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loveinhawkins · 1 year

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i’ve recently become aware of this starcourt mall commercial & i’m dying at the thought of Eddie seeing it, bored out of his mind, until Steve appears on screen with that stupid sailor’s hat and the world’s most awkward, “Ahoy!”, and, oh, Eddie’s grin is evil.

“Why did you tape over Dallas?” Wayne asks that night.

“Wayne,” Eddie says solemnly, “I needed to record the best moment of my life.”

Of course, Steve finds the tape later, because the universe likes to laugh at Eddie, apparently.

Spring Break of ‘86 is a few weeks away—thanks to one distracted moment, Eddie unknowingly puts the wrong tape in the case before returning a rental to Family Video, then speeding off to band practice.

Steve doesn’t notice the mixup until a few hours later, when he routinely opens the VHS cases to check that the tapes have been rewound. When he sees the tape devoid of any movie sticker, he can’t resist watching it; his shift is dragging by.

He gets 20 minutes into Dallas before it cuts off, and the commercial plays.

His jaw drops, and he groans in embarrassment, but he’s laughing when he calls for Robin in the back room, and then they’re watching it together, cracking up. They both remember filming it, remember looking at each other and swearing to never speak of it again, but they’d never actually seen it, and well… it is pretty funny.

Steve gets an evil grin of his own when he sees that the rental account is in Eddie’s name.

When he calls, he gets Mr. Munson on the phone, and because Steve can also be a meddling little shit when the conditions are right, he makes up some story about the store having new forms, that he just needs Eddie to sign one quickly.

The next day, Eddie strolls in, and Steve looks him right in the eye.

“Ahoy, Munson,” he says, deadpan.

Eddie freezes in place. He briefly considers turning around and walking into traffic.

“Harrington,” he says stiffly.

“Hey, man,” Steve says, relentlessly chipper, “so we’re kinda down on one copy of—” He glances over to the computer. “—Life of Brian, and up one copy of, uh…” He lifts Eddie’s tape off the counter, smirks. “I guess, half of Dallas.”

Eddie stalks over. “It was… for school,” he blurts out unconvincingly. “Recording Hawkins history. Nothing personal, King Steve.”

Steve lets the venom in the nickname bounce off him. “Starcourt was pretty, uh, historic,” he says mildly, fighting another smirk.

“Whatever,” Eddie snaps, losing what little patience he has left—despite all of his performances to the contrary, the thought of people laughing at him still makes his skin crawl. “Let me get out of your massive hair, Harrington, and I’ll bring your fucking video back.”

Steve raises one hand, palm out. “Woah, chill,” he says, and as Eddie’s nostrils flare, he feels a little twinge of guilt; he didn’t actually mean for all of this to come across as mean-spirited or anything. “Sorry, man. I’m not trying to be a dick, I swear.”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “Could’ve fooled me.” But he looks a little calmer, raises an eyebrow. Well?

“Here,” Steve says, handing over the tape, and he doesn’t react when Eddie snatches it back. “Oh, and I extended the rental on your movie.” He shrugs. “Saves you a double trip, y’know?”

“Thanks,” Eddie says, after a pause.

“No biggie.” And when Eddie makes to leave, Steve calls, “Hey, Munson?”

Eddie turns at the door, no longer quite as cagey. “What?”

Steve shrugs again. “Thanks for the mixup, I guess?”

“You’re kidding,” Eddie says flatly.

“No, I mean it, dude. Like, once I got over the, well, embarrassment of, um, everything, it was actually kinda… nice to see it.” He nods to Robin in one of the aisles, guiding a customer over to a movie. “Me and Robin, we—it was nice to have something about Starcourt that we could laugh at.”

Eddie considers him. “Were you in the fire?”

Steve smiles, and if Eddie didn’t know any better, he’d say there’s more than straightforward sadness on his face. “Yeah, got caught up in it.”

Eddie slowly, thoughtfully, opens the door but doesn’t leave, leans against it. He looks Steve up and down. “Damn shame you don’t have a hat in your get-up here, Harrington.”

Steve mock scowls, ruffles his hair. “I’m not suffering through that again.”

Eddie finds himself smiling without meaning to. “You poor thing. I guess once is enough.”

And Steve rolls his eyes this time. “Yeah, yeah, once. You’ve goddamn immortalised it, Munson.”

Eddie snorts. “Oh, but I had to,” he says, tucking the tape under his arm, “for posterity. In a hundred years, there’ll be sonnets written about your sailor outfit, Steve Harrington.”

And, whoops, that wasn’t planned, Eddie thinks. Laying it on a bit thick there.

Steve laughs, but not at him; Eddie can tell now. “Go enjoy your Saturday, Munson.”

Eddie gives a lazy salute. “Ahoy.”

And as Eddie leaves, he spots a note on the counter, next to the usual Be kind, rewind reminders. It’s handwritten, with a cartoony winking face: And check what’s inside!

#this was meant to be a shitpost and become a fic woops #pre steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steve x eddie

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drdocttor · 9 months

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been on a dutch van der sadness roll hes kinda eating my brian and also hes nice to look at

post-guarma crying about hosea hours

#red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 fanart #dutch van der linde

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crushedsweets · 6 months

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How would the other pastas/proxies react if Toby died during a mission?

Writing on my phone in the car 10 mins before my shift forgive me… finished during my lunch break…

Tim would try really really fucking hard to pretend he doesn’t care all that much. He’s already lost plenty of friends/colleagues (directly or indirectly) to the operator and slenderman, and he always treated Toby like he was a pain in the ass, but like. Him and Brian took Toby in when he was just 17-18, he tried to make him a better man, the two of them have done abhorrent shit together and had to return to the cabin like nothing happened. He’d cry, spend long hours thinking about Toby, thinking about how much of a dick he was to the kid. But he’s strong . Kinda

Brian wouldn’t try to pretend he doesn’t care, although he is in a very similar boat to Tim. Took him in, guided him, hurt him - he would probably be the one to set up a grave of some sort for Toby, whether or not they even have his body to bury. The rest of them wouldn’t be able to do it

It’s possible that Kate wouldn’t even find out for a long fucking while. But she would cry, and mourn, and she would start going back to the cabin and she would sleep in the attic (Toby’s room) and it would be shitty. Toby was the only proxy to treat her like a person and they were both outcasts in their own right, both being the closest to perfect vessels slenderman/the operator could get . So it would suck ass.

I think Natalie would just die too. Ok not really but he was the first person to really just. Take care of her. And she really trusted that he would never ever leave her, not like everyone else . She would be angry, pissed beyond belief and she would cry and scream and throw around any of the gifts he’s ever gotten her and smash some shit he’s made her - and it wouldn’t be fair, and she would regret it, and hopefully someone would be there to pull her back before she legitimately fucks it all up, but she can’t get rid of that anger. Like Kate, she would go to the cabin. Being there too long gets her really bad slender sickness, she’s not immune like the others, but she doesn’t really care. Everything hurt so bad anyway, the screaming and crying already brought her nausea and migraines. Her and Kate would just silently lounge around his bedroom for hours everyday. Natalie is a tattoo artist with little to no tattoos bc commitment issues is a big thing for her, but she would get a little something to honor Toby

Jack would mourn . Toby used to bring flowers to his mom for Mother’s Day, because Jack couldn’t bare to be in a 10 mile radius of his family. He would try to host something for people, just invite them over and make some food and try to talk and have comfort. Only Natalie and Nina would come by choice, not because the rest don’t care but it’s just something they can’t handle to do. Kate might get dragged along. It would be painful and uncomfortable and probably just result in an argument of sorts, depending on how far along Natalie is in the grieving process . He would visit the grave Brian made for toby quite often.

Nina would be constantly crying, all the time. She’s had shitty men after shitty men in her life, the only good guys she’s had were her father and brother and she went ahead and left them behind to go seek out Jeff - but Toby was good(to a point, obviously). He was rough around the edges but he was protective, he took care of her, he defended her even if she didn’t deserve it. She and Natalie would probably have a few intense arguments because they’re two sides of the same coin in their grieving , with Natalie having constant explosive anger and Nina having long, drawn out grieving and sobbing. It would be a bit much for both of them. She would mope around her apartment for a long while.

BEN would also be pretty sad, but not nearly as much as the rest. He would talk it out with Jeff but wouldn’t cry, wouldn’t mourn , would just keep going. Jeff wouldn’t give a shit, would say it was bound to happen and to move on

Ann and Lulu would be pretty bummed out too, but Ann moves on pretty quickly. For Ann it’s more so a sad “Aw but he was fun”… lulu is too lost in her own head to spend too much time on it, but she’s undeniably sad when she’s reminded

Sally would also be sad, but similarly to BEN, she would move on. Cry to Jane about it and cope. Jane would think it’s sad, but she wouldn’t dwell on it either - she wasn’t close to him, she only knew him in passing whenever Sally got lost in the forest.

Liu doesn’t know Toby well so he wouldn’t think much, but Nina would cry to Liu about it a lot and it would be pretty depressing for him too. Just by watching how it affects Nina

#creepypasta #ticci toby #toby rogers #Masky #hoody #creeped #clockwork #natalie oullette #natalie ouellette #Nina the killer #Kate the chaser #I don’t think I wanna tag everyone I’m lazy #asks

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sweetandabitspycho · 8 months

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Tej Parker x Reader

Warnings: bad writing, sad/comfort. First time doing a sad/comfort so be nice please.

“Why?" Tej asked trying to stay calm, but he was getting more aggravate. I was trying not to start a fight. Really I was. He stood blocking me from leaving.

"Because I need to get away." I said keeping an even voice. He looked hurt. He should. He needs to feel what I have been feeling. "From me? Why?" His voice cracked. "You haven't been honest with me. You are hiding something from me and I don't trust you completely really now." I said in a whisper. It hurt to say, but it was true. He was spending hours with his ex, to the point he was coming home at 5am.

"I can explain everything baby." His voice killed me. It was sad and broken. As if I had hit him. I wanted to die. I shook my head no. Too scared I would stay and break down.

"It's not want it looks like. Please!" He was about to cry. "No. Not right now. I can't." I said as he moved out of the way for me to walk out.

"I'm so sorry honey." Mia said cuddling into my side. "It's okay. I'll be okay." There was a knock on the bedroom door. "Come in." Mia said before Brian popped in with ice cream in hand. He gently kisses my head. "If you want I can shoot him, or have him shoot. I still have cop friends." He said laughing lightly, I couldn't bring myself to laugh but I said a no but thank you with a small smile.

After a while Mia left. I finally felt like I could cry.

It felt as if someone riped out my heart. I though we would be together until death and even then we would still be together. I thought he was it. The one.

I hugged the stupid stuffed bear he gave me. No, it wasn't making me feel better, I can't sleep without him. I felt safe with him. I pull my knees to my chest trying to get some sleep.

The next day.

