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opticfile · 1 year

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𝐜𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐡é

—✦ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 // in which a player (Lutz Beilschmidt himself) falls for real this time, and the girl he's enamored by has to overcome his reputation.

✧ taken from my old quotev!! not stolen work!!!

—✦ 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 // Lutz Beilschmidt (APH 2p!Germany)

—✦ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬 // drinking, angst, assumed cheating, betrayal, fluff

3.3k words

The pounding in your head was only outweighed by the obnoxiously loud sound of the music blaring from the living room. It was another frat party, one you didn't intend on going to, but hey, you only live once. At least this time there was more of a theme, it was a Halloween costume party—though that mostly just meant sorority girls got to add a cat ear headband to their usual miniskirt and heels.

You and your friends were not dressed in the classic slutty animal costumes, and the more and more this party went on the more you were both thankful and regretful. Emma convinced you and Darcy to dress like... wizards. Not the cute, girly kind, the kind with the 2-foot beards and starry robes. Then again, Emma still managed to make the shapeless robes sexy, and she discarded her beard long ago. You were about to rip off your own, the synthetic material was getting itchy.

The whole thankful and regretful part came in when you saw possibly the most notorious trio on campus, the biggest players to grace the university in about... what? 20? 30 years? Allen L. Jones (he claims the L stands for Liberty), Zao Wang, and none other than Lutz Beilschmidt stood in the middle of a group of girls, dressed as... holy shit, are they dressed as the Powerpuff Girls?

"Oh my god their shorts are so... short!" Emma giggled, "You can see every muscle..."

"When did the Powerpuff Girls get so slutty," You scoffed, itching under your fake grey beard. "...and buff."

"I see Lutz hasn't changed a bit," Darcy snorted, "Still as much of a manwhore as ever."

"I still can't believe he played you like that." Emma grimaced.

"Like a fiddle." You added in.

"Let's not revisit that..." Darcy dragged her hands down her face.

As Emma and Darcy got caught up in drinks and boys, you found yourself needing a breath of fresh air. Maybe if you were drinking right now, or at least a little tipsy, you might be able to deal with the sight of Allen showing off his biceps to four women. The backyard wasn't really that much better—toilet paper strung through the trees, the blaring music still within hearing, and a random couple making out behind a bush—but it was an improvement. You sat on the wooden steps of the deck, itching under your beard again. You hoped it wouldn't leave a rash...

“Merlin?”

“Huh?” You turned your head to be met with... Of course! Lutz! Probably the last person you wanted to see right now.

“Gandalf?”

“Oh, uh, more like… unlicensed no copyright generic wizard character…” You turned back forwards, praying he would go away.

“Gotcha, my favorite.” He sat next to you. Great!

"Shouldn't you be, ya know, whoring out?" You snorted, glancing at him as his face distorted into an amused grin.

"Hey, I'm not all slut. I need breaks from the noise too sometimes." He nudged you, “I don't think I’ve seen you around.”

“Oh, we actually have the same world history class-" Unfortunately. "-with Professor Neilson?" He stared at you owlishly, "Here, wait, maybe removing the beard will help.”

You pulled down the itchy beard and Lutz drank in your facial features. Scrunching up your face, you removed it completely and tossed it on the steps beside you.

“Oh, now I recognize you!" He smiled, before letting it morph into a more sheepish expression, "…Can I get a name though orrrrr…”

"...Y/n." You exhaled through your nose, turning away from him. "Don't worry, I already know your name."

"I'm glad!" He grinned broadly, "Introductions were never my favorite."

"..."

“Sooo... Can I get you a drink?

“I’m actually the designated driver so I’ll pass.”

“Ah, respectable. Maybe something non-alcoholic then?”

“Actually I probably should be getting home to my, uh, my fairy godmother.” You internally facepalmed, god you were mixing up your fairytales. “Like in uh, Cinderella.”

“I didn't know unlicensed no copyright generic wizard character was a Cinderella character.” Lutz snorted,

“He’s from a remake, Cinder…wizard… It’s really popular overseas.” You checked your nonexistent watch, “Oops, clock is about to strike twelve.”

"Is your fake beard the Cinderwizard version of a glass slipper?" He chuckled, eliciting a genuine giggle from you—god you were gonna have to shoot yourself later.

"Sure, but it's stretchy so it's probably more like a one size fits all.

“Well… seeing as I know what you look like and where to find you, I’d say I'm a few steps ahead of Prince Charming.”

“Yeah, ‘I know where to find you’ isn’t creepy at all.”

“Sorry,” He laughed airily, “I’ll see you around then.”

You quickly excused yourself and hurriedly walked back into the party to meet with Emma and Darcy .

"Was that Lutz? Why was Lutz talking to you?" Darcy inquired, hushedly but urgently.

"He was just asking for bathroom directions!" You made up an excuse.

"Isn't this... his frat house?" Emma raised a brow.

"Okay, okay, listen. He just- He just came over and he wouldn't leave and then told me he knew where to find me and- I don't know it was torture!" You whined.

"God, don't tell me you're his next victim..." Darcy shivered, "We need to keep you away from him, at all costs."

"Y/n L/n and Lutz Beilschmidt..." Professor Neilson continued to announce the pairs for a group project, and you felt like you were dying inside. Lutz's head popped up from his resting place on his desk.

"No way." You said in unison (though one was obviously far more excited than the other), and you glanced at him to see him grinning widely at you.

The moment class was dismissed and students began funneling out you made your way to Professor Neilson's desk with some very strong words and a lot of questions.

"Professor, not to question your judgment but why was I paired up with Lutz?" You frowned.

"I think you'll be a good influence on him-"

"But-"

"-and he isn't a slacker so you won't be doing the project alone. You and Beilschmidt need to work together, just for this week." He said, sternly as he turned back to the various papers spread across his desk.

"C'mon, don't tell me you're trying to get rid of me already." A very familiar German accent purred behind you, an arm—a muscular arm but you tried not to go there—slung around your shoulder.

"Of course not, partner." You grimaced. "You smell like beer..."

"Sorry, süße, I'll wear cologne when we study."

You shrugged off his arm with a groan, walking out of the classroom as Lutz trailed behind you. He easily kept up with your speedy strides, damn him for being so tall and quick on his feet, you were hoping all that muscle would weigh him down.

...You really have to stop thinking about his muscular build.

"Hey, wait, I thought we got off on the right foot." Lutz continued following you like a lost puppy until you turned around and glared straight at him.

"Listen, Lutz, I know a little too well what kind of guy you are and I really don't want to get involved so can you please just..." You sighed, "Just do your part and let's not get buddy-buddy."

"Hey, I was looking forwards to getting buddy-buddy..." He huffed, "Listen, Y/n, I know I have a reputation but that doesn't mean we can't be friendly, I mean c'mon, give me a fair chance."

You glanced between him and the crowd of students trailing the hallways, groaning as you gave in.

"Fine. But make one wrong move and I'm out."

"He's your what?" Emma gasped.

"My history project partner..." You whined, "I cannot believe Professor Neilson would do that to me, I mean come on I thought I was his star student. Why is he torturing me with Lutz."

"Not my monkey, not my circus." Darcy snorted, "You're on your own here."

"How did you get rid of him, Darcy?" You pleaded.

"I liked him." She sighed.

"Oh... Right..." You let your face fall into your arms, "God I'm never gonna shake him, am I?"

"She's your what?" Allen snorted.

"My history project partner!" Lutz fist-pumped, "God, I thought Neilson was a hardass but he really hooked me up this time."

"She is kinda bad," Zao smirked, "You gonna... ya know..."

"She said no getting buddy-buddy but, well, you know me," Lutz smirked, Allen and Zao whistling and cheering. "I mean... I dunno, maybe I won't go too far with her..."

"What? Are you going soft on us, buddy?" Allen cackled.

"Hey man, shes not really like other girls ya know, she didn't really fold fast at all. I kinda wanna see where it'll go..."

"'Not like other girls' is wild," Zao snorted, "she's gonna end up like every single one of them did, in your bed. Or mine. Might snatch her up since you're hesitating~."

"I mean it, I kind of... like her. I don't really want to make her into another fling.." Lutz leaned back in his chair, groaning. "God, what am I gonna do..."

Lutz had been studying with you every day this week, and you don't think you've ever seen him this dedicated to the class itself. When he could, he would invite you to his place—goofily kicking aside the stray socks and boxers left strung across the floor by his roommates—but when he couldn't, you would study on campus.

Today, however, it was raining.

Lutz (yuck) 3:42 Y/N lemme just come to your dorm pls my place is busy rn zao is dealiong drugs or smth ‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ Y/n3:43 no we can study tomorrow you're not coming in my dorm stay away far away ‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ Lutz (yuck) 3:43 P[LEASE ill be on my bestest behavior trust

You gave in eventually.

"-and in retaliation, they..." You glanced up at Lutz, scooting away a bit. "You're this close to sitting on me, dude."

"Sorry, the words are so small, I can't read them..." He slowly grinned, "Hey, maybe you should sit on me, süße-"

"Don't even start, Lutz." You groaned, punching him lightly as he practically giggled beside you.

"It smells great in here, what is that, vanilla?" He sniffed.

"I think my roommate has a candle in the bathroom," You said, "but I think its lavendar so I'm not sure where youre getting vanilla."

He hummed, and though you couldnt see it, he was staring at you as your rattled on about some random history thingy—he wasnt really listening in the first place. Lutz had grown a soft spot to you, much to Allen and Zao's amusement, it had gotten so bad he was turning down girls. Lutz Beilschmidt was turning down girls. He was whipped, but he was too lovesick to be ashamed.

You flipped the page gently, but Lutz reached over and flipped it back. When you looked up at him, his face was hovering inches away from yours and he was practically drowning himself in your eyes.

"I wasn't- I wasn't done reading." His voice came out low, his tone intimate even.

God, what was happening to you?

Charcoal nuzzled into your neck as you leaned back in Lutz's beanbag chair. He pouted at you from his desk chair.

"Charcoal doesn't even do that with me."

"What can I say, he must just like me more." You smirked, sticking your tongue out at Lutz as you rubbed the top of Charcoal's head.

"Maybe you're like his mom." Lutz grinned, "Which since I'm his dad that would mean-"

You threw his dirty socks at him.

Emma and Darcy were supportive of you, even if they did think you were a little stupid for falling for Lutz (though, Emma meant stupid in an endearing, cute way!). However, sometimes you wondered if Darcy was jealous, and sometimes it seemed like she was. When you were talking to Lutz in the hallways, him begging you to come hang out with him with the saddest puppy-dog eyes Darcy had ever seen, her browline creased and her lips downturned. When Lutz was texting you, begging for your attention, Darcy was glaring at your phone screen. When you were complaining about Lutz being a little too comfortable, Darcy was bitterly making comments like "must be hard" and "poor you".

"I was gonna go to a party at Theta Theta this weekend." Darcy said as she scrolled through her phone, "You guys wanna come with?"

"Isn't that Lutz's frat house?" Emma said, bobbypin in mouth as she braided your hair, "Ya know, the guy Y/n is head over heels for?"

"I am not head over heels for Lutz-!"

"I'm not letting that loser stop me from partying," Darcy grinned, giggling, "Plus, it gives little miss Y/n a chance to meet someone new~."

"Oooh!" Emma giggled, "We can find you a man to make Lutz jealous!"

"Guys I cannot believe youre trying to rope me into doing that in his god damn house, are you kidding me?" You griped, "I am not going."

You sipped lightly on a hard lemonade, the blaring music echoing through your ears as you looked through the crowd for any sign of Lutz.

(Yes, you gave in)

Since arriving, you had lost Darcy in the crowd and hadn't seen a single glimpse of the fluffy blonde hair you were so familiar with. Emma suggested going up to his room, teasing you and saying you might've made him retire from his partying ways. You rolled your eyes, but carefully made your way up the stairs anyway. Immediately, you saw Lutz exiting his room, looking a bit dishevelled but, hey, he's a frat boy. You smiled widely as you went up to greet him.

You never made it to him.

No one other than Darcy, your best friend since before highschool, walked out of his room behind him. Her lipstick was smeared and her hair messy. She barely spared you a glance before wrapping her grimy hands around Lutz's bicep.

"Babe, come back~."

You and Emma drove home in silence. Emma was horrified at the news, you could hear her acrylics tapping away at her phone screen and you could only imagine the shit storm that Darcy was getting. Your own phone was blowing up, actually, and you had to put it on do not disturb to be able to focus on driving at all. The threat of breaking down and crying pricked at your eyes and made your nose feel ticklish, you felt ill, and you stomach wouldn't stop doing backflips.

When Darcy said you lose Lutz by liking him, she wasn't lying.

At the same time as you were fighting a breakdown, Lutz was cussing out a very smug Darcy.

"Holy shit what is wrong with you?" He scolded, "I'm sorry that I didn't like our fling and I'm not in love with you, but you are some kind of evil for doing this to your best friend. Like jesus fucking christ, what are you even getting from this?"

"Come on Lutz, we were better than whatever you had going on with her, she could never-"

"Don't even finish that thought." He spat, "Get out of my god damn house."

You were awoken from your sleep by pitiful, desperate pleas at your door. You heard the frantic knocking, the begging and crying and whining, and you knew who was behind it. You rubbed your eyes, still puffy from crying yourself to sleep, and checked your notifications.

Lutz <32:13 A.M. please its not what it looks like i know thats like a stupid overused excuse but its not an excuse darcy told me she wanted to talk to me about something she set it all up please i dont want anyone else

Lutz <3 2:43 A.M. please respond pick up my calls i swear to god Y/n i promise nothing was going on i'm not like that i swear

You snorted at his texts, he was saying every excuse, using every cliché line that people use when they get caught.

"Y/n I know you're in there I just want to talk I swear nothing was happening," As you walked closer to your door you heard Lutz bang his head against the other side, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, please just let me explain."

When you opened the door he stumbled in, his face painted in shock and sadness and relief all at once, and the moment he laid eyes on your pitiful expression he looked like the wind had just been taken out of him. He tried to place his hands on the sides of your face to wipe your tears, but you gently pushed his hands away by the wrists and stepped back.

"Y/n..."

"You have 10 minutes to explain." You sniffled. "And then I'm kicking you out for being a dirty, lying, unfaithful asshat!"

"No! No, nonono, I wasn't unfaithful nothing ever happened I swear. On my life, my brothers life, my mother, father, cat, on everything important to me I swear to you that nothing happened between me and Darcy." He pleaded, "When you guys got to the party I was just hanging out in my room, watching videos, you know how it is. Darcy had knocked on my door and I- I went to open it and she just walked in like she owned the place. It was gross she was acting like we're super close and she was all flirty and it-

"Either way, she was trying to be all handsy and I had pushed her off and stepped out and that when you came up the stairs. She just came out after me and I knew it looked so bad and I didn't know what to say and-"

Were his eyes glossing over?

"Look, look at my texts with her and- and you can see that there really isnt anything going on and I swear you're the only person I want. I don't even have her number saved in my phone, Y/n, she's nothing to me."

You snatched his phone, scrolling through countless texts of Lutz being so irreversibly angry and distraught while Darcy simply defended her actions. You checked her number, it was really Darcy, and you felt fat tears roll down your cheeks.

"Oh my god you're telling the truth." You sobbed as you launched forwards into his chest.

He smelled a little woody and his shirt still smelled like laundry detergent and yeah there was an underlying hint of alcohol but it wasn't nearly as strong as it was the day you became his project partner. You melted into him as he rubbed his (rather large) hands over your back, calloused fingers wrapping around your arm as he brought you closer and closer to him and if it weren't literally impossible you thought you might have ended up merging with him. He kissed the crown of your head, muttering words of reassurance and affection.

Lifting your head up, he wiped the tears away from your face and brushed your hair behind your ears. He gently caressed your cheeks, letting his fingers dance over every detail of your cheek and jaw before shakily bringing himself closer and closer to you until his lips met yours and you melted into each other with so much passion and affection you thought you might drown

"I think I'm in love with you."

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heyiwrotesomethings · 2 years

Text

She’s The Housekeeper Prt8: Penguin Park

Yor Briar/ Forger x She/ Her Reader

A/N: Prt7 Prt9 Here is the big chapter! I’m planning to do at least one more chapter to bring in Bond but after that I think I’ll be done with this story. I hope you all like this chapter! Thank you for reading! Word Count: 4,515

Another night filled with assignments.

Loid could hardly make it into the apartment building, he was that tired. For as much as HQ wanted him to continue this perfect family charade, they were not making it very easy for him to do so.

As he shuffled into the apartment complex, his ears perked up when he heard voices further down the hall. It was the neighbors again, and what they were saying stopped him cold in his tracks.

“That man from across the hall is working late again I see.” One snidely remarked, earning a round of acknowledging huffs from the other women.

“That poor little girl must feel so neglected. I rarely see the three of them together.”

“Yes, and don’t even get me started on the live-in housekeeper!”

All the women voiced exasperated sounds of agreement before diving in on the topic anyway. Loid stuck close to the wall and continued to listen in.

“So he’s definitely having an affair with her, right?”

Loid nearly choked.

“I wouldn’t be surprised. He seems the type. With how often he’s out god-knows-where, he’s probably got a handful of mistresses to hop between.

Hardly. Loid’s eye twitched and he rubbed at his face while still listening to the assassination of his character, and then (Y/n)’s as well.

“She is so antisocial!” One piped up, “She seems like a nice young woman on the surface, but whenever I offer to introduce her to the strapping young men in my family, she turns up her nose. Seems she only has an eye for married men who can fill her bank account.”

Loid covered his mouth in surprise. These women were ruthless in their gossip. If (Y/n) had heard any of this, he could only imagine how furious she would be, not to mention how Yor would feel as well. Even he was beyond offended on her behalf, but he couldn’t exactly cut in and tell them off, that would probably do more harm than good.

“Maybe he lost his job and he’s too embarrassed to go home?” Another speculated, “Can’t bear to face his heartbroken wife and money grubbing mistress without a paycheck.”

Loid’s hands fell to his sides in fists. He had been careless it seemed. He had been so busy with his other missions, that he had neglected his role here, and now rumors were flying like crazy. He’d have to do something about that, and soon. If it blew into some bigger conspiracy that got to the school, he hated to think how that would affect Anya.

Of course Anya knew that their family was… unconventional, she seemed to know that she probably shouldn’t call (Y/n) mama in public, even if she forgot at times. Loid could only imagine how the high society parents would object and cause a scene and how cruel their children could be as well once they heard... Loid couldn’t let Anya be exposed to such bigoted attitudes.

He slunk back from the hall and ran swiftly up the stairs to their apartment door, startling the trio coloring in the living room with his hasty entrance.

“We’re going out next weekend!” He declared, then directed his attention to Anya, “Where do you want to go?”

“Uh, Loid? You should sit down. You look ill.” (Y/n) suggested.

“Yes, you should get some rest.” Yor agreed.

“Ah, is that a penguin?” Loid asked, ignoring the two women to observe Anya’s drawing, “Let’s go to the aquarium then!”

(Y/n) and Yor shared a puzzled look, before Yor addressed Loid again.

“Not that I wouldn’t enjoy an outing, but what is this about?”

“We need to do everything we can to keep looking like a normal, happy family to keep up the appearances of our pretend marriage. An outing is just what we need.”

“Anya’s excited!”

“Then it’s settled.” Loid nodded with a smile.

The evening was mostly normal from there, until Anya was put to bed. Loid was honestly a bit fearful about explaining to Yor and (Y/n) what he had heard (minimal details of course), but even more so he was afraid of what he needed to ask of (Y/n) during that outing.

“Are you serious?” (Y/n) spoke tightly, her tone unusually high, “They really think you and I—?!”

“That is what I heard.” Loid affirmed, interlacing his fingers and rubbing his thumbs together.

“An affair! I can’t believe it!” She quietly screamed while Yor blinked owlishly at her side, still processing the accusation.

“They couldn’t be more wrong! …Well, actually, they are kind of right… but they’ve put together the wrong people!” (Y/n) ranted as she paced the room. She crossed her arms and turned on her heel to stalk towards Loid.

“So this is what the outing is for, right? For you three to go out and look like the perfect family to make them think we aren’t being… intimate?” (Y/n) shuddered at the word in that context.

