#I wasn’t doing em cos I was like but they gotta be perfect… | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dameronology · 3 years

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love in the time of p.t.a meetings {marcus moreno} - 2/5

summary: your kid has taken a liking to marcus moreno - and frankly, so have you {series masterlist}

warnings: swearing, mentions of divorce & very brief mentions of his wife’s death

i don’t normally update series this quickly but this was originally one imagine that reached about 11k words lmao so it’s all written, just being split up. i’ve also decided it’s gonna be 5 parts instead of 3, cos i reread the ending and realised i was not done by a longshot. enjoy!

- jazz

Mondays. You hated ‘em.

Everything just seemed so...amplified. The peace and relaxation of the weekend was over and everyone had to go back on the grind. The traffic always seemed worst, the clock seemed to tick backwards and you just wanted to be at home, in bed. After an incident involving the dog, a toaster and a small pan fire, you were already running twenty minutes late and you knew in your soul that your child’s shoes weren’t on the right feet. That, and also he was wearing a Chewbacca onesie to school. It had been a compromise. As in, he was refusing to go to school unless you let him wear the damn thing. It was a compromise. You’d lost.

On the bright side, the past weekend had been the best you’d had in a long time. Jack had spent all of Saturday afternoon at the Heroics headquarters and he was so worn out, he’d slept through all of Sunday. Marcus Moreno must have a been a fucking wizard, because you’d been trying to tire the kid out for five years. You made a mental note to do something in return, though you sensed there was nothing on God’s green earth that could possibly amount to babysitting the world’s most exhausting child for six hours. You were allowed to say that, because Jack was your world’s most exhausting child and you wouldn’t have changed him for anything.

‘New week, huh buddy?’ You glanced at Jack in your rear view mirror. He was sat on his booster seat, legs dangling back and forth and a power ranger action figure in his hand. ‘A fresh start.’

‘Can we listen to the song from Cars?’ Jack ignored your comment.

‘You gotta try and behave yourself this week. You’ve seen what happens to people who do follow the rules, right? They get to go work at the Heroics-’

‘- I wanna listen to the song from Cars!’

You wanted to have a deep conversation. Jack wanted to listen to Life Is A Highway. That was...actually, it was exactly how you’d expected that to go. It wasn’t that off of the time you were trying to explain your divorce to him and he’d interrupted you to demand that you put Toy Story on.

‘Sure thing, kid.’ You rolled your eyes, reaching across to hand him on your phone. ‘D’you know how to spell it-’

Your sentence was cut off by the sound of guitars blaring from the speakers. At least he could work out Spotify.

By some miracle, you managed to make it the school with a few minutes to spare. Because most people had dropped their kids off earlier (see: on time), the lot was pretty empty. That meant you could once again dump your car without regard for the painted white lines -- who had time to park properly on a Monday morning? That was for people who had their shit together.

Leaping out the car, you almost cursed when you tripped over your heels. You didn’t have to wear them, but since you’d started working in a managerial role at your office, you figured it made you look a little more professional. And what was the harm in being a few inches taller? It made you feel powerful.

‘C’mon, J.’ You pulled open the back door, helping Jack leap out the car.

‘You know, I’m starting to think you can’t park your car at all.’

‘Marcus!’ Jack practically flew out the car, his tiny body suddenly jolting with excitement.

‘Morning, buddy.’ He replied; he then moved his brown eyes to gaze at you, offering a smile. ‘Hey.’

‘Hey, how you doing?’ You greeted him. ‘I don’t normally see you here in the mornings.’

‘Yeah, I normally drop Missy off at the front but it was one of those mornings, you know? She was taking a little more convincing than usual to go in.’

‘My kid is in a Wookiee onesie and backwards Thomas the Tank Engine shoes and you have the audacity to ask me if I know those mornings? I am those mornings.’ You replied.

Marcus chuckled. ‘I think it’s a look. I especially like the Lightning McQueen sunglasses.’

‘Do you have a super suit?’ Jack asked. ‘Can I try it on?’

‘C’mon, Jack. You’ve already managed to get a tour of the HQ.’ You ruffled his hair. ‘And we gotta get going to school.’

‘But I wanna ask more questions.’ He muttered. ‘I have over a hundred.’

‘Don’t I know it.’ You murmured under your breath. ‘But school is more important.’

‘I don’t wanna go anymore.’

‘I let you wear the onesie. That was our agreement, remember?’

‘All good superheroes have to get an education.’ Marcus reasoned. ‘And if you go in, maybe I can show you my suit at some point?’

'Okay!’ Jack grinned. He wrapped his arms around your waist in a quick hug, before peering up at you with a toothy smile. ‘See ya later!’

He turned on his heel and ripped his backpack from your hand, suddenly speeding up the path and towards school. Had...had that just happened? For once in your life, had you not had to wrench him from the car and wrestle him through the school gates? Move aside, Harry Potter, because Marcus Moreno was the new wizard in town. You might have been a little jealous that he was so good with your son but at the same time, it made you like him even more. He was the first parent at the school that had leant into Jack’s wild tendencies. And, whilst you tried not to think too much about it, even his own dad had struggled to do that. It made your heart warm a little.

‘You are seriously my favourite person.’ You chimed, leaning back against your car.

‘Kids with character are way more fun than kids who are well-behaved.’ Marcus replied.

‘I spent forty-five minutes scraping string cheese out the USB port of my computer yesterday, but sure.’

He chuckled. ‘No, I’m serious. I don’t encourage Missy to misbehave but she does get herself into some situations. I choose to see it as a testament to her intelligence rather than disobedience.’

‘I refuse to believe for a second that Missy ever misbehaves.’ You shot back back. ‘She seems so well-behaved.’

‘What you see in the parking lot is not a reflection of our whole lives.’ He reminded you.

‘Right, because despite appearances, I’m actually a very put together parent.’ You snorted. ‘But I get what you mean.’

‘I gotta get to work now, but it was good to see you.’ Marcus pulled his car keys out his pocket. ‘I was serious about that suit thing, by the way. He saw my katanas on Saturday.’

‘Katanas?’ You spluttered. ‘My kid managed to start a fire last week out of nothing and you want to give him katanas?!’

‘Maybe I can show you how to use them.’ He flashed you a smile. ‘And then you can pass on the knowledge.’

‘That’s probably an even worse idea.’ You shook your head with a laugh, pulling open your car door. ‘I’ll see you around.’

‘You as well. Have a good day, pretty lady.’

Did you stop thinking about your exchange at any point during the day? Absolutely not. In fact, you’d already written an email to the local deed poll office to change your legal name to Pretty Lady.

No, but in all seriousness, you’d been a little giddy about it. Had he been flirting? That didn’t seem like a long shot. You got on well, you’d hung out a bit over the weekend and not to toot your own horn, but you were by no means bad looking. Tired and a little frazzled, sometimes? Yeah. But anyone would have been lucky to have you and you were doing a better job at recognising that, especially since your divorce.

You were almost ecstatic when it got to 4PM and you hadn’t received a single call from Jack’s teachers. That meant that he had behaved, and what Marcus had said had worked. Because you worked past his finishing time, he usually went to the after-school club till you could come to collect him - it had been a lifesaver, especially since you couldn’t always leave early. He usually came home with some kind of weird arts and crafts. Last week, it had been an unidentifiable item made of dried macaroni and glitter. He’d placed it pridefully on the old fireplace in your lounge.

After saying goodbye to your co-workers, you headed out the building. Your office was right in the city centre and not too far out from the school. It was a nice place to be; your lunch hour, when you could head out to a street cart and eat your food in the local park, was usually the highlight of your day. It was when you could exist just as you. When you were at work, you were in charge on your entire department. When you were home, you were a parent 24/7. That time to yourself was vital.

As you were heading to your car, your phone began to ring. Your heart almost jumped out your chest when you saw Marcus’ name - he hadn’t called you before, only texted to sort out the previous weekend’s plans with Jack. You quickly organised yourself (he couldn’t see you, dumb ass) and cleared your throat.

‘Hey, everything alright?’ You brightly greeted him.

‘Hey! Are you out of work now?’

‘Yeah, I’m literally just leaving. What’s up?’

‘Look, I hate to do this but I’ve had an emergency at work - superhero related, you don’t wanna know - and I’m not gonna be out for hours.’ Marcus sounded stressed. Yeah, I feel that you thought. ‘Would you be able to pick up Missy and possibly have her for a few hours? If not, that’s totally-’

‘- I’d be glad too!’ You interrupted him. ‘I owe you one anyways for the weekend. And this morning, actually.’

‘You don’t owe me anything.’ He sounded surprised that you’d even imply it. ‘But I will definitely owe you for having Missy.’

‘Hey, it’s cool!’ You insisted. ‘Do you want me to drop her off at yours later?’

‘I can come and collect her if you text me your address?’

‘Perfect.’ You smiled. ‘I’ll see you later then?’

‘You’re a lifesaver.’ Marcus said. ‘I’ll text Missy to let her know to find your car instead of mine. I would ask for your plate number, but your car is...’

‘...bright red, covered in dents and hard to miss?’ You finished his sentence.

‘Exactly.’

You’d been in the same situation before; pulled between work and parenting, with Jack stuck at school and an important meeting that felt like it was never ending. It was hard to get a sitter on such short notice - or afford one, sometimes - and it was just another one of the million, stressful situations that single parenting could get you into. If you could help Marcus even a little bit, of course you were going to. You knew he’d do the same for you. Heck, he had done the same for you.

Jack and Missy were both chatty on the way home. Given that she was a little older than him, her conversational skills were strikingly better. It was nice to ask someone about their day and not get where are my Cheetos? as an answer. From what you gathered, she hated science class, enjoyed gym, and her favourite subject was lunch. That didn’t come as a surprise to you - her dad was a literal superhero and probably encouraged physical activity.

(You’d seen his arms, okay? They were more than enough to go on. I digress).

The only thing that made you wish you’d had a little more notice on having her for the evening was the state of your apartment. The place wasn’t bad; you’d lived there for the better part of eight years, and it was crammed with soft furniture and millions of blankets, as well as photos of you and Jack and his questionable art projects. It was just that you hadn’t done the dishes that morning, there was a mountain of shoes by the door and the pancakes from the previous night were still stuck on the roof.

Missy barely blinked an eye; the minute she saw your dog, she’d abandoned her bag and was playing with him.

‘Hey buddy!’ She grinned. ‘What’s he called?’

‘That’s Oppy.’ You replied, hanging your jacket up. She didn’t need to know that it was short for Optimus Prime. No guesses on whose idea that had been.

‘He’s so cute!’ Missy continued. ‘I’ve been asking dad for a dog for ages but he won’t budge.’

For some reason, that surprised you a little. Marcus might have been the leader of a super-hero team and a public figure, but you could tell he would do anything for his daughter. You knew because it was the same for you with Jack. He might have ruled your whole life but you would have hung the damn stars in the sky for him if he asked

‘They’re a lot of work.’ You reasoned. ‘I have to wake up every morning at 6AM to make sure he gets a walk. Then there’s the matter of-’

‘- mum! Optimus Prime pooped in the bathroom!’

‘The matter of that.’ You murmured under your breath.

The rest of the evening went pretty smoothly. You fed the kids some leftover takeaway and between the dog and Netflix, they were easily entertained. Jack seemed to take a liking to Missy, which was good because it meant he wanted to sit with her the entire time instead of bouncing off the walls. She had the same patience as her dad, especially when he asked her a million questions about superheroes. It took her twenty minutes to convince him that Batman wasn’t her uncle, and a further fifteen to make him believe that she hadn’t met Captain America.

Jack had asked you a few times about whether or not he would get siblings. Of course, it would be different to any interactions with Missy because he would have been the oldest, but it did get you thinking. You were finally in a place where you were moving past your former relationship and healing from the wounds. Time wasn’t much of an issue either - you’d had Jack when you were young and barely out of college. You couldn’t possibly imagine having any more kids right now, not when it was just the two of you, but in the future? You’d never rule out meeting somebody new. If anything, you were hopeful. Your first relationship had been your only one, and it had ended badly. You wanted to experience love for what it actually was, and not what you thought it was supposed to be.

Not long after 7PM, there was a knock on your door. By that point, both Missy and Jack had passed out on the sofa with Star Wars playing quietly in the background. It had been her idea to watch it - she had good taste. Marcus had clearly done a good job.

‘Hey!’ You greeted him as you pulled open the front door. ‘Come in quick, it’s fucking freezing out there.’

‘Thank you.’ Marcus came inside, dusting a few snow flakes out his hair. ‘Seriously, I can’t say it enough-’

‘- it’s fine!’ You shook your head, offering him a smile. ‘Missy’s been great. She’s really chatty and it was nice to have a coherent conversation with someone that isn’t about Paw Patrol. But was everything at the office okay?’

He was quiet for a minute. ‘Yeah. We uh, we lost someone. A hero.’

‘Shit, man. I’m sorry.’ Your voice fell quiet. ‘You wanna come in? You look like you could probably take a moment.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Of course! Missy and Jack are both asleep on the couch anyways.’ You pointed through to the living room. Marcus leant over to have a look, smiling slightly at the sight.

‘Thank you. I’d appreciate that.’

He took a seat at the kitchen counter. Your old bar stools were a little old and wobbly, but Marcus didn’t seem to notice. If anything, he admired the place. It was cluttered as hell and filled with useless, old items - cook books you didn’t use, random magnets, assorted toys - but it was nice. His house always felt a little cold and clinical. He’d moved a lot over the course of Missy’s life and now that he was retired from the field, he’d sworn to her that their current house was going to be permanent. Whether or not it felt like home was another question entirely.

‘I would offer you a drink but all I have is..’ you paused, opening the fridge. ‘Nesquik, vodka or apple juice.’

‘You know what? A Nesquik doesn’t sound too bad.’

‘I like your thinking, Moreno.’

After quickly fixing up the two drinks, you slid into the seat beside him and handed him one. You had never in a million years imagined a situation where Marcus Moreno would be in your kitchen drinking chocolate milk, but here we were. It had clearly been a long day for him and you had enough of those to last a lifetime, so you knew how it felt. Coming home after a day that had beat your ass into the ground and having to put on a brave face for your kids was difficult at best.

‘Are you sure you’re okay?’ You gently asked.

‘Yeah, I’ll be okay - it just always fucks me up a bit.’ Marcus murmured quietly. ‘Hits a little too close to home.’

He wasn’t an idiot. He knew that you knew what had happened to his wife. You knew why he’d retired, and why he and Missy had moved away from their original city six years ago.

‘Sorry, that was too deep-’

‘- it wasn’t!’ You quickly cut him off. ‘I’ve had random women come up to me at pick up time and say they’re sorry to hear about my divorce. People I don’t even know. So really, after that, nothing is too much.’

He smiled slightly. ‘They always say they’re sorry but why would you bring up a subject if you have to apologise for it?’

‘Exactly!’ You replied. ‘Especially when I’ve moved on. It’s been a year.’

‘It’s the same with me. Missy and I miss her everyday but we don’t mope about it. We just...we look back with fondness on the good memories we have. You can’t move forward if you’re stuck in the past, no matter how much it sucks.’

‘That’s...that’s wise.’ You blinked in surprise. ‘S’pose that means I should take down the dartboard I have with my ex’s face on.’

‘From what I’ve heard, he seems like he should have more than a dart board.’ Marcus snorted - then he froze. ‘Wait, not that I’ve heard stuff, I mean...I don’t listen-’

‘- Marcus!’ You whacked his arm. ‘It’s fine. One of the other kid’s mums started telling me about the terrible divorce someone was going through but she realised she was gossiping to the one who was going through it.’

‘I don’t know how much of what I’ve been told is true, but it sounds like it was bad.’ His hand hovered over where yours was rested on the counter.

‘The rumours pretty much get the gist of it.’ You replied. ‘But we were talking about your thing, so I don’t wanna take away from that.’

‘Hey, it’s okay.’ He finally moved his hand, fingers gently curling underneath yours to intertwine them. ‘If even half of the whispers are true, he sounds like an asshole. You and Jack both deserve better than that.’

Whatever people had said, it had sort of covered the gist of it. You’d married too young and had a kid too young - your ex had been a terrible husband and an even worst husband. He’d chastised Jack for being...well, being Jack. He’d stay out late with his friends, spend money on things neither of you needed and tried to make you take the blame for it all. After giving him a few too many chances, you’d finally reached breaking point and kicked him out. Filing for divorce and taking on being a single parent was single-handedly the hardest and bravest thing you’d ever had to do. In a way, you were glad you’d done it when Jack was still so young - he didn’t really understand any of it, even when you’d try to explain it in child friendly terms.

‘I think people judge me for it a little sometimes.’ You confessed. ‘They see me struggling but they know I made the choice to separate from him, like I brought it all on myself.’

‘That’s bullshit.’ Marcus plainly stated. ‘Parenthood isn’t a dependent thing based on whether or not you’re still married to the other parent. It’s unconditional and permanent.’

‘I should tell him that, but I also don’t want him back in our lives.’

‘I know it’s none of my business, but he doesn’t deserve Jack. He’s one of the best and brightest kids I’ve ever met.’

‘Thank you. I’m glad he doesn’t seem like a complete lunatic.’

‘He doesn’t deserve you either.’ Marcus continued. ‘Again, I might be out of place saying this but you are...you’re amazing. I was a wreck when I was suddenly on my own and you’re still holding everything together and working your ass off.’

‘You’ve noticed?’ You quirked an eyebrow.

‘Yeah, in passing.’ He admitted. ‘I remember I once saw you carrying three separate science projects at once and then Carol made a passing comment that you were on your own and...I just kinda admired you from afar.’

‘You, Marcus Moreno, admired me?’ You blinked at him in disbelief. ‘I find that hard to believe.’

‘I wish I’d had my shit together half as much as you did when I lost Missy’s mum.’

‘But the difference is you didn’t have a choice in your situation. I chose to boot his dad out-’

‘- you gotta stop discrediting yourself.’ He shook his head. ‘And stop blaming yourself. You did what was right for your kid and that is the most admirable thing of all.’

‘You really think so?’

‘I know so.’

The conversation slowly drizzled away, leaving you two to just look at each other. It was hard to tear yourself away from his brown eyes - there was a lot going on behind them. Fear, pain, anguish, admiration. He was one of the most mind-blowingly impressive people you’d ever met; single dad, superhero, electric car owner. He probably didn’t have a mortgage too and that was kinda hot. You were none of those things and yet, here he was, with you, managing to connect on a level that you never had with anyone. Both of your situations were tough, but they’d brought you together.

Marcus Moreno was pretty fucking fearless (came with the job, you figured), and he wasn’t afraid to make the first move. He slowly inched his head forward and in return, you gravitated towards him. Your lips met halfway in a soft kiss, his hands moving to firmly hold your waist as he pulled you closer.

You almost stumbled out your chair with the movement, but his grip on your hips meant you didn’t slip. Instead, he placed you up on the counter, standing up as he did. It took you a moment to adjust to the position, but with your legs resting on either side of his, you could reach forward and lean on him. You had one hand tangled in his hair and the other on the back of his neck - you’d surprised yourself with that. It had been months since you’d kissed anyone, but you weren’t as rusty as you thought.

‘Oh my god, is the superhero gonna be my new dad?!’

Marcus suddenly jumped backwards at the sound of Jack’s voice. He was stood in the doorway, post-nap hair covered by a lopsided Chewbacca hood. His eyes were like dinner plates, even though he was grinning from ear to ear.

‘Uh...’ you glanced between him and Marcus. ‘We were just...we were...’

‘I had something in my eye.’

‘He had something in his eye.’ You quickly agreed. ‘But now it’s out, so Marcus is gonna go home.’

He knew you didn’t mean it rudely - it was more of a desperation thing. The longer he stayed, the more questions Jack would come out with. Missy could have overheard too and that would have been twice as much to explain. So really, the sooner he got out, the better.

‘Yeah. I’ll uh, I’ll grab Missy.’ Marcus said, scratching the back of his head. ‘Thank you again for looking after her.’

‘You don’t need to keep thanking me.’ You shot back.

He disappeared into the living room for a moment, reemerging with a sleeping Missy in his arms a moment later. Your eyes met again, and he gave you a soft smile.

‘I’ll call you.’

‘Yeah, sure.’ You nodded. ‘See you, Marcus.’

True to character, the next hour was spent being pelted with questions from your over-curious son. He didn’t shut up once when you were bathing him and he got even louder when you were reading him his best time story. On the bright side, you’d managed to get him to change out of his slightly manky Wookiee onesie and into a clean Buzz Lightyear one. Normally, you would have argued that he couldn’t live in pyjamas, but if it kept him quiet? It was a price you were willing to pay.

‘Night, kiddo.’ You pressed a kiss to his forehead, switching on his nightlight. ‘Remember our deal, yeah? If I buy you a Happy Meal tomorrow, you won’t mention what you saw to any of your friends?’

‘You said library was bad.’

‘No, it’s bribery.’ You corrected him. ‘And do as I say, not as I do.’

‘Sounds bad, but okay.’ He sleepily murmured. ‘Night.’

‘Night.’ You stood up, flicking out his bedroom lights.

‘Wait, mum!’ Jack suddenly sat up, as though he’d remembered something. ‘You never said no.’

‘No to what, buddy?’

‘When I asked if the superhero was my new dad.’

Well, fuck.

taglist: @naivara-duneimith @1-2-3-4-5metalfingers @likeshootingstarsinthenightsky @lyanna-the-giantsbane @phoenixhalliwell @crazycookiecrumbles @bitchin-beskar @comphersjost {message me to be added!}

#marcus moreno x reader #marcus moreno imagine #marcus moreno x you #marcus moreno x y/n #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character headcanons #pedro pascal characters x reader

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earthfire-75 · 3 years

Text

You Send Me Flying

Chapter Two:

Author’s notes: co-written with @nature-and-music, beta’d by @lady-jane-revisited. Based on The Dirt movie as I still don’t have the book ☹️ not smut…yet.

Vince came back after a few minutes and found us still in the kitchen. “Hey, guys, listen, she wants to go home-“

“What? No way! We still have to practice!” Nikki spoke up.

“Jesus H. Christ. If I wasn’t fed up with her shit before, I am now. That woman fucks with my nerves and doesn’t bother with a courtesy reach-around. She can take a cab, for fuck’s sake, or call her daddy.”

Nikki points over at me. “I like her, she can stay. Your girlfriend on the other hand…”

Vince sighs. “I’ll see what I can do.” He leaves to go talk to her again and we can hear her yelling through the door. It takes longer, but Vince does eventually come back in. “Ok guys, she’s gone.”

Everyone gave a sigh of relief at that announcement. For the remainder of the day, the boys continued with playing more songs until the sun began to set. We were all feeling a little peckish and so we decided to call in a phone order for Chinese food. After the food arrived, we sat round the coffee table to eat, Nikki passing out notebooks and pens to Tommy, Vince and Mick.

“Ok, so here’s my theory,” Nikki begins, “if we wanna knock people on their asses, then we gotta give ‘em a show. The Punks, they’re doing the minimalistics, so let’s take it in the exact opposite direction. I’m…I’m talking like stadium shows in the clubs, man. Like costumes and lights-“

“And pyro! With flames and explosions and shit!” Tommy interrupts, turning his can of hairspray and lighter into a makeshift torch.

“Exactly, exactly! Look, it’s a fuckin’ war out there, and the only way we win is by showing these kids something they’ve never seen before.”

“So what do we call this thing?” Vince asks.

“Here…” Nikki picks up his notebook and starts flipping through the pages. “It’s all about being larger than life!” He finally holds up his notebook for us to see a pentagram with X Mass under it.

“X Mass?” Vince asks.

“Yeah…”

“On a scale of one to ten…I give it a one point nine.” Mick intones, making the other three laugh.

I shook my head in feigned anguish, “That’s harsh. Accurate, but harsh!”

Mick just shrugs.

“It’s a play on Christmas! You know, you can use all the Christ imagery and shit! It’ll piss people off and make people think, you know?”

Tommy makes a face and I could tell Mick still wasn’t convinced.

“It’s got shock value…”

Vince shook his head.

“Yeah, I’m shocked by how much it blows.”

I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing. Mick has some wicked wit. Which, by the way, does nothing to cool down my attraction to him as we sat around the table.

Nikki tossed the notebook down, “Alright, assholes, you give it a shot. But make it big!”

Everyone picks up their notebooks and a pen or marker. Vince looks like he can’t come up with anything, and I find myself entranced by Mick’s look of concentration, but Tommy is quickly scribbling in his. When he’s done, he turns it around. I couldn’t believe what I saw. Tommy’s childish giggle was enough to confirm I wasn’t seeing things. Vince laughed and Nikki scoffed while Mick rolled his eyes.

“Still have the mind of a twelve year old, I see. As well as the body.”

“Ouch…and she says I’m the harsh one.”

