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bubblyani · 3 years

Text

The Letter

(Melvin Purvis x Reader)

A Melvin Purvis One Shot

Fandom: Public Enemies (2009) Michael Mann

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 6.6k+

Summary: The day when the FBI plans to catch John Dillinger, you finally write a letter full of undisclosed affections to Melvin Purvis, the love of your life.  

Author’s Note: Please note, this is all based on the fictionalized version of the character played by Christian Bale. It was a challenging concept but very happy with the outcome. Maybe I’m just “Bumping Gums*” but, hope y’all enjoy!!

“What are you thinking about?”

That familiar, male voice inquired. Cool yet affectionate; lingering in the darkness long enough for a female voice to hum before responding:

“Me? just things…” she began, her voice comprised of a much greater familiarity above all others, “Things I wanna say to you. I…” a chuckle arose, “It’s silly but…” she inhaled deep, “I just want to, write them down…for you”

“What?…like in a letter?”

“Uh huh!”

“Why? I’m right here” Her giggles seasoned his genuine curiousity,“It’s not the same. I…” she inevitably paused, “I’m just shy” as softness smeared over her tone. “Oh…” he decided to follow suite, “…somehow I don’t believe that” with his words exiting in the form of purrs, the two pairs of lips finally met. The kiss, it was chaste. Yet the sound remained crisp. And the shared chuckles that soon followed, were crispier. Audibly vivid at its finest.

Sheer pity, for it merely was a memory. Such a pity, for it vanished the very second your eyes dared to open.

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(1934)

A heavy sigh left your lips in disappointment. Arms folded, your right index finger wandered over your silk robe, in detail. It had no other option, especially when your lips could not indulge his own, when your eyes could not indulge the only loving gaze that truly mattered. Thus, there you were, running your fingers over the silk of harsh reality. Nothing to imagine, nothing to relive.

All the while you stood, staring at the door ahead. The door from where he just left.

It was a lazy afternoon, and anxiousness had found its way deep into your bloodstream. Woken nerves, uneasy stomach, the pounding heart with great speed and clarity. Harsh reality had turned to the worse, grabbing you by the shoulders, only to force you to stare deep at it.

Face the facts, it uttered. But which part of you wanted to do so?

Though being the sole occupant in the room, your pounding heartbeat did not fail to drown your very own hearing. This feeling, you despised it, to the core. If only it would stop.

Until it finally did. But only when you spun back around in a split second. For you decided to take action on it instead.

Planting yourself firm on the wooden desk, hands were occupied in the hurried dance as drawers were pulled, and stashes of paper were grabbed and dropped out before you. But once the hands found their way to a beautiful pen inside, all actions reduced pace. Holding it with care, your eyes grew warm by the mere sight. For the pen, it was a symbol of things a many, and one in particular. The one which cost you a heavy sigh, before opening the cap and let the pen make take its course on the paper. And just like that, you finally wrote down two words. Two out of the many your heart ached to speak into existence:

Dear Mel…

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - The sigh that followed soon after, was relieving. It was liberating. In truth, even a smile seemed possible. Hence, your intentions were clear.

“Dear Mel…” leaning forward, you read it out with warmth. For you were prepared to permit the ink to reunite with the paper once again, and linger on a little longer:

Looks like I finally found a reason to sit down and write this letter to you. Honestly, I feel like laughing, cause I never thought I’d end up doing this.  

Chuckling to oneself, you proceeded to write:

But I know if I don’t do this now, I would regret it. Cause now I finally know you deserve to read every last bit of my thoughts and feelings. All that I have hidden for too long. Before it’s too late.

Seeing you walk out that door wasn’t anything new. But when you did it this afternoon, it felt different. My heart, it felt something. It was heavy! That’s the word. Was I worried? afraid? I don’t know. All I know was that, it was too much. Enough for me to remember your effect on me.

Those words may have been generalized, yet you were astounded by the comfort you sensed when writing them. Inhaling deep, you kept on:

You were not a man I expected to ever meet in my life, Melvin Purvis. Never for one second. Out of all the folks here in Chicago, why would we ever meet? Whatever reason it was, I am very thankful. I am very thankful I opened my door to the hallway that night.

And I am thankful for Mr. Lloyd, and for that man in the navy blue coat.

Your words, they brimmed with sincerity. Looking up from the paper, you couldn’t help but stare into the wall. It was simply inevitable. Especially when every bit of detail began to flow into your consciousness, only to unfold the memory of that fateful night in your mind.

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

Chick Webb’s “Blues in my Heart*” playing in the radio, certainly did not fail to mirror your heart to perfection. For the melancholia was mutual. And the dim lights illuminating the apartment in the late evening, seemed to have sealed the emotion shut.

Memorable was your deep sigh, along with warm cup of tea that rested on your hands:

“I figured he, of all people would vouch for me, but instead he just…hung up” You remembered uttering, tone enriched with sadness whilst imitating a telephone being disconnected.

“Well…” a gruff voice began, “…if I were your Old man, I would never pull that nonsense”

You looked up, to set your eyes over at your neighbor Wilmer Lloyd, sitting across from you in his pajamas. A spritely gentleman in his late seventies, Lloyd was the friend, who in time became the father figure you wished you had.

Amused by his temper filled response, You chuckled with disbelief:

“Mr. Lloyd, your daughter had to move to another city, cause you didn’t like the fella she wanted to marry” you replied, “No need for the unnecessary kindness” adding with a smile, you proceeded to take a sip of the hot beverage.

“What kindness? she is no good kid like you. She married a goon*! ” Lloyd responded in defense, leaning forward with conviction, “While your Pops is just mad cause you’re trying to be a Secretary”

“I bet you a Lincoln* that my folks rather have me marry a goon, than have me find my own way of living” you said, gulping down the rest of the tea.

“Don’t jinx it, kid” the old man grunted, his index finger pointed right at you, “I don’t wanna hate you too”

You laughed out loud. Truthfully, you were relieved to have finally did. The room felt too depressing for too long.

“Alright, kid. I’m beat” the old man sighed, pushing himself up to stand with a grunt. “Goodnight, Mr.Lloyd” You stood alongside him. The two parted ways, with you making your way over to the kitchen, and your neighbor making his way out. As if it was so habitual. For a daily chat with old Wilmer Lloyd, was indeed habitual.

Your first proper encounter with Lloyd was a special one. It was only a few months ago that you moved into Chicago. Stressful work shifts and lack of friends led to an eventual emotional breakdown one fine evening. A seemingly noticeable one, which caused the usually moody Lloyd to peep through his door, only to find you bawling your eyes out in the hallway. The sight of you kneeling before your apartment door in tears, was more than enough for his cold heart to melt, and to voice his concern. All while he helped you gather the groceries that had fallen out of your brown paper bag.

“We all gotta start somewhere, kid”

That phrase of comfort, was the invisible handkerchief that wiped your tears that day. And as you rinsed the tea cup, that phrase managed to return to your consciousness, being an invisible hand to pat you on the shoulder. Closing the tap, you sighed with relief. For you were once again thankful for the good in humanity.

Until the sound of a gunshot attacked your ears.

Clinging on to the sink with a jump, you felt your heart beat out loud, and there was no stopping. Before any was comprehended, a loud groan soon followed, originating from the Hallway. Your eyes widened. Could it be?

“Mr.Lloyd…” you breathed, as your legs finally made you dash towards the door to open. You gasped out loud, the moment you found Wilmer Lloyd sprawled on the floor, shot.

“Oh my god!…” you whispered, kneeling beside him.

But Lloyd lost your attention for a slight second, for you caught the sight of a man disappearing into the right-side stairwell. The sight was quick and blurry, yet it was evident he was armed. And one particular color was prominent as he left.

The groan repeated, forcing you to focus on Lloyd once again. Which was most important.

“A-are you alright?” A meek inquiry was all that you could do.

“WHAT DOES IT LOOK LIKE, KID?” The old man answered in pain, shifting. Slight relief washed over you, when you noticed he was only shot in the arm. Perhaps it was your heartbeat, or a new set of pounding footsteps nearby. Either way, the sounds grew louder from the left.

“Freeze! Chicago Police-” A voice, a male voice cried out, only to pause, causing you to look over, only to freeze.

Lowering his pistol, a well dressed man stood, surrounded by two others. All in suits and fedoras, and all seemingly alarmed by the sight of you and Lloyd.

“Is he alright, Ma’am?” The first man inquired. “I’m fine. Jesus!” Lloyd responded with annoyance. The man nodded with acknowledgement. Although there was slight embarrassment in the his face, you were simply too distracted by the cool nature of his voice.

“I know this is the wrong time but…” the man uttered, “…but did you see-”

“The shooter? ” you began all the sudden, “…in a navy blue coat? He went that way” pointing towards the right, you added. The muscles of the man’s tensed face relieved.

“Thank you, ma’am…” he breathed, before making a dash, “Boys! Take this man to the hospital” his commanding voice trailed behind him, indicating Lloyd. All before he himself disappeared into the stairwell.

And to your luck, the two able bodied youngsters knelt over the old man to do the needful. “The bullet is still inside. He’s gonna be alright, ma’am”

“Thank god! You heard him, Mr.Lloyd” you said, “Let’s go”

“Eh…” Lloyd muttered, holding the wound whilst being carried, “Not that I’m overjoyed about getting shot, but I gotta say I’m more than happy to know I’m not gonna die tonight” he grunted. To which you finally smiled behind him:

“Not in a million years…”

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

The sound of loud sirens shattered your trail of reminiscence. Sirens, you gasped. For they suddenly brought you worry. Was he in trouble already?

Parting from the pen and paper, your hands pushed you to rise and scurry towards the window. Except you merely saw a youngster getting his ear pulled by an angry policeman, for fiddling with the police car siren.

You clutched your chest, sighing with relief to see. The fact that daylight yet reigned supreme was also sufficient evidence for you to rationalize your new-found relief. He was safe, wherever he was.

Returning to the desk, you picked up the pen. Glancing at it with affection, you proceeded to write once more:

Because of the accident that night, I found myself meeting a man who fascinated me instantly. So , you could understand how frustrated I was when I couldn’t even thank him.

You smirked upon those words. Not soon before you continued writing:

But then again, who knew I would have the actual luck to see him again two days later? At a place where I least expected. All thanks to a Bad Customer.

Akin to a Moving Picture, or a Talkie*, that very moment began to project into your memory. All the while your index finger managed to twirl a piece of your hair with nostalgia.

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

“Apparently it was just some low level goon. Well, at least that’s what the Police told Mr.Lloyd…when they took his statement. But I don’t buy it, no. Why would those Federal Agents be there if it was?…”

You said, tying up the white, cotton waist apron over your baby blue waitress uniform.

“Goodness! I really wouldn’t know what I would have done if I were you, Sweetpea” Cathy, your best friend replied while she followed suite.

Once the hair was fixed, the two of you headed to the kitchen, “Everyone! Look who’s changed her shift!” Cathy cried out, urging the other employees at the Diner to focus on you. There were cheers, bringing out the brightest smile in you. It was official.

Living with the Great Depression which has affected all, you were grateful even for the employment at a Diner in the city. A temp job, as you called it yourself. Until that very morning, you were assigned to the later shift and spent several weeks parted from Cathy. Fortunately, upon your boss’ satisfaction, you were finally offered the shift you always wished for: The morning shift.

You graciously used the first hour that morning for familiarization, which mainly included the customers. And that was indeed the part that fascinated you. For the customers were diverse with each shift. And the mornings were mostly welcomed by blue collar workers.

“Cathy! They’re waiting for the pancakes”  “Oh! Shoot! I’m on it”

Listening to Cathy’s response in the background, you shook your head with amusement. You watched your friend waltz over to the eagerly waiting booth. But only before you made your way to the corner of the Diner counter.

“Can I help you, Sir?” A well rehearsed phrase exited your painted lips with politeness. A young man was the current owner to the corner seat. “A refill” the blonde haired drawled, indicating his empty, white mug on the counter. “Right away” “Thanks, Sweetheart” he replied, whilst the sound of the black coffee being poured, filled your ears. A group of eyes watched you from another corner. It was certain. And sure enough, your stealthy eyes caught the sight of some men sat across the diner. All sniggering. “Ya know…” the Blondie continued as he leaned forward, “my boys over there…” he indicated the suspicious group, “…they don’t believe me but, I think you’re one fine girl, sweeter than sugar” he said, flashing a flirtatious smile. “Oh, really?” You inquired with a polite chuckle. “Cross my heart, I hope to die” He was handsome, yes. But he was the handsome you never wanted. The type of handsome that could also break your heart. Besides, his attempt of seduction was misdirected, “So…um…” leaning closer, he began to whisper, “Care to help me prove the boys wrong? Like with a date? Or even a kiss? ” He inquired, his suggestive eyebrows being quite evident.

Oh, that fool, you thought. If you were at liberty to throw your head back in laughter, you would without any hesitation. Yet, it would not be appropriate.

“Ah! I’m sorry Sir, but I’m working” you replied.

“Aww come on!” He groaned, to which you shook your head and took a step back.

“Sorry Sir-Ah!” Except he grabbed you tight by the wrist. And displeasure was the mask he wore.

“Hey now, is that the way you treat your regulars here?” He inquired, increasing volume. Confused and very violated, your heart rate began to speed up. You sensed a threat.

“Let go, Sir!” You muttered in desperate politeness. Yet he did not.

“Why?” He sniggered, amidst your struggle to break free, “Whatcha gonna do, sugar?”

“I believe the lady asked you to let go”

That voice. A voice you could identify. A voice that forced you and Blondie to turn heads. Your eyes widened. Dressed smart and completed with his Fedora, the FBI agent from two nights ago stood before you both. Authoritative yet graceful, he sighed: “Pardon me for intruding, but I know a Regular won’t harass a waitress this way” he said in a casual tone, to which Blondie stood up:  “Yeah?” He snarled, offended, “How would YOU know about being Regulars, smart ass?” “Cause I am one” The Agent answered, before missing Blondie’s surprise punch, only to twist his arm within seconds.

Cries of pain erupted from the young man’s lips, until he was pulled close by the agent. You watched him whisper some words to Blondie’s ear, all before he finally released him. Confidence was nowhere nearby when the blonde man stashed some cash onto the counter, and stumbled towards his group of boys with fear.

You suddenly heard Cathy’s sigh of relief nearby:  “Oh, Thank god you’re here, Mr.Purvis” She said to the Agent, “You just saved my friend” she motioned towards you.

Finally you had the liberty to observe him. Tall and lean with sharp facial features, he possessed the handsome that comforted you. The handsome that formed potential in you. The handsome that attracted you. Sitting on the now empty seat, he flashed you a cool smile: “Melvin Purvis” he said, “I believe we haven’t had the pleasure…” It seemed he did remember you. You smiled back. “No, we haven’t…” you replied with softness, as you held up the pot, “Coffee?”

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And who knew the man that fascinated me, would be you?

I am not ashamed to say, I was over the moon to see you again, Mel. Seeing you for only a few seconds in the hallway, clearly wasn’t enough for me. I was greedy. So greedy I was afraid to admit. But the moment I realized that corner seat in the counter was your usual spot, I knew my greed was not in vain. I was greedy, to get to know someone so badly. So, when you saved me from Blondie, you also saved yourself a spot in my heart. I just didn’t know it at that moment.

But I do remember when I finally did.

When one serves a regular customer long enough, certain facts become known. Be it their usual breakfast order, their favorite beverage, or the guilty pleasure one indulges once in a while. But apart from that, conversation comes into play as well.

I don’t think you knew how happy you made me every time we talked, even while you had your Eggs and Toast. Whatever it was, I enjoyed them all. All topics, from about the mouthy janitor, to the famous FBI cases, which were solved or ongoing. But I was also happy when you also had the time for me, to know about my crazy stories about customers in the late shift, or even just about myself. Which surprised me the most.

You finally became aware of the smile you wore throughout writing. Though you managed to relax your facial muscles, the smile remained at default. Thus, you kept on with your words:

Mel, you made me look forward to work everyday. And that was one huge favor. Waitressing was never this girl’s dream. Another job was. And you know what.

“I know…” you remember saying, as you wiped the Diner counter, “Secretary, A Nice Office…Even my own folks think it’s a silly dream for a girl like me-”

“That doesn’t mean its your truth” Mel, your calm, unfazed reply, those words shook me. You were right. You made me feel braver. You made me want to work harder. You made me feel like anything was possible. And that was when, I finally saw that special spot you had in my heart. Oh Mel, it felt like an earthquake in here. I was affected. I couldn’t even sleep that night. Cause that spot of yours made me realize, I had fallen for you. Fallen in love with you.

Placing your left palm over your chest, it did not take you long to relive that magical feeling whilst you wrote:

Suddenly, I couldn’t look you in the eye anymore. And I’m sorry for that. I may have looked busy with customers for some days, but that was me struggling. I was at a war with myself. A constant battle with my eyes to not care for you more, a battle with my lips to not tell you, how much I pined for you.

But as you remember, I finally did.

And the morning when you did, felt to be a landmark of your bravery.

Upon serving his breakfast, you retreated to the kitchen with haste. The fact you did not even acknowledge Melvin’s usual “Thank you” proved strangeness. Generally, when employees were seen standing at the back entrance of the Diner, one would expect them to be occupied with a personal matter, or even have a smoke break. Except, you simply longed for a break from him.

Seeing Purvis was torture. And that morning felt more torturous than ever. Your desire for him multiplied with every single visit.

Rubbing your forearms to fight off the spring chill, You took a deep breath. What was that you feared? Confessing your feelings? Or the mere possibility of being refused?

“What are you doing? Out here in the cold?” You gasped, looking up to find Melvin standing before you.

“I-” you paused, as Melvin took off his long coat, and slung it over your shoulder with no hesitation. A warmth protected you all the sudden. Was it the coat? Or was it him?

“Are you unwell?” He inquired. You shook your head, not taking too long to finally settle your eyes on his. And there it was: the speeding pulse, the torture, the multiplication of desire. Eyes growing wider with concern upon your speechless look, Melvin shot glances at both directions with stealth: “Is anyone bothering y-”

Only to be intruded by your lips pressed against his.

Oh, Mel! What did you do to me?

With a deep shudder, you kept writing: Why did your lips taste like the sweetest pie in all the world? I’m sorry if my ink turns messy here. It’s just that thinking about it, I just hope my heart won’t burst and bleed. Tasting that sweetness, I was ready to risk it all. Ready to accept the worst fear to come true.

