#of all the gin joints!!! he would love to play it live again!!!!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cherrycola27 · 2 years

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Styx and Stones

Part 1

"Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, she walks into mine" -Casablanca

Pairing: Rooster x OC Delilah Grace "Styx" Mitchell

Warnings: Language, drinking allusion to Smut with eventual smut. Mentions of cheatinf Mentions of a character wanting to unalive themselves. 18+ Minors DNI

A/N: I hope everyone enjoys this!

"Remember Rooster, you miss this and the next round is on you." Hangman teased as Rooster circled the table preparing to take his shot in the pool game the two friends were playing. "Hangman if you could kindly shut the fuck up so I can concentrate that would be great." Rooster shot back.

"Hey, no one gets to tell my husband to shut the fuck up besides me Bradshaw!" Phoenix chasted him while handing Jake a beer. Hangman returned the favor with a passionate kiss.

"Get a room you two." Rooster scolded bending over to take his shot. "Bradshaw if you don't take a shot soon I'm going to start playing 'Slow Ride' and we both know how much you love that song." Hangman joked with him.

Rooster lined up his pool cue, just as he was about to hit the ball he looked over the pocket and saw someone her never thought he would see again saunter through the doors of the Hard Deck. The unexpected distraction caused Bradley to miss his shot completely.

Jake jumped up excitedly but his victory was short lived when he looked over and saw Roosters eyes fixed on the woman in the black dress and dark red lipstick standing by the bar. She perched her aviators atop her head and gave Penny a warm hug. Obviously the two women knew each other.

"Who is that?" Hangman asked looking a Rooster.

"You know her?" Phoenix asked

"I used too." Rooster stated with a touch of sorrow in his voice.

"That my friends is Lieutenant Comander Delilah Grace Mitchell. She's Maverick's niece who he helped raised after his brother and wife, her parents died in a car accident when we were 13. She is or was an old friend of mine." Rooster told them

"She's a Navy girl?" Phoenix asked taking note of the rank Rooster told them this mystery woman had.

"She's a pilot." He told her. "She's pretty good too... you might know her better by her callsign... Styx"

"Styx?!" Hangman said shocked. "As in seven confirmed kills, shows no mercy, the only think between you and death is her... Styx?"

"Yup. That's her." Rooster replied. "She was also the first girl to break my heart."

"Wait, is she the one that got away that you told us about?" Phoenix asked trying to figure out the history between her friend and this girl.

"Yeah, she is. I can't believe she's here though. Last time I talked to her she was on the east coast, she was supposed to get married to some Navy officer out there..." Rooster trailed off, the memory of the last time he had spoke to Delilah was too painful for him to mention.

She had broken up with him years ago, the day he was going to propose to her, even though she didn't know it, because she didn't want anyone around to mourn her when she died except for Mav. Then a year later she calls to tell him she's getting married, Rooster had lost it that night, he almost crashed his Bronco because of how upset he was.

"So you haven't talked to her in awhile I'm guessing?" Hangman asked. "It's been two years I think." Bradley replied. "I gotta get out of here yall. This is too much." Rooster stated grabbing his things.

But before he could make it to the door a familiar hand pressed to his shoulder and stopped him

"Bradley Alexander Bradshaw, I know you don't think you are about to leave this bar without speaking to me." Styx said looking up at him with the same green eyes that caused his heart to melt.

Rooster sighed knowing he had been caught in his attempt to leave before she saw him. "Hey there Delilah... I see you decided to leave New York City."

"Still got jokes I see Bradley, glad to see the Navy hasn't changed your sense of humor." Delilah laughed. "Well are you just going to stand there or are you going to give your best friend a hug?" She asked him.

Best friend.... so that's what we are calling it Rooster thought. He quickly bent down and gave her an awkward side hug. "Why don't you stay awhile and have a drink or two with me?" Styx asked him while making her way over to the bar. Rooster shot a pleading glance towards his friends who were watching by the pool table but no one was about to save him.

"So I bet you're wondering why I'm here in North Island aren't you?" Delilah asked as soon as they sat down, Penny placed two beers infront of them and gave Rooster a knowing glance.

"Yeah and I'm wondering if you have a new last name yet." Rooster said taking a long sip. "No, I don't. I left Dameon after I went to his apartment one day and walked in and saw him balls deep in some blonde. I didn't even let him explain himself. I grabbed my shit, pawned the ring, bought a plane ticket and ended up on Mav and Penny's door step at 2am about 6 months ago." Styx told him not mincing words.

"Oh shit, I'm sorry that happened to you." Rooster apologize to her. "It's not your fault he wanted to fuck around. Guess that's what I get for breaking my 'No one to mourn me rule'." Styx shrugged.

"Oh yeah because that's such a great rule to have. It must be so nice going through life with no friends, no one besides Penny and Mav to love you." Rooster rolled his eyes.

"What exactly are you trying to say Bradshaw?" Delilah raised her voice slightly.

"I'm just saying you must have a lonely existence, but if it helps you sleep at night, whatever floats your boat." Bradley retorted.

"Oh, because you live such a great life Rooster? I don't see you having anyone special in your life." Styx shot back.

"I may not have a girl right now, but that's not because I'm afraid to let someone love me. Like you are." He sneered at her.

"What the fuck did you just say to me? I am not afraid to let someone love me Bradshaw. Watch yourself." Styx challenged him.

"Oh my GOD Delilah, you are still just as fucking hard headed as ever!" Rooster growled slamming his beer down on the the bar top. "Excuse me?" She shot back staring him down.

"You do this ever time you get hurt, make up excuses as to why it happened. And God forbid you ever let anyone get close to you." He pushed back turning to face.

"Just what the fuck do you mean by that Bradley?" She challenged.

"I mean every time someone breaks down these 10 foot thick walls you have built around yourself you run or self-sabotage just like you did to us." Rooster stated leaning down to her.

"Oh here we go again, you are still mad that we broke up. So what, are you happy Dameon cheated on me? That I got my karma?" Delilah yelled moving to stand up.

"No, I'm not happy he did that to you, you didn't deserve that, but I will say I never would have cheated on you. I loved you Delilah don't you get that? The first time you broke my heart into a million fucking pieces, the day YOU ended things, I had a ring in my pocket, I was going to fucking propose to you! And you left me, you pushed me away because you were scared that you had let someone get too close. And then a year later you call me up and tell me you're on the East Coast and engaged?! That was the second time you broke my heart. God I was so mad at you that night I wanted to drive my Bronco off a cliff! Hell I almost did, because dying would have been easier than living in a world where Deliah Mitchell didn't love me back like I loved her!" Rooster was seething as he finished his rant.

Several people were watching the interaction between the two ex lovers but he didn't care. Styx opened her mouth to speak but Rooster quickly cut her off by turning on his heels and bolting out of the bar.

Delilah got up to follow him but as she walked out the door, she saw his familiar blue Bronco speed out of the parking lot.

Rooster slammed on the gas as he peeled out of the Hard Deck. He wiped a few stray tears out of his eyes because he refused to shed anymore tears over her, he had done plenty of that three years ago.

Rooster pulled into his small bungalow on the beach. He quickly went inside and slammed the door. He went straight to his bedroom and to his dresser.

He opened the fourth drawer and there behind his socks were two things he had hidden away for the past three years that he couldn't bear to get rid of.

He pulled out the small black velvet box and opened it. The engagement ring he had purchased for Delilah years ago still sparked as it looked back at him.

He pulled it out of the box and looked at the inscription inside the band "For Eternity My Love" a promise that he and Delilah had once exchanged when they expressed how long they would love each other.

Rooster then looked at the second item in his drawer: a picture of Delilah and him from early in their relationship. It was from a barbecue that Maverick and Penny had hosted. They were both laughing at something Maverick had said. Delilah's arms were wrapped tightly around Roosters neck and her head was thrown back laughing with the biggest smile on her face.

Rooster looked at the ring and the picture. He wished he could get rid of them. He longed to tear up that old photo and pawn the ring, but everytime he tried to do either, he could never bring himself to do it.

Rooster felt his eyes being to water. "No," he whispered to himself "No more tears over her.... she made her choice." Rooster quickly shoved the items back in his drawer and grabbed his night clothes. He took a long hot shower and then collapsed in his bed.

Delilah quietly made her way into her aunt and uncles house.

"So I heard you are already making friends with Rooster again." Maverick's voice came from behind her. Delilah sighed and turned around to face her uncle.

"So I take it Penny told you about our conversation." She said. "Well, your aunt called me as soon as you left and told me about the fight you and Rooster had in her bar." Maverick told her.

"Tell her I'm sorry. I didn't mean to cause a scene, he just struck a nerve I guess." Styx admitted to him. "I'm sorry kid, but you two are going to have to put your differences aside if you are going to work together." Maverick said.

"I know. I'll get it together I promise." Delilah stated. "Uncle Pete, can I asked you something... and I need you to be totally honest with me, even if you think it will hurt my feelings?" She asked her uncle.

"Of course Del, what's going on?" Maverick looked at her concerned.

"When we were arguing, Rooster told me something... he said the day I broke up with him, he said that he was going to propose to me. Did you know? Did you know he was going to propose to me Mav?" Delilah looked at him waiting for him to answer.

"I, kid, I... yes, yes I did know Delilah. He asked me for his blessing a few weeks before, I even helped him pick out the ring." Maverick confessed.

"Mav! You knew!? And you still let me break up with him and them move across the country and get engaged to someone else a year later?!" Styx was shocked, angry, and confused all at the same time. Tears threatened to fall from her eyes.

"Would it have made a difference of I had told you? Would you have stayed? Delilah... do you still love him?" Maverick asked his niece.

"I, I, I do. Oh my God Maverick I do still love him. Jesus Christ I fucked up, I fucked up big time." The tears she had been fighting streamed down her face. Pete pulled her into a hug.

"Pete, what do I do? I really messed up and now he probably hates me." Delilah looked to her uncle for answers.

"Delilah, I don't know what to tell you except you have to be honest with him, and with yourself. That's how I got your aunt back." Maverick imposed his wisdom on her.

"And Del, if there is one thing I know about Rooster, I know he doesn't hate you. Honestly the day he found out you were engaged, he showed up on my doorstep a mess. He was drunk out of his mind holding a picture of the two of you and the ring he bought you. He went on and on about how it wasn't fair, that it should have been him, and how it might just be easier to end it all then to live in a world where you didn't love him. It really broke him sweetheart. So I know he doesn't hate you. And if I'm being honest I think he might still love you too." Maverick assured her.

Delilah took in everything that Maverick had told her. She gathered herself and made her way upstairs to her bedroom.

After a quick shower she went to her dresser and grabbed an old worn out Navy tee shirt. She slipped it over her head and inhaled deeply... it still smelled like Rooster even after God knows how many washes, the fabric still hung onto his familiar woody, spicy, sweet scent.

Delilah laid down on her bed and pulled the blanket over her body. As sleep found her she pondered everything that had happened today and wondered if it would be possible to fix the mistake she made all those years ago.

Hope yall enjoyed this! I'm excited to tell this story. As always let me know if you want to be added to the tag list!

Tag List: @bradleyrbradshaw @dreamingathighaltitude @shanimallina87

#top gun maverick #top gun #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #rooster top gun #rooster x oc #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw smut #rooster smut #bradley bradshaw x oc

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augment-techs · 9 months

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Six Word Starter Prompts (part 2)

Ran away with circus; never returned

Buxom songstress loves love and chocolate

Blades cuts, blood runs, scars remain

Did I miss a deadline again?

Walking the green mile: Finally free

Dreamy visions during extended daytime hours

Love drama, just not my own

I wouldn't change it a bit

Saw the world; now where's home?

Nose broken, beauty queen changes profession

Blinked! Winked! I am halfway through!

Arms: Full. Life: Not so much

Many risky mistakes, very few regrets

Six kids; life is stranger than fiction!

He left me for good eventually

would you like fries with that?

Legs spread, I withheld my intelligence

Traversing Earth together, chasing elusive answers

hockey is not just for boys

never liked the taste of beets

underachieving pleasure punk seeks constant gratification

risked it all; never quite enough

I write because I can't sleep

sperm too potent, now have triplets

Never fear. Truffle season is near.

started small, grew, PEAKED, shrunk, vanished

Mom blames musical theater. I disagree.

and I never did sober up

world backpacking decade ends with minivan

asked and answered, asshole, next question

Really, doing fine, thanks for asking

Oh shit! No way? Yeah dude.

Mistook streetlight for the moon. Climbed.

Boyfriend in bed, still a lesbian?

wanted to live forever, died trying

happy child, wild teenager, adult anarchist

to make a long story short...

My second grade teacher was right.

someone had to pay the bills

Didn't fit in then; still don't.

I love my lady...and bacon.

Revenge is living well, without you.

Outcast. Picked last. Surprised them all.

Became my mother. Please shoot me.

If there's more, I want it.

it's like forever, only much shorter

Cancer for sure. Still no cure.

born lucky, striving to die worthy

tequila made their clothes fall off

I told you I was crazy.

Topless dancer. Circus clown. Spy. Writer.

I play dress-up for a living.

Where the hell are my keys?

They always wore socks to bed.

Well, I thought it was funny.

I died at an early age.

I couldn't possibly fuck him again.

Same mistakes. Over and over again.

Me: fully reformed and halfway happy!

the day just kept getting better

born in city that doesn't exist

shot my penis in photo booth

after which he was never sane

almost nothing was under my control

let me in, you narrative whore

cheese is the essence of life

I waste time looking for love.

straight jacket on the gentle cycle

I secretly read wedding magazines.

my ancestors were accented cow herders

Gin joints. Love affairs. No relation.

slightly flabby, slightly fabulous, trying hard

Thank fuck the suicide attempt failed!

Secretly, I dream of my ex-boyfriend.

unfortunately, there was no other way

My wife made me do it.

Like an angel. The fallen kind.

drew on walls, creative for life

When all else fails, start running.

still waiting for you to ask

My penultimate act is to imbibe.

ordering soup for two, for one

Sometimes at night I lay lonely.

I didn't walk off the roof.

will draw for food and coffee

I fell out of the nest.

I don't nibble. I bite. Hard.

He knew the bruises would fade.

we were married in the snow

lonely, frothy kisses, then only spite

we were each other's favorite person

learned to live with great loss

I'm not afraid of anything anymore.

most successful accomplishments based on spite

He wore dresses. This caused messes.

I will never be quite finished.

I tried. It was not enough.

There will be no beautiful corpse.

Found a demon to love forever.

These words are yours to keep.

#writing prompts #ask prompts #sentence starters #source: not quite what I was planning: six-word memoirs #boom! comics power rangers #power rangers in general

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backslashdelta · 1 year

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Hi tumblr user backslash delta. What fob song would you assign to each of your fav glee ships

Hi tumblr user twinskeletxns. What an excellent question!

Relatedly, you might be interested in the time I assigned each album to a Glee character, or I picked a FOB album and assigned every Glee character to one of its songs, or my thoughts on Puck as a FOB fan.

I feel like I should do this without using the songs I've already giffed lol, that feels like cheating. But since it's on topic, I do definitely see Kurtbastian as Fourth of July and Klaine as Disloyal Order.

But let's suppose I can't use those, just for funsies. I'm gonna do 4 ships but if you have questions about a specific ship not included lmk! I also didn't have any of these in mind ahead of time, so I figured this all out just now flipping through FOB's discography. I reserve the right to change my opinions at any time lmao

Kurtbastian: Of All The Gin Joints In All The World

This is from Sebastian's perspective. And I'm obsessed. Sebastian talking about how Kurt doesn't know the real him, and if he did then he wouldn't want him. They ARE making out (maybe not inside crashed cars, but whatever)!! He never really cared about another person, he just wanted to live his life, but now there's KURT and that's all he dreams about now. Sebastian is definitely bad at talking about his feelings but he can definitely show Kurt how he feels about him ayyyy. He will NEVER be the same, not after Kurt. And Kurt is kind of untouchable - not in a literal sense obviously, but he's so strong, all of the things about Sebastian and his life that he thinks might deter Kurt, though don't, they can't touch him.

Actually, on further thought, I think FUTCT might be a Kurtbastian album... going to resist the urge to make a gifset series because I don't have time but it may happen eventually

Kelliott: The Last Of The Real Ones

You know I feel like this is very much a "everyone is fake but you're not, you're real, I was kind of alone in this big world and then I found you, other people might see you and think they need you but they don't really get you, not like me" vibe and that feels very them? Like they're both really unique and special and they see through people's bullshit. They are real ones. Even the "you were too good to be true, gold plated" I feel like is Kurt seeing Elliott for the first time and being like "ugh no this guy cannot be for real" but like he IS. And then Kurt SEES that finally and is like oh shit what was I thinking.

Klaine: Miss Missing You

This is very specifically season 6 breakup Klaine. "Sometimes before it gets better the darkness gets bigger, the person that you'd take a bullet for is behind the trigger" HELLO????? Kurt breaks Blaine's heart and Blaine is CRUSHED and they go through HELL but they had to go through those dark times to come back together and be better!!! Literally it's just them. It's them!!!

Klaine (but happy this time): Heaven's Gate

Literally this song is just talking about how much they love each other and they would give everything to each other and they will keep coming back to each other always, anything other than being together would just feel like a substitute, like a placeholder for each others' love. Anyway. Yeah.

Pizes: Favorite Record

This is very Puck just wanting Lauren, you know? "You were the song stuck in my head, every song that I've ever loved, play it again and again and again and again" which I feel like is very him just going after her and her being the only one for him even when she was making it difficult for him, you know? "And I spin for you like your favorite records used to" honestly she kinda has him whipped lmao but like not in a bad way! He'd just do anything for her. "And when you ask me, 'How I'm doing?' Like you know how much better off I am," like she knows he is a better version of himself with her, you know? And he knows. They both know. He can't remember how to forget how he feels when he's with her.

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alphabet-blues · 3 years

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Here it is, chapter one of my baby, my magnum opus. This fic is going to be so long so I hope you guys are buckled up and ready. Each chapter also is accompanied by a literature/media excerpt and five song mini-mix as a YouTube playlist. - Venom

Read on Ao3

Title: drowning lessons

Pairing: Harley Keener/Peter Parker

Fandom: Spider-Man (Tom Holland), and MCU

Chapter: One

Rating: Explicit

Content Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Tags: Angst, Depression, References to Depression, References to Drugs, Graphic Drug usage, Addiction, Graphic Usage of Opioids, Dubious Consent, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, brief mentions of forced prostitution, Suicidal Ideation, Suicidal Thoughts, drug overdose, Graphic Depiction of a Drug Overdose, Getting Together, Fluff, Banter, The Euphoria Fic, Blowjobs, Alternate Universe - College/University, Drug Addict Harley, Aged-Up Harley Keener, Aged-Up Peter Parker, Drowning Lessons, Falling In Love, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Tags Are Hard, Tony Stark Acting as Harley Keener's Parental Figure, Harley Keener Needs a Hug, Underage Drinking, Partying, Purchasing of Drugs, Harley's Nirvana Hoodie is a character

Summary: It all started with a house party and a bad idea, like most things in Harley’s life.

In which Harley takes pills, listens to Nirvana, and doesn't want to be alive anymore.

Falling for Peter is easier than breathing, and also the least of his problems.

(Also known as the Parkner Euphoria Fic)

Mini-Mix 1 for Chapter 1

The Pool Players. Seven at the Golden Shovel.

We real cool. We Left school. We

Lurk late. We Strike straight. We

Sing sin. We Thin gin. We

Jazz June. We Die soon.

- Gwendolyn Brooks

It all started with a house party and a bad idea, like most things in Harley’s life.

He was 14, and it was his first party. Well, not his first party, but his first party with actual high schoolers that involved booze that wasn’t snuck out from a parent’s meticulous liquor cabinet. Harley though, didn’t have much of a taste for alcohol.

The smell of beer on people’s clothes was tainted by memories of his Father. He’d had his first beer when he was 10, given to him by his Uncle with strict orders not to tell his Mother. It was bitter, rancid, and burned as it went down and Harley couldn’t understand how people loved this stuff. Or how his Father had chosen this over their family.

The party was a little ways out from the main road and tucked behind a line of trees that led to a few rolling fields of corn. It was October, and there was a slight chill in the air. The corn had been combined at the end of summer, leaving a desecrated patch of land in its wake. By the time next summer rolled around, there would be stalks nearly as tall as Harley. He was fascinated by the cycle of it all.

Technically, there wasn’t supposed to be any freshman at the party, but he had weaseled an invite from his friend Joey’s older brother, Mike, as long as he followed his strict orders to “be cool.” Harley could do that.

When Harley made his way into the house he watched the different crowds of upperclassmen interact. Some were dancing to the loud thumping of the music playing from the speakers by the TV in the living room, while others were huddled into tight groups, either drinking, or passing a joint around. An ache settled inside Harley’s chest.

Harley committed to his role of being a wallflower and held back from all of the groups as he made his way through the house. He had sat on the couch for close to a half-hour when someone passed him a joint and told him to take a hit. Harley did, and was careful not to choke so he didn’t look green at his first-ever real party.

The joint in question got passed around their circle a few more times until someone put it out. At that point, Harley had taken several puffs and was starting to feel light-headed and fuzzy, but in a good way.

The ache in his chest morphed - it spread warmth over Harley’s ribs and clavicle, but it still burned.

Harley floated through the house afterwards, giggling at nothing, and took whatever was offered. He drank something bitter and sour that made him want to hurl before he was passed something sickly sweet but felt like acid as it washed down. When he finally stumbled out of the house he felt a happy buzz wash over him. He could barely feel the cold nip of the air, and goosebumps raised all up along his arms.

He found his bike where he had discarded it on the grass lawn when he arrived. It was hard to see in the dark, especially with his head swimming, but he managed to pull his bike onto the road. The wind of the night air blew through his shaggy overgrown hair as it fell in his eyes. He biked down the eerily quiet streets of his hometown as the persistent aching in his chest eventually subsided, for the first time since it had arrived. No one was around, and his ears were filled with static due to the lack of sound - a sharp contrast from the thudding bass of the party.

He fell off his bike twice before he got home, and winced as his elbow got scratched up from the gravel. But instead of being frightened, he was elated, he couldn't really feel it. He snuck back into his room through the window he kept unlocked for that exact purpose, and made sure to be as quiet as possible, even though the motor functions in his hand were failing him and it took him multiple tries to get his window up.

He changed his clothes, noting how they smelled, and buried them deep into the bottom of his hamper so his Mom wouldn’t get suspicious. When he finally collapsed onto his bed he felt sated. He was warm, and the rocking of his bed from his head spinning as he closed his eyes lulled him to sleep.

It was probably the best sleep he’d gotten in years.

That was the start, but it wasn’t the beginning.

The beginning was not quite a year later, at the start of summer break. He was invited to a pool party by Mike’s friends. As soon as the sun went down they all changed out of their bathing suits and into t-shirts, and shorts. They relocated to Maddy’s basement - the girl who had been throwing the party. Harley was expecting the alcohol, and the weed. He’d gotten used to it by now, and even knew how to roll one of the best joints in town. He kept a stash in a sealed bag buried deep inside his nightstand that he would pull out and smoke in the backyard by the shed whenever things got overwhelming. Or, for when that well-known emptiness crept into his veins, that instead of making him angry, just made him sad, and desolate.

He was used to the weed, but the pills were something new. He was halfway through a joint that he had matched with a girl he vaguely recognized. She had introduced herself as “Tasha” when one of Mike’s friends stumbled over and sat down next to him. Harley passed the joint over to Tasha. His head was swimming pleasantly, and he grinned over at the guy who he was pretty sure was named Toby.

“Look what Jessica’s sister brought,” Toby said excitedly as he held up a baggy with a bunch of tiny perfectly round blue pills. “She’s like the fucking tooth fairy, I swear to God,” He crowed as he handed a pill to Harley and one to Tasha. Tasha glanced over at Harley nervously, and Harley didn’t say anything until Toby left, probably to go distribute the pills to the other partygoers.

Harley looked down at the pill he had clutched in his palm. It had a ‘5’ etched big in the center, with a smaller ‘325’ carved under it. Harley recognized the pills from health class. It was percocet.

Tasha finished the joint and then stubbed it out on a spare plate that everyone had been using as a makeshift ashtray. “I’m gonna go see what Josh is up to,” She told Harley in a small voice before handing him the pill she had been given. “I’m good with just weed.”

Harley nodded dumbly as he watched her scamper off. He took in the scene of the party going on around him as he stared at the now two pills in his hand. It felt like an old cartoon where there was an angel and devil sitting on his shoulder arguing over what he should do. He stared at it for entirely too long before he said, “Fuck it,” and swallowed one down dry. He tucked the other one into his weed grinder for safekeeping, figuring that even if he hated how it made him feel he could probably sell it to someone at school for a couple of dollars.

The next twenty minutes passed slowly as he waited anxiously for it to kick in, to see how it would feel. He didn’t feel anything for the first while and was gonna accuse Jessica’s sister of being an idiot and buying counterfeit pills when it started washing over him in waves. He went out to the back deck where the pool was, and where it was relatively empty. He sat down on the edge as his eyes went half-massed, and the ribbons of euphoria made their way through his bloodstream.

For a blissful while he didn’t feel anything. Nothing at all. He laid out flat, head facing the water, and started swirling circles in it with his pointer finger. He watched for what felt like hours as his finger caused ripples in the pool.

It wasn’t until later, much later, when Joey was helping him into his house quietly, because he was too fucked up to stand, that he pulled the grinder out of his pocket. He opened it once Joey had gone home and looked at the little pill inside of it. Harley didn’t understand alcohol, but he understood this. He would do anything to feel nothing again.

It wasn’t an all-or-nothing type beat, at least in the beginning. It was more gradual. As the low simmer of Harley’s misery built so did his coping mechanisms. It wasn’t until right after he turned 16 that he was sneaking out to parties every single weekend, coming back high, drunk, or sometimes something worse.

He bought from Jessica’s sister for a while until she left town. Then, he bounced around various dealers getting wildly different qualities. He tried a little bit of everything, and never turned down a pill if it was offered. He passed out in so many different basements he lost track. He could tell that his Mom was catching on to his worsening attitude and sunken eyes. Hell, even he had noticed the weight he had lost and how he was able to count most of his ribs without sucking in anymore. None of that mattered. All that mattered was how he could get rid of the emptiness inside of him, even if it was just for a night, or however long the drugs in his system lasted.

