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quixoticall · 6 months

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This Could Get Ugly 6. Views from the Outside

Summary: It's 1983 and The Downsides need another lead singer and you just happen to need a band--it's a perfect match. The only issue? You have to pretend to be in a relationship with your bandmate, Steve Harrington, but you can't help but be drawn to the band's broody guitar player.

pairing: s.h. x fem!reader, e.m. x fem!reader, j.b. x n.w.,

warnings: Mention of French people, angst, fake relationships,

A/N: Hello! Once again, thank you to everyone who interacted with this in any way! I love to hear feedback and see that you're enjoying the work! Another thing: My goal with this story is that it's told over the span of 4 individual works, with "This Could Get Ugly" being the first one. What this means is that there's going to be a LOT of juicy drama to enjoy but I will be taking my time getting to it. It's been super important to me that I tell the story right and at my own pace so while it may seem like the romance is tilting to one guy over another--just know, that that's all part of the plan! My pet peeve when reading love triangle type of stuff is when you can immediately tell which love interest is the end game so my goal for this is to be as even as possible, offering romance for both Steve and Eddie (In my mind, this is less of a love triangle and more of a love different people at different points in time type of thing). Anyway, what a long note! Please enjoy the chapter!

wc: 4.6k

MASTERLIST🎸

Previous Chapter 🎹

Subrosa Article

***

JONATHAN: I never wanted to be famous, I just wanted to play music and make enough money to support my family. I could do all of that and more with The Downsides.

I felt like the luckiest guy in the world then. We were finally starting to see some stability as a band and even though things weren’t exactly as we expected, things were good. I mean we were making music we loved with people we liked—back when we all still liked each other.

***

October 1983—Los Angeles, California

As the studio had predicted, the band’s single was a total hit, as were you and Steve in the press. The gamble Starcourt was starting to pay off.

Everyone was more relieved than happy about that news.

What followed was a few grueling weeks of rerecording the band’s nearly completed album while also strategically traipsing arm-in-arm with Steve around every romantic spot in Hollywood trying to bait the paparazzi.

Things had finally slowed down a bit since the album was in post-production, but Starcourt still had you on a tight schedule. You had transitioned into rehearsing for the band’s upcoming tour. That’s how certain Startcourt was that the Downsides were going to be a success—you were rehearsing for a tour that hadn’t even been announced yet for an album that hadn’t even been released.

You try not to think about what it would mean if the band didn’t meet the label’s expectations. Instead, you focus on figuring out how to adapt to the band you’re now a part of.

The obvious lack of familiarity between all of you was not as pronounced when you were re-recording in the studio, now that you’re all rehearsing together, it is impossible to ignore. The original members of the band share a bond that keeps them incredibly in sync, oftentimes leaving you and Eddie struggling both on and off the stage. You’ve been working to adapt though, and you’ve made progress, sometimes you’re even close to feeling like the band has accepted you as one of their own. But then something will happen that will leave you feeling like an outsider once more.

***

The last thing a hungover you needs to see at seven in the morning is a Subrosa article questioning your moral character and calling you a man-eater. The universe—in the form of one Nancy Wheeler—has a different idea.

“Have you seen this?” the keyboardist asks, indignation coloring her tone, as she slings the offending publication across your lap.

You hadn’t seen it, in fact, but one look at the grainy picture of you and Steve and you can assume what the article says.

You sigh tiredly in response, “Honestly Nancy, you shouldn’t pay attention to this shit. I don’t know why you let it bother you so much.”

“It’s just so unfair that they’re singing Steve’s praises and are still dragging you through the mud, even though you’ve done nothing wrong.”

“Exactly, there’s no winning with them, not for me. So why don’t we just say fuck them and do whatever we want?” You find it in yourself to waggle your eyebrows playfully at her earning a giggle from the otherwise serious girl.

You catch Eddie watching your exchange from across the large warehouse that is serving as the band’s rehearsal space with a curious amount of interest.

The two of you have barely spoken since your row outside of Starcourt. It’s not like you’re missing out on much though, since Eddie barely interacts with the band beyond rehearsal which makes his apparent engagement with your conversation unusual. Eddie, realizing he’s been caught staring, opens his mouth to say something but is quickly interrupted by a very late Steve and Robin.

“Hey, have you seen the latest issue of Subrosa?” Steve asks, harried and out of breath.

You try not to think about the fact that this is the third time this week that the two of them have shown up together and late.

“Yes, we were just talking about it, which you would’ve known if the two of you were on time for once,” Nancy jabs back with no real heat, just the annoyance of an older sister chastising her siblings.

“Hey, don’t blame me, Robin wanted to—” he stops short as soon as his eyes land on you and coughs awkwardly.

“I wanted to stop by the post office,” Robin rushes to say. “It’s Bastille Day and I needed to send a card to my French pen pal, Celine in honor of the occasion.”

“Isn’t Bastille Day in July?” You ask Robin.

She flushes scarlet. “Right, exactly, that’s why this is so important, my card was already like three months late. You know how French people are about punctuality.”

She then exchanges a meaningful glance with Steve and Nancy who seem to be having their own sort of conversation consisting solely of glances and eyebrow movement.

“Fine, whatever,” Nancy exhales after a few terse moments of silent communication, “let’s just start please.”

She stands and the others follow suit. You, however, remain sat, trying to figure out what exactly had just happened.

Steve, sensing you hadn’t moved, turns to throw you an apologetic look over his shoulder before beaconing gently with a nod of his head. You sigh but join him, nonetheless.

This happens a lot.

***

JONATHAN: When the whole staged relationship thing first started, I don’t think any of us had any idea what that meant. I mean, sure, it started out as the gimmick that got us through the door but it soon became something bigger than that. Their relationship was synonymous with the band and it's success and I'm sure that resulted in a lot of pressure.

I think for the two of them, though, the most difficult part was trying to keep things professional, especially when other people began to get involved.

***

None of the personal dynamics mattered when you were all playing together.

What you loved most about your bandmates was that they cared about the music just as much as you did. That had become clear from the very first rehearsal and even now, nearly a month in, you’re still in awe watching them all perform alongside you.

Prim, soft-spoken Nancy turned into a wild thing on the keyboard, her whole body moving with the music, fingers flying over the keys like it was nothing. Ever the perfectionist, she would never miss a note, and on the off chance that she did, curse words you had never heard before streamed out of her mouth, causing your eyes to go wide every time.

Jonathan, too, became something else: full of bravado and fire, hair swinging wildly and even jumping around on stage. His playing had a smoothness to it, he knew when to show restraint and let someone else shine and when to bring it himself.

Argyle and Robin were the biggest transformations, though. Gone was goofy and easy-going Argyle the person and all that was left behind was the laser-focused drummer, who seemed to move on instinct to create a strong musical foundation for the rest of you. Robin, who normally was a bit erratic and all over the place, became the self-assured, quick-thinking driving force behind the band. It was like she knew exactly how the song needed to sound and what each person needed to bring to get there. She was the first to let anyone know there was something amiss and no one took it the wrong way because she was rarely wrong.

Steve and Eddie were exactly what you had expected, however, what you did not expect was how alike they would be. They both moved gracefully and with careless precision. Showmen in equal measures.

Once you had familiarized yourself with your bandmates, figuring out how you fit into the band’s onstage dynamic was easy.

Off-stage was a whole different story.

***

JONATHAN: I mean, yeah, I think it was natural that there was a bit of a divide in those early days between the ‘original’ band and our two new members. It’s not for lack of trying though, it’s just, well the five of us lived in a house together and had known each other for years, it was probably kinda intimidating trying to jump into that dynamic. I also got the feeling that the other two weren’t really used to having friends. They both seemed to have their guards up in their own way.

With her you could tell she was holding back, almost like she was afraid of doing the wrong thing and well, with Eddie… you know how he is.

I think it was that feeling of sort of being on the outside that first drew them together, honestly.

***

Your eyes scan over the small craft services area that makes up part of your rehearsal space. Most of the band starts at one table, chatting amiably over lunch. Before you can even take a step in their direction, though, your eyes zero in on Steve and Robin, whose heads are bent, close together, whispering to one another intimately and you falter.

As much as you enjoyed Robin and Steve individually, watching them interact with one another often stoked an aching loneliness in you that you struggled to put out and the more time you spent with them only made it worse. After six weeks, you were worn thin.

Deciding that you’d rather not foster any unearned feelings, you turn to the only other table where Eddie is sitting alone bent over a thick paperback.

Trying to play it as cool as you can, you reach inside your bag to pull out your own book, and casually sit down across from the long-haired boy.

He stares you down. You raise an eyebrow in response.

“Didn’t know you could read,” he says casually.

“Funny, I was just about to say the same thing about you,” you shoot back with no real bite.

He chuckles to himself, seemingly impressed before gesturing to your book.

“Didn’t peg you for a Baldwin type either,” Eddie says, eyes scanning the cover of your book.

You shrug, noncommittally, “I found a copy Beal Street sitting with a bunch of junk on my neighbor’s curb and I’ve been a fan since.”

He barks out a laugh so loud it catches everyone’s attention.

Conversation halts and you feel your bandmates’ curious gazes fall on you all at once.

“Forgive me, princess, but I have a hard time imagining you digging through other people's trash for books from what I know of you.”

“And what do you know about me, Eddie? I mean, other than the stuff Subrosa prints.”

His face falls in response.

The two of you spend the rest of your lunch in silence, pretending not to notice the way everyone else is staring.

***

JONATHAN: They ate lunch together every day after that, barely talking, reading their books. I don’t think they were friends or anything, but I did see them exchange books a few times.

It did stress Nancy out, I think, the divide. It made her think we weren’t doing enough to be “welcoming” to them. Argyle and I didn’t really care, and Robin was dealing with her on shit at the time.

***

ROBIN : Yeah, I was seeing this girl, and I was trying to keep it under wraps from well… everyone actually. Steve was a really great friend though; he would always give me rides to and from her place when I needed them.

***

JONATHAN: ...a nd Steve liked to pretend that he didn’t care but he definitely did.

ROBIN: Of course, Steve cared, are you kidding?

NANCY: We could tell it bothered him.

STEVE : Did I care that she was eating lunch with Munson and kept avoiding me outside of rehearsal? No! Of course not.

***

November 1983, Los Angeles, California

The Downsides’ debut album was released on November 6, 1983, to commercial and critical success.

People immediately took to the upbeat synth sound paired with the introspective and clever lyrics. On top of that, you and Steve were, quite literally the talk of the town.

There were entire articles in gossip magazines dedicated to parsing out details of your relationship from the song lyrics on the album and coming up with theories about what the lyrics were about.

And all of that just from a few pictures of you two holding hands. Starcourt was ecstatic, they had bottled magic.

As much as everyone wanted to celebrate, you weren’t out of the woods yet, there were still the press junkets.

A growing list of TV and radio appearances that the band was required to be at plagued Hopper who was tasked with making sure you were all present and willing at these appearances. And of course, that you didn’t make fools of yourselves or Starcourt.

The label had taken it upon itself to send everyone PR briefings—essentially a long list of things no one should say under any circumstances during interviews.

Normally, you would think a list like this was overkill but knowing some of your bandmates, it was definitely needed.

All the eyes (and the pressure) would be on you and Steve, though, everyone knew that. You two were the ‘It Couple’ everyone wanted to hear from, and you weren’t quite sure what you were going to say.

The pap photos were easy: it was just walking around or sometimes getting lunch, holding hands, and looking like you were enjoying each other’s company. Something that wasn’t difficult since conversation flowed easily between the two of you. At first, you would talk music—Steve was incredibly dedicated and knowledgeable, you quickly found out—but eventually, the two of you had branched into other topics. You learned about Steve’s life growing up in Indiana, about all his likes and dislikes, and everything about the band. He managed to pull the same information from you and you let him.

Even the physical stuff was easy, with time. In the beginning, it was an experiment of firsts. While you were pretty well-versed in the practice of feigned affection, you were used to the guy always making the first (fake) move. Most of the guys you had been "set up" with were the "act first, ask permission later" type. Steve was polite and considerate to a fault, and it took you two full dates to convince him that he didn't have to ask before holding your hand and an entire week more to work up to the kiss on the cheek. After those conversations though, touching Steve, in one way or another, had become second nature.

So much so, in fact, that it had begun to bleed into your everyday lives. It was not unusual during the time of your re-recording, to be at the studio and have Steve come up from behind you to rest his hand in the gentle dip of your waist only for you to lean back as you inhaled that scent that was uniquely him: smokey sandalwood and hair pomade.

Right around the time rehearsal started you realized that perhaps the two of you were becoming too comfortable with that type of affection, especially given how much time he spent with Robin, and you had begun to keep a subtle distance between the two of you whenever you weren’t on stage.

Steve while intelligent in his own right, had never struck you as the kind of person to pick up on subtleties, so when he brings up this distance you realize that either you severely underestimated his abilities, or you were not as subtle as you thought you’d been.

It’s a few days before the first stop of the Press Tour—An early morning slot with Wake Up, USA! —that has the two of you sitting on your couch when he brings it up. You had invited Steve over to practice answering any possible questions you may have to field together and make sure you’re on the same page.

As it turns out though, outside of music, Steve is not much for rehearsing.

“Can’t we just wing it?” Steve asks as he lies sprawled on your couch.

You huff in response, “No, we can’t just wing it. This is a big deal! This is our first time out as a couple, and we have to be believable.”

Steve scoffs at this and you raise an annoyed eyebrow in response.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he shrugs in response, “it’s just hard to act like a couple when you’ve been avoiding me for, like, the past month.”

He doesn’t sound accusatory or angry when he says this, just matter-of-fact.

“I haven’t been avoiding you,” you sputter out, weakly.

It’s his turn to raise an incredulous eyebrow at you.

“Really? Could’ve fooled me. Last time I checked you and Eddie weren’t the best of friends, but you’d rather eat lunch with him than the rest of us. You know, if you didn’t like us, you didn’t have to agree to be in the band, we would’ve understood,” he deflates as he says this last sentence and it crumples your heart just a bit.

“I like you guys,” you say quietly, nudging his leg with your knee as you do.

“Then, is it me?” He asks, voice small and eyes low.

“No, no, it’s not you, Steve,” you rush to say.

“It’s just, I’ve never really been any good at this,” you mumble, shy under his gaze.

“Good at what?” He urges gently.

“At being friends with people.”

You continue, words clunky and difficult to get out, “At being friends with someone I’m also pretending to date.

“I mean, with the rest of the guys Starcourt set me up with, I only had to tolerate them for a few weeks, at most. With us, well who knows right? Plus, I actually like you,” you wince at this uncharacteristic display of vulnerability from yourself, “I like all of you and I don’t want to ruffle any feathers or cross any boundaries and hurt anyone’s feelings.”

He chuckles at this, “Trust me, you won’t hurt my feelings by spending time with me.”

You shake your head, “It’s not you I’m worried about, Steve. There are other people.”

Steve’s brow furrows in confusion, “I’m not following.”

You are not sure what to say, now. You don’t want to call Steve and Robin out, it’s clear that they’ve been trying to keep what they have going on a secret, and you don’t want to call attention to that. You’re also afraid that if you mention him and Robin, you’ll eventually have to explain how when you see them together, your chest gets painfully tight. Pivot, you demand of yourself.

“What I mean to say is, it’s easier for me to keep everything professional when I have a little more space because I’m not really used to this friend thing. I’m sorry if I made you feel like I didn’t like you or the band. I like you all a lot, actually and I guess I’m just worried about messing that up.”

You can feel yourself retract into yourself the more you speak and by the end, your knees are tucked under your chin. You can’t bring yourself to meet Steve’s gaze.

He doesn’t respond right away, but you feel the warmth of his palm spread over the expanse of your back.

“Listen, I think… if this is gonna work, we have to be on each other’s team and part of that is talking to one another, right? And letting each other know when we're having a hard time. I want to be on your team, will you let me?” His voice swells as he asks, and you are so aware of his warmth next to you.

“Yeah,” you nod, finally meeting his eyes, “ I want to be on your team too if you’ll let me?”

He nods enthusiastically, smiling so brightly you question if the sun has ever been as bright.

“Great, now can we please practice some of these questions?” You demand, playfully.

“Or, or, and hear me out, we could go get burgers," he offers back.

You end up doing both.

***

November 13, 1983, Sunset Studios, Los Angeles, California

Call time for Wake Up, USA! was insanely early and you don’t think you’ve ever seen an angrier Hopper than one that has to be dealing with Eddie Munson at 5 AM. Eddie is decidedly, not a morning person.

“Well, aren’t you a ray of sunshine today?” You deadpan to the disgruntled guitarist from your makeup chair next to his. You were not fairing much better: not only were you running on little sleep, but you were also wound tightly with nerves about your first live interview as a band and as a couple.

“Can it, Your Majesty, or we might have a case of regicide on our hands,” he warns with no real heat behind his words.

