Than Ever” with earbuds in (we share a pair for this) and she screams along to it for the second half

-it’s become a “tradition” for us to go to the swings (most of time) after we’ve done the initial things we already planned out because dina and I love the swings.

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acsversace-news · 7 years ago

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June 1995, Milan. Gianni Versace "casually" informs Donatella that he's "arranged an interview" with The Advocate. When she doesn't react, he mumbles, "For gay readers." "To say what?", she asks challengingly. "That the built-ins on this season of ACS are as envy-making as your stereotypically Versace pink butterfly blazer is hideous," Gianni does not say, although he could,

because these floor-to-ceiling jobs make me want to book a ticket to Italy like now. Mystifyingly, there is no sideways-rolling ladder with which to reach tomes on the higher shelves, but of course this isn't the point of the scene; the point is that Gianni has never said in so many words that he's gay, and that Donatella doesn't think he should do so "to print, to publish." Antonio D'Amico smirks as Donatella picks up her cigarettes and crisply points out that she handles publicity for the company. Gianni shrugs disingenuously that it's not about her, but Donatella isn't going for it: it's about more than him. She's annoyed that he didn't consult her, and now he's annoyed, clanking down his espresso cup and snarking, "What would you advise?" Yes, Antonio echoes, "What would you advise?" Donatella side-eyes him and theorizes aloud that it's Antonio's idea, that he wants to "be famous" as "Versace's lover." For 13 years everyone's mistaken him for Gianni's assistant, he grumbles, and Donatella snorts that apparently his pride is more important than the company. The sniping continues, Antonio saying he's not trying to become a public figure: "I know my place. Unlike you." Donatella cocks her head and asks at four degrees Kelvin, "And what is my place," at which time Gianni bangs a chair and snaps, "Enough!" No more fighting over this: it was his idea.

He asks Donatella to walk with him, and she stalks after him with that weird colicky gait women get who wear too-high heels every day. He wants her support, but she notes that his company supports all the people working around them -- and they have stores opening in countries where homosexuality is illegal. What if he's denied a visa? What if the stores can't open? Gianni is momentarily taken aback, and asks what she really thinks could happen. She says the rock stars, the actors, "the royalty whose endorsements we cherish" might not want to associate with the brand. Gianni shrugs, "Unless we keep Elton," but Donatella doesn't see the humor; he lives "in isolation," and has forgotten what the real world is like. He tries to argue that the women they design for are "fearless," and when Donatella says it's not the same, he asks, "Is the brand Versace braver than the man?" She doesn't have an answer for that, but when he stalks to the other side of the atelier, she follows, asking if he's angry at her, or the world. She goes on to wonder what his "admission" will cost when they take the company public. Gianni says, not terribly forcefully, that she's exaggerating, but she reminds him of Perry Ellis's final show, Ellis dying of AIDS, too weak to walk on his own. "His most important show" in many ways, Gianni murmurs, and certainly it is as far as its value as a reference in this season of ACS -- Ellis, who died in 1986, remained in resolute denial about his illness and that of his longtime lover, whom he had seen into the ground earlier that year; at that point in the life of both the epidemic and the culture, that approach was probably the default, at least for public consumption -- but Donatella's point is that, after that, people stopped buying Ellis's clothes. "Some people," Gianni says. Many people, Donatella retorts. Some, Gianni insists, and walks away from her again.

Why now, she wants to know. "Because I was sick. And I didn't die," Gianni says. It's a miracle. He has a second chance now. Why is he alive -- to be afraid? No. He's here, and he "must use it."

After the title card, we return to 1997 -- four days before Jeffrey Trail's murder. In a crappish motel in San Diego, Andrew Cunanan is seated in grimy underpants on a nubby chair surrounded by trash bags, prepping a needle full of drugs and grandly reassuring an American Express account representative that he just needs enough money to get to Minneapolis.

