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philtstone · 2 years

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Sam & Bucky, “grabbing onto their arm”

soooo ... i watched "why didnt they ask evans?" remembered that i loved agatha christie novels and immediately landed here. obviously wave the historical accuracy away bc i did just enough research for Flavour but not much for anything else. premise: everything remains the same as canon except bucky didnt fall off the train & a whole lot of characters were born much earlier in the 1900s. this isn't technically finished yet but it's enough to justify answering the prompt; i want to try to get the latter half of this "part" done & perhaps if the fates align even write a part 2 to actually complete the story but for now have this!! if you'd like to see more pls let me know <3 thanks for the prompt zainab love u

Sam figures this is just typical. So he’d decided to go to New York – get that loan. Hell, they need that loan. Boy, don’t do it, Sarah had said, but Sam figured it was his right just as anyone else’s, and Stark talked all that talk about his new GI grant. They won’t have you, Sarah said, and like an idiot Sam went anyway. He went, and he sat himself down in that nice fancy apartment building lobby across the room from the saddest lookin’ white fella he’d seen in a while, which was saying a hell of a lot. He got up, walked over, he spoke to the nice receptionist, he wrote his name down.

Of course, he was right – they would’ve taken him. Had the paperwork done up and everything. Stark may have been a bit crazy, hell if Sam knew, but he had money to throw at things.

Only then, the very next day, Howard Stark died.

HEADLINE EXCLUSIVE: HOWARD STARK FOUND DEAD IN ALLEY BEHIND MANHATTAN APARTMENT

The New York Times, Monday, October 12th, 1947

Nation mourns death of eccentric millionaire inventor and war hero Howard Stark, found dead of a gunshot wound this morning in the alleyway behind his Manhattan home. With him, also dead, was socialite fiance Maria Caruso. Police have yet to identify the nature of the death but have not ruled out suicide. However, sources confirm that the firearm found at the scene was not Stark’s, but rather belonged to Stark’s comrade and fellow veteran Sgt. James Buchanan Barnes.

The thing about Peggy is that she understands him, which is just a bitch and a half sometimes.

“You threw the weapon out.”

She’s repeating this, flatly, but with enough inflection that Bucky comprehends the are you perhaps a massive idiot implied therein. Peg would say it like that too — use perhaps and massive and arch her eyebrows.

Bucky presses his hands harder where they’re clutched at his temples and grimaces. “Look, I wasn’t thinking clearly, alright?”

“James.”

James, full name, not Jim like when she’s being chummy and of course Agent Margaret Carter of His Majesty’s Royal Service never quite got around to following Steve’s lead on the Bucky front. Bucky grimaces harder. Peggy will stare and be sardonic and, God help him suspicious until he explains.

“I dunno what you want me to say, Peg – it was there in the drawer and I couldn’t bear lookin’ at it anymore.”

Her resultant expression is just a touch too understanding for his taste.

“How the hell would I know that tossing a Colt into the Hudson in the middle of the night would get Howard killed?” Bucky adds, to move past it.

Minutely as possible Peggy flinches. Balls of steel, he’s always said. The other guys thought the same, but none of them had the guts to say it aloud. Speaking of other guys –

“Dugan’s coming over.”

“Like hell he is,” Bucky says.

Peggy takes an elegant drag of her cigarette. She’s sitting at the dull brown edge of his made-up bed and being careful enough that the ashes don’t spill. What difference that’ll make Bucky’s not sure. His apartment’s the definition of sad. Becca nearly cried last week when she visited, but then instead of crying yelled at him ‘til he relented and got a pillow.

“Evidently,” says Peggy, still on the topic of Dum-Dum, “he has not considered the double agent angle. His wife made you casserole.”

“Mm,” says Bucky, grim. He walks over to his meager kitchen, pulls a dusty bottle out from the cabinet and unscrews it. “Gonna get him killed one of these days.”

“Given my ongoing conviction that you are not in fact a spy –”

“Jury’s out on you though,” Bucky says, raising the bottle at her.

“-- you do realize that you are a prime suspect in the murder of our close personal friend.” She blows out. “If we can’t rely on our comrades, we’re rather fucked.”

“I am, you mean.”

Her mouth turns mulish and she looks away to the window then back. Maybe she did mean we, lumping the two of them under the tarp of some morbid umbrella. Steve’s dead and gone and sacrificed nobly, isn’t he.

“You didn’t kill Howard and he didn’t damn well kill himself,” says Peggy, steely. “I’d like to know which bastard did.”

Bucky puts his drink down. Sighs. Crosses his arms.

“So?”

“I’ll poke around at SSR –”

“You really do think it’s a spy –”

“Stay here. Word is they don’t want this in the press just yet, which, well. Neither of us were born yesterday.”

“You callin’ me old, Agent Carter?” he asks, just on the right edge of bratty.

Peggy steamrolls forward, “Don’t do anything untoward, please.”

“You’re the one sitting on the bed of an unmarried man,” Bucky says. He walks over to the window and tugs it open, letting cigarette smoke out and giving him an eye to the dank alley below. It’s spring and the sunlight’s pale and his room’s not too high up; were anyone to jump, they’d barely sprain an ankle. And Howard’s fucking dead. Bucky turns back and flicks a thumb under his chin. “C’mon,” he says, “gimme the rest of your cigarette. I’m the one wanted for murder.”

“Christ,” Peggy mutters, getting to her feet.

She hands the cigarette over anyway, and Bucky spends the minute it takes her to leave wiping off the lipstick stains. It’s a lost cause, more or less.

He has to put it out, against the peeling windowsill.

Sam’s rung the service bell a third time when the receptionist finally appears.

“Concierge’s assistant,” she corrects in a trill voice. Her curls are pinned tightly and her skirt waist more so. The red of her lipstick clashes garishly with her hair. Her nametag reads Dolores. “Can I help you?”

“Um, yeah,” says Sam, “Ma’am.” He grips his bag. “I'm here to inquire about my loan.”

The lobby he’s in is just as fancy as it was the first time around, with tall ceilings and crystal chandeliers and fine imported rugs on the floors. It was pretty empty last time too, quiet and genteel the way rich white people pretend to be. Only last time Sam was kept company not just by Miss Dollie’s red lipstick but the scowling, oblivious man she kept batting her lashes at; this time the place is empty. Police have roped off the elevator and even the white folks’ plush seating area is out of bounds. Dollie looks pastier than usual.

“Oh,” says Dolores, “oh. From –”

“Yesterday,” Sam says, slow and expectant.

“You’d better go home,” says Dolores.

“They took my name down,” says Sam, a second time. “I wrote it on paper and everything.”

Dolores has busied herself with some stationary thing under the desk and distractedly says, “I just don’t think dead people can give loans. It’s a shame, don’t you think? He was a real dreamboat.”

“Ma’am – Ms. Dolores –” She stops looking wistful about Stark’s erstwhile good looks and refocuses, “Now c’mon. I paid train money for this. My sister’s got two kids – our family’s business is on the line. I’d like to talk to someone.”

“I’d guess you oughta get a lawyer,” Dolores says mournfully.

“Dollie,” Sam starts, “can I call you Dollie?” She perks up, which is inconvenient, as Sam remembers that he knows better than to flirt with a white woman. “Don’t they have some kind of insurance in place?” he asks. “His family – estate, somethin’? I mean, Howard Stark, a guy like that wouldn’t leave millions lyin’ around.”

Not that Sam knows much about men like Howard Stark. But if the police won’t bother listening to him, he’s just gotta run with his own theories.

“Jeez,” says Dollie, sniffing. “I couldn’t tell you. The whole back door’s swarming with cops. No one’s even gone through the rooms yet.” And then she says, “Oh – oh!” And bursts into tears.

Sam hovers awkwardly on the other side of the reception desk and offers her his ratty handkerchief until she has collected herself enough to wave him off with one hand and stumble away to the bathroom. Her low heels thump unevenly on the carpeted floor as she goes. He straightens the tie of his dress uniform and looks around again. He can hear voices, but far past the desk, closer to the alley door and the mail room. Hell, he’d bet even the cleaning staff have been either sent home or brought in for questioning.

“Ain’t this just our luck,” Sam mutters.

There’s no one around. The elevator is right there. Sam takes a deep breath and heads upstairs.

Upstairs is fancier than downstairs in the sense that Sam’s been in lobbies before but has never been in the type of suite that takes up a whole floor. The tall gilded windows look out on nearly all of Manhattan. Someone – he guesses the same police who told him to stop wasting their time, they had better things to be dealing with – has taped off the entrance to each room, but other than that, Dollie was right: it’s more or less untouched.

Which makes sense, ‘cause there’s a whole lot to touch. Sam can barely see the bedroom (with its big four-poster bed) or the bathroom (with its marble counter) because there is stuff everywhere. There’s a painter’s easel with a feminine aura to it in the corner and paints laid out, slowly drying, and yesterday morning’s newspaper. A large cylindrical contraption moves back and forth beside the desk, over the carpet in one corner, like someone forgot it there; it emits a loud suctioning noise (Sam can see the carpet hole forming) while steaming a smoking jacket to misshapenness at the same time. The coffee machine has three levels, one each for cream, milk, and sugar; the coffee smells burned. These are not the weird things. The weird things are the three stacks of metal drawers emitting a strange humming noise, and the industrial sized ice box, and the half-deconstructed bicycle sitting on top of the desk with what looks like a freakier version of a machine gun strapped to the handlebars. It has wires and hydraulics and everything comin’ out of its ends.

“Just check the desk and leave, Sam,” Sam mutters to himself, pushing down his nerves. You’re the fool who got yourself into this, says Sarah’s voice in his head.

She ain’t wrong.

The glossy desk is smaller than Sam expected. He checks it; two drawers with locks on them, and the third opens to a couple loose lead pencils rolling around. He supposes an important man like Howard Stark wouldn’t keep his papers sitting just anywhere. Under the desk, maybe?

Nothing. Not even a damn cardboard box.

He straightens, hums at the locked doors. In front of him a lopsided chalkboard reads CADILLAC IN OUTER SPACE???? ASK JARVIS in giant block letters.

“Going around wastin’ my time …” Sam mutters, picking his bag up and rubbing behind his neck. “Maybe we do need a lawyer.”

Then he narrows his eyes.

There.

Right there.

Someone has picked the lock.

The first drawer sits just off its latch and the second has scuff marks under where the key goes in. “Well, shit,” he mutters. He gets back down on his knees. There is definitely a splinter, right down the middle of the second lock, like someone wrenched at it when a gentle picking didn’t do the job. “Now why the hell would he have to do that if he’s got a key?”

Sam’s habit of asking himself rhetorical questions is very suddenly put on the spot when, instead of the silence he usually anticipates, he is answered by a faint creak from the foyer beyond the study door. Sam freezes. He doesn’t think his dress uniform is enough to stop him getting arrested if anyone were to find him here now. Then again, with these locks and the general strangeness of the situation, arrest could be the safer option. Scooping up his bag, Sam slowly rises to his feet and pads softly around the desk, just barely missing the steam-cylinder and its jacket (it lets out a sad whistle), and slips a small pocket knife out from the inside of his left sock. He stalls at the doorframe, trying to breathe as quietly as he can. There’s definitely someone on the other side.

Inhaling sharply, he pounces.

“Oomph!”

“Shit!”

On instinct Sam grabs the arm that swings at him. He brings his knee up and his elbow down and there is a moment where they grapple, with strong emphasis on the moment part – very suddenly Sam finds his arm knocked out of the way and himself grabbed by beneath his chin, and slammed into the foyer wall like his cousin Deedee’s flour sack doll, so hard that all the breathe leaves his lungs in one fell swoop. His hat gets knocked off of his head with the force of it and falls to the floor.

Sam blinks. There is a scruffy, pale face in front of him, which features two big blue eyes that are blinking right back, looking equally startled.

They stay frozen like that for the space of two heartbeats. Sam’s fingers tighten where they’re fisted at the guy’s collar, refusing to yield. He’s pretty sure his knife has skidded under the shoe rack.

He really liked that knife, dammit.

“Who the hell are you?” asks the man suddenly, both loud and Brooklyn about it.

“Funny,” wheezes Sam, “I could ask you the same thing.”

He releases Sam, which is nice of him. Stumbling, he moves a few steps back, and looks quite suddenly more bewildered than before. He’s not much taller than Sam is, with dark floppy hair that hangs over one eyebrow and a frame like a heavyweight boxer. Despite his startling strength – Sam aint exactly the smallest of men – there’s an exhaustion that sits fragile under his eyes and a tense, well-concealed tremble in one arm. There’s something very familiar about his face. His slacks have scuffs at the knees and he’s wearing a lumpy-looking knit sweater that does little to mask what Sam’s dress greens are plainly revealing to him – that whoever he’s just run headlong into, trespassing in a dead guy’s bedroom, is a fellow soldier.

Or was, anyway. No more war to fight and die in. Sam tugs at the hem of his jacket. It’ll be a pain in the ass to steam again, and Sarah will raise hell about it ‘cause he’ll beg to borrow her steamer. They don’t get all that nice starching stuff at the dive motels Sam can afford.

“No one’s supposed to be up here,” insists the man, still looking baffled.

Sam straightens and rubs at his jaw, which feels like it just got caught in an industrial press.

“Sorry to disappoint,” says Sam, “but I am. Why are you here?”

“I asked first,” says the man, so unselfconsciously mulish that Sam can only stare.

“I didn’t just slam me into a wall.”

“You came at me with a knife!” protests the guy, which Sam thinks is a little unfair; that knife was kind of useless. He narrows his eyes. He oughta pick his hat up from the floor, but he figures it’d be kind of stupid to let his guard down. They stand there, eye to eye, at impasse. After the weird-looking carpet cleaner has whistled three times the man says,

“You don’t look like a German spy,” muttered, like he’s really thinkin’ about it.

“Seriously?” splutters Sam. He says this so forcefully that the other guy has the nerve to look a little offended. But now, come on – come on, Sam thinks. It’s a fair question. Only Sam’s been having a really difficult forty-eight hours, so he doesn’t appreciate it.

He decides to consider the situation a bit more fairly; how does he know this crumb hasn’t been having a tough time, too?

It’s here that something big and important feeling clicks in Sam’s head. He’s seen that scowl before – just yesterday, ignoring poor Miss Dollie.

And just this morning, in the papers plastered all over his motel lobby.

“Oh,” says Sam, “you gotta be kidding me.”

But alas, there’s no kidding to be had.

“From the paper – they think you killed him, man!”

Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes pales three shades under what little tan he has, but otherwise doesn’t react.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he says instead, a divot deepening between his thick eyebrows. “It isn’t safe.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” says Sam. “Some guy just grabbed me by the throat.”

Barnes does not seem to find this amusing. Instead, he looks a funny cross between ornery and miserable, and sets his jaw to considerable mulish effect. Sam hums to himself. Fact of the matter is, Barnes has had plenty of opportunity to kill Sam so far and hasn’t taken advantage of it. If he really was guilty – Sam thinks, briefly considering the warped mind of a cold-blooded killer, a few inches removed from the necessities of soldierhood – wouldn’t he want to get rid of any witnesses or evidence?