“Isn’t it a bit too early to be throwing big words like that around, Munson?” Steve asks, from his spot on your other side.

“Don’t even know what that means,” he mutters, mostly to you.

“It means the murder of a king or queen,” you respond automatically.

“Doesn’t have to be just one, either. You could always kill more than one monarch at a time,” Eddie raises his eyebrows at Steve as he says this, making his implications very obvious.

“Wow, look at us,” Steve exclaims, grinning, “already making veiled threats at each other. We’ve finally made it, honey.”

He says this last part exclusively to you punctuating it by reaching for your hand and giving it a squeeze and you laugh.

The lightness of the exchange distracts you from your nerves for a moment. And from the way Eddie’s eyes linger on your hand interlaced with Steve’s.

Your brief reprieve is interrupted by the soft thud of a heavy object landing in your lap.

“What’s this?” You hold up a beat-up paperback to the culprit.

Eddie shrugs, “The Two Towers, Dustin finally got it back to me, took his sweet time too, that little asshole.”

You nod. He had lent you the first Lord of the Rings book weeks ago, while you were still in rehearsal after you had shown up bookless one day and you had devoured the book. You had been needling him for the second one since, but he had lent it to the audio engineer’s son, a kid named Dustin who idolized him and Steve in equal measure.

“Thanks,” you say, surprise coloring your voice, thumbing through the pages, eyes hungrily scanning the pages.

***

EDDIE: I dunno, she seemed nervous. I thought if she had something to distract her, it might’ve helped.

***

You get through the first chapter of your new book before they pull you into wardrobe.

They outfit you in a light blue dress, with exaggerated sleeves and a belt around your middle to compliment Steve’s dark blue blazer and stripped t-shirt combo.

You feel your nerves mounting as you are helped into your heels and given your mic pack. Suddenly, everything that is riding on this is suffocating you from all ends—a visceral crushing pain that you can’t shake.

Steve appears at your side and the band had been escorted onto the soundstage your hand has been tightly wrapped around his like a vice the entire time.

“Can you, uh, loosen your grip a bit, please,” Steve asks, finally.

“Right, sorry,” you say, letting go of his hand completely and instead focusing your nervous energy on straightening his lapels.

After the third time you’ve readjusted his collar, Steve grabs both of your hands in his, and pulls you close, giving you no choice but to focus on his face.

“Hey,” he says in a hushed tone, just for you, “you don’t need to worry, okay? We’ve got this. I’m on your team, remember?”

You swallow thickly, and nod, before adding, “And I’m on yours, Harrington.”

“That’s my girl,” he says sealing the exchange with a kiss on the cheek.

***

JONATHAN: That first interview, on Wake Up, USA! was what really sold them. I mean, they couldn’t keep their eyes off of each other the entire time.

And then, when one of the hosts asked them how they met, Steve told this story about seeing her for the first time from across the restaurant during our first lunch together and how he was sure he had made a total fool of himself because he was so nervous to be around someone so beautiful, of course, Steve Harrington would say something like that. The audience swooned. Hell, I swooned a little bit.

And then they asked her about all the guys from her past, which was totally fucked up by the way, but she handled it great. She said she was grateful for all the mistakes she had made in the past because they had led her to The Downsides and to Steve.

Between that interview and our live performance, the audience was hooked.

***

“Good job, you two,” Hopper says gruffly, patting you and Steve on the shoulder as you're ushered off stage after your performance.

“Thanks,” you squeak out, all the tension slowly deflating from your body after hearing Hopper’s approval.

It was done, your first live appearance complete, and it hadn’t been a total train wreck.

Actually, thinking back, it had been pretty good. There was a good variety of questions; everyone had gotten to speak; and when it came to you and Steve, well, it seemed believable at least. And the band managed to preform the new single without a hitch, all of the kinks that had plagued you during the last few weeks of rehearsals ironed out.

Maybe you could pull this off after all.

***

By the time the band had wrapped up the week-long press junket, you were exhausted.

What had taken more of a toll than the hours of sitting in makeup chairs, too-tight shoes and repetitive questions was having to pretend with Steve.

You realize now that your problem was never the risk of not being convincing enough, but instead of being too convincing.

You had spent the entire week so physically attached to Steve, that it was beginning to feel like you were one single being. Like he was an appendage you couldn’t move without.

And every kiss on the cheek, every look, every squeeze of your hand, felt like a jumpstart to your heart.

Then there were actual interview parts. Steve was good with the press. He would draw audiences and hosts alike, in as easy as if he was winding up a thread. There was never a question that would catch him off guard and he always came off boyish and genuine in his responses. Like the time he was asked what his favorite thing about you was and he told the story of you showing up at the recording studio with cookies and having the guts to change Eddie’s lyrics in the same afternoon.

You knew better than to ask if he meant it.

The next day, Hopper called to let you know that your album was breaking all sorts of records, and the label was incredibly pleased. So much so that they were thinking of increasing the tour dates and they were even starting to plan for future projects—projects that they wanted you to write.

The news didn’t make you feel light with joy like you had once hoped it would, instead, it made you feel heavy like a sinking stone.

A few weeks later, when the band went their separate ways for the Christmas break, you all knew something big was coming, you just had no way of knowing what.

***

JONATHAN: Right after New Year, Hopper pulls the band into a meeting in his office. First thing he told us was that they were announcing a tour with twice as many dates as they had originally planned for, demand was that high. Then he said, “From this point on, everything is going to move really quickly, there’s no getting off the ride now.”

NEXT CHAPTER 🥁

Taglist: @rexorangecouny , @persophonekarter

#steve harrington x reader #eddie munson x reader #nancy wheeler #robin buckley #steve harrington #stranger things x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things x you #stranger things imagine #jonathan byers

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satansapostle6 · 2 months

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Kids | Rodrick Heffley

Spotify Playlist Link

Rodrick Heffley becomes obsessed when he finally meets his thirty-five year old band mate, Bill Walter’s, younger sister.

Warnings: Mature themes/language. Sexual content.

“French Inhale”

“Kids”

“Rodrick!”

“…Hi, Mom.”

Rodrick Heffey looked around awkwardly as he stepped through the threshold into his home with Sara.

“You’re home! And you brought Sara! How was school?” Susan Heffley asked enthusiastically.

“Uh… It was okay,” he responded, embarrassed by his mother’s presence.

He had thought she’d be at the store or something when he got home, giving him enough time to settle into his room with Sara before she arrived.

“How about you, Sara?” Susan asked with an almost too friendly smile. “How was your day?”

“It was alright, thanks, Mrs. Heffley,” Sara smiled courteously.

Things were fine ever since everything that had happened between the two of them, but still, there was a distance between Sara Walter and Susan Heffley that seemed to bother Susan more so than it did her son’s girlfriend.

“Oh, I’ve told you a hundred times! Call me ‘Susan’!” she said with the widest smile Sara had ever seen, creeping out of ‘smile’ territory and more into ‘grimace’ territory.

“Okay… Susan,” Sara said uncomfortably, trying her best to continue the flow of the conversation as naturally as she could.

But Susan was giving her almost nothing.

“Anyways… We’re just gonna go upstairs,” Rodrick announced hastily, “I already finished all my homework…”

Sara gave one final shy smile as she promptly followed her boyfriend upstairs, only for Susan to look up at them in a panic as she still held a full laundry basket in her hands.

“Okay! Remember to leave the door open, Rodrick!” she called hopefully, as Rodrick only half-closed the door, leaving just enough room while still ensuring at least a small amount of privacy.

Rodrick sighed as he threw his backpack at the wall, flopping onto his bed as Sara just watched.

“What’s wrong?” she wondered, sitting at the foot of the bed.

“Nothing. My mom just tries too hard,” he groaned.

Sara paused for a moment, understanding where he was coming from as she thoughtfully ran a hand through her shoulder length, balayaged hair.

“It’s sweet,” she offered.

“Yeah, I know,” Rodrick sighed, feeling somewhat guilty. “But it’s weird.”

“I don’t really mind,” she shrugged. “I appreciate it. In its own weird way.”

“It’s so embarrassing, though,” he complained.

“Hey,” Sara reminded him firmly, “Your mom’s trying… Why do you think we’re always at your place instead of mine?”

“Because your mom goes for losers?” Rodrick guessed.

“Wow,” Sara scoffed.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, baby,” he apologized quickly.

“I didn’t say you were wrong,” she reminded him as she lay next to him on her side, head propped up on her arm as she looked at him expectantly.

Rodrick just melted at the sight of her, sighing as he gave in and pressed a soft kiss to her lips. It seemed Sara had a plan, her subtly affectionate kisses slowly becoming more drawn out and purposeful. Rodrick was beginning to enjoy himself even more as her rested a hand on her hip, before a loud interruption.

“Rodrick?!”

He grunted irritably as he pulled away from her with reluctance, closing his eyes for a minute before he responded.

“Yeah?!” he yelled.

There was a quick pause.

“I’m going to the fundraising event for Greg’s school! I’m taking Manny, but Greg doesn’t wanna go, and Rowley’s here, so you’re in charge!” Susan shouted. “Make sure they behave! I’m already running late!”

“Okay!” Rodrick agreed, waiting for a response before he turned back to Sara.

He grinned, seeming rather pleased with himself despite not having done anything.

“Looks like we get the house to ourselves,” he remarked, as Sara chuckled softly.

She slowly sat up, swinging a leg over Rodrick’s lap as he watched her with sleepy eyes, a goofy grin on his face as she leaned in to kiss him. He pulled her closer, hands softly brushing over her form as she threw her arms around him. Rodrick felt even more smug as her tongue entered his mouth. He brushed his tongue against hers, flicking it playfully before another loud sound caught his attention.

“Hey Rodrick, I wanted to ask you— AAAAHHHH!”

“AAAAAAHHHHHH!”

Two loud yells filled the room as Rodrick looked to the doorway to find his younger brother looking petrified at what he’d accidentally walked in on. Completely panicking, Rodrick screamed loudly as he did whatever he could to make the situation appear more normal, the very first thing he instinctively thought to do unfortunately being shoving whatever was on his lap off of the bed.

Unfortunately, it had been Sara that was on his lap, landing on the floor of his room with a loud thud.

“Get the fuck out, you little pervs!” Rodrick boomed.

“I’m sorry!” Rowley Jefferson whimpered apologetically, sounding traumatized.

“I’m sorry! It was an accident!” his younger brother Greg exclaimed, as he and his best friend Rowley both stood with their hands covering their eyes as if someone was naked.

“What the fuck are you guys even doing in here?!” Rodrick demanded as Sara frustratedly picked herself up off the floor, sitting back down on the bed as she panted slowly.

“I-I just… Wanted to ask you a question!” Greg Heffley told his brother.

“No! Get the fuck out!” Rodrick yelled at him.

“Please, can I just ask you something?” Greg pleaded.

“Please?” Rowley begged, eyes still tightly covered.

“What is it, Greg?” Sara asked, in spite of Rodrick’s protests.

“No!” Rodrick said bitterly.

“Rodrick, please?” Greg looked at him with his childish puppy dog eyes. “Just hear me out, please—”

“Alright, fine! If it’ll get you to leave!” Rodrick caved. “What is it?”

Rowley slowly lowered his hands as he looked around the room, paranoid.

“Mom said we can’t leave the house unless it’s with you,” Greg told his older brother. “And we really wanna go to this party at Dani’s house—”

“Dani?” Rodrick scoffed. “What makes you think a girl like that would wanna hang out with you two fucktards?”

“She said we could come!” Greg exclaimed. “Come on, Rodrick. Please?!”

“No! Fuck off!” Rodrick complained.

“Wait,” Sara said, looking between her boyfriend and the two kids. “You wouldn’t happen to mean Dani Gomez, would you?”

Greg looked at her funny. “Yeah. You know her?”

“That’s Christy Gomez’s little sister,” Sara deduced, turning to Rodrick.

He didn’t get it right away. “Who?”

Sara leaned in, whispering so that only he could hear. “The girl who sells molly.”

Rodrick’s eyes slowly widened as he turned to look back at the two middle school boys, quickly coming to a conclusion.

“Alright. Grab your shit. We’re going,” he determined.

“Yes!”

Greg and Rowley were both ecstatic as they ran off to Greg’s room. Rodrick thought for a moment as he addressed Sara.

“Babe, do you have any cash?” he murmured. “Cuz, I got none.”

“Lemme check,” Sara murmured, reaching for her bag.

She pulled a decent wad of bills out of her wallet. Rodrick watched her quickly counting the money as it passed through each of her hands, sounding like one of those machines he’d seen in the movies. He found it weirdly attractive how fast she could count money.

“20, 40, 60, 80… Yeah. We’re gonna party,” she assured him with a grin.

*****

When Sara and Rodrick arrived at Christy’s house that random Wednesday, they quickly found out that this was one of those rare occasions on which she did not have any molly to sell. So, Sara and Rodrick decided to stay and make do with the various ‘refreshments’ they had been provided with.

They were sitting in the backyard with the fifteen or so other kids around their age or so as everyone either talked, smoked, or drank, or most likely some combination thereof. There were enough people that either of them knew for them to stay without feeling awkward, but there was no one they knew particularly well. So, Sara had texted Lauren, while Rodrick had texted the guys from the band.

Chris, Ben, and Bill would all be arriving together within the hour, meanwhile Lauren would be coming once she got off of work. So, as they sat on a table talking with Christy and a couple of others while they waited, Rodrick and Sara sipped on cold Banquets, trying to hide their boredom as they listened to the two guys Christy and her friend Jenna were standing with.

Christy Gomez was a couple of years ahead of Rodrick and Sara, having graduated Crossland the year before. She was best known for her Jersey Shore-esque fashion sense, oddly elitist personality, and of course, chronic possession of molly, and chronic. Sara couldn’t stand her, but pretending she did came with a lot of perks.

Although she sold a lot of different things, from drugs to designer shades, Christy was one of those girls who stood in the back judging the girls actually dancing at raves. She was popular, but not well-liked. She was one of the few girls with an alternative fashion sense who still befriended the boys who seemed like they committed hate crimes on the weekends.

The two boys standing with them at the moment were Matt Lewis and Jack Garrett, a jock and an irritating skateboard owner. Sara specifically described Jack as a skateboard owner due to the fact that, despite him carrying one wherever he went, nobody had ever seen him actually skateboard.

Lauren wasn’t exactly pleased to find Sara and the guys standing around talking with her ex from sophomore year when she arrived.

“Dude, I don’t even know why I fucked her!” he laughed obnoxiously as he told a story.

Sara looked at Rodrick, unimpressed, as he just responded by silently taking a sip of his beer as he continued listening. Lauren was currently on her third eye roll of the night. Between having to walk there and not having any molly, Rodrick was in a somewhat irritable mood, especially having to deal with Matt Lewis, the football star who had made fun of him freshman year.

“Did you at least hit it doggy style?” Matt asked him. “Cuz you know she’s got a dog face!”

The two guys cackled as Christy and Jenna did everything in their power to validate them, seeming as if they were trying to one-up their laughs. Things only got more ‘interesting’ once Chris, Ben, and Bill showed up three beers later, adding fuel to the fire of the conversation as Sara sat with her leg draped over Rodrick’s, quietly sipping her drink as the guys talked.

“Fuck, I hate girls who are into politics,” Matt announced, “They just always talk too much!”

Sara and Chris immediately looked at one another as Jack and Ben hopped on that bandwagon. It took a while for the sexist laughter to die down, but the second it did, Rodrick looked to his girlfriend to try and gauge what was going to happen next. He grinned slightly, already buzzed as he realized things were about to get interesting.

Chris and Bill, on the other hand, we’re becoming increasingly worried.

“As opposed to what?” Sara said quietly.

Everyone turned to look at her as the conversation came to a natural lull. Christy and Jenna were quiet, judging in silence, but the boys were too far gone to hold in their reactions in any way. Lauren, on the other hand, was already giggling readily.

“Huh?” Matt said stupidly.

“Sara,” Bill said quietly, not disagreeing, but pleading.

“As opposed to two guys who seem to hate women so much, they seem to wanna fuck each other?” Sara provided, hopping off the table as she just stood there.

“Hey, what are you trying to say?!” Matt demanded, shoulders stiffening.

“I’m sorry, should I take it down to a first grade reading level?” she retorted.

Rodrick hid a smile behind the beer in his hand as he and Lauren looked at one another.

“Yo, what the fuck is your problem?” Jack demanded, taking a swig of his drink.

“I don’t have a problem,” Sara said lightly. “If you two want the room, you can have it.”

Rodrick could see plainly that Matt was fuming, as Jack stood next to him, angrily trying to contemplate their next move. Sara doubled down, glaring up at Matt as everyone remained dead silent. No one knew exactly what was going to happen next, until fortunately, a small voice interrupted the conversation.