He's going to visit his "two best friends," one of whom owes him more than ten grand; then he can go back to being the best customer ever. As the Amex rep skeptically repeats that he's asking them to extend his credit so that he can…repair his credit, the camera lingers pointedly on an expensive watch on the floor. Cunanan distractedly taps the needle to rid it of bubbles as the rep verbally eye-rolls that she has to consult her supervisor. Cunanan chirps that he'll hold, and injects himself between his toes. I assume this is included to show both his alleged drug involvement and his much-ballyhooed ability to charm all and sundry, but I ran into some American Express credit trouble in college and was on the line with their reps almost daily, assuring them that my latest low-double-digit payment from my pizza-delivery job was winging its way towards them and please don't make me declare bankruptcy as a 20-year-old. Like, if I convinced them to let me chip down my balance 13 bucks at a time? I'm...not that charming. This is eminently doable by civilians.

Cunanan gets up, surveys his closet, and starts taking down armfuls of suits and shirts, still on their hangers. Do people actually do this? It seems like an only-onscreen thing. In any case, the removal of the last armload of blazers reveals a mini-crazy wall consisting of the very Advocate article the Versaces were arguing about before.

That pic at the top left, that looks like IRL Cunanan, should maybe have been cut, no?

In a warehouse, Jeff Trail is hoisting heavy canisters onto shelves. Later, he's not laughing alone without salad at a picnic table above the work floor when a co-worker joins him. Jeff notices the guy's tattoo as an armed-forces design; the guy notices him noticing and asks if he served. He did, in the navy, and kind of overshares about the USS Gridley and how he's sort of sad she got decommissioned. So he misses it? Every day. Why'd he leave? "I dunno," Jeff grits, and admits he regrets it, but when the guy begins to say he was never going to become an officer, it gets awk in a hurry with Jeff interrupting that he was an officer, and adding that his brother and sister are both in the armed forces. "You married?", the guy asks, probably concluding that it was Jeff's spouse who wanted him to leave the service, then. Jeff parries that, but the guy asks again why he left, especially to work "in a place like this." This place is okay, Jeff glares, but the guy's like, but for an Annapolis grad?

Jeff, icily: "I made the decision." The guy tries to smooth it over by saying his wife always tells him he asks too many questions, but Jeff just repeats over him, "I made the decision -- okay?" The guy apologizes for offending him and offers to "leave it there," but Jeff can't, leaping to his feet and shouting again that he made the decision, loud enough for other co-workers to look up from their lunches.

After lunch, Jeff is loading canisters, zoned out, when he's told "an Andrew called" -- he says he'll see Jeff at the airport.

That's where we see him next, as he greets David Madson with a fond arm-squeeze. David didn't think Jeff would come. Neither did Jeff, Jeff says disgustedly. David doesn't get why Cunanan's coming there, but Jeff's like, he has nothing and no one and everything he's told you is a lie. David gets that, right? David: "Do you even like him?"

Jeff sighs that Cunanan was "there for" him once, and he owes Cunanan, but it's not the same. David feels "kinda sorry" for him. "Don't." He's lonely. "For a reason," Jeff says, adding that after this "for old times' sake" weekend, he's done with Cunanan. David's like, he's here for three nights, ugh, and Jeff says Cunanan can have his apartment, Jeff will stay with his sister, and not to victim-blame here, but if you don't want to deal with Cunanan because he's a grifter, you put him up in a hotel, not at your house when you can't keep an eye on him and/or your belongings. Cut to Cunanan emerging from the crowd with a step almost Michigan J. Frog in its peppiness as Jeff asks David not to tell Cunanan where he is: "He's so crazy, he might just show up."

Asterisking this point is Cunanan's desperately cheerful sing-songing of "The three amigooooos!" and overly handsy hug of David. He hugs Jeff next, choosing to ignore Jeff's stiff reaction, and burbles about how much fun they'll have this weekend: "It'll be just like old times." Jeff's all, nah, and says he can't hang out with them. Cunanan asks why not. "Aside from everything you've done?" David looks down as Cunanan feigns ignorance.

