#also I love how the article never even mentions his first name | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

morallyinept · 7 months

Text

Writing For Ezra - An Overall Analysis Of Our Favourite Scoundrel’s Articulation.

I often see writers mention in their blog/fics that they’re worried or concerned about writing for Ezra because of his loquacious nature. As a fanfic writer it can be daunting to translate an already loved character into your works, without trying to alter their main personality trait. In this case, it’s Ezra’s way of talking that is his standout mannerism and the reason why so many have a soft spot for him.

So, I got to thinking and put together this, somewhat, deep dive into him and his talkative ways. I hope it proves useful for anyone tackling him for the first time (myself included), or even for the experienced Ezra writers already here, who are already killin' it. 🖤

If this is beneficial to you in any way, please kindly re-blog, and also tag me in any Ezra works you write because of it. I’d love to read your work and feature it on my Ezra fic recs list for others to enjoy too.

⚠️This will contain spoilers for Prospect, so if you haven’t watched it yet, then you might want to save this for later.

Ezra’s accent is Southern.

Ezra’s accent has been likened to a Texan accent with a side of ham. Ham meaning someone who enjoys performing or behaving in an exaggerated style. Not the pig meat. 🐷 And his accent and voice certainly does have that hamminess about it. Back in the day, approximately around 1882, the term ‘ham-fatter’ was used referring to a poor person who overacted. It was then shortened to just ham.

It was Pedro Pascal himself who gave this specific accent to Ezra. Although it is not confirmed in the film where exactly Ezra hails from, he is confirmed human. In the Prospect-verse there is no mention of Earth as we know it, but that’s not to say it doesn't exist or isn’t referred to by another name. The closest being Camrea or Lau in terms of similarities of planets with land and water. So there is a good chance that his accent stems as a direct result of his heritage from either Earth itself, or a planet just like it in The Fringe.

In the deleted scene with Ezra and Cee, Ezra reveals he has a brother. This is the only personal information we get from Ezra - and it was deleted.

Ezra says in the scene where he encounters Damon for the first time, "me and my partner feel we both deserve... satisfaction."

If you didn’t know already, the term ‘deserve satisfaction’ stems from the 17th century where duels were mostly single combats fought with swords. But then in the 18th century, the swords were commonly replaced with pistols. You’ve heard of the term ‘pistols at dawn’ right? Well to demand satisfaction means to restore one’s honour by demonstrating a will to risk one’s own life for it. Again, this originates from the Southern states of America, during such times where duels were prevalent.

Damon and Number Two actually have a duel-type shootout, which is how Damon dies (aside from Ezra putting him out of his misery).

So yes, Ezra is, in fact, a Texan space cowboy of sorts. 🤠

Edit: Whilst I can only find one source that states Ezra has a "Texan" accent (and it's a film review article, so not based in fact), many argue that he sounds Louisianan more than Texan. Either way, he's definitely Southern, so you can make your own mind up on where he hails from originally, as it's never actually confirmed. 👇🏻

Source of Article

Yes, Ezra is a rambler, but pay attention to the frequency of his actual rambling.

It would be easy to overdo it on the flowery language when writing for Ezra.

The fact that Ezra throws in some words that are not commonly used in everyday conversation, doesn't mean that he does it ALL the time. Try not to fall into the habit of writing paragraphs of archaic and wordy language, when sometimes a simple sentence is sufficient for him to get his point across.

Here are some examples where he speaks with simplicity in the film:

“How poetic.”

“The starter, if you don't mind.”

“Funny, I don’t see any mercs. Where are they?”

“This is so exciting.”

“You friendly with these fellas?”

“You got a field kit?”

“It seems I must.”

“Keep it creamy and it’ll be fine.”

See? Short and snappy sentences.

What’s in a name?

Names are important to Ezra; he uses names as a gentle threat. When he comes across Damon for the first time, he uses his name almost constantly:

“Nice to meet you, Damon. I'm Ezra.”

“Where’re you from, Damon?”

“Alright, Damon.”

“Damon, it has truly been a pleasure, but pleasantries pass, it’s time to get candid…”

“So how did you get here, Damon?”

“The starter, if you don't mind. Where is it? Don't make me root for it, Damon.”

“But Damon, if there is talk of the Queen’s lair, the excitement is momentary.”

“Damon, I have clearly underestimated you, I must stop doing that.”

“Damon… does this mean that the plan is off? You have me all hot and bothered up over the Queen’s lair, Damon.”

“It's a shame, Damon.”

Ezra uses Damon’s name 11 times in just the first few minutes of meeting him and his untimely death. A name is important for Ezra to gain the upper hand and to subtly manipulate and appear menacing, more so than he probably is. It’s also done to grab the attention of Damon constantly; to ensure that Damon’s focus is directly on him by mentioning his name continuously.

Later, when Cee won’t give Ezra her name despite him asking for it repeatedly, you can see the frustration this causes within him. Because he has no way of gaining influence over her without it.

He refers to her instead as “little bird, birdie, girl & oi, number 3.”

When he does eventually learn her real name, he uses it only once.

“Nice to meet you, Cee.”

He doesn’t use it again for the duration of the film as their relationship has evolved into an unspoken, mutual trust. Something he did not have with Damon and therefore used his name repeatedly as a way of asserting dominance over him.

☝🏻So, if you’re writing Ezra, don’t forget to use names in abundance, like he does. Especially if he doesn’t trust or like them.

Double Entendres.

Pay close attention to the possible hidden meanings inside Ezra’s words too. This might not be deliberate, but his face when he speaks and says certain things hints at a devilish playfulness about him.

A particular scene that stood out to me is when Ezra and Cee are at the Queen’s lair.

Ezra says, “somebody ought to give her a go… That's the price for a dry breach. My chem will calm the brine.”

Now, if you’ve a dirty mind like me, (😜 ha!) A dry breach could be interpreted as ‘a dry pussy’ and his chem is ‘his semen’ that will calm it, or moisten it up as it were. 😏 I like that he can speak with a double meaning, if you're looking for it, but of course this is subjective.

So, dirty talk from Ezra doesn’t always have to be directly on the nose.

Some more subtle examples are:

“Hello, sweetheart.”

“Hold it like you love it.”

“Slippery son of a bitch.”

His tone also changes when he wants to emphasise a point. When the Saters give him and Cee the juice in their tent, Ezra can sense Cee’s reluctance to drink it.

He knows it tastes bad, yet urges Cee to drink it, without insulting his hosts who he knows could be dangerous. His face changes; his features become sharper and serious as he says "it's good for you, cleanses the dust."

Only moments before he was smiling and jovial. 👇🏻

Cussing.

Ezra never swears, in the conventional sense, for just the sake of it. I get the impression he would find that kind of language lazy. Cussing/swears are saved purely to express his frustration or fear in the situation.

“Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh Shit. Oh Shit. Oh Shit.” - (Yes, 6 times he says it!) When he loses his arm. - Fear

“Slippery son of a bitch… No, no, no. Ah shit.” - When he's mining the Aurelac husks. - Frustration

When mining for the Aurelac where he can’t separate the gem from the blister due to his physical impairment of only having one arm, Ezra mumbles a long string of unintelligible words in frustration.

Despite listening to the audio over and over, I can’t fully decipher it, but some words I pulled out were: “cob spitters(?)... can fuck more nuggets(?)... in this sleep for snatch(?)…”

Who knows exactly what he is saying here, (if you know, lemme know) but he rambles quickly and incoherently when he swears; especially when frustrated.

He likes to fill the silence.

When walking with Damon, he keeps conversation flowing by questioning Damon about the corporate expeditions, and with Cee, he tells her about the channel rats. He seemingly can’t abide silence.

And this is prevalent when he first meets Damon, he says “I can't tell you how refreshing it is… hoo… to encounter another talker.”

It’s safe to say Ezra likes to talk. If you’ve not already grasped that yet. So make that ramblin' man chatter away.

Ezra's redemption shifts his language too.

Ezra fully admits he is not a good man to Cee. He does this first by blaming the way of life that they are thrust in.

“Why should I trust you? You stole from us. We did nothing to you.”

“That's The Fringe, girl.”

Later he confirms coldly he is indeed a killer when Cee tells him so.

“You’re a killer.

“I am. But are you?”

As time goes on, Ezra realises he is at fault for the death of Cee’s father.

“Well you can't... you can't think like that. If you go down that path. It's not good. If you need someone to blame, you blame me.”

You can see the shift in his language from being blunt and to the point in the beginning, to more accepting and gentler later on. Full character transition.

He also refers to Cee as his partner, rather than his daughter, when he is impersonating Damon to the mercs later on. His choice of words here is interesting.

This indicates he thinks more highly of her than he lets on; that she is equal to him. He soon thinks less of the Aurelac - the sole reason why he is on the moon - and more so of getting off the moon intact with Cee beside him. A complete metamorphosis from when we first meet him, and he's stealing Aurelac from Damon.

“You are not understanding me.”

“I say the terms have changed.”

“You’ll find a way if you want that buried treasure.”

“A ride for me and my partner on your handsome craft, or no deal.”

Actions speak louder than words.

Ezra’s movement is interesting, as too is the violence he engages in - it’s slick.

He slices the Achilles Heel first of the merc at the Queen's lair, thus rendering him unable to fight back or run for assistance from the others before ploughing him face first into the acidic hole.

Despite only having one arm, Ezra’s strength is still pretty impressive. He’s quick, experienced and brutal. And not opposed to fighting dirty to ensure his survival.

Ezra also has excellent aim with the thrower; he kills another merc with only one shot, and in the dark too. That’s pretty kick-ass when you think about it.

Describing not only his language, but also the way Ezra moves in your writing, will really make him leap off the page when you write him. Be that in an action sequence, or completely fucking you up between the sheets. 🫠

A man of few words in the end.

Ezra’s last words are for Cee:

“You grab the gun and you go. You can make it. Get outta here.”

He’s fully aware of his impending fate at this point and has accepted it. He doesn’t say anything else, not even when she comes back for him, suggesting their bond now doesn’t need a spoken word to cement it. It’s transcended verbal communication.

Even when in the safe confines of the pod ascending up to the sling back, Ezra doesn’t say anything, even though you can see he is awake.

☝🏻In the end, words are not always needed. Sometimes it's the things he doesn't say that has the most impact.

So there we have it, Prospectors. I hope this was helpful and insightful to you about writing for Ezra and how he talks.

He is my favourite Pedro Boy, and despite feeling that I know him pretty well as a character, the thought of writing him still brings me out in a cold sweat to some degree… 😬 So I can understand if you feel daunted by it too.

There are so many wonderful works already out there that are written fantastically and really captures the essence and the personality of Ezra. And if you’re thinking about writing for Ezra for the first time, please don’t be put off by it - he’s such a great character who can be thrust into so many different scenarios, and of course, you can also mould him to be your own creation.

That’s the great thing with fanfic and head canon - there are no rules. We all interpret characters differently. And that’s what makes reading about them so fun.

If you haven’t seen Prospect yet, I highly recommend it. Check out the Ezra deleted scene here too.

Also check out my Ezra specific fic rec list for further enjoyment of this dashing rogue from other writer’s points of view.

Ezra Thesaurus:

Loquacious. Flowery. Tincture. Drawl. Husk. Gravel. Gabble. Wordy. Babbling. Long-winded. Effusive. Droning. Garrulous. Gibberish. Multiloquous. Yakking. Muttering. Mumbling. Voluble. Cadence. Trib. Rambling. Glib. Clucking. Gregarious. Windy. Verbose. Prolix. Articulate. Fluent. Mouthy. Vocal. Opinionated. Drole. Gassy. Eloquent. Stylised. Chatterer. Logorrhoea. Word Vomit. Incessant. Spit-balling. Bleating. Clacking. Blabbermouth. Windbag. Motormouth. Harping On. Overzealous. Enthused. Mirthed. Crude. All Around The Houses. Effulgent. Airy-Fairy. Prattling. Harpsichord. Waxing Lyrical. Recounting. Din. Tone. Note. Music.

🖤

GIFS used by @uuuhshiny @perotovar @nicolethered @iamasaddie @pedgito 🖤

#ezra prospect #prospect ezra #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal #ezra is my fav #writing ezra #hints & tips #ezra (prospect)#ezra x reader #ezra prospect x reader #writing advice #writing tips #helpful advice for writing #character writing #writing

280 notes · View notes

the-kr8tor · 6 months

Note

hi, darling! I come to make my contribution for the fluffy fridays, so here's my proposal: Hobie has a crush with a girl who works in a clothing store and even though he is extremely cool, confident and has very good chemistry, he still doesn't know how to ask her out. There is a colleague of Reader who makes Hobie a little jealous when he hears invite her to the movies, however, it is Reader who decides to ask Hobie out at the end of her turn.

—🫀

Thank you for requesting! Muah 😘

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, Fluff.

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

Hobie slides over to your station, hands casually in his pockets, looking like one of the models on the store's posters, if you didn't know any better, you'd think he crawled out of one of them. You beam up at him, day brightened by his mere presence. The rack full of punk worthy clothes, shakes slightly when Hobie leans over it, draping his arms laying flat over the metal, head resting over the back of his hands.

"Hello there, loyal customer, what can I do for you?" You use your 'retail voice' but your full grin makes your greeting genuine.

You both know he's not just a customer to you, ever since he accompanied a friend of his to look for an article of clothing, he's been coming over almost everyday with a different excuse each time.

"Need to find a gift for a mate of mine" or "lookin' for a specific pair of socks" or even a "just browsin'" and every time he would leave empty handed, well except for information about you. First time you both exchanged names, second it was your interests until you two are having casual banter like you've known each other for years. Your co-workers have pointed it out to you multiple times, telling you the chemistry between you and Hobie was overflowing with romantic tension.

One of these days the dam will break, the question is who will break it first?

"Just lookin'" Hobie smirks, knowing the tension between you is so thick you need a chainsaw to cut it.

"You can come up with something better than that" you mirror his teasing smile, hands absent-mindedly folding t-shirts.

"Right, let me start again" He stands up straight, dramatically clearing his throat. "Just lookin' for you. Better?"

You chuckle, "much" eyes sparkling, Hobie goes back to his previous position over the clothing rack, twin smiles over your lips, he watches you fold shirts like it's the most interesting thing in the world.

A co-worker and friend of yours has had enough of your longing stares and flirty comments. He takes matters into his own hands with the intention to finally get you two together, or at least get one of you to ask the other out on a date.

He saunters over, a blue eyed blondie with curls worthy of a modeling contract. He's handsome enough to make anyone jealous.

"Hi Jason, you need something?"

Hobie's eyes never leave your form, Jason puts on his best charm for his plan to work.

"Yeah, you" He gives you his best smile that could rival any magazine model out there. Hobie only spares him a glance.

You raise an eyebrow at him, "Manager need me?"

"Nope, I was gonna ask if you're free on Saturday. So are you free?" Your eyes widen, especially your relationship with him is completely platonic, not to mention he's in a serious relationship with his long time boyfriend. You have no idea what's gotten to him.

Hobie sucks in a breath, tucking his hands inside his pockets, "have to go, love." You move your neck lighting quick. "See you" He walks away, giving you a small smile on his way out.

"Hobie–" trying to reach him but it's too late, he's already outside of the store. You look at your friend questionably, pinching his arm. "What the hell was that?" You whisper yell.

"What?" Jason shrugs innocently, "you needed a push"

"Now he thinks I'm into you! I don't even know if he feels the same way"

"Babes, trust me he fancies you. Maybe he also needs the push" he points at the door using his chin. "Go get your man, I'll cover you"

"I hate you so much right now, I had a plan!" You're already speed walking towards the exit.

"No you don't! And you owe me big time!"

The bell rings as you leave the store, eyes adjusting to the light, you squint around, looking for his familiar form. You finally spot him on the other side of the street, but the pedestrian stop light has turned red, cars whizz past as Hobie walks further away.

"Fuck!" You bounce on the balls of your feet, the seconds tick past but not fast enough. You can barely see Hobie from where you're standing, biting your lip, you spot an opening.

You run as fast as you can, feet landing on the other side of the sidewalk, a car almost clipping you. Ignoring their angry honking, you continue to go after Hobie.

Exhaling, you finally reach him, skidding to a stop, almost bumping into him. Hobie turns around at the sudden presence. Blinking in surprise.

"Hobie! I almost died!"

"You alright?" Hobie takes you by the shoulders, his hold tender and caring. You beam up at him through the fog of adrenaline.

"Better than alright" you say breathlessly, fingers twitching to hold him too.

"What are you doin' here?" He peeks behind you, anticipating for your co-worker to come running after you. Hobie finds no one, more questions appear in his mind.

"Looking for you" grinning, you pull him towards you by his belt loop. He smiles at your bluntness. "Go out with me?" You blink in a sudden rush of shyness. "Only if you want to"

"Will blondie be there?" He doesn't miss the opportunity to tease you.

"Do you want him to come with?" You quip back with a laugh. Hobie snorts at your joke.

"He doesn't have to, bet he'll feel like a third wheel." He slides his hand up, cupping the back of your neck softly.

"You're right about that. Offer still stands for you though"

"As long as it's far from the shop."

"I've already got a place in mind" you smile wider.

"You beat me to it, y'know I was 'bout to ask you first" his thumb draws circles over your skin that feels like hearts to you.

"Yes or no, Hobie" you feign annoyance.

He rolls his eyes, grinning through it all. "Yes"

You kiss his cheek, nose bumping on his jaw. "Can't wait"

362 notes · View notes

bloodynereid · 29 days

Text

Those Sunlit Kisses

part 2 here ! part 3 here! and part 4 here!

pairing: robert 'rosie' rosenthal x oc (lucy everett)

tw: mentions of war, alcohol drinking, death, mentions of nazis and hitler, domestic fluff, flirting, kissing, angsty ending-ish

description: a young man and woman meet while they're on a forced break and end up spending a weekend together.

a/n: so... this fic has sort of invaded my life these last few days and it's longer than i thought it would be (12k is insane). i've sort of become attached to it in a weird way ??? idk when you write something as a coping mechanism it sticks with you. i sort of have a plan for how this universe will work so there will probably be a few little fics that happen within it, look out for those! also this was lowkey inspired by before sunrise (haven't watched it but i've seen enough edits) and since we know real rosie fell in love and married his wife within like 3 days this is hopefully not all that ooc. ANYWAYS i hope you enjoy this and pls let me know your thoughts or if you want to send in any asks about lucy they are all welcome in my inbox! OH and this isn't about the real rosie, just the fictional character portrayed by nate mann (*swoon*). and to cut off this insanely long author's note, thank you for reading <333

Rosie rested his head against the cool window, the train was hot. It was almost too hot. How Britain had turned from a pea soup to a tropical country is beyond him. He had been forced to take leave… again. So he booked a little place by the beach, far away from basically everything and he felt tentatively excited.

The thin pages of The Great Gatsby turned in his hands, it almost felt too sticky to read but he hadn’t brought anything else with him, and he didn’t feel content by just looking out of the window.

Rosie didn’t like to take breaks but he knew he needed one after the last mission. His new crew was almost too different. He never faulted anyone for not reuping but it was still strange. So after another successful ten missions he was sent off. At least he wasn’t sent to the Flak House again.

The train finally ambled to a stop and Rosie caught a glimpse of the town name, this was his stop. Quickly grabbing the sparse luggage he had brought with him, Rosie walked off the train and onto the tiny platform. The loud whistle made him jump as the train started to move away.

At least he was finally here.

Lucy was daydreaming again. The taste of pencil filled her mouth as she nervously bit down on the wood. She was feeling better, better than she had in a while but she still felt like she was missing, well, everything.

She had just spent the past few weeks researching and slaving over an article on Hitler’s propaganda and it was a good article. Maybe even a great one, but the years spent working on articles about that vile monster were taking their toll on her.

Lucy could distinctly remember when her editor called her into his office after she had snapped at one of the top correspondents who made a comment about women belonging in the kitchen.

“I can’t have this anymore. Do you understand what I’m risking by even having a woman on my team? You may be good, but you’re not that good. Now take a damn break before I have to bar you from this bloody office!”

She understood that it was for her own good but his words stung. It irked her that a man was making her take a break when he would let any of her male counterparts strut around doing whatever they pleased and yelling at secretaries.

So Lucy booked a ticket and left on the afternoon train headed for her hometown. A place almost completely untouched by war… at least for now. She had spent the first few days in bed, trying to recover from the complete exhaustion that five years of war had wrought on her. Lucy also spent that time remembering.

Her parents had died a few months before Hitler invaded Poland. They passed away within weeks of each other in the same house that Lucy was in now. She was almost glad that they didn’t have to experience another war, even if she missed them more than she could handle sometimes.