“Yes, but… (Y/n), I was hoping you would come too.”

“That would look bad one hundred percent, Loid.” (Y/n) shook her head. “Or if you think you’ll ease suspicion by having me dressed up in that stupid uniform while I haul your souvenirs behind you all day, you can go—“

“No, no, of course that’s not what I’m suggesting, but what I am asking you to do won’t be easy nevertheless.”

“What is it?” Yor tentatively asked.

Loid sighed, and rubbed at the back of his neck.

“Remember my friend, Franky?”

“Yeah, what about him?” (Y/n) asked warily.

“Could you please pretend to be on a date with him when we go to the aquarium?”

Yor’s mouth fell open in surprise, nearly breaking her neck with how fast she turned to look at (Y/n) and Loid braced himself for yelling, but (Y/n) was deathly quiet, expressionless. Somehow that was worse.

(Y/n) took in a few deep breaths through her nose, releasing one long, final breath before looking back to Loid with irritated and tired eyes.

“He knows it’s just pretend, right?”

“Of course.”

“And how long do we have to keep it up?”

“It will be most important to time an introduction with some of the neighbors in the hallway before we leave, after that, you two can treat it like any casual outing once we are there. We may have to plan similar outings in the future though…”

Yor’s head whipped back and forth like she was watching a tennis match. (Y/n) wasn’t really agreeing to having a fake boyfriend, was she? Rationally, Yor knew that if Loid was suggesting it, it was probably necessary, and it wasn’t like the relationship would be any more real than her fake marriage, but the idea of her partner going on a date with someone else made her feel the need to snap some bones to fight off the uncomfortable burning in her chest.

“I swear this just keeps getting more and more convoluted.” (Y/n) groaned, sitting down hard on the couch beside Yor who watched her intently, “I trust that you wouldn’t be bringing this up if you had any other options, so I’ll do it, but I swear Loid, if this lie keeps evolving like this I can’t imagine we will be able to keep up with it for very long.”

“I know.” Loid nodded solemnly.

“Um,” Yor cleared her throat, grasping at (Y/n)’s sleeve, “are you sure you want to do this, darling? I’m sure we could find another way.”

“As long as those old biddies see me as some untethered, marriage killing floozy, there really isn’t anything else we can do. As long as they think there is an affair going on, our family image will continue to appear tarnished.”

Yor frowned, sucking in her lower lip. (Y/n) stroked her hand comfortingly.

“It’ll be no different from the pretend marriage you and Loid have. You don’t have to look so concerned.” She promised, trying to ease Yor’s mind with a smile.

But it would be different. Yor didn’t think she could handle being in the position that (Y/n) had been in ever since this pretend marriage began. Watching on as her lover walked beside someone else, holding their hand... the burning in Yor’s chest grew hotter. (Y/n) was far stronger than her when it came to these things it would seem.

“If you’re certain.” Yor murmured.

(Y/n) squeezed Yor’s hand and brought her attention back to Loid.

“We’re going to need a story.”

“Right.”

***

“Loid, are you sick?”

“Maybe we should postpone?” Yor asked, ashamedly hopeful.

Loid shook his head as he fumbled with his sunglasses. He wasn’t sick, just severely sleep deprived from speeding through all of his missions that week to make this work. He couldn’t back out now. Especially not when Anya was so excited.

“I’m perfectly fine,” he said, staring down hard at his watch. He wiped his sleeve over the face to clean what he thought must have been a smudge, but it was still blurry. Nevermind, Franky would probably be up to meet them soon and he could already hear the neighbors gossiping in the hall so it was go time.

“Fall out, Forgers’,” he ordered, grasping the doorknob successfully on the second try and opening the door to let Anya run excitedly into the hall with Yor and (Y/n) following after her.

“Oh, Forgers’!” One of the neighbors blinked in surprise at seeing the family together, then her eyes found (Y/n) in her casual wear. She gave (Y/n) a tight smile, “And Ms. (L/n), of course.”

“Good morning,” (Y/n) waved, smile just as insincere.

“It’s rare to see you all together. What is the occasion?” One of the other neighbors asked.

“We’re going to the aquarium.” Loid shared.

“Oh, all of you?” The woman asked, side-eying (Y/n).

“Miss Anya insisted,” (Y/n) chuckled politely, “I couldn’t refuse, especially once my boyfriend caught wind of the idea. Ah, here he comes now.”

“Hello, my darling! Ah, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”

Everyone followed (Y/n)’s gaze to Franky as he strode up the hallway towards them with a big smile on his face.

“Oh stop it, you just saw me yesterday.” (Y/n) said with faux embarrassment.

It was true, they had seen each other yesterday, and just about every day that week to get their story straight for today. (Y/n) had dreaded it initially, but Franky was easy to get along with, a bit of a scamp, but a good guy.

“You know me,” Franky grinned cheekily, kissing the back of (Y/n)’s hand, “even a minute without you is a minute too long.” He winked.

(Y/n) smiled wryly in response before sharing her well-crafted and practiced introductions. Easily meeting every prying question with tactful responses, sometimes letting Franky take the reins as well to really send the message home that they were definitely a couple.

They had decided they had been together for a year and a half, a long distance relationship because of Franky’s job. Hence why he wasn’t around. Not to mention how unprofessional it would be for (Y/n) to have her boyfriend over while she worked. The neighbors ate up the simple reserved, responsible young woman act she peddled with a spoon. She could see their view of her slowly change before her eyes.

“Oh dear, why didn’t you say you were being courted by this sweet man before?”

Ah yes, (Y/n) didn’t forget about Mrs. Matchmaker, who apparently decided awhile ago that, ‘No thank you, I’m not looking for a relationship,’ translated to, ‘I’m having too much fun chasing after a married man to meet your stupid nephew.’.

“My (Y/n) can be so shy, it’s incredible,” Franky chuckled while (Y/n) hid half of her face behind her hand and adverted her eyes, “she gets so nervous around people sometimes that she probably didn’t even think to mention me. Don’t worry, dear. I’m not hurt.”

“Franky!” (Y/n) quietly admonished, turning away.

She heard the neighbor women chuckle knowingly and rolled her eyes hard at the wall. If being a corpse cleaner stopped paying, perhaps she could try her hand at acting.

“As entertaining as this is, we had better be on our way,” Loid said, sensing it was a good time to wrap up, “good seeing you.”

“Oh yes, have a good day then.”

“Say hello to the penguins for me, little Miss Anya.”

“Good talking with you all.”

“Oh we nailed that.” (Y/n) smiled smugly as soon as they all piled into the car. Loid and Franky in the front while she, Yor and Anya sat in the back.

“You almost even had me convinced.” Franky turned to face her with a grin. “You sure you don’t want to have a nice, romantic dinner with me?”

“Pfft, yeah I’m busy that day.”

“I didn’t even say when!”

“Mhm, as I said. Busy.” (Y/n) laughed, Franky pouted but joined in soon after.

Yor’s smile was stiff as she tried to busy herself by looking out the window. Try as she might to remind herself that their relationship was an act, it still worried her that (Y/n) and Franky seemed to get along despite the circumstances. The sooner they could go back to their normal routine, the better, but she would still try to enjoy the day and not think about feeding Franky to the crabs and other bottom feeders piece by piece for placing his lips even just against the skin of (Y/n)’s hand. She didn’t know how (Y/n) made it until Yuri crossed the line before breaking down.

Loid parked near the subway station and everyone piled out of the car. While they waited for the train to pull into the station, Loid took drink requests and Franky went with him to be an extra pair of hands.

Yor watched fondly as (Y/n) and Anya guessed what kind of animals they would see. Her momentary mental tranquility was quickly brought down as the men made their return.

“M’lady,” Franky bowed, presenting (Y/n) with her drink.

“Thank you, my good sir.” (Y/n) gave a mock curtesy in return.

When it came time to board the train, Yor couldn’t help but maneuver in such a way that guaranteed the spot in the booth beside (Y/n), leaving as little space between them as possible.

“How are you holding up?” (Y/n) whispered.

“Hm?” Yor feigned ignorance, but she wasn’t fooling her partner in the slightest.

“Hey,” (Y/n) whispered under her breath, though Loid, Franky and Anya were well engrossed in their penguin talk and no one else in the subway car seemed to be paying them any mind, “I love you, you know.”

“I know…” Yor worried the hem of her sleeve between her fingers.

“Try to enjoy the aquarium. Then we can cuddle up with some hot cocoa when we get home.”

Yor managed a small smile and nodded. She did like the sound of that. Loid did say the hard part was behind them since they put on their show for the neighbors. Now they could just relax and enjoy the day.

Unfortunately, none of them had foreseen running into more of their nosey neighbors at the aquarium.

“Oh Forgers and…?”

(Y/n) sighed inwardly and stepped up beside Franky to make introductions again. Once everyone was aquatinted, Loid clapped his hands together, ready to move on from the other group and get to his mission, but Yor spoke up instead.

“Why don’t you join us? The more the merrier, right?”

(Y/n) and Loid only just barely managed to hide their shock and disbelief while the neighbors eagerly agreed to the plan. This was the last thing Yor wanted to do, believe her, but if they needed more opportunities to present themselves like a real family to get these people off of their backs, then so be it. If they needed to appear normal, they needed to be more chummy with their neighbors in situations like this, even if that meant…

“Let’s go look at the penguins, my dear. I know how much you love them!” Franky beamed, interlocking his elbow with (Y/n)’s.

Yor’s smile twitched. Franky was much too eager to continue the charade for her liking.

“Yes, starting with the penguins sounds perfect. Is that alright with everyone?” Loid asked, receiving murmured approvals in reply.

Yor could at least take solace in how much Anya was enjoying herself. However, it didn’t take very long before Loid said he needed to get more drinks and left. Then Franky slapped his hands against the enclosure guardrail.

“I got it! (Y/n), come with me!”

“Huh? But—“

Franky pulled (Y/n) away and the neighbors chuckled at their antics while Yor bared down harder on the guard rail to try to keep her sudden bloodlust at bay. Where was Franky taking her (Y/n)? Why was Loid so thirsty today? And where was Anya going—

And where was Anya going?

“Miss Anya, wait!”

But she had already disappeared into the crowd. Yor turned her head every which way, looking for any of the other adults

who were supposed to be responsible for this child along with her, but saw none of them. It looked like she was on her own.

“Excuse me,” she chuckled awkwardly, leaving the neighbors behind. Hopefully this wouldn’t reflect too badly on them.

Meanwhile, (Y/n) watched on as Franky tried name after name to win a giant penguin plush. After the next failed attempt left the man with his head in his hands (Y/n) chimed in,

“Why are you doing this anyway?”

“Why am I doing this? (Y/n), don’t you know how dates are supposed to go? If I win this thing and give it to you, that’s like, a bazillion happily dating couple points!”

“I don’t think we need to worry about it that much. We’ve already done a pretty convincing job. Just breaking off from the group like this is probably filling their heads with all kinds of ideas.” (Y/n) tried not to think too hard on that.

Also, (Y/n) actually wanted to enjoy all of what the aquarium had to offer. Anya looked so cute running around to visit all of the exhibits. She wanted to be a part of that, not be stuck at this booth all day.

Another wrong guess, she sighed inwardly and gave Franky a sympathetic shrug which was met with gearing up for another guessing attempt. She hoped Yor was enjoying herself at least. Hopefully Loid didn’t take to long getting back so he could distract her from her absence.

Yor was not enjoying herself, but she wasn’t worried about (Y/n) at that moment either.

“Miss Anya? Where did you go, Miss Anya?” Yor called out in between asking passers by if they had seen a little pink-haired girl.

Oh dear, where did she go? When was Loid going to come back? Why did Franky have to steal (Y/n) away? She needed help!

“Mama!”

Yor perked up and turned around. Immediate relief washed over her as Anya come into view in another hallway. That relief was quickly replaced with concern once she saw she was on the coattails of a stranger. Anya hastily yelled,

“Mama, I’m being kidnapped!”

Yor’s expression became steely as she began her pursuit. She caught up quickly and spun Anya into her protective embrace with dizzying speed. Glaring hard at the man, her foot found home under his jaw.

“What are you are doing to my daughter?!” She yelled, the force she exerted rocketed him through a ceiling tile, lodging his head within, his legs still dangling in plain view.

“Wow.” Anya blinked, watching the man’s legs sway.

‘Oh no, I definitely over did it! I hope he’s not dead!’ Yor whined to herself.

She would need to find (Y/n) to help her take care of the corpse if that was the case. At least then they could be alone together.

“Are you alright, Miss Anya?”

“Mhm, thank you mama.” This would definitely help Anya’s papa with his mission.

“Ahhh, you had me so worried,” Yor sighed, resting her head atop Anya’s while she held her in her arms, “Let’s get back to the group now.”

“Okay mama.”

Yor was disappointed to see that (Y/n) had yet to return and surprisingly, neither had Loid. She put on the most convincing smile she could and apologized to the neighbors for the Forgers’ sudden scattering.

“Oh don’t worry about it dear.” One of the older women assured.

“It can’t be easy raising a little one. Especially when your husband hasn’t come back at all yet… he must be cheating on you. Who takes this long to get a drink?”

“How awful.” The other agreed.

“Um,” Yor felt strangely guilty that Loid was the one under all of this scrutiny when she was the one technically having an affair, “That’s not…“

“Yor, sorry I took so long.”

Everyone turned to see Loid walking up with a giant stuffed penguin in his arms, and a bitter looking Franky and a bored (Y/n) flanking him as they walked up.

“Taadaaa.” Loid smiled, presenting the plush to Anya.

“Penguin!” Anya joyously cheered, hugging the penguin that was twice her size.

“Wow, so cute! Where did you get that?” Yor asked.

“It was a prize from a penguin guessing game. Once I saw it, I knew I had to win it for Anya. I played over and over until I got it right. I lost track of the time though, sorry I was gone so long,” he added sheepishly.

Everyone else ate that up, except for Anya of course and then Franky further distracted from the group’s previous topic by adding his grievances.

“I can’t believe while I was working so hard to win that penguin for my lady, you were standing somewhere amongst the crowd, waiting to take away all my glory!”

“Miss Anya will take better care of that penguin than I ever could.” (Y/n) assured. She only wished Loid could have guessed correctly faster to save her from standing in place. She watched the nearby tropical fish exhibit for so long, she could probably draw out a prefect replica.

“Wow, you’re a better father than I thought.” One of the women blinked, mildly impressed.

“Oh, thank you.” Loid smiled.

‘I wouldn’t thank someone for a “complement” like that.’ (Y/n) thought to herself as she bit her tongue in an effort to keep any snark she held to herself. She turned to watch Yor and Anya play with the stuffed penguin and felt more at peace.

“I’m just a simple father trying to keep my footing as I protect my happy little family.” Loid spoke tenderly, working his magic on the middle-aged women.

Looks like today had worked out after all.

“Let’s go see the dolphin show!” Anya was already lugging the penguin towards the exhibit.

“Good idea!” (Y/n) agreed, happy to finally see more of what the aquarium had to offer.

“Come on, Forger! Speed it up!” Franky teased, fully aware of the antics Loid had been up to all day.

“Can we slow down a bit maybe?” Loid asked. The poor man was crashing faster than an airplane out of fuel.

Still, he wouldn’t trade this moment of peace for anything in the world. He’d enjoy every second of it.

***

Anya was enjoying her morning after her busy day at the aquarium yesterday, by showing her penguin around their ‘hideout’.

“This is agent papa, he can do anything.” She explained to the penguin as she moved around the living room.

“And this is agent mama, she’s super strong, but bad at everything else.”

“Am I that much of a failure?” Yor bemoaned.

“Of course not darling, you are good at plenty of things.” (Y/n) assured as she prepared breakfast in the kitchen.

“And that is agent mama, not to be confused with other agent mama, she keeps the hideout squeaky clean and makes the yummiest food. The three of them together are Anya’s most trusted lackeys.” Anya nodded to herself, a pleased smile upon her lips. Then she continued on her path, dragging the penguin behind her.

She was running out of places to visit. She knew she shouldn’t be in their rooms without permission… but it was much too tempting for the little girl.

“The most top-secret rooms of the hideout. Papa and the mamas’ rooms.”

What wonders could she stumble upon in her spy father’s room or her assassin mother’s room? Special knives? Bombs? Acid? Her fingers barely touched the door knob before she was quickly pulled away, feet dangling off of the ground.

“Hey! Where do you think you’re going?” Loid yelled, more so out of worry for Anya’s well-being than anger. He had a lot of dangerous things in his room after all.

“How many times do I have to tell you to not go in my room without permission?”

The combination of the surprise of being grabbed and the tone of Loid’s voice caused Anya to burst into tears.

“I— Anya, don’t cry. There’s dangerous things like scissors and heaters in there and I don’t want you to hurt yourself.” Loid spoke more softly.

“Yes, you shouldn’t go into mine and (Y/n)’s room either.” Yor added gently. Too many needles and poisons, acids and cleaners. They could probably blow up the whole apartment building if they weren’t stored properly.

“Papa and mama, I hate you both!” Anya wailed, running to the kitchen and hoping for a bit of sympathy from (Y/n). Unfortunately, (Y/n) was in the middle of carrying a scalding hot pan to the plates as Anya ran into her thighs at full speed.

Thankfully, (Y/n)’s grip and balance stayed firm, but the scare of almost dumping hot food and oil over the little girl lead (Y/n) to shout,

“Miss Anya! No running in the kitchen, I could have seriously hurt you!” She scolded.

“Anya hates mama too!” Anya bawled, “Anya’s going to run away from home!”

The three adults jolted as if they had been struck by lightning, each feeling more awful the longer Anya cried. (Y/n) tried to console, but Anya kept crying until Loid picked up the Penguin and hid his flushed face in its soft back.

“A-agent Anya, there’s no time for crying. World peace is on the line!” Loid said, speaking in a higher tone that would have had (Y/n) struggling not to laugh if Anya hadn’t just said she hated her twenty seconds ago.

(Y/n) saw Yor grab a robot and followed suit by grabbing Anya’s pink chimera plush.

“L-let’s wrap up the hideout tour and go on our next mission.”

“Yes, let’s go beat the bad guys!” Robot Yor agreed.

“We’ll teach them not to mess with us!” Chimera (Y/n) chimed in.

Anya sniffled, but that seemed to have appeased her. She wiped her nose and commanded the three of them to follow her lead to the candy store.

It was a rather embarrassing outing for Loid, Yor and (Y/n), but to see Anya smile and laugh so happily, it made having to go out in public with toys over their faces and silly voices leading to giggling strangers worth it.

#spy family x reader #spy x family x reader #yor briar x reader #yor forger x reader #yor x reader #yor briar #yor forger

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kerorowhump · 10 months

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Hi! You once mentioned your headcanon of Keroro being jealous of Giroro and Dororo, could you talk more about that? It sounds interesting!

hiiii thank you for the ask ヾ( ˃ᴗ˂ )◞ • *✰

for me to do that I have to put a big fat disclaimer upfrond and say that obviously, since I haven't finished watching the show yet, I haven't seen every single instance of this chibi trio interacting. secondly, I wanna be clear that this is based on vibes.

to me it's a headcanon that was born from multiple small things, I first got it while looking through the daisyugo books, as I noticed that more often than not, their dynamic ended up looking like... keroro as the black sheep being scolded by giroro who (rightfully!) defends dororo, and when not that, keroro acting out in stupid ways to get attention (and sometimes getting that scolding too), but more often than not, it seems the pair that actually got along without problems was dororo and giroro, and three's often a crowd. After noticing these "vibes" from the 4komas, I started thinking more indepth about episode 64, and the specific memory that triggers keroro. they had seen countless ones so far that day, so it was (and is) important to me to see just why that one was different. it's, to me, undeniable proof that the friendship was genuine from dororo's part, but more specifically the fact that it was him self sabotaging it that soured it. it was being believed and treated with kindness despite his constant selfishness.

which then makes me think more about, you know... where does this selfishness come from? first of all, again, as a motivator for this headcanon, the fox and the grapes... focusing on yourself is often a response when you think others won't, if you perhaps perceive a level of distance (more vibes on that later), it also makes for a nice parallel with keroro+kogoro and dororo, as I do equally headcanon that he was jealous of that friendship! it also makes their relationship sweetly tragic in a way if, you know, all they wanted WAS to be friends but they keep failing each other because of their complex situations, and of course, because of keron interference.

as much as I like the headcanon that much of the trauma dororo has in regards to keroro is also projection about all the horrible shit he went through with the army and being an assassin etc, I think it can extend so much more, I think their society fucked all of them up (and failed them).

when it comes to keroro... well... ok, I hope i'm not ridiculously wrong about this lol, but my vibes make me believe that keroro's always had a secret. I've talked about this before, I'm of course talking about that whole "I was hospitalized for a long time" deal, the fact we (or just me? - I hope not lol) don't know what motivated him as a child to conquer pekopon so much, the fact we don't know how he was able to obtain the keron star, or what he had to sacrifice for it. the specifics are not important rn (mostly because no one knows them fully...) but if we go with the assumption that he's dealt with this secret the whole time, since he was a child, then my first thought there is to reflect on how lonely that must feel. of course, even now as he's an adult, it seems every other plot he's got a complex about being alone - can barely stand it, remember the plots where he ran from home or was left homesitting? - episode 31 (feeling lost and lonely I think are two key factors in this character, that's why to me ep31 is very representative of like... keroro's arc/conflict as a whole) - even stuff like being left behind at home (ep21/that manga plot), not being included in the family (the hot spring plot with the rubiks cube), his friends n family liking someone else more than him (that one robot replacement plot in the manga...), his whole thing with not meeting expectations, seeking compliments, his whole fear of abandonment I think stems from this deep seated sense of isolation that comes from bearing this secret (or at least, it's a neat headcanon placeholder until I learn of the truth!)