Jeff says he's away 'til Sunday at a sales conference, but he'll be sure to send Cunanan a postcard. Cunanan lamely asks if Jeff's "still annoyed" about the postcard he "accidentally" sent to Jeff's dad signed "Drew, kiss kiss." "I made a mistake!" David rolls not just his eyes but his entire head as Jeff brings out his keys, saying Cunanan can stay there tomorrow night. Cunanan doesn't get why he's not staying with David; David says without much conviction that he's busy "seeing a friend." "Wh-who, what friend?" Cunanan presses, but despite this inability or unwillingness to take a hint re: David wanting to get it in with, y'know, not him -- or, more to the point, David's obvious trepidation at drawing that line brightly, or at all -- Jeff still hands Cunanan his keys, then walks off without another word. Again, I don't mean to cast aspersions on Jeff Trail; nothing he did either doomed him or could have saved him, or any of the others. I've found myself in similar situations, feeling like it's easier to just go along this one last time and then get down to the ghosting once s/he's left town -- especially when s/he's presenting as a dishonest but not noticeably dangerous asshole. I have the benefit of a hindsight of which Jeff was deprived by Cunanan, as well. That's the frustration: that it can't be undone, couldn't have been undone. Or that maybe it could have gone differently -- if Cunanan weren't so easily able to leverage the doors of the closet against his targets.

Sometimes they swing back and hit him, though, as we're about to see when he and David return to David's loft. David snuggles with Prints for a minute, and Cunanan takes the opportunity to fish that expensive watch out of the top of his duffel and make a big show of having "gotten" (read: stolen, we'll no doubt see in a future ep) David something. "Open it!" he says with an antsy body twitch that is almost endearing, except that he's horrid. David seems to know that it contains an emotional bomb as well as whatever's literally inside, and is initially speechless at the sight of the watch. Cunanan has assumed that awkward stiff-armed stance again

as David struggles for words. I'll note here Orth's Vanity Fair piece's assertion that, "though Madson was at least two boyfriends away from Cunanan by the end of April, he continued to accept gifts from" Cunanan. I still haven't read Orth's book, and perhaps she's more nuanced therein, but I'm finding implied judgment in that locution, to the effect that David "shouldn't" have taken gifts from a man he wasn't involved with, because it sent mixed signals -- or meant that David wasn't a quote-unquote perfect victim, the saint the newsmagazines are always looking for. Well, it probably did send mixed signals, and David probably wasn't perfect, because none of us is -- but here again we see Cunanan's victims a) not knowing what we know, because it's not what anyone tends to assume, and/or b) accepting overly generous gestures from Cunanan because it's less uncomfortable than rejecting him or questioning the gifts' provenance. The scene we're watching/cringing at here perfectly illuminates not only why Cunanan's victims might have had over-the-top "presents" from the killer among their possessions, but why Cunanan for the most part continued to skate on outrageous behavior.

Behavior like…refusing to read the room, because when David snaps the watch box closed and pulls a nauseated face, then goes to refill Prints's water bowl, Cunanan bustles over, picks up the box, and goes into cheesy-proposal mode. David's response is a glorious "ehh-whennnnhhhh?!" look from Cody Fern

at which Cunanan has the presence of mind to stammer that he doesn't have to answer right now, he can think about it "for the next few days." David's like, it's against the law, so. Cunanan shrugs: "Who cares about that?" "Everyone," David exasps. "Well, I…don't!" Cunanan says, and Darren Criss throws in a tiny shoulder shimmy here that is so eloquent vis-à-vis Cunanan thinking this damn-the-homophobia-torpedeos declaration will win him his case. David's like, again: no, "it's insane," and Fern's unwittingly Australian inflection of "in-sein" is rather winning. Cunanan is hell-bent on ordering a sweet roll, however, and babbles that they can call it a commitment ceremony, then. David tries to explain that "it's not -- the term" as Cunanan Manson-lampses at him and blares, "Then what is it." "The idea of you and me," David finally is able to say. His expression unchanging, Cunanan pauses, then tells David to keep thinking about it over the weekend, and then "if for whatever reason it's a no," he can keep the watch as a thanks. ..."Whatever reason," indeed. Thanks for what, David asks, exhausted. For turning Cunanan's life around, Cunanan duhs, then shares that he got a new job, a claim David doesn't believe; as Cunanan keeps lying about his new condo in San Francisco, David wearily closes his eyes and nods to himself. "I'm a whole new person!" Cunanan desperates, fastening the watch onto David's wrist. "And all I need -- is someone to be a new person for."

