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jjmaybanksbaby · 3 years

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Where It Leads (Rafe Cameron)

Summer II

Part 03: Been A While

series masterlist | previous part

summary: Your second summer in the Outer Banks becomes a whole lot more complicated when you realize a year away from Rafe hasn't changed your feelings for him at all.

a/n: And we're back with summer two - the summer before sophomore year whoop whoop! Writing this gave me butterflies so I hope you have the same feeling reading it! I always love hearing y’all’s commentary so don't be shy to scream about your favorite parts back at me.

word count: 2.5k words

Your mom reached over and tapped you gently on the arm.

"Put your phone away please, y/n. You can text Evan when we land."

"We're not even moving yet." You replied.

As if on cue, the pilot's voice echoed over the intercom. "Good morning passengers. This is your captain speaking. Welcome onboard Flight 4B7 with service from Portland to the Outer Banks. We ask that you please fasten your seatbelts at this time and secure all baggage..."

You stashed your phone in the pocket of the seat in front of you and closed your eyes, hoping that by the time you woke up you would be landing.

After the way last summer had gone, you were surprised when your mom announced that you were spending the summer in the Outer Banks again.

Frankly, you weren't that happy to be headed to North Carolina. Alice and Kensie, your two best friends back home, had opted not to go to camp this summer so the three of you had planned to spend every day at Alice's pool, biking to the Dairy Queen a few blocks away or begging of your moms to drive you to the mall.

Plus, there was Evan. Your boyfriend of six months. You'd both been cast as the understudies for the leads in the fall musical. Because of some freak food-poisoning accident, both you and Evan had to go on as Cinderella and Prince Charming in the final show. When he kissed you under the bright stage lights, it had felt like more than just a stage kiss. He'd asked you out at the cast party later than night and you'd been dating ever since.

Evan was great. He really was. He was thoughtful and cared about you. But ever since your mom had bought the plane tickets to the Outer Banks back in March, every time you kissed Evan you could only think of Rafe Cameron.

☼☼☼

You trailed behind your mother on the way to baggage claim, bent over your phone responding to the texts Alice and Kensie had sent in the group chat while you'd been in the air. Apparently, they'd bumped into Kensie's crush and need to analyze every detail. A feeling of jealously you hadn't anticipated crept into your chest, weighing you down. Even indoors, the muggy heat of the Outer Banks made it clear how far from Oregan - and from your people - you were.

You looked around the airport, searching for the baggage claim with your flight number and noticed an incredibly familiar head of blonde head of hair standing nearby.

"Sarah Cameron?" You asked.

Sarah spun around a joyful smile on her face. "Oh my god! Y/n!" She ran over, wrapping you in a hug. "Are you back for the summer?"

You nodded your head which elicited another excited scream from her.

"What are you doing at the airport?" You asked her.

"You'll never guess! We're getting a house in the Bahamas!" She gushed.

"Sarah!" A deep voice called. You looked up to see another older-looking version of Rafe headed in your direction.

Your mom froze beside you. "Oh dear," she whispered.

The man's gaze didn't leave your mom. "Heather," he said.

"Ward," she responded.

Oh, you thought. So that's Rafe's dad.

"It's good to see you," your mom continued. "You look," she paused for moment, "good."

"You as well," Ward responded.

The carousel behind you started to move and luggage streamed out.

"That's us," your mom said, pointing over to the moving carousel. "We should go."

"I'll tell Rafe you're back," Sarah whispered to you. "He's gonna be so excited."

You smiled down at her knowing that you'd already made a vow to yourself to avoid him all summer. You refused to let Rafe ruin what you and Evan had and the only way you could guarantee that was making sure you didn't see him at all.

☼☼☼

Sarah bounded in the front door of the Cameron's house. "We're home" she called out, her sing-songy voice echoing through the big house. Ward entered after her, carrying their luggage.

"Welcome home," Rose said, greeting Ward at the door with a kiss.

Sarah rolled her eyes at the exchange. It wasn't that she actively hated her step-mom, she would just have rather her dad not married her. Though he was buying her a house in the Bahamas as an anniversary present so maybe she wasn't all bad.

"Is Rafe upstairs?" Sarah asked.

"I think so," Rose replied.

Sarah ran up the stairs, skipping every other one, the way Ward always told her not to do. She came to a sudden stop in front of Rafe's closed door.

"Rafeeeeee," she yelled, knocking rapidly until his voice bellowed back at her through the wall.

"What do you want Sarah? Go away!" He yelled.

"Fine," Sarah said. "I guess you don't care that y/n is back in town then?"

The door swung open just a few seconds later. “What did you say?” Rafe asked.

“Y/n was at the airport. She’s back in the Outer Banks for the summer.” Sarah turned on her heel and sashayed her way to her own bedroom leaving Rafe in his doorway to process the information.

Maybe this summer will be a whole less boring, Rafe thought.

☼☼☼

The summer was going exactly how you'd expected. It was surprisingly nice to have your younger brother to keep you company and more importantly, keep you busy. You spend your days either on the beach, tanning, watching your brother splash in the waves, and making your way through the reading list of the Honors English class you had opted to take next year or at the Club's pool, eating chicken tenders for lunch and washing them down with the thick chocolate milkshakes.

Rafe's friends frequently made an appearance at the Club. You watched them sneak vodka from flaskes into cups of spirit from being your shaded sunglasses. So far, Rafe had yet to join them.

Currently, Phoebe was flirting hardcore with Sawyer, begging him to put sunscreen on her back so she wouldn't burn. It was all too predictable.

You turned your attention back to Nick Carraway and his descriptions of Gatsby's grand parties momentarily.

You heard Sarah's voice before she appeared next to you and plopped down on the chair your brother had been occupying before he decided he needed more ketchup for his fries and had ran off.

"Y/n," she started with the same youthful energy she always talked with, "has Rafe invited you to our Fourth of July party yet?"

"Umm," you hesitated. "No, he hasn't said anything about it."

"Ugh," Sarah threw her head back in a dramatic motion. "I told him to text you about it. He's useless. Anyway, we throw a huge party for the Fourth every year and you have to come. There are fireworks and everything..."

Sarah's monologue faded to the background as you looked up and noticed Rafe standing at the top of the steps that lead down the pool. Your stomach flopped in the same way it always did when you saw him.

Rafe started walking down the steps and a small panic set in. His own eyes wandered across the pool deck and it was only time before he recognized you. You shifted your body slightly, trying to use Sarah to block yourself from his view.

You turned your attention back to his younger sister, afraid that you'd accidentally make eye contact with Rafe.

Crap, crap crap, you repeated in your head. Rafe was for sure heading in your direction. Even as you forced yourself to focus on Sarah, you couldn't stop yourself from watching Rafe out of the corner of your eye and he was walking straight toward you. Your 'avoid-Rafe-all-summer' plan was going to be impossible now. With every step he took, you could feel your heart beating faster. It felt just like last summer.

Rafe stopped in front of the chair Sarah was sitting in and you couldn't stop yourself from looking up at him, a smile threaten to slide onto your face. The same warm but dangerous feeling you only got when Rafe was around took ahold of you.

"Sarah," he said, cutting her off mid-sentence. "Ward's looking for you."

She jumped up with a sudden spurt of energy, "Okay, I'll go find him!" She leaned down engulfing you in another hug. "See you around y/n." She said before running off.

"Bye Sarah." You replied.

"You know, you're like my sister's favorite person," Rafe said, still standing above you. "She mentioned you were in-town for the summer..." He let his sentence trail off.

But I hadn't seen you around. You finished for him in your head.

"Yeah, we got in about a week ago." You said. The tension that hung in the air between the two of you was exactly the reason you were trying to avoid him. The last time you had seen him he'd kissed you in a way you hadn't been able to get out your head for months afterward. It was a dangerous game. Nonetheless, here he was standing in front of you and you were barely holding it together.

Your phone began to ring and the photo of Evan kissing your check from homecoming popped up with the caller id. Rafe's eyes glanced over it and an unreadable expression crossed his face.

Right, it was 4 o'clock on Wednesday. The time and day you and Evan had decided you would call each other every week.

"Uhh, I gotta get this." You said to Rafe, reaching over and picking up the phone.

"Yeah, okay. See you later y/n." He replied before walking away from you and to his friends.

Your eyes followed him all the way even as you clicked answered and Evan's voice filled your ear.

☼☼☼

A feeling of nervousness set in as you approached the Cameron's, the absurd number of cars parked outside confirming you were at the right place. You glanced over each of your shoulders worried that your mom would pull up any second to drag you back home after you lied about where you were spending your evening. You felt decently bad about saying you were going to the Club to watch fireworks and coming to the Cameron's instead but you knew your family's stance on Rafe and his dad.

It seemed like the entire population of the Outer Banks was spread across the Cameron's backyard. Adults sipped festive cocktails as little kids, hyped-up onto much sugar, weaved in between their legs, chasing one another around. You looked around hesitantly, thankful when Sarah emerged from the crowd, frosting smeared across her face.

"You made it! I'm so happy you're here!" She screamed.

"Sarah," you laughed. "You have blue frosting all over you." You used your finger to wipe it from her cheek.

"Rose ordered the most delicious cake you've ever had. You have to try it. I can get you some. Do you want some?" She asked eagerly.

"I'm okay right now. Thank you though. Have you seen Rafe?" You asked. You were at his party, after all, it wasn't like there was any point in avoiding him now.

Sarah turned and pointed to the dock where Rafe and his group of friends were standing. "He's over there."

"Great. Okay! I'm going to go say hi."

"Have fun!" Sarah replied with a smile before running off in the same direction she's appeared in.

You made your way through the crowd to the dock, the groups' attention turning to you as you approached.

"Hey," you said, shyly.

Cleo and Riley jumped up from where they had been sitting with their legs dangling in the water.

"Y/n, right?" Cleo asked before leaning in for a hug.

"Yeah. Hi! It's good to see you guys again." You replied.

"You too! Rafe said you were back in town and I was wondering when you'd finally make an appearance." Cleo said.

You look over at Rafe to find him already watching you. He pushed through Cole and Milo and was suddenly in front of you

"Um, y/n and I need to get the fireworks." He said to the group. You watched Riley shoot Cleo a confused look but Cleo just shrugged it off.

Rafe grabbed your hand and pulled you along, leaving you no choice but to follow him. You walked in silence, other than the sound of your heart beating rapidly.

Rafe stopped at a small brick shed on the side of the house. He pushed the door open and stepped inside, pulling you in after. There were kayaks and paddleboards hanging on the walls and some old lifejackets littered the floor.

"Rafe-" you tried to start but he cut you off.

"Y/n, I seriously can't go one more minute without kissing you again."

Rafe looped his arm around your waist, cupped the back of your neck with his hand, and landed his lips on yours.

For a moment, you tilted your face upwards and leaned your body into his before your senses came rushing back to you and you shoved him backwards off of you. Surprise registered on his face.

"Rafe. No. I can't do this." Your voice broke, panic coursed through your whole body. "God, I shouldn't be here. I shouldn't have come here today or followed you here."

"Y/n." Rafe said but held your hand up warning him to say quiet.

"I have to go. I have to go," you repeated. "Tell Sarah I'm sorry I missed the fireworks. I know she'll be disappointed. I have to go."

You turned to leave but Rafe grabbed your wrist and his eyes locked with yours, his expression begging you to stay.

"I have a boyfriend." You blurted out. The weight of those four words settled on Rafe's face and you jerked your arm out of his grasp. You spun on your heel and walked out the shed and putting distance between you and the boy making your life so complicated.

You crossed the Cameron's yard, trying to gather yourself and slow your chaotic, unsteady breathing. You hurried down the long driveway, making it to the road without any tears slipping out of your eyes.

Rafe had tried to kiss you. He hadn't tried, he had kissed you. And you sorta kissed him back. No, not sorta. You kissed him back. But then you stopped. You pushed him away. You realized it was wrong. You didn't want to hurt Evan. You weren't gonna hurt Evan.

The fireworks began to explode behind you, large booms thundered across the sky, their big colors illuminating the night. You didn't dare turn around watch them. They reminded you too much of Rafe: the boy pulling your head and your heart in two different directions.

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#outer banks #obx #rafe cameron #rafe cameron series #outer banks fanfiction #where it leads series #where it leads #obx fanfic #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron!high school #outer banks netflix

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ivystjamess · 3 years

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WHEN IVY RECEIVED THE EMAIL that the spring show would be spring awakening, her gut told her ‘i can’t do this show.’ eventually, her brain kicked in and told her that was a stupid thought, and she settled on the idea of playing martha. she had a couple of great moments and an emotional story ivy knew she could pull off. additionally, martha’s story was one she could portray without risking her own emotional well being. . .like she might with lead roles such as wendla. as far as ivy was concerned, it was a pretty great plan! that was until she called to share it with her dad. first, he laughed. then, when jesse st.james realized his youngest co-production was being serious, he had no hesitations reminding her just what her last name was. jesse dismissed ivy’s fabricated excuse of girls like molly pearce, margot stanley, or kenna giardi going for the lead and assured her that going for wendla was the right choice. or the only one. between the sting of disappointing her parents or directly causing herself distress, in a heartbeat, ivy would take the latter. so it was settled. come wednesday, ivy would walk into the tibideaux theater, chin held high, resume in hand, and eye on the prize that was wendla bergmann.

auditioning, to ivy, was a science that began long before stepping on stage in front of a director. step one was research of the show and material selection. and step two was rehearsal. typically, ivy would tirelessly run through her song and monologue with her parents or friends, but considering her parents were busy in new york with hello dolly! rehearsals and most of her relationships were currently on the rocks, it looked a little different for this show. this go around, she opted to recording herself on her phone and picking apart her performance, facetiming her parents when they had a free moment to give limited feedback, and insisting eli give harsher criticisms after running her audition materials for her. despite these hurdles, ivy arrived at her audition wednesday feeling comfortable and confident with her selections.

step three was focus. although waiting room etiquette was often debated, ivy didn’t bother chatting with the other auditioners like many advised one should do. she needed to keep a level head and maintain her precision before stepping into the “arena.” in fact, the entire day leading up to an audition or big performances, ivy rested her voice and hydrated to the extreme. today was no exception. she only broke that rule for vocal adrenaline rehearsal, which she had just left, and to do some vocal warm ups in the car before entering the building. by now, the regular circuit of auditioners knew not to bug ivy as she sat quietly in her chair, drank lots of water, and reviewed her song and monologue in her head. book open in her lap, ivy ran her finger over a line in hopelessly devoted to you (just in case she was asked to sing it) when the audition facilitator called her name. with a deep breath out, ivy rose to her feet, rolled her shoulders back, clutched her black binder to her chest, and entered through the doors.

this was step four. the moment she stepped inside, she flashed a bright smile in bryan ryan’s direction as she made her way to the stage. “good evening.” she greeted, pausing only when she reached him to pull out her resume and headshot to give him. it was an entirely unnecessary precaution, but one that ivy always practiced. it was only professional! what wasn’t professional though, was bryan ryan musing about how she had been a joy to work with during into the woods as she walked down the rest of the ramp, and up the steps to the stage. sure, ivy loved the compliment, but did mr.ryan have no tact? still, she thanked him with another picture perfect smile and began her slate.