Her father had risen through the ranks in the Great War, eventually becoming a Colonel and earning a few medals for his service. Lucy’s mother was a singer, she had met and fallen in love with John Everett during one of her performances when she caught his eye from across the room. Diana Everett always insisted it was love at first sight.

They were loving parents and did what they could to make Lucy’s childhood a happy one. Always aiding her in any of her hobbies, and allowing her to pursue her dream of becoming a journalist, even at a time when women were expected to go into gentler trades.

Lucy’s father was the one to die first, he had had a bad cough when Lucy first left for London and that quickly evolved into something worse. Lucy was able to make it back for the funeral and she spent the next few weeks watching as her mother became a shell of herself. One day she just found her mother lying in bed clutching a photo of her late husband and no longer breathing.

The doctors said she died of a heart attack but Lucy knew it was from a broken heart. The entire experience nearly shattered Lucy, she barely cried at either funeral and threw herself into her work, slowly getting more and more recognition for her radical articles informing the British people about the Nazis and Hitler.

But during those first few days at her childhood home, Lucy finally allowed herself to crack. She spent hours writing in her personal diary and crying more tears than she thought possible. Until Friday, when she finally made the decision to pull herself together, she still felt lost but at least she was writing something other than distressing poetry.

So now Lucy sat at her desk, the end of a pencil resting on her lips and the start of a rough outline of a story in front of her. It was a new day.

The smell of the sea filled Rosie’s senses, it felt strange to be walking through a town that looked normal, with no gaping wounds left by bombings. It gave him a renewed sense of duty, places like this needed to be kept safe from the monsters.

He had rented a little room in a B&B ten minutes from the beach. It was nestled between two colorful houses, one painted light green and the other white with a wash of blue. He overheard the sounds of jazz echoing from the blue one, and the soft tones of a woman singing along.

Rosie’s face broke out into a smile and he started humming before looking back at the B&B and heading into the cozy atmosphere. An old woman with a cheerful smile greeted him and took one look at his uniform before upgrading him to one of the larger rooms. He thanked her profusely before heading up the creaking staircase and depositing his luggage onto the quilt-covered bed.

After a few hours of work on the short story, Lucy needed a break and the outside was calling to her. Boiling some water in her favorite kettle, she put on a record and started to hum and eventually sing to one of her mum’s favorite songs.

Once the water was boiled, Lucy carefully went through the motions of pouring it over the Earl Gray leaves in the teapot and letting it steep for a while before straining it into a cup and pouring a splash of milk over it. All the while singing just like her mother used to do when she prepared tea for her.

Armed with a book and a steaming cup of tea, Lucy opened the front door of the house and sat on the porch swing. Carefully placing the cup on the side table and opening up the first pages of her book, Lucy looked around at the front garden. She could almost hear the sounds of joyful laughter and screams from her childhood when she used to play with the neighborhood kids on that very lawn.

With her bare feet up on the porch swing and the milky goodness of tea in her mouth, Lucy started to read the first pages of The Great Gatsby, and settled in for a book she had been waiting too long to read.

Rosie had changed into his civies before grabbing a spare towel and his book. He had to stop the owner for directions to the beach but other than that he was excited to see the ocean, and experience the sun for the first time in a long while.

As he headed down the street he was surprised to find a woman sitting on the porch of the blue house he had seen earlier. Her blonde hair was curled around her face and she was wearing an outfit similar to his own - a blue button down shirt and loose black pants. In her hands was a copy of a book that was identical to one he held in his hand.

All Rosie could think about was that she was beautiful. He was openly gaping in the middle of a sidewalk because a woman he didn’t even know had completely enraptured him. Shaking himself out of his reverie after he realized just how long he had been staring at her, he was almost tempted to say something, anything. Just to have her look at him.

He just couldn’t get his mouth to form the words. Rosie had always been a shy person, especially as a kid but it seemed like all those years of shyness were finally catching up to him. So instead of saying anything, Rosie just turned and walked over to the beach. His knuckles clenched around his own copy of The Great Gatsby, imagining the ways that he could approach the beautiful woman of the blue house and how the conversation would go.

Maybe he could ask her about the book, or the music streaming out of her window. Maybe he could ask her out to dinner or… suddenly Rosie’s thought process stopped short when he had the awful realization that the woman could be married. He hadn’t even realized he had made it to the beach when the sand crunched under foot and he was thrown off balance. Taking a few moments to steady himself he walked along until he found a sand dune that looked nice enough. All the while thinking of all the ways the blonde beauty could reject him.

Rosie had now convinced himself it would be the worst idea on Earth to even approach her, so he settled onto his blanket and cracked open his book. Allowing for the sun to finally seep into his pores and getting lost in the pages of Gatsby’s own romantic woes.

After all the tea was drunk and Lucy had gotten through quite a bit of The Great Gatsby, she decided to get back to writing. Instead of going inside Lucy quickly grabbed a picnic blanket and spread it out in the front lawn. The outline for her short story was coming along nicely and she needed sun after spending the last five years under a constant cover of smog and rain in London.

She also managed to make a couple of sandwiches to serve as her lunch and spread herself out onto the soft fabric of the blanket. Squinting her eyes in the sun she started to elaborate a bit more on the brother in her story, ruminating about how she would have loved to have siblings.

Once she had completed half of the outline, Lucy’s eyes travelled from the cream page to the sidewalk, where a few mothers were milling around with their children. Pushing them in prams or trying to balance picnic baskets and food as the kids ran circles around them. A warm smile spread itself across Lucy’s face, this town was like her little corner of heaven.

It was mid afternoon when she first spotted him, Lucy had abandoned her writing a while ago in favor of people watching and basking in the rays of sun. She could have gone to the beach, but she couldn’t be bothered to move from her lawn where the sun was hitting just right.

The man looked about her age, he was wearing civilian clothes but he had an air about him that made Lucy think he was at least part of some branch of the military. He had dark curly hair and a mustache and he looked like an angel sent down from heaven. In his hand, Lucy spied a copy of the very book sitting next to her and a towel covered in sand. He must have been at the beach.

Lucy knew she was blatantly staring but he was just so pretty. She was used to the men that made up her London office, balding and sexist, who flirted with her like she was an object to be used. So whenever she ventured out into the real world Lucy was basically set in a tailspin by the array of people that interested her, and for some reason this strange man made her heart skip a beat.

Almost like she had wished it to happen, the man caught her stare and smiled shyly. Bringing up his free hand in an awkward wave. Cute. In return, Lucy beamed at him and waved back, before quickly grabbing her copy of The Great Gatsby and lifting it up.

Rosie headed back from the beach feeling renewed, and he was also hopeful that he might get another glance at the beautiful blonde from the blue house. Ever lost in his thoughts, Rosie didn’t even realize he was on the sidewalk that led to his B&B until he caught the glance of the woman from the porch… except this time she was lying on a blanket in the middle of the yard.

He smiled at her when he realized she was staring at him, at him! Then he did the stupidest thing he could think of and waved. Rosie started to berate himself for how idiotic he was being when the blonde waved back and smiled at him with a smile that had his breath catching.

A moment later she held up her book, a copy of which he was also carrying, and he smiled even more broadly.

“Good book?” She called out to him with a voice that reminded him of the movies. A crisp British accent laced with laughter.

“It sure is.” Rosie answered, almost feeling slightly ashamed of his American accent which sounded so much more grating in comparison to hers.

“I’m Lucy!” The woman said, standing up and brushing herself off as she walked over to the whitewashed fence so she was now only a meter away from Rosie. How he wished she was even closer.

“I’m Rosie.”

“Ah, an American. I knew it!” Rosie blushed and ducked his head in embarrassment. “Hey! I never said it was a bad thing. It’s nice to meet you, Rosie. You have a pretty accent.”

“I think that’s the first time one of you Brits has ever said that to me.”

“We haven’t been very welcoming, have we? Well that must be remedied instantly! How have you been enjoying good ol’ Britain?” Rosie felt like he was watching a band play the most incredible set, Lucy talked like she could charm the entire air force in just seconds.

“First time I’ve seen the sun in years.” Rosie said, exaggerating the comment by squinting at her, making Lucy laugh - the sound making a blush spread across Rosie’s face, he wanted to hear that sound for the rest of his life.

“You and me both. I like to think of it as one of Britain's charms but it does get rather melancholic, don’t you think? Where are you usually stationed, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Thorpe Abbotts, I’m one of the pilots.”

“A fighter pilot?”

“Oh dear God no. I pilot B-17s.”

“Ah the big birds, that suits you better I would say.” Rosie inclined his head in agreement which had Lucy smiling at him.

“I’m a war correspondent - although I haven’t been on the front lines quite yet. My editor still has rather old-fashioned beliefs about women and war.” Lucy’s eyes dimmed at the last part which had Rosie wincing.

“They should feel lucky to have you, not the other way around.” Blush covered Lucy’s cheeks at his statement and Rosie felt himself smile triumphantly.

“Oh you charmer. Would you like to come in for some tea or water, maybe?”

“That would be wonderful.”

Lucy felt a certain giddiness encasing her body, she never did this. She never invited strange men, albeit handsome strange men, into her home and yet she was doing this. At least he didn’t seem like an axe murderer, and he was an American! Mostly she was just trying to overcome the nerves of having someone she actually liked showing interest in her.

Rosie quickly followed her into the house, helping her carry the picnic blanket she had been using as well as all her writing materials. So he truly was a gentleman after all.

The record had stopped spinning a while ago so when Lucy saw Rosie eying the player she quickly took the blanket and papers out of his hands.

“Why don’t you put on some music? I need to put these things away anyways.”

“Are you sure?”

“Go right ahead.” Rosie smiled gratefully and walked over to the record player, Lucy watched him flick through the various options and let herself smile. She needed some good in her life, she was going to let herself have this, even if it’s only for a few hours.

Turning around, Lucy folded the blanket and set it on one of the wooden chairs by the door, placing the book on top of it before bounding over to the study and placing the sheets of paper into a neat pile next to the typewriter. The sounds of Artie Shaw suddenly filled the atmosphere and Lucy quickly walked back over to the living room, making the creaks of the wooden floor boards alert her presence.

Lucy found Rosie staring out of the window and tapping on the frame in time with the music. He looked completely lost in thought that Lucy almost felt bad disturbing him.

“Rosie?”

“Hmm?”

“Water?”

“I would love some.” Rosie said as he turned from the window and smiled at Lucy, her nerves of bothering him dissipating in an instant when he set his gray eyes on hers. “Do you need any help getting it?”

“No, just keep choosing good music and we should be fine.” Lucy turned to get to the kitchen and grabbed a few glasses as Rosie trailed in behind her. Leaning against the door frame as he watched her move around the kitchen.

“You have a great collection.”

“That would be my parents’ accomplishment. They drilled good music taste into me.” Lucy said with a sad smile on her face as she poured out some water from one of the pitchers.

“My mom was the same way. The one problem is that I am in no way musically inclined, I just know what sounds good.”

“Have you tried to sing?” Lucy asked with a teasing smile as she passed him the glass.

“Oh I have, you do not want to be there when that happens.”

“How bad?”

“Horrifying. I sound like a dying goat.” They both burst out laughing and Lucy felt a warm feeling spread through her limbs, it almost felt like she was being doused in joy.

“I cannot wait for the day when I hear you sing.”

“Why? So you can ridicule me? That will not be happening in a million years, ma’am.”

“I would never ridicule you! How can you think so lowly of me?”

“I barely even know you-”

“Exactly.” Lucy interrupted with a serious look on her face that had Rosie chuckling again. They quieted down into a comfortable silence as they each took little sips of water every now and then, just watching the way the other person reacted.

“How are you liking the book?” Rosie finally asked.

“I’m enjoying it, it isn’t the kind of book I usually pick up but it’s a nice reminder of a time when war wasn’t a part of daily life. I do have to say though, you Americans are quite strange.”

“I feel like I should rebuke that but it’s the truth. Doesn’t it almost feel like the book was set in a completely different world?”

“Yes!” Lucy fervently agreed as they started to drift back towards the living room, settling into the worn couch.

Over the next few hours, Lucy and Rosie inched closer and closer together on the couch. They talked about everything under the sun; their lives, their favorite books, pictures, music, war and their lives before it all. Lucy let Rosie take charge of the music and their conversation was soundtracked by various jazz hits and whatever obscure artist Rosie seemed to find fascinating in her collection.

Eventually the conversation turned to family and Lucy avidly started to talk about her parents, a subject which she almost never discussed with anyone she had just met.

“So yeah my mum met my dad at one of the pubs she was performing at and the rest is history.”

“Well now I have to get you to sing, it must run in the family! And it’s only fair.”

“Hey! That was a joke.” Lucy screeched, she never liked singing in front of other people she preferred doing it in the comfort of her own home and doing it alone.

“Aha so you do admit you were trying to ridicule me!” Rosie said triumphantly as he pointed at Lucy, making her face twist in complete disbelief.

“That is what you got from that?”

“Well it’s the truth isn’t it?”

“It is not! And I will not sing for you.”

“One day you will.”

“Will not.”

“Will.”

“You stupid, stubborn man.” Lucy said poking at Rosie’s shoulder, making him devolve into hysterics which had Lucy smiling stupidly at the man in front of her. The butterflies in her stomach hadn’t really gone away the entire time she had been talking to him, they had somehow managed to get worse.

That was when she realized how late it had gotten, the sun was just beginning to set and the living room was set alight with the glowing colors of the sky.

“Oh dear, I have kept you too late. You don’t have somewhere to be, do you?” Lucy asked nervously, once Rosie had started to calm down.

“No, no, not at all. I didn’t have much time to make any plans before I came here.”

“Well in that case how would you like to have dinner with me?” Lucy didn’t show it but she was practically buzzing with nerves - hoping and praying that he would say yes.

“Are you kidding?” Rosie was looking at Lucy with a completely gobsmacked expression on his face that had Lucy wondering if he truly thought she was messing with him.

“Not at all.”

“Well, in that case, I would love to have dinner with you.”

“Uh- wonderful. I haven’t cooked anything so you wouldn’t mind going out, do you?”

“Of course not, it would be a good opportunity to explore the town.”

“I’ll just grab my coat and we can go?” Lucy asked tentatively and Rosie nodded before settling back into the couch. Lucy yelled out a quick ‘I’ll be right back’ and disappeared into the hallways of the house.

Rosie felt like he was in paradise. Who would have known that going on mandatory leave would get him this? He wasn’t sure he had ever bonded with someone as quickly as he had bonded with Lucy. It was as if they were twin souls, linked so that it was inevitable that they would meet at one point or another.

The light in the living room changed as the sun started to set, it played with the shadows on the walls and highlighted the framed photographs and art which told a story of a happy childhood and a happy family. It reminded him of his own childhood home. Rosie hadn’t even realized how much he had missed laughing. Something that suddenly just became so easy around Lucy.

Rosie had to give it to his self-restraint, he somehow managed not to kiss Lucy even though many a time in the past few hours he fantasized of brushing his hands through her blonde curls and kissing her like his life depended on it.

“Rosie? Do you want me to find you a coat?” A muffled yell was heard from somewhere upstairs which had him looking up towards the ceiling.

“No, I think I should be fine!” Rosie yelled back.

“Are you sure? I can probably find something that fits you.”

“I’m sure it’s not that cold, Lucy.”

“Okay! Don’t go around blaming me when you’re freezing to death.”

Shaking his head in mock resolution and quietly chuckling, Rosie stood up from his place on the green couch and went to pick up his copy of The Great Gatsby and the towel he had brought with him all those hours ago. But he stopped short when he saw Lucy’s own copy haphazardly strewn on one of the wooden chairs that seemed to be scattered throughout the house. With a sly smile, Rosie left the book and walked towards the front door, empty handed.

“Hi! Sorry that took so long. My hair was a mess, are you ready?” Lucy quickly said as she basically ran down the stairs, a motion that had Rosie’s hair raising in alarm - worried that she would somehow trip and fall to a quick death.

“You’re going to crack your head open one of these days if you keep going down stairs that quickly.” Rosie said when she finally reached the bottom and went to grab her purse from the side table.

“I know those stairs like the back of my hand, Rosie. If I ever trip and fall I’m blaming your handsome face.” Rosie made an expression of mock horror, but inside he felt like a stupid teenager.

“I’m offended by such an allegation. It would be your fault for getting distracted.” Lucy hummed back in mock reply before opening the door and walking out into the brisk night air, which had Rosie quickly following after her.

“Milady.” Rosie said, as he offered his arm to Lucy once she had shut and locked the door. Lucy beamed at him before slipping her arm around his, physically linking them together.

“Alright, I know this little Italian place that a friend’s family owns. How does that sound?”

“Perfect. I’ve been eating army rations for the past few years, anything that isn’t that sounds incredible.”

The pair roamed through the cobbled streets, in search of the little alleyway that housed the restaurant and basking in each other’s presence. When they finally arrived at the quaint little restaurant, Rosie was surprised to see that there were various other couples seated and eating Italian dishes.

“Lucy! You didn’t tell us you were back in town.” Said a voice from behind the counter, it belonged to a tall, brunette woman whose hair was tied back into an elaborate bun.

“Hi, Renata! Yeah, sorry, this was a last minute thing. How have you been?”

“Good, good. Now who is this handsome man?”

“Major Rosenthal, ma’am.”

“How did you bag this one, Lucy?” The brunette asked, making a blush creep up over both of Lucy and Rosie’s faces.

“Renata…”

“Fine! I won’t ask anymore questions. A table for two, I presume? We have a nice one close to the back.”

“That sounds great.”

Rosie spent the next hour eating the best spaghetti he had ever eaten and staring at the woman he seemed to be quickly falling in love with. They seemed to never run out of topics of conversation, cycling through enough to fill an entire encyclopedia. Rosie learnt a lot more about the British news field than he had ever thought was possible and in turn Lucy seemed enraptured whenever he talked about flying.

They stayed until it was almost closing time,when Renata basically pushed them out and gave them a complimentary bottle of wine, which had Lucy blushing in embarrassment and Rosie laughing. Somehow the night air was still warm, even though the sun had long set and the world had started to fall asleep.

“I’m glad I met you Rosie.” Lucy finally ventured, after they had been walking for a while in complete silence. Just letting the energy of the day seep in.

“Me too. I never in a million years would have thought I would meet someone like you.”

“You really do have a way with words, Major. Have you ever thought of becoming a poet?”

“I will leave all the writing to you, sweetheart.”

“This is it.” Lucy muttered once they had arrived back at the blue house at the end of the street.

“And that would be me.” Rosie said, pointing at the B&B next to the house.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“You can bet on it, Lucy.”

“Great.” Lucy whispered the first word as Rosie started to move closer and closer to her. He felt a wave of dizziness hit him, but he carefully placed both of his hands on her cheeks and stroked the soft skin.

“I’m really glad I met you too, Lucy.” Rosie muttered before surging forward and finally doing what he had been meaning to do for the past few hours. He kissed her with such intensity that it caught Lucy off guard. She stood still for a few moments before kissing him back with the same intensity and love that he was emphasizing in that kiss.

Lucy tangled her hands in his brown curls and felt the world just go still. For the first time in a long while. They stayed like that, kissing and holding each other until they heard the distant sounds of a baby crying.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” Rosie asked once they broke apart.

“I’ll be waiting.”

Lucy basically screeched in happiness once she had shut the door behind her. She finally understood what her mum was talking about when she talked about love at first sight. Rosie was her dream man, someone she didn’t even realize she had been looking for.

After carefully putting everything away and changing into her nightgown, Lucy settled into the comfort of her own bed and started to write lines upon lines about Rosie. She had filled up nearly two pages of her diary when her eyelids began to droop. It was almost midnight and she needed to be refreshed for tomorrow so she quickly signed off and pulled the covers over her body - allowing for sleep to pull her into its warm embrace.

The morning sun streamed through her window and softly woke Lucy up. Her relaxed joints groaned as she stretched and enjoyed the feeling of summer and sleep on her skin. Yesterday morning seemed like a distant memory. The darkness that usually invaded her waking hours felt almost less. Lucy had an excited thrill running through her body as she stretched.

Urging herself out of bed, Lucy slipped a robe over her nightgown and tied the sashes together loosely. The stairs creaked as her socked feet went down them and she was reminded of Rosie and his little comment about being careful. It was almost like this house was being reawakened with memories of the living, instead of being haunted by the ghosts of the past.

Once she arrived at the kitchen, Lucy started to go through her morning motions. Brewing a cup of Earl Gray tea, toasting some bread and starting to fry up some eggs. She was in the middle of beating the eggs together when a loud knock echoed through the house.