And yet here Sam is, very much not dead.

“Well … you don’t look like a murderer,” he says aloud, slowly, but keeps his arms crossed. Somehow despite his sardonic tone and clear mockery (at least, that’s what Sam hopes is coming across), there is something profoundly relieved about the expression that flickers across Barnes’s face.

Then it is back to its customary scowl.

“You gotta leave,” he repeats firmly, pacing once, back and then forth. Sam watches him carefully; there’s that tremble again, along with a steady, even tone and deliberate eye to the skyline behind them. More than just Barnes’s face is familiar.

But Sam is still annoyed.

“Through the window?”

“There’s – a stairwell.”

“Through the stairwell definitely crawling with cops?”

“For the love of God –”

“I am just listing my options, here.”

“Just leave, go away, pretend you never saw me,” Barnes says, waving two hands in front of Sam’s face like he’s batting the whole morning away, and looking harassed. “Okay? Jesus, it ain’t that hard.”

“Pretend I never saw you, creepin’ around the apartment of the fella you’re supposed to have killed,” Sam says. “Yeah, no, I’m gonna tell somebody.”

“Seriously?!” It’s Barnes’s turn to sound offensively incredulous.

“Or,” Sam says, “you could tell me what’s goin’ on.”

There’s a long pause. Sam hardly thinks his voice is friendly – if anything, he’s annoyed as hell – but Barnes opens his mouth, two beats, a sudden vulnerability stuck to his chin. Too vulnerable for whatever Sam’s asking. In that split second it sucks the breath outta the room.

Sam doesn’t have any idea what it is that’s just made Barnes’s head whip around until a bullet explodes into the lobby mirror above their heads.

“Fuck!”

Two rough hands shove him back into the study and Sam nearly knocks over the artillery bicycle; he looks up in time to see Barnes throwing his lanky frame against the opposing wall and holding his arms up over his head, yelling loudly in annoyance when another three bullets spray into the beautiful engraved wood above their heads and nearly bring down the chandelier. The coffee maker starts whistling out of control. Sam groans.

“Gimme your gun!” demands Barnes, which is beyond unhelpful.

“I don’t have a gun,” says Sam, waving one hand in the air to demonstrate this. “Where’s your gun?”

“I threw it in the fucking Hudson!” says Barnes. He looks like a guy who’s had a very long forty-eight hours; Sam can relate. “I’ve been framed for murder, remember?”

“We actually never established that that’s the truth,” Sam feels the need to point out, a second before another bullet tears through the poor over-steamed suit jacket.

Bang.

“Common sense!” exclaims Barnes.

Bang.

“Somethin’ you don’t seem to have much of!” yells Sam.

Bang.

“THERE IS A MAN SHOOTING AT US.”

Bang.

“HOW IS THAT MY FAULT?!”

Jiminy Christmas, says Sarah’s voice in Sam’s head. His sister is not gonna be happy about this.

They scramble for the front door as another two bullets sound off. Sam just barely has the time to reach down and grab his hat, and can just make out a slight, shadowed figure ducking back behind the wardrobe in the bedroom before they burst into the elevator lobby – right in time for the elevator door to ding open, and the tomato-red of the huffing police commissioner’s face to peek through.

Barnes has grabbed him by the arm again and pushed him into the stairwell going back downstairs before Sam has any time to react.

And, maybe importantly, before any of the many police officers squeezing themselves out into the hallway can see him.

Huh, he thinks, a second before the other man’s bulky shoulders burst through the door in turn, knock haphazardly into Sam, and half tumble them down the staircase with a garbled, “Come on, move!” tacked right onto the end.

“Can’t run anywhere with you fallin’ on top of me!” Sam says.

“Jesus, Mary and Joseph!”

And for all that Sam was raised Southern Baptist, he has to agree.

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deadgrantaires · 2 years

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i think im getting. more frustrated bc it still feels like theres a lot of things i have to do (like get back to long term dis@bility and stuff) but like. idk that any of that shit is super duper pressing? like... they already dropped the ball... i shouldve gotten paid almost 2 months ago and didnt... i dont think waiting 2 days... or even til next week... is actually gonna fuck me up that bad. like these things are important to do and as soon as they can be but... its more pressing to get some food in the fridge ready for myself than it is to be worrying and stressing over having called and been unable to reach anymore this mornign so i went back to bed about it instead of calling for another half hour... i dont think i did anythign wrong.... like i AM DISABLED. my inability to STAY AWAKE IN THE MORNING AFTER I GET UP... IS SOMEHTIGN HUGELY AND ONGOINGLY EFFECTING ME LOL. and like i have to answer all their questions but i dont think they can actually DO anythign until they recieve the documents from my pcp which they arnt getting until mid oct bc thats the soonest i can see her... BC SHES ON MATERNITY LEAVE!!! and im DONE dealing with this clown shes got as her replacement... and my case manager KNOWS that i TOLD HER THAT if it was an issue she wouldve clued me in on it!!

i just need to get through tonight. i just need to make sure that tomorrows going to be a better day than today. and w/e else falls through the cracks is inconsequential it doesnt fucking matter if i dont shower tonight or i dont call until monday. im fully aware of the vague deadlines im working around and truth of the matter...my world has shifted more from “deadlines” to “waitign around survival mode.” there ISNT much i can brute force my way into happening. i only see my pulmonary monthly. i cant see pcp for 2 weeks. i cant make the dis@bility people pay me any faster.

and on that note. i am going to prepare future rory some more food for the end of the week bc he had a really shit day and i think he deserves to have something to look forward to

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goblinqueen626 · 2 months

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Blog #20

01/01/24

Officially been at Taco Bell for 2 weeks and I feel like each day I work there I get better. Everyone is nice and the jobs not too too hard. There are some days that are harder then others, like on the 28th are was a song apparently by a country dude about getting drunk and getting tacos from taco bell, so it was so busy aaaaall day. Last night was a friend and it was busy til 1:30 am bro, shit you not. I wanted to die.

Everyday before work I have a meltdown because everyday I wake up, some days drive all the way out to Pocahontas to drop Caleb off at Peco where he works, then all the way back to Paragould, work til 3am, then go back to Pocahontas to pick Caleb up, get home at around 4:30am, clean the litter box, do dishes, go to bed, wake up and do the same thing over again at 2pm. All week until the weekends. I get that that's having a job for you and this is my first time doing full time and I'm not used to it yet, I want to be so badly though, but honestly it's not the fact that I have to work so much that bothers me. It's because these past weekends were always doing something and I haven't been able to do anything myself. Like someone will have a bday party or a baby shower, or we have to get our taxes done which we still haven't done.

Our anniversary is on Monday, it'll be 5 years. And Greene County is making do jury duty. At least it's only in the morning at 8:30. I asked off for that day and they didn't give it to me at first and I panicked really bad but it's all good now thankfully. Today me and Caleb are buying anniversary gifts for each other. He's going to Grateful Headz rn, he tried to be secretive about it but it didn't work. When he gets back I'm going to Grateful Headz and then Special Moments to get something special, idk what yet. I'm thinking lingerie but I don't know yet. Then after that we're gonna go to Spencer's!! I'm gonna get a beanie there and a gauge kit because I've been thinking since I got my septum last year to gauge my ears and now I finally want to really do it. I've seen so many people in the drive thru having gauges of every style and I want some now. I also been wanting to get my nails done but still debating on it. If I have money left over which I doubt I will, I'll get them done with Zoey. But I doubt I'll have money since nails are like $50.

- 2:56 on a fuckin Saturday mate

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jacksonroseroth · 4 months

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~The Price~Chapter 2~

Moodboard by @badwolf-in-the-impala, pictures not mine

Reposting because I missed a chunk from chapter 1 XD

The following Monday marked a week til Christmas and Taddie was excited as she took a few hundreds from her overflowing piggy bank to do a bit of shopping for herself and Ash, seeing as they spent their Christmases alone, just the two of them and their pets. Ash had a 4 year old bullypit and Taddie moved in with a 2 year old Egyptian Mau cat. Thankfully, the two got along great, though they had their spats, as species do. Both pets were beyond spoiled, having their own beds, their own bedding and their own small wardrobe of clothes beside their two different sized baskets of toys.

After walking out of the pet store with, surprisingly, just a small bag only containing treats for each ‘child’, a bone for Rowdy, and cat grass for Juniper, Taddie crunched her way to the car with a shiver, speeding up her steps. Stamping her feet in the snow as she fumbled with her keys, she let out an audible shiver before ripping open the door and hopping in, immediately starting the car and warming it up as she plugged in her phone, starting her music. She sat there for a moment as she let the car warm up and she pulled up the address of the mall in Charlottesville, where the stores she wanted to go to were.

It was an hour drive, but with her music, it seemed like half an hour. Taddie was ecstatic to find a spot decently near the front and hurried in to get as much done as she could before it got too busy. She got a few new makeup kits for Ash, as well as a new fuzzy robe and a matching pair of slippers, along with a few bath bombs. Her eye was caught by a beautiful amethyst bracelet in a jewerly storefront and stood there for several minutes as she debated whether or not to buy it outright or see if she could put it on hold. Finally, she went in to ask about it, either way.

“Hello. What can I help you with today, Miss?” The saleswoman asked as she came up on the other side of a line of display cases that Taddie looked over.

“Hi-Um, actually, you have a really beautiful amethyst bracelet in the window? There was no price-How much for that?” Taddie asked, flashing the woman a smile. The woman nodded and moved around to the window, reaching through to grab the small display and set it on top of one of the cases. Taddie came around and touched the bracelet as she said, “Yes, this one here.”

“Ah, yes, this is a new set, we haven’t gotten the prices out just yet…But if I’m remembering correctly, this piece is going for $125.” The woman said, picking it up and draping it over her wrist as she held out her arm, showing it to Taddie. She nodded and smiled as she admired the bracelet then chewed her lip as she heard the price. Taking a deep breath, Taddie nodded and said, “Okay…Um, so this is for a friend-Amethyst is her birthstone-But I-I don’t have the whole $125…Can I-Do you do lay-away, or can I do a half now, half next week? A hold situation?”

“Unfortunately, we can’t do split payments on pieces this small in price, but if you have a credit card we can charge it, if you’d like to do it that way?” The woman offered, setting the bracelet back. Taddie shook her head with another sigh and her shoulders drooped a little more.

“Alright…Um-How-How much stock do you have in these? I don’t get paid until Friday, I’ll be back then--”

“Not to worry, Miss. It’s a new collection and we’ll have it in stock through New Year’s. I can take your name and number down, though, just in case it gets a rise in demand?” The woman offered as she put the display back. Taddie gave her a relieved, yet still sad smile, settling for this at least, then she’d have someone hopefully keeping an eye out for her.

“Yes, please. Thank you. That would be great.” Taddie said, following the woman to the register, where she grabbed a pad of paper and a pen. The woman took her name and number and Taddie thanked her before walking out, her smile dropping off her face with a sigh as she muttered to herself, “Damnit…Ash would have loved that.”

Shaking her head, Taddie pushed through the crowd of people, heading toward BoxLunch to see if their Loungefly backpacks were on sale and what they had in stock. She elbowed her way through to the stand and looked them over, seeing them on a BOGO sale. She was excited, but carefully went over them all before she grabbed two-A Foster’s Home For Imaginary Friends one for herself, that she nearly broke her neck over she did such a quick double take, and Stranger Things one for Ash, that had Eddie Munson’s face on it. She knew this had to be her last gift purchase and she was more than happy with the haul she’d gotten, still feeling sad about not being able to get the bracelet for Ash.

Taddie knew she’d probably make more than that later on during her shift that night and she could have done a simple transfer from her savings to get the piece, but she needed to show some kind of self restraint, despite her pretty, shiny, squirrel brain telling her to buy it, buy it, buy it! She slipped the strap of her last bag around her wrist, shaking it down her arm as she walked out, a small smile on her face and letting out a relieved sigh. Taddie was so content, excited, and anxious to get home and start wrapping, she didn’t see the man in her path and crashed into him.

“Oh! Oh-Oh, I-I’m so sorry. I wasn’t paying attention. I’m so-” Taddie stopped, blinking up at Thatcher as he held her arms with a chuckle, staring down at her with his green eyed gaze and a crooked smile. “Thatcher.”

“Taddie. Nice running into you.” Thatcher rumbled at her, guiding her to the side, as not to block the flow of traffic. Taddie, gripped his arm and glanced around as he moved them out of the way, taking a deep breath before looking back up at him. “What are you doing in Charlottesville?”

“I-Well, I could ask you the same. My answer is a little more obvious.” Taddie said, lifting her arm as she pulled her hand back. Thatcher chuckled and nodded along before he said, “Fair enough--I’m in town on, uh, family business. Finished early and we wanted to make a stop for a few gifts for our mother.”

“We?”

“Thatch!” A voice called, making them both turn. Two dark haired men made their way over; One with a bright smirk and a piercing blue gaze, the other with a furrowed brow and a darken, intense gaze, staring at Thatcher. “There you are. The fuck? Why’d you wander off?”

Thatcher chuckled and locked his arm around Blue Eyes’ neck, making the young man bend down forcefully as he snickered. Thatcher taunted him in Swedish before he said in English, “-Found a friend and I wanted to say hi. I can’t have friends?”

“You?-Ahh-ahh! Okay, okay, I’m sorry!” The young man cried as Thatcher latched his hand to the back of his neck and squeezed, making the young man squirm around. Thatcher laughed and released him, giving him a half shove back. The other dark haired man caught Blue Eyes, making his smile instantly fall off his face and clear his throat as he straightened himself and was released.

“Are you going to introduce us to your…Friend, then, brother?” The dark haired man said, his hard gaze sweeping over Taddie and raising a brow. Taddie bit her lip and quickly cast her gaze down, shifting on her feet. Thatcher shot him a look, then cleared his throat as he gently laid a hand on her arm and said, “This is Taddie, she’s one of the bartender’s at the Wench.”

“Bartenders are your friends now.” The dark haired man said, his voice rough and deep as he raised it, lifting a brow at his brother. Taddie winced and shot the man a look as Thatcher spoke up and said, “They can be, yes. You’d find you can make friends anywhere if you ever tried, Tommy…”

Thatcher let out a deep sigh and shook his head before he continued, “Anyway--Taddie, this is my younger brother, one of the twins-Tristan. And my older brother, Thomas.”

Taddie took a deep breath, briefly glaring at Thomas before flashing Tristan a sweet smile as she said, “It’s nice to meet you both. I’m, uh, sorry if I interrupted your shopping.”

“Not at all-You’re not the one that ran off.” Thomas said, his gaze flickering to his younger brother with a brief glare. Tristan stepped forward, blocking Thomas from both Thatcher and Taddie, taking her hand with a charming smile and kissing the back of it as he said, “It’s very nice to meet you--Taddie? That’s an interesting name.”

“It’s, uh, it’s short for Thaden, but no one calls me that anymore.” Taddie said, with a soft giggle, blushing as Tristan smiled at her with quite a breathtaking smile. Thatcher planted his hand to his brother’s chest, pushing him back and giving him a look as he said, “Anyway…It, uh, was great to run into you outside the bar, Taddie. I’ll see you there tonight?”

