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vintagepresley · 1 year

Text

Pretty Baby

Chapter Three: Is It So Strange?

Pairing: Elvis Presley x OC Reader

Word Count: 10, 753 words

Warnings: 18+ Honestly there isn't anything too crazy. Tons of flirting, cursing, smoking, tons of fluff and cuteness, tiny bit angst towards the end and hint of smut. Typical Elvis stuff.

Author's Notes: Hi besties! So, I want to start off by saying this was way longer than intended that I actually didn't get to the very angsty parts I wanted to. So, I'll be adding that to the next chapter which will be drama filled and angsty. If you think that by the end of this chapter that these two will be together.. Well, I'm sorry to break the news.. Not quite yet. But I hope you enjoy this chapter of Elvis being super cute and tons of flirting and will they/won't they situations. I'm sorry once again for the slowburn of this story. But trust me when I say, the smut WILL be worth the wait! As always possible spelling errors! (Since they're in Vegas figured I'd change the cover art for this.)

Pretty Baby series

“Holy shit!” Rebecca thought to herself as she walked onto the Lisa Marie. She had never seen an airplane like this before. There was no doubt in her mind that his plane belonged to Elvis Presley. It seemed so surreal that someone was flying in such a style, but it didn’t surprise her at all with the way he dressed. Elvis and the guys couldn’t help but laugh amongst themselves as they saw the look of shock and awe on Rebecca’s face as she slowly walked into the main cabin. Elvis followed behind her with a smile and placed a hand against her lower back and she turned to face him with the same shocked expression which made that hiccuping laugh escape Elvis.

“You wanna little tour?” he asked.

She smiled at him and nodded. “Please?” she hummed. Elvis gave her a small nod and now slipped his arm around her waist and began to lead the way for the tour of his plane, starting with taking her to the cockpit to meet the pilot. Rebecca couldn’t help but notice that no matter who worked for him or who he met he was always so personable with everyone and they all seemed to really love him. She admired that and only furthered her comfort around him. After speaking with the pilot Elvis continued on with the tour, showing her the dining room and lounge area. She couldn’t believe that his airplane was basically a mini house and all she could think about is what Graceland looked like. Once he showed her the bathrooms she went right over to the gold sink and she looked at him as she touched it.

“Is this real gold?!” she asked.

Elvis laughed and nodded. “Sure is, honey.” he beamed.

She laughed and stood back by his side and shook her head because only he would have a gold sink. Elvis grabbed her hand excitedly and led her toward the last part of the tour; his private bedroom. She looked around the room and then up at him.

“Only you would have a bedroom on a plane.” she giggled, rolling her eyes.

“My home away from home.” he uttered softly.

She smiled at him and went over to the bed and plopped down onto it and bounced up and down slowly curious as to how comfortable it was. Elvis just smiled at her. He loved seeing how impressed people were with his things. “Comfortable enough for ya, honey?” Elvis teased.

“It feels pretty comfortable.” she responded.

“Good.. It’s yours to sleep in since it’ll be a few hours until we’re in Vegas.” Elvis smiled.

“Thank you.” she said softly as she looked around the room spotting some records and she stood up and walked over to them and began to sift through them. Elvis walked up beside her.

“Anything in there you listen to?” he asked curiously

She shrugged and shot him a small grin. “I may see a few things.” she hummed before taking her attention off the records and deciding to head back out with the rest of the guys, but Elvis grabbed her hand before she could go anywhere.

“Wait a minute, baby… Where ya goin’?” he furrowed his brow.

“I don’t want your friends getting the wrong idea if we’re in here too long together, Elvis.” she replied, rolling her eyes at him calling her baby now.

“Don’t worry ‘bout them. We’ll keep the door open if that’ll make you feel better?” Elvis suggested.

Rebecca exhaled softly and nodded at his words. “Okay, fine.” she mumbled.

He smiled. “Good. I want you to listen to a song I recently recorded. I want your opinion on it.” he said as he searched through the small crate of records, finding the 45 he was looking for and putting it on the turntable. Rebecca raised an eyebrow as she sat back down on the bed, wondering what the song could be that he wanted her opinion on. He carefully placed the needle onto the groove of the record and the small hum and crackles of the record began to play before the soft sounds of Elvis’ voice rang through the speakers as he sang ‘It’s Midnight’.

Now Rebecca had heard his music in passing from her parents and other people of his generation, but she never actually sat and listened to his voice because she never cared enough. People her age didn't really listen to his music. She didn’t dig it. She always heard his mainstream songs and they just never spoke to her. Even as they’ve gotten to know each other she still hadn’t really listened to him. So when she heard him singing this song she perked up a bit and it was as if she was hearing him for the very first time, truly hearing him. The bravado of his voice, the small cracks of it, the emotion he had put into the song and it struck a nerve with her. Elvis stood watching each expression of her face, she was always hard to read but he could tell that she was completely lost within the song. He knew if anyone was going to be completely honest with him, it was her. As it came to an end the two of them sat in the silence that fell before them for a moment the chattering sounds of the guys talking muffled in the background as Rebecca and Elvis stared at one another.

“Well? What did ya think? And be honest.” Elvis said.

“Hmm… Can you play it one more time for me?” she muttered with a smile.

Elvis nodded and flashed her a smile back as he restarted the record and now Rebecca got comfortable and slipped off shoes and climbed further onto the bed, sitting up against the headboard. She needed to hear it again to really take it all in. Elvis followed her lead and since the door was open he knew she needn’t worry as he climbed into bed and sat beside her as they listened to the song once more together. She glanced over at him and didn’t say a word, she trusted him and knew there wouldn’t be any funny business, so she got a bit more comfortable sitting beside him as she focused on the song even more, closing her eyes as she listened to the lyrics closely.

Funny how things have a way of

looking so much brighter in the daylight

I ought to go to bed

To try and straighten out my head

And just forget you

Oh, but it’s midnight..

And I miss you.

Rebecca opened her eyes and glanced up at Elvis with a curious look upon her face. “Did you write this? Who is this about?” she asked softly. Elvis chuckled softly as he scratched his face gently, shaking his head.

“I didn’t write it.. No. It’s not about anyone or anything to do with me personally.” he answered.

She nodded slowly. “There’s just… There’s so much emotion in your voice when you sing it, that it sounds as if you’re singing it to someone in particular. It’s beautiful. It’s sad, but beautiful. I-I didn’t know you could sing like that. I love it, I really do. I’m impressed.” she hummed with a grin which made Elvis chuckle.

“Well, I do think that is the first time I’ve impressed you and the first time you’ve given me a compliment.” he laughed. Rebecca rolled her eyes and nudged him with her elbow.

“Don’t get used to it. Wouldn’t want you getting a big head now.” she teased.

“It’s too late for that, baby. So.. You really meant what ya said? You love it?” he smiled.

“Mhm.. I meant every word, Elvis. It’s a beautiful song and you’ve got a beautiful voice.” she hummed. That brought a wider smile to his face.

“Thank you.” he mumbled as the song once again came to an end and Rebecca quickly got up to play it for a third time and climbed back into the bed to sit beside him and two of them sat in silence just listening to the song together. It was pretty late on the east coast and Rebecca didn’t realize just how tired she was and as the plane was finally taking off she began to feel the heaviness in her eyes and her head slowly tilting to the side and resting onto Elvis’ shoulder as she began to doze off to the sound of his voice. Elvis looked down at her and smiled to himself as he watched her nuzzle into his shoulder and her eyes fluttering shut and a few strands of her hair falling in front of her face. Elvis carefully slipped an arm around her and he held her carefully and with his other hand he reached up to brush the small strands of hair out of her face and tucking it behind her ear. The soft crackle and hum of the needle hitting against the record played over and over once the song had ended and Elvis just watched Rebecca sleep, studying her face as he did whenever he would catch himself staring at her. Her soft features became even softer as she slept that he couldn’t help but graze the pad of his thumb against her rosy, supple cheek which caused her to move a bit and nuzzle even more into him and slip her small arms around his arm. Elvis beamed happily.

“You are by far the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on..” he whispered under his breath as he began to hum an old song he sang way back when. One line of the song leaves his lips in a hushed tone as he continues to caress her cheek. “Is it so strange, to be in love with you?” He exhaled softly, the months that he had gotten to know her began to stir up feelings in him that he hadn’t felt for anyone in a long time. But he wasn’t sure how she felt about him. She was always so hard to read and when she constantly referred to him as a friend it only made things harder to read from her end. Does she really just think of me as a friend? Or is that just her way of hiding her true feelings? Either way, he knew what he felt and there was no way to get rid of it. He wanted her and he’d do anything to get what he wanted.

His gaze slowly fell to her lips that were the shade of the light pink lipstick she always wore that he loved. Thoughts of kissing her at the end of each of their dates always had crossed his mind, but he knew all too well that she’d slap the shit out of him if he tried. Which made him chuckle just at the thought of it. But now those pesky thoughts of his lips against her ran through his mind and he hesitantly leaned down toward her and got close enough that his lips hovered over hers that he could feel the warmth of her breath blowing against his lips and then he carefully, slowly pressed his lips against hers giving her the gentlest little kiss and he pulled back feeling content and his smile beaming because of how badly he had been wanting to do that. He tightened his hold around her waist as he tilted his head back against the bed frame and closed his eyes in hopes of maybe getting a few hours of rest himself.

Unbeknownst to Elvis, she was a light sleeper and his constant caressing of her cheek had woken her up a bit that she heard all the words he had whispered to her and felt the kiss he left on her lips. She opened her eyes and slowly tilted her head up to look at him. She had a puzzled look on her face, trying to process what she had heard and what she had felt from that little kiss. One of those feelings being that he had the softest lips she had ever felt. The other feeling was confusion or maybe confliction as she pondered those last words he mumbled. Love? He couldn’t possibly be in love with me.. We’ve only known each other for a few months.That’s insane.

She had never been this close to any man, one that wasn’t gay anyway. She had never trusted someone as much as she trusted him or opened up more than she had with him. She felt close to him. They were similar but different in so many ways. There was no denying there was some chemistry between them, but she didn’t want anything more than a friendship. Anything more scared her because she didn’t want to lose what they had as friends. He was someone she could confide in and have deep conversations with and she was someone he could share parts of himself that he never had before. Someone who didn’t sugarcoat things with him. Who always said what was exactly on her mind even when he didn’t ask for it.

Rebecca continued to stare at him with the same puzzled look on her face as her thoughts ran wild. But decided rather than dwelling on these feelings, these thoughts that she’d just try to get back to sleep. As much as she tried she just couldn’t silence her thoughts enough to sleep. By the time she finally had gotten herself back to sleep she was suddenly being woken up again by the sound of his voice and him lightly shaking her awake.

“Rebecca, honey, wake up.. We’re here, baby..” he whispered softly.

She tiredly opened her eyes to the sight of him staring at her and she rubbed her hand against her tired eyes, forgetting that she had mascara on. “W-What? Already??” she asked groggily. Elvis chuckled at her sleepy words.

“Yes.. C’mon..” Elvis hummed as he helped her out of the bed and she let out a soft groan as she swatted at him.

“I can get out of bed on my own.” she said in a sharp tone, wanting to make things seem normal and pretend as if she didn’t hear him profess his love.

Elvis smirked and held his hands up in defeat. “Okay, okay.. You freshen up and I’ll wait out in the main cabin.” he said with a smile before he headed out of the bedroom, shutting the door behind him. She took a deep breath as she was fully awake now, soothed out her dress and slipped her shoes on and headed into the small bathroom he had in the bedroom and seeing how smeared her mascara was she quickly washed her face and tried to wipe some of it away so that she at least looked decent for the drive to the hotel; until she could really freshen up. She quickly fixed her hair and headed out of the bedroom and toward the main cabin where she saw Elvis and the guys standing preparing to unboard from the plane, she walked up beside him letting out a soft yawn. Elvis smiled when he saw her and slipped an arm around her small waist. Rebecca folded her arms over her chest and tried to slip out of his grasp but he had a tight hold on her and now she began to tense up and her mind going back to what happened just a few hours ago. She felt that if she distanced herself from him maybe those feelings of his for her would go away. Elvis noticed how tense she suddenly was and he raised an eyebrow as he glanced over at her.

“Everything okay, honey?” he whispered to her.

She looked up at him and nodded slowly, putting on a smile. “Everything is great.” she hummed. He nodded and returned a smile and now he took her hand as they began to unboard the plane, some of the guys walking out first while the rest followed behind the two of them. Rebecca looked around and inhaled the fresh air of Vegas and felt the change of temperature that she certainly wasn’t used to and now she wasn’t really worried about what happened and more focused on the excitement she felt of being in Vegas. She couldn’t wait to see the famous Vegas strip and some of the casinos. Once they got down the stairs Elvis took her hand once again and the two of them walked toward the fancy Cadillac that waited for them as their bags were being loaded into the two other cars behind it that some of the guys were getting into while Joe and Jerry shared the Cadillac with the two of them. She rolled the window down as they began to drive off to the International so she could get a better view of everything and she happily stared out the window and Elvis chuckled to himself seeing her excitement which he thought was cute.

“You’ve really never been to Vegas?” he said softly.

“Nope. Never.” she responded as she stared up at all big flashing lights that beamed throughout the strip and lit up the night sky. “I thought New York was amazing.. But this is a whole other level.” she said with a soft laugh. Elvis shook his head with a smile.

“It sure is somethin’ when you see it for the first time. Some of the guys' wives and girlfriends will be here. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind takin’ you out on the town.” Elvis muttered. Rebecca turned to look at him and she smiled warmly.

“I’m guessing it’s not going to be easy for us to go anywhere here, huh?” she questioned.

Elvis gave her a small shrug. “That’s the price I pay being Elvis Presley. If I could I’d love to take you out ‘round town myself if it weren't for us possibly being mobbed.” he said softly.

Rebecca couldn’t help but feel a bit sad for him because he couldn’t go out or do anything like normal people do or have fun the way normal people do. He always had to either pay to get a place to himself or go after hours. She couldn’t understand how he could deal with that on a daily basis. She studied his face for a moment and she could see the sadness on it. She reached over and placed her hand over his and gave it a gentle pat. “Hey, it’s okay, I’m just excited to be here and actually see an Elvis Presley concert for the first time. I hear he’s a riot!” she teased trying to cheer him up and it did because a crooked little grin formed on his lips.

“I hear he does alright..” he smirked. As she went to move her hand away he grabbed it quickly and held it tight and the two of them looked at one another and shared a smile. He appreciated that it didn’t upset her that they couldn’t do normal things together as much as he wanted to. She turned her attention back toward the window and studying this whole new world that was Las Vegas as they approached the hotel they made sure to park in the back entrance as the two other cars followed behind and as they got all the luggage situated as Joe and Jerry got Elvis and Rebecca inside and onto the elevator. Rebecca couldn’t help but notice that pictures and flyers and merchandise of Elvis were everywhere. If you had any doubt who was in town the hotel would be sure to remind you. This was the first time she was experiencing the stardom that was Elvis and being in his element. As they got onto the floor of his suite Elvis led the way with Rebecca by his side keeping her close. She was so busy looking all around that she hadn’t even noticed him holding onto her hips. They stopped once they approached his suite door.

“So, where’s my room?” she asked as she raised an eyebrow.

“I figured you’d just stay in the suite with me, honey.” he said nonchalantly.

Rebecca scoffed and furrowed her brows as she pulled away from him and placed her hands on her hips. “Nice try.. Just because I fell asleep next to you on the plane doesn’t mean I’m sharing a bed with you, Elvis.” she said sternly.

Elvis chuckled and shook his head.

“Now who said anything about us sharing a bed, baby? There’s an extra room for you.” he said with a smirk.

Rebecca felt embarrassed now and could feel her face turning red because of her assumption, she quickly cleared her throat and crossed her arms over her chest as she watched the guys snicker. “Oh.. Well, I-uh.. That’s okay, I guess.” she mumbled, feeling so stupid.

Elvis laughed and opened the suite door and they all walked inside. “Holy shit, man..” Rebecca blurted out as she looked around the suite. She never saw anything like it. She thought the plane was fancy but it had nothing on his suite. Elvis grinned at her reaction and he grabbed her bags from Jerry.

“You guys can go. Lemme know when the Colonel gets in, will ya? I’ve gotta talk to that fat sonofabitch.” Elvis muttered. The guys nodded before they headed out and Rebecca raised an eyebrow wondering who this Colonel guy was that he was talking about.

“Who’s the Colonel?” she asked curiously.

“Just my business manager, baby. I wanted to introduce you to him, but he can be an ass.” he shrugged as he began to walk past the living room and toward the bedroom Rebecca would be staying in. She furrowed her brow at his answer and the way he spoke about him which gave her an idea that he probably wasn’t great but she just shrugged as she followed behind him. Elvis sat her bags down and turned on the light, smiling. Rebecca stepped inside the room smiling because it looked like it’s own little suite and had its own bathroom. She was still in awe and she turned around toward him.

“Where’s your room?” she asked.

“Right across there. So, if you’re still thinking about sharing a bed, I ain’t too far away.” he smirked.

Rebecca gave him her usual look when she wasn’t having his shit and she playfully slapped his arm. “Oh, you wish. Now get out because I want to shower and get some more sleep.” she said in the sassy tone of hers.

“Sleep? It’s only 9:30.” he replied.

“Some of us are still on New York time and it’s midnight there.” she snapped as she began to playfully try to push him out of her room causing him to laugh and he played along stumbling backwards out of the room and before he could get another word out she had shut the door in his face. He stood there shaking his head with a smirk and he could hear the faint sounds of the shower starting.

“Well, uh.. I guess I’ll see you in the morning then!” he shouted before heading toward his own room to get cleaned up and into his pajamas even though he had no plans of sleeping just yet. He ordered up some room service and got himself some food but also a plate for Rebecca just in case she got hungry, setting it on the little dining room table and leaving a little hand written note for her before he took his food into his room. He got settled into his bed and decided to read one of his books all the while thinking about the beautiful girl just in the other room. He was hoping they could spend some time together now that they were completely alone but of course she found a way to get out of that.

Rebecca was grateful to have a bit of peace away from Elvis even if it were just for a night. She had a lot on her mind, mostly him on her mind and what he had whispered to her when he thought she couldn’t hear him. She wouldn’t dare bring it up, but she had wondered if he would. After a long hot shower she felt so much better and slipped on a pair of panties and an oversized t-shirt and she flopped down into the bed letting out a satisfying sigh of relief because of how comfortable it felt. She laid there with her face planted into the pillows and she could hear her stomach growling at her, with all the excitement of this trip she hadn’t really eaten much else since they went to dinner hours ago. She climbed out of the bed and tip-toed over to the door, pressing her ear against the door trying to see if she could hear him but it sounded like he was in his room. She figured he probably had the fridge stocked with some sort of food. She carefully opened the door and quietly slipped out of the room and she saw a plate sitting on the table with a bottle of coke and she slowly made her way over, seeing a note addressed to her and she raised an eyebrow curiously as she picked it up to read it.

To My Honey,

In case you get hungry, I got our favorite meal…. And if you get lonely that offer still stands for us to share a bed.

– EP.

As she read the note she rolled her eyes because he knew how much she hated when he called her honey, but then she felt her face growing hot from how hard she was starting to blush, that even a small giggle escaped her from the last part of the note. He was never going to let her hear the end of that assumption she made about them sharing a bed. She sat down at the table and stared over at his bedroom door where she could hear the television now playing and then she looked back over the note, shaking her head and smiling as she took the lid off the plate of food to see it was their usual dinner they shared with one another, a simple cheeseburger and fries. She smiled even more as she began to eat her food, rereading the little note as she did. She hated how somehow through months of trial and error he’s able to make her feel like some stupid giggly girl. She was trying to shake the feeling of things that had been lingering within her for some time. They were feelings she had been suppressing because she valued their friendship more than anything and she was determined to keep it that way. He was like the straight version of Paul and that was how she was trying to keep seeing it. But she found herself staring at his bedroom again and when she finished eating she got up with the note in hand, folding it up and sticking it in between the waistband of her panties and walked over to his bedroom door, knocking lightly. “Elvis?” she said in a quiet tone.

When Elvis heard her light knock and her voice which made him smile widely and turned the volume of the television down. “Yeah? Everything okay?” he responded.

“Can I come in?” she asked.

“Course you can, honey.” he answered.

She grabbed a hold of the door knob and turned it slowly before stopping. “Wait.. Close your eyes first. I don’t have pants on.” she laughed and could hear him chuckling.

“Do I have to? I’ve already seen you naked.” he asked.

“Yes! Or I’ll go right back to my room.” she said sternly.

He exhaled dramatically and closed his eyes.

“Alright.. They’re closed!” he shouted. He could hear the doorknob turning and the door creaking open as she stepped inside and closed it behind her. Elvis, being cheeky, opened his right eye just to get a tiny peek at her and he smirked when he saw her in just a t-shirt and panties and the note he left her sticking out the waistband of her panties. She marveled at his bedroom as she climbed into his bed and quickly got beneath the blankets to cover herself. “Can I open my damn eyes now, woman?” he laughed.

“You can.” she hummed.

Elvis opened his eyes and looked over at her smiling.

“Well, well.. What happened to “We’re not sharing a bed, Elvis. Some of us are on New York time, Elvis.” he mocked.

She rolled her eyes at him.

“We aren’t sharing a bed because I’m not sleeping in here with you. But I don’t see anything wrong with us hanging out for a bit while I’m wide awake. But if you’re going to be an ass I will go right back to my room.” she said as she pretended to get up to leave. Elvis grabbed a hold of her to stop her.

“Well, just hold on now I don’t mind it one bit.. You are always welcome to hangout here with me.” he smiled.

“Good. But don’t get any ideas. Actually..” she hummed, grabbing one of his pillows and putting in between them as a barrier. “That’s better.” she beamed.

“Really?” he chuckled and raised an eyebrow at the pillow barrier between them.

“Mhm.. So, what are we watching?” she smiled.

“The Carol Burnett Show. You ever watched it?” he asked.

“I’ve seen a few episodes. She’s funny.” she said with a smile as she leaned back against the bed watching the television. A small silence fell between them as they both watched the screen. Elvis glanced over at her for a moment.

“Sooo.. You got my note?” he grinned.

“I did. Who knew you were such a poet.” she said sarcastically trying to make it seem as if that note didn’t have her blushing and giggling just moments ago.

“Do you always have to be a sarcastic little shit?” Elvis laughed.

“Yeah, because you love it..” she teased, grinning at him.

“Mm..” he hummed, shaking his head.

