#no wait hold on how fucking funny if in the new season they address how simon is so fucking old he's gonna die like sooner rather than later

[my-thoughts-and-junk]

anyway back to thinking about fionna and cake for the night because simon compels me

#random thoughts #adventure time #petribell compels me... #honestly the idea of this fifty sixty something man busting it down with a thirty something and THAT being what fixes him??? #like the opposite of what usually happens #usually this would be a midlife crisis but his life is already so goddamn weird #this would be like the most normal thing he could do #it's so fucking funny like hold on #like i appreciate the jokes ive seen about simon being like a fucking horndog??? have yall seen those #just like elizabethian levels of 'this man has not fucked in centuries' #i do think that if simon and fionna got together it would very much be a 'rpg hero and his besotted wife keeping the home' dynamic #simon IS a house husband. he fucking gardens. knits. #no wait hold on how fucking funny if in the new season they address how simon is so fucking old he's gonna die like sooner rather than later #how advanced is their medical technology regarding old world humans and would simon use it #cuz like simon is human classique. his medical needs are likely very different from other future humans. even finn! #how long do humans live. are they gonna give simon a bonkers robot body #anyway how funny would it be if simon somehow got deaged and THEN he and fionna get together #marceline's just like 'you boyified my dad???' #btw if simon and fionna arent physically in the same room in the next season like at all ill be so mad #like at least have them message each other once per episode i live for their fucked dynamic #anways simon has like ten twenty years tops #will they address it or will they just like casually stay in the timeline where they don't have to think about it #DID WE SEE SIMON IN THE DEATH WORLD IN TOGETHER AGAIN #like full on i think they'll somehow make simon immortal #he will somehow deage it'll be weird #they'll do a too young it'll be great #fionna being into simon is in character for her btw as far as finns go #they're into older people like as a species #boing

[violenceenthusiast]

im curious why people are saying supernatural is jewish like idk if jewish writers makes an inherently jewish story especially when things like following out the christian apocalypse from revelations and showing a real physical g-d who is just some guy i think is super jarring since though christians claim to be against idolatry they seem totally fine showing depictions of gd or whatever i dont get jesus honestly but jews are far more strict and the idea of showing gds appearance is pretty wrong

WOOF okay um. Maybe this is one of those Tone Doesn’t Come Thru Well Online things but to me this is soo fucking rude… I’m half way between John Mulaney we don't have time to unpack all of that & Ben Wyatt wait it’s gonna bother me if I don’t explain why you’re wrong. 

This turned into all my thoughts. 

So like. First off, it’s all fun and games. We’re all just joking and joshing and projecting here on destiel dot tumblr dot com and Jupernatural is not an exception in a lot of ways. And so when someone shits on what we’re doing here (yes, even unintentionally) what you get is what happened: oh you think you’re funny well I’m about to be hilarious!!! aka I’m gonna do it even more now out of spite specifically because you said not to. Like it really is all jokes but also you know what’s not a joke? Antisemitism in all its forms, even the casual shit! It’s really draining and it builds up in your veins!! Just. Yeah. You saw a lot of people talking about it today in particular because much like other topics of the day, one thing kicks off a whole other turn of events. So like. one misguided comment that’s playfully antisemitic and then one more little one, and then one big/obvious one launched us (Jewish spn fans) into a whole bigger discussion about antisemitism and erasure of Jews in the spn fandom writ large. It’s one thing to be descriptive, offer a headcanon/what if, or employ a certain mode of analysis. It’s another thing to definitively say This Is The Truth, specifically when to do so overrides something else, especially in this case when what’s being overridden is Jews, an ethnoreligious minority. It’s also another thing to talk over Jews. And mind this has been building for days. Not in a bad way just like, it’s been topical for days and then today one big thing pushed it over the edge to us actually posting abt it (partially bc at that point it’s a pattern, which feels like it needs to be addressed). Like, destiel tumblr is small we pretty much all see all the same posts, and then Jewish spn fans… we’re friends, we chat about life? We joke around together, y’know? If you’re being antisemitic (yes, even unintentionally) we’re all gonna hear abt it. It’s how we stay safe or in this case, curate the online exp.

That being said tho projecting on fiction is like fun and even a good thing at times, and def opens up new modes of analysis. But! the other big thing here is that there IS a LOT of evidence for a Jewish reading of spn, in a lot of ways, and particularly if you know what to look for. Like there’s lots of niche Jewish slang (non-Jews just don’t know these things, and that is a reflection primarily of the writers but once you put it in the script it implies things about the characters too of course), the theology of the early seasons (I’ll get to that in a second), main character motivations (hold on), “Moishe Campbell” implying Mary is (and therefore Sam and Dean are) Jewish, etc. 

It’s not surprising to me or anything that non-Jews don’t catch anything/everything Jewish about spn but that Jews catch both sides of it, because that’s just how being part of a marginalized group works. You learn about your own stuff AND the dominant culture’s stuff because that’s how you survive (socially, psychologically, literally). Members of the dominant culture don’t need to learn the marginalized one, are never confronted with it, and so they just.. don’t. I don’t even mean that in a normative or accusatory way, that’s just an observation on the state of things. Non-Jews who aren’t part of another marginalized religion, aka expressed xtians and cultural xtians, have a ton of misconceptions about Judaism, for example, “Jesus was Jewish” and not, “Jesus was an asshole of an apostate who made life harder for Jews at the time in a myriad of ways and whose movement has had a lasting negative impact on world Jewry (and other peoples) for the ensuing millenia”. I truly Don’t Have Time right now to get into the varied and intense history of antisemitism in all its forms but. the point I’m making here is that I’m not shocked I need to explain that life experience shapes your worldview?? So if you’re Jewish you’re always gonna be living life through that version of the world and it does impact you?? Same as anything else?? As unwell as they may be, spn writers aren’t exempt from that. Jewish people writing about xtianity are doing so thru a primarily Jewish understanding and vice versa. Jews can (and did!) write about xtian lore but in a Jewish way! Some core Jewish themes: wrestling with angels/G-d, questioning G-d, IF there’s a G-d they will have to beg MY forgiveness, the afterlife isn’t really a big thing so all that matters is your time on earth, make amends to others directly and thru your actions rather than seeking absolution with G-d, you are not obligated to complete the work nor may you abandon it, etc… So that’s the other reasoning why we say “spn is Jewish” based solely on it being written by Jews. Rather than Death of The Author, let’s look at what the author has imbued the story with, both intentionally and unintentionally. And re: Chuck and idolatry… I don’t even know where to start with the way you phrased this but. the Jewish Spn Writers of Note are apparently Kripke, Gamble, and Edlund. All of whom stopped writing for the show years before the Chuck Is God plot! 

Like yes it feels very stupid to be writing a thousand words on antisemitism and supernatural but like. this is a spn blog run by a Jew so. This whole thing is also just the same every time. This is very representative of typical casual antisemitism.

#asks #no readmore we die like men (gender neutral) #sorry its so long alma #jupernatural #anonymous #scream maybe i should add a readmore.. maybe in the morning

[razorblade180]

More Actor AU

The previous one <-

Ruby:Justice will be swift! Justice will be painful- *pie to the face* Ahhhh! Nora!

Nora:HAHAHAHAHA! I couldn’t resist!

xxxx

Yang:Do you think she thinks less of me?

Jaune:You and Ruby are sisters. You may fight but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t care.

Yang:Yeah, Ruby...

Jaune:.....Wait are you talking about Blake?

Yang:*caught of guard* Uhhhhh

Jaune:Because why would she think less of you for choosing to act like a first responder?

.......

Ren:*outside* He has a point!

Director:Stick to the script!

xxxx

Raven:Does she have it?

Qrow:You’re going to have be a little bit more specific.

Raven:*slams hand and leans* Does. Salem. Have. The Tape?

Qrow:Tape?

Raven:Yeah the sex tape, it was in the vault.

Qrow:Whaaat? Who’s on it?

Raven:*smirks* Who isn’t on it?

Qrow:Oh shit....*downs whiskey* Tai is gonna kill me!

xxxxx

Apathy:*roaming*

Ruby:Quick, the door!

Weiss:*shakes it* They’re locked!

Yang:Let me-*trips up stairs* agh! My face!

Weiss:Yang! *snickering* Oh gods, are...are you okay?

Yang:Uuuuugggghh. Imma just lie here. Guess we die. *raise head*

Weiss:Uh oh, bloody nose. Time out.

Apathy:*shuffling backwards*

Blake:*on the ground* Imagine, asking grimm just to leave?

xxxxx

Nora:Psst camera man. Pan to Penny.

Penny:*getting make up done* Yo!

Nora:Ready to die a second time!?

Penny:Hell yeah! Gonna make the people cry twice! *puts in red contacts*

xxxxx

Cinder:*chokes Raven* I’m taking what’s mine.

Raven:Last time I checked your name isn’t Tai. So get your hands off my throat. *looks off set*

Tai:*face palming*

Yang:*red* Mom!!

Raven:Someone was thinking it.

xxxxx

Fiona:*reading lines*

Robyn:She’s very focused right now. I think she’s nervous. *grabs megaphone* Cameras go live in five minutes.

Fiona:*tearing up*

Robyn:No wait! I was lying! Please dry those tears!

Fiona:Stop stressing me out! I’m new here.

Robyn:*hugging her* Ssssshhh I’ll rehearse with you.

xxxxx

[Volume 3]

Blake:*getting first aid*

Adam:*staring at camera* Funny thing about Blake Belladonna, she hates reshoots.

Blake:Do not...

Adam:She hates them so much in fact that she’ll do whatever it takes make the first take an absolute masterpiece. Blake Belladonna however also does about half of her stunts. Good stunts too. All those flips and hand to hand, that’s just her being cool. *puts hands together* I’ve worked with her since day one. I’m in most of those actions scenes. So let me tell how insane this girl is.

Blake:Oh geez...

Adam:Ten minute ago, we’re just shooting the scene where her character and my character are fighting. The plan was I “backhand” her and she falls on the ground. Now we’re not perfect. We’ve accidentally grazed each other before. But when I tell you Blake literally just sat there and watched as my hand swung at her....

Blake:Man, I don’t know what happened! *snorting* I knew it was coming, but then the next minute I had no time to go with it.

Adam:Now normally, a sane person would yell cut, but not Blake. I’m looking at her shocked as she’s staring back mouthing “roll with it.” And against judgment, I did.

Blake:It doesn’t get more authentic than that! Plus it only stung.

Yang:Until we finished the scene! We look at you and this red mark is appearing and you’re like “yeah, Adam knocked the hell out of me.”

Adam:And now I feel bad!

Blake:Nah man, perfect scene. Way to improvise.

Yang:Blake Belladonna everyone.

xxxx

Fennec: *dies*

Corsac: Corsac no!!!

Ilia:Wait, your Corsac.

Corsac:Shit, really? Damn, read the long lines all volume.

Ilia:W..wait...*smiling* d..did switch roles? Has no caught that?

Blake:N...no? *looks around* We didn’t right?

Sun:*containg laughter* Please...please tell me we haven’t mixed the roles all season? You audition for...?

Corsec:Fennec. I’m playing Fennec right? *snickering*

Blake:I...uh..how’d we-

Corsec:I’m just fucking with you.

Blake:Oh my god! Dude, I thought we messed up so much shit! My heart!

Crew:*laughing*

Blake:Y’all are jerks. I type the credits don’t scare me like that!

xxxxx

Ghira:*tears cloak off*

Tyrian and Salem: Dayuuuuuum! Look at that man!

Ghira:Pfft, god damn it. You ruined my roar! Hahaha.

xxxxx

Director:Alright Jaune. So in this scene you punch the wall because you just learned about Salem being immortal. Remember to hit hard enough get a good bang for the mic, but we don’t want you breaking your hand or anything.

Jaune:Got it!

Director:And action!

Jaune:*cracks wall*

Everyone:......

Jaune:......

Nora:Welp, he didn’t say anything about breaking the wall.

xxxxxx

Cinder:*holding sister* Diva in the building yall. Introducing mini me.

Ember:I get paid!

Cinder:Yeah you do!

Everyone:(The resemblance is uncanny.)

xxxxxx

Interviewer: Has it feel to work with distinguished talents like Tyrian.

Mercury:There isn’t a moment that man lets me rest. I could have one scene and that guy is offset staring at me and shimming or wearing a prop just throw me off-he’s doing it now! *smiles*

Tyrian:*in Salem’s costume* I don’t know what you mean Mercury? Are you...*props leg up* distracted?

Mercury:Serious doesn’t exist with that man on set.

xxxxx

Interview:Adam, how’s it feel to be the most hated character.

Adam:It’s hilarious. I go the store to get a coffee and the cashier is doing a double take as they stare at me wearing a shirt with Pumpkin Pete on it. Before they process who I am exactly I’m just like, “please tell me you have pumpkin spice?” And their perception is ruined immediately.

Interviewer:Ever get hate at events.

Adam:Oh it’s a game now! Not by my choice. This was Yang’s idea.

Yang:*pokes in* Y’all talking about the game where I make people upset? *sits in his lap* excuse me.

Adam:Against my will...*snickers* anytime I go to a convention with Yang, she enters the room from the opposite door and let the people gather to her while haters gather to me.

Yang:By the time I reach him I see about a dozen people glaring at him while my fans are following me until I get where I need to go. Right before I do, I walk up to Adam as if I didn’t know he’d be there, then jump into his arms happily. Everyone shuts up. They don’t know how to cope.

Adam:That’s with almost any hero in this show. I’m minding my own business and then they cling to me for shock value. Yang and Blake are the worst though.

Yang:I’ve sat in his lap like I am now at a Q&A before because people booed when he showed up. The beef isn’t real people! My arm is fine!

xxxxx

Jaune:*staring at Pyrrha’s statue*.....

*foot steps approach*

Jaune:*looks left* !?

Pyrrha:*holding flowers* A tragedy, this person’s death. You knew them?

Jaune:I...y...no. Just heard of her.

Pyrrha:Really? Cool. Reall strong person. Her people were heartbroken when she chose Beacon. But it was the place she dreamed of. Ashamed she died. Gone, never to be seen.

Jaune:She may be gone, but I know she had no regrets. Pyrrha was a huntress through and through, and I believe she fought like one until the end.

Pyrrha:*nods* Yeah, I think so too. *containg joy*

.........

Pyrrha:This isn’t the real scene by the way.

Jaune:I was about to say! Like, what the hell is happening!? I read the script and missed this part!

Pyrrha:Hahahaha! Good improvising. *claps* way to roll with the nonsense. I can’t believe you said no though! That’s how you get haunted.

Jaune:*laughing* I thought I was! Ghost Pyrrha walking with flowers saying “oh you know her?” I thought I did until you showed up!

Ren:We just shoot random scenes of you talking to Pyrrha and never address it. Jaune is just crazy now.

Pyrrha:I’m down for that!

Director:No! Well....no! Stop trying to get more lines!

Pyrrha:Awww.

xxxxxx

Ozpin:You know originally I brought my kid here so we can bond and he was like “awesome!”

Cameraman pans over to Oscar and Penny sitting on a bench eating together, laughing.

Ozpin:*smirking* I was played, but I respect it.

xxxxxx

[Volume 6]

Jaune:*walks up to Ruby* Promise that you’ll meet us there.

Ruby:I promise. *smiles*

..... *both lean in*

Ruby:......*kisses him*

Everyone:!?!?

Nora:Woah! Cut!

Ruby:Huh? What’s up?

Nora:There’s no kiss!

Ruby:Really? Feels like a kiss should be here. Huh, my bad. Thought it was written in.

xxxxxx

Ruby:*posed up in chair* They had to cut out me kissing Jaune. That’s fine, still kissed him.

xxxxxx

Nora:All I’m saying is maybe I should get a kiss with him.

Director:Nora, just ask him out on your own time.

Nora:Pffft what? Me, into Jaune? No..... I just think it would make good narrative sense.

Director:How!?

Nora:......*walks away* It just would!

#rwby #rwby au #actor au #ruby rose #weiss schnee #blake belladonna #yang xiao long #jaune arc #lie ren #pyrrha nikos #nora valkyrie #penny polendina #adam taurus #mercury black #tyrian callows #rwby salem #professor ozpin #oscar pine #raven branwen #qrow branwen #ilia amitola #robyn hill #fiona thyme #sun wukong #nora’s arc #rwby lancaster

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Stalker X Stalker, Part 12

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Perma taglist: @nathleigh @peachmuses

Stalker x Stalker taglist: @aespades @jayjayspixiepop @blueslushgueen @fan-written @seraphichana @nerd-nowandforever @toodaloo-kangaroo @khneltea @raeuberprinzessin

Tim had exactly zero idea what was going on.

Marinette had disappeared into the shower so he’d figured that, hey, work was over and he was 90% sure it was the day she usually shaved (something he knew because every time she shaved she excitedly asked him to touch her leg because it was smooth) so he had time to kill…

He walked over to her jewelry box.

He’d already bugged all of the new jewelry he had bought her but her old stuff was perfectly intact and he kind of wanted more insurance. Sure, they lived together now so it was unlikely she would have much reason to leave without him, but he was known for his millions of plans and contingencies and he wasn’t about to mess up when it was someone he cared about.

So, he went to work on the first necklace he grabbed. It had a tiny cat with green emeralds for eyes.

He looked at the tiny black pupils that the cat had. He pulled a tiny pick out of his pocket and carefully started carving a circle in it for the bug.

And then a bug-shaped god came flying out of the door for something.

There were a few beats as Tim and Tikki stared at each other.

Tikki broke it with a loud groan.

He watched her float past him for the towel hung on Marinette’s bedpost and then go back inside.

Shit.

He darted towards the bathroom, only to pause at the door. He really didn’t want to burst in while Marinette was probably naked, that was a huge breach of privacy, but he also didn’t want Tikki to tell him about all the bugs he was planting! Shit! He bit his lip, considering.

“Here’s your towel, Marinette,” Tikki said with a sharp edge to her tone.

“... are you mad?”

“Not at you. Where are the cookies you baked last night?”

“Uh, the fridge --?”

“Thank you.”

Why hadn’t she told her? Tim wasn’t complaining, of course, but he was a little confused. She was clearly mad about it and he doubted that Marinette had made some rule that said ‘you can’t tell me about people bugging me’ because that was oddly specific and not a very good idea… so… what?

He didn’t know. He was just going to thank the god of luck -- he was pretty sure that was Tikki -- and continue what he was doing.

~

Marinette didn’t have to struggle to keep everyone inside the first night. She liked that. More time to plan.

But how did she get herself let out, you may ask?

Remember how Tim had said that all-hands-on-deck situations are the only exceptions to the Stay Inside While Injured Rule? Well, guess what had happened.

Arkham had had a huge breakout and Marinette wasn’t going to complain… even if her kwami might be a little disappointed in how happy she was about it.

She was even happier when she’d found out that one of the people that had broken out was Scarecrow. She’d been meaning to tell him about her guesses about his brownie recipe for a while and she hadn’t really had a chance to do it when she was talking to him through a phone with a thick glass between them.

Batman -- Bruce? -- didn’t need to know that they’d broken into a bakery for the night to test out their theories before she had taken him back to Arkham.

He’d thank them when he got the brownies (the missing ingredient was Mexican cinnamon!). Or, at least, she hoped he would.

~

Tim had to say… Marinette's plan to get everyone in her house was working.

He could warn his siblings but, honestly, he found it kind of funny.

He was surprised to see Jason show up first. He raised his eyebrows at his brother. “Didn’t know you were in town, Flamebird.”

Jason did an exaggerated eye roll that Tim swore he could see despite the domino. “Marinette said she had something she wanted to show me.”

And she did. She walked over and dropped the Harry Potter books onto the window ledge beside him. “This is terrible and I hate you for making me read them.”

“It gets better later on --.”

“I read two books. That’s six hundred pages. If you can’t get your shit together in six hundred fucking pages then you don’t deserve my time.”

He scoffed. “They’re not that bad.”

“Oh yeah? Read it. It’s been years for you, right? Get to book three and tell me it’s good.”

Jason scowled and grabbed the books, taking a seat in the armchair.

Tim grinned and rested an arm around his girlfriend. “You don’t actually hate Harry Potter, do you?”

“Only the book version.”

He frowned. “I think we need to break up.”

“Nope. Not allowed to break up with me.”

“Oh, well, if I’m not allowed then I guess I won’t,” he said, leaning down to press a tiny kiss to her lips.

There was a groan from the window and they both rolled their eyes, turning to look at Damian.

“Why must you sully my good mood so early on with your disgusting displays of affection?”

“It’s our apartment, you just so happen to be here,” said Tim, glaring at his brother. “We can do what we want.”

Marinette, bravely, stepped between the two of them with a bright smile. “Now, boys, it’s not the time.”

“It is not the time for your libido, and yet...” argued Damian.

“Please, that isn’t even close to libi --,” Tim started, only to get elbowed in the stomach.

She gave him a look that told him to let her handle it and, while he didn’t think that was a good idea, he held up his hands in surrender.

“Robin, it’s unbecoming of you to argue with everyone you meet,” she chided lightly.

… did she speak Damian or something? Because Damian actually looked a little reprimanded at that and Tim needed to learn her ways.

Then, she leaned down with a grin. He could see her hands start to rest on her knees but she thought better of it at the last second. “I got some new stuff from the pet store and I wanted to know if you wanted to help test them out on Vanelope.”

Damian narrowed his eyes slightly. “What kinds of new things?”

“A bunch of cat toys.”

“... I suppose I can test them out for you.”

“I mean, I said you could help --,” she started, but Damian was already heading towards Vanelope without her.

Tim looked over at his girlfriend. She didn’t seem all that put out by this.

“You really had something planned out for everyone?”

She smirked and took a seat on the windowsill. “Yep. It should take Flamebird about two days to finish the first two books -- assuming he can even get through them that quickly -- and Robin is sure to be very thorough in his testing of all the cat toys.”

“Oh? And what’s your plan for everyone else?”

She shrugged just slightly. “Guess you’ll have to wait and find out.”

When Dick appeared she set him up with Beat Saber, saying that she was curious about why the VR glasses gave her a headache and wanted to see if he had the same problem. Tim knew the problem was that they were made for men and therefore sometimes had negative side effects for women, but he bit his lip before he could offer to get a set custom-made for her in favor of watching Dick select the poppiest pop song in existence and instantly get addicted to the game.

Tim raised his eyebrows slightly when Steph appeared, textbook in hand.

“How did you know everyone would show up?” He asked once Marinette had set her up with a particularly long and difficult worksheet to make sure she got the lesson.

“Well, Spoiler shows up every Saturday night for tutoring, Robin comes by every other day or more and he didn’t stop by last night, Nightwing pops by most weekends, and I called Flamebird over myself… speaking of which…” She pulled out her phone and tapped a few buttons. “Right, Signal said he’ll be here in ten minutes seven minutes ago… so, he’s almost here.”

Tim grinned. “You forgot Cass.”

“She only ever really shows up to get away from all of you guys so, with everyone here, she’d have no reason to come over.” Her face split into a sheepish grin. “Also, she’d see through me pretty quickly.”

“Don’t you want B to have no help?”

She shrugged. “It should be a light night since almost everyone important is in Arkham right now but that doesn’t mean that the two of them can deal with all of Gotham’s petty crime on their own. I give them until three or four before they crack.”

“... you might be a little scary.”

“You don’t last long as a vigilante if you’re not at least a little smart,” she chirped. “I just choose to turn my brain off most of the time.”

He smiled. “Oh? And the exception is what? Making you stay inside?”

She waved him off. “Kind of. It’s more that I only put effort into making sure I’ll never be bored. What’s the point of thinking about anything else? All that does is make you sad.”

Well that didn’t sound healthy, now did it? Tim was pretty sure that was just repression but, honestly, he had no clue. His family famously did not use therapists.

Before he could figure out how to address that there was a knock on the door.

Marinette grinned and opened it to reveal Duke, who was holding a computer.

Duke looked around the apartment, raising his eyebrows at all the people there. “Uh… should I ask?”

“I’m spiting Bruce.”

“Wild. Whatever. Ready for GBBS?”

“Sure. Tim, you gonna watch it with us?”

He hesitated. Steph had been sending him pleading looks since she had gotten her worksheet and he felt kind of bad for her… but then Duke and Marinette sat on the couch and she rested her head on his shoulder lazily to get a better view of the computer and Tim figured that Steph was smart enough to do the worksheet on her own if she really tried.

He took a seat beside her and smiled a little when she switched to lean against him instead.

“So, who’s your favorite person for the season?” He asked.

She thought for a minute before shrugging. “The guy that always wins but keeps being anxious about his bakes. Forgot his name, though.”

“Rahul?!” said Duke.

“Sure.”

Duke frowned. “I’m not sure whether to be happy you like at least one contestant, be proud it’s Rahul, or be annoyed you didn’t remember his name.”

“Character development takes time,” said Tim wisely.

Marinette scoffed a little. “Just put on the damn show. I’m tired of listening to you assholes talk.”

Duke grinned. “Fine. Fine.”

Time passed as the three of them watched the show.

Other family members slowly made their way over one by one. Damian brought the cat with him. Jason came over to give his brain a break after all the reading he had done (and then, when Marinette pointed out that you never take breaks while reading good books, had gone straight back to Harry Potter). Steph decided she didn’t want to pass her class and came to lay across the top of the couch. Dick eventually got tired and rested his body after the intense game that is Beat Saber.

… B released her at almost exactly three thirty. They ignored their comms in favor of continuing to watch the season finale.

~

Marinette bit her lip anxiously as she preemptively turned off the notifications on her phone. Tim did the same.

They typed up matching tweets about how they were moving in with their partners, tagged each other...

Their fingers hovered over the tweet buttons.

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. I’m sure one of my siblings will do something stupid in a few days and the media will leave us alone,” said Tim.

She smiled awkwardly. “That isn’t what I’m worried about.”

He frowned just a little and slipped his arm around her. “Well, can I help with whatever it is?”

She hesitated. It would be better to warn him, she supposed. “Not really. You’re going to get the ‘shovel talk’ --.”

“My dad is Batman, Bean, I’ll live.”

“-- by the person who currently controls the embodiment of chaos and destruction.”

His face paled a little (which is dangerous, considering he was already pale enough). “Does Chat Noir not know we’re dating yet?”

“Nope.”

“... so he’s going to find out through the media?”

“Yep.”

“Shit.”

She nodded her agreement, curling into his side and glaring at the phone.

Adrien was going to be pissed. Especially since he was going to learn through the media. Sure, that was the intention, she was hoping that Tim would be left more or less alone because her friend would be too busy being hurt about not being told to focus on his anger at her boyfriend… but, yikes, she didn’t really want to deal with that just yet.

Also, she thought with a wince, Adrien was going to be even angrier when he figured out that she hadn’t exactly given up, as he called it, ‘stalking’ the people she was interested in. Marinette was pretty sure that Tim already knew about some of it but she wasn’t completely sure and, just in case, she wanted to keep it a secret for a while… a few years, at least, and she wanted to be the one to tell him because she was sure that Adrien would be a lot harsher about it than she would. He already called it ‘stalking’ when it was clearly different, she didn’t want to know what he would say if she let him talk about it in more depth.

Unfortunately, though, Adrien wasn’t stupid. He’d eventually catch on. The longer they dated without him knowing the guiltier he would assume she was.

She sighed and took his face in her hands. “I’m leaving it up to you. I’m not sure. I’m leaning towards being public but...”

He bit his lip as he considered it. She fought the urge to stretch his face until he let go.

He smiled hesitantly. “Well, I’ve lived long enough, I think.”

“Don’t worry, darling, I’ll summon a lucky charm for you,” she half-joked.

He gave a puff of laughter that wasn’t quite real and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Thanks, Bean, but I doubt that’ll be necessary. This is Gotham, no one dies here.”

“We don’t know how long that’ll take, though,” she said with a pout. “I’d prefer to have you back as soon as possible.”

He rolled his eyes. “You’ll always have my siblings.”

“But I want you,” she huffed. “You’re my favorite.”

She felt his cheeks warm beneath her hands.

“I’m your second favorite,” he reminded her. “Cass.”

She snickered. “True. You’re my favorite until Cass accepts my proposal.”

“Hm. I’ll have to enforce the bro code to make sure that never happens.”

“Oh no! I guess I’ll be stuck with you forever, then. What a shame!”

He smiled brightly. Sometimes she lamented the fact that he didn’t give a lot of genuine smiles. The grins and smirks were nice, of course, but she liked to watch the way he would duck his head slightly to try and cover his face with his bangs. Still, in the privacy of her own head, she had to admit that the fact she could get such a smile out of him when few others could made her heart rate spike. He smiled for her. Who wouldn’t be flattered by that?

She pulled the smile that she loved so much down for a kiss.

~

The first time they stepped out the door as an official couple they were hounded by reporters.

Tim wanted to ask how they knew where they lived. He settled for asking them to blur the area around them.

It was more than a little annoying to be harassed on your way to the grocery store. They had just wanted eggs, milk (Marinette kept leaving it out for some strange reason), some cat food, and enough miscellaneous snacks to keep Cass occupied. They did not want cameras shoved in their faces.

But years of being public figures had trained them to keep pleasant smiles on their faces and to answer questions with as little information as possible.

Finally, though, they made it inside and a manager kicked out the reporters.

Marinette let her shoulders slump a little beneath his arm and Tim flexed the muscles in his face before it could get stuck in that awkward half-smile forever.

He squeezed her a little. “You alright?”

She shrugged as much as she could without displacing his arm. “Yeah. Just… hate reporters.”

He nodded his understanding. He pressed a kiss to her temple.

“Want to buy some Oreos while we’re here?”

Her face lit up. “Can we?”

“I’m rich. Of course we can.”

And, so, they did. He made a mental note to start buying oreos in bulk. All the flavors, just in case she ever got sick of the normal version.

They glanced out the door and, though they couldn’t see the paparazzi waiting just outside, they were sure that they would be back soon. They ducked through back alleys to try and get away.

Only to stop in the middle of a dark alley at the high-pitched cry of: “Give me your money or else!”

Tim sighed and set down the cat food to hand over everything in his pockets. A glance back at Marinette confirmed she was doing the same --.

And then he stopped short. He turned more fully to look at their mugger and then started to laugh.

“I’ll… I’ll kill you!” Said the mugger, who was just a kid. They might not have even hit puberty yet.

“With a pocketknife?” Tim said.

Marinette turned around as well at that and a grin spread across her face. “Oh my gods, that’s so lame.”

“It’s Gotham, you gotta do better than that,” said Tim. He reached into his pockets and pulled out a butterfly knife. He handed it over. “Here, have this, at least. Christ, that’s terrible.”

The kid didn’t seem to know what to do about the fact that his would-be victims were laughing at her and apparently helping her mug people.

Marinette handed over everything except for the necklace Tim had given her. “Here, kid. And get a mask or something to hide your face, it’s not nearly dark enough in here for you to just go with a hood.”

“Oh, and here’s my address,” added Tim. He typed it into his phone -- damn, he should have brought more than a pager -- and then handed it over. “We always have a lot of extra food, so if you ever need it just knock on the window.”

“... thanks?” said their now adoptive kid (they didn’t make the rules, this kid was theirs now).

“Yeah, yeah, no problem. Can we go now? One of his siblings is coming over soon and he will start our show without us.”

“Uh… sure?”

~

Marinette sat on the kitchen island, squinting at the cast on her arm. Was it worth taking off for the sake of doing work? Maybe --.

Tim’s voice crackled through her ear and she perked up a little at the sound, smiling. He was talking, greeting guests it seemed. Right. He had a meeting today, Janet had mentioned it earlier that morning.

Marinette sighed a little at the reminder that, while she might not care about her broken arm, her boyfriend did. Yeah. Tim would probably be stressed if she took off her cast before the doctor said it was okay. She settled to lay back on the counter, head resting on her good arm, and stare at the ceiling as she listened to his voice...

Only to dart up when she felt a tap on her arm.

She looked over, eyes blown wide, and only relaxed slightly when she realized she recognized the person.

