#i 100% came This Close to being actually fucking called char. oh my god.
Text
maybe it's a good thing i didn't find gundam sooner bc i DEF would have changed my name to char
#my former middle name was my mother's maiden name and i always used to hate it bc it was a surname not a given name#so i lied and said it was charlotte bc they look similar and went by charlotte or a charlotte-based nickname for years until the#transgenderism hit and the only reason i didn't instantly become 'charlie' was bc i knew a charlie irl who like. died. (he was ancient#and i barely knew him so don't worry about it) + i'd only realized it was a sought-out 'charlotte' variant from h*zbin h*tel bc i had an#irl in middle school who had me watch it and thus i had a charlie = girl connection in my mind and was deadset on a 'true neutral' name bc#i thought i was nonbinary at first and that ultimately ended up as 'gendered name in a language i don't speak' (welsh). which. not my#proudest moment to say the least. but char is a charlotte variant and a neutral one at that and. oh my god i would've called myself char in#a heartbeat bc i was also annoying about fandom at the time where i wanted Everything in my life to reflect media i enjoyed and the idea of#naming myself after a character was like. mandatory for picking a name. and i love char now and know i would've loved char then#i 100% came This Close to being actually fucking called char. oh my god.#romeo.txt
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
This is a really incomplete idea BUT it’s about Brick’s hat(s). And hopefully someone else finds this and enjoys it! More under the cut, it’s a long post :)
I think it’d be funny if boomer and butch get him a shitty novelty hat for birthday/holidays/etc because 1) they don’t know what to get him 2) they’re like 12 with four buck to their names. so they just go from charity shop to charity shop looking for ideas. Brick probably doesn’t ask for much (I don’t think any of them do. poor kid syndrome amiright? I personally never think they’d be well off in childhood).
So anyway butch and boomer are bumming through the charity shops and boomers like:
“Holy shit, Butch!”
“Wut?” Butch looked over pulling the charred and ruined Halloween mask that someone had donated for god knows what reason off his head.
“Dude it’s perfect!” Boomer came running from three aisle over, waving a garment around in the air.
“It’s a hat.” Butch pointed out bluntly, unimpressed, and pointed to the mask atop his head, “I think we should get this.”
“But it’s red!”
“He’s got one of those. Wears it frequently.”
“But not like this!” Boomer boosted, “See.”
Boomer turned the hat around, so Butch could see the bill of it. It was one of those novelty snapbacks, inscribed on the front was the playboy bunny logo.
“Dude.” Butch smiled, giggling with Boomer, albeit a little nervously.
He was familiar with the playboy bunnies work, it wasn’t like he was a virgin or anything (except he secretly was), but he had never actually seen a genuine centerfold spread like some of the older boys at the detention hall had talked about. When he thought of playboy, he thought of the Victoria Secret models he saw plastered to the side of the store at the mall. They made him feel weird and his hands would get all sweaty, so he tried his best not to look too closely.
“Dude we should get him this!” Boomer continued to smile, “It’d be, like, so funny.”
“Yeah.” Butch nodded, as his smile grew. He didn’t 100% get why it was so funny, but the idea of having something with the playboy bunny logo on it seemed cool to him. It made him feel kind of like one of the older boys.
Him and Boomer snickered all the way to the cash register, and when it was their turn to pay, Boomer nudged him ahead, ducking behind him with a giggle. He glared at his brother over his shoulder, but allowed Boomer to twist a nervous hand into the fabric of his oversized sweater (the one his brothers had bought him last year. They bought it 3 sizes too big cause he kept growing out of everything too fast. It was 1 size too big now). Boomer liked latching onto their sleeves when he got nervous.
He didn’t get what the big baby was so nervous about though. They were just buying a stupid hat. The lady cashier watched them with thinly veiled boredom and Butch threw the hat down on the counter.
Raising a penciled on eyebrow, the older women examined the hat, “Playboy, huh? You even know what Playboy is kid?”
The question made the back of his neck burn. He had never heard a lady say playboy before, it was weird. From behind him, Boomer pressed his face into the back of his sweater to muffle another giggle.
“Uh, duh.” He sniffed, “We know, lady.”
“Have you actually seen a playboy before?” The cashier snorted, ringing them up, “Not just the logo?”
“Yes!” Butch huffed, defending himself, “The Internet!”
(It was a semi-lie—they had tried looking it up on the internet, but Fuzzy didn’t have a computer at his cabin, HIM wouldn’t let them use any of his flashy spy monitors, Mojo was lame, and the library had parent controls)
“Surreee.” The lady drawled out and rang them up, “Dollar fifty.”
He didn’t make eye contact with her as he handed over a crumpled dollar bill and took two quarters from the take-a-penny-leave-a-penny. When she gave them back the hat, they ran out of the store like they had committed a bank robbery.
When Brick opened the present two days later, he threw the plastic bag it had come in to the side and frowned.
“A new hat?”
“Yeah,” Boomer nodded, putting down the cheap Polaroid camera Butch and Brick had shoplifted from a secondhand shop downtown (still too expensive to actually buy), and reached for the hat, turning it around in Brick’s hand, “but look!”
Brick’s smile grew, as the logo registered in his head. “Oh, shit,” their brother laughed, “is this playboy?”
“Betcha you won’t wear it.” He goaded his brother on as he tossed the new (used—looked like it was taken from Pokay High’s sports department) rugby ball from hand to hand.