“There is no way that could be Rosie… could it?” Lucy wondered aloud, as she dried her hands on a tea towel and headed to answer the door. She turned the handle and pulled the door open to find that it was indeed Rosie. He was standing on the porch in civilian clothes again, his hair seemed a little less ordered than it was the day before and the morning sun was carefully lighting his face.

Lucy’s face broke out into a smile and Rosie returned it, before he carefully scanned her up and down and realized she was still in her nightgown. It was a long lacy and cotton thing that was only slightly covered by her robe. A light blush dusted his cheeks as he tried to focus on her face.

“Good morning. I hope I’m not disturbing…”

“Not all! Come, come. I’m just making breakfast.” Lucy stepped from out of the door frame, allowing for Rosie to walk into the house. She smiled and tried to contain her excitement as she focused on closing the door.

“Have you had anything to eat yet?” Lucy asked once she turned around and saw that Rosie was looking at her, he had a twinkle in his eye that wasn’t there a moment before and it made a surge of electricity run up her spine.

“I had some things at the B&B.”

“Alright, can I interest you in a cup of tea then?”

“Actually…” Rosie took a step closer to Lucy, making her raise her eyebrows in question. “I think I would like to do this first.”

Rosie pushed a stray curl away from her face and tucked it behind her ear before gently pressing his lips to hers. Lucy’s eyelids fell shut and she threw her arms around his neck, allowing herself to be swept away by the sensation. Once they drew apart, Lucy scrunched her nose up and looked at the handsome man in front of her.

“Well aren’t you presumptuous? Coming all the way here in the early morning just to kiss me.”

“I’ve been wanting to do that ever since I met you, I think it was warranted.” Rosie said with a shrug as he looked at Lucy adoringly, stroking his knuckles against the apple of her cheek.

“Flirt.”

“You love it.”

“I’m not gracing that with a response, now come. I don’t want my tea to get cold.” Lucy entwined her hand with his and started to pull Rosie in the direction of the kitchen, he was all too happy to follow her command.

Rosie watched from one of the wooden chairs as Lucy busied herself with making breakfast. She was as graceful as a dancer, she seemed to have the routine nailed down to a ‘T’.

“Here.” Lucy said, as she carefully placed a cup of steaming hot tea in front of Rosie. “Let me know what you think.”

Rosie gingerly rose the mug to his lips and blew on the milky liquid. It smelled incredible, he usually just drank the weak coffee at base but this smelt like something out of a bakery. Then he took a sip and instead of tasting something incredible, it almost tasted flat. In an effort to not disappoint the woman in front of him, Rosie forced a smile and fake hummed in delight.

“You hate it.” Lucy said with a laugh, which instantly had Rosie’s façade falling and he too was laughing.

“I’m an American, what can I say?”

“I’ll excuse it. Here I just finished mine so I can drink the rest. No need for it to go to waste.” Lucy placed her hands over his and Rosie felt the familiar spark in his body that was elicited by being able to touch her. His beautiful Lucy.

“I’m sorry.” Rosie said once Lucy started to take moderated sips of the beverage.

“Don’t apologize, I, for one, hate the taste of coffee so I think we can move on from this.” Rosie’s face turned scandalized for a moment but he quickly schooled his expression and nodded seriously, making Lucy snort and continue drinking her tea before turning to stir the eggs in the frying pan.

“Are you sure you’re not hungry?”

“Yes. Mrs. Sloane gave me plenty.” Rosie distinctly remembered the large feast the owner had prepared, it was almost too much to handle but she had been intent on doing it so he didn’t stop her.

“She’s wonderful, isn’t she? She used to babysit me when I was younger. I was supposedly a very difficult child.” Lucy muttered as she plated her breakfast and sat across from Rosie at the breakfast table.

“I don’t believe that, you seem like an angel.”

“Oh no I was very much a devil child. The amount of times I was lost in the sand dunes is beyond count.” Rosie guffawed and watched Lucy as she scooped up pieces of scrambled eggs with her unbuttered toast.

“Did you sleep well?”

“I did, you?” Lucy asked, after taking a few bites of her toast. Rosie nodded and stretched over the table to tuck an errant curl behind her ear, seeing as a light blush covered Lucy’s face.

“Do you have any plans for today?”

“Nope. I was going to write but I think there is something else I would much rather be doing.”

“And what would that be?” Rosie asked with a smirk starting to spread across his face, he liked getting to tease her. To see what he could say to get Lucy all flustered.

“You’re really going to make me say it?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Fine, Major. I want to spend it with you.” Lucy said quickly, relenting under Rosie’s teasing glare.

“Good, because I have no plans.”

“Great.” Lucy nodded resolutely and then stood up to put the dishes in the sink. Rosie watched her as the fabric of her robe swayed around her. He stood up from his seat and walked up behind her, carefully placing his arms around her waist and resting his chin on her head.

“Hello there?”

“You look beautiful.”

“Do I?”

“Hmmm.”

“Rosie, I need to wash the dishes.”

“Just stay with me for a moment, then you can wash the dishes.” Lucy turned around so Rosie was staring into those deep brown eyes he loved.

“What are we doing, Rosie?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean with us. I’m assuming you will have to leave soon and I have to get back to London. I want this to be good but I can’t- I don’t deal well with loss, Rosie.” Lucy muttered, making Rosie’s heart almost break in half. He stood slightly speechless for a few moments as Lucy took to rearranging his hair. Rosie hadn’t even realized that this would all end soon. He didn’t realize he would have to leave her so soon.

“We’ll write and I promise I will do everything in my power to keep coming back. I want whatever this is, Lucy. Darling, I haven’t felt like this ever. I don’t want to lose you, even if I have just met you.”

“So we do this. We promise we will come back to each other.”

“Yes. And I get to call you mine.”

“Rosie, I- alright. Let’s do this. I’m in.”

“Good, because I was all in the moment I saw that beautiful face from across the lawn.” Lucy giggled and suddenly rested her head against his chest. Rosie was sure she could feel the thudding of his heart, so he wrapped her up in his arms and pressed a kiss to the crown of her head. Lucy’s arms circled his middle and they stayed like that for a few long moments.

“What do you want to do today?” Rosie heard Lucy mutter against the fabric of his shirt, her hot breath making shivers run up his spine.

“Whatever you would like.”

“Does a picnic sound nice?”

“That sounds lovely.” Lucy started to unwind her arms and Rosie already started to miss the weight of her against him.

“I would need to get changed.” Rosie watched Lucy motioned at her clothes and smiled at the devastated expression on his face.

“Do you really?”

“Yes, you menace!” Rosie laughed at the scandalized expression on Lucy’s face.

“Fine, fine. I’ll start on the dishes.”

“Rosie… you don’t have to.”

“I want to. Now shoo, before I don’t let you get dressed.”

“You wouldn’t do that.”

“Watch me.” Rosie said, ducking his head so he was looking at Lucy through his eyebrows. She just rolled her eyes and pulled herself away from his arms, but not before giving him a quick peck on the cheek. Rosie smiled as he watched her walk away from him, he knew he was beyond smitten.

Lucy was desperately searching for something to wear when the sounds of Ella Fitzgerald filtered in from downstairs. Rosie had put on music, and she could distantly hear him humming to himself over the rush of water.

Staring at the closer, Lucy realized that all her clothes suddenly seemed too ugly to work, she wanted to dress up enough that she looked nice but also didn’t want to look like she was trying too hard. Why is this so complicated?

Huffing, Lucy finally pulled out a dark pink dress she hadn’t worn since before the war. It was made of cotton and she knew it looked good on her… five years ago. There was no fault in trying it on so Lucy quickly changed out of her nightgown and buttoned up the cotton dress up. Fluffing up her curls, Lucy carefully folded the strewn clothes and arranged the closet.

She knew she was probably just trying to procrastinate going downstairs when Lucy started to smooth out the fabric of her dress for the fifth time.

“Deep breaths. It will be fine.” Lucy firmly nodded in resolution before opening the door of her bedroom and walking out.

Rosie was finishing drying the dishes when Lucy walked in, she watched as he stared out of the kitchen window absentmindedly humming to the music and drying one of the mugs.

“How do sandwiches sound?” Lucy finally asked as she pulled the old fridge door open, trying to find if she had enough things to make a suitable lunch.

“That sounds great. You don’t mind that I used the record player?”

“Darling, you are free to use that whenever you please.” Lucy reassured him as she emerged from the fridge holding a parcel of cheese and various pieces of produce. Her heart seemed to stop when she saw how he was looking at her. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“No really, why are you staring at me like that?”

“You look like a vision.” Lucy ducked her head to stop Rosie from seeing her cheeks flaming bright red.

“Thank you.” Lucy placed the food on the cutting board and started to cut up the cheese into slices to go on the bread.

“You don’t take compliments well, do you?”

“I’m British, what do you expect?” Lucy said as she looked at Rosie over her shoulder, repeating the same words he had said to her. He had finished drying the dishes a while ago and now he was leaning on the counter with his arms crossed. The morning sun hit his face just right and Lucy was wondering how he had become a pilot when he clearly could have been put into major motion pictures.

Lucy turned back to the task at hand with a smile on her face, the song on the record player suddenly changed and Lucy started to hum in tune with the music.

She quickly finished making the sandwiches and ordered Rosie to try and find the basket that she had stowed away in the hall closet. When he returned, Rosie was also carrying the picnic blanket from the day before.

“Thought we might need this.”

“Perfect, you can set it- uh Rosie?” Lucy found herself being spun around and into Rosie’s arms. They were swaying in time with the music and she found herself looking at the man in front of her with a questioning look in her eyes.

“This song can’t not be danced to. And you look too beautiful for me not to take this opportunity.” Rosie said as he brought Lucy closer to him, leaning his forehead against hers.

“You need to stop that.”

“What? Saying the truth?”

“Rosie…”

“Nope, not taking requests. You’re stuck with me.”

“Oh God.” Lucy groaned in mock anguish and rested her head on his shoulder, feeling as he tightened his hold on her.

Once everything was packed and ready, Rosie found himself carrying the picnic basket in one hand and holding Lucy’s hand in the other. She truly looked like some kind of angel sent from heaven. Her blonde curls bounced as she walked and excitedly explained random bits of history or childhood stories about different areas of the town.

Supposedly they were on the way to one of the little alcoves that was the perfect picnic spot according to Lucy, but Rosie just felt happy to be around her. He still didn’t truly understand how exactly he had found Lucy. He could clearly imagine what would have happened if he never took leave, he would be going up again and would have never known about the blonde spitfire who hated compliments and lived in a blue house by the beach.

God, he can almost picture Crosby’s face when he tells him that he found a girl while on leave. That is going to be something that he would never want to miss.

“So tell me about you now, I think I’ve rambled on long enough.” Lucy said, as she beamed at Rosie, bumping her shoulder against his.

“You know almost everything about me, darling.”

“There has to be something. A dirty secret, perhaps?”

“No, no. Nothing of the sort.”

“Alright fine, Saint Rosie.”

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Any dirty secrets.”

“Hmm, a few, but my lips are sealed.”

“Now that’s unfair.”

“It is not!”

They continued on like that for a while longer, until both Rosie and Lucy had started to feel tiny pangs of hunger in their stomachs. The sun was shining brightly as they continued to walk on the beach, Lucy still intent on finding the cove she used to go to.

“Aha! There it is. I told you, my parents used to take me here when I was a kid.”

Lucy unlaced her hand from Rosie’s and he watched her as she ran across the sand, twirling and laughing like she had just won the lottery. A feeling of complete happiness and joy spread through Rosie’s limbs and he carefully placed the picnic basket on the sand, running after Lucy. Once he reached her he pulled her into his arms and twirled her around. Their laughter quickly filled the cove with joy it hadn’t witnessed in a while.

They had calmed down after a while and Rosie quickly helped Lucy set up the picnic. The ginger beer somehow still cool to the touch after being carried under the sun for a while.

Once everything was ready, Rosie basically inhaled his sandwich, whether that was because of Lucy’s culinary skills or the hunger that had built up in him during the walk he did not know, but Rosie felt calm for the first time in a while.

He was now watching the push and pull of the waves against the sandy beach and stroking a hand through Lucy’s soft curls. With her head resting on his lap she seemed to almost be dozing off, a small content smile adorning her face.

“You know, I’m glad my editor made me take a break.” Lucy’s soft voice carefully broke the comfortable silence, Rosie hummed in appreciation - urging her to go on. “I haven’t stopped working ever since… my parents.”

“It’s almost like you settled into a routine, you thought you were handling it well and then suddenly…” Rosie trailed off as he thought back to his time at the Flak House, he had gotten better at handling missions after that, he felt more human but he knew exactly how hard it felt to just stop sometimes. Because when you stop, you start to feel everything.

“It gets too much…”

“Exactly. I had- have, the same problem.”

“Birds of a feather.”

“Yes.” Rosie murmured, his mind far away in the clouds. He felt so connected to Lucy for some reason. Maybe this is why. They were two sides of the same coin.

“Read to me, Rosie.” Lucy said after a few moments of silence. Rosie looked down to find that Lucy’s brown eyes were fixed on his face.

“You want the silly American to read to you?”

“Rosie… everything about you is beautiful, now, read to me. The silly Brit commands you.”

“Commanding me now, are we?” Rosie teasingly asked, largely ignoring the first part of Lucy’s comment which made him feel like he was floating.

“Rosie.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Rosie picked up the copy of The Great Gatsby that Lucy had packed and flicked to a random page, starting to read the tale of some rich fictional idiots who had no care in the world except for the sorrows of love.

Pastels painted the sky as the sun started to set. Lucy was still lying in the same position she had been for the past few hours. Rosie had abandoned reading after a while and they spent that time talking and sitting in comfortable silence.

It was easy just being around Rosie, Lucy felt completely safe in his presence. He had this reassuring air around him which made her sure he was a wonderful Major.

“Sometimes I wish I could paint. I can write about this moment all I want but to create a piece of it would be a completely different experience.”

“Why don’t you start it?”

“What? Painting? No never, you have a better chance of turning me into a singer.” Lucy answered, making the pair laugh.

“Do you think we should head back?”

“Let us stay for a while more, Rosie. It’s too perfect. I want something to remember when we leave.”

“We’ll come back here, Lucy. I swear it.” Lucy smiled up sadly at Rosie, examining the way he looked down at her. She thought he looked earnest enough, but who knew with this war? Who knew if he would ever come back to her?

“I hope we will, Rosie.”

Lucy noticed how much quieter the walk back to her house was, Rosie had slung his arm around her shoulder, tucking her into him and protecting Lucy from the biting night wind that had started to pick up. It was almost as if the realization of leaving was starting to weigh on them. Rosie would be leaving late the next afternoon and Lucy on Monday. Both headed back to their lives and away from the slice of heaven they had been able to cultivate.

“Do you want to come in?” Lucy asked once they arrived at her house. She had already started to move to grab the picnic basket, making up her mind that Rosie wanted to at least spend a meal by himself.

“I would love to.” Lucy smiled and moved back to her original position under Rosie’s arm. “But only if you don’t mind me cooking?”

“You cook?!” Lucy must have realized she looked beyond surprised because she schooled her face a few moments later.

“I do. I haven’t had the chance recently, but my mother taught me well.”

Lucy smiled and quickly pecked Rosie on the cheek before bounding over to the door to unlock it.

“Come on, Rosie. I’m desperate to see what you’ll make.”

Rosie just laughed and picked up his pace until he followed Lucy into the house and shut the door behind him. He placed the picnic basket on the floor and then headed towards the direction of the kitchen.

He passed Lucy, who was quickly flicking through the record collection, intent on finding something to put on while he cooked. Rosie already knew what he was going to make, he just hoped Lucy had the right ingredients for it.

Rosie quickly spent the next hour prepping and cooking his mom’s famous tomato soup. Lucy poured them each large cups of wine and watched him as he cooked. Rosie felt slightly embarrassed by her calculating stare, feeling her eyes on him the entire time he was slicing or stirring, but after a while he realized she was staring at him in admiration. Watching as he fluidly moved through her kitchen and prepared a dinner just for the two of them.

When Rosie was finally ready to plate the food, Lucy offered him two china bowls her mother must have saved for special occasions and Rosie distinctly felt his heart swell. He was rather nervous after they finished serving everything and sat down next to each other at the large dinner table that was usually left unused.

Rosie watched Lucy as dipped her spoon into the tomato soup, raised it to her lips and took a delicate sip. He watched as her face contorted in awe and she quickly took a larger sip.

“Rosie. How? This needs to be in a restaurant. This is incredible!”

“It can’t be that good.”

“Oh it is. You must tell me your secrets.” Rosie laughed, relieved that he was able to please her. He took a sip of his own soup and relished in the familiar taste of home.

After dinner and cleaning up the dishes, Rosie found himself nestled next to Lucy on the couch. She had gotten changed once they had finished drying the dishes and was now wearing the long lacy nightgown he had seen that morning. It seemed that it was tailored to be his own personal torture device.

“Lucy, you really need to stop me, because I really want to kiss you right now.” Rosie finally said, it seemed like the two glasses of wine had given him enough confidence that his brain was no longer filtering his mouth. Lucy turned her head to look at him directly and he watched as a smile blossomed on her face.

“Oh I’m not going to be the one to stop you.”

This kiss felt different from the others. It was as if it was imbued with a special kind of love that came from knowing the other person on a much deeper level. Rosie’s fingers were tangled in Lucy’s silky blonde curls and he could feel as his own curls were being ruffled from where Lucy’s hands had started to tug on them.

When they finally broke apart, both Rosie and Lucy were panting hard. Rosie knew he was looking at Lucy with more admiration than he thought was possible and she was looking at him with the same depth of love in her eyes.

“You are quite a man, Robert Rosenthal.”

“And you are quite a woman, Lucy Everett.” Lucy laughed and she tucked herself close to him once again. Rosie relished in the warmth that her body emanated, how he wished he could stay like this forever.

Little by little, the sound of Bing Crosby started to fade and Rosie felt himself drop into a slow slumber. Lucy’s eyes also began to close and the two lovers drifted off into the sweet escape of sleep.

Only once did one of them wake, Rosie woke up panting after having what seemed like a nightmare. The moon illuminated the living room and he could still hear the distant sounds of a woman screaming. He shook himself out of it and instead focused on the blonde in his arms. He carefully readjusted her and placed a kiss on her cheek before falling back asleep.

Lucy felt a warm solid body pressed against her own. She blearily blinked her eyes open and watched as her living room blossomed around her. Then she remembered where she was, and who she was with.

“You’re finally awake.” Rosie’s voice made Lucy smile contently and she looked up to see Rosie’s intent stare on her face.

“Hmmm, good morning.”

“It is indeed.”

“You stayed.”

“I wouldn’t leave unless I had to, Lucy.” Rosie said with a sad smile, Lucy watched as his eyes dimmed slightly and she quickly nestled closer into him. Sitting up slightly to press a kiss to his jaw, and then his cheek and finally his lips.

“What was that for?”

“I thought you needed it.” Lucy said with a shrug before she was too attacked with kisses. Rosie’s mustache tickled her skin as he placed a flurry of kisses all over her face. She shrieked in delight, making Rosie chuckle against her. “Rosie! Stop! I have to go make breakfast.”

“Nope.” Rosie stopped kissing her for a moment just to respond to her comment and Lucy let out a sigh of relief, which was instantly cut short as he started his assault once again.

“Rosie…”

“Okay, okay fine. Come on. I’ll help you make breakfast.” Rosie said, finally relenting. He stretched out his arms and let out a groan as Lucy also yawned and started to stand up from her place on the couch.

“What are you feeling like?”

“Anything you want, darling. Just none of that tea please.” Lucy narrowed her eyes at him, which had Rosie smiling sheepishly at her.

“Fine, come on.”

Lucy quickly busied herself as she picked out the meager ingredients she had to make eggless pancakes, since she had used up the last of the eggs yesterday. Lucy could feel Rosie’s eyes on her when she started to do her little tea ritual.

“Can you put on some music, honey?” Lucy asked once she had finished pouring herself a cup.

“Of course.”

After the click of the record sounded, Lucy distinctly felt the weight of Rosie behind her as he pulled her towards him and hugged her from behind. Lucy was carefully measuring out the ingredients but she let her head lean against his shoulder.

“Hmmm. I’m going to miss you.” Lucy whispered, Rosie hummed against her head and Lucy felt herself start to sway against him. She felt a slow tear run down the length of her cheek and she allowed herself to just feel for a few moments.

“I may be leaving but I’ll always be in your heart, and you will always be in mine.”

“You’re already making me cry, Rosie, stop saying things like that.” Lucy said with a strained laugh. Looking back at him, Lucy felt her heart both swell and break simultaneously.

“Lucy… I-”

“I love you.” Lucy muttered, interrupting Rosie mid sentence. She watched him as his eyes widened and his jaw dropped.