[pictured - some examples of keroro's chronic loneliness ?]

which brings us back to how I think being in this situation and then seeing dororo and giroro get along in spite of your own acting out, would probably make you feel jealous of their closeness

but that is just, like, my headcanon, bro, or at least what i've been cooking in my brain with the information i've gathered so far... do what you will with that...

I hope this was a satisfying answer :^) and thank u for the fun ask

#ask #musing #keroro #headcanon #sorry for being insane god made me like this take it up to him

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camping-with-monsters · 6 months

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Oh goodness, how peculiar of a fate for Vasilisa the Unfairly to undergo…

Once a rather simple young girl living under some unfortunate circumstances with an estranged family, Vasilisa was living typically. Along with her she carried a comforting character in a doll she was granted ownership to many years ago before she entered her new life with a new, yet rotten old family. We’d want to hope for an outcome that Vasilisa could have triumphed through and gave them what they had coming, but that outcome was not meant to be in this retelling. The wooden doll was spoken to be a charm, and should she ever depart with it, she would become vulnerable. Most would have laughed if they knew of such thing. But Vasilisa truly believed in the idea. But after an order from her kindred not of her blood, several wrong turns and a misstep left the girl and doll on separate paths by mistake. And the mushrooms of “The Spotlight” took the opportunity to claim the victim with the unfair advantage when the chance was presented, and thus, the girl with all the unfair outcomes piled onto her was left in an even more unfair and ragged state of zombified-like mindlessness, carrying the weight of an assumed horrible form…

Though one may mistake this unfortunate end to be death, Vasilisa is not all gone. How else could the parasites have a host if their host had not at least a little bit of life still burning inside? She’s merely only half-dead. Enough of her life essence remains within the form, but she’s left with quite the protrusions nowadays in an extra arm and what certainly looks like a second head taking on some kind of skull-faced mushroom imagery. Alas (or maybe thankfully) it’s not quite its own thing. Vasilisa seems to be able to maneuver the protrusions as if they were natural to her own body, the growths having just a sliver of personal control. Perhaps those mycelium veins and her own spinal cord intertwined close enough to give her free movement. So even though her body’s weighted over and she mostly walks with a limp saunter, and her voice sounds babbled and incoherent, it’s at least safe to say that she’s become used to this and isn’t suffering. Having surprisingly gotten used to this, she’s found ways to fit in, including even discovering the fiery glow of her own mushrooms.

As for what this means for the strangely Stringmates, narrowly escaping their own dance with death in The Spotlight has captured the interest of Vasilisa’s fungal instincts. Though she doesn’t seem to come off any friendlier than the rest of the aggression they experience there. She’s just as close as the rest of them, it appears. So despite everything, she’s just another assumed obstacle in the way of the Fruit of Rebirth, more adamant than the rest of The Spotlight to bring this trio of disturbance to the ground to decompose with the woods. At least, that’s the easiest conclusion to come to. Perhaps there’s still a chance that isn’t the case. In fact, it’s possible something the Stringmates have been looking for is closer than they realize…

And maybe… something someone else has been looking for, too…

———

HUGE thanks to @pazam for helping pitch this character idea when I was bringing up a potential concept!! I know I’ve posted her before, but here’s the official reference and bio!

She has 2 refs cause I made one to visualize what it looks like when she uses her glowing abilities. Also she does kinda have a problem with her face leaking a lot like snot, spit and tears. It doesn’t hurt her or bother her too badly, sometimes she doesn’t even notice. Maybe spare hee a handkerchief…? Might do the trick.

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sergeantsporks · 2 years

Note

Aroace Hunter Week has gotten off to an amazing start! That Cosmic Frontier fic was awesome and highly relatable to my own experiences with fanfiction in my first fandom! (XD But to make things even worse off for me, my first fandom was a cartoon that revolved around a cast of mostly ten year olds! At least Hunter and Gus's first fandom features a cast of adults, lol.) Also- "LUZ, YOUR LIBRARY IS A DEN OF INACCURACIES AND CHARACTER SLANDER!” sounds memeable, so I hope that it does become a meme!

Lol, yikes, yeah, my “oh. OH.” Moment was when I opened an ot3 fic thinking it meant like. Trios. Friend trios. And getting absolutely blindsided, lol (totally my fault, the fic was very well tagged, but I have the attention span of a goldfish). Luckily the characters talked about sex before the fic actually got to it, so I had warning. And after that, I read tags more carefully and learned to filter!

I think keeping characters in canon character would be very important to Hunter and writing characters ooc would physically hurt him XD

#asks #toh

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ohnohetaliasues · 1 year

Text

Milky Way (APH OC)

At the request of @ilovemaryland345 I’ll be taking a look at a few OCs that they recommended to me. This is one of them. The other is the Confederate States, which I just hope is not as racist as it sounds.

Anyway, let’s get funky.

Milky Way is a small loli-like girl in the universe.

Reservations aside about making an OC for the entire fucking galaxy, why on earth would she be child sized? She’s literally billions of years old. I think a being that is chronologically that old would at least be adult sized.

Her mother would be Galaxy,

Isn’t she the galaxy? She’s her own mother? Excuse me?

and her closest friend, Time.

I don’t even have a proper reaction for that. All I can say is that an OC in Hetalia that is the very concept of time is utterly absurd. She’s her own mother and she is also best friends with Time. Right, got it.

Milky Way is the representation of the Milky Way. Another name for her is Dreamland.

Dreamland.

She-- HUH?

Like I genuinely don’t know what the fuck to say to that. She, who is also the fucking galaxy, is also dreamland? What? How does that work? HOW?

Appearance

Milky Way has dark purple hair with magenta ends. Her eyes are a magenta-pinkish colour, with little hearts in her eyes. Dreamland (It's a nickname, she is often called perfection and perfection can only be achieved in dreams hence the name Dreamland.)

Wow, okay so just. A blatant Mary Sue. Also, no. I’m setting aside the absurdity of this OC for a few seconds to think logically, if that’s possible here.

No Hetalia characters have unnaturally colored hair. They look like the country they represent, as in, what the largest population of people from that nation look like. They can’t even dye their hair. I just-- My brain is hurting. This is not an OC that works in Hetalia.

has her hair in bunches, most like Nyo!Canada's. Her magenta fringe hides most of her forehead. On top, she has a heartlike curl on the side of her head.

Milky Way normally wears pastel goth clothing, mostly like this:[1] (Credit to artist, it's really pretty!)

There was a link there, and the art linked to it is very good, but I removed it, because I’m unsure if that is stolen art or not, and I don’t promote stolen art here on this blog.

Personality

Milky Way is happy and optimistic person, who can be seen as annoying. Not many people are able to see her, and therefore is a dandere.

Okay so that’s just not what a dandere is. A dandere is an antisocial, timid, and shy character who doesn’t express emotions very much. Think Hinata Hyuuga from Naruto or Shigeo Kageyama from Mob Psycho 100. Sure, Mob is cheerful enough, but he’s also not really an expressive person. The personality described above is an oxymoron, is all I’m saying.

She has no social experience outside of the magic trio. Since Italy (Galileo Galilei discovered the Milky Way, and he was from Italy.) had been the one to discover her, she has many traits from him such as being an optimistic person. Her salty side is never really shown, because she isn't fond if being savage like one of her founders. (Romano~).

Um, okay. That’s all I can say. Because I genuinely don’t know how to react to that. Galileo was indeed the first to see the Milky Way through a telescope, so I guess that could be a connection to Italy. However, as far as we know, billions of undiscovered worlds could be somewhere off in the galaxy, and I don’t know if us humans would’ve been the first to observe the galaxy. It just feels odd to me that she’d be so connected to Italy. I guess since he’s one of the main characters in Hetalia, but I dunno, something just bothers me about that.

Backstory/History

Milky Way used to be a depressed little ball of feelings. Her mother Galaxy never really had time for her, and so Milky Way was alone.

SHE IS THE GALAXY. MILKY WAY = GALAXY. IT IS CALLED THE MILKY WAY GALAXY.

(Her appearance at the time: short magenta-pink hair, with emotionless eyes. She was always so dull.)

Wait why the fuck would her appearance change?

One day, she saw the Earth. A small person was smiling up at her, with his telescope. That man was later known as Galileo Galilei. He ran to tell Italy, so was ecstatic. Romano, on the other hand, was not as excited.

Why? Why wouldn’t he think that was cool?

When they came to see, Milky Way felt happy. She felt noticed. It was a nice feeling for her, and the first time she'd ever felt it. The Italies welcomed her with open arms, though she felt a little wistful in the country of Italy. Upon talking to her, the Italies realised she was not of Italia origin and wondered. They took her to the next World Meeting, asking anyone and everyone if they knew her. No one knew her of course, but they were intruiged by her.

Okay so that just doesn’t make any sense. She was discovered by Galileo, and Italy and Romano just assumed she was a part of Italy or of Italian origin? Why? Did Galileo just not tell them anything and let them assume he just found a piece of Italy floating off in space? Are they stupid? Did they physically go into space to speak to her? How did they get a message to her?

This is fucking absurd, and I have so many questions.

Granted that not all of them trusted her or welcomed her with open arms like the Italies, she always loved the countries.

I thought Romano didn’t, but sure, okay.

Now she lives with her mother Galaxy, and comes to visit her good friends.

So the OC creator just is under the impression that the galaxy isn’t the same thing as the Milky Way. Did they mean to make this an OC for the Solar System? Because that would make so much more sense. It would still be silly, but less egregious.

(Italy & Romano, although Southern Italy never really grew found of her...)

But didn’t it just say they welcomed her with open arms? Did Romano just decide to lie about that?

She tries to make friends, but it never really works out.

With who? I mean, there could be some cool things done with this, if she was an OC for just the solar system. She could be acquainted with America, Russia, China, etc, because of the international space station.

2P!talia/Cardverse/Nyotalia/2P!Nyotalia

Dreamland's 2P is a blonde haired gothic girl. Her pale blonde hair was in a short pixie cut, with electric blue eyes. She normally wears black clothing. Here's an example... [2]

That link actually led to nothing, just a grey image of nothing with an error message. I removed the link regardless.

She is extra salty, and rarely shows her sweet side. Being a kuudere character, she's quite popular with other countries because she is quite the mysterious character.

This entire thing makes my head hurt.

Dreamland's Cardverse is non-existent for now. She dwells where the Wasteland of Cardverse is: [3]

That led to a broken Deviantart link. I think the upload was deleted. I’m also not familiar with Hetalia’s Cardverse, I haven’t interacted with the fandom as much as I used to in quite some time.

Dreamland's Nyotalia has pale pink hair dip-dyed into blue. He wears something similar to this: [4]

His personality is cute, and very, very modest when it comes to praise.

Link deleted again, because I’m not sure if that’s stolen art or not. Even if it isn’t and the OC creator drew it, I don’t want to repost anyone’s art without permission.

Dreamland's 2P!Nyotalia looks like this: [5]

Another broken Deviantart link.

Relationships/Trivia

Milky Way has no comfirmed religion/ethnicity. (Although, I like to think of her as a Scientologist, believing in the Big Bang Theory etc.)

That... That isn’t what Scientology is. I also believe in the Big Bang Theory, but that doesn’t make me a Scientologist. Scientology is an actual cult. It isn’t just a religion based on facts and logic because it has ‘science’ in the name.

Her relationship with Galaxy is kind of tattered.

Guess she needs to work on self love.

Dreamland is a panromantic asexual.

Another few people she knows are Romania, Norway & England mainly because of their magic. America & Canada are also some acquaintances. Even though she has not spent that much time with France, she takes SOME of her personality from him.

Why? Just... Why? Like, what logical reason is there for that?

Milky Way is a dandere.

I’ve lost the will to fight.

She looks around 11 years old, but is actually 31.

What? Just... huh? Why? I reiterate my point from the beginning, the Milky Way is a galaxy that is billions of years old. I have no idea why she would look 11 years old, but the fact that it says she’s 31 is even more baffling. Where the fuck did that number come from?

Her birthdate is 2nd December, being a Sagittarius. (The Milky Way's constellation is Sagittarius.)

The-- Okay. Sure. But there are also so many more constellations aside from that one in the Milky Way. Because the Milky Way is a galaxy. Full of stars.

Her full name is Daphne (Italian spelling is: Dafne) Dreamland. Her origin/ethnicity is unknown for the moment~ Dreamland knows all the countries; it's just that they don't know her.

~ The end, for now ~

I have no words. I just... I don’t. I don’t even know how I can be constructive here. I have so many questions.

How would this even work in canon Hetalia? I am left with a blank. I genuinely have nothing to say. I’m left with so many unanswered questions.

-Kat

#the milky way #Axis Powers Hetalia #aph hetalia #hetalia #hetalia OC #mary sue #really just awful #Help #send help #*Bertrum crying*#mod kat reviews stuff #mod kat reviews things #the galaxy #i guess #ohnohetaliasues

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ikemenomegas · 2 years

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i love how you have an alpha split for the jjk omega things

i love how you have a longing ending to both of the satoru and suguru explanations

how do you justify that when everyone is so sad lol

XD I had too reread this question twice because I had a horrified moment when I thought you were making the Satoru/Alpha/Suguru situation some kind of ice cream metaphor? Which is an image I don't particularly care for because being between two very fit men who more than half a foot taller than I am just sounds like claustrophobia. Satoru can be the center spoon, I'll be on the outside, thanks.

I'm glad that you enjoyed that feeling! JJK is a series that loves repression and longing too much to ever abandon in even a fanwork haha.

I don't know if you meant to be funny but you're last line made me cackle. Very "how dare you/the audacity" which, given that I haven't gotten to other things yet ... (Suguru birthday fic, tomorrow! I have had it written for like six weeks and i'm so excited to do a final edit before publishing)

Sometimes I feel really bad about it, mostly because JJK thrives on having foiling pairs, often with the "they were best friends then the fire nation attacked" levels of dedication and drama. The author also just has an intense amount of character arc parallels (different from BSD's love if imagery parallels) which makes it feel a little imposter-ish to add to an already well balanced duo/trio and to have to make that oc someone who works with instead of against those groups.

The nature of a healthy romantic relationship is something that ideally should help you grow, or at least bring you some kind of mutual comfort, vs a lot of the canon parallels just show the characters how much they have left to lose, so that's another thing to contend with constantly. At what points does the oc/character relationship have conflict which seems to add to my understanding of the original themes, and at which point do I let that relationship be comforting for the readers and characters.

So my justification I suppose ends up being that I don't think the alpha you're asking about is actually as happy or hopeful as the blurbs seem. I think they get the benefit of being with someone they care about, but ultimately that's going to come at a cost. The show is about people leaving and the people who get left behind to deal with things, so again I feel a little weird having this oc's issue being that they're the one who stayed. (... I guess that makes them their own foil in a weird way? It doesn't really work because it's literally the same person but it's as close as they get).

Tl;dr: I justify it by also having the oc be sort of sad XD. There are happy moments, and I think that's consistent with the source. Repressed and careful about feelings as everyone is, they do manage to form friendships that tear them apart, so I guess I just wanted to try that with a romantic pairing?

#this is utter rambling nonsense #i'm going to bed #ask answered #jjk #omegaverse

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calowlmitygoddess · 1 year

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by @/loosesodamarble, more misc. Oc questions

What inspired you to create your oc? Stories, i usually have a plot and i need someone to act on it

Why does your oc look the way they do? What are your reasons for their appearance? Personality mostly, as a visual artists first, i tend to make my characters visualy stricking in a way you can see who they are at first glance

What is the origin of the character's name? Fantasy Character Generator babeyyy, or mashing vowels togheter

Why did you give them the name they have? What is the in-universe reason for their name? most of my characters do not have in universes explanations with a few exeptions. Wisteria for example, was named such because is tradition in her family to name kids after flowers. And in my other Wip, the Drakin race female typic names end in -ia and male typic names end in -on. The real reason is because it sound nice/cool

What kind of abilities and power level does your oc have? Why did you give them their powers? What's the in-universe reason? Most powers my ocs have are related to their species, and most of them are very over the top magical skills.

What are the weaknesses in their power? Why did you give them their weaknesses? What's the in-universe reason? Again vary, and usually also related to innate things. Like Humans not having innate magic and needing to learn it/use amulets and wands to wield it

Does your oc have any notable skills or good personality traits? Why did you give them those traits? Why do they exist in-universe? Many have as well. Wisteria is meant to be a good queen with great managing and negotiation skills. Many of my characters also excel in combat and inteligence.

Does your oc have any notable flaws or activities they're not good at? Why did you give them those flaws? Why do they exist in-universe? The best example is probably Akila i think, my poster child for being Awful. Tried to create a perfect being to supplant the mortals and made something infinietly worse.

In a group dynamic, what kind of role does the oc usually fill? Are they a worry wart? A troublemaker? The straight man? I think the current WIP trio fits this best. Orick is the serious aloof one, Wisteria is sunshine one and Meira is the big scary one with a heart of gold

What is your favorite trait regarding your oc? I think ill answer this one with Althia because i love her independence, its her most defining trait and the one that shapes her every relationship

What is your least favorite trait regarding your oc? none, i love writing even the flaws.

Which canon characters (if any) do the oc have good relationships with? Why those characters? This one goes for Rhena my Wol, And in my head her most notable relationship is with Midgardsomrm. Solely because game gave me dragon i decided that she should bond with dragon. And is cute to have one of the most ancient beings in the land find some hope and joy again trought the eyes of a young adventurer

Which canon characters (if any) do the oc have bad relationships with? Why those characters? Aside from the villains i cant think of one.

Did you give your oc a love interest? Is it another oc or a canon character? Why? Again for Rhena, Sort of!. I thought some of Minfilia lines in ARR were kinda gay, and Then there was Ysayle who was such a perfect foil enemies-to-friends thing but she died too soon so nothing happened. Its funny that both girls Rhena had a crush on ended up gone so im keeping her a tragic lesbian

How does your oc interact with the canon narrative? What about it do they change? Just expanding on relationships with certain characters.

What aspect(s) of the universe's lore are they connected to? Do they change/add lore to the universe? Back to my wip ocs. So many of them are gods, Akila specially straight up SHAPED the way the current world functions with the existence of demons

List/describe up to five tropes that apply to your oc. They could be related to the oc's characterization or their narrative arc. I literally always describe Garlasia as a classic Shounen Protagonist but Girl.

Imagine meeting your oc. What would you want to say to them or do with them? Depends on the oc, help me fix my life perhaps LMAO

How might your oc react to finding out you are the one responsible for their life? The classic tired Why.