At his sister Laura's gorgeously porched house, Jeff surveys the family pictures (including one of Laura in uniform) in the hall, then takes the linens he'll be sleeping on from his pregnant sister; he doesn't want to be any trouble. "It's no trouble, I love that you're here. Why are you here?" his sister asks, easing herself onto a sofa. Jeff admits he's avoiding Cunanan. She snarks on Cunanan's postcard "mistake" trying to out Jeff to their dad. Jeff says grimly that he's not going to hang out with Cunanan, but Laura has Cunanan's number and Jeff's, telling Jeff he shouldn't let Cunanan have "that kind of control" over him and that Cunanan "was threatening" Jeff with the postcard. Why doesn't Jeff just tell their parents he's gay himself? Jeff knows what they're going to think. "They love you," Laura snorts, which, no doubt, but also: easy for the het sibling who's furnished grandchildren to say, even if she's correct. Jeff changes tacks, saying it's not the right time: they're so happy about the baby. It's her baby, Laura says, so as his superior officer she's ordering him to do it. "I'll think about it," Jeff says. "You've thought about it enough," Laura grumbles. Again: yeah, probably, and she's not a bad guy here, but…you know. Your loved ones' coming out is not about you. Jeff rolls his eyes, then tells Laura's belly, "I'm looking forward to being an uncle, so. Much." He smooches the belly -- aw -- and rests his head on it, listening…

…which makes the overlapping cut to the polka palace in the next scene pretty hilare and cuts the sadness nicely. Too bad we're about to be marinating in uncomf. David and Cunanan climb the stairs into the joint, Cunanan babbling that it's such an original idea, and it feels "special -- memorable." David quashes that line of thinking ASAP, saying it wasn't his choice -- his friend picked it. Said friend is his co-worker Melinda, who appears out of the crowd to greet David, and he introduces Cunanan as his "friend, Andrew." "'Friend,'" Cunanan repeats with a full "this guy, amirite" head-and-shoulders eye-roll, and says he's more than a friend. Everyone's "…k" faces do not deter him from grabbing David's wrist, still with the watch on it, and raising it to eye level to brag that he got it for David "to show how much he means to me." He adds quote casually, "It's worth ten thousand dollars." Melinda says, "Wow," and shoots David a quick, merry "by which I mean 'wow, you're gauche'" look. The silence in which nobody knows how to respond to Cunanan goes on for quite some time…

…and then we mercifully cut to David and Melinda polka-ing amateurishly and laughing a lot. Then it's into slo-mo, and the distorting of the soundtrack, as Cunanan tries to arrange his face into a "isn't this a hoot" shape but ends up Starmanning, as usual.

Later, David orders more beer and speculatively watches Cunanan from the bar as Melinda heroically tries to make conversation: "So what do you do?" Almost daring her to call him on it, Cunanan lies that he makes movie sets; he's working on Titanic down in Mexico. "And you're here for David?" "There's no one I love more," Cunanan confides, which at least is in the same area code as true. David returns with three steins, and Melinda fills him in, giving gorgeous "pfft" tone to "We were just talking about movie sets in Mexico!" "Mexico?" David says, glaring at Cunanan, who thinks for a second before grabbing David's hands: "Let's go dance!" Melinda watches them carefully as David gets free of Cunanan's grasp and says he doesn't need the whole weekend to think about it. "I can't hear you, the music's too loud!" Cunanan says through a desperately fake chuckle. David tries to repeat himself, but Cunanan's sticking with the can't-hear-you bit, bobbing frantically and shouting, "Let's just dance!" They can't get married, David says. "Even if we could -- we can't." The smile drains off Cunanan's face as David says he's really sorry, he doesn't know what else to say. He leaves Cunanan standing on the dance floor, other couples whirling around him. Oof.

At the loft the next morning, Cunanan is sitting, staring into space, still wearing the same clothes from the previous night. David comes out in a tee and boxers and asks if he couldn't sleep. "No." David half-rolls his eyes and goes into the bedroom to fish the watch out of his top drawer; the camera pans up to find Cunanan in the doorway, having Nosferatu'd his way into frame once again. David startles, then murmurs that "there's something great" about Cunanan; he's always thought that. He's generous. But it's not right to keep the watch, he says, handing the box to Cunanan. "I know money is tight." Cunanan badly lies that it isn't. David says it's okay to ask for help instead of telling "all these crazy stories," but Cunanan isn't going to admit to anything, asking through another super-fake chuckle, "What crazy stories?" David girds his loins and runs down the list: he's not making movie sets, he doesn't have a condo in San Fran…he's unhappy. He should let David help him the way Cunanan has helped other people. Cunanan looks genuinely baffled and fearful at this idea as David clarifies that he doesn't mean by marrying Cunanan -- that's not possible, it's not real. It's not what, Cunanan prompts, giving him the Manson lamps. "Another crazy story," David says reluctantly, and holds the box out for Cunanan to take.