“Betcha I will.” Brick shot back, carefully removing the ratty cap he had had since forever and replacing it with the new one.
“Sorta big.” Their brother murmured, adjusting the strap.
“Your fat head will grow into it!” Butch joked and Brick punched his arm.
“Shut up, dipshit.”
“Do you like it?” Boomer beamed, ignoring the bickering.
Brick looked at their brother with a smile, precious anger dissipating, “Yeah, dude, it’s funny.”
———————————————————
Then it becomes a thing//like Brick really loves his hat collection:
“Truckin’ ain’t easy.” Brick read out loud with a snort, and replaced the hat he was wearing with the new one.
He thought for a moment then shook his head no, “nah. Not today.”
He had so many hats to chose from, it was almost overwhelming. They were all basically offensive on every level and he tried to wear them all as often as possible. The highlight reel included:
Kitty gang
Swag.
Yolo.
Lmao.
Weed jokes. Lotta weed jokes.
Thrasher.
Fish love me. Woman fear me.
Met god. She’s hot.
Blow me for luck.
Beer drinkers get more head.
The carpets do match the drapes
FuCk
Birthday Bitch
Deadass fuck thots on god
Hello I am Mr. Cunt
Master Baiter
Drive fast. Eat ass.
At 17, he had a vibrant hat collection. Anytime his brother’s saw a red hat with a shitty gag, they snagged it for him. Recent political events had bestowed upon his brothers a plethora of new material:
Make racists afraid again.
My other hat’s tin foil
Made you look
The list went on. His fuck cops wasn’t popular with local authorities. And how could he forget his most favorite powderpuff girl cap. That pissed them off to no end.
“Brick!” Butch yelled down the corridor. They were at Mojo’s this week, “Hurry up!”
“Uuhhhhh,” he mumbled to himself, as he stared at his wall, ignoring his brother. He hung them all up to make it easier to chose. His collection covered the wall.
His hand floated left to the one that said FuCk, but the one that said bad hair day caught his eye and his hand twitched to the right, “uuuuuhh, hmmmm.”
He floated toward the ceiling to look at the top of the wall, “welllllll...”
They’d be fighting with the girls today and because he liked making Blossom mad, he figured he needed to chose something more crude.
“Oh my god!” Butch cried outside his bedroom door, “Just fucking pick one!”
“Mmmmm.”
“Brick!” Butch pounded on his door, “I swear to god, I’ll burn them all if you just don’t pick one!”
“HMMmmmmmm!”
“Brick, it’s been thirty minutes!” Boomer whined, joining Butch, “The girls are waiting, we can’t cancel on them again! We’re bad guys, but we aren’t bad guys.”
“Ahhhhh—“ he sucked on his teeth in thought, “five more minutes!”
His brothers groaned in unison from the other side of the door.
“This is your fault, Boomer.” Butch whined.
“How?!” Boomer protested.
“Cause I wanted to get him that mask.”
————————————————————
His hat—his first hat—is lovingly preserved. He can’t risk losing it or damaging it any further. Before they started buying him new hats, most of the boys misadventures (the chaos they did NOT plan) were dedicated to saving Brick’s hat from the clutches of (insert one-shot villain here). It’s his security blanket. He breaks it out on the lazy days in.
He does though often lose his novelty hats. A violent gust of wind will rip one from his hat or a fight will cause it to disintegrate. But because Brick considers being the hat guy a personality trait, I think he’d have a spare one on hand at all times:
“My hat!” He cried, as the tornado-like monster blew through Townsville, ripping his hat from his head, and then disappeared into thin air, “the fucker took my hat!”
“Brick!” Blossom cried over the wind, “calm down! It’s a hat!”
“Yeah my hat!” He argued back. He wasn’t fond of the idea that him and his brothers and the girls now had to cooperate with each other, but desperate times called for desperate measures. “Butch! Boomer! I want my hat!” He hissed and his brothers nodded, understanding immediately what he meant.
“Right!” Butch dropped Buttercup, forgetting whatever fight the two had found themselves in.
“Got it!” Boomer jumped up from where he had been sitting on Bubbles, squashing her to the ground.
“What was that thing!” Brick barked at Blossom and she wiped the blood from her nose.
“I only know as much as you do, considering it literally just happened. Maybe it has to do with air—“
She cut off and looked at him, as he adjusted his emergency back up hat onto his head.
“What!” He hissed when he realized all three of the girls were giving him odd looks.
“Dude,” Buttercup asked from the ground, “do...do you just carry extra hats around?”
“Of course I do!” He spat, disgusted that they’d think so low of him not to, “Extra hat,” he pointed to his head, “emergency beanie,” he pulled one out of his pocket, “and extra hair ties,” him and his brother lifted up theirs wrists. “We live by the aesthetic, we die by the aesthetic, anymore questions?”
“Yeah!” Boomer huffed in his defense, “what’s it fucking matter to you anyway!”
“Don’t you three have bigger issues to worry about then our business?” Butch hissed, kicking at Buttercup.
Buttercup rolled away from the kick, dodging it with a laugh.
“What’s so funny!” Butch demanded and Buttercup shook her head, ignoring Butch and pointing up at her sister.
“Holy crap! He really is your counterpart, huh? You guys are perfect for each other!” She laughed wheezing.