He got a job bagging groceries at the mini-mart downtown. Most of the people that he worked with were college burnouts who sold and did drugs whenever they weren’t showing up for a shift. He bought baggies of pills in the parking lot whenever he got off work with the money he made from his minimum wage. He knew that he couldn’t keep up the delicate balance forever, and eventually there would be a tipping of the scales.

It was a month before his 17th birthday when he ran out of money.

He needed a fix so bad that his hands were shaking and he could barely see straight. He had nearly crashed his bike 10 times on his way over to Tyler’s apartment. He wasn’t the best of dudes, but his shit was always pure, and Harley knew he could deliver.

Once Harley climbed up the steps he walked along the railing until he got to the door that led to Tyler’s apartment. He rang the doorbell as he fidgeted with his hoodie and dug his fingers into his palm so hard he nearly drew blood. When Tyler opened the door he followed him inside, chewing on his lip.

Tyler went back to his room as Harley waited anxiously in the foyer. He didn’t have any money, and he didn’t know what he was going to do. All he knew was that he needed another pill. He needed everything to stop. He bit his thumb as he waited for Tyler to come back out. After a few tense moments, Tyler came back out with a baggy full of familiar pills. He sat them down on the coffee table and glanced at Harley expectantly.

“I can pay you back next Friday. That’s when I get paid,” Harley told him, his tongue feeling thick in his mouth.

Tyler sucked on his teeth and grabbed the pills back up, before Harley had a chance to reach for them. “You still owe me for last time.”

Harley’s stomach dropped. “Right. I know that. Just- ... I can pay you back next week.”

Tyler shook his head. “And what’s in it for me?”

Harley’s eyes widened as he took in the setting of what was going on. “W-what do you mean?”

Tyler shrugged. “How bad do you want ‘em, kid?”

Harley bristled, and brought the sleeves of his hoodie down to hide his hands. He wanted to hide from the situation completely, but knew he’d be right back here tomorrow if he didn’t leave with the pills that he needed. “What do you want?”

“I heard you gave Colson head at the bonfire party a few months ago,” Tyler said, as Harley’s face burned. “You any good?”

Harley counted to 10 in his head. He thought about a lot of things in the time it took for him to count. He thought about his Mom, his Dad, and his sister. He thought about his one English teacher from the previous year who always had an absurd amount of faith in him and told him that he was capable of great things if he just put his mind to it. He thought briefly about Tony and his billions of dollars while here he was broke as shit and questioning his morals. He thought about Colson, who he’d had a crush on for a couple of months, who let him blow him at a party and then told him afterwards that he wasn’t gay, and that they probably shouldn’t do it again. Lastly, he thought about how shaky his hands were and how all of this would be over as soon as he got his hand on the pills. There were five in the baggy. If he paced himself he could last until next Friday when he got paid and he would never have to do this again.

With that resolve in mind, he closed his eyes and dropped to his knees.

| | |

When he left Tyler’s apartment he couldn’t stop wiping at his mouth, and how it felt dirty and raw. He got halfway down the street before he let his bike fall to the ground and bent over to wretch into the grass on the side of the road. He didn’t have much in his system so it was mostly just bile, but anything, literally anything, was better than the lingering taste of Tyler’s cum in his mouth that only served to remind him what he had let him do.

Once he gathered his wits back up, he was able to make it to the 7-Eleven that was only a few blocks away from his house. He parked his bike in the bike rack outside half in a daze, feeling like he was no longer inside his body. He went into the bathroom with his hood up, and made sure nobody else was inside. He wiped down the edge of the sink with soap, and dried it meticulously with the thin paper towels from the machine. He took one of the pills out of the baggie and smashed it until it was basically powder. He spread it with his finger into a line on the edge of the sink and snorted all of it in one go.

As soon as he did he felt the immediate head rush and stinging pain in his nasal cavity that made his eyes burn and well up with tears. He grabbed onto the sink for dear life as he took several deep breaths. He looked up and finally made eye contact with himself in the mirror. His hair was a messy tangle, and greasy, on top of his head. His eyes were bloodshot, and his nose was red, as well as his mouth, which looked rubbed raw. In a certain light, it could have been enticing, but Harley knew that he just really looked wrung out.

He glared at his reflection in the mirror until someone else walked into the bathroom. Harley froze in place and waited till the guy took his position at one of the far down urinals. “Whatever,” he whispered to his reflection as he turned around and left the bathroom, wiping at his nose with the bottom of his hoodie sleeve. The moment he reached his bike he felt it start to kick in and he breathed out a sigh of relief as the telltale rush he had gotten used to spread from his head down his shoulders, all the way to his toes as his chest flooded with warmth.

He just had to make it until next Friday, and then everything was going to be okay.

| | |

The thing was, Harley was a pretty angry person. He wasn’t angry all the time, but the slightest thing could set him off. He had a temper like his Dad, and it was always hard to stop himself from doing something rash, or impulsive. His Mom liked to say that he thought with his fists before his head. His anger was more like a low simmer, on a backburner constantly until something set him off and he snapped. It had only gotten worse since he started the pills, but so had everything in his life. He knew he had a problem, but that didn’t mean he wanted to stop.

Harley had been getting into fights at school for almost as long as he could remember. There was a day in elementary school where he had to wait outside the principal's office with a split lip and torn-up knuckles. He could hear his Mom crying through the door, he could hear her saying how tough it had been since Harley’s Dad had left and it made him feel awful. But, it also kind of just made him want to punch stuff more.

Kids at school were mean, but all kids who are growing are mean, and seem to have endless bouts of nasty shit to say. They picked on Harley because he was weird, and nerdy, and his Dad had left. There wasn’t even a divorce like some of the other kids in his class. He didn’t have elusive tales of two Christmases, or weekends at his Dad’s - all he eventually got was Tony Stark showing up in his garage when he was 9, before he fucked off just like everybody else. Sure, he had decked out his garage, but that didn’t mean much. Tony was a fucking billionaire, it was probably the equivalent of him giving a homeless kid on the street a 5 dollar bill.

Harley got better at learning how to deal with his anger. He also got better at not getting punched, and throwing his own. He learned how to hide bloody knuckles, or bloody noses, and only got pulled into the office a handful of times. They made him go to the school counselor and she said it was a coping mechanism; that the violence was a way for him to act out and ask for attention. Harley thought she was mostly a quack who didn’t actually give a shit about the kids she was supposed to be helping. The fighting had been self-defense, but the pills? He could admit that those were probably the coping mechanism.

Harley thought about his school counselor as he locked the door to his room and threw the baggy of pills that he had worked so hard for into his nightstand, under a pile of books he was supposed to be reading for class and knew he never would. He wondered what she would think of him now, or what he had done. He laughed mirthlessly at the picture of her horrified face as he told her that the school system had failed him, just like his Dad, and just like everybody fucking else.

Despite everything, his grades were good. Harley was smart. He knew he was smart, and that was half of his problem. He stopped having to try in school after the second week of 6th grade. He always showed up, and always finished his work though, even if he was working on his projects high out of his fucking mind. He usually wrote his best papers that way.

Sometimes, not often, but sometimes, he thought about his Dad. He thought about what his Dad would say to him and his pills. Maybe an outsider would draw parallels to him and his Father, from one addict to another. He wasn’t anything like his Father, though. Yeah, Harley had a problem, but he was still here, still doing the shit he was supposed to be doing. He was still a functioning member of society as far as he was concerned and hadn’t ran away as soon as things had gotten tough. His Father was a coward and that’s all he’d ever be.

Sometimes though, sometimes, in the dead of night when he was shaking and sweating from either a comedown, or withdrawal, he would try to discern if his Dad would be sad, if he even gave a shit at all. He wondered if he would be disappointed.

Whenever those thoughts took hold he would just text one of his friends to see if a party was going on, and there usually was. He’d smoke a joint, or take a pill that was offered and suddenly he’d forget all about the thoughts that had previously been consuming him.

But the thing about all of his anger is that he would gladly take it over the sadness. There was a hole inside of him. He wasn’t quite sure when it formed, but it was there. It threatened to consume him whole on nights he was alone and could only stare at the popcorn ceiling of his bedroom. The only time when he didn’t feel empty was when he had some chemical pumping through his veins. So that became his thing.

He couldn’t ignore though, how it was hurting everyone he loved. Abbie and his Mom never said anything, but sometimes it was like they knew. They would give him a look with their sad eyes like they wanted to help him, like they somehow had the capability to heal him. When he came home on certain nights, pupils blown and speech slurred, his Mom would look at him like he was his Father.

Maybe he was slowly becoming his Father.

Either way, it hurt, and he couldn’t stop. The only thing that didn’t hurt anymore was the dizzying rush he got whenever he snorted the pills that he had come to love so much.

There was one night that Harley could remember. He had slammed his bike on the front porch a little hard, and had made a little too much noise coming in through the window of his bedroom. He was high as shit and the world was thick, but buzzing around him. He changed out of his jeans into an undershirt, his hands fumbling and not working right, like they were no longer connected to his brain. When he finally finished his task he stumbled out into the hallway to go to the bathroom before he could pass out for school in the morning.

As soon as he got to the door of the bathroom he could hear his Mom talking in the living room, and he froze. Her voice was muffled, but he could still make out what she was saying. It sounded like she was on the phone with someone, which wouldn’t be an unusual occurrence for her, especially at this time of the night. It always made Harley smile whenever he would come home and she would be gabbing excitedly with one of her girlfriends, or spilling town gossip. This time, however, Harley could tell she wasn’t chatting with her friends.

“He’s just been so withdrawn. I know he sneaks out of the house almost every night and I don’t know if I should let him have his freedom or be concerned.” Harley heard her say, her voice sapped, and weary. “He’s so bright. You know that. I’m worried that’s going to be what gets him.” She paused for a while, so someone else on the phone must have said something. Harley took that time to let his head fall against the door of the bathroom.

Harley had a feeling the conversation was about him and it made him sick. His fuzzy brain was taking in all the words she was saying and knew that he didn’t want her to feel that way. He didn’t want her to worry. But he also couldn’t stop. His brain was whirring all the time and the only thing that ever gave him peace; a fucking reprieve, stopped the voice in his head - the one that sounded like his Father, the one that told him he was a waste of space, that he was nothing - were the pills that he took, or snorted, whichever was easier, or quicker, really. At least when he was high he was a good nothing.

“No, I know. And he’s so good sometimes. He’ll be happy and chatty, and he’s always been so good with Abbie...it could just be a teenager thing. Sometimes I’m just at a loss. I know he needs something, but I don’t know what that is.”

The world to stop turning, Harley thought, with a sudden flash of vengeance. If there was one thing he could write on his Christmas list it would be for the world to stop turning, and for him to stop breathing. But that would definitely cause his Mom more concern and he didn’t want that.

He didn’t want to listen to the conversation anymore, so he made sure to open the bathroom door obviously, and took a few stomping steps inside, hitting his hand on the counter in the process, that way she would be alerted to his presence in the hallway.

He couldn’t make out her voice after that.

Harley stared at his face in the mirror. He took in his red eyes, pupils swallowing his irises, skin pale and sickly. At one point he might have been something to look at, with sweeping blonde hair, and a crooked grin that his Mom used to always pinch and say was her favorite.

He didn’t look like that anymore.

He didn’t even look like himself anymore. His outside finally matched his inside - a hollow shell of someone pretending to be a person.

When he got out of the bathroom his Mom was no longer on the phone, and he couldn’t pretend to be anything other than absolutely exhausted, so he shuffled into his room and fell back onto his bed. He played the words she had said on the phone call over and over again in his head until he fell asleep.

| | |

Harley was smart, brilliant, actually, that was the thing. School was a breeze, but he knew that even though he kept his grades up, every time he snuck back in through his bedroom window his Mom was disappointed in him. He knew that she had no idea what he was doing, but she also wasn’t stupid, and somehow knew he was close to doing something that would throw his life away.

If only she knew that this was the only way he could keep on living. If only she knew he probably would have slit his wrists in the bathroom if those tiny little blue pills hadn’t kept him company, and drove away all the malicious clawing thoughts that flickered through his brain constantly.

Harley had an affinity for building things. He also had an affinity for hacking, which would have been worrisome if he wasn’t good enough to hardly ever get caught. After he burned his bridges with Tyler he started exploring his other options. Hacking into the local hospital’s database was so easy it was almost laughable.

He quickly learned it was going to be a dead-end because they kept all their opioids in a Pill-O-Matix which was an automatic drug dispenser that used doctors’ credentials to unlock it. Even if Harley could somehow bypass it he would have to disable the security cams, and it wasn’t something he could do on a regular basis. It wasn’t worth it.

After that, he did some digging into his local pharmacy, but that was mostly a dead end as well. Their computer systems were out of date, but most of their pill tracking was manual, as it was a tiny small-town pharmacy. If any of their opioids went missing they would surely be noticed.

So Harley started bouncing around dealers again. He knew it was dangerous. But the hole inside of him was just as, if not more dangerous, so he knew what he had to do. He got shitty pills from freshmen with older siblings that dealt; who didn’t know the worth of what they were selling. On one occasion he got a set of pills of oxy that were cut with speed that made his heart race and he felt like he was having a low-grade heart attack for hours.

He didn’t want to be this way - a junkie. But he found something that worked when nothing else had. He could feel himself getting worse and worse and knew rock bottom was just around the corner. But he couldn’t stop. He didn’t know if it was a sick desire to actually hit rock bottom and to see what that felt like, or if his own self-control had finally waned to a point of no return.

It all came to a head a week before his high school graduation.

Graduation parties were popping up all over the place, and Harley wasn’t about to miss any of them. It wasn’t so much that he wanted to see his friends (friends that he could barely even call friends anymore because he didn’t really talk to anyone who wasn’t going to eventually sell him drugs).

It wasn’t even that he wanted to have a nostalgic cry fest with all the people who had tortured him his entire adolescence. He just wanted to get as smashed as possible so he could forget everything. Then he wouldn’t have to think about college, which he couldn’t afford, or all of the stress that came with being on the cusp of adulthood.

He could tell that something was off as soon as he took the first pill. He got high quicker than usual, and he also felt higher than what was normal. He relished the buzz, every second of it, and used his impairment as an excuse as to why he took another one, and another one once it was offered. He was never one to turn down free drugs. By the time the third one kicked in he could barely walk outside. He must have fallen on the grass lawn because one minute he was looking at the driveway that led to the house, and the next minute he was blinking up at the night sky.

He didn’t even realize that he was puking until someone was rolling him over with a bruising grip on his arms and back. The bile that had been clogging his throat rose and fell out of his mouth as he heaved and heaved. He puked into the grass for what felt like ages until he tried to focus his eyes and could only make out a vague blob of a person standing over him.

“Fuck, Harley,” he could hear the voice saying, but it was distant. It sounded like they were crying, but he couldn’t figure out why they would be crying. Harley opened his mouth to speak but when he did he only choked on bile once again until he was forced to spit it out in the grass.

A loud ringing was in his ears and all the talking he could hear was muffled and unintelligible. He started shivering violently and couldn’t stop. The hand that was holding him reached for something in the pocket of his jeans but Harley could barely feel it. He came back to himself enough to glance over with glassy eyes and recognized the person as Joey. Fuck. He shouldn’t be seeing him like this.

Joey had a phone pressed to his ear, and Harley tried to piece all the details together to figure out what was going on but it was hard to think. All he could feel was the sudden pounding in his head and how his whole body ached in a way that made him feel like he had just been run over by a semi.

It could’ve been hours later, or only a few minutes, time was passing weird for Harley. But suddenly he was seeing his Mom. She was pale as a ghost as her face floated in front of him, blocking his view of the night sky. “Mom?” Harley said, not quite believing what was in front of him. Just saying those words scratched against his raw throat and suddenly Harley was so, so tired. All he wanted to do was go to sleep and never wake up.

“Harley, baby.” His Mom said, her cool hands pressed against his face. He was burning up. When did that happen? “What did you take? We need to know what you took.”

“I didn’t take anything,” Harley mumbled out, his words barely coming out as sounds or words. His Mom must have understood because her face turned thunderous.

“What did you take!” She yelled, her voice turning shrill as she screamed. Harley winced and his eyes fell shut until someone was shaking him, causing him to blearily open his eyes again. His Mom and Joey were like little pale-faced moons over his head as he could hardly make out the details of their faces, or why they were looking at him like that, or why they were so concerned. Couldn’t Harley just go to sleep?

“...hospital,” He heard his Mom say distantly. Then jerkily he was being pulled up by two pairs of hands until he was upright. The movement jostled him and his head fell back painfully like a rag doll. The sudden motion caused him to start puking again, and he bent over and heaved on an empty stomach which only made his throat feel like it had been hacked at with razor blades. Every inch of his body hurt.

He didn’t realize he had been put into a car until he was laying in the backseat while Joey held his head, probably to make sure he didn’t choke on his own vomit again. This was one of his worst nightmares. He could hardly think but suddenly he was stuck in a spiral of guilt so strong that it choked him even further. He could taste the bile he had been throwing up all over his mouth and tongue, and could hear his Mom crying from the front seat.

He was so sorry.

Nobody should be seeing him like this. All he wanted was to go home and pretend like none of this was even happening.

“I’m sorry,” Harley said, even though it was hard for him to talk. He wasn’t sure if he was talking to his Mom, Joey, or possibly both. “I’m sorry,” he kept saying in between the tears that were rolling down his cheeks. “I’m so sorry.”

That was the last thing he remembered before he fell asleep.

| | |

When Harley woke up he was in a brightly lit hospital, and was lying in a bed. He had various wires hooked to his arms and he felt like death warmed over. Once he was able to blink through the blinding lights and focus on the room he noticed Abbie and Mom, both sound asleep in their own respective guest chairs. A lump formed in his throat as it settled in his bones what had happened.

| | |

After his Mom woke up they fought for what felt like hours. Eventually, it led to her crying as she said she didn’t know what to do. The pills Harley had taken at the party had been laced with fentanyl, and they had caused him to OD. The doctors had told her that he showed signs of having a long-term opioid addiction and would have to go through detox before he would be released. Harley had denied it vehemently until his Mom had told him to cut the bullshit.

In the time that it had taken him to recover he had missed graduation, and hadn’t been able to walk across the stage like the rest of his classmates. Harley pretended that it didn’t sting.

It was clear that his Mother didn’t know what to do with him, and Harley didn’t know what hurt worse, the fact that she looked at him differently now, or the fact that he had hurt her so deeply. It wasn’t until he went through the detox with gritted teeth and false promises that he would stay clean that he knew nobody really believed, that he was able to go home.

When Harley got to his room, he stopped short in the doorway and stared. All of his stuff had been packed up into bags that were sitting on his bed. He turned to look at his Mom, who was only a few feet behind him, with betrayal and fear. Was she kicking him out?

Instead of answering him right away, her eyes trained on a picture that was hung up in the hallway, just a little ways down from the entryway to Harley’s bedroom. It was a baby picture of him. His blonde hair was platinum then, but still tangled at the top of his head like a bird's nest, and he had a wide smile on his face that was completely toothless and all gums. He could see the tears welling in his Mom’s eyes as she turned back to face him.

“When you first mentioned that you wanted to take a gap year I got in touch with Tony. He gave me his number years ago and said to call if we ever needed him. Honestly, I wasn’t sure if the number was still going to work. I thought it might do you good to go and see him.” Her voice trembled then, “Lord knows he has more resources than I do.” A tear trickled down her cheek, but she continued. “I know you’re not happy here, baby. You haven’t been happy for a while, and I don’t...I don’t know what to do.”

Harley tried to let her words sink in, but they weren’t making any sense. “Since when does Tony give a shit about me?”

“Oh sweetie,” His Mom said, eyes sad. “He’s always been keeping tabs on you. He wants what’s best for you.” She seemed to gather herself together then, and her voice was less wobbly when she said, “I think a change of scenery will do you good. You have a flight to New York tomorrow morning, so you should probably get some rest.”

Harley balled his hands into fists at his sides and glared at the bags that had been packed for him. He was a problem who was being shipped off to New York because his Mom no longer knew how to handle him. He wasn’t sure what Tony fucking Stark was going to be able to do for him. The fact that he had been keeping up with Harley and how he was doing hit him as a shock because he genuinely thought that the man had forgotten about him, or at least, didn’t care for him anymore. He didn’t know how to handle the information that not only did Tony in fact care about him, but cared about him enough to open his home to him and want to help him.

“And what if I don’t want to go to New York?” Harley tested, because he always had to push.

His Mom only pursed her lips sadly. “It’s not negotiable.” She closed his door then, he guessed to give him a semblance of privacy. Not like it mattered, he was sure his room had been cleaned of all his stashes, and all his shit was packed up anyway.

Harley punched his pillow repeatedly, and screamed into it a few times before he ended up curled up in his bed and staring unblinkingly at the wall. If he was miserable in Tennessee he doubted New York was going to be much better.

Thanks for reading! This fic means so much to me and I can’t wait to hear the response to it, and post more :)

#Parkner #Drowning Lessons #Fic #Chapter One #Parkner Euphoria Fic #Graphic Drug Usage #Harley Keener #Peter Parker #Keenker #Parley #Harley/Peter #Harley Keener/Peter Parker

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the-modernmary · 3 years

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my best habit || aaron hotchner x reader (ch. 7)

Chapter summary: Your best friend confronts you about your revived relationship with Aaron and how much things have changed from two years ago when you run into the BAU at a bar.

A/N: This chapter is definitely not my finest work, but we get some background on Hotch and reader. The part that is italicized is a flashback.

