#fancy dan the cocktail man | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

19761107 · 7 months

Text

『Forrest Gump』PART4~Are you trying to take revenge on someone for your precious efforts?

23. Promise with a friend

Forrest is given a discharge from the Army.

ーーーーーーーーーー

Forrest's narration:

"And just like that, my service in the United States Army was over."

"So I went home."

ーーーーーーーーーー

Forrest saw his mother for the first time in a while.

ーーーーーーーーーー

Forrest: "I'm home, Mama."

Forrest's mother: "I know. I know."

Forrest's narration: "When I got home, I had no idea, but Mama’d had all sorts of visitors."

Forrest's mother:

"We've had all sorts of visitors."

"Everybody wants you to use their ping-pong stuff.'"

"One man even left a check for $25,000 if you’d be agreeable to saying you like using their paddle.'"

Forrest:

"I only like using my own paddle."

"Hi, Miss Louise."

Forrest's mother:

"I know that, but it's $25,000, Forrest."

"I thought maybe you could hold it for a while, see if it grows on you."

Forrest's narration:

"That Mama, she sure was right."

"It’s funny how things work out.''

"I didn’t stay home for long because it’d made a promise to Bubba, and I always try to keep promise, so I went on down to Bayou La Batre to meet Bubba’s family."

Bubba's mother: "Are you crazy or just plain stupid?"

Forrest: "Stupid is as stupid does, Mrs Blue."

Bubba's mother: "I guess."

Forrest's narration: "And, of course I paid my respect to Bubba himself."

Forrest:

"Hey, Bubba. It's me, Forrest Gump."

"I remember everything you said, and I got it all figured out."

"I'm taking $24,562.47 that I got, that's left after a new haircut and a new suit, and I took Mama out to a real fancy dinner, and I bought a bus ticket, and three Dr. Peppers."

"That's what's left after me saying, 'When I was in China on the All-America ping-pong them, I just loved playing ping-pong with my Flex-o-lite ping-pong paddle, which everybody knows isn't true, but Mama said it was just a little white lie."

"So anyway, I'm putting all that on gas, ropes, and new nets and a brand new shrimping-boat."

ーーーーーーーーーー

In "Cast Away," the main character drinks Dr. Pepper after being rescued.

I think the director likes it.

With the money he had, Forrest bought a fishing boat.

ーーーーーーーーーー

Fisherman: "Tell me something. Are you stupid or something?"

Forrest: "Stupid is as stupid does, sir."

ーーーーーーーーーー

24. Shrimp fishing boat

Forrest's narration:

"Bubba told me everything he knew about shrimping, but you know what I found out?"

"Shrimping is tough."

Forrest: "I only caught five."

Fisherman:

"A couple more, you can have yourself a cocktail."

"You ever think about naming this old boat?"

"It's bad luck to have a boat without a name."

Forrest's narration: "I'd never named a boat before, but there was only one I could think of, the most beautiful name in the wide world."

ーーーーーーーーーー

The nameplate of the ship had 'JENNY' written on it.

A scene of Jenny's recent status is included.

Jenny was smoking marijuana with her friends at a disco.

Her skin was dry and her eyes were covered in strong eyeshadow.

She was high on drugs and about to jump off the balcony of his apartment building.

Jenny's 'feeling of emptiness' turned into escapism, and her spirit was driven to the brink of death.

Jenny suddenly felt cold in the strong wind on the balcony and needed warmth to wrap her up.

Jenny, crying and shaking, looks at the bright moon in the night sky.

Jenny seemed to be asking someone for help.

ーーーーーーーーーー

Forrest's narration:

"I hadn't heard from Jenny in a long while, but I thought about her a lot."

"I hoped whatever she was doing made her happy."

"I thought about Jenny all the time."

ーーーーーーーーーー

As Forrest continues fishing for shrimp under the bright, sunny skies, a familiar face catches his eye.

It was Lieutenant Dan.

Forrest waves from the boat to Dan on the shore.

He was so happy that he jumped from the ship into the sea, and the ship remained sailing until it became deserted.

ーーーーーーーーーー

Forrest: "Lieutenant Dan, What are you doing here?"

ーーーーーーーーーー

I think the reason Forrest still calls 'Dan Lieutenant' is out of consideration for Dan, who values honor.

Everyone should no longer be fooled by Forrest's 'stupid' actions.

Director Robert Zemeckis did it all on purpose.

ーーーーーーーーーー

Lieutenant Dan: "Well, thought I'd try out my sea legs."

Forrest: "Well, you ain't got no legs, Lieutenant Dan."

Lieutenant Dan:

"Yes, I know that."

"You wrote me a letter, you idiot."

"Well, well. Captain Forrest Gump."

"I had to see this for myself."

"And I told you if you were ever a shrimp-boat captain, that I'd be your first mate."

"Well, here I am."

"I'm a man of my word."

"But don't you be thinking that I'm doing to be calling you 'sir' ."

Forrest: "No, sir."

ーーーーーーーーーー

A ship with no crew crashes into the dock.

ーーーーーーーーーー

Forrest: "That's my boat."

ーーーーーーーーーー

25. Battlefield of Hope

The two of them went on a voyage morning, noon, and night, just like the old battlefield.

The song "The President" ~Randy Newman~ plays.

ーーーーーーーーーー

Lieutenant Dan:

"I have a feeling if we head due east, we'll find some shrimp, so take a left! "

"Take a left! "

ーーーーーーーーーー

Dan is like a captain searching for his enemy, and his life after losing his legs is as lively as it is a lie.

ーーーーーーーーーー

Forrest: "Which way?"

Lieutenant Dan:

"Over there! They're over there! "

"Get on the wheel and take a left."

"Gump, what are you doing? Take a left! Left! "

"That's where we're going to find those shrimp, my boy! "

"That's where we'll find them."

ーーーーーーーーーー

Forrest pulls up his net, but he can't catch any shrimp.

ーーーーーーーーーー

Forrest: "Still no shrimp, Lieutenant Dan."

Lieutenant Dan: "OK, so I was wrong."

Forrest: "How are we going to find them?"

Lieutenant Dan: "Maybe you should just pray for shrimp."

ーーーーーーーーーー

The honest Forrest immediately goes to church to pray.

They are so flamboyant that they even sing gospel songs with black women in the chorus.

ーーーーーーーーーー

Forrest's narration:

"So I went to church every Sunday."

"Sometimes Lieutenant Dan came too, though he left the praying up to me.''

Forrest: "No shrimp."

Lieutenant Dan: "Where the hell's this God of yours?"

Forrest's narration: "It's funny Lieutenant Dan said that, 'cause right then God showed up."

ーーーーーーーーーー

One stormy day, Forrest and Dan were fishing.

Dan was shouting into the storm just as he was on the battlefield.

It was as if I was fighting against his own fate.

ーーーーーーーーーー

Lieutenant Dan: "You'll never sink..."

Forrest's narration: "Now, me, I was scared, but Lieutenant Dan, he was mad."

Lieutenant Dan:

"Come on! You call this a storm?"

"Come on, you son of a bitch!"

"It's time for a showdown! You and me! "

"I'm right here! Come and get me! "

"You'll never sink this boat! "

TV Narrator:

"Hurricane Carmen came through here yesterday, destroying nearly everything in its path."

"And as in other towns up and down the coast, Bayou La Batre's entire shrimping industry has fallen victim to Carmen and has been left in utter ruin."

Forrest's narration:

"After that, shrimping was easy."

"Since people still needed them shrimps for shrimp cocktails and barbecues and all, we were the only boat left standing, Bubba-Gump Shrimp's what they got."

"We got a whole bunch of boats."

"Twelve Jennys, big old warehouse."

"We even have hats that say 'Bubba-Gump' on them."

"Bubba-Gump Shrimp. A household name."

Middle-aged man at the bus stop:

"Hold on there, boy."

"Are you telling me you're the owner of the Bubba-Gump shrimp Corporation?"

Forrest: "Yes. We got more money than Davy Crockett."

ーーーーーーーーーー

The man burst into laughter.

ーーーーーーーーーー

Middle-aged man at the bus stop:

"Boy! I heard some whoppers in my time, but that tops them all."

"We were sitting next to a millionaire."

ーーーーーーーーーー

The man leaves laughing.

Strangely, people come near the Forrest.

An old woman was sitting on a bench listening to Forrest's story.

ーーーーーーーーーー

Old woman: "Well, I thought it was a very lovely story, and you tell it so well, with such enthusiasm."

Forrest: "Would you like to see what Lieutenant Dan looks like?"

Old woman: "Yes, I would."

ーーーーーーーーーー

Forrest shows his grandmother the cover of 'FORTUNE magazine' featuring him and Dan.

ーーーーーーーーーー

Forrest: "That's him right there."

ーーーーーーーーーー

The old woman opened her eyes in surprise.

ーーーーーーーーーー

Forrest: "Let me tell you something about Lieutenant Dan."

ーーーーーーーーーー

Let's go back to the episode on the fishing boat.

26.Thank you

ーーーーーーーーーー

Lieutenant Dan:

"Forrest..."

"I never thanked you for saving my life."

ーーーーーーーーーー

With that said, Dan freely jumped into the sea like a mermaid, with the beautiful sunset in the background.

His body, which had lost its legs, looked like a fish with a tight fit.

The water that Dan jumped into was scattered all over the camera.

It's a very beautiful moment.

Then Dan swam backstroke underwater, feeling satisfied.

It's a very moving scene.

ーーーーーーーーーー

Forrest's narration: "He never actually said so, but I think he made his peace with God."

ーーーーーーーーーー

I think Forrest's respect for Dan, which has remained the same ever since he met Dan in Vietnam, is an attitude that we all need to emulate.

I think the reason everyone feels soothed when they are around Forrest is because of his kind heart, which unconditionally acknowledges the existence of others.

Dan didn't thank Forrest for his shrimping success.

It must be because it helped him regain his confidence and self-esteem.

27.Mother's will

American history continues.

ーーーーーーーーーー

TV Narrator: "For the second time in 17 days , President Ford escaped possible assassination today.."

ーーーーーーーーーー

Forrest receives a call that his mother is not well.

Forrest rushes to his mother.

She was in bed on the second floor with her doctor.

ーーーーーーーーーー

Forrest's mother: "Hi, Forrest."

Attending doctor: "Sure got you straightened out, didn't we, boy?"

Forrest: "What's the matter, Mama?"

Forrest's mother:

"I'm dying, Forrest."

"Come on in, sit down over here."

Forrest: "Why are you dying, Mama?"

Forrest's mother:

"It's my time. It's just my time."

"Now, don't you be afraid, sweetheart."

"Death is just a part of life."

"Something we're all destined to do."

"I did't know it, but I was destined to be your mama."

"I did the best I could."

Forrest: "You did good."

Forrest's mother:

"Well, I happen to believe you make your own destiny."

"You have to do the best with what God gave you."

Forrest: "What is my destiny, Mama?"

Forrest's mother:

"You're going to have to figure that out for yourself."

"Life is a box of chocolates, Forrest."

"You never know what you're going to get."

ーーーーーーーーーー

It was Forrest's mother's final lecture to her son.

You decide the meaning of your existence.

I think that's why we can live with vitality and energy.

There are many people who choose suicide.

I don't think anyone other than him has the right to stop it.

What is left behind is painful.

Instead...I think human dramas like this are born because we want people to choose to live.

All we can do is offer a chance, help, and encouragement.

I think it's a way to show respect for the person in question, and it's also destiny.

If the person's mind is severely affected and they are depressed, I would like them to be taken to a psychiatrist, as taking psychiatric medication can relieve them of the feelings of wanting to commit suicide.

ーーーーーーーーーー

Forrest's narration: "Mama always had a way of explaining things so I could understand them."

Forrest's mother: "I will miss you, Forrest."

Forrest's narration:

"She had got the cancer and died on a Tuesday."

"I bought her a new hat with little flowers on it."

"And that's all I have to say about that.''

Forrest: "Don't you want the number seven bus?"

Old lady at the bus stop: "There'll be another one along shortly."

ーーーーーーーーーー

So saying, the old woman wiped her tears with her handkerchief.

ーーーーーーーーーー

Forrest:

"Now, because I had been a football star and war hero and national celebrity and a shrimping-boat captain and a college graduate, the city of Greenbow decided to get together and offered me a fine job.''

"So I never went back to work for Lieutenant Dan, though he did take care of my Bubba-Gump money."

"He got me invested in some kind of fruit company."

"He said we don't have to worry about money no more, and I said, 'That's good. One less thing'."

ーーーーーーーーーー

The company Dan invested in was Apple Computer when it was a venture company.

ーーーーーーーーーー

Forrest: "Thanks to you, I have one less thing to worry about."

Forrest's narration:

"Now, Mama said there's only so much fortune a man really needs, and the rest is just for showing off.''

"So I gave a whole bunch of it to the Foursquare Gospel Church."

"And I gave a whole bunch to the Bayou La Batre fishing hospital."

"And even though Bubba was dead and Lieutenant Dan said I was nuts, I gave Bubba's mama Bubba's share."

"You know what?"

"She didn't have to work in nobody's kitchen no more."

"And 'cause I was a gazillionaire and I liked doing it so much, I cut that grass for free."

"But at night-time when there was nothing to do and the house was all empty, I'd always think of Jenny."

ーーーーーーーーーー

28. Peaceful 'For(r)est'

Forrest begins to see visions of Jenny at night.

ーーーーーーーーーー

Forrest's narration: "And then, she was there."

Jenny: "Hello, Forrest."

Forrest: "Hello, Jenny."

ーーーーーーーーーー

Was Jenny looking for casual, natural kindness like this simple greeting?

Jenny hugged him, as if absorbing Forrest's kindness, as if recalling a familiar smell.

ーーーーーーーーーー

Forrest Narration:

"Jenny came back and stayed with me."

"Maybe it was because she had nowhere else to go, or maybe because she was so tired, 'cause she slept and slept, like she hadn't slept in years."

"It was wonderful having her home."

"Every day we'd take a walk, and I'd jabber or like a monkey in a tree, and she'd listen about ping-ponging and shrimping and Mama making a trip up to heaven.''

"I did all the talking.."

"Jenny most of the time was real quiet.''

ーーーーーーーーーー

On our walk, we arrived at Jenny's birthplace.

Jenny threw the shoes she was wearing at her old home.

Then, as if possessed, she threw many stones around.

ーーーーーーーーーー

Jenny: "How could you do this?"

ーーーーーーーーーー

After collapsing, Jenny burst into tears.

Jenny finally learned that the cause of her unhappiness was her family environment.

A family that didn't receive love.

This is where the feeling of hunger for love is born, and even when she becomes an adult, she remains thirsty throughout her life.

A life where she becomes dependent on others and is taken advantage of.

She tries to create an ideal image to rid herself of her sense of worthlessness, but her efforts fall short.

A life that gradually burns out, feels a sense of emptiness, turns to avoidance, and becomes sick of escaping reality.

Jenny's only escape from reality was death.

The only warmth that remained inside Jenny.

It was when she was a child that she slept peacefully next to Forrest.

Occasional reunions with Forrest and constant warm letters.