You had a fair point. Especially when his lips remained unmoved throughout your kiss. Which forced you to move back quick, and blush with embarrassment: “I-I’m sorry…” you blurted, struggling with one’s movements as you handed over his coat back and turned to leave.  “No! please…” Melvin breathed, stopping you with his hand on your shoulder, “I’m sorry…” he stressed, “I suppose I was just caught by surprise” with a chuckle soon after. “Believe me, it wasn’t planned” you chuckled alongside him, relaxing a little. “Although I was hoping…” he began, “If I could take you to dinner one night…” Your eyes widened, but your heart bloomed.

But life was kind enough to gift me a date instead. A date with the best man I know.

“Yes! You can…” you answered immediately, “And please…no need to call me Ma’am anymore, Mr. Purvis” you smiled. To which he smiled back with a hint of mischief, which seemed surprising for the 30 year old Agent:

“Then, there’s no need to call me Mr. Purvis anymore either”

A date that I had always dreamt about. Not with a boy, but with a real gentleman. It had come true. Were you reading my thoughts this entire time?

Bashful giggles erupted from your lips upon writing. It was a date to remember :The fancy restaurant, the fine dining, the stimulating conversation basked in soft jazz and candlelight. Watching and taking in every fine line that adorned his beautiful, statuesque face brought you pride.

Sitting with you, getting lost in our own world, it was no doubt that I was the luckiest woman in the entire restaurant that night.

“I had a wonderful time, Mel. Thank you” Your words were enveloped with warmth and sincerity.

It was late, and Melvin had brought you back home like the gentleman he was. Opening the car door for you, he surprised you with just a smile, no other reply. Which forced you to raise your eyebrows, evidently confused. Could it be that he did not share the exact sentiments as you? Were you not the woman he hoped for by the end of the night? Insecurity began to bubble up within.

“What?” You inquired with a nervous chuckle, “All night you were yapping away, but now suddenly cat got your tongu-”

He gently pushed you against the car. Just so his gracious hands could cup your face, and just so he could plant his lips on yours.

And I was also the luckiest woman in the neighborhood, when you finally kissed me right back.

Sweetness infused with softness, you needed not permission to be fueled with greed at last. For greed finally permitted you to wrap one’s arms around his neck, only to pull him closer. Those lips of his, they had tempted you from the very first moment. And when they finally voluntarily expressed their affection, you were more than ecstatic.

Mel, your kisses were magic. They made me wish if I had all the power in the world to slow down time.

And I felt the very same, when we finally made love that night.

That night, that mere memory. You would be lying if it did not manage to send chills down your spine.

Invitation for a nightcap was your only shameless excuse. For not a single cell of your being, wanted him to leave your sight. Not when he had lit up a flame of desire in you, a few minutes prior. You silently cursed all the passerby’s who forced you both to pull away from the kisses. The kisses that he started by the car. But what could you do? You were surrendered to the laws of love.

Thus, the mere act of turning on the Crosley* Radio, became an involuntary act of seduction. Rudy Vallee’s “If I had a Girl like You*” filtering out from the speakers, gave life to the entire apartment. And it did ever the same to you, tempting you to sway your body from side to side. But your body felt so much vigor, when Melvin gave up on patience, only to hold you by the waist, spin you around just so his hungry lips could taste yours once again.

Melvin kissed you, and you kissed him. Slow, articulate, these lips were making up for every day they did not touch one another. All those days full of remorse.

Thus, began a dance between the two lovers. Heated, passionate. A dance consisting of choreography that had existed within all of mankind. Did not matter if it was carrying you bridal style to the bed, or placing you on to the bed without a sound much louder than a mattress squeak, either way, Melvin’s presence exuded safety.

Pleasure and excitement were in a fiery alliance when you savored shedding every piece of clothing off his torso. Never once did you think seeing many layers would bring you so much arousal. Especially when his eyes had nowhere else to look but at you during. His eyes, they burned with desire. And you would be unfaithful to your honesty if you denied the loins that burned within you as a result. For it was evident how much you longed for him. How the hunger led you to provide him the attention he truly deserved with your touch and kisses.

Dressed, he was smart, authoritative. Undressed, he was god-like. And to hear his soft moans amidst your attention was a gift. A gift that aroused you further. Yet before your eager hands could fondle his hardened shaft, he flipped you with impatience to focus on you instead. His kisses were other-worldly, making sweet contact on your soft, naked skin, creating waves of untold pleasure whenever he peeled off each piece of lingerie. Naked you may have been finally, yet you were more than ecstatic with the new outfit you wore: him. The infusion of soft music, sounds of lovers moans and kisses while the bedsheets rustled, were indeed sweeter than nectar. Tantalizing enough for him to finally enter you. Arousing enough for you to accept him. Resulting in unity, love making, deeming soft as the moonlight that shone into the bedroom. Soft, yet impactful that every second remained carved in your mind fresh, like it was yesterday.

Oh Mel, how did your touch made me weak, but gave me power at the same time? How did you make every second of it worthwhile?

You wrote with a sigh, blushes occupying your cheeks. Not before you cleaned up your ink stained fingers, caused by your thoughts of pure distraction.

Why did you get me addicted to your loving? But most importantly, why were you the perfection I dreamt of all along?

Breathless, you would be lying if it did not take you a while to regain your senses. Re-reading the previous sentence written, you proceeded to give the letter further life:  

After that night, I wanted shout out loud from the rooftops full of happiness, I wanted to tell the entire city, no! The entire world of my blessing: My blessing to have a wonderful man like you, Mel.

The simple truth: that was all that it was. And not long since you and Melvin had gotten together, life was suddenly drizzled with an extra dose of joy. An extra dose of encouragement and hope. Work went better for the both of you. Even Mr. Lloyd managed to re-meet him, but this time with more familiarity and respect. Given his interaction with the Agent, it was evident the the older man had offered his blessing and approval, which meant more to you than anything.

Since then my life was bliss, Mel. With you by my side, I knew I could take on anything.

Except, you drew in a sharp breath with a heavy heart.

All until J Edgar Hoover declared those fateful words to America: War on Crime. John Dillinger.

The heaviest sigh left your pursed lips. For a surge of concern was powerful enough to consume you.

Believe me, Mel. Seeing you get promoted to Special Agent in Charge of the Chicago Field Office, it brought me nothing but joy. Seeing you in the papers, I was the most proud anywhere I went. But with that pride, and with that joy, I was also afraid. How could I not be, when you were assigned to catch Dillinger, Public Enemy No. 1?

How could I not think of the risk you had on your life? So afraid for you that it didn’t strike with me that we didn’t see each other for so long after.

Though you were out of sighs, your heart remained heavy with the thought. It was true, soon after his men’s lives were affected by Dillinger and his gang, Melvin did not set foot in your apartment nor in your neighborhood. And surprisingly, you did not feel betrayed. Not one bit.

When you phoned me that one time, I could tell in your voice. I could tell the weight you had on your shoulders. The burden, the responsibility, the guilt.

And to me, it didn’t matter I couldn’t see you everyday anymore. It didn’t matter that I had a hard time missing you or thinking about you. Be it at the diner, the streets, the park, the living room and the bedroom. It didn’t matter to me that I had to pretend my life had nothing to do with yours. All I wanted was for this nightmare to end: to stop the unnecessary deaths of innocent lives. All I wanted was for you to be safe. And I knew you could do it all. Without complicating things.

Thus, when someone knocked on your door a few hours ago today, your fear was justified. You remembered standing by the door, arms folded, only to feel your heart beat out of your chest. And when those loud, rapid knocks attacked the wooden door, you could not help but wonder: Could it possibly be one of Dillinger’s men? Another shooter perhaps? Were they aware of Melvin’s connection with you? Were you about to be leverage?

But to your surprise, you opened the door regardless. Clutching your chest, you could only gasp.

But I never thought you’d suddenly come crashing in this afternoon.

For there stood Melvin Purvis, Fedora at hand, heavy panting accompanied.

Never so soon.

“You were not at the Diner” he said in a hoarse tone, still panting. “I-I took a day off” you answered, with wide eyes,“Mel…” you gulped, taking a step forward “What’s wron-” To which he could only reply with rough kisses, slamming the door shut behind him.

And being in his arms again after possibly endless days and nights, you were certain you did not wish to be anywhere else.

It was as if fate urged me to stay home today, just so I wouldn’t miss your hungry kisses. Just so I wouldn’t miss your love. Something I craved for what felt like forever.

Longing translated into desperate kisses, where tongues wrestled in haste. And passionate lovemaking rushed in soon after. The type of passionate, that demanded every item of clothing make quick stops in different parts of the apartment, only to lead a trail to the bed. The type of passionate, that had his eager hands wander over your naked back, before palming your heaving breasts with impatience. All the while you straddled him, with your hips rolling against his. The type of passionate, that tempted you to gaze into his shining eyes. For they spoke to you, even in silence. How he treasured you, how he savored you, his eyes said it all. And with your responding kiss brimming with moans and emotion, you acknowledged his silent confession, you satisfied his hunger, and accepted his peak of pleasure. All until a new climax was reached together, before collapsing on to the bed with exhaustion.

“Mel…” you panted, sweat further infusing with his, “You still didn’t tell me what’s going on…”

It was only a few minutes later, did Melvin began to speak. Only then were you able to find out about the mission that would happen tonight. The mission to finally catch Dillinger. And as if the floodgates just opened, he kept talking. And all you could do was nod, as he continued to cradle you in his arms.

Little did I know, you came to me in possibly the most fateful day ever.

“You think it will work? The plan?” You inquired, soft. His responsive hum vibrated in his chest. “The source is solid…” he replied, “So…we’re betting on it”

Lifting your head up, you looked at him. Truthfully you could not help but feel sorry. There was a hint of exhaustion in his tone. How far did this man go to make this mission a reality? How many men were sacrificed in the process? Death of many men including Carter Baum, his own partner. Feeling useless, you knew you could only offer him a reassuring soft smile:

“Then it will…” you murmured, placing a chaste kiss on his forehead. His skin seemed magnetic to your lips, causing you to proceed with more kisses. Over his eyebrows, bridge of his nose, and finally his lips, the best place of all. With another greedy peck, you pulled yourself away and sat up. With the afternoon breeze playfully caressing your exposed frame, you were tempted to reach out and grab your silk robe tossed on the edge of the bed, which you did.

“I hope you know I couldn’t risk seeing you, with Dillinger’s men on the loose”

Melvin began. Looking back, you nodded with nonchalance. “Of course…” Wrapping the robe around, your answer was as casual as taking a diner order, “I understand” you added meek, looking down at the knot.

“But…that doesn’t mean I was never here”

You froze. With wide eyes, you looked up at his sitting frame. “What do you mean?” You blurted. Only to gasp, “You-w-were you-?”

Melvin nodded, “Every night around bedtime, from the street…looking at THAT window…” he said, indicating the very window in your bedroom. If only you could just tell him how your heart just began to melt after possibly weeks. If only you were capable of an embrace that told every fiber of his being how moved you were by him. Melvin sighed, running his fingers through his hair:

“I just had to make sure you were safe…” he said, “But today, I…” he paused, “I couldn’t stay away”

“And neither should you…” you replied in an instant, cupping his face, “….you’re only human” you continued with a sigh, “It’s been too long, Mel” your voice grew softer, “ And I missed you” uttering weakly, you proceeded to press your forehead against his. And like that, you both stayed, indulging in the silence with the most innocent physical contact possible.

“This mission…” Melvin began, his warm breath falling on your face, “If I make it out alive-” “Mel, you WILL make it out aliv-” you breathed, before he placed his fingers over your lips.

“If I make it…I’m yours”

He whispered, forcing you to freeze once again. Overwhelming emotion seemed to have frozen you with disbelief, when his sharp features unveiled the softest smile, “As a man, I want to do what’s right for the people” he said, holding your chin, “ I want do what’s right for my heart. And I wanna do it all with you, by my side, always”

And in the blink of an eye, you left through that door, hours before our lives could possibly change forever.

No wonder you made love to me, as if it was your last.

Sniffing, you placed a loving kiss on the pen. For it was the pen Melvin once gifted you with. The pen he hoped you would use when you finally become a secretary. And it did not take long for you to wipe the tears that streamed down your cheeks in silence. What will happen tonight, at the Biograph Theater will end in either two ways. And all you could do was to pray for one in particular. Pray for the one you desperately needed. With another final sniff, you continued to write, until you found yourself finally finishing off the letter you never imagined yourself writing. You wrote your heart out, which left you no regrets:

Before I end this letter, I want to ask you a question.

Do you remember when I was helping you put your tie back on, minutes before you left?

When I did, I felt something. Something warm, something nice. And I won’t lie, I enjoyed it. Cause in the end, it gave me the feeling you always gave me from the moment I met you: Hope. But today, that hope was also protected by a layer of love. A strong layer. To be able to put your tie on possibly every day, would be an honor I’d wear like a badge for life.

Mel, you WILL make it out alive. You and your men, you WILL get it done. Because this letter will be waiting for you. Because I will be waiting for you.

Ready to have more hope, ready to do more good, ready to live our truth, by your side, always.

With love,

Yours forever…

——————————————————

Glossary of 1930′s Terms/Slang Bumping Gums* - 1930’s Slang for “Talk about nothing useful” Blues in my Heart* - Jazz song by Chick Webb and his Orchestra recorded in 1931 Goon*- 1930’s Slang for thug or bodyguard Lincoln*- 1930’s Slang for $5 bill Talkies*- 1930’s Slang for Movies Crosley*- A Radio Brand famous in the 1930’s If I had a girl like you*- Jazz song by Rudy Vallee, recorded in 1930

——————————————————

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hxneyandespressx · 4 years

Text

the holidate

summary: emily and jennifer pair up to be platonic dates for Christmas and New Year’s. little did they know, real feelings would be caught along the way.

pairing: emily prentiss x jennifer jareau (jemily)

word count: 4.9k

☆。*。☆。

Sitting by the bar, Emily took a sip of her second drink of the night. It was nearing Christmas, and the bar was filling up with lonely singles and a few happy couples. At this time in the night, the bar usually would be packed. Now that it was the holiday season, there was less of a turnout. The noirette had been here for a little while, an hour at most, and was drinking her dread away. She hoped to avoid the questions to come at the upcoming family gathering. Every year, on her vacation to her mother’s mansion, all of her extended family members asked Emily one of the following questions:

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

“How’s your career going?”

“What’s it like working in London?”

As she thought about visiting them, Emily sat her head down on the countertop. She had been dreading the visit for weeks. Her family could be a bit much, intense one might call it. There were always arguments between the conservative uncles. Endless gossiping amongst the aunts. Even her grandmother would take her time picking apart all of Emily’s flaws. Never once had there been a quiet holiday without someone (usually Emily) creating chaos, dampening everyone’s festive mood.

Several minutes had passed, her head hanging low from stress, and Emily felt a warm presence standing beside her, leaning against the bar casually. This stranger was able to find a spot due to the bar being at fifty percent capacity. Usually, one would not be able to find a spot to sit down at.

Turning her head at a slight angle, out of the corner of her deep russet eyes, Emily saw the most beautiful woman that she had seen in her entire life. Dressed in a long-sleeved, baby blue mid-length dress with a pair of velvet thigh-high boots, with a black wool peacoat, a petite blonde smiled softly at Emily.

“Drinking your sorrows away tonight?” The blonde said while softly smirking and gesturing at the red lipstick-lined glass. Emily chuckled.

“Sorry. I just hate going back home for the holidays.” Emily sat up from her previous position, gazing into her almost empty drink.

“Don’t worry. I feel the same way. By the way, I’m Jennifer,” the blonde held out her hand, “but my friends call me JJ.”

“Emily.” The women shook hands then JJ took the seat next to the slouching woman. The stranger called over the bartender and ordered a blood orange cosmopolitan.

“A Cosmo. Fancy, aren’t we?” Emily asked with a hint of a teasing tone.

“Liking a fruity cocktail doesn’t hurt anyone.” The bartender hand over JJ her drink and she took a few sips to get the evening going.

Emily shrugged her shoulders and took a long sip of her drink. Indie Christmas music played in the background as the two women sat in silence.

“So… what’s the family like?” JJ decided to start some small talk. What else was there to do at a pub on a Tuesday evening?

“You know… the typical family from the Capitol. A high-powered mother who’s career-driven, a sprinkle of conservative uncles who care about traditions, a dash of gossiping aunts who only cared about themselves, and the cousins whom you haven’t talked to in years. And the crazy grandmother who’s funeral is right around the corner. Then there’s the dead beat dad. And finally, the lonely and depressed single woman who wants to bring someone home for the holidays so then she won’t get pestered by the family with questions. Hint: that one’s me,” Emily shook her head at herself for spilling out the truth of the Prentiss family. “I can only do so much to tolerate them.”

Emily took another sip of her drink.

“Sorry for spilling my guts out. Holidays can be tough, am I right?” JJ chuckled softly and passively waved her hand, understanding where Emily came from. JJ’s home life hadn’t been the best. Her sister died. Her parents divorced. The perfect brew for a lonely middle-aged woman.

“Don’t worry about it,” JJ gently laughed. “I didn’t travel back home for Christmas this year because my mother and I aren’t on speaking terms.”

“Ah…I’m sorry about that.” Emily understood what it was like not having a caring mother. It was difficult to handle, but both Emily and JJ made it through in their own circumstances.

A shared emotion loomed over the pair: the experience of being lonely during the holidays. JJ felt something stir in her heart. Perhaps a sign telling her to go with her instincts. Maybe something new could be starting between them? JJ furrowed her brow, brainstorming ideas to spend more time with the not-so-strange stranger next to her. The gears turned in her mind. She had to take this opportunity, or else it would slip away — to be forgotten forever.

“You know… I do need a partner for a New Year’s Eve party that I got invited to.” JJ said nonchalantly. The blonde was interested in this Emily character. She had to think of a way to see her again.

Emily raised her eyebrows and did her crooked smile.

“I can take you to the party if I get to take you as my friend-date to a Christmas gala that my family attends every year,” Emily countered, “It gets super lonely when you’re the only single, middle-aged woman there.” The brunette set down her third and final drink down for the night.

“Platonic? As in two strangers getting together as friends? During the holiday season?” JJ said, lifting her perfectly coiffed left eyebrow.

“That’s what I’m proposing.” JJ twiddled with her rings nervously underneath the countertop. She did not want Emily to see how anxious she got.

Emily took some time to think about the situation she was getting herself into.

“So… we agree that we are going to be each other’s holiday dates, as friends?” JJ asked Emily as she took a small black booklet and a pen out of her purse. Emily hummed as she sipped her drink, signifying a “yes.”