masterlist || read on ao3

Don't you want to take time and get to love me? We could build a perfect world I got tricks I really want to show you I could be your perfect girl - Wolf Alice, “Your Love's Whore"

~~~~~~~

“Okay, I can’t deal with this anymore. I have to say something.”

You looked up from your textbook to see the disappointed stare of your best friend, Aly, from the other side of the bar. She worked as a bartender, so sometimes you would hang out with her while she was working, maybe do some homework, and she would give you drinks with the employee discount price.

The two of you had been best friends since you were in middle school. When your mom died and your dad went back to prison, you were originally supposed to be shipped off to live with an aunt in another state that you had never met before, but Aly’s parents decided to claim legal guardianship over you, allowing you to live with them. From then on, you and Aly had become inseparable, even following each other to college.

You snorted softly and took a sip from your drink. “Oh boy, this should be interesting,” you said sarcastically, and Aly rolled her eyes as she tossed the bar towel over her shoulder.

“You are acting way too casual about the whole Aaron thing.” You groaned, but she didn’t give you a chance to speak up. “He just shows up out of the blue after two years, and you dive right back in, head first, and act like nothing changed? You’re not even going to ask him what happened?”

You sighed. You knew that this was going to be a conversation that Aly was going to have with you at some point, and you were actually a little surprised that it took her a full month before saying anything, but that didn’t mean you liked it. “Yeah, because the murder of his ex-wife and the attempted murder of his son makes great pillow talk. No, I haven’t talked to him about that.” You rolled your eyes as you finished the rest of your drink. “And I don’t need to. The only reason you’re making this a big deal is because you don’t like Aaron.”

She stared at you in disbelief. “Don’t like him? Babe, how can I have any opinion on him if I don’t know him? I didn’t even know that you were sleeping with him until you called me crying because you thought-”

“I really don’t want to have this conversation,” you cut her off, and you pushed your empty glass towards her, wordlessly asking for a refill. You didn’t want to go through those memories right now. Or ever, if you could help it. “I don’t need to know everything about his life. It’s not like we’re getting married.”

Aly raised an eyebrow at you as she started to make you another drink. “Maybe not, but do you want to? Do you want an actual relationship?”

“No!” you said, too quickly and too defensively, but it was true. You liked what you had with Aaron, all of the benefits and fun parts of dating somebody without any of the responsibilities. But you understood where Aly was coming from.

If there were such a thing as “Build-A-Boyfriend”, and if you were being completely honest with yourself, your ideal partner would probably be a lot like Aaron. More age appropriate perhaps, less baggage for sure, and most likely with a different job, one that didn’t slowly chip away at his soul until he became a shell of a man.

But somebody determined and focused like him. With a soft side like his, and the same dry sense of humor as him. A person you could talk to for hours, who sees you and pushes you towards greatness. Maybe even somebody who makes you feel special because they can only ever relax and be carefree around you. Somebody who just wants to do good in the world and who cares.

Somebody like that.

Aly opened her mouth to say something, but it quickly closed it as she looked at the entrance. “Damn, there’s a group coming in. Okay, I actually have to do my job now. But we will talk about this later.”

You started to tease her until you caught sight of the said group walking in. “Shit,” you hissed under your breath, turning your back towards the door and praying they didn’t see you. “We summoned them.”

Aly looked at you in confusion. “Y/N, what-”

“That’s Aaron and his team,” you whispered, although it didn’t matter much, “and will you please stop staring?”

A gasp left Aly’s mouth and, in true best friend fashion, she didn’t stop staring. Despite Penelope’s invitation a week earlier, you had been able to avoid going out with the BAU team. It wasn’t that you didn’t like them - you actually really liked being around them - but it would have made things way too complicated with Aaron. He compartmentalized even more than you. “Which one is he?” she asked excitedly, and you had to reach over the bar to get her to turn around.

“You’re going to draw so much attention to yourself,” you hissed, and the two of you started to frantically talk over each other.

“Because I want to know which one-”

“- Tell you later -”

“- have to at least take their order -”

“- Really don’t want to see them -”

“- Coming over here now -”

“Hey Y/N!”

You grimaced to yourself before turning around on the barstool, forcing a smile. Penelope was the one who greeted you, but the rest of the BAU had made their way to where you were sitting. The looks they were giving you unsettled you, like they all knew something you didn’t, but you decided to chalk it up to nervousness. Aaron, however, was standing in the back and looking about as mortified as you felt.

“Hey guys,” you said, stretching out each word. You weren’t drunk enough for this. “Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world…”

“Casablanca,” Spencer noted out loud.

Aly smirked and leaned against the bar. “Y/N, are you going to introduce me to all of your FBI friends?”

You had to fight the urge to glare at her, because you knew what she was doing. She wanted you to introduce her to Aaron, but she was just going to have to wait. “Aly, this is the BAU team. BAU team, this is Aly.”

Aly pouted at you but surprisingly said nothing else. You weren’t sure if you were grateful for that or if it just made you more nervous.

Emily looked at the open textbook that was long forgotten next to you. “Are you studying at a bar?” she asked, amusement evident in her voice. “I thought only Reid did that.”

You shrugged and closed the textbook. “I was studying, but I gave up on that about an hour ago,” you admitted.

“Good!” Penelope said excitedly. “Because if you’re not studying, then you can join us!”

Your eyes flicked nervously to Aaron, whose face was completely unreadable. You wanted him to give you some sign of what he thought would be the best, but he just stared at you, stoic as ever. The conversation that you had with Aly was playing on repeat in your mind, making you feel sick. You didn’t care about Aaron’s past. You couldn’t care.

“Oh, I don’t want to intrude,” you settled on.

“It’s no intrusion at all,” Rossi piped up, and you and Aaron both stiffened. Rossi knew about you and Aaron, so the fact that he was encouraging you to mingle with the rest of the group was a bad sign. “And besides, drinks are on me tonight.”

Aly laughed from behind the bar. “If that’s the case, then she is definitely joining you guys so that she can stop mooching off my employee discount without even tipping me.”

So just like that, it was settled. You grumbled something about always tipping as you grabbed your drink and your textbook before following the group to a large corner booth. You didn’t miss the smirks each of the team members was throwing your way, and you definitely noticed that they left the only open seat next to Aaron. The two of your exchanged tight-lipped smiles as you slid into the empty space, careful not to touch Aaron. This was partly because you wanted to keep a calm and collected exterior, even if the team did know about you and Aaron - which you had started to suspect.

It was also partly because the idea of being Aaron’s dirty little secret right in front of his coworkers was too tempting, and you already had 2 long island iced teas, so you did not trust your self-control.

“So Y/N,” JJ started, breaking you out of your thoughts. You had hoped, maybe naively, that they would just ignore you and let you observe for the night. “Does Aly go to law school with you?”

You laughed despite yourself and you shook your head. “God, no. Although, she did take the LSAT with me so that even if I totally bombed it, I wouldn’t have the worst score.”

“What did you get on it?” Spencer asked, and you saw Aaron perk up slightly at the question.

“A 174,” you beamed.

“Look at you go! You’re like our own personal Elle Woods!” Penelope praised, and your heart swelled at the use of the word “our”, like you were already a part of the group.

“I wish,” you chuckled. “But that brilliant bitch got a 179.”

A simultaneous “Who?” came from both Spencer and Aaron.

“From Legally Blonde?” you prompted, but were met with more confused stares. “The greatest lawyer movie of all time?” They shook their heads again. “Okay, you both need to watch it, it’s a classic. Miss Woods was quite literally the only reason I was able to get through my first year.”

Well, that and fucking Aaron every chance you got, but they didn’t need to know that.

You heard a gasp come from Penelope. “We should do another movie night! We haven’t had one of those in a while.”

Emily laughed and nudged Penelope softly. “Do you not remember the fiasco we had last time we did a movie night? We almost burnt down Rossi’s house.”

Laughter erupted from the table as multiple parties started to talk over each other, and you were happy to slide into the background, making little quips when the conversation called for it. The most surprising part of the whole night was how easily you got along with the BAU group, and how much they seemed to like you. Less surprising, however, was how acutely aware you were of Aaron’s thigh, which was now pressed against your own.

Aaron had stayed completely silent since the time the team walked up to you, and you could only imagine what was going on in his head. This whole situation was probably a living nightmare for him, and you couldn’t say you blamed him. Your choice to keep Aaron a secret from your friends was just that - a personal choice. You didn’t want them to fuss over you or put delusions in your head of a future with Aaron. You wanted to be able to enjoy your privacy.

But the implications for Aaron were much more severe, especially now that you were actually working at the FBI. People would start to question his judgment, whether or not he was fit for his job. They would question if he had taken advantage of you or manipulated you, and that would all be before they even found out that the two of you were sleeping together years ago. He could very possibly be seen as just a high ranking government official who was sneaking around with a girl almost 20 years his junior.

In other words, it would look really, really bad for him. You downed the rest of your drink in one go.

Aaron raised his eyebrows as he watched your actions, his gaze heavy. His eyes ran up and down your body, and you could feel yourself start to overheat. He felt much closer than he was. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you noticed that the rest of the team had scattered among the bar - some playing pool, some ordering more drinks, and some in the bathroom - which left you and Aaron alone in the booth. There was enough room that he didn’t need to have his leg pressed up against you, and he definitely didn’t need to bring his hand down to your knee, but he did.

“So, a 174? Impressive.”

“Mhm,” you mused, keeping your voice casual. “Does that surprise you?”

“Not at all,” he responded, no hesitation in his voice.

His response didn’t surprise you much, but you preened at the compliment all the same. You wanted people, especially Aaron, to think of you as effortlessly successful and to be impressed by you. So you didn’t show them the countless hours spent in the library, and the many all nighters you pulled. You were careful to only show people the parts of you that you could brag about, like your class rankings or debates on subjects you were an expert in, so that it looked like it came naturally to you. So you didn’t look like you were struggling.

Part of that came after your mom died. You didn’t want everybody fussing over you and treating you like you were breakable, so you quickly decided to show that you were independent. If you didn’t give people a reason to worry about you, they’d leave you alone.

The other part of that came during law school. You knew yourself enough to realize that it was probably because of Aaron, and how much he rubbed off on you. You wanted to be engaging like him, to be able to completely command a room without even saying a word like him. You wanted success like him. Aaron noticed that early on and challenged you. He let you debate with him just so that you could practice going against somebody smarter and more experienced than you. And it paid off.

~~~~~~~

You stared at the email on your phone, your cheeks sore from how much you were smiling. You had already told all of your friends, but their reaction wasn’t as satisfying as you wanted. They were ecstatic for you, but realistically, you only wanted the approval of one person.

Your thumb hovered over Aaron’s contact in your phone, debating on whether or not to call him. This could probably be a text, but Aaron was so formal when texting, even when dirty texts were involved. Besides, you wanted to hear Aaron’s approval, and even more than that, you wanted his attention. Even if it was just for a minute or two, you wanted his attention in the middle of a weekday, something you never got.

Before you could talk yourself out of it, you hit the call button and brought the phone up to your ear.

“Aaron Hotchner,” came the greeting, formal as ever.

“Aaron, hi,” you started, and you were happy that Aaron couldn’t see the way you were nervously tugging the hem of your shirt.

There was a beat of silence. “Y/N,” he said, surprise evident in his voice. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything is great! I, uh…” You realized that you didn’t have a good explanation to give to Aaron as to why you were calling him while he was at work. “Is this a good time?”

You could hear light footsteps on the other side of the phone, followed by the soft click of a door closing. “That depends on the subject matter,” he mused, his voice lowering.

All the nervousness you felt melted away. “I made law review!” you blurted excitedly. “I just got the email and I didn’t have anybody else to tell. And God knows you’ve helped edit my papers enough, so I figured I’d share this with you.”

You wished that you could have seen Aaron’s face. You wanted to know if he was smiling, or if he looked proud. In hindsight, telling him in person probably would have been more rewarding.

“I knew you’d get it,” he told you sincerely. “Automatic or write on?”

“Automatic,” you told him proudly.

“Congratulations, Y/N. That’s a big deal. I’m sure you’re going to celebrate tonight. It’s Bar Review night, right?”

You hummed to yourself, attempting to calm your nerves. You dropped your voice, adding a more seductive tone. “Actually… I was hoping that maybe I could be rewarded for all my hard work? Please?”

He hadn’t said no to you yet, and you doubted today would be any different.

Aaron chuckled, low and dark. “Mhm, since you asked so nicely…” His voice trailed off, and you could practically hear him stiffen up. “But I can’t tonight.”

”Oh.” He didn't elaborate, and doesn’t have to. If it were for a case, he would have told you. When he didn’t say anything, that meant it was a Haley and Jack thing. Still, you couldn’t help but note the disappointment that bled into his words.

“Are you busy this weekend?” he asked, his voice soft. “We could meet in Baltimore. Same hotel. I can make reservations now.”