I woke up to the sun peaky through the curtain. Rubbing my eyes I grabbed my phone to see the time. 12am, great lunch time. I saw I had five texted for Tej

Tej❤️ I'm sorry love it's not what it seems.

Tej❤️ I promise. I see how it can look like I'm cheating but I'm not.

Tej❤️ please just let me explain.

Tej❤️ I would never hurt you. I would die before please believe me.

Tej❤️ please just come meet me at our spot at 4. It will explain everything.

Our spot was a roof of an abandonment build. Maybe I should go. Should I go? What if it doesn't fix anything but brakes us more.

Before I could completely overthink going I got up off the bed and took a shower.

After I went down stairs to see Mia. She gave me a sad smile as she asked if I wanted coffee. I took it before telling her about Tej texting asking me to go at 4. She said I should and I agree with her. I should.

At 3pm I started to get dressed in a pair of shorts and a shirt that once belonged to Tej. At 3:20 I decided to head out after saying a quick goodbye. It only took 20 minutes to get there.

I started to climb up the four story building. It didn't take long to get to the top. That's when I saw it.

Tej stood at the table we had brought up for us, he was placing roses everywhere. He continued to place things on the table before I could tell him I was there he turned around.

He smiled at me, before walking towards me. "Please just let me explain, if you still want to break up I'll be okay. Just please let me explain." He said in a rush. I used to love it when he did that, but now It just made me want to hug him and tell him it's okay.

He took my silence as an answer then he started to explain. "I was not cheating. I know what it looks like but she was just helping me pick out your ring. I wanted to get the perfect ring and I didn't tell you I wanted it to be a surprise and I had it custom made for you, so please believe me." He said it so fast I almost didn't hear him. I hugged him before kissing him.

"I'm so sorry. I'm sorry I thought that." I said hugging him tighter he gently pulled back before talking. "It's okay. I understand, I didn't realize how bad it looked until it was too late. I would have thought that too." I said getting on one knee. "Now will you please marry me?" I got down to his level before kissing him. "Of course! I love you so much!!"

#fast x #fast and furious headcanons #fast and furious x reader #fast and the furious #fast x reader #fast and furious #tej parker x reader #tej parker

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scoobydoodean · 5 months

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Thinking about 4.11 “Family Remains” and how Dean keeps insisting to Brian (the dad) that he will save Brian’s family—that he will put himself at risk for them and he will find Danny.

Eventually, Brian asks Dean straight up why he cares so much—why he's willing to put himself at such risk for them. Dean doesn’t get to answer.

We know from the start of the episode that Dean has been hunting non-stop to cope with his trauma. That's made pretty obvious at the beginning of the episode:

SAM: What are you doing? DEAN: What's it look like I'm doing? SAM: Like you're looking for a job. DEAN: Yahtzee. SAM: We just finished a job like two hours ago. DEAN: Adrenaline's still pumping, I guess. So, what do you think... Cedar Rapids, Tulsa, or Chi-Town? SAM: I am all for working. I really am. But you got us chasing cases nonstop for like a month now. We need sleep. DEAN: Yeah, we can sleep when we're dead. SAM: You're exhausted, Dean. DEAN: I'm good. SAM: No, you're not. You're running on fumes, and you can't run forever. DEAN: And what am I running from? SAM: From what you told me. Or are we pretending that never happened?

We've seen this behavior from Sam before too—Sam pushing back to back hunts in 1.19-1.20 to cope with his anger, and in 2.11 (due to guilt over Ava) and in 2.19 to deal with Madison's death, and in 3.11 to deal with Dean's (temporary) death. We'll see it in the future too—the brothers displaying a need to work to get through something.

So it’s easy to say Dean is simply pushing himself to "be the hero" in 4.11 because of guilt about Hell and leave it at that. I do think Dean believes in atonement (we get hints about this in 4.05), but I think the reason Dean insists on being the person to jump down in the first hole they find instead of Ted, and then insists on going down the second compartment to find Danny when Brian is ready to do it, is also because Dean has a feeling they're going to have to kill this girl, and however scary she may be—however violent—she's also a victim of horrific abuse, and taking a life is always a serious thing. So Dean's trying to spare Brian from that trauma.

Dean doesn’t want Brian to have to take a life and (no matter how justified the kill) feel like a monster. Dean already does feel like a monster (no matter how justified his actions were, no matter how understandable it was because it was born from decades of torture... he still feels and deals with terrible guilt). So Dean takes on the highest risks and puts himself on the front line, upping the chance that if anyone has to do any killing tonight, it'll be him.

Dean does end up killing the boy in the walls in self defense, and the camera focuses on Dean staring at his body as Sam enters, while a sad theme plays in the background, and then we get this look from Dean:

This is the first time in the series that either brother kills a human (besides a demon meatsuit) and a teenager at that, so there's a special weight to it.

But Brian still ends up killing the girl in the walls immediately after this, and that scene is one of the more horrifying ones, because it's shot in a way that casts Brian as the monster lurking in the dark.

Earlier in the episode, we establish the horror of the anticipation of having ones legs grabbed.

DEAN finds a hole in the floor and looks through. TED: You're not going down there. DEAN: Well, do you want to? TED says nothing. DEAN starts down. DEAN: Please nobody grab my leg. Please nobody grab my leg.

And when Brian attacks the girl in the walls, from the perspective of his wife Susan and his daughter Kate, all we see is the girl suddenly get dragged out into the dark by the legs.

Then we focus on Susan and Kate as they listen in terror to the sound of her screaming as she's stabbed over and over and over.

When Brian knocks on the door they jump and scream.

After Susan opens the door for Brian, she backs away from him almost warily.

They see the knife—the blood on his hands and clothes.

Brian saved them, but he's shot as the monster who reaches out and grabs you by the legs. We cast the girl in the walls as a smaller monster (ultimately just a child who can easily be overpowered) snatched up in the jaws of a much bigger fish. All despite the fact that Brian did what he had to do.

SAM: You okay? DEAN: You know, I felt for those sons of bitches back there. Lifelong torture turns you into something like that. SAM: You were in hell, Dean. Look, maybe you did what you did there, but you're not them. They were barely human. DEAN: Yeah, you're right. I wasn't like them. I was worse.

#4.11 #season 4 #pk rewatches spn number ?#i carved you into a new animal #dean and introspection

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agendabymooner · 5 months

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odds || pg10 fic

“I’m never giving up against all odds.”

pierre gasly x ofc (88rising!singer!ofc)

EXTENSION TO NEWSFLASH (SEQUEL OF) AND LOWKEY (PREQUEL OF)

Summary: Her songs told a story about how her courtship with Pierre Gasly went and ended in a happy note. OR their timing wasn't always right— that was what she thought as she continued to think that their situationship’s downfall would happen sooner or later.

Content warning: Based on Niki’s EP, wanna take this downtown. No specific date is used for the release of her music. Use of explicit language, situationship scenarios, miscommunication, OFC being set up, Pierre being a dry texter, only uses a partner’s name (nothing too personal- just a passing comment), a bit angst but has a happy ending (?), indented texts are lyrics

Note: I’m not sure if my taglist would like to read this but I’m adding them into the list just in case :)) enjoy xx

a - n masterlist

o - z masterlist

if you’d like to get on one of my taglists, check this post out

This has got to be a joke. The universe fuckin’ hates my guts. Remindin’ me ‘U’ and ‘I’ don’t spell ‘us.’

To Pesky Pierre (Respectful): Heeeey!!! My brain is soooo fried today and Brian decided to fuck up my computer. Now I’m just here doing nothing but hope that my dear tech works in the next hour. Sent at 10:21 PM

To Pesky Pierre (Respectful): How r u??? I hope you’re not training too hard and you’re hydrating :) Sent at 10:25 PM

From Pesky Pierre (Respectful): Good morning, Ens. Have 2 train sadly ttyl ;) Sent at 8:31 AM

Well wasn’t that fucking sad, Ensley huffed out quietly to herself as she wished to throw her phone against the wall. They’ve been in what… two dates?

Well, two in-person dates and three unofficial FaceTime dates with shitty takeouts in front of them. Not that she counted; she could have sworn she did not like him that much.

She wasn’t sure who she was lying to more, though. But just as she continued to deny that she hadn’t looked at her phone every thirty seconds, she was feeling more pathetic.

What was it about men and why did she continue to give them all a chance? All they do was fuck it up and Ensley was going insane at the thought that the cycle of being with the shittiest men ever wasn’t broken.

“All I know is suddenly without you, the bed feels too big… That’s good. Good job Henny.”

“Trying to find where your head is but I’m losing myself in the process— no wait, tryna,” she muttered to herself before scratching out the first word of her chorus.

She thought that songwriting was a way to distract herself from the Pierre fiasco. Everyone said so, as well. They thought that if she kept her head straight she’d be able to think of inspiration and clearly they were right.

Her friends, Brian and Joji, were laughing at the fact that the said inspiration was the same person they tried to distract her from.

Pierre Gasly. The man who continued to travel as the Formula One season went on while Ensley remained in Los Angeles. Pierre was the man that the Indonesian woman had been thinking about day after day, his charming personality filling that empty space in her head after he asked if she’d be more than willing to take their relationship to the next level.

He did warn her about his busy schedule, which Ensley was grateful for. What he hadn’t told her, though, was that he’d eventually drive her insane because of the lack of texts he’d send as time went on— all thanks to his schedule.

The first month of their situationship was great. He managed to call her and asked if she had supper or whatever meal it was she had to eat in her time zone. He’d often eat his food just as she’d munch on whatever she had that day— sharing conversations while they took a break from whatever the fuck they were doing.

Hell, Ensley also managed to take the international railways to Rome to meet with him. They were getting along so well that she cuddled with him in his bed twice.

But in the second month? Fuck, she wasn’t sure anymore. Perhaps it was because it’s the last month of the racing season and everybody’s scrambling to make their way up to the World Driver’s Championship rankings— that included the Frenchman.

She could understand how busy it is for Pierre and she did what she could to not hover around him. But she was missing him terribly— him and his sex jokes and his never ending storytelling. What could she do? Nothing. She didn’t have any form of label but a situationship with him.

“You come see me only when I ask first. When you kiss me— do you wish it were her?”

“—That’s bullshit,” Brian exclaimed as he stood by the oven of Ensley’s open kitchen. Ensley glared at him, and her friend (Brian’s girlfriend) Vanntey smacked him lightly as a warning. Brian gave his girlfriend a questioning look and stated, “Boy Baguette didn’t even kiss her yet! Henny, don’t put that in if this song is about Pierre. That’s just full on delusional.”

“Who says it’s about him?” Vanntey asked with a scoff before telling Ensley, “Henny— your song, not Brian’s. Do whatever the hell you want.”

“At least someone’s sensible enough,” Ensley murmured before turning back to her notepad. Her Twitter notification, one that she intentionally left opened, made a noise as she glanced down at the “related tweet” notification. The post and the responses that came with it were… baffling to say the least.