“Rodrick?!”

They all turned to see Greg standing by the back door, panting.

“What?!” Rodrick yelled, not feeling like dealing with him.

Sara glowered in Matt’s direction, then turned to Bill, who was silently asking her to stand down. Begrudgingly, she looked at all of them one last time before grabbing Lauren and leading Greg away.

“What is it, Greg?” she asked urgently.

“…A lot!” he decided, grabbing her arm in fear. “Sara! They-They were playing spin the bottle, and then Rowley, he-he—“

“Okay, breathe!” Sara instructed. “Focus!”

Greg nodded, slowly centering himself. “We… We were playing spin the bottle, and then it landed on me and Holly… But then Fregley came in, and he stole a beer, and—”

“Hold on, Fregley was invited to this thing?!”Lauren cried.

“Focus!” Greg yelled back.

“Okay, sorry.”

“Fregley snuck a beer, cuz Dani told him to, and he gave it to Rowley, and Rowley threw up, and he’s crying…!” Greg summarized in a panic. “I don’t know what to do!”

Sara looked back in Rodrick’s direction, not seeing him paying attention, before she let out a long sigh as she and Lauren locked eyes.

“Where is he?”

“Come on,” Greg dragged her along, sounding somewhat relieved.

He led the two girls into Dani’s bedroom, which all the kids, except for Dani and Fregley, had deserted due to the mess that had been made. Rowley sat on the floor, ginger hair a mess as he sobbed uncontrollably in front of the mess. Sara huffed irritably as she sat beside him, hand on his shoulder.

“Rowley. What happened?” she asked him.

“I-I-I…” the kid was a mess. “I tried to drink the beer… But I drank it too fast, and I threw up…”

“He had turkey for lunch!” Fregley interrupted, as Sara, Lauren, and Greg all looked at him in disgust.

“Fregley, shut the fuck up!” Sara said impatiently. “You know what, everybody out! Everybody who’s not Rowley or Greg, get the fuck out!”

“But, my room!” Dani complained. “It’s a mess!”

“And we’ll clean it up,” Lauren told her. “Now get out, or I’m telling your parents you told Fregley to get the beer!”

That seemed to work as the other two kids cleared the room, leaving the girls with Greg and Rowley.

“Greg, go with Lauren and get me some paper towels, and some water, please,” Sara said as calmly as she could. “Or ginger ale, if you can find it.”

“Okay,” Greg agreed, getting up automatically.

“Rowley. How do you feel?” she said softly, hand resting on his back.

“Sad,” he mumbled, sniffling aggressively. “Thank you, Sara.”

She could tell he was having a rough time.

“Honey, I need you to think for me, okay? Do you still feel sick in any way? Like you’re gonna throw up again?” she asked him, examining him in every way possible.

“N-No,” he shook his head as she carefully felt for his body temperature.

“Do you feel clammy? Like you’re gonna faint?” she asked.

“…No.”

She sighed, still uneasy about the whole thing.

“I think we have to call your parents,” she said quietly.

“But… Greg says we’ll get in trouble!” Rowley protested half-heartedly.

“I’d rather you get in trouble then get really sick,” she pointed out.

“But… I don’t feel sick anymore!” he offered.

“Rowley… This is really serious. If something happens… or your parents find out somehow, everyone could get in a lot of trouble. Not you, but me, and Rodrick, and Mr. and Mrs. Heffley, and Dani’s parents, too,” Sara reasoned. “I really don’t like this.”

“Mr. and Mrs. Heffley could get into trouble?!” Rowley cried.

“Possibly, yes,” Sara nodded. “You’re a kid. Giving you alcohol is a crime, dude.”

“But, Fregley’s a kid, too!”

“Fregley wouldn’t be the one held accountable. It would be Dani’s parents, because this is their house, and also Greg and Rodrick’s parents, because you were under their care,” Sara tried to explain.

“But, I feel better! Really, I do!” Rowley insisted. “Please don’t tell my parents! I’ll never drink again!”

Sara sighed exhaustedly, sitting with her own thoughts for a moment until Lauren and Greg came into the room with paper towels and a bottle of water.

“Will you please not tell my parents?” Rowley begged as Greg just sat down on the floor, anxiously awaiting Sara’s decision.

“Rowley…” Lauren said regretfully, a sympathetic expression on her face.

Sara paused for a moment, stressed and somewhat inebriated as she cracked open the water bottle and handed it to Rowley. Sara knew that she had built up a certain level of improved responsibility in the past few years, but then again, she also knew the kind of things she was doing at Rowley’s age.

“Drink this, slowly,” Lauren instructed him. “Finish it. If you’re fine by then…” Sara trailed off for a moment. “Me and Rodrick took you to Dani’s house. You’re tired. If you seem kinda sick, you don’t know anything about it. Got it?” she said quietly.

Rowley nodded vigorously, grateful for her discretion. “Thank you! Thank you, Sara!”

She just sighed, shaking her head as she bundled up the paper towels and got to work. She told Greg and Rowley to wait out in the front yard as she and Lauren told Rodrick that they were all leaving, explaining to him what had happened.

“Shit… Okay,” he eventually came to terms with it. “Let’s go. I’ll tell the guys.”

“Okay,” Sara nodded as she followed.

Chris, Ben, and Bill were still stuck outside with Christy and the other two guys, talking about God knows what. Rodrick met Bill’s eyes as he told him that something had happened, and they were leaving.

“Already?!” Ben complained. “It’s not even seven yet!”

Sara and Rodrick both ignored him completely.

“We’re leaving, guys,” Rodrick reiterated. “Catch you later.”

“Oh, you’re so pussy-whipped!” Matt laughed, as Ben laughed with him. “Seriously, dude? For a girl who’s probably had more guys inside her than a locker room?”

“Shut the fuck up, Matt,” Lauren snapped, as the guys only got more annoying. “Everyone knows you’re a pathetic sack of shit with a shrimp dick!”

The expression on Rodrick Heffley’s face, however, quickly changed from playfully exasperated to completely void of humor. Bill also was growing increasingly uncomfortable as he visibly seemed to take a more aggressive stance.

“What did you just say?” Rodrick asked Matt, slowly stepping toward him as everything else disappeared for him.

Matt laughed awkwardly, seeming for some reason surprised by the reaction.

“Yo!” he protested.

“What the fuck did you just say, man?!” Bill boomed as some heads began to turn in their direction.

“Woah! Calm down, it was just a joke, man,” he laughed insufferably. “Come on! You can’t take a joke?!”

“That’s not a joke,” Lauren said warningly, as Rodrick just remained quiet.

“Rodrick? Sara?”

Rodrick was already too far gone, but Sara looked toward the back door, alarmed, as Greg and Rowley both stood out in the backyard, waiting for them to leave.

“Yeah… No one talks about my sister like that,” Bill towered over him, pointing an accusing finger.

“Greg! Rowley!” Sara warned. “Go outside!”

“But, Sara,” Greg protested, seeing what was going on with Rodrick.

“Go!” Sara boomed.

Neither of the boys listened, and she was too preoccupied with Rodrick.

“Don’t make me make you regret that, you fucking piece of shit,” Rodrick threatened Matt, on an aggressive high.

“Jeez! You and your fucking feminazi girlfriend!”

A loud, distinctive cracking sound filled the air. There were gasps, shouts, and even a couple screams. Greg gasped silently, while Rowley started to panic. Sara saw as the poor kid looked like he was about to start crying.

“What the fuck?!” Christy shrieked in horror.

Sara didn’t speak, and Lauren was completely stunned as she just stood there for a moment, mouth agape as she stood beside Bill, who instinctively rested a protective hand on her back. For a split second, Sara had no idea what had happened, but one thing was for sure. Matt’s nose was broken.

“Break Stuff”

#rodrick heffley #rodrick fanfic #rodrick rules #rodrick x reader #rodrick x y/n #diary of a wimpy kid rodrick #diary of a wimpy kid #doawk rodrick #doawk #rodrick heffley x y/n #rodrick heffley x reader #devon bostick

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redpanther23 · 2 months

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GREETINGS FROM MEOWTER SPACE.

In my travels I've come to find that I have an extremely strange family background. I'm going to be talking about it in some essays, which may contain descriptions of abuse and neglect. Here's the first one (it's long as fuck.)

On my mom's side, my great great grandmother was Creek. She was alive when I was born, and we briefly met. She was over 125 years old (nobody knows how old exactly.) The men on that side, who were all Scottish, died in their early 40s, except for my grandfather, who left when my mom was a kid. (I met him once, but my mom didn't want me to be around anyone Christian as a kid, so I never met anyone else on that side of the family.) I barely know anything about my Scottish ancestry, although growing up we called the native grapes "bullises," which is a Gaelic word for plums (they're also called muscadines, but I don't know what the truth is anymore.)

My family were subsistance farmers since before colonization, until my grandma became a schoolteacher. Our family moved to what would later be the Free State of Jones from what would later be Alabama, though I'm not sure why. During the Civil War, people in Jones county refused to fight, since nobody owned slaves in the area, and it was declared a Free State. My grandma lives in the Free State, in abject poverty with my uncle and his wife, who just scream at each other and beat their kids and neglect their 15 hoarded dogs all day. And if they have a problem with me saying so, they can eat shit and die.

My mom went to school for anthropology, and taught geology at the University of Southern Mississippi. She was extremely ashamed of how poor our background is, and I wasn't allowed to visit family much, although I wanted to very badly. I got to live with my grandma and my two adopted uncles who are around my age for a little while when we were kids, and they're some of the only positive childhood memories I have. I was extremely isolated and abused, especially by my step dad, who is currently (to my knowledge) employed as a programmer at a major video game company, as well as being a child molester starting when I was 2 or 3 years old (some of my earliest memories.) His name is Rigel Cameron Freeman. I ran away when I was 16 to live with my dad. When I told my mom what he did, she called me a liar and quit speaking to me, and that was the last I heard from her directly. So far as I know, she's been in mental hospitals pretty much since I left.

My dad's mom, whose first name was Ellen, was Ashkenazi Jewish, descended from a family who left Germany before the holocaust. She was a beatnik who was friends with Jack Kerouac and Allen Ginsburg, and she had personal beef with Grace Slick over a boyfriend. My dad's first guitar was a gift from Cat Stevens, although this was something he was a little embarrassed about and only mentioned to me once. She was especially close friends with Tiny Tim. She was in California trying to break into acting, and almost got a part in the Godfather allegedly (actually all of this is alleged by my dad, I only met her once. He really didn't like her, so I don't think he would make it up.)

Then she met my grandfather, Bob Marshall, who was probably in California to do drugs (sacred family tradition.) I have reason to believe he was mostly Choctaw and possibly Irish, although on that side of the family it's traditional to claim to be "French or Italian" unless you're very drunk, and then it's okay to be Indian. They moved up to Alaska and lived on the Athabaskan reservation, where my father, Rogan Russell Marshall, was born on April 19. Later, my grandfather became a civil rights lawyer, and he defended the right for prisoners with AIDS to be desegregated (basically anyone with AIDS would die in solitary before that.)

My dad got into Emerson, dropped out because no one could afford textbooks, moved to Mississippi and started this crazy punk band, and then went ahead and wrote some movies anyway. My favorite is called the Attic Expeditions, it features Seth Green, Jeffery Combs, and Alice Cooper, and it's very trippy and fun. Unfortunately, he became disabled from the same autoimmune condition I have, ankylosing spondylitis, which, if you're born male, has much more severe symptoms (which is why I chose not to start testosterone.) AS used to be thought of as genetic, but has recently been linked to environmental pollutants, and I was likely exposed to something released by one of our many chemical factories (my uncle who abuses his kids and dogs is adopted, I mentioned earlier, grew up in my grandma's house when we were kids together, and has the same symptoms, and multiple people who lived on the same Hattiesburg street as my dad in the 90s were diagnosed.) He was living in Massachussetts in his mom's basement when he married my step mom, a public defense attourney, to get health insurance, and they lived in Miami for eight years together until she left him, shortly after I moved in.

After that, I had to drop out of high school, and I lived in hell for about seven years while I worked full time, usually multiple jobs, to take care of us, and all the cats he would bring home (as many as 13, but I ran my house like a cat ranch and it was kind of beautiful.) His physical and mental health was dogshit, he wouldn't stop doing hard drugs, and our relationship was so hopelessly abusive that I had to quit speaking to him as well. My feelings are complicated because, while I love and admire his work, and he taught me a lot of extremely valuable and positive things, the things he did to me would put him in prison if I believed in the law. I owe him everything, and at the same time, I almost wish we'd never met (I'll have to talk about that in another post as well, because it's a lot, and exremely heavy.)

My third parent, Scott Panther, I honestly don't know very well. According to local legend, and there are many about him, he's Scottish and Cherokee. He was close friends with my parents before I was born, helped start Rong (and probably came up with the best ideas for it.) He was my mom's boyfriend for a long time before I was born.

My mom met Scott and Rogan at a Rong show, I was conceived after a Rong show (Scott drove Rogan to her house), and the night I was born there was a Rong show. Scott was overdosing when my mom went into labor, and I was born at 4 AM while multiple tornadoes passed through town. Later that night, he was ready to play the show (hats off). No one told Rogan I was born, though in the full video of the show he mentions the other people in town who were born on April 18. Unfortunately, the video is probably lost - he gave all the Rong tapes to someone I don't know, and he didn't say who (he may have even been lying and threw them away.)

I inherited a lot of personality traits from Scott, as many people who know us have noticed, although I gained them not through direct teaching, or through any modern understanding of genetics. I've read that before colonization these kind of things were more common and better understood.

#red panther speaks

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winter-leftovers · 4 months

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Til The End Of Eternity || Chapter nineteen: Night Shift (19/?)

(Douxie Casperan x f!reader)

Summary: Y/n is trying to figure her life out but is going to be hard since her brother is the new trollhunter and she is plagued by dreams and feelings she doesn’t understand.

Chapter Summary: Gunmar finds the trolls’s hideout

Word count: 1480

Warnings: no. Should a ben platt song be a warning? Im just kidding

(Season 3 Episodes 1)

Song?: Grow as we go by Ben Platt

Previous - Next

Masterlist

Y/n sat on the couch with her gaze lost in the dancing of the branches of the tree that lived outside her house against the pink sky while she absentmindedly stroked Al’s back furr.

“You seemed distracted” Al turned his head.

Y/n sighed “Can I tell…you something?” She looked down at him.

Al stretched his legs and turned himself to be belly up.

“You can’t tell, Hisirdoux” she stopped petting his belly.

“I’m always loyal to you. You have always been more generous with the tuna” his brown tail twitched at the thought of food.

“I remembered…about Morgana” she whispered, not being able to look him in the eye “My sister” she smiled over the grief.

“Morgana?” Al’s pupils retracted.

“She was my sister and she died” Y/n closed her eyes, the turbulence of the sea coming back to her “she was murdered” she repeated, the feeling of betrayal was still fresh on her chest.

Alfred sat up when he heard her. It wasn’t a false alarm. Y/n was remembering.

“Y/n, I…” he put his paw on her leg.

“No. I just…” she turned back to the tree and cleaned away the tear that fell “I just need to process it again. I…Just…Don’t tell Douxie. Alright? He’s so excited with the battle of the bands” Y/n didn’t let him answer, she didn’t want to have this conversation, she stood up and went to the kitchen where she left her phone charging. A message from Jim light up the screen:

‘Tell ur friend to stay away from Claire’

Y/n rolled her eyes and went to prepare herself for the night guard.

—

The sun had long left the sky of Arcadia. Jim and Y/n were walking along the entryway of the old abandoned warehouse where the trolls were hiding after the fall of trollmarket. The Lake siblings were putting more enchanted Nuñez signs to keep the gumm gumms away.

“Have you been to the basement lately?” Jim interrupted the comfortable silence.

Y/n frowned, the memory of her mother’s art coming back to her “Yes” she shook her head. Her mother’s portrait of Blinky was strangely good “I didn’t know she could paint”

“We have to do something”

“I mean, it was bound to happen. You can’t permanently delete someone's memories without damaging their brain or someone actually taking them from you” Y/n shrugged and continued her task.

Jim turned to her sister, mouth wide open. How did she know that?

“What?” He asked.

She turned back at him, eyes wide open like a deer in headlights. She hasn't told his brother the truth about herself. She wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was that she didn’t know the whole truth, only bits and pieces or maybe it was because she’s afraid of losing another family.

“Master Jim, Lady Y/n, thought you could use this” Blinky interrupted the awkward stare down and brought the two cups “I manage to scrounge up all the components for a fine cup of coffee”

Y/n smiled grateful for the coffee and the interruption. She took the cup up to her nose and stopped, her brows furrowed at the smell of the coffee. It didn’t smell right.

Jim took a sip as Blinky announced that he used an old gym sock as a filter. The Trollhunter spited the drink into the troll face.

