mmatepa333

[josefavomjaaga]

How Soult met his wife

In her biography "Soult. Maréchal d’Empire et homme d’état", author Nicole Gotteri quotes some excerpts from the Liber rationum, i.e. the budget book of the Berg family that, as in many old bourgeois families, doubled as a family chronicle. I do not think this has been published in German, so I will translate it into English from Gotteri’s French translation.

According to the entry, Soult […]

[…] was assigned by billet to Madame Berg, the widow of a manufacturer of steel weapons in Solingen, in the Duchy of Berg. Louise, Madame Berg's third daughter, was fresh, pretty, lively and spirited.

As to her freshness, some of Soult’s contemporaries might have taken a different view here. But it’s interesting that Soult, unlike many others at the time, did not marry a teenager but a woman pretty much his own age, who could be a real partner for him. Louise had indeed already managed the household of a wealthy uncle, so had an unusual level of experience in practical matters:

She had just spent several years in Barmen, running the household of one of her mother's brothers, Monsieur Mumm, a wealthy merchant retired from business. On hearing the news of the hospitality imposed on her towards this French general, Madame Berg sent her daughter to the mayor to beg him to change this arrangement, alleging that the general's youth would make his presence inconvenient within the family.

In other words, she feared that this French skirtchaser she had to shelter in her house would sooner or later compromise her daughter's virtue. After all, everybody knows what these Frenchmen are usually up to, right? - Though, personally, knowing Wilhelmine’s rather parsimonious habits, I wonder if the financial aspect didn’t play a teeny-tiny role as well…

The mayor was adamant, objecting that as Madame Berg was one of the most important and best housed residents of Solingen, it was only appropriate that she should receive the commander of the victorious troops in her home.

As a matter of fact, the two ladies, Wilhelmine and Louise, basically must have had the house to themselves (not counting the servants, of course), as both of Louise’s older sisters were already married and out of town, and her younger brother was apprenticed to another uncle, Abraham Knecht. Not quartering anybody in a house that was half-empty, when plenty of people in Solingen had to squeeze together in their homes in order to make room for those unwanted French guests, probably would not have been a good look for the magistrate. So, awfully sorry, Wilhelmine, you’ll somehow have to live with that Gallic seducer Soult for a while…

Soon, the young general's harsh demeanour and reserved habits reconciled Madame Berg with her host: [...]

Wilhelmine: Oh, I’m so relieved! This has to be the most unfriendly and taciturn guy in all of France. He’s been in my house for a tenday now and I have yet to see him smile even once. He’s cold, rude and downright unpleasant. Right, Louise?

Louise: ...

[…] he wasn't much trouble and he didn't speak German. But this very circumstance brought results that were far from foreseeable. Sometimes it was necessary to arrange one thing or another with him, and Mademoiselle Louise, the only person in the house who knew French, a language she had learnt at her uncle's house, had to act as interpreter and go-between. That's how they got to know each other, formed an opinion of each other, appreciated each other and fell in love with each other. And a few months later, the same mayor, in joining them in marriage (26 April 1796), laughingly recalled how Mademoiselle Louise had been urging him to lodge General Soult anywhere but at her mother's house.

Mayor: Yeah, sorry about that. Guess we really should have put him elsewhere, huh?

Notably missing from this story is any mention of that mysterious figure named "Duffieux de la Grange Merlin", an émigré whom Louise Berg, according to another story, was ready to elope with at the time when Soult was quartered at her mother’s house. Interestingly, Nicole Gotteri in her biography speculates that, if there is something to it, this might refer to one Auguste Du Fey, a member of the etat-major of the Duc de Broglie, who actually happened to be in the Düsseldorf region around 1794.

[silent-mysteriousguy]

You probably saw this coming, but this scene for the Writing Meme:

“Berg,” Cyrus simply stated as he walked up to the man, who now looked up from his sword, that expression disappearing to be replaced by a friendly smile.

“Oh, greetings, Cyrus. What are-” 

“You are hiding something.”

The statement did something Cyrus had not expected: Berg’s face flushed red.

“U-um. What exactly do you mean by that?” he sounded uncharacteristically self-conscious. Well, if getting a reaction out of him was so easy,  Cyrus might as well just bluff his way through this awkward hellhole he put himself in.

“I have become aware that you have been lying to me for a while. Now, you can just confess it or I will reveal it myself. Your choice.”

In reality, Cyrus was more panicking on the inside than he was showing. In reality, he had not much to reveal except for the grand statement of “haha, you lying bastard! You were a Hornburgian knight!” 

But, if he wasn’t supposed to be the one nervous, Berg was doing the job for the both of them. The man looked like he just saw the destruction of a kingdom on repeat.

“Are… Are you alright?” now, Cyrus was getting kind of worried. Perhaps he had been too rude? In reality, Berg was, of course, at fault here, but it did not stop him from being worried.

“I am quite alright, thank you. But, you are sadly right, I have indeed been lying to you.”

“Oh,” Cyrus let out a nervous chuckle, perhaps that would lighten the mood? He was already happy enough that Berg was becoming more willing to be truthful with him. “Yeah, it was quite simple to figure out that you were a Knight of Hornburg-”

“-I am indeed in love with you.” Berg blurted out, before falling silent.

The two men stared at each other in horror, realizing the fatal error both had just committed.

After two minutes of complete and utter awkward silence, Berg spoke up, “Well, I suppose my confession wasn’t the one you were looking for, was it?”

“It indeed wasn’t,” he barely managed to get out, because oh Alephan save him, how dumb could he have been? Everything started to make a lot more sense now, the sacrifice with the wolf, Primrose’s comments, the just overall niceness.

“But, I cannot say it is unwelcome.”

Oh, the things I can say about this!

First of, the music that goes along with this scene is most definetly Bo Burnham's "Prolonged Eye Contact". I wanted this entire conversation to be akward because 1. tHEY ARE AKWARD SOMETIMES YOUR HONOR /lh and 2. I was a bit akward myself. I mean, this, fun fact, is the first piece of fiction I wrote that did not have the established relationship tag put on it. I had no damn idea what I was doing, and therefore, I decided to reflect it on the characters involved. What better way than to use the authors akwardness lol. So, due to this, this is more of a comedic scene that goes into something deeper than it is us starting on the deep end directly. It was all because I am just a little akward man your honor!

[intj-greenwords]

Nicholas Rostov’s “get lost” request to Berg put me in mind of Van Helsing’s “get lost” request to Jack Seward.

Exhibit A

“I say, Berg, my dear fellow,” said Rostóv, “when you get a letter from home and meet one of your own people whom you want to talk everything over with, and I happen to be there, I’ll go at once, to be out of your way! Do go somewhere, anywhere... to the devil!” he exclaimed, and immediately seizing him by the shoulder and looking amiably into his face, evidently wishing to soften the rudeness of his words, he added, “Don’t be hurt, my dear fellow; you know I speak from my heart as to an old acquaintance.”

“Oh, don’t mention it, Count! I quite understand,” said Berg, getting up and speaking in a muffled and guttural voice…. and, having assured himself from the way Rostóv looked at it that his coat had been noticed, left the room with a pleasant smile. (War and Peace, Bk1Pt3Ch7)

Exhibit B

But the young ladies! He has no wife nor daughter, and the young do not tell themselves to the young, but to the old, like me, who have known so many sorrows and the causes of them. So, my dear, we will send him away to smoke the cigarette in the garden, whiles you and I have little talk all to ourselves.' I took the hint, and strolled about, and presently the professor came to the window and called me in. (Dracula Daily, September 3)

[omar-rudeberg]

the music of young royals, vols. 1-17

This post highlights is the music of young royals, volumes 1-17, lovingly birthed by @starsabovetheunderground (and shared here with express permission). These are separate close analyses of the young royals soundtrack, encapsulating close character studies, audio aesthetics, lyric interpretations, and how each of the songs are simultaenously informed by and drive forward the narrative within which they occur. Each contains exceptional meta-analysis, delicately nuanced and summarised in a piece of gorgeously evocative prose.

I have listed each post below with a favourite moment lifted from the text (none of the quotes are mine). Share this post if you’re called to, but most importantly, please click through to read and like / reblog / reply to / share the original work!

«« »»

the music of young royals

vol. 1 | bad - farveblind, killason

we are being pulled into the underground and the world of young royals with a mission to escape.

vol. 2 | wannabe ghetto - fata boom

battling the beat is the revving engine of erik's sports car.

vol. 3 | it takes a fool to remain sane - omar rudberg

acknowledging just how difficult this must be for wilhelm ... telling him, in fact, going crazy is the only response that makes sense.

vol. 4 | i see you - nadia tehran

to be a public figure like a royal is to be living in a fishbowl (or, using the metaphor from young royals, a frog prince snow globe) and exposed for viewing at all angles.

vol. 5 | blah blah blah - armin van buuren

once again we’re pulled into the underground, but this time the mission is not to escape. this time the mission is to survive...

vol. 6 | hands up high - adele roberts, jacob blair, gabriella chering, charlie tenku

if simon's voice is the powerful melody that comes through clear over the noise then these lyrics are a sign for wilhelm to keep turning up the dial.

vol. 7 | no tomorrow - ty frankel, stephane lo jacomo, myariah summers

but the songs of the second episode belong to felice ... can be read as an expression of the expectations for felice to get wilhelm’s attention and perhaps one day become a princess.

vol. 8 | alpha - yung titties

there is still an opulent confidence that accompanies the power of money. that money begets cultural capital begets more money.

vol. 9 | come to play -  andrey tatarinov, ty frankel, nathan bodiker

wilhelm must decide if he wants to make a break for it with simon or surrender all hopes of escape resigned to his gilded cage.

vol. 10 | äter upp dig - maxida märak

for what is supposed to be a moment of happy family reunions, there is a lot of unspoken tension just below the surface.

vol. 11 | holes - zhala, deep throat choir

...that state of isolation wilhelm is frozen in. the wind blows through his life, but the breeze echoes off the canyon walls freshly carved by the loss of the solid foundation from erik's presence that was once there.

vol. 12 | remember - omar rudberg

this song has a fascinating dual meaning of being both a memorial and a ballad. the remembrance is for erik, but being written into history is for wilhelm.

vol. 13 | revolution - elias, no. 1

there's the beauty of their love returning to the surface, but it still means setting a fire and feeling the heat as it burns.

vol. 13 | revolution - elias, no. 2

young royals uses beauty and love as a way to enter a revolutionary consciousness, where wilhelm and simon's connection becomes a way to push out of the past and into the future.

vol. 14 | live and die - gina dirawi

all that [wilhelm] has left is worship at the altar of the only god he has found: the love he feels for simon. ((not that I’m picking favourites, but if you’re going to read just one? for goodness sakes let it be this one - Lili x))

vol. 15 | sunday - gina dirawi

wilhelm is being cast down not only for refusing to kneel to the crown, but for kneeling in love before simon. ((...and this one - Lili x))

vol. 16 | impatient - duvchi

the meaning is to be impatient, but the way the song echoes the ending of the word as “patient” doubly communicates the opposite. this patience vs. impatience manifests immediately ... it’s wilhelm's impatience against simon's patience.

vol. 17 | samurai swords (acoustic) - highasakite

this song is the lone one that belongs to august. he wants to inflict as much damage on wilhelm as immediately as he can, even if that means burning the bridge. even if it means burning the palace.

[simplyender]

German person here, I don't mind you trying to create your own German surname but not sure who is your source but "Berg" is mountain in German, and Castle means "Burg". I know I'm just some german rando nitpicking but just wanted to throw that out here.

Also Steigenfall? Actually sounds like a legit name to me. We really have some weird surnames over here. Surnames we as Germans think are weird.

as a jewish person i feel like i have the room to agree: GERMAN SURAMES CAN BE SO WEIRD SOMETIMES

also it wasnt a source problem i just misspelled it hold on ill fix that thank you very much for telling me

[officialleotolstoy]

Tell me more about Vera please

Oh my gosh I’m sorry this is so late, it got lost in my inbox

The thing about Vera, for me, is that her entire family doesn’t like her. The only possible exception is Ilya, but everyone else we see interact with her is cold, dismissive, or straight up hostile. This isn’t to say she’s not rude to them - but in that context, I think her rudeness stems from a sense of superiority that she had to develop because the only other option was believing she was the worst. She had to decide “my whole family is wrong and stupid and I’m better than them” so she wouldn’t believe what they said about her.

Now I’m not absolving her of her naturally mean and snobbish character, that’s definitely there too, but Countess Rostova explicitly states that Vera was raised differently than her siblings, so it’s not like she was treated the same and was just so mean everyone couldn’t help but hate her. We don’t know what that different treatment means, but since she’s the oldest I’m pretty sure it involved a lot of expectations that she clearly didn’t meet (ie being a demure, submissive, humble wife), so she’s looked at as a bit of a failure. I also think it’s telling that when she married Berg, her family was glad to be rid of her, which is kind of awful!

The parts of Vera’s family interactions we get to see in the book are rather antagonistic and mean; she’s clearly not blameless in that relationship. But I do really wonder what made her that way, and her own family’s treatment of her is the number one suspect. Tolstoy probably didn’t think that deeply about it but she’s mine now <3

I don’t have time to ramble about Vera/Berg right now but one day. One day.

[claptraprights]

your name is claptraprights but you barely post claptrap. absolute nonsense, I came here for the cwapylap and you lied to me. give more robot son or else.

Or else 🔫 This is fair; I neglected my poor robo boy ::((

Which is shameful not for me as a Claptrap stan but also for me as a robot stan.  But the thing is – that I dare postulate: Claptrap is one of the best and most complex characters in Borderlands. But people don’t really see it because he’s…apparently cheerful (which he isn’t because he’s just programmed to sound that way by Hyperion)  

Honestly, I feel like they really wrote themselves into a corner with him though because they are so desperate to show us how aware they are of Claptrap being a cartoon-y character that they have to reinforce it at every corner and it undercuts any real storyline or development: It requires for all his endeavours to fail and for all other characters to reject him based on his personality alone – which again, is a stretch, bc he isn’t that annoying (you tell me that the same people who perceive Mr. Togue as a perfectly normal guy think Claptrap is difficult to be around??) and often the reactions to him are out of character. 

Which is sad bc…the truth of the matter is that humans are incredibly unfair to him (and robots in general in the borderlands-universe): Claptrap was created to open doors! Fucking! Doors! That’s…a super-simple task for a dumb little robot to do. And everyone is expecting him to do all kinds of things that he isn’t programmed for. It’s like asking a toaster to be a rocket-scientist. And he still does his best to help them at every corner no matter how badly they treat him because they are his only friends and the only people outside Hyperion he knew (except for Captain Flynt who ended up torturing). For example, first time we arrive in Liar’s Berg, Hammerlock electrocutes Claptrap to avoid talking to him – and a few seconds later Claptrap makes a kinda rude comment about Hammerlock - who has the nerve to act like he’s the one who got wronged: “I am right here, ‘dude’” – My man, you don’t really have the moral high-ground here. Claptrap is one of the few characters who don’t kill you for so much as looking at him the wrong way and people should really learn to appreciate it. (Dare I say? Anti-robotic sentiment)

Plus, here’s the reminder that Claptrap thought of Jack as his parental figure and not only was he manipulated, re-programmed, abused (sounds familiar?) – Jack actually ended up committing robo-cide against his entire product-line to the point that when we meet Claptrap at the Southern Shelf, he has dead Claptraps propped up in his living space playing cards to feel like he has company of his own kind - because even the humans who are not affiliated with Jack treat him like garbage. One of the central motivations of Claptrap is to fight back against his loneliness and being the only one of his kind and he’s surrounded by computer-geniuses and engineers that he did so much for – can it be that hard to clone or re-discover the Claptrap code and make a new one??  

