#back to where he started ( more or less ) but he's got a very Frank Sinatra 'My Way' view on the whole thing so it's fine.

[arealtrashact]

Fearful symmetry

[kairiscorner]

Tangina I'm imagining a scenario where u take Noir to a Zild or any rock concert in general and he just gets dragged in a mosh pit 💀

oh no 😭now i've never been to a concert, much less have been to a mosh pit, but i kinda thought of how this might play out :') (please remember these are just hcs btw guys !!)

when you found out peter have never attended a concert or any big musical event in his life, you decided to give him the show of a lifetime and take him to your favorite artist's concert that you were planning to see for yourself for the longest time.

he was confused at first as to why you'd wanna watch a concert over just watching the live stream or a video recording of it at the comfort of your home where it was safe, but you explained to him that the feeling of having been there, the memories being made with fellow fans like you who appreciated the music, and the thought of having been there at the very venue where the concert would be held--making history as your favorite artist tops records and breaks more limits--it feels exhilarating.

peter would find himself still feeling a little confused as to why a concert seemed more preferable to you when his main concern was the crowds and how rowdy they seemed, but apart from that, he would love to go with you if it meant you'd be happy.

you told him he was super tall already, towering over you and having the ability to just pick you up off the ground at any given time and just carry you to wherever, so finding him wouldn't be the issue. however, it soon proved that no matter how tall he'd be, in all the excitement and rowdiness, peter had lost sight of you within the crowds.

"love?" he'd call for you as the mosh pit started to form, with people jostling against each other and cramming from here to there, dancing and shaking against each other violently as the noise from the stage and the audiences became one big mesh of noise for peter to barely even focus on. he'd be super overwhelmed, and you'd feel horrible for having left when you were told the mosh pits were forming, but you wouldn't leave without him.

you tread through the people in the mosh pits, getting bumped from here and there, getting sandwiched in between some people aggressively dancing, and sometimes getting pushed out of the wave and having to come back in. it was very exhausting, but soon, you caught sight of your beloved's dark clothing and called out to him.

"peter!" you exclaimed as you tried reaching him, but got bumped by other moshers in the pit, losing sight of him and was at a risk for being stampeded. "love!" peter called back as he heard you. he turned around to look for you, and he watched in horror as your hand descended down further into the mass of bodies in the wave of this mosh pit.

peter had enough at this point and shoved his way out of the mosh pit, hoping you wouldn't be hurt. he did elbow and push a few people out of the way, but he didn't care anymore--your safety was a priority here.

he spotted you, laying down on the ground, but fortunately, you were more than less okay. peter carried you in a bridal style fashion and told you with a chuckle, "this was fun and all, but i'd rather dance to frank sinatra or louis armstrong with you at home, love." he said as he felt you hold on to him. you smiled at that notion, but your smile slowly faded away as you thought back on what just happened. "i'm sorry for leaving you there..." you murmur as peter puts his hat on you as he runs off, shoving people out of the way as they nearly bumped into him and you.

"love, don't be sorry. you gave me the thrill and scare of a lifetime! be sorry for the scare, but the thrill... i know you meant well. you didn't know this'd happen, not like that. i'm glad we came, really, and i'm just glad you're okay." he said as he got you two out of the mosh pit and looked at you in the eyes.

"well... can you, um... keep holding me like this? until we get to the car?" you asked him as he chuckled. "why, if you'll save me a dance at home after dinner, then... i don't see why not." he said as you blushed and kissed his cheek.

you'd rather take dancing to old-timey classics over bumping into people while you danced, at least it'd be with your loving peter in the sweet, serene ambience of your comfortable home, with you in his arms and his hands on your waist.

a/n: BRIDAL STYLE....... <333 man i wanna go to a concert at least once, but i don't wanna experience being in a mosh pit i'm sorry TT

tags !! @thecoolerdor @miguelswifey04 @k4tsu3 @luvstarrstruck @connors-cumslurper @maxoloqy

[allthemusic]

Week ending: 1 July 1954

Two songs this week, both from old friends with Italian-looking names. I'm realising now that this might also be part of the Italian trend - both of today's artists are using their actual names, or at least seem to be blessed with a genuinely Italian-looking name (looking at you Al Mar- sorry, Jasper Cini). But still, it's clearly the sort of name that sells!

Idle Gossip - Perry Como (peaked at No. 3)

This is a slow and fairly subtle song, with a few interesting moments keeping you on your toes, right from the outset. Even there, in the intro, we've got a shift from a major to a more minor chord, arpeggiated in a way that weirdly sounds a bit like a more classical, less synthy version of the Stranger Things theme (no, just me?)

The volume also shifts around, and continues to do so throughout this song, just like the harmonies do - giving a sense of instability and uncertainty, like the song's mistrustful and can't quite settle down. And in among it all, Perry, fittingly, singing about so called "friends" spreading nonsense about him and his partner's relationship: "Should they say our love is through / That's idle gossip".

It briefly makes me wonder if maybe there's a reason for this - is there some reason people are assuming Perry and his love are on the out? The only hint we get is in the next verse, where Perry asserts that "We'll still carry on as though / Our love affair has just begun", purely to prove a point. This suggests to me that they've been together a while, and the insinuation is that their relationship's getting a bit stale? Evidently, Perry doesn't belive this to be the case - and so it's time to take action.

They go out for a walk and kiss, so as to start some new rumours, giving us the supremely cheesy line that "In their idle gossip/ They may say that I love you / And this time / Idle gossip will be true". Cute? Nauseating? Both?

It's nice, but nothing that massively stands out. I like the theme of ignoring rumours or proving something to the world, and I generally like songs about stable, steady relationships that last. I think they're generally very sweet, and I do like the idea of this song. The song's also very pretty, with lots of quiet strings and muted brass in the instrumental section, and shifts to unexpected notes that just kind of work. It doesn't rock my world, but it is nice.

It feels like a Frank Sinatra song, actually - I think because a few lines sound like a specific line from Fly Me to the Moon? It also feels quite Sinatra-esque in its sentiment - I could see him doing a really good, convincing job of this. Perry Como's not quite in the same vocal league, in my books, but he does an okay job.

A solid, okay job, for a solid, okay song.

Wanted - Al Martino (4)

And then, like déjà vu, this song again. I couldn't find this on Spotify, meaning I had to pull it up on YouTube, that's how forgotten and unloved this one is.

I don't think it helps that it's a repeat. These repeat songs feel like a recurring feature, and I don't care much for it, not least because I have to come up with something new to say about each version. The last version was a Perry Como original, and I have to say, it's very similar to this one. Al has not put much of a stamp onto this, like you'd expect from a cover version today.

It's perhaps a little less orchestral and dramatic, less sweeping strings and more creeping double bass, which I think is a slight improvement? I don't know, while I found Perry's backing singers a bit too much, they did at least give the track some interest. This version is pretty dull through to the one and a half minute mark, where a saxophone solo begins.

The sax solo is nice, in a laid-back, swing-y way, and the clarinets near the end are also a nice touch. There are also some cute chimes at the end, which are fun. Still, there's not much that sets this version apart from Perry's earlier version. They both got to the same chart position, so apparently the British public agreed - or were split on which version they wanted, at least.

Al's version is a bit more bloodless, I guess? Perry at least felt like he was trying to get some emotion out of the track. Al's version feels like it's an exercise in writing and singing a metaphor. I don't buy for a minute that idea that he's actually broken up over this woman.

Well, neither of those songs were bad, but I wouldn't go out of my way to listen to them again, especially not the strangely hard-to-come-by Al Martino one. File them under okay, but nothing special. One wins a few points simply for novelty value, though.

Favourite song of the bunch: Idle Gossip

[lilithandroses]

𝙗𝙤𝙨𝙨 𝙗𝙖𝙠𝙪𝙜𝙤𝙪 + 𝙖𝙛𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙨

cw: 18+ nsfw, coercion, slight dub-con, power dynamics, oral, slight voyeurism, virgin reader, afab reader, she/her pronouns. bakugou is in his 40's here, reader is in her 20's. all instances of lower-case letters are intentional here.

this is a dark blog, dni if you are a minor or if you're uncomfortable!

"leaving?" the familiar gruff voice sent shivers down your spine, straightening up to speak to him. never speak to mr. dynamight with an attitude, you've learned that much from seeing a few co-workers lose such a promising position. "yes, just packing a few things sir." your voice was small, but attentive. there was another grunt as bakugou fixed the watch on his wrist, looking at the time.

"need ya to do a few things for me." he said with a slight spitefulness in his voice, your eye twitched but you couldn't let the annoyance show, not in the slightest. not when you're so close to becoming the pr manager. (he's been saying that for the past two months.)

"alright sir." he shifted in his spot at the response, you noticed your mistake after a few seconds. "s-sorry, i meant, that's ok mr. dynamight." he began to walk in the direction of his office, prompting you to start following behind. the soft glow of the computers and the buzzing and humming of the air conditioning resonated through the building. you end up in the lobby, where another lazy-eyed employee was making her leave, choosing to take the stairs instead upon seeing you with your boss.

bakugou pushed the button to call the elevator down to the 8th floor from the 23rd, which left the both of you standing in silence whilst waiting. you spared him a glance, not expecting his eyes to meet yours. "you've been doing what again?" of course, he didn't really care much for what the workers do. the attempt at small talk makes you uncomfortable.

just his presence alone has you feeling dizzy, you have to plant your heels into the carpet flooring to ground yourself. "i do public relations sir." "right, tch." the lobby fell silent with that same familiar buzzing sound. you could hear the cars passing by outside, wishing that you were out there now. realization struck you as you remembered you would be stuck with him again for another minute to go up to the 23rd floor.

a silent groan left your lips as the door slid open. bakugou let you walk in first, looking down the hallway cautiously before walking in himself. he pushed the button for the floor in which his office was on, you've only been in there once or twice for a few inside jobs he would assign you. all you can remember is that it's absolutely luxurious, and has a good view of tokyo.

would be nice if he'd throw you over his desk-

you puffed your cheeks out with a very audible squeak to rid of the unholy and unprofessional thoughts. he furrowed his eyebrows at you in concern as you muttered a quick "sorry." bakugou shrugged, going back to staring at the ceiling lights of the elevator, remembering to order an electrician for the flickering bulbs.

where did such thoughts of him come from? all you could remember is how much you were incredibly intimidated by your boss. were you turned on by that? your thighs shuffled as a feeling began to pool in your tummy. 'alone time with the hitachi wand it is tonight.' you thought to yourself. the intense arousal only got worse as you breathed in what you could smell of him.

the door opened before things could get even more awkward, bakugou allowed you to step out before him once again. the door to his office was just a few doors down to the right, incredibly large mahogany wood double doors with gold-plated handles. intricately carved by only the best craftsman. "just need you to help me sort out a few files, pretty sure ya don't have much better to do at home."

he opened the doors after he passively insulted you, but you could care less that he did. he had soft music playing, some frank sinatra, as a show played on his wall-mounted tv. you looked over to the beautiful view of the night sky outside of the large panels of incredibly strong glass. "beautiful..." you breathed out, hearing footsteps approaching. your face met your boss' chest as you turned to meet him, you stepped back with incredible apprehension.

"i actually brought you up here," he paused, stepping a bit closer to you, "to make a deal." were you finally getting promoted? your body began to slightly tremble with clear excitement. you looked up at your boss with those wide doe eyes. "you're working in the pr department, you should know that..." he stopped again, choosing his words wisely as to not scare you away, "me having a significant other can boost my public image, no?" your eyebrows raised, that wasn't what you were exactly expecting, but bakugou gave you a moment for the gears to turn in your head.

"oh." it finally dawned on you what exactly he was getting at. "took your ass long enough." he grunted. "b-but why me? there are so many other eligible women." bakugou seemed just about ready to get annoyed, you should've just said yes by now. "you're pretty, smart, you'll know exactly what to say in front of those cameras, and i've had my eyes on you for a while doll face." he eyes you like a hunter to his prey. "think about it, you live with me in a huge mansion, you get a promotion like you've wanted, benefits everywhere you go. and who doesn't want to wake up every morning beside me?" he grins cockily.

it's a wonderful offer, you felt your heart flutter when bakugou admitted to liking you. but you weren't inclined to be in front of the spotlight, the thought alone made you shiver. how much of your privacy would be gone, daily life would become a hassle. reluctantly, you shook your head no, about to voice your concerns when bakugou pulled you in to kiss you harshly. the fire that had already been ignited in your tummy burned even brighter, the flames threatening to push you over the edge. you gripped his bulky and impressive biceps to hold yourself, moaning softly at the way he'd gnaw at your bottom lip.

bakugou lifted you up to take you into his arms while he continued his assault on your sore, plump lips. you felt so light-headed, this has been your dream for the longest time. but you felt a voice that was telling you to not let this escalate, that this could be poor for his image. he put you down on the desk that still had papers on top, momentarily taking a breath before diving back in. you put your hand on his chest. "sir, this isn't something you'd want. i don't want to ruin your reputation." bakugou put on a scowl, "who gives a fuck?" he interrupted whatever you were going to say next with another harsh peck, tongue poking at your lips to be granted access.

your panties were soaked, and your nipples were evidently hard through your dress shirt. your tongues danced in perfect synchronization, your eyes opened to see his own, half-lidden crimson orbs telling you exactly what he wanted. you felt the need to tell him that you were a virgin, but you were afraid it would ruin the perfect moment. bakugou pulled back to stare at you, flushed and sweating underneath him. "so sexy." he brings his head to your jaw to place a few light kisses, then slowly he went down further to bite at your neck, suckling with a slight amount of roughness but not exactly leaving hickeys, that would wait until later.

you wanted to release more noises, to let him know that you were enjoying it, but you were too shy. you were whimpering and gasping as you pawed at his blond locks. you felt his tongue drag over the spots that he bit at, the saliva sticking to your skin and cooling down. suddenly, he growled which alarmed you a bit. you noticed he was fixing his pants which sported a wonderful bulge. "fuck, i don't think i can hold back much longer princess." he stood up straight to unbuckle his belt, pushing his pants down enough to expose his length which stood up straight and tall.

you were practically drooling over him, hearing him chuckle snapped you out of your daze. "oi, never seen one of these before?" bakugou teased. "not exactly..." you whispered. he smiled an uncharacteristically soft smile. "touch it. i'll teach you how to please a man." you sat up to do what you were told. your fingertips curiously rubbed at the very tip of his leaking cock, gathering the white fluids to observe it. he groaned softly, anticipating your next move. you wrapped your hand around his shaft, noting how hot it felt, twitching underneath your grasp. "a-ah-" you gasped, mesmerized.

"move your hand." bakugou ordered, you followed, starting with slow and steady movements. you only had porn to go by, which wasn't much but exaggerated facial expressions and noises. up and down, up and down, you repeated the motion with a newfound sense of determination. you wanted him to cum on you, to cover your face with whatever he had to give you. this side of bakugou wasn't one that you were expecting to see in a million years, but how fortunate were you? his face red, him biting back moans and groans.

you moved your hand faster, it had no rhythm to it but it did feel good so the male above you didn't complain. he felt the rush of his high coming, and you could tell with how much more sensitive he got. but bakugou stopped you before he could release, panting breathlessly. "open your mouth doll." your lips parted on demand, he rested his tip on your tongue for a moment to prepare you for the rest. as his cock pushed into your wet and dripping cavern, you got a taste of his precum. the musk coming from his length made in between your legs ache once again.

"atta girl..." bakugou praised, holding your head with both of his hands. you felt like choking, the size being overwhelming but you held back, tears springing up at your eyes. your tongue began to swirl around whatever it could, you looked up to him with a lust-filled gaze that only turned him on more. you pulled off of him, "use me as you'd like." you whispered, going back to engulf his cock. he began to thrust in your mouth, using your hole to get himself off. bakugou had flings here and there, but it was impressive how a virgin could make him feel better than any of the experienced ones. he moaned shakily, teeth clenching as an attempt to keep his composure.

bakugou was already close from the handjob you gave him, soon enough he held your head in place to welcome his hot cum into your mouth, the flavor overwhelming your senses. you coughed around his length, prompting him to slide it out of your mouth so you could recover. you took a breath, grimacing at the slight pain in your jaw and lungs. "we're not done." he said, gripping your thighs to part them. "ever thought of having sex where thousands of people could see you?"

©lilithandroses, do not repost any of my works anywhere without permission (ao3, wattpad, etc.)

[emwritesstuff]

as the world caves in | ch. 9 | bucky barnes x reader

synopsis: You are a ghost story. A former Air Force pilot who had her plane shot down by Germany in 1945, but here you were in 2023, alive and frozen in your 25-year-old body.

You haven’t seen Bucky since the 1940’s, before his fall, before you went on a suicide mission only to come back alive. You aren’t sure reliving those memories – and being a living memory of everything the man has lost – is the best for him.

But you and Bucky won’t be apart for long.

This will loosely follow the plot of TFATWS - so spoilers ahead, specially regarding episode six (finale). Thread carefully!

masterlist | AO3

notes:  thank you everyone for your patience with this chapter. I'm dropping this lil shortie so we can get the story moving. Let's go! (warnings: lil' fluff, lil' angst) (word count: 3K) nine: records

Bucky knocked on your door a few weeks later.

It was late, and you were snug in your pajamas, winding down after a long day. With your identity no longer a secret, the government was in the midst of transferring you to something more… hands-on, and definitely less diplomatic, you were assuming; so much for retirement, but you figured 30 years of it had been more time than you could’ve anticipated.

You almost didn’t hear the soft rapping on wood over Vera Lynn’s mellow singing.

When you finally opened it, you found him standing there, wearing tired eyes and a dark coat. “I’m sorry, I know it’s late, but I started walking and I—"

“When I said you’re welcome anytime, Bucky Barnes, I meant any time.”

A tiny fraction of a smile was offered your way, and you grasped it tight against your heart at the same time you do his hand, pulling him inside.

His fingers lingered on yours, but before you could start thinking about it he pulled away, taking a seat at the edge of your couch. “I finished it. The book.”

Bucky answered your question before you could ask it. “I just came from there. The last one– the last name.”

“Well. Are you alright?” You sat next to him, your knee knocking against his, and his gaze went from the floor, to the spot where your legs touched, and then to you. He knitted his eyebrows, seeming a little incredulous you were even asking.

“I will be.” His hands intertwined on the space between his knees, and you placed a hand ton his shoulder, getting him to look at you again.

“Yes, you will. Do you want to talk about it?”

One corner of Bucky’s lip raised up, and he shook his head. “Is that Vera Lynn?”

You smiled, turning to look at your record player as if Vera herself was sitting next to it. “It is. Takes me back, I guess.”

“It’s all we’d listen to at the front.”

Nodding, you wondered for a second if Bucky remembered dancing to We’ll Meet Again the night before he was shipped off. Even if you weren’t the only girl he had danced with then, you still asked yourself if that memory was burned on his mind as it was on yours.

We'll meet again, don't know where, don't know when. A short-term promise, made back then by hopeful lovers, friends, family members; you had no idea that those lyrics would prove themselves so literal when you and Bucky mouthed them at each other in the middle of a dancefloor.

You let out a breathy chuckle, standing up and beckoning him to where you kept the rest of your vinyl. “Come on. Vera’s starting to feel a little too nostalgic to me.”

Your record collection was pretty extensive, ranging from things of the good ol’ days from the special editions that were still being released nowadays. Bucky joined you on the floor, and together you started to make your way through decades eternized in discs.

“Marvin Gaye.”

You look up from The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust, finding Bucky making a face at the album he was holding. “It’s really good. Do you want to—”

“No. No more Marvin Gaye.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “You don’t like him?”