“Ugh!” Y/n pushed the cup as far as she could from her face.

“I know. I’m not a fan of the french roast either” Blinky wiped his face “How's the watch?”

“It’s given me time to think, Blinky, this Gunmar stuff and…the Eternal Night. What if I don’t have it in me to stop it?” Jim asked, his eyes filled with worry.

Y/n gave him half a smile and put her free arm around his shoulders as they started to walk. She knew his brother had what it took to stop Gunmar, Merlin’s amulet doesn’t make mistakes, she told him this before but it doesn’t matter, she could shout it from the top of every building in Arcadia, Jim has to realize it himself.

“We’ve discussed this before. Your heart is stronger than you know” reminded Blinky

“What if heart isn’t enough? This is Gunmar. He's ruthless. He…He doesn’t show mercy”

Quick lashes of the war appeared in Y/n’s brain. Jim was right. Heart isn’t enough.

“That may be true, Jim but you’re kind, smart and strong, stronger than you think. Gunmar may be a ruthless monster or whatever, but he has never won anything” Y/n pushed Jim closer to her. No matter how insecure she feels right now, she trusts her brother and his ability to win this.

“That doesn’t change the fact that Gunmar is ruthless” Jim insisted.

“Yes, Gunmar is a savage,and that’s precisely why we left his violent ways and searched for a new path” Blinky recounted “Master Jim, as our Trollhunter you have been, eh, awful” Blinky gave him a half smile “so many times, making horrible, horrible mistakes”

“Hey!” the siblings complained at the same time

“I’m trying my best!”

“He is trying his best”

“Precisely!” Blinky put his hand on Jim’s shoulder “And that’s why I would follow you to the ends of the earth. You are human. You grow. You learn from your mistakes. You always try to make the right choice. Unlike Gunmar, I believe trolls can grow with you”

“Let’s hope you’re right” Jim sighed.

“Jim…”Y/n called for her brother. When she lifted her eyes, she noticed that all the signs were gone.

“The signs. Where’d they all go?” Jim looked around and couldn’t see the signs.

“Jim, Y/n” Blinky screamed as the three of them saw the last sign disappear behind a bush.

“Why is the bush growling?” Y/n started to take steps back as the gumm gumms started to emerge from the woods.

“Oh no, for the glory of Merlin daylight is mine to command”

Blinky and Y/n ran to the warehouse to alert the refugees of trollmarket while Jim distracted the gumm gumms.

“We’ve been compromised! We must defend our ground!” Blinky screamed as he closed the door with the help of Y/n.

“Jim!” Y/n screamed.

The trollhunter slowly lifted himself from the ground after a gumm gumm threw him through a window.

“I’m okay” he stood tall and grabbed her sister’s hand “I’m okay”

“Trolls, stand with me! For tonight, we…” Blinky found himself alone when the gumm gumms opened the door.

“Whatever” said a troll before leaving.

Y/n took a deep breath and ran to a lead pipe that laid on the other side of the room. Avoiding big, rocky hands, she grabbed the pipe from the floor and started swinging, trying to take the attention away from Aaarrrgghh and Blinky that were taking the trolls to the swears.

“There’s too many of them!” Y/n screamed to anyone who’ll listen.

“If only I could use my staff” she thought.

“We have to get them all…” screamed back Jim.

Draal rolled in and pushed Jim to the floor:

“I told you this husk wouldn’t stop coming after you but you let Draal live. Now you will die!” Gunmar laughed through Draal’s body and attacked Jim, taking the fight outside.

“No” Y/n whispered and with all her anger, kicked the gumm gumm she had on top of her, killing it when it hit the wall.

Y/n got tired. She dropped the lead pipe and undrawed her staff, taking care of the rest of the gumm gumm with some magic and the sharp end of it.

“Are you coming or not?” Asked NotEnrique.

Y/n and Blinky looked at eachother.

“We have to help Jim” she answer

They ran outside and followed the sound of the struggle of battle , quickly finding Jim standing on top of cursed Draal with his sword in his hand ready to strike.

“Master Jim! Don’t do it!” Screamed Blinky

“Do it, trollhunter!” Taunted Bular “If you think your armor’s too much to shoulder today. I’ll make sure it’ll break you tomorrow! I found you once. I will find you again. Kill him”

“I’m the trollhunter” Jim reminded him.

“Master Jim, we must leave at once”

“You cannot escape me. I’ll find you” Gunmar screamed as Blinky and Jim started to walk out. Y/n stood there observing him for a moment. She remembers him as stuff of nightmares, as the thing that would lure in the shadow that would bring her to tears as a child but now? She feels pity. How many times is he going to fight a war he is going to lose? How many times is going to try to win a world that doesn’t want him?

“What do you want, witch?” He spits

“You haven’t learnt your lesson, haven’t you?”

A/n: Happy new year’s 🎉🎉 I bet you weren’t expecting this huh? I’m uploading this with 2 hs of sleep and ready to go to a pool to keep parting 🫡 hope you’re having fun as well

#tales of arcadia #douxie x reader #douxie #toa #trollhunters #hisirdoux casperan #hisirdoux x reader #my writing #Til The End Of Eternity

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fallingforel · 11 months

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98 with alex turner, please!

A/N: hey my lovely of course I will do this for you. as always requests are open and you can find everything you need to on my blog masterlist which is linked and pinned at the top of my profile anwhooo... on with the show.

PROMPT 98: "I won't let anything bad happen to you"

words: 862 words

⋆｡°✩

"COME ON Y/N JUMP! IT'S ONLY 5 FEET. IT'S NOT THAT HIGH" "STILL IS HIGH MATT, I AINT JUMPING THAT, WHAT IF I DIE? OR WORSE BREAK MY ANKLE! I CAN'T DO IT" "JUST JUMP COME ON"

How did I get in this position in the first place I hear you ask, well I'll tell you. I had joined my boyfriend Alex and his band on tour for the first time. And all of us were sick and tired of doing the same thing in and out every night, arriving in the first city in early hours of the morning, breakfast, sound check, lunch, quick fag break, back inside to make sure everything runs smoothly, performing, going out for a quick drink and then back on the tour bus for midnight to travel to the next city and then doing it all again the next day. It had all become boring for all of us so we begged and pleaded the bands tour manager for a couple of nights in one city which after much breakdown (fake tears and a bit of the dramatics) from me, the tour manager had given us an extra day to explore.

so after the show we went out into the streets of paris, went to a nightclub and then went to one of the lovely girls that I had met that night's flat but her boyfriend had come home early and he didn't particularly like albeit strangers in his house (which is understandable) so now I was currently having to jump off the balcony of this girls flat, before the boyfriend had come back and we couldn't exactly go down into the lobby because we needed a fob from the girl to let us out and the boyfriend was going to be arriving into the lobby. So the quickest way was jumping down from the balcony, to be fair it wasn't a very high jump maybe about 3 to five feet as she lived on the first floor, I could've done it sober, which was exactly the issue. I had downed about 5 sambuka shots on top of the aperol spritz so safe to say I was as drunk as an uncle at a family gathering.

"DOVEY?" Alex shouted up from the balcony. "YES?" I replied to his question and deemed pet name from the night we met. "DO YOU TRUST ME?" "YES!" "SO JUMP I PROMISE I'LL CATCH YOU IT HONESTLY ISN'T THAT HIGH, COME ON DOLL" "Fuck it" I say before I jump and flail my arms about and land straight into Alex's arms.

"see it wasn't that bad, told you I'd catch you" "and you did, didn't doubt you for a second, I mean it when I say I trust you completly Al" "And I mean it when I say I won't let anything bad happen to you. over my dead body, I'd die for you y/n/n" "okay calm down the dramatics boy, someone has had a few too many" "says you, 'AHH! I can't jump It's too high.' it was more like two feet in the air, You'd easily jump that if you were sober y/n" Matt pipes up from besides us.

"VOUS AVEZ BESOIN D'Y ALLER, IL ARRIVE PAR L'ARRIÈRE. EXÉCUTION RAPIDE" the girl said from up the top, it got me alarmed as I was partly french, having grown up here for the first 16 years of my life and always talking to my parents in it.

"what did she say dovey?" Alex asked in a whisper from beside me into my ear. "NO TIME TO EXPLAIN! JUST RUN" I say before taking off and everyone following.

I had ran all the way until the tour bus was in view. "What the fuck was that back there y/n?" Matt asked, half out of breath, running up to me before stopping to my side. "her boyfriend was coming round the side, think he heard her shouting and the music from the apartment, we had to run before he got us, french men are scary. I grew up here remember I know exactly what goes on."

Is all I say before I'm disappearing into the tour bus bathroom to get ready for some rest.

Making my way to Alex's bunk, I climb up and make myself comfortable under the duvet settling down waiting for Alex to come back. Which he does within 15 minutes of me getting there. "makes a nice change doesn't it?" he asks before he settles down and pulls me in for a hug on his chest. "what does?" I ask. "not doing the same thing every night, I liked the chaos tonight. Have to remind you to put the dramatics on when we get to sheffield, need to show you where I grew up, seen as you're showing me where you grew up tommorow" "yeah just say the words and I'll do it anything for you baby" "okay dovey, lets get some sleep now. gotta rest that alcohol off got a packed day tommorrow" Is the last thing we say to eachother before we start a new day in france, this time closer to where I grew up.

#alex turner x reader #alex turner x you #alex turner x oc #alex turner fluff #alex turner fic #alex turner #arctic monkeys

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wh0re4harrington · 2 years

Text

I’m Serious / Robin Buckley x Henderson!Reader

Summary- basically bsf to lovers, but it’s all fluff.

Warnings- none it’s all fluff oh and fem!reader duh cause it’s robin

Word count- 4.1k

A/N- I’m probably gonna right a pt 2 to this that will be smutty hehe, also please let me know if y’all like this, i tried to write the characters the most accurate as i could but i’m totally open to advice lol <3

“Ahoy” You said as you walked through the door of the family video, smiling at Steve as he rolled his eyes at you.

“Never gonna let me live it down huh?” He said

“Not a chance Harrington”

You, Steve, and Robin had all worked at Scoops Ahoy together last year before everything went to shit, and all three of you had ended up tied together in some russian base underneath the starcourt mall. It was a terrible situation but it made for a great bonding experience. You were just thankful yall got out of there before you got drugged like the other two.

You and Steve had become friends because of your little brother, Dustin, who somehow became attached to Steve's hip during the group's first round with the Mind Flayer. It didn’t bother you that he was always around because you knew Dustin needed him, Steve could give him advice that you couldn’t.

Besides it gave Steve someone to hangout with when you and Robin wanted to have girl time. After saving the world together you and Robin had become basically inseparable. She was your best friend, and probably the funniest person you’ve ever met. She complimented you very well, because she never shut up, and you loved to listen. It didn’t matter if she was ranting about some new avant guard french movie she saw, or the music she was working on for band, you were always happy to listen, and chime in whenever she ran out of breath.

“Here to pick out you and Robin’s movie for tonight?” Steve asked as you reached the counter, leaning on it with your elbows.

“Yup, I think I want some time of romantic drama today, figured it would be better than last week when we watched Nightmare on Elm Street” You chuckled.

“No I’m serious Y/N, what if it’s real?! I mean if the upside down is real how can you be so sure that some man won’t creep into my dreams and murder me right here in your bed???” Robin said frantically “ I mean seriously we fought a giant monster made out of human flesh and rats with a girl who can move things with her mind! Her mind Y/N! Anything is possible!” She paused for a breath.

“I'm sure he isn’t real Robin, we can sleep” You had said trying to convince her

“I’m going to make a cup of coffee” She said before quickly getting up. “Being murdered in my sleep is my second biggest fear you know! Right behind rabies!” She had shouted while jogging down the hall.

“Yeah, that is the last time we watch a horror movie” You said.

“Hey I told you when you rented it, that it was a bad idea” Steve said while rewinding the tape on some random movie. “You just don’t listen”

“I listen” You protested leaving the counter and walking towards the drama section “Just not to someone who uses Farrah Fawcett hair spray” You laughed running your fingers along the VHS tapes that started with the letter A.

“I swear to god I’m gonna kill your brother, Henderson” Steve said “I said that in confidence” He mumbled upset.

You disagreed though, it wasn’t a bad idea.

You breathed in through your nose, the smell of peaches and warm vanilla filled your nose. You had always loved the way Robin’s shampoo and perfume mixed to cause this intoxicating aroma. After a few hours of claiming she was gonna get murdered in her sleep Robin had finally gone to bed, her arm was strewn across your body and you were facing each other. You examined your messy hair, tousled from sleep, and all her little freckles, the way she rose and fell with breath. You felt a butterfly in stomach as she unconsciously pulled you towards her. And thats when you snapped out of it. ‘Oh my god’ You had thought. ‘I can’t think about her like that, she is a girl and not just any girl, my best friend.’ You panicked and scooted away, rolling over. ‘And I like guys right? Right?’

You had stayed up the rest of the night, mulling over in your head what it meant, the butterflies. You thought back to all the times you had hangout with Robin, and the way she made you feel. ‘Shit.’ You thought. ‘I like Robin’

You didn’t see anything that peaked your interest in the A section, you moved onto the Bs. “hmmm” You hummed while you read the titles until one caught your “The Bostonians” You mumbled as you grabbed it and walked towards the counters.

“Harrington, will you pull up Robins rental history, I don’t wanna spend money on a movie she has already seen”

“Alrighty, uh what movie is it?” He asked while staring at the computer screen.

“The Bostonians,” You said.

“Nope, you’re good” He said and you slide the VHS over the counter towards him.

“Okay cool” You smiled.

“Oh my Mom watched this the other day, apparently there are lesbians in the movie, so Robin sh-” Steve cut himself off. You raised an eyebrow at him, suddenly nervous that maybe Robin would think it was weird that you had picked out that movie, and maybe she would catch on to the fact that you might be lesbian.

Steve must’ve seen the panic on your face because he quickly began talking again “I mean uh, Robin will love it the cinematography is right up her alley, lots of artsy shots and symbolism or whatever” He said handing you back the movie as you passed him some cash. You were nervous now, well more than you already were before finding out that you were bringing a lesbian movie to your best friends house who you might have feelings for.

“Are you okay?” Steve asked, looking at you concerned.

“I- uh um yeah” You fake laughed “ Why would I be nervous? It’s just lesbians? Why would that bother me? Is there something wrong with a girl having feelings for another girl Steve?” You word vomited out.

“I-I, no no there isn’t anything wrong with- I love lesbians” Steve said flustered, you looked at him weirdly “ I mean- No not like in a pervy way- I just mean that they are cool. Like nothing wrong with it. I support them or- I'm an ally…I think thats the word for it” He said.

“Oh…cool…good” You smiled at him, turning to leave.

“I didn’t say you were nervous by the way!” He said looking at you questioningly. You froze, turning back around.

“You didn’t? Oh silly me” You laughed nervously

“Are you? Are you nervous to hangout with Robin?” He asked still confused

“Whaaat? No? Pfft” You huff trying to play it cool like Steve wasn’t about to piece everything together.

“Uh Yes you are!” He said triumphantly “But why would you be- Unless…” It looked like a lightbulb went off in his head “OH MY GOD” He squealed “You have a cr-”

You cut him off by running up and slamming your hand over his mouth.

“Harrington!” You whisper yelled “Shut the fuck up right now, before someone walks in, or Keith hears” You said, his eyes where wide as you removed your hand.

“I didn’t know you where gay!” He whispered “Why didn’t I know this, we have been friends for so long!”

“Well I didn’t know till like a week ago so” You huffed

“That explains why you never tried to flirt with me” He laughed

“Yup okay I'm leaving now Steve” You rolled your eyes before turning to leave,for real this time.

“I won’t say anything!” He said “But you should tell her! Trust me!” He said before the door closed behind you. What did he mean by that, ‘Trust me?’.

One Year Earlier

Robins POV

“Have you…ever been in love?” I questioned Steve, while sitting on the bathroom floor after just puking my guts out cause I was drugged by Russians in a base underneath the mall.

“Yup, Nancy Wheeler, first semester senior year” He says through the stall, before doing a fake gunshot sound.

“Oh my god” I rolled my eyes at him “She is such a priss” I said thinking about Nancy Wheeler, chief editor of the school paper, valedictorian of my grade, I think she is dating Jonathan Byers

Steve paused “Hm. Turns out, not really”

I scoffed at him “Are you still in love with Nancy?” I prodded

He paused for a moment “No.” He said finally

“Why not?”

Another pause.

“I guess because I found someone who is a little bit better for me.” He pauses again.

I think in my head, I think about Y/N.

“Its crazy” He continued “Ever since Dustin got home he’s been saying You gotta find your Suzie, You gotta find your Suzie” He said

Suddenly I was confused, I’m sure he is talking about Y/N which hurts but who was Suzie?