For the second time that day, you smiled so wide that your cheeks hurt. Attention was what you wanted, and attention was what you got. “Baltimore sounds good. Send me the details.”

~~~~~~~

You mindlessly stirred the ice in your empty glass with the straw, listening to the soft clinking. “What about you? What did you get on your LSAT?”

Aaron thought about it for a second. “A 176. I think.”

A bitter chuckle left your lips and you turned in your seat just enough so that you could face Aaron. You were so close to him that, even in the dark lighting of the bar, you could make out every feature on his face. “Christ, and here I was thinking I could out-lawyer you,” you teased.

Aaron took a sip of his drink — double scotch neat. “I’ve seen the way you like to argue with me. Don’t worry, I wouldn’t want to go up against you in court,” he scoffed.

“Hm, yeah but you like it when I argue with you,” you pointed out, leaning in closer to him. “Because then you get to shut me up.”

Aaron set his drink down on the table, his face never betraying any sort of emotion. “Come over tonight,” he told you, his voice lowering. The hand that was on your knee slowly trailed up your thigh, his fingers leaving goosebumps in their wake.

You smirked, deciding to mess with him a little. “Presumptuous of you to assume I don’t already have plans after this.” You didn’t, and Aaron knew that. He somehow always knew.

In spite of that, he decided to indulge your teasing. “Cancel them.” It wasn’t a suggestion, and he punctuated his demand by squeezing your thigh. “I can help you study later.”

That was all the convincing you needed. You slipped out of the booth, ready to pull him straight out of the bar, but his face gave you pause. “Meet me at my car in two minutes,” he told you firmly, and you nodded obediently and sat back down.

You watched him start to walk out of the bar, only to be stopped by Emily and Derek. You watched as the three of them talked, Aaron's whole body tensing. There was a lull in the conversation before the three of them looked over at you, Emily and Derek trying to hide their drunken smiles.

They knew. They had to know. It’s not like you and Aaron were being subtle. In some part of your subconscious, you were sure that they knew long before tonight, and that this was just a confirmation. Still, you didn’t know how Aaron was going to react. You thought that Aaron was going to deny it, or even end things with you right there. Besides that one office-sex slip up, Aaron had been so careful about keeping you a secret from his professional life, even going as far as asking you to not call his office phone. In a shocking turn of events, he just smiled and gave you a small nod before making his way towards the door.

Figuring that you didn’t need to wait the two minutes anymore, you started to head towards the exit, blushing as you went. You could feel everybody’s eyes on you the whole time, but when you looked around, none of them seemed to be judging you. If anything, they seemed… happy? You were just about to reach the doors when Penelope cut you off.

“Does this mean you’ll start having lunch with me in the Batcave?” she said excitedly, not even needing to preface her question. They all knew.

“Whenever I get a chance,” you promised.

Penelope reached down to grab your hands, covering them both with hers. “Good! It can get lonely when they’re all off saving the world.”

“Hey Penelope,” you started, pursing your lips nervously. “Is this thing with Aaron and I… is it okay? I don’t want to make things weird for your team.”

Penelope gave you a sympathetic look and shook her head quickly, like even the very act of bringing it up made her sad. “Of course it’s okay! Hotch is happier than we’ve seen him in a long time, and that’s all we want for him. He’s a good guy who has just been through too much. But if he gives you any problems, you come straight to us. You’re one of us now.”

Then, without any warning, Penelope pulled you into the tightest hug you’ve ever gotten. You could smell her perfume, something floral and sweet. “Thank you,” you said as she let you go.

“Oh no, thank you,” she retorted, grinning. “Now you go have fun.”

You laughed and walked out of the bar, making your way to the parking lot. Part of you was still worried about Aaron’s reaction to knowing the secret was out.

But when you saw Aaron leaning against his car, and you saw his smile when he looked up to see you, all your fears were assuaged. “Who ambushed you?” he called from across the parking lot, his voice light.

“Penelope,” you admitted, and he nodded unsurprised as he opened the passenger side door for you.

You buckled your seatbelt and watched as Aaron made his way into the driver's seat and loosened his tie. “Are you okay with them knowing?” you asked nervously.

Aaron was quiet as he started the car, so quiet that you thought that maybe he didn’t even hear you. It wasn’t until the car pulled out of the parking lot that he spoke. “Yes,” he told you, and it truly seemed like he meant it. Then, as a joke, he added, “Although, I reserve the right to change my mind after seeing them at work tomorrow.”

“What?” you teased. “You’re not going to spill all of the dirty details to your coworkers?”

Aaron laughed and fuck if that wasn’t the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard. “I thought you needed to study.”

You shrugged and leaned over the center console just far enough to press a kiss to his jaw. “I do. So you better make it worth my time,” you purred into his ear, smirking as you watched his knuckles turn white from clenching the steering wheel. “Or you can get me off while I study?”

You thought back to what Aly had said about whether things changed between you and Aaron. On paper, everything had changed. There was no need for secrecy or sneaking around anymore. You wouldn’t need to travel an hour outside of the city just to be seen with each other in public. The unspoken rules were going to change, considering the two of you had broken pretty much all of them already. Aaron had changed, and so had you. It was impossible for it to be the same as it was two years ago.

But as you sat in the passenger’s seat of his car, Aaron grinning devilishly at you, you couldn’t help but think that at its core, nothing really changed.

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x y/n #criminal minds fanfiction #my writing #my best habit

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colourscat · 3 years

Text

please be mine

Akutagawa doesn’t hate Valentine’s Day, if anything, he would simply say he is indifferent to it. Throughout his entire life he has never had a reason to celebrate the holiday; when he was younger and him and Gin lived in the slumps the holiday never even as much as crossed his mind, but even after then when he joined the Port Mafia the idea of celebrating sucha banal holiday seemed ridiculously childish to him, as he clearly had much more important stuff going around him. But that was before.

Before a flurry of sunset eyes and silver hair entered his life. This year, no matter how much he tried to forget about it, how much he tried to pretend he didn't care for it, it seemed like he couldn’t escape it. Everywhere he went he would be faced with annoyingly bright red and pink decorations and the sickening smell of too-sweet chocolate that all the stores were now apparently selling. He wanted to pretend to hate it, to be able to look at the displays showing off couple gifts and scoff with a roll of the eyes at all those stupid couples who were willing to spend thier money on obviously overpriced bouquets that would rot within a date, but he couldn’t.

Instead, he would find himself imagining the different scenarios that might arise if he were to present Atsushi with such a gift, would he like the flowers? Would he blush? Would he look at Akutagawa with that soft smile of his that makes his eyes squint just so? Maybe he would enjoy it a bit too much, launching himself to hug Akutagawa as certain as always that the older male would catch him. His body would be pressed close to his own, Atsushi’s mouth right next to Akutagawa’s ears making it so that he can feel every small breath that escapes his lips.

( Akutagawa has to stop his imagination there, his mouth too dry and his pants too tight for such a public place. )

Sometimes he finds it funny to think about the past, to remember the days where he wanted nothing more than to kill Jinko, his mere existence a reminder of what he failed to achieve. But even then, there was an undeniable spark between them, a sort of compulsion to keep him close, to observe him. At the time he used to tell himself that this was nothing more than the fascination a predator feels against his prey, nothing more than the instinct of fight and competition. Even then it was obvious how he felt.

They became closer when the Port Mafia and ADA reached a sort of truce, they would leave each other alone and when needed, they would provide support for each other. This truce, however, meant that Atsushi and Akutagawa ended up spending a lot more time together. Even if they hated each other’s guts, it was obvious to everyone how well they worked together, how much they made the other shine, so they were routinely assigned joint missions and from there a sort of trust built up between them. The change in their dynamic was soft and gradual (his hatred for the other boy beginning to mellow out into something else), until it wasn't.

It happened during one of their missions. They had severely underestimated their enemy, thinking that this would be a simple stake-out, but it turns out they had been deceived and the enemy was waiting for them. As always, Atsushi wasted no time heading into the attack, he acted rashly and irrationally leaving himself open to all sorts of attacks. It all happened so fast, someone has slipped past Akutagawa and was heading towards him ( he could feel their bloodlust, the intent to kill more than obvious), and before he was even able to react, Atsushi was in front of him, protecting him from the blow that was coming his way.

No matter how much he tries to remember what happened after that, he simply cannot, all he knows is that he wasted no time to retaliate; attacking person after person mercilessly leaving no one unharmed. He remembers an overwhelming feeling of desperation, the image of Atsushi on the ground blood pouring from his stomach flashing behind his eyes, his chest feeling as if it were going to rip open much like the man he was trying to protect.

Once the mission was over (once Atsushi was safe) he realised he was pissed. He was beyond angry at the recklessness and selflessness Atsushi continued to fight with. He felt violent and unsettled and so, so worried.

‘Akutagawa.’ Silence. He was not ready to look at him, let alone talk.

‘Akutagawa please talk to me.’ Atsushi was louder this time, his tone bordering on pleading, but a hint of annoyance was still present. A moment passed and finally, Atsushi seemed to snap.

‘I don't even understand why you are so angry at me. We accomplished our mission, nothing happened.’ At this Akutagawa could no longer contain his anger, his eye quickly moving towards the younger man, a sharp glare pointing at him.

‘Nothing happened? Are you fucking stupid Jinko? You nearly died, you were bleeding out on the ground right in front of me!’ He finally shouted, letting out the fear he had been feeling since the moment Atsushi had been hurt.

‘And why do you care? Don’t you want to kill me anyways? What difference does it make if I die now or later, it doesn’t matter if I get hurt as long as we accomplish what we need to.’

Throughout the conversation Atsushi had been sitting down, resting for a while before they headed back to their respective home, but now he was standing close to Akutagawa (so close that he could feel the warmth coming from him) almost pushing him against the wall as he pointed out his hypocrisy. And he was right. Why did Akutagawa even care? He had told himself so many times that he hated the weretiger and had sworn himself to destroy him, so why was he getting so agitated?

He was feeling so out of control and confused and desperate, he had never felt this way before and he didn’t quite know how to confront it. There was also the fact that Atsushi was so close to him, they had never been so pressed up against each other and now Akutagawa could notice all these details about him, like the fact he likely hadn’t shaved in the past few days or that he had a little freckle right next to his right eye. Despite the fact that he smelled like blood and sweat, there was still an underlying scent that was so Atsushi that it made Akutagawa;s breath get stuck in his throat.

All of these feelings were bubbling up inside him until he could no longer take it anymore, so he kissed him. It was angry and rough; teeth clashing each other and hands viciously gripping each other. He doesn’t quite know how it happened, but at some point they had ended up back in his flat, Atsushi pressing him hard against the mattress as he fucked himself on Akutagawa, their lips never leaving skin as saliva dripped down their chins.

‘Fuck’, Atsushi said, his voice breathless as he bounced himself up and down Akutagawa’s cock, who in turned thrusted his hips up to try and maintained the ruthless rhythm the younger had settled. Suddenly, no longer willing to let the man take charge, he flipped them around, so that he now was trapped underneath him. Atsushi gasped beneath him, as Akutagawa slammed himself into him, making his thrusts long and hard, making sure to drag his length all through him, hitting his prostate every time.

Eventually, Akutagawa started to feel his climax building so he desperately reached for Atsushi’s cock, pumping him hard and fast hoping to make him cum before he did.Akutagawa looks down on him again and sees how he now has spit falling from the corner of his mouth down his chin, so he leans forwards and licks it up, causing another shudder to arise from Atsushi’s body. Another groan falls from Atsushi’s lips, and then he cums, his body clenching down hard on Akutagawa as his legs shake, at this he couldn’t hold himself anymore and he lost himself to his orgasm. Leaving them both breathless as they tried to come back from their orgasm.

After that first time, it sort of became a regular thing. Whenever they came back from missions, they would fuck, it would be rough and quick and as soon as it started it would be over, Atsushi would pick up his things and leave as if he had never been there. But as time progressed, their encounters did as well.

Atsushi started spending the night, they started fucking on times other than missions. Fucking turned into cuddling which turned into late night conversations, giving a way into a weird sort of intimacy that neither of them had expected. Eventually, Atsushi started coming to his palace just to hang out, most of the time they didn’t even fuck anymore, just hanging out with each other enough for both of them.

It reached a point where the sight of Atsushi sitting at his dining table was no longer a surprise. He would always be there sipping on tea with too much milk and too much sugar (impossibly sweet and so, so fitting to him), as he ignored Akutagawa’s complaints about how he was wasting his most expensive tea. It was during one of these occasions when he realised that oh, he was in love with him. Just fucking was no longer enough for him, it probably had never been. He wanted more, he wanted everything and anything that Atsushi would be willing to offer him.

Which led him to his current predicament, as he was deliberating how and when to tell him. How exactly was he meant to say that he had stopped hating him a while ago, that perhaps he had never hated him at all, that he was now the most precious person he had in his life.

His thoughts were abruptly brought to a stop when he spotted him. Atsushi was walking around the pier, looking peacefully at the sunset. He looked beautiful, the soft rays of light painting him in various golden hues as the wind played with his hair. He must have stood there staring at him for a while because eventually the younger man laughed.

‘You don’t have to stand there staring at me, Ryuu. You can come and say hi.’ At this Akutagawa blushed immediately, he was certainly not planning on getting caught, the embarrassment causing him to lash out immediately.

‘Who said I was staring at you studid Jinko. I’m just here to look at the sea, so mind you own fucking business.’ Harsh, too harsh, how did Akutagawa ever expect him to return his love when all he ever did was insult him? Thankfully, Atsushi didn’t take his jabs at heart, simply letting a short laugh escape from his lips.

‘Oh well, you’re still more than welcomed to watch the sunset with me. It is Valentine’s Day after all.’

Slowly, Akutagawa walks up to him, trying to calm the thrumming of his heart and the heat that threatens to spread to his cheeks. They stand in silence for a moment, simply enjoying the sunset. Until Atsushi decides to speak again.

‘So, why are you here then?’ Atsushi says, a mischievous smile lighting up his features.

‘I only came here to watch the sunset, so don’t start getting any weird ideas.’ He says, pointedly keeping his gaze away from the other man. ‘What about you?’ He adds as a second thought, not quite ready to let the conversation fizzle out.

‘Same reason. I felt kinda lonely and thought maybe coming here would make me feel better.’

Akutagawa turns to look at him. He is constantly amazed at how unafraid the other man is to let himself be vulnerable. He opens himself up to Akutagawa again and again, expecting nothing but to be accepted. He wishes he had the same strength. Suddenly, Atsushi turns to look at him, a knowing look lighting up his eyes.

‘You know Ryuu, you’re gonna miss the sunset if you keep staring at me instead.’ Even while mocking him he looks so beautiful, his eyes twinkling and his smile carefree. His chest tightens at the feeling of sheer want. He loves him, he loves him so much that he doesn’t know if he is ever gonna recover.

‘I’m in love with you.’

Atsushi laughs. A soft gentle giggle falling from his lips that under any other circumstance it would have warmed up Akutagawa from the inside out but right now it felt like a bucket of ice water. Shit. he shouldn’t have said that. Quickly he turns his head away from Atsushi, not wanting him to see the clear embarrassment on his face, or the dampness that threatens to spill from his eyes.

Of course Atsushi doesn’t love him back. They are sworn enemies and hate each other, at some point even actively attempting to kill one another. Just because they fuck every now and then and just because Atsushi is friendlier to him now it doesn’t mean anything. He should’ve known that he was reading into things. Atsushi must have realised that he hurt his feelings because he abruptly stops his laugh, opting instead for talking to him:

‘Ryuu, I’m sorry for laughing but please look at me.’ His tone is pleading and by this point Akutagawa doesn’t think he can deny him of anything so he complies.

And he wishes he could regret it, but he can’t. Not when Atsushi is looking at him with the softest of smiles gracing his lips, his eyes barely crinkled at the corners and so much warmth in his expression. Akutagawa thinks he could look at him and laugh and laugh for days thinking about how he once used to despise the boy that now gently holds his heart in the palm of his hands.

‘I’ve loved you for the longest time, and I just didn’t think you would ever feel the same way.’ Atsushi says, tears starting to spill from his eyes and Akutagawa’s heart stops. The beast that has lived permanently in his chest since he met Atsushi running wildly around his chest.

‘Stupid Jinko.’ Is all he says because Atsiuhi is crying and he is stupid. He is so, so stupid; how could Akutagawa do anything but love him. He doesn’t say this though, still too awkward with his words to be able to express himself properly so he opts to just reach his hand over to Atsushi’s cheeks, gently wiping away the tears that have fallen from his eyes.

...

( ‘Hey, Ryuu.’ Says Atsushi a while later, as they look at the sunset. Akutagawa simply hums in reply.

‘Does this mean you are my valentine?’

‘Shut up Jinko.’)

read it on ao3

#shin soukoku #sskk #bungou stray dogs #bsd #akutagawa ryuunosuke #nakajima atsushi

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rovewritesit · 4 years

Text

Angel Of My Dreams (Chapter 1) John Deacon x Reader Series

I’ve read so many fan fics in the past four months and I thought it was high time to try my hand at it. I’ve created this side blog so that I can 1) Express my love for Queen and 2) Not annoy the randos from high school and college who still follow my main. This’ll be a slow burn folks, so hold on to your hats.

Series summary: After reluctantly joining a band with your childhood best friends, you are thrust into oncoming stardom with no sea legs and an overwhelming sense of anxiety. But you just might find your way, thanks to some seasoned pros by your side. And the interest of one particular bassist.

This series is a work of fiction, and is loosely inspired by real people and events. Absolutely no offense is meant to actual Queen or their families.

PART 2 - PART 3 - PART 4

Pairing: John Deacon x Reader (eventually)

Chapter Warnings: Lots o’ curses

Chapter Summary: This is basically just some set up for the series. No Deacy yet, but a meet-cute to happen very soon! I got the band name with the help of some random band name generator so be kind. I’m hoping to introduce in some songs readers may not have heard - I was thinking of “Heart of the Night” by Juice Newton while writing this, hence the single name and album.

Song/Title Inspiration: Angel - Fleetwood Mac

- - - - - - -

Days of Our Lives Documentary Shoot - 2010

(Brian May and Roger Taylor Joint Interview)

“The early 80s were huge for us, for sure. I believe we were at our biggest then, internationally speaking.” Brian states, glancing over to Roger.

“Yes, Another One Bites the Dust really set things a-flame I think. The traveling and playing were constant. The crowds getting bigger by the venue. Parties, hotels, girls, more parties. We were meeting just so many people.” Roger adds.

“And one of those being a certain American female rock singer.” The interviewer adds quietly from off-camera.

Roger glances over to him with a questioning look, but Brian catches on quick, like always.

“Ah yes, that particular rock goddess. We did meet her around then, I believe, yes. Maybe a few years after.” Brian says knowingly, still playing along.

Roger stares into space with a confused look on his face until the realization hits him. “Are we talking about Y/N?” Roger mutters to Brian. “Yes” Brian chuckles, patting his friend on the shoulder.

“Oh, what a spit-fire she is! Not back then though. Fred really worked some magic with that one. Almost inseparable those two were.” Roger laughs out, a wave of nostalgia washing over his face.

Brian raises his large eyebrows, “Deacy would beg to differ I think.”

Roger smirks, “Oh, well that’s a whole different story.”

- - - - - - -

1982 - MTV Studios, New York City

You run your hands up and down your thighs, trying to will your left knee to stop repeatedly bouncing up and down. The satin of your pants does nothing for the layer of sweat on your clammy hands. You fold them together in your lap and gaze around the studio instead, taking in the bustling of crew members as they ready for the pre-taped interview. The god-like VJ, Alan Hunter, sits in a chair off to the side as someone artfully pieces his blonde locks into place. He grins over at you with a small wave. You limply lift your hand in a greeting, pasting on a small smile that doesn’t reach your eyes.

You catch your pained expression as you glimpse a monitor off-camera. A friendly woman backstage had painted your face to the point of being almost unrecognizable. Gone was the evidence under your eyes of the restless sleep you’d fought the previous night. They were wide and doed, rather than their normal crescent shape. Your lips full and vibrant, your hair bounced and fanned out around your face. And your skin seemed to be glowing, masking the spots that had popped up overnight from stress. You looked every bit the rock goddess the label hoped to paint you as, and the exact opposite of the nerves currently threatening to overtake your body.

“Y/N, I can feel you vibrating from here. Take a deep breath. It’s gonna be fine.” Rich commented from beside you. His legs were splayed out, his arms bent behind his head. Looking as relaxed as can be, as if he were on his couch at home catching a movie marathon, about to doze off.

“How can you be so calm right now?” You rush out. “Who knows how many people are going to see this interview. Do you know how many times a day I accidentally let the F word fly out of my mouth?”

Rich lets out a snort. “I happen to know exactly how much you curse, thank you. Yesterday you said fuck 3 times in one sentence. It was charming, my mom loved it.” He moves his right arm to squeeze around your shoulders. Usually, it would be a comforting display of friendship, but you shake it off.

“And look at those three. Already so at home, I see.” You nod to the three other members of the band. Steve is exuding energy like yourself, but it’s excitement that bubbles from him. His eyes flit around the room quickly as he taps out some unknown rhythm on his bent legs. A wide grin permanently fixed on his boyish features.

At the far end of the couch, Eddie and Lawrence are wrapped up in a not-so-silent game of knuckles.

“Son of a-- Will you take off those damn rings? It’s my turn and I’m still getting bruised.” Lawrence huffs. Eddie wiggles his long, skilled, silver-clad fingers in front of his face and raises his eyebrows. “It’s all about the look, baby. Gotta play the part of the guitar god.”

“Will you both knock it off.” You call over to them. “We need both those sets of hands in playing shape for tomorrow night.”

Eddie turns, probably to counter with some playful comment about how you mother them too much, but Alan approaches.

“Alright, guys. And girl.” He flashes his perfectly white teeth your way again. “We’re about 5 minutes out from going up. Anybody need anything? Water, vodka, beer…” He turns his gaze to Steve, who is still tapping lightly on his legs. “A Xanax, perhaps?”

“Waters all around would be great, thanks.” You offer. Alan nods to a twitchy PA waiting to his side and they hurry off.

“Oh wait up, a Bud Light too, if you have any!” Eddie calls after them. The other three boys echo the same as well.

“You can take the boys out of Long Island…” you mutter to yourself. Rich teasingly pokes your side. “And something stiff for the lady!” He shouts out.

“In all manner of ways” Steve giggles. You feign a shocked expression and reach over to place a gentle slap to the side of his head. He looks over with big apologetic eyes and you stifle a laugh.

In record time, the lanky PA rushes back over with a myriad of drinks, all threatening to topple over on the tray they were precariously balanced on. Another PA trails behind, handing you all water, which you’re in desperate need of. They hand the drinks out one by one and stop before you. “Your water, Miss. And I didn’t know what you liked so I have a jack and coke, a whiskey sour, and a gin and tonic.”

“The gin and tonic is great, thanks.” They hurriedly hand you the drink and go to turn away. “Love your hair by the way.” You tell them. “I’m absolute shit at styling mine. Guess I’ll have to learn now.” They smile back at you and run a hand through their short locks before disappearing amongst the rest of the crew.

“Okay, we’re ready to rock n’ roll!” Alan exclaims, getting the band’s attention as he sits down in a chair next to your side of the couch. “We’re going to start off with a few basics on the band. Your lower thirds will have your instruments labeled but feel free to explain how you guys started out, your influences, your process. I’ll prompt you in between and then we'll talk about the album and promote your upcoming tour towards the end. Should take 15 minutes tops, so keep your answers brief. But I won’t say no to any rowdy stories you want to throw in.” He finishes with a wink.

The band nods along as you gulp down a breath, your palms becoming even slicker. The stage manager’s high voice rings out around the studio. “Playback ready! Live to tape in 5.. 4...” Rich places a hand over your knee and gives a squeeze. “Light em’ up, Bun” he mutters in your ear.

“3.. 2..” She holds up a finger and then points it at Alan, a wide smile already set on his face. The camera light flicks red as the MTV open plays from speakers around the room. Alan beings as the song fades out.

“We’re here in the studio and boy, am I excited to get to know this next band. Over at MTV we’ve been watching the steady rise of their single “Heart of the Night” on the charts. And as an added surprise, they’re here to introduce their very first music video. I’m very pleased to welcome to the studio, Lo & The Limbs!”

You try to relax your face as a camera pans across the band and settles on a two-shot of you and Alan. You know your eyes are gleaming with anxiety so you glance down the couch, silently praying for one of the boys to take the lead.

“Thanks for having us Alan, it’s such a trip to be here.” Eddie says with ease, resting his forearms on his knees.

“So, I have to ask. Who is Lo? Is it you Lawerence?” Alan questions the piano player.

“Oh god, no.” Lawrence chuckles. “Our high school was affectionately called Lo High, for Long Island HighSchool of the Arts. So we sort of tacked that on while playing during those years to let people know where we were from. That and well, as you can see we’re all above 6 foot except for Y/N, so a lot of limbs going on here.”

Alan gives a short laugh. “You released your debut album, Quiet Lies, earlier this year to growing success. Why don’t you tell me how you all started out.”

“Well, the boys and I have been together for a few years. We’ve been friends since grade school and we always just used to jam about. As we got older we started playing local bars back on Long Island to mostly middle-aged crowds, trying to break in, but it wasn’t working. Then Rich had the idea to invite Y/N to join up and it’s all kind of all taken off from there.” Eddie explains.

“We needed a pretty face to balance out all these ugly mugs” Steve pipes up.

“It took a while for her to finally concede though. She was off being too studious for the likes of us.” Rich adds on with a smile and nudge to your side. Your eyes grow wide as you feel a question directed at you coming on.

“Is that true, Y/N?”

“I- I guess, I was at NYU studying documentary filmmaking.” You choke out, but continue on. “Love this lighting set up, by the way, it really hides all sins.” That gets a light chuckle out of the crew surrounding you.

“And these sins you’re hiding are…” Alan grins but quickly bounces to the next topic. “Certainly a good call, Rich. Heart of the Night is the only song off the album that Y/N is singing lead on and look how well it’s doing. How did that happen?”

“Most of our songs were already written from before when we finally got the money to record. We wanted Y/N to feel a part of it, so she went on and wrote Heart of the Night and we were all very pleasantly surprised that it’s become such a hit.” Steve explains. “She also directed the music video we’ll be debuting today. I can’t believe she let us do all the things we did in that… well, you’ll just have to see for yourselves. We can be a bit of a handful.” The boys all chuckle.

“That and she plays the weirdest collection of instruments. Rhythm guitar, any type of strings, the saxophone… She's a boss on the harmonica.” Eddie turns to you as he speaks. “You just need to get over those pesky little nerves about your singing, Bun!” He points in your direction.

You feel the heat rise behind your perfectly painted cheeks at the slip of your nickname. You cast your gaze down at your lap. Not liking how the conversation has turned directly onto you.

Alan quirks an eyebrow at you. “Bun?” He teases.

You have yet to lift your eyes when Rich answers for you. “Bunny, an affectionate nickname. It’s stuck around since grade school when she wandered into Lawrence's backyard in search of a rabbit she was chasing.”

“A rockstar called Bunny. There’s a first for everything.” Alan quips, but quickly notices your displeasure in the current topic. Sensing your growing panic, he addresses the rest of the group. “This has been quite the debut album, with more hits sure to come from it. Any bands you’ve taken inspiration from while writing and producing?”

Rich jumps at the question. “Fleetwood Mac would be a big one. The way they layer their sounds is just unmatchable. You catch something new with every listen of an album of theirs.”

“I can’t be a pianist from Long Island and not mention the granddaddy, Billy Joel.” Lawrence adds. “His songs take you on such a ride. They’re full stories, each one of them.”

“And you, Y/N?” Alan directs the next question. “Who will you be drawing inspiration from when you write your next hit single?”

You smile to yourself. “It’s gotta be Queen for me. I’ve loved every one of their albums. I mean, the way they’ve changed their sound just in the past few years alone. They’re always transcending. Never afraid to try out something new or weave a different genre into one of their songs. But you always know it’s a Queen song. I saw them 2 years ago when they played the Garden, and fu--” You catch yourself as you get more animated. “And they were all just so on. Perfectly in sync. There’s something so distinct about their sound, so practiced. I’d love to get to their level, to be able to experiment like that. To give joy in the way they’ve given it to me.” You finish. Realizing you’ve rambled for a bit, you turn your eyes downwards yet again.

“I think that’s the most I’ve heard you talk since you came into the studio!” Alan laughs. “Well, you heard it here first folks, Y/N L/N is a Queen fan, just like the rest of us. I’m sure you’re just as excited about their new album as well.” You nod quickly as Rich hides a smile. Knowing full well you’ll be first in line to purchase their new album, Hot Space when it drops.

“But before you get off to writing more hits, I believe you have a tour coming up!” Alan states, signaling that the interview is wrapping up.

“Yeah, we have a small American tour starting in February. But until then we’ll be opening up for Hall and Oates during their tour of the NorthEast next month.” Steve says excitedly, bouncing slightly in his seat.

“And with that, I think we’ll roll into the long-anticipated music video and directorial debut for the lovely Y/N L/N. Thank you all so much for coming in today and I can’t wait to see what’s next on the horizon for you. Here’s Lo & The Limbs with Heart of the Night!” Alan keeps his painted smile till the red light vanishes from above the lens on the large pedestal camera in front of him.