“hello, i’m ivy st.james, and today i will be performing say the word by kerrigan and lowdermilk, from their groundbreaking first album, our first mistake.” it had been an easy choice once ivy had dug it out from her mom’s sheet music collection in the basement. the song musically sounded enough like some of the softer moments in the show, but lyrically it was easy to envision wendla singing about melchior, how much he taught her, how she thought of him, and how deep her love truly was. there was a lingering queasiness ivy had when thinking about stepping into wendla’s shoes like that, but there was definitely a couple of boys she could think of who had taught her a couple of things.

carrying on with her slate, ivy announced, “i will also be performing juliet’s monologue from act two, scene two. written by william shakespeare.” a charming smile, and then, “obviously.” of course ivy knew shakespearean monologues were often hit or miss, but she had a decent grasp on the material, and while the spring awakening musical was rather progressive, it’s time period was not. if all went as planned (which it should) it would showcase her ability to convey one of the most tragic love stories of all time, and wendla shared a love with melchior that was nothing if not tragic.

as she moved to the final portion of her slate, ivy faltered as a rare pit of nerves pooled in her stomach. was she suddenly agitated at the notion of solidifying her grab for wendla or was it the idea of embodying her for the course of her actual audition that left her thrown off? nevertheless, ivy was quick to shake away the feeling and conclude her slate, “i would like to be placed in any role, but i would love it for you to consider me as wendla. thank you.” and with that, she was moving to provide sheet music for the accompaniment while bryan ryan looked over her audition information. now onto what she had been brought up to do: perform.

reaching center stage, ivy looked over to the accompaniment and nodded when she was ready. as soon as the instrumentals began, the lights around her dimmed to dark, leaving her standing in a single spotlight with her feet solidly planted and a series of emotions playing across her face: gratitude, longing, love, and loss.

“sometimes when i look at you, i don't know why you’d wait. school girl in a little world, who learns everything late.”

ivy sang gently, not daring to move her feet a single step. this song would be one where she communicated feelings through her face, vocals, and sparing hand gestures. it wasn’t hidden that ivy could thrash around outrageously like some numbers in the show required, but this song wasn’t a moment like that. it was tender, soul baring, and not to be overdone. hands now rested delicately over her chest, the next lyrics slipped off her tongue in a soft stream that floated down to mr.ryan’s ears and hopefully tickled whatever he was looking for in a wendla. “i turn the light out under the covers all I think of is you. just you.”

“say the word and i just might listen. say the word, and you might get your way. loving you should be easier, but say the word, and i might have to stay.”

at the chorus, ivy revealed the faintest of smiles and continued singing with her heart as she tilted her head sideways up towards the spotlight, acting as if it’s beam were the sunny warmth of love. fully in her zone now, fleeting thoughts of the boys she’d loved raced through her mind and added a realistic quality to her performance before she reached the second verse and snapped her eyes open for the first time since she began. making eye contact with the “audience” from the second verse onward, ivy became more generous with belting and vocal runs as she tried to capture the essence of the doe eyed and naive wendla bergmann. there weren’t many roles ivy couldn’t pull off, but it was relatively easy to get in touch with this one. after all, at one point she’d been a similar type of girl as wendla.

reflecting on that time built a tightness in her chest, but only fueled her performance to be all the more powerful. was she stronger with or without that part of her in tact? as she sang, she seemed to be trying to find the answer to that question. ivy came up empty handed, emotionally and physically. all she had now was a regionals trophy and a laundry list of things that made her sad. but what was it that she really wanted? if ivy really thought about it, it was simple...

“i want to be the girl there by your side. just tell me when, just tell me how. tell me i’m ready now. today. say…”

by the emotional climax of the song, ivy was still center stage as she belted out with everything she had. with outstretched arms and tears rolling down her cheek, she utilized her vibrato and used her voice to try and push all the non-character related feelings she was currently having from her mind. it wasn’t exactly successful in the way she wanted it to be, but it certainly enhanced her performance. reaching the final set of lyrics, ivy skillfully pulled all of that energy back in and slowly brought her arms in with it as she concluded on stay.

ivy gave bryan ryan a moment to sit with the song before transitioning into her monologue. following say the word, ivy felt like she had emotional whiplash, but also, an odd sense of clarity. shortly after, she made it through the monologue as juliet with expert delivery and all the necessary elements to make it relatable to her desired role. and if anything, it was easier for ivy to get through. she was able to have fun with it. not often was it that one got to revisit a role they played in middle school!

truth be told, when all was concluded, ivy might have turned to mr.ryan with that same rehearsed smile, but she was ready to get off stage and breathe after that taxing performance. it left her a lot to sit with. fortunately, he dismissed her with an excellent job and a you’ll hear back by friday. so again, ivy thanked him, grabbed her book from the accompanist and hurried out so the next individual could head in.

now came step five, the waiting.

THE END.

#crhq:spring #mentions: molly #mentions: margot #mentions: kenna #//sorry for the background noise #//and sorry for the length!!#tldr: ivy wants wendla. she sang say the word + did a monologue from romeo and juliet while going on a bit of an emotional journey

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solitaire-dreams · 4 years

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Cycles and Scales: An analysis of Hananene’s Progression Pt 1

Because tumblr seemed to hate over 10 pictures in one text post. Wth?!

Cycles and Scales Part 2 <--

Hello, fellow shippers! I would like to take this opportunity to thank you all for the support on my other meta discussing the true chance of a Hananene kiss.

The attention on that post has encouraged me to complete this analysis (since I mentioned I planned to write a larger post, and I don’t want to fall flat on a written statement dozens have seen. Anxiety~)

Regardless, I still really enjoyed writing my analysis to give my two cents on the progression of Hanako and Nene’s relationship, and feel free to add your interpretations after reading.

This post will cover the first two topics (which will be explained below), since...

The rest of the text will be under the cut since it includes SPOILERS for...let’s say the latest manga chapter to be safe.

Thus, let us pull back the curtain and begin.

For the sake of organization, I will describe how this post is going to be divided. There are four main topics to be discussed. First, is the general cycle I have witnessed in terms of Hananene moments. Second, will be a...progression bar?? Timeline?? Basically topic 2 will discuss how Hanako’s feelings towards Nene have progressed in phases from “only friends” to “sh*t I’m in love”. Topic 3 is the inverse discussing the progression of Yashiro’s feelings. Finally, I plan to conclude with some brief thoughts on the next steps in their relationship.

Unfortunately, as mentioned before, the secret guidelines of tumblr text posts deemed the original analysis too long. Thus, this post only discusses topics 1 & 2.

So, without further ado, let’s begin.

1: The Hananene Whirlpool (TM of Solitaire)

Alright, so full discretion, I’m probably not the first person to notice this pattern, but I am the first person I know to properly summarize it.

So what is the Hananene Whirlpool?

And what’s a whirlpool doing here??

I chose this term over cycle because cycles can remain in roughly the same place when going back to a point. However, Hananene’s relationship doesn’t work like that. Each cycle pulls them deeper and deeper into their feelings, much like a whirlpool that sucks any objects trapped in it closer to the centre.

Here’s an artist rendition of the phenomena:

And now the artist’s statement:

As the visual attempts to depict, there are six stages in this whirlpool of ever increasing feelings.

1) Yashiro acquires a (pretty valid tbh) concern about the events or revelations of a trip into a boundary.

2) This is the one step that varies, but it accomplishes the same end purpose. Either Yashiro will approach Hanako about her new concern or Hanako will check in on Yashiro since she’s been avoiding him (’cause of the aforementioned concern). Both methods get Hanako and Yashiro in the same place to chat.

3) Once together, Yashiro brings up that new concern that has been weighing on or bothering her...She’s emotionally troubled, okay. This is important! Because...

4) Hanako makes himself more vulnerable in order to boost Yashiro’s mood.

5) This causes a romantic atmosphere since Hanako has temporarily taken off the mask he hides behind, allowing deeper feelings to bleed through and Yashiro to witness this.

6) So, Hanako has to murder the mood in cold blood. Love letter letdowns, Christmas tree hair in summer, and being shoved off a fricking cloud. Anything to try and restore the distance between them.

It somewhat works...But it’s an undeniable fact that the two are getting closer. And I can prove it with the next topics!

2: Hanako’s Feelings ~ A Timeline

For these timelines, there are three major stages that classify their feelings towards the other.

“Only Friends”

“Highschool Crush”

“Oh scales I’m in love”

While one might expect Hanako’s feelings to be the most difficult to determine and thus more interesting, it is quite the opposite.

If you notice, we rarely ever get any sort of internal monologue from our ghost boy. I can’t think of one canon scenario where this happened (I could be mistaken). Therefore, the feelings Hanako holds towards Yashiro are represented by actions over words. And the body cannot lie as easily as the mind, making his true feelings easier to figure out.

Disclaimer: I will not be counting the past Amanes in this timeline. There has been no canon evidence that he consciously remembers Yashiro’s time travel shenanigans, and so the impact of those events on his feelings remain unclear.

With that out of the way, let me bring up a surprising take:

Hanako only started having a crush on Yashiro towards the end of chapter 1.

It’s tempting to believe that Hanako already liked Yashiro before or not long after their first meeting due to this line:

However, I would like to bring up two points. First, this line doesn’t gain a super romantic context until he connects it to himself in particular.

Secondly, I don’t know about you, but I had friends who would say things like “Anybody would do for you, huh?” to tease them or give them a reality check. It’s not an inherently shippy phrase until Hanako makes it such.

Though, this implies that his feelings have changed throughout the chapter. When exactly? I’d argue it’s...right...here...

A running trend that occurs before Hanako allows himself to get closer to Yashiro tends to be her being upset...often because of our No 7.

Guilt.

It’s a core part of Hanako’s character. Whatever happened that led to Tsukasa’s death clearly weighs on him, despite evidence of being abused and mistreated--a situation that could cause many to snap.

He is terrified and regretful for how he has and can hurt others, and this is a key reason why he wears his more lighthearted mask. So, when he sees a girl that he clearly respects by this point and knows has less than a year to live be genuinely heartbroken about what he did...it was bound to trigger his overwhelming guilt. Then, the response of attempting amends for his actions leads him to try and stop and/or check in on her. Only to see she didn’t give her Senpai the scale. Since she learned the error of her ways. Another amendable attribute that attracts enough attention for assistant assignment.

Plus, a highschool crush.

It’s honestly more simple to tell that he’s started to crush on her after this point from his increasingly flirty behaviour.

Pinning her against a wall, “You have me,”, that “magic spell”...

An important thing to note is that his actions are...overly flirty...in a way that makes you question their sincerity. Capitalizing on his previously established trait of being a jokester, he’s able to play off these actions as teasing. Nothing serious. Probably because he already understands a longterm relationship between the two would be nearly unobtainable. At least, he’s able squeeze out the most romantic moments he can without worrying about a real relationship.

Yashiro has made it extremely clear she’s not his type,

So he’ll just reject him right?

This is where we cross over into L-O-V-E territory dear readers.

You can probably guess what scene I’ll cite as the change, but the seeds of the shift are planted all the way back in chapter 5.

The Misaki Stairs is the first point of the story in which Yashiro is truly in danger, subject to the extreme power and control Mysteries hold over their domain. At that moment, Hanako was powerless and there was a decent chance he couldn’t reach Yashiro in time. He did--thankfully--but the whole experience noticeably rattled him. To the point where he does this:

Decidedly more suggestive than his previous actions and containing a protection spell both contribute to the idea that Yashiro’s close calls at the Misaki Stairs were what spurred him to do this.

Blah, blah, blah. I think we all remember what happens after this, Hanako digging his own grave after going a step too far.

He doesn’t realize this mistake right after the kiss though, with his comment about the confession tree keeping up his trend of flirty behaviour.

It is only at the following moment in Chapter 8 does the realization strike him and the true transformation begins.

Yashiro is upset because of him (dejavu) Because she was expecting, was wanting, an actual confession.

Hanako is noticeably caught off guard for most of this scene, gaping in shock and stammering out a seemingly half-baked excuse for the kiss on the cheek.

Yashiro wanted a confession. Yashiro might return any romantic feelings he has (something previously thought impossible). Yashiro is crying. And it’s all his fault.

So, what does he do?

For the first time in the series, Hanako takes off his mask, allowing himself to be vulnerable and fully honest with her. He opens himself up, and the chance Yashiro could like him back props that the door slightly open. Though his ever increasing feelings for her become enough to push the door even wider open.

We can confirm his behaviour changed after this event since this pretty much marks the decline of the constant flirting from Hanako’s side. It still holds on for a bit into the 4 PM Bookstacks, but it’s rough once per chapter frequency beforehand has certainly diminished. Plus, after this point marks the casual contact that’s trademark to the ship.

Adding that the Hananene Whirlpool does not start until after the 4 PM Bookstacks--the first boundary visited after the Confession Tree chapter--and it requires Hanako to open up and not maintain a joking front, I think we have our winner.

This concludes the end of the first half of this post. Please wait patiently for pt 2 (it’sprobablyoutatthispointbutstill)

#jibaku shounen hanako kun #jshk #jshk spoilers #hanako kun #yashiro nene #hananene #analysis #theory #manga cap #original

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georgeharris0n · 5 years

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Blisters On His Fingers- Chapter 1 “Eskimo”

Rated: PG-13

Word Count: 2.9k

Pairing: Ringo Starr/George Harrison (Starrison)

Chapters: 1/25

Plot Summery: George can’t help but watch Rory Storm and The Hurricanes play, but John and Paul know he just has his eyes for their drummer. Ringo has some problem with his hands, and George may just see his perfect opportunity to talk to the handsome drummer. (Hamburg Beatle Era) Note: Based on @cirilee ‘s adorable Starrison art!!!! Here Check it out! You won’t be disappointed, they are precious. :’)

I hope this fic isn’t an absolute mess- just bare with me.

The thick air and beat of the band had George completely out of his head. They weren’t the best, George knew him and the lads were much better, and could really bring down the house, but that didn’t mean he wanted to miss a second of that steady tempo. It was past midnight now, and the set was nearly done, but George ought to have left by now. Their set had been finished hours ago, but here he was, sitting at the furthest table he could find watching a particular pink suited fellow bash away at the skins. The back beat, his quick wrists, the way his head bobbed back and forth, messy Teddy curls bouncing about with that cute white streak on the sides-

“George!”

A startlingly familiar voice broke George’s attention.

“Geez Paul! What do you want?

George turned to his bandmate, trying very hard to not to shove him off the chair beside him. He was being way too distracting. Too distracting from the beat of those heavy drums, either that or the beat of his heart at the moment.

“Geo, I’ve been calling you for the past five minutes. It’s getting late, we need to head back to the theater for some sleep.”

“But, can’t we-”

“Sorry George, but it’s getting real exhausting watching you gush over the Hurricane’s drummer, and y’know Paulie needs his beauty sleep.”

George stared wide eyed, opposite of Paul was John lounging with his boots rucked on the table. Had he really forgotten they were both here?

“We usually don’t mind it Geo, but you’ve done this same thing the past two weeks, and you haven’t tried once to talk to Ringo.” Paul added, shoving John’s boots off the table, and standing up to look down sympathetically at the young guitarist.

George felt his throat go dry. He hoped that the other lads hadn’t noticed, but he supposed it was strange now that he thought about those two weeks.

“I don’t know w-what you’re both on about. I don’t have a thing for him! I just appreciate his… drumming that’s all. He’s 10 times better than Pete is.” George figured he could snipe about Pete considering he wasn’t here anyhow. George definitely saw Ringo as a superior drummer, and took plenty of opportunities to point it out, though the lads may think he has other motives for it, he really saw Ringo’s talent for drumming, not just for… well, Ringo.

“Sure you do Georgie, and I’m sure you’d get to appreciate a lot more than just his drumming, if you stopped starin’ at him, and tried talking to him. Alone.” John smirked, now standing beside Paul who was sporting a very uncomfortable glare John’s way.

“What John means to say is, maybe you could give it a try, huh? Just give it a chance? You clearly fancy- or um… appreciate him, so why not at least try?” Paul affirmed with an encouraging smile.