It’s honestly why I feel like Claptastic Voyage is one of the best DLCs because it really did some deep digging on Claptrap’s personality:

Claptrap's Consciousness: Ohhh! I almost remembered the thing I need to tell you about 5H4D0W-TP!

Athena (if present): Dammit! What KIND of thing? Wilhelm (if present): Like what? C'mon, rust bucket! Nisha (if present): Would a few bullets jog that janky memory? Claptrap (if present): Is this what it's like talking to ME? Timothy (if present): Oh that sounds super interesting, why don't you get back to me when... oh you know what? In fact, don't. Don't ever get back to me! Aurelia (if present): Well then, perhaps consider saying nothing at all.

Claptrap's Consciousness: No, I've definitely forgotten. Oh! ...No, it's gone again.

Athena (if present): CLAPTRAP! Wilhelm (if present): SHUT UP! Nisha (if present): SHUT THE HELL UP! Claptrap (if present): WILL YOU SHUT UP! Timothy (if present): SHUT UP! Aurelia (if present): WILL YOU PLEASE DESIST?!

Claptrap's Consciousness: WHY are you ALWAYS so mean to me? EVERYONE is ALWAYS SO MEAN! All I've ever done is try to help! I know I mess up, and I'm 10 to the power of 100 of SORRY about it -- but if you can't see that, and can't take my good intentions for what they are, then maybe you don't deserve anything good to ever happen to you! In fact, I'M OUTTA HERE! Ah. I can't leave -- I live here. But I CAN leave you!

Athena (if present): Claptrap... I'm sorry. Wilhelm (if present): That got weird. Nisha (if present): Whatevs. Claptrap (if present): Was that his fault or mine? This place is so confusing. Timothy (if present): Am I supposed to break character now? I'm so confused. Aurelia (if present): I'm mortified. Sorry.

to make up for my debt to my poor kid, here are some Claptrap headcanons:

-          In a way, he’s stuck in the same vicious circle that many children are in school who have a reputation as ‘bad students’ or ‘troublemakers’: He is so convinced that he cannot do right and will never be appreciated that he doesn’t really try anymore. Because if he tries his best and fails, it always hurts worse when other people mock or insult him than if he didn’t. It’s a kind of learnt helplessness.

-          Nevertheless, he tries to learn new things to disappoint his friends less…but he’s just not good at it and he feels like if they know he’s trying and failing, it would be worse for him than if they thought that he just doesn’t care so…

-          Joke’s on Tannis: Claptrap is still keeping his Kevins. Fl4k knew which planet they’re from and told Claptrap and now Clappy can fast-travel there and spend time with them. He’s still grieving for the original Kevin though.

-          He’s still friends with Ava. At this point she knows that most of the stuff she thought she knew about him before she came to Sanctuary is actually kinda made up and embellished. But he’s a good friend and doesn’t for a moment blame her for Maya’s death. Plus, unlike the others she doesn’t really have any experience with Claptraps at all and just likes being around someone who is hurting but still knows how to see things in a positive way and is really excited about spending time with her without making rules or anything. And he’s a great source for Vault Hunter stories!

-          This isn’t really a headcanon bc it’s at least implied - but Shadowtrap is still alive somewhere in him  (in Voyage, he seems to be the reason Claptrap survived Jack destroying the Claptraps) and every time someone mistreats Claptrap, he’s getting a little bit stronger.

-          Angel actually looked out for him in her own way. She likes him and she relates to him, in a way. In the first Borderlands, she describes him as a ‘cute little robot’ and The Pre-Sequel, when Jack is about to scrap his entire plan to reprogram Claptrap (which likely would have meant destroying Claptrap who already thought of Jack as his parent), she’s canonically the one who conceives a plan how he could still work as a Vault Hunters and I chose to interpret this as: She could relate to his situation and didn’t want him to die so she made this whole Vault Hunter.exe thing work somehow. She might even be the reason Shadowtrap could help Claptrap survive the H-Source despite being Hyperion-code himself.

-           Athena actually had plans to take him with her once she left after the events of Claptastic Voyage but obviously, it was too late then and she didn’t see him when she was brought to Sanctuary so she still doesn’t know he’s alive.

[phoebelovingcare]

Ms Zan Partizanne for the ask meme?

OH BOY!

Favorite thing about them:

Zan as a character is SO SO INTERESTING. Emotional and logical, fast and strong, loyal and mean as hell, she defies a lot of common tropes and I adore her for it. She’s got a fun quirk in her name preferences, along with that hypocrisy of calling OTHER people rude nicknames at any given opportunity. Can dish it out, but can’t take it. She’s maternal and clearly a leader, yet also immature and a follower, co-dependent and with a life debt she intends to pay out in full no matter the stakes. Her personality is just an absolute blast, and I adore writing her and can’t wait to do it more!

Least favorite thing about them:

Nothing Zan Partizanne is perfect don’t @ me /j

Favorite line:

“But before that... you stubby little pink ball... OH! KIRBY OF THE STARS!”

technically not how it goes in english but thaT LINE FUCKS IN JAPANESE WITH KIRBY’S FULL TITLE LIKE THAT HOOOO BOY. REJECT LOCALIZATION, EMBRACE BADASS DIALOGUE

brOTP:

Meta Knight! The two are very similar when you think about it! They have the same kind of conflicting maturity level, commander status, and uncomfy quirk thing (meta’s mask and sweet tooth + zan’s nicknames) that makes me think they would get along really well :D

OTP:

SUZAN. ZANSUSIE, WHATEVER YOU WANNA CALL IT. My-dad-doesn’t-know-who-i-am solidarity! It works incredibly well and I’m amazed it’s not a more common ship, though I do see it around more often than I used to. Hm. Wonder if I did that.

nOTP:

I could get serious here. I won’t!

Random headcanon:

Zan is incredibly serious and strict, no there is absolutely NO time for fun we are on a Very Serious Mission, there is absolutely no time for games japologa did you just offer to race me down the stairs do you have ANY idea how fast i am ohohohoho eat my DUST wavyblade, Zan Partizanne 1 Berge 0, queen of racing all hail

Zan really likes that she’s fast. She go zip-zip for fun :3

Unpopular opinion:

.............you guys are getting popular opinions?? (jk jk uhh ive never seen a really bad zan take before besides.... I could get serious here. I won’t! So I guess not)

Song I associate with them:

I have a playlist. There are Many. Please note the content warning here, I didn’t touch on Zan’s backstory but by god She Has One, some of these songs might touch on that: It Gets Better by AlicebanD, Remember My Name by mitski, Kodoku no Syukyo (The Religion of Loneliness) by syudou, Nevermind by Foster The People, and many, many more

Favorite picture of them:

sunhat,,

[princecupcakee]

Park Bench | Reddie

Read on AO3

Rating: E

Pairing: Richie Tozier/Eddie Kaspbrak

Word Count: 3,320

Chapter: 3/8

Past Chapters: Chapter 1 (AO3), Chapter 2 (AO3)

Next Chapters: Chapter 4 (AO3)

Summary: Recently divorced and ‘incapable of love’, Eddie Kaspbrak moves to Los Angeles for work and a small, small hope of a fresh start. Broken up and never dated again, Richie Tozier tries to get back into love with help from his love of music. Quickly meeting eyes and one concert later, they think that maybe love isn’t that bad. So they try it one more time.

Chapter 3: Richie Tozier At The Movies, Eddie Kaspbrak With His Thoughts & Richie Tozier With His Guitar

Tags/Warnings: Angst / Unhappy Ending / theres only one sex scene but this is explicit anyway / Bisexual Richie Tozier / Gay Eddie Kaspbrak / Post-Divorce / Implied/Referenced Cheating / Inspired By Remembering Sunday (All Time Low) / Inspired by The Book Ninja by Ali Berg / Implied/Referenced Child Abuse / Implied/Referenced Abuse / Implied/Referenced Manipulation

Tag-list: @richietoaster​ , @s-s-georgie​ , @mikeuris​ , @gazebobullshit​ , @that-weird-girls-blog​ , @tozierking​ , @thoughtfullyyoungduck​ , @s-onora​ , @bellarosewrites​ , @lermanslogan​ , @ambitiousskychild​ , @ghostnebula​ , @vanillaredvelvet​ ,

(Ask if you wanna be on the tag-list!!)

Chapter 3

Richie Tozier At The Movies

After bringing Eddie home that morning he set out for his next vinyl-date (the name was a work in progress) before going to his sister’s house. He tried to have his head in it, he did, but all throughout the car ride, he couldn’t think straight. He wondered how Eddie was, what he was doing on his day off. He couldn't think of anything even when he had already gotten there. He needed to focus, he wanted to, but he couldn’t stop his head from floating into the clouds.

So when he walked into the movie theatre, he knew he should’ve just stayed home. Alex looked amazing and Richie knew that, but that didn’t really help. They’d picked a new action movie that was heard to have a song from the record in its soundtrack. By that time, he had dropped over 30 records on the local subway, have gotten multiple emails from music lovers like himself, and gone on quite a few dates already. A few memorable ones were Will, a man from Hawkins getting over a lost love, had talked a little too much about said lost love. The two decided to stay as friends. After that was a date with Theo, a New Yorker in search of a painting and person. Similar to Will, in search of his lost love, they’ve decided to stay friends as well. Now, Alex, a writer from New York City who moved to LA two years ago in search of new love, had messaged him after he dropped, ‘Appetite For Destruction.’

“Hi! Richie, yeah?” Alex smiled at him, holding a bowl of popcorn and two drinks. Richie nodded as politely as he could as he thought, ‘why doesn’t Eddie have the same accent?’ “Cool,” Alex hummed, “lets go?” “Sure.”

Richie was glad they went to the movies. It was dark and loud, and your excuse to not pay attention to your date is staring intensely at the screen to look like your focused on it. So, for ninety long minutes, he plotted about the easiest ways to get out of this date. ‘I have a dentist’s appointment’ sounded a bit too rude and overdone to him, ‘I have to take care of my niece and nephew’ was true, but sounded pretty useless. From the 90 minutes, he was able to think up nothing. 

“That was a nice movie,” Alex began, smiling at Richie. “Yeah, it really was,” Richie smiled, “but, uh, see, I gotta run." “sure,” Alex waved, slightly annoyed. Richie turned around didn’t look back.

Richie sat in the backseat of his car, staring at its ceiling. He started this to find love, to move on from what happened with Connor, and breathe. But now its seems like a waste of time to him. He can’t even focus on a date without just leaving to sit around in his car. And for what reason? He didn’t even know. He’s getting all of the chances that he didn't get but he’s just throwing them away. He’s just leaving and wasting. Maybe he just doesn’t get that chance. Maybe he just shouldn’t.

He checks his phone for the time and squishes to the front of the car. He didn’t need the stereo, he needs something going for him, no matter how deafening. Drumming a steady beat on to the steering wheel, “Robert’s got a quick hand.” Finishing the first verse, he turns his keys and drives out of the space. “All the other kids with the pumped up kicks,” he swayed his head side to side slightly driving over to Annie’s house.

Eddie Kaspbrak With His Thoughts

Eddie laid down on his bed checking the large, fancy clock hanging above his head, 2:30 PM. After the magnificent sunrise he witnessed with one, handsome, charming, funny, surprisingly smart Richie Tozier, he went home. Richie winked and said ‘wait’ after he brought Eddie back, and of course, that sent the shorter of the two in a bit of a craze.

He’d never felt this. Honestly, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to. It was strong and wouldn’t let him breathe and made his heart explode. When he laughed, when he sang, when he smiled, Eddie couldn’t keep his mind off Richie. It wasn’t like this with Myra. How could it have been? She was there, to keep him alive, not let him live. ~ “Eddie-bear, have you taken your pills yet? You know, you’re mother called me last week, reminding me that you have a seafood allergy, why did you never tell me about that? I’m your wife, Eddie. I’m supposed to know these things about you! What if you ate something that made you sick? I wouldn’t be able to live with myself, Eddie! Do you want that? Do you want me to be in pain?” ~ But with Richie everything seemed, brighter. He never said anything Myra did, he never forced Eddie to do something he never wanted to do, he never put words into Eddie’s mouth. ‘It’s clearly too early though, I mean four days? Can you fall in love in four days?’ Eddie dropped his urge to Google that, not wanting to get up (or be disappointed if no, you couldn’t fall in love in four days.) He was never strong. Physically, emotionally, he had always lost. He was never brave. He was the one that sat on the sidelines, afraid to see what’ll happen. Afraid to listen to what he wants. Was that because of his mother, or Myra, or him? He never really wanted to find out.

Sonia was controlling, she watched Eddie’s every move, didn’t let him do anything. Sonia introduced the two, and Eddie thought he had to fall in love. When Eddie married Myra, he thought that maybe he would be slightly freer. He was very visibly wrong. She wasn’t any different from his mother. After 15 years of being married, he realized hoe abusive his mother was, how he didn’t want that marriage anymore, and how more appealing men are to women. He told Myra the night he filed their divorce, all she did was leave the room. She left the room to call his mother. ~ “Don’t you just love her, Eddie? She’s smart, she’s kind, she’s responsible, and she knows how to take care of you! You were such a mischievous child back then, when you played with that stuttering friend of yours, he was such a bad influence on you. Isn’t he… queer? I can’t even say the word. Disgusting. You shouldn’t have been friends with him, Eddie. Are you still friends with him? You must get him out of your life immediately, Eddie! I don’t want my Eddie-bear being like him.” ~ But what if he was in love? What if he was in love with a man? A man he’d only known for four days? Eddie sighed, fighting back tears. He didn’t need this. He shouldn’t be doing this.

He walked out of his room, feeling as if he can’t breathe there. But this is Los Angeles. This isn’t home. He walked down the long hallways heading down the stairs back to the library. Why had he come here? He didn’t know either or, he did, just didn’t want to say it. Eddie took a vinyl from the bottom of the shelf, ‘Never Trust A Happy Song’ in a small font above ‘Grouplove.’ He didn’t know any songs on it, but he figured anything would be better than being trapped in silence with his own memories.

He tried to mimic Richie’s moves from before, failing quite a few times. He winced at the loud sound of what seemed to be the end of a song. ‘Take me to your best friend's house, roll around this roundabout, oh yeah,’ played in the- Eddie really needed to Google what that thing was, ‘can you fall in love in four days?’ Rang in his head once again, forcing him to put his phone down and take a seat in the large chair before him.