“Hey!!” Him and Blossom bristled together, “Shut up!”
————————————————————
When he learns that over excessive hat use can lead to hair breakage and premature balding his heart breaks, so he starts buckling them to his belt loops instead when he remembers to give his hair a break.
#rrb Brick#ppg Brick#head canons#fic drabbly#theyve got a bad sense of humor#but so do i#:)#trucker hat jokes are peak comedy#you can buy any of the hats i mentioned on amazon
56 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Weight of Remembering
Prompt written for the Falliam Frenzy Week 1 — “please stay”
CW: mentions/depictions of (mild) PTSD, also SPOILERS from the most recent episode, as this is supposed to come in canon after it’s ending.
She had never seen him angry before. Annoyed? Sure. Disappointed? Whenever she took one of her vendettas a little too far (which … was more often than she’d ever admit out loud). But not angry. Never angry. Liam pushed Adam like he was trying to kill him with a simple shove — like the weight of his world depended on it, and Fallon realized that to some degree, it probably did. He remembered — remembered more than her, than the life they had started creating together before it was taken away from them. He remembered the accident that wasn’t really an accident, the accident that Adam had …
“Oh my god.” Fallon murmured, her chest tightening like it was about to break in two.
He was going to kill her brother if she didn’t stop them — push him into the still blazing vineyard below. Fallon lunged, pulling her husband - turned fiancé - turned boyfriend off of him, not because she cared what happened to Adam (truth be told, there was a part of her that wanted to just … let this play out), but because she couldn’t bare to lose him again. She couldn’t stand the thought of him being placed under arrest and taken away from her, or getting injured and forgetting again, or the slim chance that Adam would overpower him and that he would …
“Liam … Liam!” She shrieked over the ringing in her ears.
He wasn’t just angry — he was fucking furious, his entire body vibrating with the intensity of his memory returning all at once. Liam glowered at the gaunt man she was forced to call her brother, his hands clenched into fists, his jawline tense.
“It was him, Fallon.” He snarled. “He hit me over the head with that flowerpot. I … I could have died. I could have …!”
She felt his intent to attack again before he was able to initiate the action, placing herself firmly between the two men. Adam stayed cornered between Liam and the charcoaled vineyard below, dabbing a trickle of blood coming from his nose which was surely broken now.
“Liam.” Fallon tried again, placing either hand on his shoulders, eyes wide and silently pleading.
He looked at her like she was a stranger, and it brought back the remembrance of when he really couldn’t remember her. Tears prickled in the corners of her deep blue eyes, and Liam …
Liam broke, and would have plummeted to his knees were she not to catch him. She brought them down together, pressing him firmly into her shoulder and holding him, and listening to him cry, and maybe even shedding a tear herself. They didn’t speak — hardly moved save for his shuddered breaths and her entire form trembling with some amalgam of anxiety and pure, unadulterated despair. She didn’t cry, though. Fallon had trained herself long ago to compartmentalize what she now categorized as undesirable emotional baggage.
She wished she hadn’t.
At some point during the commotion, she saw Adam sprint out the barn and into the shadows, but she didn’t care — not right now, anyway. All that mattered was him — Liam. His hands came to clench the back of her coat just below her shoulder blades. Were it any other moment, she would have shaken him off, warning him of its delicacy and expense. That thought process was thrown to the wayside as she continued to cradle him, replaced by a slew of “it’s okay”’s, and “I’m here”’s, and “I’m so sorry”’s.
“It was him.” Liam murmured again. “It was him.” Over, and over, and over, and …
Fallon felt the fire’s heat before she smelled it. She craned her neck to see the blaze beginning to overtake the wooden barn, and without being fully cognizant of what she was doing, she sprung into action.
“We have to go.” She ordered, pulling Liam off the ground and shoving him towards the far door. “Now.”
Liam wiped a layer of sweat from his forehead, hiccuping like a child, but complied. With Fallon supporting practically his full weight against her shoulder, they barely escaped before the infrastructure collapsed under the weight of the flames — crackling morosely. Some morbid part of her couldn’t help but consider it a metaphor for the trajectory of her life. That thought was taken over by the flashback of what had happened just over a year prior. It played behind her eyes like a projector — paralyzing her as she watched it happen in front of her once more — the stable house went up in flames, almost taking her with it, and succeeding in charring her already dead step-mother..
“Cristal.” She hissed in a bout of confusion, taking a step towards the barn, only to feel strong arms around her waist, and to hear her name from somewhere beyond the fog of her traumatized mind.
“Fallon …? Fallon!” Over, and over, and Jesus if either of them had to say the other’s name one more time, Liam thought he might implode.
Fallon shook her head, lightly tossing her loose curls from side to side. Her balance swayed as she met Liam’s concerned stare. “I…”
“You’re ok” He mumbled into her hair, recognizing it as his turn to take care of her, as he waited (hell, practically expected) for her to break down.
All Fallon could do was feel guilty — so fucking guilty, as she once more managed to make it all about her. She shook him off of her, tensing her shoulders and putting up her bravest front, before stalking off towards the car and letting herself into the driver’s side. Liam came to sit next to her, his eyes still puffy, and now streaked with concern and a little confusion. She couldn’t hold his gaze for longer than a few seconds before she turned her blue eyes towards the ignition and focused on the hum of the Porsche’s engine.