“I like Marvin Gaye! Jesus. Marvin is good—Marvin’s jus’ fine,” Bucky rubbed his eyes with his thumb and middle finger, and you finally understood.

“Sam’s been preaching you the word of R&B to you too, huh?”

You giggled at the tired look he gave you and silently took Trouble Man out of his hands, stuffing it back with the rest of the 1970’s.

Years ago, Bucky would be delighted to dive headfirst in the new – your trips to countless science fairs and expositions were enough proof of that – but looking at him now, knowing him as you were starting to once again, you figured that just a dip of the toes was more than enough.

You pulled Frank Sinatra from the 1950’s section.

“I know Sinatra.”

“Do you now?”

You put the record on your player, and Vera Lynn’s longing gave way to Sinatra’s swagger and jazz.

“Do you?” Bucky teased, frowning at the most recent items in your collection. As soon as Frank’s voice filled the silence, he nodded. “Yeah, that’s nice.”

“I do know him! Or did. Met ‘im in 1962.” You plopped next to Bucky, who was shaking his head. “What?”

“Show off.”

“No, just been around. Met people on the way. And, you asked.” Your smirk grew into a grin as Bucky mouthed your words back at you. Then his face fell for a second, and your amusement was quickly replaced by worry. “What is it?”

“Nothing, I guess – I guess I just missed a lot.” The same way one of the corners of his lips tug on his cheek again in his attempt of a smile, melancholy tugs at your heartstrings. “I missed out on everything. And I missed out on you.”

Bucky’s head was low as he spoke and you could see the tremble of his hands, even though he clutched one of your records tightly. Nina Simone, 1960’s.

“M’not going anywhere, you know.”

“You still lived an entire lifetime—”

“I did, yes, thank you for constantly reminding me that I’m over 100 years old.” You shook your head at him, sighing softly when he chuckled.

You couldn’t blame him, for clinging to every bit of past he’d missed while he was in HYDRA’s clutches – you knew that was inevitable, but you wished that such sorrow wasn’t so related to you.

“What are you doin’?” He asked as you summoned a small stool from the side of your shelf and stepped on it.

“I want to show you somethin’.” The thing you were looking for was stored at the very top: a heavy, brown leather suitcase that almost made you lose your balance when you pulled it from the spot it had been sitting in for—honestly, years, many of them.

The contents of the suitcase rattled as you climbed down and sat next to Bucky again. Sinatra still playing, telling his lover I've got you under my skin, I've got you, deep in the heart of me;

You almost laughed from the truth and irony of it.

I'd tried so, not to give in

I said to myself this affair never will go so well

You unlocked the suitcase, revealing the gathered memories inside. Pictures, movie tickets, theater playbooks, receipts, trinkets. All souvenirs of the 80 something years of your life Bucky hadn’t been there to see.

Not organized in the slightest, the keepsakes of your life were tossed together and out of order just as in your memory: photographs of you in uniform, and sometimes in party dresses; of when you bought your house; of the few times you had pets. Posing next to famous people and other important ones whose names weren’t as well known by the world.

As you and Bucky went through each of them, you added a story or an explanation, sometimes both, to fill him in on the details of your life events. He laughed at some, frowned at a lot, stared at you intently for all of them.

“Is this Berlin?”

You hummed, nodding. “1989. That party was great.”

“Party?” Bucky knitted his eyebrows in surprise.

“The city was unified, the wall was being taken down, and everyone was celebrating. I’ve never seen that many bottles of vodka in one place.” You laughed, taking a good look at yourself in the picture.

The 80’s were definitely not your best decade, looks wise. You had tried a perm the year before, and the poodle look was only then starting to dial down. The beginnings of a bruise were starting to creep on your left eye, from the mission you had completed just a few hours before.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been that drunk.”

Bucky’s surprise intensified, his eyes wide. “We can’t get drunk.”

“Yes we can.”

“No, no we can’t.”

“We can, in fact. It’s all a matter of quantity and, well, speed.” You giggled as Bucky’s mouth gaped more.

“And the hangover?”

“Horrible. Like getting shot on the forehead. Comes quickly, too.”

He grimaced, and with one last look – certainly to register your peculiar appearance on his mind – gently put the picture back inside the suitcase. A stack of papers seemed to call out to him and he picked it up, releasing them from the band that held them together carefully.

Postcards of the places you’ve been: a small note to James Barnes and Steve Rogers on the back of each one.

Bucky’s voice faltered. He let out an anguished little sound, probably something that was supposed to be an Oh, or a What, but had no strength to crawl up his throat.

You brought your knees to your chest as you waited for him.

“You—you wrote to us?”

“I did. You can keep those, they’re addressed to you.”

After all this time, you could barely remember the words you wrote in those postcards; all you knew was that some had longer messages, others a simple Wish you were here.

“After we met in Baltimore, I thought that— that you’d have moved on from us.”

From me.

As if that was possible.

“Well, I stopped writing by 2003, give or take. But really,” You sighed. “It’s hard to forget someone when you’ve always been expecting them to come back to you.”

Bucky flipped the postcard from Rome, read the writing and smiled wistfully at it. “And, I did.”

“You did. And staying away was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but—”

“But you’re annoyingly stubborn.” His jaw tightened, then relaxed when he smirked. “I mean, I get it – If the roles were reversed, I’d leave you rebuild your life without me like a self-sacrificing idiot too.”

Alright. That was fair.

Shaking your head, you watched as he slipped the postcards in his pocket, an amused expression on his face.

“That was… a big mistake. Something a self-sacrificing idiot would do,” You screwed your eyes shut in shame, opening them when Bucky chuckled. “but now, I’m right here. And so are you.”

His stubble scratched the soft skin of your palm when you reached for him, and you continued. “We’re a little out of place in this century, that much is true, but if I’m being honest… I’m getting tired of yearning for the past, Buck.”

Good old times – sometimes really good, sometimes bad, every one of them old – tucked away in your heart like your records were tucked in neatly in their shelf, organized by year. As you went through the decades, your enhanced body eternizing you like marble, your heart seemingly stayed at that army camp overseas. Or maybe Sergeant Bucky Barnes had taken it with him, only for them to be frozen together, leaving you with an empty hole in your chest.

You lived your life longing for that missing piece, the one with blue eyes and the dashing smile and the skilled feet.

The one that in many other stories was the one that got away, the one who now believed he was somebody else, but had brought your heart back with him all the same.

The very heart that nearly leapt out of your chest when Bucky rested his forehead against yours.

You’ve never been this close – there isn’t an ounce of past in the gesture. His eyes being tightly closed kept him from seeing the surprise on your eyes and then how they fell to his lips for a millisecond. Then, those lips brushed against yours in a featherlike touch.

I would sacrifice anything, come what might

For the sake of having you near

He pried himself off you when you exhaled, as if your very breath had electrocuted him.

“M’sorry. I—I didn’t—” He said as you stared at the back of his neck, and the shock gives way to disappointment.

I didn’t mean to. Or maybe: I didn’t want to.

“That’s—it’s okay.” You clapped your hands on your knees, still feeling the prickle of his facial hair on them, and got up to change the music.

There was no doubt Bucky was touch starved, and that he probably craved the closeness that comes with a lover. He sought that for a fleeting second in Sam’s sister, and now in you. No point in dwelling on what it might have meant.

Right?

Looking at Bucky, his expression was overcast, furrowed eyebrows as he watched you from his spot on the floor. You offered him a gentle smile, and the crease on his forehead eased up slightly.

Right.

Don't you know little fool, you never can win

The record player made a scratching sound as you replaced Frank Sinatra with your go-to jazz compilation. Instrumental.

No lyrics.

There was one thing you’ve always been good at, regarding the infatuation with Bucky Barnes that has taken over your heart for almost a century now: locking the feelings away and stepping into the shoes of the best friend.

Besides, you’ve said it yourself: no more yearning for the past. Hopefully you and Bucky would be able to do that soon enough.

At that moment, however, you needed to feel the burn of whiskey down your throat and pretend it’ll heal the calcinating rejection spreading through your chest.

The guilt you found in Bucky’s eyes as he watched you sweep around your hardwood floors made you pour a glass for him.

He took it gratefully, frowning when you bottomed the whole thing up.

“There’s a lot in here.” He tapped the edge of the suitcase, skillfully steering the conversation in the direction of the more palatable, calm territory it was in before.

The sight of your autobiographical collection made you smile.

“An entire lifetime,” You said, fishing your dog tags from the bottom. “I suppose that’s where it started. Or at least, where thisstarted.”

Bucky took them reverentially, running his thumb over the imprint of your name and numbers.

He reached for his neck, producing from under his Henley the same type of metal chain he was holding in his hands. The fact that he still wore his like that sent a sharp blow to your lungs, almost knocking the air out of you.

His face softened, a smile so beautiful spreading across his lips, so much that your chest clenched in protest because it was simply not fair, how he still had you entirely.

He deposited both of your dog tags in your hands, and that’s when you saw it, and remembered it.

“Won’t we get in trouble for this?”

“Do you care?”

“Well…No.” You sighed, already resigned. And a little excited.

Bucky knew you well: it had been too long of being a good little soldier when all you were used to was the rush of being a hellion.

“And that is why, sugar, that I’m doing this with you, and not with Steve.”

The words made your heart soar, but you were sure to recapture it before it could fly away too high, still too attached to the sensation of the take-off to clip its wings.

You liked flying.

“And because Steve hasn’t been successful in his enlisting efforts. Yet.”

Bucky looked at you from behind his eyebrows, a reprimand hiding in his eyes, but he decided to shove his uniform hat on your head instead. You grumbled, calling him a jerk under your breath.

It was the night before Bucky was drafted to England. He looked handsome in his uniform, a shining, polished star, brighter than the sun even under the dim streetlight you two stood under.

After bringing his and Steve’s dates home (yours was lost to another boxing match along the way – not that you were crying about that) Bucky had decided he was going to stay up all night, because, in his words, he could sleep when the war was over. Or, more realistically, in the ship on the way to England.

So there you two were, illuminated by street lamps and moonlight, visiting the façades and front windows of your favorite places in Brooklyn like drifters in the night.

Bucky still concentrated on his task, his shoulder hunched slightly to block your sight.

“Let me see! Bucky!”

“ ’Sposed to be a surprise! I’m almost done.”

You huffed, crossing your arms. “It’s not like I haven’t seen ‘em before.”

“You gotta be more patient. Here.”

He dropped your dog tags on your hand. You displayed the small steel plates on your palm, scanning your eyes over the two. One of them, of course, had your name, number, blood type, next of kin – an aunt you’ve never met – and address.

The other had Bucky’s.

James B Barnes. 32557038.

He slipped his own chain over his head, the plate with your name clinking against his.

You brought the tips of your fingers to your lips, feeling a smile begin to form onto them.

“I forgot we did this. I haven’t looked at these in so long.”

You had stopped wearing your dog tags the day the war had ended – Bucky was gone then, Steve too, and the weight of his dog tags slamming against your chest was too much to bear – your heart was already heavy with its own engraving of their memories.

“Steve had a lecture prepared when he gave mine back.” Bucky chuckled when you looked up at him, incredulous.

You shook your head, half exasperated and half amused. “Good grief, Steve.”

“Y’know how he is. Was,” He trailed, lips twitching as they formed a thin line.

You reached for him, your hand hovering in the space between you for a second before Bucky took it, lacing your fingers. Scooting closer, you let your cheek rest on his shoulder.

“He’d be glad we’re reunited.” You said, raising your head to peek at him and the newfound upwards curl of his lip. “And mortified we’re still bickering.”

Bucky smiled and squeezed your hand. “Old people. Old habits.”

Laughter bubbled out of your chest, and you realized a few things.

In that moment, it didn’t matter – the heartache, the unrequited side of your love. It was just a fact, a fact of life, of your life, that you a lot of the times loved him as more than your best friend. You loved him. And that was the core of it, the most important fact.

And you knew he loved you – you had each other – in this big, ever-changing, modern world, you had Bucky and Bucky had you.

You sat in comfortable, familiar silence until your eyelids grew heavy and you felt yourself drifting in and out of consciousness.

“You dozin’ on me, sugar?”

“It’s been a long day.” You said with your eyes still closed, feeling him chuckle beside you.

“Tell me about it. I can go—”

“You know damn well you should stay.” You patted his arm and hoisted yourself up from the floor. “I’ll get the pull-up ready for you.”

As you sauntered towards the office, ignoring his pleads and protests that he’s got it, he doesn’t need sheets or anything, you put your dog tags back on.

They jingled lightly against your heart.

Maybe you didn’t have to leave all of the past behind to start building something good and new, after all.

[pucksnsticksnhockeyboys]

green frosting

summary: hockey players aren’t known for their domestic skills, and Nolan isn’t an exception.

word count: 2.7k

note from the writer: day four! enjoy this and the other fics from my Christmas masterlist! tagging @bqstqnbruin​ @broadstbroskis​ @nazkadris​ @laurenairay​ @justjosty​ @sorryjustafangirl​ @tayella13​ @wastedheartcth​ @writinghockey​ / add yourself to my taglist

Each year the Christmas season seemed to arrive sooner and sooner until suddenly halfway through October you were seeing videos of people intricately decorating holiday cookies that you had no hope of recreating. Still, you saved the videos for reference when you finally had a moment to do some Christmas baking.

When Nolan told you he had the night off, you jumped on the chance to have him to yourself and told him to meet you at your apartment. It had been a few days since the last time you had gotten him alone as a result of hockey, and you were excited to have him over.

And for the chance to make some cookies.

When Nolan showed up at your place, expecting a night in with a movie and takeout, he wasn’t expecting you to already have on your coat and a bright smile. He was dressed casually, grey sweats and a dark Flyers hoodie, and hat on his head that did little to hide the length that was his hair. Still, despite the relatively plain outfit, he never failed to make your heart skip a beat.

“Hey, Nols.” You grinned, pushing yourself up onto your tip-toes to press a kiss to his cheek in greeting. If possible, his cheeks flushed a little bit more red than usual, and you couldn’t help but feel a pang of victory in your chest for drawing the reaction out of him.

See, you and Nolan weren’t technically anything more than friends. But you had been towing the line between platonic and romantic for far too long, and it seemed almost inevitable that things were going to tip in the direction you desperately wanted it to soon.

“Hey, where are we going?” He questioned, voice deep and laced with confusion as he watched you lock your apartment door after shutting the door.

“To the store, I figured we could make some Christmas cookies.” You explained, turning to face him with an excited smile. Part of your giddiness was for the cookies, but mostly you were looking forward to having the chance to see just how poor Nolan’s domestic skills were. “Only if you want to, though.”

“Sounds fun.” He said earnestly, slipping his hand in yours and tugging you in the direction of the elevator he had just arrived from before you got the chance to second guess yourself further. And really, he couldn’t say no when you were smiling at him and he was desperate for any chance to spend time with you.

“We’ll see how fun you find it when we actually start baking.” You teased, knocking him with your shoulder and drawing a chuckle out of him. The elevator doors opened, and you pulled him in with you and without a second thought he crowded you against the back wall after hitting the button for the lobby.

“You know, I missed you a lot on this last trip.” He mumbled, his hands coming to settle on your hips as he backed you into the wall of the elevator. It was things like this that told you that you weren’t the only one that saw the trajectory of your relationship heading into something much less platonic.

“You didn’t miss me on the other ones?” You couldn’t help the chirp, but thankfully it did little to discourage him. Instead, his grip tightened and his smile widened just a bit more. You wondered if he was going to do it then, if he was finally going to kiss you and end this months long game of cat and mouse you had been playing.

“I always miss you.” He conceded, but before you could comment further, the elevator doors dinged open to reveal the lobby and you separated, albeit a bit reluctantly. You were still smiling, though, wide and teasingly as you slipped your hand into his and tugged him out of the elevator.

It was easy to find his car parked on the street and when Nolan opened your door for you, you couldn’t do anything to stop the grin that found its way onto your face. The ride to the store was quick and spent mostly in conversation about what the boys had gotten up to on the latest road trip, and before you knew it he was parking in front of the grocery store you regularly visited.

“And I swear Teeks didn’t leave my room until after midnight, I had to kick him out.” Nolan explained, drawing a chuckle out of you at their dynamic. They seemed like polar opposites, Travis was loud and animated while Nolan preferred to keep to himself. Even so, you had cracked his hard exterior and now were so close to getting to his heart, you could tell.

“Sounds like you guys had fun.” You told him with a smile, climbing out of the car after he parked at the nearest grocery store.

“Wish you could’ve been there, though.” He said, and you chuckled at his sappy words and the way he extended his hand out for you to hold as if it was second nature. You gave his hand a quick squeeze, a silent reply that you, too, wished you could have been there.

It wasn’t exactly late at night, but the grocery store was nearly empty, music playing loudly and you couldn’t help the rush of excitement you felt as you remembered your purpose of the trip. Eagerly, you grabbed a basket and pulled Nolan further into the store.

“They’ve been playing this song since November.” Nolan groaned, following after you and letting you take control. It took you a moment to realize what he was talking about, but then you heard the familiar tune of “Sleigh Ride” by The Ronettes playing through the store’s speaker.

“Grinch.” You huffed playfully, knocking your shoulder into his arm and drawing a chuckle out of him. “C’mon, I have most of the stuff we need but I need cookie cutters, food coloring, and confectioners sugar.”

“Confectioners sugar?” He repeated, as if the words were forgein to his ears and he’d never heard of it before. You chuckled at his cluelessness, somehow his complete lack of domestic skills and knowledge endearing to you.

“Powdered sugar, Nols.” You teased, but before he could make a playful commnet back, you were distracted by the display of cookie cutters and other Christmas baking supplies. Nolan let you pick, knowing that whatever you decided he’d go along with—and not just about cookie cutters; you had him wrapped around your finger without even knowing it.

He watched as you absentmindedly hummed along to the Christmas song playing through the store. He wondered how he could have gotten so lucky to be the one you were late night baking with, the one you spent most of your freetime with. He wanted to be yours, he wanted the label and the ability to show you off without fear of you thinking he was overstepping.

Hell, he already thought of you as his girl.

“Anyone home?” Your voice dragged Nolan out of his thoughts, hand waving in front of his face with a playful grin on yours. Your smile widened as he grabbed your hand, threading your fingers together all while rolling his eyes at you. He was suppressing a grin, you could see it in his eyes and the way the corners of his lips twitched so you considered it a win and tugged him in the direction of the rest of the items you needed.

The sugar was an easy find but the food coloring was on the very highest shelf and Nolan would be damned if he passed up the opportunity to tease you. He acted as if he wasn’t going to grab the box for you, arms crossed over his chest and a smug grin on his face as he encouraged you to just grab the box. It was all in good nature and you found yourself giggling through threats until he finally caved and pulled the box down for you.  

His hands barely left you the entire trip, fingers threaded through yours or palms on your waist as he stood behind you at checkout. It was as if he couldn’t help himself, and you didn’t mind one bit. You could get lost in him for hours, so as soon as you settled back into his car for the drive back to your place, you reached over and grabbed his hand, lacing your fingers through his. You spotted the grin on his face, but before you could tease him for it, he pressed a kiss to the back of your hand and set your hands in your lap.

Nolan made sure to grab the bag out of the backseat before you had the chance to, and as you walked into your apartment building, you wondered what you could have possibly done to get lucky enough to have Nolan in your life. He was sweet, funny, and devilishly attractive.

You just wished he’d ask you out, or at the very least kiss you.

“So, where do we start?” Nolan asked after setting the bag on your kitchen counter.