He wondered what Richie was doing, why’d he had asked him to ‘wait’ and then leave. He wondered if maybe Richie had fallen in love before. If maybe Richie felt how he did. He wasn’t supposed to, that was sure, but he wanted to. He wanted to know the feeling of loving and being loved, maybe he had, maybe Myra was the feeling of loving and being loved. Or maybe it was Richie. Eddie wouldn’t know. He had hoped it would be Richie though. That made him smile, nothing like what he had gone through with Myra.

But it was also his fault. It may have done him good but it was still wrong. He may have needed it but that still wasn’t acceptable. He did do it. He wasn’t being responsible, he wasn’t being right. He did owe Myra something for what he did. He could’ve done it simpler, and not ruin his marriage in the most unnecessary way there was. He had to go to that bar, that night. ‘Somethings are too good to pass’ he tried to make a good excuse, but he knew it wouldn’t have worked. He was right.

But he didn’t owe Myra his life or his heart, he owed her an apology, a divorce, and something that would have been better for both of them. And what was better for both of them was leaving. It wasn’t exactly leaving New York, it was just leaving, no longer in each other’s lives and forget. Forgetting has always been much easier than actually facing your problems. Forgetting left things there, not having to see them anymore and not thinking. Forgetting meant, even for a little while, nothing can be any worse.

‘Don’t take me tongue tied, don’t wave no goodbye,’ He’d never heard this song before, but something about it made him feel like he did. Maybe, if he tried hard enough, something about it would make him feel like he knew himself, too.

Richie Tozier With His Guitar

He rang the doorbell, running to the side of the porch to not be seen. He crouched below the window and as if on cue, a little girl pushed the curtains away and looked out the window. “I know thats, you Richie!” A little girl said, opening her front door. “Aw, how’d you know that Maddie?” He said, ruffling her hair. “Mommy said you were coming,” she said putting her hands on her hips. “Just you and Walter today?” “Yup!” “Alright, go get your brother, I’ll be in the living room. Your mom’s gonna be calling any second now,” he said as he watched Maddison walk up the stairs and call her brother.

Richie walked into the living room and plopped down on the couch, moving the guitar from his back to the floor. Just as he predicted, his sister rang the phone, “I’m already here Annie. They’re getting their guitars, we’re playing stuff today.” “Thanks, Rich. I owe you,” she sighed gratefully over the phone. “No problem. I missed these goblins anyway.” “Okay, thank you so much, I have to go. Mom’s gonna be there soon. Oh and tell Walter to help Maddie with her painting, she gets really unhappy when he doesn’t and-“ “I know this already, go.” “Thank you, Richie.” “Your my sister, its my job,” Richie laughed and put the phone down.

“We’re here!” Maddison smiled, brother in tow. “Hi uncle Richie,” Walter said softly, sitting by Richie’s feet with knees against his chest.

He was two years older than Maddison, the same age gap him and Annica had. Maddie was five while Walter was seven. The two were fairly opposite, Walter preferring to keep to himself while Maddie was outgoing and social. Outside of her sister, he raised them. Annie was a good mother, but being a single one, she didn’t have it any easy either. Her husband died less than three years ago from an accident. Thats why he came over more and took care of her kids more. It didn’t help that the whole problem with Connor rose in the time of this and him having a responsibility to not fuck up kids left him out of it for a while. Until he was just angry, he never took it out on anyone, that he made sure of, but he was just angry at love. Maddie and Walter were a help though, it made him forget. Forgetting is much easier than confronting, its like painting over graffiti like it was never there.

“What are we playing today?” Maddie asked, leaning her head to the side exaggeratedly. “What’s a song you guys want?” Richie asked looking back and forth between the two. Walter stood up, walking to the small shelf that sat by the TV. He walked back with a cassette tape in hand. A paper was stuck on to the tape, and in small letters and font, ‘Tongue Tied - Grouplove’ written on it. Richie smiled kindly at him, “How do you know this song?” He simply shrugged and urged him to take the tape. “Lets play it then,” Richie nodded while picking up his guitar. Walter held breath to say something, Richie having to give him permission before he did. “I already know the beginning. C-could you teach me the middle?” “Which part?” “After the second chorus.” “Sure. Anyone wanna sing?” “Can I sing with you? Like, you're gonna sing and I’m gonna sing too, both of us sing!” Maddie said excitedly with big hand gestures (Richie wondered if part of that was his doing. He assumed that it probably was.) Richie nodded, “one two three four,” G. “Don’t take me tongue tied,” G. Then, C. “let’s stay up all night,” He sang with Maddie. “I'll get real high.” Richie sang as Maddie shook her head. Despite Richie’s smile, a dark room, broken glass, smoke, tears, screaming, flood his head. ‘Fuck! Can’t I do anything right?’ He cried that night. “Slumber party, pillow fight,” The two sung in harmony again, “My eyes and your eyes, Like Peter Pan up in the sky,” Maddie sang bringing her hand up above her head to mimic Peter Pan flying. Walter and Richie laughed. “My best friend's house tonight,” Richie sang. ‘Stan? You there? Look, I-I need a place to stay. I’ll tell you about it when I’m there. Yeah… yeah, Th-thanks.’ “Let's bump the beats till beddy-bye,” Richie smiled, despite fighting back tears. ‘Connor. Connor. Connor.’ He thought. “Don’t take me tongue tied,” Richie sang. ‘Eddie. Eddie. Eddie.’ He thought, the tears behind his eyes, drying away, “Don't wave no goodbye.”

By the time they had sung three songs, Maggie and Wentworth were already at the door. He said his goodbyes and walked back to his car. Hearing the first song back again in his head, his breathing sped. He threw his head back and whispered to himself, “Breathe, Richie. breathe.” He thought about how uncomfortable and disgusted Connor looked when he got down on one knee. He remembered how Connor screamed at him, how Connor mocked him for thinking that he actually loved Richie the way Richie did for him. ‘Please.’ ~ “What? What the fuck?” Richie thought he was just surprised. “Dude, gross. I wouldn’t marry a man. That’s fucking gross. Look, man. I have a girlfriend, we aren’t fucking together. Thats so fucking weird.” “but I- I thought-“ “Thought what? That we were together? Fucking gross. Get out.” ~ Richie turned on his stereo. Anything is better than this. He didn’t need to cry, he didn’t need to listen to whatever the fuck was going on in his head. He doesn’t need to stay, he can leave.’ Please, don't let me down,’ the radio played loudly. Richie thought it was weird, songs like these weren’t on the radio, but he sang along anyway. “Please, don't let me down, You better come around,” he softly sang against the loud radio. He never liked his voice much. He used it for comedy, for words he didn’t want to say. He didn’t know how to describe it, but he felt as if he just shouldn’t sing, he sounded better doing impressions anyway. Although some people like it, like Walter and Maddie, he wondered if Eddie liked it too. “You save yourself, I'll save myself each time around,” he sang louder, trying to catch what his voice sounded like. ~ “Stan? You there? Look, I-I need a place to stay. I’ll tell you about it when I’m there.” “You can always stay here Richie. Don’t worry,” Stan sounded like he already knew. Richie guessed everybody saw it coming. “Yeah… yeah, Th-thanks.’ Richie tried not to break into tears. ~ He was going to go drive to Eddie. He was horrified, but he was gonna go to Eddie. As much as he would hate to admit it, he needed him. Needing Eddie to love him, thats debatable but needing for Eddie to be around him, he knew he really did need it. He hoped maybe Eddie needed him too. “You save yourself, I'll save you too next time around,” he sang. When Eddie smiled up at him he didn’t know if he could breathe. It was never like this with Connor. With Connor he always wondered who the woman that left their apartment was, with Connor, he always got shouted at and argued with. With Eddie, he smiled, his heart raced, his stomach churned and it was never like it was with Connor. “I'm not around, I haven't been here for a while,” he sang, the electric feeling coursing through his veins.

“You know I'll never be back now,” He shouldn’t break his own heart. Connor’s gone. He’s not coming back, and Richie’s thankful for that. With Connor gone, maybe someone else will stay. Maybe Eddie will. Richie smiled at the thought of it.

He ignored the nagging feeling of possibly not being loved back— again.

[honestandsincere]

reputation part five

"Of all places for a clandestine meeting, you've outdone yourself, y/l/n."

He speaks in hushed tones, the rasp of his voice barely hovering above a whisper. They're alone, save for the man sat behind a seemingly oversized wooden desk, typing softly on his computer. The air feels cold; the high ceiling looming overhead and the rounded curves of the timber framing leave no room for warmth. Books are packed tightly into glass cases, saved from the damaging effects of exposure and time, and yet the room smells like dog-eared pages and temperate paper.

"I figured we wouldn't be seen," she shrugs, gazing intently at the brass bust of Shakespeare, her fingers itching to run themselves over the intricate carving of his ruffled collar. "Sadly, the gossip forums don't think I'm a reader," Ethan hums, turning to acknowledge the bard. "Yes, that is sad."

He hasn't seen her in almost three weeks, not that he's been counting. It was as if she'd vanished off the surface of the earth the night she had left his apartment in Tribeca. After they had kissed. He knew better than to try and contact her afterwards, he tried to ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach as he came to realise that maybe they would never cross paths again. Y/n had said that she would not let Howard Benson publish her first draft, the article that should have been printed if Ethan Dolan had not read it before it hit newsstands across the city. Y/n y/l/n is a determined woman. Consequently, the ties between them had been cut as quickly as they had been knotted. As their lips left one another's she'd uttered something along the lines of an apology and hurried to the elevator, avoiding his eyes as the metal doors slid closed.

Ethan had received a text message from her this morning, as her name flashed across the screen of his phone his pulse had picked up its pace and his palms became damp. Y/n wanted to meet him in the library, in room 302 of the Stephen A. Schwarzman Building which he later found out was housing the Berg Collection of English and American Literature. He wants to laugh at how fitting their meeting place is, how well she'd thought this all out, but he's occupied with the sheer wonder of being in her presence again.

"Do you know the collection holds the works and manuscripts of 400 authors?" she asks him, not taking her eyes from William's receded hairline. "That's a lot of paper," Ethan says. "Or parchment." "Yes, or vellum." Y/n turns to the corner of the room and points towards a small mahogany table and chair set, papers sprawling over the desk's surface, "That was Dickens'." "Doesn't look too comfortable, does it?" Ethan's eyes scan the thin lining of cushion across the seat. "No, not particularly," she folds her arms and for the first time since he's entered the room, turns to look at him.

Y/n does not know what she was expecting him to look like. Three weeks is not long enough for somebody to change dramatically - unless perhaps they decide to shave off all their hair or tattoo their face in honour of their mother. Ethan Dolan is drastic, but not that drastic. He looks young, in the yellow-toned light of room 302, clean-shaven and as chiselled as ever. His cheekbones are still broad, his jaw still prominent and his brow is pulled into its usual half-furrow. She notes that he's wearing a sweatshirt, Havard University's crest printed on its front. He looks like a student himself. As frustratingly impossible it is to admit, Ethan Dolan is still inexplicably gorgeous.

"I haven't seen you in a while, y/l/n," he says softly. Ethan takes his time to appreciate y/n's familiar lack of change. She's as captivating as ever and it's painful. "I know." "Do you want to maybe sit down? So we can talk?" he gestures to the table set up presumably for researchers to delve into the precious novels and albums of notes, with gloved hands of course. She nods. They lower themselves into chairs opposite one another, she looks at him and smiles ruefully.

"I'm sorry for not contacting you sooner," Y/n says. "Honestly, it's no problem. If anything I should apologise for making things awkward," his hands rest on the soft velvet covering the table, y/n glances quickly at the Cartier signet ring adorning his right index finger. "It takes two to tango," she chuckles lightly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, "I shouldn't have stormed off like that." Ethan shifts in his seat and leans closer towards her, "Listen, y/n, if you didn't want to kiss me that's totally fine. I shouldn't have just come onto you that way, it was really rude and considering the circumstances I-"

Y/n shakes her head, setting loose the wayward wave she'd tried hard to keep from her face. Her eyes are set on his whisky-coloured irises, she sees nothing but integrity which three weeks ago had become familiar. "It's not that I didn't want you to kiss me," she interjects. "Oh." "In fact, I think you went about it rather well. It was just crap timing." "Yeah, I guess."

They sit in silence for a while, trying not to look at each other. Ethan busies himself with twisting his ring slowly around his finger, his mouth opening every now and then to speak before being stopped by his inability to think of the right thing to say. Y/n turns around to look at the librarian, typing away blissfully ignorant to the tension surrounding the other occupants of the room. She clears her throat quietly, "I left because I don't want Benson to publish draft one." He looks up at her, his eyes wide and reminiscent of a disgustingly adorable puppy or a child that's been denied an extra slice of cake at a birthday party. "Ethan, if you and I were to continue our friendship; whether it be staged or genuine, Howard will try and step in. He claims it's for my benefit, for my career, but I know that it's only for the sake of LIFE's reputation." "It sucks," he says. "I know, but it's not as though we were ever going to be more than friends or acquaintances-" "No, y/n," he interrupts her, looking down at his folded hands and shaking his head, "it sucks that you let Howard Benson dictate who you can and cannot be seen with."

Y/n's brows knit together into a disconcerted frown, "I'm not letting Howard Benson do anything." "You are. He's your boss, I get it. He is not in the position to manage your personal life, friendships included." She huffs and pushes forward in her seat, "Do you not understand why I'm doing this? It's for the sake of your image, Ethan! For your sacred reputation, I'm saving your skin here." "And I appreciate that, really I do. It's just that Benson can't print the article without my permission."

Suddenly they're both aware of how their voices have raised slightly above hushed murmurs, y/n looks over her shoulder to find the man at the desk completely unfazed. She breathes a sigh of relief and exasperation. "He will do," she whispers, "if it means keeping the magazine's sponsors." "I can't believe you - of all people - are just acquiescing to these trivial little mind games!" he hisses. Y/n laughs, but it holds no humour, "Screw you, Ethan Dolan. You just don't like being told what to do." "Don't turn on me, y/n," he warns her, a look of businessman severity crossing his beautifully angeled face. "Watch me," she slides her chair from under the table, its wooden legs inducing a hideous screech as they drag along the floor of room 302. The man at the desk looks up and sends her a frown to which she apologises sheepishly and leaves the room.

Ethan can't help but feel a horrible sense of deja vu.

-----------

Grayson Dolan's feet are rested on the desk in front of him, his leather brogues crossed casually over one another. In his right fist is a stress ball his mother had bought him a few Christmases ago and in his left hand is a mug of coffee Carol had handed to him. He gives her a quick nod of thanks before turning to his brother. Sat on the opposite side of their private office, Ethan Dolan wears a scowl as prominent as the Rockefeller Center on New York's skyline. His shirt sleeves are rolled up to the elbow, his blazer having been discarded hours ago, his hair is dishevelled and he runs his hand through it for the fifth time in a solid minute.

"You're being ridiculous, Ethan." "No, I'm not." "You are," Grayson sips his drink before excusing Carol from the room. "I am not! If anything she's the one being ridiculous." "Who? The cat's mother?" "Shut up."