The two sat there in his bed with the pillow barrier in between them and watched television together until midnight and by this point Elvis had eventually fallen asleep. When Rebecca noticed he had gone to sleep she smiled and reached over for the remote, shutting the television off and climbing out of his bed and going over to him. She stared at him for a moment and she reached down to run her fingers along his handsome round face and she let out a soft exhale before leaning down to kiss his cheek and turning out the light before she made her way out, carefully shutting the door and heading to her room and getting into her bed, keeping the small lamp on. She grabbed a cigarette and lit it as she reached down to take the note out of the waistband of her panties and she unfolded it and read it a few more times. Once she finished smoking she laid down and continued to read it until she fell asleep with the piece of paper resting on her chest.

The Next Day - 12:00PM

Rebecca had woken up to the sounds of Elvis shouting angrily at the guys about something to do with this Colonel fellow. She yawned softly as she stretched her body out against the bed and placed the note that laid beside her now on the bedside table. She was curious as to what was going on that had him so upset but she chose to just stay out of it and then she heard his bedroom door slam and the front door of his suite close. She furrowed her brow and slowly climbed out of the bed letting out another yawn as she rubbed her hands over her eyes, and walked out of the bedroom tiredly, looking around the empty living room and hearing Elvis swearing angrily to himself in his room. She walked over to the door and knocked on it before opening the door and peeking her head inside to see him dressed in usual get up. “Elvis? Are you okay?” she asked in her sleepy voice.

When Elvis heard her voice something inside of him suddenly forced him to calm down and he took a deep breath before he turned to face her. “I-I’m good... Ah hell, I woke ya up, didn’t I? ‘M sorry, honey.” he mumbled.

She shook her head at his words. “Oh no, you didn’t.. It’s okay. Are you sure you're okay? Is everything okay with the show tonight?” she asked.

“Oh yeah, everything is fine. Just some business, that’s all.” he said with a small smile. But that was an obvious lie. Elvis had plans of introducing Rebecca to the Colonel because of his connections in Hollywood and he was still determined to fulfill her dream of being an actress. But the Colonel refused to help her or even just meet her just to see she’s got what it takes. He flat out told him no. That he only had time for Elvis Presley. Elvis was never one to argue with the Colonel and that’s why he’d have his outbursts of anger and take it out on others. He didn’t want to fail Rebecca or disappoint her. So he lied.

“Oh okay. Are you hungry?” she asked.

He shook his head. “No. But feel free to order whatever you like, baby. I’ve got to rehearse for the show tonight. I made some arrangements for you and some of the wives to go out and shop or do whatever. I want you wearing the prettiest dress for me tonight.” he smiled.

She furrowed her brow and leaned up against the door frame.

“I’m surprised you haven’t picked the dress out for me then.” she mumbled.

“If I had time I would have. They’ll be coming up in a bit.” he smiled as he grabbed his glasses and slipped them on. She watched him finish getting ready and as he stepped out of the room he grazed his hand against her waist as he walked by. She had gotten used to his ways of always wanting to touch her even if it was a small caress. Touching seemed to be his way of affection with women and after a while it stopped bothering her that she sometimes didn’t notice. She followed him to the front door of the suite and she couldn’t help but notice just how handsome he looked today that she caught herself staring at him and looking away when he would glance over at her.

“What time is the show tonight?” she asked.

“The first show is at 8pm and then there’s a midnight show.” he smiled.

“You do two shows a night?” she raised an eyebrow.

“Mhm..” he nodded.

She thought that was unusual considering he was performing almost everyday and now she furrowed her brow a bit with concern. But he’d been doing this for a while so she assumed he must know what he’s doing to be overworking himself like that. Elvis leaned over and kissed her cheek. “I’ve gotta go, honey. I’ll see you tonight. Jerry will bring you down to the show.” he hummed before he headed out of the room where the guys were waiting in the hall for him. She smiled a little and locked the door behind him. Now she felt so much pressure to look her best tonight because of him wanting her to be dressed just for him and usually she would’ve told any guy who said something like that to fuck off, but she actually wanted to look good for Elvis. She didn’t know what had gotten into her but even she was annoyed with herself for letting this man make her feel these stupid feelings of wanting to look good for a man. She could just imagine how the day was going to go with this group of women. She had no idea what introductions he’s made to them or if his friends mentioned to their wives how she and Elvis met and what line of work she was in and that made her nervous. She didn’t know what she was walking into. Would they think she was his girlfriend or friend? Or some pornstar he’s just showing off? Maybe they had all been gossiping about them already and assuming the worst. If that was the case she would be ready to set them straight with the truth.

Rebecca opted for her usual look: a pair of dark denim bell bottoms and a halter top and a pair of black platform heels. She brushed her hair out and kept it subtle with her makeup just wearing her usual light pink lipstick and mascara. As soon as she was ready she heard a knock at the door and soft voices, it was the ladies. She took a deep breath and went to answer the door and when she did she was surprised to see how much older they were compared to her and how different they dressed compared to her. The first woman to introduce herself was Joan Esposito and then Jerry’s girlfriend and Sonny’s wife.

“Rebecca, right? Wow, Elvis wasn’t kidding, you really are beautiful.” Joan asked.

Rebecca nodded in response to her question and then laughed because he was constantly going around bragging about her looks which always annoyed her. As they all made introductions with one another Rebecca felt that they seemed nice enough and no one was giving her any judgmental looks so she assumed they had no idea how she met Elvis or what she did. After getting acquainted with one another they headed out where a driver in Elvis’ caddy was waiting for them and they all got in excitedly. Rebecca was quiet for most of the ride smiling and nodding at their conversations as they were being driven to the nearest boutique. Then suddenly Sonny’s wife Judy turned her attention to Rebecca.

“So, how did you and Elvis meet?” she asked which now had the whole group's attention.

Rebecca hated being put on the spot like that but now she had no choice but to speak because they were all staring.

“Uh, he was in New York and we met on set.” she answered vaguely.

“On set? Are you an actress?” Joan chimed in.

Rebecca wanted this conversation over now because she hated when she had to lie about what she did because she never knew how people would react. But she was relieved Elvis didn’t say anything.

“Um, yeah, I uh.. I do commercials..” she lied with a smile.

“Oh, anything we may have seen?” Judy asked.

Rebecca laughed softly, shaking her head.

“I don’t think so.” she hummed.

“Well, there must be something special about you because he couldn’t stop talking about you. Are you two… together?” Judy asked, curious and prying.

“No, we’re just friends.” Rebecca answered and she could tell they were all giving her a look that said “Yeah right.” But it was the truth they were just friends and it was going to remain that way. But she could tell none of them were buying it.

After sometime the conversation finally shifted to something else other than Elvis and Rebecca was so thankful and even more thankful when they arrived at the store. She just wanted to get a dress and get out. She didn’t know how many more questions she could take.

She followed the women inside the cute boutique and they all scattered around looking at different things and Rebecca sifted through some of the dresses, trying to decide what Elvis would like best and rolling her eyes as she did because of how ridiculous she sounded. She finally found a dress she liked. It was a red slip dress with a plunging neckline and she fell in love with it and quickly took it off the rack to go try it on in the dressing room. Once she had gotten undressed she slipped the little dress on that hugged every inch of her curves and she filled it out well as the plunging neckline left little to the imagination when it came to her breasts and showed just enough of her thighs. She looked at herself in the mirror and smiled happily at how good she looked in it. This was the one. Elvis wanted her to look good and she certainly would be turning heads in this dress. After giving herself another look in the mirror she took the dress off and got dressed and grabbed her new dress, not even having to look for heels because she had the perfect heels for this dress. As the other women were still looking Rebecca went to check out and the owner telling her Elvis made sure everything would be paid for. She didn’t like that and being so stubborn she refused and decided to pay for own dress anyway. She didn’t want his money or for him to buy things for her. She didn’t feel right about it no matter how rich he may have been. After paying she decided to wait out in the car for the other women and lighting her first cigarette of the day as she stared out the window just taking it all in as she sat in silence.

Later That Day - 5:00PM

By the time they got back to the hotel Rebecca was completely exhausted, she thought they were just going to one store but they had gone to multiple. Some of the women didn’t find anything and then they stopped for lunch and took Rebecca for a little sightseeing. Which she appreciated. Before she headed back up to the suite she thanked them all for a fun day and she couldn’t have walked quicker to the elevator feeling relieved to finally be back and alone from all the gossip and cattiness. Once she got back into the suite she noticed Elvis was still out and she was glad so she could start getting her outfit together. She headed into her room and grabbed her bags, searching for the heels she pictured for this dress and successfully finding them. They were gold platform heels that complimented the pretty shade of red her dress had been. She set her heels down and laid the dress out on the bed. It was nearing 5:30 pm now and she decided to get a headstart on getting ready. She took a long hot shower and washed her hair and once she was finished she wrapped herself up in a towel, wiping the condensation from the mirror and brushing her teeth, doing her skincare routine and blowing drying her hair and curling it before she got started on her makeup. She wasn’t one for heavy makeup so much like her everyday look she kept it simple and just added some blush and mascara and a darker shade of lipstick. She walked back out into the bedroom still in her towel and checked the time and an hour had already passed. Shit.

She unraveled her towel and let it drop to the floor and she opted out of wearing panties with this dress since she already wasn’t wearing a bra and she slowly slipped the dress on and walked over to the mirror with a smile. She really did fill the dress out well that she’d probably have more than just Elvis’ attention tonight. She walked over to sit down and slip on her platform heels and then took a look at herself again and much like she guessed the heels were perfect. She did a few last touches adding earrings and a necklace and she began to feel anxious to see this show. She didn’t know what to expect. Just as she was fixing her hair one last time she heard a knock at the door and quickly headed out to answer it and seeing it was his friend Jerry. He did a double take as he looked her up and down. But knowing how Elvis was about his girls he didn’t say too much about her appearance. But she could tell he liked it.

“Hey, Elvis wanted me to bring you backstage before the show starts.” Jerry said.

“Oh okay, uh, let me get my purse.” she said nervously as she hurried back to grab her little clutch purse that matched her dress and returned to the front door where Jerry was waiting and the two of them headed out and she locked the door behind her and they headed down to the showroom where Jerry led her backstage. She looked around seeing how many people were already crowding into the showroom she never saw anything like before. Jerry kept her close as they made it through the screaming crowd and backstage where Elvis and some of the guys were along with some friends Elvis wanted to introduce Rebecca to. When they got to the room she could hear Elvis laughing with a few other people and then as she approached he became dead silent when he saw her and he nearly hopped out of his seat and wolf whistled at her.

“Well, I’ll be damned.. Honey, you sure fill out that dress! Let us get a look at ya.” he grinned as he took her hand and made her spin around for all the guys who were now staring at her tight fitting dress. She shook her head and let him have his moment showing her off like he loved to do. “Ain’t she pretty? Boy, I tell ya, I know how to pick ‘em.” he laughed. Rebecca shot him a look and rolled her eyes.

“Are you all done gawking at me now?” she said sharply.

She made them all laugh and especially Elvis who slipped his arm around her and whisked her away to another corner of the room and grabbed a hold of her hands and stepped back so he could get another look at her. “You’ll be the prettiest baby in the room tonight.” he grinned. She smiled and just laughed as he couldn’t stop staring at her.

“Now hold on, let me get a look at you.” she said with a smirk as she stepped back from him and gawked at him in the same way. But there was no denying that he looked good. In fact, even better than when he left earlier this afternoon. He had changed and was dressed in one of his famous jumpsuits; a navy blue two piece jumpsuit with blue armadillo and scallops on the shoulders. His hair was perfectly styled in place and his lashes dark with mascara. Now she was the one who couldn’t stop staring. He was a vision. “You look pretty good yourself.” she teased.

He smiled and soothed out his suit with a grin. “Thank you, baby.” he beamed. Now with the show closer to starting and the fans almost in their seats Elvis quickly introduced Rebecca to some of his friends she hadn’t met yet. One of those friends being his good friend Tom Jones. As he introduced her to everyone he kept a strong hold around her waist keeping her close to him the entire time and showing her off like she was some prized trophy. After some time he had to get ready to get onto the stage, but not before taking Rebecca to the side. “Jerry’s gonna take you to your seat. I made sure you got the best seat in the house just so I can see you. This is gonna be a great show. I can feel it because you’re here.” he smiled.

Rebecca smiled at his words and ran her hands over the fabric of his suit fixing it a bit. “Well, I can’t wait to see it and see you in action. I’m sure it’ll be great.” she hummed as she leaned up to kiss his cheek which made him smile more before the two parted ways. The anticipation to see him perform had been building and she didn’t know what to expect from it. As she got to her seat Jerry sat beside her with his girlfriend. Elvis wasn’t kidding when he said he made sure she had a good seat. She was front and center it felt like with the perfect view of the entire stage. She took a deep breath, smiling widely as the lights grew dim and the beginning of See See Rider began to play and the crowd went wild as he strutted out onto the stage. She was amazed at how crazy the crowd was already acting and he hadn’t even started singing yet. But once he did everyone lost their minds.

That powerful voice of his rangout and his body was wiggling and moving all about and the sweat was already pouring from his face. Rebecca sat there in awe of him watching him up on that stage singing old songs and new songs and just listening to how incredible his voice was and how he had the ability to move the audience. His stage presence alone had her impressed. She had never seen anything like it. He was like a god up on that stage and she was completely mesmerized by him that she couldn’t keep her eyes off him. She could feel things within her building as she watched him. She was nearly sitting at the edge of her seat. She was truly speechless. She watched as the women nearly worshiped and kissed the ground he walked on as they fought to get to the stage just to get a touch of him or a scarf and kiss. Which he had no qualms of giving out like candy. It was the greatest thing she had seen in her life. It was a rush.

There was no time in between the first show and the midnight show for her to go back and talk to him and she was so excited to congratulate him on a great show. But she had no problems sitting through another that was just as great as the first even if she could tell he had been a little tired by the time the midnight show happened. As the late night was finally coming to an end and the show to a close the crowd was roaring with excitement and the women shouting his name. Jerry quickly got up and escorted the small group and herself out and backstage to Elvis who was dripping in sweat and his perfectly brushed hair was a mess and he had a towel draped around him to catch the sweat. He was so amped up that his leg was still shaking like a leaf. Rebecca stood there just staring at him talking to his friends and feeling herself getting hot as she couldn’t stop staring at him and he smiled when he caught a glimpse of her and waved her over. She cleared her throat and tried to get herself together now, smiling happily as she approached him and before she could say a word Elvis was already speaking at a mile a minute.

“What did you think of the show, baby? Did you like it?” he beamed as he wiped the sweat from his face.

“I loved it, Elvis! It was amazing. It was truly an experience to watch you up there. I’m impressed.” she teased, smiling.

“Thank you, baby. That means a lot.” he smiled and kissed her cheek.

She smiled and let out a soft yawn. It had been such a long day and she still wasn’t adjusted to the time difference. Elvis noticed her yawning. “Did you wanna go up to the room?” he asked.

“If that’s okay? I’m a bit tired after all the fun today.” she giggled.

“Of course, honey. I’ll have Jerry take you up.” he said.

“That’s not necessary, I know where the room is.” she said.

“I insist.” Elvis replied as he gestured for Jerry to come over and asked him to walk Rebecca up to the suite for him and he was happy to do so.

“I’ve told you, I’m a big girl.” she huffed.

“Don’t I know it, baby.” he smirked, looking her up and down and giving her dress another look.

She shook her head at him and playfully hit him before she went off with Jerry who kindly walked her back to the suite.

“Elvis should be up soon.” he said with a smile before he left her.

She exhaled sharply and let out another yawn as she slipped off her heels that were now hurting her feet and she went to her room to get showered and get into more comfortable clothes. Sporting her usual bedtime look a pair of panties and a t-shirt and she threw her hair up into a bun. She couldn’t get over Elvis’ performance and she was a little mad that she never gave Elvis a chance when her mom would try to get her to like him. But she just never knew just how talented he was; she just assumed he did terrible movies and sang about a hound dog. He never failed to surprise her and now she was thinking back about the plane ride there and the song he showed her. Now all she wanted to hear was that song again. She smiled to herself and grabbed one of the books he had given to her to read; his favorite, The Impersonal Life. She took the book and sat down on the couch as she waited for him.

Not too long after she had come upstairs he had followed suit 30 minutes later and he walked into the room with that towel still around him and a smile on his face when he saw Rebecca on the couch reading his favorite book. She looked up and smiled widely at him.

“I thought you’d be asleep by now, darlin’. he hummed.

“I wanted to wait for you. I figured we’d catch another episode of The Carol Burnett Show.” she smiled.

A warm smile formed on his tired face and he nodded. “I’d like that. Let me get showered first and then I’m all yours.” he replied.

She smiled and nodded watching him go to his room and sat back against the couch and continued to read her book until he was ready. About 15 minutes had gone by and he was showered and dressed in his pajamas and he stood in the doorway of his room.

“Ready when you are, honey. I’ve got the pillow barrier set up so they’ll be no funny business.” he teased, laughing.

“Better not be.” she laughed as she stood up and set the book down on the coffee table and headed into his bedroom where they both climbed into his bed sitting the same as they did last night and she climbed beneath the blankets and the television already on the same channel as before and the two of them watching television and sharing small glances at each other. Elvis grabbed the remote and turned the volume down and Rebecca furrowed her brow and glanced over at him wondering what he was doing.

“Can I ask you a question, baby?” Elvis said softly.

“Yeah, sure. Shoot.” she answered.

“What did you think of the show?” he asked.

She raised an eyebrow at him. “You already asked me that question, Elvis.” she laughed.

“Yeah, I know. You gave me the answer I wanted to hear because everyone was around. I want your honest opinion of what you thought of the show. Please?” he asked.

She chewed at the inside of her cheek and took a deep breath. She loved the show, there was no doubt about it. But there were some things she personally wasn’t all that into. She wanted to be honest with him but didn’t want him to be upset. But she knew that her being honest with him is what he loved the most about their friendship. She bit at her bottom lip and nodded.

“Well.. Like I said earlier, I loved it. I really did, Elvis. I never knew what a stage presence you had. I knew your voice was incredible when you played that song for me. But actually hearing it in person like that.. wow. I was blown away, truly. You are an amazing singer, performer and I couldn’t keep my eyes off you. You have the potential to do so much more with your voice and your talents. Why don’t you write your own songs? You put so much emotion into singing other people’s songs, I can only imagine how you would sound singing something of your own.” she said.

He smiled and reached over to place his hand on top of hers and gave it a few gentle pats. “Thank you. I really appreciate you saying that. I mean it.. It means a lot coming from you. I don’t know.. I’ve tried to write songs, but it's not for me. I just want to sing.” he shrugged.

She nodded and took his hand into hers and held it.

“I’d love to read those songs you tried to write. I bet they’re amazing.” she smiled.

He shook his head and intertwined their fingers together. “I-I don’t know about that. But I’m sure I’ve got them scribbled down somewhere..” he hummed.

“Well, I hope you think about maybe finishing those songs you tried to write. You’re so talented I wouldn’t be surprised if that was just a hidden talent of yours you just haven’t discovered yet.” she smiled.

“Maybe. We’ll see.. Who knows.” he smiled and squeezed her hand in his as he stared at her. “You know I’m not the only one with talent in this room. You’ve got more potential than what you give yourself credit for, honey. You could be doin’ more. I still want to help you do that, y’know.” he spoke softly.

She smiled warmly at him and neither one of them even noticed that they had slowly moved closer to one another and that the pillow in between them was almost nonexistent now.

“I appreciate that, Elvis. But don’t worry about me. Whatever happens will happen. You’ve got your own career to focus on.” she hummed.

“Stop.. I’ve been at this for nearly 20 years.. Yours is just beginning, honey. You are special. You’re beautiful, funny, kind, well.. Sometimes.” he laughed. “And you are wasting all that beauty and talent on porn when you could be up on the screen and becoming the next Jane Fonda or Ann-Maragret.” he said.

She laughed.

“Don’t be silly, Elvis.. Now you’re just trying to be nice.” she said, looking away from him and letting out a sigh. He reached over, his thumb placed beneath her chin to make her look at him. She stared up at him with those big green eyes of hers, staring into his soft blue eyes that stared right into her soul. Now they were closer than ever as their bodies practically brushed against each other.

“I’m not. I mean it.. You’ll be a star. You’ll see.” he whispered.

“You’re sweet for believing in me the way that you do..” she mumbled.

“You believe in me.” he whispered as their eyes were completely locked on another and their faces slowly inching closer and their breathing hitched that the sound of the television was muffled by the sounds of each breath they took before their lips were hovering over one another. She felt her heart racing that it felt like it was going to beat out of her chest and then suddenly that anxious feeling washed away when their lips crashed together in a deep passionate kiss. Elvis grabbed the pillow that was in between them and tossed it to the side, slipping his arms around her small waist and nearly pulling her into his lap. She let out a soft whimper as they continued to kiss deeply, their bodies rubbing against each other and his hands squeezing and groping her thighs as he lifted himself up and flipped them around so he was on top of her. Rebecca slipped her around his broad shoulders and her thighs wrapped around his waist. The weight of him on top of her only made her body desire him more. As much as her brain was telling her to stop this her body just wasn’t responding the same way. Her body wanted him. Yearned for him and had for quite some time. But her mind always fought so well against those feelings.

Elvis let out a soft groan against her lips as they began to trail down her neck and he left small kisses against it and his hands slipping beneath her t-shirt and squeezing her breasts which caused a gasp to escape her parted lips as her head tilted back against the pillows and soft sounds leaving her lips before he kissed her deeply once again. Now she felt his hands wander down to her panties, his fingers caressing the soft fabric of them and just as he was going to slip them off that’s when she snapped herself back into reality and started thinking like herself again and how she didn’t want this to happen. She placed her hands against his chest and tried to push him away and she pulled back from their kiss. But he didn’t get the hint until she yelled.

“S-Stop.. Stop!” she said shakily, pushing him off. “I-I don’t want to do this.. I..” she stuttered frantically.

Elvis quickly sat up as she continued to push him away, he furrowed his brow in confusion. “W-What’s the matter? I’m sorry.. I thought.. What’s wrong?” he asked.

She sat up in the bed and fixed her clothes and shook her head. “I don’t want this. We.. We’re friends. This isn’t supposed to happen.” she answered.

“Friends? Rebecca, baby, I know you feel something for me.. I felt it when you kissed me.. Would ya stop calling us friends! We aren’t friends!” he said, annoyed.