Share a random piece of trivia about the creation of your oc. Examples: scrapped ideas or changes you didn't expect to make. SOOOO Many of them were rip offs of other media AND other artists ocs teenage me was shameless, Akila was literally made on a dress up game, Orick Meira and Wisteria were based on the Pale King, The Radiane and The White Lady Hollow knight and but more hinged and with less infanticide.

#owl rambles

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cassandra-has-moonlit-eyes · 2 years

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Cats Vienna, 19.06.22 with a lot of rambling cause it is meee

Also I’m getting kind of emotional and then bitter at the end again. Whooopsie.

Today there was a really interesting energy on stage and every actor was like on 120%. You could feel that the ending is near.

Birgit Arquin who plays Bombalurina was absolutly on fire today.

Also a lot of the super swings:

Jo Lucy Rackham played Jenny. I love her Jenny. She is strict but also soft and her tap dancing is amazing.

Tommie Luyben as Carbucketty. Dance co captain. Also plays like 100 roles in the show.

Without Tommie and Jo they could have closed the show haha. No honestly. They are both absolutly amazing. They didn’t just play male or female roles, they also switched: Jo also played Coricopat and Carbucketty (loved her Bucky very much) and Tommie played Tantomile and Electra (loved his Electra). Both of them did not “just” cover minor roles but also major roles. I saw Tommie as Skimble a couple of times as well as as Mungojerrie once (I remember him because he shuffeled???) and Jo covering Demeter, Rumpleteazer and Jenny.

Also Sinisi as his propably last Misto. Never saw him in this role before and enjoyed him quite a lot. He seemed a little bit more chaotic than the other Mistos. He is also an absolute super swing covering Tugger, Misto, Alonzo, Coricopat, Carbucketty and Admetus (at least these were the roles I saw him in).

Next super swing today: Susannah Murphy as Electra, I saw her mainly as Electra, Jemima and Tantomile but I know she covered other roles too. Absolutly full of energy every time I saw her.

Then we had Snova as Admetus: next super swing, I saw him as Tugger, Munk and Macavity/Admetus and enjoyed him in every role.

Also Denise Jastraunig as Jellylorum. She covers mostly Jenny and Jelly but I saw her as Griz once.

Also today: Babara Obermeier played Griz and I love her as Jelly but I too love her as Griz very much. She is soooo amazing.

Some notes to today:

Sinisi Misto is tall Misto. I like.

I love how at the beginning of the Gumbie Cat Alonzo (Maniadis) usually lies on the car and streches his leg (this cat streches his leg a lot) but gets driven away when the Gumbie Trio comes. He usually goes down on the floor to cuddle with Cass (Dacres) before both put their tap dance shoes on.

Jo is an absolute amazing Jenny. She is very strict and you know her Jenny is a good performer because she is also strict on herself. I love the faces she makes during the Gumbie Cat, her tap dancing is so clean and sounds so well and she just has such an happy and joyful attitude like most Cats in Vienna for what I love the Vienna Kitties very much.

When Tugger (Hees) came in Bomba was really excited and Jelly was really annoyed. Sinisi Misto didn’t like being touched by him. Propably has to clean himself now. Snova also plays Admetus very happy and fun like Li (when Maniadis plays him he plays him more like he plays Alonzo which is also fun because sometimes he looked disgusted with Tugger sitting on him). Bomba’s facial expressions during her part were gold today. And she is an amazing dancer, really. Loved how offended she looked when he let her fall but then shrugged it off and joined again. Carbucketty hid behind her legs while the girls were screaming.

Griz entrence: I love Obermeier Griz very much. I love her voice and her acting. In the Vienna translation during memory she sings: “Hoffnung, in mir lebt noch die Hoffnung, dass ich nicht einfach sterbe, wie die Kerze im Wind.” Which roughly translates to: “Hope, I still have hope, that I don’t just die like the candle in the wind.” Hope isn’t a motive in the English lyrics (as far as I can remember) but I think it fits the character quite well. With Obermeier Griz it always feels like hope is something she gives the character: her Griz has hope that she will be accepted back. After she sings about herself, she wants to leave the stage but then Demeter (Vazzoler) starts singing her number and she hesitates to leave the stage and listens to Demeter. You can see hope in her face, hope that she maybe still welcome. Also Munkustrap (Fetterle) really had a sad look on his face when he listened to Demeter today. The hole moment, the tentions between Griz, Deme, Bomba and him today were amazing.

Bustopher Jones: Really funny today. Jenny started, she was so excited, then Bomba and Jelly tuned in, were to excited and Jenny shooed them away like move: I’m singing this number. Also after Bill and Bucky misbehave during Bustopher sings, Bill (Nathan Luke) roles to the right side, fist bumps Demeter, who tought his joke was funny and is then scolded by Jenny. Today he seemed sad at Jenny being angry at him, nuzzled her side and she petted his head and looked at him like: Is do still love you, even thou you are ein schlimmer Bub, and that was just everything. Jenny is strict but she loves her Schlimms very much (I use Schlimm for the cats that misbehave, Oberschlimms are Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer). No matter who Jo plays she has always great interactions with all the Schlimms (mostly with Bill, Bucky, Vicky and Electra).

Jenny was also so proud when she recieved the rose today she had to show it to Jelly and Bomba.

Mungojerrie (Mayert) and Rumpletaezer (Buchegger) were amazing today and got a lot of applause. Rumpleteazer bowed down like thank you, thank you, I know I’m amazing.

Don’t have much to say about Old Deut and the Pekes today, only that when Tugger entered the stage with the pipe he wanted to get Mistos attention by patting him on the shoulder but he just looked at him confused and danced on.

The Jellicle Ball. Like, I shit you not when I tell you that I sometimes went to see Cats just to see the Jellicle Ball. I love it so fucking much and Vienna has so many talented dancers, it’s absolutly incredible and always a joy to watch. I will miss this part most. It just hits so hard live especially the second part after the cuddle. Bomba section was amazing today, Bomba looked over her shoulder into the audience while moving her hips with a kind of cheeky smile and the Tugger/Bomba cuddle section was very ... interesting today (yeah, she grabbed his behind, and I was like you go girl). She was also came early during the girls V formation to flirt with Tugger again.

I love the part from the Munkus center to the end the most. It’s just so energetic and perfect and yeah. It’s everything.

Griz came back, again hoping to be exepted realising she isn’t and singing her sad song. She wanted to leave again, had a small shimmer of hope, reached out her hand but nobody touched it. Heartbreaking today really (maybe I’m over emotional cause the show is coming to an end).

Act II

Didn’t focus on much during Happyness and Gus but the pirates were funny again today. Misto was scared of Growltiger during one part and hid behind Mungojerrie who protected him for a while but then pushed him towards Growlitger cause they had to sing again.

Skimbleshanks was fun, as always. Murphy Electra is just the happiest Schlimm after she misbehaved and is laughing with Carbucketty. Also Misto was a little bit of a Schlimm today. He blinded the audience (ME) with his light and then he also blinded Old Deut who wasn’t happy about that and just laughed (yeah, Sinisi Misto is defently more chaos then the other very well behaved Mistos haha). He was so cheeky and laughed, tststs.

Tugger really wanted to dance end of the train togetzer with Tantomile and Cassandra but he had to help Old Deut with his back.

Macavity, amazing as always. I don’t know what was different today (maybe that I for once focused on Bomba and not on Demeter, lol) but Birgit Arquin killed the whole performance today, like absolutly, fave Bomba performance I ever saw in Vienna. Her dancing and singing were amazing, expressions and acting on point, extreme powerful energy all in all. Griddlebone Part, best part, when she was moving like a snake, like it lookes so good, from hips to head everything seemed A+. Absolutly amazing.

Snova Macavity also very good today. At the beginning Demeter was hypnotized by him and he grabbed her by her hips, pulled her closer and stunned her with her magic, so she fell asleep (usually they don’t touch here, as far as I can remember). I shit you not. I had goosebumps.

Misto number semed kind of chaotic today and I’m not complaining . Tugger kind of played different from usual I would say, more chaotic, fun and casual, maybe to match Misto’s chaos energy. Firstly Misto nearly didn’t catch the red vase, he pulled the rainbow out a little to late which nearly landed on Tugger (or actually landed on him, not sure anymore) who seemed kind of confused/taken by surprise. He nearly forgot to dance with Misto his leg up part, it wasn’t in synch but it fitted non the less and was fun and chaotic in a good way.

When he took the jacket from Misto, Carbucketty was already waiting to take it backstage. Tugger teased him and pulled it away, before haning it over Carbucketty’s head who just looked so done with his antics.

Meanwhile Misto Solo happing. Something was changed in the choreo. At one part Misto was lying on the floor and stretching his leg which usually doesn’t happen. Very nice conjouring turns.

He was also so surprised/shocked by Tugger hyping him up at the end. It was realy fun and entertaining, the whole number today.

Memory: So beautiful. Obermeier’s voice is everything and I don’t know any technical turms but she changes it to sound rougher of softer, she is sometimes louder or quieter and listing to her sing it is never boring. The touch me is so powerful and you can feel her hope. Nearly cried today what never happened before (maybe again because the show is ending idk). She leaves again, then the hope awakens in her and for the last time she reaches out, this time her hope is fullfilled.

Absolutly loved every bit today end it felt really short. It was so much fun.

Also, all this Grizabella watching made me think about her again. For me cats is a musical about community and this line with hope in German seems to me like she is coming back to her community so she won’t be forgotten when she dies. She knows she is dying and she doesn’t want to die alone, she wants to be with the cats that are dear to her. And she wants to be remembered by them, by her community. That really made me feel things today. You can read so much into her character.

Also the connection between Grizabella and Demeter, whatever it is, is just so powerful. Demeter as a character grew very much on me and I just love her compassion for Grizabella. And I love that she, even though she is scared, attacks Macavity when he returns, in order to protect the others. She is such an amazing character and all the Vienna Demeters portrayed her a little bit differently but so well. Made me really fall in love with her as a character. She is such an amazing, complex character (as complex as they get in Cats) and cutting her out of the 2019 movie was such a big mistake because it takes so much away from the musical as a whole.

#cats the musical #really good today #I have feelings #tw: death #hollywood can't handle complex female characters #and hollywood can't handle female characters that have complex relationships and compassion for other female characters #cats DAS musical

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unpopularwiththepopulace · 3 years

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Don’t I Get a Dream for Myself ? – Bernadette Peters and the 'Gypsy' Saga

Gypsy. It’s perhaps the most daunting of all of the projects related to Bernadette Peters to try to grapple with and discuss. It’s also perhaps the most significant.

For someone notoriously guarded of her privacy and personal life, careful with her words, and selective of the questions she answers, the narrative around this show provides some of the most meaningful insights it is possible to derive in relation to Bernadette herself. The show’s ability to do this is unique, through the way it eerily parallels her own life and spans a large range in time from both Bernadette Peters the Broadway Legend, right back to where it all began with Bernadette Lazzara, the young Italian girl put into showbusiness by her mother.

The most logical place to start is at the very beginning – it is a very good place to start, after all.

(Though no one tell Gypsy this, if the fierce two-way battle with The Sound of Music at the 1960 Tony Awards is anything to be remembered. Anyway, I digress…)

Gypsy: A Musical Fable with music by Jule Styne, lyrics by Stephen Sondheim, and book by Arthur Laurents, burst into the world and onto the New York stage in May of 1959. After closing on Broadway in March 1961, Ethel Merman as the world’s original Mama Rose herself led the first national tour off almost immediately around the country. Just a few months later, a second national touring company was formed, starring Mitzi Green and then Mary McCarty as Rose, to cover more cities than the original. It is here that Bernadette comes in.

A 13-year-old Bernadette Peters found herself part of this show in her “first professional” on-the-road production, travelling across the country with her older sister, “Donna (who was also in the show), and their mother (who wasn’t)”.

The tour played through cities like Philadelphia, Chicago, New Haven, Baltimore and Las Vegas before closing in Ohio in 1962. Somewhat uncannily, its September 1961 opening night in Detroit’s Schubert Theatre even returns matters full circle to the 2003 revival and New York’s own Schubert Theatre.

Indeed this bus-and-truck tour was somewhat of a turning point for Bernadette. She’d later remember, “I mostly thought of performing as a hobby until I went on the road with Gypsy”.

But while this production seminally marked a notable moment for the young actress as well as the point where her long and consequential involvement with Gypsy begins, it’s important to recognise she was very much not yet the star of the show and then only a small part of a larger whole.

Bernadette was with the troupe as a member of the ensemble. She took on different positions in the company through the period of nearly a year that the show ran for, including billing as ‘Thelma’ (one of the Hollywood Blondes), ‘Hawaiian Girl’, and additional understudy credits for Agnes and Dainty June.

The above photo shows Bernadette (left) with another member of the ensemble (Sharon McCartin) backstage at the Chicago Opera House as one of the stops along the tour. Her comment on the stage of the Chicago theatre – “I’d never seen anything so big in my life!” – undeniably conveys how her experiences were new and appreciably daunting.

Along the tour, she assumed centre-stage once or twice as the understudy for Dainty June, but playing the young star was not her main role. Unlike what more dominant memory of the story seems to purport.

Main credits of June went instead to Susie Martin – a name and a tale of truth-bending that’s now well-known from Bernadette’s concert anecdotes. While performing her solo shows as an adult and singing from Gypsy, Bernadette has often been known to take a moment to penitently atone for historical indiscretions of identity theft or erasure where her mother long ago conveniently left out the “understudy” descriptive when putting down Dainty June on her resumé, in an effort to add weight to the teenager’s list of credits.

Whatever happened to Susie Martin? – many have wondered. Well, she soon left the theatre. But not before appearing in two more regional productions of Gypsy and a 1963 Off-Broadway revival of Best Foot Forward with Liza Minnelli and Christopher Walken.

Bernadette too went on to other regional productions of Gypsy. She spent the summer of 1962 in various summer stock stagings with The Kenley Players, like in Pennsylvania and Ohio, and this time she did indeed get to play June.

Above shows photos from different programmes for these productions. While some may have featured odd forms of photo editing, they at least also bring to attention Rose here being played by none other than Betty Hutton.

The two women couldn’t have been in more different positions when they coalesced in these rough-around-the-edges, small-scale productions. A young Bernadette was broaching summer stock in starting to take on bigger roles in the ascendency to her bright and long career. Meanwhile, Betty found herself there while navigating the descent that followed her sharp but fickle rise to Hollywood fame in the ‘40s and early ‘50s. Top billing Monday, Tuesday you really are touring in stock after all.

While details aren’t plentiful for these productions, it was recounted Betty apparently struggled in performing the role. And understandably so. Following the recent traumatic death of her mother in a house fire, and the birth of her third child shortly before the shows began, it’s not hard to see why her mind might have been elsewhere. Still, she was apparently impressed enough by the younger actress who turned in one of the show’s “creditable performances” to make comment that she would’ve liked Bernadette to play her if a movie were made about her life.

Bernadette might not have done this exactly, but she did go on to revitalise Betty’s best-known movie role, when stepping into Annie Oakley’s shoes in the 1999 Annie Get Your Gun revival. With Bernadette’s first Ethel Merman show under her belt, the ball was soon rolling on her second.

The 2003 production of Gypsy was imminently beckoning as her next successive Broadway musical and it was Arthur Laurents who lit the match to spark Bernadette’s involvement. Laurents, as the show’s original librettist, drove the revival by saying he “didn’t want to see the same Rose” he’d seen before. Going back to June Havoc’s description of her mother as “small” and a “mankiller”, and Arthur’s take that Bernadette sung the part “with more nuance for the lyrics and the character than the others”, the choice of Bernadette was justified. Moreover, “Laurents – whose idea it was to hire her – [said] going against type is exactly the point,” and Sam Mendes, as director, qualified “the tradition of battle axes in that role has been explored”.

So Bernadette also had her own baseline of innate physical similarity to the original Rose Hovick, in addition to her own first-hand memories of the women she’d acted alongside as Rose in her youth to bring into her characterisation of the infamous stage mother.

But there was a third factor beyond those as well to be considered in the personal material she had access to draw from for her characterisation. Namely, her own real life stage mother.

Marguerite Lazzara did share traits with the character of Rose. She too helped herself to silverware from restaurants, and put her daughters in showbusiness for the vicarious thrill. Marguerite had “always wanted to become an actress herself”, but had long been denied her desire by her own mother, who likened actresses to being as “close to a whore as you could be without, you know, getting on your back”.

In that case, to “escape a housewife’s dreary fate in Ozone Park”, Marguerite channelled her latent dream through her pair of young daughters instead, shepherding them out along the road. Thus was produced a trio of the two children ushered around the theatre circuit by the driven mother, forming an undeniable parallelism and a mirror image of both Bernadette’s reality and Gypsy’s core itself. Bernadette didn’t see some of these familial parallels at the time when she was a child, considering “maybe I didn’t want to see” – “didn’t want to see a mother doing that to her daughter”.

It was coming back to the show as an adult that helped Bernadette resolve who her mother was and some of the motivations that had propelled her when Bernadette was still a child. She realised, “I think she thought she was going to die very young”, as her own father died young. So “she was rushing around to get as much of her life as she could in there”.

When she herself returned to the production in playing Rose, Bernadette conceded to sometimes bringing elements of her mother and her driven energy into her portrayal, and admitted too she looked “like her a lot in the role”. You can assess any familial resemblances for yourself, from the images below that show a young Marguerite next to Bernadette in costume as Rose, and then with the pair backstage in 1961 in a dressing room on the tour.

Marguerite was ambitious. From her own personal position and with the restrictions imposed upon her, it was ambition that materialised through her children. Irrevocably, she altered them. She placed Bernadette on TV as a very young child (“I was four when my mother put me in the business”); changed her daughter’s surname (“She told me my real name was too long for the marquees,” or really – “too Italian”); doctored her resumé (“Somehow the word ‘understudy’ vanished. ‘No one will know,’ said Marguerite”); and lightened her hair (“She’d say, ‘Oh, I’m just putting a little conditioner on it.’ But slowly my hair got blonder and blonder!”). All in the hope of giving her child a more favourable chance at the life she’d always wanted for herself.

On paper, a classic stage mother. “When I was a kid, she fulfilled herself through me,” Bernadette would say. “She put me into show business so she could get a taste of the life herself.”

But it’s important to consider Bernadette often qualifies that her mother wasn’t as brutal as Rose, nor was she herself as traumatised as June.

Bernadette didn’t begrudge her mother for her choices – at least by the time she was an adult, she’d rationalised them, explaining “naturally it was more exciting [for her] to go on the road with me than staying home and keeping house”.

As a child, Bernadette hadn’t necessarily wanted to be on stage, but there was a sense of ambivalence – not resentful belligerence – as she “didn’t care one way or the other” when she found herself there.

Like June, Bernadette may have been entered into and coaxed around a path she hadn’t voluntarily chosen. But unlike June, Bernadette had a deal with her mother that “she had only to say the word”, and she could leave.

Most crucially, she never did.

But that’s not to say Bernadette was enamoured with acting from the beginning.

She seemed to feel ‘outside’ of that world and those in it. And others saw it too.

It was in 1961 in Gypsy that Bernadette first met Marvin Laird – her long-time accompanist, conductor and arranger. The way he put it, he “noticed this one young girl, very close with her mother” who, during breaks, “didn’t mix much with the other girls”.

Beneath the effervescent stage persona, there’s a quieter and more reserved reality, and a sense of separation and solitary division.

When asked by Jesse Green in 2003 for the extensive profile in The New York Times if she thought her experiences on the road in Gypsy were good for her at that age, she gives a curious, somewhat abstract, predominantly dark, potentially macabre, response. He wrote:

She doesn’t answer at first but seems to scan an image bank just behind her eyes for something to lock onto. Eventually she comes out with a seeming non sequitur. “I didn’t know how to swim. I remember, in Las Vegas, I fell in, once, and they thought I was flailing, but I felt like: ‘It’s pretty down here!’ I might have been dying and I was thinking: ‘Look at the pretty color!’ And suddenly my fear of water was gone, and I could have stayed in forever.” After a while, I realize she’s answered my question. Then she dismisses the image: “But I had to get my hair dry for the show that day, so up I came.”

I’m still not entirely sure I know what she’s trying to convey here. My interpretation of this anecdote changes as I have re-visited and re-examined it on multiple occasions at different time points. It’s arguably multiply polysemic.