“You both act like we’ve never spoken before or something! We see them every week after all.” George murmured, running out of excuses. It was true that the infamous Beatles knew Rory Storm and The Hurricanes. They all occasionally shared drinks or chats between sets, but it was true. George hadn’t spoken with Ringo alone with out someone else facilitating the conversation around them as a group.

“Well then! Guess we’ll leave you to it then! Paul and I are going to go get some well needed shut eye, but don’t you come home until you’ve figured out what little drummer boy’s favorite type of snog is.” John teased, while he tugged on Paul jacket sleeve who looked almost like he had half a mind to stay with George if it meant not having to hear anymore of John’s lewd banter on the walk back to their crummy sleeping arrangements.

The two left a wide eyed wreck at the table by himself. George knew from listening to each gig that the band would be done after this one last song. There was no way George was going to be able to do it. He was already petrified by John’s teasing. If he fucked this up, they’d know as soon as they saw him. The embarrassment would be plastered on his face.

No, after this last song, I’m leaving. No more of this.

Of course, it was hard to know if that were true. Considering George could melt watching Ringo hammer on those drums for the last number, a particularly loud one with a crushing drum beat. George hadn’t recognized it from his last visits, so it must have been a new edition to the Hurricane’s repertoire.

If anything George liked it a lot, he liked seeing the drummer smile as he hit the symbols with fever, clearly energized by the feel of the new song, even in the dead of night. It only made it even more disappointing when the song ended, and the band already started to disperse from the stage.

Once again, George was going to leave regretfully. He almost wished it didn’t have to end, and that he could stay and watch Ringo play forever.

George stood up from the back table, and was ready to make a beeline for the door when he heard a small familiar voice back at the stage.

“Aw shucks…”

He glanced for barely a second, and knew right away it was Ringo. He was looking down at his palms from the side of the stage. They must have been aching from those heavy drum sets of the night, especially with that last number being so raucous.

George can’t be sure where it came from, but before he could get even get to the door, he found himself sneaking away to the back of the bar counter.

It was a bit messy, but behind countless bottles of old beer, was a familiar first aid kit. A ratty white box, probably standard issue for the establishment. He remembered Paul borrowed it from the barkeep after John busted his nose in a typical bar fight. That had been real messy, John’s blood was still stained on the floor boards, nasty business that had been.

He shook away the thought, and quickly looked for something to help. Rummaging past old dried bandaids, and some empty disinfectant. George got a hold of a roll of untouched wrapping bandages. Once in hand, he took a quick peek over the counter. Ringo was alone right where George last saw him. The place was practically empty, save for the bartender and the other Hurricanes having after show drinks.

George straightened his shoulders, took a few breaths, and quickly checked his reflection on the nearest bottle of stale liquor. George ran his fingers through the tuff of hair tall upon his head making sure he didn’t look like a complete mess . With shaking hands, he gave himself one last glance, and prepared for the embarrassment of a lifetime.

Ringo sat about on a red stool, still having a look at his calloused palms. George had to admit, he looked cute, even in a dirty shit club like this. George sucked in his next breath, strode over to the handsome drummer, and pulled up a stool beside him. George attempted to give a suave smile, but quickly dissipated when he met eyes with his subject of interest.

“Hey there George! Whatcha got there?”

George went mute for a solid five seconds. That’s it. No words. He forgot how to use his vocal chords.

You daft git!

If the fellas could see him now. A fool, that’s right, a bleeding fool. Can’t even talk, doesn’t even know what to say.

“Uh..George?”

“-Thought you could use a hand.” There, he did it. A bit late, but he did it.

Might have cut him off too, but let’s just ignore that for now.

George, now finally catching up with reality pulled the end of the bandage tape.

“I mean- you’re hands bothering you?”

Ringo smiled, then looked at his palms again. “Just a few blisters, you don’t have to…”

“No really, it’s no trouble, you really were gear on those drums tonight! It’s the least I could do Ritchie.”

Ritchie? Why would you call him that? You don’t even know if he likes that? What are you-

Shaking away his inner monologue, Geo took Ringo’s palm into his hands, and started wrapping it up.

Ringo was watching George as he cared for him, he looked rather comfortable. Legs outstretched a tad. With a calm… almost endearing expression. George figured it was just his tired eyes from the long gig. Those eyes, looking now, were even more blue up close. Bluest eyes he’d ever seen alongside those drooping lids. George tried to avoid them, he wanted to make sure his wrap on Ringo had a firm hold. But they were so pretty…

“So, who’s the bird?”

All the way from left field, was the most confusing question Ringo could’ve asked. George’s eye squinted a bit, and his head tilted as if trying to find this mysterious “bird”.

“Bird?”

Face gone red, Ringo looked flushed, and slowly took his bandaged hand back. “ Oh! I just assumed- that, um… I mean, you’ve come to every gig these few weeks. I figured you might have your eyes on a girl.”

“I- no! No, girl, I mean- I don’t fancy a girl. N-no girl.” George stammered, reaching for Ringo’s other palm. Ringo seemed to relax at the statement, and allowed Geo to continue the wrap. George was only now aware of how close the two had gotten. He wondered if Ringo could hear his heart beating like it was, or if he was counting the seconds until Geo was finished and could leave.

“Almost done, promise.”

“Not too quickly I hope.” Ringo quipped with a toothy grin. George about swooned. Here he was with Ringo Starr. The lads would have field day if they saw him right now. Saw how smiley he was, or knew how much his cheeks hurt from it.

“Trust me, this is probably the highlight of my week.” George chuckled, clearly getting more courageous. Ringo somehow made it so easy, he was calm, collected, and that goofy grin was real easy on the eyes, as was everything else about the fellow. Despite Ringo being older than him, he didn’t feel like a child like he did with John and Paul sometimes. He was 19 now, not some kid, and Paul was barely any older than him anyhow. What if Ringo did see him as some kid though? George had a young face after all. Ringo was scruff n’ruff lookin’. He and the boys were even scared of him at one point before actually having the pleasure meet him.

George was nearly done, and with another quick look he noticed those pretty grey streaks on Ringo’s temples. Without thinking, George’s hand reached up to the side of Ringo’s cheek, and gently smoothed the temple streak down. Ringo flinched, not moving away, and George was just now realizing what his hand was doing. He didn’t move though, he couldn’t, he wasn’t quite sure what Ringo was thinking, or what he himself was either.

Ringo was so flustered, but the hand by his cheek and temple was so… tender, that he couldn’t help but lean into the touch.

The bandage roll fell to the floor. George’s other hand came to rest on Ringo’s lower jaw, his index finger traced the softness of his skin. He could feel Ringo’s breath exchange with his own, and gently he saw the hooded blue eyes of the drummer he so admired all these weeks.

“T-these make you look real handsome y’know.” It wasn’t really a question, just some of those weeks of frustration, and gawky coming out in the open. Geo was barely keeping it together, but he’d come this far, and Ringo seemed to be… comfortable, with all his touches that is.

Those teddy curls, and those parted lips. His eyes rested on them, and he could feel his cheeks blush. He didn’t want to ruin it, this atmosphere filled with tension, he hesitated, but those blue eyes drew him in, and soon his own closed, and he pressed his lips softly onto the other lad’s. There was no pull away, and they pressed on, testing the feeling, relishing it, actually. It was unbelievably gentle. Ringo’s lips were so soft on his, and could feel him smiling into it too.

George felt Ringo’s hands rest on his seated waist. He could feel the stubbling beard on the drummer’s chin tickle his own, causing a fit giggle to escape his mouth. They drew back, now both red faced, and clearly awe struck. Ringo leaned forward, and rested his forehead on George’s, still sporting that smile that had just rested on his very own lips. Geo could feel a chuckle in his throat. He should have done this much sooner. Had he known this would have resulted with a kiss like that…

“It’s you Ritchie.” George lamented.

“Hmm, me?” Ringo murmured, still dazed, trying to wrap his mind around that kiss…

“You’re the reason I’m here. Every night I mean, I love to watch you drum, and- I was just too scared to talk to you without the lads around.” George now moved his cupped hands from Ringo’s face. Allowing these confessions to come out in the open.

“You… like to watch me drum?” Ringo said.

“Well yes, but not really, I like… to see you.” George quickly avoided Ringo’s eyes, ringing his hands together in his lap as he scooted away slightly. George couldn’t believe he’d just told Ringo that. It sounded so stupid for him to say out loud, and Ringo probably thought he was a creep, or something. George thought he ought to just leave. He sounded pathetic-

George felt a finger hooked under his chin, gently turning his head to meet with fond eyes, and once again breaking his train of thought.

“Well, I’m right here aren’t I? Might as well have a look.”

George almost wanted to pinch himself. This was like a dream he once had, of course with less open mouth kisses on his neck… and cake, he remembered there was a cake somewhere. Seemed like a good cake, chocolate maybe? Does a Ringo like chocolate? Should he ask? Maybe he should? It would be a little off topic to say the least. Maybe he should ask about those kisses? Probably not- that would would be a little forward of him. Maybe he’ll just go with the cake.

“Gosh, looks like the bands’ left.” George broke from his recounting to turn back at the bar. Ringo was right, Rory and the gang seemed to have already hightailed it out of here without im’. It was rather secluded back here, definitely a darker spot in the place. The bartender himself was far to busy sweeping away behind the counter to even notice the two of them settled in the back.

“You probably should be off then, I still got to pack up me drums.” Ringo said standing from the stool.

George, though disappointed at the idea of leaving, felt pretty exhausted. He wished he could fall asleep right here beside Ringo but- well, this place is filthy, so not exactly the most ideal spot to pass out beside the lad you fancy.

“You don’t need any help with those?” George yawned, trying desperately to extend the time he had with Ringo as much as he could.

Ringo chuckled. “No, you go on, and get some sleep. I’ve got it. But-”

Ringo shuffled a bit, and he cleared his throat. “Will I see you again tomorrow?”

George felt his mouth open agape. Tomorrow! He wanted to see him again? Him? George Harrison? Tomorrow- wait.

“You don’t have a gig tomorrow.” George said, clear confused to how Ringo could forget he wouldn’t even be playing tomorrow.

“I know, but… will I see you?”

Oh. OH-

George smiled the dumbest smile he had ever smiled EVER.

“YES- I mean! Yes, yes I’d love to see you tomorrow.” George gushed. John was right, he was gushy wasn’t he? Who cares, Ringo Starr just may just asked him on a date, how would he not be gushy?

“Great! I’ll see you then Georgie.” Ringo quirked his lip up, and gave him a wave with a bandaged hand.

Georgie, he called me Georgie, that’s the cutest shit I’ve ever heard.

Walking out the bar entrance onto the street, George was already fantasizing of what he was going to tell John and Paul when he burst into-

Oh, wait. One last thing.

He sprinted back like mad through the bar door, and straight to Ringo and his drum kit.

“Ringo! One last thing, please don’t ask why, just know John is an absolute pain in my arse- what’s your favorite type of… kiss?” George could practically die, but the confused look on Ringo’s face faded changing into a mischievous grin.

Before he knew it Ringo’s hand slid behind his lower back, and they were pulled flush together. George gasped at the suaveness of the motion, and stared straight into those blue hooded eyes. Suddenly, Ringo leaned up to meet Geo on his tippy toes, and sweetly nuzzled his nose against George’s, then promptly pulled away with a cheeky wink, leaving a gaping George barely standing on his feet at Ringo’s answer.

“Eskimo.”

Read Chapter 2 here!

#starrison #Ringo Starr #George Harrison #beatles fic #cirilee #starrison fic #geo reaLLy likes Ringos blue eyes #ringo gets flirty at the end

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laissezferre · 5 years

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the terror (2018), last 3 eps

this is primarily for @corinthes, whom i’ve been yelling at for the past few days bc of this show. it got a bit lengthy and and i doubt you’d enjoy reading this from the chat box. spoilers beware for anyone curious enough.

i feel like episode 8 is the calm before the shitstorm that is ep 9-10 and it certainly has the feel of a filler episode, but i love it nonetheless. people talk! people have lines and are given the time to deliver them! francis and james have this important conversation even before the credits roll and that makes it all the more important. i love this scene; i see what you mean about how it belongs to a stage. it's just two guys having a heartfelt convo, beautifully acted. when the camera goes further and shows them standing apart, right in the middle of the frame, in this vast wasteland, looking at each other and having an understanding--gaawwd.

tobias's delivery of "i would like that very much" was so good! so vulnerable and open and hopeful. even now, he needs validation and it's important that he gets it from francis. and francis--having labeled the ship as a confessor--fills the ships' gap and becomes the confessor for everyone apparently. and at this point, he's reached god-like zen bc seriously he looks so put together after everyone's spilled their guts out to him. til the end, he dispenses "i forgive you" and "you did your best" and "you're a good lad" like pancakes. and he starts calling people by their first name too. and this, coming from a francis crozier who has known to be miserable and disagreeable, is called d e v e l o p m e n t. further on, when tells his lieutenants that if they got sick, he wouldn't leave them either, i thought "yes, i would die for you, i would follow you to hell and back". thank you, jared, for this performance.

i loved the almost-hanging scene too. it's a very looong scene and it's sad how so few shows actually take the time to have their characters talk! i can easily imagine this on a stage, complete with atmospheric smoke and sepia lighting. i knew that letter was gonna bite francis in the ass. i was waiting for it and hickey put down that card in the best time possible. hickey, you are a murdering, mutinous son of a bitch, but i also can't help but admire you.

ep 9 is like one sucker punch after another. god wants you to live, can we sleep, bridal carry, what can i do for you sir--this is... too much. special props tho to goodsir bc he has been through some shit. this show has added so many actors to my watch-for-next-projects list and that includes paul ready. he goes through such a transformation, so filled with hope and optimism and empathy and by the time they ask him to butcher gibson, he just looks so fucking done. we know he's going to die and it won't be by anyone else's hand. i love the part where hickey stabs gibson and they get into a struggle, but it’s less a physical struggle and more a battle of wills. can't believe they brought out the bits of glass from episode xX. his death was so beautifully shot. first, from where he sits still and looks in the direction of the camera while the tent canvass behind him thrashes wildly. that was hauntingly beautiful. then when he cuts his wrists but we can't see his face, only his spasms. and then when he pictures the flowers and shells. that broke me. he was a science man to the death.

i have words for jopson but i will reserve them for ep 10.

francis gave a service for james but they did it alone. ok then! fuck me up some more! this, plus blankly's revelation that he's gonna die soon, chips at francis' state of zen and we see him break a bit. i love how his voice breaks in "why didnt you say aything?!" and then they're laughing and crying at the same time and yeah, there is no toxic masculity in this murderland, just a whole lot of love.

this show like oprah giving out prizes. "you get a monologue! and you get a monologue! and you get a monologue!" and i love it! hodgson and tover are relatively minor characters but they are given time to speak up, and despite their shitty actions, you can't help but empathize. and their breakdowns aren't the same either. goodsir breathes heavily, hodgson is still and haunted, tover hugs himself and shudders, and they all do it so well! how is everyone in this show so good?? jared did mention that most of the cast was theater-trained so i guess that played a part.