He couldn’t understand her. Why did she have to make this so hard? He knew she felt something for him. He was sure of it.. He could feel it. The way she smiled and flirted with him, the way she looked at him and held his hand. It didn’t feel like a friendship to him. He was in love. He wished she had been awake when he confessed it.

She scoffed and climbed out of his bed and Elvis grabbed a hold of her hand. “Where are you going? Stay. ‘M sorry. We’ll just watch tv.. I’ll put the pillow back. I didn’t mean to upset you.” he said as his voice grew softer. She snatched her hand away from him and shook her head.

“It’s late. I’m tired. I think it’s best if I go to my room now..” she mumbled as she walked over to the door.

Elvis sighed, looking up at her. “Fine.. It’s been a long day for both of us.” he muttered.

She nodded as she opened his bedroom door and before she walked out she turned to look at him again and he was still looking at her, those blue eyes now a pool of sadness as they shared a longing look with each other. Saying so much more with their eyes in those small moments. Now she thought back on what happened on the plane and what she heard and so badly hoping that it wasn’t true just so this wouldn’t be real. “Well.. Goodnight, Rebecca.” Elvis mumbled.

“Goodnight, Elvis..” she replied before she left his room and shut the door behind her. As she stood on the opposite side of the door she let out a long and shaky exhale and she could feel her heart racing again and as she stood there trying to calm her nerves, she knew in that very moment that any ounce of a friendship they had was completely doomed when they shared that kiss. The truth is she did feel something for him and it was having to come to the realization of those feelings she had been trying to suppress and pretend didn’t exist that scared her. But what scared her the most was being in love..

Being in love with Elvis scared her even more.

Tagging: @18lkpeters @peaceloveelvis @iloveelvis @elvispresleygf @wanderingelvis @richardslady121 @dkayfixates @jfkkenndy @doll-elvis @kendralavon7 @honey6578 @azzawrites @marie73ep @wanderlustingtomboy @powerofelvis @lindszeppelin @angelborn-alyssa @literally-just-elvis-fics

#elvis presley #elvis imagine #elvis x reader #elvis x oc #elvis smut #elvis fluff #elvis fanfic #elvis #70s elvis #big daddy #big daddy elvis #pretty baby series

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lily-drake · 3 years

Text

De-Aged

Jason: holy shit- she's so tiny!

Dick: *agitated* Jason, focus, what do we do??

Jason: *coos at the baby Marinette* I haven't seen her this small in forever.

Dick: we need- Jason! Focus! what do we do???

Jason: *shrugs* wait it out? I don't know.

Inspired by @bambicambi

Annoyance coursed through Marinette’s veins as she saw the new Akuma of the day. Of course it happened when her family came to visit. Looking up to the sky and praying for strength she turned her back to the chaos, something she would soon regret. Her brothers were asking her what the heck was going on, and as she opened her mouth a baby pink ray of light hit her, and Marinette poofed and in her place sat 4-year-old Marinette Wayne.

Jason and Dick stared at the small child on the ground in shock and after the moments were over Jason eagerly picked her up and spun her around.

“Holy sh*! She’s so tiny!”

Jason called out as he held the small giggling girl to his chest. Dick, was rightfully frustrated and walking in small circles and quickly said,

“Jason, focus, what do we do?”

Upon hearing Jason making cooing noises, he swiftly turned to look at Jason.

“I haven’t seen her this small in forever!”

He exclaimed, nuzzling his nose against the small Marinette.

“We need-Jason! Focus! What do we do?”

Jason shrugged as he held Marinette against his hip. She giggled and tugged at his jacket.

“Wait it out? I don’t know.”

Dick opened her mouth, but stopped when Marinette began to speak.

“Jay-Jay! Ride! Ride!”

Jason’s grin grew and gently set her down while holding her hand. He squared down and carefully released her hand. He could not express the pure amount of joy he felt when she climbed onto his back and wrapped her tiny hands around his neck.

“Jason, have you just forgotten the weirdly dressed flying child that not only turned Marinette, but all of Paris into kids?!”

He…had forgotten. But can you blame him? Marinette was so tiny when she was a kid, and he hadn’t seen her like this in forever.

“Look, contact Zatanna while I keep her safe and distracted.”

Dick sighed in relief replying,

“Alri-wait a minute.”

Jason was already running with a giddily screaming Marinette.

“No fair, I want to cuddle my baby sister too!”

He sighed in frustration, and no he was not pouting. Quickly pulling out his communicator he dialed Zatanna.

“Hello?”

“Hey, so I’m in Paris visiting some family, and this flying kid in really weird clothes is going around de-aging people. Could you come see what’s going on please?”

“Pardon, but what?”

“Yea, it sho-“

Dick quickly ran through the streets dodging beams that were now directed towards him. Why did stuff like this always happen when they traveled?

A few moments later a portal opened and he had never been more relieved to see Zatanna in his life. Zatanna looked around and looked at the villain. As she studied it and was about to jump in, a neon butterfly mask appeared over the child’s face and she realized what this was.

“I can’t do anything, sorry Dick.”

“What?! Why?!”

“This is ancient magic, probably the most ancient magic in the universe. There should be others…, see,”

She said pointing to a cat-like figure in the distance. Dick stared in confusion, what was happening?

While Dick was trying to figure everything out Jason was having the time of his life with Tiny Mari. He was especially thankful that when she was blasted that her clothes were transformed into a white t-shirt and overalls with lions stitched throughout them. He had taken so many pictures of them. We’re people running around everywhere scared, yes, yes they were. But that didn’t stop him from enjoying as much time as he could with his tiny sister like he used to.

“Jay-Jay! There’s a fairy in my pocket!”

“How is there a fairy in the Pixie’s pocket?”

He asked jokingly while swinging the hands back and forth!

“Lookin lookie! It’s a Ladybug fairy! She’s so pwetty.”

Marinette held Tikki in both of her hands and jumped up and down trying to get him to look. Jason chuckled and looked down at the toy. It was cute, he had never seen something like it before. Then it blinked, and flew out of Marinette’s hand, and oh gosh, IT CAN TALK?!

“Marinette, you need to help Chat Noir defeat the akuma?”

“Akuma matata!”

Marinette called out with a giggle. Jason would have laughed, if it weren’t for the flying bug thing talking to his sister, who was currently 4, telling her to help someone defeat the crazed villain.

“Woah! Are you insane?! Look at her?! How do you expect her to fight?!”

The thing looked conflicted before sighing and saying,

“Well, do you want to fight it? You just need to wear the earrings, I can run you through what you need to do!”

“No!”

Marinette screamed.

“I want to be like you and daddy! It’s my turn to help people!”

“Marinette, you're too young.”

Tears began to well up in the small child’s eyes.

“I-it’s no fair! You al-always say that! I want to help!”

She finished stamping her foot definitely with a sharp glare. Jason sighed in exhaustion and turned to the floating creature. He mumbles under his breath,

“Can’t believe I’m letting this happen.”

He knew by the way Marinette was gripping at her ears and the definence in her stance. He could easily take them by force, but he didn’t want to hurt her or make her angry and feel betrayed.

“Can you assure above all else that she will be completely and utterly safe. I will join as well in my hero suit to make absolutely sure.”

“Yes, she has a partner as well who will watch out for her.”

He sighed in relief at that, but there was a new and very heavy weight on his chest that wouldn’t leave until this event was over. He listened to the fairy tell Marinette what she needed to do and almost smiled at the determined face she was making. Her cheeks were so chubby and-no, focus! He pulled out an extra domino mask he always carried with him and zipped up his leather jacket. When he turned around there was a burst of pink light and where Tiny Mari once stood stood his sister in the cutest outfit he had ever seen! It was similar to his old Robin outfit, but closer to Tim’s as she thankfully felt that there needed to be pants. She had small wings on her back with a black cape with red bottom edges that shielded them from view. And in her hands was a tiny yo-yo. Before anything else could happen, he quickly pulled out his phone and took pictures. He wanted to show this to Bruce and brag, sue him.

Soon after that they both left to the rooftops. He was honestly surprised by how easily she maneuvered around the roofs and how easily her yo-yo grappled and released from things. They soon landed next to a Cat Woman knock-off who turned to look at them in surprise and exhaustion. When Marinette saw him she quickly turned to him and tugged on his sleeve. Jason crouched down and Mini-bug leaned close to his ear and whispered,

“Does Selie have a son?”

Jason snickered and glanced up at the kid. He seemed to have heard them if the ears twitching and confused look said anything.

“No Pix. He was just inspired.”

“Oh, okie-dokie!”

“So, I’m assuming you two know each other and she was hit out of suit?”

“Yep, basically.”

“Right. Well, we just need to break the wand, but I can’t get close.”

“Little Lady, cast your charm.”

Mini-bug puffed up her cheeks making her old —and most adorable— thinking face before yelling out while throwing the yo-yo into the air,

“Lucky Charm!”

“A red and black spotted rubber bullet dropped into Mini's awaiting palms. Jason promptly took the bullet and loaded it into his gun, it was the perfect fit. The hideously dressed child flew over to them and flourished her wand creating the opening Jason needed. With one quick shot the bullet flew through the air and hit the wand causing it to snap. A black and purple butterfly began to fly out and mini quickly caught it. She quickly released it bouncing on her heels in pure joy as a wide smile grew onto her face.

“Told ya I coul’ do it!”

“Yes you did, good job Pix.”

Chat Noir, who they hadn’t noticed disappeared, came back with the bullet and handed it to the small girl. She threw the bullet into the air jumping up as well and yelled out,

“Miraculous Ladybug!”

Millions of Ladybugs flew through the air repairing damages and Turing people back to normal ending with Ladybug herself. Ladybug looked around confusedly and saw Chat on her right and Red Hood on her left. Memories of the past hour flashed through her mind and she promptly hid her face in her hands and a deep blush bloomed across her face.

“This is a disaster, a complete disaster.”

“I don’t know Bug, was it?”

Jason asked with a crap eating grin.

“Yes.”

Came her mumbled response. Jason laughed and ruffled her hair, Marinette was too miserable to care.

“We should go make sure golden boy isn’t panicking too much, don’t ya think?”

Marinette sighed tiredly and nodded, I guess so.

“Sorry Chat, I promise I’ll explain later. Bug out.”

And as quickly as she could she swung away with Red Hood laughing and not too far behind.

“B is going to hate that he missed this.”

He called through the air causing a loud groan to escape her lips.

“Don’t show him!”

“Too late Pix, already sent them all to the group chat.”

“I hate you.”

“Love you to Babybug.”

Marinette groaned again and Jason laughed all the way to where they found Dick and Zatanna talking in an alleyway.

Taglist:

@queenz-z @aespades @fandomsaremylifeline @stainedglassm @toodaloo-kangaroo @prettylittlebutterflie @trippingovermyfeet @liquid-luck-00 @unoriginalmess @buginetye @miraculouslydumb @aurcad123

#maribat #BDBWM2021 #bio!dad bruce wayne #marinette wayne #marinette dupain cheng #sibling au #sibling daminette #sibling jasonette #shenanigans #fluff #day 14 #cute #de-aged #mlb x batman #dc x mlb #mlb x dc

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linuseer · 3 years

Text

Okay here are my grievances with the Loki show:

Loki isn’t the protagonist or focus of his own show–and no this shouldn’t be “a Loki” show, the MCU aka Earth-199999 main Loki is the one played by the Hiddleston actor and the one people actually wanted to see in the first place

The narcissist bullshit–you show-guys better fix that in the second part or I’ll never forgive you, which is a relatively small threat considering I’m a nobody but fuck I swear if that doesn’t get solved I’ll never consume a Marvel product again

The “Mobius gave Loki therapy” bullshit–the show never actually framed the interrogations as “therapy” (thank fuck) but everyone, insider and outsider, seems to think it is?? That’s... not a good thing

Also I appreciated Loki’s expression in ep6 when Miss Minutes mentioned killing Thanos, but why is that the only instance of something like that we get–Ep1 had promises of finally addressing all the shit Loki went through and the show never delivered. There wasn’t need to have a sit down talk about all of it, but more instances like the one in ep6 would have been gold. I thought ep1 was a setup but instead it was a speed run of... everything. Both a cliffhanger and a brick wall to slam into and just... was left there

The use of 616 stuff seemingly at random–especially God Of Stories Loki’s crown with the broken horn just put on Sylvie with no further explanation. That crown is important, very much so, in 616, just slapping that crown on an OC who doesn’t even want to be Loki feels fucking wrong

The Sylvie + Amora + Mary Sue OC mashup horror–wtf. Just wtf. Also it may seem extremely petty but I fucking hate the fact that she’s blonde. A blonde Loki. Horror material

The whole romance copout–romance in a Loki show? Using romance to show self-love? What kinda amatonormative bullshit trash cliche is that. Had to show self-love through a het romantic relationship between what should be two iterations of the same person, stale and cheap. Also it seems to be 85% of what everyone everywhere is focusing on instead of literally anything else that’s arguably 100% more interesting. Basic and boring af

The outright queerbaiting–nice and all they’ve mentioned bisexuality, for me would have been fine even if they left it at that and a suggestive glance to characters here and there, as said imo fleshed out romance is a waste of storytelling in a Loki plot. But the gender fluid stuff? Leaving it as a printed word in a file, never mentioning it anywhere in the actual show, having other Loki variants show surprise at the idea of a female Loki, that’s... low. Unworthy of all the praise and attention it gets, at least

I’ve seen others say there’s racism, I agree in the only way a white European can agree–aka I see pocs say it’s not the right kind of representation so I listen to them and try to offer as much support as I can. To sum it up, poc characters are brutish and selfish (Hunter B15, Ravonna, “Boastful” Loki–really? Even the nickname) and/or immediately discarded after they’ve served their marginal purpose (Hunter C20)

Who tf hired this Waldron guy and why–the writer’s interviews just?? Seem to show he based his interpretation of Loki on personal headcanons mixed with the Thor: Ragnarok characterization??? A characterization which also is objectively a very personal one of another director for a film that in the Loki show hasn’t even happened???? Sir??????

“Loki’s character arc is that now he doesn’t want a throne” bullshit

Holy crap.

#loki show critical #loki show negativity #anti loki show #?#anti sylki

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221castiel · 3 years

Text

Yesterday - Chapter One

Master Post // AO3

He isn't exactly sure why he wants it so badly, his own parents were only married for five years before Mary had died and even then it was only a year later when John had stopped wearing his ring. Opting to instead leave it some drawer filled with other forgotten items; pennies and keys with no purpose other than to collect dust. Cas's parents had divorced when he was nineteen. Something that had become a long legal battle over every little thing, the house, the kids, every single piece of silverware that filled the kitchen.

Marriage had never been a permanent thing in either of their lives, and yet, Dean wanted it. He wanted it the same way he wanted the sun to set every night and rise every morning. He wanted to whisper each vow as he stared into Cas's vibrant eyes, to feel the other's lips as they kissed for the first time as a married couple. Dean wouldn't consider himself a romantic, he was just as happy to stay at home and watch Game of Thrones as he would be going on an over planned date, and yet, he wanted every sappy moment he would roll his eyes at growing up. The first dance, shoving cake in each other's faces, the perfect ring, which Dean had quickly learned is something far easier said than done.

It had taken months of stopping at the mall's jewelry store, sorting through each shipment of new rings before he'd finally found the perfect one.

"Holy shit," Charlie cries, her nose only inches from the glass case that she'd lent over, "that's a lot of bling." Dean nods, a grin tugging at his lips. Charlie's excitement was contagious, warming his chest as she continued to study the ring. He had a ring. He was going to propose. It was happening. "Seriously dude," Charlie continues in the same raised voice, "Marline Monroe would be jealous of this."

"Well could you keep it down," Dean teases, as one of the workers behind the counter gives them a side glance that he's frankly too excited to care about. "Or at least let me buy the ring before you get us kicked out."

Charlie looks up, a wide smile across her face. Her bright hair had been pulled back in a ponytail though through the workday it had begun to fall out and now framed her face in small strands. "Sorry," Charlie whispers, a grin still spread across her lips. She stands up properly and adjusts her walmart vest that she'd draped over her arm. "I'm just so excited for you- and jealous of Cas."

"I'll buy you one next."

"I'm holding you to that," Charlie teases, causing Dean to roll his eyes.

She looks back to the glass case and Dean steps forward looking over her shoulder at the rings that fill it, his gaze immediately finding the ring he'd spent the past weeks looking at. The band itself is silver, the center lined with small diamonds, while the edges were carved with a leaf like pattern. In the center a large diamond sat, catching the store's bright light and reflecting it in small shimmers. "Do you think he's going to like it?" Dean whispers. He'd been sure Cas would, but now he couldn't kick the tug in his stomach, the thought that maybe he's better off saving for a little longer, buying one a little bit more expensive or with a bigger diamond.

"He's going to love it," Charlie replies.

Dean looks up as Charlie goes silent, meeting her concerned gaze. Her lips pressed in a tight line, eyes darting over Dean's face, eyebrows knit together, her whole expression weighs on him. He already knows he doesn't want to hear whatever she has to say. Is it too late to walk away?

Despite the sudden dread that weighs on his shoulders, Charlie continues speaking. "Look," she begins, "I want to be all supportive and stuff, I really do, but how the hell can you afford this, it's gotta be more than you and Cas make in a month."

"I've been savin'"

"For what the past century?"

"Three years and just under ten months," Dean corrects. He shrugs his shoulders looking back down to the ring. "But who really keeps track of that crap."

Dean shoves his hand into his jean pockets, pressing his lips together as he looks across the rings. He can feel Charlie's eyes burning against the side of his head, but he refuses to meet them, he already knows the expression that would sit across her face, concentrated and curious, trying to figure out Dean's exact thoughts.

Charlie takes a small step closer, and Dean doesn't move, continuing to study a rose gold ring that holds a dark blue jewel in the center. "Dean," Charlie says, her voice low and gentle. "You know Cas would be just as happy with a cheaper ring, something you can actually afford."

"Cas would be happy with a fuckin' ring pop," Dean grumbles. "Doesn't mean I can't buy him something better."

"Could you push a side your prince charming complex for five minutes, and not make the most financially stupid decision of your life?"

Dean looks back to the silver ring. He knows Charlie's right, hell the thought has been in the back of his mind since he'd begun saving, putting every extra penny or dollar won during a game of pool, aside. They could pay off almost two months of their health insurance, fix their bathroom sink, save the money for if an emergency came. Dean could think of a million different things the money could go towards. Things Cas, who was far too selfless for his own good, would want the money to go towards, yet Dean couldn't bring himself to do it.

"Charlie-"

"You can't-"

"No," Dean insists, looking back to the other. "I'm going to do it."

Charlie's expression softens her lips tugging into a gentle smile. A gesture that's so simple yet seems to lift whatever weight that'd been resting across Dean's shoulders, easing his breathing, and allowing him to return the smile. "He's going to love it," Charlie says.

"I hope so."

His feet ache as he doesn't so much as walk down the apartment building's hallway but drag himself, the dim lights above casting shadows over the dingy hallway walls. Stopping at his apartment Dean pulls the keys from his pocket, the sound of fighting from the neighbours clear through the thin walls.

Fuck people. After a six hour morning shift at Walmart followed by a five hour shift at McDonald's filled with bitchy people and forced smiles, Dean was done with people. Especially loud neighbours that spent nights fighting until they broke up, only to get back together a few days later. If he had to listen to make up sex even once that night he was complaining to the landlord.

A loud crash comes from their neighbours and Dean sighs. Maybe he'd prefer the makeup sex over hate sex.

He finally manages to unlock the door and step into his apartment where he's immediately met by silence, the main room of the apartment -a small joint living room and kitchen- dimly lit by the living room table lamp. Though other than the lamp and a few dirty dishes there was no sign of anyone else. Not that Dean minds, it gives him a moment to breath. A moment to catch his thoughts and relax.

After dropping his things onto the kitchen chair Dean goes to get a glass of water, though his attention quickly changes as he stops at the kitchen counter where papers were spread out. A mix of bills and lined papers that were covered in Cas's neat writing.

Across the top of one page the words, Next Month's Budget, had been printed. Various numbers were printed underneath as Cas balanced out their income, trying to figure out how they could buy new light bulbs while saving money for Jack's birthday. He feels sick just looking at the numbers.

He already knew everything on the page. There were no surprises, medical insurance took out most of his income, car insurance took what was left. Everything Cas made was spent on food and rent, making sure the heat stayed on the months they really needed it and that water came when they stepped in the shower. There was close to nothing left.

He already knew that.

And yet he feels sick.

He flips the page over to read the back, though he doesn't get more than a glance before the sound of footsteps comes, followed by Jack's voice, "dad!"

Dean turns at the sound, forcing a smile across his face as Jack comes running towards him, a wide smile across the child's and his arms out for Dean to pick him up. "Hey kid," Dean hums, picking Jack and resting him against his hip. "Did you have a good day?"

"So good!" Jack cries, wrapping his arms around Dean's neck in an awkward half hug, causing a genuine smile to tug at Dean's lips. A warmth spreading across his chest that has him gripping Jack together as the child buries his face into Dean's neck.

"So good, huh?"

"So so good!"

Dean laughs, smiling down at Jack. "What made it so good?"

"We goed to the park," Jack says, burying his face further into the crook of Dean's neck where he rubbed his nose much to Dean's disgust, then made a soft sniffle. "And- and drawed."

"All while you're sick?"

"I'm not sick!"

"He's been refusing to take the cold medication," Cas says, Dean's gaze immediately darting up at the sound of Cas's low voice. He stood at the entrance of their hallway wearing one of Dean's AC/DC shirts, his dark hair tousled with strands overlapping one another or simply sticking out in random directions as a small smile rests across his face that Dean returns. How couldn't he. When his boyfriend was standing there looking gorgeous even with his messy hair and slightly darkened eyes from lack of sleep. Boyfriend- hopefully soon to be fiance.

"I don't want it," Jack grumbles. Dean looks back down to the pouty expression that now rests across Jack's face, his bottom lip puckered out, and eyes pleading. Something that only makes Dean's smile grow. "It's bad, I want ice cream!"

"How about you take the medicine," Dean offers, "and I'll get you some ice cream, deal?"

Jack stares back for a moment, bottom lip still puckered out as he gives a firm nod. "Deal."

After Jack runs off to the bathroom, Dean grabs a bowl from the cabinet filling it up with a few spoonfuls of vanilla ice cream before he walks out of the kitchen. He makes his way down the small hallway and into Jack's room where he finds Jack standing on his bed while Cas helps him get into his superman pajamas.

"Superman?" Dean hums as he steps into the room, careful not to break any of the toys that scatter the floor. "Batman's way cooler."