Adrien stood over her, arms crossed over his chest despite the glasses/miraculous he had hooked to the collar of his shirt, but he apparently wasn’t angry enough to not accept the usual kisses on both cheeks that Parisians did as greeting.

He said something that she couldn’t really understand with the part of her brain still concentrated on Tim explaining some sort of chart.

She sighed and reached a hand to her ear to turn off the bug. “Hey, can you repeat that?”

He didn’t. Instead he squinted at her ear suspiciously. “Does your ear hurt?”

“... no?” She said slowly, a little confused.

“Whatcha listening to?”

She paled. Shit. He was going to be pissed (or, at least, more pissed than he already was) if he found out that her supposed ‘stalking’ was getting worse. She needed an excuse.

“Uh, that one rapper, uh --.”

“BS. You don’t listen to rappers.”

He held a hand out and, reluctantly, she handed it over to him. She might as well get her murder over with.

He set it in his ear and, after a few attempts, turned it on. His face soured even more, somehow.

“This better not be who I think it is.”

She gave a tentative half-smile.

That was all the answer he needed. He grabbed her by the back of her shirt and started dragging her through the streets.

No one helped. Not that she expected them to, it was Gotham, but it was still a little hurtful.

Adrien stopped suddenly after a few minutes of walking.

“... wait… where’s his office?”

#ignore me i need to yell about my dentist appointment in the tags #so they let me watch movies in there right #well i sit down in the uncomfy ass chair and guess what #i watch an ENTIRE FUCKING MOVIE before they even come over #and then the people doing it dropped things in my fucking mouth #and then they had the AUDACITY to comment on the fact that i was shaking #like bitch youve cut my mouth three times already of course I'm scared #fucking dumbass #alright im done #stalker x stalker #AND ANOTHER THING #jkjk #maribat #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug #tim drake #red robin #timinette #timari #timmari #shutterbug

[melatovnik]

i wanted to make this quick wangxian fic rec post just so they don’t get lost. i asked for cute/funny fics and @manhasetardis​​ delivered. thanks teresa! ❤

housed by your warmth by scifi | rated E | 2K words

wei wuxian may never grow to enjoy mornings but he enjoys this, he really enjoys this – stolen time together, bodies reuniting, waking up before the world.

rainy season by scifi | rated T | 3K words

even rabbits deserve to stay dry (in which lan zhan brings all the rabbits to the jingshi during a summer storm and wei ying is pleasantly surprised)

The Thing Is by sunlightrefrain | rated T | 8K words

“What the fuck, dude.” Jin Zixun sounds mad. Oh, he sounds very mad. “Are you out of your fucking mind? I’ll get you fucking expelled.”

Lan Zhan, who doesn’t give even an ounce of a shit, only grits out, “Please, by all means.” Which, for Lan Zhan, is more or less the verbal equivalent of a fuck you and your ancestral home too. Wei Ying blanches.

Or; Wei Ying meets Lan Zhan when he’s seven. Nearly two decades later, Lan Zhan punches Jin Zixun.

Far Away You Are by cqlorphan | rated E | 17K words

Suddenly, it snaps into place. The weary way Lan Zhan has been holding himself is suddenly cast in a new, much more distressing light. Somebody is responsible for it, a real live, horrible, blind, stupid person. The combination of guilt, sadness, and anger that sets in all at once is hard to contain. Lingering wisps of resentment that remain from the night-hunt flock to him, like calling to like.

All four boys stare at him with wide eyes.

“Wei-qianbei,” Sizhui says. “You look...um…”

“Scary,” Zizhen breathes, beaming.

“Who has rejected Lan Zhan?” Wei Wuxian asks.

Or; during one of his visits to the Cloud Recesses, the juniors strike a blow to Wei Wuxian's certainty that his feelings for Lan Wangji are one-sided.

Swipe Right by Bowandtie | rated T | 30K words

How not to use Chinese Tinder, a cautionary tale. (Or not, if you're looking at the end result.)

WWX made his life's mission to be matched with every weird people with hilariously bad profile pic on Tantan.

thoroughly in earnest by stiltonbasket | rated G | 3K words

The first time someone addresses him as something other than "Honored Master Wei" during an assembly, Wei Wuxian barely registers it.

He's never been one for titles, after all.

Ten years after his wedding, Wei Wuxian ascends as Chief Cultivator.

Somehow, he's the last one to know about it.

the And They Were Married And Had a Son series by yellowcarnations | rated G | 9K words total

Xiu Mei can see the gobsmacked faces of her classmates on the screen, some of them even have their mouth hanging open comically. She doesn't doubt that she is in a similar state herself.

Not only is Professor Lan is apparently married, he's married to Professor Wei, and they also have a kid together. Literally no one could've seen that coming.

neck deep with no way out by ericacea & SugarMilkTea | rated T | 29K words

There's a hickey on Lan Zhan's neck, and Wei Ying didn't put it there. Wei Ying's Plan For Gaining Lan Zhan's Affections™️ had not accounted for this. He sets out to discover who exactly has had their mouth on his friend's neck—and figure out how to get his plan back on track.

Friendly Fields, Open Roads by queensmooting | not rated | 12K words

She smiles. She scrunches up her nose. She sneezes a monstrous cloud of dark smoke in Wei Wuxian's face.

"Lan Zhan," he says lightly. "I think something's wrong with your baby."

Nothing But Trouble by brooklinegirl | rated E | 60K words

"I don't want to really date anyone. It's so stupid, I just need to pretend date someone until Jiang Cheng gets his act together, then go back to my own life." He stares at his empty coffee cup.

"Date me," Lan Zhan says. Then he looks at Wei Ying's empty cup. "Would you like another cup of coffee?"

"Always," Wei Ying says automatically. "But wait, what."

"I'll get you another cup." Lan Zhan rises smoothly from the table.

"No, wait, hang on." Wei Ying grabs his wrist before he can take the cup and Lan Zhan freezes up, staring down at where Wei Ying is hanging on to him. "Fuck, sorry, I'll—" Wei Ying hastily lets go of his wrist. "Sorry, I—what did you mean?"

"I can pretend to date you," Lan Zhan says. "You take it with cream and sugar, correct?"

like, comment, share & subscribe by detectorist | rated T | 22K words

“Come on, A-Cheng!” Wei Ying says. “Think of all the hapless youths who are watching hanguang_jun’s channel and being duped into thinking that’s what university is like! It’s not fair on the kids!”

Jiang Cheng appears to be entirely unmoved by this highly logical argument.

—

Lan Zhan runs a popular studytuber YouTube channel. Wei Ying decides to parody his videos. Things escalate from there.

play your love songs all night long by AlfAlfAlfAlfAlf & tardigradeschool | rated E | 2K words

Look, sometimes you meet a guy in college and become best friends. Sometimes the two of you spend a day babysitting objectively the best baby on earth, and that baby needs parents. Sometimes you get married to the guy (platonically!) and spend thirteen years raising the best baby on earth into the best teenager on earth. Also you share a bed. Also you're in love with him.

Wei Ying is pretty sure all that is normal. Lan Zhan agrees. Sizhui is... dubious.

like blue flame over my fingertips by tangerinechar | rated T | 37K words

Lan Wangji’s roommate is brash, noisy, messy, annoying, and — absolutely terrible at feeding himself properly.

(Or: food as a metaphor for love, featuring Lan Wangji’s A++ cooking skills, five times Lan Wangji cooked for Wei Wuxian, and one time Wei Wuxian reciprocated.)

and bonus fic rec from @themanfromnantucket​ (thank you! ^^):

Just say yes by edenwolfie | rated T | 10K words

Lan Qiren had never had a student he couldn’t improve, and Wei Wuxian would not be the exception, especially not now that his nephew was in love with the troublemaker. He would not allow history to repeat itself.

plus one more fic rec from me since i read this recently and loved it:

and there was only one tent by detectorist | rated E | 21K words

Lan Zhan gets into the front and Wei Ying hands him a paddle before getting in the back. The canoe rocks a little as they settle themselves.

“Comfortable?” Wei Ying says. Lan Zhan looks over his shoulder and nods. Wei Ying decides, abruptly, that this is probably the one of the best views he’s ever going to get in his life: Lan Zhan in the front of the canoe, wearing his baby blue baseball cap, bathed in sunlight, with the sparkling expanse of water all around them and the lush sugar maples in the background.

—

Wei Ying and Lan Zhan go camping.

#mdzs #fic rec #note: have not read most of these yet fyi! #just the one from tangerinechar which I adored #and i also enjoyed the rec by themanfromnantucket!

[passivenovember]

Walking Home (v)., the  Tourniquet

For you @thursday-knight. Lysm

They’re going to let Billy out of that horrible, gray padded room on Tuesday, which Steve snorts at over the phone. 

“What, you think that’s fuckin’ funny or something?”

“No, It’s just.” It’s kind of funny. Steve wraps the phone chord around his hand. Nice and tight, like a tourniquet. “Tuesday’s weird.”

“Tuesday’s...weird?”

“Yeah.”

Steve can hear something, like. The clack of a pen. It’s a common nervous tick, a way to cope, but. Steve’s never seen any one hold a bic the way Billy does. 

Barrel in his palm. Clicking the register with his pointer finger, like. He’s pressing Reagan’s Big Red Button. The one to blow up the world.

“What’s so weird about a Tuesday release, man?”

“Ruining the start of a week by spending it in the hospital and then having to use the rest of it adjusting to life outside?”  Steve shrugs, remembering that Billy can’t see him. “They could at least give you a Friday. Then you’d have the weekend, right?”

Billy’s grin is somehow manifested in the honey drip of his voice. “Been locked up for six months, Harrington, what’s two more days?”

And that could be true.

Steve doesn’t feel like so much time has passed. The rise and fall of the moon, the turn of the seasons, the way Billy has to wear fuzzy socks with those little grips on them to stay warm in beige corridors, have been lost on Steve. 

Tainted. Wrapped in paper the exact shade of survival. Surgeries and afternoons carpooling the kids to Hawkins general, paying Barry Mildred to do Billy’s algebra homework for him, and. 

Convincing everyone.

Himself, too.

That Billy would be alright. Steve had to do everything he could to get Billy ready for the world, or.

The world ready for him.

“Has it really been that long?” Steve wonders.

And Billy laughs. “Maybe not for you, King Steve. Some of us had to spend the whole of it in one room.” It doesn’t sound as painful as it usually does.

Steve just nods again. To himself.

He remembers the leaves changing around the time Billy learned to walk again. Halloween. Bringing left-over contraband to spoil Billy’s strict diet of organic bullshit while his body healed itself. Amber leaves complimenting blue eyes as they made unsteady laps around the courtyard together. 

Steve holding his arm out time and time again, and. Billy taking it. 

Christmas. Snowball fights with the kids, crystals on long blonde eyelashes while that stubborn mouth fought to return every smile Max threw his way. Those very same lashes, wet with tears, when Billy opened a vintage copy of Cider House Rules, on Christmas Eve. 

All, you really shouldn’t be spending the holiday in a psych ward, Harrington.

But they held hands for the first time that night. Steve said, where else would I want to be?

And Billy, just. Took what he could get--nothing more.

Steve remembers a lot of things. Happiness. Rocky, at first, unearned, a slide into friendship which turned into peachy cheeks that rivaled the setting sun.

Summer, Fall, Winter, and.

February.

Steve must have missed it. All of it, while he was busy being grateful that Billy was alive. 

He checks the calendar.

“You’ll be out in time for Valentines,” He says. Because that’s important, somehow. “Got any big plans?”

“Oh, for sure.” Billy clicks his pen. One-two-three. “Got a girl waiting for me on the outside, thought we could catch a movie.”

Steve knows. 

He knows it isn’t true, that Billy’s just yanking his ridiculously short chain, but. Steve’s heart beats in time with the click of a pen. Advancing and overtaking the tempo to orchestrate a symphony of worry.

Of fear.

It used to taste like copper. Black slime and dirty snow, but now it tastes like mashed potatoes served on a hospital lunch tray. Contraband sweets. Change and forced endings and--

Steve chokes on something. A laugh that falls wrong halfway through, like a sob colored to fit summer days. “What are you doing after?”

The clacking stops. “Just fucking with you, Harrington.”

“I know.”

“Was a joke, I’m not.” Billy clears his throat. “Everyone who matters came to see me while I was here.” 

Steve just nods. Frantically, because he hears words that aren’t there. Meaning that couldn’t possibly color his life in broad strokes. He thinks about what Billy’s saying, what he really means. 

Everyone who matters.

“Where are you staying? Like, when you get out,.” Steve mutters. The chord is wrapped around his hand again. He leans against the wall, wincing as the pins from his bulletin board pinch his shoulder blades. “You got a place to crash?”

Billy doesn’t say anything. 

Steve clears his throat. “You aren’t going back, right? You’re not going. Home?”

“To Neil’s?” 

And Steve gets the distinction. Feels it settle like an axe between his first three ribs.��“Yeah.”

Billy sighs. “No, fuck that. Figured I’d ask around. See if there are any beds open at RCA.” Recovery Centers of America, that’s. 

“That’s in Indianapolis.”

“Yeah,” Billy says flatly. Steve thinks, distantly, that he sounds almost. Annoyed. “Owens says there’s a car. It’ll take me wherever I want, long as I stay in State.”

“You want to go away?”

“Sure,” Billy says bluntly. “Wouldn’t hurt to leave this place behind, you know. Maybe go somewhere new--”

“Stay with me.”

Steve’s heart is beating in his eyeballs.

The world falls silent. Only for a moment, for as long as it takes for Billy to drop something on the ground and then swear under his breath. His voice shakes, like strands in the wind. “What?”

“At my apartment,” Steve clarifies. He untangles the phone chord which has somehow worked its way to his elbow. “It’s small and shitty, and the couch only has three legs, but.”

Steve closes his eyes and hopes against hope, praying to every god who has ever existed since the beginning of time and everyone who will come after, that Billy can hear every meaning, every hidden word.

“You could.” Steve says softly. “If you wanted to.”

The clacking starts up again, slow and measured. Steve can hear Billy’s breath. The ragged intake of air that sounds painful, like a boy clinging to life in smoke filled memories. Holding on to his hand, saying, I don’t want to die, Steve, please.

It plants Steve’s feet in an ambulance. It tips the string of a tourniquet, bloody and wet with slime in his hands. It makes him remember. 

Pull it tighter, kid, come on.

And.

He’s losing a lot of blood.

And.

Steve, we’re losing him. 

And.

Kid, step away from the body.

Billy clears his throat. “You mean it?” He asks, and.

Steve lets go of a breath. “Of course I do.”

“You’ll get tired of me.” Billy’s voice, it sounds like shattering windows. Steve doesn’t say anything. Can’t respond, because. Nothing in life is more impossible. 

The world falls silent.

Only for a moment, as long as it takes for Steve to close his eyes. “I can’t watch you get in that car and walk away, Billy.”

It’s nothing. Only a part of how he feels. Only a drop of what he wants, but. It sets things in motion again. 

Billy clears his throat. “Alright,” He says. “Give me the address.”

--

Steve wants it to be something other than what it is.

He buys new sheets. Fern green satin, five-hundred thread count and worth a third of what he has in savings. 

They aren’t what he’d usually go for, color or texture, but. The lady at the department store says muted colors are good for preventing overstimulation after trauma and satin is gentle on the skin. Warm, too, which is always a good thing.

Billy says it feels like winter, now. All, I’m a goddamn human snow globe.

Buying sheets on Valentines, it.

Makes Steve hope that this is something else. 

That Billy will insist on putting his new sheets on Steve’s bed instead of the couch in the living room. That they’ll sleep together here, just how they always did in Billy’s hospital bed. 

Chest to chest. 

Billy’s head tucked under Steve’s chin, but.

Mostly Steve being eaten alive by the guilt.

For feeling like this is the start of their lives. That everything before now--living with his parents, fighting monsters, feeling useless in every sense of the word...

All of it was a dream. 

Preparation for the day he would open the front door and find Billy there, waiting.

Steve takes the sheets back to his apartment. He makes up the living room, rearranging the furniture so Billy can have his own space. The couch as a bed and the coffee table as a book shelf.

Billy has a lot of books.

More than anyone Steve’s ever met, more than Robin and Nancy Wheeler combined and Steve doesn’t own any books himself, or. A place to put them. His apartment is the size of a shoebox.

He’ll get rid of the stuff he doesn’t use anymore. 

He’ll make room. 

In his apartment, in his miniscule life, so that Billy has something of his own. 

And maybe after they’re settled in and the bills are paid for the month, Steve will pick up extra shifts at the video store until he can afford buy one. 

A nice, big oak bookshelf for Billy to house his favorites. 

--

He locks himself in the bathroom an hour after moving in.

Which, you know. Throws the evening for a loop. 

He seems happy when Steve opens the front door, dropping his box of books by the shoe rack and toeing his boots off with a grin. 

His body is loose, and. Open, Like he’s comfortable. Billy pokes around the apartment, making fun of the weird shit hanging up on the walls while Steve cooks dinner.

“You gotta get some real art in here, man.” Billy says. It sounds like he’s by the record player, digging through the stack of vinyl's Steve keeps in a shoe box by the T.V. “And some real music, holy shit. How have you been living like this?”

“I’ve been living just fine, fuck you very much.” 

“You have three copies of Waterloo,” Billy snorts. As if that proves something.

He’s crouched by the mosaic of finger paintings left by Holly Wheeler, studying a particularly abstract piece when Steve hands him a glass of sparkling cider.

“Everyone’s gotta have their backup copies of Waterloo, you know, extra in case you gotta dole them out to strangers.” Steve clinks their glasses together. “Cheers.”

Billy swishes the drink around with a lift of his eyebrow. “You trying to get in my pants, Harrington?”

“It’s not alcohol.”

“Why is it bubbly?” Billy accuses, lifting the glass to sniff at it suspiciously. His nose wrinkles, like a bunny rabbit. 

Steve laughs. “It’s sparkling cider. Cherry flavored.”

“Cherry?” Billy snorts, his cheeks glowing pink like little love hearts. “That’s definitely a sex flavor.” 

“It’s a celebration flavor, you dick.” Steve chuckles again. He files through the records he does have, selecting one he thinks Billy can tolerate. “What do you think of Rumours?”

Billy’s wandered to the kitchen. “Hate the activity, dig the album.” He calls.

The sound of cabinets opening and slamming shut echo through the space while Steve figures out the settings for this vinyl, fiddling with the tiny knobs until Songbird filters through at a pace that seems right.

“Ice is in the freezer,” Steve announces, and.

Billy rounds the corner with a bag of chips, happy little smirk on his face. Steve frowns.

“I’m fixing dinner--”

“I haven’t had Doritos in almost a year, Harrington.” Billy says roughly. He rips open the bag, collapsing next to Steve on the floor by the music stand. Billy takes one and licks the cheese dust off the chip, holding the bag out, like. “Want one?”

Steve face hurts from smiling so much. “Nah, I’m good.”

Billy leans back against the wall, rolling his eyes. “What, don’t eat carbs after four p.m. or something?”

And Steve filters through a million answers, all of which make it sound like he’s trying to get laid, so. He settles in next to Billy, letting his eyes fall closed with the sway of the music.

“No, just. Don’t wanna ruin my dinner.”

Billy snorts, bag crinkling loudly as he dives in for another handful. “I could eat twelve bags of this shit and still go ape on whatever rich boy thing you whipped up.” Billy asses him, head cocked to the side. “Bet the cheese makes you fart.” He concludes.

Steve blinks at him. “You’re disgusting--”

“Processed cheese makes everyone shit their pants, man, that’s like.” Billy wipes his hands on Steve’s leg. “Common knowledge.”

Steve makes a noise like a runover chicken, wiping frantically at the trousers he bought at the Goodwill, just for tonight. 

He wets his fingers with spit, wincing and scrubbing at the bright line of orange nacho cheese that stains his corduroy flares. 

The shape of Billy’s fingers is unmistakable. “I’m starting to regret asking you to move in.”

“Thought I was just crashing here until--”

“Now that you’re here I’m no letting you leave,” Steve smiles at him, the weight of it softening when Billy’s cheeks glow pink again. He knocks their shoulders together. “You’re stuck with me.”

Billy falls silent after that.

Shoveling in handful after handful of Doritos and crunching so loudly that Steve can’t get wrapped up in the bass line on the Chain. 

“Dude, you gotta chew so loud?” Steve asks, shoving Billy’s hand away when he reaches to smear nacho dust down the length of Steve’s neck. “My god, you’re a menace.”

“You love it,” Billy giggles, and.

They stare at each other for a moment. Sort of watching the brush of eyelashes against cheekbones while the music plays. 

A backdrop to the start of something Steve doesn’t have a name for.

--

Night falls and Billy doesn’t come out of the bathroom.

The food has been stored, the dishes put away, but the light which escapes like neon strips of gold to kiss the mouth of the hall carpet never flicks off. Never giving way to rest.

Steve thinks about waiting for him. 

He thinks about going to bed, jiggling the handle to make sure Billy’s okay, breaking the door down when two hours turns to three but that seems intrusive. 

If Billy wanted company he would ask. And if he wanted to come out he would, right?

Steve feels like an idiot. 

Pacing back and forth between the living room and the hallway, trying not to make it obvious that he’s right in the thick of gut-wrenching worry. Violent, intrusive images of brain splattered tile fill his mind. 

Billy could be hurt, or. Asleep in the bathtub. Maybe he slipped out the bathroom window while Steve was turning down the couch for him, making the space comfortable.

Maybe he was never here to begin with. Maybe Steve dreamt him up.

Steve paces back and forth, back and forth, wrestling with the urge to call Dr. Owens and ask what he should do, until the clock above the stove reads 11:34 pm and he has no choice but to call it a night.

His knuckles sound like a machine gun when he taps on the door. 

From behind the oak barrier, Billy makes a noise like he was startled out of sleep. Steve can hear him moving around, when he asks, “You okay? Been in there for a few hours.”

Billy opens the door.

His eyes are red and puffy, cheeks a little flushed, like.

“Have you been crying?” Steve doesn’t want him to cry. Tears and hallow feelings, they have no place in the stretch of nightfall that Steve has built for them. 

He feels himself reaching for Billy on impulse, trying to pull their bodies together, but Billy steps back. 

Away. 

To make room for Steve in the bathroom or to make a run for it, Steve isn’t sure. He knots his fingers together for safe keeping. 

“Of course not, don’t be fucking.” Billy’s voice cracks right down the middle, like. A loaf of bread that has been in the oven for far too long. His eyes are glassy when he looks up, and.

Distant.

Steve feels like an asshole. He leans against the door jam. “I can call Dr. Owens, if you want.” 

Billy stares at him. “Why would I want that?”

“You just seem--”

“I seem like what, Steve?” Billy spits. “You gonna psychoanalyze me too, huh?”

Steve grits his teeth against the urge to. Fight back. “It’s just when I started getting the couch ready, you seemed.” Steve runs a hand through his hair, choosing his next words carefully. “Nervous? Afraid, maybe, just a little. Which is alright. It can be scary sleeping alone in a new place, and--”

“I’m not five years old, Harrington, I can handle a sleepover at my friends house.” Billy snarls. He pushes against Steve’s chest until there are rivers between them. Mountains and oceans.

It’s the first time since Starcourt that Billy seems.

Like himself.

The old self, the one that used his fists to keep wandering eyes from getting too close. Figuring him out. If Steve were a younger man he’d fall for it, hook and line, but. 

He knows better.

Six months and a lifetime with Billy Hargrove have taught him a thing or two. He nods, stepping back down the hallway. 

Billy’s eyes track him. Wide and nervous and so, so blue. 

“‘M going to sleep, dude.”  Steve waves a thumb over his shoulder, taking a deep, needed breath. He calls over his shoulder to give Billy some space. “Come to bed when you’re ready. I’ll leave the light on.”

Billy’s footsteps don’t pass his bedroom door until Steve is settled under the covers.

--

He’s starting to think Billy won’t show.

The t.v. is on in the living room, tinny sounds of Yogi Bear filtering through the wall and Steve wonders if he made a mistake in assuming, that.

Look.

Just because they slept together, like, actually slept together  while Billy was in the hospital doesn’t mean anything. 

Maybe Billy is just scraping the bottom of his energy reserves. Maybe he’s getting to the end of the rope when it comes to his friendship with Steve, and didn’t want to move in but had to.

For lack of better options, and like. 

Income and shit--

“Scoot over.” Billy says.

Steve jumps, poking his head out from under the covers to glare wildly at him. “When did you--”

“Move over.” Billy insists, eyes burning like flame in the darkness.

Steve does, all, “Jesus Christ, you’re just a little ray of sunshine, aren’t ya?” But there are butterflies in his tummy. Gently flapping wings that turn into stinging wasps when Billy manhandles his way into the bed, yanking one of the extra pillows out from under Steve’s legs to punch into shape on his side of the bed.

Steve squawks. “I was using that.”

“It was under your knee caps, dork.” Billy mutters, bullying his way into Steve’s space like he did so many times on warm summer nights at Hawkins General, stiff as a board on his government issued mattress.

Steve’s bed isn’t anything like that, it’s like. A marshmallow. Swallowing the two of them whole when Billy presses his face into the length of Steve’s neck, legs coming up to pin him in place.

“I got weak ankles.” Steve pouts. 

Billy doesn’t say anything as he goes limp and heavy on top of his human pillow. Steve instantly feels like he’s over heating; the guy’s a fucking furnace, but.

Billy’s eyelashes are tickling his collar bones.

His breath fans out over Steve’s skin, like cool breezes on summer nights, and. When he starts crying Steve is there.

Like always, Steve sings him to sleep.

#harringrove #valentines day #billy Hargrove #Steve Harrington #please enjoy my trash

[broadwayandnetflix]

Pick Me Up - Bill Hader x Reader

Theme: Fluff, with some Angst

Warnings: Language, Use of Alcohol

Summary: Bill wakes up in the early hours of the morning with a request to pick up a rather drunken you.

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: I started this ages ago, I still really dig some of my word usage in this fic. Once again, Maggie Carey and Bill will not be married in this fic. Thanks for dealing with my sporadic fic posting.

It was just supposed to be one drink. Even if you could remember that rule, you were pissed off and needed to forget everything for a while. Just enough for the alcohol to slip into your system and make you feel somewhat fixed for the night.

Except one drink became two, and three, and soon five. I think it’s important to note that you were an incredible lightweight when handling alcohol.

Usually, you’d have a friend by your side, but this bar wasn’t that far of a walk from your apartment. It would almost be quite the resource, but you rarely tended to turn to drink.

Except that is, until you found out that your boyfriend of five years cheated on you. You were crushed, obviously, but you had almost seen this coming. Or maybe you didn’t; it just didn’t seem impossible for him to pull this act on you.

After booking a job as a cast member on the thirty-eighth season of Saturday Night Live, you often found yourself becoming busier than you had ever been. You would frequently come home late and not have enough time for your partner as you had imagined.

Except, Justin had been so understanding. Why wouldn’t he? He was a surgeon at Lenox Hill and would always take night shifts to keep things afloat.

He was charming, kind, and always knew how to surprise you. You could still picture your future wedding and marriage so vividly; he was the man of your dreams, but was he really?

He probably wasn’t when you had found him fucking a random girl senseless in your shared bedroom. That’s beside the point, everything felt floaty and fuzzy, and the bartender looked concerned.

“Want me to call someone for you?” she suggested as she leaned against the counter. One hand flipping a pen, the other sneaking up to the phone beside her on the wall.

Justi-no, just no, you stopped yourself quickly.

You swallowed carefully, looking at her with an emotion swirling within you that you couldn’t quite place. She cocked an eyebrow, just waiting for your answer to flop into her fingertips.

“His name is, um, he’s a friend. Just a friend, yeah, sure. Okay, hmph. His number is-,”

—

He had just gotten to bed finally, or so he had thought, almost perfecting not focusing on the way his breathing was lulling him to sleep. It was way too late for this anyway; he would definitely make a pick me up at the local joe’s the next morning.

That was until he heard a faint buzzing come from his bedside table; he rubbed his eyes with annoyance. At this hour, who the hell was disrupting him was his first thought, that was until he saw an odd number.

Seth had always told him not to accept calls like these, but something didn’t sit right. Hopefully, he was wrong; it could very well be someone ‘butt-dialing’ him.

“Hello?” damn, he sounded gruff, was this new?

“Hi, I’m here with Y/N; she’s currently here with me at April’s Brewery on 16 W 51st street. It’s getting rather late, and we are closing up soon. She said I should call you, Bill, right?” she confirmed, the information twisting around in his drowsy mind.

“Oh, um, yeah, I am. Is Y/N, okay? I mean, yeah, I’m coming as soon as possible.” he stammered, hanging up before she could even speak, rushing out the door, and calling forth a taxicab.

Why did Y/N pick him of all people? He was him, and you were well you! He didn’t even think you were even that close, well, maybe you were. Things between you and him were pretty nice; you could make him laugh like no other. You made his days better, even if it was with something small and not that big in retrospect.

Except then again, wasn’t this Jus-whoever’s job? Your boyfriend’s job to pick you up? Why were you even drinking in the first place? He had many questions.

The cab pulled to a halt, and he paid the necessary change. Giving the driver a tight-lipped smile, he hopped out and made his way into the destination he was given.

The bar looked reasonably deserted at this point. Still, there you sat looking absolutely crushed, or what appeared that way, nursing what seemed to be a glass of something that didn’t quite look like water. Lost in some conversation with the women who he assumed had called him, her eyes catching him in what looked to be a sense of relief.

She had whispered something to you, but instantly you poked your head up. Immediately locking eyes with him, you pulled yourself up, an excited grin dashing upon your lips.

“You came, oh Billy!” you squealed, rushing over to him before slipping, his arms rushing over to hold you up.

Billy? he thought with much amusement and, of course, concern.

“Woah Y/N, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this...” he drew on his words, your head tilting in confusion. 

“I’ve never seen you this drunk,” he admitted finally only to have you burst into a fit of giggles.

“Oh, Billy, you are so fucking funny. Do you know that? You make me laugh so much, like a crazy amount. God, you are so cute!” His eyes widened. Were you cheating? No, no, he couldn’t do this.

“Y/N, sweetie.” he began while sliding the bartender a couple twenties, leading you out the door. Steering the two of you to a nearby pocket of space between the bar and a convenience store.

“You have a boyfriend, I sincerely hope you didn’t forget,” he stated only to see you deflate at the thought.

“No, not anymore, or at least I don’t think so.” you cried the tears coming down faster than he could’ve imagined.

Wait, really? He sure as hell didn’t see this coming; you two had been together for what had appeared to be a long time. Judging by your conversations at work, things seemed to be fine between you two, rusty, but okay.

You shifted your feet, looking anywhere but him, he gulped, taking hold of your quivering hands that tugged at each finger anxiously. Eyes widening, you looked up at him, something settling in your eyes that he couldn’t quite process.

He smiled softly, lifting up his thumb to wipe away your tear stained cheeks. That’s what friends did, right? You sniffed, pulling back a little farther.

“I don’t think I can go back home tonight; Justin cheated on me with someone from his work.” you huffed, feeling everything come back at full swing.

“Oh Y/N/N, come here,” he whispered, beckoning you into his arms. It absolutely crushed him to see you so....broken.

Slowly but surely, you fell into his arms and sobbed quietly. His hands rubbing soothing circles onto your back, whispering sweet nothings to you. Anything to help, god, he hoped he was helping.

“God, I don’t know what I’m gonna do.” you choked out after a while, clearing your throat and pulling away from him.

His eyes darting between yours and the way your hands twitched anxiously. The sky now a deep violet speckled in navy clouds, stars peeking out from the city fog to illuminate your surroundings. The neon lights of the convenience store sitting behind you showing just how late it was. The way it hit you all at once, lighting up the way your cheeks were stained from your tears.

He had never really had a chance to tell you how beautiful you were. It wasn’t even like he was trying to start trouble; you just were.

Whether it was in weekly meetings, bright and early, the buzz of the day settling into the cast. He’d notice it, the way your lips curved into that gorgeous grin you always seemed to carry on you. The way you did your hair, how it complimented your features so effortlessly. How your eyes would filter in appreciation of everyone in the room, how you’d stop shortly at his. The crinkle in your eyes, a smile beaming at him, offering a little wink.