It was a light that warmed Jenny's heart.

Forest gently sat down beside Jenny.

ーーーーーーーーーー

Forrest Narration:

"Sometimes I guess there just aren't enough rocks."

"I never really knew why she came back, but I didn't care."

"It was like olden times."

"We was like peas and carrots again.''

"Every day, I'd pick pretty flowers and put them in her room for her, and she gave me the best gift anyone could ever get in the wide world."

Jenny: "They're just for running."

ーーーーーーーーーー

It was a pair of Nike sneakers that matched the color of Bubba Gump's hat.

ーーーーーーーーーー

Forrest narration:

"And she even showed me how to dance."

"Well, we was like family, Jenny and me."

"It was the happiest time in my life."

ーーーーーーーーーー

One night, Forrest sees Jenny looking at a magazine.

Forrest stopped Jenny as she was about to go upstairs to her bedroom to sleep.

ーーーーーーーーーー

Forrest:

"Will you marry me?."

"I'd make a good husband, Jenny."

Jenny: "You would, Forrest."

Forrest: "But you won't marry me."

Jenny: "You don't want to marry me."

Forrest:

"Why don't you love me, Jenny?"

"I'm not a smart man, but I know what love is."

ーーーーーーーーーー

Those were the words that Forrest had been told by Jenny earlier.

For Jenny, 'love' was something to be 'received'.

It's something she's been searching for and searching for ever since she was a child.

It was never something Jenny would 'give' to anyone.

Jenny didn't have the love to 'give'.

Unless people love themselves, they cannot be truly kind to others.

You cannot 'give' love.

That is the only qualification required to love.

Jenny has not yet come to terms with her life.

She still curses her situation.

Only by accepting one's own unhappiness can one move forward.

That's what it means to love yourself.

'Unconditional love' and 'free love' for yourself

Only in this way will buds begin to sprout from the soil within you, and the 'self' will grow.

Isn't it possible to 'give' a lot of love to others from there?

Jenny came into the bedroom where Forrest was sleeping.

Jenny silently lay down next to Forrest.

ーーーーーーーーーー

Jenny: "Forrest, I do love you."

ーーーーーーーーーー

Jenny and Forrest lay their bodies on top of each other.

The next morning, Jenny disappears from Forrest again.

She put down the medal of honor Forrest gave to Jenny.

I think Forrest was too bright for Jenny right now.

The only thing she had to 'give' was the warmth of her own body.

Even though she loves Forrest.

Forrest stares into her bed where Jenny is gone.

What does he think?

Forrest kept thinking about it for days.

29. To move forward

Forrest started running again.

As a child, he was finally able to run after the leg braces were removed.

On the battlefield in Vietnam, Jenny tells him to throw away his bravery and just run.

He loved running and kept running even though he was called an 'stupid' person.

Forrest has built himself through running.

ーーーーーーーーーー

Forrest's narration:

"That day, for no particular reason, I decided to go for a little run."

"So I ran to the end of the road, and when I got there, I thought maybe I'd run to the end of town."

"When I got there, I thought maybe I'd just run across Greenbow County."

"I decided to run to the edge of the county."

"Now, thinking since I'd run this far, maybe I'd just run across the great state of Alabama."

"And that's what I did . I ran clear across Alabama."

"No particular reason. I just kept on going."

"I ran clear to the ocean."

"And when I got there, I figured since I'd gone this far, might as well turn around, just keep on going.''

"And when I got to another ocean, I figured since I'd gone this far, I might as well just turn back and keep right on going."

"When I got tired, I slept . When I got hungry, I ate."

"When I had to go...you know...I went."

Old lady at the bus stop: "And so, you just ran."

Forrest: "Yeah."

Forrest's narration:

"I'd think a lot about Mama and Bubba and Lieutenant Dan."

"But most of all, I thought about Jenny. I thought about her a lot."

TV News: "For more than two years, a man named Forrest Gump, a gardener from Greenbow, Alabama, stopping only to sleep, has been running across America. Charles Cooper reports."

TV Narrator: "For the fourth time on his journey across America, Forrest Gump the gardener will cross the Mississippi River again today."

Reporter A: "Why are you running?"

Reporter B: "Are you doing this for world peace?"

Reporter C: "For the homeless?"

Reporter D: "Are you running for women's rights?"

Reporter E: "The environment?"

Forrest's narration: "They couldn't believe somebody would do all that running for no reason."

Reporter F: "Why are you doing this?"

Forrest: "I just felt like running."

Forrest's narration:

"I just felt like runnin'."

"For some reason, what I was doing seemed to make sense to people."

Ordinary person:

"It's you. I can't believe it's really you."

"It was like an alarm went off in my head."

"I said, 'Here's a guy that's got his act together. Here's somebody who has the answer.' I'll follow you anywhere, Mr Gump."

Forrest's narration:

"So I got company."

"And after that, I got more company. And then, even more people joined in."

"Somebody later told me it gave people hope."

"I don't know anything about that, but some of those people asked me if I could help them out.''

Man selling stickers:

"Can you help me?. I'm in the bumper sticker business."

"I need a good slogan, and since you've been so inspirational, I thought you might be able...Whoa, man! You just ran through a big pile of dog shit! "

Forrest: "It happens."

Sticker sales guy: "What, shit?"

Forrest: "Sometimes."

Forrest's narration: "Some years later, I heard that fella did come up with a bumper sticker slogan and made a lot of money off of it."

ーーーーーーーーーー

The 'SHIT HAPPENS' sticker was a popular car sticker in the 1980s.

ーーーーーーーーーー

Forrest's narration: "Another time, I was running along, somebody who'd lost all his money in the t-shirt business, he wanted to put my face on a t-shirt, but he didn't have a camera."

ーーーーーーーーーー

The truck splashes in a puddle and Forrest gets covered in muddy water.

ーーーーーーーーーー

T-shirt seller: "Here, use this one. Nobody likes that color anyway."

Forrest: "Have a nice day!"

Forrest's narration:

"Some years later, I found out that man did have an idea for a t-shirt."

"He made a lot of money off of it."

ーーーーーーーーーー

It's a 'HAVE A NICE DAY' T-shirt with the familiar smiley face.

ーーーーーーーーーー

Forrest's narration:

"Anyway, like I was saying, I had a lot of company."

"Mama always said, 'Put the past behind you before you can move on'."

"And I think that's what my running was all about."

"I had run for three years, two months, 14 days, and 16 hours.''

ーーーーーーーーーー

Forrest suddenly stopped running and said to those running behind him:

ーーーーーーーーーー

Persons running with him: "Quiet. He's going to say something."

Forrest: "I'm pretty tired. I think I'll go home now."

ーーーーーーーーーー

As Forrest walked in the opposite direction to go home, people opened the way for him, just as Moses divided the sea in two.

ーーーーーーーーーー

Persons running with him: "Now what are we supposed to do"

ーーーーーーーーーー

To be Continued…Part5

0 notes

legends-of-time · 8 months

Text

Thorn Bush (Doctor Who Story)

Chapter 36: The Unicorn and the Wasp Part One

Masterlist

1926 AD/CE

Kathy taps her fingers anxiously on the wheel of the car she drives as she pulls up to the Eddison manor. This is a big day, and she can't believe it's already here. Kathy had practically jumped up and down when she had received an invitation from Lady Eddison to the point where she knows Strax would have questioned if they needed the grenades to deal with her. Sadly, the Sontaran butler had passed eleven years ago now, already outliving his expected 25 years.

She had sneakily intercepted herself into Lady Edison's circle as a young widow while the woman was in London, lamenting about how she'd love to spend more time in the country and how her companion (Madame Jenny – the human is in her 60s now and is believable the guardian of a wayward widow) is concerned by her lack of marriage (everyone believes Kathy is around her early/mid-twenties so the fact she's not remarried and it's 1926, is odd).

Her car pulls onto the gravel just as two servants come out, the butler and a footman. Kathy is driving an open-topped tourer. She's always very conscious and aware of driving these kinds of cars due to the lack of safety that comes with them (no seatbelts – looking at you Matthew Crawley) and while she knows she'll survive an accident; Kathy would rather avoid such incidents.

"The lady's baggage, Richard. Step lively." Greeves the Butler instructs.

Kathy climbs out of the car as the footman hurries to grab her things. She is wearing a deep blue flapper dress with a matching bag hanging off her arm. Her light brown hair is neatly pulled up into a bun, with a few curly strands of her hair hanging around her face.

"Good afternoon, Mrs Raedan." (She had chosen to use her first father-in-law's name as her last name. She had rather liked him)

"Hello, Greeves, lovely day we have." She greets.

"Of course." The butler replies. "Lady Eddison requests you make yourself comfortable in your room. Cocktails are being served on the lawn."

"Thank you." Kathy follows Richard as he takes her things to her room. She honestly buzzing with excitement. She's met all of the Doctor's modern companions since Rose that she knows of (and one she hasn't – Dan) except one, Donna Noble, who hopefully already knows her, and so half the work has already been done.

——

She arrives in the garden just as music begins playing from a golden phonograph. A long table decorated with a fancy white tablecloth with an arrangement of food and drinks on top had been placed into the shade of a tree. Different smaller tables were placed around with wicker chairs arranged for sitting in the bright sunlight of the lovely day.

As Kathy approaches where the cocktails are being served, it doesn't take her long to pick out Donna and the Doctor though probably because none of the other guests have arrived and it's just Lady Eddison, Donna has changed into a beaded dress suitable for the period. The Doctor is already The Man in the Brown Suit. The two jump to attention at the sight of Kathy as she approaches. She flashes a quick smile and receives two back.

"Ah, Mrs Raedan, I heard about that strange incident with Houdini." Lady Eddison greets, she offers her hand and the two have a brief shake. "You get into far many incidents young lady. I hope Ms Flint keeps an eye on you."

Kathy presses a polite smile on her face. "When doesn't she?"

Davenport appears beside them. "Drinks, Ma'am?"

Kathy smiles softly at the footman. "I'll have a Clover Club please." The footman nods, leaving and Kathy sidles up to the Doctor and Donna.

"Kathy!" Donna greets happily. Good to know she seems to like her. "What are you doing here?"

Kathy shrugs with a cheeky grin. "Party in the 1920s. How could I resist?"

The two share a chuckle.

The Doctor is frowning. "What did she mean about an incident with Houdini?"

Kathy thinks of her recent run-in with Twelve and Clara involving Houdini and a fake medium. She shrugs. "Spoilers." The Doctor pouts.

Kathy raises an eyebrow at Donna as if to say, 'can you believe this guy?' Donna nods understandingly.

"Your drink, Ma'am." Davenport hands her the cocktail.

"Ah, thank you." Kathy takes a sip before realising she's forgotten something. "Oh! Before I forget. It's nice to meet you, by the way, Donna."

The companion blinks in confusion. "Nice to meet me?" She glances at the Doctor who grimaces and rubs the back of his neck awkwardly.

"I mean, know who you are, but this is the first time I've met you in person." Kathy quickly explains. "Every other time we've met, as far as you've seen, hasn't happened to me. Not yet at least. I'm younger than the other me's you've met if that makes sense. It's nice to finally meet you!" She gives Donna a beaming smile.

After a moment of hesitation, Donna smiles again. "Nice to meet you too, I suppose."

They're then interrupted by the arrival of the other party members.

First, it was the arrival of Colonel Hugh Curbishely, husband to Lady Eddison, being pushed out to the lawn in his wheelchair by his and Lady Eddison's son, Roger Curbishely. Kathy eyes the two, knowing that the Colonel is only faking his illness in the wheelchair.

"My word, you are two super ladies." Roger remarks when he turns to Kathy and Donna.

Kathy raises an unimpressed eyebrow as she shakes his hand while Donna blushes slightly at the comment while she takes her turn to shake his hand. "Oh, I like the cut of your jib. Chin, chin."

The Doctor reaches round them with a hand offered. "Hello. I'm the Doctor."

Roger shakes his hand. "How do you do?"

"Very well."

Davenport appears again next to Roger with another drink. "You're usual, sir?"

"Ah. Thank you, Davenport. Just how I like it." Kathy watches as the two share a look as Roger takes his drink. She feels sorry for them, not able to be open about themselves.

Donna leans over, talking lowly so only Kathy and the Doctor can hear her, breaking Kathy's thoughts, "How come she's an Eddison, but her husband and son are Curbishleys?"

"The Eddison title descends through her. One day Roger will be a lord." The Doctor explains.

"Robina Redmond."

What appears to be a fashionable high-class young woman by the way she presents herself approaches them. But Kathy knows better who this Redmond woman truly is. Though, that is something for the others to discover for themselves later.

Lady Eddison happily and eagerly moves to greet her.

"Reverend Arnold Golightly."

The same went for this next guest. She wishes she could save them all, like Professor Peach who has likely died by now, but sometimes people die and there's nothing you can change about that. But Kathy can try to save some of them at least. She has to...

She doesn't realise her emotions are on her face until the Doctor leans over and whispers, "Why are you frowning?"

Kathy startles. "What? Oh, I'm fine." He frowns disbelievingly. "Really, I am. Anyway, time to meet the guest of honour. You're going to love meeting her."

The Doctor clearly doesn't like her changing the question, but he can't help but ask curiously, "Meeting who?" He raises a brow in interest.

"You'll see." Kathy replies, winking playfully.

"Here she is the lady who needs no introduction." Lady Eddison announces in excitement. She points to the new arrival who walks steadily towards them. It is a woman with short blonde hair, wearing a very beautiful blue dress with golden designs. She smiles, embarrassed at the applause the group gives her.

"Oh, no, no. Please. Don't." The woman says to the large group. "Thank you, Lady Eddison. Honestly, there's no need." The woman comes up closer to the group, looking at Donna first. She holds out her hand politely to introduce herself to the companion. "Agatha Christie."

Donna blinks, dully shaking the woman's hand. The Doctor's jaw drops, stunned by the woman.

"What about her?" Donna asks curiously.

"That's me." She tells Donna.

The companion's face drops in surprise, matching the Doctor's expression. "No!" She exclaims in astonishment. "You're kidding."

"Agatha Christie!" The Doctor says merrily, quickly grabbing the famous author's hand and shaking it enthusiastically. "I was just talking about you the other day. I said, 'I bet she's brilliant.' I'm the Doctor." He lets go of Agatha's hand, nodding to the two others beside him. "This is Kathy and Donna." He then beams, going right back into his delight in meeting the author. "Oh! I love your stuff. What a mind. You fool me every time – well, almost every time. Well, once or twice. Well, once. But it was a good once." He continues to hold his eager grin after he is done rambling. Agatha smiles, amused by the overly excited Doctor.

"It truly is an honoured delight to meet you, ma'am." Kathy says politely to Agatha, shaking the woman's hand as well. Meeting those of the past has always been more exciting for Kathy than anything in the future.

"You make a rather unusual group." Agatha comments.

Lady Eddison comes forward, eagerly pulling the writer away to talk to her. "Mrs Christie, I'm so glad you could come. I'm one of your greatest followers. I've read all six of your books." She flickers her eyes around awkwardly. "Er, is, er, Mister Christie not joining us?"

Agatha's face pinches slightly. "Is he needed? Can't a woman make her own way in the world?"