You breathe out the breath you’d been choking on as Rich puts an arm around your shoulders. He leans in and whispers lightly, “And only one hint of a fuck, ladies and gentlemen. She might just make it in this business after all.”

- - - - - - -

One Month Later - Veterans Memorial Coliseum - New Haven, Connecticut

The Limbs bound off the stage in full force, glistening with sweat and excitement. It was the largest crowd they’d played for by far. 10,000 people cheered from the audience as roadies and crew moved around them to set up for the main act, Hall and Oates. Rich spreads his long arms and huddles the rest of the group into a family hug, your skin sticking to one another, the smell of sweat filling your noses.

“I just want us to all remember this moment.” He speaks to the group, foreheads touching. “Even if nothing happens past this album. That was insane.”

“Absolutely bonkers, dude!” Steve says and he bounces up and down beside you. You all take a deep collective breath and squeeze.

“Alright, get off of me you fucks.” You laugh, untangling yourself from their vast expanse of limbs. “We all stink and I have to get out of all... this” You gesture to the skin-tight bodysuit your best friend, Dawn, had insisted you wear. Eddie presses a light kiss to your temple as he lets you into the dressing room first to change out of their view.

You close the door and sigh, glancing at yourself in the mirrors that line one wall of the room. Your eyes are bright, your hair is two times the size of when you went out on stage an hour before, and your makeup looks like you’d been in a fight. Grinning to yourself, you start to unlatch the halter top of the bodysuit, excited for the air to cool your skin.

Just as you are about to shimmy out of the rest of the ensemble, the door bursts open.

“Shit! Lawrence, what the hell?!” Scrambling to cover your top half.

Lawrence trains his eyes to the ceiling as he speaks. “Bunny, you gotta… just cover up and get your ass out here. You just... You gotta see, c’mon.”

Flustered, you hurry to redress your sticky body. After making sure everything is properly covered, you step out into the hallway backstage, already glaring at the boys. They’re all tight-lipped, staring at one another. “Okay, someone want to tell me what the hell is going on?” You say loudly. “Shhhhh” Rich hisses as he gestures behind him with a shake of his head. You glance over his shoulder to see the backs of two men. John Hall and Daryl Oates.

“Yeah, okay... I don’t get it. We’ve hung out with them like 5 times. Why are we fangirling?”

Rich widens his eyes at you and you glance back at them again. This time they part and you can catch a glimpse of who they’ve been talking to.

The flash of a tight leather jacket, a mustache, and two front teeth shining while laughter erupts from behind them.

You gasp.

“Fucking, fuck. That’s Freddie fucking Mercury.” You say, a bit too loud.

The bold man in question locks eyes with you. Something mischievous dances behind them as he narrows his gaze. Daryl and John move to their roadies to get fixed up before heading out on stage and Freddie lets out a sharp burst of laughter as he makes his way over. Your stomach churns with embarrassment but you can’t tear your eyes from his.

“Quite the redundancy of expletives, my dear. All you had to do was say hello.” he grins at you, all teeth. You’re not one to get too clammy in front of other musicians, but your voice gets trapped in your throat. You pray to whatever gods are out there that your eyes don’t get any wider.

Eddie’s easy charm luckily saves you. “This beautiful songstress right here is Y/N L/N.” You barely lift your arms as Freddie pulls you in for a light hug and kiss on the cheek. “But you can call her Bunny.” Eddie grins. So much for easy charm you think as you stare daggers into the profile of his face.

“Ha! Bunny? Oh my, that is wonderful.” Freddie chuckles. “It sounds as if you’re a socialite... Or a stripper. I can’t tell.” He beams at you. You can’t help but beam right back.

“Come along. Let us watch the show and you can tell me which one it is.” He says with a wink. “And introduce me to these giants you call your band.” He grabs your arm and leads you off, the boys in tow. Bouncing with excitement for what’s to come.

#queen fic #queen fanfiction #queen fanfic #john deacon #john deacon fic #john deacon imagine #john deacon x reader #john deacon series #deaky fic #deacy fic #deaky x reader #deacy x reader #angelofmydreams

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glitterblazercalum · 4 years

Text

got a river for a soul, and baby, you’re a boat

or: Oh, fuck. We showed up wearing matching couples’ costumes to this party by accident and now everyone thinks we’re together.” + cashton

hello and happy halloween everyone!! giant thank u to ainslee @ashesonthefloor for putting this event together!! and for forcing me to actually get this fic done, looking it over, and generally being a major source of serotonin in my life. another huge thank u to bella @clumsyclifford for being one of my favorite people and loving frat boys enough that it made me want to write a fic about them to annoy her <3 love you both <3

here is the link to the event masterpost bc I highly recommend checking out all of the other amazing fics:

https://ashesonthefloor.tumblr.com/post/633534107120549888/hello-welcome-to-my-halloween-fic-event

warnings: mentions of alcohol

word count: 2,872

without further ado, please enjoy the fic I wrote mostly all last night while looping drag me down for thirteen hours straight :))

Calum doesn’t know what fuckhead came up with the idea of having a joint Halloween party for Sigma Nu and Sigma Pi this year, but he really wants to fight them. He thinks he’d probably have a lot of people on his side, considering how much Sig Nu and and Sig Pi hate each other, so he tucks the idea of interfraternity war away in his head as a contingency plan in case the party goes to shit, as joint parties with any other frat always seem to. And it’s not like it’s a one night thing, because all three days of the “Halloweekend,” as Michael refuses to stop calling it, are supposedly going to be spent with Sig Nu, one party at their own house, and two at the shithole that he assumes is the Sig Nu house, in some deranged attempt at bonding. He’ll be lucky to make it out alive, probably.

Before college, he really never did anything of his own for Halloween, mainly used to being used as a prop or side character for his sister Mali-Koa’s elaborate costumes, or, after she’d moved out, sticking a pair of fake fangs in his mouth to hand out candy to the few kids who rang the doorbell despite his efforts to keep all the lights in the house off. Last year, as a freshman, he’d gotten roped into a group costume with some of the other Sig Pi pledges, and while his memories are...hazy at best, he vaguely remembers falling asleep in a Teletubbies onesie at the end of the night.

This year, though, no one has tried to tell him what to dress up as, so it’s now a few hours before the first of the three parties, and Calum still has no ideas for what he should dress up as. A quick Google search for “cheap easy costumes” hadn’t really been all that helpful, so he decides to ignore the problem and take a nap until he actually has to leave.

A few hours later, Michael barges into the room to drag him out of bed, and looks around for a few seconds before asking, “You don’t have a costume, do you?”

Calum groans, pulling himself out of bed and wracking his brain for an idea that he can plausibly bullshit in the next few seconds, because he can’t let Michael be right and have something to tease him about, so he blurts, “I’m going to be a salt shaker.”

Michael gapes at him a bit for a few seconds before asking, “What the fuck? What kind of costume is that? What are you even going to wear for that?”

Calum mentally kicks himself in the shin, as hard as possible, because he really hasn’t thought this through. Why couldn’t he have just said cat or cowboy or something even slightly in the realm of normal Halloween costumes?

“Uhhh.. y’know that baseball tee I have? The one with the black sleeves and white middle?”

“I’m pretty sure that’s in my closet, but continue.”

“What the fuck, dude? Give it back!”

“You haven’t noticed that it’s missing for like three weeks, I just assumed it was mine now. Tell me what the rest of the costume is,” Michael demands.

“I’ll just tape a piece of paper with a big ‘S’ on it to the front of my shirt, and then put one of those pots with the holes on my head. Bam! Salt shaker!” Calum says, moderately impressed with his ability to pull stuff out of his ass this quickly.

“What makes you think we even have a colander?” Michael asks, crossing his arms.

Calum gives him a blank stare. “A what?”

“That’s what the pots with the holes are called, you idiot.”

“You think Harry would live anywhere that didn’t have a fully-stocked kitchen? There’s bound to be one in one of the cabinets or something.”

“Fine. I’ll go get the shirt while you look for the colander.” Before Calum can object, suggest that he look through Michael’s closet himself and steal back any of his other clothes that have somehow wound up there, Michael’s already halfway down the hallway.

Sighing, he trudges down the stairs towards the kitchen, where one of the seniors, Niall, is sitting with his head in his hands, dressed as a pirate.

“Hey, dude, nice costume,” Calum offers as a greeting. “You wouldn’t happen to know where I can find a colander, would you? I know Harry—”

“Do not talk to me about Harry right now,” Niall says, and Calum stops his search for a moment to send him a concerned look.

“What happ—”

“That needy-ass motherfucker thinks that just because I didn’t want to do a couples’ costume with him, it means I don’t love him anymore! Never mind the fact that he literally mentioned this idea to me yesterday, well past the point where everyone finalizes their costumes.”

Calum offers him a sympathetic look and offers, “Couples’ costumes are boring and cheesy anyways. Neither of you are missing out on anything, at least in my opinion.”

Niall lifts his head up from where he’d been repeatedly hitting it on the table to smirk at Calum and ask, “Have a lot of experience with couples’ costumes, do you?”

Luckily, Calum has finally found the colander, so he opts to ignore the question and just leave the kitchen entirely.

When he gets back upstairs, Michael’s in his room, unabashedly checking himself out in the mirror that’s on the back of the closet door. “Yeah, yeah, your anime character of the year looks great, now get out and let me get ready.”

Michael scoffs, “Get ready, as if you’re even doing anything,” but moves towards the door anyway.

Michael’s right, the costume is ridiculously easy to throw together, and two minutes later, they’re both out the door, walking across Fraternity Row to get to the Sig Nu house, where the music is already blaring and strobe lights throw red, then green, then blue shadows across everyone’s faces. On his way to the kitchen to grab a drink, he sees Niall and Harry walk into the house, holding hands and laughing together, so he assumes that their fight has blown over as quickly as all of their other fights always seem to.

He sees a few different trays of shots and decides he might as well take one to get the night started off right. After, he realizes that he probably shouldn’t grab a beer now, Mali’s rule about sticking to one color of booze for the night ringing in his head, so he settles for filling up a Solo cup with whatever glow in the dark gin concoction is in all the punch bowls. He wouldn’t put it past the Sig Nus to poison the drink on purpose, but it tastes relatively normal, so he grabs another cup for Michael and attempts to leave the kitchen, steering around the couple sloppily making out in the doorway.

It’s harder to spot Michael than it usually is, considering that at least half the people at the party are wearing some type of wig, but Calum eventually makes his way back over to him. He’s talking to Niall and Harry, and they both offer him a smile before continuing on with the conversation. Once that reaches a lull, Niall leans closer to Calum and says, “Mate, you didn’t need to lie to me about couples’ costumes.”

Calum has no idea what Niall is talking about, so he shakes his head and asks, “What are you talking about?”

Niall cackles, and Harry turns to look at him adoringly before going back to talking to Michael, and Calum is more confused than ever. Niall grabs his shoulder and spins him around and points in the direction of a clump of people. “You’re salt and he’s pepper, right? That’s such an obvious couples’ costume, although you two do seem to have a bit of a disconnect on how much effort you put in. That guy really went all out. And dude, why haven’t you told us that you have a boyfriend? You know we’d want to know about that, give him the Sig Pi seal of approval and all that. Wait. Unless he’s a Sig Nu, in which case, I don’t want to know because I’d probably have to kick you out. That’s a joke, by the way.”

Calum barely has the presence of mind to mumble, “He’s not my boyfriend,” before crossing the room to get to the guy in the hyper-realistic pepper grinder costume.

The guy smiles as Calum approaches, and despite the costume covering most of his body, Calum can tell that he’s cute. “Why so salty?” Pepper Guy greets, the sunshiney smile still on his face.

Calum smirks and replies, “Maybe I just need some more spice in my life.” Pepper Guy laughs, and just like everything else about him, it’s cute, and Calum wants to hear it again. “I’m Calum, by the way.”

“Ashton. Nice to meet you, man.”

Calum leans a little closer so that it’s easier to hold a conversation over the loud music and asks, “What’s the deal with the super realistic pepper grinder costume?”

Ashton makes a strange noise, somewhere between a laugh and a groan, and says, “I got it off some random sketchy website, but it was supposed to be a chess piece. Something clearly went wrong somewhere in production, and my friend Luke said that I might as well sharpie a “P” onto it and just go with it.”

Calum makes a noise of agreement, mind stuck on a dumb idea. Before he can reconsider, he sends Michael a quick text that says if u’ve already taken over as dj, can u play that come grind w me song? and a few seconds later, he hears the opening notes and grins.

“Hey, Ashton?”

“Yeah?” Ashton replies, as realization slips across his face.

Right in time with the singer’s voice, Calum says, “Come grind with me,” and he laughingly pulls Ashton towards the makeshift dance floor. Neither of them can really dance, so it’s a mess of laughter and limbs flopping around, but Calum feels an unmistakable electricity between them too, and once the song is over, they stay for the next few, enraptured by each other. When they finally exhaust themselves with all the laughing and mock-twerking, Ashton asks Calum if he wants a refill, and when Calum nods, he grabs his hand and starts pulling him towards the kitchen.

Once they’re there, Calum goes for another serving of the glow in the dark punch, which is steadily dimming as the glow sticks run out of light. Since that’s really the only light source in the kitchen, Calum doesn’t see Ashton until he’s turning around and Ashton is right in front of him, reaching around him for a cup. Calum’s kind of trapped with his back against the counter, Ashton’s pepper grinder costume tall enough to really block out the view of the rest of the party, and the world narrows, all of it contained in where their eyes connect, and then, after Calum has safely set his drink back on the counter, that narrow point expands just a bit to where their mouths land on each other’s. The colander gets knocked off Calum’s head as he lifts himself up to sit on the counter, wrapping his legs around Ashton’s waist to pull him closer, as close as he can possibly get him.

Ashton’s sucking a mark into Calum’s neck when Calum has his first coherent thought of the past few minutes and pulls back, breathlessly asking “Wait, wait, you’re not a Sig Nu, are you?” fully expecting the answer to be no.

Ashton steps back a little too, and it takes him a second to register the question before he groans, “Of course you’re a fucking Sig Pi, that’s the only explanation that makes sense for me never seeing you anywhere before. You’re too hot for me to not notice otherwise.”

Calum flushes and mentally curses out whatever idiots had started the rivalry between Sig Nu and Sig Pi before he grabs his stupid colander off the ground and gives Ashton an awkward wave goodbye.

Once he’s out of the kitchen, he quickly glances around in search of Michael, and when he can’t immediately find him, he just gives up and leaves entirely. Fuck Sig Nu.

He spends most of the next day bitching about his hangover, and then, a few hours later, bitching about his hangover while helping to set up the house for that night’s party.

He doesn’t really have much more of a costume for tonight, throwing on a gray shirt and sharpie-ing some whiskers on his face. Michael takes pity on him and makes him a headband with an approximation of what they both think mouse ears are, and Calum is mildly entertained by going up to everyone and saying, “I’m a mouse, duh.”

His heart’s really not in the right place to party tonight, which is probably breaking the cardinal rule of being in a frat, so he sticks close to Michael, who has taken over the role of DJ, once again. Zayn from Alpha Sig strolls over after about half an hour, devil horns askew, and quietly says to Calum, “Cat and mouse, huh? Didn’t think you had it in you, Hood, that’s proper cute. Not as cute as me and Lou, mind you, but still, I respect the effort.”

Calum is reluctant to look up and see who he’s accidentally matching with today, because, with his luck, it’s probably another guy from Sig Nu. When he does eventually look up, he immediately makes eye contact with Ashton, who happens to be walking by, dressed in all black and with whiskers sharpie’d onto his face too. Calum wants to bang his head into a wall because the universe clearly hates him if it’s having him match with Ashton again. Even beyond that, Ashton looks so good out of the stupid pepper grinder and in all black that Calum wants to make out with him again.

Ashton is clearly having similar thoughts when he gestures Calum over and leads them towards a little pocket of quiet space in one of the lesser used hallways.

Calum really wants to hook his thumb into one of Ashton’s belt loops, so he does, as Ashton looks him up and down a few times. “Is the mouse costume your way of telling me you want me to chase you?”

Calum murmurs, “Shut up,” before leaning in to kiss him, frat rivalry be damned. It’s just as good as it was the night before, maybe even more so, now that the pepper costume isn’t in their way. At this point, there’s no denying the chemistry. It can’t be blamed on being drunk since Calum’s been nursing the same beer all night, and the part of his brain that’s protesting against being this close to a Sig Nu is getting smaller and smaller as he and Ashton continue to kiss.

They stay in that hallway for the rest of the night, eventually sliding down to sit on the ground, legs pressed together, sharing stupid stories about their respective frats. Calum’s surprised when the music shuts off because it feels like it’s only been an hour at most, that’s how easy it is to talk to Ashton. Ashton heaves himself up and reaches both hands down to help Calum up, too.

“I don’t think there’s any way you can match your costume to mine tomorrow, but I’ll come find you anyways,” Ashton says, as he leaves Calum with a kiss on the cheek.

Calum’s too wired to sleep much, so he opts to help clean up the house instead, and that takes up enough of his day that when nighttime rolls around, he’s stood staring at his closet without a costume idea for the third time in as many days. After ten minutes of consideration, he digs through one of his drawers to pull out the fake vampire fangs that he had somehow remembered to bring with him, and he goes down the hall to ask Jack to put some fake blood on his mouth and neck. Jack always goes all out for Halloween.

Once he’s at the party, he doesn’t have to wait long to find Ashton, who looks incredibly good in his werewolf costume. There’s fake blood on him too, which is really the only way their costumes could be understood to be matching, or so Calum thinks. Tonight, Jack and Alex are the ones to tease him, “You know what, I agree. Jacob and Edward should have ended up together, Bella was boring as shit.”

Calum’s really not bothered by the comments at all, so much so that he’s already thinking of couples’ costumes ideas for next year when he finds his way over to Ashton and whispers, “Let’s get out of here.”

“Are you trying to make a move on me? I’m a respectable Sigma Nu, I don’t know if I can allow that.”

Calum laughs and tugs him out the door, “Told you I wanted some more spice in my life.”

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twentiethcenturymoviesandtv · 4 years

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Casablanca: The Story

Whether you enjoy a timeless love story, heart-wrenching interpersonal drama, gritty film-noir, thrilling spy action, edge-of-your-seat suspense, or war stories, Casablanca has it all, and in spades. Everything from classic lines to familiar story beats comes together to tell this story of a tragic romance embroiled in the midst of an oncoming war, and what a ride it is. Let’s take a look.

So what’s the setup?

It’s December of 1941, and War is coming. The Nazis have already taken most of Europe, and are looking to march on what’s left, with no signs of stopping. The refugees, fleeing the Nazi forces, search for transportation to America, and most end up in the city of Casablanca.

The problem is, then they can’t get out of Casablanca. As a result, the city becomes somewhat of a way station, full of people waiting for visas to enable them to cross the Atlantic, and the officials profiting from the people’s desperation. As it turns out, a few German officials, carrying important documents, have just been murdered, and their documents stolen. Casablanca is on the alert, and the German forces in the city are taking it quite seriously, rounding up suspects and marching them into custody.

In short, Casablanca is not an easy place to live.

A plane full of Nazi officials arrives in the city, bringing with it Major Strasser, who is introduced to Casablanca’s Police Prefect, Captain Louis Renault. (Claude Rains)

Renault assures Strasser that they are doing everything in their power to solve the murder case, and explains that he knows who the murderer is, and expects to arrest him tonight. You see, Renault believes that the killer will be at Rick’s.

How does he know this, you may ask? Simple. Everyone comes to Rick’s.

Thus we are introduced to the hub of activity both in the city, and in the film, Rick’s Café Americain, a popular nightclub and gambling den. It’s a busy place, full of people who want to leave the country and their hushed conversations, all set against the soothing background noise of piano player Sam.

It is here that we are introduced to the owner of Rick’s Café Americain, Rick Blaine (Humphrey Bogart).

Right off, we learn a few things about him: He never drinks with customers, and he’s got a dry wit that’s sharper than a brand-new razor.

Rick sits, playing chess by himself (an element inspired by Bogart) at his own private table when he is interrupted by a man named Ugarte (Peter Lorre).

Ugarte tells Rick that his specialty is helping refugees (for a price), and that he himself intends to clear out of Casablanca that very night. He gives Rick something for safekeeping: an envelope that contains valuable letters of transit. An interesting choice, since it’s rather obvious that Rick doesn’t exactly like him very much, but Ugarte seems to trust him quite a bit, even if there isn’t any friendship between them.

“You know, Rick, I have many a friend in Casablanca, but somehow, just because you despise me, you are the only one I trust.”

Interestingly enough, as Rick points out, letters of transit are what was stolen from the murdered German couriers. He tells Ugarte that he’s ‘a little more impressed’ with him, and leaves it at that, hiding the papers inside the piano. A few moments later, he is approached by Signor Ferarri, the ‘head of all illegal activities in Casablanca’ and the owner of another nearby club, The Blue Parrot, who wants to buy Rick’s, or at the very least the piano player, Sam.

Rick’s having none of it, and tells Ferarri that he’s not selling the club, nor does he sell human beings, period. After this discussion and a brief incident ending with Rick calling a cab for a lady patron, the stoic club owner ends up in a conversation with none other than Captain Renault, who, ironically, seems to be on almost friendly terms with him.

The pair exchange witty banter, with Renault guessing reasons Rick has not returned to his home country, America. Rather than provide the true reason, Rick is content to let his Friendly Enemy guess, remaining very closed-mouthed on the reasons he remains in Casablanca.

Eventually, Renault gets to the point of his visit: He intends to make an arrest in Rick’s club tonight, and that Major Strasser of the Third Reich will be there to watch. Renault also mentions that there is a certain individual who has just come to Casablanca who will likely be in search for an exit visa much like the ones that were recently stolen. This individual’s name is Victor Lazlo, and the German army is quite keen on catching him before he gets overseas, and of course, Rick can’t, and won’t do anything about it, right?

After all, Rick sticks his neck out for no one.

Rick and Renault decide to make a bet on the outcome of Victor Lazlo’s stay in Casablanca. Renault wagers that he shall be captured, Rick that he shall escape. There’s a catch though, as Renault explains to Rick; Lazlo will probably be looking for two exit visas, as he’s traveling with a woman that he’s quite fond of.

Moments later, Major Strausser arrives, and Renault commences the arrest operation. His men move in on the suspect: Ugarte, the man who entrusted the important papers to Rick earlier. Ugarte, makes a pretense of going quietly before making a run for the door, firing a few shots behind him. He spots Rick on his way, pleading with him to help him hide, but it’s no good: he’s caught and dragged away, to the satisfaction of both Renault and Strasser.

Strasser isn’t completely satisfied, however. He wants to ask Rick a few questions.

He asks, all right, but doesn’t get much by way of answers. Rick’s just as tight-lipped with Strasser as he was with Renault, and the only information anyone comes away with is that Rick is from New York, and has brown eyes (apparently).

“Richard Blaine, American. Age, 37. Cannot return to his country. The reason is a little vague.”

Strasser is concerned that Rick might help Victor Lazlo, the man previously mentioned by Renault. Apparently Lazlo has been getting the word out on some of the nasty things that the Third Reich is responsible for, and as a result, the German military really want him arrested.

Why bring this to Rick? After all, he sticks his neck out for no one.

As it turns out, Rick has a history with lost causes. And speaking of history, it’s about to come back and bite him. Hard.

You see, Victor Lazlo (Paul Henreid) has just walked into Rick’s Cafe, with a woman on his arm. This woman is named Ilsa (Ingrid Bergman), and Sam (Dooley Wilson), the pianist, recognizes her immediately.

Victor and Ilsa get a table, and are apparently going to meet with someone to help them, when they are interrupted by none other than Captain Renault, who cordially sits down to share a drink with them rather than arrest them. How nice.

Ilsa, for her part, is returning Sam’s recognition, and asks Renault about him. The captain informs her that Sam came from Paris, traveling with the owner of the establishment, Rick. Ilsa seems interested in this ‘Rick’ character, but before she can really start asking questions, Strasser sits down at the table as well, clearly hostile towards Victor, but unwilling to do anything just yet, with Victor on French soil. Strasser arranges to meet with Victor the following day in Renault’s office to discuss why Victor’s here, and with that, leaves him to his drink.

No sooner are Victor and Ilsa alone than Victor immediately heads to the bar to inquire about his contact. You see, he and Ilsa were supposed to meet with someone who would provide him with the letters of transit to get out of Casablanca. They were, in fact, to meet with the recently-arrested Ugarte.

Left alone at their table, Ilsa begins a conversation with Sam, the piano player, and it’s obvious they know each other. Ilsa has a song request: she wants Sam to play ‘As Time Goes By’. Sam, while reluctant to at first, eventually gives in and begins playing the tune just in time for Rick to barge in, shouting at Sam for playing that song. Before he can really lay into him, Rick and Ilsa spot one another, and Rick recognizes her, instantly.

Sam grabs the piano bench and gets the heck out of Dodge.

Renault and Victor arrive at Ilsa’s table again, meaning that whatever history is between the pair will have to be ignored for now. Rick, breaking his own rule, joins them for a drink, to Renault’s surprise.

After an evening of small talk, Victor and Ilsa leave in a cab and Rick heads to a private room in his club to recover.

Later that night, Rick is sitting by himself in his club, drinking and remembering old times, and not in a fond way.

“Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, she walks into mine.”

As he sits, hoping Ilsa comes back, Sam comes in, trying to get him to leave. Rick isn’t budging, instead making a song request, the same song that Ilsa requested earlier.

“Play it, Sam. Play ‘As Time Goes By.'”

And so Sam does, albeit reluctantly. As he plays, Rick continues remembering, an entire relationships worth of remembering of he and Ilsa in Paris. Apparently the two were an item, and Rick was a considerably happier looking guy. During this time, the pair knew very little about each other, except that there had been another man in Ilsa’s life who was now dead.

Despite this, the two seem quite happy together, until something interrupts it. The War.

The German army is moving in on Paris.

The night before the Gestapo are to invade, Sam plays ‘As Time Goes By’ on the piano as Rick and Ilsa plan to escape Paris the following morning together by train.

The next morning, Rick stands at the train station, alone, waiting for Ilsa, who never shows. Sam approaches with a note from Ilsa, a note which explains that, while she loves Rick, she can’t go with him, and she can never see him again. Rick is left on the train station with a broken heart and a new cynical edge as Sam pulls him onto the train that will eventually take him to Casablanca.

In the present, Rick looks up to see Ilsa in the doorway. By this time, he is good and drunk, and isn’t really interested in hearing her explanation of what happened in Paris. Eventually, his snark and hard edge, reinforced by the alcohol, drive her off before she has a chance to tell him her side of the story.

So, before we get any further, let’s take a look at where we’re at.

Right now, we’ve got a handful of major players that we’re getting to know pretty well, all wrapped up in the affairs of Casablanca. First, there’s Rick.

Rick is a cynic, a bitter man who’s been kicked around by life a bit too much. While having a history of fighting for the underdog and being a romantic, something happened to him along the way that changed his way of thinking to: “I stick my neck out for no one.”

That event was, of course, Ilsa’s leaving, and the heartbreak that ensued.

As a result, Rick is a changed man, a hard man who now claims that he never gets involved, and who certainly wants no part of his sentimental roots. He’s really an interesting choice as a protagonist, as the audience does like him and root for him, but he’s not the heroic type. No, that’d seem to be Victor Lazlo, wouldn’t it?

Victor is the opposite of Rick in just about every way. He’s a good, honest and upright man, idealistic, brave, and patriotic to a fault, and wanted by the Nazis (which is a recommendation in and of itself). In any other movie, he’d seem to be the obvious choice for the hero of the story. Not in Casablanca.

Between the two is Ilsa. She’s with Victor, and was in love with Rick, and is the one person Rick ever truly loved. She is currently stuck in the middle, the balancing act between the idealism and the cynicism, and the bridge between the characters. She’s a strong woman who’s been through a lot of pain that she keeps under wraps, and it shows in her interactions with both Rick and Victor.

Three different characters, all stuck in Casablanca for their own very good reasons, and of course, all end up in each other’s lives, under the pressure of the Gestapo. This leaves very little room for coincidence, and serves as an excellent setup for the situation and the characters involved. Even more showcased are the contrasting characters, all falling on different sides of a moral chart ranging from the upright Victor to the neutral Rick, to the corrupt Renault, to the evil Strasser.

Speaking of which, let’s get back to the story.

Victor and Ilsa arrive in Captain Renault’s office the next morning for their appointment, just moments after Strasser informs Renault that he believes that Ugarte left those important letters of transit with Rick. Strasser, upon seeing the couple, informs Victor that there is exactly one way he can get out of Casablanca: if Victor gives up the names and locations of the leaders of the underground movement rising against the Third Reich.

Victor, being the stone-cold patriot that he is, doesn’t talk, and he and Ilsa leave Renault’s office, but not before being told that Ugarte is dead.

Meanwhile, Rick decides to pay Signor Ferarri a visit at Ferarri’s club, The Blue Parrot, to pick up a shipment that’s due. Ferarri tells Rick that he’ll send the shipment to him when it comes in, and knowingly remarks that he’d pay a lot of money for the missing letters of transit. Rick lets on that he definitely knows something, but leaves it at that, and goes on his way, meeting Ilsa in the market on his way out.

Now in a sober state of mind, Rick tries to persuade Ilsa to explain to him what happened in Paris, but Ilsa refuses, preferring to think of older, happier times than the recent barbed encounter. She does however, impart a very large bombshell:

Victor Lazlo is her husband. Not only that, he has been her husband, and she was married to him during her romance with Rick in Paris.

She leaves him with that information and leaves, with her husband, for the place Rick just left: The Blue Parrot.

Once inside, the two attempt to bargain with Ferarri to get them out of Casablanca. Ferarri explains that he can’t get Victor out, but he might be able to arrange for a way to get Ilsa out. Ilsa, unwilling to leave her husband, turns him down. Rejected but not bitter, Ferarri tells the couple that the missing letters of transit were not with Ugarte during his arrest, and that they are probably with Rick.