“For your usual double whiskey and a smoke that lasts all of 10 minutes?” Taddie teased, shifting her gaze to Thatcher with a smirk. He chuckled down at her with a smile and she nodded, taking a step back as she said, “I’m on shift, so I guess so. It was nice to meet you…Tristan. Thomas…Maybe we can try again for a first impression.”

Taddie wrinkled her nose at the brothers before she turned on a heel and disappeared in the passing crowd. Thatcher chuckled and smirked to himself before he turned to his brothers and raised a brow as he said, “Well? Go on, Tom. I know you have an opinion about her.”

“This is what you’re spending time on? A barmaid, Thatcher? You know Father will never approve of her.” Thomas said, raising his brows before turning and walking away. Thatcher rolled his eyes and he quickly followed, Tristan trailing behind them.

“What, in my entire life that I’ve done, has ever been approved by Father? I don’t give a fuck about Father.” Thatcher said, shooting his brother a glare as they moved through the crowd, toward the parking garage. “She’s gonna be at Christmas so you’d might as well get used to it now.”

Thomas threw his head back in a laugh then gave Thatcher an incredulous look before he said, “You really think this little plan of yours is gonna work? Our name has a lot of pull, little brother, but not that much pull. Don’t waste your money on this bitch. Father will get you a purebred if that’s what you want, but don’t try to find it on your own, Thatch. You’ve tried it once before and how did that turn out?”

“That’s a low blow, Tommy.” Tristan piped up as Thatcher grabbed Thomas’ shoulder and spun him around, glaring down as he towered over his older brother.

“Don’t you dare-” Thatcher started, getting in his face before Tristan pulled him back and patted his chest as he said, “Hey, hey-Easy, boys. Easy. We aren’t in Roanoke, we’re not at home. Don’t start shit here--Tom, that was fucked up. Thatch-I kind of agree with him. Father won’t approve, and you really think Mother will? I’d think about it a little more, brother.”

“Thanks for the support, Tris. Fuck you both. You know what?--It’s my car, find your own way back home.” Thatcher said, shrugging his little brother off and pushing his way through the crowd. Thomas shook his head at him and he and Tristan continued on as Thomas pulled his phone from his pocket to call them a car.

Taddie sighed as she plopped down on the couch, setting her shopping bags on the coffee table in front of her. She groaned as she slipped out of her boots and left them by the end of the couch before going through the bags and sorting everything out. Grabbing everything, she brought the bags to her room, beginning to wrap everything up. Halfway through, her bedroom door was pushed open and a meow pierced the silence, making her jump. Juniper appeared on the bed and began sniffing around at everything.

With a laugh, Taddie reached out and gently grabbed the cat’s tail, making her meow, annoyed, before continuing to sniff around. “What’s going on, Juni? Where’s Rowdy? He still sleeping?”

Juniper meowed in return then wandered over to her mother, purring and rubbing against her hand and arm. Taddie giggled and scooped up the animal, cuddling her in a baby pose. Juniper meowed loudly then jumped out of her arms before jumping onto Taddie’s shoulder, making her chuckle and reach up to scratch at her ears.

“Well, don’t get in my way, girl. I’ve got shit to get wrapped before Auntie Ashy gets home.” Taddie said, pressing a kiss to Juniper’s side before turning back to the bags and reaching into one for the last gift. At least she thought. Scrunching up her face, Taddie felt around and pulled out a slender, rectangular box that she didn’t remember buying. Flipping it open, she let out a loud gasp as the amethyst bracelet sat in velvet lining. She slid a finger over the stones and bit her lip as she tried to think if she’s crazy and she bought the bracelet or…Well, there was just no ‘or’. She didn’t buy the bracelet.

While Taddie was utterly confused about how she ended up with the bracelet, she, nonetheles, wrapped it, along with the last gift before cleaning everything up and stashing the presents under the tree before she jumped into the shower to get ready for her shift. Ash came home as Taddie got out and the pair got ready together, dreading going into the week before Christmas, knowing it would be hell. Ash drove them to the bar and the entire time, Taddie’s mind was spinning about how the bracelet ended up in her bag and had a mini anxiety attack that the store would send someone after her because she didn’t pay for it. There was no charge on her account or her credit card that gave an indication where the money came from to pay for it.

Taddie pushed the feeling aside as Ash turned into the parking lot, seeing the bar fully packed, already from the dinner rush. With deep groans from both women, they exchanged a pained look before they got out and hurried as safely as they could through the snow, to the back door and into the establishment. They shook off the snow and quickly changed their shoes and tied their aprons behind their backs before slipping out into the bar and jumping in the line, starting to mix drinks and clean up from the opening shift. She was so wrapped up in knocking out the rush and trying to make it to the slum in the night, she didn’t even notice Thatcher walk in and take his usual seat. He stayed quiet, watching her scurry from one end of the bar to the other with an amused smile on his face as he puffed on a few cigarettes for about an hour.

When she finally slowed down after making a round to grab empty glasses, she went to the station beside Thatcher’s spot, plunging the entire tray into the water and beginning to scrub. Blowing out his smoke and carefully clasping his hands together, Thatcher said, “It’s a madhouse in here, eh?”

“You don’t know the half of it. It’s only going to get worse and the owners don’t fucking want to hire more help.” Taddie grumbled, not realizing who she was speaking to. Thatcher chuckled and said, “Awe, come on, I thought you liked Tristan?”

Taddie’s head shot up, zeroing in on Thatcher, then gasped as her eyes went wide and her mouth dropped open. She pulled her arms out of the water and dried them off as she stammered, “Oh, m-Oh-Oh, God. Tha-Thatcher, I-I’m so sorry. I-I didn’t see you-”

“It’s alright, Taddie, it’s alright. Though, to be fair, it’s our father that doesn’t want to waste more money on the bar, not Tristan. He knows how hard you all work keeping this place running.” Thatcher said, lifting his hand to take another drag. Taddie quickly grabbed for his bottle of whiskey and found the spot empty, letting out an annoyed groan.

“Can someone grab me another bottle of rye?!” Taddie called down the bar.

“We’re out till next week, Tad! Company shut down for the holiday!” One of the girls called back, making Taddie sigh and brace her hands on the bar, letting her head hang down. Thatcher chuckled and slid his hand over hers, making her head shoot up, her eyes flickering from his hand to his gaze as he said, “Relax, Taddie. Whatever else you have is fine, but…I actually wanted to talk to you for a few minutes, in private if I could?”

“Wha-I--Now?” Taddie asked, pulling her hand out from under his as she straightened and turned to grab another bottle of whiskey. Thatcher nodded and watched her shake up the drink before pouring it into a glass and glancing at him. He produced another $100, as usual, then shifted his fingers as she reached for it, a second appearing.

“I’ll pay you for your time if that’s what your worried about-Missing out on tips?” Thatcher offered as she reached for the money, then stopped. She shot him a look and said, “I’m worried about not doing my part for my team, for my girls. I can get tips easy, the job not so much.”

“I promise you, you’ll never lose your job…Come sit with me for a while, Taddie. I just want to talk.” Thatcher said with a soft chuckle. Taddie chewed her lip and glanced either way down the bar, seeing the girls in their clusters as they chattered, all their tables and patrons taken care of. With a deep sigh, Taddie snatched the money from his hand and stuffed it into her bra before pushing away from the bar. Thatcher chuckled and scooped up his glass, stamping out his cigarette as Taddie made her way around the bar, stopping to tell Ash where she was going to be before meeting Thatcher at the end of the bar. He held out his hand, letting her take the lead and he followed her to a back booth that was out of the way and empty.

Sliding in, Taddie let out a deep sigh as she sat back and watched Thatcher slip in beside her, getting a little too close, making her shift a little further away. He slid his drink onto the table and laid his arm on the back of the booth, behind her, as he said, “So…Did you like the bracelet?”

Taddie blinked at him, letting out a soft gasp as she cried, “That was you?!”

Thatcher smirked and let his gaze drift over to his hand, where his fingers caught a few curls and rubbed them between his fingers as he said, “I saw you in the jewelry store and you looked so sad and disappointed…I thought you liked blue though, not purple?”

“I do, it’s not for me, it’s for--How do you know I like blue? How did--Are you stalking me?” Taddie asked, the realization dawning over her and she shifted further away from him. He caught her wrist and dragged her back to him, stroking his thumb over her inner wrist. She let out a soft gasp, staring up at him as he said, “I don’t like that word. It’s very negative--I see it as protecting…I’ve had my men following you, purely for extra protection.”

“Oh, my God. Ashlen was right--You-You really are in the mob, aren’t you?” Taddie said, softly in astonishment. Thatcher’s lips turned upward in a smirk, then he let out a deep rumble of a chuckle as he said something to her in Swedish, then in English, said, “-My family is yes…I don’t like to think that I am, however. I really am in a band. I’m more than just the rebel child, I’m the black sheep of one of the blackest marked families in Sweden.”

“So-So, wh-So, what do you want with me? I’m not abandoning my job, my dreams for some-”

“No, no, no. I’d never ask you to do that. In all honesty, the fact that you’re a painter interests me more. I love music and art, much to my family’s disapproval, among many things, but, I digress.” Thatcher said with a nonchalant sigh and a smile. Taddie took a deep breath and let it out slowly as she narrowed her gaze at him and repeated, “So, what do you want with me?”

“I want you. Simple as that.” He replied, releasing her arm and letting her lean back from him. She blinked, stunned and speechless, desperately trying to find her words as quick as she could. His eyes slid over her with an appreciative look before he continued with, “I have a proposal for you--The studio you’re saving for? How much do you have saved and how much is the space?”

“Why do you care?” Taddie shot at him. Thatcher merely raised a brow at her, holding her gaze as he brought his glass to his lips, taking a deep swig. She chewed her lip then let out an irritated sigh before she said, “It’s $5,000 outright with a $2,000 a month rent.”

“Can you make that a month?” He asked, slowly lifting his hand and sliding his fingers under her jaw, back to her neck, rubbing his fingertips into her skin. She suppressed a shiver before she shook her head and said, “N-No, that’s why-that’s why I’m still going to be working here once…If I get the studio.”

Taddie blinked a few times as she drew in a breath, shaking his hand out of her hair as she said, “Wh-Wha-What-What’s this proposal you have? What does it have to do with the studio?”

Thatcher dug into his pocket and pulled out a key on a sliver chain with a fancy P on it. Taddie blinked and her mouth half dropped open as Thatcher said, “This is the key to my apartment. What I’m proposing, is that you stay with me for a month, play the girlfriend, completely in love couple for me, for appearances.”

“Why would I even entertain that notion? I don’t even know you, Thatcher.” She said, narrowing her gaze at him again.

“Mmm-But I know you; Thaden. Rylin. Prior. I’ve done my research well enough, trust me. And the reason you should entertain my notion…If you can spend the month with me, a full month, then I’ll not only pay for your studio, but I’ll also throw in a million dollars for your troubles. Use it for what you will, though I hope you’ll use it to create more masterpieces.” Thatcher said with a coy smirk, his voice turning to a rumble, his words drawing over her like silk and making it sound much too inviting. Taddie swallowed hard, excited at the thought of having everything paid, already doing calculations of how much she would need to purchase to set her up for at least two years, and she still had about 750,000 left to spend. But she pushed the excitement down, knowing that if he was offering this much, there was a catch and she was almost certain she knew what it was.

“If I can? What does that mean; If I can? What-What’s the catch?” Taddie asked as he reached for her again, taking a few curls between his fingers, letting out a light, but deep chuckle before he said, “You only get the money if you don’t fall in love with me at the end of the month.”

Taddie let out a laugh, then snapped her mouth shut, biting her lip through a smirk as she composed herself before she said, “Um, I-I don’t think that will be a problem, but-but let’s say for argument’s sake, I do…I don’t get the money, then what? I’ve wasted a month of my life trying for nothing?”

“Oh, no, I’ll still pay for the studio.”

Scrunching up her face, Taddie tsk’d at him as she said, “So, why even give a challenge if you’re going to do it anyway? I fall in love with you, then what?”

“We get married.” Thatcher stated, rather confidently, so much so in fact it made Taddie inhaled so fast she choked on her own spit for a moment before he chuckled and said, “After being together for at least six months to a year, of course. But if we’re already in love, then what’s the point of you leaving?”

“Why are you doing this, Thatcher? You-You don’t know me. You might have had your people follow me, but you don’t know me, and I don’t know you-”

“Then why not use this time to get to know each other?” Thatcher asked, before pushing his hand to the back of her head and bringing her closer as he curled his fingers around her roots, gently. She let out a gasp as his voice dropped a few octaves and he rumbled out, “What I want from you, Taddie-Is to come home to me every night. I’ll have a warm meal ready for you or a massage to help you go right to sleep after a long night. You’ll come to family dinner with me every Sunday and we’ll play the couple in love. Whether you feel it or not, you have a good masking skill that would fool anyone that couldn’t see through it.”

“And what makes you think your family wouldn’t see through me? Your brother, Thomas, sure did. He’s not my biggest fan and he doesn’t even know me.” Taddie shot back. He nodded along and let his nose brush against hers, making her emit a shuddered gasp and press a hand to his chest. “Thatcher, you don’t even know me. Why do you want me so bad?”

“Because I’ve been watching you, too. I like what I see and I want to know more. If you don’t want to sleep in the same bed as me, I’ll gladly give it up and take the couch. I’ll never touch you in a way to make you uncomfortable, I’ll not touch you in that way, unless you make the first move or we discuss it beforehand…The million is for a month’s worth of girlfriend treatment, going both ways, of course, so for you-There’s really no downside any way you slice it. You’ll be a kept woman for the foreseeable future if you succeed, and a kept woman if you don’t. During your trials and tribulations, I’ll obviously need to play the boyfriend--Romantic dates, surprises, gifts, special treatment around the house when we visit, around town-”

“No special treatment around town. I’m not going to have my reputation become ‘The girlfriend of the Boss’ son’. Absolutely not, Thatcher.” Taddie shot at him. His lips lifted in a smirk as he said, “You’re not saying no…As a matter of fact, that sounds like your considering it?”

“I-I’m--” Taddie snapped her mouth shut and let out a deep sigh. Thatcher chuckled and slipped the keychain into her hand as he released his hold on her hair. Dragging his hand across her cheek, he slipped his fingers under her chin and lifted it as he said, “My number is on the back of the keychain. Call me when you leave and I’ll give you the address. At least show up tonight, Taddie. Give it the week. I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”

Thatcher had dropped his head closer to hers and his lips brushed over hers as he spoke. His hot, whiskey scented breath washed over her and she felt something stir in her chest and a gushing between her thighs. She squeezed her legs tighter together as she bit her lip, staring back at him. His thumb stroked her jaw, making it drop as her lips parted in a soft whine, then they pressed together again as she curled her fingers around the edge of his jacket. Part of her desperately hoped he would kiss her, another pleaded with whatever higher power there was that he wouldn’t. She was within a hair’s breath of melting and bending to what this man wanted, something she’d been desperately fighting for the last several years.