"See Daddy," Jack cries to Cas, "I telled you! I telled you!"

"I know Bee," Cas replies as he helps Jack slide his arms through the shirt's holes. "But they need to be washed."

"I want them now!"

"You can have them tomorrow night."

"Tonight you'll just have to be lame Superman," Dean teases as he takes a seat on Jack's bed. He knows it's not a good time, Cas is obviously tired, and Jack is starting to get sick, something that always leaves him a little more sensitive, but he can't help himself. He knows it's worth it when Cas sends him a glare, an expression that Dean finds far cuter than he ever should.

"Daddy!" Jack cries, Burying his face into Cas's chest as Cas wraps his arms around the child and rubs small circles into his back.

Cas leans down pressing a kiss to Jack's head. "It's okay Bee," He whispers gently, though when he looks back up the glare he gives Dean is anything but that. "You're provoking him," Cas whispers.

He definitely was.

"Am not," Dean replies in a similar low tone. Cas's eyes narrow, and Dean sighs. "Let me fix it."

It takes a few minutes for Dean to calm Jack down, between a mix of apologies and promises that Superman was in fact a very cool super hero, and in fact almost as cool as Batman. By the time he does, Jack is more than happy to eat his almost melted ice cream, then receive a piggy back ride to the bathroom where he brushes his teeth, and continues to tell Dean about his day. Specifically about the squirrel he'd seen at the park and the tv shows he'd watched in the morning. Finally after a long conversation about a show Dean's never even heard of, Dean manages to get Jack into bed, whispering a goodnight before he goes to flick off the lights.

He reaches out to the light switch, his finger grazing it before he hesitates, looking back at Jack.

Even in the single bed Jack looks small, far too small for a four year old. The doctors had insisted it was fine, a common side effect to a chronic illness, nothing anyone could fix, and yet Dean couldn't help but feel guilty. A weight in his stomach as if he'd swallowed lead, he wanted to fix it so bad, wanted to make sure Jack was never going to be anything but okay. He wanted to fix it no matter how many times he was told he couldn't, and he knew Cas felt the same way.

Jack made a small sniffle then his eyes fluttered open, meeting Dean's stare. "Dad?" Jack whispers, his voice sounding more nasally than before.

"Yah?"

"I love you."

"I love you too," Dean whispers back, a small smile tugging at his lips as he flips the light switch.

After stepping out of Jack's room, Dean takes a deep breath allowing himself a second to calm his heart before he walks into his own bedroom, finding it empty. The living room and kitchen is exactly the same as when he first got home, the lamp still dimly glowing, dirty dishes and papers still scattering the surfaces. The only difference is that the porch door had been propped open, letting the night air linger through the living room

Dean walks across the livingroom and to the porch doorway, where he leans his shoulder. An easy smile spreads across his face as he watches Cas stand over one of the many plant pots that cover their tiny porch.

With a pair of scissors in hand Cas carefully looks over the pot of Marigolds, cutting off any leaves that had begun to wither and letting them fall off the porch and onto the street below. A concentrated expression rests across Cas's features as inspects the plants, his lips pressed in a tight line and eyes narrowed, his fingers working carefully. How Cas had the patience to watch something grow, to care for something so frequently, Dean would never know.

"It's cold," Dean finally says, stepping onto the deck. Cas doesn't look up and instead picks up his watering can, tilting it over to let the water soak the marigolds. "Do you need a coat?"

"I'm fine."

"You won't be saying that when you're sick."

"I won't get sick."

"Just cause you don't get cold doesn't mean you can't get sick," Dean mumbles.

Cas looks up, the smallest smile tugging at his lips as he tilts his head to right, a small action that always brings a warmth to Dean's chest. A comforting feeling that leaves him wanting more, one more look of Cas's eyes, one more touch of his fingers that were surely frozen from the chilled wind, one more second of just being with the other.

"Dean," Cas insists in his usual gravelly, monotone voice. "I am fine."

Despite Cas's arguments Dean tugs the first sleeve of his jacket off and then the second, the evening air immediately freezing against his bare arms. "Comeon angel," Dean says, offering his jacket. "Humor me."

Cas narrows his eyes, but still takes the jacket from Dean's hand and pulls it around himself before turning back to the plants. Dean leans against the deck railing no longer trying to speak and instead watches as Cas works his way from plant to plant, trimming leaves, and drizzling them with water. He can hear the distant sound of voices in the streets below, some kind of fight that could be just heard over the ambulance sirens from a few blocks away, both noises that occur far more frequently than Dean would ever like.

Maybe it wasn't a good time to buy an engagement ring, maybe they'd be better off saving to move to a different apartment. Somewhere nicer, where kids didn't walk in the middle of the streets because it was safer than walking near the alleyways, or near parks that weren't filled with used needles and other things that had Dean caring Jack rather then letting the child walk (though honestly Dean wasn't sure if Chicago had any parks not like that). Maybe they'd be better off buying light bulbs or saving for the over the top birthday Dean knew Cas wanted Jack to have.

Saving it would be the best choice, yet Dean couldn't bring himself to not picture the ring. To not imagine how Cas's eyes would light up as Dean opened the box, he'd say yes, Dean had never been so certain of anything in his life. Cas would say yes, and then they'd kiss, holding onto one another as if it was their last moments alive.

"Do you regret anything?" Dean suddenly says, his mind spinning with too many what ifs to stop himself.

Cas pauses for a second, before he continues inspecting the small tomato plant that had just begun to sprout. "No," Cas replies, his voice steady, though Dean can hear something else in it, hesitation, maybe worry, "do you?"

"No- yah- I mean, I don't know," Dean shoves his hands into his jeans pocket, trying to warm them from the numb feeling that had quickly begun to grow. The fighting down below had stopped though the ambulance's sirens continues to blare and for a moment Dean let's that fill the silence as he tries to sort his thoughts. "I think I'd've liked to try harder at school, maybe got a degree in mechanics, something that'd make us money." He pauses, looking down to his shoes, it's easier than looking at Cas as he admits his defeats. "We could have a nicer apartment."

"I like our apartment," Cas replies.

"The neighbors suck," Dean says, "We've got the Joker and Harley Quinn on one side and a fuckin' hooker on the other."

"Meg is a respectable woman."

A smile tugs at Dean's lips. "Yah well most apartments have nice chicks."

"Dean," at the sudden softness in Cas's voice, Dean looks up, his eyes meeting the other's. Cas places his watering can down and steps forward. "Are you alright?"

"Yah." Cas gives the smallest tilt of his head, a crease forming between his eyebrows as his gaze darts down Dean. Dean pushes himself from the railing and raises his arm, lacing his fingers with Cas's. "Really, angel," Dean continues, pulling Cas into his arms, "I'm fine."

Cas wraps his arms around Dean's neck, resting his chin against Dean's shoulder. Even with the help of his jacket Cas feels frozen as Dean wraps his arms around the other's waist, Dean's fingers grazing the frozen skin from under Cas's t-shirt. "Dean," Cas says, his voice louder in the suddenly silent night. "You are allowed to talk to me."

"I'm just thinkin'" Dean replies. He holds Cas closer to his chest hoping that it will keep the other warm, and rests his chin against Cas's shoulder. "Worryin' about Jack, money, the future, that kind've crap," Dean says. "Things are just goin' to get more expensive."

"I understand your concerns," Cas replies. Dean tilts his head as the other talks, pressing a kiss to Cas's neck, followed by a second, the kiss so soft and gentle Dean's lips just ghost the frozen skin. "But Jack will be starting school soon and when that happens I'll discuss working more hours with Crowley. We will figure it out."

"I'm worried about you," Dean whispers, something which was only half true.

He was worried with every beat of his heart that he could never give Cas what he deserved. That one day Cas would realize he deserved better and walk out. Dean wasn't worried about Cas, Cas could handle himself, he was worried the day Cas would realize he was worth more.

Dean was worried that one day he would be left with nothing but a broken heart for memories, and the feeling of sorrow to wash it out.

"Dean," Cas whispers, "there's no reason to worry about me." Dean presses another kiss to Cas's neck and slowly let's his fingers travel down the other's back, tracing the curve of Cas's spine. "Please don't worry about me." The thought of arguing crosses Dean's mind but instead of trying he buries his nose into the crook of Cas's neck as Cas's grip around him tightens.

It was moments like this that left Dean holding Cas closer, clinging onto every second as if it would be his last with the other. When they were alone in the dark, only lit by the decks faded orange light, and the world around them had gone silent as if to give them one moment alone. It was simple moments like this that left Dean out of breath, and at a complete loss of words, unable to describe just how in love he was with Castiel Novak.

Slowly, humming softly, Dean removes one hand from Cas's back and laces the fingers of his right hand with Cas's left. "Here comes the sun," Dean begins barely above a whisper, swaying softly, an action Cas mimics.

"And I say," Dean sings softly, "it's alright."

"Little darling, it's been a long cold lonely winter," Dean continues, his voice hanging through the silent night, only broken by their footsteps as they move across the deck. "Little darling, it seems like years since it's been here." Cas's lips press lightly to Dean's neck and he replies by giving Cas's hand a gentle squeeze, it's all he can manage. Any words would ruin the moment, nothing he could say would be as gentle as them swaying, sharing one another's warmth as the wind continues to blow.

"Here comes the sun, do, do, do. Here comes the sun, and I say," Dean sings, "it's alright."

They continue to dance as the song goes on, footsteps heavy, and their swaying half a beat off. Cas's fingers are still frozen against his, and Dean's own arms had long ago become numb, and yet it's perfect.

Dean wouldn't trade it for a second of perfection. The breathless feeling leaving him light, his heart pounding constantly in his chest yet always one beat not enough. It's impossible to breathe properly when all his senses are heightened on one thing.

Cas.

By the time the song comes to an end and their slow dance has stopped, Cas's eyes were on Dean's, the normally vivid blue casted in shadows by the deck's light. Cas's hand moves from where it rests on Dean's shoulder and to his cheek, the contact so light Cas's fingers barely grazes Dean's skin. "I love you," Dean whispers, because he isn't good with words, he never has been, and that's the only thing he can think of that can even remotely describe how he feels.

"I love you too," Cas replies. He leans forwards pressing his lips to Dean's for a slow kiss that has Dean's heart somewhere between racing and stopping, tearing all the air from his lungs. When they pull away, their lips still grazing, there's only one thing Dean's sure of; he's going to marry the love of his life.

#Destiel #Destiel fanfic #destiel fic #Yesterday #Here comes the sun series #dean winchester #castiel #jack kline #domestic fluff

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geekthefreakout · 3 years

Text

In Which Castiel is Properly in Lebanon

Dean isn't sure what he's feeling at the moment. On the one hand, he's pissed- this pearl was supposed to get rid of Michael. Get rid of the pounding in his head, the danger in his bones. Let him rest. On the other hand- his dad is here again. In front of him, and with Mom and Sammy too. The tremble in John's voice when he'd asked "Mary?" after hearing her voice... Well, Dean has heard himself sound like that. In a dark street near a church, lit only by the neon lights of the cross on the church and Baby's headlights. Watching his parents come together, reuniting after so long... he can't deny that his heart feels full with the love between them. Sam feels the same way, he could tell, his big brown eyes damp and his mouth curling with a tremulous smile.

He hopes that John can find a way to fix Dean's head while he's here... and boy, won't that be a conversation to have. His stomach turns over as he watches John and Mary whisper presumably sweet words to each other. He can hear it now, John berating him for allowing Michael in in the first place. John talking about having to clean up Dean's messes-- and Dean supposes that was why the pearl had pulled John forward to this moment. Dad would yell and scold and send Dean away, he would take him to task and never let him forget what he'd done, but Dad would fix it. He'd fix it, and he'd be disappointed in Dean, but Michael would be gone and Mom and Dad would be together, and Sam would have both his parents for the first time in his life.

Of course, nothing is ever that simple.

The door to the bunker opens as Mary begins searching the kitchen for Winchester Surprise ingredients. John tears his eyes away from his wife at the sound, meeting Dean and Sam's eyes in turn as he reached for a gun.

Right. John wouldn't expect them to have anyone else in their lives. Sam and Dean had painted some broad strokes, with some input from Mary (the way John's eyes bulged when she described hunting had truly been something to see), but John had seemed more surprised at the idea of their extended hunter network than anything else. Their family, though Dean hadn't dared to call it that. Family was a holy word to John, something that meant Mom-Dean-Sam-Dad only.

"Dean? Sam? There have been temporal distortions radiating out from Lebanon, are you--" Cas stops halfway down the stairs, his eyes wide as he takes in John standing defensively between Sam and Dean. "Well. That explains some of it at least."

Dean is quick to get between Cas and his father. His heart is pounding in his throat suddenly. He can't bring himself to look either of them in the eye, and that doesn't make sense. It's not as though-- it's not as though he and Cas are together or anything. Or as though Cas knows how he feels. It's not like John will be able to just-- read his mind-- and know... but then, there were those nuns he had to burn, and he'd been convinced John didn't know then either and shit he's panicking he should say something he should--

"Who the hell is this?" John's voice is gruff, but not hostile, that's good. Dean forces himself to meet his father's eye.

"This is..."

"I am Castiel." Cas is suddenly much closer, having descended the stairs while Dean panicked. "You are John Winchester."

Dean doesn't even have to know that Cas is doing that thing where he tilts his head and squints and either looks like the cutest puppy or like he's going to cook you to death with his laser eyes, and he really cannot have a confrontation happen--

"Cas is our friend, Dad." Sammy, thank god for Sammy. "He's family."

Dean nods, and affirms: "He's family." He turns to Cas. "So, remember that pearl that was too good to be true?"

Cas sighs, and looks at Dean with fond exasperation.

"I remember telling you not to try it without me."

Dean shrugs half-heartedly. John clears his throat, his expression both stern and inquiring. That "report, soldier" look that had always prompted Dean to spill his guts without fail.

"We, uh, have more to explain." Dean slaps Cas on the shoulder. "Mom is cooking."

"Mary doesn't cook." Cas had not taken his eyes off of John, his stare intense. John was staring right back.

"This is the one thing she does. It's Winchester Surprise. You'll like it."

"You ain't human." John pronounces, and Dean winces, locking eyes with Sam. Sam clears his throat and approaches.

"He's an angel, dad. We told you."

"Didn't realize you were serious about keeping one around."

"I am not 'kept.'" Cas had his hackles up. Great.

"Alright, alright." Dean put his hands up. "Dad, we've got a lot more to tell you. But Cas is here because this is his home, same as it is ours. He's one of us." Dean forces his voice to firmness, goes for the same tone he used to use to defuse fights between Dad and Sammy. He gives Sam a look, and his brother sighs.

"Actually, Cas, can you help me translate this book? It has more information on the pearl and what's happening, and my eyes are gonna go cross if I read another word of Latin."

"I wouldn't allow that to happen." Cas says, but after one last intense look at Dean and John, he follows Sam. Dean lets his father follow him to the table and picks up where he left off.

"Right, so... Cas stuck around after we stopped the apocalypse. Things in heaven... well, it's messy, but the point is it's better for Cas to be on Earth with us. He's family, he... anyway, he's here. And I, uh, I told you how mom came back..."

"Because God's sister was feeling charitable." John's voice was flat, and Dean forces out a laugh.

"Well, when you put it like that... but that's what happened. You can't make that shit up."

"Well, I guess you can't." John allows, and his lips quirk up in a grin, which Dean returns. "So this pearl that brought me back... I'm not who you were expecting. I've heard about Sammy, and I've heard about your mother..." John shakes his head in disbelief. "What was the pearl actually supposed to be for, Dean? What's wrong with you?"

Dean winces, takes a breath.

"Okay, this is about to get even crazier." He watches John's eyebrows shoot up. "So, it turns out there are other universes. Like alternate timelines and stuff. And there can be... these rifts or tears that go to them. It takes a lot of power, but uh, one was opened by mistake. And the world it led to, it was one where we didn't exist, Sam and me. And the apocalypse happened. It was bad. Mom and our kid- our friend, Jack, they got stuck there for a while. And when we were saving them, we saved a whole bunch of hunters on that side too, let them in to our side." Dean paused to check that John was following. His father was working his jaw, which meant he was thinking, or angry. John nodded after a moment for Dean to keep going. "Anyway, the biggest bad over there was Michael the archangel. Their version. We thought we locked him out when we rescued everyone, but he and Lucifer broke through to our world. And Lucifer managed to really juice himself up, and then take Sammy and Jack. The only... Michael was hurt. He was too weak to take him on, and we just didn't have the firepower. So I thought... I asked him if he could do it, if he had his sword. His perfect vessel."

"You." John summed up. He was definitely glaring now. Dean looked down at his hands, picking at the loose skin at his thumb.

"Yeah. We had a deal, I thought. I was gonna be in control, and then he was gonna leave me. I thought maybe we could send him back to apocalypse world or something after. We-- me and Michael-- we killed Lucifer. But he didn't leave. He took me over and he did things... he's been organizing the monsters, setting up traps for hunters. Pumping them full of angel juice to make them less vulnerable to us-- we ran into a djinn that could full create things, man. Like, in real life. But Sam and Cas, they brought me back. I have Michael locked away, in here." Dean tapped his head. "And he's locked up tight, but I can't... I can't keep him locked away forever. He's pounding and pounding at my head, he won't let up, and so I can't let up. And I'm gonna break, Dad. I broke in hell and I'm gonna break this time, I know I am. I need help." Dean felt his voice crack and his eyes dampen, and he made himself look up at his father. "The pearl... I was supposed to be able to make a wish, and Michael would be gone. But you're here now. And I need you to help fix this, Dad. Please."

John's face is inscrutable. He doesn't reach out to touch Dean, to grasp his shoulder. Dean waits for him to speak like a man waiting for an axe to fall.

"It was a goddamn stupid thing to do, Dean. Let that thing inside you." John shakes his head. "Now your brother and mother are in danger as long as they're around you." Dean winces and John sighs. "So we're gonna have dinner-- I'm assuming you can make it through dinner-- and then you and me are gonna light out of here, and figure this out together. Let your mom and Sammy stay here, where Michael can't use them as leverage. Keep the angel away, we don't need any extra baggage. And we'll figure it out." John nods like he always did when he'd reached a decision. "I won't let you hurt them. Or anyone. I promise you, we will find a way to stop this Michael, Dean. And if not..."

Dean nodded shakily. "I have a plan. There's this box. To lock me away in, in case..."

John nods back at him, finally reaches out to pat his shoulder.

And Dean was relieved. John was gonna fix it. John would understand about the Malak box, if all else failed he would lock Dean away and let him sink to the bottom of the ocean, harmlessly alone. He wouldn't get distracted trying to save him, once it seemed impossible John would understand the sacrifice and...

"That box is not an option."

Dean's head shoots up. Cas is standing in the door, his hands fisted at his sides. Dean imagines that if he could see Cas' wings, they would be flared up at his sides.

"Cas--"

"I don't think that's any of your business." John said.

"It is my business. More so than it is yours." Cas was glaring fully at John right now. "Because you would have Dean away from his family."

"I am his family." John stood, angrily.

"You think you are. But a wise man said that family doesn't end in blood." Cas looks at Dean, piercing him with his gaze. "Nor does it start there."

"Cas." Dean's voice cracks. "Don't."

But John is already crossing the room, getting in Cas' face, fisting his hands in the trench coat, yelling about how Cas wasn't human and had no place in his family and Cas isn't budging an inch. He wouldn't. Dean could hear Sam running towards the room, could hear Mary shouting from the kitchen about what was wrong, but he couldn't breathe as he watched John deliver what would have been a devastating blow on to Cas' face, if Cas had been human.

But Castiel, as had been pointed out, is not human.

John shouts in pain and surprise instead as his hand breaks against Cas' cheek. Cas doesn't even turn his head like he did for Dean back in the beautiful room a full decade ago. John prepares another blow, but Cas effortlessly shoves him against the wall with one arm as Sam skids into view.

"This is what is going to happen." Cas says, his voice dripping with authority, and Dean distantly thinks that he would find that voice extremely interesting if he wasn't so busy trying to make himself breathe. "We are going to eat Mary's dish. You will enjoy the privilege of time with your wife and sons. And then we will crush that pearl and return you to 2003." Cas turns his head from John to face Dean. "I am sorry, Dean, but the temporal distortions will only grow. For now they are confined to Lebanon, but soon they will consume the world. Mary will disappear. People you've saved will die. You and Sam will lose your memories of this time and find yourselves on a different path, as you saw in town before. And I... Well, I don't know what will happen to me. But I do know I would rather die as I am, with you, than return to what I was before we met."

Dean swallows. "You sure?" He hears himself ask, as though from a long way away.

"Yeah, Dean. We've looked through everything." Sam affirms, then he puts a hand on Cas' arm. The two of them exchange a look, and Cas releases John. "I wish things could be different, Dad. But even if they were, you realize I couldn't just let you and Dean go off on your own? Neither would Mom."

"You're damn right about that." Mary was in the doorway now, observing. "You hit him, Cas?"

"He hit me. I chose not to allow it."

"Good for you." Mary says warmly. John looks at her in betrayal. "What? You're the one that lashed out." She takes John's broken hand in hers. "I know you're used to being the drill sargeant-- and I wish we had time to talk about that." Mary's voice is steely. "Because our sons should never have had to call you sir-- but this family stays together."

"I go, or you do?" John says at last, checking with Mary. Dean's chest is tight, and he barely registers Cas walking towards him. "You go back to being dead if I stay."

Mary's eyes are red and she nods, pressing close to John. John looks at Sam, who nods at him sadly. Then he turns his gaze back to Dean, and Dean nearly trembles, having the strength to stand still only because of Cas now standing at his side.

"Well," John rubs his broken hand. "That's no choice at all. Seems to me that all there is to do is... well." He wraps an arm around Mary. "I can't say I'm sorry for trying to think of ways to keep you safe. But if all we get is a little time, if all we get is dinner... let's have dinner. Winchester surprise. Let's just have this one night as a family."

Sam nods and gives a sad smile, and Mary hugs John before announcing that dinner would be served as soon as it finished cooling down. Cas puts a hand on Dean's shoulder, and Dean comes back to himself in a rush.

"I'll drink to that." He says.

As they all crowd into the kitchen, all conflict seemingly forgotten (never forgotten, pushed away, if you don't look at it it isn't there). John largely ignores Cas, but shares stories of Sam and Dean growing up that have nothing to do with hunting, things Dean had forgotten about, like the time Sammy learned how to escape his high chair and became almost impossible to hold down for meal time, or when Dean had put on a thanksgiving play using all of his and Sammy's toys when they'd had to miss the one at school. Mary talks about what they've gotten up to lately, how the music these days is nothing like it was. Cas mentions that Dean must agree, because the tape he gave him was all Zeppelin. Dean's heart freezes as his eyes meet his father's after that, but while there is a knowing look is John's eye, he shakes his head and moves on to the next tale-- this time about Dean refusing to let anyone else hold Sam when Sam was first born.