“Grab the bluetooth speaker out of my room, please?” You asked sweetly, moving around your kitchen deftly and pulling out all of the ingredients you’d need to make the standard Christmas sugar cookies. Nolan saluted playfully before slipping out of the room, returning just as you pulled the eggs out of the refrigerator. You handed him your unlocked phone and told him to connect it to the speaker and went to work in grabbing two large bowls and the mixer.

“What playlist?” He asked from his spot leaning against the counter. You turned and grinned at him, taking an extra second to admire how effortlessly attractive he looked while just standing in your kitchen.

“The Christmas one, Nols, we’re making Christmas cookies.” You told him as if it was obvious, a grin on your face that assured him you were just teasing. He rolled his eyes playfully, but otherwise complied and within seconds “Mistletoe and Holly” by Frank Sinatra was playing through the speaker.

“Alright captain, what’s first?” Nolan asked, setting your phone down and stepping towards the counter where you’d set up the ingredients.

“Okay, we need to measure these and put them in this bowl.” You told Nolan, gesturing to the flour, baking powder, salt, and one of the bowls you had gathered. Putting Nolan in charge of the flour with little more than the amount he needed and a threat to not make a mess, you went to work measuring the other ingredients. Unsurprisingly, you finished your tasks before Nolan, and watched with a giggle as he focused intently on getting the exact amount of flour you told him.

The rest of baking went similarly to the start, you told Nolan what to do and he did it with brows furrowed in concentration and a seriousness you hadn’t expected him to have when you asked him to bake with you.

“So now we just wait?” He asked for clarification, looking between you and the sheet of cookies you had just put in the oven.

“Mhm, and when that sheet is done we cut out some more until there’s not enough dough to make more.” You explained to him, leaning against the counter to admire him. There was flour on his sweatshirt and on the brim of his backwards hat from when he adjusted it. You were cleaner, but you were convinced that it was impossible to bake anything and escape without getting some flour on you.

The song switched just as you finished talking, the familiar intro to Mariah Carey’s “All I Want For Christmas Is You” filling your kitchen and making a grin appear on your face. Nolan recognized that look, and instantly he was pushing himself up from where he had been leaning against the counter to pull you into his arms and dance dramatically in your kitchen.

He spun you around and you giggled wildly, your moves anything but graceful. He was smiling wide, too, and you decided that it was your favorite sight. The music continued, switching to it’s more upbeat tune and allowing you to dance even goofier, much to Nolan’s delight. You tried to force him to match your energy, but the most you got was a dorky shimmy after you pouted playfully.

“Don’t act like you’re not having fun.” You sighed, breathing a little heavier than you probably should have been after dancing. A mellower song played after Mariah, shifting the mood from goofy and light to a little more serious, though the smile on Nolan’s face helped grow yours.

“I never said I wasn’t having fun, I’d just rather watch you.” He explained, settling his hands on your waist and pulling you closer. Your heart picked up in pace, the look in his eyes one that had you excited, one that had you hoping that maybe he was finally going to kiss you.

“Charmer.” You muttered, if only to fill the silence. Nolan chuckled at that, but he didn’t seem to want to make a comment back, and instead he began leaning his head down, slowly, as if he was giving you a chance to back out. You weren’t going to, not even a little bit, but the very second you tilted your chin up to silently ask for a kiss the alarm on the oven went off, loud enough to have you jolting away from Nolan despite how much you wanted to stay in his arms.

You tried to ignore the way he groaned in defeat as you turned away from him to pull the first sheet of cookies out of the oven. Nolan started on the next batch, rolling out the dough like you had taught him. You had a system going, and soon enough all the cookies were cooled on the counter and there were various bowls with different colored frosting. You had red, white, green, and yellow for the Christmas trees, stars, and candy canes cookies you had cut out.

Unsurprisingly, you were much neater than Nolan, and in no time he had frosting all up and down his shirt. Halfway through carefully frosting a Christmas tree, you turned around to grab your phone and change the song, only to catch Nolan grinning at you.

“You’ve got a little something.” He mumbled, smiling at you gesturing to his cheek. You reached a hand up on your own face, brushing at the area but somehow missing whatever was on his face. Nolan chuckled, stepped forward to help you out. He swiped his thumb across your cheek, and pulled back his hand to show you the green frosting you had been using to decorate the Christmas shaped trees with on his thumb. Parting his lips, he sucked the frosting off with an obnoxious hum, causing you to roll your eyes.

“Are you going to kiss me now?” You asked, voice confident with a teasing lilt and it was all it took for Nolan to duck his head down and connect his lips to yours. It was a long awaited kiss, one that had been built up by months of teasing glances and not-so accidental brushes.

You wanted to thread your fingers into his hair, but your hands were still covered in frosting so instead you gripped his already frosting-stained shirt in a bid to keep him in place. He was cupping your face, holding you just as close and you felt as if you were on cloud nine. He tasted like green frosting, so much so you wondered if he had been sneaking some from the bowl instead of just the small bit he had licked off his thumb.

You weren’t sure who pulled back first, but you were both smiling at each other and it was clear the feelings you had for him were mutual. You pushed yourself up onto your tip-toes to press another quick kiss to his lips before settling back onto your feet.

“The frosting tastes good.” You teased, and somehow Nolan’s cheeks turned rosier.

“Are you sure we have to finish this? I think we should just keep kissing.” He suggested, and though the offer was tempting, you rolled your eyes playfully.

“Cookies first, then we can do your idea.”

[i-like-writing-stuff]

definitely love [five hargreeves x reader]

request:  Could you do a Five x reader fic where the reader is kidnapped by the Handler and Five comes to save them. Thx

a/n: it’s kinda short, but i feel like it’s pretty sweet, i guess??? the only warning is some curse words here and there cause i cant help myself and maybe the handler being like a huge y/n x five shipper lmao

perhaps therell be a part 2???

summary: when the handler kidnaps you, don’t you dare think five wouldn’t come to your rescue as soon as possible.

“Listen, lady!” You yelled, rolling your eyes at your former boss, “I have no idea where that dipshit is, alright?!”

The Handler raised a brow at your seventh burst this hour, taking a long drag out of her cigarette, before puffing out the smoke with a laugh, “I’m sorry- I can’t take your seriously when your boobs haven’t even kicked in yet.”

“Oh, you did not go there.” You squinted your eyes at her, trying to launch forward, but to no avail, as the Handler kept on laughing at your attempts of attacking her.

You only laid back in your seat, feeling the ropes around you squeeze you into place. You had been tied to that chair for the past three hours, although no real torture had been inflicted upon you- other than having to listen to the Handler talk for three hours.

Even when you worked for her in the Commission you didn’t like her much. She was too extra, too much work for you, in spite of her gorgeous sense of fashion. All you wanted to do was retire as soon as possible, but when Five Hargreeves got a job there, your world was turned upside down and before you knew it, you were a teenager again, in 2019, trying to stop the apocalypse with his other siblings.

Except that you failed, and you ended up in 1963... with another apocalypse on its way... because somehow you brought it with you.

“What do you even want with him?” You asked, as she stopped laughing to drag another long puff out of her lit cigar.

“Let’s just say I have a deal.” She smirked, turning to you, “And I need to make sure you two will hear me out.”

“Is that why you kidnapped me and brought me here?” You raised a brow, looking around the abandoned warehouse, “That’s cliche.”

“What’ll be cliche is if he finally admits to having feelings for you when he comes to your rescue.” The Handler scoffed, making you raise a brow at her, “Oh, please- we all had bets going on in the Commission on the two of you.”

“Wonderful...” You dryly said, shaking your head in disbelief.

However, somewhere deep within you, you hoped that what the Handler said would become true. You met Five on his first day working for the Commission and you quickly warmed up to each other since you had basically the same personalities, but you, yourself, were having a hard time understanding your feelings. 

You found that sarcastic piece of shit adorable and charming, but you were not gonna admit it to his face- you didn’t need him to get even cockier. He may or may not have shown in the past two weeks signs that he shared your feelings, but you decided not to put that much thought into it, since saving the world was the number on priority on your list.

“Hey!” Five’s voice suddenly rang through the room, as he stumbled in, holding Lila by the arm.

“Lila?” You wondered, confused by the presence of Diego’s crazy girlfriend which he picked up from a... well, crazy house.

“Well done.” The Handler smirked, placing her hands in the pockets of her coat.

“What is Lila doing here?” You frowned, watching as Five threw her on the floor, glaring at the Handler, “Five!”

“You were right to think she is familiar.” Five told you, placing his foot on Lila’s neck, “She is one of them.”

You perked your brows upon hearing the news, looking at the girl on the floor. She helped Diego escape the mental asylum and she’s been on his side ever since, but when you first laid eyes on her, you couldn’t help but get a familiar vibe off her.

Until you realized...

“That’s your kid?” You turned to the Handler, “The girl you adopted?”

You had heard years ago that during a task, somehow the Handler returned with a little girl, but you didn’t put that much thought into it, even if it was a bit strange. Five had a job in London and the Handler accompanied him, but you figured she just wanted to get some- come on, she is really creepy and kinda flirty!

“What?” Five raised a brow, looking at the girl beneath his foot.

“No matter.” The Handler said, stepping towards you, “Here we are... together again.”

“Yeah, it’s a real party.” You sarcastically said, “Ow!” You immediately yelped, as the Handler pulled on your rope, making you jerk back against the chair back, causing Five to tense up.

“I’ve gotta ask.” The Handler said, not once letting go of the rope, making sure the grip on you would be tightened, causing Lila to laugh, even if her throat was being stepped on, “Did you miss me, you little shit? Or did you miss your little girlfriend more?”

“I’ve been gone for only three hours.” You chimed in, making Five shake his head in disbelief, “Besides... nobody ever misses you, really.”

Five decided to put on the same tough guy act, not wanting to reveal his concern, because truth be told- when you didn’t show up at the family meeting that morning, he began feeling stressed. It was not like you not to show up, especially since his brothers and sisters treated you like their own, so that made him tense. 

But, when Lila showed outside the store with a smirk on her lips, he knew immediately she had something to do with it.

Because, truth be told, you were not expecting to let yourself get kidnapped by the Handler. Yeah, she was a great assassin, but you had been holding the title of the best agent in the Commission for the past seven years. That was, before betraying it to help Five save the world and his family.

“Ah, this one.” The Handler smiled sarcastically, letting go of you in order to push you forward.

“Woah!” You yelped, almost losing balance off the chair if Five hadn’t caught you. 

Lila quickly got up coughing before Five could return, but he couldn’t care less. At least you seemed to be fine, no cuts or bruises- the Handler did nothing to you, she was just toying with him to ensure he’d come here to hear out her proposition.

“Now that we’ve made the exchange...” The Handler said, as Five started untying your ropes, “Lila, darling, would you give us a minute, please?”

“Go play with your toys or something...” You taunted the girl, getting up from the seat after three, long hours, rubbing your sore wrists.

“Yes, the grown-ups need to talk.” Five backed you up with a smirk, as Lila only rolled her eyes, walking away from the three of you, knocking something off a table angrily.

“Very mature.” You raised a brow, “I can see how she and Diego made quite the couple.”

“Don’t make me vomit, Y/N.” The Handler scoffed, before changing the subject nonchalantly, “So... do you two lovebirds like jazz?”

After an interesting discussion with the Handler, you and Five walked out of the warehouse in silence, contemplating your decision. She made you two a tough deal, which needed some time to be thought upon, but, unfortunately neither of you had that kind of luxury.

“You know, if we do take the deal...” You spoke up, turning to Five, causing him to stop in his tracks beside you curiously, “It’d be like... one last job together.”

You and Five had been on jobs together before, but you never officially called yourselves partners, even if your success rate was off the charts. You had a great teamwork, so you were not that surprised when the Handler chose you two for a job of this level and risk.

“I don’t even want to think about that just yet...” Five sighed, covering his face tiredly, “We still have another option.”

Your heart ached at the sight- watching Five rub his small face tiredly, all stressed out and overall exhausted, you truly felt bad. You tried helping him, after all that is why you followed him through time, but this was beyond you, and him. 

You knew how much Five loved his siblings, in spite of his attitude towards them. Everything he has done so far it was for him... and you.

You had no idea, but to Five it was surreal. He accepted the fact that he loved his brothers and sisters, but it took him a lot longer to accept that he was actually in love with you. However, it did make sense- you always made him feel better, ever since you guys met. He wasn’t sure if it was love at first sight, but right now, in this moment, he knew it was definitely love.

“But...” Five spoke up, putting on a weak smile, as he placed his hands in his pockets, “At least you are safe now.”

Hearing those words come out of his mouth, your knees felt like they were about to fail you. As Five looked into your eyes, you knew he was sincere, so you couldn’t help the heat rushing to your cheeks.

“All thanks to you.” You quickly smirked, trying to brush off the nervousness, “I mean... she could have picked any one of your siblings to provoke you, but I had the pleasure of spending three dreadful hours with her.” You sighed, folding your arms over your chest, “So, thank you for coming to my rescue.”

“Thank you for playing the damsel in distress.” Five teased you, playfully flicking your forehead as he picked up the pace, “If things don’t work out with dad, now we have a plan B.”

“Hey, don’t let it get to your head!” You quickly yelled, rushing to catch up to him, “I still am a trained assassin!”

“And how exactly did the Handler get her hands on you, then?” Five asked, brushing off the way you absentmindedly locked your arm with his in an attempt to slow him down.

“I was baking cookies.” You slightly shrugged with an innocent smile, “And Frank Sinatra came on the radio, so of course I blasted it through the kitchen.”

“How do you survive?” Five wondered, looking down at you with a small smile on his face, watching as your lips turned to a playful pout.

Yeah... it was definitely love he felt for you.

[notyourhetloki]

Where are the clowns?

- Arthur Fleck (Joker) x Reader -

Pronouns: None! It’s gender neutral ;)

Word Count: 2,042

Notes: This is a repost from my archived blog @/joysmaddworld

“Hello! This is not something I usually do, but since reading this request made by the incredible @ajokeformur-ray​ , I just couldn’t get this scenario out off my head! So of course, this IS a work directly inspired by her writing and that request in particular, so I recommend you to check it out first! Thank you so much for inspiring me and allowing me to post this, dear <3 Hope you all like it!”

Warnings: Mentions of guns, criminal activity and hospital settings. Spoilers.

“Two police officers were injured in a confront inside the National Bank of Gotham City. The criminals took a large quantity of money to later on scatter it onto the streets on their way out.”

You were barely paying any attention to the TV, too concentrated on eating and balancing the plate on your lap as you sat uncomfortably on your couch; a bad habit you developed as your shifts at Arkham started getting longer and longer. There was not enough time in lunch break, so multitasking was the way to keep track of things happening around.

As you found a decent position, you took a bite of your food to then finally take a glimpse of the TV, and the sight of an armed man wearing a clown mask made you freeze, now completely paying attention to the news.

“All gang members were wearing clown masks to hide their ID, a now considered symbol of the rebel movement that emerged several months back when multiple protests took place around the city, sparked by a statement from the deceased politician Thomas Wayne.”

You watched closely as one masked man appeared to be putting money inside big cloth bags and two others guarded his back while holding guns.

The camera zoomed into one particular individual. Thin, medium length hair, red suit.. but still with a mask hiding his face.

He moved with elegance. Despite the situation, he seemed to be dancing around and thriving on the chaos.

Could it be?

“One of the burglars is suspected to be the missing criminal Arthur Fleck, famously known as Joker. The police department of Gotham City is investigating the possibility of TV star Murray Franklin’s murderer being involved in the crimes committed by this particular gang. Three criminals were injured and are now under arrest, and the remaining five, including the yet to be confirmed Joker, are still to be found.”

You sat and watched the last few scenes from the report, now with a sudden anxiety bubble rising from your stomach... it had to be him.

~ A few months back ~

Since you started working at the Arkham State Hospital, your life took a turn you could never expect. As a naturally empathetic person, you knew you would have to fight to maintain your mental health and sanity intact... working at an asylum would never be an easy job. You just couldn’t predict you would get this affected by a patient.

Arthur was a unique case, a unique man. You had to admit that you had been wary before becoming his therapist... he did kill several men. But as you got to know his case, read his files... your heart just broke. Arthur was the perfect example of what negligence and cruelty could do to a person, or make a person do.

You decided that, despite the circumstances, you would be kind to that man. Try to make him experience a little peace, maybe try to gain his trust and care for him. You wanted to befriend him. And without you even realizing, you had fallen... diving head first in the rabbit hole that was Arthur Fleck, crossing a point of no return.

As time passed by, you got closer and closer to Arthur. Brought him food, bought him quality cigarettes with your own money... tried to care for him as much as you could, especially knowing how the other hospital workers would treat him badly. He appreciated every single little thing, you could see it in his eyes...could feel him starting to open up to you more with each session. At the very first appointments he stayed silent, probably expecting another doctor to say some bullshit and just... not understand. But seeing your actual interest in him, Arthur started getting less shy, and with time, he even dared to get a little bold. Always respectful, but still making you blush at his attempts at flirting. It surprised you to know Arthur could be that caring, and with each visit he managed to find another sweet spot of yours.

For some unknown reason, Arthur Fleck just captivated you. Maybe because he was gentle, polite, interesting to get to know... nothing related to that “freak” image people portrayed of him. They just didn’t care to get to know him... and that infuriated you. Or maybe because he seemed to treasure you so much... no one had ever looked at you the way he did. And Arthur probably never had anyone looking at and caring for him the way you did.

The day Arthur escaped Arkham caught you (and everyone at the hospital) off guard. Several men wearing clown masks invaded the place, held some staff as hostages and broke into Arthur’s cell. You had just arrived at work when it all happened. You rushed to Arthur’s aisle, only to have a gun pointed at you by one of his followers.

"The doctor’s with me!” You heard Arthur’s urgent voice from behind you, he touched your shoulder lightly as to make you turn to face him.

“Are you ok?” You couldn’t properly respond, your breath was taken away as you realized... he was so close. There had been times where you would take his handcuffs off during therapy sessions to provide him some comfort, but... nothing like this. You obviously trusted Arthur to behave in a controlled environment, and for your surprise, it didn’t make you feel afraid to have him standing free right in front of you. There was definitely mutual trust between you two.

He had a much calmer expression now seeing you were ok. The look in his eyes was soft, Arthur always looked at you like that... so you hugged him, something you wanted to do since the first time reading through his files.

He proceeded to explain that those men were the same ones that helped him the day he shot Murray... he really did manage to start a movement, huh?

“I’m not going to stop you, Arthur.” You didn’t want to do that, anyway. “But please... be careful, ok??” you said urgently. That moment finally made you realize how bad you cared for him, how bad you were going to miss him now that he'd be gone. Would you ever see each other again?

Arthur looked at you in the eyes for just a quick moment before he kissed you. He held the side of your face ever so gently, and stole a sweet delicate kiss that surprised you, but made you melt.

He then smiled at you, and proceeded to be rushed out of the hospital by his comrades, leaving you completely speechless. That was the last time you saw Arthur Fleck.

Or so you thought.

Every day you would look into the news, searching for something that might relate to Arthur... you were so afraid for him. Police officers would definitely not be as nice now that he had escaped once again... he could be shot, killed...

You couldn’t fathom that. For weeks you frantically searched for any signs of him, but found nothing.

Months got by and your mind started slowing down a bit, you could only hope he was ok and fine wherever he was.

You missed Arthur... so, so much.

The report from the news channel stayed on your mind throughout the whole day... you felt distracted, distant. Your mind going places you definitely did not want to go. Sometimes you felt like it was best to move on from Arthur, forget him so you wouldn’t suffer so much... but you couldn’t do it. Your heart ached for him, holding onto the hope you had of seeing him again.