Mornings with you were never dull, or at least that’s what he thought. He always knew you were out of his reach, so his heart stayed far from him, like a buoy sinking up and back down into the waves of his consciousness, always there but never willing to commit.

Even now, in your current state, he was in awe of your beauty. Yet, it wasn’t polite to stare, and he had to make sure that you’d get some sleep and a cup of water and painkillers by your side the next morning.

“I have a spare bedroom. Honestly, it’s way too late, and I don’t mind it.” Bill gestured, trying to focus on any signs of protest that could erupt from you.

“O-okay,” you whispered in agreement, rubbing your eyes as fatigue started to settle in. A motion that Bill definitely didn’t miss while he looked you up and down.

He gave a toothy grin before motioning you to follow him, standing before the bustling streets of Manhattan. Even at night, cars buzzed and honked past at moderate speeds. His hand outstretched to catch the attention of taxis, one hand reaching out to take ahold of yours.

It felt nice when he touched your little hands slip into his somewhat larger grasp; it felt normal almost. God, he was such a freak, you just got cheated on. You were just friends, nothing else. Get it together, Hader.

A car pulled close to the curb, and within seconds the two of you settled in. He gave the address and buckled in. You looked rather comfy with your face smudged against the cab window.

He smiled softly, as slowly but surely, you fell asleep. The city blurring around the two of you, bright lights and street signs becoming one. He always admired New York City at night, the way it never really stopped moving. Despite the early hours of the morning, people still bustled amongst the streets.

It was still fairly early into his departure of Saturday Night Live; his face was familiar, but not quite famous like his other costars. He could walk the streets with ease and get stopped only a few times. He didn’t know how long it’d last, but he enjoyed the sense of invisibility he carried.

You, however, were admired by many. Bill could remember your first few days on set, those who were not married or dating setting bets on you. Hader often scoffed at the idea of winning your heart amongst his coworkers, you were a constellation, and he was light-years away. That is until you mentioned that you were dating some doctor, and the competition died down.

Yet every now and then, his stomach would grow a flutter, and his cheeks would blush when you’d lay your head on his shoulder, a familiar friendly feat you’d perform after long hours in 30 Rock. He hated that he crushed someone who was taken; he never once stopped hating himself for that.

The car halted to a stop, Hader’s apartment complex sitting right outside. He eyed the cash monitor for the second time that night. In an instant, he paid the acceptable amount, tipping the driver for good measure. Almost standing up before remembering how you had fallen asleep against the window.

He huffed anxiously, wondering how on earth he would do this. The driver was obviously tired and not pleased with the hold-up between his departure towards his own comfy mattress. Grabbing his stuff, he slipped out of his side before going around to opening your door.

Your figure slumping towards the pavement before he scooped you up in his arms. Internally cursing himself if you were to wake up, and want him to rid you of himself at once. Instead, you peeked one eye open, his body heaving anxiously. Y/E/C peeking up at him in dazed confusion, before murmuring something and nuzzling deeper into his hold.

It was a skill that he hadn’t perfected, getting someone into his house, without making much noise. Not to mention the fact that you were asleep in his arms, chest rising in perfect rhythm. He nudged the cab door closed and made his way up to his apartment door. Victoriously managing to slide his hand out from underneath you and into opening his front door.

Slipping into the building, he quietly kicked the door closed behind him. You only stirred, which promptly stopped him dead in his tracks, before continuing on towards the spare bedroom he owned.

Gently he laid you down onto the bed, your body curling up at the contact of the comfortable mattress. He smiled before digging around to place a blanket over you, fitting it, so you were well adjusted to sleeping.

His heart heavy and mind slowly beginning to beg for sleep, his feet padding towards the door of the guest bedroom. That is until he heard a rustle and a soft murmur escape your lips.

“What was that, Y/N? Did you say something?” he wondered aloud, his eyes trying to adjust towards the room now blanketed in darkness.

“It’s-just, I’m not used to sleeping alone anymore, you know? I’m so tired, though, could you stay until I fall asleep?” you admitted softly, playing with the sheet covers on top of you.

Bill’s eyes widened into the size of saucers; he didn’t see this coming. He shook his head before quickly nodding in your direction; you yawned without much thought and laid back, dozing off.

He stood there absolutely puzzled on what to do, except stare, which was definitely not inappropriate whatsoever. His eyes darting anywhere in the room, but you, he focused on an old rocking chair that his mother gave him when he first moved in.

It looked comfy enough. It would do, if that’s what you wanted, that’s what a friend would do. God, he hoped that’s what a friend would do in this case scenario.

The chair creaked noisily, and he cringed every single time until you stirred once again, thrusting your hand upward into the air. He sat puzzledly until your finger flicked up and down to signal him to join you.

He gulped, “please, Bill, just for tonight?” you said with a slight whimper.

Timidly he shoved the covers outward to create space, sliding into the bed, stiff as aboard. You couldn’t help but murmur something sleepily before rolling over beside him.

He froze, but he couldn’t stay awake forever. Your head now resting upon his chest, curling into his side, you smelled nice. He let you stay put before trying to get situated himself, sleep soon beginning to overtake him.

Friends totally did this, yep, of course, they did, Bill.

#@broadwayandnetflix #bill hader x reader #bill hader #fluff #bill hader x you #angst #alcohol #2020 #bill hader imagine #snl

[emotionally-imbruised]

Santa Tell Me

“Don’t make me fall in love again if he won’t be here next year.” ❆

A/N: Oh wow, she actually wrote something. Who is she? HAPPY HOLIDAYS EVERYONE.

Word Count: 7k

A cool breeze drifted across the room, causing goosebumps to rise on Y/N’s exposed skin as she instinctively cuddled up against the warm body lying next to her. She tried to fall back asleep, but unfortunately, her thoughts refused such a luxury as she began thinking of how this really was the last place she should be.

She didn’t mean to spend the night, but after a few glasses of wine and a deep conversation instead of paying attention to the Christmas movie that played in the background, she was a bit more welcoming to the way Harry’s hand rested on her thigh; rubbing soft circles with his thumb before eventually leaning in to catch her lips with his. And she let him! God, why did she let him?

Y/N’s relationship with Harry was complicated, to say the least. The two of them have been friends for quite some time, however, things became a little difficult roughly a year and a half ago when they began sleeping with each other.

It started off casual, there were no strings attached whatsoever. The two of them were just good friends and single. One fateful night when she and Harry had gone out, he ended up at her apartment, with minimal clothing, and the rest was history. Well, kind of.

She wasn’t expecting to sleep with him for a second time after that… or a third… and most definitely not a fourth; but the universe has a funny way of working sometimes and soon enough, hers and Harry’s little arrangement became a rather common occurrence.

It was great, for a while. Although the two of them were quite literally just fuck-buddies, neither of them tried to really change the situation because they were both content with it. There was no labeling of what their relationship had become. They were both exclusively sleeping with one another, their friends were somewhat aware of what was going on but tended to stay out of it, and it just worked.

But then Y/N caught feelings.

She hated how easy it was to fall for Harry back then with his stupid smile and magnetic personality, but it was just so hard to avoid.  Especially seeing how being intimate with him seemingly brought out the significant feelings she felt towards him, regardless of how hard she tried to keep them hidden. But the thing was, it was almost as if Harry had caught feelings as well.

He was the one to address what happened after the first time the two of them slept together, even going as far as to blatantly say that he wouldn’t mind if it happened again. It was also him that hinted at Y/N being the only person he was seeing. He was still the kind, funny, sweet Harry that she knew and loved dearly as a friend; but this brought a whole new meaning to their relationship and they weren’t aware of how complicated things were bound to get.

Last Christmas was when everything started to fall apart. Y/N fell so hard for him and based on his very affectionate actions towards her, even when they weren’t just shagging, gave her the impression that he might’ve felt the same way. But for whatever reason, they were both too chicken to admit that they wanted more.

She had finally mustered up the courage to tell Harry that she loved him; but on Christmas Eve when she planned on actually telling him this, she never got the chance to do so.

He stood her up, to put it simply. The two of them had plans to go to a Christmas market together and while they were out, Y/N decided that she was going to tell Harry how she felt. She was pretty sure he knew about her feelings too and that made it even more nerve-wracking. However, after she arrived and waited for him for over half an hour without a text to say where he was, she went home and didn’t hear from him again.

The following day, all Y/N received was the obligatory Merry Christmas texts friends send to one another. Harry didn’t explain why he didn’t show, didn’t give any indication that he wanted to see her again over the holiday season, and she was too hurt to ask why. So, she let it be.

Then he jetted off to Japan and soon was caught up in the whirlwind of what it meant to be a celebrity. Which was fine. As his friend, she still rooted for him in everything he did, despite how stupid she felt for falling for one of her best friends.

The year came and went fairly quickly, and it was a rather significant one for Harry. Having co-hosted the met gala and putting the final touches on and beginning promo for his second album, it was no wonder he was so busy all of the time. Y/N was busy too, having immersed herself into work while trying to pan out what her future entailed and where she would end up.

Throughout the year, both Y/N and Harry remained in touch, which they were both extremely thankful for because of how they were such good friends, to begin with. What happened last year at Christmas was never addressed, and was kind of just dropped. Almost as if it didn’t happen. But then one night when Harry was back in London a few months ago, all of that changed.

She hooked up with him… again… and it soon began somewhat of a regular occurrence all over again. But this time she was careful. Y/N didn’t want to get hurt like last year because those feelings she had never really gone away, so she was a bit more hesitant on how often the two of them would shag.

Instead, she focused on hanging out and catching up with her friend because she really missed him this year with how busy he was; and luckily for her, Harry was seemingly ok with that.

However, that didn’t mean there wasn’t the odd slip up where one of them ended up in the others bed every once in a while... Kind of like what happened last night.

Harry was still dead asleep beside her, and Y/N’s want to just dip and never speak of this again was very prominent. There were only a few days left until Christmas and she needed to go into work that afternoon to finish up some last-minute things before she was off for the holidays, but leaving the nice warmth of Harry’s bed was proving to be rather difficult.

After a moment of consideration, she decided that she should use this time to escape. It would mean avoiding Harry, but she was pretty ok with that because no, she didn’t want to talk about what happened and as of late, it seemed like Harry has.

Letting out a sigh, she untangled herself from the sleepy hold Harry had around her waist and got out of the bed. She bit down on her lip as she took in the clothes skewed around the room before making a dash for the en-suite. If she showered at Harry’s, all she would have to do is run home and change before going into work. It was bound to save her some time, so she decided on that and stealing some over Harry’s oversized clothing instead of putting the previous night's outfit back on.

When Y/N took a look at herself in the large mirror above the vanity, a disgusted noise left her mouth. She looked rough, and the want to shower grew even more.

She quickly moved to the small cabinet and grabbed one of the large fluffy towels that resides within it so that she could wrap it around herself before brushing her teeth.

Yes, she had her own toothbrush at Harry’s. He had one at her flat too. It was something the two of them started years ago and just never weaned itself out. Whenever one bought a new toothbrush, they’d buy the other one too and put it in its respective place for them to use the next time they were over.

As Y/N ran some warm water over the brush before putting some toothpaste on it, she didn’t notice the presence of another being sneaking up behind her until she looked back at the mirror and locked eye contact with them.

“Holy shit!” She jumped, almost dropping her toothbrush in the process. “What the hell, Harry?”

“G’morning to you too,” he responded, sleep still lacing his voice as he walked up to the vanity to stand next to her.

He didn’t say anything else, just reached for his toothbrush and began brushing his teeth as if nothing happened. The two stood next to each awkwardly, each glancing at the other every once in a while and Y/N hated it. It was as though there was this huge elephant in the room separating them even though there was really only a couple of inches between them. So, as she finished rinsing off her toothbrush and waited for Harry to do the same, she slowly began stepping away from the vanity.

“I uh, I’m just going to take a shower if that’s alright? Then I’ll be out of your hair.”

He nodded in understanding before glancing I’m towards the door and biting down on his lip as if contemplating what he was going to say next. “You know you don’t have to leave, right?”

“What? Er- I, well.” His response caught her completely off guard and she wasn’t too sure how to respond. After a brief moment, she was able to recollect herself. “No, I do. I uhm, I have to go into work to finish up a few things before we’re closed for the holidays. Just a quick shower and then I’ll be on my way.”

Harry knew what she was doing, knew that she was trying to not discuss what happened between them the night before and avoid him as much as possible as a way to do so. He thought of a way to approach it but settled on just messing with her a little bit instead.

“Ok, I need to shower too.”

Without another word, he walked over to the large glass shower and reached in to turn the water on.

It didn’t take long for the warmth of the running water to create a steam-filled room and once Harry was done gathering a towel for himself, he finally made eye contact with Y/N from where she was standing in front of the mirror gawking at him in the reflection. A small chuckle escaped his mouth before he started removing the track pants he wore, all while not looking away; as if silently taunting her.

“I know what you’re doing and it’s not going to work,” she stated as she spun around to face him.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, love,” he replied innocently as he wrapped the towel around his waist before ridding himself of his boxers and stepping towards her.

“You’re trying to get me to shower with you.”

“M’trying to save on my hydro bill this month actually, but that doesn’t sound too bad either.”

She couldn’t think of a way to respond as he finally reached her, and gently linked their hands together. Harry was well aware that if he were to lead, she would follow. It worked both ways with them, seeing as he knew damn well of the lengths he would go for her... but it wasn’t the time to discuss that yet. He just wanted to be with her for a little while longer, so when he started walking towards the shower with her in tow, he decided that he’d use his time very wisely.

Once their towels were removed and they were under the warm running water of the shower, very few words were spoken between the two. Y/N wasted no time in being the first to wet her hair and start washing it, eventually switching places with Harry so that he could do the same.

Both would have been lying if they said there wasn’t an intense amount of sexual tension as their bodies brushed against each other with each movement, which Y/N tried greatly to ignore. She needed to get clean and leave; already feeling stupid enough to fall for his antics and join him in the shower at all but also very much so not wanting to change anything about her current predicament.

As she finished rinsing the conditioner from her hair and went to step out from under the water, her back came in contact with a sturdy force that she knew could be nothing other than Harry. Immediately, she turned around to face him. With the way he looked down at her, eyes sleepy and seductive, she knew that him standing that close was intentional, but still couldn’t help the tiny yelp that left her mouth as he leaned down to crash his lips against hers.

Her back soon came in contact with the cool tile wall the shower head was mounted on. That in contrast with the warm water that still poured on her and Harry, along with the firm grip he had on her waist, was all rather exhilarating. It didn’t take long for her to melt into the kiss, opening her mouth to allow him further access and tangling her hands into his hair.

Y/N smiled when he moaned against her mouth as a result of her tugging slightly on his dampened curls, feeling proud of herself for being able to get him as worked up as he manages to get her. His hands then began roaming, spending some time massaging each of her breasts before leaving a tingling trail of sparks as he moved them down to where she was throbbing to feel him.

“Harry-,” she gasped before he could do anything else, causing him to freeze. He leaned against her slightly and she felt his length against her. Felt just how hard he was with anticipation and although part of her wanted to reach down and help with that, her mind screamed at her not to as thoughts of what occurred a year ago started flooding her mind again. “Fuck, what are we doing?”

“M’not sure I know what you mean,” he mumbled before leaning down to latch his mouth and that sweet spot in the crook of her neck he knew would have her seeing stars. His hand then reached down to where she was basically dripping for him and rubbed a harsh circle on her oh-so-sensitive bud with his middle and ring fingers. Her knees buckled as she gripped onto him even more, and he made no effort to hide the smug grin he wore as he moved back to get a better look at her. “Seems like you’re enjoying whatever it is we’re doing.”

“I- I am,” she stuttered as his fingers continued their work and another gasp left her mouth just as his lips met hers hungrily.

“Then what’s the problem?”

She moaned against his mouth and felt herself fading into his touch again, loving him and how he made her feel. Then her eyes widened in panic as she realized what she just internally admitted to herself and began pushing him away.

“No, no. We can’t keep doing this,” she stated as she created enough space between the two of them so that she could worm herself around him and exit the shower.

“Y/N, wait,” he followed after her, only to be met with a towel coming in contact with his face after she chucked it in his direction.

“No, Harry! Last night shouldn’t have happened and neither should have the times before… I can’t keep being with you like this, not after what happened last year. I refuse.” Her voice cracked slightly at the last part of her statement as she worked on wrapping herself up in a towel again before turning to face him; eyes widening as she took in his still naked form. “For fuck's sake, please put on the towel would you?”

He fumbled with the item while reaching into the shower and shutting off the water before finally wrapping it around his waist, and stepping towards her. “Ok, ok. I, fuck, I don’t even know where to start Y/N. Please just stay and we can talk about this. All of it. We can talk about us…”

“There is no us, H,” she replied and Harry was sure he saw tears threatening to form in her eyes as she looked at him. “You ruined that last year when you just up and left without an explanation.”

“If you’d let me explain, I would be more than happy to,” he argued; becoming frustrated with how stubborn she was being.

“No, I have to go. I need to borrow some clothes to wear to my place so I can put something on for work. I’ll get them back to you somehow.”

“But-,” he wanted to try and reason with her but there was no point because in the next moment, she was rushing out of the bathroom and Harry knew better than to go after her.

Walking into the office, Y/N tried to avoid eye contact with her co-workers. It’s not that she didn’t get along with any of them, but her hair was still damp from the shower she just had and she very much so looked like she was coming from a place she shouldn’t have been.

She was overly frustrated with herself for staying at Harry’s longer than planned because, on top of everything that just happened between the two of them, she now had the attention of everyone in the office as she shamefully made a beeline for her desk. As much as she hated the thought, she knew she’d get grilled sooner rather than later.

“You look rough,” stated Candace, a fellow journalist and by far the best friend Y/N had made since starting work in that particular office.

“I really don’t want to talk about it C,” Y/N replied as she took off her jacket and sat at the desk next to her friend. “I’ve had a shitty morning.”

“I can tell,” she responded with a chuckle before spinning around and grabbing a still warm Starbucks cup from the tray located next to her. “You weren’t responding to my texts so I figured something was going on. Thought you could use a little pick-me-up.”

Y/N let out a thankful sigh of relief as took the cup from Candace’s hand and took a big gulp. “God, you’re a lifesaver.”

“I do what I can,” she chuckled and shook her head. “Boss woman is letting us go home early today once we’re done our piece for next week's column, but I just really want to know where it is you’re coming from and why you’re so salty because of it.”

“What makes you think I’m coming from anywhere in particular and that I didn’t just sleep in?”

“Well you are pretty much drowning in that hoodie you’re wearing, so I know it’s not yours,” she stated, causing Y/N to look down at her outfit and take in her pair of ripped jeans and Harry’s sweater she stole on her way out of his flat. “Is it a boy’s? Oh, it definitely is. You gotta spill.”

“I, well, this is Harry’s.”

“Like Harry Styles… as in your famous best friend,” Candace asked for clarification, a frown forming on her mouth when Y/N nodded. “Well damn, I thought I was going to get some juicy details about a guy you were sleeping with.”

Y/N stayed silent and shifted awkwardly in her seat.

“Wait… YOU’RE SLEEPING WITH HIM AGAIN?”

“Would you calm down!?”

“No, I can’t,” Candace replied and leaned closer so no one else would hear her losing her mind. “How? When did this happen?”

“It’s been off and on for a few months now,” Y/N explained with a shrug. “I’ve been wanting to just stop altogether because of what happened last year, but I don’t know.”

“You still like being with him, don’t you?”

“Of course I do. Pretty pathetic, right?”

“Not pathetic,” she stated. “Surprising, yes. I thought you didn’t want anything to do with him that wasn’t completely platonic after what happened last year.”

“I didn’t,” Y/N told her honestly. “But he sucked me right back in and I ended up falling harder than I did before.”

“Oh, to be in your shoes.”

“Shut up, I’m having an internal crisis over this whole thing.”

“I mean, you could always just tell him how you feel,” Candace told her with a wink. “Seems like a pretty easy solution to me.”

“Except it’s not.”

“Why is that?”

“Because what if he doesn’t feel the same and I just make a fool out of myself… again.”

Candace was about to respond to that but didn’t get the chance to when Y/N’s phone dinged with a new notification from her jacket pocket, causing them both to look in the direction the noise came from. “That’s him, isn’t it?”

“Even if it is, I’m not going to answer.”

“Quit being dramatic,” Candace scoffed and stood up from her chair. “I’m going to get some water and then we’re going to finish this article so we can get the hell out of here. Just respond to the man.”

Y/N knew she was being dramatic and although she was very hesitant in doing so, she reluctantly pulled her phone out to look at it.

Harry

Y/N, we‘re going to have to talk about this eventually.

Y/N

Doesn’t have to be any time soon.

Harry

I’d prefer if it was.

She stared at her phone for a second, debating on a response but didn’t bother writing anything as the typing bubble appeared on Harry’s side of the screen once again.

Harry

I owe you a trip to the Christmas market since we didn’t go together last year. Meet me there tomorrow night and we can talk?

Y/N

Are you actually going to show up this time?

Harry

Yes, I promise. Meet me there for say, 9pm?

Y/N

Ok.

Harry

Great. See you then. x

Y/N audibly sighed as she set her phone on her desk, but that soon turned into an internal groan when she heard a familiar voice call her name and looked up to see the literal last person she wanted to see walking towards her.

Connor was nice… enough. He was one of the I.T guys that helped around the office with any technical difficulties there may be, and also just so happened to be someone Y/N kind of, almost, hooked up with earlier in the year. It was a one-time thing. After continuously turning him down as a result of her relationship-ish type thing with Harry, he kept asking her out up until early spring when she finally agreed. They went for dinner, she had a mediocre time, then they made out before she denied his invitation to go back to his place and went home instead. The rest was history.

However, Connor didn’t see it that way.

She would continuously turn him down, but he kept coming on to her after that. Y/N was aware that she had not properly shut him down but just would come up with excuses as to why she was too busy and couldn’t go out with him instead, and hadn’t really got the chance to either. She didn’t want to tell him she wasn’t interested at work in front of everyone else, and she also didn’t want to tell him over text because both situations seemed pretty shitty. So, she kept on with the excuses.

“Uh, hey Connor!” She greeted with somewhat of a smile as he walked up to her desk and leaned against it.

“How’s it going?”

“Pretty good. Going to try to get my work done fast so I can get out of here ASAP. How about you? Any plans for the holidays?”

“Not really,” he explained. “I’ll go see my family on the 25th but that’s about it. Hey, listen, do you have any plans for tomorrow evening?”

And there it was. But at least this time, she didn’t need an excuse for turning him down.

“I do actually,” she told him. “I’m meeting a friend at the Christmas market.”

“I see,” he replied disappointedly.

Just tell him you’re not interested already, Y/N internally screamed at herself, but still couldn’t figure out a way to actually to just flat out tell him that; until she was struck with an idea.

“You know what,” she started. “Why don’t we meet up beforehand? There’s a little pub down the street from the market, we can meet there at around 8:30pm to grab a drink and… talk.”

“Yes!” He exclaimed, causing Y/N to jump as he pushed away from her desk and started walking away. “It’s a date, I’ll text you.”

“Wait no, it’s not a-,” she called after him, but there was no point as he rounded the corner and disappeared out of sight. “...date.”

“Oh, now you’ve messed up,” Candace’s voice sounded from behind Y/N as she walked back to her desk.

“No, I’m going to meet him for a quick drink and then let him down easy. Simple as that.”

“You sound pretty confident for someone who hates confrontation,” Candace scoffed. “Need I remind you how you’ve been avoiding talking to Harry for this exact reason.”

“Ok, no need to call me out like that,” Y/N whined and leaned back against her chair dramatically. “It’s going to be fine… I hope.”

“You and me both cause I’m sick of hearing about your dating struggles when I can’t even get a text back.”

“You want them? Take them. I’m over these struggles more than you are.”

“Whatever,” she chuckled. “Let’s finish this article and get the hell out of here so you can go home and prepare for the shitshow of a night you’re going to have tomorrow.”

“Thanks for the optimism, C. Don’t know what I’d do without you.”

The pub was busy for a Tuesday evening, much to Y/N’s dismay. It really shouldn’t have surprised her though seeing as it was Christmas Eve.

Not everyone goes home for the holidays, hell she was a prime example of that with how she didn’t have plans to go see her family until Christmas was over. Also, some people just don’t enjoy the time of year… which was fair. But Y/N still couldn’t help but wish she didn’t have to aggressively use her elbows just so she to get to the bar and order a drink, all while hoping no one would take her table once she stood up to do so.

Connor was late showing up, and she extremely annoyed over it. She was about to leave when she glanced down at her phone to see it was almost 9pm, but then she got a message from him saying he’d be there shortly and decided to wait. Her phone battery was dangerously low, so she sent a quick text to Harry saying she’d be a few minutes late and apologized before the device died completely and she had to sit in boredom until Connor showed up.

She wasn’t sure how much time passed when U + Ur Hand by P!nk started blaring through the speakers of the pub, mindlessly tapping her fingers along to the intro beat of the song until a group of obnoxiously loud men bursted through the front door. There were four of them, and Y/N couldn’t help but roll her eyes as they began yelling over each other, but then she noticed that Connor was amongst them.

He locked eye contact with her almost instantly, and soon he and his friends were on their way to her table.

“There she is,” Connor greeted as they approached, immediately wrapping his arm around Y/N’s waist and pulling her closer to him.

“Uh, hey,” she replied awkwardly while lowkey pushing him away, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable.

He then looked to his friends, nodding towards one that was giving him a pointed glance before shrugging and climbing up onto the stool next to Y/N. He unwelcomely rested his hand on her thigh, and she was quick in moving away from him again; easily smelling the alcohol that wafted off him and his friends. “Guys, this is Y/N. She’s the one I told you about.”

“She’s hotter than you described,” one of the guys slurred, causing Y/N’s face to scrunch repulsively.

“Yeah, you sure you don’t want to share?” Another said, and Y/N never felt more disgusted in her life.

“Woah, unnecessary comments guys,” she spoke up, becoming rather fed up with how they were acting.

“Yeah guys,” Connor scoffed and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “She’s mine, back off.”

“Connor, m’not-,” she started and turned to look at him as she said this, but was suddenly cut off by his lips crushing against hers. Her eyes widened in alert as she quickly pushed him away and stood up from her seat. “Ok, you know what, I’m gonna go. I wanted to talk to you about something but it looks like I’ll just have to tell you at work when you’re not drunk.”

“Oh come on, don’t be like that,” he replied conceitedly as Y/N started putting on her jacket. “Quit playing hard to get.”

“Hard to get?” She looked at him as if he grew a second head. “What the hell makes you think I’m playing hard to get?”

“Well, it’s pretty obvious, Y/N. Why else would you make up such bullshit excuses to not go out with me after we hooked up a few months ago.”

“First off, we didn’t hook up. We kissed. Second, did it not occur to you that maybe I’m not interested because you’re an arrogant asshole?”

Connor’s friends ooh’d and began mumbling to one another as he looked at her offendedly. “That’s not the only reason. You and I both know that.”

“Excuse me?”

“I heard you and Candace talking about how you’ve been sleeping with that famous friend of yours again,” he explained and Y/N immediately felt the need to defend herself. “Harry what’s-his-face. Thought that after he left you last year you’d get over the idea of thinking he’d want anything to do with you.”

He can’t be serious, she thought to herself as she tried to figure out what to say to that. She was absolutely furious and all his friends did was laugh, feeding her anger even more. As she racked her brain from something to reply with, the bridge of P!nk’s song began and Y/N glanced down at her still half-full glass of vodka cranberry, before picking it up and throwing the contents at Connor’s face.

“Fuck you. You don’t know anything about my relationships with others and are in no place to comment on them,” she stated firmly as she slung her bag over her shoulder. “At least Harry doesn’t treat me or anyone like they’re just part of a conquest in order to get a good shag. He’s a genuine being and is worthy of my time, it’s no wonder I’ve fallen for him as badly as I have. You, on the other hand, are the worst type of person and I really hate that it took me this long to realize it. Don’t bother speaking to me ever again, especially at work because I will cause a scene. Have a terrible night, you fucking jerks.”

And with that, she stormed out of the joint without looking back. Part of felt stupid for blowing up on Connor, but a bigger part kept thinking of how he deserved it.

Once she was out in the cool winter air, she let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding and started walking down the street towards the market. She was still livid, but just the thought of being near Harry put her mind at ease a little bit.

As she walked through the market's entrance she saw that no one was taking tickets and it was much emptier than she was expecting. Owners of the stands scattered all around the area that sold food and Christmas trinkets had packed up and all seemed to be heading home.

“What?” Y/N mumbled to herself before approaching a lady who was busy counting money from a till. “Hi, excuse me. Do you know what time it is by chance?”

“It’s after 9:30pm, dear. The market is closed.”

Shit.

“Oh, ok, thank you.”

It felt like Y/N’s heart plummeted into the pit of her stomach as she thoughts about Harry probably thinking she stood him up entered her mind. She grew even more frustrated over what went down with Connor and how it made her so late, as well as the fact that she couldn’t even call Harry and apologize for not showing up.

Because the thing was, she decided that she wanted to. She spent the 24 hours leading up to the moment, hyping herself up and was ready to talk things over with Harry. She planned on admitting her feelings and expressing how what happened on Christmas Eve the year before really hurt her. Regardless of the outcome, she was ready to put herself out there for him, and then she felt like she lost that chance.

She was hopeful for a few moments, thinking that maybe Harry was still wandering around somewhere. But the further she walked into the market, the less populated it became, and that hope soon faded.

The lights were pretty at least. Y/N really enjoyed looking at them as she continued on her stroll through the area. There was an entire wall that was covered in twinkling lights, that continued upwards and hung over the cobblestone path she was walking down. That along with the light snow that was falling from the sky made feel warm and fuzzy inside as she took it all in; smiling to herself as she stopped to look up at the flakes coming down before continuing on.

Lastly, she came to a stop at the base of the huge Christmas tree that was located in the centre of the market. It seemed different from how it looked the year before with its lovely blue decorations, but she just couldn’t figure out how it differed as she was observing.

A Michael Bublé Christmas song played from a loudspeaker nearby as she continued staring at the tree and thought about how she waited in that exact spot for Harry a year prior. She felt rather silly thinking about it now, but she shrugged it off and decided that she should probably stop gawking at the tree just head home.

“I don’t like the ornaments they used this year,” a voice suddenly spoke up from behind her. “Sure, the blue is nice. But I liked the red ones they used last year much more.”

Caught off guard by the person standing behind her now, Y/N was hesitant on turning around to face them. But once she did, it felt like the wind was knocked right out of her.  

“Harry?”

“Didn’t think you could get rid of me that easily, did yeh?” He asked with a large grin.

“Of course not,” she responded with just as big of a smile. “Listen, I’m so sorry for being late. I know you wanted to talk, and I did too but-.”

“Who said we still don’t have the chance to talk?” He questioned with a skeptical look. “I’ve got all the time in the world when it comes to you, darling.”

Y/N sighed, inwardly melting at his choice of words but also becoming completely overrun with nerves all of a sudden.

“I don’t even know where to start, H.”

“Then let me start,” he said and stepped towards her. “Leaving you last year was a huge mistake on my part. I knew how you felt and had come to terms with how I felt as well, but then when I got here and saw you standing under the tree like you are now, I chickened out.”

“Wait, what?” She asked surprised. “You were here?”

“I was,” he nodded and pointed to a corner of a nearby building. “When I got here, I was already so late. There were still a lot of people around and I didn’t even think I’d find you. But then I saw you standing pretty much right where you are now. You were completely mesmerized by the tree, just taking it all in like you do every year. I remember you saying beforehand how much you loved the ornaments they used because of how pretty they were. They’re different this year.”

“So that’s what seemed off about the tree this year,” she replied and glanced back at it. “That was uhm, very observant of you. But if you came all this way, why didn’t you tell me you were here?”