Writing her phone number down in light blue ink, JJ said, “I guess you can call me ‘babe’ for the weekend.” JJ winked at Emily when she looked up from her mini notebook.

A slight peachy blush formed on Emily’s chiseled cheekbones. The blonde ripped the piece of paper from her little notebook, folded it into a neat square, and placed it in the hands of a blushing Emily. JJ noticed the blush and tried her best to not stare at the gorgeous woman in front of her.

Placing some money as a tip for the bartender, JJ gestured “call me soon” at Emily, leaving the woman sitting by the bar flustered, wondering to herself what she had gotten herself into.

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December 23rd. Dread showed on Emily’s face. She gave herself a pep talk before knocking on the wooden door with the polished brass door knocker. Already regretting her decision, Emily knotted her scarf for the second time to keep the chill wind from nipping her already rosy nose and cheeks. Wanting to keep warm, Emily took out her zippo lighter and pack of cigarettes. She lit one up as she waited out in the cold. 20 minutes went by and Emily noticed a short dark figure approaching the main door.

Taking her last drag of smoke, the young woman dropped her cigarette and stomped on it to get rid of the evidence from her mother. Just to be safe, Emily popped in a few mints to disguise her breath. Then, the door opened, and behind it was Emily’s mother. Elizabeth Prentiss.

“Hello, mother,” Emily snarled with a hint of disgust.

“Emilia.” Elizabeth had a neutral expression when facing Emily. She opened the door wider, letting her daughter in, along with the frosty winter air of December. As she entered the expertly decorated house, Emily took in the scene of the living room. Her little cousins were chasing each other. The uncles were drinking mulled wine and discussing the current events. The aunts were gossiping and making snide comments about their social circle. As Emily walked past her extended family members, a field of judgy looks followed her. Emily sighed, grudgingly waiting for the influx of questions from her aunts and uncles while putting her coat onto the coat hanger, and headed towards the snack bar. While nibbling on some toasted almonds, Emily felt a looming presence next to her. Without hesitation, Emily looked into her mother’s eyes, saying the words leave me alone silently.

“You’re not still smoking, are you?” Elizabeth inquired.

“Uh… no mother, I’m not still smoking. It was just a smoky Uber.”

“No man wants to marry a smoker.”

Emily rolled her deep umber eyes as she walked away from the one person that she resented all these past years.

“Any time I come home for the holidays, I’m showered in a sea of pity and sad glances,” Emily scoffed in anger. “I mean, why is everyone so suspicious of a happy single woman?”

“We just want the best for you, Emilia.”

“Whatever, mother.” Wanting to stay away from Elizabeth, Emily made her home with the home bar.

Couldn’t her mother see how disgusted she was at the mention of “man”? Well, how could she even know her, when Elizabeth Prentiss left Emily, only to be taken care of by a nanny. Since Elizabeth was the US ambassador, she put her career first, family second. Emily always felt she was second to her mother’s career. Well, at least her mother was okay with her being a lesbian. Emily would not say the same for some of the extended family.

Not wanting to get too hung up on her problems, Emily lent out her helping hands to set up the dinner, to be attended by all of her aunts, uncles, cousins, and grandmother. Since Emily’s grandmother was the eldest in the family, she was seated at the head of the table. The setting had to be up to the Prentiss standard: skillfully decorated with garlands, candles, dinnerware, and neatly-folded napkins. The main dish was placed in the center to showcase the work put into it. After everything got set up, everyone gathered around to start fueling up their famished selves.

Not even ten minutes passed before one of Emily’s aunts asked her the dreaded question.

“So, Emily. How are your romantic endeavors going? Found a man yet?”

The thirty-year-old gritted her teeth in frustration. This was the exact conversation that she wanted to avoid. Most of the family acknowledge the fact that Emily Prentiss was in fact, a lesbian. However, they would rather keep quiet about it to remain perfect to their elitist friends.

“I’m dating here and there. Sometimes it does take a while to find the right man for you,” Emily lied through her teeth. She hated doing this every holiday season. Making up lies just to satisfy a person whom Emily only sees on holidays. Emily resented playing the role of “ambassador’s perfect daughter”. She always had ever since her teenage rebellion years.

At her aunt's satisfied expression, Emily felt like she dodged a bullet. She did not feel like starting up an argument or an intervention. She only said that to please her aunt and everyone else. She had learned to say such things to avoid controversy, learning from her teenage rebellion that it never ended well for Emily.

The rest of the dinner went on without an uproar, everyone eating and talking with pleasantries.

Sometime after, the family was sitting around the large living, the fireplace crackling and its warmth filling the room, altogether creating a sense of hygge. One of Emily’s cousins stood up, clearing his throat.

“Could I have everyone’s attention?” Jake Prentiss — an insufferable lawyer that Emily never really got along with — nervously called out. “I have something to say.” Everyone in the room became quiet and gave the spotlight to the man in the middle.

He gently grabbed his girlfriend’s hand, making them stand in the center of the room. Emily mouthed a fuck no underneath her breath, standing underneath the kitchen archway in shock.

“Claire Alexandria Scott, I know it’s only been four months and 8 amazing days,” Jake dropped down on one knee and he took out a small black box, opening it to reveal an engagement ring. “Will you make me the happiest man in the world and marry me?”

The whole family cheered in joyous remarks, as the girlfriend-turned-fiancée accepted the proposal and had the ring put on her. Emily groaned at the scene, zipping up her new jacket, hiding her face in the hood. She felt like hiding away in a closet, never to be seen again.

Frustration boiled within Emily. Why couldn’t she find someone to be happy with? Was the universe playing games with her? Emily always felt that life was a cruel witch, waiting to cast a spell to mess with her. However, this year, Emily felt something different. It was like life was giving her a chance. A chance at love. To be happy, free, in love. Does God want me to be with JJ from the bar? I knew that I felt something when I first saw her. Emily snapped from her thoughts, poured some more wine, and left the joyous celebration that was happening in the family room.

Later that night, in her townhouse, Emily laid awake on her bed. She could not sleep as she had a lot on her mind. Grabbing her robe and phone, Emily quietly tiptoed downstairs and entered the kitchen. Usually, when Emily was stressed, she baked. It was the quietness she appreciated as the cookies cooked in the oven. But, her mind was filled too much with anxiety and stress from the holidays, so the brunette chose a simple task.

Few events had happened that day, and everyone expected Emily to find a man and settle down, now that she’s the only one left single and the youngest of those who grew up with Emily. However, Emily usually was not the type to just settle down, even less so with a man. Many thoughts and emotions went through her mind as the young woman silently worked around the kitchen to make a warm beverage to calm her mind.

Twenty-seven minutes went by and Emily checked the kitchen clock. 3:39 AM brightly lit against the darkness. Sitting by the bay window, Emily stared at the winter scenery, sipping on a hot toddy while watching the snow gently coating the evergreen pines. Her mind filled with thoughts. I wonder what would happen if I called her. Would she say no? Oh God, what if after meeting at the bar, she revoked the offer?

Emily worried about being questioned by few family members tomorrow, or worse, being rejected by the one woman she had momentarily shown interest in. The middle-aged woman bit her lips in nervousness. Hoping that she felt the same, Emily unlocked her phone with her thumb and opened the messages app. Her phone teased her with the blinking cursor on the brightly lit screen.

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Christmas Eve. The family was scrambling around to prepare for the Christmas gala that was supposed to happen that night. The event was to be attended by the A-listers, politicians, anyone of importance. Emily stood in the background of the large family room, sipping on her glass of pinot noir while watching the chaos run amok in front of her. One of the cousins was wrapping presents quickly as a last-minute ditch effort. The children were running around the house, playing tag. Emily’s mother was shouting at people to get ready quickly to take a family photo for her social media accounts.

“Come on, people. We don’t have all day,” Emily’s mother said in an exasperated tone. “All we need is one good picture, then we are good to go for the Christmas gala this evening.” The ambassador tried her best to gather the younger children to the family room.

The gala. That’s all that Elizabeth talked about. Emily was getting tired of it. She rolled her eyes, knowing that her mother only cared about looking good for the public. Since Elizabeth Prentiss was an ambassador, everything was about appearance and being “perfect”. This put a strain on Emily and her mother’s relationship, as Emily had a tough time conforming to what the politicians and other elite people wanted.

She sighed in annoyance. Feeling slightly anxious, Emily bit her nails as she waited for her friend-date to arrive at the Prentiss house. Honestly, Emily could care less if a few family members caused an uproar over the fact that Emily was bringing a woman as a date. They knew of Emily being a lesbian, but they abided by the “don’t ask, don’t tell” policy. One could say that this was Emily’s gesture to finally say “fuck you” to all the conservatives in her family.

Some time passed and the sound of the doorbell rang. Emily walked over to the main door. She opened the wooden door to greet Jennifer Jareau, all dressed perfectly for the gala.

“Wow, um..” Emily felt lost for words. “You’re….uh… beautiful.” She tried to compose herself. What the hell is wrong with me? This is purely platonic. Why am I feeling butterflies in my stomach?

Emily’s eyes did a quick scan to take in what JJ was wearing: a mid-length black lace dress with a high neck, accompanied by a white faux fur shawl, her golden honey locks perfectly curled and set in place.

“You look beautiful as well.” JJ whispered underneath her breath, closing in the space between her and Prentiss. Deciding to be sneaky, JJ quickly pecked Emily’s right cheek. The taller woman stood under the doorway in shock, trying to rationalize what just happened. Friends do this right? I mean I know in Europe they do.

Emily tried to cool her rosy cheeks down as she let in her friend-date. That’s all that it was. Platonic. No strings attached. Just friends attending an event together.

Elizabeth Prentiss saw from the living room archway what was unfolding at the main doorway. She walked over to her daughter to inquire what her plans for the evening were.

“Who’s this, Emilia?”

“Oh.. um... This is Jennifer. She’s my... date,” Emily said. “She’s my plus one for the gala.” A few of Emily’s uncles and aunts huffed and turned their heads away in disapproval. A few of her cousins smiled and silently congratulated her. Clearly, they were eavesdropping on what was happening at the front door.

Elizabeth squinted her eyes at her daughter.

“That’s okay with me,” Elizabeth turned to JJ, handing her phone to the blonde. “Can you take a photo of the family before we all head over to the gala?”

“Uh sure.” JJ took the ambassador’s phone and took a position in front of the Prentiss family. Emily stood in her stance awkwardly, wishing that this predicament had not happened in the first place. After a few quick snaps, JJ took the pictures and handed the phone back to Elizabeth.

“Blurry. Boring. Nope. Nope. Nope,” Emily’s mother said as she swiped through the photos JJ took of the family, also commenting on the “style” the blonde took them in. JJ stood there. She felt like she was being lectured by a school teacher.

“Okay, none of these will do. We will try again tomorrow.” JJ made a neutral expression, almost in disbelief that Emily’s mother would treat her like that. But then again, Emily had told JJ that her mother was like this. Nitpicky, wanting everything to be precise. To be perfect.

After the photoshoot, everyone quickly headed out to their cars parked outside. JJ rode in an Uber with Emily to their destination. During their ride to the event, the two women talked. Oh, how they talked like they were friends from long ago. They stopped talking only when they arrived at their destination.

JJ walked down the white marble steps of the venue. Jazz music could be heard all around the place. Christmas decorations neatly brought the whole ambiance together.

“Wow!” JJ was in shock at the number of people on the floor, mingling and drinking.

“I know it’s a lot… Don’t worry, I got your back.” Emily took JJ from the top of the stairs and straight up to the open bar.

Emily ordered a vodka soda while JJ ordered a Moscow mule. They laughed when they realized they both ordered something with vodka, just in two different flavors. After grabbing their drinks, both the women socialized with the other people at the gala — or rather Emily did, while JJ, who did not grow up in the eyes of politics, watched the scene. JJ stood there, smiling at the woman in her sight. She couldn’t tell if it was because of the alcohol or her own feelings, but JJ felt at peace for the first time in a long time. She felt whole. Complete. Loved.

As she watched Emily Prentiss play the role of ambassador’s daughter, JJ felt a fluttering motion in her heart. It was like the universe was telling JJ that Emily was the one for her. No more second chances. She is the one. And for once, JJ was willing to listen to her heart when it came to this matter. After her four-year relationship with her previous boyfriend, William LaMontagne, ended two years ago, JJ felt she had nothing in the world. A few months after the break-up, the events of her sister’s death and her parents’ divorce unfolded. All of it caused JJ to feel nothing for the next two years. All she focused on was her career. Until that fateful day, at the bar, when she met Emily.

When JJ entered through those wooden doors of the pub, her eyes first laid on Emily sitting by the bar countertop. Her heart fluttered a little, but JJ ignored it, feeling she wasn’t ready to go into a relationship. But, as she got to know Emily more, JJ slowly but surely fell in love with the brunette. It was definitely love at first sight. JJ was not the type to believe in concepts like that. But she was sure about her feelings for the brunette.

The blonde, from afar, stared at Emily working her magic to engage the conversation with her mother and a group of elderly men. All of a sudden, Emily’s voice could be heard loud and clear.

“I’m sorry. You don’t think gay people deserve rights?” Emily questioned while crossing her arms across her chest in anger.

“Well… Just so you know, you are speaking to the lesbian daughter of US ambassador Elizabeth Prentiss. And there’s nothing you can do about it. Yes, I am not the ‘perfect’ daughter, but who cares! Perfect is meaningless in this world. It’s subjective. And I am not sorry for who I am.” Emily stood her ground and walked away from the group she was in with her mother. Elizabeth looked absolutely shocked by that speech. After recovering from the initial shock, the ambassador mouthed I’m proud of you at her daughter.

Everyone in the venue watched Emily as she headed toward JJ.

The blonde held out Emily’s drink to hand it over to her. She also poked Emily’s nose, to lighten the mood.

“You okay, Emily?” JJ asked. The taller woman huffed in frustration. Emily felt like she needed space away from the stuffy elitists.

“Why don’t we get out of here and take a little breather?” JJ offered. Emily nodded her head in agreement and both women took their jackets and walked out through the glass back doors.

They ducked out of the gala quietly. Snowflakes reflected the warm orange lights from the streetlamps. A type of quietness settled between the “couple”. The crisp winter chilled their flushed cheeks, making them sober up a little.

The pair stood in the cold, enjoying the silence. But they knew that this would not last forever, as they would have to go their separate ways once the night ended. Emily and JJ continued their walk around the perimeter of the venue for three hours, just talking about every subject there was to think of. Hobbies. Careers. Art. Music. Hopes. Goals. Dreams. They turned around a corner to arrive back at the gala venue. JJ stopped Emily at the front iron gate.

“Well… tonight’s been fun,” JJ said.

“I agree. This year’s gala was much more bearable having you by my side.” JJ lightly blushed and barely attempted to hide it with her jacket collar. Emily noticed a tinge of color on JJ’s cheeks and softly smiled. The two women had started to fall for each other, twirling around each other like a pair of ivy vines.

Unsure of the time, Emily quickly checked her watch.

“It’s getting late. Want me to drop you off at your place?” Emily offered. JJ smiled happily at the gesture.

“I would love that.”

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New Year’s Eve. The music blared from the stereo system. Lights strobed along with the music. Emily and JJ leaned against the stainless steel railing on the balcony, watching the view below. Many drinks were ordered and downed within the one-and-a-half-hour they had been at the party. The slightly drunk women were playing a game where they made up stories about the people dancing below.

“I think the leather-vest-mate’s up now.” Emily said.

“Oh, okay, he’s an options trader.” JJ pointed at a silver-haired man dancing with his very young date. “Divorced. Two kids at Northwestern. She was his decorator on the new condo, hoping to be wife number three.”

“Very good. Very good,” Emily said, looking at JJ and smiling at her story-making skills.

Both the women turned around and Emily jumped quickly on the scene in front of them.

“Ooh, uh, white satin ruffles. Rented tuxedo. He’s just drenched in sweat. They are definitely getting engaged at midnight.”

“Wow. You’re good.” JJ said.

Emily shrugged at the compliment.

“It’s a gift,” Emily drank some more bubbly champagne, feeling a bit friskier than usual. “By the way, your tits look exceptional in that dress.”

“Thanks. That’s why I bought it.” JJ smiled at the compliment and did a little twirl.

“Overall, you are just beautiful. As always.”

“That’s really sweet of you to notice.” JJ blushed, and she thanked the dark atmosphere of the venue for hiding it. She wouldn’t want her maybe-crush to notice that she was blushing not from the alcohol, but from her burgeoning feelings for the other woman.

Both the women downed their drinks and ordered some more. Once they felt they had enough, the “couple” headed down to the dance floor and had their fun for the night. They danced their feet off. Blew some gigantic bubbles with a long star-shaped bubble wand Beach balls were tossed amongst the crowd. Then the song “(I’ve Had) The Time of My Life” came on the speakers. JJ looked towards Emily as the taller woman made way and backed up to provide room for the jump from Dirty Dancing.

Emily smirked and said, “Nobody puts Baby in a corner.” JJ grinned as she shook off her heels and Emily threw off her blazer, showing off her lean arm muscle. JJ speed walked over to Emily and as the iconic line went off, Emily caught JJ in her hands, like Patrick Swayze in the film. Several seconds later, Emily’s arms gave out and JJ toppled on top of her.

After escaping the dance floor, both the women nursed their injured heads on a leather loveseat. Shoes were off, splayed across the glass table in front of them. JJ huffed in annoyance after what happened on the dance floor.

“Nobody drops Baby on her head.” Emily crookedly smiled and whispered “sorry”. Both stayed silent as they were becoming inebriated, surrounding themselves with the noise and action. Forty-five minutes passed, and JJ got bored with sitting and moping in pain, rather than having fun on the last day of the year.

“Wanna head up to the roof? We could take a break from the noise.” Emily nodded in agreement.

They left the crowded atmosphere and climbed up to the top of the building. The chill winter breeze cooled down their flushed cheeks. The stars twinkled brighter against the pitch-black sky. The two women watched the glittering lights of Washington, DC. It was time for the countdown.

JJ ever so slightly turned her head towards Emily.

Out of the corner of her eye, Emily noticed that JJ was looking at her and turned her own head towards her date. There was a certain softness to those baby blue eyes.

“I’m glad I get to spend the last seconds of this year with you. You are incredible,” JJ said. Emily blushed a rosy pink, both from the cold and what JJ said.

“I could say the same about you.”

“I really do hope we get to see each other more in the new year.”