When it was just about nighttime, you ultimately decided to take some time for yourself and try to calm your mind a little bit. You started preparing some tea, popped a Frank Sinatra vinyl onto the record player and proceeded to grab a book to read. You couldn’t help but think Arthur would have appreciated the music...

Concentrating to read was proven to be harder than anticipated, so you got up and stopped the music out of frustration. Maybe going upstairs to your room was a better ideia... it had started to rain, that would help you calm down.

Before you grabbed a cup of tea to take to your bedroom, you rushed to close a window you didn’t quite remember opening in the first place... thankfully it didn’t rain inside.

You spent what felt like an hour or so just looking outside of your bedroom window. Watched as the rain fell gently on top of the trees, making the branches full of leaves dance ominously... the movement was so calming combined with the warmth of your tea... you finally started to calm down, the sound of the rain leading you to a trance like state.

The sound of music caught you off guard. At first you thought you were imagining things, but then remembered about the record player downstairs...

“Isn't it rich? Are we a pair? Me here at last on the ground, You in mid-air...”

Your heart skipped a beat, suddenly feeling terrified. You weren’t the type of person to consider a ghost or anything like that... so there were only two valid options in your head: the vinyl started playing on it’s on somehow, or there was an intruder.

Grabbing the switchblade you kept on your desk, you put on a robe and gathered all the courage inside yourself to go downstairs. You took each step carefully to make as little sound as possible, holding your breath involuntarily as you felt your heart pounding heavy on your chest... ok, maybe you were a little bit afraid of ghosts, after all...

“But where are the clowns? Send in the clowns.”

As you took the last few steps of the stairs, you managed to take a deep quiet breath and proceed to peek on your living room.

You couldn’t believe your eyes.

Arthur was beside the record player, rocking gently from side to side in tune with the music and with his eyes closed. He was wearing his Joker outfit, makeup and all... he looked beautiful.

“A-Arthur?” you managed to say, starting to tear up and letting your blade drop to the floor.

He opened his eyes and looked at you, letting out a small gasp as he whispered your name. Arthur had planned to visit you for the longest time now, but he knew the dangers and implications of that. He had to stay low for a while, even wore a mask (much against his will) in his last public appearance... but after all those months, he grew impatient. Nothing mattered anymore, only you. And oh, you looked breathtaking. Seeing you now so vulnerable, wearing only a silk robe made Arthur rediscover a passion he thought could never get stronger.

He managed to take just a few small steps before you ran to his embrace... you couldn’t help but cry a little bit, thank goodness he was alright.

“Oh, I was so worried!” you said, now looking Arthur in the eyes. He wiped some tears from your cheeks and held your face gently, taking in the sight of you. Finally... being reunited with him felt so right.

“I missed you, doctor...” he said teasingly, making you chuckle as he smiled fondly at you. Your heart burned with passion, overwhelmed with the happiness and relief that took over you.

You found yourself running your hands up the lapels of his blazer and lightly grabbing at them, and just couldn’t help but pull him into a kiss. A wave of emotions washed through you as he kissed you back slowly, being so gentle yet passionate.

You both spent the night chuckling at each other like two teenagers, dancing around your living room barely letting go of each other’s embrace, kissing and loving each other for hours on end.

You knew what you were getting yourself into. Arthur was definitely not a saint, you knew life with him could get dangerous for both really quickly... it was all really risky and crazy.

But oh, craziness beside Arthur Fleck felt so, so good. You knew deep in your heart it would all be worth it, no matter what.

A/N: Well, I hope y’all like it! I got some amazing feedback when I posted it on my old blog, so I’m excited to see what you have to say about it! Thank you, loves! Enjoy ;^)

[weeklyfangirl]

Frat Boy Pt. 21

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7 (1), part 7 (2), part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12, part 13 , part 14, part 15, part 16, part 17, part 18, part 19 , part 20

HI LOVIES. Please enjoy a Friday update on the Frat Boy universe. This one is a bit of a breather after the TUMULTUOUS ANGST of the last chappie. Shorter than my usual, but it’s all the chapter needed. Tons more y/n and Harry interaction on the way in the next! Have a safe and happy day loves xx

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

Things I want:

Live a life that helps others

Financial freedom

Experience a great love

Visit the the Pincio Gardens in Italy

To have more dreams and fewer nightmares

Doodle more

Acquire a first edition book, either because an old  friendly man who owns an antique bookshop decides to give it to me in a bonding moment, or because I have accomplished #2 and I am celebrating being a Boss Bitch

To be happy

Please note: not necessarily in that order

 It was taped above my desk, waiting for me to bring it in to the next session. I hesitated to write number 6. It was a dream I hardly entertained after committing my scholarly life to pursue medicine. I used to love to doodle. All the time. Since elementary school. I doodled so much my mom dedicated a wall in the house to my illustrations. She hung a sign above it that affectionately said “Y/N’s Doodles.” Seriously, you couldn’t get me to stop. Even if it was gross sappy sketches of my crush Billy who I would NEVER show on the playground at recess.   

 My doodling stopped how these things normally do. Because life grew busier than anything else, and the sketchpad and easel my dad had bought for me at a garage sale became ignored, collecting dust in the corner of my room. At some point, it’d become a year since I’d drawn anything, and then it was two, and three, and by this point I’d realized I was the one who’d need to create her own stability in life and medicine was the more logical fit. It wasn’t that I didn’t see the value in drawing anymore, I just had other things take up my time. It became a comfort just knowing I used to draw. Paul had paved his way, and now I was on my way to do the same. At least with medicine, my soul felt fed. It was almost comfort enough. 

  “oH WE GOT A ROGUE ONE.” 

 A flying toenail hit my eye. 

 “WHAT THE-” I flailed my arms, as though there were a thousand more coming. Renny’s mouth opened in shock, her guilty body hunched over her bent leg. Clippers in hand.  

 “Sorry!!” Renny burst up laughing.

 “oH MY GOSH CAN YOU DO THAT OVER A TRASH CAN OR SOMETHING?!” 

 “IT HAD A MIND OF ITS OWN!!” she screamed back. 

 I blinked rapidly, my left eye watering up and spilling painless tears. “Well I’m going to have conjunctivitis at the studio later. Or I’ll be stumbling in blind.” I wiped it away.

 I heard another clip and she put up her hands with another giggle. 

 “All done. And you won’t stumble, I’m going to be there.” Renny extended her leg, her perfectly trimmed foot nearly touching the ceiling.

 “You’re just going to solicit Zayn to be his next subject.” 

 “Maybe,” her grin grew devious. “But also because I want to see if he captured the angelic beauty and complex nymph nuances of my best friend.” 

 I put a hand to my chest, still aching from uncertainty. “Honored.” 

 “Want to watch another episode until it’s time to go?” 

 This whole lazy morning had been an OC Housewives bingefest. She’d seen it on my homepage and had a complete spazz, twitching whilst proclaiming but i’ve been trying to get you to watch this show for YEARS!! When she saw the old season I was on, though, she didn’t have to question why her pestering had miraculously worked. She didn’t mention him aloud besides giving me a pointed look. And so, we watched it, even though I wasn’t really in the mood to see anything about Harry right now. It’d hurt more than I thought to walk away from him last night, and to see how sad he looked when I did. 

 After last night, he hadn’t posted anything to social media. He’d called, twice, but I knew he was drunk, or worse, and I was tired, and whatever he would say he could tell me in the morning. Even though I knew he wouldn’t. 

 And he didn’t. 

 And therein lay the problem. 

 It hurt to see his family on my little box of a computer screen, weird to see his life and get glimpses of his childhood. I felt like a hacker spying on home videos. But then I reminded myself that thousands of people had already done the same. At this point, it was just… morbid curiosity.

 “Nah, I don’t know if I can handle any more of that right now. Dr. Rhinecuff is going to yell at me if I don’t return these scanned copies to him by Monday.” 

 “Ew, he smells like meat.” 

 “RENNY!!” 

 “I’m just saying. That one time I went with you it smelled like pastrami in his office. He has a PhD, but isn’t with-it enough to buy air freshener.”

 “He likes pastrami sandwiches, let him live.” 

 She scrolled on her phone, not bothering to respond, and my gaze turned to the window. 

 “Hey Renny?” 

 “Hm.” 

 A bird flew close to the glass, halting just before it hit it, then zooming off in the opposite direction. “What’d you do when your parents were fighting?” 

 “Ummm…” I knew the question registered in her mind when she stopped scrolling, suddenly concerned. “Are your parents okay?”

 “Yeah. I mean, kind of.” I glossed over it, not caring to get into the bitter details. “I was just curious.” 

 “Uhh..” She plucked at the soft cotton of her cotton candy pajamas that were fraying at the knees. “I lost my virginity to Zach,” she half-laughed.   

 “Zach? Neighbor boy Zach?” 

 Renny nodded. She always sounded a little sad when she talked about him. Zach was the hot college boy who shared a backyard fence with Renny, the girl who may or may not have used her kitchen stool to peak over and see him workout on the grass every summer he came home. I’d known they’d slept together. I just didn’t think he was her first. 

 “I just tried to be out of the house as much as I could,” she said. “Found my true love Mary J.” 

 “Oh.” 

 “It was shitty, but I’m glad I got it over with.”

 “The divorce or your virginity.” 

 “Both,” she chortled. “Why what’s up? Are you sad or something? I have a j in my drawer.” 

 “No, no, I’m fine.” Mostly I was just wondering what it must be like to feel so sexually liberated. In my house sex wasn’t talked about. At all. The inevitable sex scene in every other movie would result in my dad blaring out “WHAT KIND OF MOVIE IS THIS!” in an attempt to make it less awwkard, but having it backfire and only make it horrendously more awkward. I wasn’t saving my virginity for anyone in particular, but after all those romance novels, I wanted it to be… something. I wanted to feel something towards the person where it would justify something I’ve kept to myself for so long. I wanted it to be intense. I wanted it to be like the books. Like a Frank Sinatra song that swept up your heart and transported you back to a time of gentlemen and cigars and women in long evening gowns with fur coats and martinis. 

 “I wish I could just get it over with,” I confessed. One half of me screamed YOU’RE IN YOUR TWENTIES HAVE ALL THE SEX while the other half said YOU’VE WAITED THIS LONG DAMN IT HOLD OUT A LITTLE LONGER. I didn’t know which part of me was compromising more. 

 Renny leaned in, quick. “Would you do it with Harry?” 

 Like the flip of a switch, I remembered the sensuous heat of his body against mine, wrapping me up and pressing me against him where we just fit. And I couldn’t imagine how much better it’d feel to be even more connected to him. 

 “Maybeeee…?” 

 But then there was last night. 

 I cringed. No matter how with me he’d seemed… he couldn’t have been present after mixing whatever the hell he took and a handle of alcohol. Did I really want someone like that? Someone who could only give a shell of themselves? 

 “No, I wouldn’t. Or- ugh, I don’t know. I don’t know if it could ever mean as much to him.” 

 Renny nodded. “I mean, don’t let him pressure you, obviously. If he does, I’ll kick his baby maker smack into his prostate. Prostate. See, anatomy. You taught me that.” 

 “Haha, no, he’s not like that.” My brows stitched. I was confused why he wasn’t more like that, actually. We’d known each other for several months now and he hadn’t even put a finger in me. When I thought about it, it actually frustrated me. Don’t pressure me to do anything, but I wanted to be pushed to do something. I was never the bold one in areas like this. 

 Not that I should be so willing to do anything with him anymore anyways. Something shifted in me when I’d seen him last night. It wasn’t a shift I could easily describe, but it’d set me a foot apart from my heart. A bit of me was shocked that it had happened so suddenly. 

 But this shift was new, and my heart still wanted what it wanted. I knew that if I watched any more OC Housewives with Harry’s toddler curls and surfer tan, I’d be sucked right back into speculating about what our future kids could look like. And if I saw him? 

 You were right, Harry. You are fucked. 

 I cringed again. That was harsh. That was very very harsh. 

 I didn’t know if I’d have the courage to apologize. What if my pheromones went berserk and magnetized me to his side??

 Renny was right.

 I needed therapy. 

 The clippers were tossed back on my desk.

 “Thanks,” she said. “Have you started on your DG Double P yet?” 

 DG Double P = Renny Speak for DG Pretty Please. 

 I groaned. “No. I don’t know how I’m going to do it, honestly. I have to-”

 “NO!!! Don’t tell me. We’re not supposed to tell each other.” Her hand extended in panic.

 “Fine. I can keep a secret.” 

 I was getting a little too good at that lately.

 She moved onto her belly, splaying her arms out in a dramatic fashion, face squished against the comforter. “Isn’t it just killing you inside.” She was dead serious. 

 “Yeah, more than you know.” 

 And I was serious, too. 

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

 I wasn’t expecting people to dress up as much as they did. Donned in my only pair of yoga pants and a chunky white sweater, I walked arm-in-arm with Renny past girls in cocktail dresses and guys in button-downs. 

 Something that sounded like a baby’s cry filled my ears, but it was gone as soon as we walked through the doors to the on-campus gallery.  . 

 “Woah did you hear that?” 

 Renny nodded, tossing her head back. “There’s a baby somewhere.” 

 It reminded me of the bodiless screams in my nightmare. In my chunky sweater, I shivered undetectably.

 The on-campus gallery rotated exhibits throughout the year, but this time, student sculptures were on pedestals, nightmarish portraits hung on the walls, and red and orange tapestries swooped down and across the ceiling in a cirque-du-soleil moment as if to secure us beneath fire. Some students had separate booths, but other pieces of work trailed seamlessly into the next. 

 A tree made from photographs and newspaper took up the center of the space. Zayn had been so adamant about his muse having life, I wondered if that was the focus of this exhibit - to capture natural life. But I suppose all art did. 

 “It’s the circle of life exhibit,” Renny stated, as if reading my thoughts. 

 “How’d you know that?” 

 She held up a pamphlet she must’ve grabbed from the entrance. 

 I quickly scanned the room, hoping to find Zayn quickly so I could skip out just as quick. 

 Several of my professors were here, including Dr. Rhinecuff. When he saw me, I raised my hand, but he raised his cup of red wine awkwardly and looked away. 

 My hand wavered. 

 Odd. 

 Zayn was standing by the tree, speaking with an older woman. Her skin was a rich brown, short hair hidden beneath a chic scarf. The man beside her looked around the same age with graying facial hair, a pocket hanky, and beaded bracelets. Art professors. 

 I caught his gaze, and he gestured me over. 

 “Y/N, these are my instructors. David and Ebony.”   

 Their eyes lit up in recognition. “He did you a great justice,” David said, gray moustache twitching with the words.

 Ebony beamed. “Oh yes, a piece was already sold. He’s going to be the next big wig before he graduates,” she gushed. “Zayn, I’m sure you’ll be splitting the profits with the heart of the piece.”

 She gestured to me and his smile widened, but my stomach sank faster. 

 “I didn’t know these pieces were going to be sold.”

 Ebony sensed my concern. The wine in her glass swirled. “We thought allowing the pieces to be shown and auctioned was a good way to replicate what many of them should be doing once they graduate. The whole department gets involved, and these kids put in a lot of work, and the reputation of starving artists isn’t something we want to buy into here.”

 I nodded. “I mean, that’s great. That’s… really amazing.” 

 Zayn couldn’t meet my eyes. He knew. He could sense my hesitance, too. 

 “Now he can finally afford a nice dinner to take you out!” David proclaimed. 

 We were all quiet for a minute. “You know, for a thank you dinner,” David covered up. Zayn’s brows scrunched and he shook his head a bit, not knowing where David’s comment came from. 

 “Do you do this regularly?” Ebony asked, steering the conversation away from an awkward moment. 

 My ears pricked up when I realized she was looking at me. “Excuse me?” 

 “Well I was just thinking…” a light laugh lifted as if her idea would be outrageous. “Would you mind sitting in for one of my classes on Monday? Our model had a sudden death-” 

 “My God,” David proclaimed. 

 Ebony waved her hand. “-in his family. I haven’t called to replace him yet.”

 It quieted as they looked at me, waiting for a response. “Oh, I don’t… I don’t usually do this. At all. It was a chance thing.” 

 “Luck be the artist.” David raised his glass. 

 Ebony followed suit, looking at my empty hand. “You just going to let her stand there without a drink?”

 “Yeah, Zayn. What kind of treatment is this?” I teased. 

 He did a slight bow. “Apologies. We’ll walk to drinks, immediately.” He pulled us away, leading us further into the showroom as his head dipped low to my ear. “Renny just passed us to meet Felix and them. They’re through here.” 

 We stepped under an archway that led into a darker-lit room, but his hand stopped me beneath the nook. “Did yeh notice anything?”

 Yeah. I was noticing how close we were in this archway. He saw my eyes start to squint in thought and he turned me around to face the room we’d just left. 

 “Look closer.” 

 My eyes roamed the crowd, trying to find some sort of person, or pattern he could be referring to. With a brief seize of my heart, I expected to see somebody from the gang. 

 “Look at the artwork, Y/N.” His breath warmed my skin. 

 The paintings all seemed to be bright, though sticking to red, orange, blacks, and grays. Wait, forget a pallette pattern. The next painting had blue and purple, too. One sculpture looked like a writhing ghost, twisting and reaching for something above. Or maybe it was an unearthed tree root. Despite all the bold colors, there was something off-putting about how bright they all were. It wasn’t a soothing brightness. It was almost violent. The orange and red writhing tapestries warped the ceiling into something hot. 

 “Is it hell?” I chortled, but quickly quieted. I expected him to take offense, but his hand went lightly around my waist with a small smile.

 “Could be. See-” his arm extended out to scan the perimeter “-all this art is supposed to represent death, but challenge the notion of it through color.” 

 “How so?” 

 “Yeh know it’s usually your blacks, and your grays, s’depressing shit. But we’re born from death. Before life, there was nothing, but something. It’s bold and necessary and there, and no one really knows whatever comes before. Or after.” He looked at the room, taking a sip of wine. I watched as he swallowed, and I imagined the wine running down. “What is death but an uncertain existence.” He said the thought almost happily, looking at me with a slight smirk. “Could be anythin’.” 

 He took a deep breath, letting his hand touch the top of the archway. It was then that I noticed it wasn’t just plain drywall. A collage of photographs ran all along the inside. 

 He wasn’t as tall as Harry, but his hand still reached the top, scuffing across a picture of an African landscape taped over a toddler eating fruity pebbles. 

 “They’re pictures. Everyone donated one,” he said. 

 A strand of words were painted over the collage, running from one end of the archway to the other, and I tilted my head back to read it. “Things... that…. make... m..e …...feel alive.” 

 “Everyone was able to design their space in order to control, to some extent, how their art was perceived. Everyone was a part of the transition space.” 

 “Very nice,” I noted, slightly put-off. I hadn’t been expecting this art show to be so… professional. “Zayn, this is amazing. Like, really, truly, professional-grade stuff is happening. The presentation, the pieces, everything.”

 His smile grew wider, putting cool hands over my eyes. I flinched, but let him. 

 I felt him come closer. 

“Listen now,” he urged. 

 I listened, but I wasn’t sure for what. There was the familiar busy rumble of people mingling, parents visiting their kids, and professors droning on about the talent of their students. But it was chatter. I couldn’t make out one conversation over another. I shrugged up against his other hand that was atop my shoulder. 

 “Sometimes you need to change where you’re planted to understand.” 