“Wait who’s Suzie” I ask

“It’s some girl from camp” He breathed from the other stall “ I guess his girlfriend? To be honest with you I’m not even 100 percent sure she's even real” He chuckled

I nodded my head, less confused now.

“But thats not- thats not really the point” He paused “That doesn’t matter, the point is, this girl, you know, the one the one that I like” He pauses. My heart clenches, if it’s Y/N I’ll just have to suck it up, they are my friends first, and there is no way someone wouldn’t like Steve back, he is Steve Harrington for crying out loud.

“It’s somebody that I didn’t even talk to in school.” He pauses, and now I’m confused again because I remember watching Steve and Y/N have conversations in Mrs. Clicks class. “And I don’t even know why” He continued “ Maybe cause Tommy H. would’ve made fun of me or I wouldn’t be prom king” He paused

“It’s stupid” He huffed “I mean Dustins right, it’s all just a bunch of bullshit anyways. Because when I think about it, I should’ve been hanging out with this girl the whole time. Cause first of all she’s hilarious. She’s so funny. I feel like, this summer, I have laughed harder than I have laughed in a really long time…And she’s smart, way smarter than me.”

That’s when things start to click for me and my heart hurts. Steve is opening up to me about this, and I can’t even reciprocate it.

He continues “You know, she can crack, like, top secret russian codes, and…You know? She is honestly unlike anyone I have ever met before.” He finished

My heart breaks as I lower my head between my knees. ‘Fuck’ I think. I bring my hands up and run them through my hair.

“Robin?” He asks softly before taping on the stall wall in between us. “Robin, Did you just OD in there?” He asked, concerned.

“No” I say, letting out a sigh. “I…am still alive” I breathe. And sigh again knowing that I was going to have to decide whether I was about to come out to the first time, to none other the Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington or lie to him by making up some other reason. But the worst part of it was that either way I was going to be hurting him, someone who despite all the odds, is one of my best friends. I lean back against the wall propping my leg up against the stall. Thats when I hear the squeak of Steve’s shoe as he slides under, into my stall.

“That floor is disgusting” I say looking at him, his face was all busted up and swollen.

“Yeah, well I already got a bunch of blood and puke on my shirt, so..” He jokes dryly and I chuckle a little.

“What do you think?” He asks.

“About?” I respond trying to play dumb.

“This girl.”

“She sounds awesome” I say still avoiding

“She is awesome.” He nods his head “ And what about the guy?” He asked

“I think he is on drugs, and he’s not thinking straight” I responded hoping he was just high and babbling, but knowing that wasn’t the case.

“Really? Cause I think he is thinking a lot more clearly than usual” He responds looking me in the eyes.

“He’s not.” I say harshly before continuing “Look, he doesn’t even know this girl.” I continued, the look in his eyes wasn't upset, or angry, but instead it was full of care, and that is when I decided. “And if he did know her, like-like really know her, I don’t think he would even want to be her friend.” The words hurt as I said them, the fear creeping into my voice.

“No, that’s not true” Steve said “No way is that true” He leaned forward.

“Listen to me Steve,” I said nervously. I am really about to do this. “It’s shocked me to my core, but I like you” I pause “I really like you, but I’m not like your other friends, and I’m not like Nancy Wheeler.” I say hoping that's enough.

“Robin, that’s exactly why I like you.” He said clearly not getting it.

“Do you remember what I said about Mrs. Click’s class? About me being jealous and, like, obsessed?” I asked

He nods, “Yeah”

“It isn’t because I had a crush on you.” I take a deep breathe in preparation “It’s because she wouldn’t stop staring at you.” I said

Steve being visibly confused, “Mrs. Click?” He asked puzzled and I laughed.

“Y/N” I answered “I wanted her to look at me. But” I breathe “She couldn’t pull her eyes away from you and your stupid hair.” I say glancing up at his hair somehow still perfect atop his head. “And I didn’t understand, because you would get bagel crumbs all over the floor. And you asked dumb questions. And you were a douchebag.” I pause as he stared back at me

“And-And you didn’t even like her and I would go home and just scream into my pillow.And then this summer, I see it again, the way she laughs more when you’re around, and getting to know her, the music she likes, her laugh, I- I just” I said stopping before the lump in my throat got to big. He looked at my confused

“But…Y/N’s a girl…” He said looking at me still not getting it.

“Steve” I whisper, begging him to figure it out.

“Yeah?” He said, and I could see it click in his brain. “Oh.” He said softly

“Oh” I nodded my head.

“Holy shit”

“Yeah” I looked up “Holy shit” I can’t believe I actually just came out to Steve. We sat in silence for a few moments, the air felt heavy “Steve, did you OD over there?” I asked.

“No, I just, uh just thinking” He said looking at his hands

“Okay” I said quietly, nervous.

“I mean yeah Y/N, you know she’s cute and all, but I mean she’s a total nerd” He said smiling at me. And suddenly the air felt lighter

Present

It had been a few hours since you had that odd interaction/accidental coming out with Steve and you were now nervously waiting outside of Robin's house for her so you could drive to your house to watch the movie, since your parents weren’t home.

You couldn’t stop replaying that last thing Steve had said over in your head. Why would he want you to tell her? Did he want you to risk ruining your friendship? Or did he know something you didn’t? These questions had been plaguing your mind all day to the point that you had even asked Dustin where Eddie lived and gone to buy some pre-rolls. You had smoked before, the occasional joint shared between you and Steve wasn’t unusual, and sometimes Robin had joined in on the fun. Your plan was to bring it up casually before the movie started, to try and use it to calm your nerves.

Finally Robin comes out of the house, and makes her way to your passenger seat.

“Hey Henderson” She smiled, chewing on some gum. Suddenly you didn’t feel so nervous, it was just Robin, she was your best friend.

“Hi” You chuckled as she put her seat belt on, you watched, making sure it buckled before you backed out. “Is that a new ring?” You asked, noticing one with a black jewel.

“Yeah, you like it?” She asked, wiggling her finger in front of your face. “Isn't it cool? I thought it would make me look all mysterious, you know? Cause it's black” She said, pulling hand back to look at it herself. You chuckled, and seemingly from nowhere gained the confidence to test the waters

“I like it, it’s hot” You said trying to sound nonchalant, you could see Robin freeze, blushing. “And mysterious” You added looking over at her smiling.

“Thanks-uh thank you” She smiled, blush still lingering on her cheeks, which to you was a good sign “So uh, what movie did you pick?” She said after clearing her throat.

“The Bostonians”

“Is that the one where the girl is in love with the other girl?” Robin asked, playing with her rings.

“Yeah. You know you can just say lesbians?” You raised an eyebrows.

“Oh yeah I know.” She said, “I just- I uh didn’t think you would like uh- those kinds of movies” She said sounding almost nervous, which in turn made you nervous because what if she was uncomfortable and maybe this was a bad idea.

“Oh uh…do you want to grab a different one? If I speed we can make it before Family Video closes” You said nervously, checking the time on your watch

“No!” She said quickly “I-I want to watch it”

“Okay, uh me too” You cleared your throat “I- uh I went by Eddies earlier”

“Munson?” She asked, raising an eyebrow, while bringing her hand up to bite her nails.

“Yeah, he plays DnD with Dustin” You said “He also happens to sell these babies”

You reach over and open the glove box, where 2 perfectly rolled joints sit.

Robin grabs one and rolls it between her fingers “Oh so it’s that kind of movie night?” She laughs and you nod “In that case we should stop and get snack, cause last time we smoked with Steve he only had barbecue chips, and you know I’m a salt and vinegar person so I was like starving and I can not do that again”

“Your wish is my command”

You pull into the first gas station you see for snacks.

“All right princess, let’s go” You say getting out of the car. Robin rolls her eyes at the pet name, walking into the gas station.

“Hmmm well we definitely need peanut M&Ms because they are simply the best candy, crunchy and sweet and not messy. But then we need something sour to cut the sweetness, so nerds ropes cause again they are crunchy” Robin says as she walks down the candy aisle. “But we can’t just have candy, and I don’t like the way popcorn butter makes my mouth feel so I’m thinking…Bugles?” She turns

“Whatever you want” You smile, grabbing the M&Ms and Nerds Ropes

“Well you're no help” She huffed before grabbing a bag, she made her way over to the drink cooler and grabbed a mountain dew and a doctor pepper.

“Aw, you knew what I wanted” You say, hip bumping her.

“Well yeah, you get the same thing everytime” She chuckled “Besides I think I know everything about you”

“Not everything” You say, bumping your eyebrows and walking towards the counter.

“What? What do you mean? I-I how? We have played 20 questions at least once a week for the past year! There aren’t any questions left!”

The snacks were laid out on your living room floor in front of the mess of blankets and pillows you and Robin had thrown on the floor until you thought it was comfortable enough.

“Dammit” You mumbled with the joint between your lips. The lighter was being a bitch and not working.

“Here let me” Robin said, scooting closer and grabbing the lighter from your hands. Her fingers were soft, and her rings were cold, you could feel her touch linger there even after she grabbed the lighter. She leaned in, her face much closer to yours. You examined her face as she brought the lighter up to the end of joint, lighting it on her first try. Her face lingered there, in the closeness, for a moment. Something about what just happened seemed oddly intimate for such a mundane thing.

“Uh- wow you made it seem easy” You say before taking a drag. You hold in the smoke for a few moments.

“I have the magic touch” She chuckled. You blew out a soft cloud of smoke before laying back onto the pillows. Robin followed suit, layin down as you passed her the joint. You watched as she took the joint between her lips. She looked so perfect in that moment, hair strewn out, her ringing fingers holding a joint, laying next to you, that familiar peach and vanilla smell now laced with weed.

“Pretty” You whispered, not sure she could even hear you. She didn’t respond but you knew she heard because of the soft rose color that spread across her cheeks as she let out the smoke.

“Jeez Henderson, making me blush today huh?” She tried to play it cool, offering back the joint.

“Just being honest Buckley” You said, before taking another long drag.

“Oh shut it” She said shoving your arm

“What? I said you’re pretty? I’m not lying” You said releasing your hit.

“Come on, you have to say that” Robin argued

“Robin seriously?” You raised an eyebrow, turning onto your side, leaning on your elbow. “You’re like a total smoke show” You said.

“Y/N stop” She said covering her face “For real.”

“No Robin, I’m serious you are hot, like have you looked in a mirror?”

“Y/N” She said softly, suddenly the mood in the room shifted. “Please, stop”

You stared at her, she seemed sad, which confused you cause you were trying to give her a compliment. Maybe she thought you were joking.

“Rob, are you okay?” You asked, reaching towards her but she rolled away from your touch. “Come on Robin, talk to me” Still no response, which caused your heart to feel like it was being squeezed “I- I’m sorry, I don’t whats wrong, but I’m really sorry”

“You didn’t do anything wrong” She said, finally rolling back towards you.

“Well then why are you upset?” You asked. “I was being serious Rob”

“That’s just it Y/N, I know you were being serious, it's just-...I- it’s just nothing. It's nothing.” she said, sitting up. “Lets just watch the movie” She said as she got up to go press play.

“No” You said sitting up, you were upset that she wasn’t telling you why she was sad “It’s not nothing. You’re upset, I want to know what is wrong Robin. This isn’t like you, you’re my best friend and I-”

She cut you off “Thats it Y/N, I’m your best friend, but I don’t want to be your best friend” She said turning back towards you. Your heart sank as the words fell from her mouth. You could feel the immediate lump forming in your throat, maybe you had been too forward with the hints. Maybe she thought you were some sort of freak lesbian, and wanted nothing to do with you. “I want to be everything to you Y/N. Because that is what you are to me, I want to be able to hug you, touch you, and say everything I have been wanting to say for so long. My world has revolved around you since Mrs. Clicks class sophomore year, and after last summer you have made my life so much better. Everytime I’m around you it’s like the world stops spinning and all the noise in my head goes away. I’m sorry I was upset but it's so hard to hear you say that about me when I know you don’t mean it the way I want you to mean it. I want you to call me pretty the way a boy calls a girl pretty and I'm sorry if I am totally ruining everything right now but-”

“Robin.” You cut her off. Your heart was beating out of your chest with pure unfiltered happiness. You stood to walk over to her

“Yeah?” She choked out nervously

“Stop talking” You said before cupping her face and kissing her.

The kiss was full of emotion and passion, it was like you both had been waiting your whole lives for this moment and honestly you were. After a few moments you pulled away from each other, resting your forehead on hers.

“Woah” She said, looking at you shocked.

“I told you I was being serious” You giggled.

#stranger things x reader #stranger things #robin buckley x reader #robin buckley #steve harrington #robin buckley x you #robin buckley x fem!reader

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denimbex1986 · 5 months

Text

'Saving Kylie Minogue from a bridge was not in Colum Sanson-Regan's plans when he turned up as a Doctor Who extra.

But David Tennant was not around, so someone had to do it, and producers thought Colum looked like the doctor.

"I've saved Kylie, flown the Tardis, held the screwdriver and had Billie Piper look deep into my eyes and tell me how much she loved me," joked Colum.

"I asked the producer 'Why am I putting on the doctor's suit? They replied 'Well, David Tennant isn't in'.

Now a father of two, Colum was earning some extra cash before his first child was born.

"I didn't know what was going on," recalled Colum of when he arrived on the set but was ushered past the "cold bus" where the extras usually hang around and was shown to a posh trailer.

The 10th Doctor had to leave the set for the 2007 Christmas special Voyage of the Damned, and producers needed a Tennant-alike for some extra shots showing his back.

So they improvised and Colum, then 31, stepped in to the suit synonymous with the Doctor since the world's longest running sci-fi TV show rebooted on the BBC in 2005.

Colum, now 46, had been asked by producers to be on set early but he had no inkling that his time (lord) had come.

"All of a sudden I was standing with the suit there, and I was handed a script and told 'You're gonna need this'," recalled Colum. "I was thinking pinch me, what's going on?

"Then I went for a haircut and a little Australian lady passed me dressed in a French maid outfit and said hello. I did a double take and realised I was there with Kylie Minogue."

The Australian singer and actor was a Doctor Who superfan and had asked for a part, which was humanoid waitress Astrid Peth, a one-off companion of the doctor.

"I was a bit star struck, for sure," he admitted.

His first work in Voyage of the Damned - where a starship replica of the Titanic is on collision course with Earth - was an action-packed scene where killer robot angels launched a deadly attack.

"There was a bridge, and the killer robot angels were trying to shoot, so I had to stop Kylie from falling over," recalled Colum.

"I had to hang on to her and pull her back from a precipice. That was the first thing I had to do in the morning."

The author and musician had a gig with his band that weekend in Leicester. As Kylie almost sang, he couldn't get it out of his head that he had worked with her - and we should all be so lucky.

"We got in the car and I said to my bandmates, guess who I've been working with this week?" said Colum, who lives near Cardiff.

"We'd been driving for almost two hours and had nearly hit Birmingham and they still hadn't guessed. I had to tell them! They're like 'absolutely no way'. It was so bizarre."

To Colum's pleasant surprise, producers were so happy with his work and lookalike skills, they asked him to play the Doctor again in the 2008 episode Journey's End - this time as his clone in the final episode of the fourth series.

That meant he had to be in the same scenes with Tennant, Billie Piper, John Barrowman and Catherine Tate, making her final appearance as a regular.

"I got to fly the Tardis in Journey's End," recalled Colum, who is originally from the Republic of Ireland.

"Everybody was gathered around the central console of the Tardis. We all had to have our hands on the machine and flying controls. Everybody was on that episode. There was a real buzz.

"I got to hold the screwdriver - they were very protective and kept taking it off me."

Colum was then involved in an emotional scene where Rose Tyler, played by Piper, had to say her final goodbyes to the doctor.

"It was an amazing and surreal experience.

"The nicest thing I have to take away was getting to work near David Tennant. I loved it. He was a thoroughly lovely, lovely guy and so professional. I think that was my favourite thing about the whole crazy time."

This weekend sees Tennant and Tate back together for Doctor Who, reprising their roles as the Doctor and Donna Noble in The Star Beast on BBC One on Saturday evening - but Colum will be back on his sofa with his family at home.

Husband to Kerry, singer and guitarist of band Goose, a creative writing lecturer and author of books like The Fly Guy, The Tall Owl and Other Stories, Colum has limited time for more extra work - especially after having his own trailer as the doctor's double.

"I'm looking forward to the show on Saturday with the return of some fantastic actors," added Colum.

"As a fan, working on the show was incredible and it's only strengthened my love for Doctor Who."'