i have to tell you that before bingeing the last 3 eps i watched almost all the terror crack videos on youtube, so these last eps were, though still heartbreaking, were also a bit funny for me, in an absurd kind of way. when james fires the rocket, i can hear "rocketman" in the background. when goodsir mixes the poison, i almost yelled "chemistry time!". it's just... i needed to make fun of it or i wouldn't surive the heartbreak. which leads me to:

jopsoooooonnn! the best boi! the goodest boi! the most loyal boi who did no wrong! apart from his death, what's more heartbreaking is that he thought crozier left him. he didn't know that the captain was abducted so he thought he's been deliberately abandoned. his hallucination reduced me to tears. he was probably starving to death and here was all this food but no, he! just! wanted! his! captain! he sees the captain in his best form--well kempt, alert, emphatic--and at the end of it, his captain is turned away from him. fuck me up seven ways to sunday. i desperately want bts pics from this scene bc the eeriness of having a full dining table in the wastes must be jarring.

little doesn't get enough credit, because while he did mess up, his loyalty is also something to be admired. they were hungry and sick and dying--they could very well have just kept on south but he was still insistent to save francis. "you would leave our captain with that devil of a man?" yes, little, you did your best. you deserved to die last.

if tunbaaq is meant to be a metaphor for nature and balance, it's absolutely fitting how it's defeated by lead and chemical poison. ultimately, how we've used technology and industrialization kills the environment--or at least that's how i read it.

i really have to applaud adam nagaitis for his performance here and i do think he deserves top billing as much as the lead cast. by the end of it, he draws as much screen time as crozier and you can even say that he holds the last 2-3 eps together. and you genuinely fucking hate his character. were those really james' boots he was wearing? does that mean they dug him up and looted him? that unforgiveable swine, may he rot in hell, but gawwd adam pulled it off well.

i've been debating with myself if it was kinder and more poetic to have crozier die at the end so that he wouldn't have to grieve or go through survivor's guilt, but for my own mental health, i'm glad he survived. it's a small mercy but i'm glad he got to live. i'm glad he got to see what happened to his men, that he saw jopson one final time, and little too. his survival also sends the message that the one most willing to adapt (and respect the culture) will survive. he tries to follow silna but stops when the chief says "it's just how we do things". he understands and he lets it go. he learns the language and the way of life--and he lives.

i've watched featurettes and interviews for this series and from there you can really see that this show was a labor of love. it was a product of collaboration, research, open-mindedness, and a solid cast and crew. you can have all the special effects, all the expensive costumes, but at the core of it, what makes a good story is Dialogue. i can honestly say that it's one of the best scripts this decade has ever produced. the showrunners set out to tell a story and they did it to the best of their ability. i'll be coming back to this series for the next few months and rewatching it many times over.

thank u, thank u, thank u for introducing this to me. now come yell at me back

#the terror #the terror amc #thoughts #i have feeling--a lot of them

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justjessame · 4 years

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Who Really Believes in Numbers Chapter 5

Colin couldn't fucking believe it. He had been in the middle of a set when Ally Darling bum rushed him on stage. The rest of the band had looked like he felt. His colossal fuck up was going to ruin them. Jesus, did she really think that this would put her in a good light? What did she think this was a rom-com?

After she tried to explain that Jake Adams wasn't for her, that she saw clearly that Colin was her fate or destiny, Jake stared at her like she had lost her mind. Who was this woman? Honestly, Jasmine would shake her senseless trying to get her straight.

"Ally, stop." Colin said, bringing her monologue to a standstill. "I'm sorry, but you and I are not happening." He watched her face fall. "I wasn't completely honest with you from the beginning. I love someone else."

"What are you talking about?" She didn't look heartbroken, just confused. "You've slept with half of Boston, Colin. Who's the LUCKY girl?" Sarcasm, cute.

Colin shook his head. "You'd never understand. Jasmine, we've been together since we were children. She left to go to NYU six years ago and before she left she wanted to-" He struggled to explain and went with the simplest. "We agreed to be in an open relationship. We were always the end game, Ally."

Her eyebrows raised. "You offered me a chance at a relationship with you. What was that?"

She was right, what was that? Sighing he realized how deeply he'd dug this hole. "Jas and I had a hiccup in our relationship. And being an idiot, I tried to convince myself that it was a sign that you and I should try it." Realizing the hiccup was partially her fault, he sent her a look. "The upset in our relationship was sort of your fault."

She shot the look right back. "MY fault? And how is that?"

"The day you took my phone, the first time. You got a call for me, a woman. That was Jasmine. You told her that we were together, at least that's what I assume. I found a call from her that was answered, and the calls before and after were calls you made. Am I wrong?" Colin felt like he was passing the blame around, but truth be told, he was angry at Ally. She was so focused on herself and her wants that she assumed everyone else was part of making her whole.

Ally paled, she remembered the call. "You never told me that you had someone important, how would I have known?"

"Because, Ally, you should have noticed that she was number one on my contacts, and that every time you've taken my phone by accident, how often did women call asking for me?" He asked it without venom. "You didn't care. You made an assumption and ran with it."

"How do you know that this Jasmine will even take you back?" She asked, eyes flashing. "Even with an open relationship, hearing that you're taken by someone else probably pissed her off. We could still try this, Colin." She reached for him, but he stepped back. "Why not try something new?"

Colin glared at her. "I don't care if she takes me back or not, Ally. This," he gestured between them. "Will not be happening. You don't consider me the 'one' until it suits you. You and I aren't right for each other, Ally. We never were and never will be."

Ally turned on her heel and stomped away. Pissed, but not heartbroken Colin noticed. Good, he thought, stepping back on stage and trying to salvage his job. The last thing he needed was a woman who was wishy washy about her feelings. He knew one more thing as he started the next song and noticed several single women glancing his way. He'd be going home alone tonight. And for the foreseeable future. He was done.

Colin sang and formed a plan. It was time to get Jasmine back.

A BAR ACROSS BOSTON~ IN JASMINE AND COLIN'S OLD NEIGHBORHOOD

"Come on, Jas!" Christine yelled over the music. "At least pretend you're having fun!"

Jasmine rolled her eyes. This wasn't her idea of fun. And it wasn't her idea to be here at all. When her hometown best friend had called and insisted on a girl's night out, she'd tried multiple excuses to get out of it. None worked.

"I'd pretend if I could, Chris, but you and I both know I'm no fake." She gave a pained smile. "I'd rather be having dental work."

Chris laughed. "You look like you're having dental work." She sighed and pulled Jasmine to a corner booth, giving up on trying to get her bestie to dance. The booth was quieter, and sitting there she noticed how tired and upset her friend still looked. "The point of this was to get your mind off Colin."

Jasmine shook her head as Chris waved for a waitress' attention. "I know. I'm sorry, I just can't seem to stop thinking about him. Pitiful, huh?"

Chris ordered their drinks and shook her own head. "No, it's not. Jas, you two were together for so long, of course you're upset. Hell, the whole neighborhood is going to be upset. I bet they've been planning your wedding for years."

A dark chuckle escaped Jas' lips. "A wedding. That's rich. I gave him permission to play the field and didn't expect him to find someone else. I'm an idiot." Their drinks arrived and Jasmine shot hers back. Screw it, she decided, getting drunk could be cathartic.

The night progressed in a blur of drinks and, once she finally got a good buzz, dancing. She and Chris were on the dance floor when she noticed her friend's eyes dart to the bar. Rolling her own, she assumed her best friend saw a hottie and was interested. She was about to tell her to go ahead when Chris tried to divert her attention elsewhere. Curiosity peaked, she looked where Chris' attention had been focused.

At the bar were a few of Colin's bandmates. Scanning quickly, heart pumping harder than even the dancing could be credited for, she let out her breath when she realized that Colin wasn't with them. She contemplated going up to them. They were friends of hers after all, but she decided against it. Chris' stress left her when she realized that Jas wasn't interested in confronting them.

Unfortunately they didn't get the memo. Chris watched as Joe and Matt came strutting toward them. Jasmine had gone back to dancing, but Chris' hand on her arm and a nod of her head caused her to look to where Colin's bandmates were approaching. Sighing she nodded and kept dancing as they approached.

"Christine and Jasmine!" Matt yelled over the noise. "Fancy seeing you two here. Been a long time, Jas."

Jasmine nodded her agreement and kept dancing. Hoping against hope that neither Matt, nor Joe would have to bring Colin up, but knowing it was a useless hope.

Joe was watching her carefully, and noticed her hand still wore the ring that Colin had given her. He raised an eyebrow, wondering if they weren't actually broken up. After witnessing the scene at their gig tonight with the blonde neighbor, he was confused.

"Colin's been out of sorts lately." He mentioned casually, judging her reaction. There was a tightness around her eyes, but she didn't say anything. She continued dancing, but it was less frantic and excited, now it looked like it was something she had to keep up. Pretenses.

"Yeah, he had a really rough night. Thought his drama would fuck up our job tonight." Matt agreed, taking a swig from his beer. "That chick just barged onto the stage and took him away for a chat."

That's all Jasmine had to hear, she was done. Clearly Colin's new girl was the center of his world. Anyone who could command his attention during his music was special. She rolled her eyes and walked away. She was done. Thanks for cementing the loss of her relationship, guys, she thought. She waved Chris off. Her house was within walking distance and she needed the air. She wasn't afraid of the darkness, she knew this neighborhood like the back of her hand.

The fresh air helped sober her. She was still a little unsteady on her feet, but she made her way carefully along the path home. So it really was over, she thought and had to stop herself from starting the frightening laughter that would make her start sobbing. Maneuvering along the glowing path, she thought about their past. Before she'd been accepted to NYU. Before she made the stupid decision to give him free reign on sex with other women. She'd never admit it, but she gave him the out, but never took it for herself. Touching another man, any other man didn't appeal to her in the least.

Guys at the bars she'd been forced to frequent during her college years had tried to hit on her. She gave in to a kiss or two, but each time Colin's face, his touch, the kisses they shared would rear up and she'd pull back and shake her head. No one had gotten further than a kiss. It just didn't feel right to her.

She didn't begrudge him taking advantage of what she'd offered him. Jasmine was honest when she said they were too young to not explore other options. Obviously he'd found something more than what they had, while she was stunted. No one would be what Colin had been to her. And even now, wearing the ring that she should have taken off as soon as the other woman picked up his phone, she couldn't really imagine a future without him. Guess being a spinster sounds OK.

She was nearly home when her cell rang. Holding it up to check who the caller was, she squinted. It couldn't be. She was clearly too drunk to read or it was wish fulfillment. He couldn't be calling NOW.

She struggled with her emotions for a split second before pressing ANSWER. Holding the phone to her ear, she felt her heart clench waiting for the last shoe to drop.

#Colin Shea X OFC #what's your number #angst #miscommunication #alternative universe

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jamiemac26 · 6 years

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Our Album - Part Six

Say Something - By Jamie Mac

A Taron Egerton FanFiction - Our Album Masterlist

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Hayden studied the content of her small suitcase, mentally making a list of everything she had packed and what else she needed to stuff in there. “Olivia,” She shouted for her friend, listening for footsteps as they padded down the hallway.

“What’s up buttercup,” Liv leaned against the doorframe.

“Have you seen my blue heels,” Hayden shouted from her closest.

“Aren’t they right here,” Olivia toed at the pair of heels poking out from underneath Hayden’s bed.

“What? Oh, that’s right, I wore them the other night. I can’t seem to find anything.” Hayden picked up her shoes and carefully arranged them with her other belongings.

“You two have been together for how long?” Olivia bounced down on the bed, moving things around in the case. “Seriously, where is the sexy underwear?”

“Stop, I’ve got it all organized,” Hayden slapped at her hand. “It’s been eight months, why?”

“Have you two talked about what this trip might entail, ya know, for your relationship?”

Hayden nodded her head, “We’ve discussed it a little bit. We both want to continue to keep things quiet but we haven’t figure out just how we’re going to accomplish that.”

“Are you going to the show with him?”

“He wants me in the audience, so yes.”

“Do you think he’s going to say anything?”

“About what?”

“About the fact that he’s not single.”

“Oh,” Hayden tossed in her toiletry bag, zipping up the case and setting it on the floor by her door. “I hope not.”

“So you really don’t want people to know about you two, even though it’s been almost a year?”

“Why does anyone need to know Liv? It isn’t anybody’s business who he’s dating.”

“Hayden, don’t be daft.”

Hayden looked at her friend, a slight smile on her face as she shook her head. “I like my bubble Olivia. I like that no one else is involved. I don’t want any of that to change.”

“Hon, I know all of that and I love that you are so innocent and naive but you’re dating a guy who lives in the public eye and eventually you are going to have to face the truth of that.”

Hayden sat down on the bed next to her best friend, sighing deeply, “I know Liv...I’m not completely naive. I’m just not sure that I’m ready for things to change.”

“Then why are you going?”

“He wants me to go with him and I’m not sure I want to be away from him for an extended period of time again. If there was a downside to dating Taron, it would be the fact that he’s never around.” She leaned her head on Olivia’s shoulder, feeling the comfort of her friend’s hand on her arm.

“I have to say, I wasn’t entirely sure that you two would make it this long, but now, I don’t want to see the two of you split up. I like him kid...he’s good for you.”

Hayden chuckled, “You think? I’m pretty sure he’s trying to slowly corrupt me.”

“And that is exactly why I like him!”

Hayden sat up, slapping her friend playfully on the arm. “I do not need to be corrupted. You’re supposed to be on my side.”

“I’m on the side of the person who makes you happy,” Liv stood up, grabbing Hayden’s carry on luggage and her small purse. “What time is he getting here?”

“He should be here within the next hour,” Hayden glanced at her phone. “I’m going to miss you Liv but please do not destroy our apartment.”

“Oh come on, have a little bit more faith in me,” Olivia placed Hayden’s belongings near the front door. “Everything will be cleaned up before you ever get back.”

Hayden laughed, knowing full well what the state their apartment would be in when she got back.

His dressing room contained a counter full of snacks and drinks, everything specific to his liking. A suit hung on the back of the door, ready for him to slip on, making himself presentable for the live audience. Hayden had been allowed access to his dressing room while he waited until his curtain call, at which time, she’d be escorted to her front row seat. She shifted on the small couch, her nerves getting the best of her.

Taron tapped messages into his cell phone, his eyes glancing her way every few seconds. He finally stood up, plopping down next to her. He took her small hand in his, stroking the back of it with his thumb. “You’re awfully cute when you’re nervous.”

She smiled, shaking her head, “Are you trying to make me less nervous?”

“Man, how did you ever guess my evil plan?”

She leaned over, pressing her lips to his. “Thank you,” She whispered as she pulled away, her head resting on his shoulder.

Hayden hadn’t been to America’s West Coast for several years but the city of Los Angeles hadn’t actually changed that drastically. She had agreed to join Taron on this mini press-tour, only after he’d begged a little. She hadn’t wanted to come, mainly due to her need to keep their relationship private. Over the last few months, they had managed to hide the fact that they were together from basically everyone not in their inner circle. Taron hadn’t been dealing with too much press during that time, as he’d been in the throve of filming movies. Now that Robin Hood was nearing its release date, the need to start the media buzzing was pressing in on them both. Hayden wasn’t sure she was prepared for them to be ousted, but Taron kept reassuring her that if they were, they would be fine, they’d make it through the worst of it.

A knock on the door brought them out of their reverie. Taron stood, opening the door to a tall thin man adorned with headphones. “Mr. Egerton, your call time is in 15 minutes.” With that he turned and walked off back down the hallway.

Taron shut the door, removing the suit from it’s hook. He stopped in the bathroom doorway, “You going to wait for me or do you want me to have them escort you out there now?” His eyes studied her as he waited for an answer.

“I think now,” Hayden stood.