Grayson Dolan had made the awful mistake of asking his brother why he hadn't been spending time with his fake girlfriend recently. As much as he refuses to admit it, Grayson has missed seeing his brother in the papers or on gossip sites, smiling wildly with y/n y/l/n by his side. Ethan has been nothing but fractious over the past month, refusing to attend meetings and barely showing his face at Dolan & Dolan HQ in Manhattan. There's a permanent frown etched on his pale face, his brows constantly drawn inward and his lips chapped from the constant worrying of his teeth.

"Y/n is literally saving your ass." "I am aware." "So why are you being such a whiny bitch?" Grayson sets his mug down in front of him and begins squeezing the foam ball in his hand, he finds it amusing that perhaps his brother is in more need of it than he is. "Because she's letting Howard Benson walk all over her!" Ethan slams a fist on the table, only to jump slightly at the way his computer shakes violently in the aftershock. "What do you want, E? You want that article out there for the world to see?" "No, of course not-" "Well, shut up then."

Ethan knows his brother is right, he has no reason to sulk. If anything he should be jumping for joy, finally after months of constant apprehension the first draft will be destroyed. He just can't ever see y/n y/l/n again. Now, in theory, this should be straightforward. Y/n and Ethan have never really seen eye to eye; they live in different worlds, in different social spheres and both have completely different ambitions. Their conflict was inevitable, their friendship was unforeseeable and their current circumstances are beyond aggravating. Ethan Dolan does not want to be friends with y/n y/l/n, part of him thinks maybe it's through Howard Benson telling them they cannot associate with one another that makes him want to see her again.

He doesn't want to be her friend, but he cannot help it.

"So I've spoken to McTavish and Abernathy about selling the plots in Brooklyn," Grayson breaks the silence he'd created, his tone lighthearted. He picks up his feet from the desk and begins to type furiously on his keyboard, eyes flicking from side to side as he reads spreadsheets on the screen before him. "Really?" "Of course, I've really thought about what you said, E. We should try different tactics if we want to make a difference in business," the younger Dolan brother chooses his words tentatively. Tactics. "I couldn't agree more."

Ethan Dolan finds thinking about business rather sickening at this point in time. It had always been the focal point of his life; he started kindergarten determined to end up in the city, took extra classes in high school that would set his college resume apart from the rest, worked his ass off to get into Harvard and then played every trick in the book in order to end up where he is now. And suddenly he doesn't want to be here. All those economics lectures, every internship he could get his hands on and every late-night spent researching every loophole in the system mean nothing. It would be naive to say it's because of y/n, romantic even, but this isn't a rom-com. This is real and shitty and a situation so sticky it reminds him of the time he spilt a jar of molasses over his childhood self in his grandmother's kitchen.

Is he changing for the girl? Is the girl really changing him?

"You've gone soft," it's as though Grayson can read his mind, or maybe he's just been observing Ethan's face. "Have I?" Ethan stands from his swivel chair and walks towards the large window that overlooks Manhattan. He's done this countless times before, to think. To look over the relentless pace of the city and realise that every tiny ant-sized figure hurrying through the street below him will never cross paths with him. Lives don't intersect easily, no matter how small the world.

"You have. Ethan, when have you ever let someone or something stand in the way of what you want?" he doesn't turn to acknowledge his brother, but Ethan hangs on each of his words. He tries to think of when he has ever let something stop him, which is hard because it rarely ever happens. Ethan Dolan is a force of nature, inside and outside the boardroom. "Never. The answer is never. Howard Benson is threatening to publish y/n's draft, but when has he ever followed through on one of his intimidations? Again, the answer is never," Grayson pauses and Ethan takes his time to count how many taxi cabs make their way through the hoards of traffic. Fifteen. "Just do what you've always done, stop playing by stupid rules. Go do what you like, he can't stop you." "It's different this time," Ethan rasps, his voice weak from disuse.

It is different, very different. Ethan is not accustomed to being vulnerable, in his personal and in his work life. He's always had the upper hand. It is different this time because he's taking a risk. A big risk. Y/n y/l/n is his friend, despite the odds and their circumstances. She set out to ruin his life, whether it was intentional or not - she claims now that it was in journalistic pursuits and he calms himself by believing her. Ethan Dolan kissed y/n y/l/n and she kissed him back, taking their relationship from enemies to something verging on friendship to something that teeters precariously on the tightrope of awkward friendship that is more than a friendship. Does he want to pursue this? Does he want to drop everything and get to know her? Does he believe that Howard Benson really will print the slandering first draft? Ethan isn't sure and this is a foreign feeling.

"Jesus, you really have changed."

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

There's nothing more terrifying than the unknown.

The concept of not knowing leaves leeway for imaginations and anxieties to run riot, conjuring hypothetical situations in which nothing is ever in one's favour. Of course, you're also setting yourself up for disappointment in the realm of the unknown; if one devises a theoretical scenario that is bitterly different to reality - that hurts.

Ethan Dolan is terrified of the unknown.

His fist clenches around the bouquet in his hand. He's starting to regret buying them, but Grayson had insisted that they were a nice touch. Ethan could do with some nice touches. Being uneasy outside her front door is not a new sensation, he's been nervous before. But Ethan has never felt scared and this is scary. He does not know what y/n might be feeling, he's not certain that she even wants to see him ever since their mild altercation in the NYPL.

Before he has time to process his apprehensions, the door swings open.

Y/n stands before him in some jeans and a white t-shirt, her hair thrown up loosely into a knot. She doesn't look surprised, but not calm either. Ethan wishes he'd been blessed by the gods of telepathy.

"Hi," he says, wanting some kind of response from her. "Hey." Ethan thrusts the flowers awkwardly towards her, desperate for a topic of conversation, "These are for you," he says unnecessarily. "Thank you, Ethan. They're lovely."

Y/n's fingers brush his as she reaches for the bouquet, taking it in her hand and tucking them gently under her arm. Ethan is sure there's some unidentifiable crackle of electricity that passes between them, his hand is left tingling in the wake of her touch. It sounds bizarre but now he knows what the romantics mean by 'sparks flying'. "I uh," he stumbles over his words, his eyebrows rising in confusion at his own lack of eloquence, "I just wanted to apologise for what I said in the Library last week. It was unfair." She purses her lips, cocking her head to one side in a way that makes her look as though she's studying him, "Apology accepted."

Y/n makes no room for him to walk into her apartment, despite their meagre resolution. The orange lilies feel heavy all of a sudden, their scent dizzying as she inhales. There's a large part of her that wants to let him in, make him a cup of tea because she knows he avoids coffee after five in the evening and ask him about his day. Things are different now, circumstances have changes and tension hangs in the air like a thick black cloud of smog. Ethan stands before her, his arms held tightly behind his back, perhaps to refrain from touching her. He's in his white button-down shirt and navy dress pants meaning he's probably not long left the office or maybe is intending on going in to work late. The scene is well-known, she's used to seeing him like this, and yet it all feels so unnerving.

"It's not your job to please Benson and me simultaneously. I know that and I shouldn't have accused you of trying to appease him when you're doing it for my sake." "Thank you," she nods. "But y/n, whether or not Benson prints the article is not in your hands. I don't think we should let him get in the way of this," he gestures to the space between them, "whatever it may be, surely we should give it a chance?" Y/n quirks an eyebrow, readjusting the flowers in her grip, "Our friendship?" "Well, uh, yeah. Yeah, I guess."

His mind flashes to their kiss. Feeling her lips pressed against his, the way she had sighed in contentment, the way he felt alive. The surge of electricity that pulsed through his veins when the childhood sense of excitement and nervousness overwhelmed his sense of judgement. Their friendship. Y/n presses her eyes closed, exhaling through her nose defeatedly, "It is a shame, Ethan. I'd be lying if I said I don't want to carry on seeing you-" "Don't do this to yourself, don't let work get in the way of your feelings." "Feelings?" "You know what I mean, y/n."

She does. She knows exactly what he means and she deeply resents him for it. These burgeoning feelings she has, tempests of undiscovered passions, are having to be pushed aside for the sake of his reputation. Perhaps in a separate universe, y/n would have the opportunity to pace herself, to get to know Ethan and explore the bizarre and unprecedented attraction she feels towards him. If she had a normal job; maybe if she worked in marketing or banking or as a barista in the charming little coffee shop opposite LIFE Magazine HQ everything would not be as complex as it is. Y/n hates Ethan Dolan for being successful, she hates that his face is on every billboard and every newsstand in the city. It's revolting that each time she turns on her television after a long day at work, somehow his name is dropped or his picture is shown. If he wasn't Ethan Dolan and she wasn't y/n y/l/n, life would be simple.

"I like you, Ethan," she admits and he feels his stomach lurch, "I think that maybe if the odds were in our favour, there's a strong chance that I'd want to spend a lot more time with you." Y/n sounds as though she has more to say but she does not continue speaking. Ethan drops his head, his gaze now firmly on his black brogues, unable to look at her without feeling a little hurt. He should have seen this coming, should have prepared himself whilst he wallowed in the ferocity of the unknown. "Your reputation matters," she says, "to you, Grayson and now to me. It shouldn't matter. But it does. I won't risk LIFE ruining your good name. It's not worth it."

There's something about good, selfless people that's agonizingly annoying. Ethan Dolan is struck by this epiphany. As commendable and admirable as y/n's lack of ignorance is, he really wishes she wasn't so nice. Y/n, in an ideal world, would decide to throw up a crude hand gesture towards Benson's empty threat and spend more time with Ethan, whether it is in the public eye or not. Y/n, again in an ideal world, would realise that she shouldn't care about Ethan's name in the business sphere and decide to traverse their flourishing friendship because she actually does like him. Alas, y/n is not arrogant or egotistical or parsimonious. She sees sense, it just sucks that she cares.

"I wish it didn't come down to this," he croaks, then clears his throat, looking up at her with those big whisky-coloured eyes, "Y/n, my reputation doesn't bother me anymore. Dolan & Dolan is changing, Grayson and I have been finalising our new arrangements. If your article gets out and people decide to look into it, they'll find nothing but our newer records - filled with good things." "It's not that easy." "I don't care! We can just say it's a fake, or that someone in the magazine's editorial team threw you under the bus-" "And risk me losing my job?" her eyes are wide with incredulity. "Jesus, y/n! Please, just give me a chance. We can meet in secret if it makes things easier for you? At least until this whole thing blows over. Howard Benson doesn't have to know anything."

She opens her mouth, full lips looking as though they're going to spill the words he's aching to hear. Y/n smiles ruefully at Ethan, he notes the way her eyes dance around his face and feels a pang of hopelessness. This is her taking in every little detail before it all ends, there's a heavy mist of finality hanging around them and it makes him want to cry. It's not even the rejection that's going to hurt him the most, it's losing her. Or at least what they could have had. In Ethan Dolan's world, integrity and honesty are incredibly arduous to unearth, he knows this from first-hand experience. Y/n y/l/n has always been upright and honest with him, he's wanted to tear his own hair out at some of her acts, but he appreciates this beyond anything his wealth could buy him. Ethan no longer cares about his ego or his money or his persona, he cares about y/n.

"Ethan, you know I wish I could say yes."

"Yeah, I know."

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

Hello! I'm so so so sorry for my absence over the past few months! Ironically, all my motivation and inspiration evaporates into absolute nothingness as soon as summer (and lots and lots of spare time) rolls around. I know this chapter is really short, but I hope you enjoyed it anyway!

[golden-priestess]

I love your idea of a mirror Zan! Ever thought of doing the other generals? Or Hyness?

(It’s munday so I thought I could answer this one myself instead of taking it as an ask for Zan.) Yeah definitely, it was really fun to imagine Mirror!Zan. (especially since I didn’t see a lot of fanart for her in an other version than the in-game ones) I actually made Mirror!Francisca and Mirror!Flamberge. I made a rough reference for them, though my Mirror!Flamberge would have a more green-ish theme color, because I thought that making them secondary colors themed would be nice. (but I didn’t save correctly the drawing so I can’t change it. oh well-) Here what personality I gave them: Mirror!Zan: She's pretty inconfident in how she leads, ending up trying to avoid problems rather than solve them, but she's still loyal to Hyness and thinks very meticulously her plans when it's more important. (unlike Zan, who has a deep sense of duty and will make big decisions without thinking them through) Her main ability is wind, using a wind spear instead of a lighting spear. Mirror!Francisca: It's simple, she's not elegant at all. She doesn't hesitate to be direct, even being rude, when saying things. Unlike Francisca, she's much more expressive and even curses sometimes, but she has a great sense of what's right. (though just like in-game Francisca, she's very caring, even if it comes off more rude than elegant or lady-like) Her main ability is fire, using a fire axe instead of an ice axe. Mirror!Flamberge: Calm and quiet, she speaks only when it's important and stays cool in tough situations. Unlike in-game Flamberge, she takes her work very seriously and will do anything to achieve her goals. (in-game Berge is seen to slack off when she encounters Kirby for the second time) Though she keeps quiet about it, she still has strong feelings for Francisca. Afterall, opposites attracts, right? Her main ability is water, using a water sword instead of a fire sword. (Note: It’s especially working on their mirror version that I found that Francisca and Flamberge are kind of already their own opposites, which could explain why their mirror versions look a lot like they only got switched with a similar haircut.)

[a-writing-bear]

[PruCan] Chapter 10: Soft-Spoken Calling, They Want Their Shyness Back

Ao3 Link:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/11159997/chapters/48518471

This Has been cross-posted onto FF & Ao3 under Aliases: BearBooper

You can read this Fic on Tumblr under ‘Keep Reading’ - Ao3 version is formatted, tumblr version is not. Ao3 is recommended.

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Fandom: Hetalia Axis Powers

Main Pairing: Gilbert Beilschmidt & Matthew Williams (Prussia & Canada)

AU:  College AU - Art Student Matthew and Media/Film Student Gilbert

Age Rating/Mature:  Teen And Up Audiences (12+ due to mentions of mature themes as well as swearing)

Trigger Warnings: Recreational Drugs & minor connotations of anxiety (Future addiction to mention themes such as addiction, rape etc.) WITHIN THIS CHAPTER - Mentions of Anxiety, Therapy, Counseling, and anti-depressants. (please note I am NOT anti-meds.) Family Issues are implied, Distance and abandonment suggested.

“Well. Let’s chat then schatje.”

Matthew shivered, not from the cold but the recall of his appointment. Tim had always been there for him, and was sort of desensitized, if not amused by Matthew’s squabbling and frustrated ramblings.

“Is it green or-”

“Nah left the baggie at home.”

His cigarette hung limp in between his fingers, twirling as he watched the hooded man wave his arms- half exhausted and only vibrant due to his stress. The Dutchman had taken out a box of marls, mainly cus he knew any kush would be noticed immediately- the last thing the two of them needed was the waiter ratting them out and the police on both their asses- and offered the sickly stick to his friend. Matthew grimaced, yet his hands grasped for the box searching for one as if he was desperate. He barely smoked. He justified himself that it was a social occasion that called for one and he could just down a coffee and hope his brother wouldn’t smell the tobacco on his worn-out hoodie. A flick of light from Tim’s Zippo was quick to latch onto the piece and the two silently dragged.