“You- you? You love me?”

“I think I’ve loved you since the moment I met you.”

“I love you too. I’ve loved you ever since I saw you sitting outside on your porch swing reading the same book I was. Lucy, darling, I-”

Lucy cut Rosie off again but this time with a kiss. She threw her arms around his shoulders and pulled him towards her. She put everything she had into that kiss and she felt as Rosie responded in turn. His lips cautiously moved against hers and she felt a tingle run over her body by how carefully he cradled her face against his.

“Rosie. I really need to get to those pancakes.” Lucy finally said after a few long minutes of kissing. She muttered her words against his lips, feeling as Rosie chuckled and pulled away from here.

“Nothing is stopping you, milady.” Lucy huffed but turned back around. Savoring the feeling of the man that she loved cradling her as she fixed breakfast and took sips of her tea.

Rosie’s tastebuds ignited when he placed a slice of pancake in his mouth. The day was already starting to shape out to be a good one. He still felt like he was floating after Lucy’s admission only half an hour ago, now he just watched her in awe from across the kitchen table. She was also taking careful bites of her pancakes and stealing glances at him.

They had almost become more bashful than they had ever been, whenever they met eyes either Rosie or Lucy would immediately break eye contact. There was a comfortable tension between them that neither person felt necessary to break.

Once they had both finished their respective breakfasts, Rosie leant over and entwined their hands together. He watched as Lucy smiled adoringly at him and leaned over to peck his lips.

“Rosie… I- do you want to finish The Great Gatsby?” Lucy asked against his lips, staring at him intently. Rosie nodded and they both rose from their seats and walked over to the living room. Leaving the dishes for another time.

The morning was spent in a quiet comfort. Rosie’s voice echoed through the rooms of the house, although he frequently stopped his reading to press languid kisses to Lucy’s lips, or to caress the exposed skin of her arm. At the pace that he ended up going, he finished the book at about midday. When Rosie leaned over to place the book on the coffee table, he felt Lucy stir from his side and start to stretch out.

“I need to get changed, Rosie.”

“Yeah?”

“Hmm. I wanted to walk with you to the station and I can’t do that wearing a nightgown.”

“I wouldn’t be complaining.”

“I know you wouldn’t be, but do you truly want everyone else staring at me.” Rosie blinked up at Lucy from his position on the couch when realization dawned on him. “I thought so. Now busy yourself with something while I get changed.”

“Yes ma’am.” Rosie said with a sarcastic nod which had Lucy shaking her head at him before disappearing out of the door.

Rosie took to scanning the living room he had basically lived in for the past few days. He wanted to commit it all to memory before he had to leave. At that thought, Rosie dragged a hand over his face - he was leaving in less than two hours and he was leaving her. How he wished he could take her with him and show her the planes that so fascinated her. Most of all he wanted this damned war to end so he could be in her arms for the rest of his life.

His fingers caressed the worn fabric of the couch he was sitting on, he felt more at home here than he had in a while. Rosie didn’t want to leave. He knew his duty and nothing would stop him from that, but how he wished it wasn’t like this. He wished he had met Lucy at a jazz bar, or at a bookstore, when war wasn’t a constant in both of their lives.

He wished the world was different, but unfortunately it wasn’t. All Rosie could do was keep coming back from missions, and now he had another reason to.

“Very well, how do I look?” Lucy’s voice almost made him jump, he had been so lost in his thoughts that Rosie hadn’t heard the creaking of the age old floorboards. He took a few moments to take in his beautiful Lucy. She was wearing a long light yellow dress with black flowers embroidered on the collar.

“You look radiant as always, my dear.” Rosie said, almost breathlessly as he rose from his spot on the sofa and walked over to her. He pressed a kiss to her lips, trying to memorize the feeling of her warm body against his.

“Hmm. Not that this isn’t wonderful, but we need to make lunch. And I wanted to make some sandwiches for your trip back.”

“You really don’t need to do that.” Rosie said as he pulled away from Lucy to look at her in surprise.

“I want to, now come.”

After a quick lunch, Lucy had disappeared into her study to write him a little note - leaving Rosie to do the dishes. She sat down at her desk and stretched her fingers before starting to type.

Dear Rosie,

I know you won’t read this until you get back, but I wanted you to have something to remember me by. I just wanted to say that I love you and I promise to write to you nearly every day and try to call you when I can because I’m not sure I will be able to survive without hearing or reading your words for a day.

You have turned my world into something I never expected. I never expected you, my darling. I wish we could spend more days like this weekend. I will never forget them, I will never forget you. I will always cherish these memories, until we are able to make new ones just like them.

I love you, my dear. Remember that when you’re flying your plane and have your head in the clouds.

All my love,

Lucy

With a final ding of the typewriter, Lucy pulled the paper out and blew a little on the ink before folding it into a neat rectangle. She grabbed Rosie’s copy of The Great Gatsby that had been hanging around the house for the past few days. Opening up the book she slipped the note in between the pages and then picked up her pencil to scribble her name on the inside cover page.

“Now what might you be up to?” Lucy swivelled around to find Rosie leaning on the doorframe. His arms were crossed and he seemed to have been standing there for quite a while.

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

“Oh really? So you didn’t just slip something into my book.”

“Shhh, it’s supposed to be a secret. Be a dear and don’t open it until you get back.” Lucy said as she rose from her seat and placed the book into Rosie’s hands, an easy smile on her face.

“The suspense might kill me but I promise. When do you have to head back to London?”

“Tomorrow. I’m hoping for a new assignment.”

“I’m sure it’s going to be amazing.”

“You better buy a copy of the paper once it’s published.”

“Don’t worry, I will be on the lookout for it.” Rosie’s arms now encircled her waist, and Lucy was sure she was staring at him like a lovesick idiot.

“We better get going if we want to catch your train. You still need to pick up your luggage.”

“I know, but this is much more preferable.”

“Rosie… don’t make this harder than it already is.”

“Alright, alright.” Rosie’s hands rose in a defeated posture, making Lucy choke out a laugh.

“Come on.”

Lucy followed after Rosie as she went to grab the necessary things for leaving the house. She slipped on her shoes and tied the laces while watching Rosie take in the last details of the hallway before he left. He looked contemplative and Lucy wondered what exactly he was thinking about.

Rosie’s curls were all messed up from a night on the couch and from Lucy’s constant tugging and rearranging of them. Lucy thought he looked ethereal standing there in wrinkled clothes and messy hair. For the billionth time she wished she was a painter so she could capture him just like that.

“Ready?” She finally asked. Lucy’s question made Rosie’s eyes travel to her and he gave her a nod before going to open the door.

It felt final to Lucy, she knew she would see him again but there was always a chance, a high chance, that he wouldn’t come back to her. Even if he had promised he would.

She waited outside of the B&B for Rosie to collect his luggage, she had taken to kicking a pebble on the sidewalk and staring at the cracks in the pavement. Watching as the little weeds crept through the cement.

“Lucy… I have everything.” Rosie’s tentative voice broke her out of her thought spiral, making Lucy look over to him to find that he had changed into his uniform and had tamed his curls. He looked handsome, somehow even more handsome than he had while he wore civies. His hat was under his left arm and he held his luggage in the other.

“Well don’t you look handsome?” Rosie rewarded Lucy with a bashful smile and a blush. “Aww, don’t go getting all shy on me now.” Lucy teased as she came up to him and carefully took the hat from under his arm and placed it slightly lopsided on his head. She wrapped her hand around his now free arm and leaned against his shoulder.

The walk to the train station was filled with easy chatter, Lucy was trying to avoid facing the fact that he was leaving (possibly forever) and that she would have to return to a house that would now be void of Rosie. The small platform greeted the pair all too quickly, the station clock showing that it would only be a few minutes before the train that would take Rosie far, far away from her would arrive.

“Rosie, I- I don’t know what to say.”

“I don’t- Lucy, I don’t want this to be goodbye.”

“But you’re leaving, Rosie.”

“I’ll come back.”

“Oh, Rosie, you can’t promise me that.” She smiled tightly at him, and threw her arms around his shoulder. Feeling as he quickly reciprocated the hug. Hot, burning tears started to race down her face.

“I know, I know I can’t, but I promise that I’ll keep trying to come back. To come back to you.”

“I’m going to miss you so much. I love you.” Lucy whispered against his chest, as she let out a choked sob. She felt droplets of water hit her head and she realized that Rosie was crying too.

“And I’m going to miss you, my dear Lucy. I love you too, so much.” Rosie said as he leaned closer to Lucy.

“Promise me you’ll write.”

“Every day. Here, this is my address at the base and the phone number.” Rosie quickly pulled a piece of paper and pencil from his bag and scribbled a note on there, adding a heart for good measure.

The distant sound of the train whistle had Lucy’s heart clenching. She quickly swept away her tears and took the paper from Rosie’s hands. She pulled him in for one last kiss. Feeling as the top of his hat bumped against her forehead and how his lips pressed against hers.

The train whistle got louder and louder, making the urgency of the kiss increase. It felt like a goodbye kiss. Lucy hoped she would get to experience it again but she also knew this might be the last time, so she memorized the pressure and love that seemed to be behind Rosie’s actions. They finally pulled apart, reluctantly, when the train slowed into the station.

“Goodbye, Lucy Everett. Don’t cry, my darling. I’ll always be here. In our memories and in the love you know I hold for you.” Rosie muttered, Lucy stared deep into his eyes and nodded.

“Goodbye, Rosie. I love you so so much, now go.” Rosie smiled sadly and then pulled away from her. Lucy watched as her dear Major stepped onto the train and turned to wave at her and blow her a kiss one last time. She smiled as tears ran down her cheeks and waved back, making her remember that first wave he had sent her all those days ago.

Rosie was back on the train, except this time it wasn’t boiling hot and he was feeling the deep pangs of an aching heart. He missed her so much already and it had only been two hours. He would be arriving in London soon where he would have to change trains to get back to base, but he couldn’t bring himself to do anything except stare at the piece of paper in his hands. He hadn’t opened it yet but he kept stroking the paper as if it would magically make Lucy appear in front of him.

He wanted desperately to ask the train to go back around, to abandon his life so he could run off into the sunset with his sweetheart but he had a job to do. A job which would keep her safe. So he spent the entire time on the train and then the jeep back to base thinking about Lucy’s silky curls and her ringing laughter.

Even Crosby seemed to notice something was up when he was quieter than usual at dinner. He tried to press him about it, but Rosie just brushed him off. Until he realized that Cros was now genuinely looking worried about him.

“Crosby, I’m fine.”

“What the hell happened during your leave that has suddenly turned you into a grouch?”

“I met someone.”

“You met someone?” Crosby tentatively asked.

“A girl.”

“You met a girl?!”

“Crosby, goddammit, quiet down.”

“Jesus, sorry. So you met a girl?”

“Yes.”

“And?”

“And what? I met a girl, fell in love and now I’m dealing with the fact I might never get to see her again.”

“Did you give her your address? Wait- fell in love? Rosie, you scoundrel!”

“It isn’t like that, Cros.”

“Sure. But did you?”

“Yes, I gave her my address. I’m sure she’ll write-”

“There! You see, she loves you too right?”

“Yes.”

“Exactly, you need to stop overthinking this and just allow it to happen.”

“Crosby… I just- I promised I’d come back to her.”

“Then you better do it. You’re one of the best god damned pilots I know, Rosie. If anyone could do it, you can. You’ll make it back and you’ll make gorgeous babies with this girl of yours. What’s her name anyways?”

“Lucy Everett.”

part 2 part 3 part 4

so... thoughts? queries?

also here are the moodboards i've made so far: meet the oc lucy's outfits

there will probably be an epilogue of sorts and some little drabbles/fics scattered around the timeline so let me know if you want to be added to the taglist !!

taglist: @justheretoreadthhx @callumsgirl <33

#rosie rosenthal #robert rosenthal #robert rosie rosenthal #masters of the air #mota #mota spoilers #mota fanfic #mota oc #masters of the air oc #masters of the air x oc #rosie rosenthal x oc #rosie x oc #robert rosenthal x oc #my ocs <3 #harry crosby #nate mann #maria writes

96 notes · View notes

deathbxnny · 11 months

Note

Hi, this is my first time active on tumblr community, English is not my native language, so please forgive me for spelling mistakes <3

I have an idea for s/o Mitsuri (kny) with Blade, Jing Yuan, Dan Heng and Luocha please. who were dying in their arms and praying for another world, when they were reborn, and were turned into ordinary people with an ordinary past. Before I die, I want the reader to ask: "If we were to be reborn in a more beautiful world where there is no pain and loss, would you be my bride?". I am really looking forward to the reactions of the characters in hsr. Hope this angst idea is good enough-

Pray for you when you go, someone often remembers. When you return when someone is waiting. Pray for you to become the best memories in the world. Wishing you a life filled with love and happiness. I really appreciate you for the quality articles <3 Take care of yourself and I love you so much. Sorry for writing so long. (Sorry for the second post, I realized I forgot to add the character's name, so sorry =( )

-----♡

A/N: I know exactly what scene you are referring to here and I'll never recover from it tbh... Also thank you so much for your kind words and for the request! I hope this is okay!<33

Content: Potential Spoilers for kny! (?), Reader dies, hurt/no comfort (kinda), established relationships, angst, mentions of fatal injury, just pain

Reader has no set pronouns! (Though they do refer to themselves as a "Bride" per the request, but that's not outright mentioned here.)

((Not fully proofread))

-----♡

》Jing Yuan

Jing Yuan's usual calm and playful facade drops instantly, when he has your bloody and near lifeless form laying in his arms. He holds you close, knowing that your end is near and that there is nothing he can do now. He tries to still appear so calm and collected like he always is, but it's hard, when the love of his life is dying.

And it becomes even harder, when he hears you utter those heartbreaking words, as you look up at him with pleading, weak eyes. He can't bring himself to speak at first, mainly because he wants to believe that there is still some hope left in saving you. But he is no fool. He knows, that you are doomed.

And so he nods, promising you that he will, his arms holding onto you tighter, when the last breath escaped your lungs and you smile in satisfaction at him, already looking forward to seeing him again.

"Ofcourse, my love... I'll wait eons for your return, if I have to."

-----♡

》Blade

He nearly loses his composure at the sight of you, the blinding rage of the loss he felt in his heart making him nearly dip completely into insanity. Yet he keeps it at bay for a moment, just to hold you in his arms. He's trembling and for once in a very long time, he feels afraid and lost.

Your words make his already broken soul break even harder, burn up into fine ash, until it gets blown away by the wind and leaves a gaping hole in his existence behind. He can't process them at first, wanting to be stubborn even in the face of your inevitable doom. He doesn't want to show, how much this weakened him, just to spite the grim reaper himself.

And yet, it all fails, when he just let's out a pitiful, broken sigh and agrees in pained defeat, just to give you your peace. You smile at him, as the last of your life fades out, your eyes looking right through him. Only then, does he allow himself to break completely.

"Very well... but don't keep me waiting for long... I beg of you."

-----♡

》Dan Heng

Dan Heng didn't know, how you two got to this point. It shouldn't have happened. He should've protected you. And yet, you protected him from the attack. You were bleeding out, your life draining from you faster than he could stop it. Once more, a person he loved dearly was slipping through his fingers and there was nothing he could do.

He felt like a failure, like all of this was his fault. He should've died instead. Not you. And that thought gets only solidified by your heartbreaking, hopeful words. You didn't deserve this fate. You deserved someone much better than him.

And yet, he selfishly agrees to your final wish to bring you satisfaction. Your smile made it worth it, the relief in your eyes before they were drained of their beautiful spark and dulled making all the heartache disappear for only just a moment. Left behind was the emptiness Dan Heng felt, as all he could do was stare down at you in defeat, his heart broken once more. And for good, this time.

"For you, I will do anything, my love. So I'll see you then..."

-----♡

》Luocha

Luocha didn't want to believe, that it was over. That there was nothing he could do for you. He tried everything he could. He was a doctor, surely he could save you from this simple injury, right? But it was no use. You knew it. He knew it. And yet, he still denied it to the bitter end, until you gently grabbed ahold of his arm and just shook your head. A signal, that it was truly over.

And for once, he breaks down, holding you close, begging you not to disappear and yet all you could do was chuckle and utter your last wish for him. It was a promise, that eventually, you'd return to him. You'd find eachother in the next life, you were sure of it.

He was reluctant, still so stubborn and heartbroken to accept your doom, until he did. His soul died with you, when you took your last breath, he swore it. And he blamed himself, for not being able to save you, when he surely should've been able to.

"I'll find you in the in next life and the one after that one too, my dear... I promise you that."

-----♡

A/N: I hope this was alright! It was honestly heartbreaking to write... also thank you for the request!<33

#honkai star rail fanfic #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #honkai star rail #hsr x reader #hsr jing yuan #hsr jing yuan x reader #hsr blade x reader #hsr blade #hsr dan heng #hsr dan heng x reader #hsr luocha #hsr luocha x reader #hsr

293 notes · View notes

upindreamland · 1 year

Text

Obvious - Chris Evans

Chris Evans x fem!victoria secret model reader (she/her pronouns) oneshot

Request: a request where reader is famous victoria secret model and she is married to chris evans (fluff)

Italics mean flashback

Warnings: None. Just a lot of fluff. Please let me know if I missed anything.

AN: I hope you like it. I tried my best to mention the model aspect of it so I hope it’s what you were looking for. Please enjoy! (also I made the tweet gif myself so it’s not the best…)

-----------------------

Y/N'S POV

Once I got inside our house, I let out a long sigh while finally being able to put down my bags. Taking in the scene around me, it looked exactly the same as Chris and I left it before our trip. Deciding to leave my suitcases near the front door I made my way up to our bedroom. Knowing how I needed time to relax, Chris dropped me off and went to buy some groceries for this week.

Once I made it to the bedroom, I changed out of my airport clothes and into some sweats and a baggy t-shirt. Laying on my side of the bed, I decided to scroll through Twitter to waste some time before Chris got home. While scrolling, one tweet caught my eye:

Wondering exactly what they were talking about I clicked on the replies. One reply had attached the clip:

Seeing the way Chris was looking at me made me fall in love with him even more. Since the beginning of my career, I thought that if I were to date someone, they would only see the Victoria Secret Model side of me. I was scared that they wouldn’t accept the other parts of me that weren’t the perfect model they see in public. I’m glad that I was able to find someone who has looked at me the same way as he did when he first saw me all those years ago. I was getting flashbacks to a scenario just like this - the time when Chris and I first met.

I was sitting outside in the backyard feeling out of place at a party at some famous person’s house that I didn’t even know. There were still a good amount of people around me but not as many as there were inside. Looking up at the sound of someone clearing their voice I’m shocked to see Chris Evans standing right in front of me. Chris emerged into the spotlight a couple of months before me when “Not Another Teen Movie” came out.

“Is this seat taken?” Chris said pointing to the seat next to me.

Recovering from my shock I shake my head no.

“You don’t know the host either huh?” He asked.

“Was it that obvious?” I ask, feeling my cheeks heat up.

“Kind of. You’re Y/N right?”

“You… You know my name?”

“I mean yeah why wouldn’t I? You have been all over the magazines as the up and coming Victoria Secret model. I should be asking you how you know me…”

“Who said I knew you?”

“Oh darling don’t act coy. Your face said it all when I came over here.”

“Oh sorry I confused you with that hot dude named Jake Wyler in that one movie.”

“So you think I’m hot?”

“I never said that!”

The rest of the night went by super fast. Chris and I just sat there talking about everything and anything. It was relieving talking to someone who understood the craziness of being young and becoming famous so quickly.

Feeling my phone buzz I looked down to see that my manager was texting me to remind me that I had a shoot tomorrow and I should head back home soon. Feeling disappointed that I would have to end our conversation I looked up at Chris and said

“Sorry to have to cut this short but I have to get going, I have a photo shoot in the morning.”

Something flashed across Chris’ face when I said that.

Before I could figure it out he responded with: “Oh okay. Bye”

Waiting to see if he would say anything else, he went to open up his mouth but quickly closed it. When he opened it again he said, “Hope to see you again soon”

And with that I walked away. Not knowing when I would be able to see him again.

The next day my best friend texted me a link to an article. Opening it up I was surprised to see my name along with Chris’ name on the title. Scanning through the article there was a recording of Chris and I last night at the party. Some time during our conversation someone recorded Chris and I talking to each other. More specifically it was me talking about whatever and Chris looking at me with so much adoration. Feeling bummed knowing that I wouldn’t be able to see him again I went through my day getting ready for my photo shoot.

While on the way to the studio, I decided to stop by my favorite coffee shop, The Little Cafe. I didn’t know why at the time but while I was about to open the door, I got nervous. Turns out that this coffee shop was going to be the place where my relationship with Chris would start.