Cut to both men heading for the elevator. As the door is closing on Cunanan, David stops it with his arm and guiltily says he can cancel on his "friend" for that night, if Cunanan needs to talk, "about anything." Cunanan tries for cheery, but ends up sounding robotic as he says again that he's starting a new life in San Francisco. "I need someone to share it with." David pulls a "yeah, still a hard pass" face and says he'll see Cunanan Sunday. Now it's Cunanan's turn to stop the door with his arm, and his face has darkened to one of Dawsonian accusation: "Is it Jeff? That friend you're seeing?" David waits a beat too long before denying it. Andrew releases the door silently. David turns away from the elevator all "Fuuuuuu."

It isn't Jeff, but whoever it is, he's cozy with David That Way when they return to David's building -- as Cunanan can see from his creeper stakeout spot across the street. When the other two head inside, he marches robotically across the street for a closer view.

From there, he heads to Jeff's apartment. It takes him a second to get the lights working, but alas, almost no time after that to come across the photo of Jeff and David, Prints nestled between them, tucked into the frame of another photo on Jeff's bureau.

The picture looks merely friendly, to my eye, but Cunanan is already paranoid about the possibility of a…"Tradson," I guess, and starts rifling through Jeff's drawers. It's not totally clear what he's looking for -- proof of a relationship; blackmail fodder a la what he unearthed at David's in the previous episode -- but when he pulls out Jeff's Navy uniform box from the closet, it seems like it's maybe both. Disrespectfully donning Jeff's hat, he digs under the dress whites and finds an unmarked VHS cassette. It's a news broadcast, interviewing active-duty servicemen about gays in the military, and the interviewee onscreen drops a few f-bombs as Cunanan keeps going through Jeff's stuff, eventually finding the gun. He's quite expertly loading a clip into the gun when he hears Jeff's voice coming from the TV; it's Jeff, in an identity-masking shadow, telling an interviewer that any gays in the military must serve in the closet. Cunanan kneels in front of the set and strokes Jeff's darkened face as Jeff says his career is probably over anyway, because he saved a gay fellow sailor from getting beaten to death by his peers, which tipped off said peers that Jeff too is gay. Cunanan sights the gun at the TV. Jeff, near tears, confesses that he's dreamt of taking that "good thing" he did back, letting the other guy die, so that the others wouldn't "suspect" him. (This interview did take place, around the time Jeff met Cunanan; the segment of it I found doesn't contain any mention of this incident.)

After the break, we're in 1995 in San Diego, aboard the Gridley. Jeff heads below decks, and comes upon a fight, or rather one seaman punching another repeatedly in the face. Jeff pulls the puncher off, and the puncher says that "that f***** brushed against" him. Jeff helps the punchee, Williams, to his feet, and as the puncher is threatening Williams if he ever touches the puncher again, Williams knocks him down with a right cross and sneers, "I'm sorry -- did I touch you?" Jeff scatters the combatants and their audience.

That night, a hand puts a bar of soap in a sock (we don't see the item, but per my father, this is how barracks justice was handed down as of the sixties, so let's assume), and Jeff awakens to hear the sounds of a blanket partyalready in progress. It's Williams, no surprise, and the gag they've put on him is no match for his wails of agony. Jeff rushes over to break this up too, telling the participants to scatter or they'll get written up, and helps Williams into the shower to clean up -- and to convince him to go to a doctor, which Williams doesn't want, because he'll have to write a report and make a complaint. "You're hurt, you need a doctor," Jeff says patiently, but Williams hollers, "I need out! …Get me out. Get me reassigned. Please!" He's near tears, and panting from the pain. Jeff cups his cheek. Williams meets his eye, then grabs his arm and pulls Jeff down onto the shower bench with him and cries on Jeff's shoulder. Jeff nurturingly busses Williams's head, and the generous comfort Jeff offers Williams is painful to watch, because you know no good deed goes unpunished, on earth as it is in American Crime Story, so of course Jeff glances up to see a NASCAR-looking dude giving them a disgusted glare from the doorway, then flip-flopping away.