#Doctor Who #Voyage of the Damned #60th Anniversary #Kylie Minogue #David Tennant #Billie Piper #Rose Tyler #Journey's End #Colum Sanson-Regan #Astrid Peth #John Barrowman #Jack Harkness #Catherine Tate #Donna Noble #The Fly Guy #The Tall Owl and Other Stories

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foreverrandomwritings · 11 months

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OMG congratulations!! I'll try to contain myself but be prepared for a few of these at least!

starting strong, skinny dipping even though it's much too cold w/ my love Phoenix

What's In The Honeymoon?- Part 5/5

Summary: This is my last installment in my short series "What's in the Envelope/Box/Plane/Vows?". This can be read as a stand alone however. I think it's fitting that @sylviebell was the one to give me the idea for the first part of the series as well as the last.

ALSO HAPPY FUCKING BIRTHDAY SYLVIE💜

Thank you for being such an absolutely radical person and my favorite fellow Phoenix girlie💜

Pairing: Natasha "Phoenix" Trace x afab!Reader

Warnings: Anxiety, alcohol, smut, MINORS DNI 18+, one swear word, public nudity and that's it.

Word count: 1940

Masterlist M's Hundred Celly Masterlist Series Masterlist

Landing in Porto was a huge relief. You had never taken such a long flight before. Your Wife had reassured you throughout the whole thing that she was going to be right there the whole time. She limited her bathroom breaks to make sure she was with you as much as possible to soothe your anxieties. She told you about how exciting it would be once you landed and got to start your fiveish day-long honeymoon.

You had both gone back and forth over where you wanted the honeymoon to take place until you decided on the slow paced city of Portugal. Natasha had found an airbnb overlooking the beach. The sites you had checked told you of the beautiful beach, the amazing culture and tasteful wineries.

You hadn’t had a problem getting to your residency for the week. The cab ride over was spent staring out the windows. Occasionally one of you would mention something you saw and might like to do. Natasha made a list on her phone so you could go and look back at it later on. The both of you took the night to enjoy dinner at a beautiful restaurant before walking along the beach.

As the night got colder you convinced your wife to get back to the airbnb. She was quick to agree when you told her what you were wearing under your clothes. She all but dragged you down the beach as your laughter filled the night air. She never failed to make you feel amazing.

The first full day there was spent going out shopping to grab some souvenirs for yourselves and all the people back home. Then you went to a local market for food for the week. A winery made its way into your plans as you passed it. Noting it in the list to go back later after taking your food back. You spent hours at the beach before finally heading to the winery for dinner and a tasting.

You enjoyed the night spent listening to the live band sipping on the different wines. Natasha had convinced you to dance with her at some point. You both swirled and twirled across the makeshift dance floor with the other couples both young and old. As a slow song came on she wrapped you in her arms and hummed along to the melody. You would never get sick of the feeling of being so close to her.

The next morning you were awoken to the smell of breakfast and coffee. You got up pulling on a shirt from the floor before padding out to the kitchen. You saw your wife standing at the stove flipping a piece of french toast in a pan before moving to cut up some fruit. You wrapped your arms around her middle resting your head against her shirt covered back. You both hummed at the contact with one another.

Breakfast went quickly as you had barely been able to keep your hands off of her. She had moaned as you swiped your thumb across the corner of her lip gathering some whipped cream that had missed her mouth. You sucked your thumb into your own mouth licking the cream off of it. Your eyes remained on hers at the action and she was quickly throwing you over her shoulder and taking you to bed. She grabbed the can of whipped cream and bowl of strawberries that were sitting on the table as she went.

“We’re gonna have some fun.” she said as she gently placed you on the bed. Your eyes lit up as you spotted the food in her hand. She tugged your shirt off your body before requesting you to lay down. Then she got to work dragging a berry across your skin and lapping up the sticky juices with her tongue. She had you writhing beneath her as she circled your nipples with the fruit. The cold sensation making your nipples harden even more than they already were. As the teasing continued you begged her to touch you. She replied by popping a berry into your mouth. You chewed it slowly as you saw her leaving a line of whipped cream from in between your breasts down towards your cunt stopping right before it.

You shuddered as she licked from the bottom of the line up towards your breasts. You connected your lips to hers the flavors of strawberry and whipped cream clashing together as your tongues fought for dominance. Her’s won as it usually did. You slipped your hands under her shirt grasping at her breasts kneading them in your palms. She ground her hips down at the action moaning into your mouth.

“Want you to sit on my face.” you begged her as you pulled back for air.

“Is that what you want, baby girl?” she asked you teasingly as she ran a finger between your breasts.

“Please, sweetheart. I really want to taste you.” you begged her again as the thought of her slick on your tongue blurred your mind. She seemed satisfied with that because she was working her way up your body before she was hovering above your face. You pulled her down brushing your nose across her clit briefly.

Then you were devouring her. You lapped at her hungrily, desperate to pull an orgasm from her. Your legs were clenching together tightly looking for friction. She moaned loudly and slipped her fingers into your hair. She started rocking her hips against your face languidly as her orgasm quickly approached her. She had never been with anyone before that could get her to the edge so quickly.

“You’re taking such good care of me. My beautiful, devoted Wife.” the praise had you moaning into her cunt, your cunt dripping onto the sheets below you. She clenched around your tongue as it harshly darted inside her. Her hand that wasn’t in your hair came up to toy with her nipple as she teetered on the presipe of ecstasy. Her head was thrown back as her orgasm waved through her. She slowed her hips until they were completely still. She climbed off you carefully, a groaning leaving her chest as she saw the evidence of her climax coating your face. You gave her a pleased grin as you licked your lips. You wanted to taste every last drop of her.

“My turn.” she said simply before she worked your legs open and ran a finger along your folds. She circled over your clit with that same finger once before she was following it with her tongue. Where your tongue was frenzied and sloppy hers was slow and precise.

She licked at you calmly, wanting to drag out your orgasm. You were already close and she knew that. One of your biggest turn ons was having her cum as she rode your face. So she knew that you were likely to cum within a couple of minutes. But she wanted to try to prolong it slightly.

Your left leg came up to rest against her back nudging her impossibly closer to your cunt. You moaned as she lightly sucked your clit between her lips. She was addicted to the way you sounded.

“Sweetheart.” you breathless moaned into the air, turning your head to try and dig into the pillow.

She looked up at you from her spot between your legs. She could see your hardened nipples and the way you were struggling to hold back your orgasm. But you knew better than to cum without her permission. She tested you though as she sucked on your clit again. Your other leg came up to squeeze against her head. That was the last sign she needed to know you were right where she wanted you.

As she gave your leg a squeeze with her hand you came undone. That rubberband of tension snapping as your hands gripped at the sheets and your toes curled. You let out a whine as she continued to lick and suck at your clit. As she pulled back she took in the sight of you laying on the bed. The image was something she wanted to ingrain in her mind for eternity. The rest of the day was spent giving each other countless orgasms until neither of you could move much.

Thursday was your only pre planned day there. Going out on a boat to look for whales and dolphins and such. You had at one point stopped to participate in scuba diving. You took in the sight of life under the water. You spent the night indoors eating pasta that you had made for dinner, drinking a couple of glasses of wine. Before the night ended in your tangled up bodies in the sheets once again. The bliss of being newlyweds was all consuming.

Friday was your last full day there and you had decided to make the most of it. You spent your time crossing off things from your list. Sightseeing a few local places, eating at restaurants that caught your eye, going shopping along the vendor strip. You stopped and danced here and there when there was someone playing an instrument in the streets. As the sun began to set on the water you found yourselves sitting in the sand.

The night had started to become cold and you were close to asking Natasha to go back to the house until she abruptly stood up. You looked at her questioningly. The look she had in her eyes was one of mischief and you knew nothing good was to come of it.

“What do you want to do?” you asked her accusingly.

“I want to go swimming.” She said with a toothy grin.

“Nat we don’t even have our swimsuits on or any towels.” You said as you shook your head.

“Let's go skinny dipping.” You could hear the excitement in her voice. You groaned at the idea of getting out of your sweater and jeans to slip into the cold water.

“No fucking way am I getting into that water right now. It’s way too cold out.” You told her sternly.

“Please baby girl. I promise we can get out if it gets too cold. Plus there’s no one around right now so this is the perfect time.” glancing around the beach you saw that she was right. There wasn’t a person in sight.

“Fine.” you said as you stood up and started stripping your clothes off. She did the same as she squealed in excitement.

Then you were running into the water, not wanting anyone to see you naked. You wrapped your arms around your wife as you both went neck deep into the water. Your naked bodies slid against each other as the cold water chilled your form. But Natasha looked happy so you dealt with it. You decided to stare up at the sky taking in the stars and the moon.

“Are you ready to get out baby girl?” Natasha’s voice cut through the silence of the night. You hadn’t realized your teeth were slightly chattering until she spoke.

“Yes please.” you told her and she was holding your hand leading you back to shore. The both of you got dressed quickly before slowly walking back to the house hand in hand. As you laid in bed that night freshly showered you thought about the future you had to look forward to with the brunette laid beside you. Even though you were sad for your time in the country to be brought to a close you couldn’t wait to get back home and make a lifetime of memories with her.

A/N: A litte bittersweet to see the end of baby girl and sweetheart. But so happy to have finished this series, mark off something from my hundred celly and complete my first full week of posting something everyday for my pride month celly. Thank you so much @sylviebell for this ask and all the support you give me!

Tags(open): @wkndwlff @eternallyvenus

#natasha trace x reader #natasha phoenix trace x reader #phoenix x reader #top gun maverick imagine #natasha phoenix trace series #natasha trace series #natasha trace oneshot #natasha phoenix trace oneshot #natasha trace imagines #natasha phoenix trace smut #phoenix smut #smut #m's hundred celly #m's pride month celebration

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lemoncrushh · 20 days

Text

The Entertainer - Track 03 - Pick a Memory

Summary: Set in the 70s, Sky Jones, a young woman from L.A., meets Harry Styles, an up-and-coming musician and frontman for the band Wildfire. Told in first person from Sky’s point of view, she shares her journey and what it’s like to fall for a rockstar.

STORY PAGE

Track 03 Word Count: 3.1k

Halo had a shift at the bookstore where she worked, but I was off so I was glad to have the apartment to myself for one afternoon. I was in my room practicing a Joni Mitchell song on guitar when the doorbell rang. I opened the door just enough to peek through the crack, the chain still on it.

“Hi,” he said hesitantly.

“Hi.”

Harry dropped his head, then looked back up at me.

“Can I come in?”

“I guess.”

I shut the door and removed the chain before reopening it and stepping back for Harry to enter. I noticed his eyes were no longer bloodshot, and his hair was wet like he’d just taken a shower. When I closed the door behind him, I got a big whiff. Yep, definitely a shower.

I followed him into the living room where he stopped next to the sofa but didn’t sit down. Instead he turned to face me, his voice still low and gravely.

“I’m sorry.”

I scratched a nonexistent itch on my arm. “Yeah, you mentioned that in your note. But what exactly are you sorry for?”

Harry dropped his shoulders and ran a hand through his hair. “Can I explain?”

I nodded, gesturing toward the couch. Harry sat down and I followed, though I made it a point to remain on the opposite end. I watched as he swallowed hard, wringing his hands nervously.

“Something happened last night.”

I wanted to make some snide remark, but I didn’t. I bit my tongue, deciding to hear him out.

“I um…after you’d left The Troubadour, someone came up to me. He claimed he was a manager and wanted to represent Wildfire. Even though we already have a manager, I agreed to have a chat with him. We sat at the bar and he bought me a drink. I was kinda feeling the effects of the show, you know? I was on this natural high, but my head was pounding, I suppose from the adrenaline. So this bloke offered me some pills. I swear, I thought they were just for a headache.”

“You took strange pills from a strange man?”

Harry groaned. “I know, it sounds ludicrous. But I had a headache and I thought they were aspirin or something.”

“What were they?”

“I dunno exactly. Probably some sort of hallucinogen like PCP. I started feeling dizzy and told the bloke I had to go. He said something about giving me a ride and for some reason I took it. He drove me here. I honestly can’t even remember giving him the address, and I dunno how I remembered it.”

“Do you even know who this guy was?” I asked.

Harry shrugged. “I think his name was French. For some reason that sticks in my mind.”

“You mean he had a French name, or his actual name was French?”

“His name was French. His last name.”

“But you’d never heard of him before?”

“No.”

“That’s…scary.”

“I know.”

“What if you hadn’t made it here, Harry? What if something worse had happened?”

“It did.”

I glared at him. “Huh?”

Harry looked down at his hands and twisted one of the rings on his finger.

“I was horrible to you,” he mumbled.

I swallowed hard and traced a pattern on the sofa.

“I don’t remember most of it, Sky. But I remember being a jerk, and you didn’t deserve that. You have to believe me when I say that wasn’t me.”

I nodded slowly. “I knew it wasn’t. You frightened me.”

Harry shifted on the couch to face me. “I’m so sorry. I don’t…I don’t do drugs like that. I don’t like not being in control. And I was completely out of control.”

I chewed my bottom lip and sat up straight. He hadn’t mentioned Simon, and I didn’t bring up his name. I wasn’t sure if he wanted me to know about that, and figured he would tell me if he wanted to.

“Apology accepted.”

Harry sighed. “Good. So…what exactly did I do?”

“You know what?” I raised my hands. “Let’s just…forget about it.”

“Alright.”

“Would you like something to drink?” I rose from the sofa.

Harry grimaced, touching his stomach. “Um…maybe just a glass of water.”

“Okay.”

I hadn’t expected Harry to follow me into the kitchen. He stood at the end of the counter, watching me fill two glasses, before handing him one.

“I do remember one thing,” said Harry after he’d emptied his glass.

Oh, no. “What’s that?”

“Your eyes.”

I felt myself start to smile, but I pursed my lips together. “What about them?”

“Um…something to do with…rain clouds.”

“Hmm.”

I averted my gaze, focusing on my glass of water as though it was the best thing I’d ever drunk in my life. Then I set the empty glass on the counter and released a deep breath.

“Sky?”

“Yes?”

“Are you ever gonna tell me your real name?”

I chuckled and shook my head. “Nope.”

“Why not?”

“It’s not important.”

“What is important then?”

I shrugged. “Music.”

“What about people?”

“Yes. Some people.”

“I wanna know more about you, Sky.”

I blinked and looked up at him. “What do you wanna know? Besides my name?”

“Why do you always wear that locket?” he pointed at the gold pendant that hung from my neck.

“Why do you always wear that cross?”

“I asked you first.”

I sighed and looked down at the necklace, fingering it for a moment before I opened the clasp.

“It’s my brother,” I said as I watched Harry’s boots when he took a step closer.

“Your brother?”

I lifted my eyes, not quite meeting his. He took the locket from my hand, cupping it gently in his own, then looked up at me questioningly.

“He died in Vietnam.”

Harry inspected the tiny photo for a while before clearing his throat.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled.

“Thanks.” I closed the locket, making Harry’s hand fall to his side, though his face was still inches from mine.

“But why?”

“Why what?”

“Why do you wear it?”

“That’s a stupid thing to ask,” I spat.

Harry shook his head. “No, it’s not. It’s a genuine question. I know why you have a picture of your brother in a locket. That makes sense. But why do you wear it everyday? All the time?”

I considered his question for a while, first wanting to yell at him that he didn’t know what the fuck he was talking about and he had some nerve. Then I thought about his words, really let them roll around in my brain. He was right. I wore it all the time. I never took it off actually, except to shower. My chest shook as the answer came to me.

“It’s been eight years,” I said softly. “He would’ve been turning thirty this year. I guess…I guess I just don’t want to forget him.”

Harry bit his bottom lip and nodded, an unspoken understanding.

“Do I get another question?” he inquired.

I smiled. “I guess so.”

“When I came to your door earlier, I could hear a guitar and singing. Was that you?”

I blushed. “Yeah.”

“It was lovely. Will you play something for me?”

“I’m not that good.”

“Please?”

I took in his expression, his eyes kind and encouraging.

“C’mon,” I said, walking toward my bedroom.

I grabbed my guitar which I’d left on the bed and slung the strap over my head.

“What would you like me to play?”

“The song you were playing before.”

“Okay…but it’s still a work in progress.”

Harry merely grinned and sat on the bed. Then he held his hand out.

“Let’s hear it.”

I nervously began to strum the chords, then took a breath to begin singing, hoping to God my voice wouldn’t crack.

“Rows and flows of angel hair And ice cream castles in the air And feather canyons everywhere I’ve looked at clouds that way But now they only block the sun They rain and snow on everyone So many things I would have done But clouds got in my way”

Harry continued to watch me as I sang and strummed, his lips spreading into a winning smile that made me weak in the knees. I had to keep my mind on the chords and the lyrics I was singing, and not the way he was making me feel, but I admit it was difficult. Why did he have to look like that?

When I reached the last chorus, I had to look away, so I pretended like I was singing to Robert Plant on the poster behind him.

“I’ve looked at life from both sides now From win and lose and still somehow It’s life’s illusions I recall I really don’t know life at all”

Harry rose from the bed and applauded when I finished, although I knew I had messed up a couple of times.