Was she simply swept up in a moment of childlike distraction, lost in the temporary respite alone away from the usual noise and clamour? Was she indicating comprehension that her feelings and perspectives came secondary to any practical necessities and inevitable responsibilities? Was she using the water to depict a muffling and fishbowl-like detachment from others her age who got to live more ‘ordinary’ lives in the ‘normal’ world above that she felt separate from? Was she referencing the pretty colours she saw as a metaphor for show business and how she became bewitched by them even despite potential dangers? Was she trying to legitimately drown herself, or at least exhibiting an ambivalence again as to whether she lived or died, because of what the highly pressurised demands on her felt like?

The underlying sentiment through her response in answer to Green’s primary question was that, in essence – no. Being a child actor was not “over all, a good experience for a youngster”.

Acting might have been something she fell in love with over time, but not all at once, not right from the beginning, and not without noting its perils.

It was a matter of accidental circumstance that landed Bernadette in the show business world to begin with at such a young age in the first place – “I just found myself here,” she would offer.

Her mother, who was “always crazy about the stage”, “insisted” that her sister, Donna take lessons in singing, dancing and acting.

A further point of interest to note is that, although it was Bernadette with her new surname who would grow up to be the famous actress, look to the cast lists from the 1961 touring production of Gypsy that featured both sisters in the company (see photo below) and you’ll find no ‘Lazzara’ in sight. Donna too, appearing under the novel moniker of “Donna Forbes”, had also already become stagified (nay, ethnically neutralised?) by her mother. As such it is clearly demonstrated that Marguerite’s intention at that point was to make stars of both her daughters. Correspondingly so, when her sister returned from her performance lessons some years before, “Donna would come home and teach me what she had learned,” Bernadette remembered. She may have gotten her “training second hand”, but the key element was that she got it.

For Bernadette, it was a short jump from emulating magpied tricks from her sister as well as routines from Golden Age Busby Berkeley musicals on the ‘Million Dollar Movie’ in front of the TV screen, to her mother getting her on the other side of the screen and actually performing on TV itself – belting out Sophie Tucker impressions aged five for all the nation to see.

The photos below show Bernadette in performative situations at a young age (look for criss-crossed laces in the second for identification).

“At first, as a toddler, Bernadette enjoyed performing; it came naturally, a form of play that people inexplicably liked to watch.” It was “just a hobby” and she “wanted to do it”.

But while she may not have detested it, she didn’t entirely comprehend what was going on either. “I didn’t even know I was on TV,” she said. “I didn’t know that those big gadgets pointed at me were cameras and that they had anything to do with what people saw on the television set.”

When she started gaining more of an awareness of how “such play [was being] co-opted for commercial purposes”, she grew less enthralled. “She didn’t care for the bizarre children, accompanied by desperate mothers, she began to see at auditions: ‘They spent their whole time smiling for no reason, you know?’”

Being a child who had become sentient of being a child performer began to grow wearisome and grating to the young girl who had her equity card, a professional (and strange, new) stage name, and an increasingly long list of expectations by the time she was nine. There’s a keen sense she did not enjoy being in such a position: “I wouldn’t want to be a child again. When you’re a child, you have thoughts, but nobody listens to you. Nobody has any respect for you”.

Gypsy did indeed mark a turning point for Bernadette as mentioned above – but not just in the way that seems obvious. Looking back at it now, it does appear the monumental turning point at which she started appearing in significant and reputable productions, beginning what would be the foundation to her ‘professional’ career. However it was also the turning point after which she nearly quit the business altogether.

When she returned from performing in Gypsy, Bernadette felt like she’d had enough. One way of putting it was that she “then retired from the business to attend high school”, wanting to have some semblance of a normal scholastic experience “without the interruptions”. But whatever dissatisfaction she was feeling as an early adolescent on stage, she didn’t resolve at school – going as far as saying that while at Quintano’s School for Young Professionals, “she was in pain”.

“When you’re a teenager you’re too aware of yourself,” she recalled. Being a teen and trying to come to terms with of the expectation of the ‘60s that “you are supposed to look like Twiggy, and you don’t, you feel everything is wrong about you”. Everything “was all about tall, skinny, no chest…[and] hair straight”. Little Bernadette with her “mass of [curly] hair and distracting bosom”, as Alex Witchel put it, was never going to fit that mould. “That was not me,” she stated. “At all.”

Her self-consciousness grew to the point that it became overwhelming and asphyxiating. “I was trying desperately to blend in and be normal, but that doesn’t allow creativity to come out,” Bernadette said. “I knew I was acting terrible. The words were sticking in my mouth and all I could think about was how I looked”. It was hard enough just to look at herself (“I didn’t like what I saw in the mirror”), let alone to have other people gawk at her on stage. So she stopped trying. She “didn’t work much from age 13 to 17” in the slightest. Bernadette would later reflect in 1981 in an atypically open and vulnerable interview, “I was very insecure. Insecurity is poison. It’s like wearing chains”.

It was a combination of factors that helped her overcome these feelings of such toxic and weighty burden to draw her back into the public world of performing and the stage. “The two people who helped her most, she says, were David LeGrant, her first acting teacher, and her vocal coach, Jim Gregory.” Jim helped with “[opening] a whole creative world for [her] with singing”; and it was David who’d give her the now infamous and often (mis)quoted line about individuality and being yourself.

Having these kinds of lessons, she reasoned, was “really a wonderful emotional outlet for a kid of 17”. The process of it all was beneficial for her therapeutically – “you have a lot of emotions at that time in your life, and it was great to go to an acting class and use them up”. And Bernadette felt freer on stage than she did out on her own in the ‘real world’, saying “[up there] I don’t have to worry about what I’m doing or saying because I’m doing and saying what I’m supposed to be doing and saying”.

Finally then and with considerable bolstering and support, she grew comfortable with the notion of being visible on stage and in public, and realised she was never going to blend in as part of the chorus so it was simply better to let go of such a futile pursuit.

David LeGrant’s guiding advice to Bernadette (“You’ve got to be original, because if you’re like everyone else, what do they need you for?”) wasn’t just a trite aphorism. For her, it was a life raft. It was the key mental framing device that allowed her to comprehend for the first time that she might actually have intrinsic value as herself. And that it was imperative she let herself use it.

She had always stuck out, yes, but she had to learn how to want to be seen – talking of it as a conscious “choice” she had to make when realising she did “have something to offer”.

Thus soon after Bernadette graduated, she stepped back into productions like in summer stock and then Off-Broadway as she made her debut at that next theatrical level at 18. It wasn’t long before she was discovered in what’s seen as her big break in the unexpected smash hit, Dames at Sea. And so Bernadette Peters, the actress, was back. And she was back with impact and force.

Besides, as she’s also said, she couldn’t do anything else – “if I ever had to do something else to earn a living, I’d be at a total loss”. An aptitude test as a teenager told her so apparently, when she “got minus zero in everything except Theater Arts”. So that was that. Her answer for what she would’ve done if she’d never found acting is both paradoxically exultant and macabre – “I don’t know, probably shot myself!”

Flippant? Maybe. Trivial? No.

Acting is thus undoubtedly related highly to Bernadette’s sense of purpose and self-worth. This is what makes it even more apparent that a show with such personal and historical connections for her, as in Gypsy, was going to be so consequential and impactful to be a part of again as an adult and perform on a public stage.

She’s called inhabiting the role of Rose in the 2003 revival many things: “deeply personal”, “life changing”, “like going through therapy” – to name a few.

In interviews regarding Gypsy and playing the main character, when asked what she had learnt, Bernadette would frequently say something like, “It taught me a lot”. Pressed further about specifics, her answers often hem close to vague platitudes as she maintains her normal tendency of endeavouring to keep her privacy close to her chest.

On one occasion, she actually elaborated somewhat on what she’d learnt, giving a fuller answer than the question is normally afforded anyhow. Beyond all it revealed to her about her mother, she extended to admitting “my capacity for love and my capacity for anger” as aspects in her that the show had permanently altered. Moreover, Rose to her was undoubtedly the “most rewarding and fulfilling acting experience” she had ever had.

But while such deep, personal and emotional depths and memories were being stirred up beneath the surface in private, she was getting vilified in public singularly and repeatedly by New York Post columnist, Michael Riedel.

Even before she’d set foot on stage, Riedel set forth in motion early in the 2003 season a campaign of vocal and opinionated defamation against Bernadette as Rose that she was miscast, insufficiently talented, and would be incapable of executing the role.

Too small, too delicate, too weak, too many curves (and too much knowledge of how to use them). Not bold enough, not loud enough – not Merman enough. Chatter and speculative dissent begun to grow in and around the Broadway theatres.

For such a prestigious and historic musical theatre role, it was always going to be hard to erase the large shadow of an original Merman mould. Ethel was woven into the very fabric of the show, with the rights to Gypsy Rose Lee’s memoirs being obtained at her behest in the first place, and the idiosyncrasies of her voice having been written into the songs themselves by their very authors.

To step out from such a domineering legacy would be a marked challenge at the best of times. Let alone when battling a respiratory infection.

Matters of public perception were certainly not helped when Bernadette then got ill as the show started its preview period and she started missing early performances.

Nor did it help with critical perception that the Tony voting period coincided so synchronously with Gypsy’s first opening months – giving Bernadette no time to recover, find her feet, and settle more healthily into the show for the rest of the run before the all important decisions were made by that omnipotent committee.

The tale of her illness is actually undercut by a more innocent and unsuspecting origin than you’d expect from all the drama and trouble it engendered. Bernadette decided nearing the show’s opening to treat herself to a manicure. In the salon, she was next to a woman very close to her with a frightful sounding cough. Who could’ve known then that this anonymous and inconspicuous lady through a fateful cause-and-event chain would go on to play such a part in what is among the biggest and most enduring Tony Awards “She was robbed!” discourses? Or even more broadly – in also arguably playing a hand in the closure and financial failure of an $8.5 million Broadway show after its disappointing performance at the Tony Awards that ominously “[spelled] trouble at the box office” and led to its premature demise?

Bernadette did not win the Best Actress in a Musical Tony that night on June 6th 2004. The award went instead (not un-controversially) to newcomer Marissa Jaret Winokur for Hairspray.

She did however give one of the most indelibly resonant and frequently re-referenced solo performances at the awards show just before she lost – defying detractors to comprehend how she could be unworthy of the accolade with a rendition of ‘Rose’s Turn’ that has apocryphally earned one of the longest standing ovations seen after such a performance even to date.

Even further and even more apocryphally, she reportedly did so while still under the weather as legend as circulated by musical theatre fans goes – performing “against doctor’s orders” with stories that have her being “afflicted with anything from a 103-degree fever, to pneumonia, to a collapsed lung”.

Seeing then as unfortunately there is no Tony Award speech to draw on here, matter shall be retrieved fittingly from that which she gave just a few years earlier in 1999 for her first win and previous Ethel Merman role in Annie Get Your Gun to wrap all of this together.

As has been illustrated, there are many arguably scary or alarming aspects in Bernadette’s Gypsy narrative. There’s undeniably much darkness and an ardent clamouring for meaning and self-realisation along the road that tracks her journey parallel to the show. But unlike Rose’s hopeless decries of “Why did I do it?” and “What did it get me?”, there was a point for Bernadette.

As her emotional tribute in 1999 went: “I want to thank my mother, who 48 years ago put me in showbusiness. And I want to finally, officially, say to her – thank you. For giving me this wonderful experience and this journey.”

Whatever all of this was, maybe it was worth it after all.

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giggles-and-freckles · 4 years

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Okay woohoo some fic recs incoming!!!! These will probably be all over the place, but I’ve just got to scream about them for a second!!! PS gonna try to do these more frequently because this is fun!!!

Click below the cut if you dare!

Declarations by Nny11

Summary: A series exploring Obi-Wan and Ahsoka's relationship as Grandmaster and Grandpadawan.

Okay, so this is one of the first fics I can genuinely remember reading with a heavy emphasis on the relationship between Obi-Wan and Ahsoka where I was like 'hey oh my god I love them?’ It was a monumental moment for me because now I am so obscenely ride or die for them and I truly do think back to this fic often with utter fondness.

A moment I loved:

“From a certain point of view,” he finally conceded, motioning her to start again. “At least I know you’ve learned something from me!”

“Well I couldn’t learn the secrets of your hair routine!”

the flood comes rushing in by @kenobilovebot

Summary: "I have done this for you. I have put you first." Or, Anakin finds out.

A little bit of sith!Obi-Wan? As a treat? Hm, well...all right!!!!! I don’t want to say too much here because I would really prefer you read it than read any more of my mindless babbling but–it’s good.

A moment I loved:

He can hardly think around the smothering darkness that has so wholly encompassed his master, so effectively destroying the light that has always been. He’s always been able to reach for it at the worst of times. Now he can’t feel it at all.

a time to say goodbye by Sokaless

Summary: Ezra isn't the only one facing the temptation of change in the World Between Worlds. Just minutes after facing Vader, Ahsoka falls through a portal seventeen years into the past and must relive her final encounter with Anakin and Obi-Wan without drastically altering the future. But Anakin Skywalker taught her many things. How to push her luck was one of them.

This is a short and sweet time-travel fic that finds Ahsoka back in that moment in the hangar with Anakin right before they unknowingly have their last goodbye. She knows more now than she did before and struggles not to say it all. But the theme of learning from loss is really special and powerful and I feel this sad sort of closure when I finish (I say that actively because I have...read this fic several several times). Painful, poignant–all the best things.

A moment I loved:

One last thing she learned from Anakin- teaching a lesson often requires holding your student to higher standards than you hold yourself.

With the knowledge that she’s holding him to a standard she herself might never reach, Ahsoka tells Ezra, “I’m asking you to let go.”

good morning, sun by @katierosefun

Summary: “You look miserable.” Ahsoka dropped her hand, spun around. Obi-Wan stood behind her, one arm carrying a cloak and the other half-extended to Ahsoka. [or: After she leaves the Order, Ahsoka has one last encounter with Obi-Wan.]

Let’s see how many of Caroline’s fics I can get away with posting before someone reports me. This one-shot is full of all the good post-wrong jedi stuff. Soka and Obi have a conversation at Dex’s that hurts a lot but also feels real and I will never not respect Caroline for understanding the nuances of the disaster trios intricate and intimate relationships with each other and how they shift and mold around different circumstances. This feels so authentically them that it hurts.

A moment I loved:

What came out instead was a small, half-choked sound.

When Obi-Wan opened his arms, Ahsoka fell right into them. “It hurts,” Ahsoka said, her voice cracking. “A lot.”

“I know,” Obi-Wan replied thickly. “We’ll take care of it.”

You Haunt All My What-Ifs by @kckenobi

Summary: But then she saw the way Obi-Wan’s lip was quivering, and his eyes were shining, and she realized— He hadn’t called because he needed to tell her. He’d called because he needed her. “Obi-Wan,” she breathed. “Oh, Obi-Wan…” And she wanted to reach out, to hold him. To be his refuge, his shelter, his home. Instead she just watched as he shook his head, palmed at his eyes, apologized. She reached out. Touched the hologram. It flickered. — [Satine and Obi-Wan—then, now, and every echo of what if between them.]

One of the first fics that got me on my Obitine grind!! Just the right mix of angst and angst to create the perfect recipe of absolute sorrow. These characters feel so real I could reach out and hug them–and oh, how I want to after this incredible little fic.

A moment I loved:

And then suddenly she was thinking of every little what if—the other paths they could’ve taken, the millions of ways they could’ve ended up here. She imagined a future where he’d stayed. She saw white weddings, crying infants, painting nursery rhymes on a pale bedroom wall. She saw herself rolling over in the middle of the night, bumping shoulders, feeling his warm breath on her face. She saw family dinners, rushed breakfasts as they hurried the kids off to school. She saw laughter. She saw a lifetime. And at the end, she saw herself old and gray, holding his hand, his eyes the last thing she’d ever see.They had arrived at the end now. But she was not old and gray.

Dying Words by @cloudyskywars

Summary: Anakin is trapped beneath a collapsed building, and has one final conversation with Obi-Wan.

One of my favourite febuwhump contributions from within the mountain of wonderful fics that the second month of the year created!! Some good ol classic Obi & Ani pain. Hint of a deathfic...but mostly just the moments leading up to it. And they...hurt. Also!!! Melanie took the care to make Anakin’s final words be about Obi-Wan, which is very special to me for the reason she includes in her author’s note.

A moment I loved:

“And,” he said, “if you ever see Ahsoka again, tell her she was the best padawan I could have asked for.” His breaths were coming in rapid pants, now, and the room was spinning out of focus. “Obi-Wan?” he asked, voice barely audible. “Yes, Padawan mine?” he responded, his own voice shaky as well. “Thank you for being my Master,” Anakin said.

i’m only me when i’m with you idiots by @renegadeontherunn

Summary: who let Obi-Wan pick the holo? and where's the remote? they might need a bigger blanket.

[or, Anakin, Ahsoka, and Obi-Wan have leave on Coruscant and holo night is the perfect excuse to all squeeze onto a couch together, bicker, and be, well, a family]

Fluff, fluff, fluff! Yes, please! My dear Fiona does a wonderful job wrapping these three up in a blanket and plopping them in front of a holo for a night of witty banter and so-cute-I-could-melt platonic cuddles. I love these three, I love this fic!

A moment I loved:

“You met a civilized Padawan? Couldn’t have been ours.”

get home by @curse-of-men

Summary: After a mission goes wrong and Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker goes missing, it is up to Obi-Wan Kenobi and Ahsoka Tano to bring him home.

[or: a Grandmaster and a Grandpadawan go on a road trip to rescue chaos personified]

What? Me? Rec’ing another Obi-Wan and Ahsoka centric fic? HUH? Hehe, I love that Lou says this is the missing Obi & Soka arc in their author’s note because um, did they look into my heart and know that’s what I most desire? Anyway, this three-parter is incredible from start to finish and I demand you all go read it immediately. :-)

A moment I loved:

Making their way to the cockpit, Ahsoka tilts her head into Obi-Wan’s general direction and says: “You know, Master, Anakin would probably think things so far have gone excellently.” Obi-Wan returns her look and sighs.

“Now you surely must get why I am so worried about this.” Ahsoka grins and gestures back and forth in the empty space between them with one hand.

“For what it’s worth, I think we make a good enough team.”

we stand here, together by @nightdotlight

Summary: Master Depa Billaba and Padawan Caleb Dume.

Windu worries for them, out in the wider galaxy. Waging war, while he and Anakin sit here, waiting.

But he trained Billaba, and Billaba is training Dume. Anakin once took lessons from her, when he himself was a Padawan, and he knows she is skilled enough by far, to ensure that both she and her student make it back to Coruscant safely.

It’s ironic, that when cut off from the Force he can understand other people better than he has in years.

ZOWEE!!!! This fic made me ugly cry on my conference period at school!! Ha! Another fic that culminates in, er...death. But!!!! The lead-up! Ooh, baby! The writing style of this one is also very fresh and unique which I appreciate as someone who essentially reads the same thing eight million ways (by choice, mind you!!!! and loves it every time!!!!). This is just an absolute gem of a fic. Queue: your best crying playlist.

A moment I loved:

Depa, her Padawan braid hanging from her shoulder, hugs him around his middle and drags him to the training salles. The whole way, her laughter follows them– warm, like summer rain. Like the smallest, most ephemeral moments of happiness.

Her smile feels like a sunset on his back, and Mace smiles back even as they spar, as green and purple clash over and over again in a dance unique to teacher and student.

He does not need to reach out to know the galaxy is at peace. When they take a break from their own spar, Mace feels a light tap on his presence in the Force; when he turns, Ahsoka Tano stands there in training robes, her own Master a few paces behind– and beside him, Obi-Wan Kenobi, face lighter than it has been in years.

Her Padawan beads hang from her headdress; when she smiles at the banter behind her, turning to retort, they catch the light, and the half-formed impression of those beads torn asunder and held in gloved hand is dissipated by the glare.

Only Hope by @tessiete

Summary: The infamous "Year on the Run".In the wake of her father's death, Satine is assigned two Jedi to escort her safely back to Mandalore, but in the chaotic aftermath of a civil war, there is more at stake than one person's survival. Together, they work to unite Mandalore, overcome ancient grudges, and bring peace to a world ravaged by bloodshed.