“And if I don’t show?” Taddie asked, breathing it out in a low whisper. Thatcher let her go, beginning to dig through his pockets as he said, “Then you don’t show. I’ll come collecting my key, don’t worry. And don’t lose it.”

As he pulled out another hundred, Taddie’s hand shot up to his to stop him as she said, “No--Please, don’t. No-No more. If-If I’m going to do this…If…Then-then no more just handing me hundreds for my time. I-I need to earn it some kind of way. Tip my for the drink, tip me for a refill…”

“You know, if you’re going to do this, I’m going to be giving you more than just money. You’re going to have to get used to it one way or another, Princess.” Thatcher said, his lips lifting in a smirk as she twisted her face up and shook her head. As he tucked his money back into his pocket, he chuckled and said, “What-You don’t like pet names?”

“Don’t call me ‘Princess’ like that and talk down to me. It’s not cute, it’s arrogant and being an ass-” Thatcher quickly ducked his head down, easing his lips over hers in a deep kiss. Taddie clung to him as she kissed him back, then quickly broke it and pushed him away. He caught her arms, so he didn’t go far, then he chuckled and said, “I wasn't talking down to you, darlin’. I’d never talk down to you. How about we talk about it all tonight. If…You decide to show.”

Taddie simply nodded, watching him slide out of the booth, scooping up his drink and downing the rest of it. He gave her a wink and walked away, taking the glass up to the bar and handing it off to one of the girls. She watched him head toward the door as she slid to the edge of the booth, seeing Thatcher find her gaze and give her a smile as three of his bodyguards met him at the door. Just as she wondered where the fourth was, he came up on her side, offering his hand as she scooted out. She jumped, slightly, then gave him a sweet smile as she took his hand and he helped her out of the booth. After offering him a soft ‘Thank you’, she hurried to the bar and busied herself back with mixing drinks and cleaning down the bar. Thatcher nodded at the man as he walked out with the others, the man going back to his spot and posting up for the night.

Let me know what you guys think! If you want to be added to the taglist for future chapter, send me a message!

Taglist: @badwolf-in-the-impala

#Jolly Karlsson #Joakim Jolly Karlsson #Noah Sebastian #Nick Folio #Nicholas Ruffilo #Jolly Fic #Jolly Fan Fic #Jolly Karlsson Fan Fic #Bad Omens #Bad Omens Fan Fic #Mafia AU #Bad Omens Mafia AU

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suckitsurveys · 10 months

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What name do you go by most often? Hannah.

Have you ever played Geoguessr? Yes, I love that game. Mark and I play together a lot. It drops you off in a random place on Google Maps and you have to figure out where you are based on landmarks and streets and stuff. It’s pretty cool.

How many times have you been to a Disney theme park? Zero.

Are there any live plants in the room with you? Yes, there is an amaryllis and an aloe plant.

Did you grow up with your cousins, first or otherwise? Yeah, I grew up with my first cousin Kelly’s kids mostly. We spent a lot of summers together when we were all little.

Who is your favorite That 70′s Show character, if you have one? Jackie.

What color is your hair? It’s kind of a brassy blonde right now. It needs to be dyed so bad.

Can you see any type of flag from where you are? I can see a pride flag sticker on my cabinet.

Do you eat shellfish? What is your favorite? Yes. I LOVE most shellfish but my favorite is crab.

What’s your favorite theme song to a TV show/cartoon? Oh wow, there’s so many good ones out there it’s hard to choose. BoJack is always up there though.

Are your nails painted? What color? They still have bits of purple on them. I need to get them done so bad too.

What is your favorite way to eat chicken? With my mouth. Hah. I prefer in tender/strip/finger/popcorn/nugget/boneless wing form. Also in taco form.

Can you name all the major sports teams in your city/state? Bulls, Cubs, Bears, Blackhawks, White Sox, Fire.

Do you use a comb or a hairbrush or both? Mostly just a hairbrush.

What was the last movie you watched? I can’t remember actually. It’s been a bit since I watched a movie.

Have you ever seen BoJack Horseman? Oh yes. It’s my favorite show of all time.

What color is your house/building? It’s a weird yellowy-tan.

Do you know the middle name of the person you last talked to in person? I do. It’s Alan. I know this only because it used to be on all his outgoing emails.

What is today’s date? How many days til your birthday? It’s June 15. There’s about 2 and 1/2 months til my birthday

When is the last time you had Starbucks? Monday.

What is your favorite number? Does it have to do with a specific date? 24. It was the day my cousin was born, the day Mark asked me out, the day we got married, the day my niece was born, and the day my kitty was born. All in different months/years, of course.

Do you watch SNL? Who are your favorite cast members? Oh yessssss. I used to watch it with my parents every time it was on and then I stopped for a while but I got back into it recently. I have SO many favorites man. So many amazing people came from that show. Lemme try to narrow it down to 10? Lol. A mix of all time favorite and current favorites: Tina Fey, Amy Poehler, Bill Hader, Andy Samberg, Pete Davidson, Molly Shannon, Cecily Strong, Seth Meyers, Aidy Bryant, Michael Longfellow. Yeah I’ll go with those but there are SO many more lol.

What color is your phone? The phone itself is blue. My case is pink.

Do you have any siblings? Yeah, an older sister.

How many hours of sleep do you get a night? Never enough.

What did you have for lunch? I brought a salad I’ll eat later.

Favorite streaming service? They all have their perks lol.

Who is your favorite Pokemon? I’m basic af but Pikachu.

Do you like soup? What kinds? I do. I love a good bisque haha.

When was the last time you flew on a plane? In February.

What is your favorite movie Paul Rudd has been in? Wet Hot American Summer and Clueless.

What room of your house (or otherwise) are you in? I am in my office at work.

What style of pizza do you prefer (thin crust, stuffed crust, deep dish, detroit style, etc)? I love a good thin crust tavern style that’s really saucy and cheesy. I also like deep dish.

Can you see your favorite animal from where you are sitting? (on an article of clothing, a figurine, a stuffed animal, etc...maybe even alive?) I have 3 favorite animals and I can see all of them in one way or another. Cats: picture of my cats, some cat magnets, a cat figure above my computer, and a cat mug. Bats: several bat cut outs on the wall by me, bat lights above my computer, a bat planter, a neon bat light, a wooden bat figure. Pandas: i have a litte panda plush on my desk, a magnet with a panda on it, and panda sticky notes.

Do you know how to play the card game Skip-Bo? Yes, I love Skip-Bo.

What was the last museum you went to? The Museum of Science and Industry. Wait, no. An art museum when I was in Boston.

What was the last celebrity gossip you got sucked into? Anything involving Pete Davidson ahahaha. The last thing was his whole voicemail he left to PETA and that whole bullshit.

Do you own any merch from concerts/comedy shows/broadway shows, etc? Oh yes. I always try to buy something from any thing I see live if there’s stuff available. The last thing I purchased was a totebag and a sticker from the Tina Fey and Amy Poehler Restless Leg Tour.

What was the last thing to annoy you? Work.

Who is your favorite comedian? John Mulaney.

What are some names you like that start with the first letter of your name? Harriet, Hattie, Henry, Harlow, Harris.

When is the next time you’ll be in a pool or body of water? Hopefully Monday!!!

#surveys

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purpleyin · 2 years

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I started doing the joylists idea with Lughnasadh and so far I’m not finding it too hard to list 13 things I’m grateful for each Monday, but I have to say despite being grateful for stuff life is pretty hard right now. Mainly because health (content warning for chronic illness and medical stuff below the read more).

I started taking iron supplements for low iron because tests done to figure out my increased fatigue this year showed that, but the ironic thing there is I used to have even lower ferritin in 2019 and 2020 when they’d tested me before and they didn’t deem that treatable then. So honestly I doubt the low iron is responsible for my increased fatigue this year, but it’s always possible it’s responsible for some of my ongoing fatigue anyhow. The downside to taking these is they are really hard to space out as I can’t take certain meds within 4 hours of them and you’re meant to avoid food/drink if you can and of certain types especially to not be taken with, like caffeine and milk. All this has meant my sleep cycle is screwy since I get up early to take a tablet and then try to go back to sleep to get enough hours before breakfast and normal medications. But my body isn’t taking to the new routine well, it still doesn’t want to sleep until 3-4am and I get up at 8am to take one, then sleep til 12 noon to get more sleep. That only ends up with about 8 hours sleep when my body needs 10 hours to be okay, so it’s slowly sleep depriving me. :( I ended up skipping this mornings tablet just to be able to have a lie-in and give my body a break.

GPs and I both are of the opinion that my autoimmune stuff has been flaring up too, which is probably responsible for both the increase in fatigue and worsening of my photosensitivity that I didn’t notice until it was summer and I tried occasionally going out again and got hit by migraines a lot more and a lot more easily too. I got migraine glasses that help some but there’s not really anything I can do about the fatigue and brain fog that’s making it hard to focus and work right now. Unfortunately I’m still waiting to hear back from the hospital properly, they gave a brief call to apologise that my general followup appointment is 2 months overdue already but couldn’t answer when I’d get a call back about that or the flare-up. Fun fact, my specialist no longer works there! /s. It sounds like they are short staffed and I don’t have anyone assigned to me yet, some mention of a junior doctor taking on me as a patient which doesn’t fill me with confidence. Though I suppose the advantage of younger doctors is possibly less set in their ways, might be more uptodate on recent research and treatments.

I’ve also been worried about my dental health lately. I’m doing better at keeping up a routine now and taking it seriously but I’ve not seen a dentist for 11 years and I full well know that there will be things that need doing. I expect several fillings but I’m concerned maybe some getting left too late might mean extractions or root canals or something else major. I’m kind of worried I may have done irreparable damage to my gums as well from years of not managing selfcare well enough while ill and depressed, I think they have receded in places and I don’t think that can be fixed. I know the answer is I just need to go and deal with whatever needs doing, the sooner it’s dealt with the better, but the spanner in the works is that nowhere in my city is taking NHS patients on right now. Some places have waiting lists but wouldn’t even estimate how long the wait is - if I don’t know if it will be weeks, months or even years then I can’t tell how urgent it is for me to try to find a way to make private treatment work instead. I found 1 private place that has more affordable rates (it’s a chain) and I was prepared to get on there but honestly can’t cope with sorting that out while other stuff is going on. I may need to stop certain medications to be able to have work done and stopping them during a flare-up isn’t gonna be a good idea. I also would need to contact the hospital for more advice on this and they are often tricky to get a hold of and that all adds up to more than I can cope with right now. I may just need to put this on the back burner until my flare-up is dealt with but who knows when that is gonna be.

In the category of one fork too many, I had yet another prescription ordeal which this left me without my preventative inhaler for over a week due to stock shortages with my online pharmacy. It kept saying in stock soon so I waited a day longer several times expecting it’d just be a bit late, but it wasn’t changing and then they were slow to respond to my ‘I need it sooner’ support ticket and couldn’t move the prescription elsewhere when some items had been fulfilled already. Taken several days to sort out emergency prescription redone to local place. Pharmacy promised to liaise with GPs about it urgently but then didn’t so I had to instead and GPs did it but didn’t tell me it had been sent to the pharmacy until I rang up to check. Been quite anxious this week, probably because of that since taking just my emergency inhaler is clearly not enough and it is disconcerting to feel my lungs get worse each day. I always think of my asthma as mild, but this was a stark reminder that is only seems so because the medication is controlling it and without them it gets worse fairly quickly. I should get my new one today so long as the local pharmacy has stock, but it might take my lungs a while to get back to normal. It’s possible this has been fucking with my sleep too, I guess I’ll find out soon whether that or my anxiety improves any once I’ve been on it for a while again. I don’t know if the anxiety was situational or if it might also be a neuro symptom of my flare-up potentially.

I have had one load taken off me lately, finally transitioned out of a volunteer role I’d been doing for years. Trained my replacement. Not sure if they will stay since they felt it was a bit overwhelming, but that ceases to be my problem. Another work project, formatting a book in InDesign - which has been a steep learning curve - is also hopefully almost done. First printing is getting done soon, might need some corrections but it would be nice if it is good as is and nothing more, put that project to rest too. I still have some other work stuff hanging over me I really need to sort out but low spoons and problems focusing are making it hard to do much of anything the last few weeks. I have spurts of enthusiasm for writing and other projects but the energy isn’t really there to back up those aims most of the time which makes me sad. I just really need to have less on my plate so I will be glad once I’ve finished wipbigbang art too.

#personal #hans rants #chronic illness #chronic fatigue

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m-iikeu · 2 years

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[220608] 4:48 AM

#miikeu_diary : 📝

hi, I haven't posted here for 2 days. I was about to post but I've been doing some stuffs. I will still write here the things that happened to me for the past two days.

6th of June, the only thing I remember was ordering unofficial PCs and an album. Yesss! I was impulsively buying stuffs during the 6.6 sale 😭. I can already picture out myself what I am in the future if I already have work and can earn money. This is a red flag to me. Anyways, last Monday, I ordered lots of photocards, especially Jake PCs. I really wanted to have any of his rare PC but unfortunately I'm broke and can't afford to buy an official one, so I just only ordered for unofficial. I'm already excited to receive the photocards from my previous orders but then I ordered again so my pending orders will extend again for 3-5 weeks. Might receive it by the last week of July or early August, idk 😭. Another thing I did last June 6 was streaming to a live selling. Omggg, I was waiting there for almost 3 hours until I got an album. Yes, I started to join the stream by 8 pm until 11 til I got the album that I wanted. Finally, I already got an ENHYPEN's first album, my dream album!! I was so nervous that time that maybe I can't get one cuz there's a lot of people waiting and also my internet was so slow and I'm also delayed. But thank God, I was still able to get one. I kind of disappointed about the inclusions but I guess it's worth it, considering the price was very low. But still I was happy 😊.

7th of June, I woke up very late that day. We have reporting but I didn't join the meet cuz I wasn't prepared. I also missed the session for the orientation of our research proposal. I felt like, I'm no longer a good student. I feel unmotivated and I have this thoughts on quitting. But I can't cuz I don't want to disappoint my family. Nothing happened special on that day, I just helped my classmates do our assignments, after that I'm being unproductive again.

I don't have much on my mind right now. It's already 5:48 AM and it took me 1 hour to compose this diary. what the hck. My parents already woke up and I'm here pretending to sleep whenever they get in to my room. I haven't sleep yet, so maybe after I post this, I can sleep already. I'll try to update later, I can't promise cuz I still have lots of school activities to be done. I hope I can finish it on time. That's it for this morning. Bye!