It doesn’t exactly seem to be a secret.

Back at Rick’s Café Americain, Renault still hasn’t found the transit papers, even after searching Rick’s place. The Captain has a conversation with Strasser, who is worried about the level of influence Victor Lazlo might have on the people.

“It is too dangerous if we let him go. It may be too dangerous if we let him stay.”

Just then, Victor approaches Rick and says that he wants to talk to him, in private. Rick agrees, and they move to his office, where Victor tries to convince Rick to give him the letters of transit. Rick refuses, flat-out stating he won’t let them have them at any price. When Victor asks why, Rick tells him to ask his wife.

Confused, Victor heads back to the main room, where a bunch of German officers are exuberant playing and singing a patriotic German song. Victor springs into action, getting the club’s band to play the “Marseillaise” over them. Around the room, the refugees in Rick’s Café Americain stand, singing the French National Anthem as loudly as they can. It’s a powerful moment, but unfortunately, it catches Strasser’s attention.

Now certain that Victor’s presence is a disturbance, inspiring the populace against the Third Reich, Strasser orders Renault to close down Rick’s, and get everyone out. As the place is clearing, Strasser tells Ilsa that she and her husband are in danger, and will be until they allow Strasser to take them back to German-occupied France.

Back in Victor and Ilsa’s hotel room, Victor confronts Ilsa, telling her about Rick’s response to his attempt to get the letters. Ilsa doesn’t really tell him anything, but he pieces it together anyway, and forgives her for drifting away while he was in a concentration camp, before leaving to attend an underground resistance meeting.

Meanwhile, Rick heads home to his apartment above his club, and realizes he’s not alone. Ilsa snuck in the back, and has been waiting for him. She pleads with him to get over his bitterness towards her, and think about the bigger picture. Rick, however, doesn’t really want to.

Ilsa isn’t willing to let it go at that, and pulls a gun on him. Rick calls her bluff, knowing she won’t actually shoot him, and Ilsa tells him that he has no idea what she’s been through, and that she did love him, and still does. After a brief reconciliation, Ilsa begins to explain what happened in Paris.

Before she met Rick, Ilsa had been married to Victor, who, she was told, had been shot and killed. She wasn’t lying when she said the other man in her life was dead, she’d legitimately thought that, and that’s why she let herself fall in love with Rick. As it turns out, Victor wasn’t dead (obviously) but in a concentration camp. The day he escaped was the day Ilsa was to meet Rick on the train station platform to escape Paris. Ilsa, finding this out, stayed with her husband, and sent the note to Rick, explaining that they couldn’t be together.

Ilsa in the present says that she can’t bring herself to leave Rick again, but pleads with him to at least get Victor out of Casablanca, telling him to do the thinking for all of them.

As it happens, Victor enters the club downstairs, led by one of Rick’s employees who was at the same underground resistance meeting with him. Rick calls his employee upstairs, has him sneak Ilsa back home out the back, while he goes downstairs to talk to Victor.

No sooner does Rick join Victor at the bar that Victor begins to try to get the letters of transit from Rick again, this time saying that, if he won’t give Victor one, at least give Ilsa one so she can get out. Rick seems impressed by this show of love, but before he can give a definitive answer, a group of French officers barge in and arrest Victor.

The next morning, Rick enters Captain Renault’s office, and tells him that he and Ilsa are running away to America, and that the last person they would want to run into would be Victor. Rick explains that, instead of holding Victor on a flimsy, fictional charge, it would be a better idea of Renault released Victor, and catch him in the act of trying to get the letters of transit off of Rick. This way, Renault can put Victor away as accessory to the murder of the German couriers, for good. Renault, liking the sound of this, agrees. After this, Rick drops by The Blue Parrot to sell Rick’s Café Americain to Signor Ferarri, on the condition that all of his employees keep their jobs.

That night, at Rick’s club, Renault shows up to help with the plan to get Victor arrested, and hides as Ilsa rushes in, worriedly telling Rick that Victor thinks that Ilsa’s going with him, not Rick. Rick assures her that everything’s going to be fine, and Victor enters. Rick hands over the letters of transit, and Renault springs from hiding, arresting Victor.

A lot happens at once.

Ilsa rushes to Victor, and all of a sudden, Rick has a gun out and trained on Renault. He orders Renault to sit down (hands where he can see them) and call the airport to tell them that two people are leaving for Casablanca for Lisbon, and to not give them any trouble.

Renault pulls a fast one on Rick’s fast one, though, and calls Strasser instead, unbeknownst to Rick.

Strasser, being unfortunately intelligent, figures out what’s going on and orders a police squad to meet him at the airport, and heads out to stop them before they can get out.

Rick, Renault, Ilsa and Victor arrive at the airport, and Rick tells one of the orderlies to put Victor and Ilsa’s baggage on the plane. Ilsa, realizing that Rick is planning to stay behind, is heartbroken, reluctant to leave him again.

“You’re saying this only to make me go.”

“I’m saying it because it’s true. Inside of us, we both know you belong with Victor. You’re part of his work, the thing that keeps him going. If that plane leaves the ground and you’re not with him, you’ll regret it. Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow, but soon and for the rest of your life.”

“But what about us?”

“We’ll always have Paris. We didn’t have, we, we lost it until you came to Casablanca. We got it back last night.”

“When I said I would never leave you.

“And you never will. But I’ve got a job to do, too. Where I’m going, you can’t follow. What I’ve got to do, you can’t be any part of. Ilsa, I’m no good at being noble, but it doesn’t take much to see that the problems of three little people don’t amount to a hill of beans in this crazy world. Someday you’ll understand that.”

Rick finally puts the big picture ahead of his own little one, and does the right thing. Knowing Ilsa belongs with Victor, he lets her go, and rushes them both onto the plane, which starts down the runway at the exact second Strasser pulls in.

Strasser tries to put in a call to the radio tower to stop that plane, but is abruptly interrupted by Rick shooting him in the chest. Strasser falls, dead, as all of the cops show up.

It looks like it’s curtains for our hero. Renault tells the officers that Strasser has been shot, and after a tense moment, the corrupt Captain decides not to turn Rick in.

“Major Strasser has been shot…..Round up the usual suspects.”

The plane takes off, and Renault advises Rick to leave Casablanca for a while. He also suggests that perhaps they could leave together and do some good. The pair walk off into the fog, as Rick drops the final, iconic line:

“Louie, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”

Thus ends one of the most beloved films of all time.

At first, the end of this movie can seem a little abrupt. After spending so much time building up the story, it almost seems like the ending comes rushing in, changing everything in the last twenty minutes. Rick’s last-minute gambit can seem almost as though all of his development was done in the last third of the film. It’s clear that he’s a changed man, alright, but it can seem kind of rushed, if you don’t look carefully at the entire film.

You see, throughout the movie, Rick regularly declares: ‘I stick my neck out for no one,’ but the fact is, that isn’t really true.

While Rick presents a bitter and cold demeanor, the fact is, throughout the entire film, he does little else than stick his neck out for other people. If all he cared about was his own security and success, he’s doing a terrible job at it.

From refusing to sell his club to rigging the roulette tables for a refugee couple, Rick’s tendency to fight for the underdog never really dies down. His most selfish actions are as a direct result of a broken heart, a bitter edge grown after the only woman he’s ever loved left him without explanation.

Rick is obviously a changed man by the end, but it has less to do with his morals, and more to do with his duty.

You see, Rick serves as both a character and a picture of America. With a story set during December of 1941, a ‘neutral’ American character who must decide whether or not to take a stand in the war. It’s no coincidence that his ending comes about when he lets go of his own selfish desires and looks at the big picture, and puts the world first, over what would make him happiest. For Rick to grow into a better person, he has to let Ilsa go.

He’s not the only one sacrificing, though.

Throughout the film, the number of sacrifices characters are willing to make are staggering, and it’s quickly obvious that the ones who are willing are heroic, the ones who aren’t are villains. Strasser is very concerned about the risks of having Victor around, but plays it safe. Renault, originally content to do anything to save his own skin, eventually sacrifices his safety in Casablanca for the greater good.

The character who is willing to sacrifice the most is, of course, the most heroic character. Victor Lazlo, having escaped a concentration camp and been pursued by the Third Reich, is willing to give up his wife and his freedom, safety, and life to make sure that Ilsa is safe. He is unaware of Ilsa’s past, and doesn’t feel the need to be. His love and his duty mix together, his goals blend, and therefore, as the most heroic character, the character that might traditionally be the protagonist, he is also the least conflicted character. As a matter of fact, the honor of most conflicted character goes to his wife.

Ilsa’s sacrifice is on both sides. Torn between her husband and the man she fell in love with years prior, Ilsa has little choice in who she boards that plane with, and is uncertain of which man is going with her until the very end. She is willing to sacrifice her life of freedom with her husband to stay with Rick, initially choosing gratification over duty, but in the end, comes to the same conclusion that Rick does: The right thing for her to do is to go with her husband, to freedom.

It’s a bittersweet ending, but it’s also one that ties up all the loose ends, and the only possible satisfactory ending for the characters. The audience feels the same pull as the characters, the same division between duty and desire, but we know, as does Rick, that in the end, he has to look at the big picture. That’s the genius of Casablanca. It asks the audience to consider the same moral questions it asks of its characters:

Are you willing to sacrifice for the greater good?

Rick, like America, is waking up and realizing that he has to do something to fight injustice, and that to do that, he has to be willing to give up his personal happiness, to allow himself to be an idealist, and to keep fighting for lost causes.

The ending is heartbreaking, yes. But unlike heartbreaking endings where we rage against the disservice done the characters, this bittersweet ending is the only possible ending for all of the characters to maintain their integrity, the only way they can all do the right thing.

And we applaud them for it. It’s a perfect ending to what’s pretty darn close to a perfect story. But of course, there’s more to a movie than a story.

In the articles ahead, we’re going to be taking a look at some of the other important elements to the story of Casablanca, so if you enjoyed this one, stick around and join us! Don’t forget that my ask box is always open for questions, requests, comments, or just a conversation. Thanks so much for reading, and I hope to see you in the next article.

#Casablanca #Casablanca 1942 #1942 #40s #Film #Movies #War #Drama #Romance #PG #Humphrey Bogart #Ingrid Bergman #Paul Henreid #Claude Rains #Dooley Wilson #Sydney Greenstreet #Conrad Viedt #Michael Curtiz

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shineonmalcolmbright · 4 years

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Shine On, Bright: Chapter Nineteen

Table of Contents

Past

I’ve heard this song before.

Such a regular thought but one Malcolm cannot quite pinpoint why it’s a problem. For some reason, the Overlook only catered to those who enjoyed older music. The type he imagined being played on phonographs from movies he’s only ever heard or seen satirized but not seen himself. The sort where men with such square jaws mumble phrases like: Out of all the gin joints in the world, she had to walk into mine.

Malcolm sat up but his movement felt like the noise of scraping cloth across velvet. A dryness was to it causing him to wince. He had no idea how he got there or where he was for that matter. He laid in the middle of a large room in the Overlook.

Music played while glasses scraped away. There were a few people laughing and other people chatting, but never from anybody he recognized. He sat up though knowing this song. It sounded live as if somebody played it in the room. He sat up there looking around. Tables collected dust with chairs on top of them.

The music continued to play as well as all the other sounds, but it wasn’t even like anybody was around. A single glass sat at the bar though. There were plenty behind it without a sign of alcohol. Glasses for pure decoration and a single pint glass full of beer sat on the bar as if it were waiting for him or probably something more of age for drinking in the United States.

You must remember this. . . The song begged. A different tune than the one from the woman in. . .

“Hello?” Malcolm said to the bar staring at the single beer waiting.

He looked around him. The floor was pretty dusty, a mess except there weren’t any footprints on how he got there. Not at all. Instead, it looked as if he slid or crawled across the floor to lie underneath a table to watch old dry gum hang out to such sad old songs.

. . .There was a woman in Room 217. He was pretty sure he saw her, but couldn’t recall if it was moments ago or a few days ago.

At first, he thought she was showering and singing a different sort of sad song than the one currently playing. Not one to remember but one reminding him that, he’ll be seeing her again.

Only as he crept closer the memory faded as if somebody cracked it open like an egg and peeled the shell of it away. She’d been standing there and showering until he stood right before the mint green tub to realize instead, a woman was curled up inside of the bathtub looking dead, very dead, dead in the tub.

It’s still the same old story, A fight for love and glory, a case of do or die. . .

“Malcolm!” Martin stood in the doorway to the bar area. Malcolm didn’t move toward him because it’d be like he pushed his way through velvet. Something was wrong with his brain. Martin made his way across the room. His movement caused dust to fly up all over the place. “My boy, where have you been? What are you even doing in here?”

Malcolm said nothing while he continued to stand there. He realized his notebook was on the floor and went to pick it up but Martin got it first. His notebook and pencil. He looked down at it, at some of the words across the pages. Martin said nothing at first letting the music play and play and play while there were still the whispers of invisible conversations. Somebody clinked glasses together laughing as they said “Slainte” while others said “Cheers.”

Martin looked up from the notebook. “What’s this?”

Looking at the ground, Malcolm shrugged. “Research.”

“Research? What kind of research?”

Again, Martin paged through his pages notes on Family Annihilator and other murders he found hiding in the corners of the Overlook. A drawing of the strange Irish Elk topiary that attacked him with a few vague sketches of unrelated birds. Then in a corner, there were brief notes with a lot of question marks surrounding the woman he found in Room 217.

Martin stared at that single page for a few minutes before he snapped his attention back up to his son, “Malcolm. . .did you see somebody else staying here?”

Of course Malcolm had a finger pointing at the information about her. Even the quick vague hums he heard from her as he wrote showering (?) but also he wrote dead (?) and Who could she be? And how did she get here?

“No. . .” Malcolm whispered. “I think. . .it was just my imagination, I think.”

“You and your imagination.” Martin chuckled. He closed the notebook handing it back to Malcolm. “Either way, don’t you think it’s a little inappropriate to sneak up on somebody in the shower?”

All Martin got out of him was a nod while Malcolm stared at the floor.

“Is there anything you’d like to talk about?” Martin took one of the seats down off the table to sit so he’d be closer to eye level with Malcolm who refused to look up.

“I don’t think so.”

Martin smiled at him and Malcolm partially peered up. “I’ve heard it can get lonely out here so if you need to talk, please understand, you can always talk to me.”

Malcolm nodded while looking at his father.

“But I am going to have to draw the line at. . .” Martin used his thumb to point over his shoulder at the beer sitting on the bar. “. . .I am going to have to draw the line at drinking alcohol alone. You should come to me first so we can share your first drink, I’ll lay out the rule, but just don’t tell your mother.”

“. . .Right. . .” whispered Malcolm, taking a step to the side.

Malcolm met Martin’s eyes coming real close to let him know for a fact that the beer was just there, he somehow just woke up at a bar without any memory of how he got there. Didn’t sound the best defense but something simmered underneath the majority of Martin’s thoughts.

The loudest layer of his thoughts were a checklist. Going through all of the hotel responsibilities and making sure he didn’t forget the boiler room otherwise the entire place would blow up. Yet Malcolm almost clung too tight to a quiet one, it snaked his way out and into his heart for some reason. He couldn’t know. Does he? He’s smart. No. How would he?

“Are you sure there’s nothing wrong?” Martin asked Malcolm.

“No.” For added effect, Malcolm shook his head.

We’ll have to keep our eye on him. Martin chuckled giving his shoulder a little push. “You sure? You’re standing there staring at me and it’s a little weird.” What would I do if he even. . .?

“Can I choose the next song?” Malcolm changed the subject not wanting to go where his father was about to travel. Didn’t sound good. Something wasn’t right.

“Music?” Martin looked around. A different layer leaped to the top of his thoughts. What? What’s he talking about? What? “What are you talking about? What music?”

“Oh. Nevermind. . .!”

Malcolm scooted away from Martin, he hugged his research and pencil to his chest. He was about to make a quick exit when he realized Mr. Watkins now sat at the bar. At some point, he must’ve walked in when Malcolm acted all squirrely. Watkins raised a glass in his direction while somebody moved behind the counter, he cleaned a pint glass before putting it behind them.

As Malcolm took a closer look or really, it felt almost as if he stared longer at the shelves the more he realized bottles were full with light shining through them almost making it look as if they glowed.

“I love this song,” the bartender commented. He leaned over to turn up the volume on the radio. The tune of the Woman from Room 217 played over the speaker while Watkins carefully drank keeping an eye on Malcolm standing there.

Somewhere behind, Malcolm heard his father call out. “Is something wrong, Malcolm?” But Malcolm didn’t look back at him. “We can always listen to your Music head or whatever it’s called you like, no problem.” What does he know?

Malcolm inhaled deeply while he stared at the bottled alcohol and the bartender moved about there, cleaning up and wasn’t a person Malcolm ever saw before.

The bartender looked at him raising an eyebrow. “Can I help you out, son?”

Malcolm shook his head.

The music played:

I’ll be seeing you in all the old familiar place that this heart of mine embraces, all day and through. In that small cafe, the park across the way, the children’s carousel. . .

No answer came up because Malcolm darted off hugging his research closer to himself. He didn’t stop until he reached the elevators and collapsed into the wall beside them heaving for air. His head and lungs felt rock solid. Thoughts weren’t coming upright. He closed his eyes and struck a button listening to the it chug along with a pointer ticking away calculating the different floors. Something wasn’t right. Something wasn’t right. Not right.

But what wasn’t right?

#shineonbrightfic #prodigal son #malcolm bright #malcolm bright whump #the shining #overlook hotel #prodigal son fic #prodigal son fanfic #prodigies

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missmudpie · 4 years

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Name Ten Films That Have, For Whatever Reason, Stuck With You

@millennialfangirl tagged me, and this was harder than I thought and I might have gone over the ten. Also, tumblr is being tumblr and not cooperating with gifs, so only the first film has one. Here they are, in chronological order:

Casablanca, 1942

Look, Casablanca is the best film ever made. Is it my favorite? No, but it’s the best, much better than Citizen Kane, which is often heralded as the pinnacle of cinema but is about a rich old white guy who loves his sled.

Here’s looking at you, kid. Of all the Gin joints. Round up the usual suspects! I’m shocked - shocked!- to find that gambling is going on in here (Your winnings, sir.). This is the beginning of a beautiful friendship. As Time Goes By. Humphrey Bogart and Ingrid Bergman and a supporting cast to die for. Renault throwing away the bottle of Vichy water.

I could go on, but here’s why Casablanca has stuck with me: It’s one of my Dad’s favorite movies, too. When I think of Casablanca, I think of him. One Christmas (I can’t remember if I was in high school or college), the old timey theater in town played Casablanca. I got us tickets as his Christmas present. It is one of my favorite movie-going experiences (more on that below).

Star Wars, 1977

When I was little, we used to go to my maternal grandparents’ house every Tuesday, and I would watch Star Wars. I was probably waaaaay too young - there’s audio of me playing out Star Wars with my My Little Ponies and I was like, three. On my college essay, I wrote about how Return of the Jedi was my first movie (true story, I was six months old and slept through the whole thing, because apparently taking your sleeping infant to the movies is something parents did in the ‘80s).

Star Wars is where I learned about the Hero’s Journey. About princesses and rebellions and wizards and flying spaceships. I devoured the Timothy Zahn books and Young Jedi Knights series. And yes, I’m a little down on it all after Episode IX - but I still love it. It has impacted me in so many ways. I know my life would be the poorer for not having seen it.

Raiders of the Lost Ark, 1981

If Princess Leia was the first damsel I saw who get herself out of distress, Marian Ravenwood was the one who solidified the idea that women were perfectly capable of getting into and out of trouble themselves, thank you very much. Then there’s Harrison Ford in being Peak Harrison Ford as Indiana Jones - Intelligent, clever, brave-bordering-on-reckless. Who wouldn’t want to go on far-flung adventures to find hidden treasure, and maybe punch some Nazis while you’re at it?

The Goonies, 1985

Speaking of far-flung adventures, how about going on one in your hometown? Booby-traps, pirates, Italian gangsters, Sloth, hidden treasure - it’s every kid’s playtime fantasy come magically to life. I still want to go down those tunnel slides and shoot out into a hidden lagoon. They just don’t make movies like this any more - fun, family movies that don’t dumb down the action or characterization for kids, that’s a ride for both kids and parents alike. This was the first movie I showed my kids during quarantine.

The Princess Bride, 1987

Inconceivable. The Six Fingered Man. Death cannot stop truly love. Only mostly dead. Have fun storming the castle! Hello, my name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die. ROUSes.

This is a perfect movie. It is. It is lightning in a bottle and it should never, ever be remade (those were just rumors, right?). This is romance and humor and suspense and two of the best swordfights in cinematic history (fight me on this. No, really, fight me. I took fencing in college because of this movie), all wrapped up in the sweetest Happily Ever After. I love it so much.

Jurassic Park, 1993

I’ve told this story before, but here it is again. In the summer of 1993, I was 10 and my sisters were 8 and just turned 6, and we convinced our parents that we were for sure old enough to see Jurassic Park - a book my mother had read and thus knew what level of horror to expect. It did not go well. I ended up burying my head in my dad’s chest; my youngest sister was in my mom’s lap; and my middle sister, with no where left to go, ended up under the seat in front of her.

Now, it’s the movie we quote (Hold on to your butts). When my youngest had jello recently, I told him to hold it up and look scared, then texted the picture around. We all knew immediately what I meant. The DVDs are given as gifts and then immediately stolen. My youngest sister can recite the entire movie. I can’t wait to scare my sons with it.

The Shawshank Redemption, 1994

I don’t remember this movie when it came out; I remember it was this movie I hadn’t really heard of at the Oscars, where it won none. Not until I was much older did I realize what a travesty that was. I first watched this on a pep band bus trip in college - not the time or place to truly appreciate it. Months later, I rented it (remember renting movies?) and fell in love with it.

This is a beautiful movie about friendship and hope and finding light in the darkness. It’s always on TV, and I will always stop and watch at least a few minutes of it. The ending - the last half hour, really - is pure cinematic poetry, but noting beats Red’s monologue as he travels to find Andy on that Mexican beach.

That Thing You Do!, 1996

This movie is Capital-D-Delightful. Just thinking about it makes me smile. This is the movie that tipped me from Tom Hanks Fan to I Love Tom Hanks and Need Him to Be My Best Friend. He WROTE and DIRECTED this gem of a movie. The talent. The song is legitimately catchy, the characters are Wonder-ful (see what I did there?), and it’s all in Day-Glo ‘60s color. I love this movie and make no apologies.

Toy Story 2, 1999

Speaking of Tom Hanks, this is my favorite Toy Story. Look, the first is a technological marvel, but Woody is an ass throughout most of the film. The fourth is it’s own thing, and the third is really, really good and I ugly sob at the end, but it’s also got a lot going on there. But the second - oh the second is beautiful in its simplicity. In addition to all of Andy’s toys, we get Jesse and Bullseye and even Stinky Pete. It’s an ode to friendship and love and the realization that life, for toys and people, eventually ends, and we have to appreciate every moment we have now. It is my favorite Toy Story.

Finding Nemo, 2003

I don’t know if it’s my favorite Pixar film, though. It depends on the day, but most of the time that distinction goes to Finding Nemo. I first saw it when I was twenty, a decade before my first kid was born, but it has greatly influenced how I parent. The conversation between Dory and Marlin in the whale, the idea that keeping anything from happening to your kid cuts both ways, the leap of faith, the mantra of “just keep swimming,” the notion that your kids don’t just want, but need to have independence - it’s all there, in Pixar’s stunning ocean animation. I get choked up just thinking about it. “Now go have an adventure!”

Honorable Mentions:

Forrest Gump, 1994

I loved this movie. I love Tom Hanks in this movie. I would watch it in snippets during college, while I ate dinner or lunch or just needed a quick study break. But it’s been years since I last saw it, and I wonder if it still holds up. It’s a Boomer movie made when the Boomers were - basically, just a little older than we old Millennials are now. It’s American history in the last half of the twentieth century, but the big events - Vietnam, Civil Rights, even AIDS - are filtered through the lens of a straight white man who kinda wanders into history but doesn’t really get why the moments are historic. I feel like it’s a film I appreciated at a certain time, but wouldn’t love as much now.

Avengers: Endgame, 2019

There just hasn’t been enough time for this movie to make the list. Ask about it again in ten years. Although, to be honest, I haven’t seen the whole thing since I saw it in theaters, and I fear it won’t live up. It was the best movie-going experience I’ve ever had. The crowd was so into it, and the last battle had everyone, me included, screaming at the screen. Part of what makes Endgame so special to me is that, among the three big franchises that ended last year (Avengers, Star Wars, Game of Thrones), this one actually stuck the landing. And yes, I could argue that Steve Rogers’ end doesn’t actual make any sense and deprives Peggy Carter of her agency - but in the emotional moment of the film, it worked. That portal scene is the culmination of twenty-plus films, and I still can’t believe it works as well as it does.

Thanks again for this! I second tagging @lerayon for this. I feel like I’m kinda cold-calling mutuals from our Arrow days, so no pressure. But I’d love to hear what @machawicket @dust2dust34 @dettiot @theshipsfirstmate have on their lists.

#Miss Mudpie watches too many movies #Fandom Friends

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bestieverharry · 4 years

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A/N: This is going to be a multi-part series, not sure how long yet! I had some recent inspiration that made me want to write.

Summary: While dealing with a difficult time in her life, Y/N is introduced to Harry unexpectedly and he ends up helping her see life in ways she never thought she would see again.

TW: Deals with death, anxiety, and depression topics

MASTERLIST

Groaning loudly, Y/N rolled over in her bed and blindly felt around for her buzzing phone in the darkness of her bedroom. Swiping the screen to answer and bringing the phone to her ear, she let out a hoarse “hello” to whoever was on the other line.

“Are you still in bed? It’s almost four, hun.” Y/N’s best friend Molly was on the other end, most likely being the same person that had called nearly a dozen times before Y/N decided to actually answer the phone.

“No, I’m not in bed. Must be coming down with something.” Y/N made no effort to change her voice, knowing that her friend of nearly seven years could see right through her lies. She heard Molly sigh in worry.

“Well Sarah is having a bunch of people over to her’s tonight and I think it would be great for you to come..” Sarah was a newer friend of Molly’s Y/N had never met. Y/N could already feel her head begin to throb as she quickly thought about all of the excuses she has used recently.

“I don’t know, Molly. I’ve got a lot on at the minute. I-”

“No excuses, this time Y/N. You need to get out of that flat of your’s, it’s not healthy to be cooped up in here all of the time.”

Y/N reached over the flicked on the lamp on her bedside table, shutting her eyes as light illuminated the room for the first time in a long time. Slowly sitting up in her bed, every joint and muscle in her body ached.

“I-I don’t know, Molly. It’s just a lot right now.” Y/N ran a hand through her matted, dirty hair as she felt anxiety began to fill her body once again.

“Let’s give it a go, yeah? You say the word and we can leave, no questions asked. I’ll pick you up at eight.” Molly quickly ended the call before Y/N could mutter another excuse.

Sighing loudly, she looked up at the ceiling before scanning the room in front of her. Empty plates and glasses, dirty clothes, and clean ones that have not been touched in a very long time glittered the entire room, mimicking what most of her flat looked like at the moment.

It had been four months since it happened and Y/N still felt this heavyweight in her chest everywhere she went and every time she breathed. That heavyweight feeling has consumed her entirely, making it hard for her to eat, sleep, clean and certainly socialise.

Those who cared for her have been patient as she turned into a ghost - bailing on plans, leaving her phone off for days, and completely cutting off communication with the outside world apart from Molly who is always relentless and also has a key to her flat.

Molly was all Y/N really had at the moment. With her parents halfway around the world and unable to visit as much as she would like, the feelings of loneliness and being alienated have taken over her entire life, aspects she is partly to blame for.

Rising from her bed, Y/N drew back the curtains and stared as the sun began to set over the horizon, winter not giving much daylight to enjoy these days. Carefully stepping over empty soda cans and various pairs of shoes, Y/N made her way to the shower, determined to at least look remotely presentable for this evening (although she didn’t plan on staying long).

After scrubbing her skin raw with a loofa and scalding hot water, Y/N put on a simple pair of black jeans, a sweater, and a pair of Vans.

Searching on her bedroom floor for her jacket, her fingertips came in contact with fabric she instantly recognized and immediately caused her heart to ache. Picking up the familiar blue and green checked shirt, Y/N brought the material to her nose and slowly inhaled, allowing the distinct scent to fill her senses. Sitting on the edge of her unmade bed, she clutched onto the fabric as if it was going to disappear at any moment, her eyes welling up with tears as memories clouded her mind.

With the shirt still close to her chest, Y/N leaned back in her bed, finding herself paralyzed by all of the memories that whirled around in her brain. Some were bad, some were good, but overall, that feeling of both helplessness and immobility began to take over her body at that moment. So Y/N laid there as time ticked away from seconds to minutes to hours, clutching the shirt as tears rolled down her cheeks until she heard Molly’s familiar knock at the door.