Taron reached for her hand, pulling her too him. He kissed her, slow at first but quickly increased the pressure. His hands cradled her cheeks, his tongue swiping along her bottom lip, begging for entrance. She allowed it, greedily, her body beginning to melt into his as her nerves fled her body. She moaned loudly as he pulled away but he just chuckled softly as he reached for the phone. A few moments later and she was following the same tall man down the long hallway. He escorted her to a row of nearly empty seats and she was very aware of the many pairs of eyes there were clocking her every move. She was aware of their whispers as she took her seat. She had been standing next to Taron when he had been told that it was going to be a full house, many expected to be there to see him. She took a deep breath and focused on the stage. The band had just finished their quick run through and another man in a headset was standing in the middle of the platform.

All eyes were now focused on this lone figure, and Hayden was grateful for their stares moving away from her. He chatted them all up, giving them the rundown of the rules. Hayden kept her gaze forward, moving only slightly as a few more took their seats in the row with her. The two young women who sat next to her were contest winners, their squeals of delight giving away their fan status. She gathered that they were there to see Taron from the movies and posters that they clutched in their hands. She wanted to lean over and say something, talk to them about the man that they were all enamored with but wouldn’t that instantly give her away. No, instead she just sat quietly, smiling at the girls when they accidently bumped her arm in their excitement.

The host came out. The crowd cheered. The host started his monologue and the crowd laughed. Hayden even found herself relaxing and falling into the pace of the show. Throughout the commercial breaks, the band would play and the crowd was entertained with video clips and prize giveaways. The host came back and after a few more humorous jokes he introduced his first guest. As Taron’s name was announced the crowd erupted in enthusiastic cheers and screams. Hayden found herself swelling with pride for him. She had been so wrapped up in their bubble for so long that she hadn’t been fully aware of the love the world had for him. Her grin grew, extending across her face. He ran out onto the stage, looking quite dashing in the well fitting suit. More hoots and hollers were elicited from the crowd and if it were possible, Hayden’s grin grew larger.

Taron Egerton...welcome welcome. It’s good to see you again man. Please sit and I haven’t heard a crowd this excited for someone in quite some time.

Thank you, thank you. It’s good to be back.

So we’ll get to all the juicy details about Robin Hood in a minute, but I hear that you’re off to film an Elton John movie next, am I correct?

Yes you are.. I leave next month to start filming. I will give away a little bit of a secret though, I’ve recorded all the songs for the film and you will all be very excited.

Taron pointed out to the crowd and they squealed in response. Hayden was quite taken with the ease at which he held himself while in front of so many people. He was a natural and he acted as if he truly enjoyed this part of the gig.

What does a day in the life of Taron Egerton look like?

When I’m working, it’s insane… So when I’ve got downtime, it’s more down, like seriously inactive really. I’ll spend the nights with my girlfriend watching Netflix, or we’ll go camping. Friday nights, I like getting together with friends for a beer down at the pub. I’ve got this solid group of guys that I went to school with and when I’m home, we’ll spend a good amount of time together. I wish I could say I live this glamorous rock ‘n’ roll life, but that’s just not the case.

Hayden sucked in her breath. No No No, he promised he wouldn’t say anything. He promised that their secret would stay a secret. She could almost hear their bubble popping. She felt light headed. ‘Calm down Hayden, calm down! He didn’t say your name, no one knows it’s you.’ She whispered to herself.

Would you ever consider moving to Los Angeles full time, or even maybe, New York?

Ya know, at first I found it a bit foreign, almost daunting but now that I’ve spent a solid amount of time in both places, I think I’d love it. If I had the disposable cash, I’d think about getting a place but man, that’s a commitment, enit!

During the next commercial break, Taron found Hayden in the crowd, his eyes locking onto hers. She blushed, deeply and his only response was to wink at her. She shook her head, ducking her gaze as to hide the deep crimson dying her cheeks. The girl sitting next to her nudged her and Hayden looked to her right.

The girl smiled, leaning over, “Oh my god, he just winked at you. You’re so lucky.”

This only made Hayden’s blush deepen and all she could do was smile. She was panicking on the inside, praying that the girl didn’t connect the wink and the answer together. Praying that she didn’t figure out that she was the girlfriend.

The commercial ended and Taron’s beaming face was back for the cameras.

So Taron, can we talk about this movie that you’ve got coming out soon… It’s a beginnings story right?

Yes, it’s an Origins story of how Robin becomes this champion of the people and I do this insane style of archery that allows me to fire in quick succession. We have a great villain in the sheriff played by Ben Mendelsohn. It’s a bit dark and gritty..not like any Robin Hood that we’ve seen before.

What made you decide to do a film like this? It’s a bit different than the stuff you’ve done before?

I think that the joy of this job is the diversity of the projects. I’ve been lucky enough that I’ve had scripts come my way that are different and I’ve had the freedom to try them. I really don’t like the idea of being stuck in a box. It’s my first foray into a big-budget film without Matthew Vaughn, so it’s a bit scary but it’s what made it even more appealing. I love taking on challenges that make me not only grow as an actor but as a person as well.

This is an all star cast, with the likes of Jamie Foxx and Jamie Dornan.. You have this great habit of starring in movies with some fabulous actors and there always seems to an amazing chemistry amongst you.

This cast is amazing, truly amazing. Sometimes there is just an ease between two people, or in this case there are several, and it creates a level of playfulness that comes through onscreen. I have been very blessed in the simple fact that I get to work with so many lovely actors from all different backgrounds. We have a ball on set, it’s a real laugh.

So how was the preparation for this film different from the Kingsman films? Were the workouts as intense?

No, no they weren’t near as intense. Well, I take that back, they were intense in the strictness of diet and weight training I had to do, but the stunt training wasn’t as crazy as it was for Kingsman.

Are the fans going to be pleased with what they get to see in this film then? Are we going to see you in tights?

Ha Ha, no man. I told them I wouldn’t be wearing any tights. My girlfriend was a little disappointed though when she found out. She said that even David Bowie wore tights for a film, but tights, no man they are not my thing. I will say this, there are quite a few scenes where I am shirtless, hence the strictness of the diet, but that’s all I’m saying.

She has a point. I think you could pull off the tights.

Jamie Foxx said the exact same thing but I don’t know, I don’t really have the legs for tights, there a little on the short side.

The audience laughed. Hayden stayed silent. Taron winked in her direction once again and the girl sitting next to her wouldn’t stop staring at her. Hayden wouldn’t turn to acknowledge the unspoken question hanging in the air between them. The conversation between Taron and the host continued but Hayden couldn’t hear them. The blood pulsating in her ears drowned out their words. It wasn’t until the tall thin man with the headphones tapped her on the shoulder that brought her back to reality. She hadn’t even noticed that Taron had left the stage, that the interview had ended.

“Hayden, I am so sorry. It slipped out before I could stop it. I told you I wouldn’t say anything and I go and say it twice. God, you look really pale,” Taron fawned over her, taking her by the arm and guiding her towards the couch. “Please love, say something.”

Hayden looked at him. His blue-green eyes watching her with severe intensity. “I’m okay,” Was all she could muster.

Taron pulled her to him, his arms enveloping her in his warmth. “I know that we didn’t plan things this way babe, but it’s out there now and we need to start seeing this...us, differently.”

Hayden shook her head, “What if they hate me Taron?”

“What if who hates you?”

“Them, your fans.”

“Love, they won’t hate you. They might not like this at first, but my real fans will respect that I’m in love with a kind, funny, smart, sexy and beautiful woman and they’ll see how happy she makes me.”

Hayden felt like she was going to cry. Each one of his words ebbing away at the fear that threatened to consume her. “What if I’m not good enough?”

“Good enough for who? My fans?”

Hayden nodded her head, “What if they don’t think I’m good enough for you?”

“What does their opinion matter? You are good enough for me Hayden, far better than I deserve.”

The tears dropped onto her cheeks and he carefully wiped them away with his thumb.

“Please don’t cry. This will all be okay, I will make sure that it’s all okay.” Taron kissed her forehead, keeping his arms tight around her waist.

She relaxed into him, the tears subsiding. She pulled her head back, looking at him, “I trust you Taron.”

“That’s all I ask. You ready to get out of here?”

“Yes please. Can we get food?”

He laughed, “You realize that we’re both always hungry? I think our entire relationship revolves around food.”

She giggled, accepting his hands as he pulled her to her feet. “It could revolve around worst things.. At least with food we get something out of it.”

“You are the best,” His lips found hers, the kiss soft and sweet.

They were all smiles as they exited the restaurant, the laughter having carried over from their conversation at their table. Taron’s arm was wrapped protectively around Hayden’s shoulder and her hand rested on the small of his back. Their bodies were pressed together, very much the picture of two people in love. Hayden was feeling safe again, like his slip during the interview was a thing of the past, a minor error that hadn’t affected them in anyway. Her head was thrown back, her hand clutching at her stomach as she succumbed to the giggles. They were both so wrapped up in one another that neither noticed the cameras or the men behind them. The flashes were blinding and for a moment, they both froze. Taron was the first to act, his body moving in front of hers, shielding her from their intrusive view. Hayden felt the fear and panic creeping back, exploding the protective bubble that she felt had been repairing itself. She ducked her head, hiding her face behind his shoulder. She stayed close as he moved through the crowd, trying to get to the haven of their awaiting car. Taron held the door as she climbed in. He’d taken his jacket off, and she used it as a shield, continuing to obstruct their view. Once he was seated next to her, their world backed out by the dark windows, Hayden let the dam break and the tears flowed down her cheeks.

No words were exchanged between them on the ride to the hotel, and Taron thanked the stars that no paparazzi were waiting for them when they arrived. He exited first, making absolutely sure that no cameras were anywhere in the vicinity before motioning for Hayden to climb out. The tears had stopped but her eyes were still red and raw with emotion. Taron didn’t know what to do, or what to say to make her feel better. This was not the trip that he had planned. Everything had been so great at dinner and to have it shattered the way it was, destroyed him. This was his fault. He never should have said anything. He should have kept his promise to her. Damn his big mouth. The silence continued as they rode in the elevator to their floor, still no words were exchanged until the door to their room was shut tight behind them.

“Hayden, please say something,” Taron leaned against the door, his eyes focused only on the woman in the room with him. He used his foot, propelling him forward. He approached her but stopped short as he noticed her small flinch. His world starting spinning. He took another step towards her and she took a tentative step away from him. “Hayden,” He pleaded.

She looked at him.

“Hayden, please… will you please say something.” Taron tried again to approach her, this time she didn’t move. He extended his hands and waited.

She looked at them, her hands slowly reaching in their direction.

His fingers closed around hers and he gently tugged, wanting to bring their bodies together. She allowed herself to be pulled towards him and she melted into him as his arms wrapped around her shoulders. He softly stroked her hair, whispering in her ear, “Please say something.”

#taron egerton #taron imagine #taron egerton imagine #taron egerton fanfiction #taron egerton x oc #taron egerton chapter story #kingsman #taron egerton fanfic #robin hood origins #Our album

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multiverseofmiracleshq · 5 years

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THIS POST CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR AVENGERS: ENDGAME !!

STAGE II | PART II ( destiny is fulfilled ) → MORAG: 2014. arriving on morag, it was up to james rhodes & nebula to find the power stone before an outlaw idiot named peter quill did. while they found the stone, they also found that they weren’t the only ones there looking for it and a trio familiar face meant trouble.

THIS IS THE OFFICIAL COMPLETE CHAT LOG COVERAGE OF THE IC

M O R A G : 2 0 1 4

NATASHA: They had done it. They had actually done it. Although the day had yet to be saved the fact that the Quantum technology had worked was something that Natasha could barely comprehend. For years she had been sitting, waiting and planning for that special something that would tip the scales and now they had it. The ship vibrating under them, Natasha helped Clint ease the space ship ( her - the kgb spy - was piloting a spaceship ) to the ground where it made a loud thud as it connected to Morag. As the doors hissed open she followed Rhodey and Clint out onto the planet to make sure that they were ready.

RHODEY: Rhodey craned his neck as he watched Nebula ease the pod they would be using to the ground. “Good, Blue. Drop it down. Yeah, mhm. To the left. Line it up on the line. Down, down.” He coached.

NATASHA: Kicking at a weird alien creature that was running around, Natasha cracked a smile at where Rhodey was. “C’mon, guys. Chop chop. We’re on the clock.”

RHODEY: “All that? Really helpful.”

NEBULA: After Nebula finished programming the coordinates for Natasha and Clint, she proceeded to join them and Rhodey on the surface. Her first steps onto Morag left her feeling tense, even as her teammates joked around and prepared to split ways for the mission. “The coordinates for Vormir are set.” She let them know, standing off to the side. “All you have to do is not fall out.”

NATASHA: Reaching out to hug Rhodey, Natasha pulled him close. “Take care, okay?” She would have hugged Nebula but it didn’t seem right. She settled instead for a smile and a nod.

RHODEY: Saying goodbye to Nat and Clint wasn’t as hard as he thought. They had a job to do and so did he and Nebula. They’d have time for sentimentals when it was all over. “Go get that Stone, okay? No messing around.” If anyone could do it, it would be the two who were once Strike Team Delta. Nat and Clint knew how to take care of each other. “Hey, watch each others six.” He tacked on at the end.

CLINT: Clint followed behind, giving Rhodey a nod of affirmation in lieu of a goodbye, “Hey– you got this.” He wasn’t entirely familiar with Nebula, nor was he aware of her trustworthiness as of yet, but she seemed to have a pretty steady blue head on her shoulders. With that observation, he stepped onto the ship with Natasha.

NEBULA: Nebula had been with these people for years now. She cared for them, in her own way. Being a part of a team wasn’t ever something she thought possible, but here she was. And even though Nebula kept things short and to the point, she hoped that they all knew how she felt. Natasha’s nod was enough, and Nebula gave her one back. Every time she thought about the place Nat and Clint were going, her stomach flipped. None of this was easy, but she was grateful that it wasn’t her going to Vormir. Her sister was murdered on that planet. It would have been difficult to set foot in that place, even if at this time, that horrible thing hadn’t happened yet. After the ship had taken off everything went quiet, and Nebula was a bit lost in thought.

RHODEY: Believe it or not, Rhodey had gotten decently close with Nebula over the past few years. She’d crack a joke, he’d laugh. Vice versa. It was nice but neither were super over the top about being friends. Rhodey could respect, and the silence between the two was far from uncomfortable. He took a few steps as he looked around. “--’kay, so, uh, we just wait for this Quill guy to show up and then he leads us to the Power Stone. Is that it?”

NEBULA: Nebula was clearly uneasy. She looked to Rhodey, trying to hide the obvious anxiety on her face and failing. “We should take cover–” She turned her back to him, taking a few steps, aimlessly looking for a hiding spot. “We aren’t the only ones in 2014 looking for the stone.”

RHODEY: They weren’t the only — “Wait, wait, wait. What? Who else is lookin’ for these Stones?” Rhodey moved closer to Nebula even though she still faced away. It should have just been them and the idiot Quill. That’s it. Morag wasn’t exactly a populated planet.

NEBULA: “My father. My sister. And.. me.” Maybe she should have said something sooner, said something to the team before they all left. But it wouldn’t have changed their plans.

RHODEY: And it got weirder. “And you?” His voice was hesitant. Skeptical. “Where are you right now?”

NEBULA: “Most likely, my sister and I have been called back to our father’s ship by now.” Nebula recounted that day. “When he heard word of the Power Stone’s location, he sent us to a ship run by a man named Ronan. It’s the start of how we come in contact with Quill. But we should hide now.” She changed the subject quickly, ducking behind something nearby and waiting for Rhodey to follow.

RHODEY: Once they were in position, Rhodey crouched down beside Nebula. The arrival of Quill wasn’t hard to miss. Nebula’s psuedo brother-in-law was singing and dancing around. Rhodey bobbed his head, trying not to be judgmental. He failed. “So, he’s an idiot.” It was a statement and not a question.