We share different postal codes Maybe that’s why I never got the memo; She’s the real deal, and I was just a pretty demo.

ensleygaslysoz: y’all— pierre’s ex was at the paddock today 😭😭

peargaslit: nooooo~ YOU CANNOT SAY THAT!!! IM ROOTING FOR HIM AND HENNY!!!

misskikagasly: ok but they were cute as hell b4 tho 🫠 no h8 to ensley but kika was the shit and i think they should get back together

Ensley’s shoulders slumped at the comments. God’s timing was always wrong, and she’s never hated anything more than the fact that she was actually besotted and in love with Pierre Gasly.

And chances are that he was just waffling about taking their relationship to another level. Men lied to Ensley endlessly, and if she didn’t know any better— she would’ve fallen harder than she did with him.

And yet my world remains the whole of you to this day. Doesn’t matter what my location says. I’m always tryna get to you.

From Pesky Pierre (Respectful): Are you going to be in London sometime soon? I will be back in Milan and I’d like to stay in with you :) Text me when you get this Sent at 12:31 AM

To Pesky Pierre (Respectful): Can’t. Sorry— Still in the process of producing an EP :) looking forward to chatting soon Sent at 12:32 AM

From Pesky Pierre (Respectful): Likewise. Sent at 2:01 AM

When I'm there, you're not You're here, I'm caught up with my job And your clingy ex comes back a lot Then she leaves and you shoot your shot But there's someone new I've got

The 88rising studio was where she stayed most of the time now. With the record label releasing an album with their artists, Ensley’s time was taken up by her work as she continued to produce four songs with them.

That and her own EP took up her entire schedule, thus furthering her communication line with the Alpine driver.

So much for a good situationship.

“You wrote this song, Hen,” Isaac — one of the songwriters — told her with a shrug, “he lives in Milan, right? Instead of, I mean, Manhattan’s nice, why don’t you put, Milan is nice?”

“They have good sunsets in NY,” she murmured quietly. “Look— let’s not talk about him. He’s got his business— this is mine.”

“Your EP so far shows that you’re writing about him,” Isaac replied. “By the way, you’ve got one more to write if you want to have four tracks.”

“Eventually,” Ensley responded with a wave, her shoulders sagging before her sight moved from the screen of her laptop to the door that swung open.

Brian walked in with a shit-eating grin, he was followed by Jackson Wang who carried, Ensley could’ve sworn, the biggest bouquet that could’ve ever existed. And just as Jackson walked towards her with a huge smile, her eyes scanned the set and the white card that contrasted with it.

Dahlias and daisies. She never even mentioned it to anyone before.

Then she remembered a conversation she had about flower markets. She loved Los Angeles, but she couldn’t help but swoon over those Pinterest boards full of flower markets in Italy.

She tried to romanticize her life in the UK before, but when she flew out to Milan once to see the beauty of it? Nothing could compare to Italy. She remembered telling Pierre that— how she’d kill to have the prettiest flowers in her flat that came straight from the market.

“What kind of flowers do you like, then?” Pierre asked, amused at the sight of her swooning as she continued to squeal at the photo.

“If I were to get my photos taken like this? Ugh,” Ensley grinned from ear to ear, “daisies? There’s just something about daisies that makes me think of I dunno… summer? I love the sun— I’m sure you can understand that. You live in Milan.”

“I do.”

“And what else? Huh… Dahlia!” Ensley exclaimed. “It’s just a nice name, no?”

“I agree,” Pierre said thoughtfully before repeating the word, “dahlia, dahlia, dahlia… It’s a pretty name, indeed.”

À la plus jolie fille, was intricately written on the envelope as her stomach fluttered at the name. He always called her that for whatever reason, and she eventually learned why.

“Pretty girl,” Ensley translated the writing as she thanked Jackson, holding the bouquet before placing it down on the table. Her hand eventually grabbed onto the card and pulled out the letter. She didn’t care about her friends as they watched her expectantly.

Her eyes remained on the letter.

“My Collette,

This is not bought to make up for my absence, but to remind you that you are as cherished as the bright flowers in this bouquet. I hope you’re taking care of yourself, ma jolie fille.

While I cannot speak to you, I’ll continue to think about you.

XO,

Your Linguini.”

“Your— your Linguini?!” Jackson gasped from behind her, making her turn around as she watched Brian wheeze in laughter.

The glare that she gave the two left Jackson to shut his mouth and Brian to continue his teasing. Regardless of what the singer just watched, Jackson shook himself out of his thoughts and asked, “Are you gonna text him?”

But she already did. Long before Jackson could even comment.

Her eyes scanned on the text message she sent Pierre, knowing full well that he wouldn’t text back a minute or so later.

To Pesky Pierre (Respectful): They’re the prettiest. Thank you, Remy ❤️ Sent at 3:21 PM.

'Cause I know you've got somebody My friends say I could have anybody now that I'm somebody But I don't care if I'm nobody to you, oh

She sighed, not knowing if it was out of contention or sadness. All she was getting from him so far was mixed messages, with him having his ex in the paddock and sending the flowers.

He seemed to be happy to be around his ex, and she was still nobody to him but some person he wasn’t really in a relationship with.

Maybe she should try to shift her attention away from him. Maybe she wouldn’t think a lot about him that way.

And that was what she did. She stayed in London for a week or so after her other single with 88rising, La La Lost You, was released. She hung out with Will Lenney and his mates.

She found herself sitting between Harry Lewis (or Wroetoshaw for those he didn’t know well) and Becky James. Harry was newly single and everyone tried to set him up with anyone with a pair of boobs; Ensley was sadly the newest target of their interest.

But between the two of them, Ensley and Harry’s “not so friendly” interactions were nothing but banters. They wouldn’t hesitate to tell each other that they’d kiss each other on the mouth but they wouldn’t dare let their jokes go as far as touching each other with a ten-foot pole.

Regardless, everyone tried to root for them and getting too drunk meant trouble. Everyone saw what they wanted to see, immediately pulling their phones out to make a post or more about the two as Ensley and Harry cuddled up in the booth.

“Why do you let the bloody idiot win, Ens?” Harry whined against the ear of the singer, ranting about Pierre as the Guernsey man continued, “I saw the tweets you know? You’re as much of a somebody as he is— don’t let the bloody cunt ruin your life.”

“Too late, Harold,” Ensley slurred, sipping on her third sangria of the night. She and Harry didn’t even notice Becky nor their other friend Callum recording their interaction in the background, for the two of them were busy bitching to each other. “He’s ruined me- as in ruined me the moment I went to the bloody Grand Prix in Singapore. In a good way though!”

“Ruin you in a good way,” Harry scoffed, his hand rubbing her back for comfort as he continued, “You’re writing about him. Your fuckin’ EP is all about him— it’s only reserved for those bastards who broke your heart obviously he’s one of them!”

“No, they’re really not,” Ensley snorted, “my songs are not all about heartbreak nor friends with benefits I fall in love with.”

“Then name one song about loving then.”

I know it's pathetic but I couldn't care less I'd wait until the stars uncross and say yes I'll always try to get you

Silence.

Harry’s drunken state continued to be a factor in his calling out as he raised a brow, “See? You’re a bad fucking liar, Ensley. You love him and you’re yearning— I can see it on your bloody face. So now you’re writing about how much he’s letting you down.”

She pouted in annoyance and slumped against his chest. Pierre didn’t even know how much she yearned for him. At the wrong time, while you’re at it. But she didn’t care.

It’s been nearly a week since they last spoke, and their messages consist of nothing but dry responses and simple check-ins. Was it to ensure that the hope for a successful relationship remains intact or to actually make sure that they still had each other to talk to and that they hadn’t gone and talked to other people? Ensley wasn’t sure.

To Pesky Pierre (Respectful): What are we? Like… really?

From Pesky Pierre (Respectful): Whatever you would like us to be. And hello too?

To Pesky Pierre (Respectful): Hi. And really? We kept on saying that we’d be making plans but they never happened. It’s like I dunno. We’re avoiding each other because we’re always busy.

To Pesky Pierre (Respectful): I know I have to make the effort to come by sometimes, but then… How would you even the odds? I really don’t make an excuse when it comes to heading to London just to take the railways and see you.

To Pesky Pierre (Respectful): I’m not even mad. I’m just saying that my time and heart are yours should they be available. Break my heart as much as you’d like but try to even out these odds— without girls trying to waste your time and mine.

The next day she had woken up with an infuriating headache. Thanks to the sangrias she had and Sambuca shots she was handed, she wasn’t able to get in touch with Pierre as early as she could.

She could, however, strangle Will and the rest of their group for posting those cutesy pictures of herself and Harry while the pair were chatting shit about whatever. Everyone now thought that they were seeing each other.

“WroetoSoleil? Harry, I'm begging you to bag her already!!!” Said one tweet.

“This is a sign that the friends-to-lovers trope is real.”

“Pierre, where you at? Ensley’s being won over by W2S now!”

“I still have some faith in Pierre and Ensley, tbh.”

And to be honest, Ensley was still faithful to the two of them too. It’s only a matter of time before she begins to shift to someone else if neither of them makes a move.

Well… she already made hers. It was his game to play now.

She tried to get on with her day after getting too drunk with her friend’s mates. Her flat in London was surprisingly less than dusty despite being untouched for a while. She supposed that’s what happened when she allowed Will and the other lots to occupy her place whilst she lived in LA.

Then her attention diverted to her notes, writing down lyrics as she sipped on her homemade tea.

She hadn’t even realized that she had Pierre muted — out of annoyance — until her phone began to go off. She peered down only to see an unknown number FaceTiming her.

But it said Monaco at the bottom of the number. She could assume that…

“W- oi! Hello!”

Never in my damn favour I don’t want you for later Never was much of a waiter.

She was right. It was Lando and a certain Monegasque. This number was Charles Leclerc’s and she was subjected to some bullshit that they were up to.

“I’m ending the call—“

“Wait- no! Henny, don’t! We have to talk,” Charles started. They weren’t even close yet he called her Henny. Whatever he was trying to say, he was desperate to get it out before she could end her call.

She sat her phone on the coffee table and crossed her arms, watching the two men scramble as they both sat down.

“We heard about what happened with you and Pierre,” Lando started. “Like how you two haven’t spoken properly and all that…?”

Ensley stared back at them, making the two sigh. They wouldn’t be able to get something out of her and so Charles went on, “He saw that picture and video of you and that guy… What's his name— Harry? Yeah, he saw it and he’s basically just… pouting and all that.”

“Long story short, there’s a lot of miscommunication going on between the two of you,” Lando cut off the Monegasque. “I know you’d never date Harry and we all know that Pierre’s not seeing his ex. The two of you right now are misunderstanding each other— just talk, please. Both of you are sulking and we’re all sick of you two being lovesick and shit.”