“I just don’t understand what she wants from me. She’s a great therapist but…. I’ve done the work... I’ve done the talking. I don’t- she wants me to call my dad.” the words fell out bitterly and ended so sour and abrupt, even Tim himself knew that the mere mention of Matthew’s father must have meant something was drastically serious. Oliver was not exactly an understanding of man.

“She wants YOU...to talk to your dad?!” Matthew’s throat aches with a slight comfort, his gut relaxed knowing at least it was as incredulous as he thought it was. The Canadian had a shaky relationship with his father (who wouldn’t when your father was an inconsolable dickhead?) and had always been a troublesome mess.

“Alfred said he hasn’t even called him. He’s still pissed. And I don't think my mum needs to know that life is still as shit as ever over here.” They both tutted, Matthew had ditched his smoke, stomping it out prematurely as he went to lean his back on the dusty wall of the diner, huddling next to his childhood friend. Tim had been fidgeting trying to find a comfortable leaning position on the wall and the two slowed down, next to each other in contemplative silence. “Alfred talked with Doc and I’m just kinda not feeling all of it ya know?” his voice drowned in exhaustion.

“...need a hug?” Tim’s voice came out lowly and quiet as if a secret offer, he never really was an affectionate person physically, and hugs from him were reserved for his sibling, his mother and Matthew. Always Matthew.

“Is the cold-professional businessman Tim Lars Van-de-Berg offering me a hug? I’m honoured~” Matthew joked as he stared off into the distance, not noticing the slight tinge of red that graced his friend’s cheeks. Tim scoffed and pushed his shoulder almost flinging him off the support of the brick wall, but caught him with a strong and solid grasp, wrapping an arm around the shorter boy’s shoulder and pulling him in some clumsy semblance of a side hug. Matthew was pressed amongst the warmth of his large jacket and hummed thanking his friend for the attempt at comfort. Matthew blushed once he remembered the question and insinuations his doctor had provided earlier pertaining to Tim.

“Hah. Paisley asked if I had a crush on you. Probably the only laughable thing I heard from her all month.” Matthew was too wrapped up in his amusement to notice the stiffness and the heavier hand that held him, nor did he sense the intake of bated breath of the Dutchman who just ruffled Matt’s hair then moved away. Tim was a lone figure, Always has been and the very idea that he had a remote interest in people like Matt was already so impossible to Mattie’s fragile self-esteem.

“Why do I feel like your brother is unlawfully attempting to woo Laura as of right now?” The conversation was being diverted.

“Doubt it. Al’s preoccupied with his long-distance crush- besides Luca would have prevented any comments.” The two snorted before resigning to go back in and face their siblings; one was hesitant due to his unresolved anxiety while the other was hesitant due to the warmth he had by his side.

“You’re going to Lukas and Matthias’ thing tonight right? Could you drive me? I got another prescription and I’m not sure I want to drive home high or drugged...defo not both.” Tim was not surprised- but he was indeed concerned.

“Are you sure you want to come tonight? I can always tell Mathias you aren’t up-”

“I’m fine. I want to go- It’s not often Lukas and Matthias host, I’ve been meeting to pass Lukas something anyway. I...I need the cooldown ya know?” his voice had pitched higher with defensiveness practically dripping off the vowels. Tim just nodded, ditched and smothered his bud and motioned for the two to go back in- lest they keep his sister waiting. There was gonna be a party tonight- the party being a very broad way of describing it.

The Canadian liked to keep to himself, he may be often alone but it was very rare he was truly feeling lonely; however, there was a group of people he’d mingle with on the weekends. To call them small would be an understatement. There were tons of people who would flock to these quieter house parties but the characters were the types to rather smoke and drink quietly rather than knock the walls down with blaring tunes. He’d know the Norwegian and Danish pair since orientation week and while Matthias bright-eyed smile reminded too much of his brother’s puppy eyes, and Lukas was just as cold towards conversations as an icicle he had enjoyed the company when they were together; they’re bickering felt endearing.

“Laura and Luca are probably hungry, Let's not keep em waiting, schatje.” the dutchman watched as the boy faltered, threw down the finished cig and fiddled with his hoodie. The two of them huffed and Tim had grasped onto Matthew’s palms to pull him in slight haste to get into the diner. Just as they were illuminated by the neon sidelights Matthew had found himself bumping into the back of Tim as the Older boy suddenly came to a harsh stop-

“Gilbert. What are you doing here?” Matthew perked up at the mention of his new crush friend. What was gilbert doing here? Oh...the Diner- he must have meant this dinner earlier. Wow. How convenient. Gilbert’s pale face had frozen as if he was a deer caught in the headlights- wide-eyed and surprised even though he had chosen to sneak behind here.

“Oh, I was...I thought I saw you so I just- heh... Nothing.” Gilbert stood awkwardly, the tall dutchman had been looking down at him and he directed his gaze solely on Matthew. The German knew vague amounts of Tim- he’d seen him around campus at the student bazaars- the man was always somewhere bargaining like some stone-cold dealer. “Right well- would..is it rude if I join you guys as I’m kinda alone tonight?” eyebrows raised from the two as they looked at each other in consideration. Simultaneously they answered: Mattie with a quick yelp of yes, whereas Tim had mumbled something along the lines of “my siblings…?

Fuck Tim, he hated himself cus the moment he saw the endearing smile that graced Matthew’s lips as he started trudging back to the front of the diner, he broke and motioned for Gilbert to join their already crowded dinner plan.

The door had jingled and the 3 men stumbled in, Matthew first as he navigated his way through the considerably empty diner back to the bench where Alfred and the Van-de-bergs were parked. The Van de Berg family was a curious bunch; their parents were living in Amsterdam on a big ranch while the 2 younger siblings had moved out to stay with their extremely capable brother as he went to Uni. Laura, ever the beautiful young lady, had just finished her high schooling but was taking a gap year to take care of her younger brother- Matthew always noted how cheerful she seemed, despite her teasing brothers. The youngest of the 3, Luca, had been dressed in a smart-casual getup, a blue and white striped shirt and a tie that had one of the local private school emblems bedazzled on it; They were certain Luca was just as smart and resourceful as his older brother yet what he lacked in Tim’s brawns, he just evoked a certain sense of charisma and had enough extravagance to scholarship his way into a private academic high school on a full ride-it was the reason the siblings came to live with their older brother.

Laura was the first to give Gilbert a dazzling smile- one that seemed to show some familiarity-

“You two always seem to come back with someone new!” Her voice sounded more amused than bothered by the new company. “We might need a bigger table at this rate!” unlike her warmth, Alfred seemed more off-put at the fact his brotherly bonding had become more of an extended gathering- and Gilbert’s newfound presence was less than wanted.

“Since when do you come here, Gil? And what are you doing with my baby brother huh?”

Matthew merely snorted as he pushed his brother to scoot over, “Alfred you’re the younger one. By 10 seconds.”

“Excuse you! It was 7 seconds-” Tim had coughed awkwardly, now pushed against the side of his brother, Luca cramped between his older siblings but still distracted by something on his phone.

“I was just passing by and caught these two on the way in, awesome right?” Gilbert seemed unperturbed by Alfred’s subtle aggressiveness- he had known the American through some other dodgy gatherings in the past and it was strange to know that quiet Matthew is associated to the blond- let alone related to him. The 3 latecomers ordered quickly, while the others had already received their meals; A bright pink milkshake had already been pushed into Alfred’s vicinity and a large number of fries scattered the tray across the group’s table,

“Mattie bro what do you-”

“Vanilla.” Tim had thoughtlessly interrupted, moving restlessly to lean forward towards Matthew opposite him, and attempted to light a cigarette before being chastised by his sister who was already tutting him and muttered something about being a bad influence on Luca. Alfred was about to say something before Matthie politely smiled at his sibling with a reserved ‘he’s right though- I do want vanilla’ grin that seemed more patient than cooperative. Gilbert had settled for a soda and made idle conversation with Laura who somehow mentioned she had seen him before:

“I’m quite sure I’ve seen you at that cafe on Acre Street?”

“Ah that was a while back but yeah- awesome..” it was only when Matthew's arms had jutted into his side that he noticed Matthew struggling to pour his drink into another empty glass- a glass that had been carelessly pushed towards him by Tim, who was more engrossed in talking to the youngest of the table about his homework-

Gilbert was confused and interested in the lavender eyed boy’s calculating movement, “Are you sharing your drink?” Matthew hummed, and tilted his head in thought, still carefully measuring out the white goop as if they were hazardous chemicals.

“Yeah I can’t have a lot of sugar, Tim and I usually share,” Matthew replied as if it was nothing- perhaps this was what he always did? Gilbert watched as Matthew seemed to be entranced in stirring his newly divided drink more than actually sipping it.

“Mattie used to puke all over..” The other twin seemed to indulge in embarrassing Matthew, and Gilbert only stopped from changing conversation due to the beautiful blush that had graced the Canadian's face, too pretty to prevent. Tim, on the other hand, seemed to nod in tandem with Alfred’s loud stories, as if confirming every cringe moment they recalled. I wonder how long they’ve known each other...

“...and then we had gotten up this huge ass slope and BOOM Matthew just-”

“Al. It’s near 9 pm.” Alfred's excitement halted for a second, before breaking out into a wide grin, and before a flash of over-eagerness came out in front of the van-de-bergs and the Beilschmidt Alfred faked an awfully obvious fake cough, quickly getting up and scrambling out the booth- hand pattingMatthew’s hair (why did people always touch his hair??)-

“S H I T. The car...I can't go... unless you’re ready to go Matt?” He can hear the whining tone ready to come out in Alfred’s quick downturn, Matthew was about to get up before Laura offered to take Al home, “Luca needs to get to bed too, he’s got an exam tomorrow- we can drop Alfie off on the way, the campus is really close! Besides, I know Tim and Matthew have plans tonight.” Tim choked up, his turn to awkwardly cough at the unintended insinuation his sister had thrown out (he says unintended but her eyes glistened with mischief- fuck laura sometimes) Alfred had only looked puzzled whereas Gilbert's eyes were darting back and forth between Matt and Tim.

“Perfect dudes, Mattie please stay safe and Tim.. watch Beilschmidt too..” he squinted and Gil just huffed and stuck his tongue out in playful annoyance at the American. Matthew sunk further into the booth, trying to ignore his brother's weird attempts at being a caring brother.

“Tell Kiku I said hi then and don’t forget to call-”

“Yeah yeah call dad or he’ll kill us- I got it I’ll see you later bro!” one last brotherly pat and Alfred had hightailed it out, two-thirds of the van de berg siblings following him behind, thus leaving the unlikely trio alone. Gilbert couldn’t make sense of it, but it seemed as if Matthew and Tim were telepathically communicating as it had been 3 minutes since the others had left and yet no one spoke a word.

“Soo….uh- you two dating or-”

“Nope.” Matthew blurted out, “we aren’t dating. At all.” clearly a question they get asked often huh? Gilbert’s eyes wandered ad his hands cradled his very watery soda in distraction. Tim’s smoke had finished before a word was uttered. Matthew hoped inside that this was a chance to hint towards his very open singleness-

“Look, I’d like to uh..invite you to our thing later but it’s a closed event.” Tim had jutted forward and was staring Gilbert’s red jewel eyes directly. Had it not been for Matthew sitting next to him fiddling with his straw and humming to himself he would have asked Tim what his problem was. Totally Un-Awesome.

“Rigggght. No, totally get it- I’ve got work anyway tomorrow.” He paused before turning to Matthew. “Just make sure we get time to work on our project alright? I think I should go home too.” Gilbert sighed, feeling a little left out but understood that perhaps he was overstepping into Matthew’s life too much- they barely  knew each other.  Gilbert got up and stalked out of the dingy diner and towards his bike(God, its perfect time for a drive right now)

He left. Left without noticing Matthew’s soft smile melt into a bothered frown as the hoodied boy watched him leave as if someone had kicked him the gut.

“You didn’t have to sound so harsh.”

“Well, you know we can’t just bring an outsider.”

“I know but- ...Gil is alright. He’s nice.”

“You think everyone is nice Matthew.”

Another cigarette was lit as Matthew watched those silver strands of hair disappear disappointingly on what looked to be a motorbike through the window. It doesn’t hurt to be nice all the time, Matthew thought to himself, his milkshake unpleasantly lukewarm in his grip.

[endoftheroad1983]

Into The Jungle, part 1

Into the Jungle

Rj Finn x Reader

The sun was quite warm on your skin as you left the bus that you were on. You were new to Ocean Bluff. You were here to start a new life and leave your past behind. The bus move on behind you as you stood with a large duffel bag with a matching rolling suit case by your side. It was still early in the afternoon as the middle of town was bustling with townies and tourist.

Taking a whiff of the air around you, you were immediately drawn in by the scent of pizza. Your stomach growl with great force. I really should get a room first to take a shower. You thought but your stomach was not having it. That's when you remember when your last meal was. Last night before the overnight bus ride. You gave in opting another solution to the problem.

A bell rang out to a local pizza shop called: Jungle Karma Pizza. The place was almost empty except for a couple in the corner both and a young blonde woman standing behind the counter.

“Excuse me?” I greet her as I approach the counter.  She look up with a dazzling smile.

“Hi, Welcome to Jungle Karma Pizza, What can I get you?”

I swallow my nervousness as I sat my duffel bag on a bar stool.

“Well first I was wondering if you could help me out? Can you put my bags behind the counter so I can refresh in the bathroom? I was on a overnight bus you see...” You tried to explain the situation to her but she cut you off.

“Oh no problem. You came at the right time. I'll back here for a bit.” She agree quickly as she help me with my bags.

You quickly thank her as you rush to the bathroom to do you business. After a few minutes at the sink you felt satisfied that you were decent enough to sit down for a meal. You exit the colourful room just to hear a short, young, male with black hair talking to the girl. True to her word she had not let your bags out of her sight.

“And is she a paying customer?” The young man question her.

“Breathe Theo, sometimes its ok just to be nice.” She teases him with her smile as you approach them.

“She is indeed a paying customer. I just needed a moment to myself.” You answer the question with a playful smile as well. You were quick to take your bags from the woman. She told you to sit where ever you like. So you chose a booth in front of the main window. It would be fun to people watch.

After a few minutes of setting your stuff in the opposite bench sit, you slid into the other one. This place your back to the front door. You watch the hustle of people going ever which way as you bask in the sun.

“I'm Lily by the way, Here's a menu and is there anything I can get you to drink?”

“Y/N, can I start with a glass of water?” You answer as you shook her hand. Lily was delight by the quick skin contact from you. Most of her customer were young kids and family. The rare few that did dine in wasn't this friendly.

“Sure can. I'll be right back with it.”

The creative choices on the menu was outstanding that you were having a hard time making a deciding. But Soon settle for a special of the day and a glass of  Y/F/D. Lily bounce off to put the order in. She hung back around the counter filling up the pepper and salt shakers. It was nice that she wasn't the hovering type. It left you to drift off in your daydreams as you watch the sea of bodies flow by.

“I almost had you!” The dinging of the bell broke your dreaming as your eyes found the source as two guys came in through the front door. Laughter exploded from there as Lily smile appear on her face. You watch from the corner of your eye the two guys approaching her.