QUILL: Bounty hunters – or as he liked to refer to himself: a rare item aquiree. No death, not much at least, and if anything, Quill was more of a booty hunter, if you got his gist. Settling his foam padded headphones over his ears, he set his cassette tape to play and as a late era symphony played in his ears (aka Come and Get Your Love by Redbone) Quill meandered his way across the empty landscape. Of course, he had a tune to his step, and a song in his voice, but he usually lacked any sense of shame when no one was around to look. Besides, with his notoriety, anyone showing up would recognize him for what he was: a legendary outlaw. As the chorus hit, he spun in a wide circle, catching himself just at the end where he went into a tune-filled slide, only to collide with the tough metal of a —

RHODEY: One arm extended was all it took. The head of the space pirate? thief? idiot? connected solidly with the sturdy arm of the War Machine armor and he was instantly knocked out cold. Rhodey watched Nebula dig around his bag for a long minute. “What’s that?” He finally asked.

NEBULA: Once Nebula found what she was looking for, she stood up and held it in front of her while a small bit of relief washed over her. “The tool of a thief.” She gave Rhodey a nod and then headed over to the run down building where the stone was hiding. At the entrance she used the Quill’s tool and opened it with ease, and even while the doors were still sliding open she took a step forward to make her way inside.

RHODEY: Seemed useful. As Nebula used it to open the door, Rhodey watched the stone and metal slowly reveal the interior chamber where the orb was being hung in the middle of the room. As soon as she was moving, Rhodey shot out an arm to grab hers. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. This is the part, y’know, where spikes come out with skeletons on the end of them and everything.” He made a gesture.

NEBULA: Rhodey’s attempt to stop her from going in wasn’t forceful, but she paused nonetheless. As he explained his reasoning, her normally straightforward expression hinted towards disbelief at the ridiculousness he was spouting. “What are you talking about–?” But she knew his answer would be even more ridiculous, so she turned away from him with a small shake of her head and entered the ruins anyway, hoping he would drop his monologue and follow her in. It was dark in the chamber, the only sources of light being the one Rhodey held in front of him and the energy field protecting the stone. Nebula took a brief second to look over the cage it was held in and then reached forward with her left arm, the one made completely from inorganic materials. Her hand seethed as it passed through the energy shield, glowing a bright orange as it began to burn and melt away. But there was no indication that it caused her any pain, and within moments she had grabbed the orb containing the stone and pulled it out. Her arm was damaged, still glowing from the heat, smoke curling up and away as it cooled. She turned and dropped the orb in Rhodey’s hand before inspecting herself, seemingly unaffected by what she had just done. She had felt the heat, felt part of herself quite literally burn away, but it wasn’t the same as before. These parts of her would forever be different, a reminder that she wasn’t whole. But as Rhodey’s gaze stayed glued to her, Nebula was forced to look away. “I wasn’t always like this.” She whispered, almost ashamed that she had let him see her like this.

RHODEY “–When you walk into a place called The Temple of the Power Stone there’s gotta be a bunch of booby traps.” Nebula kept walking though and Rhodey couldn’t help but shake his head. “…Okay then. Alright. Go ahead.” Walking behind her with his light held over his head, Rhodey paused and watched Nebula grab the orb even as her arm seemed to burn down to the metal frame. There was something intense about Nebula. Anyone who met her could see that and the still steaming orb dropped into Rhodey’s armored hand as her own smoldering was a sign of that. He watched her as she stared at her own hand, the fire singed appendages dangling in the air between them and he felt – No, not pity. He didn’t pity her because he didn’t think she wanted to be pitied. But he felt something. Maybe a remorse that someone had taken her and warped her into something she didn’t seem to know. At her motion his eyes snapped up to her face. When she spoke his gaze dropped to the floor, lips tucked in against one another. “Neither was I.” He admitted, voice low and devoid of bravado. For someone who had always known who he was and what he wanted it was hard. It was hard to wake up and feel the stillness of his own legs. It was hard to take them off at night knowing what was going to happen as soon as sleep cleared his mind. He had fought a war knowing what the risks and outcome could be but it was still hard to look down and realize that the only way he could walk was because of a gift that Tony had given him. A gift, from a friend who had started a war that Rhodey had jumped headfirst into. He always had. War was something he had learned. It was coded into him, he was a soldier and that’s why he believed it when he said “But we gotta work with what we’ve got.” The two made eye contact then, a moment coming and going. There they were: two people outside of their time with bodies outside of their control. “Let’s go.” He broke the silence. Snapping on his Quantum traveler, the white suit covered the War Machine armor. “Three, two, one…” And with that, Rhodey was gone as he fell into the Quantum Realm and was yanked back towards the present.

NEBULA (2014): As Rhodey and Nebula did what they needed to do on Morag, the Nebula that belonged in 2014 had her own business to attend to. The fight was beginning to get on her nerves– they should have finished this ages ago. And it was from that frustration that Nebula reared up with a scream, lunging for the closest adversary and swiping with the blades she held in each hand. She landed one final blow, but it distracted her from the grenade that landed next to her, and when it went off it sent her flying back. Another much larger alien approached her as she sat there stunned, and for a moment there was fear in her eyes. But before she even had a chance to move, the enemy in front of her was sent flying up and into the energy stream behind her. Just in time. It was Gamora who had saved her skin, of course. Was Nebula surprised? No. But it made her blood boil, and she let out a groan as her sister approached her. ”I could have handled that.”

GAMORA (2014): Another day, another mess to clean up. Or, as Gamora had thought about it: another day in hell. Whatever fight they were engaging in was not one that she was interested in. They letted blood on Thanos’ word alone and that was the law. The way things were supposed to be. For as long as she had known Nebula ( which had been most of her life at this point ) Gamora had gone head to head with her sister and come out victorious each time. Even when they weren’t sparring with one another Gamora had fallen into the routine or besting her and after listening to Nebula’s childlike scream and near fatal failure, Gamora intercepted with a shout of her own as her sword quickly felled the one who almost dispatched Nebula. A part of her looked at the blue alien sitting in front of her and wanted to smack her in the face for being so caught up in Thanos’ games. If Nebula hadn’t been so eager to please one who already saw her as a tool alone maybe they could have gotten somewhere. Emerging from the smoke, Gamora sighed and sheathed her weapon as she moved to pace around her sister. “You’re welcome.” Her tone was smug but tired. This had happened too many times. Even then as Nebula groaned Gamora knew she couldn’t let her die. They were sisters who seemed to hate each other, but sisters all the same. “Except, you needed me to.” She proffered a hand then and didn’t flinch when Nebula smacked it away. “Get up. Father wants us back on the ship.” She paused, dreading the next words. “He’s found an Infinity Stone.”

NEBULA (2014): Nebula was still seething as Gamora gloated above her, so it took a moment for her words to sink in. The look she gave her sister was one of surprise– this was a moment they had been waiting for, one that she thought might never come. But now it had. She followed Gamora back onto their father’s ship which was in orbit, and once they were situated Nebula’s curiosity got the best of her. “So father’s plan is finally in motion.. Where is the stone?”

GAMORA (2014): The ride on the Q-Ship back to Thanos’ behemoth of a craft was silent and tense but Gamora wouldn’t have expected any less. They didn’t have long until their father arrived and they had to be on the same page. “On a planet called Morag.” Gamora was walking around the holographic projection that hung in the air. “One Stone isn’t six, Nebula.” She was quick to correct her sister with a glare and hands planted firmly on her hips. Gamora had to revel in that fact. Even if Thanos had one there was still five chances that Gamora had to keep him from achieving his goal. One of those chances was hidden away so far only she knew where it was. Vormir: a god forsaken planet that was a hidden blessing. For now though, they had to focus on Morag and what was there.

NEBULA (2014): “It’s a start.” Nebula felt it was important to note that. She could tell that her sister felt strongly about all this– she was more hesitant, more impacted by the news than Nebula was. But now she could almost understand where her sister was coming from. “If he gets all six stones..” In the end, Nebula would always be more afraid of punishment than what their father would do to the rest of the galaxy. And her train of thought was interrupted as the Titan arrived onboard.

THANOS (2014): In a flash of bright light, Thanos was transported up to his ship. Once he arrived, he stepped out of the light and towards his daughters. They were waiting for him, just as he requested, and as he wiped his blade clean with a cloth he made his way over to them. “Ronan has located the Power Stone.” He informed them. “I’m dispatching you both to his ship, immediately.”

GAMORA (2014): As soon as it became apparent that Thanos was arriving both warriors quickly turned to face the blinding light. “He won’t like that.” Gamora tucked her arms behind her back, head bowing slightly in her fathers presence.

THANOS (2014): “His alternative is death.” It was a statement of pure fact, one that Thanos knew he wouldn’t have to say twice. As he walked he tossed the bloodied cloth aside. “Ronan’s obsession clouds his judgement.”

NEBULA (2014): As Thanos approached, Nebula held her head up high and straightened her back. She moved forward, placing herself in front of Gamora before bowing allegiance to him. “We will not fail you, father.”

THANOS (2014): “No, you won’t.” Thanos looked down at her, both proud of her dedication and annoyed at her over-eagerness to prove herself.

NEBULA (2014): “I swear I will make you proud.” Nebula stood up, looking her father right in the eyes before she stumbled backwards, holding her face as pain shot through her. The implants in her skull burned and crackled, setting off sparks. As she crumpled to the ground, she desperately tried to make it stop by hitting herself, but instead it brought forward a projection. 2023 Nebula would have recognized him as Rhodes, but this Nebula had no idea who this was. ’So what, we just wait around for this Quill guy to show up, and then he leads us to the Power Stone, is that it?’ And Nebula swore she heard her own voice answer the stranger, but she couldn’t be sure. She smacked her implants again and the projection disappeared, leaving her shaking and gasping for air. Luckily, the pain began to dissipate.

GAMORA (2014): She was being ridiculous. Gamora didn’t even bother to conceal her eye roll as she watched Nebula drop to a knee and suck up to their father. It wasn’t good enough. No matter what she did Thanos would never favor her. It was cruel but that was how it was. When Nebula pitched to the side in pain she was quick to drop down next to her and grip the partially metal skin to see if she was okay. Gamora had hurt Nebula but she still did not like to see her in pain. Watching the recording in confusion Gamora leaned closer when it shut off. “Who was that?” Her tone was urgent to hide the concern.

NEBULA (2014): “I don’t know–” Nebula’s voice was barely at a whisper, and it was shaking. “But my head is splitting. I don’t– I don’t know–” She was panicking now. There was no room for malfunctions, especially not now. She was afraid of being ripped apart for scrap metal.

GAMORA (2014): This was bad. This was very bad. She would beat Nebula in combat when required to stay alive and stop Thanos from experimenting on her any more than he already had. The silver etching over green skin was a sign that she hadn’t always pleased him despite her wins, but she didn’t wish to see Nebula in pain and she definitely didn’t wish to see her stripped and discarded by Thanos into basic spare parts. He was likely cruel enough to melt that metal down, create a weapon and force her sister to carry the remains. Gamora kept her fear tucked away just like always as she confidently stood to her feet and faced their Father. If Nebula were to make it, she would have to be brisk. Professional. Thanos needed to be assuaged. “Her synaptic drive must have have been damaged in battle.” Despite it looking like a change in posture, Gamora was deliberate as she sidestepped in front of Nebula to use her body as a wall against the looming form of their father.

THANOS (2014): Thanos didn’t even look to Gamora as he stepped forward. What was happening to Nebula was curious-- perhaps she would be scrapped by the end of the day if this problem persisted, but she was still of use to him at the moment. The stranger mentioned the Power Stone, which couldn’t have been a coincidence. And if he was to secure this stone, he needed every advantage he could get. When he reached his daughter Thanos lifted his blade and placed in underneath his chin. The cold metal was close enough to her throat to make her feel uncomfortable, and he noted how much she was shaking as he forced her to look up at him. She was still weak-- a scared child. But there was something insider her head that he needed. “Bring her to my ship.”

GAMORA (2014): All she could do was step to the side as Thanos approached, dark eyes darting back and forth from the blade that the Titan used to push Nebula’s head upwards to the frightened look on her sisters face. it would have been easy for Thanos to end it there but instead his words were daunting. Daunting but not final. There was a chance they could turn it around. Bending down, Gamora grabbed Nebula and roughly dragged her to her feet. The force was in place only in case the other daughter of Thanos resisted. The steps after that towards the pod were gentler. Gamora released her grip -- they had never really been ones to touch. If anything contact had been burned out of their memory by a cold and unrelenting father who saw his children as weapons. Gamora could vaguely remember her mothers hands but now Thanos’ haunted her dreams, tipping her chin up as he looked at her with something akin to a cruel pride. Still, she kept her arms tensed and ready in case Nebula should fall or stagger. To keep things composed was to have a better chance at ending this without Nebula disposed of. Once on this ship she watched as the Maw ( her least favorite of her siblings ) strung Nebula up in the air so she hung like a decoration.

EBONY MAW (2014): As always, it was an honor to serve. There was a prestige that had once existed among the Children of Thanos. The Maw remembered the days all too well. Korvus, Proxima, Cull and Himself had long thrived as the Black Order and the most trusted of Thanos’ offspring. The two girls that arrived with the Titan were ones Ebony Maw knew of but he was not impressed. The little Zehoberei, Gamora, he knew well. The Maw had walked the dirt poor ground of her planet while Thanos’ glorious purpose was achieved. He had observed her family die so she could ascend into another and she had never been grateful enough for the gift. Thanos favored her with a fervor that Ebony longed for himself and it was infuriating that one so young had gotten to grow up under the wise hand of Thanos. As for the other one, well... the luphomoid had always sought to serve Thanos but her eagerness outweighed her skill. Now she was on display like a common jest and Ebony emerged from the shadows silently towards the command center that housed the technology they needed to examine her. Many times over the years had he watched in this position, stripped bare so Thanos could do as he please. Many times had the Maw observed, helped and listened to her screams with no twinge of remorse or pity. His hands were both efficient and effective as she powered the device and hooked it up to the right frequency so that a cable fell slowly towards her head.

THANOS (2014): Thanos took long steps around Nebula as she hung suspended in the center of the room. The Maw was off to the side, readying everything they needed to extract the information from Nebula’s memory. He stopped, tipping his head to the side as he observed his daughter for a moment, and then reached up to pull down the cord above him and connect Nebula to the ship’s systems. Once he clicked it into place, he let it go but stayed close. “Run diagnostics. Show me her memory file.”

NEBULA (2014): Nebula felt helpless. She found herself in this position more and more often as time went on, it seemed. But it never got easier. She felt like a feral animal, caged and chained up to be gawked at. There were only three people in the room with her but it felt like a thousand. When Thanos connected her to the ship, she let out a soft gasp but stifled it down, knowing that any emotional response would be ridiculed later.

EBONY MAW (2014): “Sire,” his hands were still moving as he processed the information. “The file seems to be tangled. It appears to be a memory but not hers. There’s another consciousness sharing her network.” How intriguing that was. Perhaps she should be torn apart to see what was going on. He broke his pause, “Another Nebula.”

THANOS (2014): “Impossible.” Thanos gave Ebony Maw a puzzled glance, wondering if he could be mistaken.

EBONY MAW (2014): Oh, but it was apparently. “This duplicate carries a time stamp. From,” he hesitated, beady eyes squinting as he checked the information. “...Nine years in the future.”

THANOS (2014): Fascinating. Even with the doubt he still felt, there was something intriguing about what was happening. It couldn’t be ignored, even if it turned out to be something other than what they expected. “And so where is this other Nebula?”