"Don't give my wife ideas." The Colonel chortles.

Everyone then begins asking Agatha questions on her books, making jokes and laughing heartedly. Kathy gazes cautiously at the laughing Agatha Christie, seeing how strained her smile is and the way she talks with the other guests of the party. Kathy stops paying attention as she sees the Doctor eyeing the newspaper on the Colonel's lap.

"The date is 8th of December 1926." Kathy tells the Doctor quietly. He blinks as he looks at her, raising a brow. Kathy nods carefully as she knows what he is thinking.

Donna scoots closer to them. "What about the date?" She asks.

"It's the day Agatha Christie disappeared." The Doctor mutters to Donna, keeping his voice low so that other party guests do not overhear them. "She'd just discovered her husband was having an affair."

"You'd never think, to look at her, smiling away." Donna replies, her voice hushed.

"Well, she's British and moneyed." The Doctor says, shrugging lightly.

"She carries on." Kathy sighs, eyeing the woman in sympathy.

"Except for this one time." The Doctor continues to explain to Donna in a whisper. "No one knows exactly what happened. She just vanished. Her car will be found tomorrow morning by the side of a lake. Ten days later, Agatha Christie turns up in a hotel in Harrogate. Said she'd lost her memory. She never spoke about the disappearance till the day she died. But whatever it was..."

"It's about to happen." Donna finishes for him.

Sighing heavily, Kathy looks over to the manor of Lady Eddison and her family. "It's happening right now, in fact." She tells the other two as she spots the maid, Miss Chandrakala, running out of the house. The same maid Lady Eddison had sent in earlier to go fetch the last guest, Professor Peach, from the library.

The entire party freezes as Miss Chandrakala yells frantically to everyone, exclaiming there has been a murder in the library. The murder of Professor Peach. Everyone around sort of glances at each other while the Doctor and Kathy run off instantly, Donna hot on their tails, ready to investigate what had occurred. The others of the party soon follow in suite, quick to see if what the housekeeper is frightened of is true.

——

The Doctor entered the small library first, rushing over to the dead body of Professor Peach and placing his glasses on as he began to examine the scene. Kathy and Donna come into the room shortly after, crouching down next to the Doctor to check over the dead man as well. The house butler and Agatha soon arrive to join the trio. All can clearly see the open gash on the Professor's bald head with the pipe that killed him lying just in front of him.

"Bashed on the head. Blunt instrument." The Doctor concludes, glancing at the man's watch. "Watch broke as he fell. Time of death was quarter past four."

He then goes to the study desk of the library, checking over the many papers scattered about on the surface.

"A bit of pipe. Call me Hercules Poirot, but I reckon that's blunt enough." Donna remarks.

In the corner of her eye, Kathy sees Agatha discreetly scoot over to the fireplace of the room and pick up a small piece of paper from the dying fire, hiding it away in her bag without anyone else noticing. She shares a look with the Doctor, who nods at her, letting her know he had seen her as well, which Kathy technically knew anyway.

"Nothing worth killing for in that lot. Dry as dust." The Doctor says.

Donna gets up from the floor, walking over to the Doctor as he continues looking over the papers on the desk. "Hold on. The Body In The Library? I mean, Professor Peach, in the library, with the lead piping?"

"I know, a right game of Cluedo isn't it?" Kathy mumbles, so that only the pair of them can hear her.

They are interrupted by the other guests forcing their way in, letting out exclamations of shock and horror. Kathy largely ignores them but pulls a slight face when Golightly gasps, "Saints preserve us." Another look from the Doctor.

"Someone should call the police." Agatha declares.

"You don't have to. Chief Inspector Smith from Scotland Yard, known as The Doctor." The Doctor says with full authority to the group, holding out the psychic paper for all to see. He then places the paper back into his jacket pocket, giving a quick nod to Donna and Kathy "Miss Noble is the plucky young girl who helps me out, and Mrs Raedan is—"

"His right hand." Kathy explains over him, holding her own stature of authority as she gazes steadily upon all those around. "Basically, his secretary."

"Mrs Christie was right. Go into the sitting room. I will question each of you in turn." The Doctor instructs.

"Come along. Do as the Doctor says. Leave the room undisturbed." Agatha leads the others away.

"The plucky young girl who helps me out?" Donna grumbles as the Doctor goes onto the floor once again.

Kathy winces apologetically. "Sorry Donna, should've cut in sooner."

Donna mutters it's fine but casts a glare in the Doctor's direction as she asks, "Why aren't we phoning the real police?"

"Well, the last thing we want is PC Plod sticking his nose in, especially now I've found this." He scrapes some gunge off the floorboards, scrambling to stand up to show off what he's found to Kathy and Donna. "Morphic residue."

"Morphic? Doesn't sound very 1926." Donna comments.

"Someone's genetically re-encoded." Kathy explains. "One of that lot is a murderous alien in human form."

"Any hints on who it is, Kathy?" The Doctor asks.

"I know what its alien form looks like." Kathy replies.

"And what does it look like?"

"A giant wasp."

Donna's eyes bulge out.

"When you say giant wasp," the Doctor begins, "what do you mean?"

"I mean a wasp the size of a grown man." Kathy says calmly.

"How can a wasp get that big?!" Donna exclaims.

"It's not really a wasp Donna." Kathy explains. "Just an alien that looks a whole lot like one."

"This is all mad. All of it. I mean think about it." Donna breathes. "There's a murder, a mystery, an alien, and Agatha Christie."

The Doctor shrugs. "So? Happens to us all the time." He sniffs the residue and then offers it for the other two to smell but they both quickly lean back.

"No, but isn't that a bit weird?" Donna continues, undeterred. "Agatha Christie didn't walk around surrounded by murders. Not really. I mean, that's like meeting Charles Dickens and he's surrounded by ghosts at Christmas."

"Or Shakespeare surrounded by witches. It happens sometimes..." Kathy trails off and notices the Doctor sticking out his tongue to the sample. She pokes him. "Just use the Sonic. You have it for a reason!"

The Doctor stops midway, looks Kathy in the eye, and then licks the residue.

Kathy sighs. "Idiot."

"Oh, come on!" Donna scoffs, still hyper-focused on the ridiculousness of the situation. "It's not like we could drive across the country and find Enid Blyton having tea with Noddy. Could we? Noddy's not real. Is he? Tell me there's no Noddy."

The Doctor places his hands on her shoulders and calmly states, "There's no Noddy." He then moves to leave the room.

"Never say never." Kathy comments as she follows with Donna behind her.

The Doctor stops and turns to her. "Is that a spoiler?"

Kathy lets out an amused huff and rolls her eyes fondly. "No, well no, as far as I'm aware."

Stephen Fry is canon in this world and then appeared in the show playing a different character so, 'never say never'.

"Next thing you know, you'll be telling me it's like Murder On The Orient Express, and they all did it." Donna continues to natter as they step into the hall.

"Murder on the Orient Express?" Agatha suddenly questions, stepping out of an enclave. Kathy jumps slightly at her sudden appearance, having forgotten that happens. She can't remember everything.

"Ooo, yeah. One of your best." Donna compliments.

"But not yet." The Doctor warns.

"Marvellous idea, though." Agatha remarks.

"Yeah. Tell you what. Copyright Donna Noble, okay?"

Kathy presses her lips together so she doesn't laugh.

"Anyway. Agatha, Kathy and I will question the suspects. Donna, you search the bedrooms. Look for clues. Any more residue. You'll need this." The Doctor brings out a large magnifying glass from his pocket. Casual.

Donna gives Kathy a 'is he serious?' look to which she shrugs. "Is that for real?" The companion voices.

"Go on. You're ever so plucky."

Donna takes the magnifying glass and goes upstairs.

The Doctor turns to Agatha with a beaming smile and basically bounces on the balls of his feet. "Right then. Solving a murder mystery with Agatha Christie. Brilliant."

Agatha glares at him. "How like a man to have fun while there's disaster all around him."

——

The Doctor is conducting individual interviews, pacing as Agatha takes notes from where she sits close to the people they question while Kathy stays in the back, in the shadows and out of the way, gazing upon each person carefully as they are asked where they had been, what they had been doing and so forth. Each giving very brief statements as to what they had been up to. And each one, Kathy gives the Doctor a message on what is truly going on.

First, there was the Reverend Golightly.

"He's telling the truth. For the most part, anyway." She doesn't give away anything more than that as she knows it would be spoilers.

Then in comes Roger.

"He was strolling with Davenport," Kathy responds after Roger has left. "Cute couple."

The so-called Robina Redmond is next.

"Well... she's not lying there. She was preparing herself and she is very excited about being here." Kathy says lightly, shrugging her shoulders when seeing the raised brow of the Doctor. "You'll understand why she's excited soon enough."

Then it is the turn of the Colonel.

"He's lying. He was actually looking through some... ah... interesting pictures." Kathy snickers within the Doctor's mind as she recalls what the Colonel was looking through. "Let's just say, it has nothing to do with military life. But he's harmless all the same."

"Right." The Doctor nods, dismissing the Colonel right after this. Though, not before glancing at Kathy curiously. Probably wondering what the Colonel had been looking through that would make her snicker like that.

Next in is Lady Eddison.

"She didn't have tea per say. But she was in the Blue room all by herself. Just lounging as she had said." Kathy tells the Doctor.

"Okay. Cross her off the list, then." The Doctor noted in a mumble. His brows furrowed. "Any other hints you want to share?"

"Sorry, no." Kathy replies, shaking her head in apology for not being of much more help.

The Doctor hummed, stuffing his hands into his pockets in thought. "Well, I suppose—"

"Excuse me. But are we simply going to sit here and stare at each other for the rest of the night?" Agatha suddenly speaks up, earning the attention of the two. She stares at them curiously, seeming at a loss as to why exactly both are nodding and humming towards each other. As if having a private conversation of sorts.

"Right. Sorry." The Doctor says, beginning to pace in thought. Agatha joins him in pacing as she too begins to ponder deeply upon what they have learned from the questioning.

"No alibis for any of them." Agatha states out loud in thought. "The secret adversary remains hidden. We must look for a motive. Use ze little grey cells."

The Doctor turns to look at Agatha, nodding in agreement as he smiles at the phrase she has used. "Oh, yes. 'Little grey cells', good old Poirot." He remarks as he walks over to the chair across from where the females are, sitting down with a flop. He lays his hands on his stomach as he leans back and stares up at the ceiling in remembrance. "You know, I've been to Belgium. Yeah. I remember. I was deep in the Ardennes, trying to find Charlemagne. He'd been kidnapped by an insane computer..." The rest of his words trail off he as is lost deep in thought to the past adventure he had.

Kathy rolls her eyes as he loses focus on their current predicament. Walking over to him and giving him a quick slap on the back of the head.

The Doctor jerks. "Ow! What was that for?" He pouts, rubbing the back of his head.

"Focus." Kathy retorts.

"Charlemagne lived centuries ago." Agatha says.

"I've got a very good memory." The Doctor shrugs casually.

"For such an experienced detective, you missed a big clue."

Kathy raises an eyebrow. "What, that bit of paper you nicked out the fire?"

Agatha gawps. "You were looking the other way."

Kathy shrugs.

Agatha smirks slightly before bringing out the charred fragment, Kathy and the Doctor crowding around her. "This is all that was left."

"What's that first letter? N or M?" The Doctor questions.

"It's an M. The word is maiden." Agatha deduces.

"Maiden!" The Doctor exclaims as though he suddenly knows exactly what he has been looking for. His sudden outburst causes Agatha to jump slightly though Kathy is unfazed. Then the Doctor seems to realise that he has no clue what Maiden means even through his exclamation. "What does that mean?"

"Could mean Maiden name." Kathy comments casually, shrugging somewhat. She glances at Agatha and the Doctor, seeing how the woman shakes her head lightly from this idea while the Doctor hums as he stares at the ceiling in thought. Sighing, Kathy then looks at the doorway. "We should probably go check up on Donna."

"Yes, we should. Miss Noble might have found something by now." Agatha agrees, beginning to make her way towards the door. They all are startled when they hear the screaming of Donna. The woman sounds frantic as she shouts for the Doctor and Kathy.

——

The Doctor, Kathy and Agatha reach the upstairs corridor just as there's a loud crashing sound to find Donna panting heavily and frantically by a closed door.

"I found the giant wasp! It's huge!" Donna stage whispers.

"Where?" The Doctor demands to know.

Agatha looks at him in disbelief. "It's only a silly little insect."

"When I say giant, I don't mean big, I mean flipping enormous!" The companion cries, turning to the door behind her. "Look at its sting." A giant wasp sting juts through the wooden door.

They quickly open the door to reveal an empty room. The group walk in, observing the scene of the old dusty window being smashed in from the outside. Glass is scattered around everywhere on the wooden floor of the room. Everything within has a fine layer of dust on it. With cobwebs attached to many chairs, lamps, and desks. A raggedy teddy bear sits on the bed in the middle of the room. A time capsule.

With quick work, the Doctor takes a few samples from the stinger, scooping up some gunk and into a test tube with a pencil.

"Giant wasp. Well, tons of amorphous insectivorous lifeforms, but none in this galactic vector." The Doctor observes.

Agatha looks completely baffled. "I think I understood some of those words. Enough to know that you're completely potty."

"Lost its sting, though. That makes it defenceless." Donna argues.

Kathy winces. "Donna, I have some awful news it's able to grow a new one."

"Can we return to sanity?" Agatha says, frustrated by their rambling. "There are no such things as giant wasps."

"Exactly." The Doctor nods as if agreeing. Though, in the end, he is merely rambling on more. "So, the question is, what's it doing here?"

——

The next victim ended up being poor Miss Chandrakala. The housekeeper had been outside when it occurred. The giant wasp pushed over a large gargoyle statue, crushing the woman to death. The housekeeper's final words, 'the poor little child.' Then, there had been a brief chase of the gigantic wasp through the house before they ended up losing track of it. It had converted to human form once more, blending in with the rest of the people in the house.

Upon the news of what happened to Miss Chandrakala, all the people within were stunned beyond belief by the occurrence of another murder. Lady Eddison was distraught, sobbing over the loss of her dear old friend. After some speculation, the group of people began turning to Agatha. This became too much for Agatha and she ended up leaving after they had all dispersed into their rooms once more. Donna followed after her, ready to comfort the writer. Kathy had left them to it.

The Doctor and Kathy end up lounging on cushioned chairs after the results from the yellow substance come back.

"Who do you think it could be?" He wonders aloud as he gazes up at the ceiling.

"I don't know." Kathy shrugs, not intending on letting out any more spoilers for the day.

"Of course, you know. You just can't tell me 'cause it's spoilers." The Doctor counters, giving her a knowing look.

Kathy smiles in apology. "We all have our spoilers and secrets. Some best left in the dark until they're ready to be revealed."

"Fiiinnnee." The Doctor whines. He pouts before turning back to Kathy, changing the subject. "How's good old Captain Jack Harkness?" He asks. She looks confused. "He told me you kept an eye on him before he met me again." His expression goes dark at that. Likely remembering The Year That Never Was. Kathy shudders slightly.