“Like I said, I got scared,” he answered and immediately captured her attention again. “Seeing you was when it hit me. It was when I realized just how much I love you.”

Her breath hitched at his words, and she could feel a blush forming on her cheeks that most definitely wasn’t just from the cold air, but she played it off quickly as she stepped towards him and smacked his arm. “Why didn’t you say anything!?”

“I didn’t know how! I panicked…”

“What did you panic about if you knew I felt the same?”

“I was worried about what I’d put you through,” he explained with a sigh. “M’not an easy person to be in a relationship with Y/N. I’m either coming or going all the time, and as much as I’d love to just stay in one place; it’s very hard to do that sometimes. You have your whole life here and I thought I’d interfere with that.”

“You’re stupid sometimes, you know that? I wouldn’t have cared about that, Harry.” She told him while shaking his head. “How would we know things would or wouldn’t work out if we didn’t try?”

“That’s exactly what I thought after I left. I immediately regretted leaving you there, but I thought it’d be easier that way. I know you despise confrontation as much as I do, and it just seemed easier at the time. Once I was gone, I was terrified that you’d want nothing to do with me and hated the thought of losing you over me being a coward, but I didn’t lose you. You were always still there even after I did something so shitty, and honestly, it made those feels I had grow more intense.”

“But you still didn’t say anything.”

“When we first started… you know... seeing each other again at the end of summer, I wanted to,” he stated. “But I still couldn’t figure out how. After me just leaving you last year, I didn’t think you’d want anything more than what we were doing. I was just glad to be with you and was willing to take whatever I could get, and those feelings all came crashing back. Then yesterday when you were over, I thought maybe I’d finally admit how I felt then; but you left and I thought I lost my chance.”

“So then you wanted to tell me today?” She asked softly. “And I basically stood you up.”

“No, I didn’t think that at all,” he told her while brushing away a snowflake that landed on her cheek. “When you texted me saying you were running late, I still waited around. But then it was getting chilly so I walked down the street to a little pub so I could warm up a bit. You were there.”

“Wait, so you saw…”

“And heard everything,” he nodded. “I don’t need to hear about that other guy cause thinking of how he treated you back there will piss me off. I was about to step in to be completely honest, but I should’ve known you could handle yourself.”

“Gee thanks,” she chuckled and shook her head. “But that also means you heard me say-.”

“That you’ve fallen for me? Yeah, I liked hearing that part. Made me less nervous about my want to do this.”

Without another word, he leaned down to place the most delicate kiss on her lips. There was no hungry lust behind it like there had been when they had kissed before, just pure admiration and affection; Y/N melted into it right away.

She pouted a little bit when he moved away, but then he pulled her into a tight embrace and instantly felt better. The two of them stood there for a moment, just basking in each other’s presence; her cuddling into his chest and him resting his head on top of hers as they swayed to the music that still played. It was a quiet song, the ending instrumentals of it played before the upbeat intro of the Jonas Brothers’ Like It’s Christmas started playing and Harry started chuckling.

“What’s so funny?” Y/N asked as she pulled away slightly to look up at him.

“Nothing,” he smirked and leaned down to give her another peck. “It’s just that you really do make every day feel like it’s Christmas.”

“You’re so sappy.”

“Don’t act like you don’t love it.”

“I guess I do,” she told him honestly as he linked his hand with hers and started leading her away from the tree. “Where are we going?”

“Home. Want to spend this Christmas with yeh.”

“I like the sound of that,” she replied while cuddling up against him as they began their trek home.

The two of them made it back to Harry’s flat and neither of them could stop smiling. They just loved the feeling of finally being together properly and although Y/N was set on not falling in love during Christmas again, this time around she wasn’t worried about him not being there the following year, or all the ones after that too.

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfic #harry styles writing #harry styles preferences #1dff #harry styles x y/n

[crygimethydgoode]

Lover’s Fantasia Chapter 4 (Crystal Methyd x Gigi Goode RPDR12) New York

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32286397/chapters/80839384

Summary: February 2020 brings Crystal and Gigi to Las Vegas for the season 12 premiere, and New York City for press week. Meanwhile in Amsterdam, Crystal and Gigi are learning to trust each other again. 

but for you darling id do it all again

July 9th, 2021

Amsterdam

“You know... a year ago I would’ve killed for this with Crystal,” Gigi whispered on FaceTime with Symone.

“Oh, believe me, I know,” Symone laughed, and Gigi couldn’t help but smile.

“But it’s... it’s not what I thought it would be like. You know?” Gigi asked. Symone just cocked her head, waiting for her to continue. “The little weekends we had together were so desperate and fleeting. We felt like we had to make the most out of every minute because that’s all we had. But now we... well- it feels like we have all the time in the world here. And we’re just... taking our time. Becoming friends again. I think... trusting each other again. I don’t know. There’s no pressure. It’s just us in Amsterdam. It’s nice,” Gigi explained. “Don’t tell Hunter,” she added, and Symone started to laugh.

“Oh you know I won’t! You could tell him though. He won’t be mad,” Symone said.

“I know,” Gigi sighed. “He’d just be… I don’t wanna worry him.  I’ll tell him when there’s something to actually tell him, you know? Right now, me and Crystal are just learning to exist together.”

“Right,” Symone nodded. “Well, Rosy and I are happy for you. We’re glad you’re getting a second chance. And you know Gigi, while being with Crystal again isn’t what you imagined, that might be a good thing. Maybe this will be even better.” Symone said softly, and Gigi hated that her chest ached, hated that her stomach was fluttering. Hated that she felt hopeful again for something with Crystal. When she voiced this to Symone, she was met with a sympathetic smile.

“I can’t imagine how confused you must be. I mean- you two have a lot of history. A lot of shit you’ve gotta work through. And that’s okay. Okay?” Symone tried to stay positive, smiling sweetly.

“Okay,” Gigi whispered. “I just don’t wanna get my heart broken. Again. You know?”

“I know,” Symone said softly, and there were tears in both of their eyes. Old habits die hard. “You look out for yourself. Always put your happiness and well-being first, always. You’re too smart, too strong, too beautiful. You are Gigi Mothafuckin Goode! You’ve got this baby.”

“I’ve got this,” Gigi’s voice cracked, and she swore there were happy tears in her eyes. “I miss you,” she whispered. “Anyways. Crystal, Jaida, and I are going to a sexy leather club tonight, so I’ve gotta go. I love you, bye!” Gigi hung up and started to get ready for the night.

Apparently, Jaida had found a section in Michelle’s Amsterdam guidebook talking all about these gay bars where everyone was clad in leather and heavy piercings, and she insisted on everyone going. Michelle declined, using the time to FaceTime with her husband and daughters, who would hopefully be coming to visit soon. Gigi was hesitant to accept as well, but Crystal and Jaida were both so excited, and she didn’t wanna miss out. Besides, the guys will be sexy, Gigi will be drunk, and Crystal will be... Crystal. Why not?.

So Gigi got ready and went down to the coffeeshop to wait for Crystal and Jaida, hovering by the door. Then she felt her phone buzzing and looked down to see Jaida calling her.

“Hello?” Gigi said into the phone. She immediately had to pull it away from her ear, the pounding music was so loud.

“GIIIIIGIIIIII IM DRUNK!” Jaida screamed, and Gigi let out a small laugh.

“I can hear that,” she chuckled.

“I'M STILL GONNA COME TO THE LEATHER BAR, BUT NOT FOR ANOTHER LIKE... HOUR AND... LIKE AN HOUR AND A... NOT MORE THAN TWO HOURS! I DON'T KNOW! I’LL MEET YOU THERE, I PROMISE! I LOVE YOU!” Jaida yelled, and hung up without getting a response from Gigi.

“Okay then,” Gigi said to no one, putting her phone back in her pocket.

“What?” Crystal said, coming down the stairs. Gigi tried not to look at her for too long, admiring her mullet that had been piled into a messy bun on her head.

“Jaida is at some club, she’ll meet us in a couple hours,” Gigi explained, giving Crystal a knowing grin. “I like the hair, by the way. Very main character of you,” she couldn’t help but add, and her grin only got wider when Crystal let out a loud laugh, leading them outside.

“I want my look to scream ‘my mom sold me to be One Direction’s sex slave’, you know?” Crystal quipped as they began to walk down the bustling Amsterdam street.

“‘Ello luv, I’m Harry. We can do this the easy way or the hard way,” Gigi said in her best Harry Styles voice, and they laughed the rest of the way to the club, reminiscing about all the shitty One Direction fanfiction they read in 2012. And then they arrived at the club, and Gigi’s smile immediately fell from her face. “Oh,” she whispered. “This place looks...” she trailed off.

“Scary,” Crystal said, and Gigi quickly agreed. The place in Michelle’s guidebook had unfortunately closed due to COVID-19. So Crystal looked up “Leather gay Amsterdam” on Google and they just walked to the first address. But Google maps took them down three different narrow side alleys, into a side of town neither of them had been to. The street was dimly lit, and Gigi couldn’t help but feel like Harry Potter in the second movie, walking past all the dark wizards in Knockturn Alley. Weird example. It was scary. “So should we- should we go in?” Crystal asked, voice small.

“I guess,” Gigi replied, completely unsure of herself. And so they went into the bar together. Once they got through security and were inside, the first thing Gigi was able to process was the music pounding through her ears, making the floor vibrate. The second thing Gigi noticed was Crystal tightly clinging to her, and Gigi knew she was holding Crystal back just as tight.

“Are you okay?” Crystal yelled into Gigi’s ear. The music was so loud, Gigi could still hardly hear her. “Do you feel safe? We can leave if you want to,” Crystal said, and if Gigi weren’t so scared, her heart would’ve melted.

“Do you want to leave? Are you okay?” Gigi asked.

“I’m asking YOU if YOU’RE okay,” Crystal retorted, and now they were both smiling, despite the glowering man who was standing in the corner of the room with a whip.

“Well, I’m okay. Are YOU okay?” Gigi asked.

“Yes! I’m good. If you’re fine, I’m fine,” Crystal said and held out her hand. Gigi took it, putting on her bravest face. They decided to go to the bar, knowing they wouldn’t get through the night sober. Three tequila shots and two Rum and Cokes each later, Crystal and Gigi were getting less and less nervous about the club. Everyone was actually really nice, and the bartender was funny and knowledgeable about all things Amsterdam. Needless to say, Gigi was actually enjoying her night. Until some ripped, picture perfect dreamboat came up besides Crystal, immediately starting to chat her up, complimenting her hair and outfit, and- no way he just had the audacity to comment on her ass in those jeans. And Crystal was- fucking blushing. Great. Gigi sat rigid at the bar, staring directly at the wall ahead of her, refusing to look in Crystal’s direction. Gigi knew she had no claim over Crystal, knew Crystal had every right to be flirting with this guy. But it didn’t mean Gigi had to be happy about it. And then she heard the dreaded words.

“So... Can I buy you a drink?” The man asked Crystal. Gigi could feel Crystal’s eyes on her, knew that she could see the way Gigi’s shoulders had tensed up, the way Gigi was waiting with bated breath to see what Crystal would say.

“Oh uh... no thanks. I’m good with my friend here. It was nice meeting you though! Have a good night,” Crystal said kindly but firmly. The dude stalked off, but Gigi remained staring at the wall, trying to seem disinterested in everything. She could hear Crystal saying something, but pretended not to hear, instead drinking some random hard cider that the bartender put in front of them. “Gigi!” Crystal exclaimed, nudging her shoulder.

“Wha...?” Gigi said, trying to act clueless, faking a yawn. But she knew. “Did your boy toy leave?” Gigi asked nonchalantly, and Crystal was trying to hold back her laughter, and utterly failing. “Shut up,” Gigi giggled, and they were both laughing now, drinks in hand. “I’m surprised you rejected him. He was hot,” Gigi said once she was able to collect herself. Crystal gave her a funny look, slowly sipping her drink.

“Gigi... with everything going on... how could I be interested in him?” Crystal asked, and what the fuck did that mean? Maybe it meant that they were too busy in Amsterdam to worry about hooking up with random Dutch dudes. Or maybe it meant that Crystal wasn’t looking for anything like that with anyone, and she was just trying to focus on herself this summer.

Or maybe, just maybe, it meant that Crystal still wanted Gigi. Maybe Crystal wasn’t going to break her heart after all. Or maybe they were both just drunk and Gigi was reading into things too much. She never got the chance to ask that night, because right then, Jaida ran up to Crystal and Gigi, obviously plastered.

“HEEEEEEEYYYYYYYYYY BITCHES!”

February 2020

Las Vegas

“We’re in Vegas bitches!!!” Jan screamed. Everyone cheered along with her. Finally, season 12 of Drag Race was premiering and the whole cast was reunited in Vegas. It also just so happened to be the first time Gigi saw Crystal since November.

“I’m trying to get over her, I am,” Gigi said to Hunter one day after scrolling through old pictures and videos of her and Crystal in L.A.

“You set yourself up for failure, Geege. You’re not gonna get over Crystal if you’re driving to Venice Beach with her at three in the morning.” Hunter was right. Gigi was trying to get over Crystal, but deep down, she didn’t want to. Because why would she want to? After all, Crystal was… Crystal.

“Well it’s not like I can avoid her, she’s one of my best friends and-” Gigi paused, biting the inside of her cheek. “And when I’m with her all my common sense just goes out the window,” Gigi felt Hunter’s stare but didn’t look up at him.

“When do you have to see her next?” Hunter asked.

“The premiere, in Vegas,” Gigi said, heart dropping just thinking about seeing Crystal again.

“Great. I’ll come with you,” Hunter said.

“What?”

“I’ll come with you, I will come babysit you and make sure you don’t do anything dumb like sneak out of the hotel in the middle of the night and walk the strip with Crystal,” Hunter explained. “I also just really want to go to Vegas.” Gigi was offended at first, she could take care of herself, but then she realized it truly wasn’t the worst idea.

“Okay,” Gigi agreed. And so the two boarded their plane to Vegas.

“What are you not going to do?” Hunter asked as they walked to the restaurant everyone was meeting at on the Vegas strip.

“I’m not going to do anything that could make me fall for Crystal-”

“Gigi!” Just then Widow, Heidi, and Crystal, who were also walking towards the restaurant from the opposite direction, spotted Gigi and Hunter. Everything Hunter had told Gigi on the plane ride left Gigi’s head because there was Crystal.

There was Crystal, who was running to Gigi, completely leaving Heidi and Widow in the dust. And Gigi couldn’t see anything else but Crystal, running towards her at full speed as Gigi felt her feet start running towards Crystal too. They collided, and the world was suddenly screaming in color once again.

“I missed you,” Crystal whispered, and Gigi melted into the hug. Hunter couldn’t even be mad at Gigi, he just ran up and pulled Crystal into a hug of his own before they all entered the restaurant together.

But now they were on the party bus, with all of the girls from season 12. Gigi sat between Hunter and Crystal, which sort of felt like having an angel and a devil on each shoulder. She wasn’t sure who was which.

It didn’t take long for Crystal and Gigi to slip into their old ways. Sitting together, Crystal’s shoulders and legs pressed against Gigi’s, both of them giggling messes. “Canoodling” is what Jackie had called it when she would tease them in the vans.

“Why am I not surprised?” Jackie joked, pointing a finger at Crystal and Gigi, who both were blushing. Hunter gave Gigi a subtle nudge.  

‘You’re setting yourself up for disaster’ she reminded herself.

“Crystal, why didn’t you bring Paul? We’re all dying to meet him,” Jan said. Gigi clenched her jaw, Hunter gave her a look. Crystal let out an awkward chuckle.

“Someone had to stay home and watch Tictak,” Crystal said.

“Don’t your parents live in the same town? Couldn’t they watch your cat?” Jaida said, stirring her drink.

“Uhm-”

“Alright ladies, we all know Paul is really shy, let's move on,” Widow said. Crystal let out a sigh of relief.

“I agree because I have a few more questions for you two,” Jaida continued, crossing her legs and turning to Crystal and Gigi. Gigi felt as if they were being interrogated. “We all know you had your get together in November. We all saw you two cuddling in the back of those vans, or in the Werkroom, or the green room. We just wanna know if there’s a little something going on, that’s all,” Jaida said. Gigi’s breath hitched in the back of her throat. Luckily, Hunter jumped in.

“Believe me, I was with these two in LA. The only thing they did was try not to fall while dancing,” Hunter joked. Everyone started laughing and Gigi hoped that was the end of it all.

Of course, it wasn’t.

“So you guys haven’t even like... kissed or anything?” Jan asked.

“You meddling fuckin kids,” Widow murmured under her breath. Gigi’s face was burning, could they tell? They could definitely tell.

“No?” Crystal said.

“Kiss...kiss...kiss...” Rock M. started chanting. Fuck. Dahlia, Nicky, and Aiden joined in. Of course, Brita, the loudest one there, had to start too. Suddenly everyone was chanting “kiss” like they were in high school and playing spin the bottle. Gigi looked at Crystal, ready to spill out an apology and say they didn’t have to kiss. But much to Gigi’s surprise, Crystal was laughing along with them.

She looked at Gigi and shrugged. Gigi looked back at Hunter who gave her the look he always gave right before she was about to do something dumb. He was clutching Gigi’s arm, his eyes screaming “Don’t you fucking dare,” Gigi just looked back at Crystal, a grin on her face. Gigi removed Hunter’s hand from her wrist, and grabbed Crystal by the waist.

“OH FUCK THEY’RE ACTUALLY DOING IT!” Heidi cackled. Crystal put her hand on Gigi’s face, leaned in, and kissed Gigi. It was soft, light, and utterly perfect despite being surrounded by their season 12 sisters. The kiss lasted a second too long, lingering. Lighting coursed through Gigi, who couldn’t even hear the eruption of cheers, she just fought the urge to kiss Crystal again. Crystal pulled away, giggling but blushing. Jan, Jaida, and Jackie waved their fingers together in the middle of the bus. Gigi could feel Hunter’s pointed stare but didn’t care all that much because she just kissed Crystal Elizabeth Methyd. And god, it was fucking magical and the only thing Gigi wanted to do for the rest of her life. Crystal buried her head in the crook of Gigi’s neck, face burning.

“That’s Vegas, baby!”

Amsterdam

“This is the best idea I’ve ever had!” Crystal giggled, walking through Jaida’s apartment door with all of her and Gigi’s makeup. After passing around a bottle of Dutch Gin, Crystal suddenly suggested that she and Gigi do Michelle’s makeup, each of them getting 1/2 of Michelle’s face.

“Y’all have fun, I’m gonna keep dancing!” Jaida cackled as she danced to the non-existent music. “I fuckin love this song!” Gigi just laughed, mind extremely foggy. She hadn’t drunk that much, had she? The bottle was passed so many times she lost track around her fifth swig. All Gigi knew was that Crystal was glowing. She had been staring at her all night, and really didn’t mind if Crystal noticed. Who cares? Gigi was in Amsterdam, and the only voice of reason in her life was time zones away.

“Okay! Michelle, I am going to do the classic Crystal Elizabeth Methyd face. Gigi?” Crystal prompted, a wild grin on her face.

“I’m... I’m gonna make you orange,” Gigi giggled, pouring out way too much foundation onto the back of her hand. “Shit.” Gigi just smeared it onto Michelle’s face. “Hope you don’t like that shirt too much.”

“My turn!” Crystal took her foundation stick and began to smear it all over Michelle’s face. Michelle couldn’t hold back her laughter.

“How were you two the runners up?” She laughed, causing everyone to start laughing.

“Because Ru is obsessed with me and Gigi is talented,” Crystal giggled.

“Hey! You’re both talented. My daughters came for my fucking head when I read you for your makeup,” Michelle said.

“Oh shit you're a mom, that’s right! What’s that like?” Jaida asked, now dancing with a houseplant.

“Well, it’s a pain in the ass. But I like to think my two girls turned out okay,” Michelle laughed. “No, it’s rough. You know I’m honest...”

“We know!” Jaida, Crystal, and Gigi all said.

“Shut up you bitches! As I was saying, it sucks sometimes. You try to know what’s best for them when in reality half the time you don’t know what’s best for yourself. One day everything’s fine and the next they hate you, and you don’t even know what you did wrong. And all you can do is replay your conversations in your head trying to figure out what you could’ve possibly said to strike a nerve like that. But it’s worth it, you know? I love my daughters more than anything, they truly are my world. It’s worth it,” Michelle said, and Gigi wasn’t even paying attention to what makeup she was doing on Michelle. She was watching Crystal, who was smiling softly while listening to Michelle talk about her daughters.

“And of course, my husband is the fucking best. Seriously, I could not do it without him. He’s the cool dad. Like, when the girls don’t want to talk to me they’ll go complain to him and he’ll try to explain it all to them, that I probably wasn’t trying to be a bitch. I’ll go to them, I’ll apologize, and we’ll move on. The same thing with my husband. It’s not worth it to linger on petty little fights, it’s not, because what’s the point? You’re mad at me, I’m mad at you, then we never talk about it? I hate that shit.” Gigi desperately tried not to look at Crystal, heart in her throat. “It’s a waste of time ladies, don’t stay mad at the people who matter the most. Especially when you’re supposed to be raising two teenagers with that person,” Michelle laughed. Gigi looked over at Crystal against her better judgment. Gigi had never wanted kids, ever. Mostly because she wasn't sure if she would ever find the right person to have kids with. But as Gigi watched Crystal gently blend Michelle’s makeup, being as careful as possible to not get it in her eyes, it didn’t seem like the craziest idea. Gigi added that to the list of things NOT to tell Hunter when she called him tomorrow. She focused back on doing Michelle’s makeup, which didn’t look all too bad, mostly because Gigi was drunk.

“Gigi, what the fuck are you doing to Michelle’s face?” Jaida asked. Gigi hadn’t realized, but she heavily contoured Michelle using an orange eyeshadow. Her eyes were orange, her cheeks were orange, her lips were orange- Michelle was basically completely orange.

“I-Uhm- I did the Crystal Methyd... Method, if you will and tried to be a little more abstract,” Gigi tried to defend the monstrosity that was Michelle’s makeup.

“She looks like Donald Trump!” Crystal giggled.

“Am I really drunk or does Crystal’s side actually look good?”

“Oh Jaida, I have done my makeup drunk so many times, it’s easy,” Crystal said.

“Okay, well, can y’all be done? I’m getting tired of dancing alone, this houseplant can only make me feel so much,” Jaida said. And so they all got up and danced with Jaida, sans music. And when Crystal wrapped her arms around Gigi’s neck, and Gigi held Crystal by the waist, swaying side to side, she couldn’t fight back her smile.

“What?” Crystal asked, a smile also growing on her face.

“Nothing, c’mere,” Gigi whispered, her hand finding its way into Crystal’s curls. Her phone buzzed. Hunter.

“Tell Hunter to shut up,” Crystal chuckled. So Gigi put her phone in the empty coffee pot, not sure what else to do. She returned to Crystal’s side after a moment, who was looking out Jaida’s window at the shining street below them. And Gigi knew better than to reach out and grab Crystal’s hand, but she did. And a certain line was crossed. A line Gigi was desperately trying to avoid crossing. A line that Gigi had blurred before, a line that maybe had always been blurred. There was no coming back from this, there never was, was there? Crystal squeezed Gigi’s hand.

“I don’t know if I can walk up all those stairs,” Crystal whispered.

“If...if we crawl into Jaida’s bed... maybe she’ll go crawl into ours,” Gigi suggested.

“Gigi Goode. You’re a genius.” And so they tiptoed across the living room, as if Jaida wasn’t only a few feet away, and crawled into her bed. Gigi pulled the covers over their heads, hoping Crystal couldn’t see her blushing. “Goodnight,” she murmured.

“Goodnight,” Gigi said, but neither of them made any move to go to sleep just yet.

“Gigi?”

“Yeah?”

“Remember your first night in New York? With Jan and Jackie?” Crystal asked. Gigi tried to make out her expression in the darkness.

“Yeah. Yeah, I remember,” Gigi whispered.

“Yeah, me too. I miss it.” Crystal rolled over, leaving Gigi with nothing yet everything to say. Gigi sat there for a moment, not sure if she had struck a nerve, or hurt Crystal in some way.  But then Crystal grabbed Gigi’s arm, lacing it around her waist, lines blurred.

February 2020

New York City

Hunter had suggested that Gigi fly into New York later at night.

“Why?” Rosy asked.

“Because if you fly in later, you won’t have to see Crystal-” Hunter began to explain.

“Why wouldn’t she want to see Crystal?” Symone chimed in.

“I just think it’s best that you try to see Crystal as little as possible during press week,” Hunter said.

“But... but why?” Rosy asked again. Gigi watched as Hunter grew more and more frustrated.

“Because when Gigi is with Crystal she does dumb shit like kissing her,” Hunter shot Gigi a piercing look. He still hadn’t dropped it. Gigi couldn’t really blame him though, she never did listen to Hunter.

“I don’t think it’s a bad thing,” Rosy butted in. “Please explain to me how that’s a bad thing.”

“Because Crystal has a boyfriend-”

“Okay! I’ll fly in later, it’s fine,” Gigi interrupted, desperately wanting to end the conversation. Besides, there was no reason to start another fight with Hunter after she literally kissed Crystal right in front of him.

And so Gigi arrived at the JFK airport at 10 pm and took an Uber to the hotel. She decided that Hunter was right. It was better that Gigi tried to avoid Crystal as much as possible this week, because every time she saw Crystal in person, it just made her miss her more when they inevitably had to go home.

This was for the best. This was for the best. This was for the -

“Gigiiiiiiii.”

What was that?

“Gigiiiiiiii,” A faint voice called from down the hall. Gigi heard the sound of footsteps running down the hallway.

“Crystal! Slow down!” Another voice called.

Then Gigi heard an all too familiar knock, and her heart was in her throat. And though Gigi knew Hunter would be pissed, she grinned as she ran to the door. She opened the door and there Crystal stood, eyes glossy, cheeks flushed. She was obviously drunk.

“Gigi!” Crystal jumped into Gigi’s arms, Gigi could smell the alcohol on her.

“Hi!” Gigi laughed, holding Crystal close.

“Hello! God, I missed you.”

How many times have they said that to each other now? Countless times over the phone in the dead of night, at the airport, in Vegas.

“I missed you too.”

“Crystal? CRYSTAL?!” Gigi heard someone calling. Moments later, Jan walked by.

“She’s in here, Jan!” Gigi called. Jan entered the room, her frustrated expression immediately disappearing when she saw Crystal and Gigi in their embrace.

“I turned around for one minute and she was asking the front desk what your room number was– She also had three Margaritas,” Jan said, walking into the room. Crystal finally released Gigi from her hug, and Gigi didn’t want to admit how cold she felt. Luckily, Crystal held onto Gigi’s arm, resting her head on her shoulder. “Well! It’s your first night in New York, we oughta do something,” Jan said, plopping down on one of the chairs in the hotel room.

“I could do your makeup!” Crystal giggled. And Gigi felt as all the walls she spent the past three weeks building up crumbled to the floor yet again.

“Oh my god! Jackie was coming to meet us here anyway. She got this god-awful wig yesterday, I’ll have her bring it!” Jan squealed, already whipping out her phone to text Jackie. Okay. This was happening. And Gigi couldn’t be mad about it.

“Fuck it,” she said. Crystal cheered.

“Okay! I’ll go get my stuff!” Crystal ran to the conjoined door in Gigi’s room.

“Is your room next to mine?” Gigi asked.

“Of course, where else would it be?” Crystal giggled. Gigi let out an exasperated laugh. Of course. Moments later, Crystal returned with all her makeup. All. Her. Makeup.

“Jackie is on her way!” Jan announced. Crystal sat Gigi down on the bed, they sat facing each other, legs crossed. Gigi felt her heart pounding as Crystal held Gigi’s face in her hands, smearing on the foundation. Sometimes, Gigi would catch Crystal’s eye as she was blending out her foundation, and Crystal would fight back a smile. Gigi was sober, but she felt light headed. Crystal’s hands gently tilted Gigi’s face in a thousand different directions, before letting out a frustrated sigh.

“What’s wrong?” Gigi asked.

“I can’t get the right angle...” Crystal whined.

“Have her lay down,” Jan tried to offer casually, but Gigi could hear the mischief in her voice.

“Smart! Gigi lay down,” Crystal said. Without thinking, Gigi laid back on the bed. This was fine. Gigi was fine. Crystal Methyd was just inches away from Gigi’s face, leaning over her as she laid in bed. Crystal was still clearly frustrated. “One second, I’m not messing up this eyeliner.” Without any warning, Crystal kneeled on the bed before throwing a leg over Gigi’s torso, straddling her. She lost her balance in the process, so Gigi grabbed the side of her legs to steady her.

“Thanks,” Crystal blushed. Gigi couldn’t find the power to rip her hands away. God, was it only three weeks ago when they kissed on the party bus? Why did it feel so long ago? And why did Crystal keep smiling at Gigi like that? Gigi’s heart was in her throat as she held her breath. She had seen Crystal up close before, of course, but this was so different. Crystal made this funny face when she focused. Her eyes squinting, her lips pressed together tightly, brow furrowed. Gigi found herself grinning without even realizing it.

“What?” Crystal asked, a smile tugging at her lips. Gigi started giggling.

“You make a face when you’re focused, it’s cute,” Gigi admitted, chest burning. She ignored Jan’s gasp from across the room. Gigi had forgotten Jan was even there, sorry Jan.

Crystal sat up straight, placing a hand on Gigi’s chest. Dear God, please let her heart stop pounding.

“Well, you’re making a face too,” Crystal said, leaning in close to Gigi's lips.

“Oh really?” Gigi cocked an eyebrow, “what face am I making?”

“I... I don’t know how to describe it...” Crystal whispered. She was too close.

“Your eyes are shining,” Jan called. Thankfully, someone knocked on the door. Jan ran to let Jackie in.

“Jesus Christ, what did I miss?” Jackie said, seeing Crystal straddling Gigi.

“A lot,” they all responded. Crystal finished up Gigi’s makeup quickly but hesitated before climbing off.

“I have this stunning wig for you!” Jackie waved around the gigantic red wig she had brought. “Okay, done!” she said after pinning the wig. Crystal clasped her hands over Gigi’s eyes and walked her to the mirror. When Gigi saw herself in the mirror, she immediately burst out laughing. Of course, Crystal had painted her like a clown.

“Now we’re both clown queens!!!” Crystal giggled, leaning on Gigi’s shoulder. Gigi’s chest burned, and she saw Jan and Jackie whispering to each other out of the corner of her eye. “Smile Gigi!” Crystal said, snapping a picture and posting it. The four of them ended up spending the night on Gigi’s bed, laughing until 2 am. Crystal fell asleep on top of Gigi, and Jackie and Jan took that as their queue to leave. Gigi didn’t bother to wake Crystal up, just tucking her in under the covers and laying down with her. Gigi’s phone buzzed 3 times.

Hunter : I don’t even know what to say.

Rosy : HAHAHAHAH FUCK HUNTER YOU’RE DOING GREAT SWEETIE

Symone : Rosy and Hunter are fighting again. Please come home soon.

Gigi just turned off her phone and tried to sync her breathing with Crystals, wondering where the sun would find them in the morning.

Amsterdam

It was the sun cutting through Jaida’s window that ultimately woke Gigi up. She was instantly greeted with a splitting headache. What happened last night? Why was she in Jaida’s bed? Why was Crystal wrapped in her arms? Gigi saw the empty bottle of Dutch gin on the floor next to the bed. Oh. So that’s what happened last night.

Memories of the night before came flooding back. Jaida and Crystal dancing around the apartment, Crystal and Gigi doing Michelle’s makeup- god, where was Michelle? She probably went to her apartment. It was easier to walk across the hall than up another flight of stairs.

Gigi reluctantly unwrapped her arms from around Crystal and tried to ignore the sudden chills running over her body. It didn’t take long for Gigi to locate her phone which was left in an empty coffee pot. She had a few texts from Hunter but ignored them. He probably wasn’t awake anyway. Gigi desperately searched Jaida’s drawers for anything that could get rid of her awful headache.

“Who needs this many gummy vitamins?” she whispered to herself, pushing bottles to the side. Nothing.