“I can drive if you want.” Liam half offered, half whined, but it only made her push the throttle into drive and barrel off down the road faster than even she had intended.
They drove in relative silence, Liam marveling at the extent of his memories returning. He thought about his childhood, his mother, the first time him and Fallon had ever …
Fallon, on the other hand, tried her best to keep her mind blank for fear of Cristal polluting her mind’s eye. Her hands gripped the steering wheel so hard that her knuckles went white, and she found some semblance of solace in the way it made her palms tingle. Liam had always known her to be a … how could he put it kindly … a fucking batshit crazy driver … but this?
This was different.
The speedometer hit 100 before they had travelled more than a couple seconds from the rubble, and it only continued to go up from there. Liam tried to mask a the sigh of relief he expelled when he realized that they weren’t actually leaving Carrington property — just going from one portion of it to another, and so the speed that Fallon Carrington was traveling didn’t actually matter. The relief didn’t last long, though, because despite the legality of her speed no longer being a factor, it didn’t change the fact that their lives still hung in the balance.
The road to the main entrance of Carrington Manor stretched before them like a goddamn funeral procession — perfectly manicured trees lining either side of it for as far as the eye could see. When they finally pulled into the circular driveway, two maids opened their car doors, both asking what had happened, and if they had seen Adam. The couple shared a fickle look, Liam deferring to his girlfriend’s judgment on how to handle the matter. In true Fallon fashion, she ignored the help, breezing past them and heading directly for the stairs in the main hallway, not without adding a promise that there would be hell to pay if she was followed.
Liam stopped short, and it’s like she could feel his pause, because she looked over her shoulder, narrowing her eyes, and calling “not you, Liam”.
She wasted no time in shedding herself of her matching green Gucci coat and dress, crumpling into a heap on the foot fo her bed in a bout of exhaustion … and nothing but her bra and underwear. Liam stood precariously in the doorframe of her room, watching the scene unfold in front of him. He had seen her naked close to, if not a million times (as he had only recently come to remember). There was something decidedly unsettling about her not stripping completely, because it meant that this wasn’t an act of sexuality or seduction, which meant that it was … Oh shit. Vulnerability was rare in the heiress, and save for the times that he had hurt her, or rather, when his memory had betrayed him, it wasn’t something she allowed anyone to see — especially him. Fallon grit her teeth, feeling his eyes practically burning holes into the profile of her face. Burning …
The stable house. Cristal’s body going up in flames. Smoke filling her lungs. Her father’s arms around her waist, carrying her out and —
“Hey.” Liam’s tenor snapped her out of her thoughts. She didn’t know when he had come to sit next to her, but there he was, tenderly brushing a few misplaced pieces of hair off her forehead. “You ok?”
“Are you?” She countered, raising an eyebrow pointedly, almost harshly.
Liam smiled, his silver eyes glinting in the early evening light. “I remember.”
So do I. She thought bitterly, but held her tongue before the words could topple from her lips. His remembering should be positive, but truth be told, the admission hit them both like a pile of bricks. Fallon studied him for a moment before nodding slowly. She sat up, kissing his cheek, then resting her head on his shoulder. Liam placed a hand on her bare thigh in return, stroking his thumb back and forth, and reveling in the smoothness of her skin. Her hair, usually sweet with the scent of lilac and primrose, was masked by the scent of charred wood, rubble, and sweat. It didn’t take him long to recognize that he probably smelled of it too.
“I am so sorry, Liam.” The waver in her voice caught him off-guard. “I am … I am so so sorry.”
He shook his head, moving his hand from her thigh to cup her cheek and lift her gaze towards his. “Hey.” He murmured steadily.
Fallon didn’t expect the smile that spread across his features, but there it was — gentle, and precarious, but still present. It crinkled the corners of his eyes, and made his dimples protrude, and her heart fluttered in return.
“I’m here.” Liam promised. “We’re both here.”
They would stay like that for longer than either of them realized, holding each other’s gaze like the world might crumble if they looked away, and if he was being honest, Liam wasn’t totally certain it still wouldn’t. He was there, and he did remember, but a twinge of anxiety gurgled at the base of his stomach, because for how long? He wouldn’t say any of this to her — he knew better than to scare her like that. It was in part because he loved her too much to place that burden on her, but mostly because he had seen what the fear of him forgetting again had done to her, and he’d rather not have a repeat. He smiled, remembering the way her mouth popped into an “oh” shape as she stepped on the hunting rifle and it sounded with a loud bang. Fallon’s brow furrowed.
“What?” She puzzled, her curiosity quickly giving way to concern.
Liam shook his head before kissing her forehead delicately. “You.” He breathed, rubbing a smudge of soot from just above her left eyebrow. “Just … you.”
Warmth spread through Fallon’s frame, providing her relief from the low ache her joints had grown used to over what had otherwise been an impeccably stressful day — even by Carrington standards. She tried not to let it be fleeting, tried to suppress the thought that she needed to find Adam.
Find him, and then fucking murder him for everything that he had put them through — that he had put Liam through.
He didn’t know when she fell asleep. One moment he was stroking her hair, tangling and untangling his fingers in the curls at the base of her skull. The next she was snoring softly (something that he had never heard her do before … at least that he could remember … he decidedly liked it), her weight going limp against his torso. Liam tilted his chin to get a better vantage of the woman in his arms. She looked so … peaceful. God he didn’t know if he had ever seen someone look so peaceful. Her lips were parted slightly, her eyelashes fluttering delicately, her hands pressed between both their chests and grasping the cashmere of his sweater.