When I opened up the door, I was immediately struck with the smell of freshly ground coffee beans. Ordering my drink and sitting down to wait, a shadow came over me. Looking up I was shocked.

“Funny seeing you here” Chris said.

“Definitely, I didn’t expect to run into you here. I was just thinking about you.” I responded.

“Oh you've been thinking of me?” He said with a small smirk forming on his face.

Rather than trying to explain it to him, I decided to pull my phone out and show the article my friend sent me.

“Oh wow I didn’t know I was that obvious”. He responded after the video was over.

“What do you mean?” I asked confused.

“Well for starters I thought you were really pretty and wanted to get to know you. While you were talking I couldn’t help but get lost in how normal our exchange felt.”

I was speechless.

“Then, when you told me you had to leave I was trying to find the courage to ask for your number but I got scared. I’ve been beating myself up over it all night. Now that you are here though, I’m not going to let that happen again. So can I get your number and maybe if you’re up for it go out on a date with me?”

I was even more speechless. Not knowing what to say, I just nodded and handed him my phone. When he handed it back to me I didn’t know what to say. I went to respond but was pulled out of the moment when my phone started ringing with my manager's name on the screen. Sending him a disappointed smile I promised to text him and answered the phone call.

Ever since then, it’s been history.

“Y/N?”

Taken out of my flashback I realized that Chris was now standing in front of me.

“Are you okay?”

“Huh? Oh yeah I’m fine I was just scrolling through Twitter.”

“Uh oh. What happened this time?” Chris asked, worry written all over his face.

“Nothing bad this time. It’s just a clip of you at the show.”

“Oh really. Let me see.”

Showing it to him I could see a blush rising to his cheeks.

“Huh I guess I’m still pretty obvious when it comes to how much I love you.” Chris said.

Now it was my turn to blush. I was at a loss for words once again. Through the ups and downs of both of our careers - like not seeing each other for weeks on end due to both of our busy schedules, - he has still stuck by my side and supported me no matter what. He still looks at me with that same type of adoration he had the first time we met at the party. I couldn’t have chosen a better husband to be there to support me while I do what I love.

“Come on downstairs. I got you coffee from The Little Cafe while I was out.”

I will never fall out of love with this man.

-----------------

AN: THE END!! I hope you enjoyed it. Sorry if it’s all over the place. Also thank you for the request. This will be my first one ever.

374 notes · View notes

writethrough · 2 years

Text

You Mean the World

(Lucifer Morningstar x Female Reader)

Synopsis: Lucifer gets a call that there was a murder at your workplace. He's never been more terrified.

Warnings: Mention of murder, suggestive situation (barely), drinking (Reader is 21+)

Word Count: 2071

A/N: It's official, my first fic is up! I hope you enjoy it! I'd love to hear what you think!

You weren’t answering his texts.

Sure, he knew you were busy with your classes, but it never took you more than an hour to respond. Even if it was a quick thumbs up to pacify him, you always got back to him.

“Lucifer,” Chloe said. “We’ve gotta go.”

“A new case, detective?” he asked, trying to give his usual enthusiasm.

“Possible homicide at the university.”

His body felt hot and cold at the same time. His fingers icy and heart pounding as he raced out of the station with Chloe barely keeping up.

Every scenario seemed to pass through his head in the blink of an eye. You stabbed, shot, bludgeoned, bruised. Maybe pushed down a staircase or even out a window. In each vision you had suffered so much pain, and he couldn’t protect you.

He tried to take a calming breath. They knew nothing about the victim yet. It may not be you. Maybe you were holed up in your office or grabbing a coffee with your coworker. Maybe you weren’t aware there had been a murder in the first place. Maybe you were still safe.

Maybe you weren’t.

—

Six months ago, you and your friends had wandered into Lux. You had just made tenure and your coworkers insisted on taking you out to celebrate.

It was your first time in the club, but your closest friend, Gemma, assured you this was the spot for any occasion. Though, she always was one for a good party.

“Alright, Miss Tenure, your assignment tonight is to let loose!” Gemma cheered, holding out a shot for you.

As an answer, you downed the drink, grinning as the rest of your group followed suit.

The night was filled with dancing, more drinking, and a bit of flirting. Thankfully, the two guys that approached you backed off once you said you weren’t interested.

You were pleasantly buzzed by the time Lucifer spotted you. You were smiling and laughing as two of your friends twirled each other. The heels you wore were bothering you, so you were sitting, happy that your coworkers were letting off the stress of the semester.

You hadn’t even noticed him come up beside you until he spoke.

“Is this seat taken?” He gestured with a finger toward the chair beside you.

You recognized him right away. After all, it wasn’t everyday you read an article about a man named Lucifer Moringstar.

“Does the owner really have to ask to have a seat?” you quipped.

He chuckled. “He does when he’s actually interested in who’s in the seat beside him.”

And you weren’t sure if it was his looks or the accent or the confidence he gave off, but you let him.

It was one of the best decisions you ever made.

For the entirety of the night, you talked. He found you captivating and vice versa. He flirted, of course, but he was also clever. And Lord help you when a man was smart and charming, and funny, and sexy, and—

Needless to say, you were smitten by the end of the night. You hadn’t realized your friends had steered clear of your table until Gemma interrupted you asking if you wanted to share a ride with her.

You hoped you hid your disappointment well, but it didn’t matter how attracted you were to Lucifer, talking was as far as you were going tonight.

He was a little deflated when you said you had to leave, but when you pulled a pen from your bag and jotted your number on a napkin, he nearly jumped for joy.

He had kissed you on the cheek, and you left the club a blushing mess. And when you received a text a half hour later that said, “Hope you got home safe,” your heart warmed. Smart, charming, funny, sexy, and sweet.

You started texting everyday, and the following weekend, he asked you out. Soon you were official and sleeping over at each others’ places.

Once, after being thoroughly taken care of by Lucifer, you laid in your bed, his head on your chest, running the tips of your fingers over his scalp.

It was peaceful, the kind that so rarely occurred.

“Can I tell you something,” he whispered, thumb grazing your ribs.

“Anything,” you said, simply.

“I love it here,” he said, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. “I love being in your home. It’s…It’s warm. It’s completely and utterly you…and I love it.”

You kissed the top of his head. You knew exactly what he meant. His penthouse comforted you. Everything in it was entirely him and when you were within those walls, it was like nothing could ever touch you.

But there was something about him being in your space. He fit so well amongst your plush couch and cream-colored bedspread. It was like the picture you were trying to paint was finally complete.

“I love when you’re here, too,” you said. And because it felt right, because it felt easy, you continued, “I love you.”

You felt his smile against your collarbone. “I love you, too.”

Afterward, you both seemed to say those three little words all the time. And even though Lucifer was ready to shout it from the rooftop, you had asked if he was okay with keeping your relationship private. Between his reputation within LA culture—personal and professional—and your career, you wanted to have one aspect of your life that was completely yours. No outside opinions allowed.

Lucifer agreed, but to say he kept his mouth shut wouldn’t have been true. He couldn’t help it though, he was proud of you. Of everything you’d accomplished, of calling you his, he was practically buzzing to tell Chloe little bits about you and rub it in Dan’s face that you were the most amazing woman in the universe—present company excluded, of course. Though, neither Chloe nor Ella seemed to mind if their amused smirks were anything to go by.

To his credit, Lucifer never revealed anything that would go against your wishes. He mostly raved about your sense of humor, your intelligence, and your appearance.

He was totally, completely, and irrevocably in love with you.

—

When they arrived at the scene, all he could see was a crowd outside the police tape. Students, professors, and staff gathered to get a glimpse of the corpse.

Ella was photographing the victim's face—a woman.

Lucifer’s breath hitched.

What shoes had you put on this morning? He couldn’t remember. Did you own a pair of maroon flats? Why couldn’t he remember what you had been wearing?

For a moment, he couldn’t take his eyes away from the victim. It was only when he caught Dan’s voice that his gaze strayed.

Then he could breathe again.

There. Talking to the walking bore, you stood, a blanket draped around your shoulders.

He didn’t register he’d been moving until he was right in front of you, pulling you to him and burying his face in your neck.

—

You sunk into Lucifer’s embrace. It had been a shock to find your coworker lifeless beside the fountain. However, you counted yourself lucky it wasn’t one of the students who discovered her.

Lucifer gripped you tighter as you inhaled shakily. The adrenaline still coursed through you, but you knew when you eventually dropped, he’d be there to steady you.

He reluctantly pulled back, cupping your face.

“Are you alright, darling?” he asked, searching your eyes.

“I’m not hurt,” you said. It wasn’t a lie. Physically, you were fine.

He nodded, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead.

Someone cleared their throat.

“Excuse me, but how do you two know each other?” Detective Espinosa asked, not bothering to mask his surprise.

“We’re dating,” Lucifer said, not taking his eyes off you.

“That’s why you booked it out of the station,” a woman said, having already spoken with the forensic analyst.

You could only imagine what had been running through Lucifer’s head.

“When you didn’t answer my texts, I…well I…” He swallowed, and you intertwined your fingers and nodded. He didn’t have to finish.

“I’m sorry for worrying you,” you whispered.

He shook his head. “You found the body, didn’t you?”

You nodded, realizing you had been in the middle of giving your statement before Lucifer showed up.

“Do you have any more questions, detective?” you asked.

“No. Go home and rest. If we need anything else, well, at least we know how to contact you,” Detective Espinosa said, glancing at Lucifer.

“I’ll be going with her, detective,” Lucifer said to the woman—Chloe, if you were to guess.

“Of course.” She turned to you. “I’m sorry this is how we had to be introduced.”

“Me too. But at least I know you’ll find who did this,” you said. You had celebrated more closed cases with Lucifer than not. If the murderer was going to be brought to justice, it’d be by this team.

She gave you a small smile. “Take some time for yourself. We’ll update you as soon as we can.”

You thanked her before Lucifer led you toward your office to collect your things and drove you back to his penthouse.

Maze seemed to sense your state because she brought up a bottle of top-shelf bourbon, squeezed your shoulder, and left without a word.

You stayed as close to Lucifer as possible, only separating to slip into comfortable shorts and one of his rarely used t-shirts. You were pretty sure he only bought them and put them on so you’d wear them.

“Are you hungry? Can I get you anything?” he asked, rubbing your arm.

You shook your head as best you could as it rested on his chest.

You weren’t hungry, you weren’t really anything. You thought you’d feel something. There was the initial shock, the flash of fear and worry of the murderer lingering on campus and the students safety, but then nothing.

The victim was your coworker. Not someone in your department, but you saw her almost everyday walking to class. A fixture in your routine.

“I keep waiting to feel something,” you whispered.

His thumb stopped its movement for a second then resumed.

“I just…I know how I’m supposed to feel, but I’m just…not,” you said.

“Everyone processes grief differently. You will go at the pace you need,” he said.

“I know that, I do, but…it feels wrong that I’m not crying or angry or confused.” You sighed. “Of course I’m angry in the general sense—someone was killed—but I don’t feel any anger.” You fisted the shirt Lucifer changed into, acknowledging at that point that you were still shaking. “And yet my body seems to be feeling what it should.”

Lucifer placed his hand over yours.

“I can’t tell you how scared I was when we got the call,” he said. “All I could think about was you, gone, and every way I could get you back even if it was the last thing I did.”

You shifted so you could meet his gaze. Remnants of fear. The what-ifs bounced around in his head.

“I’m right here,” you said, cupping his cheek.

“I know.” He kissed your palm, then continued to rub your shoulder. “I’m always here if you need me. I could even set up an appointment with Linda if you’d like.”

You couldn’t help the small smile. “Wouldn’t that be a conflict of interest? You being a client and having slept with her?”

He shrugged. “Something tells me she’ll be fine with it.”

You chuckled. “Cheeky devil,” you said affectionately.

“Well, of course, darling.” He grinned, pulling you closer.

You sighed and snuggled into him.

“Get some sleep, love. I’ll be right here when you wake up,” he whispered, already feeling your body sink into him.

You hummed, and a few minutes later, you were out.

—

Lucifer watched you, afraid to look away after every dark thought that raced through him.

You were safe.

He repeated it. Safe. Safe. Safe.

He focused on your breathing. The softness of your cheek pressing into his chest. The curve of your shoulder. You were in his arms, and you were safe.

He inhaled, took all of that knowledge with him, held it there, and then exhaled. It calmed him. Brought him back to the present.

It had only been six months, but you had become everything to him. His entire world laid beside him, and he’d be damned again if he let anything harm you.

#lucifer morningstar #lucifer x reader #lucifer on netflix #lucifer fanfiction #lucifer tv #lucifer x y/n #Lucifer Morningstar fanfiction #Lucifer fanfic #Lucifer x you

447 notes · View notes

luvmmarner · 7 months

Text

Mitch Marner - Happier

This is one of the older works of mine, so my writing style is pretty different. It's a reupload since it was just gone for some reason. TW: not much but heartbreak. PART OF THE SOUR SERIES

ᴡᴇ ʙʀᴏᴋᴇ ᴜᴘ ᴀ ᴍᴏɴᴛʜ ᴀɢᴏ

ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ᴍɪɴᴇ, ʏᴏᴜ ᴋɴᴏᴡ, ɪ ᴋɴᴏᴡ

ʏᴏᴜ'ᴠᴇ ᴍᴏᴠᴇᴅ ᴏɴ, ꜰᴏᴜɴᴅ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴏɴᴇ ɴᴇᴡ

ᴏɴᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ɢɪʀʟ ᴡʜᴏ ʙʀɪɴɢꜱ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴇᴛᴛᴇʀ ɪɴ ʏᴏᴜ

You and Mitch called it quits after being together for a little over a year, it was something that was going to happen at some point. But you didn’t think it was going to happen so soon, not even a day before you broke up he said he loved you. Your relationship wasn’t exactly ‘toxic’ but you both argued on almost everything. It was certainly unhealthy and you couldn’t deny that.

Right after the breakup, you didn’t know what to do. You had friends from the other guys' girlfriends, but even then they weren’t the friends you could entirely trust. You had no clue that Mitch moved on until they told you.

You didn’t believe it at first. How could he move on so quickly, after being together for well over a year. It was then you started to believe after clicking on stories of the team girlfriends that you did believe. Even though you were hurt and broken you hoped that this new girl brought out the better in him.

ʙᴜᴛ ꜱʜᴇ'ꜱ ꜱᴏ ꜱᴡᴇᴇᴛ, ꜱʜᴇ'ꜱ ꜱᴏ ᴘʀᴇᴛᴛʏ

ᴅᴏᴇꜱ ꜱʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴀɴ ʏᴏᴜ ꜰᴏʀɢᴏᴛ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴍᴇ?

You’ve been creeping their instagrams more specifically his new girl that you later found out was named ‘Lyla’. There was no doubt she was pretty, her instagrams were flunked with pictures of them. There were constant articles as well saying how she was so sweet and Mitch even agreed on an interview saying ‘how lucky he was’.

It was like he forgot about you. You weren’t even mentioned in any of his interviews. The interviewers were all focused on her and so was Mitch. You couldn’t recall the amount of times you broke down after that. You couldn’t hold your tears anymore.

ᴏʜ, ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ʜᴀᴘᴘʏ

ʙᴜᴛ ɴᴏᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ʜᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴍᴇ

ɪ'ᴍ ꜱᴇʟꜰɪꜱʜ, ɪ ᴋɴᴏᴡ, ɪ ᴄᴀɴ'ᴛ ʟᴇᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ɢᴏ

It’s been 2 months since you and him broke up. Even if you did wish for him to be happy, you loved him. But you also wished that it was you instead of her. You knew that could never happen, you guys could never happen again. You didn’t want him to be unhappy like how he was when he was with you.

He looked so much happier. But it was hard to still get over the fact that you two broke up. You knew it was selfish. You were being selfish. Even after so much time passed you still couldn’t let him go. You didn’t even make any attempts at letting go and moving on. You just couldn’t.

ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ʜᴀᴘᴘʏ

ɪ ᴡɪꜱʜ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴇꜱᴛ, ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ

ꜱᴀʏ ʏᴏᴜ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ʜᴇʀ, ʙᴀʙʏ, ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ɴᴏᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ʟᴏᴠᴇᴅ ᴍᴇ

ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ᴏꜰ ᴍᴇ ꜰᴏɴᴅʟʏ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʜᴀɴᴅꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ᴏɴ ʜᴇʀ

ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ʜᴀᴘᴘʏ, ʙᴜᴛ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʙᴇ ʜᴀᴘᴘɪᴇʀ

The last straw that made you move on was a photo of his hands wrapped around her, both of them were smiling and looked so happy. Your body hoped that he would think about you whenever he touches her. But your mind was constantly thinking if he was happy, just not happier.

After a while you found yourself moving back to your home town montreal. You didn’t want to see the jerseys of the Toronto maple leafs, especially marner’s jersey. It always felt like a stab in the back. So you moved.

You also got a new dog named Fluffy, a brown chocolate lab. She comforted you every time you had a breakdown which was pretty rare ever since she laid beside you. As you laid in your bed, you decided you wanted to end things off in a good way. So you opened your phone and sent one last text.

"I wish you all the best really"

#nhl hockey #hockey #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #nhl #angst #hockey angst #nhl sour #sour series #mitch marner imagine #mitch marner #mitch marner angst #nhl angst #pure angst #heart break

43 notes · View notes

daybreakx · 2 years

Text

✄ pairing: frenemie’s ex! Seonghwa x gn! reader.

✄ genre: strangers to lovers, angst, fluff.

✄ summary: when you agreed to go on a blind date, you didn’t expect it to be with your friend’s ex, and to make things worse, you didn’t expect to like him that much.

✄ word count: 4.9k

✄ warnings: it is said mc dates both men and women, mentions of food and drinks, hospitals, a broken wrist, mc being called names. this is unedited, please bear with my mistakes.

✄ a/n: this is for the leftovers collab by @dulceamar! this was so much fun, please do check out the other participants’ works!♡ also i am so so sorry this was so late.

✄ rule #2

You are being stood up on Valentine’s Day.

It’s not a big deal, though. Or so you try to make everyone think every time they sneak a glance at you, that ‘oh no, poor thing’ look on their faces before they whisper to their companion. You are being stood up on Valentine’s Day and so what?

Okay, maybe it is a big deal. Because everyone is staring at you, and you know that no matter how many glasses of sparkling water with lemon you order, the server is going to ask you to give up your table if you don’t order actual food. It doesn’t matter how bad they feel for you.

You want to kill San. That’s what you think about as you crush the little pieces of the free bread between two fingers, letting crumbs fall on your lap. To hell with keeping up a good appearance, who’s going to compliment you on it now, anyway? Certainly not San’s friend, the one who was supposed to be here thirty five minutes ago, attending the blind date which the former set up for you two.

Things always go wrong when you accept your friends’ attempts at getting you a partner. You had fallen victim to this project more than a couple times, when they promised they had found ‘just the right person’ for you. The first one was a guy who couldn’t and wouldn’t stop talking about himself at the dinner Mina set up for the two of you—which he made you pay for, along with his Uber back home. And then texted you that you weren’t as good looking as Mina had promised, so it was better that you never spoke again.

The next time it was a girl. She was pretty and you had a lot of things in common, she was funny and thought you attractive as well. But, she was also extremely in love with her ex. Yes you were attractive, but her ex had the prettiest eyes. Of course you were smart, but her ex had published articles in important magazines. And then she cried about her break up while you held her hand and ordered ice cream delivery for both of you.

But at least neither had put you through the humiliation of being stood up on the one holiday that celebrates love and looks down on people like you: single, loveless people.

“I am so sorry I’m late there was–” there’s a guy standing opposite you, one hand gripping the back of the chair tightly while he holds a small bouquet of half withered roses in the other. “y/n?”

You look up from the very angry, already three paragraph long text you’re writing to San. You guess he knows your name because San had to tell him, obviously. But there’s that particular way he says it that immediately has your eyes widening. There has to be thousands of people who share your name, and thousands who share his. So what are the chances that the guy who is standing in front of you, your date, is your friend’s ex?

“Oh,” you mutter, standing up awkwardly. Suddenly overly self-conscious about your crumb-filled lap. “Hi, Seonghwa.”

You understand why San has no idea why this is a problem. He barely knows Eunhee, he never saw her with Seonghwa, probably… He wouldn’t do this on purpose. Even you barely saw Seonghwa with Eunhee. Their relationship was lightning quick and pretty intense, if you are to believe Eunhee, who has a flair for the dramatic, and maybe to threading bits of lies in the big panorama of what actually happened.