 I hoped he could see my cross expression because I couldn’t tell if he was bullshitting me right now. It’d been a day. It’d been a night. And I wasn’t in the mood for more philosophical ramblings - especially about death. “I don’t know what you mean,” I sighed. 

 “Meaning I have to move you closer to the speakers.” He let out a breathy laugh. “Jus’ keep your eyes closed, okay?” 

 I nodded. His hand moved, tilting my head to its side. Eyes still closed, I became self-conscious imagining people trying to move past me, and here I was, planted, eyes closed in the middle of the archway. My cheeks heated. It was unnerving knowing people could see me when I couldn’t see them. And anyway, I must’ve looked ridiculous. 

 “What do you hear?” he urged. 

 “I hear a lot of people talking,” I griped. 

But right when I was about to open my eyes-  

 I heard a familiar chirping through the chatter. 

 “Birds?” I opened my eyes. 

 “Observance can be taught, sometimes.” Zayn leant back, looking mighty proud of himself. 

 “Why are there birds?” 

 “We’re entering life,” he smiled, backing into the space. I tipped my wine back, several long gulps lightening my step as I followed him. Immediately, I noticed much more natural, earthier tones. For being a room of life, it was surprisingly darker than the prior room.

 Renny, Felix, and Andre were huddled in the center where a makeshift wall-on-wheels covered in vines divided the room in half. 

 My eyes widened, trying to adjust to the dimness. “It’s a lot darker in here.” 

 “All intentional. They decided to play with light in here. People usually think of life being bright ‘n that, but it’s also when we experience varying degrees of darkness. There’s a balance to things and the trouble is finding it.” Understanding laced his voice as his dark eyes bore into mine, almost completely black. One look from Zayn and I was reminded of all the weight I’d been carrying. I fidgeted, uncomfortable seeing myself in his eyes. 

 “Y/N, get over here!” Renny called. My shoulders visibly relaxed. My saving grace. “You didn’t tell me you did this,” she said lowly as soon as I got close enough, shocked excitement barely contained. Her giddy smile gave it away though. “Miss sexy secret keeper over here.” 

 “What do you mean?” 

 She playfully poked my sides, but Andre and Felix avoided my gaze. Something wasn’t right. And it stirred my stomach, my body already knowing, somehow. 

 I turned in slow motion, the charcoal drawings in my peripherals stopping me in place. Framed amidst the vines, my face was etched onto paper, scrunching and twisting in various expressions. But my body was attached and twisting, too. And it was bare, bent over, spread out, laying down… My eyes scanned over them a dozen times in a second. 

 I was naked. 

 In all of them. 

 One was titled “21st Century Love.” In this one, I faced the viewer, but looked past them, sorrowful eyes, brows furrowed, breasts I’d never shown on full display. A hickey or two on my neck. A painful sting gripped my chest. I looked sad. I looked so sad.  

 Tunnel vision, a blurred Renny rushed down to the floor, and a distant part of me registered something wet splatter on my feet. 

 The wine had dropped.

 I’d dropped it. 

 I was trapped in a shell. My body was numb. 

 “Babes, you okay?” Renny asked, her voice somewhere far away. Somewhere outside the shell, her voice drowned in the busy rumbling, with the birds, with the watchers. People were watching me now. I was being watched. “Felix, grab some towels!” she barked. 

 I looked horrified, towards Zayn, but changed my mind just as fast. I couldn’t look at him. I couldn’t even breathe. 

 He didn’t know me at all. He could stare at me for a thousand sessions and paint every crevice, sunspot, blemish, and mole and still not see me. How was an artist this blind? How could he not know that this was the last thing I could ever want? How could he picture me so… intimately?

 The paintings seemed to swirl into one before bouncing back out into their separate exposees. 

 Because that’s what it was. 

 An exposure. 

 A stranger could pay to have me in their home. 

 The floor spun, vision spotting. 

 My lungs tightened, tearing me away from Renny, from Felix, from Andre. From Zayn, the artist who painted a confused girl so unashamed. So honestly. Savagely and Unabashedly. 

 “I didn’t want this.” 

 And it was when I was halfway out the door that I realized the voice had come from me, a mantra pushing my shell all the way home. 

part 22

[introvertguide]

Goodfellas (1990); AFI #92

The current film up for review is Scorsese’s famous crime drama, Goodfellas (1990). It is the story of Henry Hill and how he lived through the psychotic and neurotic life of a mafia member. The film was nominated for six academy awards including Best Picture and Best Director, but only took one trophy home for Best Supporting Actor (Joe Pesci). I watched the movie 3 times over the last 2 weeks and my opinion changed from one opinion to another as I watched each time and I want to discuss why. First of all, however, we need to do summarize the plot with a standard warning...

SPOILER ALERT!!!!! I HAVE ALREADY GIVEN AWAY THE PLOT IN PREVIOUS POSTS AND I AM ABOUT TO DO IT AGAIN EVEN MORE SO!!!! CHECK OUT THE MOVIE FOR YOURSELF IF YOU HAVEN’T ALREADY!!!

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The movie begins with three men checking the trunk of their car and finding that the body in the trunk was actually alive. Tommy (Joe Pesci) stabs the man multiple times and then Jimmy (Robert DeNiro) shoots him multiple times. Henry (Ray Liotta) looks on and explains his life in voice over and how the men all got to this position. 

In 1955, a young man named Henry Hill becomes enamored with the criminal life and Mafia presence in his working class Italian-American neighborhood in Brooklyn. He gets a job working for local mob boss Paul "Paulie" Cicero (Paul Sorvino) and is introduced to the entire family. Most important were associates James "Jimmy" Conway, an Irish truck hijacker, and Tommy DeVito, a fellow juvenile delinquent. Henry begins as an errand boy for Jimmy, gradually working his way up to more serious crimes. The three associates spend most of their nights in the 1960s at the Copacabana nightclub where they can impress women. Henry starts dating Karen Friedman (Lorraine Bracco), a Jewish woman who is friends with Tommy’s current date. She is initially troubled by Henry's criminal activities but is eventually seduced by his glamorous lifestyle. She marries him, despite her parents' disapproval.

We follow Henry and his rise in the mafia along with Jimmy and his growing paranoia and Tommy with his constant chip on the shoulder. In 1970, Billy Batts, a made man in the Gambino crew who was recently released from prison, repeatedly insults Tommy at a nightclub owned by Henry; Tommy and Jimmy then beat, stab and shoot him to death. The unsanctioned murder of a made man invites retribution; realizing this, Jimmy, Henry, and Tommy cover up the murder by burying the body in Upstate New York. Six months later, however, Jimmy learns that the burial site is slated for development, prompting them to exhume and relocate the decomposing corpse. At this time, Jimmy begins watching his back, Tommy feels invincible, and Henry takes on girlfriend while Karen stays at home with the kids.

Fast forward to 1974, Karen finds out about the infidelity and harasses Henry's mistress Janice and holds Henry at gunpoint. Henry moves in with Janice, but Paulie insists that he should return to Karen after collecting a debt from a gambler in Tampa with Jimmy. The mafia is all about family and there is no divorce and appearances must be kept. Things don’t go as planned because, upon returning, Jimmy and Henry are arrested after being turned in by the gambler's sister, an FBI typist, and they receive ten-year prison sentences. In order to support his family on the outside, Henry has drugs smuggled in by Karen and sells them to a fellow inmate from Pittsburgh. In 1978, Henry is paroled and expands this cocaine business against Paulie's orders, soon involving Jimmy and Tommy.

In 1979, Jimmy organizes a crew to raid the Lufthansa vault at the JFK Airport, stealing several millions in cash and jewelry. After some members purchase expensive items against Jimmy's orders and the getaway truck is found by police, he has most of the crew murdered. This part of the film is based on a true story Jimmy, in fact killed almost a dozen people in attempt to keep things silent. In his voiceover narration, as dead bodies are being discovered all over the city, Henry theorizes that Jimmy would have killed them anyway rather than share the profits of the heist. Tommy and Henry are spared by Jimmy since they had worked so close together. Also, Henry wasn’t actually involved in robbery and Tommy is going to be a made man and Jimmy wants the connection. Tommy is eventually deceived into believing he is going to be made, but he is murdered on the way to the ceremony, leaving Jimmy devastated.

By 1980, Henry has become a nervous wreck from cocaine use and insomnia. He notices that a helicopter is following him but is trying to visit with his family and deliver drugs at the same time. He sets up a drug deal with his Pittsburgh associates, but is arrested by narcotics agents and jailed. After bailing him out, Karen explains that she flushed $60,000 worth of cocaine down the toilet to prevent FBI agents from finding it during their raid, leaving them virtually penniless. Henry has nowhere to go so he returns to Paulie to ask for help and admits to dealing under the table. Feeling betrayed by Henry's drug dealing, Paulie gives him $3,200 and ends their association. Henry meets Jimmy at a diner and is asked to travel on a hit assignment, but the novelty of such a request makes him suspicious. Henry realizes that Jimmy plans to have him and Karen killed, prompting his decision to become an informant and enroll, with his family, in the witness protection program. He gives sufficient testimony to have Paulie and Jimmy arrested and convicted. Henry is grateful to be alive, but he is forced out of his gangster life and has to readjust to normal life once again; he narrates, "I'm an average nobody. I get to live the rest of my life like a schnook."

The end title cards state that Henry is still a protected witness as of 1990, but that he was arrested in 1987 in Seattle for narcotics conspiracy, receiving five years' probation. He has been clean since then. He and Karen separated in 1989 after 25 years of marriage, while Paulie died the previous year in Fort Worth Federal Prison at age 73 from respiratory illness. Jimmy is serving a 20 years to life sentence in a New York prison for murder, in which he will be paroled in 2004, when he will be 78 years old.

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Even more of an update from the end title cards, Henry Hill and Karen Hill divorced in 2001 and then Henry remarried and fathered one more child. Karen and her kids have lived in hiding and fear they will never escape possible retribution. Jimmy died in prison in 1996 before he was eligible for parole and Henry died in 2012 of cancer. With their history of explosive violence, I am kind of glad that all three of the main men (Tommy, Henry, and Jimmy) have shuffled off this mortal coil.

So I ended up watching this film three times in the last couple of weeks and I liked it less and less each time. So many people have such good things to say about the movies (including me), yet what the movie is most celebrated for is what I like the least. The first time I watched was with my housemates and they talked throughout the movie and laughed at the antics of Joe Pesci. I feel that many viewers enjoyed that crazy performance, and this was probably the reason for the Best Supporting Actor award. I am sure that capturing the volatile nature of a lunatic mafia hitman is very difficult and deserves praise.

I then watched it twice more to take notes on the different camera shots and then to compare to the real story of the Lucchese family and Lufthansa heist. I was not disappointed with the camera shots since Scorsese tends to let his actors go wild and then move the camera in interesting ways to capture the action while telling the story he wants to tell. He uses extreme close up shots and the vertigo trucking shot to represent the paranoia of Henry Hill and Jimmy Burke. He used the tracking shot to bring the audience into the world of the mafia man using the the character of Karen Hill as the “fish-out-of-water.” The choice of music was great including using the Sid Vicious rendition of the classic “My Way” popularized by Frank Sinatra. The colors were so bright in the beginning and became so bleak and washed out by the end. Fantastic cinematography and direction. 

By the last watch, I realized that I did not like Tommy DeVito (real life name Tommy DeSimone) because he made everybody around him scared. It was like having a pet feral tiger and just hoping that he never turned on you. He was not loyal at all. In actuality, he tried to rape Karen Hill while she was married to Henry. He really killed a young bartender named Spider because Jimmy was teasing him. He brutally attacked and murdered out of anger because he was completely unhinged. Just watching Joe Pesci play the part made me anxious and I wanted him to go away every time he appeared on screen. I guess this makes him a great actor, but it also doesn’t make me want to watch his movies. 

I brought this up with the Godfather movies on the list, but do Brooklyn based Italian-Americans act like these people in the movies? Constant noise in which men treat women terribly and the women go off to the kitchen and make food? I can except the loud large families and the giant shared meals, but I sure hope that the poor treatment of women and the huge lack of equality between the genders is fake or at least outdated. I have met some really nice Italian people who are nothing like the people in these films, so I believe it is a stereotype (if this is true, then Hollywood needs to stop promoting these stereotypes).

A final positive note towards the acting, I thought that Lorraine Bracco did a wonderful job as Karen Hill. She played a sheltered girl that wanted a little danger and got way more than she ever wanted. There is a scene in which she realizes that her husband is cheating and that she and her children are miserable and unprotected. She wakes up Henry with a gun in his face, but she can’t kill him because she wants that drama in her life. She is treated horribly and at one point barely walks away from a hit set up by Jimmy, yet she still stays with Henry until she is forced into the boring life of Witness Protection and she leaves him. After wading through the history of all the different characters from the movie, I actually find her story to be the most interesting.

In the end, I still want an answer for the same two questions. Does this film belong on the AFI top 100? Absolutely. It is a well made movie with a strong vision about one version of growing up in Brooklyn and how searching to realize the American dream can lead you down dark and dirty paths. Great vision by Scorsese and a well told story. Do I recommend it? Not really. I recommend doing the research on these American mobsters and get a feel for what these people were really like. I recommend checking out clips on YouTube that show the filming techniques that have become hallmarks of great directors. But don’t watch these portrayals and laugh. They are not fun or funny like they come off in the movie, these are horrible (yet interesting) people that should serve as a lesson/warning and not have their lives glamourized by Hollywood. 

[marvella15]

Astaire & Rogers Rewatch Part 2: Gay Divorcee

• Once again, background info first. 

After they were a smash hit in Flying Down to Rio, Astaire and Rogers were quickly paired up for another film. Gay Divorcee is an adaptation of a successful stage musical (Gay Divorce), which Astaire had starred in immediately prior to coming to Hollywood. It was the only major production he did on the stage without his sister. More on this later. 

Why the name change? Execs didn’t think a gay (happy) divorce was appropriate but a happy divorcee was acceptable. 

Back in the day, the only way I could watch classic films was checking them out for a dollar from my local library. When I checked out Gay Divorcee, the librarian commented that title certainly had a different connotation today than back then. This meant nothing to me as a young person at the time but now I think about that moment every time I think about this film.

• Our characters/actors: Guy (Fred Astaire), Mimi (Ginger Rogers), Aunt Hortense (Alice Brady), Egbert (Edward Everett Horton), Tonetti (Erik Rhodes).

• What kind of name is Egbert??

• “I’m on my vacation. I’m not gonna do any dancing.” Unless there’s a beautiful woman to woo, of course. Or a check to pay.

• The bugle call is heard for the first time in the Astaire/Rogers films when he begins his solo. It will pop up several more times in the next films but it originated as something funny from Astaire and Rogers’ rehearsals. In Roberta and Follow the Fleet, art imitates life in a way when the bugle call becomes a signal of their past partnership/connection.

• Guy’s gentle mocking of Mimi’s repeated calls for a porter will come back later in this film and be slyly referenced again in Swing Time. 

• Heh:

Guy, hopefully: “You didn’t say goodbye.”

Mimi, coldly: “No, I didn’t.”

• The subtitles very incorrectly indicate Egbert says “asked” each time he repeats what the English messenger said when delivering Guy’s coat. Egbert, in his attempt to mimic the English accent, distinctly says, “arsed.”

• Love this exchange:

Egbert: “What’s her name?”

Guy: “I don’t know.”

Egbert: “Where does she live?”

Guy, more emphatically: “I don’t know.”

Egbert: “My, what an interesting romance.”

• Astaire often thought his singing voice sounded better right after he’d had a drink or a smoke. So he usually does one or the other (often the latter) in scenes right before singing. 

• Already his speaking-singing style is to his advantage as he sings “Needle in a Haystack” while finishing getting dressed. It seems natural and effortless, the way we all sing to ourselves sometimes. 

• Love how he leaps over the back of the couch and the way his tapping kicks up with the four horn blasts in the song. No one makes a more stylish exit than Fred Astaire lbr.

• Mimi, having been blocked in by Guy’s car: “Would you mind moving your car, or don’t you want it anymore?”

• And here he repeats her call for a porter to break the ice and it works. She may think he’s a little nuts but she’s clearly interested. When he asks when he can see her again, Rogers lets a look of longing and regret flash over her face. Neither the audience or Guy know yet that she’s actually still married and trying to discretely get a divorce. Going out with another man would ruin everything but this charming dork is tempting. 

• Buuuut she’s not so interested that she cares at all about destroying his elaborately packed picnic basket when given the chance to speed away. And he’s so into her already, he also couldn’t care less.

• One of my favorite lines here from Guy:

Egbert: “Guy, you’re not pining for that girl are you?”

Guy: “Pining? Men don’t pine. Girls pine. Men just… suffer.” 

• Ok, the “Let's K-nock K-nees” sequence is something I skip every time because it’s pointless and insane that young Betty Grable is somehow into Egbert. And that opinion has not changed.

• Hortense and Egbert are part of the comic relief but I have always found them annoying. Thy do have some good lines though:

Egbert: “You can’t have a clandestine affair between three people.”

Hortense: “Oh, that’s what you say.”

• “Your wife is safe with Tonetti. He prefers spaghetti.” 

• I like that Guy legit almost leaps over the second story railing to follow Mimi before thinking better of it. He's got it bad.

• “Night and Day” is the only song from the stage musical to make it into the movie and it’s also the first dance duet Astaire and Rogers have performed since the “Carioca.” And it is worlds different and stunningly executed. Future films won’t make audiences wait nearly an hour before pairing up Astaire and Rogers for a dance.

• Although Mimi asks Guy to let her leave, she smiles instantly when he again asks her to stay. The whole time he sings to her and for most of the dance, she’s very obviously conflicted and Rogers portrays that beautifully. Some of it is the choreography but most of it is her acting. Just one of many, many examples of, as one film historian put it, Ginger Rogers realizing that “the acting did not stop when dancing began.”

• If you think I’m going to shut up about Astaire’s singing, you’re dead wrong. “Night and Day” is a love song with lines like “this torment won’t be through, ‘til you let me spend my life making love to you.” When Frank Sinatra sings that line, it’s seductive. When Fred Astaire does, it’s a sentiment straight from his heart.

• Astaire’s look when he grabs Rogers’ hand and the music kicks up as he does a little dance. Love it. 

• This dance is incredibly intimate. When he twirls her in close for the first time, they lean together, noses almost touching. Her dress is pressed to his suit in several places. 

• Each time they move apart, they come back together slowly, her arm gently on his shoulder, his around her waist. When they’re side by side, again noses almost touching they’re so close, a smile spreads slowly on her face and he responds in kind. 

• It’s after that moment that, for the first time in the dance, he lets her go and they dance together without either holding the other, a signal of their characters’ growing intimacy and partnership. Any other “attempts” by Mimi to leave are all playacting within the dance. She is right where she wants to be. 

• Two movies before a song will induce it, Astaire and Rogers dance cheek to cheek for a few brief seconds in “Night and Day.” As the music turns triumphant, he smiles and she looks a bit rapturous. He doesn’t take his gaze off her for a second and she meets his look without breaking it even after the dance is over. 

• Love the tiny wiggle of Astaire’s fingers as the music dies down, his leg still lifted in the final pose of their dance.

(gif credit) 

• The implications of his offer of a cigarette as her chest is heaving a bit and after such an intimate moment are, um, obvious. 😏😏😏

• A lot of this movie is about sex or the suggestion of sex. “The Continental” involves kissing while dancing. Mimi must pretend to be caught in an affair in order to get a divorce. “Night and Day” mentions “making love.” When Mimi instructs Guy to meet her in her room at midnight, he’s shocked but he shows up and more than once goes to embrace her since he assumes that’s why he’s there. But, as usual in Astaire/Rogers films, the sexiest moments are tied up in the dancing and “Night and Day” is one of the clearest examples.    