“In your dreams Casey. A Night who thinks it won loses to the Dawn.” The taller, and quite handsome, of the two answer back. The one name Casey face fell as he was calculating in his head.

“Is this another one of your confusing saying?”

It was Lily and the handsome man’s turn to laugh.

“Hit the showers you two. After school rush starts in fifteen minutes.” She order as the two disappear into the kitchen.

“Lil, Your orders up.” Theo hail from the serving window.

The pizza was outstanding that you know that this was the place you needed to be. The atmosphere was perfect to let your writing flow out of you for an hour and a half a day. This was going to be a great way to start a new beginning. The bell of the door alert you that the began of the after school rush was beginning as you heard the chattering. You paid your bill and slipped out quietly knowing full well a food rush was insane to deal with.

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

“Y/N!” Lily squeal your name in her greeting in surprise. It's been a little over three months of your new life here and you couldn't even imagine being this happy. Lily was the closest to the friend that you got so far. But that didn't stress you out to much. She was quick to introduce you to Theo and Fran.

But not the handsome stranger that disappear behind the swinging door that first day. But you brush it off. You were not the type to push meeting new people just by a glance at them.

“Hey Lily. Hey Fran!” Fran smile and wave. She was sitting at the counter with a book in hand. She must be on break, You muse. You threw your greeting to them as you slip off your rain coat and hung it on a hook by the door. You collected your valuables into your purse just in case. As you settle down in your spot, Lily was by your side with a glass of water.

Lily had inform you the slow hours of the day which was perfect for you and your writing.

“Didn't think we would see you today with the rain.” Lily mention the window. It had been down pouring earlier that mourning but was now a steady drizzle.

“And let you ladies hang around being bored?” I tease after taking a sip of your water.

“What will it be today?” She ask as you wave off the menu she was holding.

“Russian Roulette but spicy but tell Theo not too spicy.” You

“I heard that!” Theo appear in front of the register. He was putting on a apron so you were pretty sure he was clocking in. You stuck your tongue out at him which earn a laugh from him. Yes, you were starting to feel like this was your home.

After a few minutes you found yourself typing away as Lily clean and dance to the jute box. She had a great taste in a variety of music. You were so distracted that you didn't know there was another customer until he spoke up.

Your head shot over to the voice. He was a tall and thick man that was sporting a black leather vest  over a white shirt and blue jeans. Just from the look in his eyes you knew he was trouble. Every hair stood on your body telling you to stand up but you force yourself to remain still. You even dropped your eyes to your screen to avoid any conflict.

“Can I get a refill?” He called out rudely to Lily.

But you had the feeling this was just the tip of the ice berg. What distraught you the most was that you saw it in Lily's eyes as well. She was quick with his request with a bright smile on her face. But that didn't change the man's mood seeing that she also deliver his check. As soon as he was done with the soda pop he slam the plastic cup on the table. The noise broke you from your stature position.

“Hey this pizza sucked I'm not paying for it.” His thunderous words disturb the quite lobby. You caught Lily stopping herself from frowning as she gave Fran a small nod. She then went over to the table to take up the matter.

“Sir, you ate half the pizza. How come you are questioning it now?” You could see her shaking in frustration.

“Because it's just now started to suck.” The man's non logic reason was grinding on your nerves, “So I'm not paying.” He began to scoot out of the booth.

And before you knew it you were in front of him stopping him from his escape.

“What do you what?” He snapped at your presence.

“Look Sir, please pay the lady. It's the law.” You held your manners like Lily did. Only you place a hand on his large shoulder shoving him back into the booth.

“What!”

Before he could react you reach down and cover his hand with his. You use all the calming energy that you had to offer into the man's skin. A haze look over came his eyes for a moment before the anger melt. You straighten back up moving over to Lily's side.

“Your right, I just got dump my by my boyfriend. I didn't mean to take it out on you.” The man reveal to both Your and Lily’s surprise.

He drop the total amount on the table but then handed Lily her tip as he apologies again for the scene. Energy transformation was always different with people, no one was the same. At least he only told the truth this time, You shrugged it off as you and Lily fell into laughter.

“I didn't expect that!” You told her truthfully.  

“Right, poor guy! Dating today is a nightmare.”

“You can say that again!” You sigh whole heartily.

“Lily?” Her name was being called. It was the handsome guy from that day. Lily quickly threw you a thanks for helping. You almost forgot that he work here. He stood tall with a zebra printed hat and a bright orange apron wrap around his waist. Fran must have fetch him. You for one didn't want her to get in trouble for loitering, so you slip back into your spot. You had a hard time concentrating on the screen in front but refuse to give up the staring contest with it.

That's when you heard Lily talking in hush tones.

“That's the girl I was telling you about. She's pretty isn't she? You really need to change your jogging schedule.” You want so bad to glance up but if you did your face would grow even more red then a tomato. Was she really talking to him? Was it really about you? Who else would it be? The last customer had left! You scold yourself for slipping.

“Shhh, Lil she might hear you.” The next thing Lily had said was muffled up followed by her loud burst of laughter.

The door flew open before the bell even had time to say it was open. A wave of kids, all ages, storm the place signalling you that it was time to leave. You wave to Lily as your good-bye as she was handling the kids. She shot you a bright smile and a wink before you left. What was that wink for?

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

It wasn't till three days later you were able to make it back to the pizza shop. It was a beautiful Wednesday afternoon with sun high in the sky. The salt of the sea filled your nostrils. The bell of the door was music to your ears. The place smell great and you were looking forward to some great pizza.

“There you are! I was about to put together a search party.” Lily burst from the kitchen.

“Well here I am so that won't be necessary.” You laugh as you took your favourite spot as she came over with your water. She took your order the went directly in the back. Usually she would call through the window but it wasn't like you were worry about it.

Lily was back in a matter of minutes. The lobby was dead except for you. It was a rare day like this extraordinary when it was such a gorgeous day.

“What no laptop, Today?” She slid into the bench in front of me.

“No, I'm a feeling a bit cabin fever. My allergies went hay wire and I was stuck at home these past days.” You didn't feel compelled to explain to her but it was nice talking the small things with her.

“Glad your feeling better. I was wondering if you would like to hang out with us for a movie night this Friday after the store closes.”

You were taken off guard by the offer. It was such a long time hanging out with another group.

“Sure where do you want to meet up?” The words were off your lips before your brain could tell you no. Lily let out one of her sweet laughs before answering.

“Here, silly.” She lean in for the next part, “ There is a full loft upstairs. Your eyes grew wide with surprise by the news.

“Well that's cool.” You admitted.

“Yea it is. Oh do you have pillows you could bring over. Fran and I want to make a massive comfy zone to veg out in.

“Oh yea I have lots I can bring over!” Already you were excited for a girls night ought. You told yourself that a girl's night is exactly what you need.

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A girl's night is what you needed, it was, however, not what you got. You were upstairs in the loft's bathroom that Lily had shown you. You ran the water as you tried to calm your breathing. You should have ask more questions then jumping into a commitment. Your brain was scolding you once again. You shut the water off so that you didn't waste any more you Rj's water. Yes, the hottie that you were scoping out was sitting in a green recline when Lily and Fran brought you to the movie zone.

It was the wink! You growl at yourself. It wasn't nice to eavesdrop but you glad you did because you were praying to God that this wasn't turning into a set up. You saw an image in your mind's eye that you would just get up and go home if they get you alone with Rj. Then if that happen you couldn't come back here again. No, scratch that you would have to move again.

Stop being a drama queen and get out there! You listen yourself. You found that Lily and Fran had made Rj move his recliner back. Now a huge pile of pillows cover the floor. Your mouth drop open at the amount.

“I'm calling it Fort Fluffy Bunch!” Lily boost happily as your guys eyes met. You shut your mouth and nodded.

“Looks great Lily!” A new guy, with short blonde hair and a gold necklace, came down the stairs carry a white popcorn bowl. He stop right next to you taking the pillows in, “But we still need more.” He tease her as she stuck her tongue at him.

“Y/N this is Dominic, Dom this is Y/N.” A wild smile erupted onto his face. You felt your stomach drop from the look. Oh boy! Something was going on here.

“I heard so much about you! It greet to finally meet.” Dominic or Dom, like Lily called him, bow a little bit.

“It's nice to meet you as well.” You giggle behind your hand. Crap, you snapped at yourself, that was a sign of flirting that you did. But in reality it was a nervous tick that you had.

Dom made it easier for you as he crawled onto the Fort stopping only when he was right next to Fran. He whisper something in her ears soon she was giggle. Good for you Frannie. You thought as you did the same.

You claim a small area almost near the middle of the fort. Lily crawl her way to lay in the middle. Ok, see not as bad as you thought, you reason with yourself when Lily gave you another wink.

“Ok what are we watching first?” Casey call from somewhere behind you.

“Kung-Fu!” Theo cry from another spot earning a whole bunch of groans. It seem the others weren't thrilled with his choice.

“Theo, Sweetie. You have a unhealthy addiction to Kung-Fu  movies.” Lily move next to me.

Soon everyone settle on a comedy. It was one you never seen and it turn out to be really funny. It was a great beginning to the night. Until half way through the movie a new voice bark from your other side. You didn't have to look to know that it was from Rj. He had move from his recliner to an empty spot closest to the stair case.

Your heart flare up some so bad that you thought Lily was going to say something about the pounding. But she didn't say anything instead she was whispering back and forth lightly with Theo. So You tried to focus on the movie but Rj's laughter still rang out in your ears.

A grin spread on your lips as you thank God that it was a comedy you were watching. Soon you were lost back into the plot. You forgotten the anxiety in your head as you enjoy spending time with them. Soon the movie was over with Dom putting in the next. It was a horror parody that made fun of the movie out there. It made Rj, Casey, and Dom laugh just from the start. It was a cheesy move with great jokes.

It wasn't until half way in the movie that a beeping noise brought even up one their feet. Including you. Theo was quick to pause the movie. When everyone's eyes drift to me.

“It's ok guys. I promise you a night off and I meant it. I'll go see what's up.” It was Rj's voice. And it sound much closer then you thought. No one question Rj for a second.

“Bathroom break!” Theo called out and left to be the first.

“Y/N, would like to help me round up more snacks?” Fran ask as she fended off Dom playful tickling. His hand immediately drop at the word food.

“Well how about we throw those pizzas in so they can be ready for when Rj gets back.” Casey had went straight back to his lounging position. It was almost as if he was a cat fully stretched out.

“Are you sure he'll be back in time? We really don't know how late he will be?” Fran spoke from halfway up the stairs.

You stood up to face them. It was almost like they had forgotten you were there.

“What did Rj have to do?” The look on their faces as the words left your mouth prove that you were right.

“Oh you know Business Owner stuff?” Casey mustard up as excuse. He was now on his feet and was over by Lily.

“Business?” Your brow wrinkle up.

“Yea, you know Jungle Karma Pizza Business.” Fran rambled out.

You were slowly connecting the dots when Theo came out of the bathroom.

“Probably another late night shipment. Only the owner is allow to sign for that.” He said matter of factly as  Your eyes Follow Lily to the small kitchenette on the second level. She was wearing cat-ish grin as she knew that you didn't know that.

“Owner? Oh wow. That sweet. You guys must love working here.”

Your heart had began to race once more. Not only was Rj handsome and funny but he was a owner of a shop. That information alone told you that he had his head on straight. A small chill ran down your spine. Could you be crushing even more now?

After another hour of talking and goofing around the pizzas were in and it was second movie time. It was a horror thriller!  The movie had played more on your nerves then you thought. You found yourself buried under the blankets as if that was going to keep you safe from a killer clown. And that's where you stayed the rest of the movie. Your eyes glue to the screen until the very end.

“Well, I don't know about anybody else but I did not see that ending coming!” Rj's voice broke the quietness in the room.

His voice was back to being very close to you. You didn't know that Rj had made it back. You jump from your spot with a squeal you couldn't contain even if you had tried. This earn a laugh from the boys as Rj was quick to your side.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. I got caught up.” His green eyes held yours in a captivation beautiful view. You didn't know eyes could be as gorgeous as his.

“It's fine. I was caught up as well.”

Rj had seize the moment to talk to you alone,  he talk over the plots that he found interesting. You had an easy time following suit as you point out something that he didn't notice. It wasn't until Lily was bidding you a god-night that you realise you had been talking for over an hour. You bid a good bye telling lily that you will reclaim your pillows tomorrow.

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True to your word, You were back at the pizza shop the very next day. Things were they way the usual were except that there was a new person hanging around the lobby. Rj was busy himself in the corner of the lobby. You could feel your cheeks burn with heat. If you remember correctly this was the time that Rj went for his daily run. You took your spot and took out your laptop. Quickly  you beginning working on your story where you had left off. The sun was high in the sky letting it's rays fall down onto you through the window. The warmth from the ray brighten your day as you were in a zone.

“What can I get you?” A pleasant voice broke you out of your work. You eyes lifted to see that Rj was now standing beside your table with a pad. The heat brush your cheeks again as you had lost all knowledge of speaking, “I'm sorry, Did I interrupt you?” He spoke again with great concern.

“No, It's my fault I was zone out.” You push back the laptop so that you could pay attention to Rj. After a minute Rj was walking back to put your order in. You watch him walking away appreciate the view from behind. You blush madly as you caught yourself. You pulled the laptop back in front of you before you got yourself in trouble. A few more customers wander in to keep Rj busy as you return to your work.

And that was how You spent your time for the next couple of months. Rj had change his running time to late in the evening. He offend encourage you to go. After a dozen or so puppy faces you gave in. In such short time, Rj and you were closer then you had ever dream. Getting to know each other better every time you see each other. Movie night became a typical Friday and there was no surprise that you and Rj were laying in the back talking about the movies.

Everything was great even all those times that your new friends disappear without a word. You shrugged it of like Fran was doing. You even help Fran by cleaning the lobby a few nights after closing. It was a little strange but it really wasn't no big deal.

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

It was a typical Friday when it happen. First off you should have read the warnings from the wind. It had  blew over your favourite purple orchids. The second sign was when you left your apartment a strong, gush of wind nearly knock you into the trash can! And of course it was filled with gross, wet trash. Seriously was the wind out to get you or what? The sun was high in the sky that you decide to have lunch out in the park.

But that ended just as fast as you sat down on the grass. You could feel eyes on you. You scan the area. No one was even looking your way but the animals. Why were all the animals looking at you?  Two bites into your sandwich and you were done. You finish your picnic in the car as you drove around the park. But the feeling of being watch soon turn to being followed.

A buzzing noise called out to your ears. You quickly found a empty spot and look at your phone when you found a parking spot.

No pizza for Dinner today? I'm wounded! It was a text from Rj. He already broke the high tension that you were feeling.

Nope, just a light meal, Don't be wounded your pizza's still the best so far.

So far!!!???!! Your lucky I like you

No, your lucky that I like you Did that really just happen? You felt your cheeks heat up.

Are you still coming tonight? He was quick to ask.

Of course, It's my movie night. I'm not giving it over to Casey

Good, it better be a great movie He tease back.