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frecklystars · 3 years

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I just got home from an absolutely heinous day at work... and I still don’t have a bunch of alien robots transforming outta their vehicle forms to come over and hold me and kiss my head 😤😤

#or one-eyed copepods w/ long braided hair??? HM???? WHERE ARE MY BOYS #COME GET YOUR GIRLFRIEND SHE'S SAD AND PATHETIC AND COVERED IN FLOOR CLEANER #all the floorcare machines BROKE DOWN. AGAIN #HOLES IN THE TUBES. CANNOT BE REPAIRED #the managers are still stressed so theyre scolding EVERYONE #got yelled at for wearing earbuds OFF THE CLOCK? OFF THE CLOCK? OFF THE CLOCK #CANT WEAR EARBUDS WHEN IM WALKING TO MY CAR ON MY LUNCH BREAK?#RIDICULOUS #and i have floorcare AGAIN tomorrow #i just!!! wanna finish this animatic for my friend... guhhhh #but i dont think ill get it done in time...#i only have til monday to get this done and i still have 2 and a half mins of it left...#bc my manager told me to stay late tomorrow #didnt even ask she was like 'hey we need u tomorrow @ midnight'#WHY AM I THE ONLY ONE TRAINED FOR FLOORCARE #IVE BEEN HERE FOR FIVE YEARS CAN U TEACH ME HOW TO CASHIER #I AM DYING TO DO OTHER THINGSSSS #GHGHUGHHH #vent #woof

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fuck-customers · 3 years

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I work for Wing Hault and I was the only cashier to close two nights in a row this week. we normally have 2 cashiers and someone who just hands out delivery orders. the first time was because our delivery person nocallnoshowed and got fired. she stayed on the schedule all week and my manager didnt call anyone to cover her shift the second day I was supposed to work with her so it was two people doing 3 jobs then the other cashier who was training the incompetent new guy had to go home so I was literally the only one trained on register that night. last night we had 2 cashiers and our delivery expert but the cashier who was supposed to close with me left early because she had to open today. my manager shouldnt have let her leave bc that specific delivery expert isnt allowed to stay after 12 to help us close because she had done that before and an old shift lead who also got fired ratted her out for helping past her shift hours to the GM and now she isnt allowed to stay! so I had to close the whole fucking front of house by myself when I normally have one or two other people helping me! I still managed to get out by 12:59, and I normally get out 12:30-12:45. in addition on monday my gm was in and called a fucking impromptu meeting bc we had a terrible chaotic night because of customers and that night I stayed til 1:30. this week fucking sucked but at least I'm going on vacation and can pick up my check today

#submissions #fuck customers #embarrassing #fuck coworkers #fuck managers #cashier problems #fuck foodservice

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babbysquid · 3 years

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Not A Whiskey Drinker Pt. 2

Author’s Note: Oh my goodness thank you all for the positive feedback on NAWD! I’m really enjoying writing this and living out my own fantasy. The DRAMA begins in the part after this so prepare yourself for that!

Warnings: mild cursing

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

Sunday had passed by quickly and it was now Monday at 8am. Your interview was at 9. You studied your reflection in the mirror. You were wearing the outfit that Parker had helped you pick out but had the shirt buttoned all the way up. Grabbing your bag you and throwing on your shoes you looked at yourself one more time. Chewing the inside of your cheek you took a deep breath.

“Fuck it.” you whispered to and you unbuttoned the top two buttons of your shirt, just as Parker had done previously.

You stood outside a tall office building and looked up. It looked modern and new, but not imposing. Swallowing hard you pushed your shoulders back, raised your head up, and strutted through the front door. Fake it til you make it as they say.

“Hi I’m Y/N Y/L/N.” you said to the receptionist at the front desk. “I have an interview with Mr. Daniels.”

“Ah yes Mr. Daniels has been expecting you. Give me one second and I’ll take you to his office.” said the receptionist.

“Ah it’s okay Sara, I got it.” said a voice from behind you.

Turning around you saw a gorgeous woman. She wore a white button down and black slacks. Her short haircut was modern and cute. It suited her face really well. Thick glasses sat on the edge of her nose. She gave you a kind smile. Looking at her outfit and her appearance in general you suddenly felt self conscious. Maybe you should’ve stuck with the fully buttoned up shirt.

“I’m Ginger.” she said, extending her hand.

You took her hand in yours as you introduced yourself and the two of you walked to the elevators.

“So you have an interview with Jack?”

You nodded.

She laughed a little and it almost seemed like she was taking pity on you.

“He’s a good guy, but he’s definitely a character. He means well though.”

You smiled back. New York City was definitely filled with interesting and strange people. Your mind quickly thought back to the cowboy you met on Friday.

The elevator dinged and stirred you from your thoughts. Ginger guided you to a pair of mahogany doors.

“Well. This is where I leave you. Good luck Y/N.”

“Thank you.”

Taking a deep breath you knocked on the door and waited. A second later you heard some footsteps and you mentally prepared yourself for whoever was inside. The door swung open and your jaw dropped. You couldn’t help it.

Before you stood the same cowboy that had prevented your fall. Quickly you snapped your jaw shut. He was just as handsome as you remember, if not more handsome. He was still wearing his black stetson. Instead of the long camel coat he wore when he was in the park he was wearing a blazer with matching slacks. The blazer had a classic cowboy look but was still somehow modern. You flicked your eyes down to confirm your guess, he was wearing cowboy boots. He was wearing a pair of simple wire glasses and they looked good on him.

“Well isn’t this a coincidence?” said the man, “Come in, please.”

He stepped aside allowing you to enter the office.

For as modern as the building appeared, Mr. Daniels’ office felt lived in and warm. It was covered in mahogany and leather. An old globe sat on a shelf and other bits and bobs decorated the office, including what appeared to be a cow skull. You didn’t realize you were staring until Mr. Daniels’ honeyed voice made you blink.

“It’s real if that’s what you’re thinking.” he said.

You turned and realized he was much closer than you thought, practically close enough to touch you. You swallowed hard. He smelled good.

“Well let’s get started, shall we?” he said, stepping back and motioning to a chair that sat in front of his desk.

Wordlessly you moved to the chair and sat down. The whole act of confidence you had suddenly vanished. Mr. Daniels was slightly intimidating and holy hell was he attractive.

“Now Y/N — you don’t mind if I call you that?” Mr. Daniels asked.

“Y/N is fine yes.” you said, slightly unsure about the familiarity. Your previous job you were never addressed by your first name, it was always Ms. Y/L/N.

“Would you like something to drink?” he asked, swiveling in his chair to grab a bottle of whiskey and two glasses from behind him.

You smiled, appreciating the offer but politely declined.

“I’m actually not a whiskey drinker.” you said. Mr. Daniels laughed loudly as if he knew something you didn’t.

“I know it’s odd that I’m here interviewing for a whiskey company Mr. Daniels—

“Please, call me Jack.” he interrupted.

“…Jack,” you said slowly “but I promise I’ll be dedicated even if it’s not my drink of choice.”

Jack smiled and poured himself a glass of the amber liquid. Leaning back in his chair he studied you. Feeling his gaze on you, you gave him a small smile, trying to convince him that you really would work hard.

“Well Y/N,” he said after a second, “you got the job!”

Your brows furrowed. There was absolutely no way he was serious. He only asked if you wanted a drink, the company’s drink no less, and you said no. No interview questions, no asking for documents or recommendations. Nothing.

“I know you might be surprised but here at Statesmen we like to do things a little differently. And don’t worry about not liking whiskey. Who knows though, you may warm up to it.” he said, giving you a wink.

“This certainly was the easiest interview I’ve ever done.” you whispered under your breath. But according to the booming laugh that came out of the man sitting in front of you, your whisper wasn’t quiet enough.

“I assure you Y/N that you’ve already gone through an extensive interview process. The company has contacted past employers of yours and done copious amount of research and background checks into your resume. It may have been easy on your end, but not on ours.”

‘Certainly the weirdest interview I’ve ever done too.’ you thought.

“Well!” said Jack, clasping his hands together and standing up from his chair. “You start tomorrow. Let me give you a quick tour so you can settle in easy tomorrow.” In a flash he was around the desk and holding his hand out to you, a million dollar smile on his face.

Letting out a short breath you pushed away your anxiety and trepidation. If this was gonna be your new job you may as well start acting like your normal self. You grabbed his hand with assurance and stood up from your seat.

Neither one of you moved.

Standing there your eyes were glued to the sight of your hand being dwarfed by his. Slowly your eyes moved up to meet Jack’s. They were the most gorgeous shade of brown. Dark but still with a warmth and spark that drew you in. The glasses he wore framed them perfectly. Subconsciously you lightly bit your bottom lip. You blinked and the trance was broken. Slowly you removed your hand from his, but your palm was still tingling from the skin to skin contact.

“Thank you by the way.” you said breaking the silence.

Jack gave you that smile again and it felt like your internal organs had been turned to soup.

“Don’t worry about it darlin’. I’m quick on my feet and happened to see a beautiful young woman in need so I helped.”

You almost choked at the words he spoke.

“Let me show you to your space.” said Jack, his hand moving to lightly sit on the middle of your back.

In any other professional circumstance if someone did this to you you’d immediately call HR. In this instance however Jack’s gesture felt comforting and gentlemanly, not creepy and an intrusion of personal space. To summarize, you enjoyed his touch.

The two of you strode out the doors and walked a short distance down the hall to a door. Leading you inside Jack explained how this would be your personal office. You had never had a private space just for yourself in your workplace. You laughed softly.

“Something funny?” said Jack, looking down at you, hand still on your back.

“Never had my own space before. This place is almost bigger than my apartment.” You looked up at him with shining eyes. Jack swallowed thickly. Your big eyes were something else and certainly affecting him.

“Hah. Well I just hope you don’t move in here! Gotta have a separation between work and play.” said Jack, winking at you.

You could feel your face heating up at the comment as Jack led you out of the room and your heart was beating faster than it should’ve. Unbeknownst to you, so was Jack’s. He wasn’t expecting his new PA to be the gorgeous girl from the park. Admittedly he had thought about you a couple times since, beating himself up for not inviting you to coffee or something.

Outside of your new office stood Ginger.

“Ah sweet Ginger!” said Jack, removing his hand from your back. You silently mourned the loss of contact.

“This is my new peach of an assistant Y/N.”

“I know Jack.” said Ginger, rolling her eyes. “How do you think she found your office?”

“Always one step ahead Miss Ginger.” said Jack, flashing his smile again.

“Come with me Y/N and we’ll get you put in the system.”

“Pleasure meeting you darlin’ and I cannot wait til tomorrow.” said Jack, winking one last time before turning on his heel and sauntering back into his office.

“Is he always like that?”

“He’s always been a ladies man. You may be his assistant but make sure he knows who’s in charge. Keep him on a short leash.”

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

“So how was it?” Parker asked, taking a bite out of her pizza. She had come over to eat dinner with you and get all the juicy details about the job interview.

“Weird. I mean I got the job, but it was still weird.”

“First off yay! Secondly, what do you mean weird?”

“Well the building was way more high tech than I expected but the thing that was the weirdest was the interview itself. The only thing he asked me was if I wanted a glass of whiskey.”

“To which you said no.”

“Yeah…” you trailed off.

“I know that look Y/N. What’s on your mind?”

“Jack Daniels is the cowboy from the park.”

Thankfully Parker had swallowed her bite of pizza before hearing this, otherwise there’d be a chewed up wad of cheese on your floor.

“WHAT?”

“He was acting kind of flirty too.”

“So you did unbutton the shirt!” Parker said, a look of pride on her face.

“Parker that’s not the point. Afterwards when I was talking to the head of networking and media she explained that Jack is like this with every woman. The hat I need to show him who’s in charge, even if he is my boss.”

“That’s hot.” said Parker taking another bite.

“Shut up he’s my boss.” you said, pushing her shoulder. “I get what she’s saying though. I’ve dealt with guys like that before. Admittedly they were in their 20s and went to the same college as me and weren’t actually adults who I worked with.”

“How old does this guy look anyways?” Clearly Parker had a different agenda than you.

“Parker…” you gave her a glare.

“Okay okay message received.” she put up her hands in mock defense.

You looked down at your pizza slice and picked at the bit of cheese that had slid off of it.

“So how’re you gonna fend him off while still creating a good relationship?”

“Guess I gotta use that stubbornness you were talking about earlier.” you said giving her a small grin.

taglist: @absurdthirst @space-daddy-owns-me @agentwhiskeypussyindulgence

#agent whiskey #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey x you #jack daniels #jack daniels x you #jack daniels x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #not a whiskey drinker #NAWD

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kissinginkitchens · 3 years

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You Bring Me Home—Chapter Nine: Friday

a/n: happy friday lovies!! I am soooo excited for y’all to read this one bc it was my favvv chapter to write and I still get emo over it :’) also I think I should maybe let you all know that we only have two more chapters left in this series, and I can not thank you enough for all of the love and support you have shown it. It has been such a blast hearing your thoughts and sharing Halani with all of you lovely people, and I can’t believe the fun is almost over :( BUT we still have some time before we have to think about that soooo without further ado here is the next chapter, I hope you enjoy it :) Much love, Mel <3

Pairing: Hawai’i!Harry x Original Character (Halani <3)

Warnings: swearing, some suggestive humor

Word Count: 9.5k

catch up on parts one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, and eight

Monday

Harry takes a deep breath and raises his arms above his head, feeling every vertebrae stretch as he lies flat against the surfboard. The beaming sunlight warms him down to the bone and it threatens to lull him to sleep, but his attention is too occupied with the various sounds coming from each direction. Out of his right ear, he hears the waves lapping against the shore and the faint sound of children’s laughter. From his left, Mitch and Tom engage in a serious conversation about sharks. He lets one foot slide off the edge of the board and wade into the water below, all the while resisting the paranoia that he will be the next victim of Jaws thanks to his friends’ discussion.

“I’m gonna go switch out the camera.” Paul says beside him, already swimming back to the shore.

Harry gives a thumbs up in acknowledgement and lets the back of his hand rest against his forehead. He floats for a moment longer before swinging his other leg into the water and sitting up. His feet gently tread below the surface and he studies the area for any fish sightings, but his shoulders slump in disappointment when he doesn’t find any.

“I just think,” Mitch defends, legs crossed on his own surfboard. “That I would survive way longer than you,”

“It’s not a fuckin’ zombie apocalypse, survival rate depends on how severe the attack is,” Tom shoots back.

“Not if you’re smart,”

“Right, good thinking, mate. Just yell the Pythagorean theorem and swim away while the bloody thing tries to solve it,”

“You just don’t get it.”

“Stop bein’ a coward, then, and put your feet in the water.”

Harry shakes his head in amusement and continues scanning the scene for something else to occupy his attention. His eyes momentarily land on a couple in the distance, the pair facing each other on their shared surfboard and laughing. He smiles softly and glances back to the shore where his group has set up camp for the afternoon. Squinting, he tries to determine the time of day using the sun’s position overhead, but quickly gives up and swims back to the beach. The sand clings to his wet toes as he jogs over to his bag and digs inside for his phone. The time reads 2:37–Alani’s shift will be over soon.

She stifles another yawn and punches in her customer’s order, re-typing it when she realizes that it’s littered with errors. Her mind had been in a permanent fog since she woke up at 6:45 this morning. Harry had already slipped out by the time she reached over for him, but he left a note on his pillow this time.

GOOD MORNING SWEETS!

SORRY I HAD TO JET SO EARLY :( I’LL SEE YOU AFTER WORK.

H ☼

P.S. ALREADY MISSING YOUR LITTLE SNORES ♡

As if on cue, Alani’s phone vibrates in her back pocket and she slips it out to read the new text.