“It’s not that easy, you bastard,” Ensley swore, flipping off Lando as she grumbled, “Every time I’m available, he isn’t. Whenever I’m not, he’s coming around asking me to travel to Italy as if I have the money to travel with. I’m not as well off as you guys— and clearly, he isn’t making the same effort as me!”

“How? He’s sent you a lot of flowers,” Charles pointed out. Ensley smothered her face in the cushion and screamed before she turned back to look at her screen with a grim smile.

“You’ve obviously no concept of making an effort without using a material, and it shows,” Ensley snarked.

“It’s just… he’s never asked me if he can stay over in my flat in London before,” she sighed, “it’s always me who has to adjust. I do appreciate it but at the same time… what about me? What if I can’t make it there and he’s still available? Will it stay like that? Just me hoping for some miracle that he’d come by? It’s just… I don’t know. It’s just tiring having to work hard only to end up with nada.”

Lando and Charles shared a worried look. Clearly, they didn’t understand her side of the story until now. It wasn’t as if she was painted as a bad person— they genuinely didn’t know how she and Pierre spoke and how the duo treated each other.

“I’m just so ready to say, ‘Yes, be my boyfriend like I’m begging’ but he’s not there all the time for me to answer it!” Ensley exclaimed in frustration, crossing her arms in annoyance as she slumped against the couch.

“French boy—“

“I’m Monegasque—“

“Monaco boy, tell your best friend that he’s a piece of shit for making me feel like this—“ Ensley said. “God I just want to see him but at the same time I don’t—!”

“Why?”

“Because I know he wouldn’t even these odds no matter how much he wants to,” Ensley chuckled humourlessly. “I don’t even know if he wants to.”

But I’d wait on you to drink you in

Lando almost glanced in front of them, only nodding along at Ensley’s rants. Meanwhile, Charles stared at Pierre with a raised brow.

The Frenchman sighed silently.

He really didn’t want to mess this chance up, but it was too bad some things didn’t like to go in his favour.

Even the odds, indeed.

From Pesky Pierre (Respectful): Hello mon amour, are you still in London? Sent at 8:21 AM.

To Pesky Pierre: Yes… why? Sent at 8:22 AM.

From Pesky Pierre (Respectful): Are you off to somewhere else today? Sent at 8:22 AM.

To Pesky Pierre (Respectful): I— why are you being so cryptic? But no, I’m just staying in. 8:23 AM.

From Pesky Pierre (Respectful): Okay. See you in half an hour :)

When I'm there you should, I don't know, like, call up your boss Probably take the day off Maybe we could change the odds!

Ensley Zara Soleil was never the one for surprises. She loathed them so bad.

But if surprises came in the form of an Alpine driver often then she was willing to welcome it with open arms. Pierre Gasly stood in front of her flat with a bouquet of dahlias and daisies in hand, his smile brightening her day immediately as Ensley smiled like a fool.

She’s never felt this great over a man for a long time.

“I’m here to even the odds,” Pierre told her with a grin before it fell into a serious expression as he said, “I’m really sorry if I haven’t tried to do it before. I was the one who pursued you first and I should’ve tried harder—“

“Shh…”

“Pardon?” Pierre gave Ensley a puzzled look.

And rather than telling to shush once more, Ensley gave him a wide grin and took the bouquet from his hand. The confused look remained on Pierre’s face for a brief moment as she inhaled the scent of the flowers.

“You’re here now, P,” Ensley told him. “I was wondering what you meant by your text but I’ve been expecting you… for a good while.”

Pierre’s confusion was replaced by a wide smile, pushing his shoulders back as he said, “So… where can I start?”

Ensley smiled and stepped aside, allowing him to enter her flat as she said, “Come in and have a cuppa. We’ve got a lot of things to catch-up on.”

Don't care how long it takes, My heart is yours to break I'm never giving up against all odds

fin.

♡ moony’s reminder 🅶 (general): @hiraethrhapsody @avaleineandafryingpan @topguncultleader @enhacolor @roseandtulips @woweewoowa @magnummagnussen @happy-nico

#pierre gasly fluff #pierre gasly imagine #pierre gasly au #pierre gasly fanfic #pg10 #pierre gasly #pierre gasly x oc #pierre gasly fic #formula one fluff #formula one fic #formula one imagine #f1 imagine #formula one x oc #f1 fanfic #formula one hurt/comfort #formula 1

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ceaseless-rambler · 1 year

Text

Being sad about Brian hours

Look I know Stranger isn't about him but still, to have him play the character on the recieving end of "but I find this metal demon, spinning falsehoods into gold" don't do that to him!!! Come on!!!! What if everyone was nice to Brian. What then. What if he was allowed to be happy

#it's always being sad about Brian hours #the mechanisms #drumbot brian

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aihoshiino · 14 days

Text

Episode 3 Rewatch: "Manga Based TV Drama"

YEAH WE'RE BACK ON THESE AGAIN!!! As much fun as the liveblog format was, I found it was actually getting in the way of me *doing* the liveblog (it could take multiple hours for me to watch and queue up One Single Episode) so I've decided to return to a format a bit more like my chapter reviews just in the desperate hopes of getting these actually done before season 2 airs. In the immortal words of Brian H oobh i got plany off time. But let's get to it real quick anyway!!!

I have a really soft spot in my heart for episode 3 in particular because it was the first episode I actually anticipated watching after I got into the show - episodes 1 & 2 were already out when I fully contracted brainworms so episode 3 was the first one I had to actually wait for. A lot of the cuts from it are like carved into my brain because I watched that episode preview so many times while waiting for it to air lol…

I've said this before but the anime's take on her really is what turned me into an active Kana Enjoyer. Megumi Han's delightful performance and her character acting an animation all combine to make it really hard not to be endeared to her. Her excitement at being reunited with Aqua is really cute, too - I remember Han saying that she was specifically told not to play Kana as a girl meeting an old crush but as someone excitedly reuniting with an old friend and I think that's particularly sweet. The AQKN dynamic at its heart is kind of just two lonely kids who don't have a lot of other connections that aren't couched in transactional utility creating a space together where they can just exist without any ulterior motives.

gotanda's words being visualized as literally skewering kana is so fucking funny too. bro killed her. you really can't blame her for biting back during dinner later lol

Kana's putting on a pretty positive face about it, but knowing how deeply alone and abanoned she feels by her parents, it's hard to not feel really sad about this scene. She's chipper about it but this is the first hint towards Kana's current honestly kind of dire circumstances we'll see get expanded on all the way to the end of the anime.

Aqua's refusal to let Kana see his old acting is also really interesting to me. Intentionally or not, it feels like it's sewing the seeds for some stuff in Tokyo Blade; Aqua respects Kana's acting and Kana herself as a professional to the degree that he doesn't want to 'lose' to her in that sense. Or rather, he'd be embarrassed to have someone he respects seeing him stumble like that - a little like Ruby's freakout in episode 1 over the idea of Ai, specifically, seeing her be bad at dancing.

Aqua trying to play it cool and then immediately nerding out when Kana mentions Sweet Today is so so so so soooooooo cute. I love it when that side of his personality pokes out…

KABURAGI NAMEDROP JUMPSCARE!!!!! i made the same face, aqua... I won't go into my Kaburagi Villain Propaganda here, but it really is so deeply suspicious that Kaburashi was on her oldest, most private phone…

KANA'S LITTLE 'I KNOW WHAT YOU ARE' MOMENT………. AQUMELT REAL AFTER ALL…. (NOT CLICKBAIT)

ruby's lain brand milk vexes and haunts me

Aqua's quietly pained, guilty expression when Ruby misreads his intentions for becoming an actor is so good, as is his cold internal dismissal of Ai's wish… it's funny to see him insisting he's not doing this for Ai's sake when really, everything Aqua does comes back to his mom.

Man, though. What even is there to say about the Sweet Today bits lmao. Holy shit. Particular shout out to Melt's seiyuu, Seiji Maeda, for making his in-character acting so authentically awkward and clunky without it coming off as overwrought or like he himself was giving a bad performance. That's suuuuuch a delicate thread to weave but he does it exceptionally well.

This scene also has one of my all time favourite punch ups from the manga - in the original, Ruby just kind of gets the manga from nowhere and makes the comparisons that way but the anime makes Aqua the one to go get his copy and start silently flipping through it to compare until Ruby snatches it… it really is the perfect teeing up for him to run off and tattle to Kana even though he was pretending he didn't give a shit lol. Dork ass boy.

This talk at the karaoke bar is really good, too. The directing is pretty simply but I feel like the anime producton really shows off just how strong its expression and character acting work is here which does a lot to help along what's otherwise a very static conversation. The contrast in Aqua and Kana's energy is also very fun - Aqua's really still while Kana's very animated.

The manga hasn't really touched on this in a while but the content of the conversation here also starts a thread that I really liked in the early parts of Oshi no Ko about how hard it is to create good art in an environment like the entertainment industry. Tokyo Blade centers this more and is almost explicitly a follow up to Sweet Today's exploration of this idea but the seeds are sewn here, of the necessary compromises that need to be made just to get something out the door and how that can ultimately destroy the final product no matter how many well-meaning and passionate people are doing their absolute best to make something worth engaging with.

i'm also pretty sure this talk is the first time we see aqua smile after episode 1… cute.

The directing also really shines in that little moment at the end where Kana grabs Aqua's hand. In prior cuts, the two are visually separated in that they're both sat apart and there are multiple lines running between them in the background to section them off from each other.

But then just as Kana breeches Aqua's defenses and disarms him, she physically reaches past all these little barriers to finally get into his space. It's subtle but well done.

His wide-eyed slightly stunned face is also really sweet. We see this look on Aqua a lot when it comes to Kana and it always makes me smile a bit. She's excellent at getting under his skin whether she means to or not.

"now my body has caught up with my mental age" says aqua, confirming his mental age is that of a teenager, and mfs are still out here acting like he's a 30 year old man.

Oof, oof and oof. Kana's little speech here already makes me so soft and knowing how it's going to be utterly spat upon in just a moment by Kaburagi's callousness towards her just makes it hurt even more. We continually see reference to this supposed good relationship between Kana and Kaburagi during this episode and so knowing that he's ultimately just another shitty adult taking advantage of her clear desperation… masaya kaburagi when i see you it's on sight

This is also a really fantastic character moment for Aqua, I think. He himself says he's done everything he needed to do on set, so there's no need for him to start shit like he does. It's purely out of respect and fondness for Kana as a person and anger on her behalf as a fellow actor. For as much as Aqua likes to convince himself he's a coldhearted bastard, he really just cannot help himself when it comes to leaping in and helping people. He's a lot like Ai in that once somebody has his heart, he's theirs for good.

i also just have to fucking Scream at this cut of him. it hit me like a fucking TRUCK when this episode dropped. because it doesn't quite look like the equivalent panel of the manga, does it?