“Why is that?”

“Because…. Um.” JJ felt nervous telling Emily the reason. She worried that it would ruin what was happening at the moment.

“You know what. Fuck it.”

JJ grabbed Emily’s face and roughly placed a kiss on her chapped, pink lips.

A roar of cheers and a chorus of yelled “Happy New Year!” filled the air as the clock struck midnight. The whole city celebrated. JJ took a deep breath as she parted from Emily’s lips.

“Happy New Year, Emily.”

Emily looked at the gleaming girl in front of her and said, “Happy New Year, JJ.”

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kookiebunnii · 4 years

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what happens after || kim taehyung

→ summary: in another universe, do you think we could’ve ended up together? OR exploring how your memories with taehyung intertwine with your slow recovery from a life without him.

→ pairing: idol!taehyung x reader

→ genre: exes!au, post-breakup angst

→ word count: 4.4k

→ warnings: n/a

→ a/n: i always wanted to write something exploring the feelings of separation after a relationship. there’s a lot of works out there detailing the process of falling in love, but i think there’s something redeemable in the process of recovering from love as well.

●●●●●

The morning after might be the hardest part.

After a night of tossing and turning, drifting aimlessly between sleep and consciousness, the sun rises like it always does. When the dawn breaks, you open your eyes slowly, hoping that when you open them—Taehyung would be there.

But of course, he isn’t.

Because if he were, you’d already be in his arms. Taehyung loved to hold you while he slept, as if it comforted him knowing that he had you within his grasp. You never minded it, because the warmth he exuded was critical for lulling you into your dreams with ease. He smelled nice, like soft detergent on freshly washed sheets mixed with something so uniquely him. You would languidly lay in bed, curled into his chest, resting happy knowing that he’d still have you when you wake the next day.

When you broke up with him the night before though, this unrealistic expectation somehow still remained. It persistently presses against your heart, trying to win out against reality, until you were forced to longer believe in it. Gazing forlornly at the empty pillow next to you, missing the person who used to always sleep on the right side of the bed, your heart breaks all over again.

If you close your eyes tight enough, grip the blankets hard enough, you could almost feel his arms around you again. You could see Tae, dark locks messy with sleep, grumbling in annoyance as you try to poke him awake. He always mumbles ‘five more minutes’ before pulling you closer and burying his face in your neck. You’d always let him have his five minutes; in fact, you grew accustomed to setting your alarm a few minutes earlier just to ensure the two of you would still be on time. You wonder if he knew this.

Laying there in a bed that suddenly feels too big, you have no choice but to accept the fact that this was only the first day in the rest of your days without Taehyung. If you could push past the pain you felt today, things would get better. They had to, because how else were you supposed to survive a break-up?

But the loneliness and the hurt have made their residence within your chest, and you feel too weak to face the day. You can barely get yourself out of bed, so you decide to call into work sick that day. You were a star employee, so they surely would offer you a day off if you really needed it.

You spend the rest of the day staring at that empty pillow.

●●●●●

Prior to meeting Taehyung, you’d never dated a celebrity or anyone with as much popularity as he had. Given how big he and his group were, you should expect his face plastered everywhere you went in advertisements and other endorsements.

It was overwhelming, to say the least.

On your way to work you’d always listen to music, something upbeat and catchy to pull your attention away from the fact that he was everywhere. You wonder when they’ll remove the BTS advertisement for Chilsung Cider from the interior of this subway train. It’s been here for the past few days—surely they’ll have newer product placement coming soon. Despite the cheery beat of the current song playing from your earbuds, you can’t help but notice the small smile on Tae’s face. It’s the one he uses for professional things, the kind that makes his eyes glitter just enough to seem real. But you knew with aching familiarity how to easily get that boxy smile of his, his laughter contagious when you managed to crack him up beyond just a few chuckles.

Smiling sadly, your eyes lower down to the thin watch on your wrist. You’ll be on time for work as you typically are, so you should quickly get your act together. You were a radio show host, which meant that you had to make your voice engaging for those morning commute listeners. Being a professional meant separating work matters from personal ones, and it would be easy to tell if you were depressed about something.

God, what if your co-workers ask you what’s wrong? What if they find out that you’re no longer with Taehyung and just give you pity looks for the next month? You’d probably go insane.

Pressing your lips together instead of biting them for fear of ruining the gloss smeared over them, you briskly walk towards the radio building before dispelling those thoughts out of your head. You could be professional. Just for a few hours, you could keep it together.

Even when you dash past the photo on the wall, an old picture of you and your co-host holding up fingers hearts to the camera alongside world superstars BTS, you gather the pieces of your heart and hold them together.

●●●●●

Wow, did mint chocolate ice cream always taste this heavenly?

Burying your spoon into the icy dessert with renewed vigor, you pull the fluffy blanket over your belly as you commence your feasting. You haven’t had this flavor in a while given that Taehyung didn’t seem to appreciate it all that much, so you were grateful to be able to indulge in it once again. It wasn’t like it was your favorite flavor of all time, but you appreciated the crisp notes dotted with hints of creamy chocolate. You’d take toothpaste-flavored food any day of the week if it tasted this yummy.

You stop shoveling ice cream into your mouth when you remember the ice cream dates Tae used to sneak out of work to bring you on. He loved this one ice cream parlor down the street, always getting the same flavor no matter what. You liked to venture out of your comfort zone a little more, and given how often he took you there, you were close to trying almost all their staple flavors—not counting the seasonal ones. He’d always sneak a kiss from you afterwards, just to claim that he was able to sample all the flavors too. It always made you laugh, but you appreciated his small displays of affection. Especially towards the end, when the two of you began meeting a lot less frequently.

You place the sweet dessert back into the freezer, sighing and running a shaky hand through your bird’s nest of hair. It felt terrible to still reminisce about something that would never be, but you recently chose to forgive yourself when these flashbacks happened. Taehyung was one of those loves you would never forget because of how impactful his presence had been. So maybe if it took you a few weeks or even a few months to finally get over him, it’s acceptable. You knew without a doubt that you truly loved him. But of course, that did not lessen your obligations in relation to finally splitting away from depending on him.

Outside, the sky is glowing with brightness despite being seven in the evening. You lived in the city, meaning that the streets would be alive well into the early morning hours. It was loud and oppressive in the beginning, but you grew accustomed to it shortly after moving here for work. You wonder if you would even be able to fall asleep now without the hum of traffic underlying your dreams.

Maybe getting some fresh air, being around lively human interactions, and just living a little would help you move on. At this point you were ready to try anything. After all, it couldn’t hurt. You weren’t in the mood to cook today anyways.

You decide to dress a bit better than usual, if only for your own self-confidence. Your hands automatically reach for your favorite blouse and your most comfortable jeans from the interior of your closet. A lot of articles you own were actually gifts from Taehyung, so you’re grateful that you still have a few things that you could keep without reminding you of him. You wonder when you would feel comfortable wearing those dresses and belts he purchased for you. He bought them to show off “his girl” but now that you weren’t, did you still have a right to wear them?

When you finally escape from your worries, the cool night air blowing the strands of your hair with a carefree hand, you breathe deeply and try to exhale any stress still entrenched in your body. Tonight was about forgetting. It was about starting over.

It’s Friday today, so the streets are littered with happy couples, arms tangled together and their faces alit with adoration and happiness. You wonder if you looked as lovesick as they did, before ultimately deciding that you probably had. Tae was rarely able to walk the popular streets with you during rush hours, and even then he always wore a black cap with a matching face mask. The two of you grew used to ducking into alleyways whenever he spotted a large group of people heading towards the two of you. You remember feeling the hard brick wall pressing against your back as you waited out the crowds, glancing over at him periodically to smile mischievously at him. Maybe it was the thrill of almost being caught, or maybe he just liked your playful side, but he would usually choose to pull down his face mask just to kiss you when the two of you were hiding. These kisses were different than the post-ice cream date pecks. He’d always linger for a second or two, giving your bottom lip a greedy nip or ghosting the tip of his tongue across yours. No matter how many times he did this, your stomach always did flips in response.

The restaurant you picked is packed today, so you decide not to dine in. It would be rather weird to eat by yourself, especially amidst such a high-energy venue. Thankfully, your simple sandwich is completed rather quickly. You thank the waitress working the front desk before gripping your paper bag, heady with warmth, and head to the closest park.

One of the first places you discovered when you moved here was this community park. It is surrounded by large buildings, but that only added to the appeal of a small oasis surrounded by the mess of city life. You often came here after work, if only to stroll around the well-worn paths and think through how your day went. In the beginning, it had been difficult for you to adjust. Especially in the entertainment business, the higher-ups always demanded more of you. They wanted humor and fun, for you to pull fresh news out of the idols which fans craved. You had to be peppy, excited, and well-versed in the background of whoever you were interviewing. It was tough, but now you knew you had built up quite the reputation for yourself. You enjoyed meeting a variety of artists, most of whom quickly signed up for a repeat interview with you after the first round. You received the recognition and praise you craved, and you knew that you could only soar higher from here.

There are a few people walking their dogs tonight. You give each passing pet a smile when they look up at you with their round eyes and lolling tongues. Having a soft spot for animals, seeing them always made your heart feel lighter even if it was just a glance. Finding a bench is easy for you, especially since most people opted to stroll around this evening. The first bite is always the best, and it rings true tonight without fail. You chew slowly, enjoying the savory celebration over your palate before you slip back into your thoughts again.

You wonder what Taehyung is doing right now. His schedule must be busy, given that he was preparing for his comeback soon. You knew it was right of you to break up with him early enough that he would still have sufficient time to practice, since his work would always be his priority. It would be careless of you to end things with him close to his performances. You loved him enough to think things carefully on his behalf.

You remember how much you cried a few weeks ago, when you couldn’t even leave your bed to make it to work. Every time you blinked, he appeared behind your eyelids. It hurt so much that you never thought you could heal. You hated yourself, hated the universe for tearing the two of you apart. Whatever semblance of perfect love you found was replaced with the growing pain of your careers. You were climbing in the ranks, your days booked with more and more artists hoping to use your show to rise in popularity. BTS was traveling the world, performing for the masses and wooing fans with their genuine personalities in video interviews. As the two of you climbed higher, you also drifted further apart. You were beginning to feel the emptiness of being able to count how many times you had seen your ex every month on one hand.

The sandwich is quickly consumed, so you toss the empty bag into the trash can next to you and let out a sigh. Even though you wanted to not think about Taehyung tonight, it was difficult. Everything reminded you of him. Every time your mind wandered, it somehow ran after whatever remnants of him you still had. However, it was starting to hurt less and less. Instead of having your eyes brim with tears every time you thought about the way he used to look at you, you began to treat it as a silent acknowledgement of the past. You were satisfied with this development, but simultaneously fearful. What would it mean when you could finally think about Taehyung and feel nothing? Would that somehow invalidate everything he once was to you?

Your blouse isn’t doing much to protect you from the chilly night air, so you decide to take another lap through the park before retiring for the night. It’s difficult to see the stars, given the pollution and bright lights, but you like to imagine that they are there—shining down on you. They guide you back to your apartment, never leaving your side even when you shut the door behind you with finality.

●●●●●

Months have passed, and you are busier than ever before. Your coworkers have also began inviting you for dinners and other events more often. At first you were hesitant, not the social butterfly that most people expected radio hosts to be, but you quickly adapted. Everyone was friendly towards you for the most part, and the chatter helped ease and distract whatever sadness your heart was holding on to.

Christmas was around the corner, and you knew without a doubt that the entertainment world would be hosting a multitude of parties for the season. You were willing to join the tight-knit ones where only a handful of people were gathering for some red wine and conversation, but when your coworker invited you to a large rooftop celebration with some celebrities, you couldn’t help but hesitate.

“It’ll be fun! I’ll stick by your side all night if you’re that worried,” you coworker had chirped, a newbie at your company but who remained sociable and energetic nevertheless.

You had laughed nervously, waving her worries away and agreeing to attend. That had got her to finally leave you be, as you fiddled with the lid of your coffee cup and wondered what excuse to give when the date came around. Unfortunately, when December 24th finally did roll around, you simply stared at the calendar hanging from your wall and acquiesced.

Your closet is different now, as most of the items Taehyung purchased for you are now stowed away in a box in the corner. The newbie at the company, her name was Luce or something, had told you that people would probably be dressing nicely for the event. She then spent the rest of your lunch break yapping about some dress she had ordered online while you tuned out to play with the hem of your pencil skirt in nervousness.

Looking at your options, you finally settle on a scarlet dress that you hadn’t worn for a while. It was one of your first pricy purchases after your first paycheck, as a gift to yourself, and you were thankful to find that it still fit you perfectly. It was nothing scandalous, but definitely very different from what you were used to wearing. Pairing it with your beige trench coat, you check your makeup once more in the mirror before heading into the night.

The taxi drops you off at the location with little trouble. The sounds of the party are quick to descend on your ears, so you hand your coat to the coat check quickly before heading upwards to find someone you knew—just to stick around for the party so you wouldn’t feel isolated.

String lights have been strung elegantly across the sky, and you realize that it truly is a wondrous sight. Heat lamps are placed strategically across the floor, and a number of attendees are already sipping champagne and giggling with each other. Almost immediately, you see the coworker you thought of earlier, bounding over to you like an overeager kid and beaming with enthusiasm.

“You actually came!” she smiled, eyes wide as if you were merely an illusion.

“A promise is a promise,” you reply, accepting the flute of champagne Luce snatches from a nearby table to hand to you.

“Do you want to meet some people with me? I think quite a few of the celebs here know you already.”

You take a sip of the drink, appreciating the bubbles across your tongue and the slight flame that blazes in your chest when you swallow. You nod, deciding that socializing was only customary.

Your coworker is right to note that you actually recognize a lot of people in attendance tonight. The awkward feeling you had quickly faded away as you caught up with familiar faces and new ones alike. Everyone seemed to be in high spirits, happy to take a break to visit their friends and family for the holiday season. Their respective companies all allow vacations during this winter season, so their happiness is well-warranted.

It is only on your third glass of champagne, a red color brushed high on your cheekbones, when you take notice of his figure flitting in and out of your view. Taehyung is dressed in a beautiful midnight blue suit, the color flirting between blue and black. His hair is dyed a bright blue, likely due to promotions for his recent album. You can’t pull your eyes away from his tall figure and the way his lips pull in a polite smile at every person who greets him. He looks exactly the same, but then again, would a few months really change a person?

Suddenly, everything is too much and whatever progress you’ve made in the past few months flies out the window. You want to run out the door and back into the safety of your apartment across the city. That sensation only heightens when his dark eyes meet yours, and your stomach drops in fear and trepidation.

The thing about Taehyung is that he’s never shy with you. Even after months of being separated, he still holds your gaze in his own without fail. The two of you used to have staring contests, ones you would always lose, and this moment also feels akin to that. You choose to accept defeat the moment you apologize to your acquaintance and set your glass on the table. Heading straight for the stairs, reminding yourself to grab your stuff from the coat check on your way out, a part of you wonders if he will follow you. It’s fruitless, because what could he even say? You would only shake him off and apologize before running away again. He knows better than to chase after the girl who got away.

When you’re finally miles away, dress discarded on the floor, lying in the center of your cold bedsheets and staring at the ceiling—you realize that you still haven’t moved on.

●●●●●

The beginning of 2020 is nothing if not full of surprises. For one, you quit your job. If anyone were to tell you that you would leave your well-paying occupation one day to pursue a career as a painter, you would probably laugh in their face before recommending one of your psychiatrist friends. However, that joke was your current reality. Unable to take the stress of keeping up with every new act knocking on your door for an interview combined with the way the male high-ups expected you to laugh at the right times and talk pretty during interviews, you handed in your resignation at the end of January.

Perhaps the dumbfounded looks on their faces were worth the loss.

The next day, you book the earliest flight for Paris. You want some inspiration for your art, and what better inspiration could you derive than from a city with a rich history and a penchant for beauty? You had always been into the arts, so this transition came easily. Taehyung used to tell you that you were gifted, but you never took heed of his words. After all, his compliments were freely given to you when he was in a good mood. In reality, the most he ever saw of your skills were the doodles you’d scribble on his hand when he was unconscious from a nap on your couch.

These days, you rarely thought of him. It was reassuring for your heart, knowing that you were slowly accepting a tomorrow without him. The process wasn’t without its pain, but you were thankful at your resilience. You knew that he was doing just fine, as your mutual friends kept you updated whenever they felt like sharing.

Paris at night is a rare type of beautiful. Staring up at the Eiffel Tower, you admire its curves and lines as people glide past you without paying you any heed. You probably stare at the structure for a good 10 minutes without moving, your eyes appreciating the classy nature of its architecture before you decide to head back to your hotel. You wanted to sketch this monument while its shapes were still imprinted on your thoughts.

Turning around to see Taehyung staring at you, the fear you had felt at the Christmas party doesn’t rise up to coil around your throat. It surprises you, even though you had already admitted to moving on considerably. He is still unfairly handsome, his hair back to the natural deep chestnut you were familiar with. When he steps forward, caution enunciated in that single step, you give him a smile to reassure him.

“Long time no see,” you breathe, tucking your hands into your windbreaker.

“Yeah,” his deep voice resonates in that single word of affirmation.

“Would you like to grab a croissant with me?” you offer, unsure how to proceed but deciding to be polite regardless of how uncomfortable everything seemed.

He nods, his tall form quickly falling in step with your own. Taehyung doesn’t say much throughout the entire journey to your favorite bakery, keeping his eyes on the sidewalk underneath your feet.

Sitting outside the store, a warm baked good in your fingers, the silence is considerably more bearable. Eating with satisfied bites, you watch the passerby glide past with radiant smiles and laughter, joking around in French. When you finally brush the crumbs off your lap to glance at Taehyung, he is watching the same crowd as you were. He seems to feel your eyes on him, because he meets your gaze. When you look into his eyes, no more than a few feet separating the two of you, you realize the lack of hurt that typically panged with every mention of him last year.

The realization empowers you, ballooning your heart in your chest. It is not happiness you feel, but something akin to a peaceful acceptance.

“In another universe, do you think we could’ve ended up together?”

His question echoes in the recesses of your mind, and your fingers unconsciously tighten on the thighs of your leggings. This same thought had plagued your dreams early in your break up, as you prayed and wished that if things were different, if your careers didn’t demand so much from the two of you, that maybe there would be a happily ever after and an “us” to hold onto. But this universe, these conditions, were reality. You couldn’t ask him to sacrifice his love for singing, his appreciation of his growing fanbase, his dream—for you. He couldn’t request the same of you either.