Kathy shakes it off and raises an amused eyebrow. "Jack's fine. Mad at you but fine."

The Doctor smirks. "Good Old Jack."

"Look what we found!" Comes Donna's sharp cry.

Both jump in their seats, startled when Agatha and Donna come rushing into the sitting room. Donna holds up a small, black case, waving it in the air. The Doctor sits on the edge of his seat, as Donna and Agatha sit across from him and Kathy, setting the case down on a small table in front of them. The Doctor opens the case. It is full of lock-picking tools laid neatly inside. All are lined up and ready for use.

"Ooh. Someone came here tooled up." The Doctor notes as he examines the tools. "The sort of stuff a thief would use."

"The Unicorn, he's here!" Agatha concludes with a start.

"The Unicorn and the wasp." The Doctor mutters quietly.

Kathy snorts suddenly, making everyone look at her curiously in her strange humour. She clears her throat in embarrassment. "Sorry. Don't mind me. Inside joke." She waves a hand dismissively.

She glances over her shoulder when the door to the sitting room opens. Greeves walks in with a tray of drinks, coming up to the table to sit them down for the group to have. The butler leaves after each of them grabs their drinks, nodding in respect to them as he dismisses himself.

"What about the science stuff?" Donna questions. "What did you find?"

The Doctor nods, making a small hum after he takes a quick sip of his drink. He takes out the vial of the yellow substance, holding it up for them all to see. "Vespiform sting. Vespiforms have got hives in the Silfrax galaxy."

"Very not 1926." Kathy comments.

Agatha shakes her head in disbelief. "Again, you talk like Edward Lear."

"But for some reason, this one's behaving like a character in one of your books." The Doctor muses.

Donna turns to the author. "Come on, Agatha. What would Miss Marple do? She'd have overheard something vital by now, because the murderer thinks she's just a harmless old lady."

"Clever idea. Miss Marple? Who writes those?" Agatha questions curiously.

"Er, copyright Donna Noble. Add it to the list." Donna quips.

Kathy chuckles quietly, finding it funny how often Donna references Agatha's later works. Glancing over at the Doctor, blinking in surprise, she raises a brow at how the Doctor sits in his chair. Completely motionless as his eyes are staring widely at nothing in particular. Shifting her eyes away from him, she looks at his drink, seeing how it is half full now. Her eyes whip back onto him, widening in fright and horror as she realises what had happened.

"Kathy, Donna." The Doctor says carefully.

"Okay. We could spilt the copyright." Donna jokes.

"No. Something's inhibiting my enzymes." The Doctor states. His body jolted abruptly, nearly doubling up in pain. He grits his teeth. "Argh! I've been poisoned."

"Oh god, Doctor, I'm so sorry! I'd forgotten!" Kathy cries in dismay, jumping from her seat and rushing to the shaking Doctor's side. He goes through more convulsions as he grips the arms of his chair with shaking fists. Kathy glares at the drink beside him, hitting it off the table. "Damn cyanide!"

"How do you know he was poisoned with cyanide?" Agatha questions as she and Donna get up quickly from their chairs, hurriedly going over to the Doctor's side.

"Trust me, I just know things." Kathy explains as she yanks the Doctor towards the door. She has to remind herself that there is a way around this.

——

A/N: Part Two is coming!!

Please leave comments on how you're enjoying this story and what you think.

#doctor who

0 notes

ashestoashesjc · 5 years

Text

Bad Witches (0.3)

Some towns sleep more than they’d care to admit. They claim to be the town that never does, but they sleep. They bustle until the wee hours when even the traffic lights must catch shut eye. (This is the leading cause of late night car accidents, in fact). But not in Riverwake. No matter the hour, Riverwake is alive and in motion. At the peak of dawn, the rumble of mechanized street cleaners is something of an alarm: A new day is here. The only challenge is survival. The road is now adequately shiny.

On a day this beautiful, a person would be mad to waste even a second of it inside. This is why when the coven meets at their favorite restaurant, Giorgio's, for cocktails and gossip, they ask for outdoor seating, beneath a veil of dark gray umbrellas.

After the waiter brings around the first tray of flutes, Bev flags him down and whispers in his ear. When he returns, he has a pitcher filled to the brim with a hazy, dim yellow. He places it at the center of the table and walks off to attend to other diners.

Shrugging, Bev says, "Save him some trips."

During a third round of mimosas, Kate off-handedly mentions her father-in-law and his rocky relationship with his son, but that he thinks gifting Dan membership to their familial country club is effective enough as tension relief. Dan's typically too busy to take advantage of it, she says.

"But you still want to," says Bev, drinking from her orange-tinted glass.

"I didn't say that," says Kate.

"You didn't have to," Bev says, swatting at the air, "Does anyone else hear that buzzing? What is that? Do you think a WASP snuck in?" The other witches attempt to stifle their giggles.

Turning bright red, Kate leans back into her seat, clutching at her glass and bringing it closer to her face so as to slightly cloud the next words she mutters, "I can invite guests, by the by."

The witches' ears perk up.

"You know, I don't think I've ever been to a country club," Matt says, "The wealthy have historically neglected basic hand-washing techniques. Seems like a petri dish, but in a higher tax bracket.”

"I'm from the country. And I've been to a club. Does that count?" Haley asks, still nursing her first mimosa.

"What should we wear?" Bev asks.

Kate sets her glass down to refill it from the orange pitcher, "Dress for spring."

So, they do. The next morning, they are all casual shorts and solid-colored polos and white visors. Only, it's a month away from the dead of winter and it's the middle of Massachusetts. Bev, Matt, and Haley stand outside of the given address and, with their miserable shaking, resemble a group of very posh street urchins.

Kate arrives in a cozy-looking fur-lined parka and upon seeing the other witches' bewildered expressions, snuggles affectionately into the mink hood, "Teach you to mock me."

The other witches follow Kate into the almost intimidatingly large, red-bricked building. What are presumably wings stretch nearly a kilometer in each direction.

"One of you couldn't have ch-checked the weather before leaving the house?" Bev admonishes, one shiver away from legally qualifying as an icicle.

"T-throwing a lot of stones in that g-glass igloo, aren't you?" Haley asks.

The combination of central circulated heating and at least two fireplaces (one in the den closest to the club's entrance; one in the more formal of the two dining areas) nearly melts the witches as they linger with Kate at the front desk.

"Okay, we're approved," Kate says, shaking hands with the attendant behind the desk, "Just don't touch anything."

"Damn. There goes my Grand Theft Itinerary," says Bev.

Looking at her sternly, Kate says, "Don't even joke about that. They will absolutely kick us out."

The witches huddle at the end of the entrance hall, dissecting the list of offered activities. Bev is interested in exactly none of them, but does wish to examine their stock of spirits. Matt begins spraying himself with hand sanitizer the moment he notices how many of the items have a "Group Activity" label.

A woman in a calf-length Houndstooth coat walks past the group but stops to gaze at Kate's jacket, fawning over its charm and subtle glamour. She asks if Kate also bought her coat from Nordstrom. She then asks if Kate plans to play in a tennis match later.

Kate happily confirms that, yes, she will be playing. They chat for a little longer and Kate is still smiling when the woman bids her farewell and walks further into the club's interior.

"How are you going to play?" Matt asks, pointing to the tennis poster pinned to the cork bulletin board at the lobby entrance, "It's Doubles and three of us will likely solidify if we venture outside."

"Oh, we're still playing tennis. Do you know how much I had to bribe the babysitter to come on such short notice?" asks Kate, "They have a heated indoor court," she says, taking off her coat to reveal a sensible, pale beige skirt and thin, rust red pullover.

"Oh, they're fancy fancy," says Haley.

Kate finds the sports center in the left wing, guided by the rambunctious sound of middle aged aerobics. It is a vast gymnasium filled with varied exercise equipment and a bounty of helpful regimens: elliptical trainers, stair masters, Homeless Person Avoidance Training, medicine balls, etc. There's even a rock climbing wall mounted in the back. There are no cables attached to it for fear that people may actually wish to use it, but it has its scenic benefits. She then sees the tennis court, a green square girded with a chain link fence. She spies the sign-up sheet on a plastic folding table at the entrance and begins scrawling her name.

As she flourishes the Barston-ending 'n' and admires her penmanship, an unexpected voice takes her by surprise.

"You're in the way," says the voice and Kate notices that it belongs to the robust, older gentleman looming behind her. He is accompanied by a smaller, leaner fellow and together they look like a before and after advert for malnutrition.

Kate nearly leaps out of the man's direction when she notices her folly. "Sorry! I wasn't paying attention."

"Never seen you here before," says the shorter, wheat blond man.

"Yes, I'm a new--" begins Kate, holding out her hand in anticipation of a handshake.

"Who's your husband?" interrupts the other man, a gray halo of hair situated on the perimeter of his scalp.

"I'm not sure how--" starts Kate, slowly lowering her hand.

"That's how you got in, right?" he asks as he bends down to add his own name to the roster, "Bring the 'Girls' for a 'Fun Weekend' at the country club and then fuck off to whichever Wellness Spa you crawled out of?"

"That's--" Kate tries to interject.

"We promise not to beat you too badly later, okay?" the blond interrupts as he saunters off, followed shortly by his friend.

She is left standing alone at the front of the sports center, not entirely sure she has correctly interpreted the preceding events. In her mind, she loops through their meeting again and again, wondering what she did wrong. When she does realize that she, in fact, ‘Just Got Dunked On’, grim is not the right word to describe the aura she emanates. It's pretty close, though.

Kate staggers into the common area and, seeing the rest of her coven lying haphazardly across an island of recliners, plops into one of the vacant chairs. Her entire demeanor is a haggard sigh.

Trading concerned looks, the witches aren't sure who should handle this. They play "Rock, Paper, Sigils" while Kate slumps further into the padded leather. The agreed upon worst candidate for helping someone through distress is also apparently really bad at games of chance because when she loses, Bev swears under her breath.

Bev very tepidly strokes Kate's back and whispers, "Now, now. Emotions are..." she gulps, "Perfectly normal. I have them all the time." She retches.

Taking Kate's hand, Matt asks, "What happened?"

A full body sigh later and Kate appears to have summoned the drive to retell the tale. By the time she's through, the witches bear the expressions of those personally wronged. How dare anyone make fun of Kate? And not even behind her back like a decent person. WASPS have feelings, too.

"You should've led with that," says Bev, cracking her knuckles, "I'll kill them."

Matt nods, "I don't know about getting someone else's blood on me, but yes, murder seems in order."

Haley can't believe what she just heard. She really can't. She stopped listening halfway through to stare at someone she thought might be her Little League coach. But why would they be here, ten states away in this country club common area? It just doesn't make sen-- Oh, no, that's someone else, nevermind. Oh, god, now everyone's looking at her. Make something up, make something up.

"Like a flock of crows in V-formation," says Haley. Nailed it.

"You guys... you have no idea how much this means to me," says Kate, a welling in her eyes, "I know with you by my side, Bev, we can--"

"Oh, yeah, no, I don't want to play," Bev corrects.

Clearly disappointed, Kate's face sobers a little, but she looks to Matt with hope.

"Sorry, me either. I didn't mean to mislead you," says Matt, sincerely apologetic.

Kate feels as though the dinghy she just acquired footing in has capsized beneath her.

Haley smiles.

Kate looks to her nervously, but the smile only widens. "Have... you ever actually played tennis?" Kate asks.

"Sure, I played a little at home," Haley says. Kate sighs.

"Of course, we had wooden rackets and the strings were made from goat guts, but how different could it be?" Haley asks. Kate sighs again and internally resigns to her fate, but still intends on having a very fun, very non-competitive time.

On the court, shortly before their starting match, Haley tests the weight of the carbon fiber racket. She tosses it from hand to hand and gives a few practice swats. Once, she sends the racket flying, leaving her to run to the middle of the court and retrieve it.

Their first few matches - one with a couple from Denver and the other with the woman they encountered in the lobby and her "chiropractor" who is definitely only half her age because it helps to be young and limber in his profession. Definitely - are nothing to write home about. Haley's home, in particular, is where you should not be writing to. Because they would not be very impressed with her performance. But after getting used to how light this inferior plastic racket is, the aerodynamics of its slender frame, the whistle of its whip through the air, she feels a touch more comfortable.

This comfort is promptly squished like a windshield mosquito when their next opponents enter the fence. Kate's heart falls when she recognizes the sheen of one man's head and the smarm on the other's lips, but her face is unflinching steel.

"Didn't think you'd still be here," the blond says, his eyes a sneer.

The walking comb over assumes his place across the court and, beginning to stretch, says, "They wanted to lose to real men. I don't blame 'em."

Haley exhales. The match begins.

For the first set, the court is a frenzy of movement. Rhythmic thwacking echoes across the gymnasium. The squeaking of sneakers, the breathy grunts upon each impact, the flicked beads of sweat as they dart to strike the racket. All four are giving it their all.

But Kate and Haley are just too accurate. Too fast. Too relentless in their fury.

Nearing the end of their third set, Kate and Haley have dominated the game, easily leading over their opponents' hefty score of one. What was only meant to be a playful diversion sees the girls one favoring play away from taking the whole kit 'n' caboodle. Reigning victorious. But, like, in a fun, non-competitive way.

This is what it all comes down to.

"They would be good at this," huffs the gray-haired man to his partner, "Chicks and tennis." He serves the ball, and Haley, in her distraction, swings and misses. A green blur zips by her head.

The gray-haired man chuckles, "I think that's our point."

"One of them even looks like Serena," his blond partner wheezes hoarsely. They burst into ill-concealed snickers.

"One more round?" Kate asks, bouncing a tennis ball.

"One more round," Haley concurs.

They trade the tennis ball back and forth with their opponents, the net flapping with every pass. For a few tosses, they are very light swings, measured and contained. But in one of her connections with the ball, Kate applies a considerable amount more force to the racket. The tennis ball responds with equal vigor, shooting from her racket's wired face and careening toward the other side of the court.

But it never hits either of the men's rackets. Or makes contact with the ground. It simply floats and whirls at a standstill just past the net.

No one moves a muscle.

The silent stillness of the moment is broken when the blond man appears to muster the confidence to approach the green rotation. He seems to have descended from glaciers with the time it takes him to close the gap. Mere inches away, he stares up at the tennis ball in the exact way that you're not supposed to stare at the sun.

He lifts his hand and reaches slowly upward with an extended finger.

The ball, still in a rapid spin, yet frozen in mid-air, comes undone and pelts the blond directly between the eyes. He goes to the ground and rolls onto his back, his scream slightly muffled by the hands now covering his face.

Exclaiming his name, the gray-haired man runs over to kneel and assist his partner.

Focused on tending to his friend, he is blissfully unaware when, under Haley's intense stare, his shoestrings loosen and then intertwine, lacing together.

"I think that's our point," says Haley.

The man clambers to a stand and starts off toward her with a warning, huffy "Why, you little..." before tripping and spilling to the ground like a freshly slingshotted Goliath.

The blond, a red burn at the center of his face, goes to help him, but his shorts sink quickly to his feet and he falls in a tangle to the green mat.

"That's set," says Kate.

"And match," says Haley.