But doesn't it feel super familiar, even so? Doesn't it remind you of something? I wonder wh-

OSHI NO KO ANIME STAFF, WHEN I GET YOU!!!!!! (ENRAGED) (POSITIVE)

#oshi no ko #oshi no posting #onk rewatch #onk spoilers #onk anime spoilers

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chaifootsteps · 2 months

Note

Oh my god, finally! I've been wanting to post here for a few days.

I'm the author of that infamous fanfic. And I wanted to say, unrelated to Hazbin, that the documentary and Drake's story, coupled with his new music video "I Kinda Relate" is the most heartbreaking and empowering thing I've ever seen. I bawled my eyes out the entire day that I found it.

In the first 28 seconds, Drake heavily implies, but doesn't show, his abuse that he suffered at the hands of his rapist, Brian Peck (who also was penpals with none other than John Wayne Gacy.)

I wanted to do nothing but hug that poor little boy, and to hug the man he is now. I want to tell him that he's beautiful and strong and brave for coming out. Male CSA victims rarely ever do. Could you imagine telling Drake then or now, that he's a *loser*? Could you imagine going about his abuse the way Viv did with Husk and Angel? He literally made his own music video that was much more tactful and empowering than Loser Baby ever will be.

I also have dirt on Dan S and that whole fucking pedo ring (I know a LOT of people in this industry. I also helped take down an ACTUAL ZOO AND PEDOPHILE with a decent amount of power a few years back.) And for anyone still confused about Drake, the girl he messaged lied about her age and he never did anything physical with her. He still acknowledges he's fucked up (please watch his hour long interview and music video) but he's "bound to make it right".

I also just want to say, to a CERTAIN PERSON, that comparing the objectively fetishisized abuse (I'm a CSA victim and into noncon), to fucking SEX ED FOR CHILDREN, is the absolute most fucking garbage and vile take I've ever seen. Poison is NOT educational. It is fetish content for Viv and Raph and others like them. If survivors and fans can turn something objectively negative into something subjectively positive, all the power to them.

Again, into noncon and a CSA victim. I also don't want to see stans taking this and telling me I'm invalid for critiquing Viv and Raph (already dealt with that in my damn fic.) I have been raped/sexually assaulted/groomed/groped/strangled/pinned down/dragged around as a child and NO ONE is ever going to tell me I'm a hypocrite or that I'm wrong for my feelings on this issue. Especially when I also have friends and my own mother as SA and CSA victims as well.

Someone like myself, or like Drake Bell, do NOT need to see how explicitly horrid our abuse was/is to understand how bad it is. I personally had panic attacks watching the episode, and having the knowledge of Raph being an unapologetic rape fetishist, was all I needed to know that that entire episode was fetish content. It's basically an adaptation of Raph's Red Smoke comic. Nearly word for word too. I've written and consumed so many stories over the years to know exactly what's going in their heads.

You know how you actually help a victim? You have friends and family and a therapist help you get out of that situation. Husk "helping" Angel was not the way to go about it.

And I've seen fans argue whether or not Viv is a rape fetishist (she is), but if she wasn't, why is she so adamant on keeping an unapologetic rape fetishist on her staff? He's confirmed to be working on season 2 (God I'm gagging thinking about it) and why does she like so much art (no hate to the artists) of sexy, fetishisized, hot, and sad art of Valentino? If he's supposedly based off HER abusive experience, why does she coddle, woobify, and downplay and sexualize him so much??? I wouldn't base a rapist character or write a rapist character as a fucking "high school Mean girl".

I'm sorry this got so long, but fuck man... it's so fucking disgusting.

Anyways, please watch this. It's got more tact and heart than fucking Poison will ever have. Drake Bell, my heart goes out to you. CSA victim to CSA victim. I hope you get better and can heal. And that goes for all victims as well. 💜🫂 (You too, Chai.)

And Brian Peck, and any and all other rapists, can burn alive in a grease fire. Val included.

https://youtu.be/I5gh8rAVLkI?si=B2eny2U4GZRgDZ7t

https://youtu.be/nSzk-MsVKqA?si=6D4rEihu89Yom7YG

Well said as always, Anon, and thank you for this.

Also, definitely seconding Brian Peck burning up in a grease fire.

#Anonymous #viv stuff #actual blog post #vivziepop critical

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ceofjohnlennon · 5 months

Text

"But before Mal could make the return trip to Greece with his family, John and Paul had flown back to England. Despite their misgivings about the habitability of Aegos, the boys instructed Alistair to make the purchase anyway, earning a modest profit when they flipped the property a few months later. Not wanting to disappoint Lil and the children, John invited the Evans family to spend a few weeks at his home in Weybridge. While they were there, Lily's father, William White, succumbed to a heart attack at age sixty-seven. Over the past few years, Mal had shared with her how intimidating John could be, so Lil was surprised when the Beatle brought her a cup of tea, let down his guard, and showered her with consolation. Like Mal, Lily would always remember John's tender gesture. 'It's very hard at times like these to give verbal comfort to anybody,' Mal wrote, 'but John was fantastic, and I knew that he gave Lil a lot of comfort in her hour of need — something I have always blessed him for.' Shortly afterward, Mal and his family made their sad return to Liverpool, 'where we were to receive a most beautiful letter from Brian Epstein, offering his condolences and sympathy.'"

ㅡ From the book "Living the Beatles Legend" by Kenneth Womack.

#john lennon #the beatles #60s #1967 #mal evans #kenneth womack #living the beatles legend #my:read #i am sobbing lmaooo #john knew how to help people who lost they loved ones because he lived there before #and after #i need some time

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viscerax · 9 months

Text

How to never stop being sad

(Repeat to yourself that they're not really gone)

Tim opens the door to his home, practically throwing his jacket to the floor. He calls out, announcing his arrival. For just a moment he thinks he hears a response. A call from another room. Jay greeting him. Brian welcoming him home. He doesn't really hear it. He knows its not real. But it doesn't matter.

(Time has proven

That fooling yourself into believing a lie

Is the most effective way

To deal with things you have no control over)

__________________________________________

(Keep listening to the mixtapes they made you)

Tim pops the tape into the radio of his shitty car. A compilation of all the songs he and Jay listened to on their 'road trip'. Sometimes it made him sad to listen to them, to think about the bittersweet memories of the man sitting next to him and dumbly singing along, or when they would yell at eachother as the music filled the background.

__________________________________________

(Stay up every single night staring at your phone, Either attempting to gather up the courage, To turn these demons, these constant reminders, Of your loneliness into nothing more than a bad dream)

Tim clutches his phone with conviction. He plays the voice-mails over an over again, as if hearing their voices would bring them back. He listens to Jay's grainy voice asking for a call back, and he let's out a shuddering breath. He knew the man for such a short amount of time, most of which was spent at eachothers necks in an argument. And yet, he felt closer to him than he had with anybody since Brian.

__________________________________________

(Or praying just for one second you could feel

The warmth of equally returned love)

Tim remembers the feeling of Jay's hand slotting into his as he drove. He remembered that look that Jay had in his eyes whenever he was staring at Tim. That look that made Tim feel like he was the most beautiful thing in the whole world. It filled him with a bitter weight. How could he have ever punched this man, this man that looked at him like he was a precious jewel?

Tim remembers the feeling of Brian pressed against him as the two sat on his sofa, away from the publics watchful eye. He remembers Brian's arm around his waist, and his lips on his. He remembers how Brian looked at him the same way that Jay did. He remembers that sweet smile and that adorable tooth gap, and he remembers the feeling of Brian's mustache rubbing against his upper lip as they kissed.

Sometimes he can still feel it, for a fleeting moment he feels a hand in his, or an arm around his waist. And for a moment he thinks 'this is nice.' And then he remembers. And its not nice anymore.

__________________________________________

(Go out for coffee four times a week by yourself)

The baristas have got to think he's the weirdest guy ever. He sits there for hours on end on his days off. The shop is so far away from his home, but he pretends like it isn't. Tells himself he was going to come down here soon anyways, so he might as well. The coffee isn't even good. But he drinks it anyways. He thinks back to when him and Brian were filming that god-forsaken film. He remembers the shoddy dialogue they exchanged out on the wooden steps.

He stays there until closing sometimes. He doesn't even do much. Sits there, spaces out, tries to imagine he's there with Brian, or with Jay, or perhaps both. And the illusion lasts for a bit before its broken by the sound of the bell ringing over the door. He always looks back, always thinks for a moment that he's going to see them standing there. It never happens, but that doesn't stop him from hoping.

__________________________________________

(Talk down on yourself whenever possible

My life is shit because I deserve it, right?)

Your fault. He hears whispers in the night. He knows its his own brain. He knows its himself. He thinks its funny how the human mind betrays itself. He thinks, it must be true, though. To hear it so often.

Tim tried to distance himself from anything to do with the channel. But on particularly lonely nights, he would visit the Twitter page, see the tons of people who made comments, who were trying to solve the whole thing along with them like it was a game.

"I think Tim is responsible for Jay's death. If he hadn't left Jay, he still would've been alive." He read that comment and let out a laugh. At least he wasn't the only one who thought so.

"That was cold of Tim to let Brian fall like that." That one hit Tim. He knew it wasn't true. He knew there was no way to catch him, and he didn't even know it was Brian then. Still. It hurt.

(You must have done something real bad

Its nearly impossible for you to cry now)

__________________________________________

(Avoid your friends for weeks even though

They're the only sense of consistency you have)

He let's the phone ring a few times before finally picking up.

"Hello?" He answers, sounding not-so enthusiastic to be talking to whoever was on the other line.

"Hey, Tim!" Oh great. One of Tim's work friends, Eric's, voice came out of the phone. "You still down to watch the game tonight?" Tim was invited to some football watch party. Tim didn't like football, but the concept of being invited to hang out was nice enough. He said yes at the time, but here he was, sitting on his floor, tears still remnant in his eyes.

"Oh, uhm, no thanks. Got caught up with something. Maybe next time?" There won't be a next time. He knows he can only cancel on so many plans before they get tired of him. But he hears Eric hum in agreement and the two part ways.

__________________________________________

(Allow yourself to lose interest in the things you love)

Tim sets the ukulele down with a discontented sigh. The instrument no longer rested neatly in his hands. He could no longer play the chords so fluidly like he used to. Now, whenever he picks it up, it feels more like a chore. He plucks the strings a bit, but nothing more. He thinks about Jay, and how when he found out that Tim could play the ukulele, he told him that it was "basically a guitar but gayer".

__________________________________________

(Watch as you begin to take a backseat

To the world around you, don't fight it

Become a secondary character in your own motion picture)

His days go by in a blur. Every single moment passing by him like he's watching a film. Every day at work feeling like nothing but a mundane task that he's forced to watch someone else do. At this point, he's not sure he even wants to fix things. He stops seeing his counselor after a few months. She wasn't any help, bless her soul. It's not like it was her fault. You can't fix someone who keeps breaking themselves down.