Man, oh man, do I love a good year on the run fic! And man oh man am I loving the heck out of this one. It’s in progress so go ahead give it a bookmark and a subscription while you’re at it!!!! But the banter! The sass! The (I assume soon to come) pining! The Qui-Gon third wheeling! READ IT! Cannot recommend highly enough.

A moment I loved:

“...and you’re bound to be hungry.”

“I assure you, I’m not.”

“Well, Obi-Wan is,” Jinn asserts. His back is to his apprentice and so he cannot see the mutinous glance which darts his way. “And as you’ve seen, he’s trouble when he isn’t fed. You have five minutes.”

Goes to Ground by jerseydevious

Summary: Obi-Wan has a question for Anakin following his experiences on Zygerria.

Silly Jedi boys trying and failing to communicate, gosh dang it!!! They get there, eventually, though. :’) Some post Zygerria angst and some tough discussions. HERE. FOR. IT.

A moment I loved:

“You are a bad influence, padawan mine,” Obi-Wan said. He gave Anakin that smile, the one that made Anakin feel like he shared a secret with his Master, something only for them.

In Sacrifice, Peace by @ilonga

Summary: “Shh. . .” Anakin says, gathering the younglings around him, reminding Obi-wan of all those whispered arguments where he had insisted to Anakin that yes, he was good with children, he’d be just fine teaching Ahsoka. He can almost feel the terror rising off Anakin from the hologram; Anakin doesn’t know what’s happening either. But he isn’t letting the younglings feel it. “You need to listen to me very carefully, okay? This--” his voice breaks, “--this is going to be scary. But you have to be calm, and strong. Just like Master Yoda taught you.” [Or, the ROTS au where Obi-wan finds a very different type of pain while looking through the Temple's recordings of Order 66.]

PAIN AWAITS YOU HERE! But that is exactly why you should click, kudos, comment, bookmark, and let this fic live in your head rent free like it’s living in mine. Truly couldn’t get it out of there if I wanted to! AND I DO NOT! Yet another deathfic and angst with The Team (TM). Read it, peeps.

A moment I loved:

“And then?”Obi-wan closes his eyes, pretends he can’t feel the weight of the body in his arms, pretends it’s really Anakin he’s talking to and not some worrying coping mechanism. “And then we fight.” he says.

to hold by @katierosefun

Summary: “What—” Ahsoka looked up and, where she had expected to find a mumbling drunk, she found instead—

“Master Kenobi?” Ahsoka asked, stunned. She straightened, already swinging her backpack around herself again.

“Ahsoka,” Obi-Wan managed. He was breathing hard, just barely bent over because he was supporting, Ahsoka realized dumbly, Anakin.

Anakin, whose head was lolling against Obi-Wan’s shoulder. Whose face was two shades too pale and eyes fluttering and lips parted in a soundless groan that brought Ahsoka right back to battlefields and med bays and other places that she hadn’t been in a long, long while. [or: after leaving the Order, Ahsoka runs into some familiar faces.]

Caroline at it again with the post-wrong-jedi disaster trio angst comin’ in hot! Some platonic bed-sharing, some confused Anakin, some conflicted Ahsoka, some pained Obi-Wan. Well–strike that. They’re all in pain. But what do we expect, honestly? What do we want, honestly? Pain. We want pain.

A moment I loved:

“Only another dream,” Obi-Wan said. He looked at Ahsoka, his face just barely shadowed. “Seems that it’s passed.”

Another.

Ahsoka’s stomach twisted. She looked at the hand she was holding. It was strange—she couldn’t remember if she had ever actually held onto Anakin’s hand this tightly before, but now she could feel the familiar callouses, make out just the faintest of old scars. Ahsoka squeezed it once.

Not near as many as I planned to do or have saved and ready to rec, but...this already got, er...quite lengthy. So! Same time, next week! I’ll have some more! (Well, probably not same time and maybe not even next week...but soon.)

#fic rec #how is this only thirteen fics hahahahahaha #I literally just cannot shut up #go kudos and comment and reblog their stuff PLS I beg you!

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idjitlili · 4 years

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The Goblin king...the one without warts.

Thorin x reader.

(Not my image.)

Summary:Imagine being apart of the company, of course Gandalf shoves you in with no choice. Growing close to Thorin eventually, after stopping at an inn.

A/n:Anon request includes ,but I won't spoil it. I do not own any characters.

Word count:4682

Characters:Y/n, the company, humans, elves, and David Bowie as Jareth.

Songs:ziggy stardust, as the world falls down.

Warnings: Alcohol, just ale. Uh mentions of jareths pants , and reference to a jareths 'magic'

It's only forever, it's not long at all. Only if we have forever, but we all die. We are not elves, we are not Morgan Freeman. Unless, you aren't telling me something?

Thus, you must take risks; to live the life you want to. The reason that you finally agreed to go an adventure, via Gandalf's request. Not that the leader of the group, that you'd be joining on this adventure, did not like the fact that a hobbit was joining , let alone alone you, a human, female. Not impressed to say the least.

You had just ignored the tree trunks insults, and seeking the company of the small hobbit. Both of you were in the same position, except you could maybe launch Thorin over a cliff.

Unknowingly Thorin had created a friendships, well between you, Bilbo, Fili and Kili. After you and Bilbo had decided to mock Thorin in secret.

"Wait, wait, I've got one." Standing up placing one leg on the log, hands on hips, head up , shaking you head slowly as if the wind was blowing it. "How's my hair?" Mocking Thorins low voice, looking at Bilbo who had stopped giggling, moving his eyes crazily to gesture behind you.

Turning your head slightly, to see Thorin staring at you. " Can I help you?" Unmistakable using a lower voice than normal, Thorin scrunched his brows together slightly. "What are you up to?" His eyes glazing over your stature, and posture.

"Oh, If you must know, Bilbo has been making sure that my family jewels have not dropped off due to my massive ego, last time he had to stitch them up because I am such a prick. Not that I could produce because I'm like 160." Maintaining eye contact with Thorin, chest fully pressed into the air, basically superhero pose, now off the log.

Thorin did not understand what you were talking about. "Get your things , we are moving on." Bilbo had just covered his mouth facing down, his eyes looking up.

“Do not test me , Y/n, I will throw you off a cliff, as if you was an end of bread. You are not worthy of this journey," Kili and Fili had been sat by, watching the scene unfold, as Thorin just stared at you. Kili walking over to you.

"Uncle!"

"My sisters son," Pulling Kili into a bear hug, him being the little bear, before pushing him off of you. "Get of me, people will think I'm soft, I am pure steel." You had not even noticed Thorin leaving.

"That was horrible," It really was, could you be anymore cringy? "You annoyed Uncle though, I am surprised he didn't put you into line." Fili didnt speak much, but when he did, it wasn't useless trivia.

"My arms may have no muscle, but does not mean I couldn't carry both Bilbo and Kili to their horses." Okay, maybe you would be able to actually, but it gained the trios attention. "I highly doubt that, y/n"

Bending your knees so that your back was in front of Kili, hands ready to grab his calves. "Y/n, are you sure? I don't want you t-"" we don't have all day, Kili."

" okay, Thorin." You had scoffed, as Kili had managed to get on your back, arms around your neck, legs around your front. "No, no,no not me." Bilbo shook his head furiously, in disagreement , as you gestures for him to get up. "Bilbo , please." Bilbo had sighed , as Fili watched you then pick up Bilbo, holding him Bridal style.

It was like carrying nothing, it was definitely a lot of weight, yet you still put in a face and walked through camp with them. Even if you couldn't fight, you weren't completely weak.

You had gained the attention of the dwarves, who Kili waved by in excitement , Bilbo just pretend to be dead in embarrassment. Thorin had caught your eye for a second as you walked by him, lift Bilbo onto his pony, Thorin told you pack, you were packing...Kili had then gotten off your back when you had kneeled down.

But what you didn't know, was that Thorin eyes were on you most of everyday during the the journey, you just happened to be oblivious to the gazes on you.

If you did catch Thorins gaze, you just thought that he was judging your actions,others picked up on their kings behaviour. Though they did not tell you, they did tease Thorin. Well only Dwalin , Kili and Fili dared to. Actually it was Bilbo who noticed first.

It was probably a few days after almost being eaten by trolls, that Thorin had began to develop feelings. At first he had just thought that you were mildly annoying like his nephews, that impression, was terrible. But once you were all captured by trolls...

You had pretended to be dead, the trolls had tossed you aside, and every time they were not looking you would crawl slightly. Tossing you aside for dessert. Thorin had caught this. Pulling faces as at him, as you slowly got closer, Thorin watching for the trolls.

When you had gotten next to Thorin, you had pulled a knife from you pocket , cutting the sack he was in. You had cut through quite a bit of the sack; when Thorin had pulled his hands out lifting you , shoving you into the sack with him, just as Berts eyes had glided over the dwarves.

That was when the trolls had noticed you had disappeared, but you were stuffed into the bottom of Thorins sack. You were too tall for the sack, your legs curled up, back inbetween Thorins legs. "Where is the human?!" The trolls had began to looking around finding no sign of you ,the moved on soon enough.

"Uh...the-the secret to cooking dwarf, is um..." Bilbo had tried to distract the trolls , after seeing Gandalf of course you couldn't see , you could only smell Thorin.

"Uh...not...not that one, he...he's infected!"

"You what?"

"Yeah he's got worms in his...tubes."

"Ooh!"

"In-in fact, they all have. They're infested with parasites, it's a terrible business, I wouldn't risk it, I really wouldn't."

"Parasites? Did he say parasites?" The dwarves were not the smartest bunch to say the least.

"Yeah, we don't have parasites! You have parasites!"

Thorin had realised that Bilbo is trying to buy them time and kicks Kili, but ends up smacking you with his calf, making you groan , only for Thorin to gently squeeze your shoulder, the trolls had been too busy listening to dwarves , that they never heard your quiet groan.

Gandalf soon had arrived, saving you all as always, the trolls turned to stone. It didn't take long for Bilbo to realise you were missing still. "Where's y/n?"

"I'm over here, Bilbo." You could not get out of the sack neither could Thorin, without someone helping you out. Kili being next to Thorin, had heard your voice, turning to see his uncles, feet looking a bit too pointy. "Where?"

Bilbo had turned in circles in search, Thorin just later there with the most unimpressed face.

"Bilbo, she's over here." Bilbo had hoped over , out of the sack, before opening the sack at the top to allow Thorin could shuffle out. Standing up, Thorin had pulled you up and out by your hand.

"T-thanks, um, your thighs are very comfortable, if I was murderer , I would make them into pillows. Oh, um, thanks , uh," your face flushed pink, noticing how you sounded and that both Bilbo and Kili was right next to you. Sometimes you are ought to think before you speak, a common term taught to children, yet you do not. You had rushed off back to camp, after that.

Tis was a compliment to dwarves for a woman to comment on their thighs or stature.

That was it, Thorin began to notice things about you, you helping Bilbo onto his pony when he needed help, even if he didn't directly ask. The way you'd slip on mud , even if it was dry, save yourself and look around wide eye if anyone had seen. How your arms got tired as you'd try to plait your hair. Slapping Kili gently on the back of the head if he said something mean about one of the others. Normally Kili picked on Ori's knitting .

Of course, Thorin thought his affections only went one way. You could not deny, the dwarven king was intoxicating, you were highly attracted to him. He was a mean guy, no he was not , he didn't want Bilbo to get killed going in this journey to help him.

You hadn't spoken to Thorin directly really, well until he allowed the company to stop at an

inn for the night, which everyone was happy about. The Dwarves were mostly excited for ale. You just hoped they had a deep clean...

Luckily they did , and soon everyone was a sat tables in the pub, 3 separate ones, you being stuck next to Thorin ,Bilbo next to you, Bofur next to him,Kili and Fili so on. Next came the ale, being pushed in front of you all.

Bilbo asked for a tea, but Bofur wouldn't have it, so there sat Dildo sipping at the pint of ale. Whilst everyone drank down theres soon enough, you just drinking it , because you was shoved against Thorin. After your fourth ale that's when you heard it.

A noise like a hurricane , the soaring winds of the mans pipes opened.

"Oh

Oh, yeah

Ziggy played guitar

Jamming good with Weird and Gilly

And the Spiders from Mirkwood

He played it left hand

But made it too far

Became the special man" Looking over to the small stage, a skinny man, with a huge blond Mohawk stood, his bare chest exposed showing a large pendant on his lower chest.

"Then we were Ziggy's band

Ziggy really sang

Screwed-up eyes and screwed-down hairdo

Like some cat from Japan

He could lick 'em by smiling

He could leave 'em to hang" Your breath hitched, as your eyes travelled down to his pants, he wore a legging type pants, showing off everything

"They came on so loaded, man

Well-hung and snow-white tan

So where were the spiders

While the fly tried to break our bones?

With just the beer light to guide us

So we bitched about his fans

And should we crush his sweet hands?" The dwarves and hobbit noticed your change, following your eyes to the man on stage.

"Do you know him?" Fili had snapped you out of your trance quickly, "o-oh, um, I haven't seen him for a long time."

"Who is he, lass?" Thorin said nothing just stared back between you and the man, as you kept glancing at him. Bofur had waited for your reply, calling over more ales. "my best friend ." That was the truth, not that anyone knew but you had wished yourself away to the goblins, thus a friendship bloomed.

Growing up you didn't have many friends, you still don't , Jareth was always there for you, you didn't want to out him being a fae.

"He was the nazz

With God-given ass

He took it all too far."

That's when he caught your eye, sending you a wink before continuing to sing with ease.

Half an hour later, you were starting to feel a little more free, after more ale, leaning onto Thorin for support.

"There's such a sad love

Deep in your eyes a kind of pale jewel

Open and closed." Jareth had started his 15 song of the evening, you had jumped up, well start up. "Thorin! Come on, let's dance." You had pushed him slightly. "Why?"

"Just come on, 'deep in your eyes a kind a pale eye,' that's you so you must dance with me, please." Thorin had finally had budged , standing up, his eyes were gems indeed. You had grabbed onto Thorins hand pulling him onto the cleared floor. You didn't know how to dance not really, but it was the heat of the moment. Well actually you had danced with Jareth during his masquerade.

"Within your eyes

There's such a fooled heart

Beatin' so fast." Placing one hand onto Thorins shoulder, the other into his hand, you could only hope you weren't making a fool of yourself. Jareth did like to be generous.

"In search of new dreams

A love that will last

Within your heart

I'll place the moon."

Looking into Thorins , bright eyes, which stared back into yours, you followed suit with steps , you hadn't realised that Jareth had changed your clothes into a white gown and sorted your hair, but the others and Thorin noticed. Following Thorins eyes down to your clothing you had get let out a snort.

"Within your heart

As the pain sweeps through

Makes no sense for you

Every thrill is gone" The dwarves hadn't seen Thorin dance since he was a prince, yet there he was with you dancing. Your eyes never leaving Thorins, as you danced in sync, turning together in a circular motion.

"I cannot wait for you to see Erebor." Thorin voice was quiet not to interrupt the music. You had grinned in confusion. "I thought you didn't want me on this quest? Why would you want me to see Erebor?"

"Wasn't too much fun at all

But I'll be there for you-ou-ou."

"So that you can attend a proper ball." You had smirked at the King, who just smiled at you.

"Well, you have got plenty of time to tell me all about Erebor, on this journey, that is if you speak to me after this."

"As the world falls down

Falling."

"As you wish." Thus you both just went back to just dancing smiling a little more now.

"As the world falls down

Falling

Falling in love." Though there was a room full of people surrounding you, it felt as if you were in your own world. Your own crystal...

"I'll paint you mornings of gold

I'll spin you Valentine evenings though we're strangers 'til now

We're choosing the path

Between the stars." You could only hope that everyone would make it to Erebor...

"I'll leave my love

Between the stars

As the pain sweeps through

Makes no sense for you

Every thrill is gone

Wasn't too much fun at all

But I'll be there for you-ou-ou

As the world falls down" As the song finished, you had pressed a kiss to Thorins cheek, Jareth was having a break, you had let go of Thorin, telling him you'd be right back.

Still in your puffy gown, you had made your way over to Jareth standing at the bar with a glass of what could only be described as some sort of rose fancy drink, fit for a fae king. Jareth had placed the glass onto the side, holding his arms out for you.

Jumping into his arms, spinning you around, legs up , before placing you back onto the floor. "Jareth, I missed you." Jareth grinned back you showing his teeth , "as have I missed you, so you and the dwarven king?" Jareth had looked passed to you to Thorin, you looking back too to see Thorin glaring.

"Uh, I dont know, did you know we was going to be here?" Jareth had grinned larger, confirming his answer. "Come meet my friends quickly." You had grabbed Jareth by his hand leading him to your table.

The dwarves and the hobbit had looked up from their conversations, mostly with smiles. "Uh, guys , this is my best friend , Jareth, Jareth this is Bofur, Fili,Kili,Thorin and Bilbo." You had gave Jareth a side hug, he had clicked his fingers and you were in your regular clothes. " 'ello," Thorin had looked Jareth over as you squashed next to Thorin ,with Jareth next to you.

"So, what are you?" Kili bluntly asked,staring at Jareth in interest. "He's the g-ubli- king." Jareth had silenced you for a second blurring the word Goblin. "I'm sorry , what?" Bilbo Baggins was always intrigued by others, especially if you looked like Jareth. "He is a king."

"Of what."

"Now that , Bofur, is for you to figure out." Jareth was indeed a confusing, mysterious man, he seemed to have sobered the dwarves up.

"How did you do that with the dress?"

"You are a very curious lot , aren't you? - "

Jareth could be nasty, you were surprised with his behaviour.

"Well, then how did you meet him , y/n/n?"

" she wished to be taken."

"...Y-you are th-" Bilbo knew he had heard of the man he had heard sing, his books had had came in use. But again Jareth had cut Bilbo off, he knew what Dwarves were like.

"Clever hobbit."

Now, my love, if you need me you know what to do." Jareth had turned to you , pulling you into a hug, looking at Thorin, with a devilish grin. Only if you had know what he had put into Thorins head.

Really he just said, "I will turn you into pie for my Goblins, if you hurt my y/n." That was it, he was gone, you had been hugging air for a good second, before turning back to the group of men , who just stared at you.

"Uh? What?" Bofur, Kili and Fili exchanged looks of agreement.

"You and that strange man, yep, that definitely happened." The smirk inlaced into Kili's voice, as he stared at ,waiting for a response. You had only scoffed at " I'll call him back, and you ask him, I'm sure you'd him to make you into a pie for his Goblins." In that moment, Thorin had realised that Jareth, wasn't just a thin stick, he clearly had fed someone to his Goblins before, Thorin didn't want to find out if that was true.

Thus, the subject was dropped, and that was it,though the other dwarves wanted to know what just happened, and Gandalf didn't give a shit or already knew.

Well that was it until you had all left Rivendell , clean for now, only to get captured by Goblins.

No way were they anything like the unwanted children, absolutely. Stuck next to Thorin, you stuck out being human, wishing you had stumbled onto the actual Goblin king. Thorin had pulled you down and shielded you from the whips.

You could only wish... but you didn't Gandalf saved you all again.

Back on the road again, until Thorin gets chewed up by a warg, you rushing towards him, as the dwarves fought off the wargs and orcs. Only for the eagles to arrive , seeing an eagle fly at you and Thorin, you had laid careful onto him. The eagle swooping you both up . "Hey Thorin, are you alive? maybe I can use those thighs a scarf sometime?"

Thorin did not wake up, until Gandalf had done some magic shit, him and Bilbo became best friends.

Then you were all captured...again, by the worst kind of elves. Dumb blonds, no, Thranduil was just a dick. All of you were stripped down to one layer , all but Thorin and you , were shoved into cells. You was asked the general question, why are you travelling with dwarves, well actually that was it.

You had pretended to faint. When Thranduil stood over your head to see your face, you had pretended to wake up, punching him right in the dick. "O-oh my I-"

"Take them away!" Thorin was surprised you were not executed on the spot, oh how he tried to hide his laughter, as the elven knelt in agony ,and you were both dragged away. Shoved into a cage today, before the elves stomped away. Of course , Balin asks Thorin what happened, instead of telling him what you had done, he had simply said about him shouting in Khuzdul.