Liam smiled again, unable to help the butterflies in his stomach, because he remembered — remembered watching movies in the Carrington’s personal movie theatre for hours on end, and the way the light of the car windows dappled her pale cheeks while they drove through downtown Atlanta. He remembered the way she pursed her lips when she was angry, and tilted her chin when she proved her business savvy, and the way she bit the inside of her cheek when she was trying desperately to stifle her laugh — which she hated, but he absolutely adored. He remembered forcing her to attempt a ropes course with him one time, only for her to immediately vow that she would never ever do it again (“This is for middle schoolers,” She had whined before adding with a flirtatious, teasing smirk, “and man children, I guess.”)
He remembered the first time he told her he loved her — the mixture of fear and adrenaline it surged through her eyes. He remembered the first time he slept over, and when she asked him to marry her on the Lake Carrington.
He remembered the spike of pain as the flowerpot shattered against the base of his skull. He remembered his vision going white, then purple, then black. He remembered forgetting, and that scared him most of all, because …
Fuck. If he could remember forgetting, what was keeping it from happening again?
He felt her shift in his arms, letting out a muffled sigh. Liam laid back, taking extra precaution not to jostle her into consciousness. He loved the way she felt against him — loved the way she brought her leg over his and she burrowed into the side of his body, and the way her breath leveled when he pulled her closer. Liam studied the woman, bringing a finger to trace across her forehead, down the bridge of her nose, her lips, her chin, all the way down her neck and to the dip of her collarbones, but not daring to go any further. He wouldn’t forget her again. He didn’t know if he could survive it, and he sure as hell knew she wouldn’t. Liam shut his eyes, pressing his forehead against hers like it was the only thing keeping his head from falling off and rolling across the linoleum floor.
“Please.” He whispered, pleading to his own subconscious in a way that would have previously mad him feel utterly insane, but now was the only thing keeping him from coming undone at the seems.
“Please stay.”
#falliam#Falliam frenzy#falliamfrenzy#liam ridley#fallon carrington#angst#fluff#yeah yeah this is dark what else is new#dynasty#nat writes#you don't know me#lol why is everything I write so heavy#I um sort of really like this one though#one shot#fanfic
55 notes
·
View notes
Note
♤Hi! May I please get a ship for Queen & Bo Rhap? I’m 26 but I have already decided that I don’t want kids in the future, I prefer to focus on my career and my dream is to become an editor in a major media. I love reading, writing and watching movies. I’m usually the quiet person at the corner of the room who dresses in all black and tries to avoid all attention. I don’t consider myself a romantic person so I don’t like grand gestures. I also don't like rom coms. Have lots of insecurities.
hellooooooo
i’m taking a break from writing to do this HI i love that you want to be an editor. respect that so much
anyWAYS on to the part that u actually care about
below the cut ;)
For Queen, I ship you with Brian May!
Roger for sure would scare you away with grand gestures, he sometimes has issues differing between romance and spending needlessly on gooey crap.
And even though Brian is such a lowkey dad, I think he would 100% respect your decision to not have kids, unlike Deacon.
In fact, when you hardly knew Brian, he came to your defense when Deacon was giving you a hard time for wanting to focus on your future and not have to worry about providing for children. You were all seated around a table playing board games (Freddie was having a game night), but Roger and Freddie were wanting to finish their Scrabble game before you started anything else, so they were at the other end swearing at each other.
“I just think that you would be a good mom,” Deacon replied simply, setting his hands on the table and spreading out his fingers as he pressed the palms to the cool, grainy wood. He seemed perplexed by your aversion to kids, seeing as he’d always been such a family-oriented person.
“Oh, lay off of her, would you Deacon? You’re being a bit harsh,” Brian interjected from Deacon’s left. You sighed a bit in relief, thanking God that you didn’t have to endure any more of Deacon’s haranguing.
“Thank you, Brian,” you mumbled, and he nodded politely, sending you a particularly soft smile before continuing.
“Besides, I think it’s nice she wants to focus on her career. You're one to talk, you were deadset on electrical engineering before oh-so-graciously deciding you would join Queen after all.” John rolled his eyes, partially ignoring Brian as he tapped his fingers on the table, shaking his head. “Y/N’s got a good head on her shoulders. We should all be a little more like her sometimes.”
Brian’s kind, unwarranted words made a blush come to your cheeks, and you ducked your head as John scoffed, still looking down at his hands. “You think I don’t have a good head on my shoulders?
Brian’s response was simple, but sharp, and came accompanied with a pat to Deacon’s head. “Nope, you’ve got this mess flopping around.”
When Brian’s hand came to rest on top of his head, you saw Deacon’s expression sour before he smacked his hand away, scooting away from him. “Touch me again and I’ll really give you a good smack. Also, who are you kidding? You can’t even get to your stupid head through that mess,” he sneered, tugging on a curl of Brian’s rather hard and making him yelp, which got all of you to laughing.
Brian 100% started using any excuse he could after that to come hang out with you. He’d ask if he could borrow a book, or ask your opinion on a movie, and then finagle his way into a library date or movie night with you as a result.
You let him ‘finagle’ it out of you. Brian was cute, and his kind, soft demeanor was a great complement to your need for a subdued, temperate lifestyle.