They grasp hands in a high five and make their way to the fenced door.

As they exit the court, Haley shouts back to the groaning men, "And I would love to look like Serena! She's a goddamn Amazon!" Even after they've exited, Haley can still be heard shouting, "An Amazon!"

They've made it halfway into the main house when they run into Matt just outside of the kitchen, wearing a black apron, stamped with the country club's logo.

"Why are you--?" Haley begins before Matt raises a hand and cuts her off with a sharp breath.

"I went to the restaurant to sample their Chateaubriand," he says, pulling the apron strings over his head, "But someone mistook me for a waiter and one thing led to another, and I report for duty at 9 am."

Slinking down the hall to join them, Bev says, "That's really going to confuse your students."

"Where have you been?" Kate asks.

"That's what I wanted to talk to you guys about," she says.

Occasionally looking over her shoulder to ensure she's not being followed by any of the club's staff, Bev leads the coven to the rear section of the expansive building. Despite the recently watered ficuses, it doesn't appear as though this area of the club receives much visitation.

Taking another cursory look, Bev waves the witches into a room and closes the door behind her. Once she flicks the light on, an old ballroom comes into focus. The dusty, white grand piano, tucked in the room's corner, has uneven keys. The floor is cedar coated in a thoroughly scuffed varnish.

At the center of the room is a freshly painted and ornamented circle, surrounded in thick, off-white candles.

"You've been busy," Kate says.

"Since we got here, I've sensed a mass of souls, trapped just beneath the floorboards," says Bev.

"I felt it, too," says Matt, "I suspected it was just the unease that comes with being in a country club."

"There's that, too," Bev says.

Bev stomps on the floor and a chorus of weak groans ekes up, "That's at least 30? Maybe 40 unhappy ghosts." She locks eyes with Kate, hesitates for a moment, and says, "We have to do something."

Kate, all out of sighs for the day, brings her hands together and lets them go with a deep breath. "Okay," she says, "What do we do?"

There's no boom box available to blast "Wannabe" while they work, so their preparation lacks a distinct Spice, but they each have their jobs and they each complete them with an expected diminished enthusiasm.

Once Kate's finished lighting the candles, Haley flips the light switch and they take their positions.

Because it was her idea, Bev heads the ritual, and thus initiates the throaty, guttural chanting. As she nears the end, like a musical round, another witch starts from the beginning. And the cycle continues until, thrumming like a locust swarm, the coven is in overlapping cacophony.

As their chanting increases in volume and an impossible wind whips their hair to and fro, the candle flames grow into angry blazes. And in an instant, they extinguish.

And the room goes dark.

Then, suddenly, light returns as a host of faint, blue-white specters encircle the witches. As a few seconds pass and they regain more human forms, a great variety of age among them, the "Leader" of the group, a weathered man in an eagle feather-adorned headdress, nods to the coven. One by one, their forms dissipate. Soon, they've all faded, leaving one little girl, clutching a small toy bunny. She waves at the witches and too disappears.

The candles flicker back to life.

"So good of you to release them," Kate says, laying her hand on Bev's shoulder, "The afterlife will be kind to them."

"Right. Release," Bev says, tapping Kate's hand.

From outside of the ballroom there comes a scream. Looking a smirking Bev in the eyes, Kate pulls her hand away and makes for the door.

The chaos encapsulating the country club can be heard in its full intensity the moment Kate cracks the door open.

It's difficult to decipher exactly what is transpiring: a typhoon of well-clothed, well-fed patrons bounds in every direction. They wail and beg and stumble over each other, flown after by a roaring cavalcade of translucent figures.

The witches watch as the little girl who thanked them earlier flies through the bottom of a couple's table and into their roasted duck, chasing them with scornful, flailing drumettes as they scream for mercy.

Kate's face gets in the way of her palm.

"You know, I saw a hand sanitizer dispenser in the bathroom," says Matt, "Maybe this place isn't so bad after all."

#i'm sure i'll catch a bunch of typos and things i want to edit later #but here's snippet 3 #Bad Witches

316 notes · View notes

chiseler · 4 years

Text

3000 Beatniks Riot

Half a century before Occupy Wall Street, young protesters occupied Greenwich Village's Washington Square Park. Like OWS, they ended up clashing with the police. Unlike OWS so far, their protest produced a small but practical and lasting change.

In the spring of 1961, the Washington Square Association, a community group of homeowners around the square, appealed to New York City's Department of Parks and Recreation to do something about the hundreds of "roving troubadours and their followers" playing music around the square's turned-off fountain on Sunday afternoons. They were mostly college kids, playing guitars and banjos and singing folk songs. The practice had started in the post-war years, when Woody Guthrie and Pete Seeger planted the seeds of the folk musical revival in the Village. By 1961 it had grown enough that both the police and the neighbors found the "troubadours" and the tourists they attracted a nuisance. In his posthumously-published memoir, Dave Van Ronk recalls that there were various cliques in the park: a Zionist group singing and dancing "Hava Nagila," Stalinists, bluegrass fans, folk traditionalists. Black journalist John A. Williams reported that the locals' complaints were not really musical but social: "In the ensuing meetings with city officials, it became apparent that what was opposed was not so much folk singing as the increasing presence of mixed couples in the area, mostly Negro men and white women." In the late 1950s the parks commission began issuing permits to limit the number of musicians, allowing them to "sing and play from two until five as long as they had no drums," Van Ronk writes. This "kept out the bongo players. The Village had bongo players up the wazoo... and we hated them. So that was some consolation." He doesn't mention that those bongo-players were very often black. This racial aspect had an old historical precedent in Greenwich Village. In 1819, white residents of the area complained "of being much annoyed by certain persons of color practising as Musician with Drums and other instruments through the Village."

In 1961 the parks commissioner responded to the complaints by refusing to issue any permits at all. Izzy Young of the Folklore Center and others organized a peaceful protest demonstration. On Sunday, April 9, 1961, a few hundred young people gathered, attracting a few hundred more spectators. Among the latter was eighteen-year-old Dan Drasin, a mild-mannered kid who liked to hang out in the park. He brought one of the big, boxy film cameras of the era and documented the afternoon in a short black-and-white film, Sunday. The film shows clean-cut college and high school kids, many of the girls in Jackie O hairdos and heels, many of the boys looking like the young Allen Ginsbergs with serious, sensitive, owlish faces behind heavy black-framed glasses. They carry hand-written placards and cardboard guitars and argue with the dozens of beefy, florid-faced cops who've shown up. Izzy Young, also bespectacled and in jacket and tie, lectures the cops about the constitutional right to make music as the kids sit in a circle in the dry fountain and sing "This Land Is Your Land" and "The Star-Spangled Banner." As protests go it all looks low-key and polite. Then paddy wagons arrive and the cops haul off one nebbishy young man cradling an autoharp, pushing him into a prowl car. According to Drasin, most of the singers and musicians had left the park, leaving the few hundred spectators loitering around the fountain, when the cops' tempers finally boiled over. They wade into the crowd, shoving boys and girls to the ground, mauling them, dragging a handful into the paddy wagons. Reportedly they knocked some heads with their clubs, although it's not shown in the film. The whole event, Drasin says, lasted maybe two hours.

The next day, the New York Daily Mirror, the conservative Hearst tabloid, ran a giant war-is-over front page headline, "3000 BEATNIKS RIOT IN VILLAGE." Other local papers followed suit. That week's Voice scoffed at the Mirror's "hysterical" coverage, wondering if there were three thousand beatniks in the entire country that Sunday, let alone in Washington Square Park. By May, the outrage caused by the cops' overreaction forced the city to back down and issue permits, a practice that continues to this day.

Among the protesters hauled off that day was the Village character H. L. "Doc" Humes, identified in the Mirror as a "scofflaw" and the "mob leader." Humes was a gregarious polymath, a novelist and raconteur, co-founder of The Paris Review, designer of cheap housing made from old newspapers, director of a lost film updating the Don Quixote story as Don Peyote, LSD pioneer with Timothy Leary, later helper to Norman Mailer when he ran for mayor in 1969, later still a paranoid drug casualty who believed UFOs, CIA and the Pope in Rome were out to get him. He would not have been a stranger to the cops in the park that day. Just a few months earlier, he'd had a very public spat with Police Commissioner Stephen Kennedy.

It started in October 1960, when cops shut down a performance by Lord Buckley at the Jazz Gallery in the East Village. Lord Buckley was a stately man with sleek gray hair and a pointy Daliesque mustache, who often performed in a tux and orated in a plummy, faux-British voice, seeming every bit the vaudeville and burlesque master of ceremonies he once was. But what came out of his mouth was pure hepcat jive he'd learned from the jazz musicians and pot-smokers with whom he'd associated since the 1930s. In the 1950s he started to recast biblical stories, historical texts like the Gettysburg Address, and Shakespeare in White Negro proto-rap: "Hipsters, flipsters and finger-poppin' daddies, knock me your lobes. I came here to lay Caesar out, not to hip you to him." It sounds like novelty schtick today, but in Eisenhower's America there was something inherently subversive about a man who looked like the maitre d' at a fancy restaurant jiving like a viper. "His Royal Hipness" had a lot of fans and friends downtown, where he performed and hung out whenever he was in New York.

The cops halted Buckley's gig because of a problem with his cabaret card. Since 1941, anyone who worked in a New York City nightclub, from performers to the hat check girl and the busboys, had to get fingerprinted and carry a picture ID card. If you had any police record, you couldn't have a card, which meant you couldn't work. It was intended to weed the Mob out of the nightclub business, but it could be disastrous for performers. Billie Holiday, Thelonious Monk and Charlie Parker all had their cards yanked for drug violations; Lenny Bruce lost his because of an obscenity conviction; exotic dancer Sally Rand, refused a card in 1947 because the cops thought her fan dance too risqué, took the NYPD to court over it and won. Buckley lost his because he'd failed to report a pot bust that went back to the 1940s. Without the card, he couldn't perform in New York City, including a scheduled appearance on his old friend Ed Sullivan's tv show (they'd toured together with the USO during the war).

Despondent, Buckley called his pal Humes. Humes talked his Paris Review friend George Plimpton into letting Buckley give a little performance at a party in his Upper East Side apartment, with the idea that Plimpton's influential crowd might help him get Buckley's card reinstated. With Village jazzman David Amram at the piano, Buckley went into his schtick. The response was cool. Plimpton's literary swells had come to sip cocktails and talk about themselves, not listen to Village-y jazzbo jive. Buckley the old vaudevillian worked hard to win them over, pulling out bit after bit, overstaying his unwelcome. As the crowd grew increasingly bored and angry, Norman Mailer started heckling. Amram remembers that Buckley finally gave up, then "came over to the piano and whispered in my ear, 'Let's split and get out of here, man.'"

It turned out to be Lord Buckley's farewell performance. He died of a stroke shortly afterwards, at the age of fifty-four. Art D'Lugoff offered the use of the Village Gate for a memorial service, at which Ornette Coleman and Dizzy Gillespie played for a large crowd of Buckley's friends and admirers. He was laid to out at the Frank E. Campbell Funeral Chapel on the Upper East Side, New York's funeral home to the stars. (Rudolph Valentino, John Lennon, Jackie Onassis, Nikola Tesla, James Cagney, Igor Stravinsky, Norman Mailer, Heath Ledger, Judy Garland and Candy Darling were all laid out there.)

Humes, Mailer, Amram and others then started a public campaign to end the cabaret card system. Humes charged that police harassment had killed Buckley, and claimed that if Buckley had only slipped the right cop a hundred bucks the whole thing would have been settled under the table. That enraged Commissioner Kennedy, who retaliated by tossing Humes in jail for unpaid parking tickets and ordering up the biggest crackdown on cabarets and nightclubs in years, sending cops to more than 1200 venues looking for non-card-carrying workers. But this protest worked as well. Kennedy was sacked for his overreaction, and though it took another seven years, the cabaret card system was eventually abolished.

by John Strausbaugh

#John Strausbaugh #Beatnicks #The Chiseler

9 notes · View notes

paradisobound · 5 years

Text

World’s Greatest First Love: Chapter 11

Summary: Dan Howell wanted a clean break from his father’s publishing company. It was why he applied for a different company in London: to stop the ridicule of his coworkers for riding on his ‘daddy’s coat tails’. But he wasn’t expecting to suddenly be going from a literature editor, to a graphic novel editor. And he certainly wasn’t expecting to come face first with his first love who broke his heart from when he was a teenager: who just happens to be his new editor-in-chief.

Based on the Anime and Manga “The World’s Greatest First Love: The Case of Ritsu Onodera” aka Sekai-Ichi Hatsukoi

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 2.3k (this chapter)

Warnings: mentions of alcohol

Beta Read by: @phanandpenguins

Updates Every Tuesday 12pm EST and Saturday at 1pm EST

READ ON AO3

“We have the New Years Party tomorrow evening so make sure your work is finished before the party begins.”

Dan looks up from his laptop to where Phil is stood in front of them all, a pile of paperwork in his hands. Dan was never aware that they were even having a New Years Party. He knew that obviously companies had parties but what was the point of this one?

Phil didn’t say anything more about it, probably because the other editors have all been here for a lot than Dan has been there and so it makes sense that they all already know the protocol while Dan is completely confused.

What type of party was it? Was it formal? Did he have to rent a tuxedo? Should he have known about this in advance?

He was starting to panic a bit at the thought of having to go to a party and actually socialize with all of the people.

“Mitch…” Dan says, trying to catch Mitch’s attention next to him. “What is the New Years Party?”

Mitch turns to him and smiles, “The party? Oh, it’s a New Years Party held by the company where editors, authors, and other publishing companies can mingle and start thinking about the next year. It actually doubles as a mixer and you’ll be talking with authors who are looking to change publishing companies and you’ll be trying to recruit them to ours.”

Dan furrowed his brows. He wasn’t sure that he really liked that. He hated socializing with people, let alone going to a party to try and speak with new authors to try and get them to come to their publishing company.

“What is the dress code?” Dan asks.

“Formal!” Mitch says. “Think of it like you’re going to a fancy cocktail party. All of the women will be in elegant dresses and normally we try and dress in suits. If you ask Phil, you might be able to borrow one of his if you don’t have one. You look about the same size and height.”

Dan just scoffed at the comment and Mitch shrugged, thinking he gave pretty solid advice to Dan. But in actuality, that didn’t help Dan at all. That only made him more nervous for the event and feeling more like he really did not want to attend.

He went the rest of his work day finishing his last edits and sending them back to his author before shutting his computer down and wishing everyone a goodbye for the evening. He needed to run to the shops and pick up a nice looking suit and he refused to ask in shame to borrow one of Phil’s. For one, he didn’t even know if he and Phil would even fit and secondly, he wasn’t going to ask his...no, they’re not anything at the moment. They’re just bridging past the state of awkwardness where they’re able to be together and occassionally have sex and kiss. But they haven’t established what they are.

And Dan’s not going to rush it by any means.

He stops by a clothing shop on the corner of his street and picks up a nice black blazer and a white button down shirt with black polka dots. He then gets a new pair of black slacks and buys them, cringing a bit at the price but knowing they would be worth it, he just threw the paper receipt into the black bag and walked down to his apartment.