"'This is my baby,' he'd say. To everyone, even me. Even you." John looks at Mary, his eyes full of unfamiliar mirth. "Remember?"

"Mmhm. His Sammy. No one else's. You screamed the first time we tried to send you back to nursery school after Sammy came home from the hospital." Mary says to Dean. "Wanted him to come with you, or you weren't going."

Dean smiles.

At the end of the night, they still have to crush the pearl, send John back to 2003. It's one of the hardest things Dean has ever done. He hugs his father tight, pushing aside all the fear and the anger just to hold his dad again. Sam does too. They take a photo- John won't remember this as any more than a dream, but he wants his boys to have this time when they were a family. He even nods his thanks to Cas when he offers to take it. And then John is gone, and Mary is weeping quietly into Sam's shoulder. Sam gives Dean a look, and Dean knows they will be talking about the Malak box again. Cas sits up with Dean that night, and they say nothing at all.

"You know," Dean says eventually. "I think my dad liked you."

"Did he?" Cas sounds unimpressed. "I didn't like him."

"Cas."

"He would have found you entering the Malak box an acceptable sacrifice. Because of his own inadequacies as a father, you also find this acceptable. I cannot forgive that." Cas holds up his hand to forestall Dean's protest. "But I'm glad you got that dinner with him."

"Yeah. Me too."

END

#spn #sam writes stuff #dean winchester #castiel #sam winchester #sam drops an angst bomb #lebanon tag spn #spn fic

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s-horne · 4 years

Note

28 for superfamily!

“What in everything that is holy is that?”

Harley bumped into Peter’s back when he stopped dead on the lawn. “What?”

“That,” Peter said, pointing at the vehicle parked up on their drive. “Come on, Harl. Don’t tell me you can’t see that thing. Look at it! It’s the size of our old school bus. What the hell–”

“Language!”

Harley snorted at Peter’s eyeroll and turned to greet Steve as his Pops stepped out of the front door, Mary on his hip.

“Seriously, Pops,” Peter said, accepting Mary when she squealed and reached for him. “Where did Dad even find this? It’s huge.”

“That’s what your Pops said.” Tony followed Steve out onto the lawn, a wide grin on his face and a couple of cool bags in one hand, keys in the other. “And I don’t just mean the–”

“Nope,” Harley cut in, holding his hand up in anticipation. “You can stop that right now.”

Tony smirked as Steve just sighed, resigned and used to the antics of his family.

“Seriously, though,” Peter said, bouncing a little to keep Mary amused as she reached out for his hair. Her little fingers could hurt. “What’s with the coach?”

“It’s not a coach, you monster,” Tony said, smacking Peter on the back of the head as he walked past to load the bags into the trunk. “It’s a mini-van.”

“Not very mini,” Harley muttered, holding out a hand to tickle Mary when she lunged for him. The girls always wanted to be close to their brothers whenever they were home from college, and the boys were happy to oblige. “Could fit my college football team in there.”

Tony huffed, walking back over and taking his youngest daughter into his arms. “Ungrateful brats. Give me my angel. You won’t bully Daddy, will you?” Mary went to Tony happily, babbling as he repositioned her on his hip. “Right? My favourite–”

“Tony! Don’t finish that sentence! You’ll give them all a complex.”

Meeting Harley’s eyes, Tony winked. “Yes, darling,” he said to Steve, turning to head back into the house and fish out their last child. “Whatever you say, darling.”

Steve shook his head, albeit fondly, and was about to speak when a bundle of energy crashed into his legs. With an exaggerated groan, Steve stumbled forward a few paces, much to the delight of the girl attached to his leg. The air filled with loud giggles.

“Beach day, Pop!” Morgan cried, lifting her arms into the air. “Beach day!”

Bending down effortlessly, Peter swept in and swung her through the air. “Beach day, baby!” he said, tickling his sister’s stomach until she squealed. “You all packed and ready to go?”

“Took my colours,” Morgan said, wide smile ever prominent. Her curls had fallen loose from her ponytail already and were sticking to her forehead despite the number of clips trying to hold them back. “And my tutu.”

“Your tutu? Wow!” Harley commented, taking some foldable chairs from Steve and walking down to the van. “Gonna be the prettiest baby on the beach.”

“You’re all ready to go in the van then, aren’t you, babe? The stupidly big truck that could seat 700 people?”

Steve laughed at Peter’s words and Harley’s eyeroll. He stepped back to look at it when he’d deposited Morgan’s bag by her car-seat and tilted his head. “It is quite big, isn’t it?”

“Quite big?” Peter repeated incredulously. “It’s insane, isn’t it, Morg? Yes, it is. Yes, it is.”

Harley had always been the quieter of the two Stark-Rogers boys, from childhood right through to their college years, so it was no surprise that he was the one who shot Steve a sheepish and considering look.

“It is a little large, Pops.” His tone had an edge of apology to it and Steve chuckled at his gentleness. “Why did you need it this size? Got any other kids that you need seating for?”

“Yeah,” Peter chimed in, “I thought Mary was your mid-life crisis? You said no more kids after Morg and then, bam.”

Steve laughed again, reaching an arm out to pull Harley to his side and waving at Morgan when she shouted at her name. “Definitely no more kids,” he assured them all. “The four of you is enough – too much, one might say. Your dad just… well. I have no idea why, really. He went on and on for ages about making sure we had enough space for a family holiday.”

“Baby girls do have a lot of stuff,” Peter commented, dipping Morgan and pulling her back up before she hit the ground.

“And so do sweaty, teenage boys.” Tony reappeared on the lawn, Mary asleep on his shoulder with her face half-hidden in her teddy – Peter’s old one, to be precise. How she’d managed to fall asleep through the racquet her siblings had made was anybody’s guess. “I need a coach to fit all of your dirty laundry on whenever you decide to come home.”

“Oi!” Peter said through a laugh, bouncing Morgan on his hip again as a distraction when she tried to lunge to Tony. “But come on, Dad. What do you know about driving a vehicle this size? You’re meant to buy a sports car when you lose it, not a bloody–”

“You cheeky sod! You better not corrupt my angels on this damn holiday,” Tony grumbled, nodding at Morgan giggling into Peter’s chest. “They’ve been so sweet without you pair of goons here. And they have at least a few more years of thinking Daddy is amazing, so shut it.”

“‘Mazing!” Morgan cried, lifting her arms in the air and grinning, baby teeth fully on show. “Daddy, ‘mazing, Daddy!”

“Isn’t he just?” Steve cooed as he reached over and took her from Peter. “We love Daddy.”

Harley laughed as Peter rolled his eyes again. “It’s not that we don’t love Dad, but we also value our limbs.”

“Exactly,” Peter said. “I have a match when I got back to college in two weeks. Could do with all my bits and bobs still attached.”

“I’ll personally claw off your bits and bobs if you don’t shut it,” Tony growled, sticking his tongue out at Peter’s faux-shocked expression. “Go get your bags.”

“And you want your children to stay angels? Honestly, Dad. Bad influence.”

“I’m going to leave you here and you won’t come on the damn family holiday.”

Peter laughed as he bent to pick up his duffle. “Keep talking to me like that and I won’t want to come.”

“Oh, you two!” Steve shouted from the van, “shut up and get in the deathtrap.”

“Everyone,” Tony said loudly, one hand covering Mary’s ear as he did so and the other darting out to smack Steve on the arm. “Get in the damn van before I steal my favourite children and leave you all here.”

With one last wide grin to show he didn’t really mean any of it, Tony turned on his heel and headed for the mini-van.

Harley caught Peter’s eye and they both spluttered a laugh, looking back to watch Steve try to corral Morgan to sit in her seat on the van and be buckled in and Tony try to jump up the step with a sleeping baby in his arms.

“Not to be dramatic, but I think we’re all going to die.”

“Wouldn’t be a Stark-Rogers family holiday without that threat, though, would it?” Harley laughed, clapping Peter on the shoulder and lifting his own bag onto his shoulder. “Also, shotgun backseat.”

Peter’s outraged cry followed him all the way to the van.

(this list)

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babygirl06301 · 3 years

Text

1x22: Devil’s Trap Rating: ★★★★★

Look here for my explanations of these reviews.

Written by: Eric Kripke

Directed by: Kim Manners

Y’all, Alpha Dean showed up in this episode! Here I was thinking that this version of Dean didn’t show up until after John died, but I guess it just became permanent then because damn. Also, Bobby’s here, yay!

What I liked: All of it, dog. Can you believe this my first 5 out of 5 in the series? I’ll talk about Dean down below, but holy shit, Jensen? Alpha Dean wasn’t the only thing to come out in this episode; so did Jensen’s Oscar. Actually, fuck that, all the acting in this episode was so insane? Not the least of which is because Azazel!John is like Negan on crack. I’m just going to end up talking about the characters, so I’m moving on.

What I didn’t like: That Azazel hurt Dean’s feelings? That Dean has to be put through so much shit? That John couldn’t have been a better father before this episode basically sentenced him to death in 2x01? That Sam was forced to lose his chance at revenge because he didn’t want to break up his family? That this episode hurt me?

There’s nothing wrong with this episode, for real. I can’t think of anything at all.

Character work: Where do I begin this essay? Honestly, and this isn’t just me being biased, most of the development was Dean’s. This episode was very much about Dean being absolutely terrified to lose his father, his family. In the beginning, when he was interrogating Meg, the rage he had literally set me back because it was so present in every gesture Dean made and every word he spoke. It’s so fascinating that Dean both ran away from the fight and ran toward it during this episode. Dean wanted to get John back before facing Azazel, but he was ready to walk into Hell to get him. And the tortured expression he has when he’s talking about the lack of remorse he feels for killing a possessed human is such a harrowing foreshadow of what he’ll feel in S4.

I also loved the acknowledgement that Dean holds his family together because that role kind of gets passed to Sam by the later seasons, even though everyone still gathers around Dean. Maybe it’s just that Sam holds Dean together so Dean can hold everyone else together. That acknowledgement comes during an episode, too, where Sam is compared to John; this mention of Dean protecting his family shows a way in which he’s like Mary. Plus, on top of all that, his greatest fears are exposed by Azazel: that his family doesn’t need him as much as he needs them, that Dean will lose his family, despite all his efforts. The shit they did with Dean this episode is something else. Some of the best development I’ve seen come out of this show.

Favorite scene: I know this is kind of a cop out because the scene was, like, a full six minutes long, but the scene where Azazel is taunting the boys before he leaves John’s body is so good. Jeffrey’s acting is so captivating, plus the pain you see on Dean’s face coupled with the confliction on Sam’s when he’s trying to decide if he should kill John or not is next level. Also, the fear that Dean has when he thinks he’s going to die? Y’all, Dean rarely ever looks that scared after this point, so relishing it here is where it’s at.

Favorite moment: Weird, but when the Impala gets run off the road. It’s so impactful. I’ve seen my fair share of surprise crashes in TV shows, but after all the build up during this episode, the crash at the end was timed exactly right. It also scared the shit out of me, even though I knew it was coming.

Iconic quote: “You know, you fight and you fight for this family, but the truth is they don’t need you. Not like you need them. Sam—he’s clearly John’s favorite. Even when they fight, it’s more concern than he’s ever shown you.” That’s pain right there.

This is up there for one of the best SPN season finales. I’m hyped to continue because I’ve got a lot of stuff I’m gonna be looking out for after this episode. I know there are amazing things in the later seasons, but the story just doesn’t pop like it does in this episode.

If you want to read my season review, check it out on my blog.

#spn episode reviews #spn s1 reviews #supernatural #spn #dean winchester #sam winchester #john winchester #bobby singer #azazel #meg masters #jensen ackles #jeffrey dean morgan #spn s1 #spn s2 #spn s4

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monstersandmaw · 4 years

Text

Embers - Dragon Shifter Romance story, Part Four (sfw)

It’s Friday, so here's Chapter Four! Again, it's longer than I'd intended, but that's ok, right?

Last week we got to see a bit more of our prickly new horned friend and he mentioned that he might have a job for us...

One, Two, Three

“A job?” you asked, tilting your head with interest. His quick, golden eyes tracked the movement and the harsh line of his pale mouth softened a little more.

“Yes. My department at the University is holding…” he broke off and sighed. He took off his round glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m almost embarrassed to admit to you what the event is. It’s so… cliché…”

As your own mouth twisted into an amused grin at his obvious awkwardness, Mikaeïl looked up at you and rolled his eyes.

“I don’t even know what your department is,” you said. “I don’t know what you do at the University; you could be manager of the stationary supplies for all I know…”

He bristled visibly at that, and then caught himself before he could allow his pride to get the better of him. “I am a research professor in the Department of Criminology. I specialise in forensic anthropology, especially in cases which involve magic and, or, necromancy.”

Your eyes went wide. “Holy crap,” you breathed. “I barely even know what those even words mean…” You cleared your throat and ventured, “So… like… you study dead people and what happened to them?”

He shrugged and left the conservatory to go and rescue your brewing tea before it stewed and went bitter. Over his shoulder as he walked away, red hair swinging down his back, he said, “In a nutshell. I can tell you more about it if you’re really interested.”

“I’m always interested in stuff I know nothing about,” you admitted somewhat eagerly. “I’m the cat whose curiosity will get the better of me one day, I’m sure…”

In response, you heard a low, warm, rumbling chuckle from the other side of the kitchen. There was something about it that spoke of an altogether bigger creature than Mikaeïl was, and though you had your suspicions about him, you weren’t entirely sure what he was precisely. He hadn’t been exactly forthcoming when you’d had a go at guessing earlier, shutting your ‘tiefling’ line of questioning down immediately.

A few minutes later, he returned with a china mug of tea and gracefully set it on the table beside the sofa in the conservatory, but he didn’t take a seat beside you. He remained standing with his arms hugged defensively across his slim chest, hands cupping his sharp elbows. The white shirt and black waistcoat and trousers made him look harsh and almost unfriendly, but his eyes were gentle enough.

“Well,” he said, “The department is hosting a charity event in a few months, and we’re looking for someone to design some posters for it.”

“What’s the event?” you asked. “You’re going to have to tell me eventually if you want me to work up some sketches for you…”

“It’s a murder mystery evening,” he said flatly.

“People actually do those?” you asked. “And what’s wrong with -”

“It’s the criminology department,” he said slowly, somewhat patronisingly. “It’s…” he shuddered.

Instead of elaborating, he rolled his eyes again and crossed to the glass door of the conservatory, keeping his back to you as he stared out at the lawns of the gardens beyond.

“They do a charity event - usually for rich benefactors it has to be said - every year. This year they decided to host a murder mystery event set in a 1920s jazz club…” When you didn’t immediately respond, he glanced over his shoulder at you and your amused and intrigued expression must have caught him off guard because he added, “You actually think that sounds like fun, don’t you?”

You shrugged, a bit embarrassed for being enthusiastic about it when he clearly thought it was ridiculous. “You want me to come up with some sketches? I don’t have all that long before Celia finishes her lesson, but I could rough out at least a few ideas now, if you wanted.”

“What would you charge?” he asked. “I shouldn’t ask you to go ahead before I’ve cleared it with the administrative staff of the department…”

You waved your hand. “I’ll doodle a few ideas now anyway,” you said. “I’d like to.”

He fixed you with an odd look that might have hidden a good amount of bafflement at your offer, but he nodded. “If you’d like to, then I’d be most grateful.”

You grinned and sipped your tea. “Oh, that’s delicious,” you murmured, eyeing the steaming cup for a moment.

“I’m glad.”

So, while he fell still, gazing silently out at the gardens with a thousand-mile stare on his sharply-beautiful face, you roughed out a few ideas that involved variations on a knocked over martini glass and a few splotches of blood.

It was only when the patter of small boots across the kitchen floor, closely followed by the clop of hooves, drew your attention off the page that you realised how lost you’d become in the sketches. The only thing which had halfway drawn your attention away from the soft strokes of pencil on paper had been the delicious tea.

Celia flapped her dusky brown wings in excitement and you saw that she had her flute in one hand and a sheet of music in the other. “Look!” she half-screeched, wings flapping. Her whirlwind entry of excitement and enthusiasm made Mikaeïl jump which, in turn, made Frankie chuckle. “Listen! I learned a tune!”

“Already?” you asked, abandoning the sketch pad on the sofa beside you and turning your attention completely onto her. “You going to play it for me?”

She nodded and thrust the page at you so you could hold it up for her. Frankie gave you a thumbs up over her shoulder and she brought the flute to her lips and began to play. It was… pretty ropey, but then again she’d only been learning for an hour in total. She played ‘Mary Had a Little Lamb’ in a breathy, squeaky, faltering melody, and when she was done, she grinned at you in triumph.

“That’s amazing!” you said, and you meant it. “You’ve learned to read those notes and play them in that short time?”

She nodded. “It’s actually not that hard,” she said a little pompously.

“Well then, I take it you like your new teacher? You can tell your papa too when we get home.”

Her nod this time was vehement. “Frankie’s so cool,” she said and you grinned up at Frankie, whose cheeks had flushed an attractive pink.

The ovine satyr ran a hand through his woolly white blond curls and grinned. “She’s a natural, I’ve got to say,” he smiled.

“Looks like we’ll be coming back,” you said, turning to look at Mikaeïl. Your words died when you saw that he had stooped to pick up your sketch book and was holding it in his slender fingers as if it were some kind of holy relic, staring at your drawings. “Something wrong?” you asked.

He didn’t respond, and Frankie trotted over to him and dug him in the ribs. Mikaeïl’s lips peeled back into a tiny snarl, but Frankie just ignored him and looked at the page of the sketchbook and whistled. “Bloody -” he broke off, remembering that there was a child present, and finished with, “I mean… Holy smokes! You’re one talented artist!”

You kept your eyes on Mikaeïl and asked, “You like it?”

He swallowed thickly, his throat working visibly. When he met your eyes, his own were glassy and almost teary, which struck you as odd. “Yes,” he croaked, his voice rough and raw. “Very much. I’d like to hire you for this, if you want to do it.”

There was something going on beneath the surface here, you were sure of it, but you nodded slowly and agreed. “Talk to your department and let me know what the budget is. I’m not normally that expensive when I do freelance stuff anyway. Assuming the University will handle the printing costs…”

“I’d cover the difference myself anyway,” he murmured.

You shot another look at Frankie and he shrugged mutely, as nonplussed about the depth of Mikaeïl’s reaction as you were. Celia stood there, seeming a bit deflated now that the attention had moved away from her after her debut performance, so you cleared your throat and stood, finishing the last mouthful of tea and taking it over to the sink in the kitchen.

When you returned, Mikaeïl seemed to have recovered, and his usual frosty exterior had returned. “Your art style is perfect for this,” he said, handing you back your sketchbook. “I’ll be in touch.”

“Right,” you said, feeling distinctly off-balance from his strange reaction.

At a reprimanding glare from Frankie, Mikaeïl’s shoulders dropped a little and he chuckled. “May I assume you’ll be coming back next week with Celia?”

“Please?” Celia interrupted, her attention drawn by the mention of her name. “Can we?”

“You’ll have to tell your papa what you learned,” you smiled, “But I think he’ll be happy enough to let you continue your lessons with Frankie if you’re enjoying them.”

“Yes!” she hissed, pumping her fist and spreading her wings broad for a moment before tucking them in.

You had to smile, and it even drew a smirk from Mikaeïl. “Well,” you said, “I look forward to hearing from you then,” you said. “You’ve got my number after all…”

“That I have,” he said, and to your surprise, he walked past you and pulled a ragged paper napkin out of a kitchen drawer.

He held it between his finger and thumb with surprising gentleness, as though it were a lady’s favour and he a knight at a tournament, worried about smudging it. The thought immediately seemed preposterous to you and you snorted with laughter, hoping a second later that he didn’t take it the wrong way.

“Until next week,” he said, his baritone clipped and stiff, showing you out of the kitchen and escorting you to the front doors of his grand mansion.

As you and Celia headed back to your battered old car, you heard Mikaeïl give a soft ‘oof’ and a second later caught Frankie’s hissed, “You’re a fucking idiot, Kae, you know that?”

“Yes,” he said wearily. “I have been told as much once or twice in my lifetime,” came his rather melancholic response before you had closed the door and were concentrating on making sure Celia’s seatbelt was done up.

When you looked up to wave goodbye, you found that the front door had been closed and the house had fallen silent once again.

Part Five

—

I really hope you folks enjoyed this one! Don’t forget to let me know if you did enjoy it by leaving a like and/or reblogging it!

For all early releases, character art and bios, upcoming story info, and much, much more, join me over on Patreon!

You’ll have access to stories before anyone else, and you’ll get instant access Patreon-only content as well, including polls and an exclusive monthly story for those on the Pixies and Goblins tier or higher!

#exophilia #dragon shifter #dragon x reader #dragon shifter x reader #male dragon #monster boyfriend #embers

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blessedarethebinarybreakers · 4 years

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What is your thoughts on feelings? Like, my dad and I get into this argument a lot, its mainly that you shouldn't let feelings dictate your life and you should let God have full control over it because your heart is in nature sinful. I agree with him to a certain extent, it's just that we're human and we have feelings for a reason. Idk but I'd really like to know what you think!

I’m with you -- by all means, we shouldn’t let our feelings control us; we should be aware that our feelings can mislead us or cause us to act rashly or lash out at others. But they are also important parts of how God fashioned us. God didn’t fashion us to be, what? thoughtless or emotionless automatons! or puppets God controls!

God gifted us with free will because Xe longs for genuine, mutual relationship with us -- such a relationship cannot happen when one party controls the other. So God chooses to limit Hir power to let us choose our own path -- even while God continuously guides us towards the paths that will lead to our abundance.

And yeah, our feelings are influenced by sin, and by things like fear, and our limited perspective on any given situation. But they also help us recognize things we might not otherwise notice -- our needs and wants, what we are called to do and how we are called to grow... We are embodied, inspirited beings, and from the beginning God called that embodiment and that inspiritedness good (Genesis 1:31). So it’s good for us to learn how best to live as embodied spirits -- not to let our emotions control us, but to learn how to listen to them, what they can tell us about ourselves and our relationships with others and with God.