Harry: Meet me at Honoli’i after your shift?

She really wants to, but she’s also in desperate need of sleep.

Alani: Gonna take a power nap first, but I’ll be there

Harry: Can’t wait xx

********

In the distance, Harry hears The Cure blasting from a car in the parking lot. He hums along and picks at his bowl of fruit, saving the kiwis for Alani who once said they were her favorite. Jeff and Paul laugh about something between the two of them before the director catches Harry’s attention.

“How long you planning on staying here?” he asks.

Harry checks his phone again and the time reads 4:35. He wasn’t entirely sure how long Alani’s nap was supposed to last, but just as he’s about to answer, a text comes through.

Alani: Heading over. See you soon, sunshine💗

He smiles softly and shuts his phone off. “I actually have a surfing lesson at five. But I’ll meet you guys at the house after.”

Paul, the two Jeffs, Mitch, and Tom bid Harry farewell and decide to take a drive along the coast before heading to dinner. They mention the name of the restaurant they plan to go to, but Harry knows he’ll probably skip it and take Alani somewhere else. He sits back on his elbows, watching the palm trees sway in the breeze, when suddenly his vision goes dark when he feels hands over his eyes.

“Guess who,”

“The Queen of England?”

“Yes and I’m here to colonize your land and steal your jewels,” Alani jokes in a posh British accent. She leans over his head so they partake in an upside down kiss before settling into the sand beside him.

“You’ve already had my family jewels,” he teases with a suggestive wiggle of his brows.

Alani scoffs, rolling her eyes. “You are so insufferable sometimes, I swear to God,”

Harry lies back and rests his head in her lap with a shit-eating-grin plastered to his face. The damp locks along his hairline are curled and Alani twirls the pieces between her fingers.

“Saved y’some kiwis,” he informs her, nodding in the direction of his tote bag.

“Aw thanks, baby,”

“How was your day?”

Alani removes the lid and pops a slice of kiwi into her mouth. “Long, boring, tiring. A lot better now,”

“Feel the same way,”

“How’s your project going?” she questions, curious about his recent, mysterious whereabouts.

He shrugs. “S’fine, yeah,”

“What exactly is it, again?”

“It’s a,” Harry starts slowly. “Video thing… kind of,”

Alani narrows her eyes and lifts another piece of fruit to her lips. “Meaning?”

“It’s like—following uh.. the album ‘n stuff,”

“Ah the elusive album,” Alani nods. “Will I ever get to hear any of it?”

“Yeah,”

“When?”

“Dunno,” he blinks. “When’re you gonna let me read that article of yours?”

She smirks and taps her fork against her lower lip. “When it’s ready,”

“Then I’m withholding my thing ‘til it’s ready too,”

“That’s not fair,” she objects. “My article is contingent on your music,”

“One song,” Harry bargains, holding up his index finger. “In exchange for one paragraph. Seems fair to me,”

“Deal,”

He sits up suddenly and opens his mouth as an unspoken request for a kiwi. Alani tosses it in his direction and to her surprise, he catches it effortlessly.

“You really are a freak of nature,” she marvels. “What can’t you do?”

“Stay away from you, apparently,”

“Ditto,”

“D’you wanna head to the water for a bit?” Harry asks, his eyes landing on the board cast to the side.

Alani nods. “Sure thing,”

She strips down to the pink two piece underneath her clothes and accepts his outstretched hand. They shuffle through the sand, joint hands swinging, but Harry stops and scans her face when they reach the edge.

“What?” Alani asks, already dipping her toes in the water.

He runs his thumb over hers and starts hesitantly. “I know the water is kind of…”

“Oh,” she finishes when he trails off. “Yeah. I mean, for the most part I’m okay with it. Last time was just—I wasn’t expecting it,”

“I’m really sorry for that.” Harry apologizes with a somber look in his eye.

Alani reaches her free hand out to his cheek and offers a comforting smile. “No, it’s okay. I actually used to be pretty good at surfing,”

“Oh?”

“Haven’t really done it in years, though. I’m probably really rusty now,”

“Well maybe it’s time to get back on the horse,” Harry urges, pressing a gentle kiss to the inside of her palm before leading them further into the waves. Alani gets up on the board first and it's clear that she’s a natural despite the lack of practice. Her muscles fall into a mesmerizing rhythm as they repeat the very motions she had done thousands of times before her accident. Harry’s eyes carefully study the precision of her determined arms slicing through the water and the way her feet gracefully meet the board once she’s found a strong enough wave. She glides back to the beach and revels in the familiar feeling of the ocean breeze against her skin. Harry whistles from the distance as she reaches the shore, turning back to him with a wide grin and two thumbs up.

“Your turn,” she calls, paddling towards him on her stomach.

Harry replaces her on the board and winces. “Maybe I should’ve gone first,”

“You’re gonna do great,” Alani insists. “Tighten your core muscles. Oh! And bend your knees, not your back. Just trust your instincts and follow through,”

He follows her advice and to his surprise, does well, though not nearly as graceful as she had. Despite this, Alani cheers from the side as he glides back to the beach. Harry takes a bow once his feet have safely met the sand below.

“I knew you could do it,” she beams when he swims back to her.

“Couldn’t have done it without my amazing coach,” he shoots back, leaning down to press a salty kiss to her lips.

With Harry’s help, she swings her leg over the board and sits so that they face each other. Their legs paddle gently below the surface and his hand finds the top of her knee, giving it an affectionate squeeze.

“You were incredible out there,” he muses. “Can’t even tell that you’re out of practice,”

She wrings her hair out and fastens it into a low bun at the base of her neck. “Guess it’s like riding a bike—the muscle memory and all that,”

“You’re a great coach, you know. Cause I usually just wipe out,”

“That’s normal,” Alani nods. “You have to get used to falling. And wait for the right wave,”

Harry admires the way the afternoon sun sets her aglow, skin shimmering and golden under the rays. “How d’you know when it’s the right one?”

“You just feel it I guess. It’s like a gut instinct that you have to follow. And no second guessing yourself, either, cause that’s when you mess up,”

“What if you do go for it and you still wipe out?” He questions, something besides surfing in the back of his mind.

Alani sighs. “Then you wipe out,”

“You just have to trust?”

“You just have to trust,”

Harry hums as he considers this. Three burning syllables bounce around in his skull, but he suppresses them for the time being. Carefully, he lifts himself to his feet and motions for Alani to do the same. It takes them a second to find their balance on the board, but eventually they do and Harry brings her closer with a protective hand on the middle of her back.

“D’you trust me?” he murmurs.

Alani studies the different shades of green in his irises and feels a flutter deep in the pit of her belly, so she decides to take her own advice and presses a soft kiss to his warm lips before responding.

“Yes.”

Carefully, Harry takes a step back and twirls Alani before pulling her flush to his chest and swaying to the music stuck in his brain. As best they can, the pair dances on the surface of the board but Harry’s foot gets caught in a slick spot and he tumbles backwards, bringing Alani with him. When they emerge, his heart races in worry, but the knot in his chest eases when he hears her laughter.

“Y’okay?” he checks.

“Yeah,” she assures him, her legs snaking around his torso under the water. “I’m alright.”

The sky turns pink as they continue to wade peacefully in the water, and the entire time Harry finds himself fixated on the weight of the three little words nagging at the back of his brain.

********

Tuesday

“Say it again,”

“No,”

“Please?”

Harry shoots Alani an unamused look through the corner of his eye. “Dunno what’s so funny about it,”

“Just say it one more time,” she pleads with a mischievous glint in her eye.

“Tuesday,”

“Chews day,” Alani mimics and Harry rolls his eyes.

“You’re so clever,” he huffs. “Really, a true comedian,”

She giggles and leans over in her seat to press a kiss to his cheek. “It’s cute!”

“Yeah, whatever,”

“Okay, just one more—”

“Alani,” Harry chuckles, more endeared than irritated. “Don’t make me turn this car around,”

She pouts playfully and returns to watching the trees and passing cars. “At least I’m not asking you where we’re going,”

“You are so stubborn,” he shakes his head. “I told you we’re almost there,”

“I just don’t understand what it is with you and keeping secrets,”

“It’s about the mystery, darlin’, it’s romantic! Just trust me, okay? Have I ever steered you wrong?”

Alani nibbles at the skin on her lower lip and folds her arms. “No,”

“Okay, then,” Harry says finally. “Now change the song. I let you have fun with one Taylor, but it’s getting old,”

“Hater,” she grumbles, shuffling through the rest of her playlists before settling on Madonna.

Harry’s finger taps along to the beat against her thigh and his lips turn up when he hears Alani singing along. Her eyes are focused on the road ahead of them as she pretends to be in a music video of her own, creating hand gestures and choreography to accompany the lyrics. The chorus builds and she belts out the words as if her life depends on it.

“I’m crazy for you!” She performs, squishing Harry’s cheeks between her hands. “Touch me once and you’ll know it’s true. I never wanted anyone like this, it’s all brand new. You’ll feel it in my kiss,”

Alani presses a slobbery smooch to the side of his face and he groans, laughing when she continues melodramatically. The song goes on for another minute and Alani sings passionately out of tune, but it makes Harry’s heart swell. He briefly considers joining her, but decides to let her have her moment, too amused by the way she’s caught up in the emotion. When it’s finally over, she slumps down in her seat with a dazed look in her eye.

“Gotta love the 80s,”

“Maybe I should let you join the band,” Harry suggests.

“Really?

“No,”

Alani gasps in mock offense, her eyes wide. “Hey!”

“Yeah,” he smirks. “Doesn’t feel so good, does it?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she dismisses offhandedly. “I’m a sweetie,”

“A sweet pain in my arse,”

“Arse? Did you really just say arse?”

“I take it back, you’re just a regular pain.”

The two of them drive for another forty-five minutes taking playful jabs at each other and watching the lush greenery whizz by. Harry had been characteristically cryptic in his instructions the night before, an idea suddenly popping into his mind when Alani reminded him of her day off. He had told her to wear something comfortable and practical, nothing that could flow easily in the wind. Furthermore, he revealed that he would pick her up at exactly 7:00 a.m. which made her eyebrows shoot up.

“Seven?”

“It’ll be worth it, promise,”

“Can we at least get McDonald’s hash browns for the road?” Alani had bargained.

Harry chuckled to himself, too excited to deny her. “Sure thing, sweets.”

Welcome to Waikōloa Beach, the sign read and Alani wondered what could possibly have possessed Harry to drag her out of bed and across the island at the crack of dawn. Her question was quickly answered when they turned onto Keana Place where a lot full of helicopters were lined up and waiting.

“‘Big Island Tours’,” she reads aloud. “Wait a minute, we’re not—”

“Surprise!” Harry beams, reaching behind her seat for a bag.

Alani scoffs, her mind still trying to process. “Are you trying to kill me?”

“Come on,” he pleads. “Been dying to do it since I got here,”

“So bring Mitch! Or Jeff, or Tom or literally anyone else,”

Harry gives her a pout and bats his lashes. “But I’d rather be with you. Please?”

“Harry,” she sighs, taking another glance at the helicopters before her. They did seem secure enough, enclosed on all sides, and he had driven an hour and a half just to surprise her with something fun and totally outside of her comfort zone.

“Trust me?” he asks after a minute, kissing her knuckles gently.

Alani takes a deep breath and nods. “Fine.”

They exit the SUV and Harry takes her hand, slinging his bag over his shoulder. There’s a short, stocky man with dark sunglasses standing in front of one of the helicopters with a clipboard. He checks his watch when he sees the two of them approaching and reaches out a hand.

“Mr. Styles?”

“Harry,”

“Nice to meet you Harry, I’m Matt,” the pilot says with a firm handshake. “Is this your guest?”

“Alani,” she greets. “Is this…”

“It’s very safe,” Matt assures her with a warm smile.

Harry squeezes her hand gently and looks over their mode of transportation. “How long’ve you been doin’ this?”

“Almost ten years,” the pilot explains. “I was a commercial pilot for twenty-five and then started this when I retired,”

“I’m sure you’ve had your fair share of nervous fliers, then,” Alani speaks up, attempting humor to mask her jitters.

Matt nods with a knowing smile. “Oh yeah. Plenty of anxious girlfriends who kick their boyfriends for dragging them into it, but they always enjoy themselves in the end,”

Alani’s cheeks warm at his assumption of their relationship status, but neither her nor Harry address it. Instead, Harry clears his throat and asks his next question.

“So when can we go up?”

“Whenever you’re ready,” Matt offers.

Once the three of them have settled into the aircraft, he hands Harry and Alani each a headset and goes over the basic safety rules. Her heart races and stomach turns, but she takes a deep breath and wills herself to give it a chance. Beside her, Harry is enthusiastically chatting up Matt and being his usual charming self; his confidence is reassuring and she finds herself sinking deeper into his side for comfort. He drapes an arm over her shoulders protectively, sensing her nerves, and presses a firm kiss to her temple. After a few minutes of discussion with the air base over the radio, Matt gives them a thumbs up and signals that they’re ready to go. Another deep breath and they’re off, the ground growing smaller and smaller below. They skim over Waikōloa Village and head west to Waiulua Bay where the water is so clear and blue, Harry has a hard time believing it’s real. Alani peers down at the tiny people all along the coast and in the water and her throat goes dry. She feels Harry nudge her shoulder lightly and looks over to where his finger is pointed.

“Down there you can swim with dolphins,” he says. “Looked it up last night,”

“And we’re not doing that because...?”

Harry flashes a dimpled grin and laughs softly to himself. “How are you not enjoying this?”

“I am,” Alani insists, which is steadily becoming true. She watches in amazement as they hover over the expanse of the lush, green landscape along the coast.

Over the headset, Matt points out some key landmarks and answers more of Harry’s questions. They pass over an active volcano and Alani momentarily feels a rush of terror, but her curiosity takes over as she snaps a photo of the molten lava below. She captures another one of Harry looking out his window before flipping the camera to selfie mode and making a peace sign. He turns to tell her something, but flashes a cheesy grin and presses a kiss to her cheek when he notices the camera. Alani writes a mental note to make it her lock screen later.

After half an hour in the air, Matt points to the cliff on their right hand side and says they’ll be landing there for a bit as part of the tour. A 200 foot waterfall feeds into a small pool and he lands them on a ledge across the way. The three of them exit the helicopter, but Matt says that he needs to check in with the base and lets them explore the site alone for a few minutes.

“This is incredible,” Alani marvels, looking over the edge.