“Beautiful,” he announced.

“Thank you.” I removed the guitar and set it in its spot, my cheeks a rosy pink.

“I like your voice.”

“I like Joni’s,” I commented. I wasn’t very good at accepting compliments. “She’s probably my favorite. I love her songs.”

“She writes some good ones,” Harry agreed.

“What’s your favorite song?”

“Favorite song? Ever?”

“Yes,” I nodded, walking over to the turntable.

Harry shook his head. “That’s impossible. I can’t choose one favorite.”

“Why not?”

“Because…music isn’t about picking favorites. Songs…they’re memories.”

I blinked as I turned around, looking at him standing there next to my bed, the glow of the lamp underneath the orange scarf casting a shadow on the wall behind him.

“What do you mean?”

Harry swallowed. “Well…like, pick a memory.”

“Of when?”

“Anytime. Childhood. A memory of Halo.” His eyebrows wiggled as he grinned. “Of Comet.”

I smiled. “I have great memories of running and playing with Comet in Halo’s backyard.”

“See? Now put a song with it.”

I thought for a moment until a giggle escaped my throat.

“I used to want to be in a girl group. Like The Crystals or The Ronettes. I would sing their songs a lot as a kid, and I have a memory of performing a solo of ‘He’s A Rebel’ for Comet.”

Harry chuckled. “Perfect. Great memory, innit?”

“Yeah.” I looked down at my feet. “But not all memories are good.”

“But if you put a song with it, it is. Even if it makes you weep, Sky. It’s a good thing.”

I raised my head and smirked. “Didn’t know you were so deep.”

“‘m not. Just love music, like you.”

Harry hopped onto my bed like some young boy defying the laws of gravity and proceeded to remove his boots. I watched as he stretched out his long limbs and laid down on my pile of pillows.

“You’re right,” I admitted.

“About what, love?”

“Songs being memories. Even if they make you cry.”

“Mmhm.” Harry closed his eyes and put his arm behind his head.

“‘Daydream Believer’ does that to me.”

Harry popped open one eye. “The Monkees?”

I bit my lip and nodded. “Came out the year my brother died.”

“Oh. But that’s sort of a happy song.”

“I know. I think that’s why it made me cry. My world had just crumbled and Davy Jones was telling me to cheer up. I couldn’t listen to it for a long time.”

I stared at Harry as he rolled over onto his side and stared me right back. I half suspected him to laugh at me, but he didn’t.

“I’m sorry. I understand,” he said instead.

I sighed. “It’s okay now. It’s actually become one of my favorites. I like to think of it as my brother’s way of telling me I was gonna be okay.”

Harry blinked slowly with a nod, then laid back on the pillow. I got an idea and grabbed my smaller stack of 45s, not nearly as impressive as my LP collection. When Davy’s voice sounded, I saw the dimple dip in Harry’s cheek.

“Oh I could hide ‘neath the wings Of the bluebird as she sings The six o’clock alarm would never ring…”

I started to giggle as Harry swayed back and forth on my bed, his eyes still shut, a happy boyish grin on his face.

“Cheer up sleepy Jean…”

Harry popped his eyes open then and sang along with me. Then he sat up, grabbing the tambourine on my nightstand and hitting it against his palm. By the end of the song, I was prancing across my rug to Harry’s percussion.

“Confession,” I beamed, my cheeks already sore from laughing, “a year or so later, I developed an obsession with not only Davy Jones, but all male British singers.”

Harry winked at me. “But of course.”

I blushed.

“The real question is,” Harry said when the record had stopped and he returned my tambourine to its spot on my bedside table, “were you a Homecoming Queen?”

I shook my head hard, making my long hair fan out.

“Not even close.”

“That’s a shame. Why not?”

I shrugged, making a sound similar to “I don’t know,” though my mouth was still shut. “I was never nominated.”

“What would you have to do to be nominated?”

“Be pretty,” I mumbled.

“Well then, you should’ve won.”

Though my smile grew slowly, I couldn’t stop it. My chest heaved like I’d just run a marathon, and inside I could feel a million butterflies fluttering at once.

“Keep the records going, if you like,” Harry gestured to the turntable. “I’m enjoying it.”

“Okay.”

I turned back to my stack of 45s, hesitating when I pulled out the Buddy Holly record. Deciding I wanted to hear it, I placed it on the record player and dropped the needle. When I looked back at Harry, he was lying on his side again, his head propped up in his hand. He raised his brows as the music began to play, obviously surprised by my choice.

“Just you know why Why you and I Will bye and bye Know true love ways”

I couldn’t move. I stood in one spot in the corner of my room as Harry rose from the bed, seemingly in slow motion. Only my chest betrayed me, giving away my nerves and anticipation with each heavy breath as Harry walked towards me. Stopping in front of me, he towered over me like a tree, even without his boots. I stared at his chest, noticing for the first time how tall he was, until he gently lifted my hand, threading his fingers through mine. Then with his other hand, he clipped my chin to look at him before sliding it around my waist.

“Sometimes we’ll sigh Sometimes we’ll cry”

Harry and I swayed as the sound of the strings filled our ears. I hadn’t slow danced since the prom. He turned me around, his eyes never leaving mine. I wouldn’t have been able to look away anyway, even if I’d tried. Harry had a magical quality about him, not just on stage I realized. He was something special. Something beautiful.

I wanted him to kiss me. But I think even if he hadn’t, I would have been okay with it. I wanted to tell him how the song reminded me of my youth, of taking trips to the beach with my family and evening picnics and parties with my parents’ friends and making fun of my brother and his girlfriend when I caught them making out. But none of that mattered now. I was making my own memory.

“Throughout the days Our true love ways Will bring us joys to share With those who really care”

He kissed me softly at first, sending a chill through my entire body. My eyes fluttered open to see his face, his eyelids heavy, still focused on my mouth. He lifted his hand and dragged his thumb across my bottom lip before kissing me again, pulling me closer. I released my hand from his and brought it to his shoulder and around his neck. I felt him sigh as he kissed me deeper, his tongue meeting mine. Then he turned me around once more, guiding me backwards to the bed where he laid me down.

“Sometimes we’ll sigh Sometimes we’ll cry And we’ll know why Just you and I Know true love ways”

The record stopped, but not the music in my head. We kissed for a long time, creating a melody of our own. Harry’s hands slid up my sides, one stopping at my breast, the other continuing to my neck where he cradled my head, his fingers in my hair. He settled his body between my legs, igniting the heat that was already apparent.

Suddenly, I heard a noise, followed by a voice bellowing my name.

“Sky! Lemme in! You have the chain on!”

“Oh, shit,” I cursed.

Harry laughed and sat up. I followed, straightening my shirt before heading for the door.

“Sorry,” I whispered.

“’s alright,” he smirked, and I was pretty sure I caught a twinkle in his eye.

“Hey,” I greeted Halo when I unlatched the lock.

“What the hell, Sky? Since when do you put the chain on?”

Halo pushed past me to set a few bags on the table.

“Since forever. But I usually take it off before you get home. Just…forgot.”

“Well, I brought food,” she pointed as she went to the kitchen to get something to drink. “I thought we could eat and then you could help me with…”

It was then that she finally spotted Harry, standing just outside my doorway.

“Oh. Hi, Harry…” she furrowed her brows. “Mitch didn’t tell me you guys were coming.”

“Ah, no,” he scratched the back of his head. “Just me. I came to…talk to Sky.”

“He came to talk to me,” I echoed.

“Oh….oh!” Halo sounded, realization finally hitting her.

I heard Harry chuckle behind me. I turned slightly to catching his dimple as he smiled at his feet, which I noticed now had his boots returned to them.

“I should…probably…” Harry pointed at the front door, “…go.”

“Oh. Okay.” I didn’t bother to hide my disappointment.

I followed him to the door and told him goodbye. When I shut it behind him and leaned against it, however, I immediately opened it again.

“Harry!” I called, even though he had only just made it to the top of the landing.

“Yeah?”

Smiling, I closed the door and jogged up to him.

“Thank you.”

He smiled back. “What for?”

“For today.”

Standing on my tiptoes, I reached for his face and kissed him on the mouth. His grin widened as he gazed down at me.

“You’re welcome, darling.”

He kissed me again before turning for the stairs. I watched him descend until he’d reached the bottom and waved up at me. Then I went back inside to a very curious Halo.

Songs mentioned:

Joni Mitchell - Both Sides Now

The Crystals - He's a Rebel

The Monkees - Daydream Believer

Buddy Holly - True Love Ways

If you enjoyed, please like, reblog, comment and consider following me if you aren't already :) xo

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brae-brae · 4 months

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I speak Italian Darling

This is part one of something I've been working on. this is my first post on here so please don't judge:))

Gia Iseppa De Luca. the only daughter of an immigrant mother and sister to 6 boys, one of which is in prison, which isn't exactly smooth sailing. Ive lived in the sunshine state most of my life. That is until the end of last school year. My parents had the bright idea, "Oh let's move from Florida to Massachusetts! WHO NEEDS SUMMER BREAK WHEN YOU CAN MOVE STATES AWAY! It's not like we could have just stayed there after we had our 4th kid and just bought a bigger house which we obviously could afford if we moved to FLORIDA! Oh how smart we are." Yea no. Not to mention just when I think I have this 16 year old girl shit down with making friends and fitting in, they throw 2 boys into my house for A WHOLE MONTH?! Whatever summer I have left, I better enjoy. I will be blaming my parents.

Sinceramente tuo, il pasticcio adolescenziale

P.S. I speak Italian Darling

As I got out of my shower I heard my mom welcoming some guests. “Hey, boys! Hey Susan and Frank, how have you been? David and I..” I walked into my room, cutting out their convo. I turned on Spotify on my TV, blasting The Great Escape by Boys Like Girls while I got ready to go to Kristi’s house. As I threw on my sweats and plain black bra, I heard my door open and my mom’s voice. “This is Gia’s room, the boys are at their clubs and whatnot right now. Oh, dear! I didn’t realize you were getting dressed!” My mom quickly shut the door. Before she closed it, I caught a glimpse of a black-haired boy with eyeliner, looking at his phone with headphones in. “Dio, mamma! Impara a bussare! Gesù!” I yelled through the door. I quickly put on a plain black shirt with the band name KORN, putting my unruly curly hair in a low-effort ponytail. I put on some mascara, eyeliner, and highlighter and grabbed my guitar bag, phone, vape, and AirPods. I walked out with my things in hand, jogging down the stairs. When I got to the door, I looked over at Mom catching her attention. “Hey, I’m heading to Kristi’s. I’ll be back later. Love you!” She made a huff before stopping me. “First I want you to meet the guests. These are the Heffley’s!”

I looked over at them. Normal, basic-looking people. Then I realized the older boy was staring at me. I thought I grew a 3rd eye or something. Honestly, it was getting a bit awkward. Before I could dwell on it anymore, the mom chimed in. “Hey Gia! Oh my goodness, I haven’t seen you since you were as big as Manny!” she said lifting the little boy in her arms. I straightened my lips into a line and looked out at my car in the driveway.

“Wish I could say I remember you..” I said looking at my feet. “Gia Iseppa De Luca-Void! That was rude!” I threw my hands up in the air, “Hey I! I wasn’t trying to be, I just don’t know who she is!” I told her. I looked at the dad and the boys, the older one not having moved an inch. “Oh well, the last time I saw you, you and Rodrick were only about 3.” my mom quickly gaped,” Oh Susan, do you remember when they would take cute little baths together? Oh, I miss those days..” my mom said holding where her heart should be.

“Ma! Really? What the hell?!” Her face hardened. “Iseppa! Watch the language! Ci sono piccole orecchie per sentire! Continua così e passerai il fine settimana qui. Capire?” I rolled my eyes. “Sì, capisco, mamma…” I mumbled, “Kristi is texting me, can I go now?” my mom rolled her eyes. “Introductions, then yes.” I put down my guitar and walked up to the family. “I’m Susan, as you might have guessed, this is Frank, Manny, and these are-” the smaller one walked up to me taking my hand. “bonjour beauté..” I looked at him questioningly. “I speak Italian. Not french,” I smiled. He blushed and dropped my hand. I turned to the other boy and looked up at him, his eyes following me.

3rd POV:

Earlier

As the Heffleys arrived at the house, Rodrick put his headphones in and texted Bill. They started planning when our next band practice could be. He wasnt paying attention as he made his way up the stairs, causing him to step on Greg’s shoes. “Hey! Watch it bigfoot!” Greg snapped back, which only made Rodrick do it purposefully. “Mom, why do we even have to be babysat? We learned not to throw parties! Promise!” Susan turned to them quickly. “No, you learned how to be sneaky, not responsibility. So you are staying here. There are other boys here, you'll be fine. Your father and I need this, so please. Behave.” Greg looked at his shoes and Rodrick, well, rolled his eyes, popping his earbuds back in. He didnt even notice the half naked girl that was just walked in on.

As they stood in the dining room, Rodrick felt a light poke on his side. He ignored it, only to be poked again. He looked at Greg who was pointing at something. Rodrick looked up and locked eyes on her. His breath stopped and his hands instantly got warm and sweaty. Even his loud music went silent. He saw her lips moving but he couldn't focus on what she was saying, only how her lips moved and how her pale green eyes popped against the dark colors around them. Small strands of hair escaped her ponytail that hung against her back, bouncing with every step she took closer. Wait, is she walking over here? Well no shit, we are the only ones over here she could be walking towards. Think Rodrick, fuck. His eyes never left her, especially when she inched closer and closer at him.

He didn’t even realize she had said something until she looked at him and stopped talking for a moment. “Huh?” was all he could muster. He internally punched himself at his stupidity. Now is not the time to be dumb, get it together! “I said, do you want some water? Your mouth seems a little… Dry..” she grinned and looked at his lips. He closed his mouth and shook his head, maybe a little more than he should have. She looked back at his eyes and spoke. “I’m going to assume you’re Rodrick. My bathing buddy?” my heart stopped. “W-What?” he asked rather fearfully. She tried to suppress her smile and looked at him, probably noticing how nervous he became at her words. “Mom was saying that we used to take baths together when we were babies.” The thought of them taking a bath together when they were babies made Rodrick cringe, but then another thought ran across his mind. A more present one, one that made him blush and wouldn't let him get words out. “Anyway, Ciao! A dopo, mamma, Papà!” with that she walked out, guitar in hand. Oh hell. This girl is gonna be the death of me.

“I'll show you boys to your rooms!” Julieta announced.

Well shit.

#rodrick heffley smut #grunge #rodrick heffley x oc

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lulucutie2nitexd · 6 days

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A little birdie told me you're writing for Fundamental paper education. What's your head cannons for every teacher?

Oooo yay

Keeping this one basic because I'm tired

Miss Circle

She specializes in geometry teacher (hc from her compass)

She hates being called a cat because her demon horns

She's really curious about Miss Grace and Miss Sasha

Miss Bloomie

She definitely likes sandwiches imo, she just looks like she packs a sandwich for lunch daily

She's the kid who was like "uhm actually" in school especially during science classes

She looks like she would be bipolar about affection. One moment she wants to be held and the next she's going to explode if you touch her.

Miss Grace

She can't decide how she feels about Miss Circle a lot of the time. She feels uneasy about her imo

I can see her hanging out with Miss Emily, Miss Sasha and sometimes Mister Demi at lunch

She canonically doesn't talk much but I feel like if you pissed her off you'd get more then just a few words

Miss Sasha

Really really really hard to anger, she's really good at keeping her cool is the way I see her.

I can see her definitely babysitting for some extra money during break occasionally.

Probably has nieces and nephews she loves to visit

Miss Emily

Her dress reminds me of 1950's France so I hc that she might have a French parent or be from France

She definitely has a garden or something, she'd garden to take stress off of herself

I hc that her upper body strength is weaker than a few of the others.

Miss Thavel

Probably reads Edgar Allen Poe for shits and giggles to be honest.

I also hc that she can speak many different languages and probably teaches some as electives classes

Although good friends with Miss Circle I think she also slightly fears miss circle due to her inhumane speed and strength combined with the fact she's almost 10ft tall

Mister Demi

Teaches band, marching band, concert band, and music notation. Oh and piano classes

Is that one guy who's insanely organized but it's confusingly organized and makes no sense so it doesn't look organized but it is.

Wears knee high socks because of his boots under his pants.

#miss sasha #miss circle #mister demi #miss bloomie #miss emily #miss grace #miss thavel #fpe #fundemental paper education #headcannons #fpe headcanons

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cctinsleybaxter · 4 months

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2023 in Books

I need to stop bragging that I’ve got this reading thing all figured out, because man if 2023 wasn’t a year of terrible books. I liked less than half of the 37 I read and nothing quite gripped me in the way it has in years past… but to put it more optimistically I liked a full third of what I read, and the ones I liked best were a fascinating and unexpected silver lining. Without further ado:

Cyrano de Bergerac by Edmond Rostand, trans. Brian Hooker

Tell this all to the world- and then to me. Say very softly that… she loves you not.