He was absolutely infatuated with you, so when he decided he was ready to ask you to be his girlfriend, he had to ask the boys how they thought he should do it.
Roger and Freddie came up with some ideas that would have genuinely humiliated you, while Deacon offered an approach that would have you swooning for days, and Brian was incredibly nervous to make it happen - he was pretty whipped by you, so he wanted to get everything right.
And from the beginning, everything went wrong.
The garlic toast was burnt, the sauce was flavorless, and the pasta was overcooked when you showed up to Brian’s. He’d called you and asked you to come over to help him with a song he’d been working on, so you hadn’t expected for him to be cooking a fancy meal gone wrong when you walked in.
“Shit, I’ve ruined it all,” he cursed as you peeked around the corner of the kitchen. He was standing over the charred garlic toast with his hands on his hips, looking frustrated and pretty much defeated as he tried to reckon with the situation. When you cleared your throat, he jumped in surprise, not knowing that you’d come in.
“Hello, Bri,” you murmured gently, giving him a polite kiss on the check when he gave you a mildly frustrated smile and came over to greet you. “Having some problems? Thought you were working on a song?”
“Well, d’you want to know the truth?” he asked, sounding a bit exasperated as he threw the dish towel over his shoulder, walking back over to shut the burners off on the stove top. When you nodded, he sighed and leaned back against the counter, giving you a pitiful look as he gestured to the food. “I asked the boys what I should do for you tonight. I wanted to do something nice for you to show you that I appreciate you. Want to know what Roger and Freddie said?”
You were a bit red in the face at his particularly sentimental words that were laced with a bit of frustration, but you nodded for him to continue.
“They suggested I take you to wine and dine, then go for a private boat ride down the river that ended in a fireworks show. The whole 9 yards.” You wrinkled your nose a bit at the grandiose idea - perfect for those two, but not quite your style. “But then Deacon had the perfect idea - cook a homemade dinner, stay in, and watch a movie. And I’ve fucked it all up from the get-go, made myself look like an absolute moron who can’t even cook pasta. It’s a wonder you even hang around with me.”
“Brian, I think it’s sweet,” you laughed softly, coming over to poke the garlic bread with your pinky and meeting a remarkably hard surface. “And you haven’t ruined it. How about we just get delivery and stay in? We can watch The French Connection?”
And so you did. You ordered in some Chinese, settled in on the couch, and you were watching the car chase scene when Brian shifted uncomfortably, clearing his throat as he looked over at you with a sort of wistful expression. He was pale, his eyes searching your face with an unreadable stare.
“What is it?” you asked, glancing at him for a moment before looking back at the screen. “Food didn’t make you sick, did it?”
“No, no,” he chuckled airily, scratching his head before turning a bit more to you. “I was just going to ask you something, but I don’t know if I can handle your answer.”
“Well, now you’ve got to ask it,” you replied, raising an eyebrow as you looked at him curiously.
“Well, I said I brought you over here just to make sure you know I appreciated you, but I actually brought you over so I could ask.... would you be my girlfriend?”
Laughing, you cocked your head before nodding and trying not to blush as hard as your body was about to. “Even though you timed this to be during one of the best scenes of the movie, I suppose I’ll still say yes,” you teased gently, reaching over to take his hand and squeeze it.
A brilliant smile took over his face as he squeezed your hand in return before kissing your knuckles affectionately and letting your intertwined hands drop to his lap. “Well, isn’t that good timing? Now you’ll remember this as your favorite scene because of me.”
“Mmm, pretty sure I’ll still mainly remember it for the beautiful, tasteful cut sequences, but you’re a close second.”
And for BoRhap, I ship you with Rami Malek!
Your aversion to grand gestures and intense public scrutiny is very similar to Rami’s avoidance of social media and broadcasting his day to day to everyone. You’re both content with being out of the spotlight if at all possible, and Rami’s low profile public appearances are perfect for your relationship.
You were a friend of Gwilym’s before you met Rami, and Gwil noticed that both of you were a bit lonely while Rami was over in London for principal photography for BoRhap, so he set you up on a blind date together.
The location? A lowbrow cafe in a less populated part of London. That way, you were out of the public eye as much as possible without having to stay in, and you could get to know each other over some comfort food.
Within a half an hour, you had already warmed up to Rami’s easy-going way of conversing, and his gentle charm was enough to bring you out of your shell. It felt like you’d known him for years by the time your food arrived on the table.
After the cafe, it was dark enough that Rami asked if you’d like to take a walk, no longer fearing that the paparazzi would hound him if he just kept a low profile.
“So what do you do? I never got a chance to ask you that back there,” Rami asked, his arm held out so you could link yours into it as you started to head down the street.
“I’m an editor at Daily Mail. Not my preferred place of work, but not bad,” you replied, resting your other hand on his arm as you stuck close to his side, trying not to run into anyone.
“Not bad at all,” he chuckled, looking down at you with a small twinkle in his eye before he looked ahead, crossing the street with you. “Gwilym told me you’re into movies, is that right?”
“Gwilym told you something about me? I thought this was supposed to be a blind date, that dickhead!” you laughed, shaking your head as you looked forward. “Didn’t even tell me anything about you, how unfair!”