“Knew you’d like it,”

She turns to him and snakes her arms around his shoulders, leaving a small peck to his lips. “Thank you,”

While she had been almost one-hundred percent sure that she would never enjoy a helicopter ride, Alani is glad that she was wrong. She is even more grateful that Harry had encouraged, but hadn’t pushed, her to try it. If Alani had been absolutely against the idea, she knows that he wouldn’t have pressed it any further and would have taken her to do something more her speed, hence the dolphin back up plan. It sometimes felt like they were from entirely different worlds, Harry being more sure of himself and adventurous while Alani was careful and preferred to have things planned. But he made her feel brave and spontaneous without pressuring her to change anything about herself. Harry had seen something special in her and wanted the whole world to see it, too. So he encouraged her to break out of her comfort zone and let her true self shine, but only at her own discretion. Over the course of the past few weeks, Alani had noticed herself opening up to new experiences and loving every minute of it, but this transformative feeling was far from one sided; because of their relationship, Harry learned the value of trusting his own instincts. For so much of his life, he felt like a member of an overcrowded democracy allowing himself to go with the majority rule even if it didn’t particularly please him. From their earliest moments spent together, Harry was inspired by Alani’s determination and self-confidence. He had always cared deeply about other people’s opinion of him and felt that it was his greatest weakness, but she seemed so unapologetically herself at all times. And though Harry sometimes worried that he was simply playing a part for the rest of the world, he never had to question who he was with Alani. She understood him, she grounded him, and amidst all of the unfamiliarity in his new life, she felt familiar and safe.

“You deserve it,” Harry says gently. “To see beautiful things.”

Alani presses their foreheads together and studies his emerald eyes like they’re the rarest gems she’s ever seen. “Well I’m looking at the best damn view right now,”

“Although, I wish you would’ve told me we were going to Jurassic Park, I would’ve prepared my Laura Dern outfit.”

Harry laughs softly and slots his lips between hers, those three, pesky little words nagging at him again. Not yet, he thinks, but almost there.

********

Wednesday

Alani takes an extended lunch and heads over to the recording studio with food for Harry and his friends. He had warned her beforehand that there would be filming, so they agreed to pretend, just for the afternoon, that she was his assistant. However, their true relationship was as much of a mystery to the both of them as it was to everyone else. Alani had considered, on many occasions, asking him to officially be her boyfriend. She didn’t know how else to refer to him when her mom had started inquiring about the Range Rover mysteriously parked across the street every morning. Each time Alani had gotten up the nerve to ask, however, she secretly worried that it was too soon, or worse, that he would say no. Much to her oblivion Harry had also wrestled with this question, and many others, but also feared her response. What they shared was undeniably strong and completely foreign, so they had independently decided not to put too much weight on the situation in fear of bursting the bubble too soon. Neither of them were prepared to deal with the fallout if it all came crumbling down.

“Lunch is here!” Jeff calls from the doorway as he escorts Alani inside.

He motions her over to the table in one corner of the room and helps her lay out the food, thanking her warmly when she declines payment.

“It’s on the house,” she reassures him.

The crew all take turns grabbing their lunch, Mitch ruffling Alani’s hair in a display of gratitude while he swipes his burger, and settle into various chairs and comfortable spots around the studio. Harry is the last one to claim his food and he lingers around the table as he does so.

“Thank you, Ms. Hale,” he offers politely, itching to give her an appreciative kiss.

She nods and returns the professionalism. “You’re very welcome, Mr. Styles,”

“How’s the weather?”

By now, Alani has come to recognize this as his go-to inquiry when he’s really asking for her attention or affection.

“Full of sunshine,”

“Glad to hear it.” he smiles softly. The casual slip of his nickname isn’t lost on him.

“Hey Harry,” the director calls. “Show Jason that Bob Dylan thing you were doing—watch, you’ll love this.”

Harry musters up a pleasant smile and quickly glances at Alani, wanting nothing more than to escape with her for the precious few moments she has left to spare.

“Occupational hazard.” she shrugs as her cue of permission. His fond look turns apologetic before he saunters over to the rest of the group.

Alani watches, amused, as he lifts a guitar and starts strumming a tune that she hadn’t heard before with a Dylan-esque lilt in his voice. The crew all laugh and encourage his impression, but she still wonders what the song is and reminds herself to ask later. After a few moments with the rest of the group, Harry’s eyes wander to Alani munching on a french fry and scrolling on her phone. Jeff notices this too and decides to help his friend out.

“Hey Alani,” he calls. “Come sit with us,”

She looks over to Harry and he grins eagerly, making room on the couch between him and Mitch.

“Alani makes the best smoothies in the world.” Jeff comments to the film crew.

“It’s true,” Mitch adds. “Harry loves ‘em.”

A subtle glare radiates from the singer, but Mitch simply winks in response.

“Well, you guys are my favorite customers,” Alani offers. “But don’t tell the others,”

The whole team makes Alani feel welcome and she’s endlessly thankful for it, making an effort to engage every crew member in some sort of small talk as evidence of her gratitude. Harry enjoys her presence among his friends and how easily she fits in. It serves as further proof of what his gut already knew: she was a missing puzzle piece in the image of his ideal life slowly coming together before his eyes. Alani checks the time an hour later and starts bidding farewell to the group, much to their disappointment. As she slips out the door and over to the Bronco, a familiar accented voice calls from behind. Before she has time to respond, a pair of warm lips meet hers and she hums.

“They’re all goin’ out for dinner at 5,” Harry explains gently. “Come back to the studio then, I have somethin’ I wanna show you.”

********

It’s 5:10 when Alani makes her way back to Napua. Harry had texted her beforehand to say that the door would be open, so she lets herself in and scans the quiet room. She hears the soft keys of a piano, but the room is dim and she has to get closer to see that it’s Harry seated there. Candles are perched around the room and Alani watches her step, reaching a hand to Harry’s shoulder when she reaches him. He stops playing and flashes a soft smile, inviting her to join him on the bench.

“Digging the ambience,” Alani remarks lightly, not entirely reading his mood.

He shrugs. “Just felt right,”

Harry’s fingers return to the keys and he starts with a somber chord that makes Alani’s breath hitch. His vocals are raw and gritty, but stronger than she had ever heard him sing and it nearly moves her to tears. She hangs on every word and burns them into her mind for safe keeping, though she doubts that she could ever forget this moment even if she tried. Harry picks up into the chorus and leaves nothing behind, diving straight into the wave without fear of wiping out. Alani tries, but she can’t contain the tears that spill over her cheek. It’s as if every ounce of apprehension and anxiety, every doubt and moment of insecurity is cleansed from her soul right in this very moment. When the song comes to an end, she immediately wishes to relive it and tries to find the right words in response.

“That was incredible,” Alani clears her throat. “What’s it called?”

“Sign of the Times,” he responds. “Not really sure about it,”

She furrows her brows in confusion, but quickly realizes that he’s being honest and not fishing for compliments.

“Why?”

“It’s… different,”

“Than?”

He thinks for a moment and chooses his next words carefully. “Anything I‘ve ever done before,”

“And why’s that bad?” Alani questions with a comforting hand weaving its way into his hair.

“Dunno,” Harry sighs, leaning into her touch. “I just don’t wanna get it wrong,”

At this moment, “it” isn’t just the song. Everything about his new solo career, and his life in general, is a toss up, and one that he isn’t sure will land in his favor. Alani has no doubts, though, not when it comes to her faith in Harry’s abilities.

“Are you happy?” she asks.

He looks over to her and thinks that he couldn’t possibly be more content. “Yeah,”

“Then you’re already succeeding. If you’re happy with what you’re doing, then no one can tell you that you’re not successful,”

Harry feels his own wave of emotions pooling at the bottom of his lash line and he’s grateful that the low lighting conceals it. He closes the gap between their lips, palm secure against the side of Alani’s face as he keeps her close.

“There’s somethin’ else I wanted to talk to you about,” Harry says gently and Alani feels her heartbeat pick up.

“Okay,”

He isn’t sure how to approach the subject, despite the fact that it’s been the only thing on his mind for days, so he decides to trust his gut and speak from the heart.

“These past few weeks with you,” he starts slowly. “Have been the best of my entire life. When I’m with you, it’s like nothing else in the entire world matters, and nothing bad could ever happen to me because there’s you,”

Another tear rolls down Alani’s face and Harry wipes it away with the pad of his thumb.

“All I asked for was a chance,” he continues. “And it feels like you’ve given me the entire world. Do you remember the day when we saw that rainbow?”

“Yes,” Alani nods, voice small.

“You told me to wish for something, and I did. I wished for a home. I didn’t know why, but that word wouldn’t leave me alone after you said it. But I think I understand it now, because I’m in a place I’ve never been before, physically and in my life generally, but you make it feel like home. You bring me home,”

Alani feels as if all of the air inside her lungs has been sucked out, and her grip on Harry’s wrist tightens because she worries that if he lets go, she’ll float away like a helium balloon.

“I know I’m not perfect,” Harry continues, voice wavering. “But this thing we have feels like it could set the world on fire, and I’d gladly walk in the flames for you. So would you please say you’ll be mine and let me prove it?”

“Yes,” Alani breathes, tears of relief and joy still streaming down her face. “But I need a moment to compose an appropriate girlfriend acceptance speech,”

Harry grins and presses their lips together as if she’s the only source of air.

“Seriously,” Alani chuckles when they pull apart. “Cause how the fuck could I top that?”

“Y’don’t need to. Saying yes was all I needed,”

She unclasps her fingers from his, draping her arms around his shoulders instead, and takes a deep breath. “You’re everything, you know that? You’re the sun and the whole universe revolves around you.”

“And you’re the most heavenly moon,” Harry responds thinking back to the meaning of her name. “Mahealani.”

********

Thursday

When Alani’s father had asked for her help setting up a wedding that was taking place at the resort this weekend, she jumped at the chance. It wasn’t often that she got to be involved in the events at Honu, but she adored the luxurious five star hotel and all of its amenities. She had helped her dad cater numerous events over the years and weddings were her absolute favorite, especially because of the beautiful gowns and all of the blissfully happy couples. It felt like a privilege to glimpse into the most special moments in the lives of strangers she would probably never see again. Alani had been tasked with meeting the bride and collecting any last minute meal cards or notes of dietary restrictions from guests. The wedding was to take place the following night, but all the food prep would begin that afternoon in order to adequately prepare.

“I think that’s all. There were just a few last minute adjustments,” the bride, Mila, says pulling out an envelope from her bag.

“No offense,” Alani starts. “But shouldn’t you be resting? I mean isn’t the maid of honor supposed to do all this? Or a wedding planner?”

Mila sighs, an embarrassed smile spreading across her rosy lips. “I know, I’m just a bit of a control freak. I like things done a certain way,”

“Totally understandable,”

“Like the music thing,” Mila rolls her eyes. “It was my fiancé’s idea. He said that DJs were boring and wanted to let the guests choose their own songs, instead. So that was my compromise. I’m trying,”

Alani offers a chuckle and shuffles the last of the cards into her stack. “Sounds like you’re already mastering this whole marriage thing,”

“Are you married?” the bride asks, curiously.

“Oh, no I’m not,”

“Got a boyfriend?”

Alani’s cheeks warm and her lips curl. “Yes,”

“Knew it,” Mila comments with a knowing smirk. “You’re too pretty to be single. And you’ve got the look,”

“What look?” Alani questions.

Mila flutters her lashes and sighs. “The ‘I’m in love and I don’t care who knows it’ look. Like a Disney princess,”

Alani laughs shyly and focuses her attention back to the envelopes in front of her.

“What’s his name?” the bride pries.

“Harry,”

“That’s a good one,” Mila considers tapping her lower lip. “Like the Prince of England. Maybe you will be a princess, after all,”

Alani is amused by the irony of her statement, but she chooses not to disclose the fact that her boyfriend actually is British, albeit, not a Royal. Instead, she chooses to deflect the attention back onto the bride.

“And what’s your lucky guy’s name?”

“Chad,”

“Like the country,”

“Yeah,” Mila giggles. “Like the country,”

“And what’s he like?”

Mila rests her chin in her hand and a dreamy look settles into her hazel eyes. “Funny. He wanted to be a comedian, but he became a lawyer, instead. That’s how we met— law school,”

“What kind of law do you practice?”

“Ironic enough,” Mila chuckles. “Family and divorce law. I never thought I’d get married, I mean I literally hear about people falling out of love every day. But the thing about love is that it’s effort, and a lot of people aren’t willing to put in the work. It doesn’t feel like work when it’s the right person, though. Just feels like ‘how can I be the best possible partner to this human that I love so much?’”

Alani considers this, her mind immediately wandering to Harry and all of his thoughtful gestures. “Makes sense,”

“Chad is a patent lawyer,” Mila continues. “He’s the more creative, outgoing one, I guess. He makes things light when it gets too heavy, you know? It’s good to have someone like that,”

“Yeah, definitely,”

“What’s your guy like? What does he do?” Mila asks with a flirty grin.

“He’s, uh,” Alani thinks for a second trying to be as vague as possible. “A musician,”

Mila gives an approving nod. “Dreamy. Bet he writes lots of songs about you,”

“Maybe,”

“Don’t be shy,” Mila urges. “Come on, it’s just us girls. Spill,”

Alani thinks for a moment and imagines that the same dream cloud must be present over her own features.

“Well he’s kind, thoughtful, romantic, and wise. Really funny, too. I don’t know he just—he makes me wanna be a better person, really,”

“Wow,” the bride marvels. “Sounds like a hell of a guy,”

“He is,”

Mila leans in conspiratorially and Alani does the same. “Speaking as an expert, I think it’s gonna last forever,”

“You think?” Alani asks.

“Oh yeah,” Mila assures her. “When you’re so used to studying fake love, you get really good at recognizing the real deal,”

Alani offers her an appreciative smile and nods. “Thank you,”

Mila’s eyes light up suddenly and she grabs Alani by both hands. “Hey you should bring him! Yeah, you two should come, I insist,”

“Oh, I—”

“Please, say you will! Maybe he can throw in some good music recommendations to offset the terrible ones,”

Alani chuckles and she knows immediately that Harry would leap at the chance to do so. “Okay, sure.”

“Yay!” Mila cheers, reaching into her planner and jotting a note down. “Harry and Alani at the lovebird’s table.”

********

“Hey, sweets,” Harry beams, pulling up to the front of the hotel in the Cadillac. “Waiting on your boyfriend or are you just in the habit of standing on sidewalks lookin’ cute?”

“The former,” Alani responds coyly. “He’ll be here any minute,”

“And he’s got a pretty girl like you waiting outside like this? You should dump him,”

She shrugs and turns on her heel for a stroll while Harry gently eases off the breaks to follow. “I don’t know, I’m kinda fond of him,”

“S’that so?” he continues with a smirk.

“Yup,” she sighs. “He’s kind of a dork, but I like that about him,”

“Heyyy—”

“And he’s a good kisser. The best at cuddling, too,”

“Sounds like a catch,”

“He is. You two should meet sometime,”

The car comes to a halt and Alani slips inside, scooting all the way down the bench seat next to Harry.

“Funny, you should be a comedian,” he quips.

Alani’s brow furrows and she shoots him a doe-eyed look. “What’s the joke?”

Harry laughs dryly, ignoring the pang of irrational jealousy that strikes him in the chest. “You’re a little too good at this bit, it’s starting to feel like we're not talkin’ about me anymore,”

“Oh, were we supposed to be talking about you?”

His head whips over to Alani who clutches her stomach with laughter. “I’m kidding, baby, of course I’m talking about you,”

“No, who is he?” Harry demands playfully with a deep furrow between his brows. “Tell me, I’ll hurt him,”

Alani slots their lips together and his pout eases into a grin.