“The Foreskins? Really? Tommy?”

“Yeah! Cause we’re gonna fuck the audience in the face every night, dude!”

“Yeah, but…but can you see that shit on the marquee above the Forum?!”

“Yeah, ok, you’re right. I’m out.”

Vince holds up his hands, indicating he’s not even gonna try. But Mick starts to write something down thoughtfully. The guys seem impressed when he turns the notebook in his hands. “I’ve been waiting a long time for this day.”

“Alright,” Nikki says, taking the notebook from Mick and adding to it, the dots over the O and changing crew to Crue with the dots over the U. Mick smiles with satisfaction. It’s the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen and damn if I wouldn’t fall head over heels if I stuck around. And yet…

“Hey, you were talking about costumes before. Does that include makeup?” I asked Nikki before I could stop myself.

“Yeah! Yeah! All that shit!” Nikki enthuses. “Why, you know someone who can do that?”

I just smile and point at myself.

“No shit?”

“Yeah,” Vince pipes up, “she’s getting her makeup artist license. She’s perfect for the job!”

I smile, “Well I do need a job, and based on what I’m hearing, I am getting a few ideas in mind as to how you could all dress. I mean, if you’re interested in what i have to say.” I grabbed the notebook and pen to create a quick sketch of possible outfits or makeup. The guys were interested, some even suggesting to add their own ideas as to what they could wear too. Talks of leather, tight pants, belts, and a bit of heavy make up were tossed around, “Nikki you said that you guys want to go all out? This is how you do it.”

Mick rested his chin on his palm as he looked over the drawings, “That’s pretty wicked actually.”

I felt my cheeks becoming warm after hearing his compliment, and who else but Tommy proceeded to tease me with a schoolboy-ish tone, “Oooooh!”

“Fuck off Tommy!” I shouted, hitting him with the notebook, although that hardly affected his immature outburst when he made a puckered up kissing face. “You’re such an asshole!” I stood up and headed towards the balcony to cool off. Once I was out there, I took out my lighter and pack of cigarettes. The stupid thing wouldn’t light up, it had to be low on butane. I chucked the lousy device into the street and rested my elbows onto the steel bars, letting out a frustrated huff.

The night was warm, typical of most any night in the City of Angels. The street lights were already glowing bright, except for one near the end of the street that’s blinking. The light’s trying its very best to burn bright this evening. The sound of approaching footsteps are of no concern to me, instead I kept my eyes on the concrete ground below me. A clicking noise caused me to turn around, there’s Mick with a lighter in hand, the flame burning bright. He brought it close to my cigarette and, after inhaling the harsh, familiar taste of tobacco in my mouth, I thanked him.

“You alright?” Mick wondered, standing by my side.

I simply shrugged my shoulders, “It’s whatever, Tommy’s always been like that for as long as I’ve known him. I don’t really care anymore.”

“You sure about that?” he asked nonchalantly.

I scowled at him and spat back, “Why do you care?” I took another drag and puffed out a cloud of smoke to him.

He raised an eyebrow and then headed back inside. A part of me was kicking myself for responding back at him like that, yet I was reminding myself that I had more important matters to focus on. Quite frankly, he shouldn’t have been one of them.

@nature-and-music @lady-jane-revisited @mickmarstookmyheart @gothicfuneralsblog @sophiazeppelinchick

#motely crue #mick mars #mick mars x reader #mick mars fanfic #motley crue fanfiction

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sharkselfies · 3 years

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The Minds Behind The Terror Podcast Transcript - Episode 4

Our journey comes to an end with the transcript for episode 4 of The Minds Behind The Terror Podcast, where Dave Kajganich, Soo Hugh, Dan Simmons, and Adam Nagaitis discuss the last two episodes of the series. Once again, Adam steals the show with his revelations about Mr. Hickey, but we also hear about everyone’s favorite death scenes, the fight to let Mr. Blanky say fuck, the many changes the writers made to the ending that differed from the novel, and the importance of trusting your audience’s intelligence.

The Minds Behind The Terror Podcast - Episode 4

[The Terror opening theme music]

Dave Kajganich: Welcome to the fourth and final installment of The Minds Behind AMC’s The Terror as we discuss our final two episodes of the show! I’m Dave Kajganich, creator and co-showrunner of the series, here with the honorable Dan Simmons, creator of the novel The Terror on which the series is based. Also with us is Soo Hugh, executive producer and co-showrunner of the show, and Adam Nagaitis, who plays a man who plays a man called Cornelius Hickey. Welcome back!

Adam Nagaitis: Hi!

Dan Simmons: Hi Dave.

DK: So we launch into our final episodes. Now we are in an episode where the show begins to bend time. We cover a lot of ground in episode nine, a lot of distance, we say goodbye to quite a lot of characters, and we start to really bend the tone and the shape of the narrative towards the kind of horrible collision that’s coming between Crozier and Hickey and our Tuunbaq.

Soo Hugh: So in nine we say goodbye to so many of our characters. I mean Dave and I cried so--

[laughter]

SH: The amount of tears that he and I shed editing this show, especially with nine and ten. For you guys, Adam and Dan, which were the deaths--well, what did you think of the deaths?

DS: What’s your favorite death?

[laughter]

SH: Yeah, what was your favorite death?

AN: My favorite was probably, the one that really moved me was Fitzjames, it’s such a fantastic story, his character’s so interesting, that transition, discovering, you know, admitting who you are, and the firework at the Tuunbaq being his feat of courage, and then to end up, to embrace death, and to do it in such a beautiful way. And then the line of “there will be poems” that Mr. Bridgens says.

[show audio]

[sad, eerie music]

Bridgens (through tears): It was an honor serving you, sir. You’re a good man. There will be poems.

AN: It’s a beautiful death, it’s probably the best you can ask for, in that situation, you’re with a friend. Yeah, it’s quite sad. Of course you gotta love Blanky’s death as well, that’s, I’m cheating, now, yeah, but Blanky’s death is the greatest line to go out on, surely.

[show audio]

[Tuunbaq growling, shales crunching underfoot]

Blanky: What in the name of god took you so fuckin’ long?

[Tuunbaq snorts, Blanky laughs maniacally]

DK: We weren’t entirely sure whether AMC was going to permit us to use that word, a curse word, because on AMC you’re not meant to. Luckily for us, there are a number of AMC shows that have a precedent of using that word and we argued successfully that, you know, could you ask for a better show, a better scene than a Victorian disaster show to use the F-word, and they finally allowed us to use it, and we’re really grateful.

SH: I think just visually Bridgens’ death was so beautiful, and that pull out. And what was interesting was in our research found, we discovered, there was a corpse they discovered who had rolled over and was found sleeping on a set of papers, and in the show Bridgens takes Peglar’s diary when he chooses to die out there in the cold alone comforted with his memories, we see him roll over, and so that’s just our nod to history. Now it turns out we don't know whether or not it was actually Peglar’s diary, it could have been Armitage’s--

DK: No, I think we know it’s Peglar’s journal, but we don’t know whether the man lying on top of it was Armitage or Bridgens.

SH: Then there’s Goodsir’s death. Oh my God, Goodsir! I can’t believe Hickey! Adam! Goodsir!

AN: Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know. He had it comin’!

[laughter]

AN: I forgot that death, I forgot all of those deaths, actually, what a--so beautifully acted. I mean, unbelievable. It was perfect. The pure clean images of the coral, and the shell, oh I loved it, and the end, I think it’s an orchid, I just loved it, I absolutely--it’s something that I don’t like talking about, that death, it’s really horrible.

[show audio]

[the rising music from the scene of Goodsir’s death]

DS: They were all very moving in their own way, saying goodbye to each of the characters, surprisingly powerful, you know, some of ‘em were not major characters, but everything connected for me watching your version. When--earlier, when Fitzjames is out with Crozier alone, and Fitzjames sort of acknowledges that he’s a fake, that he’s just been faking this heroism, you know, the admiralty thought they sent a hero, they sent Fitzjames, he was the man of the moment, but he hadn’t done that much, so he had the courage to say that, and Crozier immediately had the compassion to point out, “No, you’re here, now, and you’re doing fine,” that’s not the dialect but that’s the essence of his message. So all through these scenes with the different characters, I found compassion again. [It] was the way Crozier touched men who were close to the end, the tone of his voice, you know, it wasn’t mawkish, he wouldn’t like being at all sentimental, but it was so supportive. It was like Goodsir helping the poor boy at the beginning of the show, telling him how death could be good, how you see light, you cross over. The kid died in terror; some of these people did. But most of ‘em, they’re like--Fitzjames, when he’s, you know, when he finally has to be carried in the sledge, and he has a sense of humor at the end, he can laugh at himself, somewhat, ‘cause he tells Crozier that that the bullet that went through his arm into his chest, that area is now so gangrene--er, rotten, you know, the bullet is finally going to kill him. Haha.

[polite awkward laughter]

DK: Well you pointed out a line from the first episode, where Fitzjames is talking to Franklin and he says, “Sometimes I think you love your men more than God loves them,” and Franklin's response is “For all your sakes, let’s hope you’re wrong,” and we brought that line back in a different way in episode nine, which is where the survivors of the Terror Camp attack are about to leave, and they know Hickey’s out there somewhere, and Fitzjames’s impulse is to hide or destroy all of their extra supplies so that Hickey’s group can’t benefit from them, and Crozier has the opposite instinct, which is because he knows some people in Hickey’s group probably made that decision because they were afraid that the alternative was worse to stay with Crozier and so many people, that he wants to offer them the resources in case they can use them and in case they wanna make a different decision in the days ahead.

[show audio]

Fitzjames: And the supplies we cannot carry? If Hickey’s band are waiting us out to loot the camp?

Crozier: Some of the men with them made their choice out of fear, I’ll not take away any chance they have to survive. We may meet them yet again, and if we do, I want them to make a different choice. Leave our supplies in a tidy pile, as an offering. I want the men with Hickey to know that’s how we meant it.

[shales crunching underfoot]

Fitzjames: More than God loves them...

DK: Lines like that are a real test, I mean, you struggle with them in the editing room. Did we earn that line? Is it important that an audience remembers that as an index point that line has now been sort of superficially applied to one man, but more sincerely applied to another man, and, you know, that goes back to sort of a close reading of the book, Dan, just sort of scouring through your dialogue trying to figure out how does a master, if I can refer to you that way, approach this idea of a relationship with an audience? And we learned an enormous amount from your book about restraint and indirection, and credit, giving the audience credit. And I will say this, the series is different enough from your novel that I would encourage everyone who has seen the television show but not read your book to seek it out, because they will have just as rewarding--even more so, possibly!--a time of learning about this history through the lens of horror than they did watching the show. So I think they complement one another. I hope they do, and I hope people will seek out both.

DS: That’s kind of you, Dave. My wife keeps track of the tie-in version of the book, and it’s selling very well, so some people are gonna get that.

SH: There is this fantastic scene that is in your book, that we had neither money nor time to shoot, but it’s where they discover leads, and they take the boats out going around, and they realize they’re just going around in a circle. We didn’t have the time to shoot that and we re-jiggered our narrative so that the leads ended up being a ploy on one of Hickey’s secret mutineers. Nine is a very quiet episode, and in some ways when you, in television shows--did you miss a set piece, in nine? Did anyone miss having a bigger narrative punch?

DS: Well, I'll answer, then let Adam answer, but for me, who had that boat scene and really liked it a lot, I didn’t miss my stuff too much, because what happened was when the young man, a boy actually, who’s secretly under Hickey’s control tells Crozier and the others he sees open water, and they rush to the rocky beach to see it, and of course that was a lie and a ploy to get them there so Hickey can seize them, but my heart just flew, that, “Open water! Ohh boy!” You know? How would men have felt if they’d heard that, in reality, what was their reaction? ‘Cause the open water could conceivably be their savior, they could get other places, not just cross over and start marching through middle Canada, but they could go anywhere on open water, and to see it all locked in with ice was just stunning to me, it was such a disappointment. So no, I don’t miss my part of it very much.

AN: I never thought of it as something that suggests a quiet narrative like you described it, Soo, to me it sort of links--I see nine and ten as one episode, really. It’s this slow build, the creation of that relationship that these two--the antithesis between these two camps, and between the tactics employed... I just think that the way you guys wrote it and put it together is flawless, I just think it’s so beautifully weighted, between, you know, the deaths that to me they don’t seem to just sort of monotonously pile up, they’re all just so beautifully handled and acted. And the whole time you have this tension building, slowly, slowly, that, you know, that it’s gonna come to a head. I didn’t feel when I watched it that it ever lacked punch. It had such clarity and such patience that made it really beautiful.

DS: And I don’t know if we can say the C-word on podcasts… cannibalism?

[laughter]

DK: Yes, that one we can.

SH: Yes.

DS: Oh, ok. You know there was a--if Hickey hadn’t already divided the troop into his people, the anointed, and then Crozier’s group, it would have happened anyway because of the cannibalism. And when you think about it, think of that rugby team or soccer team or whatever that crashed in the Andes. They went back into society. They were cannibals, they admitted it, they got a book deal. And so, presumably, even in England, these people would have been forgiven, or they would have kept it secret like some do. So cannibalism, what it did in this show, I think, divides the people. I didn’t see, until he was forced to imbibe in cannibalism, I didn't see Crozier even considering it. And so that fascinates me, just how far people will go to survive.

[show audio]

[tense music, tent canvas flapping in the wind]

EC: I’ll give you some advice. Don’t indulge your morals over your practicals. Not now. Don’t you also wanna live?

SH: Dave, we talked a lot about this, is when you’re in that moment, you’re not Dave Kajganich and I’m not Soo Hugh, in that moment, choosing whether or not we decide to eat someone. Something else will take over, whether it is the Goodsir in us or whether it is the Hickey in us, in that moment. I think that’s why when we shot that scene, you know, after Gibson is cut up, Adam, remember when we shot the reaction shots from each one of you eating your first bite of human flesh meat, and we took so much footage, we shot so much. We shot, you know, closes, mediums, just because Dave and I, you know, at that point, we were very confident of how to shoot everything, that was probably the moment when we were like ugh.

DK: Well we wanted to know how little we could get away with, and what we found, of course, which is typical for the show, the performances were so terrific, that we didn’t need very much. And I remember on the mix stage, the first mix that they did of the show, of that episode, I mean, there was quite a lot of chewing.

[laughter]

And so when I said, no no no, let’s pull all of that out, and use the most minute changes in expression, because all of you at that table were so well in character, that even the slightest muscle movement on your face communicated everything we needed you to. And we were obviously very interested in not overplaying that scene, knowing that audiences had been waiting for it, wondering how, in what kind of taste we would show it, you know, how we would modulate it, and you know a rule throughout the show was to try to present everything with its most practical face, including this. And so, you know, hopefully when that lands for people it will be both satisfying in the sense that they will understand how these characters made that decision but it won’t feel that we have over-articulated it, somehow.

DS: I’m not religious, but I’m obsessed with religion, and in your story, the way you structured it, you have, in a sense, we’ve already talked, or at least I have, about how Hickey seems to be evolving towards Messiahdom, I think he near the end he thinks he is the Messiah, but it’s Goodsir who provides The Last Supper. How much more powerful a story of Christ is there, than, you know, “Take, eat,” and it’s yourself? And it’s fascinating to me that the man who dedicated his life to helping people and curing people and being empathic at their ending, his last act is to kill as many of Hickey’s people as possible. And, you know, so there’s--that’s where the trial was, it wasn’t when Hickey was gonna be hanged, it was inside Dr. Goodsir when he decided that “These people need to end and I will do it.”

SH: So should we talk about the big scene at the end--well, it’s not the end, it’s the Tuunbaq sequence in 1.10?

DK: To set it up, Adam, you know, Hickey--we’ll keep calling him Hickey even though we’ve established he isn’t--you get an important piece of information in episode nine where Tozer, Sergeant Tozer, relays to you a piece of information that he hasn’t shared with anyone, that he watched Collins be killed and he watched Collins’s soul be pulled out of his body. And, you know, for Hickey, suddenly a lot of things make sense. What happened to Private Heather, who was alive for many episodes but no longer sort of present in his body, I mean you even have a scene where you poke his brain hoping to get some kind of reaction out of him, and you take that piece of information and you suddenly realize you’re not longer in a kind of survival story, you’re in kind of a spiritual story, you’re in kind of a mythological story, suddenly. Can you talk about how you decided to play that so it was sort of clear to an audience what that opportunity was? Because we did not devote a lot of dialogue to it, it was going to have to be something an audience felt as much as was described to them.

AN: I can only describe the way that it--the process--the mind of it, that, you know, you see Hickey has a plan, up until that point, he’s started--the way that I thought about it was that, you know, once he starts to hear things, he starts to have this space of this area, creates this space in his mind and he understands the things that have come before him and his curiosity leads him to, you know--one element in him is still practically engaged in survival, and outmaneuvering the captain, and heading south, and coming up with a plan and, you know, a story as to what happened, but then there are other elements of, you know, consuming human flesh, that there might be an answer there, it might be an enlightening experience. And if it’s not in that, is it something else? And he finds the hill, and he understands when he sees that hill, that he hears something, and then he’s not quite clear on what it is, what’s drawing him, and what’s talking to him, and what he’s feeling, but he’s becoming one with this realm, and, you know, he starts to, once he discovers the supernatural element--not that he hasn’t already established that there is one, but the fact that it’s such a specific--he’s been developing his knowledge of the summoning song that Lady Silence sings to become a Shaman, you know, the rules of this particular realm, this empire. And he’s been gathering this information as we go along, all the way through the series he’s been taking pieces of information, and he pockets it and learns and keeps it for later.

[show audio]

[mysterious music]

Hickey: Tuunbaq… a spirit that dresses as an animal, and yet we shot it with a cannon and drew blood. How do you reconcile that?

Crozier: I can’t. There’s much about this voyage I can’t reconcile.

Hickey: What mythology is this creature at the center of?

Crozier: About the creature I have no answers, Mr. Hickey. We were not meant to know of it.

AN: And when he gets this key piece of the puzzle, that the Tuunbaq is taking souls, and that... there’s a hierarchy of what the Tuunbaq wants to eat. You know, a captain, and important people, he realizes that he really is the center of this universe. I suppose the way that I adjusted it was that everybody else became irrelevant. Completely irrelevant. I no longer needed to worry about manipulation, control, fear. Everything was gonna sing for me, everything was gonna work as if I had magic hands, and my voice just dictated what the universe would do.

[show audio]

[mysterious music continued]

Hickey: I didn’t have anywhere near an equal on this expedition. But you. I wanted to thank you for that. On the eve of what is quite an important day.

AN: Every single conversation was an annoyance because it was getting in the way of me listening to the universe, this world, this empire, this realm that was now speaking to me. And I was talking to the Tuunbaq, you know, from this distance, and we had this dance going, and everything that happened was just getting in my way. It was all gonna work itself out because I’ve been chosen to ascend, to reach this ascension, to, you know, ride the Tuunbaq into my new empire, to take my new throne, and I was finally gonna be given the answers to these questions that I’d been asking.

[show audio]

[rushing wind, men singing weakly in the background, creaking]

Hickey (shouting): Bugger Nelson! Bugger Jesus! Bugger Joseph and Mary! Bugger the Archbishop of Canterbury! None ever wanted nothing from me!

SH: When you offer the Tuunbaq the tongue, and there’s that pause, what’s gonna happen, and he bites your arm off instead, and that look on your face of just, you know, “You too have failed me.”

DS: Et tu?

[laughter]

“Et tu, Tuunbaq?”

[laughter]

AN: “Et tu, Tuunbaq,” that’s a great T-shirt. But that scene, I drifted, but that scene in particular, is a slight difference to what his plan was, which was to climb the hill, sacrifice the men, sacrifice the tongue, and to become one with the Tuunbaq and to take my place on the throne in this new realm. And to find the answers and maybe, you know, climb through to a different realm, or who knows what. This empire was now my empire, which was the culmination of all of Hickey through his entire life has been leading to this point, and he’s quietened himself enough to hear it, and then suddenly he gets sick, because somebody poisons him. And so it’s a slightly different feeling, as he’s climbing the hill, and it’s a different--something else is happening inside him. He’s still perfectly capable of executing his plan, he gets carried away in that scene, and then by the time the Tuunbaq appears, he kind of focuses again, and becomes very excited. It’s a relationship with the Tuunbaq, it’s a dance, that everything is for him and the Tuunbaq. Everyone else is irrelevant.

[show audio]

[Tuunbaq snuffling, boat chain clanking]

[the Tuunbaq roars, sound of chomping flesh, then the screeching sound of the soul being eaten]

SH: And what he gets so wrong about the Tuunbaq, and I think what a lot of the Western characters in our show get wrong about the Tuunbaq, is that the Tuunbaq is not a deity, the Tuunbaq doesn’t ask to be a god, right? All it is is just this arbiter of what is good or what is not good for the land, you know, there’s no sense of the Tuunbaq wanting to be the ultimate creative force here, and I think that’s where Hickey was wrong, right?

AN: I think he sees it as a supernatural creature, and again, because everything comes through him, and the universe revolves around him, that it’s a challenge for him, it’s a question for him, and he deals a lot in questions as opposed to answers, and what his position is in the universe, and by the time he meets this creature that eats souls--and the creature’s sick, and it’s because he hasn’t united with it yet! It’s because of me that it’s sick, it hasn’t, I haven’t been in contact with it, and we haven’t united ourselves and taken over this empire, and he doesn’t see it for what it is. SH: And when you guys see the Tuunbaq’s death in the very end of that sequence, how did you guys feel?

DS: Speaking for the novelist here, I was surprised; and then I got through the surprise and thought yeah. And then I immediately wondered how Lady Silence would have to pay for this death, ‘cause you’d already shown me that she’s in charge of protecting the Tuunbaq, so it was controlling it in some way, and she wasn’t really up to the task, so I liked that in going, when Crozier’s with the Inuit band, learning that she’s been punished and sent out by herself. But the Tuunbaq’s death itself just seemed right at that time.

[show audio]

[Tuunbaq’s death scene--growling noises, boat chain clinking, Crozier struggling]

AN: It was a horrible thing to watch, as a viewer, it was so sad, and it spoke to me of this sort of contemporary sort of--to me it was sort of a global warming issue, not to bring it ‘round, but it was sort of like, that’s it, they’ve killed it.

SH: No, absolutely, yeah!

AN: They’ve killed it, they’ve killed the Tuunbaq and we’re actually rejoicing at Crozier’s survival. But really, the man deserves death, with the creature that creates balance to this culture should be alive. And we have this upside down world that we are celebrating, which is so, you know, intelligent of you guys to create, and it’s difficult to take, but that creature is gone, and so balance is gone, and here we are.

DK: The very specific and subtle thing that we put in the show that probably no will decode it ‘til they hear this podcast, but was important to us as a structural element, was Sir John dies, when he’s killed down the fire hole in episode three, he has some flashes of subjective kinds of hallucinations, I suppose, or visions, I don’t know what you would call them. But one of them is of open water, it’s just a vista of the future of the Arctic, that there are going to be these, you know, that there’s going to be a huge melt, and there’s going to be all this open water. And for the final shot we tried to match, as much as we could, the angle, so that all of that frozen water that Crozier is sitting on at that seal hole would maybe possibly evoke that memory, to speak to what you’re saying, Adam, which is that this whole thing is a kind of, from the Netsilik’s point of view, it’s a huge tragedy in which these Europeans are the terrors, in a way. And not to be too reductive about it, but, you know, we wanted the season to have that kind of change of polarity, which is one reason why we couldn’t quite use the sort of the ending of the book, as much as we loved it, Dan, it felt like a lot of things that would feel--that would pull the point of view of the season across that line too much and too late. We wanted to try to modulate it a little bit so that every episode felt like you were giving some room in your point of view for Lady Silence’s perspective, or the Inuit’s perspective, and that that change would sort of happen so slowly you might not even notice that it was happening at all, which is one reason why we made that decision.

DS: You gave every character I saw room to have his or her own apotheosis, which is a big theme with you guys, I meant, the arcs end and people becoming someone else. Crozier grows into his leadership, I think, beautifully. Maybe he deserved punishment, but I found Crozier and his empathy, as Fitzjames is dying in the boat, it’s Crozier that touches him and lets him know, you know, through physical contact, that he’s not alone. And giving them room is unusual. I just find there’s so many unusual elements to what you three have created, that, I have to warn you, I think it deserves a lot of intelligent attention.

DK: Well I hope we can volley a lot of those right back to the book, Dan. Well we should take some time at the end to--given that after the sequence, this really becomes almost a kind of silent film to deliver the ending to Crozier’s arc--to really sing the praises of Jared Harris in this show, I mean, what he did with this role is remarkable. So, Dan, I would love to know what you thought of Jared Harris’s Francis Crozier?

DS: After watching the ten episodes of him and all those, and watching what he did with it, I just wanted him to adopt me.