You know Seonghwa from the couple of times he picked Eunhee up at work. The exchanges between you being a couple of ‘Hi, how are you?’s on too long lift rides to yours and Eunhee’s shared office.

“Sorry I’m late,” he repeats, the same recognition shining in his eyes. “I–there was a lot of work to do and–” Seonghwa doesn’t like throwing out excuses, but it’s the truth. And he already feels bad enough about making you wait.

“It’s alright,” you soothe, “I know.”

Seonghwa is on his way to become a Cardiologist, which already keeps him busy enough. You remember Eunhee complaining about it, how the only thing that matters to him is the hospital and other people’s hearts. Not hers.

You're surprised he’s even out of the hospital on Valentine’s Day. Guessing the doctors who have a higher ranking than he does are the ones who can leave.

He hands you the flowers, wincing as a few pink petals fall to the ground in a flutter. This is a mess, he knows. “Please,” he gestures to the chair.

“Actually,” you say, your lip moving slightly to the left, in a wince. This is inappropriate, isn’t it? There’s some kind of rule somewhere that says you’re not supposed to date your friends’ exes. The thought that those kinds of rules only apply to people in High School flashes through your mind, but you know it’s not like that. And Eunhee would never forgive you for this. “I think I should go.”

The people around you, the ones who have witnessed the night unfold, pause. They’re not even discreet about it, leaving the food halfway to their mouths to give you an ‘are you serious right now?’ look. They saw you on the brink of tears, drinking your sorry sparkling water and chewing on small pieces of bread, only to have a perfectly good looking guy finally show up and reject him.

You finally stare back at them. Because you’re not embarrassed anymore and frankly, they need to start minding their own business. It’s Valentine’s Day for goodness sake, can’t they focus on themselves? There’s probably an engagement ring hidden in tiramisu out there, you’re not supposed to be the main focus.

Seonghwa doesn’t think of himself as a mind reader. If he did—or if he was one— his personal relationships wouldn’t fail as often as they do. But he knows what you’re thinking even before you voice it: Eunhee. He is Eunhee’s ex, and you are Eunhee’s friend and there has to be some kind of rule somewhere that says you two can’t fraternize.

“Please stay,” he pleads gently. He’s already done the most to ruin your night, and he doesn’t want you to go without making it up to you at least a little bit. And he knows wilted flowers are definitely not the way. “Let’s have dinner,” he finally notices the way the customers around are staring at the two of you and another pang of guilt goes through him. “Friendly dinner.”

You half-smile at his words, knowing he’s trying to take any implication off this whole situation. This is stupid, you’re grown-ups, these things are not supposed to matter, right? But then again, you remember Eunhee holding a Kleenex box against her chest while she told you about the break-up on your lunch break.

“Sure,” you finally sit back down, leaving the flowers on one side of the table, more petals flying down to the ground. You can only guess how many hours Seonghwa has been working judging by how tired he looks, he deserves a break and a nice meal. “The bread’s really good,” you nod towards the almost empty basket between you two, a small on your lips again.

This elicits a laugh from Seonghwa before he gives you an apologetic look from above his menu. “I’m so sorry I was late.”

You shrug. “I only accept apologies—” ‘in cash’ is the ending that you tend to use with Mina and San. “–In dessert.”

Sure, you can be friendly with Seonghwa. Being friends is not the kind of thing that’s forbidden. Plus, he is friends with San. How come you never actually met him if he’s friends with San?

“Deal,” Seonghwa smiles, and before anything else can be added, someone actually finds an engagement ring hidden in the tiramisu, and the restaurant is flooded with clapping. The world falls back on course. It’s Valentine’s Day and love is to be celebrated.

“So,” Eunhee plops down in her spinning chair, eyes barely leaving the screen of her phone to look at you, hinting she’s in fact talking to you. “How was your blind date?”

“It was okay,” you smile, still typing on your laptop. “It actually–”

“You’ll never guess what?” she interrupts, spinning once. “Yena invited Seonghwa to her Valentine’s Day party.”

“Oh,” you know your turn to tell your story is over before it has begun, and you’re somehow glad especially by the immediate mention of the ex-boyfriend you saw last night. “Did he go?”

You want her to say no more than anything. Because what if that meant he was late to your dinner because he was at said party? One that Yena and Eunhee made a point of speaking about in front of you constantly, only to never extend an invitation.

“It’s so painfully obvious they want us back together. Like, why would you invite him otherwise?”

“But did he go?” You question again, the typing finally stopping.

“Well, no,” Eunhee lets out a sigh, rolling her eyes. “He was probably at that stup– at work.”

“Right,” you nod, fingers hovering above the keys on your laptop. “And do you want him? Back I mean.”

Eunhee seems to consider this for a second. Enough for you to feel a rock drop from your throat to your stomach, settling in there with the weight of guilt.

“Do you know how much money doctors earn a year?” She questions, eyes back on her phone as she taps away rapidly.

“A lot?” You try, wondering where this question comes from.

“A lot,” she nods, puckering her lips in a thoughtful gesture. “And I think it’s time I start looking out for my future, you know? You never have enough money.”

She’s right, though. Money can never really be enough, especially if you come from a middle-class family and you’re neck deep in school debt. Which is not her case, at all. Eunhee’s family is New Money, her mother created some magical skincare line when Eunhee was a child and the rest was history. But you guessed she kind of felt that, if she became rich overnight, the opposite could happen just as fast.

You shrug. “I guess, you’re right.”

There are two knocks on your door and Yena’s head pops through before either of you can tell her to come in.

“Are you ready to start working?” She tells cheerfully. “It’s my turn to be on the video.”

You groan internally. Not because Yena wants to be on the video, but because you hate making them. However the boom of those silly short videos did earn you a bonus a couple months ago, so you keep them coming for the sake of also keeping your job.

“Let’s do it!” Eunhee joins in Yena’s excitement, both smiling mischievously at you. “Come on y/n, the long face won’t look good on camera!”

“I don’t want to be on camera,” you whine, taking your phone from the desk. “But let’s go.”

You have a few unopened messages, from San and Mina and one unregistered number. You decide to deal with all of them later, especially with San who you’re having lunch with to discuss last night.

“Well, I don’t see what the problem is,” San shrugs, looking over his shoulder to check if your food is finally on the way. “Did you like Seonghwa?”

Of course you liked Seonghwa. He was sweet and attentive and paid for the whole dinner. After the initial awkwardness there wasn’t another such moment, he spent a good twenty minutes drawing a very accurate depiction of the human heart on a napkin to explain the latest case they got at the hospital, and when it was your turn to talk about your job he didn’t treat it as anything other than the most interesting thing he could possibly think of.

“It is a problem, because it’s kind of a rule” you groan again, not surprised he doesn’t get it. “Just like, you can’t date your best friend’s brother OR your brother’s best friend.”

“That’s stupid,” San rolls his eyes, “Those are rom-com rules, y/n. They’re needed for the plot, this is real life.”

“Those kinds of things still apply,”

“We’re not in high school,” San shakes his head, already over this conversation. “Look, I had no idea he was your coworker’s ex. If it bothers you so much, then don’t see him again. Even if this was the only date that has worked for either of you in a while.”

“What did he tell you?”

“I’m not going to tell you if you’re going to be in your teen drama episode,” he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Fine. Teen drama episode is over,” you smile, raising your eyebrows. “What did he say?”

Seonghwa doesn’t have the greatest luck when it comes to dating. Sure he’s had his fair share of partners, from high school to college, to residency…Well, that doesn’t matter. The point is he doesn’t have good luck. His relationships always end. Whether on good or bad terms also comes with a tendency, which inclines towards everything being his fault.

Whether it’s his job, or that lack of connection that eventually leads to trouble, he hasn’t managed to maintain a relationship for longer than 6 months.

Eunhee was not the exception.

Seonghwa had been extremely attracted to her when they met. She was nice and sweet, and beautiful, of course. But as their relationship progressed, Seonghwa realized they might not be as compatible as he thought at first. He didn’t like it when his relationships failed, but at some point, when the ultimatum came and Eunhee told him it was either her or his career, he had to choose the one he’d known the longest.

He felt bad about it of course, especially with all the heat he’d gotten from her and her friends on social media about how he only cared about his career and never about other people’s feelings. He’d stepped away from the dating scene enough to let San convince him of going on a blind date, and surprisingly he had loved it.

But you hadn’t called him back.

He’d sent you flowers the day after the date and texted you after getting your number from San. Seonghwa felt like giving you a call directly may be a little invasive so he’d suggested you let him know when you could talk. But it hadn’t happened.

Maybe karma was finally reaching him, he’d liked you a lot, and now it seemed like you didn’t like him one bit.

Then, what were you doing at the hospital he worked at?

“y/n?”

You look up from the ground, eyes lightening recognition. “Oh, hi Seonghwa,”

“Are you okay?” His thoughts about your date finally flying away. “Are you hurt?”

You are in the ugly yellow chairs in the waiting room, hands wrapped around your phone as your foot taps on the ground. “I’m fine. I’m just here waiting for someone,” your eyes wander to the ER room, where Gaeun is.

The intern at your publicity company is hardworking enough that, trying to finish the job as fast as possible, she fell from a ladder and broke her wrist. And you had to join her on the trip to the hospital because you were the only one who wasn’t too squeamish about her broken hand.

“Is everything okay? Do you want me to ask for an update?” Seonghwa suggests once again, scanning you as if to prove you’re not really hurt.

“It’s our intern, she broke her wrist today at work, an unfortunate accident while cleaning up a set.” You explain calmly, giving Seonghwa a faint smile.

You’re grateful he’s offering, but you’re also a little anxious about his presence. Mostly because you’re embarrassed about ghosting him. It wasn’t on purpose, though. After Valentine’s Day, the company wanted you to hurry and go on to the next campaigns quickly, Spring and Easter were a lot of work.

“Do you want a coffee while you wait?” Seonghwa offers next, hands going inside the pockets of his white coat. You don’t really want to take his whole appearance in detail, he’s dangerously handsome as it is. “The cafeteria is not bad at all.”

“Aren’t you busy?” You question, but you’re already getting up from your chair. You could use the caffeine and the company, even if you’re afraid it might be awkward.

Seonghwa shakes his head before gesturing for you to lead the way down the hall.

Your nerves ease as you sit on the steel chair and Seonghwa deposits a cup of black coffee in front of you. Gaeun is getting a cast and her sister is on the way to the hospital, things are starting to look up.

“Sorry about your friend,” Seonghwa says, emptying a sugar packet on his coffee. “Must have been scary.”

“It was. But she will be okay, right?” you raise your eyebrows at him and he nods with a small smile. “She’ll be getting a few days off too.”

“That’s great,”

“Look, Seonghwa,” you start, your mouth in a slight wince, “I’m really sorry about completely ghosting you. The job excuse is lame, but it’s true, I’m just flooded. It’s February 18th and we’re already behind.”

“It’s okay, really. I know I didn’t make the greatest impression at our date,” he cringes, looking down at the table. “I’m really sorry about it.”

“I had a great time, it wasn’t that,” you assure, smiling at him. “I also really liked the flowers, Eun—” you stop yourself from mentioning Eunhee a little too late. She was obsessed with the flowers, taking around 20 pictures to post on her Instagram. What she didn’t tell you is that she wanted to get a reaction out of Seonghwa by doing so.

“I’m glad you liked them, and that you had a good time too, even after how messy it started.” Seonghwa chose to ignore the mention of his ex-girlfriend.

San said Seonghwa enjoyed the date too, and insisted on how ridiculous it was that you let a former relationship, one that hadn’t even lasted long enough, get in the way of getting to know Seonghwa more.

“It’s okay, I understand.”

You don’t want any more blind dates, you don't want to go through the whole process of getting to know someone and finding out your friends had got it wrong again, or matching with a person on a dating app just to realize they’d been lying about their real personality all along.

“Would you like to have coffee another time? Outside of here?” you ask, leaving your now empty cup on the table. “Don’t get me wrong, the coffee is good, but I don't really like hospitals.”

Seonghwa chuckles. “I would like that, yes. I promise to be on time.”

“Just promise to try your best,” you shake your head in amusement, “And remember apologies come in dessert.”

You tell yourself you keep it private because everything in the world is already public enough as it is. People can see where you went to school just by finding your Facebook profile, they can know your real time location via Instagram, they learn some of your deepest thoughts if they scroll through your Twitter likes.

But this is just Seonghwa and yours.

It’s mid May now, and you’ve been seeing each other nonstop after sharing the hospital coffee. He tries his best, just like he promised, to make it on time every time you have a date and you try your best not to forget to text him back. And so far, it’s working out perfectly fine.

“Oh y/n, please let us use it!” Yena begs, touching a red petal with the tip of her index finger. “We will get it back to you in one piece.”

“I don’t know, they seem fragile. I would like to keep them here,” you try to sound as reasonable as possible, which isn’t enough to get through Yena and Eunhee once they have an idea in mind.

They’re both on their way to become influencers and finally leave this job. Eunhee has the upper-hand with her makeup tutorials and the sponsorship from her mom’s company, but Yena isn’t too far behind. And they’re both always looking for free props to use on their videos.

“Is this still the guy from the blind date?” Eunhee asks, cocking her head to observe the flowers up close. It’s the fourth bouquet you get at work. “Seems like that worked out pretty well.”

You nod, scrolling down the proposals you have for the next campaign. “I really like him,” you say absentmindedly.

“So can we use them?” Yena insists, “It’s just a couple pictures!”

“I’d rather not,” you say again, “Please just leave them where they are.”

Yena sighs in defeat. “Alright, thank you y/n! They’re beautiful, so I get it.”

Gaeun, who still holds her hurt wrist against her chest, knocks on the door. “y/n, the boss wants to see you.”

“Coming,” you smile at her, you feel somehow guilty that she’s still injured although it was you who told her to wait for someone to hold the ladder for her that day.

When you come back to your office, your red roses are gone, in their place there’s the note written by Seonghwa himself half-opened and a free sample from Eunhee’s mom’s skin care line.

You don’t even know how to react to this other than throw Eunhee’s ‘gift’ to the other side of the room. She always gets what she wants, it doesn’t matter how many times she’s told no. You don’t even linger on the fact that she read your private note, and wasn’t even decent enough to pretend like she hadn’t.

This is the first time you relish the fact that you are dating Seonghwa, and not her. No matter how much she wants him and how much she still tries to get his attention, he’s yours. The thought grosses you out right away, you’re not like this.

You keep your relationship private because it’s the right thing to do, but also deep down, you still want to spare Eunhee’s feelings.

As if she deserved it.

+++

“What’s wrong?” Seonghwa asks as you lie your head on his lap, the thing about really strong emotions is that they give you a headache, and all you want is to close your eyes and not think about work, or Eunhee, or anything other than your boyfriend’s hands on your hair.

“Just a bad day at work,” you mutter, lowering the volume on the TV. Your apartment is closer to the hospital than his, and he’s frequently here after his shifts. “How was yours?”

“It was okay,” he shrugs. It’s what he does when he’s had a hard day too, probably a complicated case with a bad ending. “What do you want for dinner?”

You sit up, stretching. “I don’t know, pizza?” you yawn. Once your eyes stop watering, they focus on the red roses across the room. They’re far less than Seonghwa sent you this morning, and you have no idea what happened to them. Maybe Eunhee tossed them in the trash, or simply ripped the petals apart and kept them somewhere.

Seonghwa didn’t seem to notice this, or if he did, he said nothing about it, probably guessing that the trip from the office to your house had been what mangled them.

“Maybe we should go out,” Seonghwa suggests, resting his chin on your shoulder. “That should clear our minds a little,”

You smile leaning against him. “You’re right.” But you don’t want to change, you're already in your house attire of a faded shirt and extremely loose pants.

“Don’t even think about it,” Seonghwa laughs, “We’re getting street food and then coming back, and you look gorgeous anyway.”

You let out a low whine, but you feel too lazy to change, and the promise of warm fish cake already has your mouth watering. Also he just called you gorgeous and there’s nothing else that will convince you to change. “Let’s go then.”

You wish the trip on the elevator was a little longer as you lean against Seonghwa and he presses his lips to your hair. But sadly, it comes to an end and you have to settle for holding his hand as you walk down the street to your favorite street food stand.

The night is warm and you don’t need to be standing so close together, yet you huddle up while chewing on your food. You are glad to have Seonghwa, and you still regret the ugly thought you had earlier. You like him, it’s not because him being with you means he’s not with Eunhee. You should have never thought about that.

“What are you doing?” you laugh as Seonghwa points his phone towards you. “Stop!”

“I’m taking a picture of you,” the sound of the camera can’t be heard above the traffic, and Seonghwa seems immediately satisfied with the result, so he doesn’t shove the phone in your face again. “There, I sent it to you.”

Your phone buzzes, and you know it’s him but you don’t want to check it right now. “If I look ugly…” you begin, but he cuts you off with a gesture of his hand.

“You could never look ugly.”

You are shunned the moment you step into the office. Even Gaeun looks awkward when she tells you there’s another impromptu meeting happening today before she runs to the coffee corner, to fill Eunhee’s pink mug with extra sweet coffee. The rest of the employees around, who normally say ‘good morning’ or ‘nice to see you’ are too quiet as you walk between their cubicles on the way to your office.

Yena is the first one to see you as you arrive at the door, and with a bitter face, she rushes to close the door in your face. But Eunhee, between what seems like a sob and hiccup stops her.

“What’s going on?” you ask, stepping inside. Although you are starting to have a pretty good idea about it. Your phone buzzed nonstop this morning, but you were running late for work and honestly, had it been a matter of life and death, they would have probably called.

“I cannot believe you have the guts to show up like this!” Yena yells, throwing both arms in the air. “And pretend like you don’t know anything, seriously, y/n? Are you that much of a jerk?”

“I literally have no idea what you’re talking about,” you let the wave of annoyance pass through, you cannot engage so quickly. You need to find your footing first. “Are you okay Eunhee?”

“What do you think?” Yena bites again, “After you stole her boyfriend, what do you think?!”

Eunhee lets out a wail once again and wipes her eyes with the tissue she’s holding in her hand. “How could you?” she sobs.

“There are rules, y/n. I can’t believe you are such a scum!” Yena is yelling again, and with the door open half of the people outside turn to stare at you.

“Hey!” you finally raise your voice too, “Don’t ever call me that again.”

“That’s what you are, how could you do this to Eunhee? You know how much she loves Seonghwa, you are the worst.”

“They weren’t even dating anymore,” you say in a low voice. There are rules, you know there are rules. “I thought–”

“You just wanted to take him for yourself because you’re jealous of me,” Eunhee gets up from her spinning chair, still holding the Kleenex box against her chest. “You are so jealous of me, it’s obvious. You always want everything I have.”

“Listen, Eunhee–”

“No, she doesn’t have to listen to you! You did this out of spite, you’re a horrible friend.”

It wasn’t only Eunhee and Yena you had kept your relationship from, the rest of your friends knew too that you were seeing someone but only San knew who it was. Because you were afraid that, once they learned about Seonghwa and Eunhee’s history, they would call you that: A horrible friend. And maybe that’s what you were.

“And where the hell is Gaeun?” Yena scowls, wrapping one arm around Eunhee. “Come on sweetie, let’s wash your face and I’ll see where that girl is with your coffee.”

“Eunhee, I didn’t mean–” you start but Yena cuts you off again by shoving the palm of her hand in front of your face.

“Save it.”

Eunhee’s shoulders shake as Yena leads her out of the room, but then she stops on her tracks, sending Yena on her way to find Gaeun.

“Eunhee, can we talk about this?”

Her reddened eyes fixate on you, but no more tears fall. “You always wanted my leftovers, y/n.” there is a smile playing at the corners of her lips. “So enjoy them, while they last.”

Seonghwa’s instagram is open on her laptop, and you see the picture he took of you last night with some lyrics about how life is brighter by your side as the caption.

You can’t bring yourself to smile, not when you feel 10 pairs of eyes on your back. Not when you’re the newly exposed villain.

Rules exist for a reason, at least that’s what you told San, but you couldn’t follow a simple one.