“I sort of got him drunk enough that he’d tell me the other night, so....” Rami shrugged, smiling sheepishly as you giggled at the thought of Drunk Gwilym trying to describe you. “I was nervous. Wanted to impress you, I haven’t been on a date in... gosh, forever. I’ve been so busy with filming, I basically dropped off the face of the dating world.”
“Still doesn’t make it fair, but props to you for thinking of the drunk thing. That’s a lot farther than I got when I tried to pry information out of him.” After a small pause, you looked down at your feet and smiled, then looked up at him. “And yes, I do like film. I’m a big movie girl.”
“Well... if you weren’t aware, I’m in a few films,” Rami said nonchalantly, an impish grin playing at his lips as he met your gaze for a moment. “I’m an actor, so that’s pretty much my thing.”
“You’re an actor? Gosh, that’s crazy! Never knew that,” you replied in faux excitement, sarcasm lacing your voice, and Rami laughed as you started giggling, the two of you an adorable sight to all the passerby.
And an adorable sight you continued to be as you went out for a second, and third, and even fourth date at hole in the wall places around London. When principal photography was wrapping up, Rami asked you to be his girlfriend, and even though the distance thing made you nervous, you knew that there was no reason to worry about trust or anything. So, you said yes.
A couple weeks after he’d departed London, he was preparing for the press tours and you were in the midst of a big project when he called you out of the blue, dragging you from a meeting you’d been bored to tears by anyways.
“Hello?” you answered, pressing your phone to your ear as you stepped back into your office, shutting the door behind you.
“Hi, beautiful. How’s your day?”
Rami’s voice made you grin ear to ear, filling your whole body with an inexplicable warmth. “It’s going. You almost packed?”
“Of course not,” he laughed over the phone, making you giggle softly. “I’m trying, but I really had to get something off my chest before I got to work here.”
“Okay, shoot,” you said casually, though you were confused by ‘get something off my chest,’ so you raised an eyebrow, very interested in what he had to say.
“So, what would you say if I flew into London tomorrow, and you came with me to help me choose my place?”
“Choose your place?” you asked, baffled by the question. You weren’t really sure what he was proposing, but he sounded somewhat excited.
“Well, I really miss you, and Ben, and Gwilym - especially you - so I figured why not get myself a house in London so I can be there as often as I want without imposing on all of you?”
You almost choked as you realized Rami was literally considering buying a home in London to be close to you. It seemed an awful lot like an expensive attempt at a romantic gesture, and you didn’t want that at all. “Babe, please don’t feel like you have to do this just to be a good boyfriend-”
“No, no, I want to!” he interrupted, sounding genuine as he chuckled a little, then cleared his throat. “Also, it’s not just for you, if that worries you. I miss London in general. And Ben and Gwilym. Those two... are something. Can’t believe I miss them as much as I do.”
“More than me?” you teased, Rami’s laugh filling your ear and making you grin as you let the temporary nerves wear off. Rami in London. Now that was something you could get used to.
3 notes
·
View notes
Note
I've noticed your comments about Love Live Sunshine and don't get me wrong, we all have our own opinions and I'm not telling you stop posting your negative thoughts about it, but why do you hate Love Live Sunshine so much? And if you hate it that much, why are you even watching it?
I suppose it comes off as hate doesn’t it? Well despite how it appears, it’s not entirely hate, it’s mostly disappointment, and while that might not sound much better i’ll try to explain what I mean, hopefully to a degree that it can be understood.
Spose I should start at the top shouldn’t I?
I think it goes without saying that this point that I didn’t like the original show at all, it had its moments, and 2 or 3 good characters, which isn’t saying much I realize but these casts are fucking bloated of course only a handful will be likeable. The concept seemed really fucking stupid from the outset, and it is, but I’ve seen worst, and as a first attempt by SunRise for an Idol show, to my knowledge, the idea to give it an actual plot to follow was in theory a noble one. It failed completely, but the thought was there. More to the point, almost everyone was completely flat, incredibly stupid, and beyond insufferable.
I’ll be honest, I can put up with a lot, and if I had chosen to watch it of my own volition I’d probably have been more forgiving of the writers dancing on active fault lines, but at the time some years back, I had several people breathing down my neck to watch the fucking show so I went in pissed off. Don’t get me wrong, that doesn’t change the fact that these characters say and do things that would make me want to hurt a small child, but I would still have been more kind to it in the long run.
Then the movie happened, and well.... Lets just say the series needed the fucking soft reboot that was Sunshine after that abysmal travesty of a movie that completely deficated on a third of the casts character development. I’m still trying to work out the quantum fucking mechanics of how Honoka could receive her microphone from her future fucking self BTW.
I openly admitted this at the time, and this is important because this is often overlooked by the crowd. I said that after the failure of the movie, and knowing that a new series was coming, if SunRise could learn from their mistakes, then I would gladly and open-mindedly go into Sunshine with a positive attitude and be kinder to it if the series was able to escape its charred charcoal burned roots.
Needless to say I was absolutely blown away by how incredibly Sunshine could be at times, and how baffling disgusting and incompetent it could be as well. I stress that Sunshine is wholly the better property I was able to enjoy more than whole episodes and character arcs completely this time around, as opposed to the original where I enjoyed maybe 10 minutes of its total 700 minute run from episode 1 to movie credits.