[laughter]

SH: He would love that!

DS: But it certainly--leading is the operative word, isn’t it? He just, he didn’t give 100 or 1000 percent, he gave more than that to the character. He became Crozier for me. I’m the one who had to dream up the man, and see what he looked like, and write about him for about 1100 pages, 700 finally in type, and so I had my Crozier, he was pretty solid. But now Jared Harris is Crozier. There’s no doubt in my mind.

DK: The ending of the season is quite different from the ending of the book, Dan, how did you feel watching the ending of the show, and, in all candor, do you feel that it was satisfying? Do you feel that it was at least a good companion piece for the ending of the book?

DS: Well I’m glad I didn't video record my reaction the first time I saw the different ending, because speaking for two million readers I stood up and shouted, “What's wrong with my ending!”

[laughter]

“Is it chopped liver?” And I realized it would be. I realized that I don’t think you could have taken my ending and made it a sensible finale visually in the way it went. So I tracked--the whole episodes, the last two episodes, were enlightenment to me, because I’m just a viewer now, I’m watching something I didn’t create, these are not my ideas, so I sat back and enjoyed it, as horrible as they were. So when I watch your ending, the only thing I was bothered by was I’m sentimental. And the real Crozier, I believe, and certainly the fictional Crozier that we’ve all created, was so lonely, he was so alone in life, I think he was less alone than Crozier was, and, you know, rejected by Franklin’s niece several times from marriage, a life where he really felt rejection, probably more than Hickey did, and at the end I wanted him to be with someone. So as much as I liked your ending and I really thought it was proper and appropriate for the series, I woulda put a person next to him as he’s fishing out there in, you know, in his Inuit outfit at night waiting by a seal--he’s not fishing, he’s waiting by a seal breathing hole to kill it. So if I’d seen a glimpse of two of them, you wouldn’t even need to see their faces, you know, the sentimental side of me woulda been happy.

SH: But we leave that ambiguous in the ending, in terms of he’s not with Lady Silence, she, you know, had to pay the bill in some ways for the loss of the Tuunbaq and her destiny is to venture forth alone, and in some ways her storyline is the most tragic of all the characters in our show because, I mean, the price she paid is so harsh. But in terms of the last shot, which Dave and I just knew from pretty early on that was gonna be our last shot, and it felt right. We don’t know much about Crozier’s biography, you know? For all we know that child could be his, it may not. We actually didn’t want to fill in too much of the coloring book at that point. It’s up to the audience to describe whether or not that last shot is--it’s interesting ‘cause we had this big argument, lovely argument in the color suite, the grading suite, of how we grade that last shot. Whether we grade it bright and sunny to be optimistic, or we grade it with a lot of contrast and stamp down a lot of the light to make it seem that, you know, there’s a sense--a harshness, to this reality. And in some ways we split the middle, so the audience can decide whether or not the life Crozier has at the end is one of punishment, reckoning, or whether or not he will move on and have something different.

DK: And I think something in that final shot that certainly we couldn’t have planned, that tipped things in a warmer direction was the child that plays that boy in the shot, who’s meant to be sleeping against Crozier as he’s waiting at the seal hole, really fell asleep because he was wrapped up in fur, and Jared’s a very welcoming person, and he fell asleep. And in the middle of that shot he twitches in his sleep, like children do. And I think that if you catch that it’s quite undeniably a warm moment. You don’t know whether that’s Crozier’s son, whether that’s just a friend’s son, someone he’s taking care of, but you do get a sense that there is a community and that it’s a warm one, even though that life will be difficult and he will occupy no position of leadership in that world, he will be--you know, he’s missing a hand at that point, it’s going to be a rough rough road ahead of him, but we decided to sort of be as ambiguous as we could but for that child who twitches in his sleep, which we just loved that, that that’s a part of that final shot of the show.

DS: Now you’ve made me wanna go back watch that scene about ten times. I think you did at the ending essentially what you chose to do throughout the series, which is to trust in the intelligence and the sensibilities of the audience. So in that sense I like it a lot, but I admire it too. It just, I’m just sentimental, I just want Crozier finally to find somebody.

[show audio]

[”The Gates of Paradise” by Robert Fripp, which is the music from that aforementioned final scene of Crozier and the little boy asleep at the seal hole, plays]

SH: And with episode ten, the story of the Franklin Expedition on AMC is completed. And Dave, you’ve been working on this project now for ten or twelve years, I’ve been on it for two and a half years, Adam you’ve been on this journey for a long time, Dan you’ve probably been--how long has it been for you?

DS: Oh, since about 1994!

SH: Yeah, wow. I mean, what is it about this story that means it’s hard to let go? Even now I feel like there’s a grieving process that I feel like I have.

DS: I know why it’s hard to let go. You created real people, you did something that is incredibly rare I think, for any media, movies, series, anything. They’re real people, and when they suffer the viewer suffers with them. When they try to fight back and survive, that’s the viewer’s impression, and we’re sorry to see each one of them go, including Hickey. So, I think there’s a success in what you set out to do.

SH: We’re just so thrilled that, you know, you gave us the trust to do your book but also that you love it! We were so nervous that you would hate this adaptation!

[laughter]

DK: Well and now what’s amazing is we all get to sort of take a seat in the theater of real history playing out again, now that they’ve discovered the ships. You know, we’ve been told by Parks Canada and by people we’ve met who are actively on the archeological expeditions now, dives to the ships, that there is a chance that they will find a ship’s log, and that all of the questions that have come up and perplexed us and preoccupied us and fascinated us in the researching of both the writing of the novel and the creating of the television show, that those questions may have answers soon. And so now we are all now back in that position of being riveted by this actual history. And what a treat it will be to have a conversation in a year when we have learned hopefully much more about what actually happened on this expedition.

[“The Gates of Paradise” begins playing again softly in the background]

DS: If I were on the expedition ship and found the log, the diaries, everything, I would hide them.

[laughter]

DK: Agreed.

AN: Yep, absolutely.

DS: I mean we’ve all done a lot of work here, who cares about reality?

[laughter]

DK: Well thank you, Adam, thank you Dan, for joining us, Soo and I have had a fantastic time having this extended conversation that hopefully is interesting to people who have watched and appreciated the show. So thank you for the opportunity to do it, it’s been fantastic to talk to you both, and onwards we go, into the future!

SH: Onwards ho!

DS: Onward.

AN: Onward. Thank you so much guys, it’s been a pleasure.

DK: Thank you, and thank you for everyone who’ve watched the show and thank you for everyone who’ve read the novel, and we can’t wait to hear your feedback!

[“The Gates of Paradise” fades out]

#the terror #the terror amc #dave kajganich #soo hugh #dan simmons #adam nagaitis #the minds behind the terror #personal #aaah the last one! we're finished!#as always lmk if you catch any mistakes and google docs link will be in the reblogs #this has been a great project and i hope this was helpful for you guys!#<3

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nlights37 · 3 years

Text

20 Questions: Writer Edition

Many many thanks to @hot-auntie-dany and my baby @magalidragon for the tag, here we gooooo....

(All fics mentioned below can be found on my AO3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NorthernLights37/works)

How many works do you have on AO3?

33 as of today

What’s your total AO3 word count?

1,003,539, not including Adrift and a few other orphaned fics I have floating around. You are welcome, whores (or, conversely, my apologies for inflicting these fics upon this fandom, over a million words of garbage, depending on your fic tastes hahaha)

How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

A few over the years - none as extensively as GOT, but I wrote some back in the day for Buffy.

What are your top five fics by kudos?

Cerulean Blue

Something Stupid

Beautiful Creatures

Fixer-Upper

Beautiful Creatures: Legends (Pt. 2)

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

Sometimes. Sometimes I don’t. Usually it’s procrastination or I really am busy with IRL stuff. LOL Sometimes I just savor them and don’t respond to them all then I feel guilty and then I’m like ‘okay bitch you wrote the fic you don’t have to write another one in the comments just enjoy the kind words’. Other times I’m like ‘JFC asshole answer your comments’. It’s a mixed bag.

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

I haven’t. I just give light dustings of angst. Angst does not exist in my endings lol.

What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

Hahahah all of them bitch all of them even when they die it’s a happy ending. That doesn’t mean the characters get some perfect ending, but it’s a happy one. I think people conflate the two sometimes, because you can absolutely have a happy ending without it being ‘perfect’.

Do you write crossovers? If yes, what’s the craziest thing you’ve written?

No - I don’t usually read them, either.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Occasionally. Fuck ‘em. I write this shit because there’s a story stuck in my head and I gotta get it out so I can read it. If someone doesn’t like it, so what? Cry out into the internet void about it, sweetie, but no one cares. Still gonna write my fics.

Do you write smut? If so what kind?

The better question is can I write a fic without smut? The answer is yes but only a few. I’m here for the fucking. Like, yes, A-plot but I’m trying to see my OTP getting sweaty and talking dirty and blowing out each other’s backs, please and thank you.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

No one’s ever taken one of my fics and replaced the names and shit and posted it, if that’s what you mean. This is fanfiction, we’re all stealing the original ideas and characters in the first place and toying with them. But never had a fic stolen, never stolen a fic. Not my thing.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes, the lovely winterandmistletoe translated Ghost is a Good Boy to Russian a few years back, which I thought was pretty dope.

Have you ever co-written a fic?

I have - one complete and one in-progress with @magali_dragon

What’s your all time favourite ship?

I’ve had a lot over the years (aka I am old). It wasn’t called shipping way back then in the early to mid-90’s but I shipped the hell out of Clois, BatCat, Buffy/Angel, Jim/Pam, Sydney/Vaughn (Does anyone even remember Alias anymore lol), and of course Jonerys. All-time favorite is probably Clois just because, you know, haven’t had to watch big soft boi Clark kill Lois onscreen or anything, but Jonerys is still my doomed baby pairing deep down.

What’s a WIP you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

I honestly don’t know. I have quite a few for GOT that I’ll eventually finish but I’m kinda on a fandom break from Jonerys while I re-obsess over someone of my long-forgotten ships (namely Clois and BatCat).

What’s your writing strengths?

Banter, baby, I got jokes for days. For weeks. Months would be pushing it but I’m 40 and tired.

What’s your writing weaknesses?

Lack of planning and always underestimating the amount of free time I’ll have to work on fic. Every goddamn time.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in fic?

I think it’s great but I won’t be inflicting my three years of high school Spanish on anyone anytime soon unless you want a fic where everyone is asking about the locations of the bathroom and the market.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Buffy, a very very very long time ago.

What’s your favourite fic you’ve written?

Hmmmm. It’s kinda like choosing between my kids, I guess! I like them all for different reasons, but at the end of the day, it’s probably Art of Deduction (in my current mood, anyway, lol). That fic was a stray shower thought that just wouldn’t go away, and you never know if there’s really gonna be enough meat on the bone when you go to write it, but I was really happy with how it turned out.

#writer ask game #jonerys #jon x daenerys #fanfic #my fics

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hunflowers · 4 years

Text

Lake George

A/N: This is a little extra for my fic Skating Lessons! And she’s part of @helladirections’s Summer Feeling Challenge! So, I’m doing the boat ride challenge and i’d say she’s hella cute :D enjoy! *nose boops*

Going on a vacation together is a big step in a relationship.

At least in Harry’s mind it is, considering this was going to be the first time Y/N was going to join him and Abby for the annual Lake George trip.

End of June, early July, Harry, Abby, Harry’s mum and sister, and a few of Harry’s friends go on a week long getaway to Lake George in upstate New York. Of course this year Y/N would be tagging along because she’s Harry’s girlfriend.

And Harry is fucking nervous.

Y/N hasn’t met any of his friends really and he’s worried how she’ll think of them. Because he knows his friends take a little getting used to, to actually enjoy their company. But, she was insistent — if he was okay with it — she join, so she can feel like less of an outsider in his life.

Plus, Abby really wanted her there. And once Abby wants something, it’s hard for Harry to say no. His daughter is just too adorable and too innocent to deny her anything. Which, can be bad, but he doesn’t really have to worry about Abby turning out spoiled or anything because even as a five year old, she’s pretty humble.

She was insistent, saying she wanted Y/N to join so there’s more girls, and so she could be around someone she actually enjoyed. Though Nana and Aunt Gemma were a close second.

Harry was quick to make Y/N feel not pressured to go no matter how much Abby begged, because he knew she wanted to take things at her own pace. Y/N didn’t meet his mum or sister until four months after they made it official and was quite intimidated about the idea of assimilating into his social life.

Y/N never liked to think of herself as a shy person, and she’s slowly -- ever since Harry has been in her life -- becoming more open to people instead of closing herself off like she used to. “Do y’think they’re gonna like me?” was her main concern the entire plane ride over to New York, and then in the train to the lake, and then when they checked into their hotel.

“Baby, ask me one more time and m’gonna throw you in that lake,” Harry jerked his head to the window that overlooked the vast lake, a warning tone with a hint of humor etched across his face.

Y/N rolled her eyes, smacking him in the shoulder, 1) because he knew her lack of swimming skills and 2) because he hasn’t really provided her with an answer to ease her social anxiety. “Jerk, I’m just nervous.” She looked to Abby in her arms, rocking the little girl a little as she snoozed on her shoulder.

Harry set down their bags on the floor by the bed, before walking over to the extra cot and opening it up for Abby to sleep on. When it was finally set up, Harry walked over to his lovely girls, taking his daughter from Y/N’s arms and gently laying her down on the makeshift bed. He kissed her forehead after tucking her in before walking back over to his girlfriend who opened her suitcase to pull out her own pajamas to sleep in.

By the time they got to the lake it was about ten o’clock, plus jetlag was seeping through their systems and they couldn’t wait to knock out before their busy week ahead of them.

Harry wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder as she stood upright against his chest, sighing into the feeling of him pressed against her, her eyes shutting slightly as the exhaustion took over her body.

Into her ear, he mumbles, “They’re gonna love you. I’m worried if y’g’na love ‘em.”

“If they make you happy, m’sure I will,” she hummed back, turning her head slightly so she could plant a soft kiss to his cheek. At the contact, Harry turned his head so they were face to face, just so he could secure a kiss on the lips.

“C’mon let’s get to bed,” he patted her bottom, leaving one last kiss to her shoulder.

❊ ❊

Y/N never should’ve agreed to coming.

Or, never should’ve agreed to getting on the boat for a little ‘fun.’

She was perfectly tanning on the little beach, reading a new book she brought with her until Harry and co. get back from their little adventure. It was going to be a perfect bonding time for her and Anne and Gemma, but no, nothing was ever that easy.

Abby and her sweet little face could convince the most stubborn of people to do anything, and that’s the only reason she agreed to leaving the safe space that is land. Did Harry in his tiny, white swim shorts have any influence? Hardly. Though, she found it difficult to look away from. Especially when they boarded the floating trap and he removed his t-shirt.

But, Y/N was so beyond nervous of falling overboard and drowning, even in the life jacket that Harry secured to her body. She hardly let her eyes wander out to the water surrounding them, getting nauseous at the sight of the vast lake and thought of all bad things that could happen.

She wasn’t even nervous about his friends anymore. They all get along pretty well, which is amazing. And that leaves more room for her to be anxious about the boat ride.

Harry sat by her side the majority of the time, except for when it was his turn to take a ride out on the water for a little wake-boarding. Surprising to Y/N, he managed to stay balanced and pull off a few tricks here and there, except for when he completely wiped out by the end of his turn. Her initial instinct was to fear for his life when he dropped down in the water, a loud gasp escaping her throat as he sunk away from her line of vision. But, when his head popped back out of the blue and a smile was adorning his face, she felt just a little bit better.

When he came back onto the boat and sat back next to her, Y/N couldn’t help but pull him into her arms, and mutter “Had me worried for a second,” into his ear, causing him to squeeze her in return. Of course after ogling his wet skin and how tight his tiny, white shorts clung to his thighs.

“Can’t get rid of me that easily, darling.” And then he smooshed her cheeks which puckered her lips, and kissed her briefly. “D’ya wanna go for a ride?”

Y/N let out a loud laugh at this, “Thanks, but I’ll pass.”

“How about tubing?” He pointed as one large raft was being set up now at the back of the boat. “All you gotta do is sit, and hope for the best.”

Y/N looked at him with a deadpan expression, blinking a couple of times. “You want to torture me don’t you?”

“Come on with me! If we wipe out, we do it as a team. Y’know, because we’re a team,” he smiled cheekily, batting his eyelashes the best he could at her. It isn’t hard to determine where Abby learned that from.

Everyone started to gang up on Y/N, telling her just how fun it’ll be, saying she’s wearing a life jacket and has no reason to fear. And Harry will always save her if anything goes wrong.

It’ll be fun, they said.

You won’t regret it, they said.

But, when her and Harry flipped over on a particularly rough turn, she did in fact, regret it. And it wasn’t fun.

She’ll admit that the moment her body collapsed onto the water, and her life vest kept her afloat, she wasn’t as terrified as she thought she’d be. That doesn’t make her any less right that she was perfectly fine with staying on the boat and watching everyone else enjoy the little adventure.

When Harry popped back up out of the water, he was laughing his head off, pushing his floppy hair off of his forehead. Y/N splashed him, flipping him off as he continued laughing, waiting for the boat to come back around to pick them up.

“See, y’survived, baby. Knew you would,” he grinned, earning another splash from her as he swam over to her.

Abby was a giggling mess when she saw the state of Y/N and Harry, pointing her finger at the two of them as she recounted the events from her own perspective. There were a lot of hand gestures involved in between laughs, and in return, Harry jokingly picked up his daughter and held her over the water upside down.

This just made Abby squeal and laugh harder, no ounce of fear of being dropped anywhere in sight.

Y/N was envious, because Abby wasn’t even wearing a life jacket of her own and she seemed to be completely fine with dropping into the water -- not that Harry actually would.

After all of the more adventurous of the festivities, they all relaxed with the last couple of hours of rented boat time. And though Y/N shouldn’t exactly be drinking while out on the water, to submerge this underlying fear of hers, she needed to drink to forget about it.

And, well, she did feel a little more relaxed after she got a bit of vodka in her system.

“So, Y/N, is H treatin’ ya well?” Niall, one of Harry’s friends asked, finishing off what seemed to be his third beer in an hour. It was impressive, and how he doesn’t even slightly fazed by the alcohol is even more impressive.

Taking a sip of her own drink, she nodded her head. “Very well. Nicest person I’ve ever met, honestly.”

“I know Abs is crazy ‘bout you. When Harry was first telling me about you, t’first thing he mentioned was how Abby was absolutely in awe of you. That’s the deal breaker for him, his daughter,” he gestured in the direction of where Harry and Abby had ventured off to.

They were both in the water, Abby on his back as he swam around. Harry sometimes ducked on the water, taking Abby with him, both of them popping back up and laughing as she tightened her hold on him. The sight of them two always warmed Y/N’s heart, and each time she saw their bond, it made her determined to stay in their lives for however long they’ll have her.

She loves watching them together and seeing how happy they are when they’re together. They’re best friends and Y/N can’t imagine either of them ruining the pure relationship they have together. And the love they radiate between each other is one that is unmatched, and Y/N wishes she loved someone like they loved each other.

Then it dawns on her.

“Niall, I think I’m in love with Harry.”

At the L-bomb, Niall couldn’t help but spit out the beer that was about to travel down his throat all over the deck of the boat, coating the area in front of him in the sticky substance. His eyes widened as his mouth dropped open into a wide smile, “Holy shit.”

❊ ❊

“Nana, you gotta come with us t’mo’row! It was so much fun!” Abby squealed as she was lifted off the ground, one hand in Anne’s and one in Harry’s as they swung her between the two of them.

Y/N trailed behind them, watching the three of them interact in a loving manner. Ever since her little epiphany from earlier, she hasn’t really spoken to Harry, and not in a bad way, but in a I don’t know how to cope with myself right now kind of silence.

They’ve been together a total of eight months, and the L-word hadn’t ever really crossed over Y/N’s mind. She supposes it’s because she still has this underlying fear that he’ll up and leave her because he’s so far out of her league, but as days pass on and she gets to know this man more and more each day, she can’t imagine herself never wanting to be apart of his life anymore.

Seeing him with Abby makes her yearn for a life like that with him, with kids of their own, married, bound to grow old together. And to get to that point, she has to admit to him and herself, that she really loves him.

Like, loves love him.

Harry noticed her silence about an hour ago after they docked the boat and went to dinner. He was confused as to why she had grown silent and he worried she was mad at him for pushing her to go tubing with him, but he also knows her well enough that, that isn’t something she could stay mad at. He also knows her well enough to know not to push her in a public setting, and that she’ll talk when she’s ready.

That’s why he suggests Abby stays with his mum and sister for the night so they could watch a movie or two together and catch up a bit since it’d been a little while since they spent a decent amount of time together. Though, Anne and Gemma knew he just wanted some alone time with Y/N because they also noticed her quiet attitude compared to the start of the day.

When they all departed, and Y/N and Harry headed to their room, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close and kissing the top of her head -- his signature move to console her. “You okay?”

Y/N looked up to him, and nodded her head. “M’fine. Just had some things on my mind.”

“Like what?” He hummed, inserting the key to their room and waiting for the little green light on the handle before pushing open the door.

“Just... things,” she shrugged, mentally slapping herself in the face. She hated how nervous this newfound thought has made her, and she feels like she’s been thrown back to step one when it comes to being open around Harry.

He rose one eyebrow in response, “Uh, right. Do y’want to shower first?” He changed the subject, throwing his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the ensuite bathroom.

“No, no, you can go first,” she waved him off, kicking off her sandals and gathering her disgusting hair into a ponytail to get it out of her face.

Harry opened his mouth to say something else but he quickly shut it, deciding this was a conversation that needed to be had when he felt less sticky. Though, he zoomed as fast as he could in the shower because the anxious gut feeling over what’s wrong was eating him alive.

When he came out of the bathroom in just his towel, he ruffled the ends of his hair quickly before pushing them up and out of his face. He was quick to notice Y/N was looking at her phone, a small smile complementing her face as she looked at whatever was on it. And his curiosity got the best of him as he wondered, “What’re you smiling at?”

Y/N looked up from her phone, the smile still nestled into her skin as she showed him the contents of her happiness. “I forgot I took these before.”

They were photos of him from the boat, a captain’s hat on his head that he had found in a little compartment under one of the benches. They were some of her newfound favorite photos of him.

Which only further solidified her love for this man.

That guy in the photos is her boyfriend, and the man she loves,

It’s crazy.

“Hey, I look pretty good,” he grins, flicking his nonexistent long hair over his shoulder.

Y/N hums back, bringing the phone back around to her eyesight, still staring at the photos she took. She also got a few of Abby that are absolutely precious. And all she wishes is that she gets to stay in this girls life for the rest of her life.

“Y/N,” Harry called, knocking her out of her lovestruck trance, making her snap her eyes to him as he sat on the edge of the bed, looking at her a little worrisome. “Are y’sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine, H. Honest.”

He gave her a pointed look at that, basically saying c’mon I know you better than that. “Was it m’friends? I know they can be a little... much, tha’s what I’ve been trying to warn you about.”

“No! No, I loved them, they were really great,” she spoke quickly, getting up from the armchair she was on, and standing in front of him.

“Is it because I pushed you into going on the boat today?”

“No--”

“I know I shouldn’t have, I’m really sorry--”

“Harry!” Y/N finally snapped, bringing her hands up to his cheeks and smooshing them together so he could stop talking for just one second.

“I’m in love with you.”

Silence loomed over them as Harry’s jaw fell slack and his eyebrows scrunched together. Y/N smiled down at him sheepishly, her hands moving down to his shoulders, tears swelling in her eyes as she really took in what she just said to him. She felt like a weight had been lifted off of her shoulders, her mind finally relaxing and taking its own deep breath as the truth was finally set free.

It felt like an eternity as they kept staring at one another, but Y/N didn’t mind. She could spend forever looking at him and never once would she get bored.

Her left hand came up to caress the underside of his jaw, her thumb grazing over the bit of stubble that sat on his face. To break the silence, she said it again, “I love you.”

“You love me?” He finally breathed, hands coming up to her hips and pulling her down to straddle his lap.

Y/N brought her arms up to wrap around his shoulders, a bigger smile than before worming its way up her face. “So much.”

“Holy shit,” and then he kissed her. He pulled her face quick against his, locking their lips in a passionate embrace fueled by love.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear you say that,” he broke them apart, cupping her face in his hands as he kisses her cheeks, her nose, then her forehead.

“I fucking love you, Y/N.”

And then the tears swelled in her eyes again at his confession. She sat back just a little bit as her eyes bounced back and forth between his, now letting his truth dawn on her.

Before she could say anything else, he continued, “I’ve loved you for a while now. But, I wanted you to say it first. I knew if I did, you would’ve spiraled into a sea of darkness in that mind of yours. Needed you to say it first, needed you to do it without any pressure of saying it back.”