The next day, Jeff goes through the lunch line and into the mess, and the shot follows him as he looks for a spot to sit, then locks eyes with NASCAR mustache guy from the night before. (The actor's name is Ric Maddox, and I'd like to note that he has also played the Joker in a short film called Gay Batman. The sort of dialogue he has here can't be an enjoyable day at the office, and Maddox is good, doesn't sell it out with ham like he might want to.) Finn Wittrock gives us a flicker of "let's get this over with" as he walks over and sits firmly down at the last empty seat at Mustache's table. Mustache can't wait to launch into a story about a guy getting caught at a "hook-up place for f**s," asking if Jeff knows it. Jeff's like, um, no, and Mustache goes on that the MPs went in undercover and busted the spot. Great use of your budget there, y'all. Jeff asks if the guy got discharged; Mustache says no, not if he agrees to name "every f** he's ever blown," but the guy doesn't know names -- so he's going to provide a list of tattoos. Cut to a super-tight close-up on Mustache's beady eyes as he asks with subtle relish, "Got any tattoos, Jeff?" Jeff glances around the table and chuckles all "FOH with that," but…

…the next scene is Jeff in the showers again, this time with an exacto knife, his issued Zippo, bandages, and a Costco bottle of rubbing alcohol. This is painful to watch, but I have to wonder what kind of clandestine blowjobs everyone else is giving that they'd see, much less take note of, a tattoo on the calf. I mean, don't the pants stay pretty far up in that instance? -- unless that's the point, that Jeff's paranoia is that far-reaching (and perhaps justified). Anyway, he takes the blade to the Martian and starts carving, but only gets about a third of the way around before he has to stop.

The next day, we're in a handheld shot of Jeff supervising other seamen, including the puncher from earlier, who glares at him. He's told the captain wants to see him, and as he's heading for the captain's quarters through a warren of hallways, it seems like everyone he passes -- and needs must nearly brush up against in these tight quarters -- along the way is eyeing him suspiciously. He takes a quick breath and reports in to the captain, and maybe this got fixed for the air version, but we probably shouldn't see what looks like a Studio City parking lot out the porthole.

Jeff is told to have a seat, and does, at which time he spots blood seeping through his pantleg from the tattoo wound -- also apparently added in post, as it doesn't move when Jeff's leg does, so I assume they fixed that too. He tries not to freak out, but then the captain hands him a booklet entitled Dignity & Respect: A Training Guide On Homosexual Conduct Policy.

This comic book -- yes, "comic book" -- also existed, which might seem hard to believe if you haven't served or don't have family members in the service but is all too credible if you have/do. Like, the parachutist at the top right…"irony-free up-fuckery," is what my vet uncle would call this. Jeff too-quickly asks if there's some reason the captain's giving it to him. It's being circulated to all officers; does Jeff not think it's important? Jeff's like, of…course, sure. Does Jeff have any questions? "No sir!" Jeff gulps. "You haven't looked at it." Jeff then grimly recites the section of the…Uniform Code? Not sure if that applies here, actually, but it's the regulation that prohibits engaging in or even admitting to "homosexual acts." The captain stares at Jeff, then asks if he knows all the regulations by heart. "Most, sir," Jeff says, which tracks. "Open the book," he's told, so he does, staring dully at a page that overexplains what "Don't Ask" means. The captain asks again if he has questions, and when Jeff answers again that he doesn't, the captain goes on about a code of conduct, without which they're "nothing." "Nothing," Jeff repeats. So they're understood? "Yes, sir."

Nighttime. Jeff's in the shower again, this time poring over the comic. He pauses when he thinks he hears footsteps, then resumes, this time at the Don't Tell portion of the book.

Daytime. He's dressing in his whites, buffing his cap, shining his white shoes. I didn't even write a note about the visual reference to Lt. Col. Markinson in A Few Good Men, because that character's about to shoot himself, but maybe I was onto something, because then we're back in the shower, Jeff standing in his whites on the bench and contemplating the belt he's looped over a ceiling pipe.