" Hey, are you coming to my execution tomorrow? I wonder if my last words should be 'being an elf there's only one down fall, once you get to Thranduils age, your cock shrivels up ," Thorin had snorted , and that is when he saw it, your hair...looked like radagasts hair ,but without poop and birds.

Thorins eyes had stared too long, it was clear to you, you were just talking to him, of course you'd see him staring. Your hair. Well yes that was embarrassing, a king was literally making fun of your hair by his silent judging.

"You're judging my hair? Did you not see radagasts?" Thorin had snapped out of this stare, realising what he had been doing, a light blush upon his face. "You are right, " that's he had said, and went back to looking at your hair.

Sighing you had sat on the cold stone, let again breaking Thorins stare. "Are you going to do my hair or just stand there?"

"Are you sure?" Accepting his offer Thorin was quickly sat behind you, combing your hair, of course you didn't know about dwarvish customs. You didn't know you had just accepted his courtship,but you had.

It wasn't long before your hair was braided completely , and just as you had stood up Ori had spoken up. Though you didn't here what he had said but you had heard Bilbo. "Not in here your not." A jingle of the keys and you were free, well lead to the cellars while the others questioned Bilbo.

Soon enough well when Thorin had convinced the dwarves to get in the barrels, via Bilbos request, leaving just you and Bilbo out. Until Thorin had gestured you over, helping you inside the Barrel, but you stuck out more than the others,you wondered why Bilbo didn't get in one with one of the other dwarves. You barely in the barrel when Bilbo had pulled the lever,gripping onto Thorins shoulders as you were both submerged for a spilt second. Thus, you were off , trying to escape the elves , squished against the dwarven king, that you had unknowingly courted.

Kili was shot, and Bombur did some extreme parkour, and boom you had reached land. Soaking, freezing, lucky your hair was all braided back, thanks Thorin. Stopping to allow Kili's leg to be wrapped up , to prevent further blood loss.

Dwalin had almost give you a heart attack ,as you stood twisting the water out of your clothing. "Who did you hair ,lass?" He had basically popped up beside you , inspecting your braids , his voice louder and powerful.

Looking at the dwarf, who looked right back waiting for your answer , already knowing the answer. "Thorin did, why?" Dwalin only hummed before returning to his brother, him surprisingly whispering to his brother, Fili and Kili had looked at each other in disgust. Even though Kili was supposedly in pain.

"Do that again and you're dead." Snapping your head up, to the unfamiliar voice..was that orlando bloom? A human, a man with shaggy dark hair, worn out clothes , beautifully structured face. Boom, you had been able to board passage on his barge.

"Why is a woman travelling with 13 dwarves and a hobbit?" You had coughed, turning around to face Bard, you weren't very sure what you was supposed to say. "Well, um-" " She's travelling with us because she's betrothed to uncle." Fili had spoken up, saving you from revealing everything, still you had turned to Fili, eyebrows scrunched in confusion, Fili and Kili smirked.

"You are courting a dwarf?" Thorin had scoffed, as Bard kept his eyes on the lake, his tone was almost unimpressed. "Well, I almost fucked a fae s-" "y-y/n! That's not a-appropriate." Bilbo had choked out, without a thought.

"Come on, Gaggins, did you not see the pants he wore? His magic-"

"Enough." Thorin had interrupted you sharply, snapping your head towards the clearly annoyed King, walking over to him, punching his cheek. "Awwe, jealous of Jareth? You have a lot to live up to. Does your dick grow even after erecttion? I call it his magic c-"

" Hold on." Bilbo had pointed his pipe at you, staring at you, " How do you know that?" Bilbo had coughed again , with his cheeks red trying not to cry. "Don't tell him, maybe I held eye contact with not his eyes many times without him noticing , plus I asked him if he could grow tall as a house, and he said yeah, so I just assumed. I swear 100% I never walked in -"

"Hello, love." You had jumped out of your skin, turning around, there stood Jareth, your face flushed red, shoving him gently. "Oh- , not nice Jareth, could've died from shock." Jareth only ignored you, looking at your hair, his hand skimming over it , in interest.

"I heard you speaking of my cock, y/n/n, I'm flattered, but with those braids , I'm afraid you are no position to be making advances on me." Lips slightly touching your eyes, as the vibrations of his whisper sent chills down your neck. “Well, what position do you want me in?” Pressing your back right against Jareths, his hot breath heightened onto your jeck. Thorin was fuming with anger, the dwarves didn’t know what to make of the situation.

“Y-y/n, enough do you not know what you have agreed to by those plaits?”

You had turned quickly pulling Jareth away from the dwarves, well as far you could get anyways. "W-what are you talking about? What about the plaits?" Jareth had laughed loudly, getting the attention of the the dwarves , as you reached up to touch the braids.

"Oh, love, you don't know. Those plaits especially when done by a dwarf , signifies courtship, you have accepted." Eyes widened at the king, as he smirked at you, laughing lightly.

"What do I do? I am courting a king, I mean it’s not like I don’t like him , it’s j-“

“You are just being dramatic, you both share affections for each other, so what’s the problem? You know what to do if you need me.”poof he was gone, again.

So you had made your way over to Thorin, pulling him to his feet by his tunic, his eyes wide, as you pressed your lips to his harshly. His hands making their way into your hair, pulling you closer to him, kissing you back.

Your hands now under his jaw, the company well, they were as you could expect...cheering loudly. Pulling away from his lips, still in his hold , as you looked into his bright blue eyes.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you what?”

“That consenting you to braid my hair , meant that I accepted your courtship? I would’ve anyways, but I had to find out from Jareth, I thought that was just a ruse to explain why I was travelling with a bunch of dwarves.”

“Sorry, thought you knew.”

“You hear that Lads, she thought he braided her hair out of the kindness of his heart.” Company had burst into mocking laughter, but you and Thorin had ignored it.

“Well, if we are going to get married, I need the goblin king as our wedding singer.”

“Goblin king?”

“What? You didn’t know, Jareth is the goblin king. Not that wart of a goblin, “

Thorin had only stared at you.

“No, you can’t kill him, his dick would come off and fuck you in the ass.”

“I’m sorry, who’s dick would what?” Bilbo had popped up , with disgust and confusion upon his face.

#crossover #the hobbit imagine #the hobbit x reader #hobbit imagine #hobbit imagines #the hobbit imagines #the hobbit x y/n #labyrinth #slight #jareth x reader #thorin x y/n #thorin imagines #thorin imagine #thorin the dwarf #thorin x you #thorin x reader #thorin fic

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kissinginkitchens · 3 years

Text

You Bring Me Home—Chapter Eleven: Water Under the Bridge (Finale)

a/n: welcome back my loves <3 It’s so weird to think that this is the final chapter of YBMH and I’m definitely having a lot of feelings about it (denial, mostly). I want to say a huge thank you from the very bottom of my heart for sticking with this story and these characters that I love so much. I’ve had the most fun over the past few months talking to some of you and hearing your thoughts; I cherish it more than you’ll ever know. With all of that said, I’m going to miss this era so so much but I would still love to hear from you lovelies, so please feel free to drop by my inbox and let me know what you thought of this series!! Feedback, criticism, all of it is welcome :) Much love, Mel <3

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

Warnings: swearing, angst

Word Count: 6.7k

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

January, 2018

A strand of hair tickles Harry’s nose and his eyes flutter open. The faint sound of car horns and traffic outside reminds him of his location when his memory fails. He gently slips out of the bed and tiptoes over to the window, careful not to wake the girl sleeping soundly next to him. A thick layer of snow blankets every building and surface in New York City as far as the eye can see, and the grey sky above signals another storm on its way.

I’m going to die of hypothermia, Alani shivers, nursing her steaming cup of tea as she walks away from the office window and takes a seat behind her desk. Even after living in the city for a year, she still hadn’t adjusted to the cold weather and feared that she never would. Her boyfriend had joked on numerous occasions that you can take the girl out of the island, but you can’t take the island out of the girl.

“Vanessa’s on line three,” her assistant calls from the doorway.

“Thanks,” Alani nods before bringing the phone to her ear. “So, what did you think?”

“It was brilliant,” the editor admits. “Insightful, witty. I think they’ll love it,”

Alani smiles and spins in her seat to face the window again. “St. James has been on my ass about this piece for weeks. I hope it’ll shut him up,”

“It will, trust me. Hey, I gotta go, but I sent the revision notes and we can discuss more later,”

“Great, thank you so much. See you at dinner,”

“Ta-ta.”

Alani reaches for a pen and scribbles a reminder onto a pink post-it note nearby.

Bloody five-star hotel, you’d think they could afford decent pens. Harry grumbles to himself, shaking the ballpoint to no avail.

“Where are you going?”

Harry freezes in his tracks and turns to the brunette stretching out her tired limbs. He has to clear his throat to keep from saying the wrong name.

“Just a quick walk,” he explains with a tight lipped smile. “Go back to bed.”

She flashes a wide grin and snuggles back into the covers, but he secretly hopes that she’s gone by the time he returns.

The snow crunches under Harry’s feet and he digs his hands deeper into the pockets of his coat. He had never been very fond of the cold, but he did have to admit that Central Park looked unbelievably beautiful in the winter. His phone buzzes inside his pocket and he digs it out to read the message.

Mitch: Me and Sarah are going to Bisous in ten. Meet us?

Harry: See you there.

********

“French is such a pretentious language,” Maleah scoffs, taking a bite of her pastry. “But I’ll be damned if I have to give up my chocolate croissants,”

Alani chuckles lightly and traces the restaurant’s logo of a red kiss printed on her napkin. Going to Bisous at least once a day had become a tradition during her best friend’s visits.

“I’ll have to smuggle a real one back for you and then you can tell me if this one’s the real deal,”

“When are you going, again?”

“Next month,”

Maleah wiggles her brows. “Oooh, Valentine’s Day? Are you taking Mason with you?”

“No,” Alani says casually. “It’s for work,”

“Well, who says you can’t mix business and pleasure?”

“Literally everyone.”

“Okay,” Maleah sighs, patting her full stomach. “Let’s go now before I get sleepy.”

The two friends make their way out of the busy restaurant and Alani’s shoulder brushes someone next to her.

“Sorry.” she apologizes, making brief eye contact with the other person before doing a double take.

Mitch purses his lips and turns his head back to the other girl at his arm while Maleah drags Alani out the door.

********

“I mean, what the hell was that? I could barely keep my drum kit together,” Sarah laughs gently, sipping her coffee.

“Cause of death: rocking too fucking hard,” Mitch shrugs. “There are worse ways to die,”

Harry stirs his black coffee with a spoon and watches the mini whirlpool grow. “Rob said you could feel it in the balcony, too,”

“I’m surprised you didn’t die,” Mitch pokes. “Mr. defective lungs,”

“Heyyy, I can’t help the asthma thing, alright?”

“Well it’s the last night,” Sarah chimes in. “Are we gonna try to beat the Kiwi record and go for four times in a row?”

Harry shrugs, a soft grin on his lips. “Dunno. Maybe if it feels right,”

“I say we cut out the middleman and just bulldoze MSG ourselves. What difference does it make if the fans tear the house down or if we do?” Mitch suggests.

“Oh yeah,” Harry nods. “I’m sure Irving would love that.”

“Some food for thought.”

The trio finish their breakfasts and excitedly continue their conversations about the impending show, but the entire time, Mitch is haunted by the knowledge of Alani’s presence in the city. He debates telling Harry, but is suddenly reminded of the intense aftermath of the pair’s falling out.

********

“Where’s Alani?”

“Don’t fuckin’ say that name to me ever again.”

Mitch’s brow furrowed. “What’s going on?”

And with a simple question, anger had subsided into grief. Mitch still didn’t know all of the details surrounding their split, but he had pieced together sufficient bits from Jeff and, in part, from the lyrics Harry penned in the following weeks. The slump had lasted through the fall and winter of that year, but as spring rolled around and the album’s release drew closer, Harry pulled himself together enough to promote and tour. It felt good to be on the road, and he found himself revitalized by the energy of those who came to support. Tour itself had been relatively intimate, as he had actively decided to play smaller venues than the sold out stadiums he was accustomed to, but the enthusiasm of the crowds hadn’t changed from his band days. As Harry occupied his attention with music, Hawaii grew smaller and smaller in the back of his mind. Eventually, it dwindled into a dull ache at the center of his chest, felt only on particularly long nights coaxed with a little bit of alcohol in his bloodstream. For now, he tried to focus on his last show at Madison Square Garden.

********

Alani’s stomach turns. Had she really seen Mitch or had it been a remarkable doppelgänger? She hoped it was the latter, knowing that if he really was in New York City, Harry wasn’t far behind. This was by no means the first time she had been reminded of her summer love turned sour, but it stung just as much every time. The first incident was last April when she turned on the T.V. only to find Harry performing one of his new songs on Saturday Night Live. It had resulted in the loss of her favorite mug as it shattered against the hardwood floor in her apartment. Since that day, Alani had seen his face on countless billboards in Times Square and habitually asked taxi drivers to change the radio station or turn it off entirely. After a while, she had gotten better at dealing with the sinking feeling whenever he was mentioned, it was easier to detach feelings for someone who lived on a screen. Running into Mitch, however, had blasted a hole straight through the fourth wall that Alani had erected, and she knew that there was absolutely no way she could cope with a similar encounter from Harry.

“Oh shit,” Maleah gasps softly, looking through the windshield at the hundreds of people lined up on the pavement outside of Madison Square Garden.

“What?” Alani asks, head still spinning.

Her best friend immediately turns to her with a nervous smile and shrugs. “Oh it’s nothing. Hey do I have something in my teeth?”

Alani glances out the window behind Maleah and her eyes bulge. “Woah, what’s happening there?”

“Oh it’s probably, like, Lady Gaga or something. Anyways, look at this random text I got the other day.”

But it wasn’t “Lady Gaga or something.” The marquee reads “Harry Styles—SOLD OUT” in bold lettering. Alani retches into her bag.

********

“Oh, for fucks saaake!” Harry shouts playfully, the sound of his obscenities echoing throughout the large venue.

Mitch and Adam chuckle beside him and continue setting up their equipment while Sarah offers a comedic “badum-tss” on her drum set.

“Okay then at that point, stage lights will come down and it’s ‘Meet Me in the Hallway’,” the technical director speaks into his earpiece.

Harry nods and watches the screen behind him roll through the animation that will play during the song.

“Alright, then it’s—”

“Wait,” Harry interjects over the mic. “Sorry, can we run it?”

“Run ‘Meet Me’?”

“Yeah,”

Mitch tenses listening to the conversation that filters through his own inner ear piece, but he continues fiddling with the strings of his guitar.

“Running ‘Meet Me’,” the director affirms. “Sarah, stand by.”

Harry’s eyes dart over to Mitch and he nods as a sign to begin. The guitarist clears his throat and strums the opening chords.

Meet me in the hallway

“M’gonna go wait in the hall…”

Meet me in the hallway

“Give you some space to think and then we’ll talk, yeah?”

I just left your bedroom

“I never wanted to hurt you.”

Give me some morphine

“I hope you got all the material you wanted.”

Is there any more to do?

“Please don’t go.”

Just let me know and I’ll be at the door, at the door

Hoping you'll come around

Just let me know I’ll be on the floor, on the floor

Maybe we’ll work it out

********

“Maybe I shouldn’t go,” Maleah offers. “I can catch a return flight tomorrow,”

Alani sits up in her bed and shakes her head. “No, Mi, it’s okay. I’ll be fine,”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. It’s probably just a stomach bug or something,”

Maleah gives her friend a tight squeeze and pulls away to read her face. “Let me know if you need anything, I’ll come right back,”

“Thank you,” Alani says, forcing a smile. “I’m so sorry to put a damper on your last day.”

“Nah, there’s nothing to worry about. Feel better soon, Nani.”

The door closes softly and Alani burrows deeper into the covers. She tries to bury the emotion back under a lock and key, but a gentle sob fights its way up her chest. It wasn’t supposed to be this way, she cries, but maybe it was. Just as the sun rises and sets, so had Harry entered and exited her life, and maybe that’s exactly how it was meant to be. After all, Alani had gotten exactly what she wanted, hadn’t she? So why does it still hurt?

The snow falls gently outside of her window, but the entire scene blurs into shades of white and grey behind her tears. It had snowed just like this on the day she moved to the city. Shortly after the article about Harry had been published by a small gossip site, Alani had contacted the publishers and threatened litigation if they didn’t take it down. Unsurprisingly, they had also been contacted by Columbia Records and thus, the piece was removed that same day. Despite the quick turnaround, Rolling Stone had caught wind of the storm brewing on social media and reached out to Alani a few days later. They had been impressed that the elusive Harry Styles granted her an interview, but they didn’t push the matter much further. Instead, they had offered her one piece of her choosing to prove herself. If the reviews were favorable, she would be given a regular contributor spot, unpaid of course. They would re-evaluate at the beginning of the new quarter and negotiate from there. When January of 2017 rolled around, Alani’s writing was making surprising waves in the Rolling Stone community, so she had been hired on as a junior writer and assistant to the Editor in Chief. The pay wasn’t great, but it was a leap in the right direction.

Despite everything that had changed in a year, a string of random letters on a building that Alani passed a million times had brought her emotions right back to the day she had tried so hard to forget. Her phone buzzes under the covers and she reaches out a hand to locate it. Her editor’s name appears and she answers it quickly.

“Hello?”

“Darling, hello! Where are you?”

“Oh my god,” Alani groans. “Vanessa I’m so sorry,”

“Is everything okay?”

Alani sits up and clears her throat. “I have food poisoning,”

“Christ, from where?”

“Bisous,”

Vanessa sighs. “Poor thing. Okay, no worries we’ll just reschedule,”

“I’m so sorry, I’ll make it up to you,”

“No need to be sorry, get some rest and we’ll catch up later!”

The call ends and Alani gawks at the time. 7:30 already? She slumps back under the covers and sifts through her social media, wincing when she sees several of her friends posting about the line outside of Madison Square Garden. No, Alani decides sternly when the sudden urge to go stirs in the pit of her stomach, absolutely no fucking way.

********

“10 minutes!”

Harry scans the crowd from the monitor backstage. He pinches his lower lip between his index finger and thumb as the nerves settle in.

“The house is packed,” Jeff comments with a hand on the singer’s shoulder. “And there’s still a crowd outside,”

“We did it?”

“You did it,”

So why does it still hurt?

“Thanks for everything,” Harry says, bringing his manager in for a hug. “Couldn’t have done it without you.”

Jeff pats Harry on the back. “All in a day’s work for the dream team.”

Before heading out, Harry stops one of the crew members and asks if any of the guests on his list have arrived yet. Names are read off, friends from different inner circles over the years, but there’s one name in particular that isn’t called. He offers a thumbs up and a forced grin before making his way to the stage.

It always surprises the technical crew at every venue that Harry has specific lighting requests for the house. Performers had their individual preferences, this wasn’t unusual, but no one made a bigger deal about being able to see the crowd like Harry did. He enjoyed being able to see each person and connect with them, especially when performing an album that was as personal as this one. But in every sea he searched, one face was always missing. Tonight’s audience, much to his disappointment, was no different.

The crowd cheers as “Sweet Creature” fades out and the lights on stage dim. More than half of the show has already gone by and they’ve reached the point that is always a little harder to get through. Harry takes a swig from his water bottle and clears his throat to fight the lump that forms. He breathes in deeply and “Meet Me in the Hallway” begins, but no matter how hard he tries to focus on the technical aspects of his performance, it’s nearly impossible not to get dragged back into the moment when the song was written.

“I should go back,”

“H, I don’t know if that’s such a good—”

“I have to go back.”

And so he had. After two hours of pacing the airport lounge, Harry had jumped into an Uber and sped back to the hotel. It had taken another agonizing twenty minutes to explain his situation to the front desk workers and retrieve his old room key, but it was no use. He was too late. The bed was still unmade, but there was no sign of Alani save for the faint scent of Baby Honey and a gold necklace tucked away between the sheets.

The flight back to the mainland had already departed by the time Harry stumbled through the hotel lobby, and there wouldn’t be another one for three more hours. In the meantime, he decided to get some fresh air and clear his mind, hoping all the while that he would find Alani at the edge of the beach waiting to run back into his arms. She never did, and he was left with all the words he wished he had said.