__________________________________________

(But most importantly

Drown every single one of your feelings

In old stolen rum)

If Tim were at a bar, he surely would have been cut off by now. He was almost done with the bottle. He could barely see straight, and he knew he was going to have one hell of a hangover tommorow.

(Learn to love the taste of it dripping down your throat)

It burns. And it tastes gross. Tim is reminded why he never drinks everytime he takes a shot. But it doesn't matter. The burn is good, right? It makes him feel good, his brain fuzzy. It clouds his mind and yet makes him feel so much at the same time.

(Find comfort in the warmth coming from your stomach

You're drinking bottled love now)

__________________________________________

(You don't need other people to drive away your loneliness

You just needed to find a way to talk to it)

#marble hornets #jay merrick #tim wright #mh #brian thomas #jam mh #brim mh #bram if u squint #i love them #hehehhehehe i felt so evil writing this #angst #jam angst #alcoholism #tw alchohol mention

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twotitsjohndecaon · 10 months

Text

Brighton Rock | Nothing 'Ere Need Come Between Us

Hey besties!!! So sorry I disappeared for like a rlly long time. I got depression and then recovered from depression but we're back and thriving now!!! Here is the last part of the series, long awaited. tbh haven't read this shit in like a year so I hope it's ok but it should be :) Hope y'all enjoy :))

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: Filthy smut. Bad. Xtremely dirty. 18+ only, dni in any form if you're under 18 I'm dead serious. Blatant infidelity and cheating, if you're not ok w reading about that this also isn't for you. Some sad/mad emotions for a brief time. Maybe some drinking and swearing, I can't remember for sure. You have been warned.

“Where’ve you been for two hours?” Julie interrogated. You were flustered, not even thinking about the fact they might be back and you were gone longer than you should’ve.

“I… got the sun cream, tried to walk back, but then I couldn’t find you all, so I looked for you then came back.”

“We were in the same spot!”

“But I wasn’t paying attention on the way there!” Julie rolled her eyes.

“What’s on your neck?” she said, seeing the marks Brian had left, even though they were small. You hadn’t realized there’d been any.

“Nothing. My skins just sensitive right now,” you said, your hand flying to your neck and clasping over the side of it. You sighed, changing and taking a quick shower, trying to position your hair to cover your neck. You hadn’t brought anything to cover it either, so you groaned and went back in the room, muttering you were going to take a nap, exhausted after your encounter, understandably. You had to be more careful, but you also didn’t know how else you could see Brian without suspicion. Luckily, Julie was still young enough to not realize a love bite right away, and she was in her “I don’t care” phase anyways so she dropped it pretty easily. But that and with the call earlier and your other disappearing acts, you worried she’d put everything together soon. You sighed as you tried to fall asleep, willing the thought to go away, and for her to be oblivious. You woke up, had dinner, and went to bed early still. Waking up early, you changed silently as Julie slept and snuck out to meet Brian. Luckily the heatwave made it so that the morning wasn’t frigid in any way, and you happened to run into Brian in the foyer as you went to leave.

“Ah, good,” Brain said, seeing you. You smiled at each other, happy to see him again. Time with your family was nice, so was time alone, but something about time with Brian seemed even easier and more enjoyable. “Look at you,” Brian whispered softly, giving you a quick kiss. Your chest fluttered for a moment. You only indulged him for a second before breaking away, fearful of getting caught somehow.

“Shall we?” You offered. Brian assented and the two of you headed to the beach. “Where should we set up?” You asked, trudging along the beach.

“Over there,” he said, pointing towards a more secluded corner near the wharf, almost obscured into the large posts holding the dock up. You thought it a bit strange, but it was nice still. Besides, you didn’t want this getting out more than he did. The two of you sat down and made yourselves comfortable. “Sorry to wake you up so early.” “It’s alright. I had an early night,” you said.

“Tired from something?”

“I can’t imagine what,” the two of you sneakily smiled to each other and laughed. The sun rose further and its first true rays peaked out from behind the clouds and you sighed happily at the warmth. Brian admired you, and you could see him looking in your peripherals. To tease him further, you took off the light t-shirt you’d been wearing to cover your bikini top and tossed it aside, leaning down. You could hear Brian exhale softly at this, and his next move was scooting forward a bit, lifting your head, and placing it on his lap.

“This good?” he asked, smiling down at you and brushing your hair away from your face. You smiled.

“Yeah,” you assented softly. You loved the little gestures he was making. In fact, you loved how Brian made you feel most of the time. He made you feel wanted and desired wholly, in softness and in lust. One moment he went from staring at you like he was going to devour you to the next, his gaze shifting, and then looking at you innocently as if you were the sun. You weren’t afraid of these feelings, even if they were rare and hard to shake. You knew this would be over soon, and you decided you might as well let yourself feel everything in your limited time together. Brian looked up, squinting towards the sea and sun. It was so quiet and peaceful, it being so early meaning that no one else had really come out to the beach yet. The only sounds were the waves. He looked thoughtful.

“What’re you thinking about?” you asked softly. He smiled.

“Do you know why the waves push and pull?”

“Because of the moon?”

“Kind of. The moon controls the tide, not the waves. That’s the wind. But do you know why the moon controls the tides?” he asked. You were quiet for a second.

“No, I guess not.” Brian looked down at you excitedly. He pulled your shoulders up and leaned his head down near yours so you were cheek to cheek and could see from his perspective.

“Well, the moon and the Earth are both rotating all of the time, and they’re rotating in the same direction. And the moon and the Earth have a gravitational pull on each other. So when the moon passes over some place on Earth, some place with water, that gravitational pull makes the water bump out towards the moon and on the side of the world directly opposite the moon. That’s what makes high tide. And when the moon isn’t over some place, it’s low tide,” Brian whispered to you, his voice going softly into your ear. “Make sense?”

“Yeah,” you said, entranced by him. Brian looked at you, still looking out to the sea and decided to continue.

“But— but the moon and the Earth, since they’re rotating in the same direction, means that it takes a bit for one to catch up to the other. So when there’s high tide, the moon isn’t actually directly over that place yet. The tides a little early,” he finished, hugging you to him.

“Wow. How do you know all of that?” you asked.

“I studied astrophysics in school a while ago,” he finished.

“Well, that’s really something special,” you said, looking deep into your eyes. Ok. Maybe you did have to be afraid of these feelings. Because they were starting to feel very, very deep and hard to shake.

“I think you’re pretty special,” he said, looking at you deeply before kissing you. You melted into him this time, feeling the sun and joy upon his lips and it all felt like Brian. The two of you sat and talked lazily for a while longer before the mass of people started filing into the beach, and the two of you decided to go and walk down the promenade. The two of you were quiet, knowing that your outing together for the day would have to end soon again, both of you upset at this. You didn’t want to leave Brian, and you nothing seemed as good as being with him. He turned you around, holding your hands. The sun beat down on your backs.

“I’m terribly sorry sweetheart, but I really must go,” Brian said sorrowfully. Your face crumpled, and you nodded.

“I should too,” you said over the loud tourists now, the seagulls squawking, children playing, and people eating and mingling. Brian was about to tear away. “I don’t—“ you started. He turned back towards you and grabbed your hands tighter. “I don’t want you to go,” you said more clearly now. Brian sighed, rubbing his thumbs over your knuckles.

“I don’t want to go either. I wish there was a way…” he trailed off, knowing there wasn’t one and he couldn’t finish that sentence.

“Can we find one?” you asked. Brian thought for a moment.

“Shit,” he whispered for a second, rubbing his forehead with one of his hands, seemingly stressed for a moment before grabbing your hand again. He looked around, like he was fearful of being watched. You supposed you were too. He looked back to you.

“Yes. I don’t know about finding a way— I can’t think of one right now, but I need to see you again. I— ok, come to the room again. Tonight for dinner.”

“How am I gonna get out of dinner?” You questioned, more to yourself. This seemed to be the only way to see Brian, but you didn’t know how you’d be able to weasel your way out of that one again.

“I’m not sure, I’m sorry. But it’s the only time— I’ll have to make something up myself,” he finished. You were too preoccupied with your own problem to ask what that meant. “Same room as last time. I’m sorry it’s so difficult, but it’s the only time I can again,” he said, truly looking sorry but desperate to see you. You were a bit desperate too already for the next time you’d see him. This wouldn’t be fun to break once you left Brighton. You nodded.

“I’ll find a way,” you said. Brian and you looked at each other for a moment, not wanting to break away, unable again to do so.

“Fuck it,” Brian whispered quickly before grabbing you and giving you a deep kiss. Once he pulled away, you had to smile. You couldn’t help it. That did it.

“See you tonight,” you said, finally able to break away and hurried back to the hotel for breakfast.

“Hi Julie, just have to change from my run before I head down,” you said, trying to avoid questions from the start as you walked into your room.

“Whatever,” she said, flopping on her bed for a few moments as she waited for you to change quickly. You did so and headed down to breakfast, no questions asked. You went along with whatever shenanigans your family had planned for the day, and then it was nearly time.

“Think I’ll sit out this dinner,” you commented just before your aunt and uncle parted ways to freshen up for the meal. Everyone paused, looking at you.

“Y/N, it’s our last dinner, nonsense!” said your aunt.

“Really, the food’s not sitting with me well. I think it’s from eating out so much during this trip,” you said. Your aunt and uncle looked at you.

“Well, you don’t have to eat if you don’t feel well, but you’ll at least sit with us. We want your company,” said your uncle. Fuck. It wasn’t working.

“I— really can’t,” you said, clamming up.

“Why not?” Asked Julie.

“Y/N, what’s the matter?” Your aunt asked.

“You can tell us, is this why you’ve kept disappearing from time to time?” Asked your uncle. You felt terrible for lying, especially when they were being so kind and had been for even taking you on this trip. You had to think of something, right now, right in this moment.

“I— I’m not alright! I’ve... well, this trip has been very special to me,” you said, calming down. Everyone was focussed straight on you, and all of your anxiety about Brian and everything for this moment gave you a saving grace. Your eyes became watery. You didn’t cry, but were visibly on the verge of it.

“And, uh, I’m sad about going soon. Very upset. And truth is, I feel like I’ve made a… special connection to Brighton while I’ve been here, and I wanted to take one last walk around in the daylight. Alone. Before tomorrow. Just to connect,” you said. You paused, gauging the reactions. It was some of the greatest bullshit which has ever spewed from your lips, but after a moment:

“Aw, lovely, why didn’t you just say so?” Said your uncle.

“We’re so glad we were able to give you such a touching experience. And that we’ve been able to spend more time with you,” said your aunt, pulling you into a hug. Somehow, it seemed to have worked.

“Sorry— I would’ve told you. It was just… hard for me to conceptualize,” you said. You felt even worse for lying now that they were being so accepting and caring about your feelings and you were taking advantage of theirs. But what had to be done had to be done.