I want to share this quote with you, and recommend the book it’s from -- Learning to Walk in the Dark by Barbara Brown Taylor. It’s all about learning to faithfully embrace our emotions, from joy into pain, to listen to them and ask God to help us learn what all these many feelings can teach us. Here’s the quote:

“What if I could learn to trust my feelings, instead of asking to be delivered from them? What if I could follow one of my great fears all the way to the edge of the abyss, take a breath, and keep going? Isn’t there a better chance of being surprised by what happens next? …After years of being taught that the way to deal with painful emotions is to get rid of them, it can take a lot of reschooling to learn to sit with them instead, finding out from those who feel them what they have learned by sleeping in the wilderness that those who sleep in comfortable houses may never know.”

________

Jesus, who is one of the Three Persons of the Triune God, experienced feelings -- the full range of feelings, from happiness to grief, from exhaustion to anger! Examples:

Jesus feels “deeply troubled” or “disturbed” in John 13:21

Jesus feels compassion and tenderness over and over and over again -- towards people who are hungry, or oppressed, or asking for his help, or weeping, and more (e.g. Luke 7;13, Matthew 9:36 and 14:14 and 15:32 and 20:34...)

In Matthew 23:37 / Luke 13:34, Jesus seems to fill a mix of dismay/anger and tenderness, as he complains that Jerusalem has been the execution for many prophets and he wishes he could gather the people there “just as a mother hen gathers her chicks under her wings.”

Likewise in Luke 19:41, he weeps over the city.

Jesus gets pissed off at a fig tree and in the temple (Mark 11:12-25)

Jesus gets frustrated with his disciples for not getting what he’s trying to tell them (Matthew 16:8-12)

Jesus feels tired and thirsty (John 4:6)

Jesus is so full of grief at the death of his friend Lazarus and in viewing the grief of his friends Mary and Martha that he himself sobs and groans (often translated something about being “deeply troubled”) (John 11:33)

And let’s get some happiness in here! “At that very moment, Jesus overflowed with joy from the Holy Spirit and said, ‘I praise you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you’ve hidden these things from the wise and intelligent and shown them to babies. Indeed, Father, this brings you happiness’” (John 10:21). Jesus felt so much joy that he was overflowing with it!

Jesus also speaks of his joy in John 15:11 - “I have said these things to you so that my joy will be in you and your joy will be complete.”

And I do believe that Jesus often felt happiness, and took the time to enjoy food, and nature, and good company. He was visiting people’s homes for dinner like. all the time. And speaks so lovingly of “the flowers of the field” in their beautiful “clothing” (Matthew 6:28)

Jesus apparently was happy, and eating, and drinking, often enough that some accused him of being a drunkard! (Luke 7:34)

Jesus experiences deep fear and agony in the garden of Gethsemane, an emotion so deep that he sweats blood! (Bible passages)

And the ultimate: Jesus feels so much agony and betrayal and pain and humiliation on the cross that he feels abandoned by God, and cries out “My God, why have you forsaken me?” (Matthew 27:46)

If we believe that Jesus never sinned, and he felt the full range of emotion, then how can feelings be sinful? If we consider him a role model, can’t we learn from how he experienced and expressed feelings?

And God Themself is often moved to anger, to compassion, to grief, and more throughout the Bible. I invite you to pay attention to God’s feelings any time you read a bit of scripture -- you’ll notice a lot of them!

___________

Gonna link you to some other posts on my blog that go into this stuff in more detail -- and if you have more questions after checking some of those out feel free to ask!

Some posts about emotions from my FAQ and elsewhere...

Is it a sin to feel anger/hate? What do I do? Answer, Answer

See my #anger tag for more!

See also my #hard emotions tag

Also my #in the valley of the shadow tag

Here’s a nice post on “how to change your mood while honoring your feelings”

And a wonderful post on listening to feelings like anger and jealousy without letting them control you

Posts with examples of feelings in the Bible!...

Quote with examples of biblical figures experiencing difficult feelings.

Here’s a post with some examples of biblical figures calling out to God with deep emotion.

I recommend reading through the Book of Psalms for examples of faithful people feeling the whole range of feelings, from anger and loneliness and doubt to joy and connection and gratitude. Some of these feelings, like hate, shouldn’t be acted on, but the psalmist didn’t pretend they weren’t feeling that hate just because it’s “ugly” or dangerous -- they brought it to God instead.

A quote on Jesus’ suffering

You also might like my tag #the human Jesus

For the idea of God having full control over our lives + free will stuff...

I’ve got a video on the idea of God’s control and “let go, let God” type sentiments

A post on God self-limiting in order to enable our free will

A post on how God is not abusive, and thus will not force or control us

The rest of my #free will tag

#feelings #emotions #control #hard emotions tag #free will #Anonymous #the human jesus #jesus' emotions

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the-official-account · 3 years

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Uhhhh 2020 top 5 thing?

Rules: it’s time to love yourselves! choose your 5 (or so) favorite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought to the world in 2020. tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome works!

I got tagged by @crystalinastar and its too early for this but I hope! You gain some semblance of joy! From this!

Although I do do art, I actively try not to be proud of it—or care at all—so it won't stress me out. There is only writing on this list.

5. Caineve

Yes I'm counting my OC here but at the bottom cause idk if ze counts. But not just Caineve! The whole story I'm telling with him and my friends has been such a wild ride, with a surprising amount of deep and tender moments. I'll never get over it, I'll quite literally cherish this expirience, if not forever, for a very long time.

Here's a WILDLY out of context poem I wrote in character for him

6. Oh shit wait no

4. Lone Man And The Wolf

I'm not linking it because I don't want you to read it, but it was my first story on ao3 and published fanfic ever so it deserves a mention. I am fueled by the need to change as a writer so much you'll hardly be able to accredit this to me. It sucks. I'm very, very proud of myself for finishing it at all.

3. This chapter of the tma whumptober i didn't finish

I just think it's the best things I've written yet on several measures of "good". I like the technique I used. Comparing this to the previous as how I've improve since—WAIT SINCE JULY!?!? HOLY SHIT I KNEW I WAS A BABY WRITER BUT THIS HITS DIFFERENT—I do think that I could win a fistfight against Neil Gaiman. Not that I could write as good as him I just think he'd get very creative with his environment and I can keep up with that.

2. The sasha Georgie fic

This fic is the most personally cathartic thing I've ever published. I didn't get to tell the full scope of the story I wanted to tell in that universe, but I don't know if I was ready to do that. It was my second fic ever we don't talk about the 0th and I used it to express a very personal frustration. Fandom doesn't exist in a void, yk? As much as we can see good rep and bad rep, like...stories about who characters are or why they are that way are welcome. I'm just proud I could tell a story like some of my own without selling the expirience too short.

1. Oh god how do I choose

I genuinely don't think any of my work deserves this first spot. Not because I'm not proud of what I make, maybe because I'm scared next year I won't surpass what I put here, but truly because...I don't feel like I have some kind of magnum Opus.

If you care to hear my philosophy here it is: everything I am most excited about is a draft. You can read Molecules here, just like you can find a lot of stuff in my card. But that story isn't as strong as it can be. It needs to be melted down and repaired with a more central theme.

My poetry has improved IMMENSELY this year. I write better stuff significantly more often. I can write decent stuff almost on command, that's an accomplishment. But I have more study to do, and I want to find peers who hold the same values as me in poetry to grow alongside. People who are not tied to their current themes and styles but eager and willing to explore whatever they can. Maybe do some kind of...club? Ongoing workshop?

But regardless of the technical skill in my work (of which there's a notable amount but nothing grand) the subjects I write about are not who I want to be as a poet. I want to address the political and the human. I don't want to be a Keats or a Mary Oliver (though Ms.Mary thank you so fucking much for that book) I want to be angrier than them, because I live my life so, so angry. As much anger as there is joy. And I need to study both my forebearers in poetry and my forebearers in activism to reach my goal well.

My work as a supportive role in the writing of others has both affected me more, and resulted in more and better content than I could ever dream of making alone. I cannot rightfully claim that as my own accomplishment, but I do not want to say fufilling supportive roles is not an accomplishment or is a small one.

Many of my best stories sit semi-outlined in my notes because I am not ready to write them yet. I have more reading to do, I should learn the very first thing about script writing, and having a quiet space to write where I am not in pain after 30 minutes would help. A kid can dream.

I don't think that anyone can take pride in ideas. We all have ideas, and sure there are good and bad ones, but ideas take noether skill nor dedication. There's a reason damn good you can't copyright them. So although I think some of my concepts is gold in its ore, I have work to do because they can be mine.

I've drafted a few games and I simply do not think it gets cooler than that.

But if I did have to pick a few contenders it would be these:

The Highway Blond

Wrote this one for a school prompt in English class in an afternoon cause I forgot to do it. Then lots of edits later. I didn't follow the prompt at ALL but the teacher liked it so much I got a 100 and she made me read a different book than the class. Cheers to being a good two-shoes. Too bad she isn't my teacher anymore.

I like how this story has 3 "plots" doing on, in a loose sense of the word. Jess getting her gas, The mystery that is Angela, and the relationship the two have. Only one of those gets completely resolved, and for such a short story, leaving those questions somewhat open both help to portray Jesse's conviction to the goal she already set, and to give a sense of wonder at what the larger story world may be like. My intention sitting down to write that was to show a slice of life, a fantasy life im a fantasy world, sure, but just a small glimpse of something that is clearly just a beat in a bigger story, but that matters and is intresting despite that.

Also Jesse annoys me as a person.

I'm also quite proud if the unfinished guides I've written, this one on flash fiction, this on poetry, and this on general writing. I think they can grow inti a handbook one day, if I ever grow qualified to write one.

I would probably rather die than pick a favorite poem from this year. And I've written about 200 total and more than half is from 2020 alone. But here's one of the most important, both as a marker of skill and personal development

My Father Made Me An Antifascist

What if my secret is I will never be evil?

What if my father's serpent whispers

"Do not trust yourself to lead"

Might be ignored in trusting other people?

For all I have said to love me only if,

What if there is no other possibility for me?

I breathe and read history as pertains to revolution

What if I trusted my forefathers of belief?

I know there is poison in discipline of the self

under the shined leather boot another,

That the camaraderie between yourself and

The others holding up that foot of bigotry is false

But, and I whisper this where I should say it loud-

Let's say I don't know how to produce this, yes?-

What if I bit the foot that crushes me

And smile around with bloody teeth

What if I run wild through the common concepts of thought?

Escaped from oppression, I view the mountian and the void,

The sky and the ocean and love the freedom in contrast?

Then, father, could I trust myself to be loved unconditionally?

0. The conclusion

There you go. If for some fucking reason you're a maniac who read this long, like, wanna be friends? I don't know why u out up with this ramble but there's more of me if you want it!

This was mostly written as a reflection of myself for the future. Maybe I'll try and make this a yearly thing. Dunno. What I do know is that by the end of next year my writing will hav again dramatically improved. I'm looking forward to meeting who I am then. Hello future me! I doubt you have a podcast yet, but how's the recording stuff in general going? Haven't given up on that dream, I hope. Hope you're not dead and that nobody in the fam is dead either. That would suck. I hope you're read more fantasy novels cause lord knows I'm craving them. Also you ain't shit, Be humble. Unless you're in a bad place in which case you're the shit and I believe in you.

Bye now.

Oh also I tag @littlerobinsart @stygiomedusa @minamino @poppetseedbagel (if u don't wanna post it let's talk about it on discord for fun!)

(I also wanted to tag @radiosandrecordings because I think they're real neat and I would like to see this from them but it didn't show up in my og draft so here's an edit. Oopsie.)

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doctordisaster · 4 years

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Okay, so about the space movie: it is not good. I haven’t come out of a star war feeling this disappointed since the prequels. It’s worse than revenge of the sith. I think it must be better than phantom menace, but I’m not sure. That’s how bad it is: I’d need to rewatch the worst installment in the series to confidently rank the newest.

I’ve seen some people say they enjoyed it in the theater but liked it less the more they thought about it — which was more or less my experience with Solo. That was not my experience this time. I was numbed, bored, or annoyed for most of the movie’s runtime. There are a few good moments, but it is by and large just not fun to watch.

It also appears to have been plotted by an angry mob of reddit incels. Bad fan theories, unwanted redemption arcs, and pointless throwbacks rule the day. Assholes drove Kelly Marie Tran off of Twitter; JJ Abrams drove Kelly Marie Tran out of Star Wars. Every moment of character development from the previous film was actively and loudly reversed. As a matter of fact, every status quo change in this very film was reversed, usually within seconds of screen time. At every point at which the movie ought to have turned right, it turned left.

Below the cut I’m going to list things I liked and things I didn’t. Don’t read it if you want to be surprised by the movie's disappointments live in the theater.

Good things in space movie no. 9:

The little goblin who works on droids is cute

Lando’s scenes are all very nice

Chewie trying to hide in a crowd was funny

Wedge! I love Wedge!

I loved the design of Kylo Ren’s space office

The moment where literally every spaceship that has ever been in a star war shows up. Also the moment where literally every person who has ever played a Jedi speaks a line. These are each a nice gimmick, although I am not sure both should have been used, and certainly not that close together.

I like the moment where Poe and The Female Person Poe Put His Definitely Heterosexual Penis Into At Some Point In The Past have a whole conversation just with their facial expressions. It’s especially impressive because The Female Person Poe Put His Definitely Heterosexual Penis Into At Some Point In The Past is wearing a metal helmet that entirely conceals her face.

The scene where Finn and The Female Person Finn Is Going To Put His Definitely Heterosexual Penis Into At Some Point In The Future bond over the shared elements of their history was very nice.

The scene where force ghost Luke explains that he was wrong to isolate himself from the universe is nowhere near as good as any of Luke and Rey’s scenes in TLJ, but it’s definitely necessary considering how confused some fans seemed to be on this point.

Some of the banter between the main three is quite fun

The scene of young Leia and Luke doing Jedi stuff is lovely and I wanted more of it.

Bad things in movie 9 from outer space:

Everything about Palpatine. Bringing him back is stupid. His plan is stupid. His inexplicable motivations are stupid. The fact that he has apparently just been sitting on his ass for 40 years is really stupid. Not explaining how he survived being thrown down a bottomless pit, exploding, and then the station he was on also exploding is extremely stupid.

Speaking of stupid, Rey Palpatine is the single worst idea that has ever been in any of these films. One of the most obnoxious things about JJ Abrams “mystery boxes” is that the mystery he deems the holy grail of box mysteries and buries deep deep down at the bottom of the mystery box is consistently something obvious and bad and not even slightly clever. There were literally two dumb fan theories for Rey’s parentage — Kenobi and Palpatine — and Palpatine was the one that was dumber.

It’s worse than midiclorians, because now Palpy fucks. Palpy canonically fucks.

Gross.

The only potentially good thing about bringing back Palpy is getting to enjoy Ian McDiarmid’s gloriously campy performance again, but for some goddamn reason they trap him on an empty soundstage lit only by strobes, then color grade everything to pure gray so you can’t fucking see what’s going on.

I get that it’s supposed to be the heart of evil and darkness, but good production design can evoke that without making it impossible to see the actors and unpleasant to look at the frame

Speaking of which, how is this movie so ugly??? There are maybe three visually nice locations and everything else is just hideous. This is a complaint I’d never even consider leveling at a previous star war. Even the shittiest ones were beautiful to look at.

Every Star Destroyer has an onboard death star superlaser now. I started by booing, saw that the superlasers are just a metal cock and balls, and then laughed my ass off through the rest of the supposedly serious scene where it blows up a planet.

The way you kill a star destroyer now is you shoot it in its dick

The only people who will be pleased by this movie are Reylo shippers and that is a horrible thing to be true

The macguffin chase that constitutes the first two thirds of this movie is pointless and boring. I especially loved the multiple times when someone lost a macguffin only to go “oh I forgot I have a spare in the glovebox”

Can we even list all the times something supposedly momentous happened only to be reversed moments later?

chewie dies! wait it was somehow the wrong ship even though they were in the middle of a literal fucking desert and there was no other ship around

The Female Person Poe Put His Definitely Heterosexual Penis Into At Some Point In The Past just got obliterated along with her entire planet by a different penis, this one attached to a star destroyer! oh wait she didn’t. no explanation she just didn’t die.

also the droid gremlin is with her

hux turned spy for the resist— oh wait he’s dead

Rey killed Kylo! But she feels bad so she heals him back

Palpatine just killed Kylo! Oh wait he didn’t. No explanation he just didn’t die, because JJ needed him to immediately reverse another supposedly momentous death.

Kylo smashed the macguffin! we’re doomed oh wait glovebox

Palpatine just electrocuted the entire rebel fleet to death! oh they got better

There’s absolutely no way to get across these waves! Oh wait Rey just... went across them

Well maybe it’s because she has the force and was able to oh wait Finn just went across them too

Well maybe that’s because The Female Person Finn Is Going To Put His Definitely Heterosexual Penis Into At Some Point In The Future is such an expert at navigating the oh wait Kylo is there as well

If only this movie took place in a universe with vehicles that do not touch the ground, we could have skipped this entire stupid subplot

3po makes a massive sacrifice by allowing his memory to be wiped! oh wait he had a backup

I also hate that 3po’s memory wipe is treated, before it happens, with pathos and gravitas, and then the moment he actually loses everything about his life and all his friends, it’s IMMEDIATELY treated as a joke

I love the way Rey is briefly dead but then Kylo goes “oh no!” and uses the last of his life force to bring her back. I wanted her to go “oh no!” and then use the last of her life force to bring him back. And then he’d go “oh no!” and use the last of his life force to

When the emperor dies, they show a montage of star destroyers blowing up elsewhere in the galaxy. Including one over endor? Why did they have a star destroyer over endor. How did the ewoks blow it up? Did they tie a log to one of the other moons and another log to another other moon and then cut the vines and the logs went smoosh

At the start of the movie Palpy promises Kylo his throne and limitless power in exchange for the one thing he wants most desperately in the world, which is for Rey to be dead. Then Rey shows up and Palpy goes “ah good you are here, I need you to kill me so my spirit can transfer to you” as though these demands aren’t utterly contradictory on every level. Then when she refuses he’s like “oh well, I suppose I can suck your and Kylo’s life forces out and rejuvenate myself to rule anew” as though that isn’t vastly preferable to plans A and B from his perspective

why is he in this movie

Having the knights of ren in this movie really justifies Rian Johnson’s choice not to have them in TLJ.

Every time the knights of ren appear, the timpanist bangs out the music cue for the sand people, so I think John Williams just decided that they ARE sand people in different hats.

Remember the eerie moment in TLJ where Rey and Kylo were connected across a vast distance through the force and Rey was in a monsoon and when the connection closed Kylo found some raindrops on his glove? Remember when Luke used a similar ability, without any physical transference, and the strain was so great that it ended his life? Now do you remember when TROS turned that into a totally mundane effortless 3d fax machine so they could pass necklaces and macguffins and lightsabers back and forth constantly, and even have whole physically real saber duels even though the script was too lazy to put them in the same place? Hey that fucking sucked

Remember Rose Tico? JJ doesn’t

The scene of Poe “micro-jumping” the Falcon is awful on so many levels. First of all, it’s just a one-off joke from Guardians of the Galaxy, but played straight for some reason. Second, changing the setting of the chase every few seconds makes the action just as numbing and impossible to follow as Michael Bay’s worst. Third, it makes no sense that the TIEs are following them through the microjumps, and the fact that they can do so makes the microjumps completely pointless. Why are you even microjumping if they can just follow you? Then the characters spend several scenes going on and on about what a big deal microjumps are, only for no one to ever do it or refer to it again.

Rey asks “what was snoke’s deal,” as though reading off a card with questions from our most obnoxious audience members, and Palpy goes “Snoke was my creation” which makes sense, like he trained the guy and equipped him and pulled his strings from the shadows and no, wait, the camera is panning over to a literal Jar O’ Snokes that Palpy just has handy in his empty strobelit soundstage.

I wish the camera had kept panning to show a Jar O’ Phasmas and a Jar O’ Huxes and maybe a Jar O’ Unkar Plutts so that all the characters from TFA could have an Offically Explained Back Story

If he put all the jars in another jar he could have a Jar Jar and the circle would be complete

I liked the part where they were having a lightsaber duel on a pier and the swings got slower and slower and finally they stopped and just kind of stared at each other like “wtf is even the point of this” because that was exactly how I felt at that moment.

tbh that was exactly how I felt for most of the movie

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evanthenerd83 · 4 years

Text

We’re In The Pits

Excerpts from the diary of Elizabeth Mary Strode.

4/23

Dad wants me to help him. Again. Seriously, why can’t he just ask Lex? He’s all for gross stuff. And he wouldn’t make a big deal about… nevermind.

He’d probably be too into it. I don’t want to imagine the look on his face when he inevitably jumps into the Pit.

Ugh.

Speaking of UGH, I’m not going to wear my dress again.

If it gets even dirtier, I'll look like a bottle of ketchup.

4/24

Dad’s gone out. He said that he had to go and see “what food is on the menu.” I almost threw up in my mouth. He actually used those exact words.

I wonder if he’s been institutionalized. It wouldn’t surprise me. I’ve seen him looking out the window, through the blinds. He was scanning the street for… something. Someone. I don’t know.

When I asked him what he was doing, he jumped and yelled at me for a whole afternoon. My ears wouldn’t stop ringing.

Eh. Forget it.

4/26

Dad still hasn’t chosen. He says that nobody is “worthy enough” to be offered. I think he just has too high of standards.

I could think of hundreds of people who deserve to be offered. Our neighbors, for instance.

They won’t keep their dog on a leash. It just pees and poops everywhere.

Or Mr. Lucas. He gave me a bad grade in Psychology last week, and he wouldn’t change it, no matter how much I tried to persuade him to.

Or Dad.

4/29

The stink is getting worse. I can’t stand it. It reeks of the bodies and blood and saliva, and it sticks to everything.

I can taste it when I breathe. It’s in the air. And my skin is probably soaking it in, like grease in a hamburger bun. Jesus. I have to take a shower.

But that can wait. Dad’s in a bad mood. I can hear him stomping around downstairs. He’s also cussing and yelling and, yep, throwing stuff. There goes another plate!

He’s angry. But I can’t blame him.

Dinner is overdue.

4/31

Thank God!

Dad’s found dinner.

He was walking around a parking lot in town, don’t know which one, when Father O’Brian came up to him. He asked if Dad needed any help. If there was anything that he could do.

Dad practically hugged him. He told him to come over, begged actually. He used the oldest trick in the Strode Family Playbook:

He cried.

Imagine, dear diary. A grown man crying and pleading for someone to protect his family. I can. And I can’t stop laughing.