Wittrock looks about twelve years old in this shot and it is buh-rutal. Jeff puts his head through and leans on the belt, but he can't go through with this either, although it's a harrowing couple minutes, and the mood isn't lifted by his despair as he sags, crying, onto the shower bench.

He's only slightly happier about the prospect of visiting a gay bar called Flicks, but he does it, albeit with baseball hat pulled fairly far down and a body language suggesting deep conflict. Company B's "Fascination" blares in the bar as he hesitantly orders a beer and looks around at the men smiling, the men smoking, the go-go boy with the American-flag briefs smizing at him. Beside him is Cunanan, who spots him as a rookie immediately. "Was it that obvious?" "There were a few clues," Cunanan smirks, and introduces himself.

Later, they're yukking it up at a table with a few empties as Jeff reveals that he's never gone to any gay bar before. Cunanan's shaggy-dog joke about the bartender setting off fireworks that make the shape of Jeff's name to mark the occasion wigs Jeff out momentarily, but Jeff sincerely thanks him for making the night un-humiliating. Cunanan preens that it's his honor, and he feels like he's part of Jeff's history. He asks if Jeff is military, and murmurs that it must be hard. Jeff agrees that it is. Cunanan switches gears, saying rules require him to buy Jeff drinks for the rest of the night and insisting Jeff put his money away. Jeff smiles to himself. At the bar, Cunanan watches him fondly.

Another time, at the same bar, Cunanan asks how it happens that CBS wants to interview Jeff. They came to the base and canvassed the straight soldiers, Jeff says; his part is sharing "the other side." Cunanan sputters that Jeff is crazy, they'll kick him out, but Jeff says they'll keep him in shadow so he can't be identified. "How humiliating," Cunanan breathes. Jeff doesn't get it, so Cunanan notes that the bigots get to stand in the light, uniforms on, proudly; Jeff gets to stay in the shadows with his voice distorted, "like a criminal." "Yep," Jeff says grimly. Of course this is how Cunanan thinks of it, and that the Navy will witch-hunt Jeff, that nobody cares what he has to say and it's not worth it, but it's something Jeff needs to do. He can't explain it.

He pulls up to a motel in his Jeep and gathers himself, then approaches one of the rooms.

Gianni and Antonio do the same, at a different hotel.

Jeff listens at the hotel-room door.

Gianni breathes, "My heart," and puts Antonio's hand on his chest to feel the hammering. "Mine too," Antonio laughs. Gianni wonders how many interviews he's done. Antonio puts Gianni's hand over his heart and says he can't count. "None like this," Gianni says. They kiss. Gianni knocks.

Jeff shakes hands with his interviewer.

Gianni shakes hands with his interviewer. As he's posing for pictures, Antonio stares into the middle distance; he's snapped out of the reverie by Gianni coming over for help zhuzhing his shirt.

Jeff's reassured that viewers will only see his silhouette, and that the MPs can't make the interviewer reveal his sources.

Gianni's interviewer confirms that Gianni understands he's on the record.

Jeff explains that the military is his life; it's all he ever wanted to do. Asked if anyone serving is out, Jeff says the majority are closeted, "and will always be closeted."

Gianni interrupts his interview to introduce Antonio in so many words as his partner, and to ask if they can do the interview together. The interviewer smiles warmly, knowing what he's witnessing, and says absolutely.

Jeff, meanwhile, isn't so optimistic, saying that he thinks talking to CBS is probably the end of his career. But at the same time, his career probably died a long time ago, he says, choking up. They know. They've never promoted him, even though he's a good sailor. "How do they know?" Jeff tells the story of saving Williams's life. It's slightly different from what we heard before in the phrasing, but we're still seeing these two men, both struggling to do the right thing, and the hopeful version of the right thing. Both killed by a guy who couldn't see any way to get love except to never tell the truth and to trade in shame instead of pride.