The series had incredible characters to start, those already good characters ACTUALLY GREW INTO EVEN BETTER CHARACTERS, THESE CHARACTERS ACTUALLY GROW AND MATURE AND THAT’S INCREDIBLE. I’ll say openly that the second years are some of the best characters I’ve seen in any anime in the past several years, and I would never hope to take away from that. Better was that we actually had rivals that we could see and understand, that weren’t placed on a pedestal for no discernable reason, one that stood on relatively even ground that could be combatted in real time, force growth and change upon both groups.
At the same time, while the series had heights and feats that rivaled Everest, it also had lows that would put the Mariana Trench to shame. No, I don’t care what anyone says, I will never get over all the bullshit that happened between Mari and Kanan, and how absolutely disgusting Kanan is, even now, refusing to grow up or stop being a cunt or do anything of value to the group you so claim to love. I’ll be generous and say I was fucking disgusted by SunRise repeating what happened with Honoka and Kotori in the first season here with Mari and Kanan, almost beat for beat. It was terrible the first time, and suicidally bad the second time.
To regain the focus, by then end of it while my opinions were of the mixed nuts variety with plenty of roasted salt, I still gave it a hearty recommendation because I thought it was genuinely pretty good, blue cuntveats notwithstanding.
NOW
Where my problem overall with Season 2 lies. If it disappointment and wasted potential were a physical force this series could level mountains.
From the beginning we’re told that we’re on an incredibly strict time crunch and that we need to focus all our efforts hardcore in the second round.
Only for almost literally all of the first 6 or 7 episodes to be nothing but filler and padding to waste time, where no growth or progression of any kind took place at all, and such wonderful gems as
Dia: Please call me Dia-Chan.
Chka: No!
and the omnipresent
Chika: Teach how to do a backflip
Kanan: Not on your fucking life!
Kanan: Oh shit she learned how to do the backflip...
Where it all came to a head however was with the reveal of just how many students the school actually had, because that was something that was never brought up. The total number of students is 68 when all are accounted for. And the is beyond miserable. 100 fucking students isn’t enough, to maintain the school you need at least 200, but closer to 300. With 68 students the school should’ve closed fucking years ago. The revelation of that number killed the entire fucking show, it made moot the efforts and development of every single fucking character, because no matter what, even if they had gotten 100 students, this same predicament would still inevitably rear its head once again next year or the year fuckin after.
I want to make clear, more than anyone else on this site, I have authority to speak on this matter, and no one can refute this, hell I’d barely even listen to them if they did because I severely fucking doubt they ever dealt with this sort of thing, if they did they would totally agree with me.
I have come face to face with a school closure myself. 15 years ago the district announced that my Elementary school would be closing, this school with 700 students that churned out some of the best results in the city might I add. It was a hard and long fought battle, it lasted 3 years, but eventually the parents won that war, and it’s still open now. How did they do that? By actually getting involved, going to meetings, talking directly to superintendents and comptrollers, explaining things like how some of them go to work really early or work late, they can’t send their kids anywhere else because they’d never be able to make it to other schools in the morning on time or pick up on time because of how far away they are, how different schools offer different programs, and not all schools offer the same accommodations for special needs children as this one did, ETC. The point is, the parents got active in the fight, the people that might have been able to affect the outcome did, and while it was no easy task, they did it, they actually fucking one that battle.
I don’t expect even a fraction of that to occur, but to at the same time tell me that the parents don’t know or care at all, much less any of the other fucking 59 students are powerless to help in any meaningful capacity is an absolute load of horse shit.
Where it started to bring my blood to a boil, nay to a bursting point, was what happened in the last to episodes with Saint Snow. The best song the franchise ever gave us was Self Control, followed by Shocking Party. This is a fact. From a single interaction some of the most intriguing and likeable characters we got were also Saint Snow. For them to be all but ignored in season 2 until 8 fucking episodes in is ludicrous, but for their first appearance in over 10 episodes to be them failing a concert and us not even getting to hear any of the fucking song, is insulting, it’s infuriating, it’s domestic abuse. This isn’t a slap in the face, this is Studio SunRise forcefully shoving their cock in your mouth against your will and punching you in the eyes with brass knuckles for crying about the cock in your mouth.
Honest to God, if I wasn’t committed to seeing this through, these last two episodes would be my first set my merchandise on fire moment, and that is saying a lot. It might sound like i’m being overdramatic, but honestly there are a lot of people that agree with me on this matter.
I did a lot of thinking in writing this post and it took me the better part of an hour to write it. I still hold fast on my thoughts about the original, 2/10 garbage.
I still hold to my opinions of season 1 Sunshine, 7/10 very good.
But this season? Well let me put it this way, I score every episode and tally the scores at the end, if season one got a 70 percent
Season 2 probably wouldn’t even reach a combined 20/130
I will still recommend newcomers to Sunshine season 1 absolutely, but I will also absolutely tell them to pretend season 2 never happened, do not watch it because it will make you commit homicide in the aftermath.
Why do I hate Sunshine Season 2?
Because SunRise finds new and exciting ways to fail at absolutely everything on every single level every week. I infamously gave the movie a 1/10, in the long run, I think I would sooner rewatch that movie on loop than ever rewatch this season of Sunshine ever again.
5 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
plytinum
Plytinum
primonelson
Primo Nelson
(fan page)
ashifu-sama
Ashifu's Hell
rookinherrookery
The Rookery
mizdoom-blog
The Illustrious Miz Doom