Fuck, she loves him so much.

And now the tears cascaded down her cheeks as she pulled him back to her in a heated kiss. They fell back against the mattress, Harry’s hands firm on her hips as they rocked back and forth with one another.

It was refreshing stepping into a new part of their relationship that has yet to be explored. It excited them both; To be able to love each other with no fears getting in the way. They were developing and evolving together and fuck, they love each other.

“I really wanna have sex,” Y/N muttered against his lips, pecking his soft lips once more. “But I really need to shower first.”

“V’got a solution,” he smiled, quickly sitting up and standing up with her legs wrapped around his hips. It was clear to say he was heading to the bathroom again, his intentions straightforward — and Y/N’s heart and lower region throbbed at the thought.

“M’gonna need another shower after we’re done anyway.”

#lmk what you thought!!!! :D #harry styles blurb #harry styles soft #harry styles one shot #harry styles au #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles writing #harry styles

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havethetimeofyourstyles · 4 years

Text

Chapter One. Welcome to Sweetland

the scene is set in 1956, a young man moved to Hollywood to follow his dreams of becoming an actor. But with little money and a struggle to keep his apartment, he is approached by a man who offers him a job at Sweetland

a/n: THE FIRST CHAPTER IS FINALLY HERE! this story is loosely based on the Netflix series ‘Hollywood’. just the general concept of it and ofc adding my own twist to it. I hope you enjoy this as much as I loved writing it! happy reading <3

SERIES MASTERLIST | JOIN THE TAGLIST | chapter word count: 8.3k

LETS TALK ABOUT CN! share all of your thoughts, questions, and comments!

please rb to share <3

The familiar click of his boots onto the tiled shiny floor is what Harry looked forward to all the time.

He found motivation as he walked down the hall as he passed by locals pacing back and forth with their fingernails in their mouths or sitting on chairs against the wall as they nervously chatted with one another. Some of the girls glanced at him seductively as he walked, making his confidence shoot up a bit. Harry took each and every single one of them in; telling himself to not let their anxiousness get the better of him because he was better than them, he was more good looking than them, and he was a better actor than them. At least that’s what his self affirmations tell himself every morning.

The bright light shining from above him as he takes each step made him feel like a spotlight. He put on his best game face and walked confidently as he wore a white crisp button down shirt with a yellow polka vest, blue flared jeans, and red boots. It was his lucky outfit and one of his favorites. It was a stuffy outfit for the hot weather in Hollywood, but he needed to look dashing. Plus they were all a steal in the clearance section!

“Harry! Over here!” He saw Mikey waving over at him at the end of the hall. Harry waved back at him as he hurriedly walked towards him.

“Hey, Mikey. How is it in there?” He asked as they tried peeking into the room everyone has been waiting to have a chance to get into.

“Man, it’s crazy. Everyone in there is so intimidating!” Mikey shook his head as he looked up at Harry. He was a tad bit shorter than Harry, but he was humorous and the camera always loved a funny person.

Harry and Mikey met in front of the gates at Paramount Studios almost a year ago. They were both standing right next to each other amongst the hundreds of people waving their hands up in the air as they tried to get the attention of the casting directors. But in the midst of it all the chaos, Harry had accidentally elbowed Mikey’s head, which caused him to get infuriated and led them to a fight.

“Think you can go fucking around elbowing people, huh?” Failed punches were being thrown at one another as they tackled each other to the ground; a crowd had circled around him. Despite Mikey’s height, he was underestimated. He was feisty, tough and can pretty much handle anyone.

But that fight had been broken up by security, and somehow and some way, the casting directors found that entertaining and picked the both of them to be an extra. They were both ecstatic, not knowing a so-called fist fight would lead them to being an extra on set. Of course, it was hard to work with one another after the fight they had caused. But after throwing looks at one another, they figured it was best to get along and work together.

And they found out they had many things in common and respected each other’s dislikes. Since then, they’ve been by each other’s side.

“I’m sure you did great. Don’t sweat it,” Harry patted Mikey’s shoulder, reassuring him from his audition.

“Oh, oh! They’re coming! Get ready!”

Two older women walked out of the doors of the room that was frightening but exhilarating all at once. Everyone rushed to the entrance of the door, putting on their best smiles and mystery looks as the two women looked around to find their perfect face. Harry stood still, not putting on his best look as a way to tell them he was trying too hard.

“Alright, here’s how this is going to work,” one of the women screamed out to the eager crowd. She was tough as she wore an all black dress that stopped below her knees and 2 inch heels. Her expression was stern, giving everyone a hard look as they listened to her. “I’m going to choose two of you to walk inside with us and you will be given a chance to audition. We want to see the best actors and actresses to give us the performance of a lifetime.”

“Everyone ready?” The other woman in purple said and everyone nodded their heads. “Please get into two lines on both sides of the wall.” The crowd did so. Harry being the first one in the line since Mikey saved him a spot. Nervous was an understatement for Harry. He wanted to be chosen and this can finally be the start of the career he’s been dreaming of.

The two women glanced at everyone as they walked between the lines, looking at everyone’s smiles and anxious looks. Everyone’s heads turned as they walked passed by them, frowns present on their faces as they didn’t get chosen.

After a few minutes, Harry heard their heels clicking onto the floor as they were walking back. He turned his head and saw a girl walking behind them as she beamed in excitement. A small frown was placed on his face, feeling as his hopes have been crushed.

Suddenly, he felt their presence stop walking and stopped in front of him. His head immediately was brought back up to look at them, frown was replaced by a small smile.

“You’re good looking,” the lady in black said with no emotion. Her stare was intimidating, making Harry stutter.

“T-Thank you,” he cleared his throat. “Thank you,” he said again more clearly.

“Can you smile for me?” She asked. Harry gave her his best smile. The one that wasn’t too bright nor the one that wasn’t too small. But he gave his charming smile, making his dimples pop out. She looked at him for a few seconds as she stared into his eyes before she said, “Okay, come with me.” And she walked off into the room followed by the other director and the girl that they picked.

Harry couldn’t believe that they actually picked him. He turned towards Mikey and he was smiling so big, giving him a big thumbs up and a pat on his shoulder.

“Go get ‘em kid!” He lightly pushed him towards the door as Harry felt his feet were stuck to the ground from the shock.

Entering the room, he was met by the eyes of three other producers sitting at a long table. They had their coffees in front of them and a notepad with a pen, looking through a list of actors and actresses they’ve come across.

“Okay, just wait here as we prepare. Names?” the lady in purple positioned Harry and the other girl in the center of the room in front of the table of people that would dictate his future as she got their names before walking back to the table.

The room was freezing and Harry shook as he got shivers down his spine.

“Nervous?” The girl said next to him.

“Yeah, a bit. You?”

“Eh, I’m doing okay. Not my first audition,” she said in a bragging tone, and Harry just simply nodded. She was a small petite girl with long hair as she wore a pink pleated skirt with a pink striped top. Her hair was short as it curled up towards the end of it, giving her a more girly and preppy look. “I’m Brandy,” she introduced herself.

“Harry.” They softly and quickly shook hands.

“Say, Harry, how about we have a little fun after this audition?” Harry looked down at her and she gave him a brow raise with a teasing smirk.

“Uh-” Harry hesitated and luckily, they were interrupted.

“Okay, you two. Since we planned on not doing any scripts for this audition, you’re going to need to improvise. Show us your true and natural talent. I’ll set the scene: you two are at a party and are about to break up. Okay? Ready? Action!” One of the producers told them hurriedly, giving them no time to take it all in.

Harry and Brandy turned towards each other, and Harry’s face was immediately met with the palm of Brandy’s hand, giving him a hard and loud slap to his cheek. Harry’s head whipped to the side, covering the sting with his hand.

“What the fuck?” Harry asked in shock.

“How dare you break up with me! You don’t get to break up with me,” Brandy’s eyes were immediately filled with tears, and Harry wondered how she was so quick to make herself cry like that.

“I-I’m sorry. But it’s not my fault I caught you fucking some other guy!” Harry retorted back. Brandy’s tears had fallen onto her face, and Harry’s face remained annoyed.

“Sweetheart, I’m sorry. It didn’t mean anything. I promise I won’t do it again,” she grabbed his hands as she pleaded.

“No,” Harry started softly, feeling sympathy for his co-partner. “This has to end. It’s for the best-”

“CUT!” One of the men screamed out, interrupting their scene.

“Great, great job guys. That’s all we need. Brandy, come see us. Harry, you’re free to go.”

Brandy squealed beside him, walking towards the table to possibly talk about a contract and a part in a film while Harry slowly walked back to the entrance that was now his exit, feeling completely gutted. He thought he did fairly well; if they had given them more time, he would’ve been able to continue on and show them what they’re really missing. But that was their decision, and Harry had no choice but to try again the next time.

As he exited the room, he was immediately met by Mikey waiting for him with a big and hopeful smile.

“Well? Got that contract you wanted?” He asked.

Harry shook his head in defeat. “Gonna try again the next time. Didn’t fully get to show my talent y’know?” He said as the two friends walked towards the exit of the building. Mikey put his arm around Harry’s body, hand resting on top of his shoulder.

“There will be plenty of more auditions to come. Don’t worry,” Mikey reassured his friend as they walked out the door to be met with the bright shining light of the California sun.

“S’alright. Gotta keep goin’,” Harry said, convincing himself not to give up as he places a cigarette between his lips and lighting it up.

“That’s the spirit! But listen, I gotta get going. The family needs me, but I’ll see you at the next audition! Be there!” Mikey bid him goodbye as he was walking away from him. Harry waved at him, watching his friend walk home to his family.

And Harry needed a drink.

He found himself at a bar close to his apartment. It was midday so no one was really at the bar except about four other people, chatting and playing pool. He was drinking whiskey, downing glass after glass, needing something stronger than a beer as he had a tough and long day.

“Long day, kid?” A man with a full head of grey hair and grey mustache asked. He was very attractive for an old man. Looked very classy and proper, probably had a good job because he just looked fucking rich; while Harry is struggling to find a stable job to pay off his bills.

Harry scoffed, “You have no idea.” He called for the bartender, getting his attention. “Can I get another one of these please?” The bartender sighed, shaking to himself while getting Harry another drink; his fifth one in just 10 minutes. Once the bartender set his drink down, Harry simply picked it up and threw it down his throat as if it was mouthwash.

“What’s got you like this?” The man asked curiously. Harry turned towards him, giving him a look up and down. He’s usually very polite with meeting new people and is usually shy, but with the alcohol in his system on top of the horrible day he had, it was like he was a different person. He’s usually the soft and cuddly type when he’s buzzed or drunk, but again, he just had a bad day.

“Ya wanna know?” He didn’t wait for the man’s answer, but he nodded anyway. “Well, for starters, got a fuckin’ audition earlier because y’know, that’s what I do. I’m an actor. Anyways, I do the audition that they picked me out of, like, 50 people, and this girl who bragged about having plenty of auditions. And when we start, not even 5 minutes as we start actin’, they stop us! Thought they were lovin’ what we were doin’ that’s why they stopped us, but she told that Brandy girl to meet them after and dismissed me, like for fuck sakes!” Harry was seething as he was telling the story, and practically everyone was listening in since he was talking so loudly.

“Sorry about that, kid. But that’s what you do huh? You act?” The man asked, placing his cigar in his mouth.

“Yeah. Tryin’ to make a fuckin’ living and I’ve been struggling keeping my apartment,” he rolled his eyes, trying to remember the next due date was for his rent and electricity bill.

“It’s a tough world out there. But hey, what do you say you work for me?” The man offered and Harry’s brows furrowed.

“Don’t even know your name.”

“Well if you must know, like you didn’t just tell me your whole life story, I’m Daren,” he offered a hand to shake, and Harry takes it.

“Harry. So what exactly do you do?” Harry wondered.

“I work for a candy store,” he simply stated.

“A candy store…” Harry repeated and Daren nodded. “What the fuck am I gonna do at a candy store?”

“Simple. It’s like a self-serve candy store, but my workers serve them instead. Just grab a bag and they tell you what they want, and you get it. Simple as that,” he explained. “You’re an attractive man! Got the face and everything, and considering you’re tall, bet you’re packing down there too,” Daren said nonchalantly.

“Are you offering me a job or you’re gonna compliment my cock?” He wondered why the sudden mention of his cock came to play, but brushed it off. Harry hadn’t realized that he would be working at a candy store when he moved to Hollywood. He had big dreams, and he wanted to follow his dreams by getting as many auditions as he can and be in front of the camera, not work in candyland.

“Both. Just think about it. You’d be making a lot of money working there—hell of a lot more than minimum wage. And I’m talking about starting at $30 for an entire day. You can’t pass that deal up! And you just said it yourself that you can’t afford to keep your apartment. I mean, let’s face it. When are you going to get another audition? You’ve already gotten rejected from the one today!” Harry was breathing out of his nose, practically huffing at him as Daren mentioned the rejection. He knew that what Daren said was right, but Harry was hard headed and didn’t want to believe him.

“Sorry, mate,” he stood from his chair, grabbing his wallet from his back pocket as he set out a $10 bill on the counter. “Thank, but no thanks,” he told Daren, pride getting in the way.

“Well, my offer is still on the table. I’m located on Sunset, so you know where to find me once you get what I said through your ass,” he said louder than usual as Harry was walking away with no look back, exiting the bar and walking home.

When he reached the front of his door, he was met by paper taped to it that read ‘LATE RENT SECOND NOTICE’. Harry sighed, ripping the paper off the door before unlocking it and heading inside. He briskly threw the notice on the table and he sat down on his couch, rolling out his neck and closed his eyes for a moment. His shoulder and neck felt tight—his overall body felt tense, like he couldn’t relax for a tad bit.

He was stressed. The dream of becoming an actor was made when he was a teenager. From auditioning for one of his school plays in comprehensive school and getting the lead role, he felt the rush of being on stage when he was only sixteen. From then on, he wanted to take that dream to the next step, and he was talking about being on camera, on billboard, stepping on stage when he wins and collecting his Oscar. Harry reaches for big dreams, and he was determined to make his dreams come true.

In his state of pondering about lifelong dreams of making it in the industry, the electricity had gone out. It was like he was so in his head about becoming a famous actor that he felt like he was in the clouds and nothing was limiting him, but the harsh reality of his source of light going out had brought him back to the ground.

A groan from Harry’s mouth was heard between the walls of his tiny apartment, frustrated that he can’t seem to find money just to save him from getting evicted from his home. He took a deep breath as his body was stretched across the couch, hands on his face as he debated what to do.

He thought about getting more auditions, which he will eventually try for because again, that was his lifelong dream, but how many auditions did he have to do for anyone to see him other than a pretty face. Let’s face it, Harry knew he was attractive and having a nice face helped him get auditions, although he’s only had two in his lifetime. But he wanted to be seen more than that. He wanted to be seen for his talent, his ability to act, and being the person the camera loves.

Harry then thought about the offer Daren from the bar made him. It was quite random how someone badly wanted him to work for some candy shop when there are so many people who are looking for a side job. Of course he didn’t want to work there, but he did remember Daren saying that he was willing to pay a lot. But who in the world has that kind of money to pay $30 for working at a simple candy store?

Hell if Harry knew, but he knew that he needed to make some sacrifices.

You were sat in the beige booth across from your two friends, waiting on your food as Alice was reapplying her lip gloss and Frances was talking to you nonstop about a boy she had met from class.

It was your usual Friday afternoon as the three of you met up at Mel’s Drive In to have weekly breakfast for lunches. It was a ritual ever since you were in high school.

Having met them your freshman year of high school when you three were in the same dance class, you girls were inseparable. You’ve been through breakups, crushes, and gossip with them; and they were like your sisters. Sisters who talk about anything and everything with no limits or shame.

And now you three were dance teachers at the academy school you all danced at. It honestly worked very well; when a dancer hits eighteen, they graduate and that’s their farewell from growing up and continuously dancing at the studio. A year before you three graduated from college, your ballet instructor, Sally, had told you three that her and the rest of the staff always loved your techniques and stability. And you were all very excited for the journey.

“I swear to god, I was gonna jump him right then and there,” Frances said waving her hand as if she was fanning herself.

“Wait, he did what now?” Alice asked, pausing from putting on her lip gloss. She did it all the time, but you had no idea as to why she was doing that when you were about to eat. But Alice is Alice.

“If you can take one second not eating your lip gloss, then you would have heard me,” Frances turned to her right to face Alice, a frustrated look on her face. It was the same old annoyed look Frances gave Alice and to others, it looked like she was about to start a fight, but to the three of you, it was just pure bickering and humorously messing with each other.

“Anyways, tell us more,” you said, reaching over to Frances, and she excitedly turned back towards you, happy someone was paying attention.

“He just kept flirting with me! Kept saying I looked so pretty and said he wanted to take me out, which I think he’s gonna ask me out the next time I see him because he kept hinting at it, and I’m just so excited! Although I wasn’t sure if I wanted to date another dancer, let alone a coworker, but I don’t care anymore!” She squealed in excitement, and told her how happy you were for her.

“What about you?” Alice asked suddenly.

“What about me?” You asked back, leaning back on the leather cushion. Before Alice was about to answer, their food had arrived and was placed in front of you,

“Any guys or girls you’ve been into lately?” You thought about it, and shook your head truthfully as you dug into your pancakes. “C’mon! There isn’t anyone at all?” You shook your head again, taking a bite. “Not even that Tyler guy?” You rolled your eyes, waiting to swallow your bite before you answered.

“No, no, and no. I don’t know. It’s hard for me to get out there y’know?” You slightly frowned, realizing that you had been missing the affection and attention you wanted.

“Oh, whatever! You’re just saying because you’re too shy and proper to say that you haven’t been fucked in forever,” Frances said too loudly for your liking. You looked around your table to see if anyone had any lingering eyes on the three of you, but everyone seemed to be only paying attention to their business. “Face it, the last time you’ve been touched was Chris—and hell if he did the job.”

“And we know you can get out there. You’re pretty, smart, funny, and you’re a rich bitch! So many guys go after you in the passing!” Alice added.

“Yeah, only cause they want to get to my dad, remember?” You raised your eyebrows at them, and they went silent for a bit, remembering that ordeal.

“Well, those fuckers don’t know what they’re missing,” Frances said back.

“Since when have you used such language?” You faked a dramatic gasp, teasing her as she laughed and rolled her eyes.

“Please, ever since you told us about your kinkful night of sex that one time our freshman year of college, knew you weren’t an angel yourself,” Frances smirked, and a gasp was heard from Alice.

“Oh god, I remember that! It was with that junior Lance Mills! I want to hear that story over again. It was like listening to a sex film.” Alice put her hands under her chin as they both eagerly waited for you to tell the story again.

“Maybe next time. Y’know when we’re alone and I’m not about to devour this pancake,” you promised and they nodded excitedly.

The three of you ate your food as Johnny Cash was playing from the jukebox. You and Frances were minding your own businesses, thinking the subject prior was far gone and over with until Alice spoke up again.

“Y’know…I know something that’ll help you with the whole…” she started waving her hand around you like she was casting a spell, and you were utterly confused.

Your brows furrowed, “With what?”

“Your whole dry spell of not being able to get some,” her brows raised, and your mouth slightly opened.

“I am not on a dry spell!” You exclaimed, crossing your arms once you were finished with your pancakes, but felt satisfied, knowing Mel’s pancakes were the best you’ve ever had.

“Please. It’s been what? A year since you’ve had sex? Unacceptable.” You rolled your eyes at Frances’ statement. “You have everything you want except a good orgasm. Can you believe that?” She turned her head towards Alice in disbelief; the two of them shaking their heads.

“Ugh! I don’t need to have sex to complete my life! I am perfectly fine with pleasing myself and not having someone do it for me, and I am perfectly fine with not having sex… at the moment,” you added the last part in case the universe had some weird way of working, making your dry spell even longer. Frances and Alice laughed, knowing you all too well that you loved having sex and someone to hook up with.

It was like you were contradicting yourself in your head--thinking you were okay with yourself, but wanting someone else. But you honestly were fine with doing the job yourself--you didn’t mind that at the very least, but it is always nice to have someone to do it for you. What you were thinking was: yes, you could do it and reach an orgasm yourself, but you didn’t need someone to do it for you. If someone comes your way and helps you out, great. If someone doesn’t, also great, you’d do it yourself.

“Anyways, as I was saying,” Alice spoke up. “One of the girls was talking about some shop that always has hot guys working there and they’re always hiring hot guys.”

Frances turned her body towards her, “Ooh, tell me more.”

“You are about to get asked out by some other guy. Don’t be greedy, this is for her!” You chuckled at them as they fought like a married couple. “Well, she was saying how she met this one guy there and they fucked in her car! She would not stop talking about orgasm after orgasm! And she also said all the other workers there are hot too, so you can go down there and check it out for yourself,” Alice explained. “You can just do it once too--get all that stress out of your system.”

You thought about how long your dry spell has been going for. It hasn’t been too long that you were deprived from having good sex, and you would love to look at handsome men even if that means you wouldn’t get any since you were tired of looking at the boys in your class as you thought none of them were really all that attractive to you. So, you nodded in agreement and Alice perked up.

“Where is this shop at?” You asked curiously.

“It’s a candy shop on sunset. But you need a code to get in.”

You confusingly asked, “A code? Why would you need a code?”

“Don’t know. Probably for some identity reason. But they also serve celebrities as well, so that could possibly be a reason,” Alice said.

“Okay…What’s the code?” You asked slowly.

Frances squealed, “You’re really gonna do this?” You shrugged your shoulders but nodded your head.

“So, the code?” You asked Alice again to see her and Frances smirking at one another. Probably because you agreed to doing this and admitting that you wanted to get laid.

“Cloud nine.”

Harry found himself in front of ‘Sweetland’ at 12 in the afternoon on Sunday.

After much debate, he realized he really needed the money when he was in the midst of a shower and the water had turned off. Just as he got soap in his eyes, he figured he would put his pride aside and take up on Daren’s offer. Because what could be so bad working at a candy store? People have to start somewhere in their life in order to make it.

He had a night’s long of pondering, telling himself that an audition is not just going to pop up out of nowhere, but he couldn’t lose hope just yet. And besides, he probably wouldn’t even get paid that much if he wasn’t under a contract with a big agency. So the candy shop would have to do it for now.

Walking through the door, he was met with a few pairs of eyes from men who perked up thinking he was a customer, but quickly put their heads down.

“Ah, so I see you decided to work for me,” Daren said as he noticed Harry at the entrance of the shop, a smirk placed on his face.

“Yeah. Just really need the money,” Harry replied honestly.

“Well, welcome to your first day, boy! Here is your uniform, restrooms are over there,” Daren handed Harry clothes and slightly pushed towards the restroom to get changed.

Once he finished changing and got out of the restroom, he noticed he was matching with the other workers; wearing a blue sparkly blouse with a pussybow and white trousers. He had to admit that he loved the outfit, but wished everyone had different outfits so he could stand out.

“Everyone! This is Harry. He will be joining our team and will be along with this journey of ours.” He noticed Daren smirk as he introduced him to everyone with a hand on his shoulder. There were about five other guys working at the shop that day, and everyone waved, greeting him.

Everyone working were guys and Harry noticed how good looking everyone was, and there were no women working at all, which confused him at the very least.

“Alright, so your job is to basically serve customers. Easy as that. You’ll just grab a bag,” Daren does so as he speaks, “and whatever you want, just fill it up to however they desire. Simple.” Harry didn’t miss his sexual innuendo, even if it was innocent as candy, but he chuckled, amusing Daren. “Got it?”

“Yeah. Seems pretty easy-”

“That’s the spirit! But first, I’m going to need you to stock some of the candy containers in the back,” Daren grabbed a couple of empty jars that were out on display, and Harry nodded as he followed Daren to the back where all the candy was stocked in large containers. “These have the labels on them, so just fill them with the right ones.”

“Alright,” Harry responded, and Daren pats his back before walking towards the exit. “Hey, Daren.” He stopped him before he was able to walk out. He turned around and Harry gave him a grateful smile. “Thanks. Y’know, for the job. I really mean it.”

Daren smiled back, “Don’t thank me yet, kid.” And with that, he walked out as Harry filled the empty containers with more candy.

After 30 minutes of filling jars and sweeping the floor, Daren called him to the front of the store. It was more busy than usual but enough for all the workers to be occupied.

“Ready for your first customer?” Harry perked up, and nodded his head eagerly as he was finally going to help a customer out and serve them. “There she is. Remember to smile, and if they say cloud nine, do as they say.”

“Wait, what’s cloud-”

“Go get ‘em.” With a slight push, Harry was lurched forward, walking towards the woman waiting by the door.

“Hello, how can I help you?” Harry asked with a shy smile on his face.