I read a couple of plays this year for the first time since college and liked them fine, but there’s a reason this has been adapted five million times. Everyone go watch Megamind right now.

Wylding Hall by Elizabeth Hand

Of all the found footage-inspired horror fiction I’ve read this one makes the best case for existing in its chosen medium, as a 70s UK folk rock band are interviewed about the summer they spent recording what would become their final album [thunder crashes.] It reminded me of a Tana French mystery in its language and ability to make space feel lived-in; the character writing is so strong I realized that at some point I had stopped checking the interview headings to know who was speaking. Hand unfortunately distrusts her audience to read between the lines at a few crucial moments (and ruins what would have been a perfect ending and a deeply affecting scare by gilding the lily, or, in this case, photograph), but I love that she went from seemingly by-the-numbers American YA fiction to a meticulously-researched and truly unique horror novella. Puts other writers working in the genre to shame.

A Kiss Before Dying by Ira Levin

Reminiscent of the best kind of TCM suspense thriller (and was adapted into one), but could only exist as a book for the kind of narrative tactics it employs. Levin is brilliant at setting and character; I think any one of his contemporaries would have leaned into archetypes for this sort of story, and he instead distinguishes his proper nouns in subtle, clever ways that lend them the weight a noir needs. Can’t wait to read more of his stuff!

All the Names They Used for God by Anjali Sachdeva

I’d like to know why this anthology got hit with what a friend has termed a pottery barn throw pillow cover + a ‘the tiny things we know to be small’ title, because the eponymous story isn’t even called that! It’s just The Names They Used for God, and is, appropriately, about two women kidnapped by a religious extremist group. High risk-high reward; I think taken at their base premise the stories could have been insufferable and are instead strange, compelling, and fantastical. There’s a methodicalness and, I don't know, lack of whimsy? to them that’s unusual for fantasy, but also an absence of any one goal or moral in the way Le Guin speaks so highly of. It made me feel the way I did reading and adoring Kelly Link in middle school, and Sachdeva has a much different style that I guess works all the better on adults. My favorite was Robert Greenman and the Mermaid.

Seabiscuit: An American Legend by Lauren Hillenbrand

Someone recommended this to me via Tumblr anon over five years ago, so let me start by saying if that was you I’d like to thank you properly! This book rules! It was written in ‘99 so falls prey to a very specific kind of jingoism, but the mechanics of that are interesting in and of themself. Seabiscuit the animal is a lens through which to view turn-of-the-20th-century America written from the precipice of the 21st; his story told through the expertly-researched biographies of his owner, trainer, and jockey. Hillenbrand is not only a good pop nonfiction historian, but has been a sports writer since the 80s and I never imagined the genre could be so thrilling as I did reading her work. Horse racing is insane and no one should be riding these things btw.

The Age of Innocence by Edith Wharton

It was one of the great livery-stableman’s most masterly intuitions to have discovered that Americans want to get away from amusement even more quickly than they want to get to it.

Wharton came from old money New York*, was deeply disillusioned with it and pined for rational (i.e., even more insane) social and political scenes, had myriad thoughts about women and gender relations, and held a love for interior design. I learned all of this after reading but it’s apparent on every page; deeply funny and perceptive, fantastic use of language, the moments where it lost me completely nothing if not interesting. What sticks with me the most are a flair for the operatic and an ability to voice both the feeling and consequences of losing oneself to imagined scenarios. Read the pink parasol scene.

*Ancient Money New York; the saying ‘keeping up with the Joneses’ is apocryphally attributed to her father’s side of the family

Owls of the Eastern Ice: A Quest to Find and Save the World's Largest Owl by Jonathan S. Slaght

We’d return to our camp to huddle in the freezing tent and wait for our owls in silence, like suitors agonizing over a phone that never rings.

One of the better pieces of science writing I’ve read in a long time, as Slaght frames rural communities as a quintessential part of ecology rather than a barrier to it. His style is amiable and matter-of-fact (sometimes overly so; the amount of metric GIS directions, help), but he's super engaging and clearly holds just as much compassion for people and history as he does animals and natural landscapes. The Blakiston’s fish owls he’s studying are described as unreal, with hoots so low and quiet it sounds like someone has thrown them under a blanket. You can listen to them here.

Piranesi by Susanna Clarke

Took my breath away and surprised me in a way a book hasn’t in years. I'd read Clarke’s 2004 novel when I was maybe fourteen and had vaguely positive but mostly neutral memories of it, and Piranesi being sci-fi-fantasy that came recommended by Tiktok had me very dubious. I ended up devouring it in the way I haven’t read books since I was fourteen; more of a mystery than the suspected high fantasy, with characters I would do disservice to in trying to describe in brief. While the mystery isn’t difficult to ‘solve’ (I’d argue the book also skews young!), the story ends in a way that’s both deeply unexpected and in the only way it could have.

Honorable mentions

The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexandre Dumas, trans. Peter Washington

[Jigsaw voice] Every man has a devouring passion in his heart as every fruit has its worm.

I spent so much time running my mouth about this one on Tumblr there’s really not much left to say. I think it’s a work of genius that was physically exhausting to read, and I’m sticking it with the honorable mentions mostly because I remember The Three Musketeers being the better book. If you want to read Dumas- and you should- start with that one.

Jonny Appleseed by Joshua Whitehead

I would’ve liked this more had I read it in my late teens/early 20s, but I still think it’s pretty good and would absolutely recommend to anyone in that age bracket. Things that normally annoy me about philosophical first-person lit fic didn’t matter under the weight of Jon’s narratorial voice. He reminded me a little of Lynda Barry’s Maybonne in his understanding and depictions of community and family; his stream of consciousness letting contradictions sit rather than trying to explain them away (Whitehead also makes sex very prosaic and pretty-sounding while still being frank and gross about it, which is a rare talent!)

The Seeds of Life: From Aristotle to da Vinci, from Sharks' Teeth to Frogs' Pants, the Long and Strange Quest to Discover Where Babies Come From by Edward Dolnik

This one fell in the rankings because the writing isn’t my favorite (think early days Vulture article rather than NYT), but I cannot stop referencing it in conversation. I want to read the whole thing to people and make them understand how truly unfathomable it is not only that every one of us is the product of 1 sperm and 1 egg, but that anyone ever figured out how that process works. When Western Europeans first started using microscopes they studied water; there were gross little bugs in there to watch and enjoy, so when semen was revealed to have its own bugs no one was shocked, but they also weren’t impressed. We would not see one enter an egg until EIGHTEEN SEVENTY-FIVE.

Killer Dolphin by Ngaio Marsh

The Malaise of First Night Nerves had gripped Peregrine, not tragically and aesthetically by the throat but, as is its habit, shamefully in the guts.

Has made it into my top 5 favorite Inspector Alleyn mysteries. I’m not keen on Marsh’s theater settings (and there are a LOT of them), but a convoluted setup made this one all the more rewarding. The final revelation as to a point of blackmail is visceral and bizarre in a way I haven’t seen from her before.

The Wretched of the Earth by Frantz Fanon

We all have dirty hands; we are all soiling them in the swamps of our country and in the terrifying emptiness of our brains. Every onlooker is either a coward or a traitor.

Best read in conversation with other writers, I wouldn’t recommend Fanon as the end-all-be-all introduction to communist and socialist thinking (the fact that he inadvertently describes what was going wrong with the USSR at time of writing is fascinating), but he explicitly invites that conversation and the value and impact of his work really can’t be overstated. Our points of disagreement tend to be in regard to nationalism, not his condonation of violence.

Persuasion by Jane Austen

Fascinating to see how Austen was thinking about relationships near the end of her short life. I laughed to see the idea of preferring your brother-in-law’s family to your own was back in full force from my own favorite Emma, as well as an eleventh-hour ‘maybe I should ship the villains??’ My biggest issue is that, like Emma, Persuasion is written in third person limited narration, but Anne is fundamentally Good™ so doesn’t need to learn anything about herself or the world; critic Bob Irvine points out that she and her dashing, misogynistic sailor are beset rather than changed by it. That said I love a people being beset by people (concussed temptresses) places (Bath) and things (cars), and Austen's writing style is really firing on all cylinders here.

#i say 'nothing quite gripped me' but i'm still pretty fresh off some of these so remains to be seen in the long run!#(e.g i always end up wanting to swap at least one finalist and one honorable mention looking back at last year's list)#also as always these aren't ranked- just loosely grouped by date read #books #2023

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acrossthewavesoftime · 2 months

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I was tagged by @unanchored-ship, thank you!

Favorite Ships

I am not really very much interested in classical fandom 'shipping', I have to say. I occasionally do enjoy fictional relationships in the media I consume, but I would say that 'shipping' is too big a word.

My profile picture also informs me to type out "HMS Preston" for some reason. ;-)

Last Song

Come Here, Fellow Servant, from the afterpiece play High Life Below the Stairs (1759) by James Townley. As I understand, while the words survive, the original melody did not; this is a modern arrangement of what the song may have sounded like.

The play satirises the social hierarchies of the time, with the servants belowstairs trying to mimic the dissipated manner of living of their sybaritic, back-stabbing employers. The song is sung at the servants' secret house party, to which they invite a few aristocratic types interested in the delightful novelty of having to do with commoners. The song, composed by party guest Sir Harry, is sung by Kitty, an upwardly mobile maidservant who thinks highly of herself because she received an education and speaks French.

While perhaps some of the portrayals of characters or critique of contemporary issues in the play do not withstand the test of time (Kitty's belief in her education for instance would certainly carry a positive connotation nowadays), its core message, namely that thoughtlessly emulating someone just because they're considered to be rich and famous holds up poignantly well.

Last Film

Der Bestatter - Der Film. A Swiss comedy based on a 7-season series of the same name. Luc, an ex-policeman-turned-funeral-director-turned-Costa-Rican-beach-bar-owner and his friends, the two police officers Anna Maria and Dörig, ex-apprentice and now successful goth funeral director Fabio, his quasi surrogate mother Erika and Semmelweiß, the somewhat strange coroner have to band together one last time as a holiday stay at a remote hotel to celebrate Erika's birthday is unexpectededly interrupted when the hotel director dies under highly suspicious circumstances.

I can only warmly recommend both the series and the film; not only are the murder cases Luc and his friends solve gripping and often overarching an entire season, giving the storylines ample time to develop, Der Bestatter also deals very touchingly with topics such as loss, grief, death, terminal illness and facing past mistakes while never taking itself too seriously.

Currently Reading

The Spite of Fortune by Kishandra Fulford, a biography about Louisa Carolina Colleton Graves, an 18th/19th century noblewoman with a rather eventful life story. I am reading it not so much for her as for the information on her husband's family, the Graves'. While the author evidently poured a lot of effort into the book, some of her judginess against the physical appearance of some of the people featured in her book, a total lack of foot- or endnotes and the occasional spelling and grammar mistakes sadly don't sit quite right with me. With the right editor, she could have told Louisa Carolina Colleton Graves' fascinating, and also somewhat tragic, story a lot more effectively.

Currently Craving

Spring, a new pleated skirt, and a walk. Maybe some chocolate, too.

@clove-pinks, @professorlehnsherr-almashy and @my-deer-friend, would you like to join in? If anybody else wants to share their list, consider yourself tagged by me.

#tag game #unanchored ship #r rambles

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saltygilmores · 10 months

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Thoughts While Watching Gilmore Girls- Season 2, Episode 16, "There's The Rub", aka A Sheer Masterpiece of GilmoreDom, AKA The Gilmore Geller Mariano Trio, And Everything is Right With The World Until Forrester Shows Up, Part 4

I realized I’ve been spelling Dean's last name wrong all this time (it's only one R, not two) but I'm going to keep misspelling it on purpose because it's what he fucking deserves, frankly. You can find parts 1-3 and all other episodes I've recapped in my pinned post. Leggo.

All of the purest and most heartwarming episodes & scenes are the ones that take place outside of Shit's Hollow. Emily and Lorelai at the spa. The Bangles Concert. The time the Dragonfly Inn crew+ Rory and Emily went to a drag show. That time Lane and Rory went to Madelyn & Louise's party and Lane danced with Henry. Various scenes that take place at the mall. Rory's trip to New York City to see Jess (MY FAVORITE EPISODE). The time Jess, his uncle and his stepfather took him to see some naked mud wrestling (ah, family bonding).

It does not get any better than this, people. Let us all bask in this warm, peaceful glow, the smell of french fries, the sound of gentle literary debate, the absence of Dean, Lorelai and all of the other loudmouths of Shit's Hollow, who are safely (if temporarily) contained in secondary locations. *breathes in* Ahhhhhh.

Person: Hey ThoughtsWhileWatching, what day of the week is it? Me: Idk but I will never forget the weird way Milo held this can of salt

The fact that a friendship between Paris and Jess wasn't allowed to develop past this episode, in large part due to Dean Ruins Everything Forrester, was another one of AmyShermanPalladino's high crimes she needs to answer to. (and let's not even start on how a nice little friendship based on a shared interest in music could have formed with Lane but AmyShermanPalladino decided to make Lane salty at Jess for no reason until literally the last episode before he splits from Rory. I remember a scene in a later episode where Lane tries to run away to New York to meet up with her band but when she gets there she finds she's lost and in over her head I wanted her to get in contact with Jess so badly so she could have stayed with him or he could have helped her out. Speaking of salty.

He's so frigging cute, my heart hurts. Ow. The phone rings in the Gilly Girl household and this is one of the many times I wish I was still a GG virgin and didn't already know it was Dean the Serial Killer on the other end.

Someone who is already violating her boundaries by inviting himself over, knowing full well she wanted to spend the night alone, is totally going to double-super-duper respect-her-boundaries if she says no to this additional boundary violation. Asking her permission, that's rich. And Dean the Abuser totally won't triple violate her boundaries when he finds out her circumstances changed and she ended up spending her time with someone other than him. This is going to go just swell.

Oh god, she's still wearing the Quarter on a String and it's even uglier than I could have imagined! You can finally see it well in the harsh light of the Gilmore Kitchen. I still need an extreme closeup. D: I know you want to be alone but I just want to stop by for a minute and say hello. Actually, what I meant to say was, fuck you Rory, even though you told me repeatedly you wanted to be alone I'm coming over anyway because I'm an abusive piece of shit. R: But you just said hi.

R: But I look like a mess. I'm not pretty. You wouldn't recognize me. D: Fuck you I'm coming over.

Dean Forrester is a straight up horror movie villain or at the very least the villain in a bad Lifetime movie/cautionary tale about an abusive boyfriend. Gilmore Girls really is a 7 year long Lifetime movie. (for the youngn's, Lifetime Network was a tv network primarily targeting women, something akin to the current Hallmark channel, and although they had their share of wholesome movies like HC they also produced dozens of low budget movies about men who stalked and abused women) TWWGG's Memory: "Hey TWWGG, remember in 2020 when 4 years had passed since you had watched Gilmore Girls for the 1st time, and you wanted to watch it again during the pandemic, and halfway through the 1st season you said to your best friend, "boy howdy I'm glad Dean finally leaves after Jess and Rory start dating" and she said "I hate to tell you this but Dean is around untl the middle of season 5, and also Jess leaves at the end of season 3" and all the color drained from your face and your whole world crumbled to pieces?" TWGGG's Memory Replying to Her Memory: Yes. I remember.

This "Dean not taking no for an answer" is terribly frightening and disturbing. My skin just prickled. When you take into account the fear and sheer desperation in Rory's voice it gets even worse. I feel like I should be putting trigger warnings on these scenes or something?

But what? But why? FUCK YOU DEAN FORRESTER!!

Thats true, you're not ruining her night. You're ruining her life and you're ruining everything you touch. The sidewalk you're walking on doesn't even want your smelly shoes walking on it. You are Dean the Ruiner. You make this show unwatchable. I hate you. Look how proud of himself this motherfucker looks. "I just violated Rory's boundaries. I violated them so hard. I'm gonna barge into her house without her consent and yell at her in front of her friends. She’s gonna love me so much. I'm such a good Dean. Yeah." Dean's holding a bag of something that we're supposed to believe is a pint of ice cream. But this is Dean so it's probably a human head on ice and not ice cream. "Ice cream" is just serial killer lingo for "human remains."

#gilmore girls #jess mariano #paris geller #anti dean forester #lorelai gilmore #emily gilmore #gilmore girls season 2 #theres the rub #denise rewatches gilmore girls #experimenting with shorter posts #not cutting down on the content but just dividing them into more numerous parts #you may be reading Theres the Rub Part 12 at this rate #milo ventimiglia #if you are a sidewalk that was stepped on by Dean Forrester #you may be entitled to financial compensation

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