“Maybe. Namjoon used to talk a lot about that,” you chuckle before continuing, “Multiverse theory or something like that.”

Taehyung nodes, a small smile appearing across his face when you mention his hyung.

“If he’s right about that, then I suppose so. In another world where you are nothing more than a normal boy and I am nothing more than a normal girl, I’d like to think we could’ve made it work,” you whisper, and when the words leave your lips without shaking, you are proud of yourself.

“I can be happy with that,” he says.

He walks you back to your hotel room, keeping to his thoughts as he does. You don’t mind, knowing that Tae often retreated into his thoughts when he was considering a topic deeply. You momentarily consider asking him why he was in Paris but decide against it. If he was ready for aimless conversations, he would start.

When you reach the hotel interior, a large chandelier illuminating the white marble tiles underneath your feet, he finally pauses to give you his final goodbye. He looks like he wants to say something more, maybe to ask to meet again or something of that nature. Instead he swallows and exhales, “We don’t need another universe to continue being there for each other.”

“No, we don’t,” you agree.

He turns around, bidding you another a small goodbye when his eyes briefly flit to your face. You offer him a small wave in response, watching his broad back retreating out the room and the sliding glass doors. Heading straight for the elevator doors as soon as his silhouette disappears from view, your shoulders relax instantly in the safety of the enclosed compartment.

Perhaps this universe still had a lot left to offer.

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amphtaminedreams · 4 years

Text

The Women of Euphoria and Personal Style: Lookbook no.8

Hi to anyone reading,

I hope you’re well considering everything going on! It feels weird to want to talk about fashion or TV shows or red carpets or whatever when 90% of my Google searches are COVID-19 related but there you go. It’s all about trying to power through as normal (minus the social interaction) and pretend the world isn’t ending, right? Queue nervous laughter.

And as if things aren't shitty enough, production of season 2 of Euphoria has been postponed until further notice.

Okay, in the grand scheme of things, having to wait a bit longer for a TV show isn’t catastrophic but it does just about sum up the transition from 2019 to 2020 thus far that after HBO redeemed itself by broadcasting Euphoria in the summer following an ending to Game of Thrones that has made the whole series unrewatchable, the glimmer of hope in me reignited by the prospect of series 2 this year has been quickly dashed. 2021, I’m rooting for you, because it doesn’t seem like things are getting better any time soon, and in all seriousness, I think everyone needs a break from the collective suffering of the last few months.

For me (and undoubtedly for many others if the hundreds of makeup looks and styling videos are anything to go by), Euphoria’s effect on the world of fashion and beauty is unprecedented. I really can’t recall a TV show in living memory that has had as much of an impact on the way young people dress. I mean, this might partially be because the style of the characters already kind of caters to and draws from the target audience but also, aside from Blair Waldorf did anybody really give THAT much of a fuck about what anybody in Gossip Girl wore?

The draw of the styling on Euphoria is that it has something for everyone. The style of each of the main girls, Rue, Kat, Maddy, Jules and Cassie, all of whom I’ve attempted (emphasis on attempted!) to base (emphasis on base!) outfits around, is varied and distinctive but still so current and realistic at the same time. It’s also consistent; even if you don’t own the specific pieces worn by any of them, similar shapes and details reoccur enough in different looks throughout the series that it’s not hard to create an outfit which matches your favourite character’s overall vibe without buying anything new. That’s kinda what I have attempted to do here and without further ado, I’m gonna get on with it! First up:

Jules (Played by Hunter Schafer)

When it comes to whose style is the most experimental, Jules is the obvious answer. A lot of her outfits are what I imagine a cartoonist in the near-distant future will envision their cool girl protagonist wearing. Whilst her ensembles are generally whimsical and girly for the most part, there’s usually a few slightly punk-ish finishing touches thrown in there too be it through chunky shoes or bold makeup or that incredible mesh trench coat she wears in the series finale with the trans symbol on the back which, honestly, deserves a moment of silence.

There are definitely nods to current fashion trends sprinkled throughout her wardrobe too. I'm not going to lie, despite someone at work seemingly thinking it was an insult to tell me I look like someone who does (I still don’t know but this person has a Rick and Morty keyring so I don’t give it too much weight), I’ve never watched any anime. BUT, that being said, given the abundance of anime screenshots posted by all these aesthetic oriented Instagram and Tumblr moodboard accounts, I have a vague idea of what some of the more iconic characters look like and a lot of Jules’ looks seem to be very much modelled after or at least inspired by them. In a way, I see a lot of her looks as a blend between modern “e-girl”, Y2K skater chick (yes, I’m thinking early Avril Lavigne), and 2013 Tumblr “hipster” a la 2014 Joanna Kutcha and Charlie Barker, and though on paper that sounds like a nightmare combination, it works. I know-if that sentence were a Depop description I would’ve just gained 30 followers.

When it comes to my own interpretation of Jules’ style, it’s definitely something I like to channel when I’m putting together a proper OUTFIT outfit. Meaning an outfit I actually put effort into and thus will most likely want to get a good photo in, lol. The way her character dresses is almost quite Christopher Kane in that it’s fresh and unusual but still understated enough that I wouldn’t walk into a room wearing any of these feeling like I’m doing a Rick Owens runway.

I’m not TOO far out of my comfort zone but still at the same time, I’d be trying something new and maybe a little bit more zany than I'm used to. As for noting where any of these pieces are from, only a few have been bought in the last 6 months, but from left to right clockwise I have marked out those that have in case they’re still available (though be wary of the fact that it seems a lot of online clothes stores are still forcing warehouse employees to work in close confines at the moment and so perhaps aren’t operating the most ethically):

LOOK 1

Corset-Jaded London

Shoes-TK Maxx

LOOK 2

Dress-Motel Rocks

Boots-Koi Vegan Footwear

LOOK 3

Dress-Jaded London

LOOK 4

Dress-Jaded London

Beret-Ebay

LOOK 5

Beret-Ebay

LOOK 6

Mesh Top-Depop

Hair Clips-Urban Outfitters

Kat (Played by Barbie Ferreira)

Eurgh, Kat.

I LOVE THIS BITCH.

If I had to choose my favourite character in the show, it would be a very close toss-up between her and Rue, and though I think Rue might just about nab the top spot for her relatability factor, Kat is the girl I want to be or wish that I had been when I was at school. I mean, there’s definitely an argument to be made in that a lot of what she’s doing with her cam work could be seen as a means of validation (Sam Levinson has basically said everyone on the show has some kind of an unhealthy coping mechanism and I would guess due to the circumstances in which her cam girl career was borne and the fact she’s underage, this would be hers) but I do think in other ways we really see Kat reclaim her power and recognise herself for the smart, capable, gorgeous woman that she is. Honestly, the definition of divine feminine energy, and I would completely let Barbie Ferreira/basically Kat if she was also actually 23 dominate me.

Plus! Her! Style! Is! The! Bomb! Definitely the easiest character to base looks around because if I’m totally honest Kat’s energy is pretty much just what I want to emulate in every day life.

It’s either pieces that are typically feminine, cutesy, and even slightly preppy at times drenched in everything grunge OR vice versa where you have something semi-gothic and then add a colourful, more playful touch in there that harks back to the beginning of the series before Kat had began to explore her identity and sexuality and dressed slightly more Forever 21.

I’d say, not yet with my whole chest, that on a good day the outfits I put together when making an effort aren’t too far off something Kat would wear, minus the more overtly BDSM touches; if wearing a ring choker in London is enough to get me a creepy comment from a gross middle aged shopkeeper (because I apparently forfeited my right not to be perved on when I decided to buy a bottle of Oasis summer fruits), then you can only imagine the kind of looks wearing a full-on harness would get in my conservative OAP dominated hometown. Not the most doable right now, especially considering the only time I get out is to work and to go for a run. The chafing I could deal with but the horrified glares of pensioners whose M&S prawn mayo sandwiches I’ve ruined by simply being in their eyesight not so much.

LOOK 1-

Corset-Urban Outfitters

LOOK 2-

Bodysuit-Depop

Skirt-Zara

Harness-Ebay

LOOK 3-

Co-ord-Depop

Lace-up Corset-Missguided

LOOK 4-

Dress-Vintage

LOOK 5-

Belt-Ebay

LOOK 6-

Coat-Topshop

Dress-Jaded London

LOOK 7-

Fishnet Top-Ebay

Skirt-Urban Outfitters

Maddy (Played by Alexa Demie)

Not gonna lie, I was kind of scared to do Maddy. I’m scared to be posting this, lol! Alexa Demie has played this character for a single season and she’s already one of the most iconic women to grace our screens in years. This is a huge undertaking and I don’t have the bank balance or the body confidence (lmao) to raid IAmGia.

And this is where I want to stress: THESE ARE NOT OUTFIT RECREATIONS. THESE ARE INSPIRED BY. I HAVE ADDED ELEMENTS OF MY OWN STYLE INTO THEM. PLEASE DON’T DRAG ME. I KNOW, I’M NOT ALEXA DEMIE. I WOULD NEVER ASSUME TO BE ALEXA DEMIE. I’M NOT ABOUT TO TAKE THE LORD’S NAME IN VAIN LIKE THAT. So now we’ve got that out the way (wipes bead of sweat off forehead), let’s continue.

Everything about Maddy Perez is extra. She has very much been established as a centre of attention character, and her outfits are a key part of that. They’re daring, they’re hyper-feminine, and they are always glamorous. We’re told that she competed in beauty pageants when she was younger and it’s clear that level of excess and coordination and glitz and all-round-boujeeness wormed its way into her DNA during that time. Even the “depression” outfit she wears to school following Nate becoming violent at the fair is costume-like, a 2019 Bratz doll Off-White street style collaboration.

Do you know how HARD I had to try to be HOT!? For these photos. Alexa Demie is one of those blessed women who doesn’t have to try at all, and that translates into the character completely. At any given moment, Maddy could add or remove one item or clothing and be let straight into the VIP section of a club, and that, honestly, is inspiring to us all in these dark times.

One thing I tried to keep in mind is that she always looks polished and coordinated, I.E the kind of look I would prepare for a night out is something Maddy would wear on an average day. Co-ords and delicate prints seem to be more subtle wardrobe staples along with mesh and PVC and glitter and feathers and fur and basically anything that toes the line between expensive looking and tacky. Yes, I am aware we may toe different sides of that line but please let me stay delusional and believe that’s not the case for 5 minutes. Much appreciated xoxo

LOOK 1-

Bodysuit-Jaded London

LOOK 2-

Bralette-Depop

LOOK 3-

Co-ord Suit-Boohoo

Bodysuit-Boohoo

LOOK 4-

Dress-Motel Rocks

Shoes-Schuh

LOOK 5-

Bodysuit-Zaful

Trousers-Depop

Coat-Topshop

LOOK 6-

Dress-Zaful

Belt-Zaful

LOOK 7-

Top-Jaded London

Hair Clips-H&M

Rue (Played by Zendaya Coleman)

I have a complicated relationship with Rue as a character. When I started season 1 of Euphoria, I was like “Oh my god, this girl is the worst. Jesus, she’s so negative and draining and willingly self-destructive and-”

Then, oh my god is this what it’s like to live with me!?

I will say, to my own credit, that I don’t think I've ever been quite as hard to deal with as Rue (a lot less smashing stuff up and a lot more moping), and to HER credit, by the end of the season we come to realise she’s been through a fucking lot and so it makes sense, but wow. I don’t think I have ever seen a teen show handle drug abuse and mental illness in such a brutal way. It’s quite a talent to be able to show a character cause so much pain to those closest to them and yet do so through a sympathetic lens. And issues aside, whether it’s her occasional social awkwardness or her relationship with her family or watching bloody Love Island (still quite surreal to see Zendaya Coleman witnessing the Amy/Curtis drama unfold), Rue is just my favourite character to follow.

Her style, though. AH. The thing is, I can hardly drag it, because it’s pretty much what I wear when I’m moping about the house-or just any time I can get away with it to be honest-to a T. I want to stay true to character, but that being said, creating a “Seth Rogen”-esque outfit that’s worth posting on here is difficult. So, with the same kind of artistic license that had me wearing berets whilst cosplaying Maddy Perez, here is the best I could do:

I know, I know, it’s probably too much colour and jewellery for Rue but this is as toned down as I could do and I tried to stick with the key silhouettes we see from her throughout the season; I mean, I can’t see her wearing leopard print but the structure of the coat in outfit 1 is very similar to the one seen in Shook Ones pt.II. I think the bottom line when it comes to her character is keeping things effortless and not overly-feminine; you want to mix street style, athleisure and your dad’s wardrobe favourites like your life depends on it. Plus messy hair and smudged makeup, both of which I’ve already got down according to the completely inappropriate number of customers who’ve asked if I'm tired at work so thanks for that guys, and glitter tears. Lots and lots of glitter tears.

OUTFIT 1-

Dungarees-Vintage

OUTFIT 2-

Trousers-Depop

Cardigan-Urban Outfitters

OUTFIT 5-

Beanie-Depop

OUTFIT 6-

Shirt-Boohoo Man

Sports Bra-TK Maxx

Trousers-Urban Outfitters

OUTFIT 7-

Shirt-Jaded London

Cassie (Played by Sydney Sweeney)

Style-wise, Cassie is a hard one. When putting outfits for her character together, I found myself gravitating towards a direction that’s probably a bit too bohemian for her character, under the guidance of loose terms like “girl-next-door”, “floaty”, “delicate”, you get the idea. She definitely feels the least fully-realised in terms of all the main girls and I think it’s fair to say she’s probably got a bit of self-discovery to do. Most of her storylines in the season are dictated by her relationships to other people: McKay, Maddy, Lexie, her parents and so on.

Nevertheless, I tried to stick to the airier, more traditionally “pretty” pieces whilst still channelling the confidence and ease with which Cassie pulls them off. Sydney Sweeney has the most incredible figure and I feel like whilst the clothes the on-set stylists put her in flatter that and don’t hide anything, they’re still the focus. It doesn’t feel like there’s anything more inherently sexual about her character than any of the other main female characters despite the way the men within the narrative view her, and I think it’s a testament to the the wardrobe department that to me she still gives off big modern Disney princess energy and a certain innocence even whilst we hear her being continuously sexualised by her male peers.

If anything, Cassie probably dresses the most like an actual teenage girl, and her style, whilst less distinctive than the other girls, still does a good job of capturing the youth and romanticism of her character.

The colour palette of her wardrobe tends to be quite neutral, with a couple of pastels thrown in there, and if there are any details, they’re usually quite dainty. Similarly, Cassie is probably the least experimental when it comes to her makeup; we don’t really see her wearing the bold eyeshadows or liners or gems like the other girls at any point.

OUTFIT 1-

Bodysuit-Motel Rocks

Hair Clips-Bershka

OUTFIT 2-

Dress-Jaded London

OUTFIT 3-

Trousers-Urban Outfitters

OUTFIT 4-

Top-Urban Outfitters

Hairband-H&M

`OUTFIT 5-

Top-Urban Outfitters

Jeans-Zaful

Headband-Primark

OUTFIT 6-

Top-Urban Outfitters

OUTFIT 7-

Dress-Urban Outfitters

Hair Clips-Boohoo

SO, I guess that’s it for my Euphoria lookbook! As always, let me know what you think (nicely pls, my ego is fragile lol) and I’d love to hear your opinions on the show too! I really haven’t got this excited over a new TV show in ages and I just think that it does everything so excellently-from the writing to the cinematography to the soundtrack, you can tell each element is so carefully and purposefully constructed. It immerses you into the dramatic highs and lows of being a teenager in a way I haven’t seen since UK Skins and I never thought I’d watch a show which held a candle to that.

In terms of what I’m doing next, I’ve got a very delayed fashion week masterpost in the works as well as something to fill the Met Gala shaped hole in our lives, which I hope to get up over the next couple of weeks. In the meantime, if you read to the end, THANK YOU! And I hope you’re staying safe and AT HOME where possible. I know this self-isolation feels never-ending and if I’m honest, it is having a hugely negative effect on my mental health, but NHS staff are doing their very best with the shitty recourses they have and whilst it seems that our government have thrown workers under the bus once again, we can all do our bit to combat that by slowing the spread of the virus. Also thank you to anybody who’s out working now in such a scary and uncertain time! I work at a grocery store and can say from experience that the best way to show this thanks is just through kindness and following employee’s instructions without giving them grief for it. Everyone’s scared right now and the best we can do is pull together and look out for each other, as difficult as that might seem at times.

Anyway, sorry for the ramble, and like I said, stay safe! Thanks once again if you read til the end or even if you’re just here for the photos. Appreciate it more than you know either way!

Lauren x

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livebloggingmydescentintomadness · 4 years

Note

I just wanna thank you for all the positive spn/destiel content on my dash rn. like I'm enjoying the memes as much as the next person but so much of what people are saying is hateful and it's nice to see a big blog like yours posting all this nice stuff. I got into spn in 2015 when I was missing my final year at school because of a chronic illness and was super depressed at the time, so binging the 10 seasons that were out at the time became immensely comforting to me and was a welcome distraction from how my life was going. I know the show is far from perfect, but it really means a lot to me, and it's nice to see how much it means to you as well

i feel you so much, sweetie!! i’ve been chronically ill for more than a decade now, stuck in bed most of the time, and spn has meant so much to me in the past 8 years that i’ve been in the fandom.

i’ve felt a lot of unhappiness and pain and stress because of the show too, with the queerbaiting and certain things like killing charlie, but i’ve never lost that core of loving this dumb, wonderful show and these dumb, wonderful characters. i don’t think i ever will.

so while i fully understand everyone’s negative emotions, i want to take my happiness where i can get it, and i just don’t want to assume the worst when there’s an actual ray of hope that maybe everything will be okay. right now, i just want to be happy, and i’m really glad that you guys are here being happy with me.

take care of yourself, dear.