EBONY MAW (2014): The information was easy to access. “In our solar system. On Morag.” It seemed so convenient considering the size of the galaxy. The Zehoberei looked away from Nebula and the Maw wondered if it was because of the same disgust he felt.

THANOS (2014): The pieces were starting to fall into place. This was definitely not just a coincidence. “Can you access her?”

EBONY MAW (2014): “Yes.” He could do most anything Thanos asked. “It’s linked.”

THANOS: “Search the duplicate’s memories for Infinity Stones.”

EBONY MAW (2014): Ringed fingers danced over the images until Nebula’s head jerked upright like a puppet on a string. Which, in many ways, she was. The holograph began to project one confusing image after another as strange Terran’s walked around in discussion of the Stones. Thanos’ Stones, nonetheless.

NEBULA (2014): As the Maw weaved his way through her mind, Nebula did her best to stay still, not blink. When he found what he was looking for, her optic drive kicked back on and another projection appeared in front of her. This time it wasn’t just one person, but a whole group, Nebula didn’t recognize any of them. They spoke of the very stones Thanos had been chasing down. They were searching for them too.

THANOS (2014): “Freeze image.” Thanos paused the memory, taking a step closer as he analyzed the faces he saw in the projection. There was something familiar about them.

GAMORA (2014): Moving almost under her sister that she could look up at what was bring displayed, Gamora’s face twisted in confusion. “Terran’s.” She knew of them but had never met any. Instead, she knew what Thanos had told her about the Chitauri battle and the failure of the Asgardian. Terran’s stayed on their own planet and so they were ignored.

THANOS (2014): ”Avengers.” Thanos spit out the words. “Unruly wretches. But--” He pointed to a spot on the projection. “What is this image in the reflection? Amplify it.”

GAMORA (2014): As the Maw flicked his wrist and did just so Gamora’s heart sunk into the pit of her stomach. These were Terran’s -- Avengers -- and there, reflected in the image, was Nebula’s exact likeness. “I don’t understand.” Her words were quiet. Eyes slowly moved from the one that was intangible to her actual sister who was hanging there. Gamora wanted to cut her down but she couldn’t. All she could do was try and make sense of what she was seeing. “Two Nebulas?”

THANOS (2014): “No. The same Nebula-- from two different times.” Thanos corrected her. He turned to Maw. “Set course for Morag, and scan the duplicate’s memories. I want to see everything.”

NEBULA (2014): The Maw pulled up another memory from 2023 Nebula’s files. It sent a shock through 2014 Nebula, and she was forced to watch again as an image of her father appeared in front of them. He was.. Different. Worn down, half of his face covered in what looked like scars. Nebula thought that it was impossible for their father to be beaten. It came as a shock to see him like this. He spoke of the stones, said that he had used them and then.. destroyed them? It chilled her to the bone.

THANOS (2014): Thanos, on the other hand was fascinated. He was staring straight at himself, and while he appeared weak he could tell that it was after a long deserved victory. It did not trouble him. It only made him more eager.

GAMORA (2014): With their path now being traced, the clips continued on playing in the air in a horrible sequence. Thanos was burned, badly injured and rasping for breath. He was being asked where the Stones were and his next words stilled the blood in her veins: gone. All she wanted was for them to be forever out of reach but this didn’t look like it had been a happy ending. Unable to look away, Gamora listened to the twisted version of already twisted father as he explained the Stones had been used to eliminate themselves. Her eyes dropped at the mention of his work always being done. She knew that all too well. His words were pretentious bit she wouldn’t be permitted to say so. Instead Gamora stood with her hands folded behind her back, blank face trained on his burned one. “What did you do to them?”

THANOS (2014): “Nothing. Not yet.” Thanos was calm, collected. More sure of himself than ever. “The Avengers aren’t trying to stop something from happening in our time. They’re trying to undo something I’ve already done in theirs.”

GAMORA (2014): “The Stones.” The words fell out in a whisper, breath catching and stopping them from being spoken at full volume.

THANOS (2014): Thanos turned to Gamora, a small smile on his face. There was a hint of admiration and softness across his expression, like he was glad his favorite daughter was here to share this moment with him. “I found them all.” He moved over and stood in front of her, his voice at almost a whisper as he glanced down at one daughter and ignored the other. “I won. Tipped the cosmic scales towards balance.” Then he reached out, gently brushed aside the magenta waves off of Gamora’s shoulder.

GAMORA (2014): She stood steadfast as he approached, not flinching despite the heavy tremors from his boots that reverberated from the ground and up her legs. Thanos was not affectionate. She had never seem him touch any other one of his children the way that he did her: gently. From the moment she had first laid eyes on him on that hateful day he had reached out to her. His thumb had dwarfed her entire hand but she had taken it and he had crouched beside her, shielding her eyes from the carnage with a gentle nudge back towards the gift he had given her. Back then Gamora had no idea how rare the Titan’s actions were, how different he was around her. Even though he had hurt her more than she could bear to remember there had always been a tenderness that rose bile in her throat. As his hand gently caressed the bottom of her face she was reminded all over again that the man who claimed to be her father was not so. Her father was dead, wiped out in a genocidal wave of violence with no real point. Unable to stop her skin from crawling she dropped to her knees, head bowed in what appeared to be reverence as she took a second to close her eyes and shake off the all too familiar wave of nausea that accompanied his toxic touch.

EBONY MAW (2014): “This is your future.” His voice was reverent. It was a well deserved win for their savior.

THANOS (2014): ”It’s my destiny.” He had always been sure of that. Then the memory began playing again, and it was Nebula’s voice that was heard. It was mere seconds before a blade came crashing down in view, and the Thanos from the old Nebula’s memory met his end. But he did not flinch, nor seem bothered by watching himself die.

NEBULA (2014): Nebula watched a foreign memory from her mind and what she hard made her sick. Her father was apologizing to her, admitting that after decades of mistreatment and torture that he had perhaps been too harsh on her. He couldn’t even say it for sure. In his final moments, there was no regret in his voice, only pity for the girl he took apart and spliced back together again. Watching him die left her feeling too much, and yet nothing at all.

GAMORA (2014): She remained postulant he spoke, but upon hearing Nebula refer to their father her head shot up with the disgust still evident on here face. The confusion overtook it as he seemed to almost compliment Nebula and then the unthinkable happened: Thanos was felled. His head was severed clean from his body in an act Gamora had only ever dreamed about as she jumped to her feet. It was what she wanted, but the confusion and conflicted feelings still thrummed through her. If Thanos had died and Nebula was there, Gamora wondered, where was she? Why had she not been there to help? If anyone wanted to kill Thanos it was her. Nebula had been so busy kissing his boots she never seemed to have any inkling to do so.

THANOS (2014): “And that--” Thanos looked proud, looking upon himself with a smirk on his face. “Is destiny fulfilled.”

EBONY MAW (2014): “Sire,” he could barely control the rage coursing through him. “Your daughter,” waving one hand in the air, a cord tightened around Nebula’s throat in a chokehold. “Is a traitor.” The last word was spat.

NEBULA (2014): Nebula was finally free of the forced memories, but as soon as any relief was felt there was cold metal being wrapped around her neck. The Maw tightened its grip, and she struggled to breathe as she felt the links dig into her skin. “No, no--” She shook her head frantically, trying desperately to convince her father that Maw was wrong. That wasn’t her, that couldn’t have been. Even though deep down, she knew the opposite was true. “That wasn’t me, I could never--- I would never betray you--” She watched as Thanos approached her, very calm and collected, and when he reached out the chain around her neck broke and fell away. Nebula took in a breath, thankful for a brief second that she had been saved, and then froze as her father cupped her face in his hand. He could easily end her right in this instant, but he didn’t. And she wondered why he kept giving her chance after chance, even as she failed him every time.

THANOS (2014): “I know.” Thanos replied, trying to get his hysterical daughter to shut her mouth. “And you will have your chance to prove it.”

NEBULA (2023): Nebula had been ready to leave with Rhodes. They the stone, they had a moment, and she was ready to go back. There was almost a smile on her face as she readied the GPS on her wrist, but before she could hit the switch her skull felt like it was about to split. The implants near her eyes sparked under the pressure, and she collapsed to the ground, holding her face in both hands as the pain spread. She was helpless, unable to move as someone or something forcefully pushed their way into her memory files. She tried to fight it. She did. But her efforts were wasted. And she caught glimpses of faces-- her father, Ebony Maw, Gamora. And she was able to piece together what had happened: somehow, her past self had become linked. Thanos had been able to see the future through her eyes. And-- he knew she was here. Once Maw deactivated the link, Nebula gasped for air and realized the severity of the situation. She pushed herself up and ran back to the pod as fast as her legs would carry her. Rhodey was gone, but Clint and Natasha could still be out there. But every attempt to contact them failed, and before she had a chance to run, Thanos’ ship arrived and beamed her aboard. This was it. She was done for, and so was the plan to save the universe. Nebula huddled in the corner of the pod, waiting for someone to open the hatch. She could have fought back. She wanted to fight back, but seeing her younger self made her freeze, and 2014 Nebula easily pulled her out and threw her down to the ground. ”You’re weak.” She said. And Nebula replied back: ”I’m you.” Her response prompted a punch, and as her skull met with the metal of the floor 2023 Nebula let herself lay there, even as her former self pulled the time GPS off her wrist.

NEBULA (2014): Nebula was reveling in her victory. She stood up as Gamora entered, dangling her prize in her sister’s face before passing her to take her place.

NEBULA (2023): “You could stop this.” 2023 Nebula looked up to Gamora, eyes brimming with tears. She thought she would never see her sister again. It was surreal, but she was also desperate and needed to lean on Gamora’s unspoken feelings. Nebula knew her sister wouldn’t go along with their father’s plan. “You know you want to. Did you see what happens in the future? Thanos finds the Soul Stone. You want to know how he does that? What he does to you?”

GAMORA (2014): Judging by the sound alone, Nebula was taking her aggression out on herself. Gamora heard the kicking and the grunts, the sound of boot meeting body and she entered the room assessing the situation. Nebula was holding something triumphantly but it wasn’t apparent what it was. As her sister passed her, dark eyes flickered over to watch how close they came to brushing shoulders. It was with her head held high that Gamora tried to look at the version of her sister on the ground, but something was off in her posture. She couldn’t stand as straight and guarded as she needed to. Thanos finds the Soul Stone. If he did that, it meant... Those words caused a cataclysmic shift in Gamora. She blinked rapidly, lashes fluttering before her eyes fell to the ground. What he does to you? That was why she wasn’t there when he died. It had to be. Had her father killed her when he learned she lied? The map to Vormir remained nestled in Gamora’s mind. She knew enough to keep Thanos from getting on the right trail, but not enough about how to keep it safe from his greedy reach. In the future -- in as little as nine years -- she would be dead and Thanos would have the Stones. Even if he met his end too it wasn’t good enough. It meant that Gamora had failed somewhere along the lines and slipped up. It was enough to make her hands shake, but she was a warrior and an assassin. She wasn’t supposed to be short of breath or trembling from words alone. What he does to you? Whatever it was, it couldn’t have been pretty if this new and different Nebula sounded emotional about it. Her sister was far from stoic but the tone in her voice was new. For almost the first time since Thanos had decimated her planet, Gamora was truly s c a r e d.

NEBULA (2014): “That’s enough!” Nebula took a quick glance to Gamora before lashing out and promptly kicking her older self back down to the ground. Gamora was starting to look uncomfortable, almost.. scared. She didn’t think that he sister could feel fear. But the expression on her face was enough to make Nebula make sure this older version of herself shut up. She unsheathed a blade from her belt and it hummed with energy as she crouched down to her other self, waving the knife in her face as a threat. ”You disgust me.” She even went as far as throwing a hand to her neck, just enough pressure to make it obvious who had the advantage. “But-- that doesn’t mean you’re useless.” The one distinction between the two of them was the orange plate on her older self’s skull. It was bright and obvious, a strange choice. It made her stand out. But it could be taken, and it could be used. So Nebula took her blade and wedged it underneath the plate, removing it easily. She then removed her own replaced it, then took everything else she could find out of the pockets of her other self. This was sure to make her father proud.

NEBULA (2023): Nebula was broken. She didn’t say anything as her younger self walked out, head held high as she passed Gamora to go talk to Thanos. Their father wasn’t disappointed for once, and after a talk about their next move, 2014 Nebula was sent back in place of her other self. With the changes made to her appearance (the orange plate and a pair of gloves to cover up her flesh hand), it would be easy enough to blend in. She left the ship and went to 2023, leaving the rest of them behind to ready themselves for the fight ahead.

[ Our heroes are sucked through time, returning to one another at the New Avenger’s Facilities in the year 2023 ]

CLINT: Clint Barton was no stranger to pain. His years training as an expert bowman to be used as a weapon, to be mind controlled and pitted against his friends and teammates, to countless beatings because sometimes a bow just wasn’t enough. Clint Barton had thought pain was merely physical, maybe a touch mental, but mostly he could bandage up, pop a few aspirin, and be back in the game the next day. He’d never felt pain before, though, not until he watched his family get swept up like a cloud in the wind, reduced to ashes and given back to the Earth. Not until Natasha’s hand slipped out of his own and he couldn’t pull his gaze away quick enough before he saw her collide with the rocks below. She was gone. His family was gone. Clint Barton was gone. The return to the present was too much for him and he collapsed to his knees, the hard surface biting into him, but he didn’t feel it.

BRUCE: This trip was the epitome of an out of body experience for him and one that filled him with more confidence than anything else on this mission had before. “Did we get them all?” he asked to the group, but it was at that moment when he saw Clint fall to his knees. He took a step forward. “You okay, Clint?” He glanced around for Natasha but couldn’t see her. Did she enter in her calculations wrong? Tone and face full of concerned he asked Clint a question he wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer to. “Clint, where’s Nat?”

CLINT: All he could do was meet Bruce’s gaze, and then Steve’s. The horror that radiated from Steve’s face was almost palpable, and Clint understood the feeling all too much. It was his fault she wasn’t here. It was his fault he couldn’t save her. He hung his head low, the guilt radiating over him.

BRUCE: Clint’s face said it all. Bruce’s jaw dropped as his knees buckled. He couldn’t believe it. Before he knew it he found himself dropping to his knees not far from Clint. In a moment of Hulk like anger he slammed his fist into the platform denting it and causing the entire lab to tremble.

TONY: As soon as they arrived back through the portal, Tony felt like he could breathe again. There had been a snag in the plan but they fixed it. Sure, he saw his dad and things got weird. It got emotional, it got a little screwed up, but the mission was done. Steve got what they needed and the briefcase at his side had the stone that they lost. But it only took a few seconds to see the empty space next to Clint. Tony had been looking forward to that smile of hers when they got back, the one she had on just before they left. It had only been seconds since then in real time. Mere seconds, and now Natasha was gone. And suddenly their victory didn’t feel like much of one at all.

#event: endgame #endgame: 2.2 #chatlog: destiny is fulfilled #momevents

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sarafinamagazine · 7 years

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Robyn Scott and Roxane Hayward have joined forces to star in The Fugard Theatre‘s star-studded production of Shakespeare in Love. Not only are Robyn and Roxane tackling roles that awarded their film counterparts Academy Awards, Shakespeare in Love marks a return to the stage for both women. We sat down in the audience of The Fugard Theatre to chat about the show, the journey back to theatre and the current climate for female actors in South Africa.

Who or what inspired you to pursue a career in the arts?

Roxane Hayward: Acting has always been my first love, it’s always been what I’ve wanted to do since before I could speak. I think, for me, the inspiring thing is that I had a dream and I decided that I would do everything in my power to make that dream come true. That, in and of itself, is inspiration to keep going and motivation to go, “Don’t give up on that little girl’s dream.”