“Just a bag of candy, please,” the lady said as she looked around the store.

“Sure thing,” Harry grabbed a candy bag and followed her around the store as he waited for her to tell her what kind of candy she wanted.

“Can you put these in there?” She said, pointing to the container of gumballs and Harry grabbed the metal spoon, filling it before dropping it in the bag. “That’s all I want,” she said, and Harry ties the bag up.

“Okay. Anything else?” He asked.

“Yeah. Cloud nine?” Harry was utterly confused when she said the phrase; he didn’t know what to do at this point because Daren didn’t take the time to explain it to him.

The woman slapped a few quarters onto the counter before grabbing the bag of gumballs from Harry’s hands and walking out of the store. He turned around and looked at Daren raising two thumbs up at him and Harry was quick to follow her out.

“I’m sorry. I’m not sure what you want me to do,” he said, still confused on what he was supposed to do. She stopped walking, stopping right in front of her white car, and turned around.

“I want you to fuck me,” she said straightforwardly, and Harry’s eyes widened. The woman was about in her forties with a diamond ring on her finger, flashing in his face from how bright the diamond is and how it clashes with the sun.

“P-Pardon?” He stuttered as his face turned red. The lady’s brows raised and Harry could tell that she was getting frustrated mentally and sexually.

“Isn’t that what you guys do? Fuck your customers when they want to?” She crossed her arms impatiently, and Harry’s mouth opened slightly but nothing came out from it, truly speechless at her words.

“I-I’m sorry…I don’t-”

“Ugh, never mind. Forget it,” the lady scoffed and walked to the driver side of her car and got in quickly before driving away, leaving Harry with an unsatisfied customer, a frustrated him, and possibly an angry boss.

With slow steps, Harry walked towards the entrance as he gave himself a 30 second pep talk before he had to go through the door, hoping he wouldn’t get fired on his first day.

He opened the door, the bell from above ringing from the movement of the door. The first thing that his eyes landed on was Daren’s confused face, and Harry frowned, nerves boiling through his veins.

“The fuck you still doing here?” Daren asked with his hands up. Harry scratched the back of his neck, feeling his blouse getting too tight for his own good.

“I, uh-”

“I sure hope to god you’re about to say you made her orgasm in two minutes. And you better not that you lasted two minutes,” his hands are now on his hips, waiting for his answer. “Well? Gonna give me a straight answer or are you gonna just stand there?” Harry’s brows furrowed in anger; from frustration and desperation of making money.

“You never told me what to fuckin’ do. Just expected me to hear a phrase and fuck someone? A little heads up would’ve been nice!” He snapped, his voice louder than he would like, but figured it’s necessary.

“Thought you already figured it out when I was talking about your cock back at the bar!” Daren retorted back, grabbing Harry’s arm and bringing him to the back, away from the other workers.

Harry yanked his arm back when they were both away from the rest, “The least you could’ve done was tell me straight up.”

“I didn’t think you’d care! You’re a good looking guy that probably wants to get laid. When was the last time you fucked someone anyways?” Harry looked at him and rolled his eyes, not answering his question. “I’m assuming it’s been a while…” he paused, eyes widened as if he made a realization. “Unless you’re a virgin because I’m not sure this is the right job for you—well, it might be depending how you look at it-”

“Yes, it’s been a while and no, I’m not a virgin. Not like there’s anything wrong with that,” Harry interrupted just to simply shut him up.

“Look kid, I’m sorry I wasn’t more clear on what this job offered, that was my fault,” Daren placed a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, how about the rest of the day, you just work with the candy. You don’t have to deal with customers today, and you can decide if you still want to work here. If you do, then you start tomorrow— actually start tomorrow this time. How does that sound?” Harry took a deep breath and nodded slowly, figuring he has about 3 hours to decide what he wants to do. “Great. There’s a few containers that need restocking and some unboxing in the back.”

Harry got to work immediately, but he took his time to make time somehow go by faster as he was surrounded by sour candies, chocolate, and bubblegum. And he was also thinking on how this whole thing will end up. It was only his first day so he wouldn’t get paid, but if Daren was true to his word when he said he would start out at $40, he may as well end up staying here. Because where else is he going to get that type of money in one day? No where. He’d have to work at least two weeks to get a whole $30 when he can make so much more if he were to stay at Sweetland.

Time did go by faster as his brain was scrambled with thought and his mouth felt like he’s eaten every piece of candy. He threw out all the boxes and stored the candy in its right container before washing his hands to see the rest of the workers cleaning up. He wanted to help out, even though he’s done enough, and grabbed a rag before wiping down the counter and the spaces between the candy containers.

“Hey,” Harry said to the guy, whose name tag read Pete, as he was sweeping the floor of sugar and dropped candy.

Pete looked up and smiled, “How did you like your first day?”

“It was unexpected.” Harry chuckled.

“It is, isn’t it?” Pete smiled, and Harry nodded.

“That’s how he dropped the bomb on all of us. Didn’t say much of what we do besides what we do with the actual candy, but just threw us into the pack of wolves and fed us alive.”

“That’s…descriptive.” Pete laughed. “I mean, is it worth it?”

“If you’re desperate for money, then yeah. The reason why we all stayed was mainly because of that, but we’ve grown to like it a lot, and that’s not because we get to have sex everyday. But because Daren is actually really fun and cool, and we’ve all made friends with each other. It’s an experience, for sure.” Harry nodded, taking everything in. He knew his answer before talking to Pete, but he just needed some reassurance, guidance.

Daren came to view when Harry looked up, walking towards him, obviously for one reason. “So, boy, what do you say?”

Harry thought for the last time. Quickly going over his decisions, and having a full on debate in his head as he imagined pros and cons lists. The pros out weighted the cons, and there was really no question about it. The pros were: lots of money, sex, nice coworkers, and good candy. The cons list was: nothing.

He didn’t think he’d end up like this. Working for a fake candy store, but in the sense it’s not fake because it sells real candy, and getting sex this way.

But again, he needed to make sacrifices in order to keep his place and practically live.

“I’ll stay.”

Your muscles were strained from the amount of hours you were on your feet--more like years since you’ve been dancing ever since you were little. From teaching your students a plie to releve to saute; always making sure yours and their toes are always pointed. Your muscles were aching and you were tired, physically and mentally.

It wasn’t like you didn’t love to dance--you’ve been doing it for years, hell, you were teaching it. But it was the long hours during the day where some days, you had to teach and rehearse for at least 12 hours a day. So, needless to say, you were exhausted.

But that wasn’t even the worst of them all. At the end of the day, you had to go home and deal with your family. They were supportive, but not in the sense where you want them to be. They were supportive in what they want for you, not what you want for yourself. It was something you had to live with--you don’t remember a time you got what you wanted, except when you suggested you wanted to do dance when you were younger.

It didn’t take long for them to agree for them to sign you up for dance classes, but only signing you up for classical ballet.

“Sweetheart, it’s just more elegant. You’ll learn how to be more flexible and fix that god awful posture of yours,” your mother had said when you suggested you wanted to do something like tap dance. You had nodded your seven-year-old head as you sulked back to your room, figuring ballet was better than nothing when you asked to take some dance classes.

Your mother, Jane, wasn’t always so harsh with you. In fact, her attitude towards you had gotten better as you got older, but that was probably because she found your dad, Richard, cheating on her with another woman. And she thought you didn’t know a thing, hence why her attitude changed towards you, but you knew everything.

But you were all Jane had, and it was when you were sixteen, she suggested a girls day with you; talking to you with a soft tone and not making any remarks towards how you look. But you were happy for the change; it bettered and strengthened your relationship with your mother and she sides with you with almost everything once your father comes at you for something so little.

Walking through the large doors of your home, you threw your bags on the floor, the heaviness was making your back and shoulders hurt even more, immediately walking towards the kitchen as you stretched out your limbs and joints.

It was almost 10 p.m and you realized you had so many things to do still. Between coming up with a routine and some new ways to warm up, you were filled with overwhelmingness, and you just wanted to have a decent meal in silence.

But sadly, you didn’t get that--either of that. Instead of silence, laughs were heard from the dining room, and once you walked into the room to see what all the noise was about, the thought of a decent meal was lost from your appetite at the sight in front of you.

It was your father laughing with your ex boyfriend, Chris. The sight was unbearable and you wanted to run out of the room, but first, you wanted to know what the actual fuck is Chris doing here.

“Ah, darling, so glad you could join us. Was just having a laugh here with your dear boyfriend, Chris,” Richard had said once he saw you, calming down from his laughter. Chris was looking at you with a smile, and you never wanted to slap a smile off someone’s face before him.

“Ex boyfriend,” you said clearly, making sure they both heard you right.

“Oh, tomato, tomahto. Same shit. Won’t be long until you get back together with him,” Richard chuckled, thinking he was right. But he was far from right; you have no plans whatsoever getting back together with him nor do you have plans ever associating yourself with him, so the fact that he’s in your house right now is just boiling your blood.

“Father, Chris and I are never getting back together. I mean it,” you tell your father, but looking at Chris as you say so, hoping to get your words engrained to his skull. But all Chris did was smirk at like you were wrong, but you rolled your eyes, not amusing him.

“Sure, whatever you say. How about you sit and join us.” Richard points his hands towards the empty chair next to Chris.

“I’d rather not,” you sighed.

“Not asking you, darling,” Richard gives you a disapproving look as if he’s trying not to lash out in front of his ‘perfect’ guest like he’s a ‘perfect’ host.

“Well, I’m telling you I don’t want to. Besides, I have schoolwork to do.” You told him sternly, completely over this conversation. As you were about to walk away, his voice raised slightly.

“Darling. Sit. Now,” he demanded. He was angry, that’s for sure, and the vein on his forehead looked like it was about to pop from you not cooperating.

Giving him the point, you sighed as you took a seat next to Chris, but left a chair between you two, not wanting to be anywhere close to him. You wouldn’t be in this position if you hadn’t walked in on your father and Chris being buddies, and you wished that you had just ignored the laughter because your night would’ve been much nicer than sitting at a table with the two of them together.

But you were rather proud of yourself for sticking up for yourself. Some parents may call it talking back, but that was nowhere near talking back. You grew a thick skin around him throughout the years. From the countless times of crying in your bedroom because Richard would call you names or tell you that you weren’t good enough, you had to grow that kind of toughness around him. Sometimes you had to fight back for yourself; you weren’t going to let him or anyone walk all over you. Seeing your father do that to your mother just broke your heart, but you told yourself that no one will ever treat you like that.

“So, Chris and I were talking about your futures together-”

You raised a hand up only for it to be smacked onto the table causing the table to make a loud sound. “What did I just say? I am never going to have a future with him.”

“Not after what he planned for us,” Chris pitched in.

“Well, you can shove that plan up your ass if you think I’m gonna let you plan my future!” You said, turning towards your father. You were on the edge of your seat, close to getting up and raising your voice even louder or completely walking out of the room as anger flushed through you.

“Do not speak to me that way! Who gave you the right to even use those words?” Richard’s eyes furrowed as he pointed a finger at you, obviously angry, and not giving a fuck if he had a guest hear his anger.

“Gave me the right? You did when you decided to be an absolute dick to mom and I!” You were fully standing up, hands planted on the table.

“Language! You don’t know what you’re talking about-”

“But I do, don’t I? Right, father? I know everything,” you gave him a challenging look, which he was not amused with.

“I’m gonna give you five seconds-”

“Don’t bother,” you scooted your chair back, and walked out of the dining room and up the stairs. You just wanted a peaceful and relaxing night, but you got the exact opposite.

You were headed up the stairs, quickly, furious and frustrated at your father. Stomps on the hard floor were heard that you didn’t even hear the footsteps following behind you.

“Hey,” the voice you recognized was Chris’, and you felt your arm slightly being yanked by him, causing you to stop walking. You turned around, immediately taking your arm out of his hold.

“Don’t touch me or ever grab me like that,” you said, and he thinks it’s the most serious tone he’s ever heard out of you.

“Chill, I was gonna see if you were okay after that-”

“Well, don’t! I never asked for you to check up on me, and stop grabbing me like that--I’ve told you a million times. It’s annoying, not cute,” you rolled your eyes. You were right in front of your bedroom door and you just wanted to go inside and be over with the day, but of course, Chris keeps talking.

“Would you stop being a bitch for once? I don’t understand why we can’t be civil with each other, I’m working with your father,” he said, voice slightly raised, but you don’t let it get to you.

“The only reason why I can’t be civil with you is because I can’t stand being around you. And guess who messed that up? You did,” you pointed at him. “You’re just like him. Can’t have one person satisfy you. Always wanna sleep around and think you’re forgiven,” you shook your head in disbelief, trying not to let the tears cloud your eyes.

It wasn’t like you were still hung up on the situation, but the thought of being that heartbroken again did not make you feel the best. The feeling of your heart sinking into your stomach was something you did not want to feel again. And you didn’t think you were wrong for wanting to protect your fragile heart. You were strong on the outside; not taking shit from anyone, and you think that’s a strong quality to have. But deep down, you still had your guard up. Physically, you were fine connecting with people, but emotionally, it was necessary to protect yourself.

“C’mon, baby, it was one time,” you cringed at the name.

“First, don’t call me baby. I mean it. Second, one time was enough. I’ve witnessed it--still witnessing it with my mother staying with my father when he cheats time and time again. That ‘one time’ shouldn’t have even happened. Now, leave me alone and get out of my house.” You walked into your room, but before you were about to shut the door, he placed a hand on it, stopping you from closing it.

“Y’know, maybe we can just have a little fun. Hate fuck all the anger out of each other. Maybe it’ll help get that stick out of your ass,” he smirked and you rolled your eyes in disgust and annoyance.

“Don’t worry, I have better places to go other than you.”

With that you slammed the door in his face, knowing exactly where you could go to destress.

just a glimpse of what their lives look like! CHAPTER TWO IS COMING ON AUGUST 21!

taglist babies: @froggystyles @outofsstyles @whoschantel @4592222 @groovybaybee @bfharry @wellbafineline @tfonty @bfilipa52 @afire-hes @thorsangel @brrilliant-harry @apples2019

#cloud nine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles au #harry styles writing #harry styles series #harry styles ff #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #boyfriend!harry #actor!harry #harry #harry styles #hs #harry styles drabble #harry styles concept

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sarahzstories · 3 years

Text

✨Interview with Princess and Narry✨

✨*A/N This is in the format that Niall, Harry and Princess are having a sit down interview with someone for a magazine. I have a Part 2 ready if you are interested, also feel free to send in questions you want the three of them to answer! Enjoy!*✨

Q: How did you really meet? And when?

Niall: At a Christmas party in New York about what like eight years ago?

Princess: Yeah they crashed my aunt’s party and Harry ran into me and spilled a drink all over me.

Harry: It was an accident and I have apologized several times since it happened.

Princess: That’s true he does apologize every year on our friend-anniversary.

Q: Is there a group chat?

Princess: Yes duh.

Harry: It’s called the Three Amigos.

Niall: I love dat it’s been da same name since we made it eight years ago.

Q: Who is the most annoying in the group chat?

Harry: Me

Niall: For sure Harry. He’s da bloody worst at sending incomplete thoughts instead of just thinking about what he’s tryin ta say and sending one long paragraph.

Princess: He just tells us things as they pop into his head is all. It’s not annoying.

Niall: She’s jus sayin dat cos she’s nice.

Harry: No she’s saying that because she does the same thing just not as much as I do. Remember that time she was trying to tell us she ran into Orlando Bloom at Starbucks?

Niall: Bloody hell that was such a shit show of a text conversation.

Princess: I was star struck! I couldn’t form complete sentences!

Q: What are yours names in each other’s phones?

Niall: Harry is jus saved as H an Princess is saved as Princess wit da crown emoji an a heart.

Harry: Niall is the Irish One in my phone and Princess is Bestfriend and it has a sparkle and heart emoji next to it.

Niall: *rolls eyes*

Princess: Oh Harry is saved under Little Lanky Baby with a red heart and Niall is My Little Irish Marshmallow with a clover emoji.

Harry: What? Are you serious?

Niall: Have Ya never noticed our contact names when she sends screenshots?

Harry: I’m not lanky?

Niall: Are ya havin a laugh mate? Yer arse is lanky.

Princess: You really are and that’s okay! Everyone loves it!

Harry: I don’t know how I feel about this...

Princess: You’ll survive.

Q: When do you three actually become as close as you are now? Was it instant?

Harry: I think it was maybe a month after we met. We got really close very fast because we talked all the time.

Niall: I agree, it was pretty fast we jus clicked and I think it was like after a month or so that we invited her to a show and after dat it was like we knew each other fo ever.

Princess: Texting and talking on the phone really helped speed up the getting to know you process. They’ve had a key to my apartment since like six months after knowing them. We all just meshed really well and it’s been great.

Q: Have you ever been in a fight? If so what was it about?

Niall: Oh god...

Harry: Yes. One fight and I don’t like to talk about it. But it was about my debut album details getting out before I was ready.

Princess: He’s so sensitive about this subject but yeah only one so far and it only lasted like three days so wasn’t too bad.

Harry: Wasn’t too bad? It was horrible. We didn’t speak for 72 hours.

Niall: It was all a misunderstanding type thing cos Harry over reacted and got mean and then just didn’t know how to fix it.

Princess: He didn’t overreact. He was right to be mad at me.

Harry: I’m not getting into this.

Niall: It’s been years mate let it go it’s okay you got upset at her, no friendship is perfect, even ours.

Harry: You wanna talk about how you also got mad at her the same day? Or no?

Niall: Jesus Yer in a mood today, m’fine talkin bout our little fight cos it only lasted a day and it was cos I blew things outta proportion.

Princess: Once again it’s fine we are allowed to be upset with each other. Next question?

Harry: Yes. Let’s move on.

Q: Is jealously an issue between the three of you?

Niall: *looks at Harry*

Princess: *also looks at Harry*

Harry: Excuse me, may I help you two with something?

Princess: Wanna talk about getting jealous?

Harry: I don’t get jealous.

Niall: Are ya fuckin jokin? Yer arse is the reason why we have ta have a group calendar so no one gets more one on one time than the other Ya knob!

Harry: That has nothing to do with being jealous. I like to be organized with my time that’s all.

Princess: That’s all? You sure?

Harry: I’m sure.

Princess: So it’s not because one time you realized Niall and I had seen each other three times in one week without you?

Harry: I mean three times in a week is a lot.

Niall: Yer ridiculous mate jus admit ya get jealous whenever P hangs out wit anyone besides you.

Harry: I’m choosing not to respond to that.

Q: Who’s the most protective?

Princess: It’s a toss up between the two of them.

Harry: I’d say i get more protective while Niall is the first to want to fight anyone who makes P feel uncomfortable or makes her cry. But I’m the one who wants to just prevent it at all costs.

Niall: what he means is he would rather P never leave da bloody house.

Harry: It would make it easier...

Princess: I get protective over them as well though!

Harry: *looks at Niall*

Niall:*looks at Harry*

Princess: What? Remember that time I yelled at that man who was trying to take pictures of us at the beach?

Niall: I mean yer right, ya can get protective an are always the first ta tell paps to fuck off.

Harry: She can be very ferocious when she wants to be.

Niall: *laughs*

Princess: Both of you are assholes.

Harry: I didn’t say anything!

Q: Was it easier being friends when Niall and Harry were both in the same band?

Princess: Yes I mean it wasn’t as chaotic trying to figure out what dates work best to see who but also it was a whole different type of chaos when I’d go visit them while they were in One Direction.

Niall: Ya it was wild as hell when she’d come cos we were literally always doin somethin fo tha band either all five of us or dey would separate us into groups and it would be Harry and I and the rest of da boys and we would be shootin promo or even recordin a bloody album!

Harry: It was always her getting shoved in a backseat with us in a car or getting little fifteen minutes breaks to talk and actually see each other between whatever the hell we had to do the days she was on tour with us.

Princess: But the shows were so much fun, but I’d honestly say getting to visit them while on their solo tours is better than when they were in One Direction simply because they get more down time and it’s not always go go go like it was back then.

Niall: I agree, when we get to the venues of our shows we don’t have ten thousand things ta do before the show so we get to chill and hang out.

Harry: It’s really such a different world going on tour now than it was when we toured with One Direction.

Princess: But I honestly would put up with the craziness of visiting them while in One Direction still if I had to.

Niall: Is she-

Harry: Hinting that she wants a One Direction reunion tour? Yes.

Princess: What? That’s not what I meant.

Harry: Mhm...right.

Niall: *laughs*

Princess: *rolls eyes*

Q: Okay but really who do you enjoy hanging out with more?

Niall: *looks at Princess*

Harry: Hmm...

Princess: Is this just a question for me? *raises an eyebrow*

Harry: I have the most fun with Princess.

Niall: Same. Harry makes me wanna smack em upside da head too much when it’s jus tha two of us.

Harry: I could say the same thing about you, you little hobbit.

Princess: I don’t have a favorite. I get asked this all the time on my Instagram and I feel like no one believes me? But I truly don’t have a favorite to hang out with and actually like it when it’s all three of us together.

Q: How do you deal with dating while being so close to the boys? Does it get weird?

Harry: Threats. Lots of threats.

Niall: Oh please we aren’t tha most threatenin set of blokes H. It doesn’t get weird tho cos P doesn’t really date do ya Princess?

Princess: I go on dates yes, I haven’t been in a serious relationship is a while but it’s not weird, everyone I talk to knows I’m friends with Niall and Harry.

Harry: I’d like to think we have more than just a regular friendship...

Princess: I mean yes it’s a bit different. But I let them know before it even gets to us going on dates that the two of them are a massive part of my life.

Niall: Same goes fo us though, I tell the people m’interested in bout P and the fact she’s one of the main people in my life and most of em are fine wit it.

Harry: Everyone who knows me knows about my relationship with Princess and knows that nothing comes before it. She will always come first, like it or not.

Princess: He is so dramatic i swear he makes it sound like I’m the only person in his life that he’s like this with, it’s the same with his family. Not just me.

Niall: Harry is dramatic though but it’s true, everyone that even tries ta get wit H knows three things for sure and it’s that he loves a good Gucci suit, loves his family and his friendship with Princess is untouchable.

Harry: Oh now who sounds dramatic?

Princess: We are going to be single forever aren’t we?

Niall: We could do one of dem packs about getting married if we are single when we are thirty.

Harry: I’d rather not marry you when I’m thirty that’s when I’ll just be starting to thrive.

Niall: Oi! Then when? Ya wanna be so old ya won’t enjoy it?

Harry: You’ll enjoy it no matter the age it happens you knob.

Princess: How about sixty? Still young, I mean look at Bruce he is thriving!

Harry: *rolls eyes* you’ve been dying to bring up Bruce Willis haven’t you?

Niall: Deal.

Harry: I guess I can agree to that.

Q: Favorite thing about each other?

Niall: I’d have to say I enjoy Harry’s opinions, he doesn’t sugar coat em he knows I don’t like all that fake ass stuff so he tells it to me straight.

Harry: You’re quite welcome for always telling you when you’re being an asshole.

Niall: Ya gotta ruin every moment don’t ya? Anyways I’d say my favorite thing bout Princess would be...her ability to jus know what I need and when I need it.

Harry: It’s kind of freaky how she does that though right? The texts are the creepiest.

Niall: Right? Like when she can jus sense ya’ve had a bad day so she sends ya Dis heartwarming text and yer jus like how the bloody fuck did she know??

Princess: I just know you both so well! I can’t help it.

Harry: It’s great love, we love it.

Niall: doesn’t make it any less creepy though.

Princess: Well I’d say my favorite thing about Niall is that he has this ability to make everyone around him instantly feel comfortable and like at home if that makes any sense?

Harry: I can agree, he’s very good at making everyone around him feel at ease.

Princess: And my favorite thing about Harry is he has this weird way of knowing how you need to be comforted. Like he knows when to just hold your hand, when to pull you in for a hug or just when you grab you and hold you. It’s lovely.

Niall: Ah yeah dis is so true. Always tryin ta hug me.

Harry: Well I don’t see you fighting me off.

Niall: Oi yer arse didn’t answer what yer fave things are bout us, do ya not have one?

Harry: I love Niall’s sense of humor, we both have the same type of lame humor and laugh at the stupidest stuff. My favorite thing about Princess is probably how she just gets me and lets me be me.

Princess: *sniffles* Can we move on?

Niall: Way ta go got er all watery eyed now.

Harry: I’m not the one who asked the question! I just answered it. You got her all emotional too you knob.

Q: Have you written any songs about your friendship?

Niall: Yeah Harry have we?

Harry: *rolls eyes* yes.

Princess: Go on, just tell them.

Niall: Yeah H jus tell em. Get it off yer chest.

Harry: You’re in such a mood today. Fine. I wrote meet me in the hallway about when Princess and I had a fight.

Niall: And...

Harry: I wrote Adore You with her in mind about her effect on the people around her. That she has no clue she has.