#spn #anonymous #ask

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suspectedalways · 4 years

Text

okay guys, so here’s a little update! i am not feeling my best right now. seasonal depression has collided with my usual depression therefore i am in a constant state of exhaustion and some days are just... hard. with my putting all the energy i have into my kids and work, some days the most i can do is just ... stare at the dash. i want to write, but i just .... can’t.

i got this new promotion [ sort of ] at work which means my hours may be a bit longer and there’s more on my plate.

my mom was put into the psychiatric ward over the weekend because not only is her early onset dementia and Alzheimer's more prevalent, but she’s become paranoid and is experiencing a schizophrenic break. the cops had to be called to escort her out of her own home because she is now deemed a threat to not only herself but other people. though i am the youngest of the kids i am the one that is her medical beneficiary, therefore all decisions and medical calls must be approved by me. so on top of my depression i am stressed and worried about my mother and what’s to come of this.

i did speak with her a bit yesterday and she is calmed down and not angry, but her mind is still in a rough spot. their initial 72 hour hold may be extended so they can see what escalates her paranoia. a lot of decisions are being made and talked about here.

i’m just ... i’m sorry. i want to be here but it’s hard some days. i’m not going on hiatus because i know i’ll be back. just depends on the day. right now writing on discord is easier because i can do it on mobile. i appreciate and adore all of you. things will settle down soon and i will be back.

#↯ ooc ; just gobs.#↯ psa ; attention please!

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woodentranscripts · 4 years

Text

Season 1 Episode 1 The Bane of Rudyard

It's the worst day of Rudyard's life when new competitor Eric Chapman arrives on Piffling and becomes an immediate sensation.

Written by David K. Barnes

EPISODE ONE: THE BANE OF RUDYARD

[narration from Madeleine]

Now, Hidden in the English Channel is an island called Piffling. On the island is a village - Piffling Vale - and the village has a square, and the square has this lovely little antique shop but opposite the antique shop is a funeral home which is where much of this chronicle will be set, I’m afraid. You see, I want to tell you all about a man named Rudyard Funn. He owns the funeral parlour, he’s responsible for all the funerals in Piffling Vale and today, he experienced what was undoubtedly the worst day of his life. Which was probably long overdue.

[funky intro music]

REV: We gather here today to celebrate the life of Stanley Carmichael, who was taken from us only five days ago

He continues

[narration] It all began with a funeral, the antique dealer Stanley Carmichael, whose shop was immediately opposite Rudyard’s premises, had led a life of peace and ordered calm of eighty nine years… and had subsequently crushed to death by a granite sundial.

REV: I confess I never actually bought anything from him. His prices have been quite steep actually, though I did have my eye on that sundial. I might still be tempted if it came down in price, hint hint. (laughs)

[narration] Stanley’s relatives pricked up their ears at the prospect of getting something for that granite sundial. Whilst nearby, his eyes sunken, his skin pale and drawn: stood Rudyard, looking at his watch and wishing strongly that the reverend wasn't an agnostic.

REV: … and undoubtedly looking down at us from his place with God. Unless you don't believe in that sort of thing - which I won’t hold against you, mind you God probably will. Unless he doesn’t exist, in which case he won’t even have anything to complain about, really.

RUDYARD: (clears throat) Reverend.

REV: Sorry, did somebody say -

RUDYARD: Reverend. REV: Oh hello Rudyard- RUDYARD: You’re rambling. REV: Sorry? RUDYARD: You’re rambling again REV: Oh God, am I?

RUDYARD: Yes! REV: I’m so sorry, where was I? RUDYARD: His spirit looking down at us from his place- REV: OH! From his place with God, yes, yes, thank you, right, right, I’ve err Looking down at us from his place with umm… no. No, actually, I don't suppose we could have a quick show of hands? RUDYARD: No! No! Now come on! REV: If you believe in God, could you put your hands up, can we all do that? Put your hands up if you believe, ughh right, right err bout half. Um so! Ah yeah. What I might do is do the service twice- RUDYARD: We don't have time!

REV: Once with God in it and the other without. RUDYARD: No! We’re overrunning. REV: Oh! But I thought I might read out a few psalms RUDYARD: Which ones? REV: I don’t mind, I'll be happy to take requests if anyone’s got any favourites? RUDYARD: Nononono. We’re sixteen minutes behind schedule, nearly seventeen. Georgie? (snaps finders) Wake up! GEORGIE: (groans) I don’t want to RUDYARD: We need the coffin in the ground. Now. GEORGIE: Sir, it’s a very heavy coffin RUDYARD: What’s your point? GEORGIE: I’m the only pallbearer RUDYARD: Oh stop moaning, put your back into it! GEORGIE: Ughh Fine! REV: Do we have time for some funny anecdotes? RUDYARD: We’re late as it is and it’s pissing it down - so no. PERSON 1: He’s ruining everything! RUDYARD: There you are reverend, you’re losing them REV: Oh! I thought they were rather getting into it! PERSON 2: Not him, you! RUDYARD: Me? PERSON 3: You horrid little man, stop hurrying things along!

RUDYARD: Don’t you know what a schedule is? PERSON 3: So rude! RUDYARD: This isn’t my only gig today, you know. I’ve got Mr Ascii to measure up in half an hour! PERSON 1: He’s not dead! RUDYARD: Well he doesn’t look healthy, though, does he? PERSON 3: Stop talking we’re trying to honour Stanley! RUDYARD: Honour Stanley! You didn’t even like him. PERSON 3: How dare you! RUDYARD: I noticed in the shop you slipped that carriage clock down your blouse when you thought no one was looking! (gasps) RUDYARD: And the dressing table! (even more gasps) PERSON 2: I knew it! PERSON 3: Shut up! Bill swiped the portrait of Ova Broughn PERSON 2: Bill! I wanted that portrait! PERSON 1: Well you can’t have it! (gasps) PERSON 1: I’m sorry Jerry, I just lost control, OW REV: Now come, come everyone. Stay calm… Jerry put that shovel down! RUDYARD: Alright, Georgie, get the body in the ground GEORGIE: Sir, They’re not very happy RUDYARD: Of course they don’t look happy, it’s a funeral. Off you go! (she grunts) [narration] The service completed, Rudyard Funn and Georgie Crusoe fled the cemetery and hurried back to the funeral home. Established by local character and serial bigamist Gilbert Funn in the fifteenth century, Funn Funerals have always maintained a solid reputation for being the only funeral home on the island. RUDYARD: (grunts) What it could be a good thing back there, you saw Stanley’s widow GEORGIE: That sad old lady RUDYARD: Yes, when she took a swing at her son in law I think she fell into the grave instead. I don’t know if it was fatal but it looked promising to me GEORGIE: Do you think we’d be able to have a quiet funeral RUDYARD: Asking for the impossible never helped anyone GEORGIE: People smiling, swapping happy memories, I’m not sure every funeral should end with violent conflict RUDYARD: Georgie, once you’ve been here a few more months you’ll realise all funerals always end in bloodshed, there's very little you or I can do about it. Now go and get the measuring kit I want to go to Mr Ascii’s and see if he’s dead yet! GEORGIE: Are you sure it’s worth the bother? RUDYARD: I’ve gone round everyday for the last six weeks, I’m not giving up now, Hop to it! GEORGIE: yes sir~ RUDYARD: Get me a dry jacket, and another hat! Where’s Antigone? Antigone! Now look here, yes. Stanley’s widow! Ha I knew it! No, nothing sorry. We can fit her in a six o clock, I’ll leave her in the ground for the moment, it’ll save time in the long run. No, she shouldn’t be brawling at her age. Of course I could fancy my chances against her, Im thirty-five, she was eighty-two see you at six. Georgie! We’ve got a full day ahead of us! Where’s Antigone? GEORGIE: Try the mortuary! RUDYARD: Are you in the mortuary? Antigone? Antigone? Are you in the mortuary? Antigone? Antigone are you in the- ANTIGONE: What?! RUDYARD: I’m back. ANTIGONE: I’d rather look at the corpses. RUDYARD: Oh for- ANTIGONE: Does rest in peace mean nothing to you?! RUDYARD: Well I don’t hear the guests complaining. Room for another? ANTIGONE: Is it Mr Ascii RUDYARD: Not yet, this ones a bonus! [narration] That’s Antigone, Rudyard’s twin sister, despite actually being born one week afterwards. The poor dear had been diagnosed with depression within twenty minutes of being born - a world record which gave her no consolation at all. ANTIGONE: So how was it today? RUDYARD: Err the vicar’s getting worse and of course it was raining and inevitably it ended with a punchup over a portrait of Eva Broughn. But personally I found it all very moving ANTIGONE: Brilliant, so that's another grieving widow we’re going to have to apologise to RUDYARD: No we won't. ANTIGONE: Why not?! RUDYARD: She fell into the grave and died before I left! ANTIGONE: She what?! RUDYARD: It’s been a very productive morning ANTIGONE: You really have no concept of what good business is, do you? RUDYARD: I’d love to disagree with you and Oh! I’m doing it right now ANTIGONE: I’ve been in the mortuary all morning and do you know what I’ve been up to! RUDYARD: Oh sure I don’t want to know ANTIGONE: I’ve spent the past five hours mixing formaldehyde and methanol with clementine and a tiny, tiny dash of cinnamon. That’s what I’ve been doing for five hours! RUDYARD: Should I ask why? ANTIGONE: To try to make our embalming fluid smell nicer! So the bodies will smell nicer! Because have you really ever smelt a body, Rudyard? RUDYARD: Why do we still talk to each other? ANTIGONE: Now! Thanks to me, they’ll smell brighter, fresher, not like bodies at all. That’s the sort of service I’m striving for, Rudyard. I want them to forget that the body is a body. RUDYARD: Yes that’ll work, our Grandad’s dead but don’t worry because he smells like christmas! ANTIGONE: It’s attention to detail Rudyard! It’s how we run a business, you would know! RUDYARD: We get the body in the coffin in the ground on time GEORGIE: Sir, your other jackets been eaten by moths - I saw the whole thing. RUDYARD: Not now, Georgie, how long did it take for the coffin to get to the ground this morning? GEORGIE: A couple of seconds? RUDYARD: Now that’s a good service! GEORGIE: Because I dropped it RUDYARD: But it got where it needed to be and that’s what they pay us for. ANTIGONE: Rudyard, for the very last time! They don't want chaos! They don’t want stress and they don’t want a relative dead before the first is even been buried! RUDYARD: How do you know what they want?! ANTIGONE: In the name of sanity, Rudyard - RUDYARD: I’ve got a very busy day ahead of , so just get back into the mortuary CHAPMAN: Hello! RUDYARD: Yes? CHAPMAN: Eric, Eric Chapman. I’m new, to the place! Just arrived! GEORGIE: Good morning RUDYARD: Georgie, leave it to the professionals. Good morning. We’ve not met. CHAPMAN: No, because I’m new, to the place RUDYARD: You don't have to brag about it! I have met people before CHAPMAN: You’re Mr Rudyard Funn, of Funn Funerals? RUDYARD: Correct CHAPMAN: Terrific name, suppose you put the fun in funerals RUDYARD: No, of course we don’t, that’s obscene CHAPMAN: Sure, never mind