The day of Jeff's death. He comes home to find his apartment in bad-guest disarray and Cunanan performatively eating Froot Loops, four of which he probably left in the box, because: dickhead. Jeff sees his uniform hat on the table, stares at Cunanan, and heads into the bedroom without a word as Cunanan scrambles to his feet. Jeff finds his uniform on the bed and stalks back into the living room: "You went through my stuff?" Cunanan non-answers that he was going to tidy up, but Jeff interrupts that he touched Jeff's uniform. Cunanan was going to put it back: "So what?" "'So what'?" Jeff snarls. Cunanan's eyes narrow as he says he doesn't get why Jeff keeps it. Cunanan didn't serve his country; he'll never get it. No, Cunanan doesn't, not after how the Navy treated him. "You've never believed in anything except yourself," Jeff says, but Cunanan protests that he believed in Jeff, "didn't I," when the Navy didn't? "Everything you gave me, the bars, the meals, the men, it means nothing -- I want my life back!" Jeff says. He means his real life, as a soldier. Cunanan croons in an oh-honey tone that they never wanted him -- Cunanan wanted him! Jeff's like, pass, and says he doesn't know who Cunanan is; he doesn't stand for anything. He isn't anything, he's just a liar. "You have no honor," Jeff finishes, heading back into the bedroom.

Now Cunanan's pissed, and tries to take control of the situation/Jeff, sneering that Jeff's not in the Navy anymore, "sweetie" -- he's a washed-up [slur] with a shitty job, in a shitty condo, "bitching about how you could have been someone." This is Cunanan, really, not Jeff, but Jeff says he's right about that. Cunanan attempts to pull rank by announcing grandly that, when Jeff walked into "that bar," he saved Jeff. Jeff: "You destroyed me!" He wishes he'd never gone into that bar; he wishes he'd never met Cunanan. Cunanan switches gears, saying Jeff's confused and can't see it, but Jeff can see it: "I see it, I feel it, I hate it." I think he means that what he sees and feels keep him from what he truly loves, serving in the Navy, but I'd hear arguments. In any case, Cunanan is still trying to work the tractor beam, putting his hands up to Jeff's face and starting to say he loved Jeff so much, but Jeff swats Cunanan's hands away, knocking him back a step: "No one! Wants! Your love!"

Cunanan Starmans out of the room, gathering his bag (with Jeff's gun on top) and leaving without a word.

David is opening the door to let his "friend" out and finds Cunanan just standing there. Cunanan brushes in, in between David and the friend, without being invited in. "Andrew!" Cunanan parks it on the coffee table: "Yes?" David didn't hear the buzzer. Cunanan didn't want to bother (read: alert) David, so he "just slipped in behind someone else." The friend's like, yikes, and David has to whisper that he'll call. He fastens his bathrobe tightly, and is about to get into it when Cunanan fake-haltingly mentions what David said "about needing help." Can they talk tonight? "Sure," David this-fucking-guys, and goes into the bedroom. Cunanan schemes.

Jeff irons his uniform and folds it neatly away.

While David showers, Cunanan calls Jeff to neener that he has Jeff's gun; he borrowed it to protect David from a stalker who's back in town. As Jeff is bitching at him about having a license and how the gun never leaves the apartment, Cunanan smiles smugly at the trap he's going to spring. Jeff says he'll come over and retrieve it, but he's done with Cunanan -- done. Cunanan tries to grade-school that Jeff said that already, but Jeff hangs up on him. Cunanan wanders into the area of David's loft that's under construction and eyes the hammer.

Jeff's downstairs now, banging on the broken buzzer. Cunanan asks if David's going to get the door, but this time, David asks if he's joking, and Cunanan grumps that Jeff is "very hostile at the moment" and he'd rather not get into it with him in the foyer. As David's letting Jeff in, Cunanan is selecting the hammer and taking up his lurking post. We see him hear Jeff say he never wants to see Cunanan again, and again here the dialogue is somewhat shuffled from what we saw last week, but it may air differently -- or be a "what Cunanan 'hears' and what's actually happening aren't the same" thing. It doesn't change the ending, unfortunately, and we cut from the door swinging shut and Cunanan rushing Jeff…

…to Jeff's sister getting wheeled into labor, hollering in pain. Slow pan across Jeff's empty apartment as his parents leave various messages about the labor and delivery; fade out on Jeff's hat, neatly atop the uniform box, as Jeff's parents inform him that he has a niece, and everyone's healthy.

#acs versace #previously tv #epic old school recaps #2.05 #recap #review #article #february 2018

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