“We understand. Go, have your special moment. We’re so grateful you’ve come on our holiday,” said your aunt. They departed, leaving just with Julie. You went into the room, and sat on your bed, willing her not to comment on anything, even though you knew there wasn’t any real hope for that. The door closed, and she looked at you with contempt, hands on her hips, accusatory.

“You expect me to believe that for one second?” she said, voice high.

“Julie! I don’t know what you’re talking about!” you said, done with all of her antics by this point.

“You might have convinced them, but I know you’re hiding something. You keep appearing, doing strange things, strange calls… tell me right now what’s going on or I’ll tell my parents you’re lying,” said finished. You still felt bad for lying, but played into your part. She didn’t really have anything on you, to your knowledge.

“There’s nothing to tell, Julie,” you said angrily. “I’m not lying.” Julie glared at you, and changed, now in a mood. The two of you ignored each other, and she left without a word, slamming the door. You should’ve waited longer to be sure they were gone, really, but you couldn’t help yourself, almost immediately jumping up and heading to Brian’s room. You knocked on the door, and no one answered. You groaned frustrated, and already near tears from the confrontations from just earlier. You needed Brian now, needed him to make you feel ok like he always did, and he wasn’t answering. Where was he? You knocked again, and still nothing. Your breathing picked up, and you turned around, crossing your arms. Great. Now he was turning out to be all a lie as well, all of this for nothing. You can’t believe he really was going to ditch you. You were so stupid, believing him, you’d given him what he wanted and he’d left you high and dry, and brought your feelings into it as well. Why did you have to go on and catch feelings for him? Deep feelings, ones that—

“Sorry, I’m so sorry I’m late,” Brian said suddenly, running up to you, and reaching underneath your arm to unlock the door and push you in. You were so baffled, and Brian was so quick in closing the door, you nearly tripped inside, but once you straightened up, Brian tossed the keys down, and looked at you. “What’s the matter?” he asked. Nothing. It was nothing, because he was here and you were fine now. You shook your head, and walked towards the bed. The room looked a bit more lived in now than it had before, but it was still pretty clean, unmussed. Brian grabbed your waist from behind, and leaned down to your ear. “What’s wrong?” but you didn’t answer again, fine that he was here, and grabbed the back of his neck to kiss him. He kissed back, the two of you starting to make out intensely, the kiss deepening and your tongues falling into each others mouth, Brian sighing into your mouth. You kissed until the both of you were out of breath.

“Want you,” you whimpered softly, trying to convey how much you needed Brian right now, and he needed you just as much. Brian nodded. He turned you around and began slowly undressing the two of you standing as you continued to kiss, the process being deeper than ever but the slowest it had been, not a ravenous hunger this time but an intense process of appreciation. Once Brian had gotten the two of you to your underwear, he sat back against the bed and you came to his lap. Your lips still never parted, both of you moving with each other to get you more and more ready. Eventually, Brian made a beautiful gasp into your lips, and that alit you, kissing down to his neck, to which he sighed, then down his chest to his stomach. You looked to him, grabbing the waistband of his boxers, making direct eye contact.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he cooed in complete appreciation of what you were about to do. You removed his pants, and took him into your mouth slowly. Brian groaned softly, making the most gorgeous noises, and you took your time to taste as much of him as you could. He wove a hand into your hair, guiding you but not forcing you down, moaning softly, until he tugged on your head to bring you up. “Very lovely, darling, but I want to fuck you still,” Brian said. You just brought him in for another kiss, not being able to wait any longer. You needed him inside you, needed to feel how fantastic it was. You removed your final pieces of clothing and sank down onto him, the stretch sending you reeling in the best ways. Just when you felt like you were about to leave the moment, Brian grabbed your upper back, bringing you to his gaze, and encouraging you to move. You moved together, it being wonderful, and you were with him, and it was everything perfect. You looked into his eyes and he into yours the entire time. This was different from the other times, it wasn’t an animalistic fucking for only pleasure as the two of you had in the past, it was a connection this time, a language the two of you were making only between yourselves. Before you knew it, and far too quickly, you were close, and so was he, and the two of you shuddered, falling into each other and into bliss as the two of you finished. You pulled off of him, but stayed in his lap, kissing, and he only held you tighter, as tight as possible as the two of you came down. You couldn’t avoid it forever.

“I’m leaving tomorrow,” you blurted out suddenly. Brian pulled back, looking into your eyes, his eyes moving back and forth, seeing you were telling the truth. He was devastated. He didn’t expect to be, and neither did you, but it was the truth. “I don’t want to go. I don’t want to be away from you,” you said.

“I— I don’t want you to go either,” Brian said in near horror, thinking about the fact that this was the last time he could hold you. “No, there has to be something, has to be a way,” he whispered, looking down, trying to think of something. You both racked your brains. “Stay here, stay a little longer with me, even if your family goes, you can… you can stay in here,” he said.

“I can’t do that. What will they say? What about my parents back home, when they find out I’ve stayed in Brighton?”

“Why can’t they know?”

“They… they’ll never approve. They already think I’m some sort of crazed slut, and if they figure out I’ve met someone on holiday, not only will my aunt and uncle who’ve only treated me with kindness and understanding find out I’ve been lying to them, but my parents will… they’ll stop paying for my school. And I can’t afford it on my own, and I don’t know what I’ll do,” you said, panicked.

“Are you sure they wouldn’t?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, nearly beginning to cry.

“Shit,” Brian said, sweeping his thumb under your eyes to prevent any tears from dripping down. “But you can’t go. I— fuck, I know this sounds crazy, but I suppose I’ll just say it. I know I’ve just met you and I know this is insane, but I think I love you. And you can’t leave, I can’t—,” Brian stopped, almost choking up himself. Your breathing stopped at his admittance, but then everything became more clear and more complicated at once.

“I think I love you too. But I don’t know what to do,” you said, crying more. Brian continued to wipe your tears. You stood up, getting dressed, getting ready to leave, because there was nothing else to do.

“Wait, Y/N, no,” Brian said, getting somewhat redressed himself quickly to stop you.

“Brian, I have to—“

“No, please,” he pleaded, grabbing your arm softly.

“Brian, I have to!” you exclaimed, this already being too difficult a departure. Going back home would be absolute hell. Everything after this, the memories, everything, would be hell.

“But why…”

“Because, I—!” you nearly shouted, stopping with a gasp. Brian was just about to ask what you’d stopped for, before he realized himself. His stomach dropped. You’d seen it. On the dresser, you couldn’t believe you hadn’t noticed it before. A wedding ring, a man’s wedding ring, sat there, gleaming in the rising moon. You felt sick. He couldn’t be. But the room changes. And the strange meeting times. The not wanting to be found out. And… everything, which was making sense now. You couldn’t believe it. Sure, he was older, but still, you couldn’t believe any of this had happened, that he’d allowed it, that you’d gone along with it so far, that the two of you had apparently fallen in love despite all of it.

“Y/N,” he whispered in immense fear of what was going to happen next, how you’d react, and the realization of what he’d done setting in. Your breathing was shaky, and you couldn’t move for a moment before you turned around and faced Brian, the arm holding you falling limp. You looked into his eyes. It was a look of betrayal now, but of things making sense, and the next steps being clear now. You swallowed, and took a deep breath.

“Because,” you restated, in only a whisper now. “Because my family wouldn’t allow it. And I love you, but you’re already for someone else,” you finished. Brian held your hands again. He was quiet, not meeting your gaze, looking absolutely distraught.

“I do love you,” he said. “I’m not lying.”

“I know. But you, you’re… married,” you choked out.

“I’ll leave—,” Brian stopped himself, not wanting to make promises. He really did love you. But he had fucked up. You shook your head. “I’m so sorry,” he apologized. You gulped.

“I won’t say anything. But I wouldn’t have if… and, I suppose, it’s beneficial still if we both just forget it happened. Don’t let it get out,” you said. Brian hated this, and so did you. Nothing was right anymore. “Well, that’s all it ever was, wasn’t it? Just a holiday fling? A mindless, holiday fling?” you said.

“It wasn’t,” Brian said, and you both knew he was right. “But that’s what we’ll have to leave it as,” he conceded.

“How the memory will go,” you finished. You squeezed each others hands, took in each other for the last time. Now you both knew, this would never, ever work. It was a true shame.

“Goodbye, Brian,” you said.

“Goodbye, Y/N,” he said slowly after you. You gave one last look into each others eyes. You left, walking back to your room and having a big old cry. Brian wished he hadn’t looked into your eyes that final time. He wanted the gaze of love, so brief, to be the only one in his memory, forever, but now his last glimpse was all of the hurt he created.

The next morning, you were on the train back. You were silent the whole ride, and luckily Julie seemed to have dropped everything from the night before. It’d worked perfectly, you supposed. No one had found out. But nothing was as it should. You went back home, and so did Brian soon after you, and each of you went back to your normal lives, now a bit more broken inside.

***

Time, much time, had passed, and many things had changed. You still didn’t feel as alive as you had with Brian since then, and neither did he, but you were beginning to get back into the swing of things. The seasons had changed, it’d grown hot and cold, and you missed him still, even though everything had ended so messily. One day, much after everything, you had managed to stumble upon something on Brian, then taking to a friend finding out where he was last seen, then through a few calls and using your best sleuthing skills, you had seemingly found where you could reach him. You knew you shouldn’t but you couldn’t resist. It didn’t have to mean anything, and besides, what was a letter?

***

Brian, much after, came home at the end of a long day. He opened his letterbox out of habit, sifting through everything quickly and tiredly on his couch, before he sat up, wide eyed.

“To Brian May, from Y/N L/N,” it read. Brian opened it quickly, reading and smiling at your familiar person, it coming through your writing. He was thrilled to hear from you, and you had included a return address. Brian wasted no time sending a letter back.

It was all innocent, really. Genuinely. But couldn’t help your excitement as you opened your letter from Brian, before starting to pen another in response back.

“Oh, I do like to be beside the seaside…” you quoted, starting your correspondence back.

#brian may x reader #brian may #brian may smut #brian may imagine #queen #my writing

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tinydeskwriter · 1 year

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CINEMA {Chapter II}

A/n: know that Anne announced her father’s passing on the 23rd, but a little digging on the internet pointed out that Brian passed on the 21st of August of a infection at 86 years old. I don’t thing they would announce it before a funeral and service have already been held due to media and public interest in Harry. Also, quick note that London is 8 hours ahead from LA. word count:2425

CINEMA | Previous Part

TONIGHT IS GOING TO BE THE LONELIEST

The 21st of August was the saddest day of 2021 for Harry.

Perhaps one of the saddest of his life.

It started early in the morning, on their daily video-call Anne had commented that Grandpa Brian was not doing well—a mixture of his Parkinson’s disease, diabetes and the poor health that plagues old age—that they had better start preparing for the worst.