When he got there, he hung up the clothes to get any wrinkles out of them before tomorrow night and then he made himself a quick dinner of pasta and sauce. For once, when Dan sat down that night, he felt really relaxed and not under pressure of anything.

He was really enjoying it.

***

Dan arrived to the venue at the time that Phil told him that all of the editors should get there. He knew that they had to all sign in and get their name badges and their complimentary drink before they headed into the banquet hall where they would all be mingling with everyone.

Dan walked up to the table and said his name to the two women manning it. They gave him his name tag and when he looked it, he wanted to roll his eyes when he saw, “Daniel Howell, Onyx Publishing Company, New Editor” on it. He’s been there for four months now. He wishes he would stop being called a “new editor”. He’s not a new editor by any means. He’s been editing for a long time now...just not with this company.

“Is there something wrong with your name tag, Mr. Howell?” The one woman asked him as she looked at him concerned about the way he was staring down at it.

He quickly shook his head and smiled, “No, just spaced out a moment.”

He quickly pinned the nametag to the outside of his blazer and walked further inside the open set of double doors to a room full of fancy dressed people and tables and cocktails going around.

Dan felt overwhelmed. This entire scenario felt like something out of a movie, not something happening in his real life. He’s never been to a party this fancy before. He felt totally out of place and worst of all, there were so many people walking around and mingling at tables that Dan couldn’t even locate where any of his coworkers were.

He couldn’t even see Phil in the crowd.

He was nearly ready to just give up and sit in the corner for the evening when he felt a tug on his arm and he turned his head quickly to see Phil stood beside him. His hair was perfectly styled back, his glasses perched neatly on his nose. He suit was beautifully tailored and he looked...stunning. Dan seriously felt a bit weak in the knees seeing him.

“There you are!” Phil said with a laugh. “We were all looking for you.”

“I just got here.”

“Mitch and Damien are walking around already speaking with authors but I had something to give you quickly.”

Dan’s about to ask what it was when he sees Phil ruffling in his pants pocket. Just as Dan is ready to make a lewd joke, Phil pulls out a tiny stack of neaty plastic wrapped cards and he hands them to Dan.

“You never had business cards. I know this because I never saw you with them. So I had some made for you before tonight. Here you go,” Phil hands him the cards and Dan looks down at them, noticing how beautiful they look. They have accents of gold and black and his name is shiny, sparkling in the light. They looked extremely well done. “You should hand them out to every author you meet regardless. We always say at the company that you shouldn’t have any left by the end of the night. So aim for that.”

Dan just nods and smiles because he’s utterly speechless at the kind gesture from Phil. He rips open the plastic and stuffs the garbage into his pocket. He then takes the cards and puts them in the pocket of his blazer, giving a few out in his hands for quick distributing.

“I need to introduce you to someone,” Phil says, grabbing for Dan’s hand without Dan’s permission. Dan feels caught off guard as Phil pulls him through the crowd, weaving through all of the tables and people.

They get to a small corner of the hall where a small group is gathered around a male author. He’s smiling, beaming actually, as his hands remain in his pockets and his posture looks a little bit on the bad side.

Dan feels bad in a way. He almost feels like the author is being cornered. But then he realizes that isn’t the case at all.

Mitch is stood there, a glass of wine in his hand, “Ah! Dan! Come meet Jacob! He’s our top selling author at the company.”

Dan immediately nodded his introduction to the author and handed him a business card as he shook his hand, “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Dan said, trying to force out the classic business talk. “I’m Daniel Howell and I’m a new editor with Onyx.”

Jacob nodded and smiled at Dan before being bombarded with questions all over again by everyone else.

Dan figured that he did his duty by saying hello to the author so he turned around just in time to see Phil wasn’t with him anymore. Feeling a bit like a lost child in a store, he quickly looked and searched around and he noticed Phil on the other side of the hall, laughing and taking a sip of some wine with Damien and a group of females.

Dan felt a little pang of jealousy seeing Phil and Damien still acting so close. But he tried to remind himself that there was nothing happening between Phil and Damien and he brushed any intrusive thoughts from his head.

Dan spent the rest of the evening walking around and trying to mingle with people. A few people he was able to spend a short amount of time talking to and he really enjoyed it. But a select other people definitely did not new like him and he could feel that when they read his name tag and immediately dispelled anything he was about to say.

By the end of the evening, Dan was exhausted, mentally and physically. He felt like he had used up all of his communication for the day and he was ready to go home and not speak to anyone he ventured work Monday morning.

Dan was on his way to grab a third class of red wine when someone stepped up to the front of the room with a microphone and announced that the event had ended and everyone was welcome to start making their way out via the double doors in the front.

Dan felt beyond relieved, and it was no secret he was the first person out of the door so he could get outside and call for a taxi to his flat. He barely stepped out of the doors when he heard his name being called, “Dan!”

Dan turned towards the voice, seeing Annie stood there in a black cocktail dress. Her hair styled up in a messy bun and her makeup done all the way down to her bright red lips, “What are you doing here?” Dan asked.

“I was attending the event tonight on behalf of your dads company.”

“Why?” Dan asked, genuinely a bit disgusted that Annie would be attending something on behalf of his family’s company.

“They needed someone to go in place of your father and they asked me to go since you obviously were going for Onyx.”

“And they didn’t consult me about that?” Dan asked, completely outraged.

“Dan, even I know you haven’t spoken to your family since you left your dad’s company. Think about that.”

“But why would they ask you?” Dan asks because he can’t make heads or tails of the situation.

“Because they still think we’re getting married, Dan!” Her voice was louder than Dan wished for it to be. He was hoping that no one else was listening to them. But from what he could see, there weren’t many people coming out yet.

“You didn’t tell them that we broke off the engagement?” Dan asked, his voice raising higher in pitch.

“No!” Annie said, edging closer to Dan. “Because that shouldn’t be what I have to do. You’re their son, you need to do it!”

Dan stood back, biting his tongue for all of the nasty stuff that is threatening to spew out of his lips right now. He can’t say anything. He can’t afford to say anything that could hurt anyone in the process.

“Are you in love with someone else?”

Dan bites his lip. He hesitates to answer, but as he dips his head down, he sees his business card in his hand, now crumbled from the small stack he kept his grasp the entire time. When he sees the card, he remembers who got them for him and his heart picks up speed.

“I…”

“Dan!” Dan quickly turns on his heels and sees Phil rushing towards him, his jacket unbuttoned and flying with the breeze around him. “Where did you go? We need you to go back in there and help clean up with the rest of us.”

Dan turns around and opens his mouth to give Annie an apology, but nothing comes out. So he shuts his mouth and follows Phil back inside the hall.

***

They go home together, him and Phil. It’s nearly silent between them but it’s not a bad silent. It’s a we’re both tired and need some rest, kind of silent. It’s much more peaceful. They get to their apartment building and walk inside together.

When they get to outside their doors, Phil invites Dan inside to his apartment for another round of wine and drinks to wind down after the intense mingling that they had to do. Dan doesn’t have the heart to tell Phil he only gave out a handful of his cards and the rest are in his back pocket.

“I saw you talking with…”

“Annie?” Dan says, completing Phil’s sentence.

Phil nods and Dan sighs.

“It’s...there is nothing between us.”

“I know,” Phil says, a smile playing on his lips. “I heard you two.”

“You heard us?” Dan asked, outraged. “How much did you hear?”

“Enough.”

Dan was able to protest, about to joke that Phil shouldn’t listen in to other peoples conversations. But Phil stops him in his tracks as he lunges forward and presses their lips together and Dan loses all sense of what he was going to say.

Everything about Phil feels like comfort now. It’s like going back home after being lost for days on end with no where to go. Being with Phil is exactly what he needed to make his life feel complete again.

As he wraps his arms around Phil’s neck and lets himself be dragged to the bedroom, he’s 100% sure now...that he is in love with Phil.

#phan #phanfic #phanfiction #angst #fluff #implied smut #first love fic #princesslexi763fics

19 notes · View notes

tifu-today-i-fucked-up · 6 years

Text

Today, I f*cked up by giving my 17 y.o nephew advice on how to meet women.

A few weeks ago I flew out to Fresno to visit my younger sister and her family since I haven't seen them in 4 years. The first night in town was wonderful and wholesome. They gave me a quick tour of the local sights and we ended up at a local restaurant for a family dinner.

The conversation was mostly about family stuff and how the boys were doing in school. The older son ,"Alec", was enjoying thus far his senior year at HS and enjoyed a healthy social life dating often. On the other hand is my nephew "Dan" who does very well academically but has zero game with the ladies. When I pressed him as to why, he admitted he had a hard time approaching them and mostly stuttered and blushed. Alec chimed in with the fact his brother seemed to fancy more "robust" girls which sent the table laughing with the exception of my sister and Dan.

Being the cool uncle I let the matter drop until my sister excused herself to use the ladies room. As she walked away l leaned over and offered a bit of advice from my Marine Corps days. If he liked big then he needed to go to a place where big is not judged. But don't go empty handed. I suggested finding a clothing store that accommodates plus sizes and bring along some snacks as an ice breaker. Now that I think of it I was about 4 cocktails into the evening and the snickering coming from my brother in law and nephew should have been an omen of sorts. So the topic dropped after sis returned and that was pretty much my first evening.

A few days later it occurred to all of us Dan was leaving the house early in the day and was returning much later at night in uncommonly good moods. When his mother inquired he explained about gaming with the friends and so on. I however was not buying it. I pulled him aside and got the truth. The boy explained after some trial and error there was a strip mall in town that had both a chicken shack as well as a reputable plus sized womens clothing store. He would buy a bucket of chicken tenders and eat on the hood of his car chatting up women as they walked by. He met a girl and they had been seeing each other. I was happy I could help and could not believe it actually worked. However things went south. A few days after my return to the east coast I received a very emotional call from my sister. She explained between curses lobbed at me she had went clothing shopping one day and when she went to enter the store there was a "Have you seen this man" flier on the door. It was a grainy surveillance photo of Dan sitting on the hood of his car with a bucket of chicken and a two liter of soda. The flier warned of a man/youth approaching women as they tried to shop and though he had been warned off he still may be a threat. When she confronted the boy he rolled on me and his father played ignorant. Now Dan is grounded until the threat of restraining orders die down and I told I am not invited for Christmas. Poor Dan cant go out to see his new girlfriend and blames me for that as well.

(source) (story by madmoran1029)

#tifu #by madmoran1029 #fail #fails #fail stories #lol #wtf #today i fucked up #fuck ups #fucked up #fucked up stories

47 notes · View notes

sodalester · 6 years

Text

Rest Your Head Now (Everything’s Alright)

summary: 3 times Dan and Phil napped on tour + 1 time they couldn’t sleep

genre: straight up fluff

warnings: none

word count: 2.8k

written for @phandomficfests

a big shoutout to @jorzuela for being my beta! a big help considering i wrote half of this while half asleep

requests are open!

ao3 link

There was something almost soothing about the in between state of consciousness Phil found himself in. His eyes were closed, lids too heavy to open and no reason to do so. He was leaning against something warm.

Perhaps it was someone; someone with dark curly hair and a soft, fond smile as he felt Phil against his side.

He could hear the movement of the train as it travelled, wind rushing outside the window and the tracks sliding against the wheels. It was quiet inside the train, as it always was with public transportation, the noises outside were the only sound to be heard.

Phil wasn’t exactly asleep, but he was far from awake. His mind was almost scarily silent, free from any worries or burdens. It was peaceful, he felt peaceful.

He didn’t remember where he was going or what for. All he knew was that he was on a train and there was someone warm against him. That someone smelled good too, a sharp contrast to the metallic and stale air of the train. Instinctively, he moved closer, pressing his nose to the skin of the person who had unknowingly become his pillow.

He heard a gentle laugh, the sound making his heart squeeze. It was a familiar laugh, one he had heard many times. His heart had recognized it and sang because of it.

Something soft touched his arm. It travelled up and down it, continuing its feather-like touch. Phil liked it; it was drawing him farther into the grip of sleep.

“You awake?” a voice whispered. Phil could feel the rumbles of the words before he heard them, a side effect of touching the skin.

Phil wanted to respond, wanted to say something, but his mind was blank. Too tired to form sentences or move more muscle than he already had.

He felt something something touch his forehead. It was warm yet chapped and all too familiar for Phil to fight it. It made him sigh happily, melt further into the warmth of the person.

“You’re so sweet,” the voice hummed, “how did I ever get lucky enough to be loved by someone like you?”

The hand moved from his arm to his hair, pushing his quiff back. Then, it tugged on his glasses, removing them and relieving him from the slight discomfort.

“I love you, Phil.”

Phil sighed again, his way of saying “I love you” back without having to utter words. The hand was back on his arm and sleep was slowly claiming him.

He napped with a small smile on his face and close to the body of his lover.

His lover rested his head on top of Phil’s, growing tired himself. They had another four hours on the train and time felt so long with little space the move around in. Maybe they’d nap for the rest of the trip or wake up a few hours before they arrived in Scotland.

Either way, his lover was content to drift off as well, falling asleep with Phil.

Phil was, despite his friendly attitude and glee towards fans, reserved about himself and his own private details.This applied to everyone who knew him, even Dan. He liked to keep his emotions private, liked to deal with things alone.

Of course, that never stopped Dan from finding out that he was struggling, but it was a hard habit he couldn’t break.

They were neck deep into the tour, speeding across America and travelling overnight through winding roads, the sound of the engine running. Perform, pack up, travel. One minute Phil was asleep and the next he was standing on stage in front of hundreds.

He ignored the stress, didn’t talk about it or even acknowledge it. He let it fester in the back of his mind, only rising during night and stealing precious sleep from him.

When the stress found that it wasn’t being listen to, it turned physical.

Dan was sitting on the bus couch, scrolling through his phone without a care. They were in between venues and parked at a rest stop to use an actual bathroom and regroup.

Phil boarded the bus, his feet dragging and body hunched over. He made a beeline to Dan wordlessly, easing himself onto the couch next to him. He cuddled up to Dan, clinging onto his arm and resting his head on Dan’s shoulder. Dan didn’t say anything, too caught up in what he was reading to notice Phil’s clinginess.

Phil was rarely clingy, preferring to keep things lazy and natural. The only times Dan had noticed him being clingy were when he was overwhelmed, exhausted, or sick. Those were the times were Phil broke down his own personal safeguard to let Dan in and finally let himself heal.

Dan didn’t take notice until his phone alerted him of a low battery, pulling him from his realm of reading. Frowning, he reluctantly locked it and tried to stand up. He was stopped, however, by a pitiful whine from Phil who clung desperately to his arm.

Dan noticed how Phil’s face was twisted in discomfort, one he would get when he had too much lactose or had twisted a muscle the previous day. Dan’s heart faltered in sympathy, suddenly very worried about Phil.

“Phil? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Phil insisted when clearly there was something hurting him.

Dan softened, knowing he’d have to convince Phil to talk to him. He was so stubborn, it was silly. Dan pushed some of Phil’s hair back, his touches gentle and soothing. “Baby, I know something’s wrong. Please just talk to me, you don’t have to be scared.”