• Mimi may have thought Guy was her corespondent because he “said the right words” but there’s something to be said for how suave and charming he was in their dance. Mimi had no trouble believing he might be a hot guy who was hired to help women convince their husbands they were having an affair.

• As Rogers starts to sing “The Continental,” Astaire looks at her so warmly right before the shot switches to a close-up where he’s supposed to stare affectionately at her. But his genuine look before the switch is better.

• Rogers’ dress change before “The Continental” is a good one. That negligee and hairstyle were not the most flattering and her new dress is one of my favorites.

• “The Continental” is very different than the “Carioca” even though it’s meant to replicate it in many ways. But Astaire’s control over the choreography is much more evident. He and Rogers switch from the prescribed motions of the dance to more energetic pieces seamlessly. Several times he sneaks smiles at her that appear to be Astaire himself, rather than solely his character, such as when they turn towards each other with their arms outstretched for the first time or when she begins marching forward first and he follows. 

• The “three steps to the right, three to the left” move that will be integral to the choreography in Swing Time, shows up here first. 

• Pretty sure he nearly gets punched in the face when they link hands and spin so each has one arm in front and one behind. 

• Kissing her hand, rather than her lips, in response to the lyric “you kiss while you’re dancing,” is just the start of a longer conversation about (the lack of) kisses in Astaire/Rogers films. More later.

• The affection on both their faces in the close up near the end of the dance as they twirl around one another (in a slight mockery of the kissing other couples were doing) is very sweet. And I love the final move when he spins her towards him on that last beat and instantly smiles broadly. It’s a look I’d expect to see during rehearsals when you’ve finally done a tricky move perfectly.

• For some reason, RKO thought what people wanted was several more minutes of this song without Astaire or Rogers, and they were wrong. At 17.5 minutes, “The Continental” was the longest musical number on film until the ballet sequence in An American in Paris outran it... by one minute.

• When Astaire and Rogers do rejoin the dance briefly, you can see how well they flow together. Critics and historians have often noted that Rogers wasn’t the most technically perfect or trained of Astaire’s partners but she looks pretty damn perfect. They switch from formal dancing to tap to spins to twirling down steps and she doesn’t ever look out of her league for a second.

• And this is somehow only their second film and third on screen dance together! And yet they already look incredible??

• In the morning, Mimi and Guy’s relationship is so obviously cemented and we know it not by grandiose declarations but in the small action of her grinning and calling him “clown” after he jokes about the arrival of their breakfast. 

• So Mimi’s husband shows up and doesn’t buy Tonetti is her lover for a second because duh. She calls Guy out from hiding to kiss her as proof she’s having an affair of some kind. And he obliges… by kissing her cheek somewhat ridiculously. 🤦‍♀️

• Their final dance as they get ready to leave takes them around the room. I love how he leaps over the couch, not unlike he did back when he was pining for her in “Needle in a Haystack,” and then slides across the rug to reach her in time for the next step. 

• “The Table Dance” that ends the film is another carryover from the stage production. As Astaire guides Rogers from the table down to the floor, her foot doesn’t stop on the chair as his does. It goes from table to floor in one motion. For one beat both of her feet are touching nothing. The move relies entirely on his control and her trust in him. Not an easy ask, not only because of the maneuver but also because Astaire’s stage partner did hurt herself during this dance at one point and the injury eventually led to the end of her career. Maybe that’s why Astaire quickly glances down at the chair on each rotation.  

• And in the final seconds, the music becomes jaunty and the pair look at each other and grin with complete sincerity. For just half a second before he grabs a hat, Astaire looks at her with that same softness you see in other moments. The way she leans into him as they exit is in character, yes, but it’s like two friends thoroughly enjoying themselves, which they were in both respects. 

• So movie two finished! If you think these posts are already getting long, just you wait. Roberta is next and it’s one of my favorites. 

[queerbutstillhere]

For @binarystarkillers , Happy Birthday, you sweet angel!

Tim sighed, watching the sparkle of elegant gowns and the dull tones of black suits, all of them the same except for the occasional bright tones of his brothers'. Dick had picked a blue suit, easily standing out in the rest of the formal wear, Jason was wearing a black suit with a red button down, and Damian, the little shit, had gotten away with a cream suit. Somehow. He looked like a bond villian. Duke had escaped this particular event due to a bad head cold. Cass was somewhere, wearing a gorgeous high-low golden halter top gown. Bruce was also somewhere in attendance, with Selina on his arm, the two matching in their formal wear.

Tim was wearing a gray suit and a white button down, no tie, just a matching vest. He hated the gala's, he always had, but since he had become a CEO, it gotten significantly worse. People tried to smooth talk him, win him over, even seduce him. Hence why he was currently tucked away to the side by thr hors d'oeuvre, pretending he was waiting for someone while his brothers smooth talked their way through the whole party.

He had been allowed to bring a plus one, he always was, and he wanted to bring Kon, he had certainly invited the man, but Kon hadn't shown and Tim was less then amused. It wasn't like he didn't have a massive crush on him or anything. So here he was, alone, as always.

He sighed and snagged one of those little fancy people sandwiches before heading towards the bar. Maybe he could get a mocktail or something. Or convince the bartender that he was over 21 and could legally drink... Either way it'd give him something to do.

"Ah, Mr. Drake," the blonde bartender says, leaning forwards on her elbows with a smile. "The usual?"

Curse this place for hiring the same bartender as last gala. And the one before that. And the one- okay you get the point.

"Yeah," he said with a resigned sigh, stuffing his sandwich into his mouth in one bite.

Bruce would probably give him a disappointed sigh if he saw that.

"Where's your friend? The really buff one?" She asked as she shook his drink.

"Dunno."

"Oh. Did you invite the ginger then?"

"No. I invited Kon."

She hummed.

They had conversations like this a lot. She poured his drink, garnishing it with a little herb and then passing it over.

"Well do try to have some fun, and don't let Jason give you too much alcohol, okay?"

"Yeah."

She left to go serve another person who stepped up to the bar, so Tim turned around, observing the crowds, testing his skills by picking out who was already drunk, putting names to faces, such things.

And then some guy sidled up beside him.

"Hello," said a friendly sounding New York accented voice.

Tim glanced over, smiling in response and sipping his drink.

The person was probably five or so years older then Tim, brunette, but clearly dyed. He had hazel eyes, a five O'clock shadow, and was wearing a simple black suit with a dark blue tie. He leaned against the bar next to Tim.

"Timothy Drake, right?"

"That's me."

Tim switched the hand that his drink was in, turning and holding out his right one to shake.

"Eric Daly."

"Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Daly."

"Just Eric is fine," Eric said with a chuckle.

Tim smiled in response, noting Dick dipping the woman he had been dancing with, giving her his most charming smile. It made him want to gag. So did the heavy cologne Mr. Daly was wearing.

"Can I get you anything?" The bartender asked as she walked over.

Eric ordered himself a drink, as she started making it, she shot Tim a look that clearly said 'say the word and I'm there'. He just smiled back at her.

"How are you enjoying the gala, Mr. Drake?"

"Tim, please. And it's. . . Pleasurable."

Eric chuckled. "So you're bored. Don't worry, I grew up going to these two, I know the feeling."

"Mmm."

"My parents own the construction business in Gotham. I'm sure you can imagine how busy we've been of late, with that Batman and his companions running around."

"I take it you don't like the Batman much?"

"Well I do owe most of my inheritance to him, so I like him just fine, I suppose."

Tim turned his gaze fully to Mr. Daly, trying to decide his angle.

"But you do have to admit, the crime rate has seemed to go up with his appearance."

"You say this as if the crime rate was low before him."

"No, it wasn't, but there was a significant lack of clown themed psychopaths running around."

Tim felt himself bristle in defense of Harley, but he kept his mouth shut.

"Anyway, would you like to go dance, Tim?"

Tim glanced over to see he had somehow already drank all of his drink. So he did his duty and smiled and nodded, setting his own on the bar and adjusting his jacket slightly before following Eric to the dance floor. They danced for a few songs, talking business mostly. Eric's angle ended up being that he was trying to win over Wayne Enterprises to work with his company only, instead of the small contractors Tim had them hiring. And he hated it. He had no idea how many subtle help me looks he had sent at his brothers as he passed, but Damian, when he had made eye contact with the younger teen, had just openly laughed at him.

After about three songs, Tim suggested they go get another drink, to give himself some space from this man, so they made their way back to the bar.

"Well, all I'm saying is, we should have dinner and discuss this a little more fully-"

"Mr. Daly, I do not think you understand," Tim snapped, his harsh tone coming out more then intended. "Wayne Enterprises has no interest in working with your company, you are already stealing work from the small contracting companies, and then buying them out when they inevitably go bankrupt. We do our best at Wayne Enterprises to work with local businesses and help support the people within our city. Your company does not meet those requirements."

Eric's eyes flashed with anger for a moment before he smile politely, gently touching Tim's arm.

"Now, Tim-"

"Tim!"

Tim's head snapped to the side as he heard the familiar voice. He never once in his life felt relief faster. Walking over to him in a casual saunter was Conner Kent, wearing a dark blue suit and a black t-shirt underneath. He looked a little windblown, but still he was here.

"Kon," he said with a grin.

Conner walked over, bending slightly to pull Tim into a hug, his strong arms wrapping around his smaller friend, and immediately Tim felt safe.

"Sorry I'm so late, Lex kept drabbling on and on and kept making me change suits and finally I managed to escape with this-"

Tim chuckled, his chin tilted up awkwardly as he hugged Conner back.

"It's okay. You could've texted me though."

"I... Didn't? Damn. I blame Lex for that."

Conner stepped back, and then his eyes slid to Eric, who suddenly look awkward.

"Oh, hello."

"Oh, Conner," Tim said, neatly slotting himself in against Kon's side. "This is Eric Daly. Eric, this is Conner Kent."

"Nice to meet you," Eric said softly, looking a little intimidated.

Good.

"Yeah, you too!" Conner said in a tone that Tim knew was his false happiness. He squeezed Tim a little tighter against him.

There was an awkward pause of silence, then Conner looked down at Tim.

"I'm gonna go find your dad and let him know I made it, okay?"

"Okay. You owe me a few dances."

Confusion flashed over Conner's face for a few seconds, but when Tim glanced at Eric, he seemed to understand.

"Yeah, of course. Sorry, again. I'll be right back."

Tim grabbed Conner's lapel, pulling him down so he could kiss Conner on the cheek. "You better be."

Conner stared at him, flustered for a moment before flashing a smile and heading away. Tim felt his face heating up, but he turned back to Eric.

"So, drinks?"

"Uh, yeah," Eric said softly.

They walked back over together, and the bartender quickly made their drinks, giving Tim a few questioning glances. No sooner had they been passed over then Kon reappeared.

"I was ordered to keep you out of trouble," he said, leaning against the bar and focusing on Tim.

"Me? Trouble? If B is expecting trouble he should keep his eyes on that one," Tim said, pointing out Jason.

"He is. That's why he needs me to watch you."

"Pftt," Tim said, sipping his mocktail until it was taken from his hand.

"Ew, what is this."

"You know very well," Tim responded, snagging it back.

Eric cleared his throat, and Tim looked back at him.

"Well, it was nice talking to you, Mr. Drake. Have a good evening."

"Oh. You too, Mr. Daly!" Tim responded with a smile.

Eric made a hasty departure. Tim chuckled and looked up at Kon, who was pretty close, but that was normal for Kon.

"Thanks, you got here right in time to save me."

"Me? Save you? The world must be ending," Kon said, but he said it softly, almost sadly.

"Yeah... Anyway, you wanna go dance?"

Kon's gaze snapped over to him, looking surprised.

"Really?"

"Yeah, flyboy. I wasn't joking."

"Oh, I wasn't..."

Tim snagged Kon's big hand and pulled him away.

Fellas, is it gay to slow dance to with your best friend to an orchestra rendition of Always by Frank Sinatra? Because Tim sure hopes it is.

They made it out to the dance floor and Tim turned to Kon, reaching up to put his hand on Kon's shoulder, his other one he left in Kon's hand, just adjusted his hold slightly. Kon put his free hand on Tim's waist and they slowly started dancing, before getting in rhythm with the music and swirling around, getting deeper into the dance floor and further away from the eye of the paparazzi and media.

There was a hint of awkwardness surrounding them. They had had this weird little flirting relationship for a while now, only recently it'd gotten worse. And by that, Tim means Kon's flirting had gotten just slightly more, and Tim had actually started reciprocating. Kon had always flirted with him. Just now he actually felt things when he did it.

"So what did that creep want anyway?" Kon asked softly.

Tim glanced up to him, his face only a few inches away.

"Wanted Wayne Enterprises to pledge sole loyalty to their construction company. I told him to stuff it. Either that or he wanted in my pants. Couldn't tell you which."

"Yeah. I could."

"Are you saying you can read people better then me, Kent?"

Their heads had come together at some point, Tim's temple against Kon's cheek.

"No I'm just saying I'm better with relationships and flirty things like this."

"Are you really?"

"Yeah, Red, I am."

Tim chuckled lightly, feeling Kon's arm tighten a little more around his back and pull him in just that little bit closer. He let his eyes close, letting the music and Kon's presence wash over him. Kon smelled good. He smelled like the coast, and like the vanilla candles at Lex's. He smelled like his shampoo, old spice maybe, and a bit of cologne, and also just pure Conner Kent. And he was warm, not too hot, but warm and comforting.

"So what really kept you."

"Oh, it was actually Lex. I went to him for fashion advice, and while he had me pinned down, he decided to give me another one of his famous talks."

Tim snorted lightly, pulling away to look at Kon. He opened his mouth to respond, but Kon quickly interrupted.

"Don't hit me."

And then his lips were on Tim's.

Tim froze, his hand tightening in Kon's jacket as his body screamed for directions on how to respond. Hit him? Kiss him back? Flip him? No! Don't flip him.

Tim quickly decided on kissing him back, the hand on his shoulder sliding up to his neck. They stopped dancing, just stood there kissing gently. Tim pulled away first, feeling his face heating up, even as butterflies fluttered in his heart. Did this mean?

"Was that okay?"

"Was?" Tim paused, staring at Kon for a moment. "Why didn't you do that earlier, dumbass?"

Kon laughed brightly. Around them, the world went on, rich couples still danced around them, in fact, Tim spotted Dick twirl past, and caught a smirk from him, but he decided to ignore that.

"Guess I wasn't brave enough before."

Tim scoffed. "You, not brave enough?" He asked as he pulled Kon back into a dance.

"Yeah, sometimes I get scared, Timmy. Scared of losing people I love."

Tim hummed as once again his forehead came to rest against Kon's cheek. It was a good way to hide how red his face was. He felt like butterflies had taken residence in his chest, he felt like he was on top of the world, he felt like he could face off with any villian in the world and come out on top. He felt indestructible, because Kon had just kissed him. Which probably meant he liked him back.

They danced for a while before Tim's feet started getting tired. But he didn't want to stop. Kon was a good dancing partner, he never stepped on toes, and he was happy to lead. Happy to let Tim lean against him as they swayed. But Tim had another idea. He snagged Kon's hand and they snuck out, out to the gardens out the back of the venue. It was too cold right now for the gardens to be a good place for people, but Tim was more cold adapted then most people. He glanced around to make sure no one would see them and then pointed up. Kon caught his meaning and picked him up easily, taking him up to the roof. They sat down on the edge of it the cement part, Tim pressed into Kon's side. He closed his eyes and let his head rest against Kon's neck.

"Thanks for coming, Kon."

"Yeah," Kon said, and Tim could hear his smile.

"And for rescuing me."

"From Daily?"

"Daly."

"Right. And you're welcome."

Silence fell over them, but it was nice and comfortable and Tim didn't want to leave Kon's presence.

"How much trouble would you get in if we just left?"

"What?"

"How mad would your dad be if I just picked you up and we went back to the manor?"

Tim considered his options. Stay here with snotty rich people. Go home with Kon. He pulled out his phone and shot a quick text to the family group chat informing them that he was leaving. Kon grinned, and once they stood, he easily picked Tim up again. A quick flight later, they plopped down at the manor front door.

"Is it locked?" Kon asked, walking up and eyeing the door.

"Probably."

Kon smiled and reached out, barely touching the lock, eyes closed for a moment. And then he pushed the door open.

"You know I have a key, right?"

"But Tim, my T-"

"Don't say it."

Kon scowled at him. They went to the kitchen, raided snacks and then went up to Tim's room, ditching fancy clothes and climbing into bed. Tim turned on a movie on his laptop and they just sat there for a while, before Tim glanced up and found Kon's gaze on him.

"What?" He asked softly.

"You're really beautiful, Tim."

"What?" He gasped out.

Kon smiled. "You are. You are absolutely gorgeous."

Tim pouted slightly. "I'm not."

"Yes, you are. From your beautiful skin, to your cute nose, and your gorgeous eyes? God," Kon breathed the last word out, shaking his head slightly.

Tim's cheeks heated up and he ducked his head, pointedly avoiding Kon's eyes.

"Tim," Kon said with a slight chuckle.

"What?"

"Are you getting flustered?"

"No."

"Liar."

Kon pulled on his arm, and Tim squeaked as he was tugged sideways lightly. He went to adjust and made the mistake of glancing up at Kon, who quickly ducked his head and caught Tim's lips in another soft kiss. He found himself adjusting to face Kon fully to avoid breaking the soft contact. His hands came up to cup Kon's face, while the half-kryptonian's landed on his hip and waist.

"So I'm really assuming this means you also have romantic feelings towards me," Kon murmured lightly after pulling away.

Tim huffed and swatted his chest. "Jackass!"

Kon laughed and pulled Tim to him until he was sat sideways in his lap.

"Sorry sorry, I just had to check."

Tim shook his head slightly in amazement at his dumbass friend. "Yes, you dork. I like you."

"Okay, that'd a relief. Because I'm pretty far gone, myself."

Tim scoffed, looking up at him. Immediately a smile took over his face.

"So are you gonna ask me out or what?"

"Oh, I have to do the asking?'

"Yes you do."

"You're the rich kid!"

"Literally so are you."

"Okay but technically I'm not supposed to use Lex's money."

"He's rich, Kon, he probably won't even notice if you don't a million dollars, let alone the like fifty to a hundred dollars it costs to take someone on a date."

Kon scoffed lightly, then shook his head.

"Fine fine." There was a pause. "Tim, would you wanna go on a date with me?"

"I'd be absolutely pleased too."

Kon laughed, and just because he could, leaned down and kissed Tim again.

"I'm glad."

[crackedoutgiraffe]

To the Moon and Back

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11

A/N: Chapter 12

You and Spencer’s first date was tonight. At work, for the past week, you and Reid would sneakily catch each other’s eye. You both decided that telling the team wasn’t the best idea. You would eventually tell them, you just wanted to be sure this would work before getting their hopes up. You had planned for a date for two weeks prior but that was interrupted by a case.

“Hey,” Reid and you were leaving the office at the same time that night. “ I’ll be at your apartment around 7.”

“How fancy should I dress?” Reid wouldn’t tell you where he was taking you.

“I would say pretty fancy,” he smirked in your direction. 

“Can you please tell me where we’re going?” You pleaded, you hated surprises.

“Nope,” he put emphasis on the P. 

The elevator doors opened and you walked out, “I guess I’ll assume you’re going to kidnap me then,” you turned to him and shrugged. You walked off and heard him scoff. 