“Gigi...” a groggy voice called. Gigi turned around to see Crystal stretching her arms out towards her. And for a moment, Gigi’s hangover disappeared. She walked back to the bed, sitting down next to Crystal. Crystal wrapped her arms around Gigi, burying her face in Gigi’s neck. And Gigi’s heart dropped, when was the last time she had done that? “Why is it so bright in here?” Crystal murmured into Gigi’s neck.

“Because we’re really hungover,” Gigi chuckled.

“Oh...oh yeah. We are, aren’t we? My head hurts,” Crystal whined. Gigi’s hand found its way into Crystal’s curls.

“I couldn’t find any ibuprofen, and I don’t know if it’s safe to drink the tap water here-”

“The drinking water in Amsterdam is like a delicacy,” Crystal told Gigi.

“How do you know that?”

“I obviously did research before I came here.”

“But you didn’t know that weed was legal?”

“I thought it was illegal in Europe...”

“Holy shit. And you didn’t sneak any-”

“I thought I could do a tolerance break or something. Shut up,” Crystal giggled. Gigi’s hand was still in her hair. Crystal’s arms were still wrapped around Gigi. And in the deep depths of Gigi’s brain, she wished they could just sit like this forever. And then Crystal was looking up at Gigi, a soft smile on her face, and Gigi couldn’t rip her eyes away. “How do you look so pretty hungover?” Crystal asked. Gigi’s heart dropped. She was just hungover, maybe she was even still a little drunk, but Gigi’s face was burning.

“Help...” a voice called.

“Shit. I forgot about Jaida,” Gigi said, immediately standing up. Thank god for Jaida.

“I’m in the bathroom!” Jaida groaned. Gigi and Crystal walked in to find Jaida laying in her bathtub. “I... I think I wanted to go swimming last night but fell asleep trying to turn on the faucet.” Gigi and Crystal both laughed despite their headaches.

“Scoot over,” Gigi said. Jaida made room for Gigi and Crystal to join her in the bathtub. Gigi couldn’t help but blush as she tangled her legs with Crystal’s. Jaida and Crystal both rested their heads on Gigi’s shoulders.

“I’m never drinking again,” Jaida whispered. Gigi scoffed.

“That’s what we said last weekend.” And they all burst out laughing, the cool tile against their backs making the hangover a little more tolerable. Gigi knew in a few minutes she would have to get up and start her day. Gigi and Crystal would have to crawl their way up to their apartments, and it would suck. Gigi would have to call Hunter and lie when he asks if she had been hanging out with Crystal. And Gigi would feel guilty, but not that guilty.

In a few minutes, they would have to get up and start their day, but for now, Gigi just sat sandwiched between Jaida and Crystal, and it was enough. The sound of the door opening snapped them all out of their trance.

“Jaida? Are you dead?” Michelle called.

“We’re in here!” Crystal said. Michelle entered the bathroom, also looking like a complete mess.

“I’m too old to sit in a fuckin tub” Michelle muttered, sitting on the toilet seat again. “We’re never drinking again,” she whispered, and Gigi, Jaida, and Crystal all started laughing.

“Stop making me laugh! It makes my head hurt worse...” Crystal laughed.

“God, Jaida, why did you even have us come to Amsterdam anyway?” Gigi joked.

“It wasn’t even her idea,” Michelle laughed.

“What?”

“Yeah, it was Widow’s idea actually,” Jaida admitted. Gigi’s jaw dropped. Of course.

New York City

The crowd erupted in cheers after Crystal finished performing “Womanizer” by Britney Spears. Gigi was sitting with Widow, who just so happened to bring her dab pen. Needless to say, Gigi was just a little bit fucked up. She and Widow had just returned to their seats after running up to the stage to give Crystal tips, and Gigi couldn’t stop smiling, and Widow could see right through her.

Granted, it wasn’t hard. Gigi could only imagine what she looked like. Starstruck. Crystal had completely entranced her yet again, and it was getting harder and harder to try to cover it up. Crystal ran back to Gigi and Widow, grinning.

“How’d I do?” She asked, trying to catch her breath.

“Absolutely amazing,” Widow said.

“You were fucking radiant, Crystal Elizabeth Methyd,” Gigi giggled, she could feel Widow watching her like she was trying to understand Gigi.

“I know! I just wanted to hear it from you guys,” Crystal said, and then “I’m gonna go to the bathroom to get out of drag, I’ll be right back!”

“Do you need help?” Gigi asked, already standing up, knees wobbling a bit. Shit, maybe Gigi was higher than she thought.

“Not so fast Miss Goode, I want to chat with you a bit,” Widow said, helping Gigi down into her seat. Widow was also crossed, she had bought her and Gigi both a few drinks along with sharing her dab pen. Widow was basically the best.

“Oh-okay,” Crystal said before skipping off to the bathroom. Gigi turned to Widow.

“What did you want to talk about?” she asked, stirring her drink.

“Listen, you’re not fuckin subtle. We all see how you look at Crystal. It’s cute. Jan, Jackie, and Jaida eat that shit up,” Widow started.

“I don’t-”

“Gigi. Don’t even try...” Widow trailed off.

“It’s just a crush,” Gigi whispered, but it sounded like she was trying to convince herself more than Widow. “Besides, she has Paul, so it’s kind of hopeless,” she added. Widow shifted and opened her mouth as if she was about to say something, then closed it. Gigi turned to her, pleading for her to say something, anything.

“Look-” Widow began. “Crystal has been a friend to me for many years, I’d like to say I know her pretty well. And... and I’ve met Paul, and he’s a great fucking guy. He’s funny, he’s kind, he treats Crystal well-”

“Yes, this is comforting,” Gigi deadpanned.

“Let me fucking finish,” Widow laughed. “Because Paul... Paul is just Paul. But Gigi, you are just you. ..”

“And Crystal is just... Crystal ,” Gigi breathed, words slurring. Widow nodded slowly.

“There’s something that lights up in her when she talks about you. Believe me, I sat next to that bitch on the plane, she talked more about you during that plane ride than I’ve ever heard her talk about PAUL,” Widow just shook her head while studying Gigi. “I don’t think she even knows it yet, Gigi. I don’t. But she will. She’s going to watch the show back and she’s going to realize it, believe me.” Gigi’s entire body was buzzing, she couldn’t even hear all the thoughts running through her head, the only thing she could make out was Widow’s words

But she will. But she will. But she will.

Just then, Crystal came back from the bathroom.

“Okay, so Gigi I just had the craziest idea. I checked Google maps and it’s only like a thirty minute walk to the Empire State Building!” Crystal said, grabbing Widow’s dab pen and taking a hit.

“Didn’t we literally just go there for press?” Widow asked, raising an eyebrow. Crystal just rolled her eyes, playfully glaring at Widow.

“Yeah...but it’s nighttime. And the city is like...brighter at night... and-”

“Okay, you don’t really have to defend yourself. Have fun ladies,” Widow shot Gigi a subtle wink. “You hold onto that dab pen. Be careful with it though, it’s Sativa.”

“You’re the fucking best! Is that a shot? I’m taking it,” Crystal said, downing a shot Widow had just ordered. “Here!” Crystal reached in her pocket and gave Widow some loose $1 bills. She grabbed Gigi’s hand and practically pulled her out of the bar. They were instantly greeted by the stinging cold. “It’s fine! Just a little chilly!” Crystal said, hugging herself.

“Yeah, we-we will warm up once we start walking,” Gigi said, instantly regretting leaving her jacket at the hotel. Gigi felt bad for Crystal who only had her thin-ass pink bomber jacket. They began their walk to the Empire State Building, passing Widow’s pen back and forth, hoping to breathe some warmth into them. But it only made things worse, because the higher they got, the slower they walked, and the longer they walked the colder they got. Gigi’s teeth were chattering, so were Crystal’s. They tried to have conversations, just to keep their lips warm, but nothing was helping.

“G-g-Google maps says we’re halfway there...” Crystal shivered, stopping to check her phone.

“It’s... it’s 1:30, we left the bar at one... we’ve been walking for half an hour, and we’re only halfway there,” Gigi whispered. “That means we have another half an hour to go,” Crystal just whimpered and put her head in the crook of Gigi’s neck. It was freezing, so why was Crystal’s face burning?

“I don’t think I can make it, Gigi. Can we... Can we just go back to the hotel? We can order room service or something... it’s so fucking cold,” Crystal giggled. Gigi just laughed. “What?” Crystal muttered, Gigi felt her smiling into her neck. She suddenly wasn’t as cold.

“I was really worried you were gonna make me walk all the way,” Gigi admitted. Crystal playfully nudged her, taking out her phone.

“Okay... so there’s a train station a few minutes away... and if we take the... yellow one... uptown? There’s a stop that’s right next to our hotel. Okay.” Gigi should’ve known better than to trust Crystal with directions, but she was so cold she didn’t even think to question it. They found the subway station pretty easily, and it only took them ten minutes to figure out how to buy tickets. Finally, they found themselves waiting on the platform, hands shoved deep into their pockets. “I’m sorry,” Crystal said. Gigi turned to look at Crystal, who was looking at her feet.

“Why?” Gigi asked.

“This was supposed to be a fun night... we were supposed to see all the lights and... it was supposed to be a fun night.”

If only Crystal knew. If only she knew that all the lights in the city couldn’t match the way she shone. That Gigi wouldn’t be able to rip her eyes off of Crystal for even one second if they did make it to the Empire State Building. That Gigi would much rather look at Crystal than a stupid skyline any day. If only she knew.

“Hey,” Gigi said instead, grabbing Crystal’s hand. “It was a fun night, any night with you is fun.” God, that was cheesy. Gigi realized it as soon as it left her mouth. But Crystal was grinning, and Gigi grinned right back.

The platform was pretty much empty, only a few other stragglers like Gigi and Crystal stood waiting for the subway. Suddenly, the platform started buzzing as the sound of the train slowly grew closer and closer before halting in front of them.

Crystal and Gigi were instantly greeted with a comfortable warmth that wrapped them both up. Their subway cart was empty, and Crystal refused to sit down. She tried to keep her balance, gripping onto the poles to steady herself. Crystal's eyes were red and squinted, her glasses were barely staying on her face, and her curls were wild from the wind, and she was a sight to behold. Gigi felt as her heart did somersaults.

But she will. But she will. But she will...

The subway jolted forward, and Crystal nearly fell. And for some reason, that looked really fun to Gigi. So Gigi stood up, and also nearly fell. They both erupted into giggles, and soon they were holding onto each other for support along with the poles. And then they were dancing? Or at least trying to dance despite constantly trying to trip over themselves, and Gigi didn’t even realize every time the subway stopped. When the occasional person entered their train cart, they both held back their laughter, shooting each other mischievous looks. Their faces were close, and they were both just grinning at each other as if they should’ve known better.

“Next stop, Coney Island,” the intercom said. Now, Gigi didn’t know much about New York, but she was pretty positive Coney Island was in Brooklyn.

“Umm Crystal, give me your phone,” Gigi said. Crystal, who hadn’t connected the dots, lazily handed Gigi her phone, circling the pole. Gigi checked Google Maps, they were heading in the opposite direction of the hotel. She looked at the map in their subway cart, praying that she was wrong. Of course, she wasn't.

“Crystal... Crystal I think we took the wrong train,” Gigi muttered.

“No...no we are heading uptown,” Crystal defended.

“Yeah... no. We are heading downtown. Like, way downtown. Crystal, we're in Brooklyn... that’s basically a different state. We’re going in the opposite direction of the hotel,” Gigi explained slowly. Crystal buried her face in her hands.

“Oh god, what do we do?” Fuck. Crystal was crying. But of course she was, she was crossed and she was... well, she was Crystal. Gigi grabbed Crystal’s hands.

“We’re just going to have to get off at Coney Island, and then we will... I don’t know we’ll figure it out.” And so they got off at Coney Island, and Crystal stopped crying, but she didn’t drop Gigi’s hand. Not even when they were greeted by the nipping cold.

“Wow,” Crystal exhaled, looking out on Coney Island. It was a ghost town. Absolutely nobody was there, which made sense considering it was almost March. The orange streetlights aluminized the streets, allowing only enough light to see. They crossed the street together hesitantly, not exactly sure where they were even heading. They just needed to move, they needed their blood to get pumping. Crystal was shivering, it had somehow gotten colder than before. The only fixture they could see clearly was the Wonder Wheel, so they just started walking towards that. They found a bench and tried to ignore the cold as Crystal tried to figure out what subway they had to get on.

“I’m not a big city girl, I don’t know what I’m doing,” Crystal giggled, desperately trying to shed light on their shitty situation. But Gigi wasn’t even annoyed, because she worshipped these stupid little inconveniences with Crystal.

“Let’s just get an Uber,” Gigi shivered. Crystal cupped Gigi’s hands in her own.

“C’mere,” she whispered, breathing hot air onto Gigi’s hands, then rubbing them together. It was such a random gesture, and Gigi wasn’t sure if Crystal was aware she was even doing it, but Gigi melted.

Crystal rested her head on Gigi’s shoulder as Gigi found an Uber who would be there in a few moments, and Gigi wrapped her arms around Crystal when she started to shiver.

“Hey,” Crystal whispered, burying her head in Gigi’s neck. Gigi hummed in response, eyes feeling heavy. “Nothing tonight went to plan,” Crystal giggled, wrapping her arms around Gigi’s torso.

“No... no it didn’t,” Gigi chuckled.

“But I don’t think it matters all that much,” Crystal yawned. Gigi took out Widow’s dab pen and held it out to Crystal, who accepted it, beaming up at Gigi. And there they sat miles away from their hotel, under the Wonder Wheel at Coney Island, holding onto each other for warmth. And though the bitter air was freezing, Gigi had never felt warmer as the words echoed through her head.

‘But she will. But she will. But she will’

Amsterdam

“You will never guess what I just FINESSED for us,” Crystal sang, walking out onto the balcony, holding something behind her back. She had mysteriously left fifteen minutes ago, claiming she had ‘business’ to attend to.

“What?” Gigi asked, slightly scared. Crystal just mischievously smiled at her, leaning against the balcony. “What?!” Gigi laughed, leaning forward in her seat. She watched as Crystal slowly revealed what she was hiding. Jaida’s car keys. “No FUCKING WAY!” Gigi jumped up, crossing to Crystal.

“YES FUCKING WAY!” Crystal exclaimed, and they both began to cheer, Crystal laughing as Gigi let out a loud whoop. She had missed their drives. “But you have to drive. Jaida said I’m not allowed to,” Crystal added, and Gigi burst out laughing.

“Yeah, I think that’s for the best,” she muttered, and they both dissolved into giggles.

“Let’s go!” Crystal tugged on Gigi’s arm, leading her to her apartment. She immediately started running around the room, trying to collect supplies as Gigi tried not to laugh. “Okay so I have some snacks and drinks we can bring- I hate that everywhere closes so early. And I’m bringing my blanket. Because I want to. Oh and I forgot to tell you! Michelle and I went to this vape shop and we bought a dab pen together!” Crystal tossed Gigi the dab pen, but Gigi refrained from hitting it. She cannot drive high.

“Aww it’s cute. Did you name it?” Gigi asked. She grabbed one of Crystal’s totes and started putting the snacks and drinks in. Crystal was still walking around, opening every drawer and cabinet in her apartment as she found everything they might need.

“Well. I wanted to name it fracking. But I don’t think Michelle liked that, so we decided on Madonna. Well- Michelle decided on Madonna,” Crystal answered, grinning at Gigi. And they both burst out laughing, again. The thing about Crystal Methyd is that her joy is contagious. Gigi could revel in it all day, if the universe would let her.

“Alright, do we have everything?” Gigi looked across the room. She had a tote filled with snacks and bottles of water slung over her shoulder. Crystal had another tote with phone chargers, Madonna, a flashlight, and towels? And of course, her huge white fluffy comforter was balled up in her arms.

“Yup. LET’S GO!” Crystal let out a whoop and yanked the door open. They both flew down the narrow steep stairs, feet pounding. Gigi could’ve sworn she heard Jaida yelling “What in the fuck?!” As they passed her door. And then Gigi was in the driver's seat, watching Crystal shove her blanket in the backseat, getting into the car after. “Alright. Are you ready?” Crystal asked, and they both couldn’t stop smiling.

“I’m ready. Where are we going though? Like- can you get directions?” Gigi watched Crystal take out her phone, opening Google Maps.

“Okay... so I know I can’t be trusted with directions, but this doesn’t look too bad. It’s like... one road?” Crystal trailed off.

“I’m trusting you Miss Methyd,” Gigi gave her a warning look. Crystal just laughed, and started the directions.

“Don’t listen to me, listen to Siri,” she told Gigi. And so they started to drive through Amsterdam, towards their destination.

“Where are we even going?” Gigi asked, getting on the highway.

“Miss Gigi Goode, we are GOING TO THE BEACH!” Crystal cheered, and immediately started blasting “ Starships ” by Nicki Minaj. Gigi let out a groan but had to laugh.

“You’re giving me FLASHBACKS!” She yelled, but of course couldn’t hold back from scream-singing along with Crystal. A part of Gigi wished they were driving during the day. She knew the route was taking them through smaller cities in the Netherlands she still wanted to see, like Haarlem. When Gigi voiced this to Crystal, she just looked at her, confused.

“Harlem? Like New York City?” Crystal asked. Love Story (Taylor’s Version) was playing lightly through the car speakers.

“Haarlem like the Netherlands. There’s... there are other places named Harlem,” Gigi chuckled, and Crystal just shook her head, hitting her dab pen.

“Alright don’t act all smart with me, Miss College dropout,” she muttered under her breath. Gigi gasped, turning to look at Crystal in mock horror.

“Crystal you bitch!” Gigi cried, smacking her in the arm. Crystal just giggled, and Gigi knew that stupid high giggle. Suddenly, “ Sedona ” by Houndmouth started playing, and they both perked up in their seats. “Turn it up TURN IT UP!!” Gigi exclaimed, and Crystal leaned forward, cranking the volume all the way up. Gigi rolled down the windows, and the cool summer breeze wrapped around them, whipping through the car. Gigi could feel the bass of the music pounding in her body. And there was Crystal next to her, hair flying in ten different directions, screaming along to Sedona, a wide grin on her face. And Gigi’s chest burned.

After about 45 minutes of driving, Gigi could smell the ocean. She followed Siri’s directions, pulling into the beach’s parking lot. The whole place was completely empty, not a person in sight. Probably since it was 2 AM on a Monday night.

Once Gigi was parked, she and Crystal immediately jumped out of the car.  “GIVE ME MADONNA!” Gigi said as they ran towards the beach together. She took a long hit, exhaling into the night air. Crystal was ripping off her shoes, and before Gigi could think to stop her, she was in the water, up to her knees. At least she was wearing shorts.

“GIGI COME ON!!” Crystal was jumping up and down, holding out her arms for Gigi to join her. And as she jumped in midair, a wave came crashing down, knocking her into the water. Gigi gasped watching Crystal go under, but as she rose out of the water, mullet soaked covering her face, clothes clinging to her body, all Gigi could do was cackle, doubled over in the sand. “I HATE MY LIFE!” Crystal screamed, crawling towards Gigi. “GIGI I HATE MY LIFE!” Gigi couldn’t tell if she was laughing or crying or both. All she knew was that she’d never let Crystal live this down. “Why is the water so cold? It’s summer,” Crystal’s teeth were chattering, her whole body shaking.

“Poor baby,” Gigi cooed, helping Crystal up on her feet.

“Why is the water so cold?” Crystal whimpered, wrapping her arms around herself.

“Awww. Do you want some cheese?” Gigi pretended to be concerned, combing her fingers through Crystal’s mullet, trying to put it back into place.

“I’m lactose intolerant you know that,” Crystal pouted, and Gigi was fighting so hard not to laugh.

“You want some cheese with that WHINE?” Gigi exclaimed, and then Crystal was chasing her around the beach, shouting obscenities. This didn’t last long of course, they’re not very big runners. So eventually they went back to the car and carried all their supplies back to the beach.

For an hour, Crystal and Gigi laid out on the sand in the dark night air together, just talking about literally anything. Gigi talked about how much she missed Hunter, Marko, Symone, Rosy, and everyone back home. How they had helped Gigi pack for Amsterdam at the last minute, all so excited.

“Amsterdam is my fresh start. That’s what we would call it. Symone promised I would come back as a changed human,” Gigi muttered. Crystal turned on her side, facing her.

“Do you think you’ve changed? Has Amsterdam... been good for you?” Her voice was so small, and fuck Gigi was in too deep. Again.

“I don’t know. Maybe. I feel like... there’s just something in the air here. It makes it easier to breathe. I don’t know,” Gigi was laying on her back, gazing up at the stars.

“Yeah,” Crystal nodded in agreement, still facing Gigi. “I know what you mean. But a part of me feels like... maybe it’s not being in Amsterdam. That makes it easier to breathe. That makes everything better. I think it’s... I don’t know,” she trailed off, but Gigi knew exactly what she meant. She heard it loud and clear. And it terrified her.

“We should probably go,” Gigi whispered, and she was mortified to feel tears welling in her eyes.

“Gigi...” Crystal looked at her, searching. But Gigi ignored her, jumping up and brushing the sand off her body.

“Cmon,” Gigi smiled, hoping Crystal would see that Gigi was fine.

Gigi was fine. Gigi was fine. Gigi was fine.

They silently made their way back to the car. Gigi watched as Crystal put the towel down on her seat, then climbed into the passenger seat, wrapped in her blanket like a burrito. Gigi snorted, and Crystal just playfully glared at her.

“Turn on the heat,” she smiled lightly. Gigi rolled her eyes, utterly failing to hold back a smile as she turned the knob to blast the heat. Then, “ Summer Love ” by the hit world famous iconic legendary boyband One Direction flowed softly out of the speakers, and Gigi hated that her chest used to ache when she would listen to the song and think about Crystal. And how it still did.

Crystal wasn’t looking at Gigi though. She had leaned her head against the window, looking up into the night sky. Gigi glanced up through the sunroof, letting out a soft breath as she saw the stars shining bright. And then her eyes fell back to Crystal, and she was still gazing at the stars, and Gigi felt something rumbling deep in her chest. She couldn’t fight back the soft smile on her face, looking at Crystal fondly. Her eyes turned to meet Gigi’s, and she easily returned the smile. And then Gigi remembered she was driving and looked back on the road.

“What are you thinking about?” Crystal murmured, watching her. And Gigi thought, eyes still trained on the road.

Gigi figured for all the drives she’d gone on with Crystal, all the times they’d sat out on the balcony together until sunrise, Gigi had come to know the night sky by heart. Gigi knew every star, every constellation. She knew Crystal’s soft smile, gazing up at the sky. And sometimes Crystal’s head would turn, and she would look at Gigi, constellations in her eyes. And Gigi swore that the sun and the moon and all the night skies they had seen together, all of the sunrises, the sunsets driving through the mountains, were nothing compared to Crystal Methyd. But she couldn’t know that.

“Nothing,” Gigi responded. “What are you thinking about?”

“I... kinda wanna go to London?” Crystal said sheepishly. Gigi just turned to look at her, wondering what the hell is she up to?

“Like... right... now?” Gigi asked. Crystal let out a laugh, shaking her head.

“No! Like... this weekend? Just Saturday and Sunday. Jaida said we get one weekend off of our choosing. And we can’t use it too close to Pride because we’re gonna be busy,” Crystal explained, and Gigi’s chest was on fire.

Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes.  

“Um... sure,” Gigi shrugged her shoulders. “Let’s do it. We always have fun in the city, don’t we Miss Methyd?” Gigi gave her a sly grin. And maybe she was testing the waters, seeing how far she could go. Just out of curiosity. But maybe Crystal was testing the waters too, because she responded with a wink,

“Oh yes we do. Believe me, I remember.”

New York City

“What if he’s weird?”

“Crystal-”

“I’m just saying, what Uber driver is active at three a.m. in New York City?”

“Elizabeth-”

“What’s his name anyway? Trent? Never trust anyone named Trent-”

“Methyd.”

“Shit, is that him?” Crystal asked. A Buick SUV pulled up then stopped.

“Gigi?” Trent asked, rolling down his window.

“Yup,” Gigi said, pulling open the door to the backseat. She felt Crystal hovering over her shoulder. “It’s fine, Crys.” They both slid into the back of the car, shoulders pressed together.

“Where to?” Trent asked.

“Dream Midtown Hotel, in Uptown Manhattan. Wherever that… is...” Gigi trailed off. Trent nodded before driving off. Thankfully, he didn’t ask any questions on how exactly they ended up at Coney Island. And thankfully Trent showed up when he did because after about five minutes of driving it began to pour. While driving, Trent picked up a phone call, suddenly oblivious to Crystal and Gigi. The wails of sirens harmonized with a blaring car horn. Gigi leaned into Crystal.

“I hate New York,” she said. Crystal, who was staring out the window, whipped around to face Gigi.

“Really?” Crystal asked softly. Gigi nodded. Crystal turned back to the window, propping her head upon her hand. “Must be because you live in a big city. I don’t think I’ve ever seen this many lights before.”

Gigi hated New York. She did. But she loved the way the city reflected in Crystal’s eyes. Flashes of blue, red, orange, purple, green, and white flickered throughout the car. And though being driven through the city at 3 am by a sketchy man was the last thing Gigi wanted to do, Crystal made it worth it. Because Crystal made everything worth it.

“Where do you like? If not New York?” Crystal whispered, looking tired. Gigi smiled.

“Well, L.A. obviously. But Chicago.” Crystal was silent, eyes pleading for Gigi to say more. “Uhm, my friends and I on the weekends would make up these elaborate lies to tell our parents and then take the bus or train into Chicago. We were all sixteen, and there was this one drag bar that allowed us to go in and we would just spend the night watching these queens perform and...” Gigi realized Crystal was staring at her, suddenly feeling a little embarrassed. “And it’s so dumb to say now... but I just fucking fell in love with Chicago,” Gigi finished.

“That’s where we’ll go next,” Crystal said simply.

“What?”

“Next time we see each other after New York, we’ll go to Chicago. I’m dying to meet Krysti anyway,” Crystal laughed. Gigi beamed.

“Seriously?” she chuckled. Crystal grabbed Gigi’s hand, giving it a quick squeeze.

“Of course.” Gigi realized how close they had gotten, their noses practically touching. Trent turned up the radio. “ New York ” by St. Vincent flowed softly through the car.

“New York isn’t New York without you love,”

Crystal hadn’t let go of her hand. She inhaled quickly as if she were about to say something, but stopped. Gigi watched as the gears in Crystal’s mind began to shift.

“Is-” Crystal started, “is it bad I’m happy Paul isn’t here?” she confessed, and then “I don’t think I could see you both in the same room, it just wouldn’t make sense to me.” Gigi’s heart skipped a beat, not sure if this was Crystal begging her to read in between the lines or if this was Gigi’s wishful thinking. Either way, she ran her thumb across Crystal’s hand.  

“Is it bad I’m also happy Paul isn’t here?” Gigi didn’t mean for it to sound like she was telling a secret, but it did. Crystal’s eyes flickered down to Gigi’s lips, only for a second, but it was enough to send chills down Gigi’s body. She mirrored Crystal, her heart pounding in sync with the sound of rain falling on the metal roof of the car. It was Crystal who finally closed the space between them. It was barely a kiss, their lips catching each other for just a moment. But god, it was electric. Lightning struck.

“Looks like it’s about to be the perfect storm,” Trent said to whoever he was talking to on the phone. Gigi and Crystal both let out awkward chuckles. It was dark, and Gigi could barely even see Crystal but she knew she was smiling, and Gigi hoped Crystal knew that she was smiling too.

The car stopped before either of them had a chance to speak, though Gigi couldn’t even fathom what she could possibly say to Crystal. They both just got out of the car, thanking Trent quickly. When they got in the elevator, Crystal pressed the button for floor six instead of their floor, floor eight. Gigi cleared her throat.

“Floor six?” Gigi asked.

“Thought I’d just say goodnight to Widow before I head to bed,” Crystal said, a hint of panic in her voice.

“Do you want to talk about- uhh-like- what just happened?” Gigi asked.

“It was just a kiss,” Crystal said, but it sounded like she was trying to convince herself more than Gigi. “Just like on the party bus, right?”

“You kissed me” is what Gigi wanted to say. “You kissed me and you’re saying it was a joke, that it meant nothing, but I can’t believe you, I can’t bear to try. I saw the glimmer in your eye, the slight upturn of the corner of your mouth as we slowly filled the space between us. I felt your heart beating. I felt you.”  

“Yeah,” Gigi said instead. “Just like on the party bus.”

“Great. I’ll see you tomorrow then,” Crystal whispered as the doors opened on floor six.

“Yeah. See you tomorrow, goodnight.”

“Night.” Crystal stepped out of the elevator and walked away, not looking back as Gigi desperately pressed the button to make the door closed. Gigi sunk onto the floor of the elevator, bunching her hair in her fists. No matter how hard she tried that night, she couldn’t get her lips to stop buzzing. Just wait until Hunter hears about this one.

Amsterdam

“Okay. Now don’t go around doing your British accents because people will get offended,” Michelle said.

“Or do! The British might be honored!” Jaida quipped.

“No. Your accents are terrible, they will not be honored.”

“I don’t know Michelle... I think our accents are rather good,” Crystal said in her god awful British accent.

“Yeah, I think they’re pretty on the nose,” Gigi agreed in her accent, which was only slightly less worse.

“You guys are gonna get canceled...” Michelle muttered.

“Let the 15 year olds on Twitter cancel you, they can’t even read yet,” Jaida said, and then “well, this is where y’all board!” Crystal and Gigi stood at the entrance of the train that would take them to London. Michelle pulled them both into big hugs.

“Be safe, ladies. Don’t do what I would do.” Gigi and Crystal both laughed.

“Don’t listen to her! Have fun, fuck up some crumpets for me,” Jaida laughed. Gigi looked at Jaida and Michelle, who both were looking at them with puppy dog eyes.

“What’s wrong?” Gigi asked.

“We’re just gonna miss you,” Michelle said softly.

“And we wake and baked this morning. You know weed makes me all teary eyed,” Jaida sniffled. Crystal and Gigi threw their heads back laughing in unison. Jaida pulled Gigi into a hug. “I’ll never get over it... seeing you two happy, together again,” Jaida whispered.

“Jaida...” Gigi trailed off.

“I know, I know it’s all behind you but... we were scared for a minute.” Gigi gave Jaida a final squeeze.

“We’ll see you guys in a few days!” Gigi said as she and Crystal stepped onto the train.

“Goodbye darlings!” Jaida and Michelle waved them off. Crystal and Gigi silently found their compartment and settled in next to each other.

“This is gonna be the best weekend of our life!” Crystal cheered. “Even better than Drive n’ Drag!” Gigi heard Crystal not say. They booked a train for early in the morning so they’d make it into London by afternoon.

“Are you nervous about the tunnel?” Gigi asked.

“No...” Crystal lied.

“It’ll be fine, I promise,” Gigi said. She grabbed Crystal’s hand without even thinking, like she had just turned on autopilot. And Crystal, also on autopilot, rested her head on Gigi’s shoulder. And it felt like old times. It felt like home.

Just then, they entered the underwater tunnel, so Gigi turned on the playlist. “You okay?” she asked. But Crystal was asleep on Gigi’s shoulder. And all Gigi could do was think about where she was a year before. Preparing looks for Drive N’ Drag, late nights with Rosy and Symone coming up with possible scenarios that could happen, feeling so full of hope. And Gigi ignored the pit in her stomach because she was full of that same, blind hope just now.

New York City

Gigi laid awake all night, replaying the kiss over and over in her head. It was so quick, so soft, barely there. Had she imagined it? No. Because she remembered Crystal’s panicked eyes in the elevator, getting off on Widow’s floor. She remembered Crystal saying “It was just a kiss,” like it meant nothing. But she also remembered seeing Crystal’s face in the Uber, her smile illuminating the city.

Because she kissed Gigi.

But Crystal claimed it meant nothing. It was like the party bus. So what could Gigi do about it?