Phil caved in, the pet name and touches melting any stubbornness he had. “My stomach hurts and I don’t feel good.”

Dan’s worries only increased. He placed a hand against Phil’s forehead, checking for a fever. There was no heat, thankfully, though that didn’t help Dan to find the cause of Phil’s illness.

“Was it something you ate? Is it lactose?”

Phil shook his head. “Ate the same things as you and haven’t had any milk today.” He groaned as his stomach cramped unpleasantly.

Dan lowered his hand, letting it settle on Phil’s shoulder. As far as Dan knew, there weren’t any outside sources causing the stomachache.

“Is it stress?”

Phil didn’t answer, instead curling up further against Dan. His body language answered Dan’s question for him.

Dan cooed, heart melting with sympathy. “That bad?”

Phil nodded.

“Love, why didn’t you come talk to me earlier? You know I wouldn’t have minded helping,” Dan whispered, forehead creased with concern.

Phil sighed. “I know, I just thought I could handle it.”

Dan wished Phil would rely on him more, yet he knew that that was simply how Phil was. In the end, he’d always open up to Dan.

Dan leaned forward and kissed Phil’s forehead, trying to comfort him and ease his mind. “I don’t think we have any painkillers on the bus.”

Phil shook his head. “Painkillers wouldn’t work anyway. Need to relax.”

“How about a nap? I could play some soft music and cuddle you while you rest.”

A nap did sound appealing and Phil could desperately use the sleep. “Yes, please.”

Dan pulled him up gently and led him to the back of the tour bus where the bed was. He closed the door, hoping the rest of the management would understand that they needed to be alone.

Dan picked up some sweats from his suitcase that was lying open. “Here, put on some sweats. I doubt those jeans are helping with the pain.”

As Phil changed, Dan setup his laptop 0n the bedside table. He already had some sleep music downloaded as a suggestion from his therapist. The soft sounds filled the room, giving the atmosphere a more quiet feeling to it.

Phil curled up on the bed, hugging his arms around his stomach. He watched as Dan lowered the blinds and turned off the light, plunging the room into mostly darkness. There was some more rustling then Dan was climbing into the bed with Phil.

He didn’t say anything, instead pulling Phil close to him and letting his hand rest on his back, rubbing small circles. He kissed Phil’s nose, then his forehead, finally resting his head on top of his hair.

Dan listened as Phil’s breathing slowed down as he fell asleep. He smiled and closed his own eyes, the music and warmth of Phil making him drowsy.

When their manager found them curled up together on the bed, she didn’t have the heart to wake up them up.

Dan was truly something else, Phil mused.

They were celebrating another successful evening by visiting a high end club nearby. The drinks had fancy names that Phil stumbled over while Dan somehow pronounced them effortlessly. His was fruity with a certain punch to it that burned his throat yet left him wanting more.

More rounds of drinks were served. Phil was talking idly with someone from management while Dan scrolled through his phone, his body connected to Phil’s. It was his way of being clingy without being too dramatic; the warmth of Phil’s body and the physical touch was enough to starve off the affectionate monster that rose in Dan whenever he had a few drinks in his system.

Phil had finished his conversation when he finally turned to Dan. He was expecting him to still be on his phone, scrolling through twitter and looking at what their followers had to say.

Only, Dan wasn’t on his phone. Instead, his head was lulled to the side, mouth parted slightly and hair ruffled, with his eyes closed.

Phil felt his heart leap in his chest, the warm feeling of love and affection spreading through him like a wildfire. He sighed softly, a smile stuck on his face as he stared at the sleeping man next to him.

It must have been the alcohol, a sedative that worked its magic on Dan’s already exhausted body. Phil most certainly didn’t mind how fucking /adorable/ Dan looked. The steady rise and fall of his chest was therapeutic, a sign of peace and stability amidst the chaos of tour.

How could Phil not love this man?

He wrapped his arm around Dan’s waist and leaned his body into his own, adjusting it so his head fell on his shoulder. He smelled of fruity cocktails and cologne and Phil loved it. He couldn’t help but press kisses into Dan’s hair, not caring if the whole world was watching.

Dan stirred, making a whining noise and hiding his face in Phil’s neck. He let out a long breath and tried to fall back asleep.

Phil couldn’t help but giggle. “Taking a nap at the club? That’s a new one for you.”

Dan groaned, scrunching his nose and reluctantly opening his eyes. His head felt dizzy with alcohol, but with Philby his side he felt stable.

“Shush, ‘m sleeping,” Dan mumbled into Phil’s neck.

Phil merely laughed once more then kissed Dan’s hair. “I don’t think a club is exactly the best place to take a nap at, but you do you.”

Dan lifted his head to glare at Phil, only this proved to be a mistake as Phil took this as an invitation to kiss Dan’s cheeks. And once he started, he didn’t stop.

“Phil,” Dan complained, blushing from being smothered with kisses, “Stop it.”

Phil beamed and placed one last kiss on Dan’s cheek, satisfied with his work. Dan was now a flustered, sleepy mess with red cheeks and heavy eyes.

“How about we go back to our hotel room and sleep there? I think you’ll find it much comfier,” Phil offered.

Dan pouted. “But it’s so far away.”However, he knew that they did need to return, and he really didn’t want to spend the night sleeping at an unknown club. “Fine, but if I fall asleep on the ride back, you’re carrying me in.”

He did fall asleep on the ride, not that Phil was surprised. He merely smiled and tried to ignore the feeling of dread as he realized he would have to carry Dan to their hotel room.

But he’d do it for Dan, because he loved him.

+1.

This hotel had a balcony, one that overlooked the city.

They were Mumbai, one of their last tour places. It was well past midnight yet the buzzing of the city had yet to die down. It reminded Phil faintly of home, of his own city that even at night was alive.

Phil was tired, his muscles aching from their performance (along with other activities) and eyes burning with a plea for sleep. His mind, however, was far too awake for sleep.

How long had it been since he had seen home, slept in his own bed? A home that pretty soon, they’d be moving out of anyways.

His brain was plagued with thoughts of the future and past, but mostly of Dan. Dan who was fast asleep in their hotel bed, hair still damp from the shower they had shared. Phil smiled longingly, remembering Dan’s skin against his own and the way he had looked after Phil had his way with him.

He was flawed, yet somehow perfect in every sense. Phil’s mind always went to him; he was Phil’s base and Phil’s home, the one thing he could count on.

Nine years together and Phil was almost desperate to marry him.

Phil sighed at that thought, his chest aching with desire. There had always been too much going on, too much doubt, too much attention. Phil always wanted it to be perfect, yet he could never tell when that moment would be.

He closed his eyes, letting them rest. His head pounded and he knew that realistically he needed to go to sleep.

Warm arms found their way around his waist and suddenly Dan was there, resting his chin on Phil’s shoulder.

“Can’t sleep?”

Phil shook his head. “Can’t stop thinking.”

Dan hummed. He didn’t ask what it was about, knowing that Phil preferred to talk about it on his own terms. Instead he stood there, smelling of hotel soap and sweat from the heat, holding Phil in his arms.

Phil couldn’t bear it any longer, the tightness in his chest physically painful and the voices in his mind screaming at him to speak. He felt his nerves jump as he opened his mouth to speak.

“Marry me.”

Dan squeezed Phil’s waist and let out a shaky breath. “Really?”

Phil laid his hand over Dan’s and suddenly all nervousness he had, left. This was Dan, the same man who had grown with him from a clash of emo and awkwardness to an adult with a job and a house in the future.

“Dan,” he turned to face him, staring into Dan’s eyes. They reflected the moon as they stared at Phil with wonder and surprise. “There’s nothing more I want in my life than to grow old with you. To own a house and maybe even raise some kids of our own.”

Phil heard Dan’s voice hitch. He had always wanted to be a father; Phil remembered from a distinct conversation they had one night when Dan was drunk off his ass.

“I want to call you my husband and do all the things a cheesy gay married couple would do. You’re everything I want and have wanted for years now.”

Phil could see Dan smile, his eyes watering as sobs slowly built up in his throat. When one escaped, he ducked to hide his head in Phil’s chest.

“Phil, oh Phil I,” Dan stumbled over his words, too overwhelmed to even know where to begin, “Yes, yes, I’ll marry you, you stupid fucking dork. Fuck.”

Phil felt his own eyes water and he buried his nose in Dan’s hair, letting the few tears he had slip out. They were like rain on a wildfire, soothing the storm in him.

“Shit, I was going to ask once the tour was over, but fucking hell-” Dan laughed, looking up at Phil. “You’re bloody amazing and I can’t believe I’m going to marry you.”

Phil laughed softly, a bit too emotional and trying to keep himself from sobbing from relief and pure love for Dan. He hurriedly kissed Dan, overwhelmed in the best way possible. He had to pull back, however, as he let out a sob. One lead to another and pretty soon he was grossly crying.

Dan cooed, hugging him close and letting Phil cry on his shoulder. He could feel Phil trembling and his sobs coming out in uneven breathes.

“I-I love you so much,” Phil managed, clinging onto Dan for dear life.

Dan closed his eyes as his heart soared to new, dangerous heights. “I love you too. You’re my everything.”

They went to bed much later when they were both much more composed, hearts singing and permanent smiles on their faces.

It was the best night of sleep that Phil had ever had.

#my fics #my cat is on top of me help hes so fluffy #phanfic #phanfiction #phan proposal #dan and phil #phandom #dnp #phan fluff

100 notes · View notes

m0th-misruled · 5 months

Text

a lil comic i made!! featuring mylton meyrick and fancy dan!

this is based on a little blurb i wrote a while back and wanted to draw and!! its finally done!

#shadows over loathing #mylton meyrick [sol]#fancy dan the cocktail man #sol fancy dan #fancy dan sol #theres a few other characters there but!! i wont tag them bc they're not the focus #shadows over loathing ocs #danton

14 notes · View notes

unashamed-shipper · 7 years

Text

Living With You

Thank you so much for waiting for this! I would like to announce that I am no longer updating this story because I am so busy.

April Fools! I would never stop updating this, even if I had three jobs and worked 70 hours a week. You all are the best reviewers and most amazing people in this entire world. I could never give up on this. Thank you so much for all that you’ve done for me.

Onward and Upward! <3

read on ff.net and ao3

one / two / three / four / five / six / seven / eight / nine / ten / eleven / twelve / thirteen / fourteen / fifteen

rating: t+ for sexual joking, swear words, and violence

pairings: nalu, gruvia, gajevy

characters: natsu, lucy, juvia, gray, gajeel, levy

reblogs are appreciated <3

Juvia’s shop opened up the next morning at 8 AM. It didn’t usually open that early, but since the customers had been so irritated at not being able to get their crystals for a week, Juvia had made an exception.

Unfortunately for Lucy, that exception was not communicated to her.

“Good morning, Lucy,” Juvia answered when Lucy let out a groggy greeting.

“Why are you calling me so early, Juvia? It’s my day off, isn’t it?” Lucy yawned and looked at the clock. 8:30. What had gotten into her boss today? Had the alcohol they had drank last night as a celebration for Natsu coming home impaired her judgement?

“Juvia is sorry, but the store is open now,” the woman said, her tone worried. “Is Lucy going to make it in?”

“Of course, Juvia, but I wish you would have told me that we were opening this early.”

“The customers were getting impatient so Juvia was forced to open up the store early. It is not her fault.” The inflection in Juvia’s voice sounded like she was concerned, but firm.

“I understand. I’ll be there in half an hour.” Lucy pulled herself out of bed, pushing a hand through her hair. “Will you be able to hold down the fort until then?”

“Juvia will do her best. Cana is with her, so Cana will help. Juvia will see Lucy soon,” Juvia said before saying goodbye and hanging up.

Lucy slowly made her way into the kitchen to pop some tarts into the toaster quickly, turning around to make herself some coffee. She would need it after last night. Why, oh, why had they decided to drink so late?

Hurrying into the shower and pulling on some clothes, she combed through her hair rougher than she usually would. To her chagrin, her locks hadn’t taken to her conditioner like she wanted. Sighing, she grabbed her mascara and lipstick and shoved them in her bag before stepping into her shoes and rushing out the door with her coffee and breakfast in hand.

Zooming into the parking lot ten minutes later, Lucy found that the store was filled with people. One was arguing with another about a book on magic, and one was flirting with Cana and telling her he could drink her under the table. Juvia was struggling with a man with his hand in her face inquiring about the prices of some crystals. Lucy jumped right in and asked what the problem was, and the man had no problem telling her.

“This woman marks up her prices too high! I can get this at another shop for much cheaper!”

“Well, she has to pay her employees. She wouldn’t be able to if she didn’t mark up the prices a little more. And it’s only fifty cents more than the price you could get anywhere else,” Lucy said, attempting to reason with the man.

“What do I care about the employees? They aren’t needed!” The man got closer to Lucy with a smirk on his face, and Lucy pulled back with a smirk of her own on her lips.

“If you think that, sir, then you can leave. We don’t need hurtful customers like you invading this calm environment,” Lucy said, holding out a palm toward the door. The man scoffed and walked off without his precious crystals. Juvia held out her palm and Lucy slapped it soundly. The two giggled for a moment before helping the next, thankfully kind, customer.

The workday passed by quickly, and Levy stopped by for lunch. She had gotten off work and strutted in wearing her work pants and a blue tie blouse. She grinned as she handed Lucy and Juvia their lunch they had called to order, and the three sat down to eat together in the back while it was slow.

“Do you have to wear stuffy suits like that all day, Lev? That must get tiring. I like wearing my apron all day,” Lucy said with a wink at Juvia.

“Unfortunately, yes,” Levy said with a sigh, “and sadly it takes up most of my wardrobe too.”

“Would Levy want Juvia and Lucy to come with her shopping?” Juvia said, eyeing Lucy with a knowing smile. Lucy perked up at the word ‘shopping’ and nodded her head with hopeful eyes.

“Oh, can we? I’ve always wanted to see what you looked like in a cocktail dress! You need to show off those legs for your date, Lev!” Lucy said excitedly, and Levy sighed and shook her head.

“Well I guess I don’t have any choice, do I?” Levy replied with her lips upturned, and Lucy whooped softly.

After the women finished their lunch, Lucy and Juvia headed back to work in order to make more customers happy. The life of a retail worker never stopped, and the customers would always be there arguing about prices or sales like the man had just a few hours before.

“See you in a few hours!” Levy called, waving to her friends. Lucy gave her best friend a grin and a thumbs-up and Juvia opted for a soft wave.

The rest of the day went on without a hitch, and sooner rather than later they found themselves at Heart Kreuz trying on a bunch of things they’d never buy themselves. Juvia grabbed a velvet red dress that she would never have picked herself at the urging of Lucy and Levy. Surprised that she actually liked how it looked, Juvia sent a photo to Gray with a smile.

“Okay, now that we’ve found something for me and something for Juvia,” Lucy said, grasping the fall boots that had been marked down almost half off, “We have to find something for you, Lev.”

With a sigh, Levy shook her head. “I don’t think they have anything for petite girls. All they have is maxi dresses for spring.”