ANTIGONE: Hello Mr Chapman CHAPMAN: OH! Jesus ANTIGONE: Is this too close? CHAPMAN: A little bit! ANTIGONE: Sorry! CHAPMAN: No, don’t mention it! ANTIGONE: Sorry, I’m Antigone, sorry pleased to meet you. CHAPMAN: Err, likewise call me Eric. Are you in charge? ANTIGONE: I’m the mortician, where the action is, CHAPMAN: I bet there’s not much you don’t know about the body, Antigone? ANTIGONE: That sounded like a double meaning GEORGIE: It’s called flirting ANTIGONE: Oh gosh, is it? CHAPMAN: Well, now ANTIGONE: It’s smashing, do it again, have I made it awkward? DAMN RUDYARD: I haven’t got all day! CHAPMAN: Yes so, Rudyard, Antigone and GEORGIE: Georgie, Hi ANTIGONE: That’s enough! CHAPMAN: I saw you at the funeral, didn’t I GEORGIE: Yeah, helping out, it’s a job RUDYARD: Georgie, don’t give away company secrets GEORGIE: I was only - ANTIGONE: Hang on, you were at the funeral this morning? CHAPMAN: Yes I was RUDYARD: And I’m sure you’re impressed with what you saw there Mr Chapman but we really are frightfully CHAPMAN: Actually I wasn’t entirely sure it came off RUDYARD: I’m sorry? CHAPMAN: For a start it got a little violent didn’t it? RUDYARD: Did you think so? CHAPMAN: At the end yes RUDYARD: I’m not sure what funeral you were watching, Mr Chapman but all I saw was good clean mourning CHAPMAN: Didn’t someone die? RUDYARD: A very convenient place for it to happen, Georgie GEORGIE: I’m not RUDYARD: There you go, don’t let us keep you Mr Chapman CHAPMAN: And I thought there could have been a greater attention to detail. Stop me if I’m getting too critical. RUDYARD: Okay I’ll stop you there ANTIGONE: Shut up, carry on Mr Chapman CHAPMAN: Eric ANTIGONE: Gosh CHAPMAN: I have to say it was a little bit grim, I mean it’s a funeral it’s hardly party time but even so these occasions should be a celebration of life rather than going on about death, do you know what I mean? RUDYARD: Nope CHAPMAN: Ah, I don’t want to be made more miserable and I want to remember those happy magnificent memories, I want a cheerful atmosphere, bright flowers, music, funny recolations ANTIGONE: Sweeter smelling fluids CHAPMAN: Exactly, fluids? ANTIGONE: I think they’re very important. CHAPMAN: Sure thing. That's what I mean! Sorting out those little details, pushing the boat out, or the hearse out, well that's just my two cents for what it’s worth RUDYARD: Well, I don’t know what planet you live on, Mr Chapman, but - ANTIGONE: Thank you! We’ll bear those things in mind, won’t we Rudyard. RUDYARD: remind me- ANTIGONE: Smashing! CHAPMAN: Anyway, I thought I’d swing by ANTIGONE: Oh any time! CHAPMAN: Thank you, ANTIGONE: Any time at all CHAPMAN: Yes, I was just swinging by to see the competition. RUDYARD: Competition? CHAPMAN: Yes. ANTIGONE: You mean like a raffle? CHAPMAN: Not exactly RUDYARD: I hate raffles CHAPMAN: That’s a strange thing to hate. I meant you lot! Er, Funn Funerals the local competition… In funerals RUDYARD: You’re an undertaker. CHAPMAN: Well clients prefer funeral director ANTIGONE: You’re just visiting though?! CHAPMAN: No, I live here now, I’m setting myself up ANTIGONE: Your own funeral home? CHAPMAN: yeah, Chapmans, not quite as catchy as Funn Funerals but there we are ANTIGONE: Where are you going to be? CHAPMAN: You know the antique dealer you just buried, Stanley Carmichael? I’m just taking over his premises. ANTIGONE: Just across the square! CHAPMAN: That’s right! Opposite you actually, we’ll probably see a lot of each other, compare notes, swap stories, down the pub - mine’s a light ale by the way. Err did someone die in here? RUDYARD: Goodbye Chapman. CHAPMAN: Oh sure! Glad to meet you Rudyard, Antigone ANTIGONE: Chapman. CHAPMAN: Georgie GEORGIE: See you later ANTIGONE: That’s enough! CAPMAN: Okay. (exhales) Enjoy yourselves! Ah! The sun’s come out! RUDYARD: If he thinks I’m going to buy him a light ale, he’s very much mistaken. ANTIGONE: Oh shut up Rudyard! This is actually very serious. GEORGIE: He seemed fine ANTIGONE: No he didn’t, Georgie, coming over here waving his credentials in our faces, giving us feedback, my god! GEORGIE: I thought you liked him? ANTIGONE: Liked him?! Liked him?! GEORGIE: Yeah! You were talking about fluids and everything! ANTIGONE: That’s professional chit-chat for god’s sake, do you think I like gorgeous handsome men, do you? Exactly, it’s disgusting, it’s disgusting RUDYARD: I can’t think of a scenario where I would buy someone a light ale ANTIGONE: Rudyard, focus! He is serious competition RUDYARD: Him? Competition? Were you listening to the man? GEORGIE: No she wasn’t, She was gazing into his eyes ANTIGONE: Georgina! Go and make some tea. GEORGIE: We haven’t got a kettle ANTIGONE: Buy one. GEORGIE: Fine ANTIGONE: Rudyard, we’re finished, I think I’ll take a cyanide capsule RUDYARD: We are not finished, we’re an established firm, going back centuries! Nobody round here is going to book a funeral with a complete stranger. ANTIGONE: Rudyard! Look At His Shop! RUDYARD: What is it? ANTIGONE: He’s already changed the sign! ‘Chapman’s’ Just like he said. RUDYARD: I’ll admit he’s working quickly. ANTIGONE: That does it. You’ve got to see the mayor, tell him this village isn’t big enough for two funeral homes! RUDYARD: That’s not a bad idea actually, I’ll see him now. (leaves) One day I’ll find an umbrella. [narration] Rudyard scuttled across the village square and up the step leading to Piffling Hall. He was shown into the office of the Right Honourable Mayor Desmond Desmond. A man who thought the most wonderful words in the english language were “I’m sure it’s going to be fine!” SECRETARY: Mr Rudyard Funn to see you sir. MAYOR: Oh, Thank you Margery RUDYARD: Your worship, I really am most desperately sorry to- where are you? MAYOR: Down here, Rudyard, Under the desk. RUDYARD: Why? MAYOR: Ohh, just sitting here, you know. Doing a bit of thinking, big world out there RUDYARD: Yes, er I came to ask you- MAYOR: Rudyard, do you know what the difference is between a village and a town. RUDYARD: Well er, a town has a greater area, MAYOR: Yes? RUDYARD: Higher population, more amenities MAYOR: Ah, amenities, yes RUDYARD: A mayor! MAYOR: oh yes RUDYARD: I actually came to- MAYOR: We have to do something, Rudyard, with our lives haven’t we Rudyard? Don’t you think? RUDYARD: Yes! MAYOR: I look at my seal of office sometimes and all my envelopes, and I read my name, and have I done enough I ask myself, am I even Right Honourable because I don’t feel it. RUDYARD: Well, to call yourself Right Honourable you have to be a judge or a privy counsellor MAYOR: Really? I’m going to change all my stationary now! You see, this is the thing I’m talking about! What have I earned? What have I achieved? God knows we have to try and justify ourselves, somehow. RUDYARD: mhm, I don’t like the man across the road from me. MAYOR: Exactly, and then what with my sister passing the bucket last week, oh top drawer send off you chaps gave her by the way. RUDYARD: Oh, thank you! MAYOR: Oh, pity it rained RUDYARD: Yes well MAYOR: Can’t help that, or the grounds subsidence, still we all laughed seeing her flopping about like that did we- anyway, Do you know what I’ve decided to do, Rudyard? I am going to turn this village into a town. That’s what I’m going to do. I mean things must expand, mustn’t they? RUDYARD: Probably? MAYOR: Do you think so? Good! She used to say terrible things to me, my sister RUDYARD: I’ve got a problem actually MAYOR: Have you? Well can I help, cause I really like to be useful RUDYARD: I think you can be, you see, your worship, there’s this man. MAYOR: He’s not worth it Rudyard. RUDYARD: Yes. What? No I mean, this man is opening a new funeral home directly across the road from mine. MAYOR: Is that a problem? RUDYARD: We can’t have two funeral homes can’t we? MAYOR: Can’t we, why not RUDYARD: Well it’d be ridiculous! MAYOR: I don’t was to look ridiculous! RUDYARD: Exactly! If we have two funeral homes, why not two fire stations, two hospitals, two mayors! MAYOR: Two mayors!?! Could it really get that far? RUDYARD: I would hate to speculate MAYOR: Help me up, would you? Yes, I think we should stab this in the bud immediately. Thank you Rudyard. RUDYARD: Thank you your worship! MAYOR: Gets me out the office anyway RUDYARD: Well from under the desk. MAYOR: We won't talk about that. Margery, cancel my appointments for today SECRETARY: There aren’t any MAYOR: Thank you! Off we go, Rudyard [narration] Upon arriving at Chapman’s, Rudyard and the - until recently Right Honourable Mayor Desmond Desmond discovered that the place was about ready to be opened! And it wasn’t yet even midday! Rudyard braced himself for a sinister journey into the unknown MAYOR: Wasn’t this place an antique shop a few hours ago? RUDYARD: I don’t understand how he has managed to do all this?! MAYOR: Bit flash isn’t it, all these happy colours, not a patch on your set up, look not a speck of dust anywhere! RUDYARD: I mean, he arrived this morning! MAYOR: It must be said though, these sofas are really comfy! Is that a coffee machine? RUDYARD: Yes? MAYOR: Does your place have one of those? RUDYARD: We bought a kettle only half an hour ago CHAPMAN: Hi, sorry to keep you waiting as you can imagine, it’s all go here! RUDYARD: Is that a lift?! CHAPMAN: Mr Mayor, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Eric Chapman, there are some chocolate truffles in the bowl there, help yourself. Would you like the tour, I’d love to show you around, it’s still not quite finished MAYOR: Perhaps another time, Mr Chapman RUDYARD: You’ve got a lift?! MAYOR: Umm, I don’t know quite how to say this but CHAPMAN: How to say what, Mr Mayor? MAYOR: Well, it’s very naughty of you to have done this, is it? CHAPMAN: Is it? MAYOR: Oh without permission I mean CHAPMAN: But you gave me permission MAYOR: Did I? CHAPMAN: I mean before I came here, I was calling back and forth with your people and everything got sorted and err where are we, here we are, look, here’s your signature MAYOR: Yes, the smiley face in the ‘O’ well, it’s definitely mine! You must understand, I don't always read everything I’m given, I am usually kept very busy CHAPMAN: I’m sure, don’t worry about it MAYOR: What do you think? Rudyard? RUDYARD: That’s a really nice lift?!! CHAPMAN: Oh thanks Rudyard MAYOR: Yes, well, even with all this I mean, I am the mayor aren’t I and I have the perfect right to change my mind. CHAPMAN: Oh do you not want me here? MAYOR: No no no no! Not that but you see it’s just that well err, Rudyard? RUDYARD: Sorry? Yes er, Now Look Here CHAPMAN: Yes? RUDYARD: We’ve already got a funeral home MAYOR: Exactly! We’ve already got one and will the best will in the world we can’t have two funeral homes, can we? CHAPMAN: Why? MAYOR: Because, well, then you see, we’d need apparently have to have two hospitals you see? CHAPMAN: That’s a great idea MAYOR: Is it? Oh well good, I’d get onto that! BUT No, nevertheless the village just can’t sustain two funeral homes can it? CHAPMAN: You could be right there MAYOR: Could I? RUDYARD: Told you so CHAPMAN: But you know what could sustain two funeral homes? MAYOR: No? CHAPMAN: A town! MAYOR: A town? You say? RUDYARD: Hmm No! No- CHAPMAN: Now don’t get me wrong, this is a great village but I think it’s going to be an even greater town! And I want to help you do that in the only way I can: with a funeral home. MAYOR: Can I ask you a question? CHAPMAN: Go for it MAYOR: If we had two funeral homes would we need two mayors as well? CHAPMAN: No. That’s ridiculous MAYOR: Oh, excellent in that case I hereby pronounce this funeral home: open! RUDYARD: What? What are they doing there?! CHAPMAN: We’re taking advance orders, it’s just a service we provide. MAYOR: Well, I won’t take up any more of your time. Mr Chapman CHAPMAN: Oh please, Mr Mayor, It’s Eric MAYOR: Best of luck Eric, if you are ever at a loose end, do pop by the hall, sometimes we have movie nights! CHAPMAN: I’ll remember that and if you ever need our services it’s on the house. MAYOR: Tremendous, looking forward to it, now RUDYARD: Now, now hang on, we- MAYOR: Glad to have you here CHAPMAN: Mr Mayor MAYOR: No no no, call me Desmond! Ttfn CHAPMAN: Talk to you later, Desmond MAYOR: Should I leave the doors open? CHAPMAN: Oh, if you would, Rudyard I’m sorry I can’t stay and chat, can I get you anything. Oh I know what, make yourself a cup of coffee, I’ll better see to that queue eh? Enjoy yourself! Don’t forget the truffles! Good morning ladies and gentlemen, well afternoon now. Well, I’m delighted to say welcome to Chapman’s and remember: We put the fun in funerals RUDYARD: Chapman! [narration] After a coffee, and a couple of truffles, Rudyard stormed out, seething with resentment. He kicked a small dog and got bitten by its owner. Having gotten back to Funn Funerals, Rudyard sat down on a chair by the window and stared out across the road muttering out loud to his only real friend in the world RUDYARD: (muttering) It’s only a funeral home who the hell do they think they are eh? (squeaks) RUDYARD: Exactly, I give him a week, alright maybe two.. Ah he might have gold blend and lounge music but you can’t put a glass on the mechanics. We get the body in the coffin in the ground on time, That’s what it's about, I bet his corpses don't smell of cinnamon. Yeah, we’ll see who runs this village. ANTIGONE: Rudyard you’re talking to that mouse again aren’t you? RUDYARD: Her name is Madeleine ANTIGONE: It’s not normal! RUDYARD: Antigone, you spend twenty-three hours a day in the mortuary don’t try to tell me what’s normal. Off you go Madeleine, we’ll continue this later ANTIGONE: You haven’t moved all afternoon! RUDYARD: I don’t need to move, I’m plotting ANTIGONE: Where’s Georgie? RUDYARD: Day off, no work, plotting. ANTIGONE: Rudyard, for the first time in our lives we actually have competition which means we could really do with having some friends so could you get out there and make some? RUDYARD: I’ll do it tomorrow ANTIGONE: Have you at least gone round to check on Mr Ascii RUDYARD: Who? ANTIGONE: Mr Ascii, the man we’ve been waiting to die for six weeks, because so help me I need to embalm somebody and it could quite easily be you RUDYARD: Look Mr Ascii’s immortal, he’ll never die so what’s the point about it. Now Look Here, Georgie? What? Right, I’ll see you there. Mr Ascii’s dead. ANTIGONE: Is he? RUDYARD: Yes. OH MY GOD MR ASCII’S DEAD! ANTIGONE: How?! RUDYARD: Heart attack, half an hour ago it’s all around the village, Antigone, I’m so happy! ANTIGONE: Took him long enough RUDYARD: Ahh He’s dead, he’s dead, he’s dead, he’s dead, he’s dead, he’s dead! ANTIGONE: Rudyard! Stop being happy and get over there now! RUDYARD: Sorry, yes, get over there, I’m gone. Rudyard is back in the game! … Rudyard is going to get wet! Have the mortuary ready! ANTIGONE: And Rudyard, don’t cock it up. [narration] Before you judge Rudyard too harshly at his delight at an old man’s demise, I should tell you that Mr Ascii was Rudyard’s old PE teacher at school so his delight is almost entirely justified. Rudyard met Georgie at Mr Ascii’s bijuu residence at five forty-five. GEORGIE: Okay, okay RUDYARD: Georgie GEORIGIE: Sir? RUDYARD: Say it again for me won’t you, say it again GEORGIE: Alright, Mr Ascii’s dead but listen I’ve got- RUDYARD: Yeessssss, Get in there my son… whatever that means GEORGIE: Yeah I ought to say- RUDYARD: I’ve been looking forward to putting him in the ground, can’t mock me for losing the 200 metre dash now can you, Mr Ascii! GEORGIE: Before you get excited RUDYARD: Right yes, got to straighten up, think grave. How do I look? GEORGIE: Miserable RUDYARD: Great, let’s go GEORGIE: But sir, NURSE: Could we please have some quiet out here, oh it’s you, Mister Funn RUDYARD: Good afternoon nurse, Could please take this opportunity to convey my most prevermed(???) condolences NURSE: Thank you Mister Funn RUDYARD: I’m sure my apprentice Ms Crusoe, has already carried out our preliminary duties so I think in the interest of efficiency we should let the dog see the rabbit, if you’ll take me through NURSE: Well, This is actually rather embarrassing RUDYARD: Oh please don’t say it’s a false alarm! NURSE: In a sense,,, yes RUDYARD: Oh for, Georgie you said he was dead GEORGIE: He is dead RUDYARD: But, ugh, Nurse, one of us in this corridor is deeply confused and I’m beginning to believe it might be you NURSE: No? RUDYARD: I knew it, she’s mad, grab her Georgie. NURSE: I’m not mad! RUDYARD: That’s what a mad person would say, Georgie GEORGIE: Let’s do this CHAPMAN: Rudyard! Great to see you RUDYARD: Chapman! CHAPMAN: Busy afternoon, eh, hello Georgie GEORGIE: Hey, Eric RUDYARD: Stop flirting. Nurse, I demand this man be told to vacate this bijuu residence immediately CHAPMAN: Look, this is my bad, and I’ve really got to apologise for this one NURSE: Mr Ascii requested it! RUDYARD: He what? NURSE: With his final words he said he couldn’t bare to get buried by such a feeble little weed as Rudyard Funn CHAPMAN: Interesting man, he wanted to see my gold medals from the 200 metre dash, gotta say I wasn’t expecting business to kick off so quickly NURSE: You’re doing a most proper job Mr Chapman CHAPMAN: Thank you nurse, I think we’ll collect him first thing tomorrow. Anyway must run, good to see you Rudyard, Georgie. Enjoy yourselves! Ahh NURSE: What a charming man, I hear he’s still a bachelor RUDYARD: So am I.. NURSE: Yes well, hardly surprising is it? GEORGIE: Ahh well, can’t win em all eh sir? Sir, are you alright? RUDYARD: I am so… SIX O CLOCK GEORGIE: Six o clock? RUDYARD: Six o clock! The cemetery, Stanley’s widow, Stanley Carmichael’s widow in the cemetery at six o clock! GEORGIE: Oh yeah! I forgot about that! RUDYARD: What time is it? GEORGIE: About five to six but you’ll never get there. Sir?! Oh for god’s sake, Rudyard! Come back here you stupid. [narration] Rudyard raced down the cliff, past the trees and through the streets with speed that would have finally impressed Mr Ascii, had he not already been dead. His lungs aching for breath, his limbs trembling with the effort, Rudyard tumbled into the cemetery at exactly one minute past six. To discover… RUDYARD: It’s…. It’s all REV: Ahh, there you are Rudyard! RUDYARD: Reverend? What’s going on? REV: Well, I arrived to oversee the preliminaries on Mrs Carmichael’s err, transferal to a better world - if such a place exists - which i'm not certain about one way or the other, and I found that her family and friends had been gathered together already for the funeral. RUDYARD: For the funeral? REV: Since the deceased was already here, and sensibly dressed, he just got it done out of the way, young fella named Eric, got his own funeral practise I understand. I’m hearing marvelous things about it. He’s got a coffee machine! Led them all a couple of sing songs actually, even had my speech prepared for me! Very succinct it was, breezed through it all in no time. RUDYARD: Chapman… REV: Oh he also found a lake! Over there! I think we’re all going boating in a minute. He owns a boat you know RUDYARD: Chapman! REV: Anyway, I better get to be going back to it, we’re having jelly and ice cream, bags of fun. Goodbye, Rudyard! Or should I say: Enjoy yourself! RUDYARD: I see. I see. Well CHAPMAN: Hello Rudyard. RUDYARD: Oh. It’s. you. Did a fair job I hear, congratulations, don’t think it will always be like this they won’t hand it to you on a plate you know, they won’t do that. This is very much the exception. Oh what? What? You can talk can’t you? Say something? CHAPMAN: Rudyard. Have a nice evening. RUDYARD: What do you- What do you mean: have a nice evening? What do you mean by that remark, Chapman? What if I don’t want to have a nice evening? Eh? What if I Don’t? Chapman! What did you mean! Chapman! Chapman?! [narration] Today had been the worst day of Rudyard’s life, until tomorrow came along and topped it. I was there to jot it all down from first hand observation (and a little bit of gossip I picked up later) and of course, being his only real friend in the world, Rudyard tells me everything. My name is Madeleine - I’m going to be the first mouse to be a Sunday Times Best Seller, and I know for a fact that Rudyard want to revenge himself on Eric by well, we’ll burn that bridge when be come to it

#season one #s1 ep1 #The bane of Rudyard #wooden overcoats #wooden overcoats transcripts #rudyard funn #antigone funn #georgie crusoe #eric chapman #podcast #podcast transcript

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remus-lupin-is-my-type · 4 years

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Where have I been? (a post for anyone who might still care lol)

Anyone who knows me knows I’ve taken a looooong hiatus from cosplay, but I’ve also taken a general hiatus from this blog as well. I wanted to take the time to explain some of the reasons why. Explanation below the cut.

1. Toxicity

I’ve had this blog for many, many years. It’s always been My Thing to follow back everyone. But in doing so, I’ve accidentally created a pretty decently toxic environment for myself on my own dash? It seems that wherever I scroll, there are people arguing, constant reminders of how terrible the world and society are, and people shaming other people for things they like. My once-fun dashboard of fandom and all things queer, has just become not quite fun anymore? Social justice issues are really important to me, deeply important, but constant reminders about how terrible the world is can really bring me down (particularly in these already troubling times). I know that running from it is a particularly privileged thing to be able to do (I may be pan, but I’m still white and cis), but sometimes I just gotta put myself and my own mental health first. One day I’m hoping to try to take back control of my blog and do some much needed purging, but it’s going to be a monumental task after so many years. But I really do miss reblogging fandom things. I’ve made a completely separate blog for all things Aesthetic that do nothing but make me happy—essentially creating my own little safe space. It’s been a great non-pressure, anonymous way to just de-stress, but I do miss mucking around in fandom nonsense. BUT this also brings me to another reason...

2. Supernatural and The Destiel Debacle

*spoilers ahead for the final season of SPN* That final scene with Cas absolutely destroyed me. I’m a few seasons behind, but when I woke up one morning and Destiel was trending everywhere, of course I looked up and watched the video. And guys. I SOBBED. Not just a few tears, full on WEPT for at least an hour. I was so heartbroken, not just because a beloved character died, but of how he died. The fact that Cas told Dean everything I’ve always wanted him to, but in the WORST WAY POSSIBLE, only for him to promptly die without Dean even saying anything. I just couldn’t deal. I was Properly Depressed for several days after that, and I still sometimes think about it and get really sad. I could have forgiven this, had they put Cas in the finale, gave you hope that maybe he and Dean could be something in Heaven, together, but no. Of course not. The whole thing genuinely put such a bad taste in my mouth for all fandom and network television in general. Also, it hurt me to see people actually calling this a WIN. I’m not here to take away anything from anyone—if you loved it, that’s great and I’m happy for you. But GUYS. It was CRUMBS. Is it great that Cas is a confirmed queer character? Sure, but they killed him the second his confession was over. Rowan Ellis did a great YouTube video about the whole thing, and I highly suggest you watch it, it really put things in perspective for me. The fact is, they had TWELVE YEARS to give you this, and they didn’t. It’s like Marvel expecting us to be singing their praises cuz a Russo brother mentioned a boyfriend, a few minutes out of their ENTIRE MOVIE FRANCHISE. Anyway, I was so disheartened I didn’t want to participate in fandom whatsoever. (Luckily, I’ve recently fallen in love with Black Sails—also thanks to Rowan Ellis—and its amazing writing, characters, story, and queer representation helped give me hope again).

3. Self-image

This more directly relates to cosplay. I gained weight again, and my motivation to cosplay dropped significantly. Suddenly there just didn’t seem a point to getting into all the makeup and putting in the effort if I wasn’t going to like what I saw on the webcam. Luckily, I’ve recently read a FANTASTIC book called “What We Don’t Talk About When We Talk About Fat” by Aubrey Gordon, and it was honestly life-changing. It forced me to completely reframe how I think about myself and society, and I’ve actively been making an effort to feel better and unashamed in my own skin, and it’s been going well! I’ve stopped planning my entire life and happiness and worth around whatever number I wanted the scales to reflect. But, that being said, cosplay is still a struggle for me. Though I’m generally more accepting of myself now, I still find it difficult to play my favourite characters, almost all of which are attractive males. I’m admittedly hard on myself about it, my subconscious constantly telling me that I’m not androgynous enough or sexy enough to play these characters. Of course you don’t have to be these things to cosplay, I’m a huge advocate that ANYONE can cosplay WHOEVER they want, but this is what I, personally, am going through. One step at a time, as they say!

And that’s about it. I’m not sure when I’ll be back, and I make no promises. But maybe I’ll pop in to post a gay gifset or two sometime :) I’ve also been pondering TikTok a lot, so who knows, maybe that’ll be a thing in the future. This explanation was as much for my benefit as to those reading—it feels good to get this stuff off my chest and I hope you understand. Love you all so, so much and I hope you’re all getting nothing but the best out of this hell site lol ❤️

Stay safe and stay happy, Nicki xo

#personal #hp rp community

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miss-edith-cushing · 4 years

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Tag people you want to know better / catch up with. I've been tagged by @ashfae and I’m not surprised at all - she probably noticed how much I love tag games; and the second I saw someone on my dash answering those questions I hoped Ashfae will be a dear and will tag me, and of course I wasn’t wrong - so thank you!