‘Go home and cry about it to Rosy and Symone.’

That was the only thing she could do. So Gigi forced herself to fall asleep, but even in sleep, she just saw flashes of Crystal on the subway, Crystal at the bar, Crystal getting off the elevator, Crystal in the Uber, Crystal sitting under the Coney Island wheel, Crystal in the Uber, Crystal’s face pressed into Gigi’s neck, burning hot.

 Crystal in the Uber, Crystal in the Uber, Crystal in the Uber.

Crystal kissing Gigi. Crystal kissing Gigi.  

Gigi kissing her back.

Gigi was jolted awake by her alarm, and let out a groan as she realized the van coming to bring the Queens to the airport would be there in an hour, and her room was an absolute mess. She scrambled out of bed, rushing to pack everything up. She didn’t even have a moment to think about Crystal until she was sitting next to her in the back of the van, being driven to the airport.

“Hi,” Crystal gave Gigi a tight smile, not meeting her eyes.

“Hello,” Gigi said casually.  

Please act normal. We’re about to say goodbye for who knows how long. Please act normal.

It seemed that Crystal got the message, because she immediately relaxed, and suddenly it was like nothing had even happened last night. Almost. Because they weren’t pressed up against each other, their foreheads weren’t barely touching, whispering nonsense back and forth. Crystal kept her distance.

It sort of felt like she was already back in Missouri, just out of reach.

But still, they talked with the other queens driving to the airport, and as each minute passed, Gigi became painfully aware of the fact that she didn’t know the next time she’d see Crystal. Of course, they would make plans eventually. Gigi was due to visit Crystal in Springfield, maybe for one of her viewing parties. And of course, Crystal said they would go to Chicago. But when? They would both have such crazy schedules once the show aired. But looking at Crystal laughing at something Widow said, Gigi knew they would be alright. Widow said Gigi just needed to give Crystal time. She could do that. She had waited this long, she could wait a little longer. Crystal was worth it.

The van pulled up to the airport, and Gigi followed everyone out. As the driver unloaded all the suitcases, Gigi turned to face Crystal. She was just looking at Gigi, tears in her eyes.

“Not yet, holy shit,” Gigi laughed, and Crystal had to join, shaking her head.

“Shut up,” she chuckled, punching Gigi’s shoulder lightly. They walked into the airport together, suitcases in trail. Once they made it through security, the queens all hugged each other goodbye. The next time they’d all be together was at the finale in April. Gigi wondered if things would be different with Crystal by the time they’d get to see each other at the finale. Maybe they would actually be together. Or maybe they would still be stuck in this weird limbo, unsure of what they were anymore. Only time would tell.

Gigi’s flight was boarding in fifteen minutes, and Crystal’s was boarding an hour later. So Crystal walked Gigi to her gate, and neither of them were sure what to say to the other.

What do you even say?

“I’ll uh... text you. When my flight lands,” Crystal said awkwardly, looking anywhere but Gigi.

“Okay,” Gigi said lightly. She had to say something. This was the last time they were seeing each other until... well at least until April. But so many things had happened in the three days they’d spent together...

What do you even say?

“Crystal I... I don’t know,” Gigi whispered. Crystal’s eyes met hers, and Gigi could feel her saying a million things. Gigi knew how confused she was, how scared she was. She understood. Crystal needed time. So Gigi did the one thing she knew and pulled Crystal into a tight hug. She didn’t whisper sweet nothings, she didn’t cry, she just held Crystal as tight as possible, for as long as she could. And Crystal held back just as tight, burying her face in Gigi’s neck.

Gigi didn’t know how long they stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, oblivious to everyone else. And then her flight was called. “Alright,” She whispered, pulling away from Crystal. “I’ll see you soon,” she tried to smile, but it was a grimace, and fuck now Crystal’s eyes were welling with tears again, and Gigi had to go, but Crystal was standing there, gaping like a fish, trying to find the right words to say.

“Gigi...” she started, but nothing came out.

“I know,” Gigi said firmly. She pulled Crystal into another quick hug. “I will see you soon,” she smiled at Crystal, and Crystal smiled back through her tears.

“I’ll see you soon,” she whispered, and then Gigi was walking to her plane.

In the months to come, Gigi would look back on this moment, playing it over and over in her head. Because in three weeks, the whole world would be on lockdown, in the middle of a raging pandemic. Crystal, Gigi, and everyone else would be stuck at home, told not to travel, not to see their friends and family, to flatten the curve. They wouldn’t see each other at the finale, which instead was held on Zoom. Gigi wouldn’t get to visit Crystal in Springfield, getting to meet her friends and family.

No.

Instead, Gigi would lay in bed at night, wishing she had said something, anything to Crystal. Wishing that the last time they saw each other for who knows how long hadn’t been spent in silence, neither of them knowing what to say. Gigi wished she had been braver, that Crystal had known what she wanted. Gigi wished the universe hadn’t decided to come crashing down just when things were maybe finally going to happen with Crystal. But more than anything, Gigi wished she could’ve had just one more night with Crystal in New York. Gigi wished they had more time.

#gigi goode #Crystal Methyd #crystal methyd x gigi goode #crygimethydgoode #crygi #fanfic #fanfic rec #drag queen fanfic #crygi fanfic #rpdr12 #rupauls drag race #RPDR #Lover’s Fantasia #please read this we promise you’ll love it #complete

[highfunctioningflailgirl]

My Lethal White episode 1 recap

After having had a lot of fun recapping episode 2, I went back and did episode 1 as well. It got a bit out of hand and is a loooong post...

Under the cut, because, evidently, there will be ALL THE SPOILERS! 🚨

*SQUEEEEE!!!* THEY’RE BACK!!! 🤗💃🏻🙌🏼  (Yes, I’m still squeeing, although this is a rewatch)

Let’s look at the title sequence, shall we? They’ve added a few new details: There’s the wooden cross from the dell, the White Horse of Uffington and Robin’s Houses of Parliament guest pass. The child from Billy’s memories and the pink blanket. Someone’s already mentioned the ‘whore’ swirling in the coffee cup, and then later we have a fencing icon in the pint. Cool hints. 😎

Cut to tired, head-achy Cormoran at the wedding. Strike has a slightly different haircut, and I wonder: they dye Tom’s hair darker for the role, but he has a glint of natural first grey at the temples that I’ve seen on Tom pre-Strike. How did they keep that? (Sorry about the hair kink digression…☺️)

Pet peeve of mine they carried over from Career of Evil: in the book, Donald Laing slashes Strike��s palm, but it didn’t happen in the series. There was no blood on his hand when he called Robin, and his glove was intact. And yet, Strike has his hand bandaged. I know it’s a silly pet peeve of mine, but stuff like that pulls me out of the moment. And Strike wouldn’t slap on a bandage just for a little bruising. *steps off soap box*

“You look beautiful.” - “And you look terrible.” - “It’s this jacket, needs taking in.” 😂

“I want you back.” - “What?” Augh, the double meaning of it all, Strike’s softness and Robin’s initial uncertainty of what he means. 🥺

When she realizes that Matt deleted Strike’s messages, there’s a tear spilling from her eye, and she quickly wipes it away. 😢 Such good acting. Such a brave girl.

A few of us have already addressed this in the chat: did Matt BLOCK Strike, or delete his calls and messages? Or both? They’re frustratingly unclear about this detail, and it makes a difference in terms of Strike being able to reach her or not. (I’m a continuity nerd, sorry)

Sarah standing next to Matthew. *gags*

Robin looks so beautiful! And so very sad. (Holliday is acting her heart out of this season, can’t say it enough). This is award material, hands-down. 🏆

Her look across the room at Cormoran while they’re eating! And he’s… just been staring at her all through the meal? Good god. These two.

If Cormoran falls asleep before dessert he’s got to be really, REALLY tired.☺️ Poor baby.

We’ve got to work on your fine dining skills, Cormoran darling! It’s very cowboy and rugged, handling cutlery like that, but you would SINK during an aristocracy under-cover op. Maybe the Comte de la Fère is available for a lesson?

The first chords of The Calling’s “Wherever you will go”. Ack. They really went for the original, and as someone who’s always been ridiculously in love with that cheesy song, I AM HERE FOR IT.

Cormoran walking slow-mo past the bridesmaids, looking at Robin dancing with Matt The Twat. My heart…💔

When I’m gone you’ll need love to light the shadows on your face… *sniff*

Cormoran’s FACE during the dance. I can’t. He looks like a puppy about to get shot. 🥺

(and what a juxtaposition to the little lady with the funny hat bobbing happily next to him, to everyone looking awww and being completely ignorant of the drama that’s playing out. Ugh. I’m dead.)

Matthew moves like someone who’s (painstakingly) learned exactly one (1) dance, and for their wedding only, and why is he even smiling so proudly? They must’ve just had the biggest row in history? Is he really so full of himself?

Even Robin is smiling, although staring longingly at Strike. I bet they did that so Strike would be a little mad at her and want to walk away.

AND HE DOES! 😟 You can just see the “Fuck this” from the book crossing his face as he turns around and leaves. Ack. I’m dead again.

If I could then I would, I’ll go wherever you will go

(Perfectly placed, kudos) 👏🏼

And she runs after him, looking like a fairy-tale princess. Did you see how frigging COLD it must’ve been, judging by her breath?! Poor Holliday must have been freezing to death during the shoot. And then to pull off such a heartbreaking scene…

(Also, the lawn in the park? A shitload of rolled sods. No grass looks this lusciously green in winter, and you can see the edges everywhere. Some landscaper had a field day there!)

“Are you sure?” - “Yeah. I am.” About WHAT, you idiots?! *wrings hands* To her coming back to work, of course, but there’s so much more to their statements. And I’m sure that non-book-readers thought they were about to kiss and elope, but - alas! - we know that’s not going to happen.😔

But at least we get The Hug™️, and it’s everything we hoped for: Robin crying, digging her fingers into his jacket; Cormoran closing his eyes… God help us, we are all DOOMED sailing this ship! 🙈💔

I was a little miffed upon first watching that they faded out of that hug so quickly. That was it? No, it wasn’t, as we now know, and I love, love, love that we’re getting all these extended flashbacks that reveal more and more of what happened to us!

ONE BLOODY YEAR LATER (I still can’t get over that time jump)

Lol at the subcontractor crashing his moped into the cab! It was only briefly mentioned in the book, and turning it into an actual dialogue was a fun idea.😂

And there’s Denise (that IS her, right?), completely uninterested in doing her job. Good grief - Strike and Robin are BAD a picking employees! 🙈

Robin looking not-jealous-at-all at Strike walking off with Lorelei. Ouch.

I like Lorelei, btw. They chose the actress well, and she’s nice and mature. Which doesn’t mean that I’m not secretly flinching every time she kisses Cormoran. It’s just not right.

Billy. Joseph Quinn does an incredible job playing him. 👏🏼 As dangerous as he appears at first, his despair and his efforts at holding himself together are heartbreaking. That battle he wages against his mental illness is on full display, and his scared big eyes are killing me. 🥺

Cormoran is admirably unfazed by Billy’s appearance - is that his Army training kicking in? Robin, though, is shaking but braving it out, recording with her phone although her hands are trembling. Good acting by Holliday.

Good riddance, Denise.

The good ole’ pencil trick. “I didn’t know people still did this.” 😌

I was surprised that Cormoran chose to simply break into the house on Charlemont road. It’s breaking and entering for no good reason. Could’ve been anybody’s home.

He’s not going to- EWW! He’s sitting down on that filthy couch. And plucking hairs from it. EWW!🤢

Robin: “...and some porn.” 😂 Says it as if it’s what they always find. The usual. Men… 🙄

Who’s the guy taking pictures of Cormoran? I seriously don’t remember this from the b- Oh, WAIT! Reporter guy. Patterson. Yeah. Him.

The CORE members are as cliché in their looks as are Chiswell’s upper class folks. It’s all a bit on the nose for my taste, but then clichés are clichés for a reason.

Cormoran needs to work on his disguises. Not fitting in at all with the CORE crowd, age-wise or in his look. No wonder they don’t trust him. He does it better in the books.

Oh Robin. I actually think you need a lot more therapy to work through your shit.

Ah, here we go. Seaborn bacteria. But first, Matt’s got to be a prick again. 🙄

Chiswell with his arrogance and his rudeness and his finger-snapping. *shakes head* I think if Cormoran hadn’t known he could make some serious money with this case, he may have walked out on him.

Btw, the “large” jacket is making Strike look slimmer instead of bigger. 😄 They’re so desperately mentioning Strike’s largeness, as if beating it over our heads could actually make us not see barely-6-foot and slender Tom Burke.

“Couple more potatoes wouldn’t hurt.” And his FACE! 🥰

Glenister is a really good actor. I always listen to the Strike audiobooks that he narrates, and I was worried hearing his voice in the show would be confusing, but it’s not because he sounds so different. Can’t wait for him reading “Troubled Blood” to me! 🎧

Is it a coincidence that Drummond’s art gallery has a painting of a horse in its front window? I think not.

I love that soft blue shirt they put Cormoran in. Makes him look very huggable. *blushes*

“Not sure I would make a convincing goddaughter either.”😂

So in England you can just walk up to a minister’s house and ring the doorbell without any security people stopping you? Interesting.

Chiswell just shutting the door in Cormoran’s face. RUDE.😠

The brown contact lenses. 👀 Okay, they make her look different, but not THAT different. It’s her sudden posh accent that’s the real stunner.

The panic attacks. Holliday plays them so well, I almost feel like I can’t breathe myself. 😧

I was expecting the Houses of Parliament to look a little less like a stuffy basement full of old junk. *ducks*

Barclay! Definitely looking more attractive than his description in the book. And I thought I’d gotten food at understanding Scottish. I haven’t. *turns subtitles on*

Izzy is the only Chiswell offspring who doesn’t make me want to immediately vomit.

“Venetia. Like the blinds.” Oh God. 🙈

Winn is such a creep. 🤮 Poor Robin. GET AWAY FROM HER YOU LEECH!

Of course Matt doesn’t want Robin to wear the Green Dress. Twat.🙄

The house warming party. I always wonder why Robin doesn’t have friends of her own. I have a feeling Matt has something to do with that.

The earrings. So we will see Robin finding out Matt’s cheating on her! I can’t wait for her to rip him a new one! 😈

Robin calls Cormoran - and it’s not Coco but Lorelei who picks up. That’s a smart change from the book. And it makes her the rebound girl. Which she doesn’t deserve, but it is what it is.

“And she bakes.” 🥴 Is it just me wondering how Lorelei got that cake into the tin without ruining the icing?!

Flashback to The Hug™️. God, their faces are so close. Cormoran is so soft. Nnnnhhhggggg.

Enter the plaid shirt. Lumber!Cormoran is a good look on him! 😍

The Armchair of Sadness™️. Of course that’s where the devastating phone call to Robin’s house happens! The disbelief and disappointment on Cormoran’s face is heart rending. 😢💔

@lulacat3 and I have already established the continuity error with Cormoran’s facial injuries suddenly missing when he’s reached the pub. (And they should still be there; he’s still wearing the plaid shirt from that same evening.) If I were the makeup person I would have been deeply regretful of having missed dabbing fake injuries on Tom’s face again.

The Uffington Horse. Robin’s in appropriate Wellingtons, weather jacket and a beanie for their outing. Cormoran is wearing what he always wears, and Tom clearly wishes he had a beanie. At least he gets to wear a t-shirt under his eternally blue shirts this season. REVOLUTION! 😄

Sure. Let’s just go and dig for a corpse with a shovel so conveniently available! Just the two of them - one delicate Robin and one invalid. And then Robin finds the bones after ten seconds of digging. No further comment. 🙄

But I like the change with Cormoran’s leg. As stupidly heroic as he acted in the book, I like it better in the show where he has to acknowledge his handicap and Robin takes charge.

The bones. Dun-dun-DUN!

(Good first episode, although all in all the pacing wasn’t quite right yet, and compared to the book it all felt a bit rushed. I liked episode two better.)

#lethal white #cormoran strike #lw #lethal white episode 1 #cb strike #bbc strike #spoiler alert 🚨

[noocturnalchild]

Of Thieves and Poets

Warning : Mention of abuse, light depiction of wounds, hurt

Well, that was a hard chapter to write, mainly cause I’m still strugling with my English, and sometimes, ideas are here but I find no words to describe them as I want to !

Many thanks to a great friend who’s always been there to beta read my fics and correct the MANY language mistakes I’m still making,it’s a shame that I can’t tag her here !

Sara maybe you’ll never read this but I LOVE YOU ( this is me talking to myself lol)

Also many thanks to all who are sharing and liking my fics, I love you guys, you are the best !

All the poetry in this chapter is William Carlos Williams’ ! 

Chapter one here ! 

Chapter 2 

* 

Give me something to eat! Let me take you to the hospital, I said and after you are well you can do as you please. She smiled, Yes you do what you please first then I can do what I please

“Who’s she?”

The day Laura died, he wrote his most accomplished poem. It rested between her cold fingers, folded in a small sheet of damp paper and he briefly wondered if the dead could read. Heavy rain washed the sleepy city that day, and everyone said that they’d never seen so many white peonies in the same place before. He buried all his other poem books with her, tucked between her curls and the black and white satin.

He never made a copy.

Paterson didn’t write love poems anymore. But never were his fingers as ink stained, bruised and abused by so many hours spent writing as they were now, and never was his desk inundated by so many notebooks. They piled up in complete disorder, competing with books and tools, making the old wood squeak uncomfortably.

“Who’s she”

Only now he saw her fiddling with the framed photo he kept on his living room table, so that it was always the first thing he saw as he woke up.

“Wife?”

Paterson didn’t answer.

Mina had her back turned to him. She couldn’t see the man’s eyes watering, or the frown of his brows, nor could she feel his struggle with his breath, repressing the tides of anguish that menaced to crash on him again.

“Gorgeous, dude! bet she gives great head” She turned to look at him over her shoulder, winked suggestively.

Beaming and smug at the same time, Mina looked like one who’s sure just dropped something so smart and funny, completely oblivious of the hands clutching on the cold marble of the kitchen counter. White knuckles, white pain…

“No complaints.“

Paterson’s reply of choice. Life was going on for everybody, for him too. Doc got a TV in his bar after all. Marie went to New York and Everett to LA. And he was still a bus driver, eating cereals every morning, writing in his yellow pages and sitting on the wet benches of Paterson’s waterfalls, so why would he complain?

“Go and freshen up, bathroom first door to the left”

“You’re no fun” She stuck out her tongue and left. Paterson couldn’t be mad.

Laura was laughing, straddling the arm of the sofa and eyeing him with mischief in her eyes. He couldn’t help but smile.

“Won’t ya help me with my clothes?”

“I can’t do much with a broken wrist”

“It hurts”

(…)

“Dude, come on, so prudish!”

Laura had a hand on her mouth now, in mock shock, her eyes were still laughing, and Paterson was confused, a pretty blush rising to his cheeks. He remembered now that the only clothes he had that might fit Mina were Laura’s, and even those were big for the bony creature waiting for his help in his bathroom.

“Hold… hold on a second”

Paterson drew in a shaky breath, fetched one of his sleep shirts from his bed drawers, strode to open the bathroom door and… oh God.

A trembling dry leaf stood before him. Only in her white crop top and equally white panties; Paterson imagined her cracking under the passers-by’s soles, giving in under their rough stumpings, each one leaving a stain on her weak frame. Paterson’s eyes descended to her bare thighs, and she kept her eyes on the floor.

“Jesus… Who… who did this to you?”

Her thighs were a hideous map, little red and yellowish scabbed dots and circles on tarnished, discolored skin.

She shrugged, eyes avoiding his. Why would he care, why was he so insistent, why couldn’t he just be like the others, why won’t he try something with her, on her, like she deserves… she would let him, this one, she would.

“Just help me with my top” a wobbly voice replied, but Paterson was already looking for something in his medicine cabinet.

“Sit on the stool there” His hands were shaking as he put the ointment and the bandages on the side and proceeded to wet a washcloth.

“Can… I?” He kneeled, and their eyes met. She kept silent and nodded and he thought the sparkle in her eyes was gratitude.

With infinite gentle touches, Paterson washed her thighs and legs, dried them carefully, applied the ointment and wrapped them in clean bandages.

Laura was watching in reverence. The scene exuded something religious; the saint washing the sinner’s faults. And none spoke a word.

Afterwards, Mina laid in white clean sheets, but for all the comfort she had, she couldn’t sleep the few hours separating the night from dawn. She counted the hours, watching the bus driver as he slept peaceful and soft; not so far from her spot on the sofa.

The domestic rituals, the warm clothes, the vanilla soap smell lingering, the nice buzzing of the fridge in a quiet space, and the dim light he kept on just for her… His… his kindness coiled her like sticky ropes. Mina was suffocating.

She got up, slid in her dirty jeans, but kept his shirt on, and with a final brush of his hair, she took his watch and slipped out of the quiet house, and the monsters took her in their arms again.

***

Recycled air and synthetic notes, shopping carts rolling and low, lustful giggles.

With his favorite brand of cereal in hand, Paterson’s food shopping was almost done for the day. He was just strolling, verses starting to form in the fog of his mind as he saw two forms melting in each other, just against one of the snack vending machines. A smile began to tug on his lips. Life was simple, young lovers making out in malls and supermarkets, in the streets and gardens; the boy handsy, in baggy jeans and a loose jumper, fake golden chains around black collar, the girl…the girl.

Paterson’s mind went blank, and verses fled away like frightened pigeons.

“Oi man, whatcha lookin’ at!”

The guy addressed a dazed Paterson, and the girl turned her head from off her lover’s chest.

In all the scenarios she imagined at night, curled up in the corners of the streets and between the brushwood of the parks , meeting him again while in the arms of another man was never on the list. It shouldn’t be like that, it wasn’t supposed to be like that. He shouldn’t think that she… but what was she anyway? She was everything he might think of her now.

He was so beautiful she wanted to bury her pain in his chest, between the threads of his regal hair. Curl all the hurt in a bundle and he would take it, in his large warm palm. He would know how to make it disappear, like by magic, vanish in thin air. With a touch of his finger pads, he could wash away scars; wipe away the purples and the blues and the burns. He was so clean she feared to touch him. He was so wholesome and she felt so queasy, so sickening she wanted to puke. Her hand skimmed the hidden pocket in her rat nibbled jean vest; the watch was still there, burning a hole in its worn fabric. She didn’t pass it on to Ian. It earned her new cigarette burns and a slap that made her nose bleed a little, but she had survived worse treatments.

“Who’s that, you know that guy? You do boring now?”

Carlos giggled, showcasing many missed teeth. He pinched her sides playfully, slapped her cheek playfully, squeezed her tits playfully, and she wished to die.

“Yo dude, wanna suck my dick? Ow no? Maybe a threesome? My chick here gives amazing head”

Oh, that again.

“See, not interested”

Carlos giggles sounded like gallows bells.

“I’m not your chick, for fuck’s sake!”

Mina screamed in frustration, pushed a stunned Carlos away, wriggled free from his sloppy hold, hand reaching out for salvation.

“I’m… I’m sorry!”

What she meant to be loud and clear, came out as a choked whisper.

But Paterson was already turning his back to her. This time he didn’t wait for her, not even a hum or a discarding hand, his long silhouette drawing away, swallowed by the light.

Life was going on, no complaints.

***

Mina was out, really out.

Even when she told him she wouldn’t play “pretend” with him anymore, Carlos still hung around for some time, and the money she could get from him she saved with scrutiny, starving herself to death. She never came back to the “pack”; her steps always took her to the quiet small house at the end of the stairs. She lurked there, watching when the lights went on, and stayed hunched behind shrubs and bushes, clutching the watch to her heart, listening to their combined tic tic tic… the mechanics soothed her, and she slept there every night.

Whatever happens, never sell the watch.

She started doing windshield scrubbing too, helped some nice grocery shop owners with their crates for some dollars, and by the end of the month she could buy a dozen cigarette packs and tissue boxes to sell in the streets. She was always hungry, but at least she could picture him in the back of her mind smiling, not disappointed in her anymore. He might not know, for now, but the thought was comforting. The thought was like a pier, supporting the bridge she was building towards him and she was sure she would reach him again, one day.

***

Sun benches at the curb bespeak another season, truncated poplars that having served for shade served also later for the fire.

It was Saturday morning. The rainy clouds of the day before blew over for a shiny crystal sun to come out. Excitement and expectations wired the air with buzzing electricity around Hinchliff Stadium. Kids and teens, middle aged and old people formed noisy groups, stomping on empty chips bags and placing bets.

Mina thought herself lucky when she laid hands on second hand baseball game tickets. Her wrist completely healed now, she roamed the area around the stadium, surfed the crowd, hands full, voice rusty from a cold she was nursing, over exploited vocal chords, yelling, trying to convince hurried passers-by to buy, by means of jokes and charms.

That’s when she saw him.

“Fuckin’ Carlos” a livid Mina stumbled a few steps backward, eyes seeking a gap between the crowds, quickly calculating her way out.

Fuck!

She could recognize Ian’s red sneakers anywhere. She thanked the heavens for his poor cover-up skills, giving her the high ground for a moment. She knew he could see her, but she took her chance. One group blocked his vision for a moment, and Mina took off her oversized leather jacket, let her hair down and started to walk slowly in the opposite direction.

She mentally counted to ten, chewing furiously on an overused gum, her hands started sweating. She knew that if caught this time, it wouldn’t just be cigarette burns on her thighs.

So Mina ran.

She ran aimlessly, not looking back, eyes closed and breath shagged. She could feel the adrenaline rush shot through her bones, just like every time she plunged her skillful hands inside the pockets of an oblivious passer-by, but this time there would be no euphoria of the gain waiting at the end of the road, just a sliced head.

Five minutes of sprinting and she couldn’t take it anymore, were her lungs that damaged? Fuck you Carlos, couldn’t keep his trap shut! Fuck! She was losing speed, she could hear Ian’s red sneakers batting the asphalt, tap tap tap, just behind. It was common belief that, at moments like these, the film of your whole life would flash back before your eyes, that the spool of all your wrongs would unfurl the threads that would wind around your legs and throat, choke you to death, drag you to hell. But Mina only saw two amber gems, Mina saw warmth and large, strong arms wrapping her in endless depths of comfort, and she felt peace descend upon her, Mina saw the future so she ran faster, and this time, with one destination in mind.

#paterson #adam driver #paterson x original female character #paterson 2016 #adam driver fanfics #fanfics #hurt #she's a mess #forgive her #he's wholesome #pat needs a hug #paterson fan fics

[himbo-buckley]

Sex, Intimacy and Buddie (better known as I have a lot of feelings about this show, some of which are related to the before mentioned topics) - Part 5

Hej alla,

hur cool att du är här! Vad kul!

(Kay, that’s it, all the Swedish I remember from two semesters of not really studying, so it’s probably also wrong, uups?)

(Still passed though.)

You guys! We made it! And please, do not imagine this read to you in a happy voice. I am sobbing. I already miss it!

(Also, if you do imagine how I might sound please consider due to several unforseeable circumstances of student exchanges in my youth I have a very weird mixture of British and American English, which basically translates to sounding like either of those doing a bad impression of the other accent - or you know, Australian.)

I’m really having a hard time finishing this meta because I loved doing it so much and I loved talking to all of ya’ll so much. This is a sad moment. (HEY, what if ya’ll came and visited my askbox and I get to discuss random stuff with you!)

Just a fair warning now, somewhere hidden in the middle: this thing is fucking long! We are talking longer than Season 2, so be warned!

Anyways, in case someone is new:

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4

And some general info:

This meta was supposed to be a lot shorter and only talk about how both Buck and Eddie use sex to distract their respective partners from whatever topic they actually wanted to talk about but since I decided to rewatch the show to make sure I don’t miss any such scenes, it has exploded a bit and taken on more topics

I should also mention that I am a Buddie shipper and while I tried, you will find several references and arguments for the ship in this Meta, not all of which necessarily call for a romantic pairing but just: These two are deeply connected and you cannot look at one without discussing the other and they are each other’s strongest emotional connection.

I should also preface this by saying that the whole of the 118 has some obvious intimacy / commitment issues except Bobby (which is sort of surprising) but *John Mulaney voice* we don’t have time to unpack all of that!

On another note I cuss a little in this Meta because my parents let me listen to TicTacToe as a small child and after that it never stuck that cussing is wrong so, uhm, parental supervision is advised or something

This Meta has FIVE parts. Season 1 and 2 make up one part each, while Season 3, due to something pesky called feelings and the fact that I can’t shut up, has been split in three parts: Part 3 aka Season 3A, which spans 3.01 - 3.10, Part 4 which spans 3.11 - 3.17 and this part which is officially only one episode - but still manages to be just as long. Yay! (Sorry.)

And now for the last time for now: part 5 (also called „You’re a godless, half-witted himbo, Evan Buckley, and I wish I loved you less so I could talk about it more“)

Episode 3.18:

My oh my, this episode.

I loved it but I also … didn’t.

It was way too much and at times felt a little rushed and the pacing was just weird.

I mean I loved the party but did we really need 5 min of it? Did we really need Josh’s storyline and Michael’s so randomly in the middle of the episode? Could we have gotten a longer apology scene? Why the weird phone call?

Let’s talks about all of that! (It’s why you clicked read more, right?)

Ya’ll, I gotta be honest, I am from Europe and I regularly go to places via train and while it’s better than a bus, I can’t see anyone falling in love with that! I am just gonna assume Abby did not go by train in Germany. Or Austria. Or Italy. Listen, I like trains just fine but man, do they not look like what we see here!

But also, as someone who has watched Community, the train lady saying „This isn’t Subway“ in an Episode where the human embodiment of Subway acts is very very funny to me.

I feel like I don’t have to point out how significant the cut from Abby saying „They stopped waiting for me a long time ago“ to Buck and Eddie discussing Chris is. Everyone has talked about it by now. But yes, it registered, as did the fact that Abby is dating a single father - while Buck is apparently basically dating a single father. But, you know, that probably means nothing! *chugs a whole bottle of wine*

The co-parenting was very cute and honestly I feel for Christopher and Carla and the firefam is Buddie does happen because they will try to out-protect each other and it will be glorious and also Chris might never get to leave the nest ever. That poor boy.

Sidenote: We as a fandom have not talked enough about Eddie’s reaction to Bobby yodelling and I think that’s very tragic of us. Because his reaction is the best, all: „Is he - should I - no, you know what, fuck it, Eddie, ignore this, that’s too much, you can not unpack all of this, just move on. Brush it off!“

Just watch his face ya’ll, it’s great! (He will be talking to Frank about this, I know it.)

Sidenote: Also Eddie in 3.15 / 3.15. / 3.17 / 3.18 > any other Eddie, and no, I do not take criticism. That boy has always been fine but the military hair cut or what ever is doing things to me as do his happy eyes and the smiles - my god, the smiles!

It does seem significant though the way the show focused so heavily on Buck’s reaction and - as it had been the case since „Eddie Begins“ - we basically don’t see Eddie without Buck and that’s weird. That feels pointed and important, the fact that after realising, who his family is, Eddie basically never leaves Buck’s side if they are at work.

Also the way Chimney and Bobby look at each other in between, yeah, again, making fun of Christopher’s dads! Like, even if you don’t read this as Buddie, you cannot not read this scene as somewhat confirming the „Buck is Christopher’s other parent“-thing. And I know I answered an ask on Tuesday(?) where I said he wasn’t really but yeah, he is getting there. The whole season spent a lot of time focusing on Buck’s relationship with Christopher and even if it isn’t about Buddie, I still think it will cause trouble in Season 4 if Eddie begins dating again, specifically Chris’ teacher.

I also need to talk about Eddie and control, because like I said in part 4 Eddie needs to learn to let go of Christopher a little which is what we see here happening, specifically through the lens of making Buck even more overprotective than Eddie to really cement the fact in all our minds that Eddie is trying to let his son have some freedom. I am so proud of him, you guys! He just signed up for the worst two weeks of his life, he will be dying on the inside out of concern and Buck will pester him every two seconds about whether or not Chris is fine. This is why these three haven’t been to Disneyland, ya’ll! Eddie wouldn’t be able to handle it without murdering either Buck or himself. I’m sorry.