“Hey what are you doing tomorrow night?” she asks, feeling the ocean breeze through her hair.

Harry flashes a dimple in her direction. “Anything you want, s’long as we’re together,”

“Will you be my plus one?”

“To?”

“A wedding,” Alani explains. “The one my dad’s catering at Honu,”

His eyebrows raise and he smiles wide. “Are we crashing it?”

“No,” she laughs. “We were invited. I was hanging out with the bride today and she added us to the list,”

“‘Kay, but I’m still gonna pretend we crashed it,”

Alani drapes her arms around his shoulders and leans her head against his. “Where are we going?”

“Damn, I thought I had you distracted,”

“Boyfriend rule #1: You have to tell me where we’re going always,”

Harry narrows his eyes. “That’s not a real rule because surprises are romantic,”

“Too bad,” Alani shrugs.

“But don’t you enjoy my surprises?”

“Usually,”

“Then I’m adding a new rule,” Harry bargains. “The girlfriend can not ask the boyfriend to disclose the location of a date if they’re already in the car,”

“That’s not fair, I was already in the car when the rule was made!”

“Too bad.”

Alani pinches his cheek and slinks back into her own seat. She tells him about the bride and the groom, what she knows, at least, and about the decision to have their guests RSVP with a song of their choice to play at the reception.

“D’you know what you’re gonna pick?” Harry asks.

“Yeah,” Alani nods. “I Wanna Dance with Somebody by Whitney Houston, obviously,”

“Obviously,” he agrees.

“You?”

“Dunno, yet. Have to narrow it down,”

Alani admires the heart-shaped glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. “Well you better make it good, cause Mila knows that you’re a musician and she’s expecting you to balance out her friends’ shitty music taste,”

“You were talkin’ about me?” he teases.

“Well, yeah, how else do you think you got invited?”

“You have such a crush on me, s’cute,”

Alani playfully pokes his cheek. “We’re literally dating, dummy,”

“Don’t get defensive,” Harry jokes. “Cause I’ve got a crush on you too.”

“God, we’re so annoying.”

Harry grins and presses a kiss to her temple. They pull into the Port of Hilo and he magically produces a picnic basket from the backseat, a bottle of Moët et Chandon rosé peeking out. Alani slips her fingers between his and follows as he leads them to a sizable speed boat anchored and waiting for them.

“The Carolina,” Alani reads, admiring the golden cursive on the side.

“Like someone else I know,” Harry winks.

He escorts her onto the vessel and she waits to see when the captain will join them, but confusion washes over her when she sees Harry poking around with the equipment.

“What are you doing?”

“As much fun as it would be to eat at the dock,” he begins. “I think it would be more fun to take ole Carolina for a spin,”

“You mean you’re gonna drive this thing?” Alani questions, though she doesn’t know why she’s surprised by him anymore.

“Pilot,” Harry corrects. “But yes,”

Alani blinks and tries to wrap her head around the idea of Harry piloting a boat. “And you’re allowed to do that?”

“Sure.”

“Wow,” she marvels to herself with an incredulous laugh. “I’m dating a sailor.”

Harry flashes Alani a wink over his shoulder and before she knows it, they’re heading away from the dock. She carefully stands from the lounging area at the back and sneaks over to Harry, arms wrapping around his torso with her chin propped on his shoulder. He steers with one hand and extends the other, recreating the iconic Titanic boat scene.

“I’m flying, Jack!” he calls over his shoulder and Alani giggles, responding with her best improvised rendition of My Heart Will Go On.

They sail out for a bit longer before Harry stops the boat and turns to her. “Ta da!”

“By jove, he’s done it!” Alani praises.

Harry takes a bow and reaches over for the picnic basket, pulling out the rosé and two champagne flutes. He hands them to Alani and spreads their meal on the lounging area at the back: vegetable stir fry and noodles with chocolate covered strawberries for desert.

“You did all this?” Alani muses.

He takes each flute from her hand and fills them halfway. “It’s a special occasion,”

“I feel like an asshole for not knowing what it is,”

“Don’t,” Harry chuckles, handing her the wine. “I mean it’s not really like—I just realized it,”

“What is it?”

Harry raises his glass and clears his throat. “Exactly three months ago, I got off a plane and I stumbled into a little café where the most beautiful and funny and smart waitress served me about twenty glasses of water until I nearly pissed my pants in front of her,”

Alani giggles at the memory, disbelief settling in when she considers how fast the time had flown.

“And despite all of the embarrassing and idiotic things I’ve done since,” he continues. “She agreed to be my girlfriend, for reasons I have yet to understand. So today I celebrate her, and us, and all of lucky stars that brought our paths together,”

They clink their glasses together and Alani presses a cool kiss to his lips. “Cheers, baby,”

“There’s one more thing,” Harry says, holding a finger up.

Alani scoffs. “It’s like fucking Pandora’s box in there!”

He pulls out a velvet box and her heart stops.

“Wait, what are you—”

“It’s not what you think,” he explains quickly. “Sorry, maybe should’ve thought this through better,”

Harry opens the lid and lifts a gold chain with a crescent moon pendant and a smaller sun in the center.

“Saw it in a shop this morning,” he says softly. “Seemed like fate, so I got it,”

“Harry,” Alani breathes, eyes already glossy.

“D’you like it?”

“I love it! It’s beautiful,” she says, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips. “Thank you so much.”

He fastens the necklace for her and she admires it with gentle fingers. The sun and the moon, a piece of them cast in gold and resting against her beating heart forever.

********

Friday

“Wow,” Harry gawks, his eyes raking in Alani’s appearance. A baby pink tulle dress falls just above her knee with puffy sleeves and a sweetheart neckline, all cinched at the waist with a small bow. Tiny velvet hearts are speckled all over the dress, in true Alani fashion, and a pair of sparkling, pink heels accentuate her toned calves.

“Wow yourself,” she counters, drinking in the peek of exposed skin behind his cream colored blazer. The blue dress shirt underneath is unbuttoned just above the butterfly on his stomach and a cross is nestled in the valley between his pecs. He holds out a bouquet of sunflowers between his ringed fingers and Alani accepts them gratefully, moving to the side so he can step into the house.

“These are gorgeous, thank you,” she says, lifting them to her nose.

“Welcome,” he smiles softly, swiping the pad of his thumb against her chin. “You are gorgeous,”

Alani presses her rose tinted lips to his carefully and pulls back to admire him again. “And you are so good looking it actually makes me mad.”

Harry laughs and pulls her closer for another sweet kiss before he hears the clearing of another person’s throat.

“Have her back by midnight,” Pua teases with her arms crossed. “Or I’ll hunt you down.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Harry salutes before bending down to address Freddie.

Alani passes the sunflowers to her sister with a kiss to her cheek before hooking an arm under Harry’s and heading out. They hop into the convertible and the sun catches the golden pendant around her neck, bringing a soft smile to his face.

“Hope those are your dancin’ shoes,” Harry remarks. “Cause we’re goin’ full Dirty Dancing tonight,”

“Lift and all?”

“Lift and all,”

She runs her fingers over the silver rose on his ring finger. “You know, I think we’re finally gonna nail it this time.”

“Oh yeah,” Harry agrees. “They won’t know what hit ‘em.”

When they arrive at Honu, the other guests are shuffling from the parking lot and onto the private beach where the reception will take place. Alani plucks a card from her bag to drop into the box at the entrance while Harry pulls a medium sized box from behind his seat.

“You got a real gift?” Alani questions, a light laugh erupting. “We don’t even know these people,”

Harry tucks the gift under his arm and shrugs. “I put your name on it too, don’t worry,”

“Well now they’ll have a giftcard to Ikea and whatever’s in your mystery box.”

“It’s also a giftcard to Ikea, but wrapped in a big box.”

Alani nudges his shoulder playfully and scans the groups mingling and flocking to the mini bar. She waves to a member of her dad’s kitchen staff attending to the hors d’oeuvres before they are greeted by the manager of the guest list.

“Alani and Harry,” she says to the tall woman behind the podium.

“Ah yes,” the woman responds. “The Lovebirds table, number 9.”

“Guess Mila wasn’t joking about that.” Alani chuckles lightly, taking both of their name cards.

Harry locates their table and to his surprise, no one else is present yet, but he pulls Alani’s chair out for her and pushes it back in once she’s seated.

“Champagne?” he asks, nodding to the bar.

“Oui, s'il vous plaît."

He plants a kiss to the top of her head and makes his way to collect their drinks. Alani’s eyes follow the stringed lights overhead and she quickly realizes that they lead to a disco ball hanging above the center of the dance floor. Well done, Mila. She thinks to herself with an approving nod. The colors, she gathers, are lilac and periwinkle, incorporated into all of the floral arrangements and cloth details. They match the color of the sky above and Alani knows that the bride must be ecstatic over this detail. Harry returns with their drinks and sets them down gently onto the white tablecloth.

“None of our fellow lovebirds have arrived yet, huh?” he muses, taking a sip of his champagne.

Alani shakes her head and brings the glass to her lips. “Must be too busy making out in the parking lot,”

“You told me we didn’t have time for that.”

“I’m not gonna ruin my lipstick before we’ve even arrived.”

Harry shakes his fist to the sky and Alani giggles. They both admire the view and the children in the wedding party who are testing how close they can get to the water before an adult drags them away. The sky turns to a shade of cotton candy above them and someone announces that the bride and groom are arriving. Harry and Alani stand and welcome the newly weds with applause and whistles. Mila and Chad share a sweet kiss and the crowd goes wild. One man, most likely a friend of the groom, shouts “I love you Chad!” and laughter erupts. They take their seats and the rest of the wedding party follows suit, which means that the rest of the guests are free to return to their chatting and socializing.

“I’m beginning to think we were put in the time out table.” Harry jokes when they are still not joined by any other guests.

A light laugh escapes Alani’s lips and she looks around. “Yeah I guess so.”

The servers arrive with their meal and the pair eat happily, exchanging witty banter and observations of the scene around them. Harry sucks a piece of linguine between his lips and turns to Alani with a mischievous smirk.

“No,” Alani says, already knowing what he’s up to.

“Don’t leave me hangin’,”

“Eat your food.”

“Alaniii,”

She shakes her head gently and rolls her eyes, but decides to indulge him anyway. Their lips meet in the middle of the shared noodle and Harry smiles.

“Always wanted to try that.”

A few moments later, he notices a card in the middle of the table and lifts it.

“‘Trivia,’” he reads. “‘Test your knowledge of the bride and groom and win a prize.’ Let’s play, shall we?”

“What’s the first question?” Alani asks, peering over to read the small font.

“‘What year did Mila and Chad meet?”

Alani hums, thinking back to her previous conversation with the bride. “They met in law school, that’s all I know,”

“2009,” Harry guesses. “Who said ‘I love you’ first?”

“Definitely Chad,” she replies firmly. “Mila didn’t think she’d ever get married,”

“I thought you said you didn’t know these people,”

“I guess I was wrong,”

Harry squints at the next one. “What are their zodiac signs?”

“I wanna say Virgo for Mila,” Alani suggests. “Maybe… Aquarius for Chad?”

“That’s my sign,” Harry comments, writing down her guesses.

Alani’s brows raise. “No kidding. Makes a lot of sense,”

“What’s yours?”

“Taurus,”

“I don’t know anythin’ about astrology. Are we compatible?”

“Probably not,” Alani teases.

Harry shoots her a disapproving look and reads the next question. “Where did they go on their first date?”

“The movies,” she predicts. “Safe bet,”

“‘Akaka Falls,” Harry writes. “That was ours,”

Alani’s head tilts. “We weren’t even dating then,”

“Yeah but I was tryin’ to win you over, so it counts,”

“Sneaky.”

“Who is the bride’s celebrity crush?” Harry continues. “Hopefully not James Marsden or this guy’s fucked.”

Alani laughs and she pulls him in for a playful kiss to his cheek. The pink sunset dims into a deep navy and the stringed lights twinkle above, setting the whole scene in a romantic, golden glow. Guests walk past their table holding strips of photo booth pictures and Harry’s neck cranes to search for the source. His eyes land on a small line at the other end of the beach and he stands quickly.

“Let’s go,”

“Where?”

“Photo booth!”

To Alani’s surprise it’s an actual booth, curtains and all, and not just some poor sucker tasked with operating a polaroid camera the whole night. They stand in line eagerly behind two groomsmen and brainstorm poses. Once they’re inside, Alani settles onto Harry’s knee and watches as he operates the machine. The screen counts down from ten and they decide to flash a proper smile for the first one. After it’s snapped, Harry sticks his tongue out and Alani widens her eyes in mock surprise. The third one is a candid, slightly blurry one of them laughing after she accidentally poked him in the eye. A lipstick kiss is stamped to Harry’s cheek in the fourth one, but the pair innocently look away in opposite directions. The fifth and final image captures their affection mid kiss. They swipe the two sets of photos and Alani awes, admiring the black and white film strip. Before they make it back to their table, Alani feels a hand on her arm.

“Alani!” Mila beams.

“Hi!” Alani greets, pulling the bride into a hug. “You look gorgeous,”

“I’m so glad you came! I love your dress,”

Mila turns her attention towards Harry and gives him a warm embrace, too. “You must be Harry! So nice to meet you,”

“Thank you for having us!” he says over the music.

“I see you guys put the photo booth to good use,” Mila comments. “Now go dance! There’s an ipad next to the stage, just queue up your songs.”

Alani and Harry bid the bride farewell, but before they leave, Mila leans into Alani’s ear and whispers “he’s a hottie!” with a wink. They set their photos down inside Alani’s purse and Harry leads her towards the dance floor. She punches in her request and he secretly types the song that’s been stuck in his head all week. Fantasy by Mariah Carey is already playing when they reach the floor, so they join in excitedly. Alani’s hips sway and Harry’s head bobs, both of them mouthing the lyrics. The song fades and Alani’s pick begins, which makes the crowd roar.

“The people have spoken and they love Whitney!” she cheers.

Harry twirls her and shuffles his feet. Alani shimmies and sings along, the lyrics falling from her lips like a prayer.

I wanna dance with somebody

I wanna feel the heat with somebody

Yeah, I wanna dance with somebody

With somebody who loves me

The dance floor is flooded with bodies jumping and swaying, and the disco ball shimmers above the euphoric scene. Alani and Harry spin, making their way through the crowd and letting the music sweep over them like a magical spell. Beads of sweat form at the back of her neck and she lifts her wavy locks to let the ocean breeze cool her down, but her feet don’t stop moving. Eventually, her song peters out and a familiar guitar fills its place.

“I love this song!” Alani cries, immediately recognizing The Cure.

Harry pulls her closer, despite the warmth radiating from both of their bodies, and presses a passionate kiss to her lips. They are surrounded on every side, but in this very moment under the full moon and shimmering disco ball, Harry and Alani feel like the only two people alive. Their foreheads meet and they sway gently, his hands secure at her waist while her fingers toy with the hair at the base of his neck.

It’s Friday, I’m in love.

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles writing #ybmh #ALSO i would just like it to be known that I wrote this before *those* photos so harry get your own romantic gestures >:(#kidding bae <3

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