Even over the text on the phone Rj could still make you blush. You close out your phone and decided to find a movie for the night. You soon found a Mom and Pop's movie rentals shop. (yes they still exist)  Your started in the action section but after awhile found yourself staring at a werewolf movie. You felt someone move behind you. You look up to see the back of a man. He had chin length black hair.

To be safe you choose a action/martial arts that Theo would be happy about. You quickly gave the DVD and headed to check out. The feeling of being followed was now a strong one. You had to get out of there now! You look down at your watch to see that JKP was just now closing up shop. On a normal night you would give them a hour before dropping by but your nerves were turning into a very strong scared feeling.

“You said that you could feel somebody following you? Did you notice anyone in particular?” Rj greeted you at the front door of the store. You didn't hesitate to rush into the store, you, yourself, turn around bolting the door lock. That was when Rj notice something and once he question you in his serious voice. (the one you found very sexy.) you spilt the beans about your whole evening. Rj had guided you away from the door and into the kitchen. Lily came bouncing down and saw the look on your face.

“Lil, could you give us a few minutes?” She nodded understanding and bounce back up the stairs.

“I must be stressed out. Maybe I should stop writing for a few days and take a break.” You reason with yourself as Rj crossed over to you.

“No, I believe you. Is there anything else that you notice about the day?” You explain the events with the winds. “And this is going sound strange...” You dropped your eyes to the ground.

“Trust me, Y/N. It's probably not that bad.” His voice was so soothing that you decide to lie. You didn't want him to think your some kind of freak.

“Y/N?” Rj whisper down to you. He was now standing inches in front of you. You could feel his warm breath on your forehead. He waited quietly and patiently for an answer. You swallowed your fear.

“I think the animals were watching me.” Rj's eyebrows shot up but he didn't say anything degrading.

“Oh, Have that hap....” But before Rj could ask the question Theo came down the staircase.

“Theo...” Rj started but Theo cut him off.

“Rj, you have a guest sitting in your chair. He wishes to speak with you.”

A guest? Your mind marvel but how? No one came through here while the two of you were there.

“Thank you, Theo. Will talk about this later, Ok? Just relax for now. I guess I have a guest.” Rj laugh at his little rhyme. You smile at him. “I'm serious Y/N your safe here.” You followed him up the stairs. Once at the top you were pulled away by Lily and Fran. They were whisper excitedly about the new guess at the kitchen bar. Fran handed you a drink but you couldn't pay attention to them.

You were standing by the railing in no time. Looking down, it look like Rj had regain his chair as the stranger was standing with his back towards you. Their conversation was low that it seem like they were not talking at all.

You look over to the stranger. His short black hair ping you from somewhere. No, it couldn't be? The image of you in the video store became clear to you. He was standing behind you. You felt your drink slip out of your hands before you had time to react.

“I'm sorry!” You quickly apologies as you collect towels to clean up your mess. Your face was bright red as you knew that everyone was looking at you. As you stood up, you plan on heading back to the kitchenette but the didn't happen.

Instantly you came eye to eye with the stranger. It was now that you see that he was wearing very odd clothing. His hair ended short in the back but was chin long with streaks of silver in the front.

“Princess, I'm so happy that I found you!” He called out happily as he clutch his fist in front of his chest.

[folerdetdufoler]

oh friday. we love a fredag in this house. this was the one day i had plans, and by “i had plans” i mean i tagged along for haidee and nadège’s plans because they were in oslooooo! they were flying in later that morning, so i had some time to spend on my own, which was good. i took my sweet ol’ time eating breakfast, looking out the window and hoping for the clouds to part, a ray of sun to appear, anything. but no. it remained quite dark most of the day, and the light you see in the photos is mostly due to editing in instagram. there was also a pretty constant drizzle that remained from the day before, but i wasn’t going to let that stop me. i had a city to explore!

so, naturally, i went back to the opera house, my most visited location outside of my hotel room in all of my trips combined. it was a bit too windy to deal with my travel umbrella so that went back into my backpack after the second time it blew inside out. i walked over to the harbor to see if, perhaps, the view was better over the water. it was not. but i climbed up the opera house steps anyway, because at least i could walk off breakfast. it was strange because i was the only one up there, but it was also shit weather and not much of a view (again), so i just figured i would enjoy having the place to myself (was the opera house closed? mayhaps.). and enjoy it i did, because i managed to slip and fall at the top! i was done climbing, it wasn’t even any kind of incline…i was just distracted trying to take a photo of the non-view and my feet were like “okay let’s make a break for it!” and they most certainly did. now i love my alone time, being able to experience the world without the pressure of existing in it, but i really loved my alone time just then, when my body decided to stop standing. feet went up, ass went down, i probably screamed, and then i posted about it on instagram, like you do. the tradition of climbing up the opera house in the winter and then eating it was alive and well.

i held on to the wall as i climbed back down.

then i walked around the harbor, hoping the light rain would soak enough of the rest of my pants as to disguise how wet my ass was. i went to the salt…area? installation? i’m not sure how to describe it. the other side of the harbor. just because it was a location i’d seen in a bunch of norwegian instagram stories and i had to see these t-shirts for myself. it was cool. i was slightly distracted because i was going low at that point, had walked off too much of my breakfast in fact, and only had a packet of gushers in my backpack for a sugar boost. so i moved on to an apotek to find glucose tablets.

i changed pump systems back at the end of august, adding a cgm and increasing my insulin usage by like…500%. my previous two trips were done on an old, dying pump and barely any bolusing or glucose monitoring, so this was my first trip where i was actively using insulin and keeping my numbers in range. this is a good thing, of course, but it was also new and a distraction and created dangerous situations for myself as i insisted on walking back and forth across the city center. i struggled to count carbohydrates with the different nutrition information on the food i bought (y’all what’s the point of telling me how many carbs are in 100 g of food if i can’t tell how much food is in the container?). i mean, i did okay, because i’ve been eyeballing this shit since i was twelve, but my new system relies heavily on accurate carb counts and boluses. if i don’t give it the right information, it has to compensate with the basal rate, and those automatic adjustments were not jiving with my bursts of activity. ugh, okay, well this was all just a weird venting aside and explanation for what i did in my down time: struggle.

in some flash of unusual foresight, i had kept the empty tube of glucose tablets and was able to show that to the pharmacist so she could do the translating for me. i would’ve cooed over the norwegian version of my tablets if i had the mental capacity in that moment, but i had to eat some first before i could even navigate my bag to find my wallet to pay for them. i was blessedly alone in this pharmacy as well, so only this one lady had to witness me dumping my damp backpack out on the floor to find a fuckin’ credit card. anyway, crisis averted. i chomped on raspberry-flavored sugar as i walked back to the hotel. whatever parts of me hadn’t gotten wet from the rain were now soaked through with my sweat so i had to dry off before the main event.

haidee had arranged for a late lunch for us at ett bord, so i met her and nadège there, along with margaux and charlotte. it was so lovely reconnecting with my girls and meeting new ones, and talking about the show of course but also learning about their regular lives as well. i don’t have much to compare it to, but it always feels so easy meeting strangers because even if we never interacted online, we still have this same source material that, at this point, courses through our veins. we talked about the show and fic and the con of course, since half of us were attending it the next day. i took a picture of the quiche that haidee had ordered because i…did not know that was quiche. and then maybe halfway through lunch i shit my pants?

or whatever it is that my body did when it heard henrik’s voice over my shoulder. maybe it was the opposite of shitting my pants. maybe i was clenching too hard because i felt like my heart was going to fall out of my ass. yeah, that.

our end of the table went silent. i was the last to realize what was going on because i had angled my body to face everyone else so i couldn’t see him enter or sit down. but i heard his voice and i froze and i hated myself for it.

we managed to get talking and eating again like the adult human beings we are. i think a couple were sat between our group and henrik then so it felt like there was a buffer and i could relax a bit. siv came over to chat and we were #exposed as fans (though if the chick clenching so tight she was about to eat the stool with her ass wasn’t a tip off then…) but i think we remained chill? i hope we did? i was still functioning well enough to use a fork so there was that, at least. and the food was good! i cleared my plate.

but then that fucker decided to come over to our group and say hi before he left, exhibiting the kindness and hospitality he’s known for at this point, and ugh. how dare he. i did not consent to death, thank you very much, yet there i was, clenching and dying.

i don’t know how to explain it without sounding rude and ungrateful, so i guess i’m being rude and ungrateful. but it did feel…violating? if only because i thought the screen that had always separated me from him as an actor was still in place. i realize i was in his city, in his family’s restaurant, and i was at this place of my own volition, but i still expected that wall to remain intact. i’d been to the restaurant twice before without coming into contact with his family, or been identified as a skam fan. i had assumed it would happen again. i had assumed those involved with the convention would be busy elsewhere with that, or hiding from it as long as they could. the restaurant is weirdly an established fan attraction, and thus far i’d been able to enjoy it without that association, and i had naively thought it would remain that way even on the eve of such a large fan event. but i’m a goddamn fool, and henrik is a very generous host.

he left. i unclenched. i think everyone else was simply delighted by the chance meeting and excited for the weekend to come because that’s why they were there. they were there to be skam fans. and i guess i…wasn’t? even though i’ve been struggling with my identity as anything but a skam fan, here i was, at the heart of the show, trying to deny it. ugh.

anyway, marie joined us as we were finishing up and from there we all walked to the convention location so they could register in advance. i met up with jenn there, and then we just bounced around until it was time for the play. we went to an atm, then to a christmas market, then to tanum on a sudden, exciting hunt for books, then to the theatre! and finally, finally, surrounded by blonde children who only came up to my waist, i got to hug kit. third time’s the charm, bitch.

then it was time for snøfall! we were seated painfully close to the stage because in my enthusiasm over the summer i had chosen some aggressive seating. on top of that actors were entering the stage from the aisle and the wing right in front of us, so while it was a funny and sweet story, i was legitimately frightened multiple times throughout as residents of snøfall ran right past us. but it was a fun show to watch, and the singing was impressive. i got to tune my ear to more norwegian, and of course, see tarjei. i loved the whole atmosphere of it, because it reminded me of my own family’s christmas tradition as a child, going to see the nutcracker at lincoln center. and holy shit, the set design was amazing? i barely looked at the program but at the end we stood in the lobby and tried to figure out who was responsible for choreographing such detailed settings in a very mechanical yet elegant way (i think it’s gjermund andresen and christer berg, fyi).

it was a wholly enjoyable performance, riiiiight up until a tarjei stan ran up to the stage to hand him flowers. he had to step out of the bows to accept them, which felt rude to the actual stars of the play and the children actors, but i didn’t catch their actual reactions because i was busy dying, again. i slid down in my seat hoping to melt into the floor but alas. #exposed.

we left. no one had a plan (welcome to the club) so we wandered to the christmas market. then we figured we needed dinner, so we walked over to grünerløkka to a place jenn had on her list. they were too busy for drop-ins, but their host kindly directed us to another restaurant with a similar vibe. at this point we’d done quite a bit of walking and were getting hungry, so when we spotted a bislett kebab on the way we decided to just give up and grab something there instead. it didn’t really matter to me, because food is food (and at least i was familiar with this food since i’d had it a couple of times last winter!). i would keep walking for hours as long as we were talking, but it was good to finally rest. i think it made me realize how tired i was, and i wasn’t even coming off of a morning of travel like everyone else. we split off after dinner and i collapsed back at the hotel. what a day.

before i go though, i just need to say that the best part of all of this was listening to margaux, charlotte, marie, nadège, jenn, and haidee talk about fic. i think they talked more about fic and the characters than the actual show, which makes sense, because that’s the most active part of the fandom (this was before the bloopers announcement). they were talking about what was still so alive for them, what they were keeping alive with their own stories and comments, and i just want to…i don’t know, give them credit? these women are amazing. they are why i impulse-bought tickets back in august, so i would have an excuse to see them again, and meet more like them, and attempt to show support in return. they are pursuing what they love, accomplishing so much, honing their own skills and supporting the talents of others. as much as i am ashamed of being one myself, i love how they are fans. i admire their lack of shame and their abundance of respect. they were on a trip, thoroughly enjoying themselves, and it was just comforting and affirming to watch them be relatable and wonderful human beings treating themselves to a fun weekend (what they deserve). i wonder, when i grow up, if i could be like them someday.

[brattywriters-anonymous]

A Rose In Harlem

OC x Erik story

Based on Teyana Taylor’s VII & KTSE

WARNINGS: Cursing, slow burn, Hate at first sight.

Winter, 2013.

A brisk December day approaches Syeda (Syd for short) in her small Uptown studio apartment that she’s dishing out way too much money for. She rubs her eyes in disdain that the sun is up again, she only just gotten to bed three hours ago, working on her lookbook for her fashion line the entire night prior. Syeda worked hard, and played hard. She not only lived the montra, she loved it. She rose out of her bed and stumbled to her bathroom, conveniently tripping over a pile of the clothes that she wore the day before.

She flipped the switch, the fluorescent light flickered its usual three times before turning on completely as her slender framed mug came into full view.  Her view spanned over her caramel skin complexion. Her face lightly covered with faint freckles over her cheeks, her full lips, and the scar under her right cheekbone that her dog gave her when she was nine. She huffed at the faint mark, the loc of frizzy and curly hair that covered her face moved up and down as she did so. She grabbed her red bandana designed iPhone  from the dresser that was adjacent from the other side of the bathroom door and clicked through her Apple Music until she stopped at her Harlem4L playlist, she decided to start her day by blasting Cam’ron x Lil Wayne “Suck it or Not” She dance/strutted back into the bathroom, grabbed her large tooth comb from the counter and began to lip sync, “Ma, I been huggin’ the block/ That’s right. Hustlin’ rocks./ I know I been puffin’ a lot/ But a nigga wanna know baby girl you gon suck it or not?” Her free arm moving along to every other syllable of every bar as if she was Cam himself, rapping at the Apollo Theatre. She chuckled at herself and moved along to the shower, throwing on her shower cap. She was turning on the hot water..or so she thought. The hot water was out again and Mr. Van Den Berg, Syd’s elderly landlord and the tenant in the loft downstairs, said that the plumber came last month and fixed the issue. She groaned and practically threw on her camel colored Uggs before she stomped out the door.

She swung the door open and immediately walked to her left toward the stairway without looking and bumped into someone. She didn’t even take a second to look back, she just said, “My bad.” and made a beeline for Mr. V’s door. He opened the door before Syd’s petite hand could form a fist to knock on it. “Miss mooie bloem, good morning. Heard your dainty footsteps, I knew you were coming down here, how may I help?” She heard the sarcasm in his tone when he mentioned her footsteps. She rolled her eyes, “Mr. V, the hot water is out again, I can’t shower in cold water, It’s December, you gon’ have me out here with the flu or somethin’!”  He shook his head no and grabbed his cordless phone in the same instant to contact the building’s pumber. Syd pressed the power button on her phone to check the time, 9:47am, “Yo Mr. V, I need him here in the next hour. I have a meeting to go to and I can’t be late!” Mr. Van Den Berg nodded his head and stated that Yasin would be there by 10:15. Syd stomped up the stairs she heard a male’s baritone say, “Yeah, your lil ass neighbor bumped into me, didn’t even look back to see if I was okay or anything, cuh!” That accent, he definitely wasn’t from New York, let alone from the east coast. She twisted her doorknob and mumbled, “Well maybe you need to look where you going, CUH.”