Princess: What about you Niall?

Harry: Yes hobbit what about you hmmm?

Niall: I wrote the Tide while thinking about her when she was datin that one arsehole.

Harry: And?

Niall: Fine you arse I also wrote Mirrors about her as well.

Harry: Oh and if you’re wondering about One Direction songs the main one we wrote about our friendship is Drag Me Down.

Niall: S’pretty obvious though, s’fo her and da whole fandom really.

Princess: That is my hype song. So damn good.

Q: What’s a memory the three of you cherish?

Princess: Oh that’s a good one!

Niall: S’gotta be when we all went ta Cabo fo a week like three years ago and we jus laid in the sun by the beach all day and got drunk off wine at night an it was one of tha most relaxing vacations I’ve ever had.

Harry: That was a great trip.

Princess: Mine is when we had our first sleepover at my tiny ass New York apartment. When we did face masks and ended up passing out on my bed watching Will and Grace. I think that next morning is when I really realized you two were going to literally be my humans forever.

Harry: Oh the good ole days of our sleepovers and trying to squeeze onto your loveseat. Mine is the time when Niall and I had to go get you from the bar when you got too drunk on a Monday night.

Princess: That’s your most cherished memory? Really?

Harry: Yes, because that was the first time you ever used us as your like emergency contact and the first time we had to come save you. You weren’t super wasted, Niall and I just had to make sure you got home safe and it was nice because you kept telling us how much you loved us.

Niall: Now we always gotta come save er, member that one time we had ta crash her date wit dat golf dude?

Princess: Oh god

Harry: That was fun! He was a proper dick.

Princess: Next question?

Q: This is the last one, who said I love you first out of the three of you?

Princess: It was Niall

Harry: I know everyone is gonna be shocked to hear it wasn’t me.

Niall: I mean yeah it was me. M’not ashamed of it. I was tellin P bye and was like love ya and she said love you too Ni and then Harry got all mushy an was like, what did ya say H?

Princess: He said and I quote “if we are saying we love each other I want to be involved because I love you too!”

Harry: Sounds about right.

Niall: That was like what three months into the friendship?

Harry: Yeah five or take a few weeks.

Princess: Now we say it all the time!

Harry: So that’s it then yeah?

Interviewer: Yeah that’s it! Thank you so much for your time this was so fun.

Niall: It was fun gettin ta hear what people wanna know bout the three of us. Hope it wasn’t borin.

Princess: Us boring? Never.

#life with narry #interview #niall horan #harry styles #narry #harry styles imagine #niall horan imagine #narry imagine #my little irish marshmallow #my little lanky baby

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writethelifeyouwant · 4 years

Text

Dive Bar, Ch. 1/?

Pairing: Dean x OFC (Dany) x Sam (brief), Dean x Sam (eventually) Rating: 18+ Prompt/Summary: @spnkinkbingo square - Gay Panic (eventually, I don’t know how to write short things, so the gay panic comes later). Dany and Dean hit it off at a bar and Dean is confident it’s a sure thing. But Dean doesn’t know that Dany’s has a dare to complete, and he definitely didn’t imagine his night would end with his pull inviting his little brother to come home with them too. WC: 3278 Tags: alcohol, cheesy flirting, tags will change next chapter 😉😏🍆 A/N: Okay, let’s be real. Anyone who knows me by now, knows I can’t fucking cut to the chase. Welcome to part one of who knows how many. If you want the smut quickly, I encourage begging 🤣(and so does Sam 😏) Ambience: Really want to set the mood? Welcome to a dive bar in Nowheresville, USA: Playlist and Ambience

***

Sam told Dean he was crazy for even trying but Dean had a sense about these things; Sam didn’t. He was too considerate. Sam thought the fact she was out with her girlfriends meant she wasn’t interested, she wouldn’t want to be bothered, but Dean knew better. The ones who went up to get the next rounds were the ones who were looking to be bothered. They were separating themselves from the pack on purpose, to give guys the opportunity to pick them up and show them a good time. They wanted to prove to their friends that they were desirable. It wasn’t a bad confidence boost either, even if the guys that came on to them weren’t what they were after.

So, when the girl with the flirty eyelashes that had been staring over at Sam and Dean’s table for the past half-hour spun off her stool and went to lean against the unpleasantly sticky bar, Dean knew his window had opened.

“Watch and learn Sammy,” Dean smirked and slapped Sam’s shoulder as he sauntered over to his target, fixing his best smoulder in place.

The girl felt movement behind her when Dean slid up and motioned to the bartender that he was after another round, and she turned with a coy but almost predatory twitch to her smile. She knew exactly who was behind her.

“Hi there,” Dean was almost leering at the girl.

Across the room, Sam was resisting the urge to put his head in his hands and pretend he’d never met his brother. This was gonna be a train wreck. At the very least, Dean was about to end up with one of those margaritas the bartender was laying down in front of her thrown in his face.

Deciding to spare himself the second-hand embarrassment of watching Dean crash and burn with the coed he’d been eyeing since they arrived, Sam let his eyes wander the rest of the bar absentmindedly. He was nursing his second beer of the evening, after pounding back his first one with Dean in their stupid post-hunt ritual.

It was new, their whole ‘who can down their beer the quickest’ routine. Before Stanford, Sam was lucky if his dad let him split a beer with them after a hunt, let alone chug one. But ever since he and Dean had been back on the road, it was like Dean was trying to make up for a bit of lost time, and things that absolutely smacked of immaturity were becoming part of how they lived their lives. Like how now, after a successful hunt, they always raced to the bottom of the first beer bottle, leaving the loser to buy the rounds for the rest of the night.

When Dean started it, it was because he figured he obviously had the upper hand. He had years more drinking experience than Sammy, and there was no way the little geek had drunk that much at college.

What Dean didn’t know is that, for a while there, Sam and his friends had gone through a bit of a mental breakdown that manifested itself in endless parties, borderline alcoholism, and a very brief experimentation with some drugs on the ‘gateway’ end of the spectrum. Really, it was Sam’s best friend Brady pushing all of that, but with how he had grown up, Sam felt he was due some kind of breakdown, and it had felt good to let go for a little while. So, when Sam beat Dean in that first chugging contest, it became a whole different ball game. Now every time they did it, Dean was defending his honor. And he defended it about half the time but that night, Sam had won.

Exhaling quietly in amusement at the absurdity of their routine, Sam spared a glance back towards Dean at the bar. He quickly ducked his head down when he realised Dean and the girl were looking over at him, like Dean was talking about him. Why would you spend time telling the girl you’re trying to bang about your weird kid brother? Maybe she had asked who Dean was there with, just making small talk.

Yeah, that must be it, Sam thought to himself as he took another swig and realised he’d finished it on the sip before.

Torn between wanting another drink and not wanting to walk into the middle of a Dean Winchester flirt fest, Sam tried to quietly observe his brother again, hoping he would have struck out by now and it would be safe to approach. Peeking out from behind his hair Sam could see them leaning against the high wooden bar quite cozily, and laughing all nice and friendly-like.

Damn. It looked like Dean was gonna be right about this chick; she was into him. Really, she shouldn’t be surprised. Everyone’s into Dean. And now he was gonna have to sleep in the Impala tonight. For once he’d like to just have a drink with his brother and go home (to the motel) and sleep in his own (motel) bed. Just perfect.

When Dany turned around to acknowledge Dean, who had just sidled up behind her at the bar, she was very pleased with herself.

Guys are just too simple, she mused.

“Hi there,” Dean smiled down at her (he was considerably taller, despite her heels), charm turned on full blast.

“Hey yourself,” she smiled back. She was friendly, but careful not to be too forward. Dean was the kind of guy that felt proud of winning the chase, she could just tell. And considering how forward she was planning on being after she made sure this guy wasn’t an axe-murderer, she figured playing coy for a little wouldn’t hurt.

“So, this is kind of embarrassing,” Dean leaned down conspiratorially but still had to speak quite loudly to be heard above the noise of the bar. “My brother over there is a little shy.” Dean jerked his head behind him, to indicate where he had left Sam a moment before.

Taken by surprise, Dany leaned back to look at Sam sitting alone at his high-top, who happened to look over at the two of them at the same time. Sam quickly ducked behind his bangs, trying very hard not to make eye contact. Dany giggled to herself. She had figured this guy was about to chat her up but he was over here asking for his brother who, based on his reaction a second ago, definitely was shy. How cute.

“And,” Dean continued speaking and pulled Dany back from her thoughts of his shy and cute younger brother, “he wanted me to ask you for your number, so he knows how to get a hold of me tomorrow morning.”

It took a second, but when the penny dropped Dany burst out laughing. Dean beamed, proud of his choice in pick-up lines, and let Dany get the giggles out of her system. “I know, I’m adorable.” Dean shrugged as if to say ‘what can you do?’ and leant back against the bar, bringing himself closer to Dany’s level. “I’m Dean.” He held out his hand and she took it, still stifling the last of her laughter.

“Well, let me congratulate you on your originality Dean. I genuinely have not heard that one before.”

“Do I get a prize?” Dean’s eyebrows arched cheekily.

“I don’t know,” Dany shrugged. “What do I get out of this deal?”

“Sweetheart, you get whatever you want.”

“How about we start with a drink?”

“Sure your friends won’t mind me taking up all your time?”

Dany looked behind her to where she’d left her friends. They were all giggling and looking at her and Dean at the bar but trying to look like they weren’t paying attention to them at all. She shook her head despairingly at how unsubtle they were. Her friends were the worst. But she supposed they had more of a vested interest in how her night went than usual. Tonight was her dare night.

“I think they can live without me for a little while.”

“Wow, you’re really putting ‘em back sweetheart,” Dean laughed as Dany drained another beer. She was matching him round for round.

“Well, I came out to have a good time tonight,” Dany shrugged, smiling mischievously.

“How’s that working out for ya’ so far?”

“I’d say, so far so good, Dean.”

Dean made finger guns at the empty glasses. “Get you another?”

“Yeah, thanks,” she grinned as tucked her hair behind her ear.

Dean rocked up to the bar and motioned to the haggard looking student behind it that he was after refills. When something brushed against his shoulder he jumped, reaching under his jacket until he realised it was just Sam.

“Hey,” Dean drew out the ‘y’ on the end of his word. “Ma’ man Sam.” Dean smacked Sam’s shoulder and his brother tried to tamp down his bemused grimace.

“How buzzed are you, dude?”

“Just the right amount Sammy,” Dean grinned wolfishly as he accepted the new beers from the bartender. The kid tried to take Sam’s order but Sam brushed him off. “Woah, you’re not tapping out?” Dean’s concern was almost comical.

“Yeah, I’m just gonna go back to the motel. Grab some shut eye.” Sam tried to sound sage, like he was making this move because it was the smart, responsible thing to do, and not let on that it was his loneliness driving him home too early for Dean’s approval.

“No, come on man, I’m not letting you be a sap tonight.” Dean waved over to the bartender for another beer, over Sam's objections. “N- listen. You’re gonna take this beer, bring it over to my table with Dany, and we’re gonna pick you out one of her friends.” Again, Sam tried to protest but there was a cold glass sloshing into his hand and a commanding grip on his shoulder and… he was always gonna follow Dean. “They’re all college chicks Sam. One of them has gotta be geeky enough for you.”

When Sam got dragged to the edge of the table where Dean had left Dany a moment ago, something felt off. Sure he felt a little awkward becoming the third wheel while Dean sealed the deal on his sleeping arrangements for that evening but that wasn’t what he noticed the most. Dany looked far too happy to have the extra company at the table. Most girls with Dean in their tractor beams didn’t want anyone interfering, he’d been on that end of the stick one too many times to forget how it felt. But Dany was relaxed and smiling, beaming even, when Dean pushed Sam into a chair between them.

Sam tried to settle into the easy conversation that Dany and Dean were having but he’s too preoccupied trying to suss Dany out to contribute much, despite Dany’s attempts to bring him into the discussion.

“So Sam, Dean said you were the college goer in your family, what did you study?” Dany sipped her beer with her eyes trained on Sam.

“Uh, pre-law,” Sam’s answer turned up at the end like a question. He wasn’t questioning what he studied at Stanford but he was questioning Dany’s motives in talking to him. Why wasn’t she just ignoring him and flirting with Dean?

“Ah, smart guy. Interesting.”

“What are you studying?”

“Media and communications. I want to go into news or television.”

“Well you definitely have the face for it,” Dean cut in smoothly. Dany flushed but she didn’t look embarrassed. She knew what she looked like.

“Okay captain obvious,” Dany laughed. “You usually try this hard to get girls?”

Sam snorted into his beer, highly amused someone was calling Dean on his shit besides him.

“Well I’m sitting here drinking with a beautiful woman. I don’t see any reason to pull punches,” Dean grinned. “Speaking of,” he leant forward craftily, “you got any other beautiful friends we can hook him up with?” Dean jerked his thumb towards his little brother. “I feel bad leaving him high and dry for the night.”

“Dean!” Sam objected loudly, rolling his eyes. Dany just giggled.

“Yeah I think I can help with that.” She drained her remaining drink and stood up. “Let me grab us one more round.”

“Sounds great sweetheart,” Dean swatted at her ass as she passed him on the way back to the bar, ignoring Sam’s further objections to Dean’s new-found mission to get him laid.

“Dude what are you doing?”

“Helping you!”

“I don’t want your help!”

“Well trust me, you need it.”

“Do not!”

Sam’s objections were cut short when Dany returned with three beers and three shots on a tray; one clear and two amber. Dean reached for the drinks to help her unload. “What are we celebrating sweetheart?” He nodded to the shots.

“We’ll find out soon,” Dany hedged, without giving up any more details. “So Sam, what’s your type?”

Sam nearly choked on his beer. “Look Dany, ignore Dean please, I don’t need-”

“No, come on, I’m invested now. What are you into? Boobs? Ass? Both?” Dany’s questions were curious but clinical. None of the teasing that Dean usually injected into the conversation when he tried to get Sam to open up about his sex life. Something in her tone was compelling.

“Are we actually having this conversation?” Sam glanced between Dean and Dany astonishedly. “Did you slip something in my drink?”

Dany laughed at Sam’s attempts to deflect but she could also see something in his face twitch, like his brows tugged up the corners of his lips. Something in him wanted to answer the question, wanted to open up to her. So she pushed.

“Well?”

Sam chuckled once ruefully, more to himself. Cracked his neck and settled back in his chair. Dany could tell he’d made up his mind, he was playing now.

“Both,” Sam smirked. He was invested now too, and he wanted to see where Dany was taking this. Plus, it had been ages since he’d gotten any.

“Okay,” Dany nodded and processed the information, deciding how that affected her line of questioning. Dean was keeping to himself in his corner, but he was having trouble hiding his grin behind his beer. This was already more than he’d ever been able to tease out of Sam.

“Okay, so, not specific about body type, what about attitude? Feisty and forward?” Dany leant forward and trailed her finger down Sam’s arm. He smirked. “Or shy, and sweet?” She withdrew her hand, and ducked behind her hair.

“Okay, why do I feel like I’m getting shut out here?” Dean laughed from his over his drink, not sounding as cocky as he hoped he did.

“Don’t worry Dean, I’m not letting you go anywhere,” Dany smirked. “I’m just doing what you asked, making sure Sam here is sorted out for the night too.” Dany turned her smile back to Sam. “So which one? You like feeling in charge? Or you like getting a little roughed up like Dean over here?”

Now it was Dean’s turn to choke on his beer. “Excuse me sweetheart, what makes you think-”

“Come on Dean,” Dany batted her eyes back in his direction. “I know what you’re after. I know you’re a boob man, that’s why you picked me. Your pick up lines and bravado, they’re looking for validation. You’re looking after your little brother, trying to make sure he’s happy, taken care of… you want someone to do the same thing for you.”

Sam and Dean were both a little speechless. Dany reached past her empty beer and grabbed the shot glass with the clear liquor.

“You sure you don’t actually study psychology or something?” Sam drained the last of his beer, impressed.

“I’m not a shrink,” Dany smiled and shrugged. “I’ve just spent some time with some people, I know what to look out for.”

“So, who are you picking out for me then?” Sam leant forward, now profoundly interested in what Dany may have deduced about what he wants in the bedroom.

“Come clean time,” Dany knocked back her shot with a grimace and let the courage that came from lower inhibitions bubble up. “My friends and me, we play a game most weeks, pick a dare out of a hat. This week mine… was ‘have a threesome.’” Dany peeked up from behind her hair to look at Dean, who looked like he had just won the lottery. Sam’s expression was cautious.

“Okay, so who else we taking home with us sweetheart?” Dean rubbed his hands together and turned to look back at Dany’s group of friends.

“Sam.” Dany answered simply.

“Which one’s Sam?” Dean was still scanning the group of coeds.

“Uh Dean, I think she means me…”

“My dare was a threesome with two guys.” For the first time that evening, Dany’s grin was a little sheepish. “Look I uh- I’m not just doing this because of the dare, it’s not coercion or anything. I wouldn’t be asking you both back if I didn’t want it.”

Dean hadn’t found his voice yet. He was just staring at Dany, mind clearly running a mile a minute, and resolutely not looking at Sam. Sam, on the other hand, couldn’t take his eyes off Dean. The only recognisable emotion on Sam’s face was the tinge of fear in his eyes, like he was waiting for the bomb to go off, and getting more and more anxious by the second the longer it didn’t.

“Why don’t I give you guys a minute to talk,” Dany stood up and pushed the shots she had bought towards them, “and I’ll go grab my purse and meet you by the door?”

“And by ‘you’, you’re speaking in the strictly plural sense?” Sam checked, fingering the whisky in front of him.

“That’s up to you guys,” Dany smiled and rounded the table, dragging her fingers over Dean’s shoulders on her way back to her friends. That seemed to be enough to jumpstart Dean back into speaking.

“Dude what the hell?” Dean’s voice was so, so close to a squeak, Sam really had to hold in his laughter.

“What?” Sam was good at poking the bear.

“What do you mean what? What the fuck?”

“Yeah, I think that’s what she wants Dean. She wants to fuck.”

“Yeah with me and my little brother!” Sam could tell Dean wanted to be shouting but he was keeping his voice to a hiss as best he could.

“Yeah, so?”

“So?!”

God Dean was so easy to wind up, Sam grinned. “Dean, have you never had a threesome before?”

“Uh, yeah, of course.”

“You’re lying,” Sam was astonished. He figured of course Dean would have done this kind of thing before. “You’ve never done one before?” Sam had to double check.

“What, like you have?” Dean defended angrily.

“Uh, yeah,” Sam’s grin was an unusual combination of sheepish but proud. “I um- I have actually, yeah.” Sam reached back and rubbed his neck, at a loss of what to do with his hands right now.

“What the fuck did you do at that college?”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me Dean.”

“Okay, so what, you’re saying you’re okay with this?”

“I’m saying, there’s a real pretty girl over there by the door that wants to have sex. And she wants it so much, she wants two dicks in the equation.” Sam fixed Dean with a firm, decided stare. And he was pretty sure that Dean’s uncertainty was about to evaporate. Dean finally met Sam’s eyes and Sam saw the fight melt out of him.

“Son of a bitch,” Dean breathed, then downed his shot.

***

Tags: @negans-lucille-tblr @hawkerz12 @akshi8278 @babybrotherandthedemon @dylansbabygirl24 @mineshinamary @popsensationnicole23 @spn-problems @donthateme454 @doyouknowsamw @peridottea91 @delightfulbakeryaliendeputy @fictionallemons

I tagged everyone who liked my ‘announcement’ post. If you want to be tagged or you want me to take you off tags, just lmk!

#spn #dive bar #dean x ofc x sam #dean x sam #wincest #spnkinkbingo #gay panic

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notalwaysthevillian · 3 years

Text

Parent Trapped

Warnings: Kissing, medication mention

Pairings: Romantic Remile, platonic LAMP

Word Count: ~1.7k

Masterlist

Chapter 14: What Do We Do First?

The Picani twins took to calling Remy ‘Dad’ almost immediately. Seeing how happy it made their own father, the Sanders boys did the same to Emile.

The first time Logan said it to Emile, he almost cried. Tears welled up in his eyes and he’d gently hugged Logan, making sure it was alright first. Logan hugged him back tightly and let out a soft sigh before heading up to his room.

Over the course of the rest of the boys’ sophomore year, Remy was working up the courage to have a very particular conversation with Emile. Every time he thought he was ready, he chickened out, opting for anything else.

Emile wasn’t stupid, and he could tell Remy had something he wanted to talk about. But the beginning of the year was a busy time for him. There were many people who decided that their resolution would be to finally go to therapy, and Emile was picking up clients left and right.

By the time everything evened out, and those who decided therapy wasn’t for them had dropped it, April had rolled around. The first time Emile truly had a break was the weekend of Roman’s musical.

“I’m headed to the school! See you after!” Roman was shouting into the house as Emile came home.

Emile ducked around him, giving him a high five. “Break a leg.”

“Thank you!”

Roman zipped off, hopping in with Tanya Task, who was waiting at the end of the driveway. The two of them headed off to the school.

Logan cleared his throat, getting everyone’s attention. “We’re going to go hang out in my room until it’s time for dinner. Unless you want help?”

“No,” Remy cut in, realizing what Logan was trying to do for him. “We’ve got it. You probably don’t want to see us sneaking kisses anyway.”

“Is it sneaking if we know you’re doing it?”

Patton giggled at Virgil’s question before heading upstairs behind his brother.

The room fell into a comfortable silence as Emile and Remy expertly moved around each other as they made dinner. The routine was comfortable, the two of them “sneaking” kisses as they went along.

Once the sauce was simmering with the pasta noodles, Emile slipped onto one of their stools. “What’s been on your mind recently?”

“Should’ve known you noticed,” Remy said, before biting his lip. “There’s a conversation we need to have. But I don’t think we should have it while our kids are spying on us.”

A loud gasp came from the staircase, followed by scrambling footsteps as the boys darted upstairs.

Emile stood, taking Remy’s hands in his. “I’m hoping it’s a good thing we need to talk about, but whatever it is, we can have a mature conversation.”

“Oh, god, of course it’s a good thing, Em!” Linking their fingers together, Remy pressed a kiss to Emile’s forehead. “It’s about moving forward, not back. I promise.”

“Pinky promise?”

Remy wrapped his pinky around Emile’s, looking at him with all the love in his heart. “Pinky promise.”

“Apologies for ruining the moment, but I’d rather not eat burnt pasta.”

Both parents dove for the stove. Remy clicked the knob to turn off the heat while Emile yanked the pot off, moving it onto a hot pad.

“Thanks, Logan.”

As the boys set the table, Remy ran a hand through his hair, huffing a little. He’d avoided the conversation again, even though it hadn’t been his intention.

Tonight. He thought to himself, smiling as Emile moved around the table, scooping out portions. We talk tonight.

After everyone had eaten their fill and they’d cleaned up, it was time to head over to get seats for Roman’s show.

“But it starts at 7, Em.” Remy said as Emile drove them over to the school.

Emile shook his head, but anyone could see the small smile on his face. “It starts at 7, yes. But we need to go now so we can get decent seats.”

“Yeah, the best seats tend to be taken by 6:15, if my notes are any indication.” Papers ruffled before Logan spoke again. “Of course, Roman may have gotten the privilege of saving seats for family, but that would technically only apply to the Sanders.”

Turning around, Remy noticed the look on Logan’s face. He simply gave him a nod, the two of them breaking into grins.

It wasn’t surprising that Logan had figured it out. It wasn’t as though Remy had been trying to hide it.

Emile pulled into a parking spot, everyone heading to the front doors. They were joined in the lobby by the other Tasks, the kids all paying for their tickets and heading in to save seats while the adults talked amongst themselves.

“Tanya has been so excited for tonight. I’m so glad she got cast as Elphaba, it’s been her dream role for years.”

Remy laughed. “Yeah, that’s how Roman was last year. He was so excited to play Cinderella’s Prince.”

They talked for a little while longer, before Emile tugged on Remy’s arm. “Rem, the lights are flashing, we’ve gotta go!”

Emile and Remy gave the Tasks a wave goodbye before hustling to their seats. As soon as they’d taken their jackets off and gotten settled, the lights were dimmed completely.

The show went on without too many issues. At one point Roman’s mic hadn’t been turned on, but he managed to project enough that the hanging lights picked up his voice.

During Dancing Through Life, Roman absolutely killed it. The crowd cheered loudly as the music faded, and everyone could see the giant smile on Roman’s face before the lights dimmed.

As the lights came up at the end of the show, the entire audience was on their feet, whistling and clapping.

The Picanis and Sanders made their way to the lobby. Within just a few minutes, the cast came out, making their way to their respective families.

Roman rushed over, giving Patton a bear hug. He gestured for the other boys to join, giving them space as they obliged.

“What did you think??”