Last song: Zbigniew Preisner - Niebo (Sky) - performed by Elżbieta Towarnicka It’s the last piece with lyrics I listened to, so I guess I should choose this one. It’s an aria from Preisner’s ‘De Aegypto’ (called also ‘Egyptian Opera’), which is... I’m not entirely sure what is that - it was a spectacle performed in TV, but I never listened and seen all of it, and I don’t think it’s available in any way, legally or illegaly. You may know Preisner as a composer who created film scores for Krzysztof Kieślowski’s movies, the best known of which are The Three Colours Trylogy (’White’, ‘Blue’ and ‘Red’) and ‘The Double Life of Veronique’. Elżbieta Towarnicka is his probably favourite performer, and you will clearly hear why (she worked with him also on scores for films I just mentioned). The piece itself was inspired by the Egyptian Book of the Dead and the lyrics refer to it.

You know what, this is such a beautiful song and lyrics in the comments are not properly translated, so I’ll do it for you:

You are the yesterday,

You are the today,

You are the tomorrow,*

And you have the power to be born for the second time.

You are the divine soul

That created the gods,

You are strong,

Brightness lasts** in your heart.

Let him wander in peace,

Let him cross*** the skies,

Let him worship the brightness,

Let him, let him, let him.

I am the yesterday,

I am the today,

I am the tomorrow

And I have the power to be born for the second time,

For the second time.

* Using one word for naming the days - yesterday, today and tomorrow - sounds kinda dull here, because the language of this song is very formal. Normally when we want to say ‘yesterday’, we say just ‘wczoraj’ instead of ‘dzień wczorajszy’ (day... yesterday-y??? the first word means just ‘day’, the second word is an adjective), and that rather unusual pattern was used here to describe the days. I have no clue if English has any equivalent of that; but I felt giving you this information is important.

** The verb here, ‘trwać’, have many meanings, and one of them is ‘to last’. I’m not sure if that’s perfect word here - maybe I should choose ‘stay’. 'Trwać’ means here that the brightness in his heart will not fade away - it’s so special not because the circumstances are unfavourable for it to exist, but because that described being is a creature with an unique nature that ensures him to keep the brightness in himself.

*** Do you remember that iconic line from ‘Bram Stoker’s Dracula’ with Gary Oldman? ‘I have crossed oceans of time to find you’? This is exactly the meaning. ‘Przemierzać’ means to travel for a very long time and across a huge distance, so the journey feels like it will never end (which doesn’t have to be an unpleasant feeling). It can be a journey repeated routinely on one road (like the sun, or the ship that cruises between two harbors) or a way of roaming through large space in many directions (like a continent or a sea).

Hey, look who started babbling again, how unexpected.

Last movie: At home: ‘Secretary’ (2002). I’ve seen it many years ago and didn’t remember much, and now I liked it a lot. For my film d’auteur class: ‘La Chute de la Maison Usher’ by Jean Epstein. Pure beauty. And I gave in on Thursday and went to IMAX to watch ‘Tenet’. I’m very serious about this whole pandemic business, but I sure as hell ain’t gonna watch this movie for the first time on the screen of my laptop. I’m not entirely sure what happened, this whole wibbly wobbly, timey wimey stuff was too complicated to understand so quickly, so I’ll definitely watch it again, but it blew me away and that’s exactly what I wished to happen.

Currently Watching: ‘Supernatural’. It’s the last season, five episodes left... Ugh, I’m already getting nervous. And I guess that’s it... I haven’t watched any new show lately, except for miniseries like ‘Des’ (GOSH that was so good). I don’t feel like starting any new shows and when a few months ago I tried to watch ‘Masters of Sex’ I’ve noticed binge-watching makes me very depressed and nervous very easily, so I stopped. I have a few shows I’m planning to watch, but not many, i.e. ‘Killing Eve’, ‘The Terror’ and ‘The Queen’s Gambit’ - the last one mostly because Marcin Dorociński plays in it - this dude should be more famous than Leonardo DiCaprio and win one award after another. If you have HBO GO, ‘Bez tajemnic’ (’Without secrets’), Polish version of ‘In treatment’, should be available there - there are plenty of incredible and legendary actors in this show, but he is the absolute star of it. And for fellow David Tennant’s fans out there: I haven’t watched ‘Spies of Warsaw’ yet, but Dorociński played Antoni Pakulski there and certainly was great too.

Currently Reading: I just started ‘My Brilliant Friend’ by Elena Ferrante - my therapist says I’m very much like the title character and I’m very curious what does it mean. I have also a few articles about theory of cinema to read for my tomorrow’s course: ‘On the politique des auteurs’ and ‘The Ontology of the Photographic Image‘ by André Bazin and ‘The birth of a new avant-garde: La caméra-stylo’ by Alexandre Astruc. SO damn interesting. And SHIT-TON of books about Medea - I’m writing my master’s thesis about her, but please don’t ask me about it, I’m already panicking.

Currently Craving: A good long sleep that would last for at least eight hours. To feel strong and healthy enough (I’m extremely tired, my back and stomach hurt like hell) so I could be able to clean up a little, wash my woolen sweaters by hand (I’m not throwing them into washing machine, they cost too much to risk any damage), organize my desk and uni notes from last year... I’m in one of those rare, but powerful moods of making lists of things to take care of and just... putting my world in order. And visiting places. And I would gladly just spend nice, simple time with some of my friends - just having fun and talking about important, but not especially painful stuff. I really, really need to meet with Olaf, my best friend from work, and joke with him, and talk with him like a new bi person with an old-timer gay person, and get to know him better.

Anyone surprised my replies are so long? I’m not.

And now the worst, stressful part: tagging. @dearcrowley @heart-blood-death @darkanachronism - but if you’d like to answer those questions and haven’t tag you, feel invited to do it and please tag me so I could see it!

#personal #shit this is a damn long post #i'm almost embarassed about it #almost - because i do a lot of interesting things and i'm not going to bully myself into thinking i shouldn't talk about them

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jaehyutaeyong · 4 years

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hi cam! i hope you have had a decent day so far— if not, please know that i’m sending you all of my love (well, i’m sending it regardless 😘💕)!! i love you cam!

so for the ask box game, this is kind of a mix of looking forward to tomorrow but at the same time, kind of a venting post, i guess. i’ll start with the good news!

tomorrow, i have my first day off since the summer! since school started, i’ve had class every day, and i’ve either gone straight to work or worked on assignments. and for every weekend, i’ve been scheduled both days— it’s been so draining. and that on top of my anxiety and depression, i have felt super sick and tired all the time for the past month. so finally, FINALLY, i have tomorrow off to relax! i have a seasonal job right now so it’s coming to a close, and they don’t need as many people working every day. i can’t wait to try to get some writing and art done for my WIPs tomorrow— i have like, 120 i think? 🤦🏼‍♀️😅 i’m a mess right now.

... and that brings me to my venting. so i have all of these projects, right? for some reason, i can’t get myself to follow through on any plans that i’ve made to work on them. i keep adding more projects because i see challenges and stuff popping up in my dash, but it’s making the problem worse. i will sit down and open my computer or whatever, but 9 times out of 10, i get distracted. that 1 other time is super focused work. but honestly, it’s just so frustrating because i genuinely want to do those projects. i just, can’t? and i really don’t know why. it’s getting to the point where i feel awful about it because i know people will tell me to enjoy it and take my time on everything, but that’s the problem. i can’t get myself to actually do anything. i’m taking too much time!

and it doesn’t help that i came up with the BEST IDEA EVER the other day and it’s a time sensitive project. it’s a hugeee commitment but i really really really wanna do it because the outcome would make me so happy 🥰

anyway. i think that’s basically it. i know there’s nothing you can do, i’m just a little tired and frustrated right now because i don’t know what’s wrong with my brain (i think i do but i need to figure it out). i’m sorry to be negative cam— i love you, and thanks for reading this! ☺️❤️

Hi, baby!!! 💖💖💖 I always love seeing your asks 🧡

First of all, YAY FOR DAY OFF!!!! I can only imagine the amount of stress you are on, with classes and assignments and job and dealing with life the way it is now 😥 You are so strong baby, I hope you know that! Remember that being strong is not going through turmoil without fear/anxiety/stress/sadness, but going through it even though you feel all these things. It takes a whole lot of courage to do that 💛

About getting stuck while having so many things to do, this happens to me too, hunny *hugs* I've read that whenever our brain realizes we have more than 3 to 4 big tasks during the day, it shuts off, as a way to protect us (that's where procrastination comes from). What helps me is planning my days and weeks having that in mind, so no matter the amount of things I have to do, I dissolve them in my days & weeks so I don't feel overwhelmed. My bullet journal helps me tremendously with that, I cannot live without it anymore!

Even then, there are some days I cannot do all the tasks I wrote, and I learned with time to respect and forgive myself whenever that happens, and postpone whatever that was for the next day. It really has been incredibly helpful 😊

It also seemed to me that the very good idea you had is actually the one you want to pursue most rn, so why not start there? Even if it takes a while, the important thing is that you'll see it coming to life little by little, and you'll enjoy the whole process ❤ If the other projects are Tumblr related, they can wait 😉

Tell me your story 🧡

#lovely people #lovely asks #ily helena ❤❤❤

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animebw · 4 years

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Binge-Watching: March Comes in Like a Lion S2, Episodes 1-3

Season 2, go! In which Rei’s growth makes me so fucking happy, the cast continues to expand ever outward, and somebody is gonna fucking PAY.

Running on Water

The first scene of Sangatsu no Lion was Rei waking up in his room after a bleak, depressive nightmare. The light was pale and peaked, the colors were washed out and grey, and his apartment was cast in heavy, empty shades of silence. It was as chilling an introduction to the terrors of living trapped inside your own head as I’ve ever seen realized. So when Sangatsu’s second season once again starts with a very similar scene of Rei waking up in his room, it couldn’t be clearer what kind of parallel it’s trying to draw. If the start of the first season was our introduction to Rei at his lowest, then the start of the second is our re-introduction to Rei after all the progress he’s made in the past 22 episodes. And the difference could not be more striking. Instead of silence, there’s a soft, welcoming background track. Instead of pale stillness, the outside light illuminates the empty space with a sense of warm comfort and the curtains billow in a wind that Rei no longer flinches away from. The space that seemed so alien, so bleak, now almost seems... hopeful. Like the dead air has been sucked out and replaced by a new sense of life. And just to drive that point home, whereas the first OP’s imagery had Rei sinking deep into the dark waters of his depression, this new OP shows him literally running on water, rising above his demons and pushing himself forward with unyielding determination. Rei Kiriyama is no longer drowning; at long last, he’s found the courage to live.

And I can’t even put into words how fucking rewarding it is to see. This poor kid’s been through so much, suffered so much shit he didn’t deserve, but he’s fought through hell and back to open up to the world, and he’s made it. He’s actually fucking smiling now! He’s having fun being the master of his school’s shogi club and hanging out with his new friends! He’s gotten cocky enough to do the classic glasses push in response to Hayashida’s shenanigans (”Please think on your own.”)! He gets invested in going full Doctor Stone with the chemistry kids! He’s actually eager about participating in fun experiments with them just for the heck of it (and they’re absolutely right, his delightful surprise made the whole experiment worthwhile)! And the sheer awe that bubbles over in his mind as he realizes he’s actually having fun at school for maybe the first time in his life is... gaaaaah, it’s so fucking good! It’s the happiest and most motivated we’ve ever seen him before! Hell, he even gets called out by so many people on the biggest stumbling blocks he still hasn’t gotten over- shogi being more a source of stress than fun for him, thinking he can breeze through the rookie tournament because he takes his opponents for granted- and it’s the first time it looks like those realizations actually get through to him! AND IT’S FUCKING HILARIOUS! Seriously, I could not stop fucking laughing at the way he blue-screens in response to being asked if he even finds shogi fun (”The background has metaphorical images as accompaniment”). But even that’s nothing compared to how fucking flawlessly Nikaido hands him his ass when he starts taking the tournament for granted again. Holy. Fucking. CHRIST. My sides still hurt from cackling at his embarrassed dash out of the shogi hall, he’s such an absolute jellybean it hurts. And the chairman leaving him to flounder in humiliation because it was funnier that way was was just the icing on the cake.

God, it’s just... it’s fucking joyful. I know I use that word a lot to describe this show, but it’s never been more apt than it is here. We’re seeing Rei finally start to embrace what life has to offer, finally start to value himself, finally start to take his life into his own hands and decide for himself what he wants to be a part of it. He even heads over to Akari and his sisters of his own accord, for no other reason than because he wants to see them, and he wants to share what’s going on in his life with them because he finally believes he has a life worth sharing. We’re seeing the hard-fought efforts of the entire first season burst into glorious bloom, and my cheeks still hurt from smiling so hard at it all. It’s spiritually fulfilling on a level I can barely put into words, triumphant and rapturous in the way that only the simple victories of ordinary life can be. It makes this kid seizing control over his own life feel as titanic as slaying a dragon, the smile that beams from his face in the presence of Hina and Momo the treasure it was guarding. Sangatsu no Lion has always been fucking amazing, but the emotions it’s reaching now are truly special. And if it keeps this level of quality up throughout the second season, there’s no question it’s gonna end up among my favorite anime of all time.

It Takes a City

But it would be a mistake to focus only on Rei here. After all, part of what’s made this show so compelling recently is how well it’s expanded its focus beyond him, getting us invested in the countless people whose lives intermingle with his. There’s almost a Gintama-esque quality to how expansive the cast is becoming. Following Rei’s life brings us into contact with a whole bunch of characters, we get invested in those characters by following their lives in turn, which also brings us into contact with even more characters who form their social circle, and each one of those characters gets a chance for us to follow their lives, and so forth and so on. It builds a vast, complex web of connections between the entire cast, with some people knowing everyone, some people only knowing a few others, and everyone presenting an opportunity to peek into a new social circle and meet even more people with life stories worth following. Rei may be the overall protagonist, but the tapestry of interconnected characters forming around him is just as important to the show’s focus. This is Shimada’s story now, and also Kyouko’s story, and also Souya’s story, and also a whole bunch of new stories we’re only just being introduced too. Sangatsu no Lion is officially an ensemble piece by now, and it’s a damn fine one indeed.

With a cast that big, a lot of these first few episodes are dedicated to setting up what stories we’ll be following moving forward, what characters we should have our eyes on and what journeys we should prepare to get invested in. It looks like we’re gonna be spending a lot of time with the elite shogi players in a big, high-stakes tournament. Souya’s still hovering in the background like a seagull waiting eagerly for his turn to shine, and we get a little more insight into him when it’s revealed that he drinks straight glucose in his tea to help keep his energy up in matches, an analytical approach befitting his almost inhuman nature. Meanwhile, his opponent Kamakura is a man of great stoic passion (”Sorry to interrupt when you’ve having fun, but can I have my shoes back?”), who carries himself with immense dignity but also scarfs down cakes at the speed of light, recognizes his defeat seventeen moves before it happens, and kicks a wall in fury over his loss when no one’s looking. Nikaido’s still on his Legendary Shonen Rivals LARPing kick (and Rei is more done with his nonsense than usual), Shimada’s understandably in a bit of a slump following his loss to Souya (here’s hoping he can fight out of it), and of all people, Gotou’s revealing tragic new dimensions behind his surface-level aggression.

Yeah, that shocked me too, but the time we spend with Gotou in this episode makes me realize that Rei might have been too quick to judge him. He’s the loudest voice to speak up in defense of Shimada’s honor when he’s being heckled by some snot-nosed brats (”It just annoys me seeing people heckle others when they haven’t even climbed into the ring themselves.”), he’s clearly struggling with the heavy burden of his comatose wife, and he just seems so... sad. I completely understand Rei’s uncertainty about him; if the same guy who’s causing his sister so much pain also stuck up for Shimada, how should he feel about him? And even Kyouko’s only becoming more and more compelling in her messiness. She actually went with him to help him buy presents for his wife in the hospital; that’s the most selfless thing we’ve ever seen her do, but she undercuts it right after by imposing on her personal space against his wishes. And as hilarious as it is for him to literally tie her to the bed to keep her from pouncing on him so he can get some sleep, it’s clear he doesn’t want nearly as much from this relationship as she does. He’s trying to distance himself from her, still caring about his wife, but he can’t quite outright tell her to piss off and leave him alone. It’s such a messy, broken, unhealthy bond, and as shocked as I am to be feeling sorry for Gotou, I’m genuinely nervous for how it could end up hurting both of them if they don’t sort their shit out.

FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU

But that’s not what’s got me the most nervous at the moment. The true spike of horror that threatens to shatter this newfound comfort is possibly the most appalling turn this show’s taken yet: somebody’s been making Hina sad. Somebody at school has decided to make her life hell. And if you think you’ve seen me lose control of my emotions before, you do not want to know that thoughts than ran through my head when she comes home sobbing at the end of episode 3. Whoever’s bullying her better make damn sure they’ve picked up life insurance, because there’s not gonna be a scrap of them left when I find out who it is. I will eradicate them from the face of the earth so utterly there won’t even be a soul left to sink down to hell. Because that is the price you fucking pay for causing my favorite character in this show so much pain. And with Rei starting to relive memories of his own bullying, I can only imagine what painful parallels are gonna come up before all is said and done. I just pray he decides to be a kinder soul than me, because as much as I would love to see him act out justice, he in no way deserves the blood that would put on his hands. But mark my words, there will be blood before I let Hina suffer another minute. So get your umbrellas out, because we’re about to have one hell of a red rainstorm.

Odds and Ends

-lololol, it’s countermeasures all the way down.

-These cat shogi sections just keep getting more entertaining.

-”I don’t want to listen to reason right now!” i love him so fucking much holy shit

-Is it just me, or is there a lot more experimentation going on with the animation style? I dig it.

-”Do you guys do nothing but eat?” “It’s science.” ldskjskldjslkj

-”Throw those two out of here.” REKT

-”People who don’t cherish their family are trash!” Wooow, that’s a loaded statement.

-”To me, humans are the embidoment of chaos.” Ain’t that the truth.

-”A pie in the sky is tasty, but it won’t fill you up.” ...god dammit that’s such a great line

-”WE’VE GOT A CHILD PRODIGY HERE!” Grandpa, you’re the best.

-”The more I helped out, the sadder she looked.” This is the first time we’ve heard of his adoptive mom, and it’s already making me nervous.

-”I would play, and play, and play, and play, and play...” If you listen in the background you can hear me sucking in air, because Jesus fuck, I hate how I right I was in talking about his trauma.

Holy hell, what a show. See you next time for more of season 2!

#anime #the anime binge-watcher #tabw #march comes in like a lion #sangatsu no lion #3-gatsu no lion

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