“Ah, Molly it’s so nice to see you. And you must be, Y/N. I’ve heard wonderful things.” Sarah warmly greeted Y/N and Molly as they walked into Sarah’s flat. Y/N gave her a small smile as she took in all of the people that were mingling in the flat, her anxiety starting to become too much.

Scanning the room, she didn’t recognize any familiar faces much to her relief, not wanting to spend the next hour engaging in small talk about where the fuck she has been the last few months.

“Drinks are just in the kitchen through there and I can introduce you to everyone later.” Sarah said before she scattered off and disappeared into the next room. Y/N took a deep breath and her and Molly hung up their coats and made their way into the kitchen.

Molly was quick to make the two of them some gin and tonics as Y/N avoided eye contact with everyone around them.

“It’s going to be fine, Y/N. Just say the word and we can go, promise.” Molly said as she handed the mixed drink to Y/N, ushering her into the living room where most of the people were. Molly was quick to engage with a familiar face as the two of them sat down on one of the blush pink loveseats.

Molly introduced Y/N to a guy named Adam before the two of them began a conversation Y/N was completely zoned out from. It felt weird being in a room full of people that knew nothing about Y/N or what had transpired the last few months. It was crazy how easy it was for Y/N to just put on a brave face and act like nothing was wrong.

Scanning the room, everyone was drinking and chatting with each other, looking happy amongst the holiday decorations and Christmas tree that stood in the corner. This used to be Y/N’s favorite time of the year, but now all she wanted was it to be over.

“Ah, Y/N loves that venue. We go to gigs there all of the time.” Y/N zoned back into the conversation, giving a small smile and acting like she knew what they were talking about.

“Oh really? Well if you both want to come to the gig, let us know and we can guest list you. The whole thing is kind of secret though so don’t spread the word about it.” Adam spoke smoothly, giving absolutely no hint as to what the conversation was even about so all Y/N did was smile at Adam and nod her head in agreement with Molly.

“That would be amazing, we’ve never seen you guys play live before so I am sure it will be an incredible show.” Molly spoke on behalf of the two of them, Y/N quickly parted her lips to object to the invitation but thought it might come off rude so she just nodded again in agreement.

As the two of them continued to chat, Y/N’s eyes began to scan the room once more. Sarah was just opposite of them, sitting on another crowd, deep in conversation with a few girls she had never seen before. Everyone was laughing and drinking with one another, looking happy and content. Y/N wondered if she looked weird sitting there and not talking to anyone, portraying the sad and pathetic mess she felt like.

Quickly polishing off her gin and tonic, Y/N rose from the couch and excused herself, needing a few minutes of quiet. Making her way through the relatively crowded flat, she walked down a long hallway and opened up the door that stood at the end of it. Quickly peeking her head in, she saw it was an empty bedroom and breathed a small sigh of relief.

Shutting the door behind her, she plopped down on the end of the bed, burying her head in her hands in the dimly lit room. Her body still ached and she wanted nothing more than to just crawl back into her head. Socializing and being around people was something she used to love so why was she having such a hard time with it now? She lived for this kind of stuff, just hanging around with friends and having a few drinks while chatting shit about drama and things that didn’t really matter.

Over the past few months, Y/N was really able to see who her true friends are. As she fell off the map and lost contact with people, she found that most of her friends stopped reaching out and she couldn’t really blame them. Molly was really the only one that has stuck around and she was so thankful for her.

As she was deep in her thoughts, Y/N suddenly heard the door open causing her to quickly lift her face up from her hands. She watched as someone emerged from the en-suite bathroom she hadn’t noticed when she walked into the room. Her cheeks turned pink from embarrassment, knowing she probably looked so pathetic sitting there with her head in her hands.

“Sorry, I-I didn’t realize anyone was in here.” Y/N spoke quickly, moving to get up from the bed before she was stopped.

“No worries, I just needed to get out of there for a minute.” He spoke as he pointed towards the living room where everyone was currently. Squinting her eyes in the dim light of the bedroom, the light from the bathroom illuminating his silhouette, Y/N could just make out the tiny features on his face which caused her cheeks to go even redder.

“I’m Harry.” He spoke, reaching his ring-clad hand for Y/N to shake. Hesitantly, she shook it as she tried to gather why the fuck Harry Styles would be at this party. She wasn’t too familiar with his music, but she would be an idiot to not know who he was.

“I’m Y/N.” She spoke softly as Harry took a seat in the chair across from her, her eyes instantly drifting to his tattooed arms and technicoloured painted fingernails. They sat in silence for a few awkward moments, Y/N trying to wrap her brain around what was happening.

She can remember Molly mentioning his name once or two recently, but she must have been too zoned out at the time to remember what she was talking about.

“How do you know, Sarah?” He asked, trying hard to fill the empty room and the silence that filled it. Tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear, Y/N cleared her throat.

“I actually just met her. I am here with my friend Molly.”

“Oh I know, Molly. She’s really cool. Have you known her long?” Y/N could feel her eyebrows fume in confusion, why was he engaging in a conversation with her?

“I-umm, we’ve been best friends for years.” Y/N watched as he leaned against the door frame, a curious look on his face as Y/N began to pick at the skin around her fingernails out of nervous habit.

“Oh, I’m surprised I haven’t seen you around before then, Molly is always around when we are in town. Do you work in music as well?” Harry asked, raising the glass that rested in his hand up to his lips as his intense stare burned into Y/N’s skin.

“Uh-yeah. W-work is actually why I’ve been away, I just got back the other day.” Clearing her throat uncomfortably, Y/N rose from her spot on the bed and tried to give Harry a reassuring smile as she walked towards the door.

“Oh from where? Anywhere good?” Harry asked semi-eagerly, keen on keeping the conversation going for whatever reason. Y/N could feel her face turn a deeper red as she continued to dig a hole in the lie she had created.

“You know, just kind of everywhere. I better get back out there, but it was um-nice to meet you.” Y/N stammered out, still not really registering that she had met Harry Styles and he actually wanted to talk to her.

Y/N was out the door before she had a chance to hear his reply or before he had the chance to stop her with another question. She quickly walked back to where Molly sat, tapping her on her shoulder, and giving her the “look” that she wanted to leave. Although Molly can be pushy sometimes, she always honors her word and when she said they could leave at any point, she meant it.

Molly nodded back to Y/N as she turned back to Adam, mumbling some excuse for the two of them and saying that she will see him the following weekend before taking Y/N’s hand. As they grabbed their coats from the hallway, Y/N looked up and locked eyes with Harry. She hadn’t noticed how green they were before. They each exchanged small smiles with one another from across the room before Molly and she made their quick escape out of the flat.

“Did something happen? Do you want to talk about it?” Molly asked as the two of them continued down the winding stairs to the street outside. A pang of guilt hit Y/N’s body, she knew that Molly probably wanted to stay and felt bad for dragging her friend away for something so minuscule.

“No, I-I just didn’t want to be there anymore. I’m sorry, if you want to go back up that’s totally okay. I can grab the tube by myself, really.”

Shaking her head, Molly let out a light-hearted chuckle as she locked arms with Y/N and the two of them began their journey to the tube station.

“Don’t be silly. I’ve got your back always and thank you for trying tonight. Now, let’s get some greasy takeaway and get you home.”

Back in the flat, Harry felt himself staring off into the drink he clutched in his hand, the conversations going on around him in the kitchen turning into sounds of buzzing in his ear.

She had such a sad look in her eyes, but why?

Harry thought to himself as he replayed Y/N’s face over and over again in his head. She seemed shy, reserved, but mostly sad. That is what made Harry want to speak with her, to help get her thoughts off of whatever was going on in her head even though she probably thought the conversation was a weird gesture.

Clearing his thought and shaking his thoughts away, he looked back up at Mitch and Sarah who were leaning against the counter across from them, Mitch’s arm around Sarah.

“I am so surprised Y/N showed up tonight, I wasn’t expecting it at all.” Sarah said casually, happiness in her voice that she was finally able to meet the mystery friend Molly had been talking about.

“Why weren’t you expecting it?” Harry asked subtly, wanting to get as much information out of Sarah as possible about who Y/N was.

“Oh you know, just with everything that has happened with her, I know it’s been really hard. Molly said Y/N hasn’t left her flat much of the past few months.” Sarah’s brows were fumed in concern as Harry looked at her with a blank face, having no idea what she was talking about.

“Y/N said she had been away with work the past few months when I talked to her.”

Both Sarah and Mitch looked at each other the moment Harry spoke, a clear red flag from his close friends that he had said something wrong. Mitch quickly grabbed his drink off the counter and left the kitchen, clearly wanting nothing to do with the conversation anymore.

“Oh, I thought you knew?” Sarah asked cautiously, trying to not omit anything she didn’t have to.

“Know what?” Harry asked, making it as obvious as possible that he had no idea what she was talking about.

Sighing deeply and turning around so she was now leaning against the counter next to Harry, Sarah peered around the kitchen to make sure that no one around was listening to them.

“Y/N hasn’t been away with work. She found her fiance dead a few months ago.”

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles one shot #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #one direction

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mydearsaddiary · 4 years

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Speakeasy Tonight Fanfic- Neil Season 3- Chapter 7

This is a fanfic on how I imagine Speakeasy Tonight’s Neil season 3 would look like. This is chapter 7, here’s a link to all past chapters: https://mydearsaddiary.tumblr.com/NeilSeason3Fanfic

Author notes: Hello again! Sorry this chapter took longer, quarantine is over for me and I have been going to work! However, I already have the next chapters planned out. This whole season is coming to an end. I’m only planning it to go until chapter 10 and there might be a chapter 11 epilogue. However, the actual story is getting to its climax and finish line! As always, please feel free to reach out to me! This chapter and the next few chapters will be all about Mayor Adler and saving the Ice box!

-Thanks for reading it this far!

Candy (7/15/20)

❃ ▼˘ﻌ˘▼ Chapter 7- Flapper and the Dog

I woke up with an uneasy feeling in my chest. It wasn’t a restful sleep. When I opened my eyes I realized I shouldn’t have even been sleeping in the first place. The thought made me jolt up quicker than my body could handle. I felt a wave of dizziness but ignored it. I opened the door dramatically to the kitchen I’d come to know too well. Just then I noticed I was in Neil’s apartment. My memory was foggy, it took me a while to remember everything... Vera is disgraced and missing, Mayor Adler pretended to be shot by her, and he’s got a tight grip on Chicago. I suddenly felt the urge to sleep again.

I was tired, sore and unwilling to move around, but more than anything I was incredibly hungry. I walked to the fridge and opened it to find ice cream, then I found a spoon and started digging into the pot like I had never had anything more delicious in my life. The cold of the dessert calmed down the uncomfortable warmth I was feeling. I looked around and found peanut butter on one of the shelves. Without thinking I opened it and threw half of it inside the ice cream, making a disgusting and excessively sweet mixture. I sat down and ate it still. It was the best thing I had tasted in a while

-I think I might have to call the police and say a malevolent hungry goblin is eating all my food and growling while doing so- The sarcastic voice came from the living room. Neil stood at the door looking at me with what I couldn’t decide if it was judgement or concern.

However what I cared about was that he compared me to an ugly evil green creature- Listen. I am hungry, Mayor Adler sent Vera away so now we’re back to square one and I have to go to the box!- I said eating one more spoonful of my peanut butter vanilla ice cream

-Are you sure you’re up to it?

-I’m not being taken off the board, Neil! I’m the boss of the Ice Box! I have to figure this out, alright?

-I’m talking to a little dog who can’t stop eating and barking at the same time- He teased me again- Why don’t you just take the night off?

-No, no!-I stopped eating, this time breathing in and out to calm myself down, even ignoring the comment he made- I’m sorry. I’m fine, I promise. I was just having a moment

It took a while to convince him, but eventually we were on our way to the box to work out the next steps. A wave of guilt suddenly took control of me. I was lying to Neil. I should tell him... Let him know I’m pregnant, but the future of the Ice Box depended on me not doing so. He might never forgive me for not telling him straight away, but I needed to be involved in all this and he would never let me if he knew. This was all my responsibility so I had to tell him after. However, it didn’t make my conscience weight any less. Was I being reckless? Was I refusing to accept the fact that my delicate condition would force me to step down from the confident, modern and strong woman I tried to be? Was I supposed to accept my womanly duties?

Mother would be thrilled. Married and a pregnant with a rich man’s baby like she always wanted to. Why was it so hard for me to swallow all this? I needed the Ice Box. That’s who Neil loved, the woman that ran this gin joint better than any man. I couldn’t step down, I couldn’t just become a housewife. I was going to solve the ‘Mayor Adler’ riddle, whether I was pregnant or not... Even if my duties meant Neil had to be in the dark a little longer.

-Hey...-I started- I talked to the Wedding planner, she said there’s an opening in February instead of May, right around Valentine’s Day. She asked if I wanted it and I thought it’d be romantic, I meant to ask you what you thought about it?- My hands nervously played with my dress- I mean, if you’re okay with moving up the wedding?

He was quiet for a few seconds, inquisitively. To my surprise, however, he didn’t ask much more about the reason why- I don’t mind one bit- His lips formed a thin line and his deep concentration puzzled me- Can we handle all the preparations by then?

-Y-Yes. She said the invitations were done and as soon as I gave her the okay about the day she’d send them out. Then it’s only the reception and well... The honeymoon, but that’s up to us- I smiled softly. Even with a lot on my shoulders I was excited. I wanted the weather to be nice and May still sounded like the perfect time. But I had to move up the wedding because of the pregnancy. Both of us would be in a lot of trouble if I got married with a huge bump. It’d be quiet the scandal in town and I’m sure Neil would like to avoid that as much as I did.

It dawned on me how I wanted everything to be over and okay

—

The silence in the Ice Box reigned for a while when the whole gang was sitting down together. Even Elliot was there this time. Everyone knew the recent events, but nobody knew how to proceed.

-I found some dirt on the Mayor- Donovan started

I looked at him surprised and a bit of hope surged in my eyes- Well, don’t just leave it at that!

-Don’t get too excited, lassie. I just found out some dealings he has with some people- He started- He pays good money to policemen and gangsters, both of them. That’s how he gets information on everyone in Chicago.

-By getting other people to do his dirty job- I continued- That means he’s got the law on his side and gangsters in his pay. He does like to be in control, but it makes things harder. If he’s giving money directly to a gangster, there’s no actual proof or documents with transactions on them indicating a direct connection with gangsters like with Mayor Peters. Besides, everyone’s loving him now

-I say we kill him- Vince started

-We can’t bump off the Mayor, Vince. If he’s got gangster and policemen, on top of the fact that he’s an official, they’d be looking for the culprit left and right and he’d die a hero to everyone. They could trace us. Our only option is to disgrace him like we did with Peters, it’s just this time it’ll be ten times harder.

-Makes poisoning booze seem like child’s play right now- Neil said sarcastically

-It was- Vince said- Five children to be exact

-What are you thinking, boss?-Cliff asked

I’d tell him not to call me that, but I lost that battle months ago- Donovan, you keep digging, as far as you can go- I told him and he nodded as if he already knew that’s what he had to do- But... We have to figure out a way to enter his house and take every single document or proof he has against anyone in Chicago. If we take his power over anyone then people might not be so willing to help him.

-Only that won’t do- Sofia said- His word alone still means something

-But it’s a first step. He won’t have any proof, it will be harder to say something without proof. He’ll need to be more cautious- I said then thought about my options for a second.

Suddenly my head filled with nothing but a strong smell that made me sick. I turned my head to look at Donovan pouring his Whiskey into his cup. Since when did Whiskey smell that gross? For some reason my whole stomach started to gurgle and I fell the whole Ice cream and peanut butter from before wanting to come back up. Gee, if I threw up right then and there everyone would freak out- I need to go to the bathroom real quick

My escapade was quick but not desperate. I went to the restroom upstairs, so they wouldn’t hear me getting sick. Nevertheless, I didn’t allow myself the time to worry about morning sickness. The whole ordeal and having to wash my mouth afterwards gave me time to think. Maybe if Mayor Adler was willing to do business with gangsters he’d be willing to do business with the Ice Box... It’d be a way into his house and a way to deceive him. I could get closer and see better.

I returned downstairs to find the gang making small conversation. When I showed up they looked at me again. Neil approached me, saying a looked a little pale, but I swore I was fine

-Alright... Here’s the deal. Vince and I are going to strike a deal with the Mayor.

-What?-Neil asked, and I could see everyone was thinking the same thing

-Deceitfully, of course. Mayor Adler pays off gangsters to do his dirty job. He knows about the Ice Box and how I’m involved in it. I could walk in like I want a favor, letting him know that I know he’s got control over the Ice Box. Saying “We’ll do your work for you, please leave us alone”. It’s a way inside his house and closer to his office. It’d give me the chance to figure out how to get in and out of there without being noticed.

-I’m in- Vince said- I’d like to fool that sonuva...

-He won’t fall easily for that- Cliff said

-Maybe not with Moretti- Neil said- But MC has infiltrated herself in groups and gained the confidence of the temperance crusaders and Vera Peters. It’s not something she hasn’t done before. Besides, she’ll have Moretti to say nothing and defend her if needed- I didn’t like to think I needed to be defended, but if it helped Neil get on board with the idea I didn’t mind- She can handle it

I smiled at him for going along with it. He knew it was dangerous, before he would’ve said “it was out of the question”. But with Vince there and the fact he knew I was stubborn and maybe a little bit of how I had proven myself before... He believed in me.

-The Doc’s right- Sofia said- We’ve seen her in action

I got excited, so I started talking again-That’s right. Everyone can be fooled. We just have to be smarter than Mayor Adler. Besides, he would certainly love to think he has the Mad Dog right under his command, doing whatever his little heart desires

Vince chuckled, a little flustered to be considered a valuable piece- Let’s get this show on the road

___

And so it was the next day I sent a letter to Mayor Adler, pointing out my interest in making a deal to work for him if it meant he left the Ice Box alone. If I gave him the idea that he was the one in control he’d believe it. I had just sent the letter when Neil came downstairs in the morning.

-You’re up early- His voice showed that he had just woken up, along with his puffy eyes.

-You’re just sleeping later and later. Might have slept for about ten hours today. I thought you were hibernating and were scared you were going to turn into a cat and sleep for most of your life.

-You’re not the one who keeps waking up at night because of your snore.

-I still think it’s all hokum. I don’t snore. You’re just making that up ‘cause you can’t seem to find any flaws.

He snorted and opened his mouth to fight back But then, something changed in his eyes. Instead he walked over and pulled me close, his arms gently revolved my waist as he used his forehead to touch mine

-Oh, they’re there alright

I rolled my eyes- And here I was thinking you might be romantic for once

-I love you- He replied with those three little words I loved hearing from him. I still couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that this man was in love with me

-I love you, Neil- I kissed his lips gently and for a while we were lost in that moment, not caring about anything else.

Soon enough he opened his eyes to see paper, pen and envelopes on the coffee table- So you wrote the mayor that letter?

-I did. The sooner the better, right? Can’t have any of this bothering our matrimonial bliss.

-That man is as dangerous as they get. You be CAREFUL.

-I’ll be fine, Vince will be there at all times. I’m as tough as they come!-I smiled at him, trying to pass on my confidence.

-Like I said, I can’t risk that. But trying to talk you out of it will give me a headache and I won’t get anywhere. So you do what you have to do.

-You’re only okay with it because Vince is going

-Are you trying to change my mind?

-No, sir!- I said closing my mouth and saying nothing more

It took a few days to get a reply from the Mayor, but soon enough he said he’d be glad to meet us the day after at the address we had given him, which was by the docks. Sure enough the day after Vince picked me up in his red convertible and we were off

-Do you hear wedding bells yet?-He jokingly asked driving down one of the main avenues in Chicago

-I’ve been talking to the Wedding planner and the invitations were sent out, we’ve got a few things to figure out still, but honestly this Mayor Adler business is been taking so much of my time I’m a little behind

-Why did you move up the wedding then? Wasn’t May the perfect time to work everything out?

I sighed, if Neil didn’t know the truth I didn’t think it’d be nice of me to tell everyone else before him. He had to be the first to know, well… After Cleo. I breathed slowly thinking about what to say. The best lies always have some truth in them, but I couldn’t include any aspect of pregnancy in whatever excuse I was going to find

-I guess it was an impulse. I want everything to be over so bad. I feel like the wedding will bring happiness. Or I’m just giving myself a deadline of when all of this has to be over by before I lose my mind- Surprisingly enough, I found some truth in it

-Hey, doll- He caught my attention- We got this, this mayor business will be done in no time. So all that pretty head has to worry about is tying the knot, unfortunately

-Unfortunately?- I chuckled

-Thought I still had my chances with ya- He said, joking

-You can say that in front of Neil

-That guy is the only guy that scares me enough I’d be afraid to die. Always knocking me down with that smart mouth

-Just don’t give him any excuses to

-I don’t need to!- He replied, despite everything I knew he was right. I wasn’t about to tell him that Neil actually trusted him and thought he was a decent guy.

He parked by the docks and our bright conversation turned into a tense silence when we saw the mayor alongside his security puppets. He sat in the back seat of a black car, probably trying to eliminate any chances to be seen. The smell of water from the river filled my senses, suddenly I wished I was far away on the beach. I shook the thought of my head quickly, the Ice Box was my home and this is what had to be done to protect it. Time to stop sulking.

We walked out towards the vehicle, his men holding their guns in case anything threatened his safety. I could see his satisfied face, a grin that showed he believed he had already won, an air of superiority that saw me and Vince as the new pawns in his Chicago dominance game.

-Aaah… Miss Granger, you look lovelier than ever- I cringed at his fake manners, but didn’t miss his appreciative look to my assets.

By the looks of it, Vince didn’t miss it either. He cleaned his throat dramatically to take his attention away from me- We’re here to make a deal with you.

This time, Adler turned his attention to my Italian right-hand man. His eyes gleamed at him as well, but it was different. It was appreciation, respect, admiration and most of all a desire to have him as a trophy, as a bodyguard. It occurred to me he valued Vince way more than me.

-So I finally meet the Mad Dog- His smile spoke for him- You tell me what kind of deal we’re talking about here.

-We would like to- I started talking but he interrupted, giving me a look

-I’d like the men to have this conversation- His response lit up a fire in my body. I wanted to yell at him, blow our cover and show him you never underestimate a woman. But I shut my mouth, the more he thought he was winning, the more his ego would inflate and we’d get the upper hand.

-It’s simple, Mayor. We both do all your dirty work and you leave our business alone- Vince said

-How is it you know I need dirty work done?

-Chicago’s underworld don’t have many secrets, Mayor. So we can skip not knowing each other’s dealings. I know you’re aware of Charlie’s business and I know you ain’t big on Temperance meetings, but you can’t get your hands dirty. Lucky for you, I’m an expert on dirtying my hands and MC’s got the brains I need. So it’s pretty simple.

He seemed to think about it for a second, but Vince was a good talker, he knew how to convince people- You’ve got yourself a deal. Charlie’s business won’t be touched as long as you do what I say.

I breathed heavily a little overwhelmed. I didn’t know whether to be happy our plan worked, or desperate we willingly put ourselves under the Mayor’s control.

Adler scheduled a briefing late next night in his mansion, but first me and Vince were where we usually spent our time at night: The Ice Box

-Excuse-me!- I said walking around patrons. The place was so packed I wondered if there was something to celebrate.

-MC!-I heard someone calling me behind me, I recognized it as Donovan when he called a second time. It took me a while to finish handing out drinks and get away from the massive crowd, enough so I could hear him- Sufferin’ Jesus, will you listen to me, lassie?

-Yes! I’m done!-I pulled him to the back room locking the door behind us- What is it?

-Are you goin’ to meet de mayor tonight?

-Yes, me and Vince are going to do whatever job he’s got laid out for us. We’ll meet him in his house, so it’s a step closer to getting our hands in those documents

-I need to tell you something-He said, my look of curiosity gave him the okay he needed to continue- These jobs, you and that boyo might be way over yer heads.

-You mean, he might have us do stuff that we won’t be able to do? Like kill off some innocent person or commit actual disgusting crimes? I’ve thought about that. We don’t need to really do what he asks, we just need to make him believe we are.

-As long as you’re aware of it-He agreed- There’s something else. Vince is involved and he doesn’t know left from right. He’ll do something stupid

-Where are you getting at?

-You can’t let him kill de Mayor.

-That wasn’t in the plan, anyway. But I know how Vince is, I’ll stop him. But why do you say so?

-Vince can get his dumb hot head of his to far and you might think if he does it it’ll be just one more annoyance to deal wit’, but de Mayor has something to protect ‘im. If he dies, he has a whole system in place ta reveal every information he has on all of Chicago.

-So he dies and stills wins, huh? No one wants that. You know who has access to his documents as well?

-Not now, but I’m workin’ on it.

-Alright, figure it out.

-On it, lassie. You plan on this getting more violent than your past problems?

-I’ve been here for almost a year. Louis, Dr. Bailey, Vera… We haven’t had to kill any of them. I know the Mayor is in a different level, but I’d like to keep it that way. But who says if we get him in jail where he should be, if he won’t have whoever it is leak all of our secrets anyway? Just to see everyone go down with him?

He seemed to get to the same conclusion. He knew he had to find whoever he trusted to give all those documents away-I’ll figure it out

-Thanks, Donovan

After our talk I spotted Neil in his usual spot drinking his bourbon. It calmed me to see that one thing was still the same. It brought a sense of normalcy to all of it. I walked towards him with a soft smile

-Hey handsome- I said kissing his cheek

He smiled back to me- Ready for your stunt tonight?

-You know me and my diabolical plans, I’m ready to fool the Mayor and get him out of our hair for good- I wrapped my arms around him- And then we can enjoy the beautiful beach in California…

-California?-He looked at me incredulously

-I’ve been thinking about our honeymoon! I’ve never been to the beach before!

-Never?

�� -No! I’ve always lived in Ohio my entire life and then I moved here. I didn’t really go anywhere.

-How about Yellowstone?- He said

-Wyoming? You’d want to go to a place where there’s barely any people!

-California’s got too many people

I suddenly smiled with the bright idea that popped into my head- I know how we can settle this.

He snorted, the same confidence he showed before we played that game of chess that resulted in our first kiss popped into his face-I see where you’re going, and you’re going to lose

-Well, don’t forget I’m unexpected- I held his hand tightly- Wait for me at Charlie’s tonight, we can play to decide it later, alright?

He agreed. I could see anxiety in his eyes, I’d hate to wait without doing anything, but it was me and Vince in the game now. He didn’t know, but I appreciated his trust in me. That’s when guilt rose in me one more time about hiding something as important as my condition to him. As much as I wanted to believe it was excusable to hide it, I knew deep down it was the wrong thing to do- Hey… Can we talk outside? I’ve got something I wanna talk to you about.

He got up after taking his last sip of bourbon and walked to the alley, far enough so Andrew wouldn’t hear us, but close enough so we were still protected by the darkness of the shadow the building provided, far from wondering eyes who might suspect us.

-What is it?-He asked

-You know how I wasn’t feeling well these past few weeks? All the stress and all this stuff?

He kept quiet for a few seconds- Yeah… I know. Is it still bothering you? I could take a look at the infirmary, find you something that’ll help

-No, no! It’s not that- I breathed heavily for a few seconds- Neil, I’m pr-

-MC!-Vince opened the door- We’ve gotta go, doll. Just received a call from the Mayor, he wants us now

-I’m coming- I said as he rushed past me

-We’re in a hurry!- He turned on his car

-Hey… We’ll talk when you get home, alright?- Neil’s calm voice surprised me- Now, go get it done

I agreed, kissing him before going

To be back at that mansion brought me some uncomfortable memories. It seemed darker somehow, now that it didn’t have the proper elegancy of Vera around it. Vince parked his car and his butler let us right in, where the Mayor waited with two goons by his side

-I’m eager to put the Mad Dog in action

-Then let’s not wait- I showed a fake frustration that showed I didn’t like being under his power. After all this is supposed to be a “we didn’t have any other choice because you got us” deal- Just say what the job is and we’ll get it done.

He gave me a side smile- You don’t get to give me orders, Miss Granger.

-What she meant is- Vince said- Let’s not keep you waiting.

-A man after my own heart- Adler said and I could’ve rolled my eyes at how much he enjoyed Vince- Before my ex-wife tried to kill me, she had been dealing with gangsters to conspire against me. O’Fallon’s gang. He was working with her. I want him gone.

Vince looked at him-Gone like…-

-Dead. Just disappear with him, don’t leave anything behind.

I breathed tensely for a few seconds- Let’s go!- I turned around making my way for the car. Vince soon followed me

-Not that I would have a problem shooting that bastard, but-

-You don’t wanna do it under the circumstances- I finished his sentence- Let’s not kill anybody if we don’t have to. I bet Gerald’s at the Broiler. We can tell him to disappear for a while, leave someone he trusts in charge.

We made our quick way to the speakeasy a couple of blocks north of the Ice Box. I had never been in the Broiler, but I knew that its reputation was classier than the joint I ran. When we got there, Vince parked a little far away from the place and looked at me

-Well, I don’t like talking to him, so you go ahead, doll

-If I let you talk to him, you’d actually kill him- I got off the car walking in the direction of the Broiler.

I knocked on the door telling the bouncer to let O’Fallon know Miss Granger was here to see him, and to let him know it was important. It didn’t take long for the red-headed fella to pop out of the ritzy joint he ran.

-I heard a beauty waited for me outside, who am I to keep her waiting?- He said with that smart mouth of his, always flirting with anything that moves

-We’re close to getting rid of the mayor, O’Fallon