And speaking of how the episode is cut:

One thing I love about 911 is the way it always makes me consider new character pairings and connections I myself would have never thought of, in the context of this episode: Athena, Josh - and Eddie.

And look, the Athena and Josh thing is daunting enough but you can probably still catch my train of thought, because both are recent victims of assault and the episode shows them dealing with trauma and confronting their attacker, even though in Athena’s case it was just theoretical. But now you’re probably wondering, okay, why Eddie?

Well, for starters, what the episode made me realise, whether on purpose on not through cutting from scene to scene is how many similarities there are between Eddie and Athena, both of them always trying to be in control, both of them more prone to violence / more okay with violence than the others, both soft underneath, both with a tendency to let anger take over, both considered to be extremely capable, both with an intense need for control, both straight talker.

And now I will obviously not pretend that letting your child go to sleep away camp for two weeks is similar too confronting your assailant who beat you up, but still: facing fears and letting go of control vs. finding different ways to regain control is the theme for these three in the episode (or this Season in Eddie’s case) and I like it.

I really like what they did with Athena in general in this episode, because, while I don’t think we will see her as a civilian in Season 4, I am confident they will address her trauma and PTSD - especially if they only do a short time jump of say three months and not jump all the way to January / February which is when it might air if we’re lucky.

And I do think the comparison between her and Josh is very nicely done as both characters did the whole brushing it off / moving forward / I am not fazed by any of it thing, as we as viewers clearly saw what utter bullshit this was.

Which of course connects nicely to Mr. „Brush it off and move on“ who has spent a whole season learning to not just move on but to talk about it. A lesson he might have learned? At least that’s what the episode made me think, from the way he came to Buck / the firefam to talk about Christopher and camp to the way he so clearly tried to get Buck to open up about Abby. Jup, that is some motherforking growth right there!

I also wanna say hi to Brooke Shields and say I hope we see her again, cause her character seemed interesting!

And I do appreciate Athena herself addressing the fact that she messed up a little by not calling for back-up right away. This is not meant in a victim blaming way, I just think Athena is very used to handling everything on her own and not asking for help and it is interesting to see how that changes, now that it has backfired on her once.

And now we are getting into the Abby of it all and if anyone reading this is anti Buddie or severely pro Abby this is the moment to either leave or scroll down some more, because ya’ll I won’t really hold back!

(I think.)

I wanna begin by saying, uhm, Abigail, honey? Can you not read what is written on Eddie’s and everyone else’s helmets? Yes, he is from the 118, it literally says so on like every article of clothing he is wearing, omg!

(Writers, do better, that made an already unlikeable character seem downright stupid.)

Now it is very interesting, that the first person we see Abby interact with directly from the main cast (I’m counting the phone call with Maddie as indirectly) is Eddie who doesn’t know who Abby is but who is close enough to Buck to know the second he sees her who she is. The episode spends just as much time focusing on his reaction to Abby as 3.15 did on Buck’s reaction and tbh that feels … fairly non platonic. Of course we can always go back to „Stuck“ and remember what Hen said about Tatiana but still. That was one scene, here we have several scenes highlighting Eddie’s reaction to Abby and just, what do you want me to do with this, Tim?

I mean, the meeting scene literally goes like this:

Eddie *talking to Abby* > cut to Buck, coming closer > Buck: „Abby?“ > cut to both Abby and *Eddie* > Abby: „Buck?“ while the camera is still on her and Eddie > cut to just Eddie’s face having a realisation > cut to Buck

That is some very extreme focus if we’re being honest.

Also her panic reminds everyone of Buck in 3.15, right? The way she is screaming, disregarding her own safety, all desperate to get to her fiancé. Yeah.

I like how Eddie lets them talk and then steps in when he realises Buck is too shocked and only then rushes off, nearly touching Buck. Too be honest I didn’t realise his hand didn’t make contact until I saw some gifs of the scene.

Also the way Oliver plays this scene? The whole scene is so painful and I love it a lot, his whole delivery is so very painful, from the way he says „We’ll find him.“ to the „Um, what’s his name?“ to the „No. Oh. Don’t worry about it.“ because you can actually see him go through all the emotions from devastation to being so very pissed off and then locking that shit down!

Listen, I know it was teased that Buck had to grapple between being a professional and his personal feelings and I think this episode is him being a professional, because this is Buck and Buck cares so for Buck being a professional means risking his life for some guy on the train, regardless of his promise and who he is engaged to.  

Sidenote: This episode really brought home why Eddie is a firefighter and not a paramedic, because his bedside manner is shit. „This is gonna hurt a little“. Way to downplay, dude!

Also, while I do love the idea of Buck getting to be Captain one day, I think this episode shows why he won’t be. Because even when he is being professional and having great ideas Buck still cares too much and is unable to make the hard decisions. Compare it to Eddie, who, yes, does say „If we have to choose“, but also is willing to make the choice. Because sometimes you have to. (And now I’m crying a little and oh my, this is why I do not work in any job that has me make such decisions because I could not imagine living with myself if I did.)

I do think however Buck did good, from the way he talked to Sam being his usual self and all.

I’m also such a fan of smart Buck and him standing up for himself with Bobby because he doesn’t get to do this often enough and because it is important for him as a character to learn to trust his own judgement and not depend so much on Bobby’s approval. So yay, my baby is growing up!

(Also, obviously Bobby’s worry was also about Buck and not just Athena, we’ve had half a season of Bobby doing the most to „protect“ Buck, mostly against his will, so I really like that Buck got to do the rescue his way in the end, because it shows growth on both sides.)

Now, Eddie and his dramatic reaction in this scene, first of all:

I wanna take a moment to remember the fact that Edmundo Diaz, my main man, my love, my absolute ray of grey sunshine, apparently lacks any kind of self-awareness - or he would stop acting all high and mighty around Buck because the second Buck is out of view he like, drops any pre-tense of having critical thinking skills or something akin to self-preservation and does the next thing that enters his bird brain no matter the consequences. So a moment of silence for Hen, Chimney and Bobby and all they had to go through in the 6/7 months between Buck getting crushed by a ladder truck and coming back to work, because Buck? They can at least make fun of. Or tell him: yo, bro, you being stupid!

You can’t do that with Eddie - because when Eddie does stupid he gone nearly die but like in a heroic way where he still ends up saving himself and you have to be impressed. Urgh, the nerve!

So, you know what, how about, Mr. Edmundo Diaz, you do not judge Buck for wanting to save people and risk his own life UNTIL WE HAVE FORGOTTEN ABOUT YOU CUTTING THAT MOTHERFORKING ROPE? Got me? Thanks. (I’m not mad, I’m just disappointed, dude.)

(But then again EVERY MOTHERFORKING CHARACTER ON THIS DAMN SHOW SUFFERS FROM CRAZY STUPID DISEASE and no, I do not take any criticism.)

Also I loved Eddie’s dialog and how clearly the whole thing about the promise slipped out if the way his hands closed are anything to go by (or was he imagining punching some sense either into himself or Buck because in both cases: Call Frank, Eddie!). Anyway the way he just left, like, „I can not deal with ya’ll’s stupidity, I am leaving!“ has me shook! That is the top tear entertainment I expect from my favourite show and I love them for it!

I do love how both Buck and Eddie are in protector mode in this episode, Buck with Sam and Abby and Eddie with Buck, especially because if we’re being honest, which we are (this is a safe space ya’ll), Eddie is the one being far more unprofessional! For his standards, of course.

But this is the closest Eddie has come to showing some form of violence since 3a viewed chronologically (because 3.15 happened mostly in the past) yet Buck is just being is usual too caring self. It’s telling and it’s interesting and I’m just gonna say one thing:

„No one is good when it’s personal.“ - because for Buck with Sam it isn’t really personal (though that won’t hit him until later) but for Eddie it kinda is because he is worried about Buck. (And now I did spell it out! But, oh well, I did say we were gonna do some Buddie right around here!)

Sidenote: what exactly was the meaning / reason of that phone call between Abby and her stepdaughter? We already knew Sam had children and from the was she was looking outside they could have had her just see Buck and step out of the tent to watch the rescue, so why do it this way I ask? Why this incredibly unnecessary phone call that felt so very awkward?

Also I am not gonna talk about that scene right now, because I get mad every single time!

So I will just leave a link to what I’ve said about this scene so far here *and* give you the notes I took on this scene:

ALWAYS READY TO DIE

godless heathen of a man he makes me so angry i hate him i hate this show I wanna leave

EVAN BUCKLEY LOOKS GOD IN THE EYES AND SAYS NAH BRO NOT TODAY

(It’s not like his suicidal tendencies are relevant to this meta anyways because like I said a few paragraphs ago: The whole firefam has them! )

Also, for the first time ever: here is a picture I took while watching the show because what are these two extras doing? Why are they touching like that? Who are they and will we see them again? Does my brain get easily distracted by completely unrelated things?

Anyways, the way Buck answers Sam „She’s down there waiting for you.“ when he asks for Abby and his „Good to meet you Sam.“ really brings home how none of his behaviour was about Abby and all about Buck being Buck. (And now I am angry at him again, urgh, THE NERVE! Selfless fucking himbo!)

I really liked that Sam knew who Buck was and that they got to have this little interaction where he probably reevaluated the whole night because that boy just risked his life for him, the guy marrying his ex-girlfriend, and has spent the whole night being so very nice to him and talking to him. Not gonna lie, Buck is a good guy through and through and Sam probably feels like shit now.

Also Eddie coming to stand in front of Buck - I know some people think it was out of protectiveness, which got me thinking:

Tbh at first I was convinced it was a camera angle thing? Because if Eddie stood behind Buck we wouldn’t really see him. Then I thought, so why choose this angle to film it? Obviously the set had to be built a certain way so was there no other way to do it? Also why was it even important, that we saw Eddie arrive like that, couldn’t they have just changed the angle after Abby was gone to get Eddie in the frame? Why was it important that we knew that Eddie was there and 1) was putting himself physically between Abby and Buck meaning 2) that when Abby leaves with her single father, Buck is left with his single father? Why does an episode that is supposed to give Buck closure focus so much on the reactions of his non romantic partner?

(Because tbh, even if they needed to find ways to use Ryan Guzman in this Episode without adding too many scenes, they could have done it with less focus on Abby. I say this as a Buddie shipper who does recognise how important the connection Buck and Eddie have as friends is: storyline wise Bobby would have made more sense in most of these scenes and Eddie could have been used in a different way.)

I’ll leave this scene with the very nice visual of Buck running back to the traincrash and Eddie following him. These two. Like magnets.

And a quick topic change, because I do wanna talk about Michael and Doctor Hale as well in this meta, one because I found them very cute and two because I’ve now talked to a few people about Ana and Eddie and while we by now know she will probably be in Season 4, I feel like we need to compare Michael and Doctor Hale vs Eddie and Ana. Because there is such a difference in the way these love interests where introduced.

Now, of course we need to realise that Eddie and Michael are fairly different characters and Michael has way less relationship related baggage than Eddie has which is why he goes after what he wants way faster (also, carpe diem, he just found out he won’t die). Also of course, there is no moral component to address in Michael dating some doctor vs. Eddie dating his son’s teacher, but still:

Michael and Dr. Hale had one scene together and it wasn’t even overly flirty and yet, we knew where it was heading, we felt the chemistry and everyone ended the episode saying: I ship it, more of that - which they did give us, just *one* episode later. They had some awkward moments, yet the show never left a single doubt in your mind where this is heading.

Now look at Eddie and Ana:

Sidenote: I do wanna say be kind to the character and no hate, especially not to the actress! Yes, she needs to be flashed out more; no, what we saw so far does not make me ship them; no, I do not mind if they dated a little.

First of all we learned more about Doctor Hale in the two short scenes than we did about Ana in four scenes. That seems deliberate.

Second, while we do realise Eddie thinks Ana is attractive from the get go she repeatedly shuts him down by pointedly saying „Mr. Diaz“.

Third, every scene between them - and I mean every single scene - is connected to Buck in some way:

In „Fools“ we cut from Buck saying he likes being single to Eddie doing parent-teacher conference and yes, meeting some other teachers first but also Ana, showing us that while Buck is fine with being single - Eddie might not be. Also, Carla’s „blue eyes“ line which is a little clown-y, so take it with a grain of salt that it could connect us to Buck

Then of course her next scene is Eddie getting in her face about Christopher being hurt. Later in the episode we see Buck reference this on a call, meaning either Carla or Eddie told Buck about it (I am leaning a little toward Carla making fun of Eddie in front of Buck and Eddie then having to come clean about all of it, because I cannot wrap my head about the idea of Eddie telling Buck about having a crush, I’m sorry.)

Her next scene is Eddie coming to apologise to her and she gives her speech about limitations - which we can of course connect to Buck and Eddie talking about Christopher and his limitations before that and then afterwards going skateboarding with them. (It does feel a little deliberate.)

And then of course we have „Eddie Begins“ and you guys, they could have very very easily have either Carla or Buck make a joke about Mrs. Flores and Eddie’s crush in the firehouse scene, but they didn’t! And then we do get to see her at the end where she has one whole line and Eddie barely looks at her and you know what happens? They have a child ask the same question Buck asked at the beginning, making us think of Buck. Like, it would have been enough to establish Eddie doesn’t feel like a hero if the question was asked only once - twice in the span of 45 minutes constitutes a callback, meaning we are supposed to think of the other scene and that means thinking about the other person that asked, which was Buck

And yes, once Season 4 premieres and we get Eddie and Ana in this epic romance because Tim Minear wants to be the next Rick Berman, I will go back to this meta and beat my own ass. Or something.

(Listen, her returning in Season 4 does not mean endgame or the end of Buddie, it just means Eddie might get a love interest. Tbh I actually think it could get us closer to Buddie and you know what, I’m just gonna link all my Ana Flores posts here here and here now so you can read all the other stuff I, alongside some other people, said on this topic, if you’re interested because none of this has a point right now.)

Now, let’s get into the meat of things and talk about *that* scene:

Was it a good apology? No.

Did Buck deserve better? Fuck yes.

Did he get closure? Yes.

Is the way that scene was done actually perfect? I mean, ya’ll, yes? A little?

Listen, this scene was always about closure and that’s what Buck got here and that’s what Buck needed.

Buck, who in Season 1 had described Abby as the perfect woman, needed it to go down like this so he could realise she wasn’t and he could finally let her go. And that’s what it was about!

Obviously looking at Abby’s character this episode does not make her look good, like not at all and I’d be very surprised if we ever saw her again. But looking at it from Buck’s point of view it was exactly what he needed. (Not what he deserved, but yeah, if this show was about what Buck deserved it would be a whole lot different and Buddie would be canon by now.)

One thing I really loved about the scene was the way it was filmed, with LA in front of us, Abby and Buck with their backs to the camera and us only ever seeing them in profile, because it was a  private moment and this sort of made you feel like you were intruding. Like you were listening in on a conversation and I liked that a lot.

Also I think her speech about losing herself through helping people is very interesting because it contrasts her to Buck. Buck found himself in helping others and lost himself when he was no longer allowed to do that and I think that is what she means when she says she would have lost herself with him again. Because Buck is selfless and he is so selfless he inspires others to be the same, except Abby isn’t but being with Buck she would need to be and that is a problem.

Look, if you’ve followed this blog at all or maybe just read part one of the meta you have probably guessed by now that I don’t like Abby. I found her character boring. I thought she overstepped all the time. I got so mad at her for the way she treated Buck in Season 1!

Because in 1.06 she *actually* complains about him being too thoughtful and scared of messing up while calling him a *toy boy*. The truth is, after 1.05 and their first meeting, Abby no longer takes him seriously. She hardly ever takes his feelings into consideration. The relationship, from Valentines Day onward becomes all about what she wants and what she needs and our Buck is the selfless idiot who gives her his all.

I mean, she never even talked to Buck about wanting to leave, just presented him with her decision and then lived her life and never thought about him again.

And like, I think she is wrong if she thinks she’d have lost herself with him again, because Buck was what showed her that she lost herself in the first place. He helped her on the path of self-aquaintance (I guess? I’m lacking the word here), but she is right if she means the relationship wouldn’t have worked.

Because one of them would have lost themselves, though I do think it would have been Buck and not Abby. After all, Buck was the one who gave everything up from the get go and yes, Abby helped trigger him finding himself alongside Bobby and the job and she did help him stay on that path in the beginning - but in the end it was never about her at all. It was about him and him alone and the amazing person he had always been.

And I think that is what Buck realises in the scene. Despite Abby ghosting him, he still looked at her through rose coloured glasses and with fondness, but here, he realises, oh, Abby isn’t perfect. Abby isn’t like the woman I made her out to be. Abby never really cared about me. And as much as that probably hurt, this is what Buck needed to let go of her!

He needed to see that Abby wasn’t the perfect woman so he could let her go - and find himself the perfect person, someone who reciprocates and doesn’t just take. (Am I crying?)

(And look, I am not saying he already found someone like that, someone who proved in this episode how much they care about Buck and his feelings and making sure he comes home every night to his family - I’m saying he found someone who is working on being that person!)

Let’s talk about Eddie and Abby for a second, again, okay?

(Bro, how did I just get to that topic? So random! *laughs in Buddie*)

When I watched the episode my second time to take notes, I wrote one that said ‚Abby and Eddie parallels / lawsuit‘ - and I gotta be honest I barely remember what I meant. But I did still produce some thoughts (just not sure if that was where I was going with the note, so if anyone has some other ideas, please share):

You know how Abby talks about losing herself when she is with Buck? Well, I know someone who lost themselves just this season because he wasn’t with Buck! (Jup, we’re back with the lawsuit, ya’ll really thought I wouldn’t bring this up? You guys! More than 20000 words and you still don’t know me!)

It’s a very nice parallel to have Abby talking about losing herself with Buck when we saw Eddie losing himself without Buck. Because while I think Eddie himself is a selfless person just like Buck, similar to how Buck needed Abby in Season 1 as a catalyst of change so to speak, Buck was the catalyst of change for Eddie.

I talked a lot in the other parts about Eddie having problems with voicing his needs and feelings - and now please once again look at his relationship with Buck. Because here he has been doing this, not from the get go of course, Eddie didn’t take one look at Buck and his whole life was turned upside down (that was Buck looking at Eddie), but I think Buck steamrolling through Eddie’s life helped Eddie find himself. Buck, from the get go, is a calm centre for Eddie, an anchor, even after he reconnects with Shannon. Buck is who he turns to in a crisis, who he trusts with his son, with having his back.

And I think in both cases - Abby and Buck as well as Eddie and Buck - the relationship is brought to the next level through Buck’s selflessness and willingness to help. But while Abby just takes it and doesn’t really see it as the gift it is and never fully lets Buck in, Eddie does the opposite. Eddie, whether knowing or unknowing, makes himself exactly what Buck needs: someone who puts trust in him, who treats him like an equal, who opens his home and his family to him. And he also tries (and this is a big thing considering who we’re talking about right now) to be there for Buck, to be his anchor just like Buck is his - which obviously works with mixed results, because one person, no matter how hard they try can never fix the problems of someone else alone. Believe me. I’ve tried.

And wow, did that get deep and fast! Damn ya’ll and I haven’t had a drop of alcohol in like 5 days. This show really gives me all the feels!

Now, to keep me and maybe ya’ll from crying I’m gonna change the subject and talk about something else, also known as the rest of the episode:

To go back to the start of the episode, Buddie really had some extreme couple / family vibes going on, especially with Christopher in the mix. It’s telling that they included a scene of Buck and Christopher specifically and it was to remind us once again that these two have a strong bond.
I won’t go all: Buddie confirmed, this is were we are heading, ya’ll! Because as you must have realised by now I am fairly cautious when it comes to this and am always fighting to keep my own clownery at bay, but I do have to say so far nothing in this show and Season 3B specifically has read as a red flag for me, disapproving the possibility or making me feel queerbaited. Now, maybe I am just very off in my intuition and they will change gear in Season 4, but well, right now I have some hope!
I also loved the scene of Christopher going to camp and the card which reminded me of 3.01 and also, Eddie looks so good here! And he came so far, letting his son go to camp and all!

Of course I would have loved to see Buck there as well, but one, that would have been a Buddie confirmed and we’re not quite there yet and I’m glad cause right now they aren’t fully ready (in show terms, fanfiction is something different), and two this proves what I said about Buck and Christopher being connected and him having parental / fatherly feelings toward the boy but like, not being his actual father yet! Buck loves Chris and Chris loves Buck and obviously he is part of the Diaz family - but he also isn’t.

(Also: I went to something like camp when I was 11 and you think both my parents brought me? Nah, son, they didn’t. My dad brought me while my mom made breakfast.)

Now, some sidenotes to round it all off:

Karen is a gift and I really hope we see more of her because omg, I wanna be her friend, I wanna be her wife, I wanna learn about life from her! She is awesome and I will never fully forgive Hen for cheating on her, like girly, Eva isn’t even close to Karen on any level?

And speaking of Hen, I love the subplot of Chim coming to terms with her potentially leaving and deciding to help her because he was who she really needed on her side - not anyone else. I’d write a meta on their relationship but tbh it’s so consistent and unproblematic, I really don’t know what to write except: goals about 10000 times. Which isn’t that different to me finding new ways to write THE CONNECTION, if we’re being honest but oh well! Now it’s too late to stop that!

I loved Athena getting spooked by Bobby showing up behind her when she was getting a drink - talk about this show finally addressing the trauma these characters go through! And it only took, oh well, about 35 episodes. Let’s hope that is the energy they bring into Season 4.

Now the apology scene with Bobby, I do hate how Buck is once again the one apologising and especially since it’s with Bobby but I do think it was a nice scene and a great callback to 3.01. Also this episode showed a lot of growth in Bobby and Buck’s relationship. Because after 3a was all about Bobby projecting onto Buck and making decisions for him based on what he thought was the right thing, this episode not only had Buck standing up to Bobby in a healthy and adult way (no lawsuit this time!) but also Bobby giving in and letting Buck make the decision even if he disagreed. That is some motherforking growth right here and Babe, I hope you are not to disappointed with me, but if they keep Bobby like this I might actually begin to see his appeal to people (still need him to suffer the consequences of his actions, though).

But to end on a great note:

Buck is doing okay and - most importantly - MADNEY BABY!!! You guys, we knew it was coming from the promos and all but I cried! I cried so hard! I am so happy for them! These two soft characters and their amazing, open, caring, trusting, adult relationship deserves all the luck in their fictional universe!

Whew, you guys! We’ve done it! And it’s longer than Season 2 (I’m sorry, are ya’ll surprised? This episode was a lot!)

I feel like I should write some form of conclusion to this whole meta and yet my words elude me. Here are the few I have for you though:

This meta began with the idea that neither Buck nor Eddie really knew how to be emotionally intimate with a person and instead used sex as a substitute. This is no longer true for either character.

Buck has learned through his relationship with Abby, that he can be both physically and emotionally intimate with a person and he has proven how this is still true in his reaction to Taylor and his relationship with Ali, what little we saw of it. Furthermore Season 3B specifically showed that Buck, while still afraid to open up to people, is trying. I do think Season 4 is heading toward some kind of romance for him and while I am praying to several deities I do not believe in and the universe itself that it is Eddie, I am not sure. I hope so. But never the less, my shipping aside, Buck has grown tremendously in the course of 3 Seasons and I am so impressed both with his character and the way the show has so realistically done it. I love him. Even more than Buddie I hope we get to see him truly happy in Season 4, happy and settled and learning what life actually holds for him because that kid could rule the world if he wanted to.
Now, Eddie: It’s funny, when I began this meta I felt more connected to Buck, I didn’t really see myself in Eddie, I barely had a grasp on his character at times. Now? Now he is my favourite, I love his greyness, his goodness despite his faults, the way he always struggles with himself to do better, to be better because it doesn’t come naturally to him, because it has been taught to him to do the opposite. And that is so impressive. I love the growth we saw in him, the evolution, the fight to be a better man than his own role-models and I love especially how all of this was motivated by and for his son. He truly loves him more than life itself and I am so impressed with 911 subverting something that feels like a very female storyline by giving it to a man.

But of course Eddie isn’t done yet and Eddie still struggles with intimacy and opening up but he is getting there. Through Frank and Buck and for Christopher he is fighting and he is getting there and I love that for him and about him! He deserves to be happy in Season 4 just like Buck, but mostly he deserves to be at peace with himself!

And I already talked at length about Ana and their potential and linked what I thought didn’t fit in here, so I will not bore you by repeating myself and just say: wait. Wait and see. Maybe the show will surprise us. Maybe it won’t. Maybe corona will kill us all before we have a chance to see Season 4. Maybe we are in the Matrix and the blue pill is a metaphor for being trans. Life is strange!

Also on a more personal note I wanna say thank you to everyone who has read and liked and reblogged and commented. I love all of you. Your support and trust in what I am saying has meant a lot and will mean just as much in the future and I do hope I get to do this again in like a year once they return!

(Also, not to sound needy but another reminder to please reblog and comment? Because I *am* actually writing this because I really wanna talk about the show and my feelings and your thoughts and you know, that can only happen if ya’ll do some reblogging)

(Or come to my ask if you are more comfortable being even more anonymous, I don’t judge - I NEVER ask question any other way!)

In diesem Sinne: hamma wieder was gelernt, recht herzlichen Dank für Ihre Aufmerksamkeit und auf Wiedersehen!

Also, of course, the tagging:

@chimbuckleys​ @angelcamael​ @greyhello​ @the-family-we-choose-118​ @ipleiade​ @sevensoulmates​

#buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #buddie meta #buck meta #eddie meta #911 meta #911 #911 fox #meta #textpost #mine #season 3 #my meta

[penaltybox14]

DecoFiremen: The House in the Bronx

@squad51goals @its-skadi ​@darknight-brightstar @zeitheist At home in the Bronx or: Silky receives a letter.

Your foolish and misguided friend.

Birchy.

Thomas had thought the letter from Wynantskill was for Captain Hastings.  Sure some new lad would be coming down - it was a regular thing, after all.  New boys arriving at their houses, certain as the seasons, like the surprise of snowflakes on a late autumn day - what you knowed to be coming, but found a new liking in every time.  

But Flip had handed it to him instead, with a shrug to Captain Hastings. 

Of course, just then, the bells had dropped and they were off, tearing down the avenue.  Flip at the wheel and Captain Hastings beside him, and Thomas and Jimmy on one side and Bruno Spack and Ten-Cats Johnson on the other, the engine a great roaring thing, the lights - new electrics, run off the engine itself - and in all the commotion and the going and the coming (it was only a pot boiled over on a stove, frightening a slim, nervous young maid) - he had just - forgot it there, on the table.  Forgot it, tending the truck, forgot it, checking his turnouts, forgot it, reading the paper.  Forgot it right through dinner when Flip tossed it back on his lap in the midst of clean-up.  

"Might ought be important," Bruno said.  

"From Wynantskill?" Ten-Cats laughed.  "Might ought be they found out Silky cheated on his exams.  It would take them so long."

"Oh sure," Thomas says, wagging the letter, "I cheated.  I duped the oakbellies into thinking I was a ten-score dumber, so they'd send me off to work with you lot."

"Ah, fuck off, son."

"Fuck off and dry off, both of you, finish the dishes," Flip shouts from elbow-deep in hot suds.  

So it is not til late, and lamp-light, that Thomas sets to read the letter, which is sort of roughly pinched into the envelope, and the return-address stamped on the back is half-smudged.  The handwriting on the front is smooth and confident, the writ of someone who learned his letters early.  His own hand, guided by the sisters and the Jesuits, carries the same measured strokes.

Practice, Thomas, practice.  You will not get better if you do not practice, my son.  Now, again, on the lines.

But as soon as he opens the letter, he puts it down again.  And he puts it under his pillow and closes his eyes and clenches his fists and breathes.  He tries to settle on the voices of his house-mates, Bruno's blue-chambray laughter, Ten-Cats' whiskey-amber stories, Captain Hastings a blooming, booming scarlet like the truck itself in a blur.  He could find any man of his at twenty paces in the black, on the stair, in the smoke.  His sear passes over them like the hand of God, finds them good and gracious, and settles in his chest again.  He could, for sure, find any one of them beneath the bull-hide of the fire, hot and reeking and blind.

The letter under his pillow hisses and sighs, like a room before you bust the door, like a quiet room waiting patient to take the breath of fire.  How funny: how still and warm the room is, how safe it seems, before you bust the door and let all that air in for the fire to gobble up.  It shatters windows.  It swallows up the life inside and turns it out in light.  

It is only a letter.

Like the dozens he wrote.

Birchy boy, I haven't seen you since the ceremony.  You showed the oakbellies.  I knew you would.

Birchy, I hope you are well at Wynantskill.  It is not the same here without you.  

Birchy, my bell-ringer, my board-rider, how are you?  I miss you so.

Josiah, have my letters reached you?  It is different, here, in the city.

Pal, are you still sore I once nearly ran you over with a horse?  Please say not.

Some days, Birchy, I look down at the patch on my coat and I wonder how it got there.  Do you feel the same?

The seasons changed, the horses retired, the kerodiesels came in service, the lamp lights became electrics, the faces of men lined and their hair greyed, their mustaches drooped longer, but they still played cards, and they still sang songs, and the city still caught fire.  No letters came.

New boys came.  Thomas left his first house the first hot day of the year the kerodiesels became standard, took his gear and his brass and his coat and belts, and came to Captain Hastings and Engine 27.  It was like a new start, he was told.  Perhaps there were too many bad memories.  Perhaps he would be happier with a Captain who didn't know -

Him.  

Josiah.

It is only a letter.

Bruno's brawling blue and Flip's crisp sizzle find their way to the edge of his being.  He knows they are close, and listening out.  He wishes they would not.  Cap, perhaps, has the sense or kindness not to.

It is not as if half the department didn't know.  

He lies on his bed, in the low lamp-light, which flutters as if it is concerned - the way the sisters would fuss over his work, hovering, correcting, murmuring amongst themselves.  He holds the letter a little ways distant, struggling to reach just one line at a time, afraid of what he'll find when he reaches the next.  Each word is a single stair step in the dark - one foot up, a boot-kick, the next foot up, slow and sure with the hose heavy on his shoulder, one hand on his brother, another hand on his back.  

It was Josiah, for so long.  Josiah, who was to his hand like shine to brass, who was to his arm like the ardent voice of church bells in the morning, who was in his lungs like far-off daylight, who rested in his sear like he had never been an orphan.  It was Josiah, moving into the room, Josiah, beneath the beam, Josiah, beyond his reach.

It is only a letter.  It is only words that happen to tell him a story.  It is only a story about a boy without a family or a house, but - between the ink-spots, the smudging as if hastily folded without a secret read - a child with a long hallway, stretched between the dark and the day, the near and the now.  How, on an avenue in the Bronx, on a chill evening with the window's shut, does he hear the voices of children?

It is only a letter, after all.  He could put it away in his locker and never think of it again.

Josiah could always write him again.  And again.  

And again.

In a white ward at Bellevue, full of stern and stoic doctors who seemed to cut through time as surely as scalpels, beset by flocks of earnest sisters who thought that they were only bodies fraught with fire, only the sad and lonely flesh of God - he had bent his head over his first and last friend and prayed again, and again.  

And again.

The doctors wanted him away.  The surgeons wanted him gone.  His Captain, the Battalion Chief, the District Chief, said to rest, to come on now, he's in their care now.  

But he would not rest, would he?  He would not, he would grab Josiah's sear by its scruff and bear its claws and drag it shrieking back, he would clench the sheets until his own bandages split, until his own tears stung his burns, again and again.  He would have bent time backwards at the knuckles, he would have broken his own arm to make the last half-inch and hit Josiah's back before the beam.  

Last he saw Josiah, it was at the promotion at Saint Florian's Hall, mid-town.  And the rest of them, up for belts, for commendation, for their brass, they saw the steel and leather and looked away from the man, who stood stubborn as the first horse in the ashes.  Last he saw Josiah, his Birchy grit his teeth and took his coat with both hands, though it must have cost him dear to do it.  Those were the fever-bright eyes he had laid out in the Sear-dark with, those were the wide shoulders he had rested against between shifts on a five-alarm warehouse blaze, for sure, that was the same old Birchy.  