He was clearly shaken after the call, pensive, if not a little catatonic with the news, grandpa Brian was one of Harry’s people in the world, and after meeting the old man in 2013 it became clear to Y/n where so many of Harry’s’s most endearing personality traits came from.

Y/n tried to distract him by taking him out of the house, ‘enjoy the last days of summer’ she told him. They went to the beach in Malibu and enjoyed iced tea from their favorite little coffee shop sunbathing on the golden sand, her head on his lap as they talked about their next few months and plans to visit each other while his tour was on the road, and they had lunch in a nice vegan place. No paparazzi to bother them and they just got recognized on three occasions by Y/n’s far more controlled fans.

It was shortly after they got back to the house that Harry received Anne's second call that day to inform him that grandpa had passed away a few moments before.

Apart from all the grief, the saddest part was that Harry wouldn’t be able to attend the funeral to pay his respects and say a last goodbye to his beloved grandfather.

Y/n’s heart broke for him.

There is something truly heartbreaking about seen someone so full of life and love, so sad and grief stricken. His grandfather may have been frail for a while now, but nothing never truly prepares you to lose someone you love so much.

Harry and Y/n have been at each others side through some amount of grief and loss over the years. Harry had been with her when she lost her grandmother in 2013, and again in 2018 when her beloved grandfather passed away—the only family members she had been close to, with her parents to busy with their careers, and older half-siblings that didn’t care much for her—, and she had being with him after Robin’s passing in 2017, getting in the first flight back home from Canada just to be by his side as they buried his stepfather.

Due to COVID health guidelines it was impossible for Harry to attend the funeral, even if they waited the maximum period for the burial and religious ceremonies it would still not be enough time.

Y/n stood by his side, hands intertwine with his, as he talks to his mom and sister.

“They’re burying him tomorrow afternoon, there is no real reason to wait longer.” He tells her as he ends the call. “I will be attending the service through Zoom.” He says with a humorless laugh.

Y/n’s heart sinks as she sees Harry’s red, teary eyes.

“Oh, my Love…” She wrapped him in her arms, allowing him to mourn.

He remains in her arms for a while before pulling away kissing her forehead, their hands still intertwined.

“I need to call Jeff and the rest of my family.” he says sniffling, her thumb caressing the back of his hand.

His eyes dart out to where they're intertwined. Her elegant, small, pale hand intertwined with his larger, tanned hand.

“Do you want me to call someone?” She asks in an almost whisper.

His eyes return to her face.

“Can you call Mitch and Sarah, please? Let them know…” He asks looking her in the eyes.

“Of course my love.” Y/n she agrees, nodding her head. “I will text Luis, ask him to bring mourning clothes for you from the rental.”

Harry looks at her gratefully and remains silent for a moment.

“I do not want to be alone.” He confesses after a while.

“I am here.” She assures him, her free hand travels to the back his neck and Harry lowers his head, touching his forehead to hers. “I will always be here.” She promises.

He agrees, kissing her forehead again and excusing himself to go make phone calls.

Y/n walked through the familiar long halls of her house, her office was right next to the music room, a space that did double duty as an office and library—she knew Harry was probably in backyard—two of the walls had floor-to-ceiling shelves with all the books Y/n had ever read, and the collection he had inherited from his grandparents, a Guglielmo Ulrich desk occupied almost all the space in front of the huge window overlooking the side garden, an Urban Outfitters desk chair and G. Zema's Anemone armchairs being the only places available to sit in the room.

The actress closes the door behind her with her cell phone and address book. Before anything else, she orders flowers to be sent to Anne with a condolence note, and a wreath from the same flower shop in London that she had used years ago for her grandfather's funeral—the owner of the business was a discreet lady.

She sent a text message to Luis asking him to bring Harry mourning clothes, explaining that his grandpa Brian had passed away.

Harry never really did well alone, he always needed to be surrounded by friends, so Y/n spends the next few hours talking to Mitch, James, and Glenne, inviting them to come for Harry’s grandfather’s service, she texts Gemma asking for as many photos of Harry with his grandfather as she can get, and order flowers to be brought to her house the next day. If Harry can’t go to his grandfather service, she intended to do something nice for him so he would be able to say goodbye.

Her Love deserved no less.

Y/n only realizes the late hour when Luis shows up at the house with Harry's clothes and a Nobu bag.

“I figured dinner would be the last thing on your minds.” Says Luis as he passed everything to Y/n's hands and greets her with a kiss on the cheek. “Got H’s favorite.”

“Thank you so much baby, I didn’t even notice the time.” The young woman smiles at him.

“How is H?” The assistant asks a little worried not seeing his boss anywhere around.

“The last time I saw him he was still on the phone talking to his family.” She says placing the suit bag on an armchair in the living room and carrying the bag of food into the kitchen, leaving it on the island. “Are you coming tomorrow?” She asked in a lower voice.

“Of course, totally.” The man nods, “Do you need me to bring anything?”

“I have everything under control, just show up for brunch.”

“Alright, Y/n/n, I need to get going, but text me if you guys need anything.” Luis squeezed her shoulder in farewell. “Hug H for me, will you?”

Y/n escorts Luis to the door and then goes looking for Harry around the house.

The first thing that struck her when she walked into the music room was the unmistakable smell of tequila and whiskey through the room. The second thing that struck me was the music. Harry was playing some messy, off-key blues that was both making her sad and also making her ears metaphorically bleed. He didn’t even notice Y/n ’s her presence until she was almost in front of him.

“Lovie!” He smiles drowsily, abandoning the piano keys to turn to her.

Y/n's heart tightens in her chest as she takes in the sweaty hair and bloodshot eyes, there were tear marks on his face and Y/n just knew he had been crying.

“Oh My Love! How long have you been here?” She eyes at the nearly empty bottle of whiskey, and the uncapped bottle of tequila.

“I love you, babe.” Harry said against the fabric of her clothing. “You are the fucking love of my existence.”

“I love you too H.” She lifted his face to look him in the eye. “You are the other half of my soul.” She says making him give a drunken smile.

“Why did we broke up?” He asks, his drunken smile suddenly gone.

Y/n sighs, feeling a little drained at the thought of having that conversation with a Drunk Harry.

Why did they broke up?

He had broken up with her, it would be a better way to say, she had just accepted his choice so she could keep him in her life. They’re too young too be so serious about each other, was his reasoning.

“H, let’s go to bed.” Is what she chooses to says, there was no point talking about their past with him so drunk.

“Promise you won’t leave.”He demands.

“Never in a million years.”

****

Harry woke up alone in their bed—since when their bed became a synonymous for her bed—to the smell of fresh tea and sunlight streaming into the bedroom. His cellphone was charging on the bedside table along with a few tablets for his hangover—he smiled at that—he only had a few unread messages of condolences from other family members and some more close family friends, who are probably informed by either his mom, Jeff or Y/N.

He gets up stretching his back, deeply regretting having opened the drinks cabinet the night before. He showered and changed into the clothes left for him on an armchair—a Gucci double breasted black suit—.

The ‘Watermelon Sugar’ crooner found Y/n in the kitchen, in front of her custom sage green Aga Stove—after buying her dream mid-century house in LA, the model turn actress decided to renovate her entire kitchen and made it more ‘English’, it was the only thing she did really change at the house—in a black 'The Vampire's Wife' dress, he recognized because Olivia had the same dress in another print, Y/n had an apron on, protecting her clothes from anything that might fall on her, Dorothea, her cook, was nowhere in sight, Rebekah and Luis were sitting on stools by the island, both with their iPads in hand and coffee mugs in front of them.

Luis was the first to notice Harry in the kitchen entrance, getting up and offering his condolences to his boss on his grandfather’s passing, followed by Bekah.

Y/n takes the fry pan off the stove, spreading the vegan sausages and beacon onto a platter, before taking of her apron and going around the island, opening her arms to hug Harry.

“What’s this?” He asks, noticing for the first time what looks to be a full English breakfast spread arranged in porcelain plates around the kitchen island.

“This is comfort brunch… for you.” She says with a small smile, feeling a little silly with Harry looking at her so intensely and the two PA’s watching their interaction. “I want you to feel loved during your grieving moment, so…” Harry cut her off with a peck, cupping her face in his hands.

“Thank you, Lovie.” He thanked her with sincere honesty, hugging her.

“Why?” Y/n she looked at him confused.

Harry just smiled. That was just something so very Y/n to do…to do something just so caring and gentle, and just not seeing that it wasn’t simply what ‘anyone else would do’.

“Simply by being you.” His green eyes traveled across her face.

“Babes, why don’t you take H to the backyard?” Bekah interrupts them. “Luis and I will take the food.” Y/n gives them both a grateful smile taking Harry’s hand in hers and leads him to the backyard.

There’s an energy of intimacy that you wouldn’t tell they’re anything other than a couple, it was something in the way he followed her with blind trust, his eyes on her the entire time, or how her head was leaning slightly on his shoulder and she had his hand between hers. And to any of the thirty people in the backyard, they looked like some sort of beautiful quirky couple straight out of a Tim Burton movie.

His eyes are still following her across the lawn when they are separated by friends who wish to greet Harry and offer their condolences on his grandfather's passing.

Harry felt loved with so many of his friends showing up to support him. His whole band was there, James with his family, the Azoffs and the Gerbers, Tom and Jenny, Tyler, Jeff, Molly, even Nick and Lily, Niall showing up had been a surprise, but that was Niall.

Olivia was an unexpected presence, as they were in an awkward place in their relationship, she stayed close to James, Julia, Nick and Lily as he greeted them, Harry wasn't sure who had warned her, if it had been Jeff or James—he was pretty sure Y/n wouldn't have been, the two hadn't even said hello.

Of his close and dear friends, those not in attendance made themselves present with flowers and heartfelt messages. He was admiring the arrangements with Glenne and Jeff when he noticed what appeared to be papers hanging by ribbons from the English oak that Y/n had been given by a director years ago.

His band were admiring whatever it was with smiles on their faces. Harry's eyes again turned to the other side of the pool where Y/n was talking to Kaia.

“She organized everything yesterday.” Harry turned to Glenne who was looking in the same direction as him. “Have you seen the tree yet?”

“What are those hanging things?” He asked with some curiosity, heading towards the tree without even realizing it, Glenne beside him.

It was only when he was close enough that he realized they were photographs, most of him and his grandfather, some of the whole family, framed and hung from the tree with colorful ribbons. He glanced briefly at where Y/n stood before his gaze returned to Glenne.

“She texted Gemma yesterday, spent a few hours printing everything out, and this morning while you were sleeping, Jeff and I helped her frame and hang it up.”

They were interrupted by Y/n advising everyone to take a seat in front of the big screen that the service was about to begin, and they would be reunited virtually with the rest of Harry's family. For a second their eyes met, Harry smiled despite the moment, 'Thank you' he said mutely, to which she smiled back at him.

{next| coming soon}

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