“I’m not even tall enough for one of those. Sometimes I think they’d have to be worn by an Amazon,” Lucy said with a grin, knowing that Cana sometimes wore those same dresses she saw on the rack. At 5’10, the woman nearly towered over most of her friends other than a select few.

“Blue would look pretty on Levy,” Juvia commented, twirling her hair and staring at her phone.

“I think you should try something in a burgundy,” Lucy said, pointing toward the same kind of dress she had told Levy about earlier: a little cocktail number that would show off her legs.

“Are you sure? This seems pretty short for a fancy restaurant like Emillio’s…” Levy said, and Lucy tsked while practically shoving her friend into the fitting rooms.

“Just try it on! I think you’ll like it.” Lucy pulled the curtain shut and grabbed some water from the complimentary water and coffee station Heart Kreuz had set up. It was a pretty expensive shop, but Lucy loved the style of clothes and the deals she could scrounge for.

Moments later, Levy emerged with a flush and her fingers gripping the hem of the dress. “I-I don’t know about this--it seems too risque.”

“Juvia thinks Levy looks very pretty!” Juvia said, snapping a picture of her friend and posting it on several social media sites, blocking Gajeel from seeing the posts. They wanted to make sure that he would be surprised with how Levy looked that night.

“I think you look beautiful, Levy. It fits you perfectly!” Lucy reached out and grabbed her friend’s arm to pull her toward the three-way mirrors.

“Jeez, I’m gonna need a lot of makeup. Pulling all these all-nighters hasn’t been good for my skin,” Levy critiqued, poking at her face and decolletage with a frown.

“I’m sure Evergreen can help you with that. And your hair can be done by her too. Don’t worry, we’ve got everything under control.” Lucy patted her friend’s arm with a smile, and Levy pouted as she continued to squish her face to find each individual flaw.

Levy bought the dress without hesitation, but was still surprised at the price.

“I’m paying that much?” she balked, but Lucy and Juvia’s encouragement coaxed her to fork over the cash.

With that, the three girls drove separately to Lucy’s house where Lucy would show Levy an array of basic makeup tips that she could use when she wasn’t going out on such a fancy date. Singing along to a band they remembered from their childhood, Lucy’s thoughts wandered toward Natsu. It had been a few days since she’d last saw him, and the most recent time they had talked was when they were on the bus together. Lucy’s heart fluttered with excitement as she imagined what he looked like that day.

Lucy pulled into her apartment’s parking lot and smiled when she went inside and saw her three roommates in a fight like normal. Natsu had Gray in a headlock and his shirt had pulled up just a tiny bit to reveal his abs as he grasped Gray’s head and gave him a noogie. It was all Lucy could do not to gasp as she saw what he partially looked like without a shirt on. If she went to the beach with the three, she would be doomed.

“Hey, Luce! The mail guy left a letter on the table for you,” Natsu said with a grin before getting the wind knocked out of him as Gray threw him to the floor.

“For me?” Lucy asked, picking the letter gingerly and examining it. There was no one who knew her address other than Levy and Juvia, and there was no way that Dan had gotten her address from anywhere. She kept her social media accounts pretty private, and she would never post any information that she wouldn’t want everyone knowing on there.

Her anxiety started to push at her belly, and she sunk to the floor as she opened the letter. With shaking hands, she unfolded the crisp paper and began to read.

It was from her father.

‘Lucy,’ it read, ‘How unfortunate I have not heard from you for the past few years. It is quite sad for a father not to hear from his daughter. Nonetheless, I have a proposition for you. One of our business partners has a son and would like to unite the Heartflilia and Eucliffe businesses. I expect you to send me back a missive with your agreement. Warmest Regards, Jude Heartfilia, Heartfilia Estate.’

Lucy’s stomach began to to tremble with fear. Her--her father was alive?

Her mind began to flash with images of Dan telling her that her father died in a car accident. On his handsome face was writ faux concern, and Lucy remembered shouldering past him to go cry in her room. Her father wasn’t the closest person to her, but he was still family.

She realized that her ex hadn’t talked about how exactly he was killed. Dan had said something vague, telling lies like he always did. And Lucy believed him, smiling and listening naively. She was so stupid with her love. She gave it away freely to him, and he charmed her with his words.

Falling on the floor, she ran to her room to cry like she had when Dan had told her that her father had died.

Only this time, it was because he was alive.

***

“What do you mean, that bastard is alive?” Natsu asked after reading the letter, shaking the letter in the air in his fist.

“Simple. Her ex lied to her,” Gray said snidely, kicking one of Natsu’s spare shirts that was on the floor.

“What the hell’s goin’ on here? Her old man was dead but now is up and kickin’?” Gajeel asked, throwing his hands up in the air.

“I dunno, but if he ever shows up here I’m gonna kick his ass,” Natsu said, growling.

“You want to kick everyone’s ass,” Gray smirked at Natsu, and Natsu responded by socking his frenemy in the arm.

After a moment of fighting, Natsu stopped punching Gray and went to Lucy’s room to comfort her. He had to do something to aid her anxiety.

“Luce?” he asked after opening the door. Only hearing soft snores from her side of the room, he smiled softly and made his way to the couch by the end of her bed.

His smile was only made larger when he saw her messy ponytail unravel and her locks tumble over her shoulders. Her hair was gorgeous and made her look a little more ethereal as she snored through her nose.

His heart thumped in his chest as his eyes traveled down her form. She was stunning to say the least, but it was nice seeing her in comfortable clothes instead of those stiff blouses and skirts she wore everyday. It wasn’t to say that she didn’t look nice; she did! She looked professional and pretty always, but Natsu wanted to jump at his chance to see Lucy in her quietest state.

Natsu was startled by Lucy’s loud snore as she turned over to face him.

Well, he thought with the corners of his mouth upturned, maybe not as quiet as he thought.

Suddenly curious, he got up from his spot on the couch and went to the side of her bed cautiously. Reaching out a hand, he stroked her hair with a gentle smile. It was soft and healthy, and it’s color shined in the moonlight that streamed from her window. Natsu felt his eyes widen as he played with her hair and Lucy smiled in her sleep. She looked so peaceful, and he loved that about her.

Removing his hand, he went to go leave so he could go to sleep. It had been a long day, and he had to get ready for tomorrow.

Then he was jerked back, and he felt himself fall onto something soft and pillowy. Testing it’s firmness with a finger, he found that he had fallen on Lucy’s bed. Confused, he turned around and found her snuggling up next to him. Her body was pressed up against his, and he gasped when she forced her body flush to Natsu’s.

Breathing lightly and trying not to exhale too much, his heartbeat sped up when he found that she had wrapped her arms around his chest.

“Lucy?” he asked quietly, but she did not answer. She was asleep.

Silently, he fell asleep next to her, his last thought echoing in his mind.

‘I...I think I love her.’

Thank you so much for your sweet comments and your appreciation. I love you all so much <3

I will try to update once a week, but since my work cut my hours and I’m looking for a new job, the updates might be different throughout the week. Thank you for keeping up with me through my crazy schedule! :)

>>>Chapter 16>>>

80 notes · View notes

phanarchy-blog · 8 years

Text

The Better Part of 2012

Description: There’s a reason Phil suggested taking Dan to Vegas for his 21st birthday. It’s the same reason all the footage mysteriously disappeared.

Words: 1.5k

Content Warning: alcohol, gambling

Read on AO3!

“Dan,” Phil whispered as he booped his boyfriend’s nose in bed, “Wake up, baby. Happy Birthday!”

Dan groaned and hid his face in the crook of his arm. “My birthday doesn’t start until 11am. Before then it’s not acceptable to wake me up.” He chuckled as he ripped the sheet up and over his head.

“It’s 10:52,” Phil said. “And I already ordered breakfast, so you might want to put on pants. They’ll be here any minute,” Phil laughed.

“Hhhnnngggg, well shit. I guess I have no choice.” He rolled out of bed and slipped back into the swimming shorts he had been wearing all day yesterday.

The hotel Phil had booked was really quite impressive. It was beautiful, of course, and it had a pool which they had been hesitant to leave yet, what with the desert heat in June. So far they had hardly seen any of Vegas.

As they heard a knock on the door, Dan scrambled to the opposite bed. It hadn’t been used. The move was not lost on Phil, who frowned slightly.

“We’re not gonna get caught, relax.”

Phil answered the door and wheeled in the shining cart with their room service, tipping the employee generously as he waved goodbye. Much too perky for the time, Dan thought. Phil set their silver trays on the bed and sat next to Dan.

“Hey,” he said, grabbing Dan’s attention. He pulled his face up to meet his, kissing his boyfriend softly. When the time came for a typical kiss to be broken, Phil only gained passion. Dan thought he may melt into Phil from it all. He began cursing the edges where Phil ended and he began, wishing instead to be one entity, like this forever.

Only then when that ache became clear did Phil stop to catch his breath. And that’s when Dan noticed he too had stopped breathing.

“What was that for?” Dan asked, staring intensely.

“I just wanted to,” Phil answered as he took the safety lighter from the tray.

“Wait.. Why is there a lighter?”

Phil lifted the cover from Dan’s meal and revealed the stack of waffles underneath, dotted with whipped cream, coated in sprinkles, with a single candle placed in the center. Phil lit the candle.

“Happy birthday, Dan.” Phil watched as Dan gave him that look that said really? but it quickly turned into genuine appreciation.

“I love you, Phil,” he said.

“I know you do,” Phil answered seriously. He abruptly snapped back into cheerful mode as he continued, “I love you too. Now make a wish!”

Dan thought for a moment, his eyes catching his boyfriend’s and blew it out in a puff of breath.

By 7pm, the day had been filled to the brim with sightseeing and exploring. They had ridden a roller-coaster, explored a castle replica, toured the make-shift French Riviera (deciding after all that they would have to see the real one some day). And now sat across from one another in a dimly lit dining room of a rather fancy restaurant Phil had been lucky enough to get a table at.

The candle light glowed against their faces and Dan giggled at how romantic it was. Phil finished his second glass on champagne that night.

“Well, this really has been a great birthday, Phil. Thank you.” Dan stood up from the table, readying himself to return to the hotel. Phil rose to meet him.

“You say that like it’s over!” Phil interjected excitedly. “We’ve only done the wholesome stuff so far. Are you up for some gambling?”

Dan considered it for a moment as they opened the door of the restaurant and exited onto the Vegas strip, the sun setting low behind the skyline. Orange faded to pink, faded to dark blue.

“Yeah, what the hell. We’re in Vegas after all. Who knows when we’ll be back.”

With that, Phil grabbed Dan’s hand and pulled him into the nearest hotel casino he could see.

“You’re so excitable today, Phil. What’s different?” Dan questioned, though the smile on his face revealed he was actually quite enjoying it.

“I’m just really happy to be here with you,” he said, leaning his head on Dan’s shoulder for just a moment. Just long enough that even people who recognized them would miss the chance to capture it on film.

“Well, I’ll get drinks. Gotta celebrate being 21 and being able to drink in the States.” Dan trailed away from his partner slowly, glancing over his shoulder to watch him awkwardly standing around a roulette table. Dan gently shook his head smiling. That boy.

“Sex on the Beach and a Mojito, please,” he said when the bartender finally addressed him.

“ID, kid?” Dan was too encapsulated by the night to be offended. His haircut after all, made him look like a teenager from five years prior. He showed him the UK identification and the bartender made the cocktails in silence.

With one in each hand, he returned to Phil, giving him the Sex on the Beach and taking a long swig from his Mojito.

“Damn that’s strong,” he said. “Good though. So how do you play?”

“Roulette is a bit too complicated to explain everything right away,” said a stranger from behind them. The woman was easily a foot shorter than them. “But watch for a little while and you’ll get the idea.”

So they did, and for two hours they bet the minimum on occasion, but truthfully just finding entertainment in watching others. The alcohol slowly hitting their bloodstream and pulling their heads higher into the air. The excitement around them pulsing, Phil spoke.

“I feel really lucky right now, Dan.” Dan lightly slapped his arm.

“Phil, tonight I’m done being skeptical,” Dan nearly slurred. “If you have a feeling, you go for it.”

“Kiss me,” he said. Dan’s eye widened, the statement sobering him momentarily. He looked around to see if any obvious fans were nearby. When he noticed no one even turned their heads at them, he could feel his shoulders drop, calmer already.

“I’d feel a lot luckier if you kissed me,” Phil repeated. Dan blushed deeply, looking at his feet.

“Come on, darling,” a tipsy onlooking woman cheered. “Kiss him!”

Suddenly the whole table was rooting for it, and Dan leaped forward to meet Phil’s lips, realizing that this may be the only time they could be in public with little risk of running into a subscriber. After all, their core audience probably wouldn’t be allowed into a casino, to say the least.

He kissed him gingerly, sharing his love for Phil in front of others for the very first time.

With that, Phil blew on his chips and set them in 3 spots into the board. The red 9, symbolizing the year they met, the black 11, symbolizing the date which was now Dan’s birthday, but Phil was now about 95% sure would mean something more very soon. And finally, the red 21, Dan’s age, as of today. He didn’t share his thought process with anyone.

And as the wheel spun, and the table went silent, Dan closed his eyes, opening them to the sound of happy screaming and the feeling of a pat on the back. A random man gripped his shoulder and shook him slightly.

The ball had stuck on 21.

“Oh my god!” He shouted. “How much did we win?” He looked at Phil, watching his partner cover his smile with both hands.

“In your favorite words, Dan- A fuckload.” Phil kissed him again. Dan wrapped his arms around Phil entirely, throwing all sense of caution to the wind. When the two finally parted, Phil was grinning.

“Let’s get married,” he said. Dan smiled widely, albeit a look of confusion in his eyes.

“Tonight? Are you serious?” he questioned. “Can we even do that? We’re not even citizens here.” Dan brushed the thought out of his mind, but hope rose from his chest into his throat, where it felt remarkably like nervousness. He swallowed, looking his boyfriend dead in the eye.

“I looked it up. If we get married tonight, it’s legal in the UK. I brought our birth certificates. I wanted to have the opportunity to be spontaneous, if it felt right. And my god, it feels right to me.” He waited for Dan to answer, but Dan just stood still, tears threatening to spill from his dark eyes. “Dan? What do you think?”

“You’re really proposing right now?” he asked. Dan wiped the corners of his eyes, failing to be subtle.

“I really am. What do you say?” Phil grabbed Dan’s hands and pulled his body close.

“It feels so fucking right,” Dan said. He closed the distance between them, engulfing Phil and holding tight to his waist as he leaned backwards, lifting Phil’s feet off the ground for as long as he could hold him.

“We’re really doing this,” Dan confirmed. Phil laced their fingers together.

“We really are.” He squeezed tighter. “Let’s go!”

By 11pm, they were standing in suits and ties in a cheesy little chapel. They had decided to walk together down the aisle, arm in arm. As the Wedding March began to play, Dan hesitated.

“Dan?” Phil gave him a worried look, causing Dan to bust out in laughter. He shook his head. He stepped forward, signaling for Phil that everything was definitely still on.

“It’s nothing,” he said. “It’s just that this was literally my wish.”

Thanks so much for reading this non-inventive, but still fun to write, phanfiction! Thoughts? Comments?

#phanfiction #phandom

35 notes · View notes