644 notes · View notes

emmedoesntdomath · 11 months

Note

RACETRACK MOTHERFCKING HIGGINS YOU GOSH DARN HISTORY NERD

RACERACERACERACERACERACE

also, i feel so seen rn *wipes away emotional tear*

so, ed ‘racetrack’ higgins was a newsie who helped lead the 1899/1900 newsboys’ strike against william randolph hearst and joseph pulitzer with louis ballat (who was known as kid blink), dave simons (who we don’t know the newsie name of), and (reportedly, because there aren’t that many sources with him) spot conlon (and, honestly? they could have been the same kid. not likely, but possibly). he was a brooklyn newsboy (from brighton beach specifically), and was between the ages of 16-21. he spent a considerable amount of time between the two racetracks he was near (hence the nickname). he had talked about william c. whitney, who owned a private racetrack, trained horses, and spent a lot of time at sheepshead (he said he had run horses for him, but that could be false). in just about every article he was interviewed for, it was noted that he talked A LOT about the races, even when they weren’t mentioned. like, at all (I love that for him, actually). he was charismatic, bold, and a natural-born leader. unfortunately, after the strike, he essentially disappears. there were a lot of ed higgins in the new york/jersey area, and it’s hard to track an idividual person, especially after the war started.

for more historical racetrack stuff, go check out @musicalcuriosity ‘s blog, they’ve got some great stuff over there.

now, because this isn’t actually my historical area of expertise, AND because I have actual hcs, we’re going to move on to the fun stuff.

ANTONIO ‘racetrack’ higgins is a manhattan newsie. he’s the second in command to jack kelly and more or less the ambassador to brooklyn. he’s snarky, loves gambling and spot conlon, and is probably the reason adderall was invented. he’s brilliant with numbers, but couldn’t tell you how to spell algebra to save his life. he’s petty, smokes more than anyone should, and will risk life and limb for those that he loves. he doesn’t plan to make it to 25, but will lie to anyone who asks and says he wants to be doctor for kids.

he becomes a newsie at nine, right after his mom dies, and he looks (maybe) seven, so he’s immediately taken under the wing of an older newsie. he’s dragged to the races after they finish selling, and it’s like something just clicks inside of him. he notices the trends, gets good at counting the cards, finding the tells of a good bet.

when asked, he would just shrug, a jaunty grin on his face. “it’s jus’ numbers,” he would say.

he meets a young francis sullivan (newly jack kelly) and charlie (now crutchie) when he stumbles upon their hiding spot in an alley. he recognized jack, and laughed instead of cowering when he threatened to soak him. he cheerfully informs them of a better place to hide on top of the lodging house, and from then on, they’re brothers friends.

he travels to brooklyn by himself the first time on a dare from albert (who has since become his best friend), and gets caught by hotshot within thirty minutes. he gets told to never come back with a hearty punch to the ribs for good measure.

he returns the next day.

he’s not allowed coffee (per jack), because he’s apparently “too damn jittery” as it is.

he can speak a little bit of italian, and converses with itey when they’re both at the lodging house. if he’s in public, he pretends he doesn’t know any.

when finch and albert start dating, part of him is sad, no matter how happy the rest of him is. it’s not fair, and he doesn’t know why, but it feels like a door’s shutting. he laughs, and holds spot a little tighter afterwards.

skittery taught him how to throw his first real punch, and then immediately started a fight with him “to make sure he understood the lesson”.

he’s scared of loud thunderstorms.

he hates the sound of a creaky wheel on a carriage.

he doesn’t mind girls, but he would prefer short brunettes with a temper (he’s very much got a type, and he’s not ashamed of it).

he would love harry potter, but despise JKR.

he believes in god, but doesn’t go to church.

if he had a kid, he would name them either maria or sebastian, after his mother and uncle respectively.

#i love this man #newsies #92sies #uksies #livesies #racetrack higgins #sprace #race x spot #antonio higgins #racetrack newsies #spot conlon #jack kelly #crutchie morris #crutchie newsies #francis sullivan #emme’s bad ideas

80 notes · View notes

miitarashi · 7 months

Note

I acctually love ur writing so much so if this idea sounds crap then u dont need to do it lol but if possible, could you do like a prompt 20 (the wee "I hate u" "I hate u too" and then they kiss thing) on the list? I've literally never heard of that one before but it sounds quite interesting; also if possible could it be a Tintin x female reader? Like, I got a wee story in my head; they r work partners but dont get along too well sometimes but it's because they are hiding feelings or something; then eventually when working on a case, that wee "I hate u" thing, happens in a room whilst there on a boat after a disagreement about something (possibly about protecting Chang but that's just the first thing that comes to my mind). If u have a story in ur head already then yours is probably better so u dont need to do this if u dont want, or if it sounds rubbish (I'm not a writer as u can probably tell lol) and ur NSFW things r acctually so good so if u want to add like... yk.. stuff between Tintin and the reader to this then feel free, no pressure tho. I'm not right in the head and idk if any of that made sense :)

DAMM THAT IS A LONG ASS BIG REQUEST-

I read every little word regardless and bro??? Not me in love with the idea?? Even more because you used the prompt list! (I forgot about it lol). Don't you worry my dear unknow person! I'm much worse in the head and undestand what you tried to say lol.

[Name] = reader (female)

Warning: i'll have to do split it in two parts. This one is more context,have mentions of killing and curse, the second will have a little bit of spicy. I'll put the warning there too. It's a long ass reading so, well,you've been warned but i hope you like it!

Prompt: "i hate you!" "I hate you too!" And make out.

There's people that look at each other and just click right away. You and Tintin did it too,in a very...very not that friendly way.

You,a newbie jornalist woman,ready to go to hell and heaven for the best history to write,and Tintin,a veteran at this point,fellow jornalist that would give you great advices for you to have a good start. That was everyone's first thought,but.

You were a bit childish and chaotic exactly because you didn't cared about what you had to do for your story,always complaining about Tintin's plans because most of them demanded time to act. You wanted now and against his words,you jump on the danger making him go right after you.

Yes, he's reckless,but you? 100% worse.

You two did click,but in a hateful way. Haddock aways tried to stop your arguments,never really did it because both of you didn't stop,wanting to always have the last word. It was hard to bear,for everyone,day by day looked more that you two grow the hate from each other.

Not that wrong,but not completely right too. Not saying that he didn't really hate you,believe me,he do. But he hate even more how much time he pass distracted looking at you, taking every little detail. The way your hair is always in a pony tail and showing a little bit of a tongue when you was thinking hard,the little smile you do at something that you writed on your article,your eyes, cute nose...lips...

And you? On the same board. You just love seeing him having a little time with Milu,his happy smile gets you everytime. The freckles on his cheeks,not even getting start with that cute topknot,blue eyes...his hands...

If someone see the real situation, would be laughing by how comic it all is. This,until you really messed up,almost costing someone's life beside yours. It's ok when is yours,you know how dangerous things can be but,other person...this is a really bad thing. The worst? It was Chang and Haddock as well,basically Tintin's family.

You two,along with Haddock had just saved Chang from kidnappers that focused on him because of some problems with the Wang family,but some of the mens was still following you all,Tintin said for you to stay with them (Chang and Haddock) to help if something goes wrong but you,like always, didn't listen and run alongside him. Just like he thought,some of the guys managed to go from the back near from where Chang and Haddock was,almost getting the both of them. Because of you.

Luckly,being close enough you two run right back knocking the guys down and going away as fast you all could,back for captains ship. It wasn't that hard to say how mad he was with you and he had all the rights for it.

"I asked for one thing [Name],didn't you see how our situation was before doing your reckless plan to just rush forward like a suicidal person?!" - he didn't raised his tone just yet,but the anger was pretty clear in each word.

"Yeah yeah,i'm sorry ok?! I thought i could-"

"Oh well,that's new,you thinking at once. Not even surprised that the only moment you stop to think end up almost getting two people killed!" - he cut you mid sentence.

This,you hated this on the most. If he's right,he use it against you without mercy. Your eyes rolled in annoyance,making him even more angry if that is possible.

"I said sorry,if you don't want it don't take it,i'll not lost time with you now"

You shrug it off,turning your back and walking away for your room. He look at Haddock and Chang for a moment,making sure both of them were ok before leaving to follow you,the discussion didn't ended yet. Haddock tried to stop him,even Chang,but your nonchalant "sorry" get under his skin to the point where both knew what was about to happen.

He didn't even knocked,just open the door looking right at you hearing you groan annoyed.

"Forgot how to knock?-"

"Don't start" - he close the door with a small thud and walk closer.

"Do you know what type of consequences your acts could have caused today? The world don't roll around you [Name]"

"I said sorry already,didn't i? What more do you want?? For me to ask for forgiviness on my knees in front of you??"

"You didn't mean your words,you just said what was necessary to dodge the conversation"

"Conversation my ass,you just come here to lash your stupid anger on me"

He open just a bit wide his eyes,seeming both surprised and confused. How you could be this dense? How you can not see that your careless actions affect people around you too?

"Stupid?? Do you undestand,that what you did almost cost the captain and Chang's life?!" - still didn't scream,but was close.

"They know how to handle-"

"Chang was hurted and Captain was in a ambush [Name]!"

Now,he screamed. You even flinched slightly by how sudden this was,you messed up. Badly.

"Explain then! How they could handle an ambush with one hurted and having only captain against armed people?! How?!"

His voice was loud. Frustration,anger even sadness was there, it's rare to see him like this but how could he not feel this way? That was a close,really close one,if you two wasn't near enough to run back to help them...

"They- they're not child for us to-"

"I TRUSTED YOU!" - it was you openning your eyes wide in surprise.

"I trusted that you would hear,at least this time,my request to stay and help them! Why you always like this?! Why you think so little about people's life?! Isn't captain your friend too?! You don't care about him?! What is wrong with you?!"

Tintin wasn't even lashing,it was a honest vent. He reach the limit with you,this was his try to maybe stop this hateful thing trusting one of the most important thing for him,but this is how you respond? He's right,but not about everything.

"What is wrong?...let's start by the fact that you always make me disappear from the view. I'm a jornalist too,but they never look at my work,only yours! Why i don't care about my life? Is to at least have a little spot since you take everything for yourself! That's way i throw myself forward,trying to get it before you or else everything was for nothing! Being journalist is my dream but you-" - you had to pause to breath,it was a lot of things,basically venting like he did.

"I don't want to be famous. Never wanted,just one time,i only want one time that my story get readed by people...i..." - you stop again,letting a deep breath.

"I know that what i did was wrong and i'm sorry,really sorry" - your tone growing more sincere and remorseful by what you did. But soon,the frustration come back - But dammit,i don't know what to do anymore! It's always you! Tintin that,Tintin this,Tintin Tintin Tintin!"

You finished with an angry groan under your breath. He could tell that at least this time your sorry was genuine,but something still linger on the back of his mind. You almost get them killed for a selfish reason. Not that the ginger-haired boy didn't see it happening. Both of you writed articles but only his was on the newspaper,of course it was unfair with you,even more because he readed and it was good,your details,explanations about the case,overal view of everything. He was still angry but...confused?

"Why is always you?!" - he snap back when you quickly turn to face him,walking closer.

"I'm a journalist too,i make articles too but is always,only about you!"

"It's...not my fault-"

"Yes it is!"

"Don't change the subject! You still risk other peoples life for a selfish reason,just because you envy me??"

Neither him knew what he was saying about exactly. Talking back by impulse,his words get you off guard. He was right again,wasn't he? Being this arrogant towards him since the first day was just...envy. You wanted be like him,be him. How embarrassing this sounds, even more than the other little thing on the back of your mind.

"I...what are you talking about? Me?? Envying you? Oh come on. Drop the attitude little man,you're only embarrassing yourself" - internally,you was making a face palm at how childish this comeback sounded.

"Embarrassing myself? You're the one acting like a little kid because of something foolish like envy. Grow up [Name]. You're only embarrassing yourself"

"You didn't- you know what?! Fuck you!" - you give a step closer looking at him still angry.

"Say what?!-" - he step forward too.

"That's it! I'm done with your shit! I said sorry already,even said more than i should. I'm tired of your baby face in front of me!"

"Said the one who don't even have a brain to think properly about her own decisions!"

Again, another step near. Every curse was right followed by a step until you two were close looking deep in each other's eyes. Your voices sounded angry, your eyes not and you both realized it. That feeling on the back of your head tingling by the proximity...

---> Part 2

#the adventures of tintin #tintin #tintin movie #tintin x reader #tintin 2011

26 notes · View notes

moonchildreads · 9 months

Text

small town

Chapter 21 - Far from Over

IN THIS CHAPTER: High school rumors, two really awkward talks, and Eddie makes plans for the future [6.0k]

WARNINGS: suggestive themes (very mild, just a misunderstanding with wayne), very vague mention of disordered eating (one line about chrissy not wanting to eat lunch)

A/N: in case you didn't see the announcement at the bottom of the latest extra, i'm changing update days to saturdays because things are insane at work and i really need the extra day. we're halfway done with this story so there's loads to come still! enjoy the chapter <3

masterlist - prev - next | playlist

I'm moving in 'cause I am getting closer I'm digging in I want it more than anything I've wanted

Sunday, June 1st - 1986

Wayne Munson had given up a lot for his nephew. He’d given up his dream job, his bedroom, and his privacy. He’d given up on having the freedom to go wherever he wanted whenever he wanted, dating (not that he was too interested in that these days, but still), the childless life he’d always envisioned for himself. And yet, if you asked him, Wayne would tell you truthfully that he’d never regretted it. How could he, when he loved Eddie like he was his own even when he was probably the reason he was balding? He carried a picture of an eight-year-old Eddie in his wallet from their first Christmas together, he had two mixtapes Eddie had made for him when he was barely 13 and still figuring out who he was and what music he liked, he had Eddie’s birth certificate and the papers he’d signed to become his legal guardian in a manilla folder at the top of the hallway closet along with a newspaper clipping from the time a photographer had taken a picture of a bunch of smiling kids at a pumpkin patch for an article, his boy’s grin the brightest of them all. No, there was virtually nothing in the world that could convince Wayne Munson that becoming Eddie’s caretaker had been the wrong choice, but when he walked into his trailer that Sunday at 6:30 in the morning and immediately tripped on a pair of shoes that had been abandoned at the door, he couldn’t wait until the moment Eddie was all grown up and would leave for greener pastures.

He bent down to grab the shoes, fully intending on throwing them down the hallway for Eddie to pick up later when he realized these weren’t Eddie’s shoes. They couldn’t have been, because for one, they were a size much smaller than his nephew usually wore, but also because they were black kitten heels with a strap and a silver buckle at the sides. These were women’s shoes, and he had no idea who these belonged to but judging by the fact that they were lying by his front door, the owner was still in the trailer. Turning on the lights, he looked around and saw something a parent never really wants to see: signs of their kid’s sex life. There was a dress lying on top of the couch, clearly haphazardly thrown, a white frilly sock next to his armchair and another one in front of the TV. Wayne took in a deep breath, fully intending to pretend like he’d gone temporarily blind, but when he took one step further into the living room and noticed the white cotton bra dangling from the corner of his coffee table he couldn’t stop the indignation from bubbling up his throat.

“EDWARD!” he bellowed, not caring if the mystery girl in his nephew’s bedroom was still there or not.

“Shit!” he heard Eddie yell, accompanied with a loud thump as the boy hit the floor, clearly startled out of his dreams.

Eddie had been enjoying a peaceful sleep - probably the best sleep of his life - when he heard his Uncle Wayne yell his name from the other side of the trailer. During the night he’d shifted from the position he’d been in when he initially fell asleep and was now currently being spooned from behind by Dottie, who jolted awake at the same time he did; her scared gasp on his neck sent him straight onto the carpet and scrambling to open his door. Bleary-eyed, he spilled into the hallway, heart in his throat and ready to fight an intruder or call an ambulance.

“Boy, get over here now,” Wayne gritted out, jaw tight.

Oh, fuck. He knows. Someone probably called the cops, he knows Dot broke Andy’s nose, shit, was all that was running through Eddie’s brain as he approached his Uncle meekly. He looked equal parts terrified and confused, and Wayne softened, remembering how skittish Eddie used to be whenever he accidentally raised his voice too much when he first came to live with him.

“Wayne, I can explain,” Eddie held his palms up, trying to control the situation.

“Look, Ed, you know I don’t care what you do and who you do it with as long as you ain’t bein’ stupid ‘bout it, but at least have the decency of not treating our home like a goddamn love motel,” Wayne said, voice lower but his tone still strict.

“Uh- what?”

“I don’t think that lady friend you got in there would appreciate me knowing what her undies look like-”

“Fuck,” Eddie flinched, but Wayne continued.

“-so please, get her her stuff and take her home so I can get some sleep, would you?”

“It’s not what you think, I swear.”

“Eddie, I don’t give a shit.”

“No, you don’t understand- it’s not a lady friend, it’s Dot,” the youngest Munson said, eyes wide begging his Uncle to shut up for a second.

Wayne looked at him quizzically for a few beats before directing his eyes to the hallway where someone was poking their head out of Eddie’s bedroom. And lo and behold, a sleepy-looking Dorothy was staring back at him with the most shameful look on her face he’d ever seen on anyone in his entire life. Wiping his face with his hand, the old man sighed and motioned for her to come out of her hiding place. She rushed forward, head bowed until she reached Eddie’s side and grabbed the back of his shirt for comfort, gnawing on her lower lip.

“Son,” Wayne looked back at him with a pointed look. “Can you please pick up her clothes before we have this conversation?”

Eddie nodded and leapt onto the coffee table, hiding the offending bra under the rest of her clothes before throwing them inside his bedroom for them to deal with later. Dottie waited in silence, wanting for the floor to open up and swallow her whole. She didn’t know what was worse, Wayne believing they’d hooked up or them having to explain that actually nothing had really happened and have the older man think they were liars. He looked at her and noticed the gauze covering her hand, frowning at the idea of her being hurt.

“You okay there, kid?” he asked, nodding towards her injury.

“Y-yeah. I… I kinda got into a fight last night,” she admitted shamefully.

“You got into a fight?” he asked, disbelief clear all over his face. “With Ed?”

“Actually yes, but that’s from a different fight,” Eddie said, coming to stand next to her again.

“Okay, Jesus,” Wayne muttered to himself. “Sit down.”

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Munson. I promise this is not what it looks like,” Dottie said, looking up at Wayne who stood on the other side of the coffee table with his arms crossed.

“You don’t gotta call me Mr. Munson, you’re not in trouble,” he reassured her with a wry smile. “Now, wanna tell me about these fights you been getting into?”

“We went to a party in Loch Nora,” Eddie explained. “Some bullshit about saying goodbye to senior year, whatever. The basketball meatheads were being assholes so Dot punched one of them.”

“This guy called me names,” she said, fidgeting in her seat. “Said some really ugly stuff, and I was so pissed I just kinda… hit him.”

“Pretty sure you broke bones, princess,” the youngest Munson said, pride tingeing his voice.

“Damn,” his Uncle said.

“He threw beer all over my clothes and I didn’t want my Dad to see me like that so I asked Eddie if he could bring me here to get cleaned up. Nothing inappropriate happened, I swear.”

“Kids, I don’t mind if it did-” Wayne started saying, but Eddie cut him off.

“Wayne, we’re telling you, she showered, I gave her clean clothes and then we went to sleep. That’s it, we just slept in the same bed,” he looked at his Uncle with red ears. “Nothing else happened.”

“What about that fight you two had? Everything alright?”

“Yeah,” he looked at Dottie and they both smiled at each other shyly. “Was just a misunderstanding, we sorted it out. I was being dramatic and threw her stuff around, you know me.”

“No, you weren’t,” she sighed. “I wasn’t listening, you had to get me to shut up somehow.”

“I mean, I could have picked up your clothes after we made up,” he chuckled, and she snorted, still a little embarrassed at the situation.

“Okay,” Wayne said, scratching his beard. “If you say nothing happened, then I believe you. But-” he looked at Eddie. “-if anything ever happens, and I’m not saying it will, but I still gotta tell you this… don’t be an idiot, son. Got you those condoms for a reason.”

“Jesus Christ, Wayne,” Eddie flinched.

“Actually, I threw them out when we cleaned his bedroom last month,” Dottie said, mortified but also holding in a chuckle. “They were kind of… old?”

“Old?” Eddie asked, his brows rising on his forehead.

“Expired, Ed. You do know those things have an expiration date, don’t you?” she said, and Wayne let out a loud chortle.

“Do I look like I knew that?” he replied, looking at her like she’d just blown his mind. “Why do you think that box was sealed?”

“Didn’t really need to know that, but I’m glad there won’t be any little Munsons toddling around here then. God knows we ain’t got the space,” Wayne said, putting an end to the conversation. “You two gonna hang out here today?”

“No, I should get home,” Dottie said, turning to Eddie. “Gotta tell my Dad I broke someone’s nose eventually.”

“We could always tell him you were defending my honor,” he joked, getting up. “That asshole threw me onto a table, Wayne, I think my ass is bruised. Look!”

“Ain’t nobody wanna see those pale cheeks, boy, pull those pants up!”