“You did amazing!” Patton gushed, jumping up and down in place. “Fiyero is such a good part for you!”

Giving Patton another hug, Roman turned to Logan. “Thanks for the help with the choreography. That little rhyme you made up helped me so much.”

“You’re welcome.”

“V? What did you think?”

Virgil glanced up from fiddling with his sleeves. “You were really good. I can tell that your range has gotten better. Not that it was bad or anything last year, but-”

Roman laid a hand on his shoulder, stopping the explanation. “I get you, no worries.”

“Roman! We’re taking a cast picture!”

“Gotta go, can’t make Elphaba mad.” The joke got a laugh out of the family, and a few of the surrounding crowd. “I’ll meet you guys at home later, we’ve got that cast party tonight.”

“Be home by 11, and stay safe!” Emile called after him as Roman disappeared into the crowd.

“Can we go?” Virgil’s voice was nearly a whisper. He had pulled his hood up and was tugging on the strings.

Emile and Remy exchanged guilty glances before quickly getting the boys back out to the car. Once they were on the road, Remy saw Virgil’s shoulders relax from the rear-view mirror.

“I’m sorry we didn’t leave sooner.”

The two locked eyes in the mirror, Virgil nodding. “It’s okay.”

“Hey, it’s okay to be anxious, remember?” Emile said, his tone gentle. “Do we need to change your medication? You made it through the adjustment period.”

There was a beat of silence.

“Yeah.”

“Okay. I’ll give Dr. McCall a call tomorrow and we’ll get an appointment set up.”

Remy just barely heard Logan whisper, “I can come with if you want. I’ve been doing some research.”

The boys ran upstairs as soon as they got back home. Logan and Virgil were going to look up some of the medications that Logan had looked into, while Patton worked on a diorama.

Swallowing his nerves, Remy grabbed Emile’s hand. “Hey, Em? Can we talk? Good things, I swear.”

“Of course.”

Emile sat down on the couch, watching as Remy paced back and forth. “Do you need therapist Emile or boyfriend Emile?”

That cut the tension, letting Remy get a laugh out. “Boyfriend Emile. And, that’s….kind of what I wanted to talk about.”

“Rem.” Emile’s eyes were getting wide. “Are you proposing?”

“No! I mean, not right this second.” Remy let out a deep sigh. He pushed his hair back, hand bumping into his sunglasses. Taking them off, he played with them in his hands. “But...if I were to do so in the future?”

“Oh, honey, I’d love that!” Grabbing Remy’s face, Emile pulled him into a quick kiss.

Resisting the urge to continue, Remy pulled back ever so slightly. “There’s one more thing. It’s about the kids. We...well, we already pretty much co-parent. I’d like to adopt them.”

That made Emile give him a soft smile. “While I wholeheartedly agree, and I want to adopt your boys as well...we should wait.”

“What?”

“I’m worried what Virgil might think if we adopted them before we were married.” Emile started to explain, threading their fingers together. “He might be afraid that you’ll leave me and then he’d have to deal with two households.”

Leaning so that their foreheads touched, Remy asked, “He’d be afraid or you would be?”

“...maybe a bit of both.”

“Emile Thomas Picani.” Remy started, dropping to one knee. “This isn’t a proposal, but rather a pre-proposal. I love you more than anything on this earth, second to my sons only. If I asked for your hand in marriage, what would you-“

“Yes!” Emile cut him off, pressing their lips together once more, but with more urgency. “Yes, Remy, I will agree to marry you whenever you choose to propose.”

“You’re perfect.”

“Uno reverse.”

The two giggled, falling into each other’s arms and talking as they waited for Roman to get home.

#platonic moxiety #platonic logince #platonic lamp #sanders sides #sanders sides fic #logan sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #remy sanders #emile picani

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mollymauk-teafleak · 3 years

Text

The Bianca Nureyev Detective Agency

This was an anniversary present for my wonderful girlfriend @spiky-lesbian who is just the most wonderful girlfriend ever and I love her a lot!

Juno tries to entertain his and Nureyev’s daughter on a slow day in space...

------------

Being a space pirate did sound good on paper. It sounded like a life full of narrowly dodged laser bullets, sprawling on beds of golden creds, witty one liners delivered to fallen foes in the smoking ruins of their empires that you’d just toppled and large, audacious hats.

And it was like that, about twenty percent of the time. But what they didn’t tell you was that the other eighty percent was a hell of a lot of waiting. It was a lot of snail crawling through deep space, killing days upon days worth of time in cramped metal hallways, eating stasis food and absorbing simulated sunlight. Planning your next big twenty percent could only take up so much time.

And it only got harder when you also had a three year old space pirate to entertain.

“Mamaaaaaaa,” Bee Bee poked her head up over the edge of the sofa, looking like some burrowing animal resurfacing, “I’m bored.”

Juno lowered the case file he’d been reviewing, eyeing his daughter with the tired amusement only a parent could muster, “Oh?”

Bee Bee scrambled up onto the family room’s busted old soda, sinking down beside her mama. She peered at him for a moment, taking note of the way he was sat, one ankle folded over the other and tried to copy him as best she could with her chubby little legs.

“Space is boring,” she declared, “There’s nothing to do.”

Juno set the files aside, silently accepting that he wouldn’t be getting back to them anytime soon, “Nothing? Nothing at all?”

“Nope,” his daughter gave a forlorn sigh, “Nothing at all.”

“Well then,” Juno shrugged, sinking down into the sofa so they were level even if it would be murder on his back later, “We’ll just have to think of something to do, won’t we, kiddo?”

Bee Bee giggled, “Yes. What was mama doing?”

“Oh,” Juno looked to the files he’d piled on the arm of the sofa, “Nothing interesting. Just looking into cases where other people have tried to do the same job we’re going to do.”

“And what happened to them?”

Juno winced. It wasn’t as if their daughter was unaware of the dangers they faced in their line of work. Pirates weren’t exactly famous for operating within the confines of the law, even in her storystreams. And since she’d been born, she’d seen her daddy at work, often getting a birds eye view of it all from a wrap slung across his chest.

“Well. Jail mostly,” he admitted, knowing he didn’t have to hide the truth from her even if it didn’t feel good to.

“Huh,” Bee Bee hardly blinked, swinging her legs, “Well, Auntie Buddy’s way way smarter than all of them. And Auntie Vespa is faster and Auntie Rita is better and Uncle Jet is cooler and my daddy is the best at stealing ever ever in the whole galaxy. And my mama’s the best detective. So we’ll do just fine.”

Juno grinned, reaching over and stroking back her curls, “Yeah. We’ll do just fine.”

“So can I help Mama? With being a detective?” her eyes sparked excitedly.

He knew that look, once her mind was fixed on something she’d follow it to the far side of the universe. She was like her daddy in that. But she wouldn’t exactly find much interest in going through old case files that somehow managed to make jewel heists sound boring. Though the tactics these failed thieves had used didn’t have an awful lot of pizzaz to them. Probably why they’d flopped, or at least that’s what Buddy would say.

“You know what?” Juno snapped his fingers like he’d just had a fantastic idea, “You’re just the kid I need for this very important case!”

“I am!” Bianca beamed, not a question. She had perfect confidence in her own abilities.

“It’s a classic head scratcher, kiddo,” Juno announced grandly, mostly to stall for time while he decided just what this case was going to be, “I’ve been at it for years and I’ve never been able to crack it but with your pluckiness and my brains we might just solve the case of...uh...the case of daddy’s missing glasses!”

Bee Bee gasped appreciatively, “Daddy’s always losing his glasses!”

“He is,” Juno snorted, “And we’ve got to go help him, right?”

“Right!” she jumped onto her feet, bouncing up onto the couch cushions and promptly tumbling, Juno just about managing to catch her. It didn’t seem to diminish her enthusiasm, as her legs windmilled wildly, “Let’s go!”

“Okay,” Juno grinned, “Well, first thing is to examine the scene of the crime and…”

“No, mama!” Bee Bee frowned, looking at him like he was profoundly stupid, “First thing is to dress up.”

“Of course. My mistake.”

Apparently no detective work could be done until Bianca was wearing her mama’s old coat, the one he’d hung onto for sentimental reasons even after he’’d been unable to really call himself a detective. And long after the leather had worn on the elbows and there were none of the original buttons left on it.

It needed to be rolled up quite a few times to even get the tips of her fingers poking out of the sleeves and the bottom of it looked like a mad kind of wedding train but Bee Bee grinned in delight and it was pretty good to see the old thing getting some use again.

“Now we go to the scene of the crime,” she declared, waving her arms, “Daddy and mama’s room!”

“Come on then, co-detective,” Juno laughed, “Lead the way.”

If Nureyev was surprised to see them burst through the door, it didn’t show on his face. He didn’t scare easily. He only smiled and tilted his head, quickly shoving the book on pregnancy he’d been reading far under Juno’s pillow. They weren’t quite ready to broach that subject with Bianca yet.

“Hello, my loves,” he hummed, “What adventures are we on today?”

“We’re playing detective!” Bee Bee toddled up, clambering on the bed to give him a quick hug before anything else, “Going to find your glasses.”

“Oh could you!” Nureyev smiles pleasantly, “It does seem I’ve misplaced them again, reading is something of a chore without them.”

Juno arched an eyebrow at his husband, “You wouldn’t possibly be deliberately reading that book without your glasses so you could claim you have while not retaining any information or looking at any of the diagrams?”

“An outlandish notion,” Nureyev flicked his fingers at him airily, turning his attention to Bianca who was now crawling around the bed, bent over so she could scrutinise every inch of the sheets like a bloodhound with a scent, “Please, dear little detective, will you take my case?”

“We on the case, daddy!” Bee Bee assured him, hurrying over to give him a hug, now just because she wanted to, “We’ll find the glasses.”

“You gotta question the witness,” Juno advised, “Build a timeline.”

Bee Bee nodded, looking up at Nureyev with a sudden fierce seriousness, “What is your timeline, daddy?”

He couldn’t help but smile down at her as he pretended to think, “Let’s see...well, I went to the kitchen for breakfast...then I had to collect some floorplans from Buddy’s office, I read them over in the family room with my wife...then I had an appointment with the physician. Then I came here to have a nap and do my assigned reading.”

Juno rolled his eyes at that last one.

“We’ll track 'em down!” Bee Bee declared, barrelling off the bed onto the ground. Again, her mama only just managed to catch her, “Come on, Detective Mama! Before the trail goes cold!”

Juno chuckled, pausing briefly to lean down and kiss Nureyev, before he followed his daughter, not needing to hurry too much, one of his strides matching about five of hers.

Their trail through the ship took them most of the rest of the afternoon, clattering through the winding corridors, the two of them making up wild twists and turns whenever suited them, inventing new characters, dastardly schemes that had happened off screen, speculating wildly on new threats. Buddy of course joined in enthusiastically, she was a regular and beloved playmate of Bianca’s. Just searching her room turned into a frantic search to disarm a bomb left by this mysterious glasses thief, a bomb that turned out to be in Buddy’s chest which could only be fixed by a hug from a plucky little detective.

Vespa was less willing, they caught her in the middle of disinfecting all of her scalpels. But even she wasn’t immune to Bee Bee’s charms, eventually playing her role with grudging grace. And Juno was able to get a quick whispered update on Nureyev’s check up, feeling a little better that it wasn’t just him and his husband who knew, that he had someone to offload all his anxiety on, the same anxiety he was trying to shield said husband from.

Even better, they ran into Rita in the kitchen and the game then swerved happily into the wildest corners of two vast imaginations, going off on a tangent that somehow involved werewolves, a falling moon and a galaxy wide ring of prolific glasses thieves (it turned out Rita had lost her pair too, though they did turn out to be perched on top of her head).

It was when Bee Bee was rolling happily around on the floor that she suddenly froze and squealed in triumph. She bounded up to the side table next to the old, sagging sofa, less than an inch from where Juno had been sitting earlier.

“Here! Here’s the glasses!”

Sure enough, there was a pair of cat eye spectacles on a silver chain resting there. Even Juno couldn’t raise much of a grump when he realised they’d been inches from their goal at the very start of the job. Some cases just worked out that way.

“We’ll have to take them back to your daddy, huh?” he panted, collapsing next to his daughter on the sofa. Somewhere along the way he’d picked up glitter on his black turtleneck, a rubber glove from the infirmary stretched over his head like a mad hat and one of Buddy’s scarves wound around his neck.

“Yes! And then get paid,” Bee Bee nodded, making Juno slightly nervous about what sort of payment she was going to demand. She’d asked to be paid in ice cream last time they’d played this game.

She plopped down next to her mama, leaning against his arm, adding more glitter to his favourite jumper, “Mama? I don’t think daddy is very happy right now. I think something’s up.”

Juno froze, “Uh...what makes you say that, kiddo?”

“Well…” Bee Bee wrinkled her nose, “He just seems...floppy. Always flopping on you and he looks pale and he doesn’t sleep good, mama. I think he’s sick.”

Juno tried to keep his face carefully neutral, “Your daddy’s fine, honey, I promise.”

“Hmm,” she replied, in that way she had that let him know she didn’t believe him in the slightest, “But it’s okay. Because we found his glasses and that’s gonna make him happy. And then we’ll help him more and we’ll do detective and find his happy.”

Juno relaxed, wrapping his arm around her, “Oh yeah?”

Bee Bee beamed and nodded, “Cos I’m the best detective ever! And mama helps!”

Juno sat back, laughing mostly to himself.

“You know what, kiddo? I thought I was pretty good but I think you really might be the best ever.”

#the penumbra podcast #juno steel #peter nureyev #jupeter #fluff #please reblog and comment if you like this!#tw: trans pregnancy

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pull-the-hoodie-strings · 3 years

Text

Family Dinner

My giftee for this years MSA Holiday Spirits ended up being @phantoms-lair! This was a lotta fun to write and I hope ya like it :D

My constant curse is making things too long but I think I managed this time.

Summary- After reuniting with Lewis with his family, the Peppers invited (read: insisted) that they all come over for a dinner like they used to.

"I just think it's too... formal."

Vivi was trying to be patient, she really was, but if Lewis changed his mind about what to wear one more time she was gonna lose it. It wasn't like the guy actually had to change clothes either. A flash of ghostly flames and he could go with whatever look he wanted. Normally Vivi would be all over that but the novelty had worn off a bit after the first six times.

"Lewis, babe," Vivi hopped up before he could switch again, grabbing onto his shoulders, "I promise you look great."

Despite the compliment Lewis just seemed to slump more. "Yeah?"

The sunny smile Vivi had managed dropped a bit then. Lewis had been a nervous mess all morning, not able to even sit still. They both knew it wasn't really about the outfit.

Vivi gave his shoulders a squeeze. "It's gonna be fine, Lew. They love you."

That got a frustrated noise out of him. "I know that but last time-" he trailed off, crossing his arms.

Last time was definitely... something. Obviously a big item on their to do list after Lewis rejoined the group was reconnecting with his family. The poor guy was terrified back then, barely able to keep hold of his human guise. Arthur and Vivi had gone in first, trying to prepare the Peppers a bit at least.

And then Lewis walked in.

The whole room had fallen fell deadly silent. Mrs Pepper had dropped the plate she'd been holding. Mr Pepper dropped to the ground himself. There was a lot of yelling and a lot of tears afterwards, the Peppers practically yanking their son into a bear hug.

The only wrinkle was Lewis's little sisters. Cayenne and Belle were a little wary of him now. Little Paprika spent most of the night hiding behind her older sisters, hardly looking at her brother. Lewis's death was the first big loss they'd experienced. Though he was thrilled to be able to see his family again, Vivi could see the disappointment in his eyes.

Now the Pepper's had invited (more like insisted) they all come to dinner tonight.

Lewis let out a sigh. "I don't wanna scare them, Vi."

"And you won't. They're probably confused, Lewis, you just gotta show 'em you're still their big brother." Vivi paused, thinking for a moment. "Plus once Cayenne figures out you can shoot fire out of your hands and everything..."

A snort. "That'd end with the restaurant burning down."

The mood a bit lighter now, Lewis settled on his usual human appearance, ascot and all. He was still fussing with the cuffs of his shirt as Arthur came downstairs.

"You guys ready?" Arthur's keys were jingling in his pocket, nervous smile on his face. Shooting a glance back to Lewis, Vivi nodded.

"As we'll ever be," she said, forcing a bit of the usual excitement into her tone for her boys. It only worked a little bit. The all piled into Arthur's van and then they were off. The drive to Pepper Paradiso was a quiet one. Arthur was glancing from the road towards the two of them occasionally while Lewis stared out of the window, fidgeting.

Vivi frowned, watching Lewis in the rearview mirror. Slowly, she asked, "Do you guys remember our prom night?"

Lewis frowned, meeting her eyes through the mirror. "Yeah? What part of it?"

"I think we had dinner at your parents restaurant, right?" Despite getting the important memories back, little bits and details were still hard to grasp sometimes.

"Yeah we did," Lewis leaned back into his seat. "We all just went together since we didn't have any dates."

Arthur snorted from the driver's seat. "That probably should've been a sign, considering."

"Yes, well," Lewis shrugged, "mom was ready to give both of you the shovel talk either way."

"What?" Arthur had paled a bit, glancing towards the back seat. "Dude that would be terrifying, don't tell me that right before we get there!"

"I'd say I'd protect you Arty," Vivi said as she patted his shoulder, "but Mrs. Pepper is a force to be reckoned with."

"She's not that bad," Lewis argued as they both gave an exaggerated shudder.

The banter petered off as they pulled in front of the restaurant. It was later in the day, the Peppers having closed earlier than usual so they could host the little dinner. Lights still shone out past the closed sign in the window. The restaurant had always been welcoming, almost a second home for them when they were younger. Now though? It wasn't foreboding exactly but the concept of trying to get that homey feeling again...

Arthur put the van in park, leaving it run as he turned in his seat. "Hey, we don't have to do this if you're not ready, big guy."

But the ghost was already shaking his head. "No. No I want to go. Besides, it's not like I can put this off forever."

Then Lewis was clambouring out of the van, Vivi and Arthur sharing a glance before following. The door to Pepper Paradiso swung open easily. Immediately the smells of food cooking hit them in the face carried on the warm air inside. The tables for regular customers were all bare, cleaned and ready for tomorrow. Vivi could hear distant voices from the kitchen.

Lewis seemed to freeze for a moment as the door shut behind them. Mr. Pepper heard them apparently, swinging open the door to the back and waving them on in. The kitchen was still on the smaller side just enough to serve the Pepper’s needs. Vivi remembered vaguely of Mr. Pepper waxing poetic about his dream renovation of the room. Set towards the back, past the ovens and countertops, was a larger table. A bit beat up over the years, they used it for dinners both with family, friends, and co-workers after long nights.

Mrs. Pepper was stood at the stove, sauteing vegetables. She gave them a small smile before turning and yelling up the stairs.

"Girls! Dinner is almost on, come down and set the table."

They were all roped into helping set up one way or another. Grabbing some more chairs, getting drinks, or in Lewis' case: hesitantly offering to help set the table.

By now the girls had arrived, glancing between Lewis and their parents. Lewis had a few plates in hand, hovering on the opposite end of the table. Vivi could see how tight he was clutching them halfway across the room. They'd already broken enough plates last time.

Finally, just as Lewis went to say something, Belle interrupted.

"It's your turn," she said softly.

Lewis blinked. "Huh?"

She pointed to the still empty table. "To set the table. It's your turn."

Cayenne hesitated a moment before nodding wisely. Lewis, meanwhile, looked like he was trying to do some math.

"I always set the table," he argued, baffled, "you guys just try and hide upstairs and Paprika is- was too short."

"Well you haven't done it in forever," Cayenne crossed her arms. "So you should do it the next like- twenty times. Plus the dishes."

For a moment all Lewis could do was stare. Then, as Vivi watched, he let out a small, disbelieving laugh. It built into one of those warm, deep laughs she loved to hear from him. The smile on his face was just as welcome.

"Right," he said with a nod. Even though his voice was shaky, the smile didn't dim. "Sure, twenty times at least."

"At least!" Cayenne made sure to emphasize that part.

Vivi smiled as she finished grabbing drinks, making her own way to the table. It wasn't perfect, not by a long shot, but they fell back into the familiar sort of sibling banter they used to have. She imagined Lewis would have to sit down with them sometime and explain a bit more but right now? Even little Paprika was smiling.

Cayenne pulled urgently on her sleeve and Vivi leaned down so the girl could whisper in her ear.

"Does his hair always do that now?" Cayenne excitedly pointed towards Lewis, whose pompadour was decidedly more wispy and fire like than before. He was half arguing and half laughing with Belle, who was currently trying to pawn off more chores onto him.

Vivi smirked, whispering back. "Only if you make him laugh."

"Cool," Cayenne said slowly.

Yeah, she thinks they're gonna be alright.

#msaholidayspirits2020 #Ot3 #a little bit anyway!#phantoms-lair #Lewis pepper #vivi yukino #arthur kingsmen #fluff #happy holidays!

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blackmissfrizzle · 4 years

Text

City Boy and His Country Girl

Characters: Erik x black!reader

Summary: Erik promises to help the reader navigate New York.

Request: "Country Girl goes to New York and meets a tough guy New Yorker who teaches her the ropes and then they get together"

Requested by @nervouspetsonanime

With a lot on your mind, you set your purse down on the table and went to refill your drink. The stress of the workday was getting to you and you were only midway through it. Before you went back to work you had to figure out a way to deal with some of your shady coworkers.

Making your way back to your booth, you saw two men standing there arguing. You were hesitant to go back and was about to find a new seat to avoid the scene but then you remembered your purse.

“Man, I’m telling you put that shit back or we gonna have a real problem here,” you heard, getting closer to the two.

“How about you mind your business?” The other guy asked, moving his arm behind his back. That’s when you noticed he had your purse in his hand. The dread head was trying to get this thief to put down your purse.

Noticing movement near him, your savior turned to you. Pointing to your bag, he asked, “Aye, lil mama is that your bag?”

Your mind short-circuited for a moment because of this man. He was so damn sexy. Tall, dark, and thick just like you liked em. He sorta reminded you of the guys back home except for the Oakland accent.

Finally, gathering your bearings you answered the man. “Yeah, that’s my bag and I don’t know why it’s in his hand.”

The Good Samaritan stared down the potential thief and pulled up his shirt to reveal his gun and v-cut you couldn’t keep your eyes off of. “You got 10 seconds to figure out if that purse is worth a hospital bill.”

Dropping your purse like a hot potato, the thief handed you your purse and ran out the restaurant. He wasn’t as tough as he thought.

“Next time don’t be leaving your shit hanging around.” The asshole told you before leaving.

Even though he was a little rude, you didn’t want him to leave. To stop him, you tried wrapping your hand around his bicep, but you were only able to cuff half of it. “At least let me buy you lunch as a thank you.”

He looked down at your hand and back to you. Quickly, you removed it, sensing he didn’t like being touched. “All right lil mama.”

His big body slid into the booth and you followed his suit. Stretching his hand across he introduced himself. “I’m Erik.”

“Y/N.” You took his hand to shake and his grip was tight, and you were thoroughly impressed. Your daddy always said you could tell a lot about a man by his handshake, especially when it was with a woman. A firm handshake with a woman said the man respected you, saw you as his equal.

“So, Y/N why you leaving your stuff where just any ole body can steal yo shit?” Erik took a sip of his drink and eyed you curiously.

Erik’s gaze made you hot and nervous. You had to train your eyes to look anywhere but him just to speak. “Well it wouldn’t have happened back at home and also my mind was elsewhere.”

The waitress brought both of your meals and y’all laughed at the identical plates, bacon cheeseburger with a side of onion rings.

“Ok then, what had you all messed up that almost got you robbed?”

Deciding you’ll probably never see this man again, you told Erik your office drama. “Basically, I’m the boss’ new favorite and my coworkers can’t stand it. God, sometimes I wish Tony Stark never found out about me.”

“Word? You work for Stark?” Erik raised an eyebrow, beginning to become more intrigued with this southern belle. He met Stark plenty of times before and respected his work as a scientist but couldn’t understand how someone could put up with him for hours on end.

“Yes sir,” you replied, making Erik shift in his seat at the mention of you using such a formal name for him. “My mentor who’s an old college buddy of Mr. Stark’s, sent my business management assignment to him and then the next morning, Mr. Stark was on my daddy’s porch offering me a job.”

Erik chuckled and stretched his fist out for you to dap him. He was proud of you, a black woman seemingly from a small town, working for the most renowned business mogul. “Oh, shit! That’s how you do it. Lemme guess your co-workers lack melanin?”

“Yes! And I really tried to work with them, but they hate my guts for whatever reason. But they have no problem taking credit for my ideas.” That’s why you were in a frenzy now. Cody (which btw was such a typical douchebag white boy name) pitched your idea of throwing a big gala to impress a fellow businessman for a potential partnership as his own to Mr. Stark and Ms. Potts. Then guess who he expected to do all the work? You, of course!