I walked the streets all day

Running with the thieves

‘Cause you left me in the hallway

Just take my pain away

Just let me know and I’ll be at the door, at the door

Hoping you'll come around

Just let me know I’ll be on the floor, on the floor

Maybe we’ll work it out

********

“Great show,” praises Rob Sheffield, author of one of Harry’s favorite books, Love is a Mix Tape. “Drummer’s incredible,”

Sarah beams and Harry flashes her a grin. “Thanks. It’s Sarah’s band, really. I’m just the frontman,”

“Well she kicked ass. All of you did, and I can tell by the way the floor was shaking that I’m not the only one who thought so.”

“Thank you so much, that means a lot.”

More guests filter in and congratulate Harry and the rest of the band, but while he sincerely appreciates all of the love, he can’t help the way his eyes flicker to the door every once in a while in the hope that someone else will straggle in. He slowly loses that hope when the room empties and the night drags on.

********

This isn’t ethical, Alani chastises herself, this is wrong on every level and you’re gonna pay. She runs her fingers over the Rolling Stone press badge in her hand and stares at the marquee towering over her. What the fuck are you doing?

“Excuse me!” Alani calls when she sees an employee slip through a side door. “Hi, I know I’m really late but I’m actually here with Rolling Stone,”

The blonde-haired woman blinks and scans over the badge with an unamused look on her face.

“Nice try,”

“No, wait,” Alani begs. “I have to get in there, please—”

“You and every other girl within a twenty-five mile radius.”

Alani takes a deep breath and re-groups. “You don’t understand. I really need to get back there, I’m working on an important piece,”

As the struggle continues, another woman in stiletto heels exits through the side door with a clipboard in tow.

“My name is Alani Hale, see? Please just—”

“Wait,” the woman with the clipboard intervenes. The name sounded strangely familiar, probably from the blacklist, in which case security would need to be notified. “What did you say your name was?”

Alani holds her badge out and swallows hard. “Alani Hale, junior writer for Rolling Stone.”

The woman checks through the blacklist but the name isn’t registered. She does a cursory glance over the V.I.P section and her finger lands on a note that reads “Mahealani ‘Alani’ Hale—Code Carolina: escort backstage and inform Mr. Styles immediately.”

“Follow me, please,”

Alani trails behind, doing her best to keep up with the long strides of the woman with the clipboard.

“Marta to security, I have a Code Carolina,” she murmurs into her ear piece. “Repeat, I have a Code Carolina.”

Alani’s heart races as they zig-zag through the arena. Did Harry know that she was coming? Had Mitch told him that they saw each other at Bisous? The answer was no, Mitch hadn’t told and Harry didn’t know. He had only hoped. Unbeknownst to Alani, her name was printed on the Madison Square Garden list and on every list of every show in all the countries scheduled. Through Paris and all through Rome, Harry had looked for her face in the crowd and he dreamed that one day his efforts wouldn’t be in vain.

“Wait here,” Marta instructs, leading Alani to a back room with mirrors, a couple of couches, and a clothing rack. “Someone will be with you shortly.”

Before she can ask any questions, Marta is gone and the sound of her heels echo down the hall. Alani takes a deep breath and her lungs are immediately filled with the familiar scent of vanilla. Her eyes carefully rake over the scene and land on a familiar white shirt hanging on the rack and the words “Enjoy Health, Eat Your Honey.”

“Thief,”

“I meant to return it.”

Alani spins on her heel and Harry stands with his fists shoved deep inside the pockets of his flared pants, eyes cast down at the floor. She tugs on the sleeves of her coat and offers a shy smile.

“It’s okay, looked better on you anyway.”

A brief silence follows and they size each other up like it’s a gunfight, each waiting to see who will draw first. His hair is longer and curlier, Alani notices, chest and shoulders broader, too. But there’s a familiarity in his creased brow and in the heart shaped curve of his cupid’s bow. Harry does his own inventory; dark, almond shaped eyes, check. Round face, cinnamon skin, check and check. Her long, wavy locks are now shoulder length, but he’d recognize the scent of Baby Honey anywhere. The two are absorbed in their own silent assessments for a moment longer, but Alani quickly gets the urge to flee after she counts too many similarities between this Harry and the one that left her with a broken heart.

“I should go,” she croaks, taking a step back. “I shouldn’t have come—”

“Why did you?” Harry asks earnestly.

Alani tugs at a loose thread on her sleeve before crossing her arms. “Saw your name outside and got curious. For a while there, I started to think that maybe I imagined you,”

Harry doesn’t know what to do with the knowledge that he had haunted her as much as she had plagued him. He had spent so long believing that he meant nothing to her, but nevertheless, a part of him left room for her return.

“You did, this is a hologram projection,”

Alani smiles and her shoulders relax at his humor. It really was him.

“Did you enjoy—”

“I didn’t see the show—” they speak at the same time, eager words overlapping.

“Oh,” Harry laughs softly. “You didn’t miss much,”

Alani shakes her head and takes a single step forward. “No, that’s not true. I’m sure it was amazing,”

Harry offers a coy grin, the shadow of a dimple on his left cheek. One hand emerges from his pocket and his knuckle brushes against the tip of his nose. Alani catches sight of the silver rose on his finger and she still remembers how it feels under the pad of her thumb.

“Are you hungry?” he asks softly, pulling her from her reverie.

“What?”

“Have dinner with me?”

Alani blinks, her throat suddenly dry. “Oh. Well I don’t know, I don’t wanna interrupt—”

“Never an interruption,” Harry assures her.

She nods and he takes a step back.

“M’gonna go change,” he explains. “I’ll just be a minute.”

“What, you don’t wear custom Marc Jacobs suits to dinner?” She teases.

He grins, amused, and continues backing away towards the door before correcting her. “It’s Gucci.”

Alani rolls her eyes and he disappears into the hallway.

When Harry reemerges in a beanie, puffy coat, and light wash denim jeans, he leads them through a series of tunnels and exits.

“Where are we going?” Alani asks, bracing herself for the snow outside.

“It’s a surprise.” he offers and she doesn’t fight him on it.

********

“We’re not eating here?”

A soft smile falls on Harry’s lips. He hadn’t realized just how much he missed her incessant questioning.

“No,” he replies, opening the passenger door with one hand and passing her the bag that contains their dinner. “Too crowded,”

“Oh,”

It made sense that Harry would want to keep a low profile and avoid any possible paparazzi sightings of the two of them, but it still felt strange to worry about such things after they had lived so carefree in Hawai’i. But that was then, and this was now, things had inevitably changed.

“D’you wanna play some music?” Harry asks, settling behind the wheel. The parallels between this moment and their first excursion together make her chest tighten.

“How about,” Alani starts. “Your album? Since I didn’t get to hear it live,”

Harry’s breathing hitches. “Well, I dunno—”

“Please?”

He meets her pleading eyes momentarily and, against his better judgment, agrees.

“What’s it called?” she questions.

“It’s just my name,”

“Self-titled, very classy. I like it,”

“I thought about calling it Sign of the Times,” Harry reveals. “But it’s already been done before,”

Alani hums. “Prince,”

“Yeah,” he nods. “But then I also thought about going with ‘Pink,’ because, you know, when in doubt—”

“Go with the pink one,” they say in unison and Alani smiles softly. How had he remembered that?

“And it’s the only true rock ‘n roll color,” she continues.

Harry beams. “Exactly. But then Jeff suggested that we just go with the name. Simple, but effective,”

“Okay, so now that we’ve got the background,” Alani pokes. “And you’ve sufficiently distracted me, can I listen now?”

He swallows and checks the GPS, still twenty-five minutes to go.

“How about we hold off,” he suggests. “Just for now so we can listen to the full thing and really soak it in?”

Alani backs off. “Alright, deal.”

She presses shuffle on the playlist of her frequently played songs for the month and immediately regrets doing so. Clearing her throat, she goes to press skip but Harry stops her.

“S’a good one.” he says gently, so Alani lets Adele fill the awkward space.

If you’re gonna let me down

Let me down gently don’t pretend

That you don’t want me

Our love ain’t water under the bridge

********

Harry opens the passenger door and Alani steps out, her eyes squinting to make out any recognizable landmarks in their surroundings. They remain a comfortable two feet apart and make their way to the entrance of what appears to be some sort of greenhouse. Alani is filled with more confusion, but she doesn’t ask further questions until they reach the white double doors.

“What?” Harry questions. “Never been to the New York Botanical Garden?”

Alani’s eyes widen. “The—wait, you—we’re?”

“After you,” he chuckles lightly, opening the doors.

“Are we even allowed? I mean is it open?”

“I pulled some strings,”

She enters cautiously, immediately met with an archway of blush colored flowers and string lights that takes her breath away. A long, narrow pond in the center reflects the image back and creates a kaleidoscope of pink, green, and golden hues.

“How did you,” Alani begins, at a complete loss for words. “Who are you?”

Harry nods in the direction of an adjacent hallway. “There’s a ballroom set up for a wedding tomorrow night, but Jim said we could crash as long as we clean up after ourselves,”

“Jim?”

“The director.”

“Of course.”

Sure enough, round tables with cream colored tablecloth and elaborate floral centerpieces are arranged around the room. A delicate, yet undoubtedly expensive, chandelier twinkles in the center of the room and casts such a warm glow that Alani momentarily forgets about the snow outside.

“Dig in,” Harry instructs, setting the pasta on the table in front of them.

Alani sits and gently sheds her winter coat as he does the same. Underneath his jacket, Harry wears a yellow shirt that catches her eye with the words “treat people with kindness” printed in black lettering. She freezes when she spots a gold chain with a sun and moon pendant nestled comfortably between above the words.

“How is everyone?” Alani questions politely to shift her attention. “Mitch, Tom, Jeff,”

“They’re good, yeah,” he nods. “How’re Freddie and your family?”

“They’re fine, and he’s living his blissful little life,”

“Good for him. Miss his cuddles,”

And yours, Harry thinks, but he pulls back. Alani offers a shy laugh and thinks about the elephant in the room yet to be addressed: the break-up. It’s worth discussing, but she sure as hell isn’t going to be the one to bring it up.

“And how’ve you been?” Harry asks when the silence stretches out for too long.

Alani chews and ponders the question. “Good. Been working a lot,”

“Where at?”

“Rolling Stone,”

“Really?” he beams. “That’s incredible, congratulations,”

“Thank you,” she replies graciously.

Harry’s chin rests in his palm and he twirls a noodle around his fork. “So you live here?”

“Yeah, in the Village,”

“Wow. Greenwich Village, a real city-slicker now. Traded Stevie in for the Holland Tunnel?”

A bittersweet smile spreads across Alani’s lips at the memory of her beloved Bronco. “Sadly, yes. And you?”

“Malibu,” Harry divulges. “I hate the cold.”

“It’s not so bad. You can always cuddle up with the giant rats,” she jokes, which makes his nose scrunch.

“I’m just gonna pretend you didn’t say that,”

“Speaking of pretend,” Alani wiggles her brows. “You were in a movie after all,”

“I was,”

“I didn’t watch it, sorry,”

Harry feigns offense and Alani quickly back pedals. “I don’t like war movies!”

“And you hated my guts.” he teases, though it pains him that there might be some truth to his words.

Alani shakes her head and fights the urge to reach across the table for his hand. “No, not really. It was kind of the opposite, actually.”

Harry’s eye wanders to the outside of Alani’s wrist and a faint smile creeps across his face when he spots the black outline of a crescent moon. He wonders if there are any new inked designs that he isn’t aware of. Despite all the time that has elapsed, there is a familiarity in her presence that he hadn’t felt even in the comforts of his California residence. It was like kicking off your shoes in the doorway after a long trip. It was like coming home.

They finish their meal and continue their light-hearted banter into the night. Harry tells his favorite stories from tour and Alani wishes more than anything that she could have been there. She details the events of her own busy life in New York and the highlights of working for Rolling Stone, one of which being the time that she got to meet Stevie Nicks in the flesh.

“Did you tell her about your car?” Harry presses enthusiastically.

“No way,” Alani chuckles, draining the last of her drink. “I wasn’t gonna embarrass myself in front of the Supreme,”

“I think she would’ve found it flattering,”

“Naming your child after someone is flattering, not a car,”

Harry shrugs. “I think it’s cute,”

“Yeah well,” Alani sighs. “You’re not like most people,”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

She mulls it over, studying the familiar sea glass irises that she never thought she’d see again. What had Alani meant by that statement? Truthfully, she didn’t know if she could put it into words, nor had she meant to say them in the first place. But something about Harry always made her feel brave, like she could speak her mind uncensored and he would understand without even trying.

“I just meant that you’re, you know,” she starts. “Not judgemental. Like, I could tell you that I think I’m part alien and you’d probably try to help me find my home planet,”

Harry laughs and leans forward with his elbows on the table, an unspoken challenge for Alani to continue her thoughts.

“You make people feel seen and heard,” she says finally with a wistful look in her eye. “I mean, why do you think all those people lined up to see you tonight?”

The last part of her statement is a deflection from what she really wants to say, which is that Harry makes her feel seen and heard. Despite all the time and space between them, it was still true and it terrified her. There was only so much bravery that Harry’s presence could evoke. The mood shifts suddenly when Alani’s phone buzzes and the name “Mason” with a pink heart emoji lights up the screen next to her glass of water. Harry hadn’t meant to look and he deeply regrets that he did.

“You have a boyfriend,” he comments dejectedly, and though he hadn’t meant it to be accusatory, all words carry the sting of judgment when falling on guilty ears.

“Oh, and I’m sure you’ve stayed celibate this entire time,” Alani bites back.

Harry’s brow furrows. “I wasn’t—I didn’t mean—”

“I’m sorry, this was a mistake,” she apologizes, standing with her coat.

“Wait,” he jumps up. “What just happened?”

“I have to go—”

“Just stop for a minute, please,”

Alani stops in her tracks and turns back to face Harry slowly. His jaw is tight and the crease between his eyebrows is deeper than she remembers.

“I’m sorry,” she begins carefully. “Thank you for tonight, but I really shouldn’t be here—”

Harry’s eyes clamp shut and he runs a frustrated hand through his messy curls.

“Can you stop acting like you’re doing me a favor by leaving and just talk to me?”

“What do you want me to say?” Alani pushes back. “‘I’m sorry that I saw your name in flashing lights and I got caught trying to spy on you’?”

“Alani—”

“‘I’m sorry that I tried to move on’?”

“Stop apologizing—”

“I’m sorry that I fell in love and fucked it all up because I was afraid and I’m sorry that I betrayed the one person who meant everything to me,”

Silence falls between them and the only sound is the sniffling of Alani’s nose as she tries, and fails, to hold back the emotions that pour over.

“That’s why I went,” she continues, voice wavering. “Because I’m selfish and I couldn’t stay away. Every single day, I’m reminded of how royally I screwed everything up and it tears me apart, so I went to try to make things right and take some of that pain away. Even though I hurt you and there’s nothing I can ever do to change that,”

Harry swallows hard and his eyes sting, but Alani speaks up again before he can respond.

“So please,” she begs. “Please, just let me finally do something right by you and let me go,”

He takes a cautious step forward and shakes his head. “I don’t want to,”

They both hold their breaths, anticipating the other person’s next draw.

“And maybe that makes me selfish too,” Harry adds. “‘Cause I went back that day, back to the hotel,”

Alani blinks. “You did?”

“Yes,” he nods. “Because I wasn’t mad that you published the article, I was scared that it was the only reason you were with me—”

“Harry—”

“But then I realized that I didn’t care,” he laughs dryly. “Because I still loved you, and I figured that having you— having just a little bit of your heart and your attention—was worth it, even if you didn’t really love me back,”

He takes another step forward and the toes of their shoes nearly touch. “And maybe I’m being selfish now by asking you to stay, but you’re not the only one trying to get rid of the pain,”

Alani takes a shallow breath and studies the eagerness in his eyes. The sight makes her chest pound.

“I’m sorry that I ever made you doubt,” she whispers. “But I meant every word I said, you were everything to me. You were the sun that my life revolved around and I was terrified of losing you because the truth is that I hate the cold, too,”

Harry gently reaches a hand up to her cheek and Alani leans into the warmth of his touch.

“Can I show you something?”

You and your goddamn surprises. “Yes.”

He leads them down several winding hallways before flicking a light on in the gallery. Alani’s heart stops when she sees it.

“Not quite as impressive as the real thing,” Harry offers. “But Ms. O’Keeffe did a pretty damn good job,”

An original Georgia O’Keeffe painting of a waterfall, their waterfall, the one that Alani had mentioned all that time ago, is displayed proudly on the wall before them. A replica had hung above the bed they shared on many nights and all at once a faint memory resurfaces.

“Where did you say the original was?”

“New York Botanical Garden,”

“M’gonna take you one day,”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

Alani takes a step closer to the artwork and examines the details of the oil on canvas. A few steps behind, Harry is only concerned with her reaction and pays little attention to the piece of art on display. As far as he was concerned, Alani was the only one worth admiring.

“Do you remember what you told me when I asked why you went to the falls to write?” Alani asks.

Of course Harry had, but he remains silent to let her continue.

“You said that you liked going there,” she adds, deliberate. “Because it made you forget about every bad thing that ever happened to you, because none of it was real in comparison to the feeling of standing in front of that waterfall,”

Harry nods gently, but he still doesn’t speak.

“Do you know what that feeling is called?”

“No,”

“It’s called home,” Alani says softly, turning to face him. “It’s what I felt, what I feel, when I’m with you,”

His breath hitches and he stands frozen as she carefully walks toward him.

“And while we’re making wishes come true,” she smiles delicately. “I never told you what I wished for the day we saw that rainbow,”

“What did you wish for?” Harry searches.

Alani’s eyes fall to his parted lips. “That you would kiss me.”

His mouth curls at the edges and he releases a long breath. “Think maybe I can deliver on that one, too.”

Harry leans in, ever so slightly, and Alani closes the gap. They had been standing mere inches apart, but the meeting of their lips bridges an entire chasm. Over and over again, like waves against the shore, their mouths collide desperately as they pull each other closer with no intentions of ever letting go.

********

February 14, 2018

“Comment est le temps?”

Alani peers up at Harry and shields her eyes from the sun behind his back. “What does that mean?”

He grins softly and kisses the top of her head before taking a seat on the balcony next to her.

“Means ‘how’s the weather?’,”

“Oh,” she leans over, lips puckered for a kiss. “Full of perfectly Parisian sunshine,”

“Try sayin’ that ten times fast,”

Alani swipes his pink, heart shaped sunglasses and slips them onto the bridge of her nose with a contented sigh. Ahead, the Eiffel tower stands proudly in the distance and the lenses of her glasses tint the entire scene in a picturesque rosy glow.

“La Ville de L’amour,” she hums. “Did I say that right?”

“Oui,”

“Hey, you know what I saw on the room service menu?”

Harry shakes his head. “No, what?”

“Piña coladas,” Alani wiggles her brows. “Think they deliver at midnight?”

He chuckles lightly and his hand takes purchase on her knee. “They better,”

“Never had a Parisian piña colada. Sounds romantic, though.”

“Sure does, sweets.”

Alani stands and reaches for Harry’s hand. He accepts and rises to his feet, pulling her close. Below, the sounds of the city serenade them as they gently sway in the chilly breeze. When Harry feels Alani shiver, he hugs her to his chest and rests his chin comfortably on the top of her head. She feels his steady heartbeat against her cheek and smiles softly, fingertips smoothing up and down his back.

“Are you ready for Valentine’s Day surprise number one?” he asks, pulling away slightly to meet her eyes.

She narrows her eyes. “Where are we going?”

Harry pulls back with a mischievous smile, hands still attached to hers, and leads them back inside.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

Alani giggles but she doesn’t push. Instead, she happily follows him out of their room, down the hall, and into the bustling streets of Paris.

We don’t know where we’re going

But we know where we belong

And oh we started

Two hearts in one home

It’s hard when we argue

We’re both stubborn

I know, but oh

Sweet creature, sweet creature

Wherever I go, you bring me home

Sweet creature, sweet creature

When I run out of road

You bring me home

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