It was around 8:30 when Eddie pulled up to Dottie’s house, parking his van in the driveway just outside of the closed garage. James was already awake as evidenced by the open living room windows; he was a light sleeper and his body was so used to waking up early for work during the week that he hadn’t known what a lie-in looked like since he was in his early 20s. The teens had stopped at a bakery on their way to the house, planning to have breakfast together and maybe spend a little time away from the trailer so Wayne could have a well deserved sleep without being disturbed by their loud chatter. At the looming sight of her own house however, Dottie couldn’t get her legs to move to hoist herself out of the van. Eddie circled around to get to her side, bakery bag swinging from his fingers as he opened her door and waited for her to get out, always a gentleman.

“Okay, what’s wrong? Want me to go home so you can talk to your Dad alone?” he asked, tapping on her knee to get her attention.

He’d barely been able to look away from her while he drove, mesmerized by the fact that she was just calmly sitting next to him, in his clothes, browsing through his tapes, mumbling the lyrics to whatever Black Sabbath song was playing from his radio. She had swapped her borrowed boxers for a pair of Eddie's old sweatpants that barely reached his ankles anymore; they were too long for her and he'd rolled them up for her so she wouldn't trip when she walked, her cute kitten heels barely visible under the surplus of soft dark blue fabric. Dottie interlaced their fingers, stalling until she felt like she could finally face her Dad and tell him she’d gone all Rocky Balboa on some dude’s face.

“He’s gonna kill me,” she muttered; Eddie didn’t have to ask what she meant.

“No, he’s not. You defended yourself, it’s not like you went after the guy while he was distracted. It’s gonna be okay, I promise,” he reassured her, slotting between her legs to give her a one-armed hug.

“Please don’t go.”

“I won’t. I’m gonna be there for backup the entire time, okay?”

“...Okay.”

“Okay! Good. Wanna get out of the van now so I can give you a kiss before your Dad catches us out here like two idiots?”

Laughing softly, Dottie finally let herself drop from her seat and let him lock the van before he sneaked a hand around her waist and pushed her into himself, kissing her temple first, and then her lips. She sighed, content to be safe in his arms where no one was mad or upset for a little longer.

“Good morning, darling,” Eddie muttered against her mouth.

“Good morning, Ed,” Dottie replied, squeezing him once before letting him go and making her way towards her front door, wringing her hands nervously.

The house was so quiet it might as well have been empty, but the curtains moving softly in the breeze coming in from the opened windows were inviting and cozy, the air heavy with the scent of coffee and upcoming rain. Dottie took off her heels, leaving them against the entrance table in the foyer before hanging her purse from a hook next to the door and heading towards the kitchen. Eddie followed without hurry, the bag filled with warm baked goods crinkling with the movement. As they approached, they could hear soft noises coming from the coffee machine mingling with James’ voice, calm frustration noticeable in his tone.

“Dad?” Dottie called.

“I’m in the kitchen! No, Dad, I’m talking to Dot. Yes it’s still leaking! Yes, I know how to- you don’t have to tell me again, I’ve done it a million times before,” James looked up from where he was crouching under the kitchen sink and saw the kids enter, confusion painting his face as he took in his daughter’s appearance.

“I need to talk to you,” she said, not wanting to delay the moment any longer.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah, I just… I really need to talk to you. Like, right now.”

“Uh, Dad? Yeah, I’m gonna have to call you back, okay? Uh-huh. Yes, I’ll tell her you love her-”

“I love him too,” Dottie said, a small smile pulling at the corner of her lips at the thought of her Grandpa Ken on the other side of the phone.

“She says she loves you too. Okay, talk to you later. Bye-bye,” James hung up and eyed Eddie curiously before turning back to his daughter. “What happened to your dress?”

“Someone spilled beer on me. We washed it last night but I think we probably should wash it again,” she lifted her hand, the one that wasn’t injured, a plastic bag containing her clothes dangling from her wrist. “Eddie gave me some of his clothes so I could take a shower.”

“I can see that. You stayed over at Eddie’s?” James crossed his arms, face carefully schooled into a stoic mask.

“I’m sorry I lied. I was upset and I didn’t want you to feel like you had to come pick me up,” Dottie pulled at the hem of her Garfield shirt.

“Did you get into a fight with Jeff?”

“Not exactly, no.”

“Okay. What does that mean?”

“I got into a fight, just not with Jeff,” she moved her other hand from where she was hiding it behind her back letting her Dad see the gauze.

“Dorothy, what did you do?”

“I… I punched a guy in the face at the party?” she grimaced.

“Dorothy.”

“He deserved it,” Eddie said, pulling James’ attention to himself. “That guy, he’s- well, he’s a bully, sir. Him and his friends were shoving us, and he was saying all these nasty things-”

“Eddie, I appreciate you trying to defend my daughter right now but getting into a fight and hitting someone isn’t how you deal with things.”

“I know that, but that asshole- sorry, that guy isn’t someone you can reason with. He’s a jock, he’s been bullying us for years. He had it coming,” Eddie explained. “He’s a racist, sexist piece of trash that thinks he can get away with everything he does because he’s popular and has money.”

“I get that, trust me, I do but-”

“He called me a whore,” Dottie said, silencing them both. “He has it out for me because I told him to stop bullying my friends or else I’d tell our Spanish teacher he cheated on a test, so he said I was a slut in front of everyone to make me look bad. He would have hit me and Nancy if one of his friends didn’t tell him to back off.”

“He threatened to hit you?” James’ eyebrows rose.

“He raised his hand at us. His friends pulled him away before he could do it.”

“He also emptied an entire beer can on her head,” Eddie added, jaw tight.

“And he pulled Eddie’s hair and pushed him into a table,” she ended the story, eyes glued to the floor.

“Well, in that case… fuck that guy,” James scoffed. “Who is this kid?”

“His name’s Andy, he’s on the basketball team,” Dottie said, but Eddie was way ahead of her.

“He’s Carson Humphrey’s son.”

“Of course he’s Carson’s boy,” James turned to Eddie. “I see the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”

“You know his Dad?” his daughter asked, curious about this turn of events.

“Everyone knew Carson back then. Popular, had money, shoved everyone into a locker if we looked at his girl wrong. Can’t believe Adelaine married that asshole.”

“He’s still a piece of shit,” Eddie said. “He’s one of the suits at the plant my Uncle works at. Wayne hates him, says he’s always treating everyone like trash.”

“That really does not surprise me.”

There was a moment of silence that passed between all three of them before James moved to get a mug from one of the cabinets. He filled it with coffee, stirring one spoonful of sugar into the dark liquid, and turned to the teens who were still standing on the other side of the island, awaiting judgment to pass upon them.

“You two had breakfast?” he asked, taking a sip.

“No, we left as soon as we could. Wayne worked last night and we didn’t want to disturb him,” Dottie said, wondering why she wasn’t grounded yet. “Am I… Are you mad at me?”

“Come here,” James said, opening his arm so she could tuck herself into his side. “Am I happy you got into a fight? No, I’m not. But you stood up for yourself and your friends, and I am proud of you for that.”

“You are?”

“Of course I am, honey. I’m proud you didn’t take his shit lying down,” he sighed. “Just… don’t lie to me again, okay? You could have told me hey Dad, I’m gonna stay over at Eddie’s, I’m upset and I don’t want you to pick me up and I would have respected that. You know I would have. I know you’re old enough to do whatever you want and I can’t stop you from doing that, but what if something had happened, huh? What if there was an emergency and I couldn’t find you? It’s just you and me, Dot, you gotta help me out here a little bit.”

“I’m sorry. I promise you I was safe, we stayed at Eddie’s all night. Mom’s dress was gross and I was so upset, I just… I don’t know. I didn’t want you to see me like that,” she mumbled.

“It’s okay, honey. Nothing a good wash can’t fix,” James muttered into her hair. “Ed?”

“Y-yes, sir?” he looked awkward as hell, avoiding staring at them while they shared a tender father-daughter moment.

“You want some coffee?” the older man asked, but Eddie understood what he really meant to say. Thank you for being there for my daughter when she needed you.

“I’d love coffee, thanks. We, uh- We got donuts on our way over if you want some.” Thank you for letting me be there for your daughter; here’s a peace offering.

“Which kind?”

“A dozen. Half glazed, half with jelly,” he smiled.

“Atta boy,” James grinned at him, and the tension in the kitchen dissolved to nothing.

After breakfast, Eddie helped James fix the leaky sink in the kitchen while Dottie put a new load in the washing machine, her Mom’s baby blue shift dress finally on its way to normalcy. From the laundry room next to the kitchen she could hear what were possibly the two most important men in her life talking like they were family, and in a way, she supposed they were. Whether Eddie and her stayed together forever or not following recent developments, she knew he would always occupy a big space in her life, and she was grateful that her Dad was so accepting of him. Once Eddie had left, she’d most likely have to give James a full rundown of what had happened at the party and how she’d ended up at his trailer instead of going to Jeff’s house, but she wasn’t afraid of him getting mad at her anymore.

Officially not in trouble, the teens retreated to her bedroom to hang out while James finished up his morning routine. He came out of the bathroom after a shower, dressed up in his cozy Sunday clothes fully intending on going downstairs and lounge around until lunchtime when he walked past Dottie’s room, the silence coming from behind her almost closed white door startling him. He’d heard them talking animatedly all morning, had Eddie left already while he was in the shower? Peeking inside, he saw the two teens asleep on top of the comforter, Eddie spread out like a starfish and Dottie curled into a ball next to him, her pillow on the verge of falling to the floor. James watched his daughter turn in her sleep towards her friend, the soft cushion finally hitting the rug with a barely audible thud, her head perching on Eddie’s arm and her hand resting on his chest. He would have laughed at how her sleep-addled body had betrayed her if he hadn’t seen Eddie shift to accommodate her new position better, turning onto his side to drape an arm around her middle and pulling her to him, his leg tangling with hers. He snored once as he settled and they both carried on sleeping like nothing had changed, but James knew without anyone having to tell him, that everything was different.

With the heavy heart of a Dad watching his little girl slip away from his fingers in order to grow up into the wonderful woman he knew she’d become one day, he closed her door again and headed downstairs, trusting that the boy who held her like she was precious cargo when he was unconscious would do exactly the same while they were awake.

Monday, June 2nd - 1986

“So is it true? Did you really break Andy’s nose?”

“For fuck’s sake, Fred, I think people in Indianapolis couldn’t hear you. Wanna ask a little louder?”

By lunchtime, Dottie was already tired of people coming up to her and asking about Andy while the boys in Hellfire were having a lot of fun scaring nosy students away. Nobody was denying the general story - how could they when half of their senior class had seen the fight go down - but as the rumor spread like wildfire, the specifics of it all were becoming more and more convoluted. Some said she had punched him because Andy had tried to slip a roofie into her drink, others said that she hit him during a lover’s quarrel, and her personal favorite was that she’d actually been upset over him getting a better grade on a Spanish test than she did and went psycho on him. Her friends were stuck to her like velcro, arguing that they were worried that someone in the basketball team would try to retaliate but it quickly became evident that they were keeping their distance when during her AP Spanish class on third period, Andy sat as far away from her as possible, a butterfly bandage decorating the bridge of his nose.

Nancy told her one class later during AP Research that Andy’s nose hadn’t actually been broken, but that he was probably still going to be sporting the white bandage and a purple eye during his prom pictures. The damage was superficial, which is why the basketball team was so willing to pretend like it hadn’t happened, particularly after their teammate had been so ready to punch two girls much smaller than him in front of their entire year over what seemed to be a mere misunderstanding. Much to their chagrin, their need to protect one of their friend’s girlfriends was very unneeded, as evidenced by the fact that Chrissy greeted both Dottie and Eddie with hugs and big smiles in the hallway when they crossed paths. No one wanted to fight the freaks on Chrissy’s behalf if she wasn’t going to play her role as the damsel in distress.

“Get lost, Benson, we’re trying to have lunch in peace,” Gareth told him, shooing him away with his hand like Fred was a bothersome fly.

“Good luck I wasn’t talking to you then, Coleman,” Fred said, turning again towards Dottie. “Come on, Dot, aren’t we friends? Just tell me what happened, Nancy won’t say shit.”

“You’ve never called me Dot in like the three months I’ve known you,” she said, pointing at him with her lettuce-filled fork.

“No time like today to start, huh? So why did you do it? Did he really try to feel you up?”

“That’s a new one, hadn’t heard it yet,” Dottie looked at Jeff across the table from her and he snorted. “I hit him because he was being rude, kinda like you are being right now.”

“You’re absolutely no fun, did you know that?”

“I’ve been told. Now scram before I punch you too,” she smiled at him sweetly.

“You’re spending too much time with the weirdos. Drop by the newsroom before you leave, got your final stack,” Fred said, finally relenting and going back to his table.

“Okay, I know you’re upset about it but you gotta admit that punching a jock on the nose is a really cool story,” Dustin laughed. “Best part is that he can’t even do anything about it because he’s too embarrassed everyone saw him getting hit by a girl half his size.”

“Yeah, that’s… not the pick-me-up you think it is, Dus,” Dottie sighed. “I’m just tired everyone keeps trying to talk to me about it.”

“Look, you’re only gonna have to deal with it for two more weeks and then you’re out of here forever,” Mike said. “No one will care anymore after the holidays start.”

“Speaking of being free from this hellhole,” Donny said, tapping the table excitedly. “Are we still on about the summer jobs thing?”

“Absolutely, yes,” she nodded. “I wanna save up as much as I can before Michigan.”

“You two getting summer jobs?” Jeff asked, curiously.

“She’s gonna cover for my sister while she’s on her pregnancy leave,” Donny explained.

“Aw, man, you two are gonna work together?” Gareth complained. “My Mom got me a job at the fucking supermarket, one of her aerobics class friends is a manager or some shit like that.”

“You gonna be a cashier?” Jeff said, laughing when Gareth nodded. “You can barely do basic Math, who’s the fuck is trusting you with money?”

“Shut the fuck up,” he threw his straw at his friend.

“What are you gonna do, Jeff?” Mike asked.

“Dunno yet, might walk some dogs again to get some cash before college.”

“Aren’t you allergic to fur?” Dustin frowned.

“Cats.”

“Ah.”

“Does anyone know what Eddie’s gonna do?” Donny wondered.

“What do you mean what’s he gonna do? He already has a gig,” Gareth said, mouth full of mushy carrots.

“You really think he’s gonna keep selling weed after graduation?” Jeff said. “I bet he’s gonna ask Dave for a job or something.”

“Who’s Dave?” Dottie asked.

“He owns The Hideout. He’s known Eddie for years, and he’s always saying he needs a bartender. I think Ed’d be good at it.”

“Who knows. Doesn’t seem like he’s too interested in a job anyways,” Gareth shrugged, but Dottie knew that wasn’t true.

As the conversation kept going and Dustin talked about his summer camp and being reunited with his girlfriend, Dottie stared at Eddie’s empty chair at the head of their table and wondered how they were going to navigate the changes in their relationship if they were both about to have completely different schedules.

“I’m telling you, Chris, it was something straight out of a fucking movie.”

“It sounds like it!”

Eddie and Chrissy were hanging out in the woods, enjoying what was probably going to be their last time together at their spot. Hellfire was officially on hiatus and cheer practice had ended last week, so there were no more reasons for them to stay after school on Friday evenings, and thus no more secret smoking sessions would ensue. Still, when Eddie opened his locker to find Chrissy’s note asking if he wanted to have lunch with her at their table, he took the opportunity to update her future Maid of Honor-Best Woman-Whatever That Shit Was Called on his developing love life. Yes, he wasn’t actually supposed to be telling anyone what had transpired after they’d left the party, but he figured that letting Chrissy know wouldn’t be too bad considering how much help she’d been providing to him all along.

“I’m really proud of you, Eddie,” she said, pushing a cherry tomato around her little Tupperware container. He’d noticed she wasn’t really eating but didn’t say anything about it; maybe she didn’t like the salad her Mom had packed for her. “You put yourself out there even if it was scary, you set goals and worked hard to achieve them, and now you’re about to graduate while dating the girl of your dreams. You must feel so relieved everything turned out great.”

“Actually, it feels weird,” he admitted. “Like, all this time I was psyching myself for it, y’know? And I thought it was gonna be this huge thing once it happened, and it was! But… I feel, I don’t know, calm? Like for once in my life I’m not just waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

“That’s great. I’m happy she makes you happy. I’m happy you’re both happy!” she smiled, reaching across the table to grab his hand. “You’re really cute together, and you deserve to feel loved.”

“Yeah,” he laughed, a little out of breath. Dottie loved him. Dottie loved him. That was gonna take some time to get used to. “Anyway, enough about me being a fucking softie. What’s going on with you? What happened after we left?”

“Nothing much,” Chrissy shrugged. “People kinda went back to their own stuff, it was pretty normal. Jason and I got into a fight on Sunday though.”

“I’m sorry. Did we-”

“No, no, it’s okay. He was being an idiot,” she rolled her eyes. “Everything is fine now. He was… well, he asked me if there was anything going on between us.”

“What? Us as in like, you and me?”

“I know, right? So weird. Apparently Andy told him you were, like… being a perv about me at the party?”

“Fuckin’ Andy, man.”

“You can say that again. But really, it’s fine now. He calmed down after I told him I had it on good authority that you liked Dottie.”

“You told Jason Carver I had a crush on Dot?”

“No, I told Jason Nancy told me you had a crush on Dot,” she giggled. “He didn’t ask anything else after that. Every time I bring up girly gossip in front of him he mentally checks out.”

“Yeah, no, that seems reasonable. No sane man likes girly gossip.”

“You love girly gossip.”

“Who said I was sane, sweetheart?” Eddie grinned.

“Ugh, I’m gonna miss this! I’m gonna miss you!” Chrissy groaned. “My Mom’s gonna be looking at me like a hawk all summer.”

“Lie to her and come hang out with us. We’re probably gonna be at the lake most of the time, it’s hot as hell and none of us has a pool,” he said, munching on his last bit of sandwich.

“I’d love to go but I don’t wanna say yes and then flake out on you. She’s… overbearing when she wants to be. And I need to start training for the preseason so she’s gonna be on my ass all the time. She already ordered my new uniform, she’s insane,” she let her head fall onto her arms.

“I bet Dot can help you out with that. She won’t suspect too much if you’re going out with another girl, right?”

“Maybe,” Chrissy said, not putting too much faith into the idea. “I need to figure something out though because I think I might freak out if I can’t smoke anymore.”

“Actually, I kinda wanted to talk to you about that,” Eddie scratched his neck awkwardly. “I’m not gonna sell anymore after graduation.”

“Oh? Why not?”

“I don’t want Callahan to bust me again now that I’m 20. Hopper didn’t give two shits about it but that asshole is gonna tell Chief Powell, and I think he hates me,” he crossed his arms over his chest. “But I can give you the number of this guy I know, I’m gonna buy from him too probably.”

“Okay, that sounds good. Can we, like, buy together though? At least the first time. Until I know he’s not, y’know, a murderer or something,” she laughed nervously.

“Yeah, we can go together,” he smiled. “Can’t go until a week after graduation though. Gotta take a pee test and I don’t wanna risk it.”

“What’s wrong? Are you sick?”

“No, I… I’m applying for a job.”

“Are you serious?” Chrissy beamed at him.

“Yeah! But I don’t wanna jinx it, so don’t ask me anything about it until it’s a done deal,” he said, lifting a finger at her in warning.

“Okay, okay, I won’t. But that’s so exciting, Eddie, oh my god!” she got up from her seat and went to hug him. “Look at you, being all grown up and stuff! Who are you and what did you do to my Eddie?”

“I’m still here, haven’t gone anywhere,” he smiled, leaning into the hug. “Just decided to stop dicking around for once.”

It occurred to Eddie, once he was sitting in his English Lit class after lunch, that he owed much of his recent maturity to the girl sitting next to him. Dottie was playing with the rings on his fingers as they relaxed at the back of the classroom, a boring movie playing during their last period to fill up time while their teacher tried to finish grading all the finals she had in front of her. He pulled her hand up to his mouth silently, not wanting to attract any attention towards them, but no one cared. Half of the class was asleep anyway. He kissed her injured knuckles over the colorful band aids he’d gotten for her, and she smiled at him, eyes soft and heart soaring.

“Thank you,” he muttered; she looked at him inquisitively but he didn’t say more.

When his lips pressed to the inside of her wrist, she understood what he had meant: thank you for believing in me. Thank you for loving me. Thank you for being here. And when they were finally alone, hiding away in what was now known as their clearing at the edge of the lake, he told her he believed he couldn’t have gotten to where he was without her and she replied that all she’d done was to simply return what he’d given to her since the day they’d met, which was kindness, understanding, and above all, a whole lot of love.

taglist (comment below or send me an ask if you want to be added!): @munsonology @kurdtbean @every1lovesanunderdog @eg-dr3amer3

34 notes · View notes