When you got to your car, you squealed like a little girl. You were finally going on a date with him. You had been hoping this would happen since you joined the team a month ago. You quickly drove to your apartment to get ready. You took a shower to wash off the sweat from work today. You were going to wear the dress that Rossi gave you and the shoes you’d bought. Your makeup was very glam and your hair was curled. 

The doorbell interrupted you putting on your makeup. You were simply in a robe, you hadn’t put your dress on yet. You opened the door to see Spencer standing in a suit with a bouquet of roses, “You look nice.” 

“These are for you,” he handed you the pink roses.

The roses smelled like heaven, “these are my favorite, how did you know?” 

“I heard you talking about them to Garcia,” he stood there with a smile on his face.

“Oh, come in, I'm sorry,” you had completely forgot that you were still in a robe. “I haven’t finished getting ready yet.”

“I’m a little early,” he walked inside and looked around your apartment.

You gestured to the couch, “Make yourself comfortable, I should be done in a minute.” You walked back to your bedroom, but left the door open. You felt bad for leaving him by himself for so long. You were done with your makeup in the next five minutes. You put on your dress and entered the living room, “Are you ready?” He seemed to jump when you entered.

“You look...wow,” he was completely flustered with your appearance.

“Thank you,” you grabbed your keys and your gun.

“Right this way,” he opened the door for you, he followed you out and you locked the door. The two of you walked down the hallway and to your car. He gave you directions while you drove. You eventually arrived at Masseria in downtown DC. 

“Reservation for Spencer,” he told the hostess.

She looked up his name in her tablet, “Right this way, sir,” she grabbed two menus and led you to your table. 

Reid pulled your chair out for you, “thank you,” you sat down and he walked to the other side of the table. The waitress set the menus on the table and offered the two of you wine, you both declined. Eventually, the two of you ordered your food. He ordered the steak and you ordered the ravioli. During the dinner, you two made conversation. You talked about your time so far at Quantico and how you were liking the job, you talked about what you both studied in college. The waitress came back and asked if you would like dessert and you both declined. By nine, Reid was ready to go. He paid the check and you left. 

You started the car and were starting to go back to your apartment but Reid gave you instructions to a different place. In the heart of DC, he had you pull over and park the car. You were outside of a little ice cream shop. 

“I figured you would want to get dessert for less than $100,” he smiled as you got out of the car. 

You pointed at his suit, “aren’t we a little overdressed?”

“Who cares?” he walked over to the driver’s side and offered you his elbow. You interlocked your arm with his. 

You walked into the little ice cream parlor and strolled along the counter for a bit. They had 20 flavors by your count. “Can I have three scoops of the chocolate chip cookie dough?” You asked the older man working the counter, he nodded at your request and started to make your order. You walked over to the cash register and pulled out your credit card. 

“I’ll have three scoops of the pistachio,” Reid pointed at the green ice cream.

“Coming right up,” the old man put your ice cream by the cash register, and started to work on your order. It didn’t take him long to come back to the cash register where Reid had joined you. 

“Is that for here or to go?” The man looked at you two for a response. 

You opened your mouth to speak but Reid beat you to it, “to go.”

“Alright, that’ll be $10,” you handed the man your credit card. Reid went to grab his wallet but you stopped him before he could. 

You two grabbed your ice cream and got back into the car. You handed him your ice cream and started your car. He gave you more directions that eventually lead you to a hill overlooking all of DC. 

“Wow,” you stopped the car and admired the view for a minute before you heard Reid’s door open. You too got out of the car and followed him, he still had your ice cream in hand. You both walked to a part of the overlook where you could sit down. He handed you your ice cream and you both started to eat. 

“Truth or dare?” he asked you. 

“Truth,” you smiled at his game.

“How many boyfriends have you had?”

You cleared your throat, “one,” that was a really odd question for him to ask. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth,” he smiled. 

“Who is your favorite among the team?” You wanted to know who he felt safe with. 

“Morgan, he’s always had my back,” he seemed choked up about it. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare.”

“Really?”

You scoffed at his reply, “My friends and I played this a lot in college, you don’t want to know some of the things I did.”

“Alright then,” he smiled, “I dare you to eat the biggest scoop of ice cream you can.”

“That’s it?” It was kind of a stupid dare, “Ok,” you took a giant spoonful of ice cream and put it in your mouth. He was looking for you to get a brain freeze and you did, but you had trained yourself to not show a reaction to those sorts of things.

“Really? No reaction,” he seemed surprised at your straight face.

You finished eating your giant spoonful, “I don’t react to brain freezes,” you took another bite, “or lemon juice.”

“The phenomenon of a brain freeze is common enough to have been the subject of research published in the British Medical Journal and Scientific American. A study conducted by Maya Kaczorowski demonstrated a higher incidence of headache in subjects consuming an ice cream sample quickly, in less than 5 seconds, vs. those who consumed slowly, taking longer than 30 seconds, 27% and 12%, respectively,” he started to ramble.

“Reid,” you snapped him out of his rambling, “Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“What is your deepest darkest fear?” you leaned toward him.

“I guess it would be not being able to help people,” his face reflected feelings of sadness, “I’ve been trying to help people since I was young, and if I couldn’t do that I don’t know what I would do with my life.”

“That’s deep,” you laid down on the grass and looked up at the stars.

“Truth or Dare?” he laid down with his head next to yours but his feet in the opposite direction.

“Truth,” you sighed, the stars made you feel safe, that along with Spencer.

“What is your biggest regret?”

“I went on a trip in 2003 and while I was gone my grandma died,” a tear rolled down your cheek. “Before I left my dad told me that I could either stay and watch her die, or go on the trip.”

“I’m sorry,” He turned to look at you. “My dad left me and my mom when I was younger.”

You turned to look at him, “I’m sorry.” You felt a hand running through your hair. The two of you laid there and watched the stars for an hour or so, “Reid, stand up.” The two of you stood up.

“What’s wrong?” he was really nervous, after all you were so peaceful before.

You walked over to your car and started it, “nothing’s wrong,” you gestured for him to go back to the spot where the two of you were laying down. You connected your phone to the bluetooth and started to play ‘In the wee small hours of the morning’ by Frank sinatra.

“What are you doing?” He had a smile on his face.

“I’ve always wanted to do this,” you walked up to him and wrapped your arms around his neck.

He wrapped his arms around your waist and the two of you started to sway back and forth. You rested your head on his chest. The two of you danced for what seemed like a minute, but was really two hours. The fact that your car battery didn’t die was shocking. Eventually you two laid down on the ground. You put your head on his chest and he ran his fingers through your hair.

“There’s Orion's belt,” he pointed up at the sky.

“Cassiopeia,” you pointed at the W shaped constellation.

“Perseus.”

“Taurus,” this was a competition now.

“Gemini.”

“Auriga,” you pointed.

“Canis Major.”

“Pyxis,” I took astronomy class, bitch.

“Antilla.”

“Corvus,” you now see why people say that you’re too competitive.

“Crater.”

“Virgo,” your star sign.

“Libra.”

“Serpens Caput.”

“Hercules.

“Lyra,” this one was harder to find.

“Cepheus.”

“Ursa Minor”

“Ursa Major.

“Camelopardalis.”

“Lynx.”

You pointed at the stick figure, “Cancer.”

“Hydra.”

“Sextans.”

“Leo.”

“Leo Minor.”

“Bootes.”

“Draco.”

“Canas Venatici.”

“Alright,” you sat up from his chest, “you win.”

“Are you ready to go home?”

You yawned, “Yeah, it’s getting late.”

He stood up and offered you his hand to help you stand up, “I’ll drive.” He held his hands out for the keys.

“Thank you,” you yawned again and tossed him the keys. You got into the passenger seat. The drive down the hill was uneventful. Spencer would look over at you every once in a while. Eventually you fell asleep in the car. Spencer noticed this and turned the radio down. He smiled at your sleeping self. When he got to your apartment, he parked the car and walked over to the passenger side. He grabbed you and carried you bridal style up to your apartment. When you woke up you were in the elevator, still in Spencer’s arms. He smiled down at you and you snuggled into his chest. When he got to your door, he set you on your feet. You grabbed your keys and opened the door.

“Thank you for tonight,” you gave him a sleepy smile.

“Thank you for being a wonderful person to take on a date,” he smiled at you and started to walk down the hall.

“Hey, Spence,” he turned around at the sound of your voice. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” he started to walk back to you, standing in your doorway.

“Kiss me,” you stood up straight. You felt his lips hit yours and you immediately closed your eyes and wrapped your arms around his neck. You stayed in the passionate kiss for about three minutes, before he pulled away.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” Reid started to walk down the hallway toward the elevator. You entered your apartment and fell on your couch, completely dazed from the magical experience. 

[dukereviewsxtra]

Duke's Monsterween: Scooby Doo 2: Monsters Unleashed

Hello, I'm Andrew Leduc And Welcome To Duke Reviews Xtra Where We Continue Duke's Monsterween...

By Looking At The Sequel To Scooby Doo The Movie, Scooby Doo 2: Monsters Unleashed...

Written By James Gunn, Before He Made...

This Film Sees Mystery Inc Donating Some Of The Costumes From Their Famous Capers To The Coolsonian Museum In Their Hometown Of Coolsville..

But When A Mystery Man In A Costume, Brings The Pterodactyl Ghost To Life And Steals All The Costumes, It's Up To Mystery Inc To Find Out Who He Is And Stop Him Before He Brings The Other Costumes To Life...

Will They Do It Before An Unscrupulous Reporter Ruins Their Reputation As Mystery Solvers?

Let's Find Out As We Watch Scooby Doo 2: Monsters Unleashed...

The Film Starts With Mystery Inc Arriving At The New Coolsonian Museum Where They're Holding An Exhibit On Mystery Inc's Greatest Foes...

Hey, Look, Pat O'Brien Is There To Tell Daphne Not To Tell The Press About What He Said On Her Answering Machine...

Meeting Their Fans As They Enter The Museum (2 Of Them Being Smallville's Toyman And The Red SPD Ranger) Fred Is Briefly Interviewed By One Of The Film's Antagonists, Heather Jasper Howe (Played By Batgirl) Before They Go In..,

After They Give The Press A Tour Of The Museum, We Meet The Curator Of The Coolsonian Museum, Named Patrick (Played By Seth Green)

Who Only Took The Role So He Could Do This On Robot Chicken...

Also He'll Be Velma's Love Interest For This Movie...

With Velma Playing Hard To Get With Patrick, We Get A Bit Of A Spooky Atmosphere As Daphne Discovers That The Pterodactyl Ghost Costume Is Alive...

(End At 2:20)

After The Attack, Velma Discovers A Secret Hatch Where The Pterodactyl Ghost Was Along With A Scale From The Ghost Himself...

Fred Talks With Jasper-Howe About The Case Only For Her To Make Mystery Inc And Shaggy And Scooby Look Bad During Her Report....

With The Gang Blaming Themselves For Not Making Sure That Shaggy And Scooby Don't Get Everything Wrong, The 2 Friends Overhear And Blame Themselves For Being Screw-ups...

This Leads Them To Decide To Become As Good Of Detectives As Their Friends And...Failing At The First Try...

But As Shaggy And Scooby Attempt To Act Like Good Detectives In Front Of The Others, Fred, Velma And Daphne Discover That That The Scale From The Museum Is A Real Pterodactyl Scale...

Which Leaves The Only Question Being Who Could Create A Real Pterodactyl Ghost, This Leads Daphne To Bring Up The Original Pterodactyl Ghost, Jonathan Jacobo, Who Wrecked Havoc As The Pterodactyl Ghost Because He Wanted To Create Real Monsters...

But After He Attempted A Prison Break Which Lead To His Untimely Demise...

However, Jacobo's Cellmate, Jerimiah Wickles (The Black Knight Ghost) Was Released 2 Months Ago, Also The Black Knight Ghost Was One Of The Costumes Stolen...

So, They Go To Wickle's Mansion (Which Looks Like The Mansion From The Opening From The Series) Only To Fall Into A Trap When They Ring The Doorbell...

But Luckily Daphne Very Cleverly Uses Make-Up Items To Open The Lock...

Splitting Up To Search For Clues, Fred, Daphne And Velma Discover Glowing Footprints And A Book By Jonathan Jacobo On How To Create Your Own Carbon Based Monsters...

While Shaggy And Scooby (After Having A Sinatra Moment)...

Discover A Clue With The Words "Faux Ghost Tonight" Before Running Into A Very Real Black Knight Ghost..

(End At 3:04)

Returning To Their HQ, Shaggy And Scooby Don't Stay Long Faking Scooby Having Rabies So They Can Go To The Faux Ghost While Velma Discovers That The Pterodactyl Scale Contains Randamonium (Which Is One Of The Ingredients On How To Create Monsters)...

And With Randamonium Being Located At Silver Mines, They're About To Go Check Out The Old Abandoned Mining Town In Old Coolsville Until Patrick Shows Up Causing Velma To Become As Scared As A Bunny Rabbit As She Crawls Away Like A Baby...

With Daphne Giving Velma Advice, She Then Does A Quck Makeover...

(Start At 1:31, End At 1:39)

If She Wore That On Her First Date With Hawkeye, I Can See Why He Married Her...

Meanwhile, At The Faux Ghost, Scooby And Shaggy Discover That Tonight Some Of Their Former Enemies Are Throwing A Party There, So They Decide To Go Undercover So They Can Find Wickles...

Going Through The Crowd They Eventually Find Wickles And Have An Inkling He May Be The Bad Guy But They're Not Certain.,,

After A Dance Scene, Their Covers Are Blown And They're Chased Out Of The Faux Ghost...

Meanwhile, Fred, Velma, Daphne And Patrick Arrive At The Coolsonian Only To Discover That The 10,000 Volt Ghost And The Black Knight Ghost Have Stolen The Rest Of The Costumes...

As Patrick Decides To Go Off To Figure Things Out On His Own, Fred Gets Misquoted Again By Jasper Howe, Which Leads Daphne To Tell Her To Back The Hell Off...

But Howe Fires Back At Daphne Saying That While Everyone Has A Reason To Be In The Gang, What Good Is She Except For Being Just A Pretty Face...

Eventually She Says Something That Makes Daphne Believe That Howe Is The Mystery Bad Guy But Just As They're Talking The Bad Guy Shows Up, Meaning Howe Is Not The Bad Guy

And To People Who Knew Who The Bad Guy Was From The Very Beginning Of This Movie And Are Saying Who The Bad Guy Is In The Comments , Kiss My Ass And Don't Spoil It For The People Who Actually Like This Movie...

As Jasper Howe Leaves Bummed At The Fact She Got No Footage Of That...

Patrick Runs Into Shaggy And Scooby Who After Seeing Him Interrogate A Customer At The Faux Ghost, Have Suspicions That Patrick's The Mystery Guy But Again Aren't Sure...

Afterwards, Shaggy And Scooby Follow Wickles To The Old Abandoned Mining Town Where They Run Into The Skeleton Men But They Eventually Lose Them When The 2 Friends Discover A Secret Elevator...

As Fred, Velma And Daphne Arrive At The Mining Town, They Talk For A Bit About What Jasper Howe Said To Daphne And About Patrick Before Going To Talk To Wickles Who...Isn't Up To Anything Sinister...

Yes, Apparently They Interrupted A Pitch Meeting That Wickles Was Giving To A Couple Of Investors About Turning The Old Mining Town Into A Summer Camp...

As Long As It's Not Run By Peter McNichol And Christine Baranski, Then I'll Consider Sending My Kids There...

Asking Wickles About The Monster Attacks And Jacobo, He Has No Idea About The Monster Attacks And While He Was In Jail, Jacobo And Him Weren't Pals, So, Yeah, He's No Longer A Suspect...

Going Down In The Secret Elevator, Shaggy And Scooby Discover A Secret Laboratory But While They're Looking For Clues, Scooby Accidentally Drinks One Of The Formulas Inside Of The Fridge...

(Start At 0:14, End At 1:55)

Smart Scooby Attempts To Create A Formula To Change Them Back But Muscle Bod Shaggy Throws The Formula And Causes An Explosion, Which The Others Hear. Still Having A Little Bit Of The Formula Left, Shaggy And Scooby Are Reverted Back To Normal...

With Fred Disappointed At Shaggy And Scooby's Actions, Velma Tells Him To Shut Up So They Can Look Inside Of The Villain's Lair...

Once Inside, The Team Find The Monster Making Machine That Is Turning Costumes Into Real Life Monsters, Meaning That He Not Only Needs The Costumes To Make The Monsters But That He Already Had A Pterodactyl Ghost Costume...

This Leads Velma To Believe That Patrick Is The Bad Guy And That He Only Was Interested In Her To See What They Knew, Shaggy Somewhat Confirms This With How Patrick Was Acting At The Faux Ghost...

As The Others Go Off To Find A Way To Shut The Machine Down, Shaggy And Scooby Play With It And End Up Bringing More Monsters To Life, Including The Zombie, Captain Cutler's Ghost, Miner 49er, And The Tar Monster

No Creeper?!? That's It! From Now On This Movie And I Are Enemies...

I'm Kidding, Of Course, But Still I Wish They Got Rid Of Either The 10,000 Volt Ghost Or The Skeleton Men So They Could Have Added The Creeper Because They're Basically Useless...

With The Other Members Finding That The Monsters Are Alive, Fred Disconnects The Control Panel (Which Looks Like The Transmooker From Spy Kids 2) So Him And The Team Can Race Toward The Elevator...

However, They're Soon Confronted By The 10,000 Volt Ghost Who Follows Them Up As The Skeleton Men Appear Right Behind Them...

After Fred, Velma And Daphne Escape In The Mystery Machine, We Get A Trashboard Sequence With Shaggy And Scooby Who Are Being Chased By The Skeleton Men, But They Eventually Land In The Mystery Machine And Escape...

Meanwhile In Coolsville, A Ghost Pirate Ship Hovers Over The City As The Mystery Guy Demanding That Mystery Inc Turn Themselves In Or He'll Destroy The City...

First Off, How Are You Sailing On A Pirate Ship When Redbeard's Ghost Wasn't One Of The Monsters You Brought Back...

I Mean It Makes Even Less Sense Than The Titanic Magically Appearing At The Dock...

(Start At 0:14, End At 0:26)

That...Was Not Funny,.,

With Their Headquarters Being Dominated By Idiots Who Won't Wear A Mask Because "Their Rights Are Being Violated"...

They Head Back To Their Old Treehouse Headquarters, Where After A Flashback Velma Remembers Randamonium Has An Algorithmic Cross Currency Of -4.1 To One And If She Uses Her Old Multiple Resonance Imaging Device, She May Be Able To Reverse The Monster Making Process...

Managing To Fix The Device, They Get The Control Panel Ready To Reverse The Monster Making Process When On The Monster Machine, Mystery Inc Find That They Soon Have Company When Shaggy And Scooby See Captain Cutler's Ghost Rising From The Swamp By Their Treehouse...

After Losing Captain Cutler's Ghost, They're Soon Followed By The Pterodactyl Ghost, Who They Lose Just As Quickly...

Arriving At The Mining Town, They're Confronted By The Black Knight Ghost Who Fred Decides To Deal With, While The Others Go To Place The Device On The Monster Machine....

But On Their Way, The Team Dwindles When Daphne Goes To Deal With The 10,000 Volt Ghost And Velma Goes To Distract The Skeleton Men, But Not Before Telling Shaggy And Scooby That They're Not Screw-Ups And That She Always Wanted To Be As Carefree As They Are...