Not because it’s pathetic. No. Nothing’s wrong with a man expressing his feelings.

Because Dad’s bald.

Unfortunately, the pastor is coming tonight. Right away, in fact. He needs to get his equipment first though. You know. The usual. A holy bible. A bottle of holy water. A crucifix. Exorcism stuff.

Mom was PISSED when she heard that. She made him wipe down the coffee table. And we never wipe down the coffee table.

The worse part?

I’m gonna have to wear my dress.

4/32

Dad was wrong.

So wrong.

Apparently, the Pit doesn’t like the taste of holy men.

As soon as Father O’Brian came inside, it went crazy. It started screaming and screaming. It was loud.

Very loud.

The pastor realized what we were doing. Which was pretty obvious. We had moved the rug to let the Pit breathe. He saw its mouth.

He took out his crucifix, and the thing screamed. He shouted something in what might have been Latin. It screamed even louder than before.

I ran upstairs, locked my bedroom door, and jumped into bed. No use in sticking to the plan.

I managed to sneak a peek, though. Looked over my shoulder and saw Dad rushing towards O’Brian. Mom was holding a plate of cookies.

Good ol’ Mom. Always cooking snacks.

It took an hour. An hour of screaming. Struggling. Words being spoken in dead languages, deader languages. But finally, someone broke something, and everything went quiet.

Not really. There was still shrieking. But it wasn’t the pastor. I think Mom had smashed a plate over his head.

I’m not sure.

I’m not sure about a lot of things, but I don’t really care. I’m just trying to hold my breath.

The Pit has thrown up. Again.

Want More: https://evanthenerd83.tumblr.com/post/190142568121/2020-story-index

#evanthenerd83's storytime #horror comedy #microfiction #creepy stories #creative writing #original writing #june 2020

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metaphorical-love-for-a-car · 5 years

Text

Hell to the No-- Ben Hardy x Reader (ft. Joe Mazzello.. like, a lot)

Prompt; none this time!

Warnings; slight language, specified fem! reader

Word Count; 2k

Notes; I wrote this instead of writing the essays that are due tomorrow, so I hope y’all enjoy lol ALSO IF YA WANNA BE ON THE TAG LIST FOR FICS LEMME KNOW!!

Growing up with Joe Mazzello was... interesting, to say the least. He was the typical older brother. The two of you would constantly bicker over the simplest things, and then you two would be up to mischief together before the day was over. There was incessant teasing between the two of you. Joe was the constant ball of energy around your home, and you always struggled to keep up with him. And yes, he was constantly screaming.

When you were young, you thought he was the coolest person-- albeit you would never admit that. He achieved the childhood dream of being famous. You were always his biggest fan. If he needed help preparing for an audition, you’d give him your full attention. You always had his back, and you knew that he always had yours.

In a way, you made your own name for yourself. You were a photographer, a quite good one at that. You were hired by many companies for high-end photo shoots. As you started to rise through the rankings, Joe helped you out a little. He would try to convince the management to hire you for whatever film or show he was working on’s promotional photographs. Sometimes it would work, and you were always grateful for his support.

“Joey, please, you don’t have to keep doing this.” He had somehow managed to get you hired on the set of The Pacific. Joe just scoffed at your remark, looping an arm around your shoulders.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

After that, it became pretty common for you two to work together. If you hired one Mazzello, then you might as well hire the other because you’d never hear the end of it if you didn’t. Luckily for you, the same applied to Bohemian Rhapsody. You were beyond ecstatic when you got the news. The first thing you did was call Joe, practically screaming in his ear.

You were on set, discussing some photo arrangements when you heard a familiar voice call out, “Aw, there’s my little mozzarella stick!”

“Shut it, Francis,” you quipped before apologizing to the person you were originally talking to. You spun on your heel and immediately burst out laughing. It wasn’t the first time you had seen Joe’s curly wig, but it seemed to get bigger every time you caught a glimpse of him. He was walking with three other men. You had already met Rami, as he had been friends with Joe for quite some time. The other two were unknown to you. Sure, you could remember their names, but you had yet to formally introduce yourself to them.

“Francis?” The Brian May clone looked at you curiously. Your grin widened.

“Joey’s middle name. Isn’t it adorable?” you cooed.

“Oh, mate, that’s fantastic.” The blonde clapped Joe’s shoulder before sticking out his hand in your direction. “I’m Ben.”

“Nice to meet you, Ben. I’m (Y/N).” Realization flooded his features. He flashed you a bright smile.

“It’s about bloody time we’ve met. Joe’s talked about you nonstop!” You raised a brow at Joe, playfully jabbing his side.

“Has he? All good things, I hope.”

“Of course,” Joe scoffed.

“Perfect, now I can tell you all his embarrassing secrets” Joe gave a dramatic gasp before moving to stand toe to toe with you. You narrowed your eyes at him, and he returned the gesture.

“You make me vomit,” he growled.

“And you’re the scum between my toes,” you said between gritted teeth. The Little Rascals was a movie that the two of you shared a love for. You were constantly quoting it.

After a few more moments of an intense staring contest, Rami finally stepped in between the two of you, knowing full well that the two of you would’ve gone on for forever. “They said something about doing a quick photo shoot?” Your attention snapped Rami.

“Oh, yeah! Ready to get your model on, Ahkmenrah?”

“Of course, darling! I was born ready.” You laughed at his Freddie impression before rounding the boys up, giving them directions on where to stand.

You were sitting off to the side, watching them film, when you felt someone tap your shoulder. You glanced up to see Ben. “Mind if I join you?” You shook your head, scooting over so he would have plenty of room on the small bench. The two of you watched one of the directors animatedly talk to Rami. “Hey, could I take a look at some of the pictures you took?”

“Yeah, sure!” You picked up your work bag, which held so much stuff that it would put Mary Poppins to shame. You shuffled through your belongings before finally pulling out your laptop. You had already transferred over some of the pictures, and they just needed to be edited before they would be released. “They’re not quite done yet. I’ve still got to do some touch-ups on a couple of them.” You handed the laptop to Ben and watched his expressions as he scrolled through the pictures.

“Holy shit. You’re really good, you know that?” You snorted, rubbing your face in an attempt to hide the blush you were sure was already spreading.

“Thanks, it took a lot of practice.” Ben handed back your laptop when someone called his name, motioning him over. A small grin graced your lips when you realized there was something new on your screen. When you looked away, Ben had opened up a blank document and typed down his number. Chewing on your lip, you made a mental note to shoot him a text some time.

It took you a little while to finally build up the confidence to text Ben. The two of you continued to talk even after your work with Bohemian Rhapsody finished. You knew that you were rapidly developing a crush on him. Not only was he good looking and an amazing actor, but he was also the sweetest person. Ben made you smile every time the two of you talked. And, God, that accent just made your knees go weak.

You groaned when your phone started ringing. It was just barely after seven in the morning, on a Saturday no less. You reached across the nightstand to pull your phone from the charger. You sat up and narrowed your eyes at the blinding screen. Ben was calling. “Hello?” Your voice sounded more groggy than you would’ve liked.

“Sorry, love, did I wake you?” He gave a nervous laugh. “Sometimes I forget about the time differences.” You smiled, peeling yourself away from the bed.

“No, no, it’s fine. I probably needed to get up soon anyway,” you hummed. You were about to fix yourself a cup of coffee when you heard Ben mumble something then clear his throat. “You okay?”

“I’m fine!” he assured. “I was just wondering... the Oscars are coming up, and I thought I’d ask if you wanted to be my plus one?” You froze before slowly setting down your mug.

“Like, as a date or...” you trailed off, chewing your lip nervously.

“That’s what I had in mind, yeah.” A wide smile spread across your face.

“I’d love to.” You felt like a lovesick yearling. You practically screeched with excitement when you ended the phone call.

A couple of days had passed when Joe called-- in the middle of the night. You weren’t too surprised to see his name displayed across your phone. He was always calling at odd hours. “Joseph Francis Mazzello the third, to what do I owe the pleasure of your call?”

“I’ve got an offer you simply cannot refuse! You. Me. The Oscars. Boom! You’re my plus one.” You laughed.

“Sorry, Joey. I’ve got prior commitments.”

“What? Don’t tell me you’ll be working! It’ll be way more fun hanging out with me than taking candids of countless celebrities.”

“No, I’m not working. I’ve actually got a date.”

“What’s his name, address, and social security number?”

“Joe. You know better than this. I’m not giving you any information because you’ll just scare him away. Remember Andi Gilmore, who you scared so bad that his parents started homeschooling him?”

“Hey! That wasn’t my fault,” Joe grumbled.

“Whatever you say, bro, but if memory serves correctly, you went all Pat Murray on him.”

“Your memory clearly does not serve correctly.”

You spent the next couple of weeks in a mad dash, trying to find the perfect dress to wear. It needed to be something good because there would be no shortage of pictures and videos by the end of the night. Thankfully, you were able to find one that was just right for the occasion.

Ben stood on your doorstep, nervously shifting his weight. He had been smitten since he first introduced himself to you. He hadn’t been able to get you out of his mind since you left the Bohemian Rhapsody set. Sure, the two of you talked nearly every day, but it wasn’t the same as having you beside him. When you opened the door, it felt like all the air had been pulled from his lungs. A loving smile spread across his face. “Wow. You’re beautiful.” Your cheeks pinkened.

“Thanks, you don’t look too bad yourself.” He took your hand and pressed a kiss to your knuckles. Your face turned to a darker shade of red.

“Must be the luckiest man in the world if I got you to agree to go on a date with me. Shall we?” He motioned towards the car that was parked on the curb.

Joe kept his eyes peeled for his friends. He had found Gwilym already, but he had yet to find Ben. He was watching every car to see if the blond beauty would step out. Joe’s brows furrowed when he saw you getting out of a car. He could’ve sworn you told him you were going on a date, and he was even more confused when Ben got out of the same car. Realization hit him like a pile of bricks when Joe saw Ben put an arm around your waist. “Oh, you have got to be kidding me! Him? Seriously? I thought you had higher standards, (Y/N),” Joe shouted. You rolled your eyes at him.

“Calm down, Francis. We’re going on a date, not to a drive-thru wedding in Vegas.”

You were finally able to cross ‘attending The Oscars’ off your bucket list. It was an amazing experience, and you were so proud of everyone who worked on Bohemian Rhapsody. The movie racked up the most awards of the night, a grand total of four Oscars. You couldn’t tell who cheered louder for Rami-- you, Joe, or Lucy. When all the festivities ended and everyone started to leave, you turned to Joe and Ben. “You know what I really want right now? A jumbo-sized slushie from 7/11.” Joe’s eyes widened as he loudly exclaimed his agreement.

The three of you went to the closest 7/11. Joe wandered around the small store while you and Ben went straight to the slushie machine. You danced in place, pouring as much of the different colored liquids you could into the large cup. “How do you think that’s going to taste once they all mix together?” Ben questioned with a raised eyebrow. You shrugged, and he stuck a finger in your cup. He scooped up a glob and ate it, humming. “Not too bad.”

“Rude!” you gasped. “Shouldn’t you know better than to stick your fingers in other people’s food? I thought you were supposed to be a British Gentleman.” You wagged a finger at him, walking towards the check out counter. You felt a pair of arms wrap around your waist.

“I’m not always a perfect gentleman,” Ben flirted. You opened your mouth to reply but was interrupted by Joe’s fake, exaggerated gagging.

“Oh, hell no. You two are so disgusting. I’ve been third-wheeling all night.” You cast him a glance, only to see that he was recording a video.

“Aw, don’t worry, Joey! You’ve still got Cardy B!” you cooed, a smirk crossing your lips. Ben snorted, and Joe replied with a smartass comment, but that got cropped out of the video.

Tag list;

@mothermercuryy

#ben hardy #ben hardy x reader #bohemian rhapsody #bohemian rapsody movie #bohemian rhapsody x reader #queen x reader #ben hardy imagine

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taylorroger-s · 6 years

Text

ten things [2] // borhap!roger taylor x reader

a/n umm?? holy fuck the first one got way more love than i expected it to. thank you for all the kind words, it’s really motivating. this one is pretty fluffy, but no romance just yet ;) if y’all wanna request stuff (headcanons, one shots, and the like) you need only ask. just, no lemons. i trust y’all know what that means.

oh, and if any of you want to be added to the taglist, you need only ask

enjoy :)

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and the way you cut your hair

“i swear meddows, you need a haircut.” you shook your head at the drummer, flopping back on the low couch after hours of listening to the boys record. it had been three weeks since freddie's party, and you had been spending more and more time with the band.

john was highly witty, played guitar in addition to bass, and was always doing a little dance while he played his instrument. he loved throwing peanuts in brian's wild mane, especially since he could barely feel them. you two would laugh while brian struggled to find out why you kept on avoiding eye contact with him and giggling like maniacs.

brian, in your opinion, was a total genius in both guitar and astrophysics. while it wasn't his turn to play, he would answer all of your questions about the cosmos, almost always launching into some in depth tangent about how stars are formed or a similar topic. you learned more from him in a few weeks than what you'd studied during all of primary school. it was truly satisfying to see someone who found their calling in life.

freddie of course was completely indescribable. he had a strong sense of self and wouldn't let any naysayers compromise his confidence or attack the band. you often said he had the voice of an angel who learned to walk on earth. you were enamored by his groundbreaking ideas that only made the band more recognizable. it was clear to see why mary loved him.

roger turned out to be less of a wanker than you assumed. you both had a chuckle once you realized that he too studied biology at east london polytechnic. he wouldn't let anyone fiddle with his drum set, nor did he let anyone drive his car. his ability to hit ridiculously high notes while still drums perfectly was considerably impressive. he always knew what to say to induce the most laughter, leaving the whole gang in stitches once everyone started cracking jokes at each other. once you found out his middle name was “meddows”, that was your permanent nickname for him. but that didn’t mean you didn’t hate him.

that day was just like any other. brian spun idly in his chair, curly head of hair bouncing with the beat of deaky's newest bass riff. freddie was fast asleep on the couch, head resting in mary’s lap. you were next to her listening to deaky play, flipping through a thick novel you had borrowed from brian on how moons are formed.

the air smelled faintly of cigarettes and cheap perfume, thanks to roger smoking with his arm around another lanky woman. she had his blond locks wrapped around her finger, other hand resting on his knee. it seemed like he had a different girl by his side each time you saw him. in the back of your mind, you couldn't help but wonder why he never stuck to just one.

mary was fast asleep at your side, head cradled in your lap. she looked so peaceful, letting out little puffs of air in a steady rhythm. they had been working late into the night, you and mary there to keep them company like usual. truthfully, you all did more goofing off then recording. whenever someone was behind the glass, the ones waiting would make ridiculous faces in hopes they would crack and have to restart the recording.

but the long day had taken a toll. freddie had gone with miami to pick the gang up some food, drastically lowering the energy that shook through the room in his presence. without his vibrant spirit, the world felt like it was moving slowly through molasses. after meeting him, your world would never be the same.

the comfortably silent atmosphere was broken by an abrupt ringing coming from a phone mounted in the wall. you all glanced up in unison, brian about to pick up the receiver before roger’s current plaything hopped to her feet and held out a hand to stop him.

“i’ll get it!” she announced, nearly skipping her way to the far wall. Brian slowly sat back down, glancing over to you with a quizzical look in his eyes. You shrugged back, yet you kept a keen eye on her back, suspicious as to why she rushed to pick up the call. she must have expected it, and told whoever was on the other line to call her at the studio. strange. you didn’t think much more of it, just wanting to return to your book and be a pillow for your dearest older sister.

but the latter ended due to your sister being a painfully light sleeper. her face contorted as she tried to go back to sleep, but the groupie’s incessant chatter made sure that did not happen. deaky and roger seemed to be the only ones without a significant reaction to the girl. roger readjusted in his seat, taking another long drag from his cigarette.

mary soon sat up, stretching arms high with a deep sigh escaping her lips. a patterned quilt was thrown across her shoulders, brought by you from home in anticipation of situations like that. “‘morning m, slept well?” she stuck her tongue out at you and leaned back on to your lap.

“could have used a little more. how do these boys manage to live with little sleep and still manage to play like that?” you couldn’t help but giggle at the dazed look on her face, blonde hair tangled on one side of her head. after planting a quick kiss on her forehead, you opened your book and flipped to where you had left off. A beat passed before roger’s plaything hung up the phone, striding over to him with her hip swaying gently. she slid onto his lap, interrupting his subconscious air drumming along with deaky’s riff. he shifted uncomfortably from the sudden intrusion, but didn’t hesitate to wrap his arm around her waist and whisper playfully in her ear. she giggled lightly and pressed her lips to his, before pushing herself back off the chair and brushing off her skirt.

“i’m gonna head, catch ya later rog.” she announced, throwing a wink in the drummer’s direction. he gave her one back, baby blue eyes following her until the door to the recording studio swung shut. mary’s sleepy gaze switched between roger and the door, brows furrowed slightly.

“who was that? christ, how long have i been asleep?” she shifted and curled up against your side, chin resting in the crook of your elbow. her eyes struggled to stay open as she waited for an answer, goofy smile fixed on her lips.

“that is meddow’s newest plaything, no clue her name. it’s been an hour. give or take.” mary groaned and placed her head back in your lap. “why do girls fawn over him constantly,” mary mumbled into a blanket, trying in vain to fall back asleep. roger raised his eyebrow at the two of you, cigarette barely an inch from burning all up. he took another puff, blowing the light gray smoke out through his nose before reaching over and sticking it in the ashtray. brian and deaky had wandered into the recording space, experimenting with ways they could change the sounds of their instruments. muffled laughter could be heard through the thick soundproofing, only sound besides mary’s even breaths since she had fallen back asleep, and the infrequent turn of a page from you.

“it’s totally the hair.” the sound of his voice startled you, still laced with a cocksure tone. he grinned at your bewildered expression, still surprised that he decided to answer you. That soon wore off and you rolled your eyes.

“definitely not. it’s so long. and shaggy. And always so messy.” roger laughed, getting up to sit next to you and mary on the couch. he smelled of cigarette smoke mixed with a lemony sort of cologne. or was it shampoo?

why am i thinking about how he smells? freaking new-girl-every-night meddows.

“pfft yeah right, y/n. you’re just jealous because my hair is prettier than yours.” he flipped his blond locks over his shoulder, grinning at you with a sideways smile. you narrowed your eyes at him, turning back to you.

“in your dreams .” you muttered absentmindedly, one hand brushing the hair covering the face of your sister. a small sneeze came from her sleeping form, not disturbing her slumber in the slightest. you loved your sister more than anything in the world, she had been there for you through thick and thin. from learning to ride the underground to rushing university applications, she had been by your side every step of the way. at that moment, you were sure you would never love anyone as much as you loved her, and that no one would love you as much as she did.

the band did make you feel a great deal more loved than you had with just mary by your side, even after just a few weeks. vivacious freddie always had a kind word or sincere encouragement to give. sweet deaky had biting sarcasm and self deprecating humor that never failed to cheer you up. brian would listen to your rants for hours, and you two would argue over the validity of astrology between songs.

as for meddows, you hated him. you hated his cocky demeanor, promiscuous rockstar attitude, and nonchalant ignorance. he had no sense of commitment, the only people who he was loyal to being the band and no one else. all he did was break hearts and chain smoke. you could not imagine a redeeming trait existing under all that muck.

“it adds to the vibe. i like it long.” he lit his second cigarette, blowing a small puff of tobacco smoke in your face. you scrunched up your face, shooting him a dark scowl. roger just laughed at your angered expression, taking another drag from his cigarette.

“i swear meddows, you need a haircut.” you shook your head, turning away from the long haired drummer boy. freddie finally burst through the door, breaking the brief silence that had fallen over your side of the studio. him and miami had pizza boxes in hand, jackets slick with rain from the outside.

“hello children, sustenance has arrived! where is my love mary?” you waved freddie over, pointing at the sleeping woman on your lap. he knelt at her left, pressing a soft kiss to her temple. she was slowly starting to wake once freddie had re entered, smiling sleepily at him by her side. brian and deaky came through the recording space door, laughing at the stupid was deaky had arranged brian’s hair. roger stood, joining deaky in poking fun at brian's multiple pigtails tied by loose rubber bands. mary had moved to sit by your side, freddie’s arm wrapped around her. you strode up to miami, striking up a conversation while the rest of the group had their own fun.

munching on some pizza, you smiled at the scene in front of you. everyone was so relaxed and happy. your heart swelled. you knew, deep in your heart, that you had found your family.

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like i said, pure fluff. but plot is coming in the next part. should be up saturday or sunday.

taglist!!

@afirstclassloser @isabella-bby @guiltyissues @emothrash @moveimbi @thatgeekspeak @ilikecoffeecupsmorethancoffee @maiauniversetime @allieburakovsky @70srogertaylor @therealwatermelon @rogersfalsettos @cosmiclunas @anamcg317 @dreamer821 @bibahbubah @sabbrriiinnaa

#queen #roger taylor #bohemian rhapsody #ben hardy #benhardy!roger #roger taylor x reader #roger taylor imagine #bohemianrhapsody #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy imagine #benhardy #rogertaylor #borhap #bohemian rhapsody movie #fanfiction #fanfic #ten things

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amazildoessomethingstupid · 5 years

Text

Chapter 95: Love Again Part 2

Well boys we back on it again! I hope you’re ready cause I’ve been spending most of this week after the response pumping out response images for this next part! So let’s waste no more time and jump right into it!

…

Oh shut up, you know you laughed at it.

So we start off with one of mah boi Bee’s favorite pages! Just look at this great update of a page! Just jam packed with so much stuff to sink your teeth into, and digest. It’s a magnificent piece that is not only worth waiting 2 full days to see, but waiting 2 to 3 more days to see what’s next! And while I was not a dedicated reader, waiting hours on end for when this page update I can only imagine how elated those readers who did wait, must’ve been to see this page!

No wonder this chapter’s 50 pages long… AND IT CONTINUES!

Okay, okay, no I’m not really going to bitch about these splash pages and how fucking tedious and restless it would’ve made me as a serial reader to go into this. Partly, because the way I’m reading these now and with the rant series of going chapter by chapter was all inspired by the great advice by Bear Kidney that he gave me years ago on the forum. That the “proper” way to read BCB is as full chapters, and to just wait for them to be finished…

Which meant in order for an average person to read this “properly” they’d have to wait…

Five full months…

Sure! But since we are reading this “properly” I will say that these splash pages do help to set the pace. It sets the tone for this scene pretty well and makes us slow down and appreciate what’s happening, and immerse ourselves into the past.