--

Syeda had been pacing back and forth in her cramped kitchen for what seemed like hours, She tapped the home button on her phone. 11:01am Fuck. She thought in her mind. She heard two taps on her front door, she swung it open, and went off, “Do you not think that anyone has a fuckin’ life. You’re over thirty fuckin’ minutes late and I was supposed to be gone by now! ARE YOU DUMB?” This brutha stood at least about 6’2”, about 280..maybe 290 lbs. Syeda couldn’t give a fuck less that she was maybe a quarter of his size. She stepped up to him, thinking her 5’1”, 133 lbs. would match up to him by being closer. She was so busy flying off the handle that she didn’t notice her neighbor across the hall, Ziggy (short for his last name, “Zigler”) and the mystery out of towner she ran into earlier were going downstairs, headed out. By the time she got done yelling, they were at the bottom of the staircase and she heard that voice again, “Aye cuh, Couldn’t be me. I would’ve taught her lil wild ass some manners.” Mystery man was faced toward the door and as soon as he finished his rude comment, he was gone. Syd decided to let that ride, since she figured she wouldn’t see him again, and turned her attention back to Yasin. He raised his eyebrow, and took one step past her into the apartment, still staring at her. “Traffic.” he simply stated then he walked straight back to the bathroom.

--

Syeda’s phone began to vibrate and go off, “BESTIE BIIIIIIIIIIIIHHHH” with too many twin and heart emojis to count ran across the screen. She sneered over at Yasin, he was still seated on her toilet seat reaching over the tub, fixing whatever. She looked above the call and saw 11:52. She sighed and accepted the facetime call. Yani, or Ayana when Syd is mad at her, looked directly into the front facing camera, “BITCH. Wher--I KNOW YOUR ASS STILL NOT AT HOME WITH A GOTDAMN SHOWER CAP ON! YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO BE HERE IN LIKE, 10 MINUTES. WHAT THE FUCK!” Syd palmed her face slowly and sighed. “Yani, I knowwwwww. My damn hot water went out again!” She pointed her phone to show Yasin in the bathroom. “Oooooh, damn girl, I know it’s some other pipes that he can fix in that lonely ass apartment of yours.” Yani pointed at Syd’s lower extremities. Syd scoffed and rushed her off the phone, “I’LL BE AN HOUR LATE, BYE BITCH.” beep beep beep. 

The line went dead. For sure, Yasin heard what her obnoxious best friend said about her box, she threw her phone on the bed and tiptoed into the bathroom. Once she reached the doorway, Yasin turned around and slightly jumped. “Oh, I just finished up here, ma. I apologize, my Uncle was supposed to fully replace this pipe when he came here last month. He came in the week before he retired, I guess he got lazy and patched it up.” Syd crossed her arms as he stood up and flashed his million dollar smile, “It should be good now.” Syd is all about details. Being a fashion merch graduate, it’s in her nature. She scanned over his dark chocolate frame, the vain in his lower arm bulging out, the tattoos covering the areas above it. She skimmed up to his face. Well, his full lips. The bottom slightly larger than the top. Now formed into a slight grin. Her lip twisted to the right in reaction to it. She blinked her way out of her trance. “Okay.” She finally replied. Yasin smirked as he made strides to the front door, making his exit. He stopped at her doorway after opening the door. Syd trailed behind him and stopped in the foyer when he turned. “Hey, uhh..” He held his hand out to Syd. She searched over his extended arm to see the Arabic saying on his arm and read it aloud, “Silence is the interpreter of happiness.” She blinked, looking up at him. “Oh, I’m sorry?” He huffed, “Your name, Miss?” She grabbed his hand and shook, “Syd.” Yasin squinted at the young woman that was quite smaller than him with an attitude of a giant. “You know Arabic?” She nodded, “Moms was from Philly, she was raised Islamic. You?” he stroked his thick goatee and rebutted, “My family is Muslim, My mom was raised baptist but she transitioned when she met my pops, My uncles, brothers, cousins, grands.. They’re all Muslim.” “Alhamdulillah!” Syd chanted as she threw her hands up and chuckled. Yasin couldn’t help but laugh with her, her humor and contagious laugh was simply irresistible. “Well, Syd, I gotta go to my next client..but if you free for a late lunch later..maybe we can chop it up over a nice meal?” Syd stepped closer looking him in the eye, “I can let you know.” She handed him her phone to put his number in it. He started typing away when her phone vibrated twice, signaling that she gotten a message. Yasin paused, then finished typing, smiling the entire time. “Alright Miss Syd. Later.” He began his descent to the hallway door. Syd closed her front door, and ran to the shower.

--

Syeda ran down 125th Street to cross over St. Nicholas Ave to get to St. Nick Park. Stumbling past bystanders and bikers on the pavement with a thousand things in her hand with her hair blowing wherever the wind takes it, Syd finally makes it to the meeting spot that her and Yani agreed to host the meeting. She placed her things with her personal assistant, Myles, who is a big ball of fabulousness; Always dependable and has an incredible fashion sense. Yani looked at Syd as if she was a bat flying out of hell and quickly flattened Syd’s curly tresses back to frame her face. She was beginning to look like cousin It. Syd thanked her girl for the assist, “Do I look okay?” Yani assessed. Syd was in a rush, but she picked a black long sleeved crop turtleneck, high waisted light denim mom jeans, and leather knee high boots. She accompanied the outfit with her childhood gold personalized “Syd” necklace and “Syeda” one finger ring, along with her new Off-White yellow label belt. Yani nodded as she looked up to her face. Syd had no time to put on makeup, but she threw on a red ombre lip, lashes, and liner; black at the top, white at the bottom to accentuate her almond eyes. Yani smiled in agreeance. “Yes bitch. You look good!” Syd breathed a sigh of relief as Yani took a seat on the bottom step of “Sentra”, the exhibit from Harlem Studio Museum that she dubbed the perfect meeting spot for the occasion. 

The crowd of people that had been calmly chatting amongst themselves had gotten quiet and all eyes were on Syd. She cleared her throat, “Hello Everyone, My name is Syeda Mari. I am owner and the creative behind UPTXWN Clothing. As you all know by the flyer..” As she grabbed one from the ever dependable Myles. “..I have a lookbook that I am preparing to drop on Spring Fashion Week in February. As I know, Two months is such a short time to plot a production as big as I am asking for but just based on the turnout I have here, I know it can be done.” “You got this Syd!” Yani’s supportive mom voice sang out. Applause rang out. “But we gotta band together.. Network. Get this premiere party to be the talk of the town. I need my models on point, I need you all to show up to the shoots, leave that ego bullshit at the door. If I put you in it, I don’t care if it’s a water buffalo coat with silk drawls. Make it look like couture.” The hustler in Syd began to come out. She’s all about having fun and turning up, but when it’s time to work, Syd don’t play. Everyone knew it too, from old college professors at Columbia to ex boyfriends who relish at her success that she’s had since graduating. Syd is a go getter. She took a look at her audience from left to right and saw all familiar faces of former colleagues she worked with in her fashion showrunner days, and a couple more from around the way. She smiled at the great turnout and calmed her tone. “I need for the production crew to be on time as well, I book locations by the time. Not by the day. So please. Be on time.” She pointed to her photographer, Iyo. Iyo threw up his prayer hands and bowed. Signaling that he heard her and he don’t want no smoke. “I also need my MUAs to plan the looks. I plan the outfits, Gigi, please plan the faces to go with these bomb ass looks.” Gigi stood up, as colourful as she could be in her loud colored fur coat, “Of course Syd, We gotchu.” As her team nodded in agreeance. “Videography, Semaj..Andy..Lon, We need to set up a meeting after this to talk visuals.” Andy tilted his head upward to let Syd know that he heard her. 

“And last but not least, my PR agent. My amazingly amazing best friend. Ayana. Girl. I need you to get the best of the best people at this show. I need you to pull this final product all together to help my baby UPTXWN come alive!” Yani wiped a fake tear from her face and ran to hug Syd. “Of course, you know it’s done.” Everyone roared in applause. Syd yelled over it, “Okay everyone thank you for coming out! Leave your email and phone information with Myles and I’ll see you all at the next shoot!” 

The audience began to separate into their own groups. Syd and Yani floated around to each one until they got to the last cluster. Yani had to get back to the office so she dismissed herself, “Girl, Martinez is on my ass about my time! I’ll meet them at the next shoot! BYE BITCH!” Syd sucked her teeth. Yani knew she hated extracurricular socializing. 

She made her way over to the group to see Ziggy, a renowned photographer. Even though he works for CNN, he liked fashion photography and was looking to expand his portfolio with the lookbook. Two men and a woman accompanied him. “Zig! Thank you for coming out! Or who I gotta thank at CNN?” She queried, completely joking. Ziggy sarcastically responded, “You can thank Anthony Bourdain for giving me the week off, but I’ll be in Berlin next Thursday.” “Oh, you know your landlord is going next week too? Maybe you two could finally get to know each other, trade war stories.” Syd made small talk with him for a while, discussing a couple of his many travels and he explained that his job is why he’s in the studio across the hall, because he’s rarely home anyway. 

Syd nodded in agreeance as she looked around to observe everyone else he was with. “I’m sorry everyone. Nice to meet you. I’m Syeda. Zig is my neighbor. And you all are?” The woman introduced herself first. She had a pecan tan tone and  a short tapered curly cut. She was 5’9”, thick stature yet barely had a midsection so she was athletic. “Nina.” They shook hands. “I heard you needed models, I’ve modeled for Stussy, American Apparel, Yeezy..Zig told me about your line. I love how you repping Harlem. I gotta be a part of this.” “Glad to have you join us Nina, thank you.” The guy next to her spoke, “Uh..Hello. Im Byron, friends call me B. I work in IT, I do editing on the side. If your videography team needs an editor, I’m available.” Syd nodded, “As a matter of fact, that’s exactly what they need. I’m meeting with them next week, I’ll text you the details.” B smiled and thanked her. Ziggy introduced the last person, “Oh Sy, (Zig was the ONLY person besides her parents to call her that) this is Erik. My cousin. Syd blinked and looked up to his 6’0” frame. She blinked and looked at his face length dreads. She blinked and noticed his mustache, goatee and his thick plump lips. She licked her lips and slightly opened her mouth and before she could speak and introduce herself, that annoying baritone that she heard hours ago rang back up. “Ohhhh.. You the biddy that ran into me. You know, I could’ve been hurt.” he said, putting his hand above his heart. He was completely being dramatic. Syd rolled her eyes in disgust. “You’re a big boy. I’m sure you’ll be fine.” Erik stepped up to her, she noticed a slight gleam in his eyes, “Yeah, I am a big boy.” he grinned and sized her up. “Zig, get your cousin, before I really hurt him.” She squinted her eyes at her last three words. Erik didn’t move one inch away from her. He took her hand, kissed it, and returned with,  “Hurt me, baby.” She scoffed and her hand dashed across his face. “OUCH! MY NAIL!” Syd drew her hand back and noticed that the tip of her red coffin shaped nail was on the ground. Which would’ve been okay if her nails were painted red. They were black. Her finger was bleeding.

--

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[holdyourbreathfornow]

Midnight in the Caffeine Aisle

Person in the distance:  “Queenie, how gay are you for @the-pastel-peach?”

Me:  “I wrote an AU snippet.  And that’s just scratching the surface of the gay-berg.”

It’s midnight on Wednesday and Peach is reading behind her cash register.  She had argued with Dennis that she had to study but he’d just scoffed and told her she could study between customers.  Even now, the memory made her angry and she turned the page in her book with more force than was probably necessary.  

She was distracted, however, when there was a loud crash from Aisle 3 (the pasta aisle) and she sighed, stepping out from behind the counter and grabbing a broom.

Down the aisle, there was a girl who appeared to be slightly younger than Peach, with frizzy blonde hair pulled back in a messy bun, dressed in a hoodie, jeans, and black glasses.  She was scribbling in a notebook and her writing only paused when Peach cleared her throat.  Simultaneously, the girl’s gaze snapped up as she closed her notebook.

“If you’re here for the noise, I tripped.”  Peach could see that this was true, since the girl’s knees were dirtier than the rest of her, but other than that, the girl looked completely unaffected by her fall.

“Are... You gonna buy something?”

“Nah.”  The girl slid her pen into her bun and smiled at Peach.  “This is just the quietest aisle in the store.”

“Well, we’re closing up, so...”

“Oh!  I need to leave, huh?”  The girl smiled again and shyly brushed a fly-away strand of hair back behind her ear.  “Well, sorry for bugging you.”

“Ah... No, it’s really no trouble!”  Peach cursed her stumble, but the girl didn’t comment on it, instead nodding to herself.

“Well... Thanks!”  And with that, the cute girl was gone, leaving Peach standing surrounded by noodles and holding a shop broom, wondering if she had hallucinated the entire thing.

-

It was a week later, earlier by about an hour, when Peach caught the girl as she came into the store, better dressed in a flannel and a knitted beanie that let her blonde hair curl out from under it near her ears, slurping on a milkshake.  The girl noticed Peach waving and went to wave, her eyes widening comically when she realizes she’s waving with the hand holding a milkshake, quickly switching to the other hand.

“You need anything tonight?”  Peach asked as the girl walked over and hid a smile when she nodded.

“A name for a duck.”  The request puzzled Peach and she stared at the girl as the younger hauled herself onto Peach’s conveyor belt and stretched out casually.  “I was thinking... Lady Quackers.”

“Or Lord Bill.”  Peach giggled, but the girl just leaned her head back and smiled at her softly, which made heat rush to Peach’s face.  The girl shyly readjusted her beanie before she took a deep breath.

“Um... I’m Queenie.”

“Peach.”

“Yeah, I know.”  Queenie pointed at Peach’s name tag and there was a moment of silence before they both burst into laughter.  “Sorry, that sounded so rude!”

“No, I forgot I was wearing a name tag, it’s fine.”  Peach smiled at Queenie, who instantly went red.  “Hey, are you okay?”

“Yeah, just-“  Queenie flapped her hands instead of continuing her sentence and Peach nodded in understanding as she locked her cash register up.

“Well, it’s time for me to leave, so-“

“Can I walk you out?”  Queenie interrupted and she seemed pleased when Peach laughed and nodded.  “Thanks.”

“Well, thank you.”  Peach craned her head back to look at the stars as she and Queenie stood in the parking lot.  “Geez, it really is late, huh?”

“Yeah.”  Peach could see Queenie curling a strand of her own hair around her finger repeatedly and she watched the younger girl silently.  “So would it be rude to ask you to dinner?”

“I don’t think it would be rude.  You seem nice, and who knows?  We can’t unless we try.”

“Great!”  Queenie was full on beaming now and she winked at Peach as she adjusted her beanie.  “I have a feeling we’ll be just fine.”  With that, she rushed off into the night, leaving Peach smiling by herself.

“Yeah... Me too.”

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