Fred And Daphne Manage To Defeat Both The 10,000 Volt Ghost And The Black Knight Ghost As Shaggy And Scooby Are Stopped By Miner 49er Before They Can Reach The Monster Machine...

But Eventually They Manage To Defeat Miner 49er With The Power Of Flaming Farts As Velma Escapes The Skeleton Men By Going Down A Vent...

Landing On The Ground, Velma Discovers That Whomever's Behind This Has A Shrine To Jonathan Jacobo. Patrick Enters And Tries To Help Velma But She Runs Away To A Metal Bridge Which She Falls Through..,

Patrick Catches Her And Tries To Help Her Up, But She's Afraid To Trust Him Because He May Be The Bad Guy But When He Says Something Romantic, Velma Let's Him Pull Him Up...

Only For Him To Be Carried Off By The Pterodactyl Ghost (Who I Thought Was Already Beaten)..

But Back To Shaggy And Scooby Who Are Having A Ghostly Encounter With A Rather Delicious Ghost...

(Start At 0:13, End At 0:59)

The Team Enters The Monster Hive Where The Monster Machine Is Only To Be Confronted By The Monsters And The Mystery Man..

Each Member Of The Team Except Scooby Is Being Held By The Tar Monster But Luckily Scooby Frees Them With The Help Of A Fire Hydrant..

(Start At 0:51, End At 2:27)

(In Scooby's Voice) Motherrucker!

With The Monsters Turned Back Into Costumes, The Mystery Guy Is Captured And Is Revealed To Be Heather Jasper Howe, Who Used Her Cameraman, Ned To Take Her Place As The Mystery Man When Daphne Figured Everything Out...

And The Reason Is Because Heather Jasper Howe Is Actually Jonathan Jacobo, Who Was Revealed To Be Alive When Velma Found A Newspaper Clipping Of Jacobo In Front Of The Coolsonian When It Was Under Construction...

Now What Better Way To End This Movie Than With American Idol Winner Ruben Studdard (Why Not? We Got Clay Aiken On The Soundtrack So Why Not Get His Competitor?) And A Game Code For The GBA Game That Doesn't Work...

Believe Me I've Tried It...

This Movie Is About As Good As The First One...

The Story Is Well Written, The Characters Are Better Than They Were In The First And The Monsters Are Very Well Designed, All In All, I Say See It...

Tune In On Friday As We Look At The Real Reason I'm Reviewing Scooby Doo During This First Week Of Monsterween...

But Till Then, This Is Duke, Signing Off...

[illshowyourhurricanes]

Bah Humbug

This is an early holiday transitory one to help you move along from your craving for that distinct autumn smell to all things wintery! Originally set to be a feel-good drabble for @the-blind-assassin-12​ just because I adore her, it kind of got away from me and turned into a full-on one-shot! Special thanks to @something-tofightfor​ for taking the time to read and critique. Enjoy this big ball of fluff, courtesy of our very own Ryan Brenner!

No trigger warnings here, rated Disney movie G.

Word count: 2119

Tag list: @dylanobrusso​ @obscurilicious​ @the-blind-assassin-12​ @something-tofightfor​ @ms-delos​ @madamrogers​ @lexxierave​ @agent-bossypants​ @yannii04​ @gollyderek​ @carlaangel86​ @poindexted​ @maydayfigment​ @thisisparadisemylove​ @ladyofnaps​ 

If you’d like to be added to/removed from my tag list, just shoot me an ask! Hope you enjoy, and thanks for reading!

You hated Christmas carols. 

There was no valid reason behind it, but you loathed them, you didn’t want to hear about jingling bells, or sleigh bells ringing. You’d learned long ago that Santa Claus was always in town in the form of your parents and you were over hearing about a make-believe reindeer being bullied. And Frosty the Snowman? All snowmen melt. It’s science. Snow itself was something you never felt up to dealing with, and people wrote songs about wishing for it?! What idiots. 

The biggest predicament regarding Christmas carols was that they could not be avoided starting the first of November. Ghouls and goblins and an infinite amount of Avengers and Frozen Princesses were immediately traded in for ugly sweaters and Santa hats. It was American culture and you didn’t mind it…it was what came along with it that made you a Grinch. You couldn’t watch any TV without being harassed with commercials including some type of carol, and forget shopping. You were assaulted the moment you stepped inside a too-warm department store. You’d only run inside for three items, and upon stepping into the door, you steeled yourself for the inevitability. It would be a quick trip, in and out. 

Except the store was congested with so many people, your usual long strides you reserved for these kinds of atrocities was reduced to a slow, staggered creeping. The only thing worse than Christmas carols was Christmas carols playing when surrounded by people. 

You were in Hell. 

Finally, you were able to reach the shampoo aisle, a blaring speaker anchored to the ceiling directly above your head. It was impossible to tune the music out, and Frank Sinatra began crooning about being home for Christmas. But only in my dreams. It was one carol that brought a rush of warmth and comfort into your heart, followed by a pang of longing and a vivid memory. You missed him. 

*** *** ***

Summer had turned to autumn without you noticing. The air was cooler, less humid.  The days had grown shorter and there was a  buzz in the air. Sandals and sundresses were replaced with boots and scarves, and fuzzy socks became an indoor necessity. You knew this wasn’t just a cool snap when you heard leaves crunching beneath your feet as you reached your front porch, eyes scanning your yard quickly. How hadn’t you noticed until that moment that your grass had been blanketed in leaves in varying shades of fire:  rich auburn, burnt orange, golden yellow. Pausing as you looked, you heard a scuffling coming from behind your home, and you walked carefully around the perimeter of your home. A smile illuminated your face and adoration squeezed in your chest. Autumn leaves were gathered into two large piles, and Ryan was raking the remainder of what was left into a third heap as you approached him. 

“What are you doing, Ryan Brenner?” You tended to use his first and last name in situations like these, where you found him doing sweet things he never gave a second thought. His full name was beginning to replace the use of just ‘Ryan’ or, sometimes, just a shortened ‘Ry’. 

The rake he held in his hands stilled on the ground and he leaned his weight against it, his chest rising and falling quickly as he caught his breath. Raising his shoulders in a shrug, he glanced around your cleared back yard before his eyes landed on you, nothing but you. “Yard work.” 

His answer was quick and simple, obvious, and you laughed, the crunching of dead leaves under your feet ceasing as you walked closer and greeted him with a quick kiss, followed by one that you lingered in. “You’re supposed to be visiting, relaxing. Not doing my yard work,” you teased. “

You know I can’t stay still for long,” he smiled. Yes, all too well.  The thought alone gifted him with another kiss. “I’m sweatin’, Y/N,” he said in his his slight Southern drawl. He wiped at his forehead with the back of one hand, the other still supporting the rake. “

“Hmm, seems like I don’t care much, doesn’t it?” You pecked at his lips once more in a playful fashion. “Can the mention of food coerce you inside?” You raised your brows and caught his startling dark eyes with yours, walking backward for a few paces before turning around to retreat indoors. You had leftovers to heat up.  

*** *** ***

After dinner was eaten and the dishes were set out to dry, you opted to change while Ryan cleaned up with the help of a hot, steamy shower. You slipped out of your clothes and pulled on a soft pair of pants, an oversized sweatshirt you loved to sleep in, and a warm pair of wool socks. Settling onto the couch with a book, you sat sideways, your back against the sofa’s arm. You heard Ryan’s footsteps against the old wooden floor before you saw him. Yet when you did, your book was forgotten as you let your eyes linger over his form. His dark, overgrown hair was wet, brushed back from his forehead. Low on his hips were a worn pair of sweatpants, his feet bare and a t-shirt covering his upper half, and he was holding his guitar. You’d barely opened your book, but you closed it and set it aside, raising your brows and offering him a smile. 

“What’s the occasion?” you nodded at the guitar. Ryan chuckled and bent to kiss your hair before crossing the room and settling on the hearth. You knew better than to start a fire; it was something Ryan had unofficially made his duty when he was in town. You’d opted to use the heater for quick warmth when the two of you came inside. 

“Just another day, Y/N,” Ryan said with a smile. You couldn’t remember a day you hadn’t seen Ryan without a guitar on his lap or heard music wafting from another room; there probably hadn’t been a music-free day since you’d known him. “Got somethin’ special for you.”

You gave him your full attention as his tattooed fingers of his left hands settled on the strings and right hand began strumming. The tune sounded vaguely familiar, but it wasn’t until he started singing that you nodded in recognition, just before groaning in protest. Ryan only smiled, continuing on seamlessly with his rendition of “I’ll Be Home For Christmas”. He knew Christmas carols weren’t your favorite, but he also knew that you wouldn’t mind as much so long as he was the one playing. 

The scowl didn’t stay on your face for long, however. Ryan had chose that particular song for a reason. You knew the time was coming for him to chase the trains again, just as the weather was getting colder and the first snow of the season was looming on the horizon. By the time the song came to an end, there was only a look of understanding on your face as Ryan’s eyes met yours, and he set his guitar aside. Swinging your legs over the side of the couch, you made your way across the room to perch on his lap and kissed his forehead before looking down at him, smiling halfway through your disappointment at his leaving soon. “I hated it.”

*** *** ***

 It had taken a full half an hour to grab a bottle of shampoo and a box of hot cocoa and pay for your items. You’d planned a full grocery shop, but every aisle in the store was congested with last-minute shoppers and you had far exceeded your Christmas cheer quota for the day. Ordering pizza for delivery had never sounded like a better idea, and by the time you made your trek through the parking lot, the last minutes of sunlight had passed. It was a full moon, the heavy clouds illuminated by the moonlight. They were ominous, a promise of snowfall at any given moment. It couldn’t be a more picture-perfect Christmas Eve, straight out of a mass-printed Rockwell painting. You idly remembered stacking more firewood beside the fireplace the night before, and mentally thanked yourself for a job well-done. If you didn’t have such a thick blanket of dead leaves between your driveway and the door, you’d make a run for it.

When you pulled into the drive and put your car in park, a small light caught your eye and your brow furrowed. During the time in your childhood where you had been certain you’d grow up to be an entomologist, you read ravenously and absorbed as much information as possible, most of which you remembered. You knew that fireflies hibernate in winter, and just as the thought jogged your memory, you saw the flicker again. Chalking it up to some form of reflection thanks to the light of the moon, you pulled your keys from the ignition, threaded your arm through the handles of the plastic bag that held your purchase, and steeled yourself for the assault of the frigid air. 

While making your beeline for the door, your vision caught another flicker of light, this one brighter and and not as brief. “What the…” you whispered under your breath, trying to decide whether to keep your pace steady or go against all common sense and make a run for it. Could this day get any worse? Could Christmas possibly be more of a pain in the ass? 

As you briskly approached your home, you squinted against the darkness and could vaguely make out a figure lounging on your porch steps. You’d remembered firewood, but you hadn’t remembered to leave a light on, and you were certain that this was it. You’d be starring in your very own television special, featured as the frozen corpse found in the snow just outside your home, and you didn’t know whether to laugh or scream when you heard a voice.

“Merry Christmas, darlin’.” 

You froze for a moment, mouth dropping open. You’d recognize that deep tenor and slight drawl anywhere. A light thud sounded as you dropped your bag in surprise, and you bent quickly to pick it back up. You made a run for it the rest of the way as Ryan stubbed out a half-smoked cigarette. There was your firefly.

Throwing your arms around him, you squeezed your eyes shut. “How was…?”

“Raleigh,” he reminded you, holding you close. He gently swayed back and forth, pressing a lingering kiss to your temple. “Lotta places to set up and play. Nice, mild weather.” He pulled back to look at you, his face holding a serious expression. “Not enough firewood for kindlin’. Not enough people honest enough to tell me when they hate my songs.”

You laughed, taking a step back and lacing your fingers with his. “If you’re itching to start a fire, you’re in for a treat. And I bought cocoa, the instant kind with the little marshmallows.” You shrugged apologetically, scrunching your nose as he reached for his pack and slung his guitar case over his shoulder. “I was wallowing. I couldn’t stand to walk around that store long enough to buy anything more than I had to, so instant cocoa it was.” You paused as you slid your keys in the lock, hurrying inside and ushering Ryan in as you flipped on the light switch. “Not to mention the Christmas carols.” Dramatically, you put on a fake shudder.

He shook his head wryly as he set down his things, gifting you a smile as he took the few steps to close the distance between you. Sliding his hands up and down your arms, his smile softened as he searched your face, pink from the cold. “You’re beautiful,” he said softly, leaning in and ducking his head to press a kiss to your lips. “I told you I’d be home for Christmas.”

Home. You weren’t one to dwell on the semantics of things, but with Ryan, you knew they mattered. He didn’t say he’d be here for Christmas or back for Christmas; he said he’d be home for Christmas, and here he was. There was nothing in that moment that could bring you down, everything in the world feeling perfect. The warm body next to yours was one the thing that you wanted, more than anything else in the world. 

“Merry Christmas, Ryan.” You finally returned the sentiment, closing your eyes for a few beats as you leaned your forehead against his. “Can I ask for a favor?”

He moved his forehead from yours, looking down at you with his dark, warm eyes. There was a glimmer there on the surface, and it warmed your heart. Ryan looked happy, and there was nothing quite like it. 

“Anything.” 

You grinned impishly, reaching up to pull his cap from his head, running your fingers through his thick hair for good measure. “Give me your best version of Jingle Bells.”

[rogersradio]

borhap boys on their wedding day

ben

- BIG BRITISH WEDDING

- you both invited so many people you probably had more attendees than the royal wedding

- “ben i‘m going to be like meghan markle”

“you are a princess, love”

- you guys stick to tradition and don’t see eachother before the wedding

- when you get to the venue that morning, there’s coffees and donuts waiting for you and your bridesmaids in the bridal suite along with a letter from ben

- you make the mistake of reading the letter while you were getting your makeup done because you had to redo it all because of all the tears

- you take the wedding photos in front of the church, which had huge white pillars and glass doors

- ben is basically just speechless the whole time because he’s never seen anyone look as beautiful as you

- the ben and groomsmen wore white suits with black pants + black bow ties, while your girls wore grey dresses

- you two decide to write your own vows and ben stutters almost every two sentences because he’s nervous

- you have a big wedding reception afterward

- you decided to get a one tier cake and a lot of cupcakes instead of a huge cake

- your first dance is a slow dance of you just holding ben close as y’all sway around to the song

- the rest of the night ben would twirl you around on the dance floor and convince you to join some of the fun group dances like footloose

- at some point you to go back and sit at the table together, watching everybody dance and eat cake

- you take off your heels and lean back against him because everything aches and you’re getting tired

- “did you feel like meghan markle babe”

“no, but i definitely found my prince”

+ your honeymoon flight got cancelled and you had to stay overnight at the airport instead of a hotel, so you guys did the most wack things at 3 am because almost nobody was there (raving while sliding on your socks in the walkways were a big one)

joe

- you settle on a relatively small wedding with good friends and family at small venue in california

- you both screw the tradition of seeing eachother before walking down the isle and have a huge breakfast with all the wedding party at the venue

- joe absolutely SPOILS you the day of

- you’ll walk into your bridal suite with all your girls to see flowers and a gold necklace with “mrs” in cursive letters

- he also writes a note on your flower ribbon that says “here’s to forever”

- you both hire one of your photographer friends to hang out the entire day and capture the moments

- they get a lot of good candid ones of you putting on your makeup or joe putting on his clufflinks and ben helping him with his tie (your favorites)

- joe takes all the funny groomsmen photos

- when you’re going through them later you find like 5 serious ones, which turn out really well

- where as all the other ones are of joe holding out his ring finger with all the guys looking shocked and the classic sorority girl poses + plus one of joe pretending to throw your bouquet

- all of the groomsmen wear superhero socks, of course

- you and joe wear white and black converse instead of heels and dress shoes

- joe cries more than you do when you walk down the isle

- “you’re perfect, you know”

- you have a simple two tier wedding cake with your favorite flavor on bottom and joe’s on top because you two couldn’t decide on one

- you and joe have a choreographed first dance that includes all your wedding party (and sunglasses)

- you absolutely dance the night away and end up going barefoot

- when the night is almost over and half the people are gone you and joe do your final dance to “you make me feel so young”

- “best day of my life, babe”

+ joe helps ben catch the bouquet at the ceremony and you are not happy

+ “joe francis i swear-“

gwilym

- very superstitious

- he refuses any idea of seeing you before the wedding itself

- “we could take photos before in the morning lighting-“

“no absolutely not”

- you only end up getting photos during the ceremony and after because it started raining as soon as the reception started and you couldn’t go outside

- it’s a super cute outdoor wedding

- you set up for the ceremony in the back of this small wedding venue where the after party would be held

- you literally have the most secreted wedding and it’s so nice to be away from all the press he gets

- both of your rings are engraved on the inside with your wedding date and each other’s names

- you both are super symbolic like that, so a lot of little things that meant a lot were added into your wedding

- gwilym wore a handkerchief in his suit pocket that his dad wore in his wedding day and you wore the necklace your mom wore

- they both meant a lot to you

- gwilym pulls through to have live music at your wedding reception

- they play all of your favorite songs, per his request (a lot of queen and frank sinatra)

- you definitely have a donut wall that joe takes as his que to recreate him eating a donut in slow motion (but now it’s “wedding edition”)

- you guys took wedding dance lessons together and every once in a while during your first dance you’ll hear him whisper the “1,2,3,4” that you guys rehearsed with because he doesn’t want to mess it up

- you both end up changing into more casual attire (a short, casual dress for you and khakis with a button up for him)

- you definitely smash the cake in his face when you do the tasting

- he pouted for like 10 minutes afterward

- you two end up being the last ones to leave the venue because your flight doesn’t leave until tomorrow night and you have no where to be

- he wraps his blazer around you and walks you out, thanking you for making him the happiest man on earth

+ brian and anita send you a photo album with your names on it and says “to the moon and back” under them and you both almost cry

rami

- clueless, but he tries his best

- “there doesn’t need to be that many people at our wedding, y/n. besides, i haven’t seem n my aunt in like twenty years”

“rami it’s curtesy”

“i don’t even remember her name, though!”

- in reality he’s super excited

- he’s wanted to marry you forever and the thought of finally calling you his wife in less than 24 hours makes him cry

- you write letters to each other to read the morning of the wedding, when you’re both at home

- rami never had a way with words, but the letter was absolutely beautiful, describing the way he felt when he first met you and the joy he felt when you said yes to marrying him

- when you got to your suite, there was cooled champagne and a tower of fruit and sweets waiting for you

- “he knows me so well”

- you hire a videographer instead of a photographer because you wanted to capture something more than a photo

- they get really good shots of rami laughing and you stepping into your heels and your bridesmaids helping you button your dress (rami saves that one to his phone)

- he’s super fidgety

- the whole time he’s waiting for you to walk down the isle he’s moving, whether it’s turning around and talking to his groomsmen or fixing his suit in some way

- twirls you when you walk down the isle together and stops to kiss you half way

- the fastest ceremony ever because rami booked the wrong flight time and you left 3 hours earlier than u had planned

- “i swear it said 8:30”

“well we leave at 5:30 so let’s get rolling”

- you have a photo booth at the reception and take about 500 photos with everyone

- you guys had a macaroon cake instead of the traditional wedding cake because it was a lot easier

- and the fact that rami couldn’t choose a cake flavor he liked also contributed, but he refuses to accept that

- after your first dance, he asks your mom to dance with him instead of sitting down with you (you couldn’t handle it)

- “thank you for that”

“anything for you, love”

+ he actually makes an instagram post for the occasion and it’s just solely a candid, laughing photo of you in your dress

+ captions it “a day worth posting for”