Finally getting the chance to vent felt good, so poor Erik had to hear all your frustrations. “And then don’t get me started on this stupid city. First off, people are rude! No one knows how to say excuse me and when I call someone ma’am, they look at me like I just called her a bitch. Second, rent is expensive! Thank you to sweet baby Jesus, for Mr. Stark hiring me, because I wouldn’t be able to afford living here. Do you know what kind of house I could buy back in Texas?”

Erik was amused at your rant. He enjoyed seeing you get all this passionate despite only knowing you for half an hour, so he decided to entertain you. “No, what kind?”

“A big ass house! Probably a ranch with all the damn animals already on it. And then this city has no good bbq. How is a girl suppose to live without some brisket!?”

Done with your rant, you took a bite on your burger and realized you just dumped your whole life story on a man who was basically a stranger. “I’m sorry, you had to hear all that. It just whenever I vent to my friends back home, they tell me I’m not appreciating this opportunity and I can’t tell my mama and daddy, because I’m paying their bills and I don’t want them to feel guilty.” Catching yourself offering up more information, you slapped your forehead. “Oh, there I go again oversharing. I’m sorry.”

Erik somewhat understood your situation. Adjusting to life in Wakanda was a culture shock and he had to figure out how to navigate in his father’s homeland. Grabbing the hand that hit your forehead, Erik massage it, focusing on the knuckles and the spaces between the fingers. “Nah, you good ma. But I do know what you need to do.”

“And what’s that,” you asked, leaned back amused.

“You need to toughen up, Texas.” Erik advised you.

Leaning on your elbows, you teased Erik with your own nickname. “Oh, really now? And how’s that gonna happen, Oakland?”

Immediately on the defense, scared that you were someone from his past, Erik asked, “How do you know I’m from Oakland?”

“Calm down, cowboy,” you patted his forearm to soothe him. “Your accent is a dead giveaway. You sound just like Marshawn Lynch.”

Erik kissed his teeth and crossed his arms. He liked Marshawn, even respected him, but when you mentioned him with practically heart eyes Marshawn became public enemy number 1. “That nigga a’ight. Anyway, imma toughen you up. Teach you how to survive these mean streets of New York and how to deal with these colonizers.”

Your eyebrows furrowed and you repeated Erik, “Colonizers?”

“White people,” he said as if he should understand his lingo.

“Oh okay, what a weird insult, but when do we start?” you asked anxiously, you were excited at the chance to spend more time with this diamond in the rough man.

“This weekend?” Erik tried his best to keep his cool, but he was so excited to see this country girl as soon as possible. He would’ve asked for tomorrow, but he didn’t want to come off clingy and he had too much work to do at the Outreach and Y/N would’ve been a major distraction.

Making yourself be still and hide your excitement, you replied, “That’s perfect. I had no plans but to do my laundry and catch up on some Netflix.”

Erik bit back a smile. “Cool. I gotta get back to the office, lil mama. Give me your number and you’ll hear from me very soon.”

You and Erik exchanged numbers. While you were putting your number in his phone, you didn’t notice Erik slyly pay the waitress for your meals. When you both were done exchanging numbers, you said your goodbyes and then Erik left, making you already crave his presence.

“Excuse me, miss, can I get the check?” You flagged down the waitress, digging into your purse for your wallet.

“Oh, your friend paid for it already. He said you had enough troubles today and that you didn’t need to worry about paying for him.” The young lady walked away and started cleaning your table as you stood there dumbfounded. Erik was a man full of surprises and you couldn’t wait to find out more.

Tagging: @twistedcharismaaa @marvelmaree @ladydragonpurplefire @l-auteuse @thehomierobbstark @titty-teetee @nerd-lovely @nervouspetsonanime @soufcakmistress @chaneajoyyy

#black!reader #erik stevens #erik stevens x reader #erik stevens x black!reader #erik x black!reader #erik x reader #killmonger x reader #killmonger x black!reader #erik killmonger #erik killmonger x reader #erik killmonger x black!reader #erik stevens fanfiction #marvel #marvel fanfiction #black panther fandom #black panther fanfiction #frizzlesfic #frizzlefic #city boy and his country girl series

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hihellogoodbyebruh · 4 years

Text

Just Me and You - Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Pairing: Rio Alvarez x Black!Plus size!Oc

Summary: Simone Dunn is a singer just trying to live her best life and make it through the obstacles that have been put in front of her. Living life in the city isn’t always easy. Life might be kicking her in the ass presently, but she kept a smile on her face regardless. Rio Alvarez is all about his business. He’s expanding up and out of just the money laundering business. He wanted it all. He was hooked from the second he heard her voice, but will her past and his enemies let them be together?

Warning(s): None really. It’s a meet-cute. They meet, it’s cute.

Word count: 2,026

Author’s Note: I’m not gonna lie, this story means a lot to me. I was never sure if I’d start posting it or not. Simone has been an OC of mine for a long time now and when the idea to pair her with Rio popped into my mind I knew it could be something very special. I hope you all enjoy the journey. As always questions, comments, and concerns are welcome! Might even start a tag list but we’ll see. Thanks for reading. xo

Rio stared out of the window, looking out at his investment. It had the perfect eye line for all the exits and it had the best view of the stage. Since he began flipping his game and moving up in the world he became acquainted with folks that had different tastes than him. The opportunity to invest in this club kind of fell in his lap. His new co-owner was a sloppy prick, but Rio couldn’t deny the club was bringing in a nice grip of money for him. He liked the anonymity of being a silent partner. Every two weeks he’d roll through, check up on the club, and collect some cash to put into his other businesses.

As he looked down at all the club goers, he was pleased to see the place was pretty packed. He was not happy to see the owner, Shaun, with two women on his arm. This wasn’t a social hour. He was here for business. Mick, his right hand man, was guarding the door and hadn’t moved an inch to let Shaun in.

“Hey man. Place is poppin tonight right?” Shaun greeted Rio as he tried to maneuver past Mick who only moved at Rio’s nod. “Enjoying your night? These are a couple lady friends of mine. Say ‘hi’ ladies.”

“Hi.” The two girls parroted at Rio, waving at him.

Rio didn’t bother greeting the women. “Get rid of the bitches man.”

“What?” Shaun asked, his tone confused.

“I ain’t gonna tell you twice.” Rio’s face hadn’t changed. He just stared Shaun down.

Shaun cleared his throat and whispered something to the ladies before they shuffled back out of the room. It was quiet except for the sound of the music pumping through the speakers.

“My bad man. They were sexy as hell though right? Can you really blame me?” Shaun tried to excuse, a smile on his face as he walked over to where Rio was standing.

As soon as he was within arms reach, Rio gripped the back of his neck tightly and pulled him close. He stared directly in his eyes. “Don’t ever bring nobody to one of our meetings again. I choose to keep you on, but that can easily be changed. Get my money and stop fucking playing with me.”

Shaun merely nodded and Rio let go of him. Shaun tried adjusting his suit and cleared his throat. He walked over to the wall that was furthest from the window and opened a panel in the door. He put the code into the panel and opened it up. There was a silver case inside that he pulled out before closing the door back. “Business has been better than ever. I was able to add a permanent residency here that has us packed every week. We may even be able to up prices a bit.”

Rio’s eyebrow quirked in interest at the man’s words. “Permanent residency?”

Shaun had set the case on the table and Mick opened it, starting to count the money that was inside. Rio walked closer to take a look inside and noticed that there seemed to be a couple more stacks than usual.

“Yeah. I’m still having different live performers come in, but people also like consistency. They like knowing they’re coming to hear quality music. And the pipes on this one? Massive. Doesn’t hurt that she’s gorgeous too.”

Rio would never admit it but he was definitely intrigued. “Who is she?”

Shaun walked back over to the window and smirked as he looked down. “Simone Dunn. Lucky for you, you came at the perfect time.”

Rio noticed the club music had shut off and people were clapping. As he walked to stand next to Shaun, a slow instrumental was playing. A soft spotlight appeared on the stage and the crowd’s clapping intensified. A giggle was heard over the mic.

“Aww, y’all are too good to me.” The woman’s voice was clear as day, but had an alluring quality. She had big black hair falling over her shoulders in waves. Her dress was pink and it gave a tantalizing view of her breasts as well as her full figure. Her skin was creamy brown and the outline of her ass was particularly appealing to Rio.

“We’re starting off grown and sexy tonight y'all. So if you’re vibing with someone, gon’ head and pull ‘em a little closer. I’m just tryna help y’all possibly end the night on a good note, if you know what I mean.” She winked at the crowd and people laughed as others hollered and whistled.

A familiar beat reached Rio’s ears, taking him back to house parties in his old neighborhood. He remembered talking slick to a fine girl as she danced on him, knowing she was gon let him fuck by the end of the night.

I'll always think of you Inside of my private thoughts I can imagine you Touching my private parts And just the thought of you I can't help but touch myself That's why I want you so bad Just one night of

The sultry sound of her voice traveled from Rio’s ears straight to his dick. He watched as her hips moved side to side as she gripped the mic stand. She was a temptress, an enchantress. Hell, she was a siren and her song was the one calling him home. Home being the absolute treasure he was sure is hiding between her thighs.

Can't get my mind off you I think I might be obsessed The very thought of you Makes me want to get undressed I want to be with you In spite of what my heart says I guess I want you too bad All I want is

Her eyes were locking onto different people in the crowd. She was working her magic on everyone. People were partnered up and there was lots of grinding happening on the dance floor. As she looked around, her eyes happened to dart up and land on his. She looked taken aback, but curious. She never once stopped singing and now it seemed like she was singing the words directly to him.

“She’s a beauty, ain’t she?” Shaun asked, but Rio ignored him. His eyes were still locked with Simone’s as she sang. A smile pulled at her lips and her cheeks felt hot so she pulled her eyes away from him to look back toward the crowd. She missed the quick smile that appeared on Rio’s face before he turned his back to the window.

“Have you had any trouble here? Fights? Anyone tryna shake you down?” Rio asked Shaun, who looked perplexed by the sudden topic shift.

“No. I would have called you right away. Like I said, things have been great. Should I be worried or on the lookout?” Shaun asked, his tone taking on a nervous quality.

“Nah, man. Just looking out for my investment. Enjoy your night with your lady friends.” Rio dismissed the other man and Shaun took the exit without hesitation.

“You think they know you got dealings in this place?” Mick asked, once Shaun was gone.

“No, but you can never be too careful.” Rio replied, eyes drifting back toward the stage. She had begun singing a new song. Something a bit more fast paced. “I wanna keep this place as legit as possible. We need something clean in case we run into some trouble. But I aint scared of them. I’ll deal with ‘em when the time’s right.”

Mick merely nodded his head as he finished up the count.

“Everything square?” At Mick’s confirmation, Rio walked over to him. “Go ahead and take everything back to the warehouse. Imma stay and check things out for a bit. Have a drink. I’ll call you in the morning.”

Rio headed down to the bar and got himself a shot of brandy. He nursed his drink as he finished listening to the performance going on. He was in the middle of texting some associates to set up meetings for the next week when applause broke out all around him. He looked up to see Simone walking towards the bar, blowing kisses as she went.

“Ji, baby! Please get me one last malibu pineapple and I’ll love you forever.” She exclaimed, taking a seat one away from Rio. He was watching her interaction with the bartender.

“You better already love me.” The bartender, Ji-hoon, retorted even as he went about making her drink.

“You know I do boo.” She winked, a wide grin on her face. “In fact, I love you so much that I’m leaving you a big tip tonight.”

“Are you trying to buy me? Cause I’m absolutely up for sale.” He smiled, sliding her drink over to her as he leaned on the bar. He glanced over at Rio and nodded his head towards him. “Hey, you need to be topped off?”

“Yeah, man.” Rio answered and Simone finally noticed him sitting there. Ji poured Rio another drink before getting distracted on the other side of the bar by other paying customers.

Simone made eye contact with him before looking down at her drink and swishing the glass around.

“You have a beautiful voice, mama.”

“Thank you. I appreciate that.” She looked up at him with a smile on her face.

“Interesting choice of song too. I know a couple people here gotta be happy about the assist you gave them.”

She laughed and shook her head. “Anything for my fans.”

“Anything?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Within reason.” She quickly added.

“So you’ll let me buy your drink, then.”

It was her turn to raise an eyebrow and she turned around in her stool to face him, legs crossed and her silver heels shining. “So you’re a fan?”

“I am now.”

“I’ve had an open tab all night and I just promised Jian a big tip.”

“Okay.” He shrugged, and her eyes narrowed.

“And what do you want in return for so graciously picking up my tab?”

A smirk appeared on Rio’s face and he slid one bar stool over to be closer to her. Their eyes never left one another. “I’d love to have a conversation with one of the sexiest women I’ve ever seen in my life.”

Her lights lit up in surprise and delight at his words. That soft smile of hers, returning to her face. “I guess I could swing that. So what’s your name?”

“It’s Rio, sweetheart. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Rio….I like it. I see you’re familiar with Shaun. Y’all friends or something?”

“Or something.” He answered, taking a sip of his drink.

“Or something. That’s not mysterious at all.” She joked.

“I aint no mystery baby. What you see is what you get.”

She snorted. “That’s what they all say.”

“Who?”

“Boys.” She retorted, finishing her drink.

“I’m all man and I’d love to demonstrate just how much of a man I am.”

She looked back over to him and there was a delicious smirk on his face. No one man should be able to look like that. It’s too much power. “Tempting, but I have plans.”

“At 2 in the morning?” He asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

“Is that judgment I hear in your tone Mr. ‘I-Can’t-Say-How-I-Know-Shaun?’”

Rio had to chuckle. “You got me there.”

She checked her phone and sighed at the time. “I gotta go, but it was nice meeting you Rio. Hope to see you again.” She then asked Ji-hoon to hand her the bag that was hidden behind the bar.

“You will.” He asserted, wondering why she didn’t use the employee lockers he remembered being installed. The thought was erased from his mind by her leaning into his personal space. His hand immediately went to her waist and his fingers grazed the top of her ass.

“I’m counting on it.” She whispered in his ear, before walking away and waving at a couple people as she went. He watched her the whole time and it wasn’t until she reached the exit that she turned her head to look back at him. He knew he had her.

#rio good girls #good girls rio #black!oc #rio x black!oc #black!reader #rio x black reader #rio x plus size!reader #just me and you #hhgbyebruh fics

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whiskey-bumblebee · 4 years

Text

I Want Candy

Pairing: Pale/Reader

Word Count: 1953

Year: (after Raw, before Vacation)

A/N: This one is a little bit sad but nothing awful. Extensive discussion of Pale being a father (not related to reader) consistent with character’s backstory. Mostly plot, sorry! Mentions of condom-tampering by Pale’s ex.

You’d noticed Pale buying things that were a little out of the ordinary for him. Twizzlers? Sure he’d bought them once or twice when he was stressed, but pop rocks? Skittles? Fun dip?

Then you noticed the packing tape, the little boxes he’d been buying. Most curious of all, sheets of thick cardboard. And marbles.

One night, you got up for a drink of water and found him in the kitchen, bent over the island as he measured out some cardboard.

“Pale?”

“Jesus fuck!” Pale breathed your name as he turned around and saw it was you. You leaned to the side, trying to see around him.

“Look, I didn’t wanna say anything but... What’s happening?”

Pale cleared his throat and stretched out his back, leaning side to side. Must have been leaning over for a while.

“Uh, you remember my kid, right?”

You nodded.

“With Halloween coming up, he’s not allowed any candy and I thought I’d send him some. Not fair if all his friends get to go trick or treating and he doesn’t, you know? His mom, she’s uhh... Not a very nice lady. Kid deserves a chance to get all shot up with sugar now and again. Part of growin’ up.”

You squinted, eyes adjusting to the light in the kitchen after being asleep for a while.

“So the marbles?”

Pale nodded and gestured for you to look. “I put false bottoms in all the little boxes I send him. The post office doesn’t give a shit because it’s clearly candy right? Hell, even if it was heroin, they’d probably let it through. Anything going New York, Miami ain’t worth their trouble. So, the story is that my kid is having a marbles phase. But the good marbles are the ones that aren’t common in Miami. Gotta come from Canada, that part’s true. So I get them shipped here cos they don’t ship Toronto to Miami, only Toronto across the border. Also true.”

“Hang on, so your kid’s having a marbles phase?”

“Nah, that part’s bullshit. He’s smart, made that bit up, found a company in Toronto that makes good marbles, according to his friends, now he’s got a perfect excuse for getting a bunch of packages from me. Marbles go in and out real fast, who knew?”

You smiled and rested your head on Pale’s back. “He’s like you then, huh? Smart, resourceful. Gonna have to watch out when he gets old enough to work in the restaurant industry.”

He turned around and wrapped you in his arms. “You think I’m smart?”

“Mhm. Einstein level shit, all the logistics you do.”

Pale let you go and turned back to the packages. “Been doing it for a week or two now so he can start a decent stockpile under his bed or wherever the fuck.”

“You wanna send him a big one for Halloween?”

Pale worked for a moment, considering what you’d said.

“I don’t know how we’d get away with it. Mom’s Catholic, she isn’t big into Halloween. Devil’s work and all that. Apparently she only likes holy spirits, not just the regular spirit schmucks. Poor guys. Reckon they get that kinda discrimination from a lotta folks.”

You chuckled tiredly, then yawned. “I gotta get back to bed. Do this during the day, alright? Ain’t gotta hide from me.”

“Baby,” Pale turned around and took your hand. “It ain’t that. Well, I didn’t wanna upset you by talking ‘bout her, but it ain’t that. Angel, I just ain’t got time during the day. By the time I get home, my eyes are shot from being up so long. Hands are shakin’ from holding a knife, or grippin’ the steering wheel. Gotta rest for a bit before I’m good to go again.”

Sadness fell over your face, you felt it. Your eyebrows drawing together, frown pulling at your chin. “Pale...” You stroked your hands over his hair, gathering the hair at his temples and pushing it back.

He kissed your palms. “C’mon, I’ll come back to bed with ya. You can cut the things for the bottom of the boxes, you got littler hands that’ll actually fit in the fuckin’ scissors.”

“Pale, you know the thing you did before you met me? Before you had your current job?”

“Can’t say it out loud, dollface, but yeah.”

“Did you ever do it in Miami?”

“Yeah, real good at it too. Cops are slow over there. Fuckin’ alcoholics.”

“Are there any guys you trust enough to let them near your house?”

“Yeah. Couple of guys came over a few times, said they were friends from work. Trusted ‘em with my life.”

“Any one in particular come to mind?”

Without skipping a beat, Pale nodded. “Ethan.”

You nodded.

“What are you getting at, huh?” Pale glanced at you for a moment, away from the road.

“Just thinkin’. What if we made that Halloween package for your son, got Ethan to deliver it early in the morning or something? Leave it somewhere he knew to look?”

Pale was quiet for a while, then slowly began to nod. “That’ll work. I can call Ethan, tell him there’s a package I wanna send to the house. He won’t ask questions. I’d do the same for him. Then call the kid and tell him where to look.”

It was childlike, the fun you had with Pale putting the gift together, assembling candy in all the colors of the rainbow into an altogether excessive box. You only wished you could see the look on his face when he opened it. The thought sent a twang of pain through your chest. If you wanted to see his reaction, how bad did Pale wanna see it?

“Pale?”

“Yeah?”

“When’s the last time you saw him?”

Pale drummed his fingers across the coffee table, expressing a guilt he couldn’t name out loud, allowing the feeling to bubble out of him through his hands. Maybe that’s why he liked the piano.

“When I left Miami.”

You swallowed and nodded. It wasn’t the right time to ask.

“Terrible dad, huh?” Pale was turning inward, caving into his ribcage so he felt like he didn’t have to look at you.

“Pale, terrible dads wouldn’t be sitting here, making a beautiful little box of candy to send all the way to Miami. A terrible dad wouldn’t be staying up all night shipping candy hidden in boxes of marbles.”

You shuffled across the carpet and rested your head on your shoulder and your hands on his thigh.

“Thanks angel. Just a terrible husband then?”

You huffed a laugh and kissed his cheek. “Yeah. I’ll let you have that. I’m sure she’s a worse wife than you’re a bad husband. I guess good husbands don’t fuck girls from Manhattan.”

“Girl from Manhattan,” Pale corrected. “If she had any lady parts left she’d be doing the same thing, someone from Jacksonville. Fuckin’ shame they’ve all turned to dust.”

You laughed and turned your face into Pale’s shoulder. “What’s his name? What’s he like?”

Pale shook his head. “I’m not a good dad, never had the whole moment where I fell in love with him. He’s alright-looking, mostly looks like her, but he’s got my nose I think. He’s a math kid. His name’s Joseph, I call him Joe. Typical of her to call him something like Joseph. Surprised she didn’t go with a saint name.”

He lifted the box. “Jesus, this is heavy. I think we’re done. Wanna help me do the ribbon?”

You nodded and pressed on the lid, hovering your finger over the ribbon as he tied the bow.

“I love you Pale.”

He looked at you when he finished adjusting the bow. “Yeah?”

You nodded. He nodded.

“I love you too. Know I don’t say it often enough, but I do. Love you more than anyone else I’ve ever known. And, uh, it’s nice. Not doing Halloween and everything alone. It’s hard sometimes when kids come knocking and there’s a kid with a little mop ‘a hair that looks like him.”

“I wanna kiss you so bad,” You breathed.

He smiled and ran the pad of his thumb over your chin. “The girl from Manhattan wants to kiss me huh?”

You nodded, smiling like a lovestruck fool. Smiling as a lovestruck fool.

“C’mere then.”

brrrrriiiiiiiiiinngggg

“You expecting a call, angel?” Pale mumbled into your skin.

You nodded and yawned. “Pick it up for me?”

Pale picked up the phone.

“Pale speakin’ but you’ve reached me and my girl, how can I help ya?”

You rolled your eyes with a laugh, then watched Pale, waiting for a reaction.

“Joseph?”

“C’mon Dad, you know I don’t like my big name.”

Pale looked over at you, tears in his eyes. He took your hand in his and held it tightly.

“Happy halloween bud. Figured mom wouldn’t want you to go trick or treating so I went for ya. Hope you don’t mind.”

“Do I ever! Thanks dad, you’re the best!”

“Everything looks good? Nothing you don’t like?”

“I don’t like sweet tarts but everything else looks so good.”

“That’s good, kid. You gotta go to school or something?”

“Yeah, I got about five minutes before the bus comes. The girl at your place said I should call if I had time.”

“Thanks Joe. It’s good to hear your voice. You got a phone in your room now?”

“Yeah, my friends all have them and we call when the weather’s bad and we can’t play outside.”

“I should call you more often then, huh?”

“Mom said you’re too busy.”

Pale scowled.

“Never too busy to catch up with ya. Listen, call me whenever it suits you, right? If I ain’t home then the lady can chat with ya and let you know when to call back.”

“What’s her name? She nice?”

Pale spoke your name so reverently you felt like a goddess.

“She’s great. She wants to meet ya sometime.”

“That mean you’re gonna come to Florida?”

“We’ll see, no promises it’ll be soon, but sometime.”

“I miss you, dad. It’s funny, I don’t even know what you look like anymore. You could have grey hair like an old man.”

Pale carded a hand through his hair and grinned. The movement sent the tears welling in his eyes streaming down his cheeks.

“Hey, have some respect for your old man, huh? My hair’s still black, eyes are still brown. Is your nose still crooked from when you broke it playing football?”

There was a pause. You could imagine Joseph tracing his nose with a finger.

“A little. There’s still a-”

A pause again.

“Sorry dad, I gotta go. Bus is here.”

“See ya, Joe. Have a good day.”

“Bye!”

The receiver clicked.

Pale pulled you close to him and pressed his face into your chest.

“You see any grey hairs?”

You kissed his hair. “None. Still sexy as ever.”

“You hear what he said? You’re the best.”

“He isn’t wrong.” You ran your fingertips over Pale’s shoulders. “You’re a good dad, Pale.”

Pale hummed. “I wish I’d had a kid with you instead.”

“You know I don’t really want kids.”

Pale huffed a laugh. “I don’t either. I like Joe, but he wasn’t meant to happen. She poked a hole in the condom we used and it ripped. She told me the truth about it when she went into labor. Said it was her duty to have kids, even if I didn’t want them.”

“I’m so sorry,” You breathed. “That’s terrible.”

He sat up and shrugged. “Just wish you’d done it instead, wish I met you first. I’d stick around if it was you.”

You nodded with a soft smile. “I’d stick around too.”

#pale x reader #pale/reader #pale #pale burn this #burn this #burn this lanford wilson #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #self insert #my writing #whiskey bumblebee halloween extravaganza #pale x you #pale/you #pale one shot #pale imagine

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