Last he saw Josiah, the Sear had no words for him, and he choked it up like ash.

You pulled me back, Silky.

They gave me the captain's coat because they did not know what else to do.

Thomas puts the letter in his pocket and tromps down the stairs to the watch-room, where Cap is listing over in his chair like a fishing boat bobbing in its berth at the piers.  He pulls paper from the desk drawer, and a pen from the rack beside the blotter.

It's for the boy's sake, he thinks.  

But it is not.

It is only a letter, and for the boy's sake.

But it is not - by the lamplight, it's for him.  For the fever and the Sear.  For the breath, and that damned beam, and everything it broke and pinned beneath it.  

Thomas scrambles to write before he can swallow the words again.

Birchy, you bastard, you bright and sear-blown bastard, I wrote to you a hundred times, and so you say you're sorry, you better be sorry one-damn-hundred times, the sisters would tell me to forgive you because God would want it, but you never believed in God, you just believed in fire and fists well, Birchy, you bastard.  I'm the sorry one.  I never said it to you at Saint Florian's and I never said it to you at Bellevue and I never said it to you on Ward Avenue.  I'm sorry.  I wasn't fast enough, and now there you are and here I am.

When I was an orphan with the sisters I never knew what being an orphan was because somebody dropped me off in a basket at the Foundlings Hospital.  Your boy is nowhere near so lucky.  I tell you I was an orphan, past-tense, Birchy, because even though I was elbow deep in other kids and raised by sisters and taught by brothers, when Kidder Parson came and took me out I found out I had a family so fast my eyes almost spun out of my head.  The day I hit the dirt at Wynantskill I knowed that.  Why do you think we call them houses?  It isn't by God because they're churches.  

Birchy I do not know any more than you do.  I do not know how to be a captain I do not know how to be a lieutenant, I've only ever been a brother.  I think, my first-and-last friend, that's all we've ever got.  A house burns down you build another.  You got to build the boy a house, Birchy, you got to furnish him a home.  

Your forgiving bastard,

(Truly)

Silky

#decofire #decofiremen #antique letter-writing #finding the family whether it wants to be found or not

[babbushka]

It’s Always You

Charlie x Reader 

Warnings: NSFW

Word count: 3k

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

Whenever it's early twilight

I watch 'til a star breaks through

Funny, it's not a star I see

It's always you

“You don’t have to say yes.” Charlie starts the conversation off, as you’re both browsing the produce.

Strawberries are in season, and you pick up a carton of them as he inspects bananas.

“Why don’t you ask me first?” You say, not really looking at him, voice low.

You had been meeting in the grocery store for a year now, every Sunday, at exactly ten a.m. It was one of the only things that you both knew you could count on, meeting every week, seeing each other every week. No one knew you there but the staff, and they didn’t suspect. They just thought you were a couple of regulars.

No one suspected.

Charlie picks a bunch of bananas and puts them in his cart, along with the other things he’s gotten for the week.

“Keep me company?” He asks, looking at you now, passing you with his cart but stopping right in front of you. “It’s the first night in the new place. The first night…”

He doesn’t say the first night I’ll be alone.

He doesn’t have to, you hear it anyway.

“Why would I say no?” You ask back, voice soft.

“Because I barely have any furniture yet and all I can offer you is a takeaway dinner and some TV and – ” Charlie starts to get worked up, starts to do that thing that he does when he’s frayed at the edges.

You hate to see him like this.

“Of course I’ll stay with you.” You want to reach out and hold him, so badly. You want to, but you can’t, not here, not now. Not where everyone can see and know, you can’t let them know.

“All night?” Charlie pleads, and you don’t feel like you’re in the produce section of the grocery store, not when he looks at you like that. You feel lost in his gaze, like you’re on an island somewhere, somewhere sunny and warm.

You know better, there are dark clouds on the horizon, a storm coming to the island.

“All night.” You say with a nod as you reach for raspberries too. “I’ll make breakfast in the morning and you can tell me about your plans for the place.”

Charlie nods and walks away, pushes his cart to the deli. You go to the bakery.

Whenever I roam through roses

And lately I often do

Funny, it's not a rose I touch

It's always you

 “It’s a house.” He says, when you reconnect near the cereal. Charlie loved cereal, the boring flavors. You loved that about him, it meant you didn’t have to share yours. “It’s a nice house. I didn’t want to do that thing, you know? That thing where the dad moves away and lives in a bachelor pad apartment forever. I want Henry to have a backyard he can run around in, I want him to have someplace he’ll be excited to visit.”

“He’d be excited to visit you if you lived in a shoebox.” You smile, a little more open now that you were tucked away in an aisle, instead of out in the open.

“Maybe now, but when he grows up and resents me, it won’t be so easy.” Charlie groans, and you give him a hard stern look.

“Henry isn’t going to resent you.” You place a hand on his, right over it, right over where it sits on the handle of the shopping cart. “And I’ll tell you that all night if I have to. I’ll tell you all night.”

The grocery store plays jazz, and the storm starts to break, rain falling down on the roof of the grocery store.

Charlie tucks a slip of paper into your purse, an address. His new address, just outside of town.

You part ways.

 If a breeze caresses me

It's really you strolling by

If I hear a melody

It's merely the way you sigh

 “I never thought I could have this, you know.” He says with a sigh, hours later.

You followed the address right to his front door, a stunning two-story painted all white.

It was empty, painfully empty.

But there would be time, time for love, time to fill it with memories.

“Have what?” You ask, your head on his shoulder.

All he’s got in the living room is a love-seat, and a television balanced on a stool. It’s late, much too late, you both have work in the morning, you have to leave and go back to pretending there’s nothing going on here, there’s nothing.

Nothing that anyone can prove.

There’s so much, but nothing anyone can prove.

“You, next to me like this.” He says, resting his cheek on the top of your head, slowly moving to hold your hand in his, intertwine the fingers. “I wanted it for so long, and I know – I know that makes me a bad person. But it’s true.”

“You remember that time I couldn’t babysit Henry because I had a date? Like a year ago?” You say softly, watching as the blue glow from the television casts shadows on the wall.

“Yeah.” Charlie says, says it like he’s angry, like he’d rather not remember.

“It went really well, they were nice and funny and interesting. They complimented my outfit and my hair and asked about what I did and had genuine questions about my hobbies. We talked about politics and celebrities and the national news and the community gossip and we were on the same page about everything. I never called them back.” You continue, looking down at your intertwined hands.

“How come?” He whispers, watching you trace his knuckles with your free hand.

“Because the entire time, all I could think about was you.” You glanced up, eyes wet, nervous. So nervous that now, even after all this, after everything, he’d reject you, get mad at you.

Instead, he kisses you, and your body feels like it’s on fire, like the lightning outside is zipping through you and not the atmosphere.

“It felt like a betrayal, to be out on a date that wasn’t with you. And how fucking stupid was that? To reject someone who seemed perfect on the surface, just because they weren’t you?” You ask, stuck – you were so stuck, a fool. You were a fool for this man. “I never thought I would know you as anything other than my best friend, my neighbor. And still, the whole time I just wanted to be with you, a married man.”

“I’m not married anymore.” Charlie says, says it like it’s a secret, like he hasn’t said it out loud yet.

Maybe he hasn’t.

“No, you’re not.” You agree, run your finger over the spot where the wedding ring used to live.

“I haven’t felt married in a long time.” He confesses, and you can’t help but let out a sad laugh at that.

“I know.” You say, “If you had, I don’t think you’d’ve even taken one look at me.”

“Yes, I would’ve.” Charlie shakes his head, reaches his free hand up and presses the pads of his fingers to your cheek, just the lightest of touches.

It’s so late, late enough that it might as well be morning.

You knew you could call in to work tomorrow, tell them something came up – but Charlie couldn’t. Charlie was important, was needed. So many people needed Charlie.

“I didn’t bring any night-clothes.” You say, just to have something to say, just to talk to him.

You loved talking to him.

“You can wear something of mine.” He says with a frown, but you chuckle a bit.

“Charlie.” You raise your eyebrows, and he gets it, picks up the hint.

“Oh!” He says, too loud, startling the both of you. “Oh, or we could both wear nothing.”

“I don’t want to pressure you into anything, I just thought – ” You immediately backtrack, not wanting to push him into what you want, not wanting to make him feel obligated.

“You’re not! Believe me, you’re not.” He says, squeezes your hand tight, casts his eyes down in embarrassment. “It’s just been a while…since I’ve had sex.”

“Me too.” You re-assure him, sad for him.

If he were your husband, you’d want to have sex with him every day.

You don’t say it out loud, but he hears it anyway.  

“Okay.” He nods, turns off the tv.

Wherever you are, you're near me

You dare me to be untrue

Funny, each time I fall in love

It's always you

 He kisses you in the dark of the living room, strips you naked.

He unwraps you like a present, one he’s been looking forward to all year, one he takes his time opening because even the wrapping-paper is precious.  

Your hands shake as they unbutton his clothes, and he kisses you to help you relax, he kisses to help his own hands calm themselves, calm himself.

It’s the first time his hands can touch you like this, can reveal you to him like this, he needs to kiss you.

The bedroom is even more scarce, nothing but a bed against the wall.

“Can I touch you?” He asks, sounding so pained, like he would shatter if you said no.

You’re half asleep, tucked under the covers and pressed against his warm frame, soaking up the heat that his body radiates. You don’t really hear him, don’t know if you were dreaming it or not, in that state of half asleep.

“Hm?” You blink an eye open, found his lidded ones looking right at you, face so close you almost have to go cross-eyed to see him in the low light.

“You look so soft, can I?” He asks again, mouth so warm as he bridges the gap between you and presses the sweetest of chaste kisses to your lips.

“Please, please Charlie.” You kiss him back, the sound of gentle kisses thrumming in your ears, beating in your chest. “I’ve dreamt about you touching me.”

And it was true, you had – too many nights spent, dreaming of his hands on you. Dreaming of the times when you stole moments at parties, or at ‘chance’ meetings out in the city. Dreaming of the way his touch lingered on your sleeve, or the hem of your skirt, or your shoulders as he helped you into your coat.

You roll onto your back, and Charlie follows, props himself up on his side as his free hand leaves goosebumps in its wake, touch scorching your skin as he lets a hand cup your breast, his thumb toy with your nipple.

“I don’t know how I’m going to live here without you,” Charlie says, chin wobbling as he shuffles closer to you, kisses your bare chest, “Be in this bed without you.”

You pull him to lay his head on your sternum, encourage him to bury his face into your chest and breathe you in. You run a hand through his hair as he peppers kisses all over you, years and years of waiting for this.

“You won’t have to, not for long.” You reassure him, although not sounding so convinced yourself, “We just need a little time, a little more time so it doesn’t reflect poorly on you, on your career.”

The last thing you want is for people to think badly of him. Charlie is the least bad person you know, but people love to gossip. They love to hop on a rumor and run with it, they love to expose and destroy and you want none of that for Charlie – none of it.

So if you have to wait, you would wait. Charlie is having none of it.

“I’ve wasted so much time being apart from you as it is.” He whispers, listening to your heartbeat for a moment.

The thunder has subsided now, the storm passing, leaving nothing but the gentle patter of rain in its wake.

“You’ve got me now, Charlie I promise.” You whisper back, “I promise you’ve got me. Touch me, please?”

His hands shake as he trails them down your chest, down your stomach, between your legs. You suck in a breath of anticipation and spread your thighs, just enough so he can dip his fingers in between the warm folds of your cunt.

“You have to tell me,” He says, licking his lips as he shuffles even closer, his stomach now pressing up against your side, “You have to tell me what you like, how you like it. I want to make you feel so fucking good.”

You loop your arms around his neck, reach up to kiss him. God he is such a good kisser, his lips are perfect for it, perfect. His tongue is hot and insistent as he pulls noises out of your throat, you can only imagine that tongue shoved in your pussy.

Maybe you’d ask for it – you could ask for things now, you could have them.

You could have him.

“Three,” You gasp against his mouth, “Three fingers and I’ll come – you’ll make me come.” You say, and he moans, moans at the thought.

“Fuck,” He sighs, doing as you tell him, starting off with one…then two, “I’ve thought about it, what you look like, how you sound when you come. When I jerk off in the shower it’s to the thought of you crying out my name, say my name?”

“Charlie!” You gasp when he pumps those fingers in and out of you, eyes shut tight because you can’t bear the pleasure of it, “Oh yes, please? Please!”

“You’re so sweet, so sweet for me.” He murmurs, in awe, as he adds the third finger. “C-can I – ?”

His cock is hard against your thigh where he’s pressed against you, and you’re already nodding before he can even finish asking.

“I don’t want to wait any more.” You gasp, moan, keen for him.

His hands are so big, his cock is even bigger. How was he not constantly getting laid?

“I don’t have – fuck I’m so stupid, I don’t have anything.” Charlie pulls away just a minute, unsure what to do, trying to think.

“It’s okay, it’s okay I’m – ” You swallow, your throat clicks, “I’m on the pill.”

He breathes a sigh of relief, moves to lay on top of you, props his weight up on his hands.

You smooth your hands down his back, feel the way his muscles move as he bends down to kiss you. He’s so hungry for you, you can taste it.

“Next time, I’ll get some for next time.” He promises, and a jolt goes through you.

Next time, there’ll be a next time.

“Do you want me on my – ” You start, but he shakes his head, desperate.

“No, stay like this, please?” He asks, “I want to look at you, I want to see you.”

And you grin, heart beating wildly. You nod, smiling too wide, that smile that drops into a gasp as he runs the head of his cock against the folds of your pussy, as he pushes in.

He’s everything you thought he would be, as he fucks you.

“Yes, oh – yes! Fuck.” You can’t help but moan, but sigh.

He’s not rough with you, you’re too precious to him for that, but he takes what he wants – what he needs.

You’re glad to give him what he needs, glad that he needs you, your cunt.

He savors this, like he does everything with you, and there’s a thrill that this doesn’t have to be a secret, not for much longer.

You don’t know how long you both last before you’re coming, before you’re clenching down around him and sweating against his skin, panting against his lips. He swallows your moans, eats them whole, kisses and sucks at your lips, your neck, your shoulders.

“I’m going to come.” He warns you, but you claw at him, desperate for him to stay as close to you as possible.

“You can come in me, it’s okay Charlie.” You tell him, can barely get the words out.

He comes, groans your name as he does.

You swear you can feel wetness on your neck from where he must be crying against you, so overwhelmed with everything.

You pet through his hair, feel his come pulse inside you, feel so wholly and completely his.

If a breeze caresses me

It's really you strolling by

If I hear a melody

It's merely the way you sigh

 “I’m going to want this all the time.” He sighs, a few moments later, once he’s regained his own ability to speak.

“Want what?” You ask, and he pulls out of you, collapses down onto the mattress, not moving an inch away from you if he can help it.

“You.” He says with a smile, “Here, with me. In my bed. My come in you. And the second this whole fucking divorce blows over, I’m going to want you at the theater with me, I’m going to want you walking down the street with me, going out to dinner with me – me and Henry.”

“He’s going to be mad at me.” You sigh, thinking about Charlie’s son.

You were terrified, once he finds out what you did, how you broke up his family.

“He loves you.” Charlie frowns, holds your face in between his hands, “He really fucking loves you. You know, one of the reasons he wanted to stay living with Nicole? Because that house is next door to you.”

“No he didn’t.” You whisper, in disbelief.

“Yes, he really did.” He insists, “You’re a genuine friend to him, (Y/N). He doesn’t have many of those. Imagine if you were to…”

“Were to what?” You ask when he trails off.

“Live here, with me.” Charlie says, so soft you almost don’t hear it. “I’d never ask you to move out of your house, but – ”

“I honestly don’t know if I can stay living next to Nicole.” You say, thinking about it, really thinking about it. “Once she finds out about us, about this, it’ll be too uncomfortable to bear, for both of us. I don’t want to hurt her any more than I already have.”

“You could keep the house, rent it to a family. There are tons of families who want a house this close to the city. We could have a green kitchen.” Charlie had been thinking about it too, you can tell.

“Six months.” You say, “Six months after the divorce, I’ll move in. Six months, and then we don’t have to hide anymore.”

There’s a moment of silence, and in the dark you can see Charlie’s wet eyes shine.

“I can do that, I can do six months.” He nods, voice wobbling, filled with hope. “I’d do six years, if I knew – if I knew at the end of it you’d be mine.”

“I’ve always been yours, Charlie.” You promise, and it’s true.

It’s true.

Wherever you are, you're near me

You dare me to be untrue

Funny, each time I fall in love

It's always you

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

Tagging @adamsnackdriver @dreamboatdriver @kyloxfem @solotriplets <33

#reader insert #charlie x reader #marriage story #angst #my writing

[a-second-hand-sorrow]

Emmy’s Headcanons (Richie Tozier X Reader)

WC: 1310

Warnings: Language, mentions of drinking, hints to sex at the end

Summary: Richie’s off to the Emmy’s, however Y/N isn’t going with him.

Tagged: @billhaderlovebot @ashleybees @tozierskaspb @danny-fucking-mercury @ilywthallmyheart

A/N: as y’all know our beautiful boy Bill Hader won his SECOND EMMY!!! it’s very exciting and I had an award-show type prompt in my ask box so I thought in light of that I’d post some Emmy’s stuff for the PRCU. This is set in 2018, so enjoy!!

For anyone who does any work ever relating to television, Emmy’s season is fucking mental. Everyone is itching to see nominations and then when they come out everyone can’t wait for the actual day.

This year, Richie just so happens to be nominated for an Emmy for his latest Netflix special ‘That’s Not Funny’ (he called it that because it’s the thing Y/N says to him the most, other than ‘I love you’ and ‘what the fuck’)

Naturally Y/N was going to be his date to the Emmy’s. Ever since they officially got together they have been each other’s dates to every single red carpet event either one of them went to. 

Y/N thoroughly enjoyed red carpet events with Richie because she always made it her goal to try and get him to crack when he was getting his photo taken. Her go to trick was mocking his red-carpet pose which was absolutely terrible, and Richie has definitely addressed it in interviews: both his terrible pose and his wife’s tendency to get him to break more than John Mulaney. They’re a horrible duo, horrible, like goblins. But he loves them.

Anyway, the slight problem this year was that Y/N was pregnant, and she knew that by September she would be a verified whale and there was no way she was spending the evening at the Emmy’s if she couldn’t drink and was carrying a whole other person inside of her.

However, instead of simply telling Richie that she would be too tired and pregnant to go, she decided to play with him a little. Instead she told Richie that she couldn’t be bothered coming to the Emmy’s just to watch him lose to John. Y/N delivered the news with the straightest face ever, and Richie just lost it.

“Wow, world’s most supportive wife right here. Little Tozier, I hope you’re nicer to me than your mother is.” Richie said, moving his face closer to Y/N’s stomach as he spoke.

“This child will be as bitchy as it wants to be, thank you very much.” Y/N said, clutching her hands over her stomach as Richie rolled his eyes.

“I have to go get fitted for my suit babe, but I will be back. Have fun with the little one.” Richie said, pressing kisses to Y/N’s lips and stomach before leaving the apartment.

“Your dad is just the greatest, baby. Now come on, let’s watch Jeopardy.”

Eventually the night of the Emmy’s rolled around, and Y/N was practically drooling at the sight of Richie in his suit.

“Jesus Rich, they did a good job this year.” She said, eyeing him up and down intently. Richie chuckled, scratching the back of his neck almost bashfully.

“Maybe it’s a good thing you’re not coming tonight. I’d have to spend all night fending you off me.” Richie said, wiggling his eyebrows as Y/N shrugged her shoulders, pulling him into a kiss by the bow tie.

“What can I say? My husband is fucking hot. Now go lose gracefully, babe, and tell John that if I’m not mentioned in his acceptance speech his title of godfather is going to be so revoked.” Y/N said, patting Richie’s chest as he rolled his eyes, kissing her forehead before moving away to get everything together before he left.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/N. I love you.” Richie said, kissing Y/N one last time before getting into the car that waited outside the front of their apartment block. She waved him off, smiling when she felt the baby start kicking. Smart little fucker knows when its dad is leaving.

Y/N went back inside and got settled into bed, wearing her comfiest pyjamas with a mug of hot chocolate resting on her bedside table beside her. She had the TV on the right channel, waiting for the broadcast to begin. Eventually it started, and as it went on she felt herself growing more and more tired, but she knew she had to stay up for Richie’s category.

She stared to drift off, but jolted awake when she heard the announcer read the title of Richie’s category. When the camera cut to Richie when his name was read in the nominee list, he did a little wave before winking at the camera, and Y/N’s heart fluttered slightly, knowing it was for her.

“And the winner is... Richie Tozier!” Y/N’s eyes widened to the size of plates and she let out a cheer, nearly knocking the now empty mug off her bedside table.

“Did you hear that baby? Your daddy is an Emmy winner!” Y/N said, and though the baby didn’t respond she felt a sense of pride wash over her at her husband’s achievement.

On screen, John gave Richie a congratulatory hug as Richie made his way onstage, taking the Emmy with a shocked look on his face.

“I, uh, wow. Christ this thing is real, isn’t it?” Y/N laughed at that, knowing just how shocked Richie must be.

“Um well to start I’d like to thank all the people that helped get me here because I’d be nothing without all of you, so thank you. I’d also like to thank my amazing, beautiful wife Y/N. Unfortunately she isn’t here tonight, because she said, and I quote, “I can’t be bothered coming to the Emmy’s just to watch you lose to John Mulaney.” Very supportive, I know.” The audience burst into laughter, as did Y/N, whose smile was so wide and bright as she sat in bed.

“But in all seriousness, I should be sharing this award with her as she helped me write a good majority of the material that has earned me this award tonight. We’ve been together for about eight years now and they’ve been the best years of my life. She’s the funniest and greatest woman I know, and I really hope little Tozier ends up as much like their mother as possible. Thank you so much, guys!” Richie said, holding up his award before walking offstage to thunderous applause.

Y/N sat in bed, wiping tears from her eyes as she watched the screen in front of her. She loved Richie so so much and she was so glad that he was the man she married.

Y/N ended up staying awake until Richie got home, which was a shock to both of them. When Richie walked into their apartment he was immediately met with a suffocating hug from his wife, who covered his face in kisses before he could even speak.

“Y/N, not that I’m complaining but what are you doing?” Richie asked, looking down at his wife with a confused smile on his face.

“I wanted to stay up and congratulate my Emmy award winning husband! You did it, Rich! God I’m so proud of you.” Y/N said, cupping his face in her hands and pressing a soft kiss to his lips. He kissed back eagerly, moving his hands down her back and resting on her hips.

“Thank you love. Now how about I get you out of those clothes and we do some celebrating of our own, huh?” Richie said cheekily, and Y/N could tell he had had a little bit to drink before coming home, which was to be expected.

“Rich as much as I love the idea, tonight is about you. So relax babe, and let me take care of you.” Y/N said, her hands quickly dropping to the button at the top of Richie’s suit pants. His eyes widened but he nodded eagerly, complying when Y/N pushed him back into their living room armchair, kneeling in front of him.

Richie tipped his head back, thanking every god that would listen for his wonderful, wonderful wife.

#it #it 2019 #it chapter two #it chapter 2 #richie tozier #richie tozier imagine #richie tozier x reader #bill hader #prcu #paper rings #paper rings universe

[alsparaarchive]

𝑺𝒖𝒓𝒑𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒆 / Alex & Sid

Date: February 7, 2021 Location: Alex’s Winter Garden home in Florida

Summary: Sid flies back after a game with a little surprise for Alex but boy does she have a bigger one for him. “Charlie is yours, Sidney... she’s ours.” 

Date Started: February 5, 2021 Date Completed: still in progress 

Alex Vacant.. it was the only way to describe how Alex went about her day. She was almost glad Sid wasn't around to witness the shock and distress she was in but knowing he would be back is what flared up every ounce of anxiety her body was capable of producing. 99.99998%... she couldn't even tell you how many times she stared down at those numbers on her phone from the email she received that morning. At first she was ecstatic, so relieved that the one person she would've chosen to have a child with in the first place was actually Charlie's father but with all that came the crippling realization that Sidney didn't even know there was a possibility. She had stolen so much time from him out of fear that she wouldn't be his and her worst nightmare was finding out after Sid already thought he was and having to take that all away from him. There was no right way to go about it, not really, just the way she did it and perhaps the way he would've preferred she done things which of course scared the fuck out of her. They had finally gotten back to this good place, she was happier than ever with the way things seemed to be going between them, and now this? She knew this would strain them, that there was a strong possibility he would hate her once she told him and that's what kept her so distraught all day. For most of it she felt paralyzed, almost nothing she wanted to get done was accomplished including fixing herself up and changing out of her loungewear from the night before but at least Charlie's basic needs were tended to. It's just that she wasn't her usual self with her daughter; She wasn't bouncing around and playing with her like she normally would. She couldn't, her mind was too preoccupied by running the million different scenarios of how telling him could possibly go. She knew which one she hoped for but the footballer was a realist, she knew the chances of that were next to none. Alex debated calling her mom or her sisters for advice but it didn't feel right that they would know before Sidney. He deserved to be the first and so every time she picked up her phone to call or text one of them she just sighed and put it back down resisting the urge to throw it against the wall. She was at such a loss and didn't know the first thing to do with herself. The brunette hadn't cried yet, just stewed in her anxiety which only seemed to get ten times worse the moment she saw headlights through the curtains in her living room — him pulling into the driveway. She wasn't ready but was this really something she'd ever be ready to tell him? Alex took a deep breath trying to shake out the nerves before he came inside. She didn't want to make it immediately obvious especially without knowing what kind of mood he was going to walk through the doors in, that would probably play a very key factor.

Sidney It was good to finally be getting out of New York. Sure, there was still one more game to be had on the island, but for now Sid was coming back… home. It was surprisingly how quickly his brain had taken over and filled in the gap for him. Not that he minded. It was true. Which was probably a little crazy, but Sid just didn’t care. He liked where his head was at right now with Alex. Clear, decided… optimistic. Yes, long gone was that false narrative he’d convinced himself of, that he needed to be unhappy… that he needed to spend a life without her… just because she’d had a baby with someone else. Or that even before then, that she didn’t want him as much as he might’ve wanted her… No, he wasn’t doing that to himself anymore. He’d made up his mind now. So, when Alex had mentioned the idea of maybe moving in with her and Charlie for the rest of the season, he’d hadn’t hesitated to say yes. It wasn’t like he hadn’t already planned on making her a set of extra keys for his Pittsburgh house for Valentine’s Day… or anything…. “Yeah, mom it’s me… I’m with Alex in Florida— I don’t know if she’s got— okay, okay I’ll check... sure, yeah I’ll give her your number again. I’m sure she’s still got it— oh your new number, okay…” hadn’t he called her? “Mom, I needed to know if you and dad were going away in the— uh, because we might be— yes, mom… Alex and I, might be making a trip… no, I don’t think… okay, I’ll ask…” he tuned out. Connecting eyes with another man sitting opposite him, who seemed to share his pain and gave him a sympathy smile after mouthing the word ‘mom’ in his direction. “Yeah, yeah… look I’ll call you next week and we can talk about it some— yes, mom. I’ve met Alex’s baby… I don’t know? A baby. She’s cute, funny… a baby?” What did his mom want him to say about Charlie? She was acting like Charlie was — ‘Flight 55 to Orlando, Florida is now boarding at Gate 48.’ “Mom, I’m boarding… I’ve got to go… I’ll call you. Love you too.” He snapped his phone closed. Grabbing up his carry on; this time with more than a couple of shirts he wouldn’t mind losing to Alex inside of it and a penguins onesie for Charlie, as he walked over to the first class check in and got on board. He would’ve liked to sleep on the flight down, but the idea of seeing Alex in only couple of hours kept him energised… He felt like he was some sixteen year old kid finally getting to see his girlfriend again after spending the entire summer away at some Hockey Camp… he was ‘giddy’ Which seemed a little embarrassing now that he’d put a word to it, but he couldn’t find another… at least not one as accurate. After picking up his rental from the airport kiosk, he made his way over to the BMW, throwing his bag in and heading off in the direction of Alex’s address. By now the guards knew just to wave him in with a smile, so it wasn’t long before he was pulling up outside her house and grabbing his bag back out again. Walking inside with the aid of the key she’d given him a few days ago, Sidney looked around and smiled when he saw her. Giddy. He dropped his bag… walking over to her… his smile big and goofy… but he didn’t care, “hi.” Hands wrapping around her he enveloped her into a hug before his hands found her face and he pulled her lips towards his own… “mmm…” he pulled back, his thumb brushing over her cheek, just before… “hold that thought…” Or kiss. Whatever was about to come up next between them, because he had a surprise. Walking back over to his bag he dug in and found the onesie he’d got management to help organise earlier… “okay close your eyes…” he wasn’t sure if she had or she hadn’t, but he didn’t mind as he turned back around and placed it in her hands… “surprise!”

Alex A good mood might've been expected but this... god, the way he lit up walking through those doors and seeing her face. Alex's heart both swelled about six times and then plummeted all the way into her stomach. She wished so badly she could be as giddy as he was about their little reunion even if it had only been a couple days but she was still too anxiety stricken to be even half as energized as he was about the whole thing. Still she smiled when he wrapped his arms around her and she did the same, rubbing his lower back with her hands as they hugged. She wished they could stay like that so much longer, let her find some comfort and maybe some air to breathe but just as he was quick to pull her in, he was pulling away and going in for a kiss which would've been just as nice had he not stopped it to go grab whatever surprise he had for her. More sweets from the airport maybe? This is where Alex's giddy little laugh would've come in, she would've shut her eyes with the biggest smile on her face and asked what it was before he ever got the chance to put it in her hands. Maybe he'd know something was wrong by the way she stayed silent instead; she did close her eyes as requested but there was nothing as she waited, almost just as vacant as she'd been all day. When Alex opened her eyes she felt as though she had taken a cleat to the gut, the wind completely knocked out of her. It was too adorable the way he was now always thinking about Charlie, too. In his mind she wasn't even his and yet here he was doing things like /this./ It shouldn't have been so overwhelming but given everything it was so much more than she could handle and brought the striker to her breaking point. "Sid.." tears overflowed in her eyes and for the first time maybe ever since crying in front of him she didn't try to stop it. She couldn't. She felt the soft fabric in her hands, her fingers running over the Penguin's logo as she tried desperately to collect herself and her thoughts. Maybe if she had kept her cool she could've enjoyed being with him a little bit before having to tell him but now that didn't seem like much of a possibility. "Sid, I have to tell you something." Her hand slid down his arm, taking his hand in her own and lead him over to the couch. "You should probably sit down." She knew how precarious it all sounded but how else could she possibly broach the subject? She went over it all day in her head and still had no idea the right way to tell him. As he went to sit down Alex picked up her phone from the coffee table in front of them and re-opened the email. She sat down next to Sidney and held his hand, taking a deep breath. All she had to do was get it out and once she did he'd know. Their lives forever changed. It felt unfair of her to do this to him not knowing if it's a way he would have wanted his life to change but it's not like she had been ready for a baby either when she found out she was pregnant, not that it made this any better. Wiping away some tears, her hands shaking, she began to speak. "I'm not sure if you ever really did the math. If there was ever a question in your mind, a tiny inkling or anything? Because if there was you've never expressed it and I guess that's probably because you assumed I would've told you." She realized she probably wasn't making much sense so she reeled it back in. "I didn't want to tell you without being sure and up until the other night there was no way of me being sure because we weren't in each other's lives but I swear I'm telling you this the same day I found out. I didn't want to hide it from you I just... Sid, I don't even really know the right way to say this but ... "she held out the phone to him showing him the email that very clearly stated it was a paternity test with a 99.99998% match. More tears falling now as he was probably starting to put it all together in his mind. "Charlie is yours, Sidney. She's ours.."

#( Alex & Sid: 003. )