Robyn Scott: I literally came out of the womb knowing that this is what I was going to do. I was incredibly fortunate to have parents who saw that I had some talent and then they nurtured that talent. I consider myself very blessed because I know why I am on this planet and that is to tell stories. It’s a wonderful thing to know every day that this is why I am meant to be here, to tell stories, to make people feel moved and forget that they have tax returns or that they’ve had a fight with their husband.

L-R: Roxane Hayward & Robyn Scott. Photo credit: Chris de Beer

What was it about this production that made you want to be involved?

Roxane Hayward: I’m an absolute fan of the film Shakespeare in Love. It came out when I was quite young. It’s one of those films that I watched over and over again. Three years ago, I was in London when the original West End production took place. I loved it. I thought that the role of Viola was amazing and the fact that it is now onstage and there is an opportunity to maybe one day in the future perform in the play, was just a really great thought. Three years later and here we are.

Robyn Scott: It’s fate, baby. It was meant to be.

Roxane Hayward: As soon as I heard it was coming to South Africa and that there were auditions, I thought to myself, “I haven’t done theatre in 10 years but if I ever was to get back onstage and do it, this is the moment. This is the role. This is the production. This is the director. This is the theatre.” It just ticked absolutely every single box.

Robyn Scott: I’m a romantic by heart. I absolutely just adored the movie. I am a huge Queen Elizabeth fan and I’m a massive Judi Dench fan. I loved her in that. I haven’t been onstage in over four years since London Road. To get my tootsies back on the boards again, to play Elizabeth at The Fugard Theatre under Greg Karvellas‘ direction…I had never worked with Greg before and I have been wanting to work with him for a really long time. All the stars aligned and here we are.

Photo credit: Chris de Beer

You both mentioned that this is your return to the stage. What has the process been like of coming back to the theatre?

Robyn Scott: I’m a nervous Nellie by nature so it’s all pretty terrifying. I’ll be nervous until we close the show but that is who I am as an actor. The journey for Shakespeare in Love has been absolutely wonderful. The cast is just a crazy bunch of mad loons who are just incredibly generous and kind and I haven’t laughed in a process like this, ever before. All we’ve done is laugh and I’m talking about wee-laughter. All we’ve done is laugh and work hard. It’s been an absolute joy.

Roxane Hayward: It was really interesting to transition from film, which I’ve been fortunate enough to work in since the age of 10/12, to theatre. I trained in Theatre. I love Shakespeare. I’ve always wanted to do a play at Maynardville or a full Shakespearean play. The requirement for the first round of auditions for Shakespeare in Love was a Shakespearean monologue. I was like, “It’s been a while but let’s see if I can pull it off.” It’s amazing how it all just kind of comes back to you. It was really just a thing of going, “Ok. They are two separate mediums, let’s get my head space into the theatre medium and give it a go.” On the first day of rehearsals, I felt like a fish out of water. We’ve got some of the most reputable, established, critically acclaimed actors in the country, Robyn being one of them, who have really made a name for themselves in the theatre world in South Africa and internationally. I was really quite intimidated to be honest because here is this film actress on theatre turf. The nerves very quickly turned into excitement and a few days into rehearsals I had my first dialect session with Robyn [who] was also the dialect coach on Shakespeare in Love. That day was an anchor point just having those moments with Robyn and thinking, I’ve got this and I’ve got this lovely lady with me who will be with me along the ride.

Robyn Scott: Because you need to feel safe. That is the difference between those mediums and that is why my greatest love is theatre because it’s alive. No night is the same. There is an element of danger to it. You don’t know what is going to happen. You need that safety and that nurturing.

Roxane Hayward: And that camaraderie and team spirit. There are 21 actors in this and numerous people behind the scenes. It’s a well-oiled machine and we all have one goal and that is to make an amazing production and do something successful to tell the story. It’s been really incredible to be a part of that. Every actor is just phenomenal. It’s been a real honour working with them.

Robyn Scott: It’s a shit show backstage. It’s actually easier to be onstage than it is backstage. The costumes are extraordinary. They come from the RSC. Rox and I both have quick changes that in the beginning you think, “We are never going to be able to do this. This is absolutely impossible.” There are amazing dressers and an amazing crew backstage but the generosity of everybody is that we all muck in. It’s actors opening these sliding doors. There are some crew but it’s actors doing those. We are all helping each other dress and undress. It’s a beast back there. It’s a well-oiled beast now. I think we’ve got it but it’s still dodgy. It’s that generosity of a company of people who come together to tell a story [that] is incredibly special. I think that helps so much for us coming back to the theatre again when you are working with these people who are just so insane and amazing.

Photo credit: Daniel Rutland Manners

I was already dying to ask you about the quick changes backstage because I feel like it must be more of a show backstage than onstage.

Roxane Hayward: Offstage is a full-on cardio workout. I do Muay Thai and I normally go every single day. I haven’t been for three weeks because I’ve just gone, “I actually don’t need to because I am doing all of my cardio running up and down the stairs backstage and changing.”

Robyn Scott: The costumes are beautiful. They are exquisite and we are honoured to wear them but my gold dress that I wear is 7kgs! That’s the one I have to walk in and then do the jig and they keep adding stuff to it! Like, “More pearls! Let’s give her more pearls!” You’ve got to make those costumes work and they do.

Roxane Hayward: The one thing for me, working with Robyn, was just learning how to breathe again. If you don’t breathe, the people even sitting in the fifth row aren’t going to hear you.

Robyn Scott: You’ve got to hit the back row.

Roxane Hayward: I’m working on all these exercises that Robyn gave me and then we put the costumes on and it’s a corset! It was like Keira Knightley in Pirates of the Caribbean where she goes, “Try wearing a corset!” That was literally me. I had my Pirates of the Caribbean moment because I couldn’t breathe.

Robyn Scott: And I was like, “No my Roxi, the corset is there to support you.” That is why opera singers love a corset because it supports everything. The tighter, the better.

Roxane Hayward: I still haven’t wrapped my head around that one.

Photo credit: Chris de Beer

Robyn, you are no stranger to Queen Elizabeth I. What is it about this character that keeps drawing you back to her?

Robyn Scott: When I was about 13, my brother was living in London and my mom and I went to visit him. I had never been to London before. We went to The Tower of London where Anne Boleyn, Elizabeth’s mother, was beheaded. I can remember walking in and looking around and having an overwhelming sense of, “I’ve been here before. I know this place.” It was absolutely overpowering and overwhelming. I became absolutely obsessed with Henry VIII, his wives but particularly with Anne Boleyn. I studied at UCT and in my final year, you have to do an audition program and all the people come and watch. I had chosen to do a piece out of a Dario Fo‘s Elizabeth: Almost By Chance a Woman. At the time, Marthinus Basson was the Artistic Director at Artscape and he came to watch the audition programs. I ended my program with playing this mad Queen Elizabeth as a 60-year-old woman. Two days later, I got called in by Christopher Weare, who headed up Drama and I thought, “I’m in trouble.” Chris said to me, “From what Marthinus has seen, they are going to put it on at The Arena.” I was 22 about to play a 60-year-old queen and it was my debut professional performance. 10 years later, Chris and I did it again and now this, although this is a very different Elizabeth. The first one was very large whereas this one is Stoppard. Stylistically it has to be a bit more real and [it’s] also difficult because Judi Dench played it and everyone knows the part because she won the Oscar for, I think it was the shortest time on screen in a movie.

Roxane Hayward: It was seven minutes or something total screen time.

Robyn Scott: There is also all of that. It’s like what I said to Rox, it is just fate. I still have a love for her. I still have rituals with her. Every night before we go onstage, I stand onstage and I take my moment and I look around the theatre and I honour her and I thank her.

Photo credit: Chris de Beer

I wanted to reference one of the lines your character says, “I know something of being a woman in a man’s world.”

Robyn Scott: “Yes by god I do know about that!”

Let’s chat about that because it’s a large cast that is predominantly male….

Robyn Scott: Is this coming off the back of Harvey Weinstein?

I think it’s always coming off of the back of something.

Robyn Scott: It’s so funny because it changes but when I said that line last night, I thought that as I said that line.

Roxane Hayward: I heard the reaction of the audience with that. It’s so prevalent at the moment. I think it’s always been prevalent but I think now it has been brought to light.

Robyn Scott: It doesn’t matter LA, Cape Town, Jozi.

Roxane Hayward: It doesn’t matter [what] industry either. It does happen everywhere. I think it really is a great line in the play. It comes at the end of the play and when you say it, it sums up the role of the character of Viola. The whole play is about her trying to be a part of this theatre world, this world of poetry which was run by men and was a man’s world. She desperately wants to be a part of it. She gets a taste of kind of knowing what it is like to be a woman in a man’s world.

Robyn Scott: What she [did], in those days, was dangerous. She would have been put in the tower and it’s because of that cheeky wink with Elizabeth because Elizabeth knows about being a woman in a man’s world. The funny thing is that her reign was glorious. It’s like you kind of want to go, “Well girls really should be running the world anyway.” That’s a whole other thing and it’s also that Harvey Weinstein thing and it was so weird because that popped into my head last night as I said it.

Roxane Hayward: It hasn’t before?

Robyn Scott: No. I have had nights ago where I did think, “I’ve been bullied by male directors and it’s so nice to dig it in.” It feels powerful and fab saying it. I love it.

Photo credit: Chris de Beer

Going off of that, in your position as actresses in South Africa, how do you feel about the current state of the industry? Do you feel as though there are enough roles for women?

Roxane Hayward: I think it’s definitely on the rise. There are a lot more productions coming to South Africa. The quality of productions coming to South Africa is fantastic. The South African productions that are being done locally and being born from within our country is amazing and it is all on the rise which is great. There are some really great roles for women.

Robyn Scott: The film stuff is amazing.

Roxane Hayward: But, saying that, I do have a lot of friends in the industry who are male and 90% of the time, my male actor friends are a lot busier and getting seen for roles and working because there are so many.

Robyn Scott: Without a doubt. Across the board.

Roxane Hayward: Now talking feature films and TV work, predominantly a lot of the roles are male roles. There is more work for men in the industry but it’s on the rise. I think the more we talk about it and the more we voice our opinion, the more roles will be created for women to get involved in.

Robyn Scott: There are amazing movies and TV series coming and that is fantastic and please God may it please continue. The theatre scene in Cape Town also has exploded. Should there be more roles for women? Yes. Should there be more female directors? Yes. Should female actresses be getting more money than male actors? Yes and yes again.

Roxane Hayward: I worked with an amazing female director the other day on a short film. She was so great and it was such a refreshing experience for me because I actually hadn’t ever worked with a female director before. And it was really fabulous. I also have a few friends who are scriptwriters who are female and the work that they produce is also lovely and because they are writing from a female’s point of view with a female voice, the female characters are slightly more predominant in their work. We are getting there.

Robyn Scott: Should there be more roles for female actresses in Cape Town? Fuck yeah. I haven’t worked in four years. It’s not because I chose not to work for four years, I haven’t been employed. No one has employed me and then people last night are like, “You are amazing! Where have you been?” And it’s like, thank you God for people like Greg Karvellas and The Fugard Theatre and thank you god for Eric Abraham to go, “Let’s do a show and let’s have 21 actors.” That’s another amazing thing. You just don’t get that.

Roxane Hayward: The other interesting thing that I would like to add to this question, the rise of social media has really influenced a lot of casting. I think it is kind of trickling into the theatre industry as well but definitely for the international film and TV productions. A lot of the time, you have to harness a bit of a social media following which takes up so much time and we see so many young actresses wanting to get into the industry dedicating their time and their energy on their social media accounts, which is very important to get out of non-existence and have a bit of an outflow but we must never forget that using our time and our energy to hone our actual skills and our craft and our knowledge is the thing that will create longevity in your career. At the end of the day it always boils down to talent. I think we will soon be reminded of that within the industry.

Photo credit: Daniel Rutland Manners

What has playing these characters taught you?

Robyn Scott: I have learned how to take a character that I know in my bones and delicately change her and find humor and how to go about doing that. That was the job for me. How do I play her again but completely differently that will serve the style of Tom Stoppard and tell this style in this play for this story? I think, as an actor, that is what it was about for me. It was how to go about doing that and keeping everyone happy who does love the movie and who loves Judi Dench and all of that because I am not Judi Dench. I am Robyn Scott. That was the task for me and I hope that I have made her my own.

Roxane Hayward: If I have to sum it all up, this role has taught me to be brave in so many aspects of the term. Viola, herself, is a brave young woman but coming back into theatre and working with such an incredible team, I’ve really had to be brave. The words that Greg has said to me throughout the rehearsal process have been, “Rox, be brave. Just do it and give me more. I can always reign you in but just be brave.” They are words that I go to bed at night thinking, “Ok. It makes sense to me. Be brave.”

Robyn Scott: And you are being brave, babe.

Who are some South African woman in the arts that inspire you?

Robyn Scott: Sylvaine Strike, Karin van der Laag, Lucinda Hooley [and] Jaci Smith were the women and actresses that I got to look up to when I was in my 1st year at UCT Drama School. I always said, if I can be a combination of all of those women, watch out world. I’m “mummy” to a lot of actors. I take on that role but they are my mummies. When I’m with them, I get to be the baby and I love it. I just hope that they are proud of me. I must also say Antoinette Kellerman is like, I actually get nervous when she walks into a room. I get quite starstruck and I can’t talk. That voice! She is like stratospheric.

Roxane Hayward: Taryn Sudding! I used to watch Kideo growing up and I loved her. I wanted to be her. I thought she was the most fabulous thing I’d ever seen. She was my Kideo woman and that was it and then I saw her in The Wizard of Oz and a few other productions that she had been in over the years. I kept all the programs of all the shows she was in. I kept everything. I was going through things for a visa application and I came across The Wizard of Oz program with Taryn Sudding. She crossed my mind and then I thought, “Come Roxane, you have a flight to catch. Put it away.” I got on the plane and Taryn Sudding was sitting next to me! I went, “I’m so sorry, this is going to make me sound like a psycho but I have to introduce myself. You’ve been such an inspiration to me!”

Robyn Scott: Was she amazing?

Roxane Hayward: Yes! She’s such a beautiful soul and she just exudes this light. I also love Anthea Thompson. I’ve seen her in a few things and trained with her briefly. It was a great experience and in that short space of time, she really did give me a few pointers that I’ve kept with me. Sabrina Chinneli-Smith and Bronwyn Gottwald were my drama teachers when I was little. They helped me create the foundation blocks for me as an actress and gave me that confidence and that drive from a really young age. They are lessons that I will never forget. And last but not least, the lovely Robyn Scott. I can’t not mention her and I’m not just saying this because we are sitting next to each other right now. It’s been eight weeks now that we’ve known each other but I’ve learned so much. It’s really been special having you by my side through this journey.

Robyn Scott: But not just this journey.

Roxane Hayward: And more to come!

Shakespeare in Love is now playing at The Fugard Theatre until November 25th. For tickets, click here.

You can follow Roxane on Facebook, Twitter or Instagram.

You can follow Robyn via her official webstie.

Special thanks to Christine Skinner, Hannah Baker and Chris de Beer.

All black and white images were taken by Chris de Beer at The Fugard Theatre on October 19th 2017.

Sarafina Magazine and Chris de Beer maintain copyrights over all images. For usage or inquires, please contact us.

We chat with @Roxane Hayward and Robyn Scott about starring in #ShakespeareinLove @TheFugard Robyn Scott and Roxane Hayward have joined forces to star in The Fugard Theatre's star-studded production of…

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