-So you’ve come to share joyous news-He gave me that side smile

-Not exactly- I lowered my voice- For it to work I had to make a deal with him. He sent me and Vince here to kill you.

His smile turned into a frown- Let that wop try!-He was already reaching for his gun

-Cool it. We’re here to save your life!-I pushed him by his chest, he stopped to look at me so I continued- You need to disappear. Put someone you trust in charge for now

-I can’t just disappear!

-You’ll die if you don’t-

-Let the mayor try and kill me, it’s not the first time someone tried!

-Gerald!-I looked deeply into his eyes, with the utmost conviction in my words- You will die.

There must’ve been something in me, but he seemed to believe me now. He was tense for a second, but he let his respiration return to normal- What do I do?

-Go away. Not for long. We’re almost catching him, but he needs to believe you’re dead. Don’t let anyone see you and leave town tonight. Let me know how I can reach you to come back.

-Wait- He said going inside the broiler, coming back a couple minutes later with a piece of paper- I have somewhere to go. You’ll reach me in this number.

-Good. Now, leave- I said turning around

-MC- He called and I turned around- Thank you. I seem to be in need of your help once more

I smiled softly before turning around and getting back into Vince’s car- I took care of it. He’ll be gone until we take care of the Mayor

-You know you could just save us the trouble and have him stay wherever he’s going forever, right?

-For some reason, I think your life wouldn’t be fun without him- I joked, laughing at his expression of disgust

-It’s done- I said on the phone when we were back at the Ice Box

-Good. I’ll see you tomorrow, same time.

For the next couple of weeks, we did those jobs. Most of the times we just had to go and collect money for him, which was a job we could actually do. A few times he asked Vince to beat somebody up because he’d done something the Mayor deemed wrong. O’Fallon was the only person he asked us to kill and I was thankful for that. I don’t know if anyone else would be so willing to disappear like he did.

There was this one night the job was different. Adler was meeting up with some other gangsters he had business with. He wanted us to be his goons, his protectors. We were to escort him to the meeting and back to his house, making sure he didn’t get hurt in the process. Vince was behind the wheel, I sat by his side in the passenger seat and the Mayor seemed to peacefully enjoy the view in the backseat. However, I knew it was everything but peace that rested in his turbulent power-hungry mind.

I felt troubled being in one of his luxurious cars. It brought me this sensation that life would really be like that if the Mayor won. We’d have to succumb to his desires and surrender our freedom to be the small operation the Ice Box was. I couldn’t let that happen, not when Uncle Charlie was counting on me. Being the leader of this gang, it made me feel responsible for anything that happened or could happen to any of them.

My thoughts were interrupted by the shiver I felt because of the icy weather. The holidays were approaching fast and with them, the Windy City grew colder and its days turned darker. I hugged myself and the chilly air could be visible coming out of mouth every time I breathed

-You’re alright, doll?-Vince asked, almost in a whisper

-Yeah, I’m fine. I just don’t know how you’re not freezing without a coat

-I guess I’m used to it…-He gripped the wheels harder, I felt his tenseness. I’ve never seen him nervous to run into danger, but something was off about him tonight. I’ve seen him not enjoying all these jobs he had to do for the Mayor. Something told me he just hated to be used as a pawn and that he didn’t believe in what he was doing. I couldn’t deny our actions from the past few weeks benefited Adler. I just told myself it was for the greater good.

-How about you?- I asked the same question back- Are you alright?

-Yeah, I… I’ll be fine. Say we get a drink at the Box, after?

-I think that’s a good idea. Been a while since you wound down.

-Not to interrupt your plans for the evening- The unpleasant voice of the Mayor came from the back- But we’re here.

Vince parked by a small parking lot behind a business. Three big fellas waited on the outside by their car, the meanness of Chicago’s underworld showed in in their posture. Vince and I both had our guns out as Adler left the car to talk business with the unsavory elements.

They talked about some money dealings, there was some tension, but the guys hesitated to do anything and their eyes kept going in Vince’s direction. It wasn’t for nothing that he was known as the Mad Dog. Vince’s reputation alone protected Adler. Sometimes I’d feel their looks on me too, something about the ‘lady proprietor of Charlie’s gang’. They overall seemed surprised to see us working with the Mayor.

It wasn’t long before Adler handed them quite a few bills, said something about ‘getting it done’ and turned around to walk back to us. It seemed like an easy and boring job, but as soon as we turned around, something convinced me to look back. One of the bimbos had their gun out and pointed towards out way, ready to shoot. My eyes raised in surprise as I yelled

-Vince!- I caught his attention and he was quick to notice the situation.

The gun was fired. Everything even happened too fast for me comprehend. The bullet that was coming in our direction suddenly hit Vince’s body as he jumped in front of us. When I finally caught my breath he was on the floor and the three fellas were gone

I kneeled in front of him putting my hands on top of his wound, which was right on the left side of his torso, in an attempt to stop his bleeding.

-Vince!-I looked at him, feeling angst take care of my body. I could feel he was trying to say something, but instead could only whimper. I looked at the mayor as I had no other choice- My fiancé is a doctor, we could take him to-

-Your job is to get me home, safe! Get in the car and drive!

-But!- I started

-I’m fine!- Vince said, using my help to get up- I can…-He breathed slowly, as if he was about to collapse- I can drive him home

I protested but he wouldn’t have it. He drove, a little slow and discombobulated, but he made his way to the house. I helped Vince get off his car, he had trouble walking and he looked pale, but we made it to his red convertible. When I looked, the Mayor had already shut his door behind us. I didn’t mind much since I had other things to worry about at the moment.

-I can…-He started to go for the driver’s seat, but instead collapsed into the car

-Vince!-I called for him again. I knew there was no time to panic. I pushed him to the passenger seat and drove as fast as my experience behind the wheel would allow me to the Ice Box. When we got there, my luck was that Cliff and Andrew talked outside and when I called for help, none of them hesitated to carry an unconscious Vince inside our speakeasy. The place wasn’t open yet, and it was just our good fortune Neil was at his usual spot tasting his bourbon.

-Grab my bag- The Doc said. A comfort fell upon me as we laid him on the table and Neil started to do his job. I knew that when he was on the case, things were going to be alright. That’s what helped me get through everything, and it’d help both me and Vince that night.

It wasn’t long after, the bloody bullet was nowhere to be seen and Vince was awake. Even if he wasn’t moving that much and spent all his energy in a deep conversation with Cliff, he looked less pale. I felt Neil’s hand around my waist turning me around

-You were fine?-His glacial blue eyes pondered about my safety just as much as his words

-I’m alright. Vince is the one I was worried about, he’s always the one putting himself in danger. Thanks for saving his life yet again, Doc Dresner.

He gave me that soft smile of his- I told you. If I had a penny for every time I patched Moretti up, I’d be rich

-You are rich, Mr. Boston Brahmin.

-Do you have to have a smart comment to anything I say?

-Are you registering a complaint?

-I’m taking that as a yes. I’ll say one thing to you: Brevity is the soul of the wit

-I’m always brief, so you quit with your Shakespeare!

-You, little troublemaker-He said pulling me close- Are anything but brief. You always need to say something and it’s usually too much- He teased me

-Just because you don’t say as much doesn’t mean you have more wit than I do. I’m pretty sure I win

He used the opportunity no one could see his face to give me that big smile he reserved for me- How’s a cynical man supposed to keep thinking the world is a lost cause if you’re part of it?

I smiled back, looking deeply into his eyes- He doesn’t. She’s trying to make his view of it less bleak.

-I don’t know how she’s doing it…-He caressed my face- But she is.

-Baby steps, Neil, baby steps…-I said before giving him a gentle and quick kiss, then I let myself get lost in his embrace

-Vince is doing better, so I think I’ll take him home for tonight and come back before we open- Cliff said

Before I could agree to it, the phone rang. I let go of Neil to go answer it and it was an unpleasant surprise to hear from the Mayor. I talked to him for less than a minute before I hanged up

-What did he want?- Neil said

-He wanted to thank Vince for… Saving his life. And he invited us for dinner at his house, a week from now.

-I guess you got Adler’s trust-Cliff looked at his non-blood-brother, who now looked my way with his eyes wide open

-Dinner at the Mayor’s house?-Vince’s voice still sounded like he wasn’t doing his best- Guess we’re fooling him good, MC, all it took was a bullet. Seems like it’s time for part two of your plan now.

-We’ve got a way into his highly guarded house. Time to steal some documents.

___

Author notes: Thanks for reading this chapter! Here’s what’s coming in the next few chapters!

“I was surprised to wake up that morning and receive a call from Neil’s mother. She wanted us in Boston for the weekend. An engagement dinner ball, to fix what went wrong with the last trip. She had invited my whole family, which meant Uncle Charlie would be there. I didn’t say no.”

“-It’s time I went back to Chicago- Uncle Charlie said. I didn’t want that, we weren’t done with the mayor but he wouldn’t hear it- I’ve been in the business for way longer, MC. We work together”

“The wedding invitations have gone out, the receptions is chosen and our honeymoon preparations are set. All that’s left is to walk down the aisle. But first, we need to make sure the Ice Box is safe”

See you next time!!

#lovestruck voltage #lovestruck #lovestruck game #lovestruck fanfic #lovestruck usa #speakeasy #Speakeasy Tonight #spekeasy tonight #vince #vince moretti #Neil Dresner #cliff conway #Voltage #voltage inc #voltage romance games #Voltage Guys #voltage amemix #amemix

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uglypastels · 6 years

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Writing Challenge!!

Writing challenges are always so fun to do, so I decided to make one myself for a change. It’s also almost (not really) my birthday and I want to celebrate!!

It’s that time of the year again where it is cold outside, the leaves are falling off the trees, you just want to curl up under a blanket with a cup of hot chocolate and watch a movie... Or is that just me?

Anyway, I love watching a good movie, or even a bad one sometimes.

This is why in this challenge, all prompts are quotes from movies!

Rules are pretty basic, I’m not fussy about anything. (prompts > “Keep Reading”)

You don’t have to be following me, but it would be nice of you, of course, if you did

Reblog this post to join and/or spread the word

Send me an ask wherein you choose a prompt

Make sure you have a possible back-up if the said prompt is already taken

Preferably, I would like to have one story per prompt, but just in case anyone is really set on a prompt that has already been chosen, or if somehow by miracle every prompt is picked and more people want to join, each prompt will have two slots. (so one regular, one “emergency” slot)

All prompts are movie quotes, but your story doesn’t have to be based on the movie itself or have anything to do with the movie. Interpret the quote any way you want.

BE ORIGINAL!

BE CREATIVE!

HAVE FUN!

I would like to call myself a multifandom blog, but who am I kidding. I’m MARVEL’s bitch.

Write about any MARVEL character/ actor (+ the Hollands/Harrison) you want but

if you want to do a different fandom, you are more than welcome!

Just don’t forget to tell me in your prompt request who you will be writing for.

Fluff, angst, smut ... everything is allowed - just make sure to tag it.

NO UNDERAGE SMUT! Just don’t be gross, in general

No, first person, but other perspectives are good to go

Any length of writing is good, but if it is longer than 500 words, make sure to use the “Keep Reading” option.

so the story can be a one-shot, two shot, a series < including a part of a series you already have going on.

When you post it, make sure to tag me and use the tag:

#Z’s Movie Night Challenge

FOR AN EXTRA CHALLENGE (or if you just can’t pick): hmu with an ask telling me and I will pick for you! But do still mention who you will be writing for then.

Deadline is my birthday - December 18th!

I will be making a masterlist of all the submissions

I think that’s it. Any more question? DM me or ask

(way too many) Prompts, but at least nobody can complain there is nothing to chose from:

“I love you.” // “I know.” Star Wars, Episode V: Empire Strikes Back (@andwhatdostarsdobest w/ Tom Holland)

“Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn.” Gone With the Wind ( @procrastinatingparker w/ Tom Holland)

“After all, tomorrow is another day!” Gone With the Wind

“Go ahead, make my day.” Sudden Impact

“Here’s looking at you, kid,” Casablanca

“I think this is the start of a beautiful friendship.” Casablanca

“Of all the (gin joints) in all the towns in all the world, she walks into mine.” Casablanca ( @butwhyduh w/ Avengers cast)

“We’ll always have Paris.” Casablanca

“I’m going to make him an offer he can’t refuse.” the Godfather

“Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer.” the Godfather: Part II ( @sunsetspidey w/ Tom Holland)

“Just when I thought I was out, (they) pull me back in.” Godfather: Part III ( @sleepwalkingdragon w/ Harrison Osterfield on hold)

“You talkin’ to me?” Taxi Driver

“Fasten your seatbelts. It’s going to be a bumpy night.” All About Eve

“Love means never having to say you’re sorry.” Love Story ( @rainbow-marvel w/ Tom Holland)

“Forget everything you think you know.” Doctor Strange

“Pain is an old friend.” Doctor Strange ( @theamazingspiderlingg w/ Tom Holland)

“What we’ve got here is a failure to communicate.” Cool Hand Luke ( @scholarlyspidey )

“What is it?” // “The stuff that dreams are made off.΅ the Maltese Falcon

“Alright, (Mr. DeMille), I’m ready for my close-up.” Sunset Boulevard

“There is no place like home.” Wizard of Oz ( @peterrrparkour w/ Tom Holland)

“I love the smell of (napalm) in the morning.” Apocalypse Now

“Show me the money!” Jerry Maguire

“You had me at ‘hello’.” Jerry Maguire ( @anxiety-in-a-getaway-car w/ Sebastian Stan)

“You complete me.” Jerry Maguire

“Why don’t you come up sometime and see me?” She Done Him Wrong

“Hey, I’m walking here!” Midnight Cowboy

“I want to be alone.” Grand Hotel ( @aw-hawkeye w/ Tom Holland)

“You can’t handle the truth!” A Few Good Men

“I’ll have what she’s having.” When Harry Met Sally ( @sleepwalkingdragon w/ Harrison Osterfield)

"When you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible." When Harry Met Sally (@somethingtoavenge w/ Bucky Barnes)

“I’ll be back.” Terminator

“Hasta la vista, baby.” Terminator 2: Judgement Day.

“Today, I consider myself the luckiest man on the face of the earth.” The Pride of the Yankees

“We rob banks.” Bonnie and Clyde

“Well, nobody’s perfect.” Some Like it Hot

“Houston, we have a problem.” Apollo 13

“I could do this all day.” Captain America: The First Avenger/ Civil War

“We’re still friends, right?” Captain America: Civil War ( @starksparker w/ Tom Holland)

“Have you been playing Space Invaders? Because you’re invading my space!” Pixels ( @cas-backwards-tie w/ Peter Parker)

“Well, a boy’s best friend is his mother.” Psycho

“Well here’s another nice mess you’ve gotten me into!” Sons of the Desert

“Say hello to my little friend.” Scarface

“(Mrs. Robinson) You’re trying to seduce me. Aren’t you?” the Graduate

“What a dump.” Beyond the Forest

“Is it safe?” Marathon Man

"Wait a minute, wait a minute. You ain't heard nothin' yet!" the Jazz Singer

“I have always depended on the kindness of strangers.” A Streetcar Named Desire

“Hello, gorgeous.” Funny Girl

“Surely you can’t be serious?” // “I am serious. And don’t call me Shirley.” Airplane!

“My precious.” Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers

"Listen to me, mister. You're my knight in shining armor. Don't you forget it? You're going to get back on that horse, and I'm going to be right behind you, holding on tight, and away we're gonna go, go, go!" On Golden Pond ( @musiclover1263 w/ Peter Parker)

"Carpe diem. Seize the day(, boys). Make your live(s) extraordinary." Dead Poet Society.

“I’m the king of the world!” Titanic

“I’ll never let go, (Jack).” Titanic ( @spider-puck w/ Spideychelle)

“You make me want to be a better man.” As Good as it Gets ( @thewackywriter w/ mob!Tom Holland)

“As if!” Clueless ( @fratboievans w/ Peter Parker)

“They’re here!” Poltergeist

“We know each other. He’s a friend from work.” Thor: Ragnarok

“Gentlemen, you can’t fight in here! (This is the War Room.)” Dr. Strangelove

“I wish I knew how to quit you!” Brokeback Mountain ( @petersshirts w/ Tom Holland)

“I’m not bad. I’m just (drawn) that way.” Who Framed Roger Rabbit (@lovelymalira w/ Bucky Barnes)

“Why so serious?” the Dark Knight

“Magic Mirror on the wall, who’s the fairest one of all.” Snow White and the Seven Dwarves ( @thequeensardine w/ Harrison Osterfield)

“.... I dare you. I double dare you.” Pulp Fiction ( @hollandofthefree w/ Tom Holland)

“Look I probably should have told you this before but you see... well... insanity runs in my family... It practically gallops.” Arsenic and Old Lace

“It’s just a flesh wound.” Monty Python and the Holy Grail ( @sarahwritesfiction w/ Steve Rogers)

“He might be okay….Well, no, probably not now.” Groundhog Day

“Life’s a bitch; now so am I.” Batman Returns ( @idontknowhowtowritesosorry w/ Shawn Mendes)

“That rug really tied to room together, did it not?” The Big Lebowski

“No, it’s a cardigan, but thanks for noticing.” Dumb and Dumber

“Is that all he said?” Lost in Translation

“Excuse me, I believe you have my stapler.” Office Space ( @totallytomholland w/ Peter Parker)

“You wanna come over?” // “No, thanks. I don’t want you fucking up my life, too.” Office Space (@mobtomsgirl w/ Tom Holland)

“Okay, sounds like a case of the Mondays.” Office Space

“And suddenly, I felt nothing.” Fight Club ( @brokennccrown w/ Steve Rogers)

“You can tell a lot about a person by what’s on their playlist.” Begin Again

“(Veronica), you look like hell.” // “Yeah, I just got back.” Heathers ( @peter-is-the-best-avenger w/ Peter Parker or Tom Holland)

“Lick it up, baby. Lick it up.” Heathers

“But… I guess if I love you, I should let you move on.” 17 Again

“I want my life to be like an 80’s movie.” Easy A

“What makes life so hard?” // “People.” An Affair to Remember

“Have you ever been in love?” // “I think so.” Love, Simon (@fandomscombine w/ Peter Parker)

“I don’t wanna go.” Avengers: Infinity War (@fantasyizlife w/ Tom Holland)

“I don’t want another single pop culture reference out of you for the rest of the trip. You understand?” Avengers: Infinity War

“I am going to die surrounded by the biggest idiots in the galaxy.” Guardians of the Galaxy ( @fantasyizlife w/ Shawn Mendes)

“You actually were telling the truth?” // “I do that quite a lot, yet people are always surprised.” Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man’s Chest ( @fantasyizlife w/ Harrison Osterfield)

“I have what they call an unattractive face.” Gainsbourg: A Heroic Life

“Oh, somebody, stop me!” The Mask

“I didn’t come here to tell you I can’t live without you. I can live without you. I just don’t want to.” Rumor Has It ( @marcymakemagic w/ Peter Parker)

“Are you always this cocky?” // “Only on Tuesdays… and whenever beautiful women are involved.” // “So, you think I’m beautiful?” // “Actually… it’s Tuesday.” the Three Musketeers ( @tomhollanders2013 w/ Tom Holland)

“I’m going to be a lady if it kills me.” Dinner at Eight

“Prove it…” Shane

“I’m sorry, (Dave). I’m afraid I can’t do that.” 2001: A Space Odyssey

“Kiss my hot lips.” M*A*S*H*

“You have my sympathies.” Alien

“Get away from her, (you bitch)!” Aliens

“You can be my wingman anytime.” Top Gun

“Have you ever danced with the devil by the pale moonlight?” Batman

“Love your suit.” The silence of the Lambs

“Quid pro quo.” (= A favor for a favor) The Silence of the Lambs

“Always.” Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part II ( @peter-parker-life w/ Tom Holland)

Good luck, have fun!

Tagging some peeps to spread the word because this is one thing I don’t want to die:

@tomhiddleston-is-myboo @tonyintexas @andwhatdostarsdobest @tomsfireheart @spinneret-holland @rainbow-marvel @lovelyh0lland @de-lir-i-ous @peter-parker-life @tomhollanders2013 @tomhollandthirst @lifeisabitchandsoareyou @darlingtholland @sweet-pea-imagines @anxiety-in-a-getaway-car @manhoeparker @h-osterfield @positiveparker @casuallytumblingdownthestairs @justmesadgirl @fandomscombine @tom-holland-and-textposts @my-current-obsessions-hehe (Sorry to bother anyone.)

#Z's Movie Night Challenge #writing challenge #my challenge #uglypastels #fanfiction #imagine #imagines #smut #fanfic #fanfics #writing #tom holland fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #any fanfiction really

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sunsetbeachsoap · 5 years

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Interview: Life's a Sunset Beach

She was going to be the next Elizabeth Taylor. These days Lesley- Anne Down takes work where she finds it - right now, it's in the best daytime soap opera since `Crossroads'.

Deborah Ross @deborahross

Monday 30 November 1998 01:02

So, here she is, then, Lesley-Anne Down, once "Britain's Most Beautiful Teenager" and once, of course, the flighty, ravishing, utterly captivating Miss Georgina Worsley in Upstairs, Downstairs. I can still see her now, in her little sparkling bugle dress, with those big sparkling eyes, flirting outrageously with someone jolly handsome in the Eaton Place drawing room, while, downstairs, Mrs Bridges was bellowing: "RUBY! ROO- BEEEEE! YOU COME AND HELP ME WITH THIS MILK PUDDING NOW, MY GIRL!" The part quickly transformed her into the nation's, and the tabloids', absolute darling. She may even have been Elizabeth Hurley before there was any Elizabeth Hurley. The prototype, if you like. And very, very big things were predicted for her. "The next Elizabeth Taylor," declared the Daily Mail in 1973. But today? Today she is not a great big movie star. Instead, she is Olivia Richards in the American daytime soap Sunset Beach.

Now, let's see, how best to give you a little thumbnail-sketch of Olivia? OK. Here goes. Olivia used to have a drink problem, and also used to be married to Gregory Richards, played by a cracking actor who can do lines, and facial expressions, but singularly fails to ever tie the two in together. Olivia has a baby son, Tres, unbeknown to her grown-up daughter, Caitlin, who is a graduate (cum laude) of The American School of Dramatic Hair Tossing - they are all, actually, very good at tossing, but Caitlin's the best - and who thinks Tres came from a prostitute. Caitlin certainly doesn't think Tres could be her brother, or might even be her half-brother, because Olivia once had an affair with Cole, who suffers under the weight of a great deal of hair gel and thus looks permanently perplexed, and who is now married to Caitlin, while Gregory is now married to Annie, who has lips like dinghies and who drugged Olivia and stole Tres in the first place before Olivia found out and Gregory divorced her, because he thought Tres died as a result of her drinking. And that's about it. I think. Tragically, Sunset Beach is only on here at 10.20am on Channel 5 which means that, for a busy, professional, go-getting high-brow like me, I only ever get to see it daily.

Now, I know what you're thinking. You're thinking: "Look what Lesley- Anne has come to!" And: "Where did it all go pear-shaped!"Well, if that's the case, and I suspect it is, then I can only say you are mad. Sunset Beach is, almost certainly, the best thing on telly at the moment. Indeed, for anyone who has had, say, a Crossroads-shaped hole in their lives ever since Crossroads was axed, then Sunset Beach is just the ticket, and possibly more so. The plots are ludicrous, the acting is appalling and, as for the dialogue! Well, take Olivia to her ex, Gregory, while they are stuck in a lift, and he's coming on to her, because he's unknowingly been doped with Viagra, and she finds herself succumbing: "LOVE [breath] ME [breath] GREGORY [long breath]. LOVE [breath] ME!" It's all you could ever hope for, frankly, and no Benny in his silly bobble hat, which has to be a plus.

I say all this to Lesley-Anne. She is not offended in the least. She has, she says, never considered herself an artiste in any way. Do you think you can act, even? "God, no. Absolutely not. But if someone pays me to do something, I will do it to the best of my ability, and on Mars if necessary." How would you describe what you do in Sunset Beach? "Technique. Just full-blown technique! Although it's very hard work, darling. We average four scenes an hour. We don't rehearse. It's brush your hair, then boom- boom-boom, you're doing it." So, in short, it's a matter of trying not to fall over the props, then waiting for the truck to come round with your wages? "It is certainly much better paid than Upstairs, Downstairs ever was!" She says she now takes her jobs where she can find them. She once did a season in Dallas as PR Stephanie Rogers. "Why? Because they offered me a quarter of a million dollars for seven days' work over 10 weeks. What do you think I am, darling? STUPID?" Still, she agrees that "Who shot JR?" might be up there with "Is Amy Turtle a Russian spy?" as one of the greatest soap storylines ever. "Was she a Russian spy?" she asks. I say she got off in the end, but frankly, I always had my doubts. There always looked like room for a kalashnikov under her pinny, to me. "I see," says Lesley-Anne. "Hmmm."

Although she now lives in the very Hello! territory that is Malibu - "Jane Seymour lives round the corner. Her kids came trick or treating the other night" - she is over here for a few days, so we meet in her London hotel suite. We are joined, at various times, by Lesley-Anne's younger sister, Angela, Lesley-Anne's husband, Donnie, and her and Donnie's eight-month-old son, George, who seems to have black teeth ("We think the housekeeper is feeding him juice"), plus a succession of chambermaids who knock then come in to say: "Hiya, Olivia. I just wanted to say hiya, and maybe I could have a photo, Olivia?" "Maybe a little later, sweetie," says Lesley-Anne, who isn't even very good at acting friendly sometimes. Later, she complains: "This has been going on endlessly. In fact, when I first arrived here a few days ago, I went out in the evening. I was knackered, I looked awful, I wore a big hat - but still everyone in the street was shouting, `Ohhhh, Olivia'. And `Ohhh, Sunset Beach'. I don't understand it. It is such a silly little show."

Nonsense, I protest. It's a terrific show. In particular, I love the strange kind of time warp that goes on, so that a character knocks on a door, then 139 episodes later someone finally answers it. I like the fact that there are only ever two camera angles. I like the fact it makes Santa Barbara look slick. I like... "Oh, stop," pleads Lesley-Anne. Her sister Angela interrupts to say she thinks Lesley-Anne is a better actress than she thinks she is. "You were very good in Hanover Street with Harrison Ford," she insists.

"But that was such romantic drivel, darling!" Lesley-Anne cries.

"Trouble is, that film didn't know whether it wanted to be a war story or a love story," says Donnie.

"Ag-ga-ga-ga-goo," goes George, through his spooky, rotten teeth.

I say that, aside from anything else, she did do truly great cleavage in the American mini-series North and South. She can at least feel proud of that. She says: "That wasn't cleavage! That was my spare tyre being pushed up!" Lesley-Anne is possibly rather bonkers. But, still, she can be quite bright and funny at times.

She is now 44, but is still very fine looking, with the huge green, sparkling eyes, and great bones and everything, although she might be a bit over- made-up. You know, lots of black round the eyes and lashes so mascara- ed they look crunchy. She has so far resisted plastic surgery, "but only because Donnie won't let me". "Roy Orbison died on the table getting a face-lift," retorts Donnie. "It is a life-threatening operation."

Donnie, her third husband, is a cameraman whom she met on the set of North and South. Lesley-Anne seems to have spent much of her life going from one bloke to another, actually. First it was Bruce Robinson, the actor who turned writer (The Killing Fields) then writer-director (Withnail and I, How to Get Ahead in Advertising) and with whom she lived with for 10 years from the age of 15. Next it was an Argentine, Henrique Gabriel, an assistant director whom she met in Egypt on a film set, and whom she married on a whim, but left after 18 months for William Friedkin. She married Friedkin, the director of The French Connection and The Exorcist, and together they had a son, Jack. But when Jack was two, Lesley-Anne met Don, and upped it again. Lesley-Anne and Friedkin then fought a custody battle for Jack in a case which even her own lawyer, Marvin Mitchelson, described as "the nastiest, most vicious, custody case this town has ever seen". Friedkin said Lesley-Anne was an alcoholic, promiscuous coke fiend. She said he had threatened to kill her on more than one occasion, and had used a stun gun in front of Jack. After spending a million dollars each, they eventually agreed to a pre-trial settlement and joint custody, but only after Lesley-Anne had been vetted by a team of shrinks.

She says the shrinks ultimately declared her "a super-intelligent woman" which, she adds, "was very funny, because I lied to them every step of the way. They did these Rorschach tests on me. You know, the ink-blots. And they'd say, what does this one look like? I wasn't about to say it looks like two women having it off, was I? So I said, `Ohhh, it's a beautiful butterfly."' What did they conclude about you emotionally? "That I'm a complete hysteric!" And she might be, although perhaps not dangerously so. Certainly, she doesn't seem entirely whole somehow. I think she is intelligent, yes, but am not sure she's entirely all there.

She was born in Wandsworth, south London. Her father, James, apparently a very dashing-looking man, was caretaker of the local Territorial Army Centre. Her mother, Isobel, stayed at home to bring up the two girls, although did a bit of cleaning on the side when things got tight. Lesley- Anne, however, craved a more colourful life. "I had these cousins in LA, who'd send us care packages of clothes they'd grown out of - the most amazingly beautiful dresses that were totally alien to, say, going to Clark's for another pair of lace-ups in black, black or black. So I always had this desire, and image of myself, leading this fantasy life."

She started modelling at 10, was drinking gin and orange and clubbing at 12, started appearing nude in films at 14, and was living with Bruce at 15. I ask her if she thinks her childhood finished too early. She says. "I don't think it ever started!" What do you mean? "I just never felt like a child. I always had this desire to be a grown-up. I never had friends. I never felt I belonged. I was always happiest on my own, inventing things, finding secret places. If I'd also mutilated small animals, I think I'd have the perfect psychological profile of a serial killer." Did you ever, for example, have birthday parties? "Perhaps once. Although, then again, I might just be jealously appropriating someone else's." Did you like school? "Hated it. In particular, I hated Miss Harden, the maths teacher, who had hairy armpits and never wore long sleeves."

The trouble with Lesley-Anne, perhaps, is that she focused for so long on achieving things outwardly, via her own admittedly fabulous looks, that something within her just shrivelled and died. When, later, I ask her what attracted her to Friedkin, she says: "Money, talent, power." And you find those things attractive? "I did then. I'd met men with one or other of those things but, until Bill, I'd never met a man with all three." And the combination was lethal? "Lethal is the right word. That man was MERCURY IN MY BLOOD!" She can seem quite hysterical at times, yes.

Her first modelling assignment was for school uniforms, then it was bonnets, then it was a commercial in Barbados for an American soap powder - "and I thought, this is the life". She hooked up with Bruce at a party thrown by Ava Gardner. "He walked into the room in a white coat. I was in love. I didn't have a comb, so I ran into the lavatory and used Ava's toothbrush on my hair and lashes." He assumed she was at least 18. He, nearly 30 then, wasn't best pleased to find out she was only 15. "He called up all his friends, and said: `What am I going to do?' He went though a difficult time. My parents called him all sorts of names. Bruce would pack my bags and send me back to mum and dad. `I want to be with you,' I would scream. "

He proposed to her just the once, when she was 16. "But I said no. I didn't believe in marriage then." He never proposed again, although they stayed together until she was 24. She doesn't see him now. "He's become such a hermit, hasn't he? He lives in place near Wales that begins with H." Hereford? "Yes, that's it. He has so much to play for, but just tucks himself away." Perhaps he just doesn't want the whole LA shebang? "Oh. yes. Perhaps."

She says she is happy now, with Donnie and George. She doesn't mind that she never really achieved anything after Upstairs, Downstairs apart from a number of lacklustre films culminating in Death Wish V with Charles Bronson. "I'm happy to have survived, to still be here," she says. She has, yes, had her run-ins with drink and drugs but never, she insists, excessively so, and certainly not now. She adds that it's now time for her afternoon nap. "I'm very tired, darling." Bye, Olivia, I say. And I hope you get out of that stuck elevator shortly. "Oh stop!" she pleads again.

#interview #Sunset Beach #lesley anne down #olivia

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