But enough praise! You know what’s coming, I know what’s coming! Let’s get to it! I’m ready! I’m hungry for some strawberry pancakes! Let’s tear int-

Wait what?

Right when I have to transfer? Wait, this is a flashback right? Is she talking about the private school? I thought we only learned about this private school thing this chapter. What is she-

THEM? Do what? Uhhhhh What?! A-am I missing something here? This is a flashback to when Lucy attempts suicide, right? This is after December, I thought that’s why she did that. Is that not it? Am I missing something?! I THOUGHT I WAS ALL PREPARED WHAT THE HELL?

Okay so this IS about the new school? Okay. Why? I thought what happened in December was enough! Was it not enough? Did that just push her further into this point? Wait, no. This had to be after December. So the move was done because of December? So the first course of action upon realizing Lucy had been acting depressed was to immediately move her to a new place? No like therapy or anything? No counseling? What the…

Okay, hold that thought one second here, I need to resort to a third-party source on this shit.

Hello? Yes, I’m doing the rant and I am now not only angry but very confused! You’ve read further into the comic than me, what the fuck is Lucy talking about here?!

….

WHAT?! WHAT DO YOU MEAN THERE WAS A SCENE WHERE THEY MENTIONED LUCY MOVING AWAY?! I DON’T REMEMBER ANY SCENE LIKE…wait a second…

ARE YOU SERIOUSLY TALKING ABOUT THIS SCENE?! HOLY CRAP, EVEN I FORGOT ABOUT THIS SCENE! What the fuck?! You mean this one little scene. This little one-page moment shuffled in early, in a chapter that had its own memorable bits of drama and character moments that easily overshadow it; was not only meant to be a very important scene that hints at one of the main reasons Lucy is trying to kill herself…BUT WE WERE SUPPOSED TO- NO WE WERE *EXPECTED* TO HOLD ONTO THIS ONE LITTLE BIT OF DIALOGUE FOR ALMOST FIVE FUCKING YEARS IF WE WANTED TO FULLY UNDERSTAND WHY LUCY’S ATTEMPTING TO KILL HERSELF?!

Yeah, thinking about it I’m not that surprised, honestly. And people think I’m crazy for looking this deeply into the comic and characters and motivations. Apparently, I wasn’t looking hard enough! Jesus, good thing I missed that. If I knew that Sam was so on board with not letting Lucy have say on her treatment, or what happens to her, January would’ve crumbled apart! Not to mention, according to this False Idol shouldn’t have happened since Lucy would’ve been moved away before the summer…

Hey by the way, do we get any follow up on what exactly Lucy did while she was in that private school? Like how was her treatment, care, and stuff? How she was doing?

Why are you laughing?

Alright, I’m not gonna lie. I felt something there. You got me, Taeshi. This bit of paneling. The build up, the expressions, it works here. But sadly I’d be remised if I didn’t make this joke.

You know I had to do it to em’.

But instead she goes for the cannonball! Bold move there, Cotton! Let’s see if it pays off!

Oof! She’s gonna lose a lot of points for not sticking the landing. But I still give it a 5/10 for style points. Okay, okay, I joke but I gotta give props to this scene for well execution (…no pun intended)

The structure of this page is very well done, and reminds me of Korean style of web paneling which uses a lot of negative space and vertical structure to build tension, and slow down the reader’s pace by forcing them to scroll down in order to read forward. If you’ve seen any of those Korean horror webcomics you’ll know what I mean. It’s very effective, and it works to build this tension and intrigue into what happened. It’s a very good trick, and Taeshi’s use of it here is very nice. It’s just…

What….

What the fuck?

WHAT THE FUCK?! YOU BUILT THIS SCENE UP FOR YEARS AND THIS IS WHAT WE GET?! YOU FUCKING HACK! YOU WERE DOING SO WELL! IF YOU JUST TOOK IT SLOW FOR ONE SECOND, AND NOT FUCKING GO OVER THE TOP WITH YOUR EXECUTION OF SCENES! THE ONE TIME! THE ONE SCENE THAT DESERVED TO STAND ON ITS OWN AND HAVE A FUCKING OUNCE OF SUBTLETY AND REALISM, AND YOU COULDN’T FUCKEJWOIGHSLKDA;J

HGNGKJFJLGKFHBN LFKGJHLLJDFGKLJ;LHKGFLKJIUCUCBITCHLKJBVKJLHKJXHCVH

*WHUMP*

Uhhh…

WE INTERRUPT YOUR REGULARLY SCHEDULED RANT TO BRING YOU BIOLOGY CLASS WITH DR. CAS MARIE!

Hello, kids! Did you know, that hidden inside every animal including you, me, and sharks. Is this thing we call a skeleman! And he brings with him these things called “bones” which are integral for not only fast movement, and articulation in our moving parts, but also they help keep our vital organs safe by surrounding our heart, lungs, and livers. We’ll get more into him in a second, but just know he lives inside almost every living creature!

Well except for invertebrates….

Fuck invertebrates! Think you’re so bad, just cause you ain’t got no bones!

But anyway, beyond that skeleman has with him his best friend. MUSCLE MAN! Who is sort of like a squishy version of the skeleman. He is the one who keeps the skeleman safe. For you see kids, the skeleman’s bones are very hard, pretty dense too if you drink your bone juice! But that hardness makes him very brittle. That’s why muscle man is here to add a tough layer on top of the skeleman. But that’s not all he does! He sort of acts like a bunch of rubber bands that tighten up in order to perform actions and move those lazy bones! Cause bones can’t move themselves. Now these muscles are controlled subconsciously through the central nervous system. That might sound like some big words, but the central nervous system when talking about the skeleman refers to the skull as well as the central part of the skeleman. And what’s in the center of the skeleman?

WHY IT’S THE SPINE OF COURSE! And directly attached to that, is the brain! The spine serves as the main messenger for the body to tell everything else what to do! Limbs, organs, and all that good stuff. It’s why the spine is the most important bone of them all! Without a spine, you would literally not function, and die. Now I know you’re all very intrigued, but before we go any further there’s a little experiment I’d like you folks at home to try real quick!

Take your hand, and place it on top of your belly. Now give it a nice squish, just a little jiggle. Now lift up your arm, and squish your hey babies with the other arm. You feel that? Feel that squish? Feel that jiggle?

That’s what’s known as “fat” like when I say “You fat fucking slob.” It makes our bodies more buoyant, as well as protect our nice tight muscle man, with a pliable squishy layer right under the skin! Now of course, some parts of the body have more fat than others, as the fat is meant to protect vital parts of the body and its functions such as the breasts, the thighs, and of course the abdomen! While we’re talking about skin, there’s an interesting fact about skin. You see, skin is meant to withstand blunt force very well. Often times, you’ll notice that skin will scrape, bruise, bend, and squish, but hardly break except for certain circumstances like if you used a sharp object on it. This is because the skin is meant to absorb and be pliable enough that it’s a bit hard to tear with blunt force. Usually whenever it does, it’s due to the skeleman’s bones breaking and causing a tear from under the skin for the blood to come out or when it is pinched between the hard bone and a hard surface such as asphalt. This is why you’ll often hear the term “internal bleeding” thrown around during certain traumatic injuries. Because while the skin layer hasn’t broken, there is still something inside the body that is bleeding, but it’s not coming out of the body because of the skin layer! Not to say of course, that you can’t of course break skin through sheer blunt force trauma. But it would take a lot of force that would most definitely cause you more problems than just breaking the skin. Now I hope you were taking lessons back there, because POP QUIZ HOTSHOT! I got a surprise question for you~ With everything I’ve said about the human body and how it is able to take blunt force trauma, please tell me.

HOW THE FUCK DOES THIS HAPPEN? HOW THE FUCK DO YOU SURVIVE THAT?! AND HOW DO YOU SURVIVE THAT WITHOUT ANY LOSS OF LIMB, SCARRING, OR LASTING EFFECT?!

I’m sorry, but you can not achieve that sort of blood splatter by sheer force of gravity alone. Or if you did, then this scene should’ve been more like this!

youtube

The only explanation I’ve heard that makes any sense is that there was just some random ass rock that was there that Lucy landed on that. Which. Okay, then. Okay, sure. Yeah, okay. Then how the fuck do you survive that? That is no small wound based on the amount of blood that was expelled on impact. And if this rock is big and sharp enough to cause that amount of blood loss on impact, it would be big and sharp enough to do immense damage to the abdomen. But oh that’s alright! It’s just the abdomen, there’s nothing going on in there! It’s just your stomach, your liver, your kidneys, your colon, your womb (if you have one) your pancreas, your bladder, y’know stuff you don’t really need. But of course if that gets compromised, and based on the force and damage you could easily break a rib, puncture a lung, and really fuck up your life. That’s not even counting what sort of damage the fall did on her arm! That shoulder must be fucked! Look at how its bent even! You’re not moving that thing any time soon! Your pelvic bone must be shattered if this is the kind of force you took. You are now a vegetable. But that’s not even the biggest point! That’s not the worst part, those things? I know some of you are gonna say, “Oh Amazil, you’re not a doctor! She could survive that! People survive insane things like that all the time!”

Well okay, but riddle me this. Let’s say the rock doesn’t kill her, and by some miracle none of her internals are FUBAR right now. She didn’t cause a bone break, and destroy her limbs. Remember what we said about the central nervous system. The most important bone of the body is the spine and skull. And one of the most vulnerable parts for the spine is the neck. If you fall to the ground with enough velocity, the whiplash you should have from your body going from 60 to 0 in an instant should cause your neck to snap or leave you paralyzed for a good second if not immediately kill you because the force of momentum would carry all that velocity to make your head connect with the ground at its resting speed. And while I know I said that skin is very hard to tear, y’know what makes it tear or break? When the hard contact with the ground, meets hard contact with your hard skull! If she landed so hard on a rock that blood spew out a good foot or two in front of her, how the hell does she not crack her head on the pavement?! And don’t you give me no bullshit about the snow either! I’m sorry Lucy, but by all accounts.

If this scene wasn’t a flashback and we knew Lucy wasn’t dead, there would be no doubt that she was fucking dead if we saw this.

But it seems we aren’t alone in judging this scene. Augustus is here too! (which we kinda already know because of how this scene was set up but nonetheless). And he’s here to say

Wait, let me take a selfie an-

No…

Oh my fucking god…

OH MY GOD! NO!

DO I EVEN NEED TO SAY WHAT’S WRONG WITH THIS RIGHT HERE?!

NO LUCY THAT’S NOT WHAT YOU SHOULD BE SAYING! WHAT YOU SHOULD BE SAYING IS

Sgdslkhg;sldlkdshgknxcv;jhdf;kldgsasdn

Translation: OH GOD, PLEASE HELP THERE IS BLOOD CLEARLY POOLING IN MY MOUTH! MY MOUTH IS FILLING WITH BLOOD! THERE IS BLOOD IN MY LUNGS AND I CAN’T BREATHE!

Your body should be in shock right now! You just suffered traumatic physical injury! Your brain and body is still trying to comprehend what the fuck just happened. You shouldn’t be this lucid, let alone this active and coordinated! Not to mention, the first rule of dealing with someone who has suffered traumatic injury and is on the ground, is NEVER. EVER. MOVE THE PERSON UNLESS YOU ABSOLUTELY HAVE TO, AND IF YOU DO, YOU DO IT VERY SLOWLY AND AS CAREFULLY AS POSSIBLE. This is because like I mentioned, Lucy’s body has suffered a lot of damage. Her spine could and should be fucked up after that fall. And the reason every EMT or anyone who has the basic knowledge of first aid will tell you not to fucking move if you’ve suffered a traumatic fall, is because if you move and your spine WASN’T fucked up by that fall, it very easily WILL get fucked up if you try to move the body while it’s still injured! They are very careful about that shit, because if you slip up you turn a situation from salvageable, to fucking vegetable in one solid motion! All it takes is just curving your spine a bit immediately after it’s suffered from the shock an-

Oh yeah kinda like that. That might do it or-

Oof, yeah arching your back like that and trying to crawl after a fall. Yeah that ought to do it. Add on top of this, the aforementioned likelihood she broke a rib, and is probably suffering from a pierced lung and oh yeah

And if you’re not double-dead, you are at the very least fucking paralyzed, or require some serious physical therapy. You are not walking away from this.

What was that?

“UP here”?

I-is this not the ground floor? Is there a lower part to this? DID LUCY FALL ONTO ANOTHER LEDGE? QUICK LUCY! YOU CAN JUST ROLL OVER; YOU DIDN’T HIT THE ACTUAL GROUND APPARENTLY! THERE’S MORE FALLING YOU CAN DO TO FINISH THE JOB!

Wh-what? I-it’s a cut? It’s just a cut? What the…How…What is this scene?! You mean to tell me the only injury she got was some abdominal cut?! From falling off a building? What? Did she just see the first 2-story building she came across and say “oh that looks good enough, yeah that should do it!” I swear to god. It’s almost like…

It’s almost like…

She didn’t want to die. Maybe she was just doing it for att-

NO! NO! DON’T YOU DARE! THAT’S NOT TRUE! YOU TAKE THAT SHIT BACK! THAT’S NOT A POSSIBILITY! LUCY DID NOT DO THAT! SHE IS BETTER THAN THAT! SHE DOES NOT DESERVE THAT! AND I REFUSE TO BELIEVE THAT’S THE CASE!

So a girl jumps off a building to try and kill herself. But the height she falls from is so low that the only damage she got was from some random ass cut that she no doubt wasn’t expecting. Despite the assumed physical trauma that would’ve come if she jumped from a height any person would assume to be lethal enough; she doesn’t have any physical impairments, no lasting damage that we can see 9 months after the fact, no scar, no limp, she doesn’t even seem to be taking it very seriously in the current time. How else would you explain that, except that she didn’t put much thought into it. The kind of thought people who attempt suicide would, in planning out their attempt, climbing those stairs, knowing the area, and finally committing to it. Despite all that contemplating, she didn’t go high enough to do anything more than get a freak accidental injury. How is that not a sign that maybe she wasn’t really trying to die.

But hey, I don’t read this junk. I’m just going off what I see here. I don’t know this character. Do you think that would be out of character for her at this point? What other reason would you have for someone surviving this, but not dying?

….

Maybe they have a lower force of gravity in this world?

Hmm…

Or maybe Taeshi’s just a fucking hack who decided to go over the top and add a stupid gore effect that was far too much; instead of keeping the scene simple, subtle, and letting the action speak for itself, with a realistic tone and visual to keep things grounded (no pun intended).

Atta’ girl! I knew you had it in you!

But it’s such a shame. Looking at this script, I’m already close to eclipsing the rant I made for the first part of this chapter and it was all for this one fucking moment. And you can call me harsh all you want, but this seriously pissed me off. I remember when this page came out, I was fuming. I broke my vow of illiteracy to check the previous pages just because I had to know what the fuck lead to this, and what the fuck was happening. This one panel haunts me and is one of the few moments in BCB that legitimately triggers me, because of how poorly handled it was.

This should’ve been a fucking bombshell moment. This should’ve been the moment that shut my cynical, hardass mouth up or glue my jaw straight to the floor. It should’ve been an awe inspiring moment where Taeshi really showed us and reminded us just how fucking great she can be. This was a moment that everyone was waiting for with bated breath. I remember, I created January years ago specifically because we didn’t get this sort of scene. We didn’t get to see Lucy’s last struggle, or giving in. We were just told that she was gone and faded away, leaving us hollow and wanting for more. Yearning for years and years for resolution to come.

And this is what we got.

FUCKING YAMCHA’D!

But y’know what’s the best part? And if you know me, and are familiar with my stuff you know damn well what I’m talking about. The absolute best part about this whole fucking thing?

I beat Taeshi to the punch by miles. And not only that, but (and this is what really pisses me off) reading this page showed me that I gave more fucking respect and thought into this character and this moment than Taeshi did. Because, y’know why? Because of this.

That’s right. Lucy was supposed to cry out and deny and fight Sue in January to let her die. Kind of like…

HRMMMMMMMMMM Now don’t get it twisted. I’m not trying to make a comparison in saying that my idea of having Lucy fight with Susan to let her die is the same thing happening here. What I’m talking about here, is this wonderful thing in storytelling called TONE. And this scene, starting with that panel and Lucy’s reaction to Augustus kills what should’ve been a serious, and somber tone by adding in this layer of mystery, and doubt, and mistrust, and fear. Which COULD’VE been interesting and done well to make us invested.

Like oh no, what’s he doing? Who is he calling?

Oh my god, is he calling Alejandro? Is this how Lucy dies? (although, I doubt there would be much he could do since she’s already dying. Putting Alejandro in that mix would’ve just been weird, what’s he gonna do? Beat up her corpse or something?)

Oh what a relief! He’s calling an ambulance how nice, this is so relieving except wait-

WE ALREADY KNOW THAT AUGUSTUS IS GOING TO SAVE HER! SO ALL THAT BULLSHIT TENSION IS POINTLESS! So what did we learn or get from this scene?

We see how Lucy tried to kill herself. Which was poorly done.

We see how she was conflicted after Curtain Call with Mike talking to her about stuff.

We see that her moving to some other place and getting transferred to a new school wasn’t just something that happened in response to her suicide attempt but was pre-planned.

Okay.

Let me go make a call and see if any of this gets brought up or used later on.

Dude I’m being serious here. Why do you keep laughing? I just want to know if anything comes from the information from this scene. Otherwise, what’s the fucking point of dropping this bomb here other than because Lucy’s here now so we must have this scene now.

STOP LAUGHING!

But what am I saying? We haven’t even talked about January yet! So let’s do that shall we? Cause I know you think I’m just tooting my own horn by saying I put more thought into January’s suicide attempt scene but allow me to indulge myself. As I dive into one of the best scenes I’ve ever written. A scene that I put all my heart and mind into, to make it the best it could be. Because this character deserves it.

Right off the bat it is meant to make the reader perk up and raise a red flag to note that something is going on and you need to take notice. If you’ve read January, you’ll know that it is a very wordy comic. It’s jampacked with panels, words, jokes, dramatic moments, and it is meant to be a very fast paced comic that rarely slows down or shuts up. So when greeted by six panel pages that are wordless, and seemingly benign it is meant to illicit intrigue into the reader, to make them wonder why has the train slowed down.

It doesn’t waste your time either, as only two pages later do we get words again but it only adds more mystery into what’s going on. The paneling is still broken up, and scarce. And as the reader follows along, the tension and mystery builds. The lack of panels, the more prevalent backgrounds, it is visually demanding the reader slow down and immerse themselves into this scene and what is going on. Sue acting as the surrogate for the reader, as she gains the information and is left questioning in tandem with the reader.

And just as it dawns on the reader what’s going on, it dawns on Susan. The tension builds, and the question shifts. No longer asking what’s going on with this scene, but rather: How can Sue stop this? Or Can she stop this?

And at the same time, we are being drip fed Lucy’s words and perspective. We know what’s about to happen, it’s no longer a mystery. And the tension mounts until the final moment…

This is why I give props to the canon for its portrayal of Lucy’s jump. It was well done, well paced. It had this nice tension, and for that I appreciate it. But where it differs is what happens after Lucy commits to killing herself.

You see, there was a lot of thought I had put into how exactly Lucy was going to kill herself. If you’ll allow me to be cold and dark for a moment; I went over a few different modes of suicide for Lucy. And really thinking about which one would be the best one, not just for dramatic effect, not just for realism, but also which would be the best one for this scene. It came down to what would be a method that Lucy could survive from if she attempted it (so no toaster bath); what would be a method that Susan could dramatically save Lucy from, while still being able to talk to Lucy and understand her (so no over the counter cocktail); and how can I make it absolutely 100% sure to the audience that both of these characters are committed to what they’re doing? And to me…

Nothing shows that more, than Lucy fully committed to kicking the chair out from under her; and Sue clinging to Lucy for dear life, physically and emotionally trying to prop her up even as Lucy has fully committed to giving up. (if you’ve ever wondered how this overthinking, overanalyzing, cynical mind of mine works towards building my own stories. This should give you a good idea of what I go over with these scenes when I take them seriously)

If you remember the comment I mentioned earlier about changing Lucy’s reaction to Sue’s rescue, this is what I changed, and how it elevates this scene. Narratively, this should’ve been the moment where the reader catches a breath and relaxes knowing that Lucy’s safe now. But instead the reader remains in Sue’s shoes, clinging to Lucy and wanting to tell her everything’s okay, but Lucy explains that it’s not. We see into Lucy’s mentality. And it heartbreaking, because it’s not yelled at, it’s not cried out, it’s spoken somberly, with expressions and responses that fully capture how hopeless Lucy feels, and how true she feels it is.

And when Lucy finally does yell, and shows emotion it isn’t done to add some extra tension or drama in actuality, this is a moment where Sue breaks through Lucy’s armor and she shows her vulnerability. And even still the tone does not change. The tension is still tight, and it refuses to let up. But not only that.

This scene comes with a flashback, but instead of leaving us with more questions, or scratching our heads as to what it had to do with anything or what it means. It adds context to the situation, and its message is meant to be absolutely clear to you why it’s happening and what it means for the story and for these characters. This is Lucy’s moment. This is where we see her at her lowest point. Broken. Defeated. Unable to cope or push on.

But we’re reminded that there are two characters in this scene. We see both sides of the coin fully understand what Sue is feeling right now. Guilty. Ashamed. Stupid. Naïve. This scene builds, exposes, and fleshes out its two main characters. Showing each of their struggles.

It’s this scene that sets the stage for these characters, and it’s a jumping off point (again, no pun intended) for them to grow from. This entire scene sets its serious tone from the start, and holds the reader hostage, keeping the tension up and forcing them to take this seriously because it has something to say.

(god damn it, I really should’ve rephrased that to “cause I am not letting you go” that would’ve been so much better) But that’s its final message, and final note. A promise that carries on, that is reflected in the characters every action from this point on. Lucy’s suicide attempt is what kicks off(…no pun intended?) the rest of the story. It lingers over everything and is a main point that is brought back constantly, time and time again. It is an integral part of not only Lucy’s character development, but Sue’s character development.

And even when she does come down, and the reader is given a moment to take a breath and crack a joke. It’s clear that this is just the beginning, and there is a lot of work left to be done. And things for the reader to look forward to. Lucy’s suicide attempt was something that I knew I had to treat with the utmost respect, and love. In the end, we don’t know what’s going to happen now, but we do know Lucy’s problem. We completely understand and can empathize with her character, for what she’s feeling, what she’s going through right now.

Nothing is left unclear.

You’re never asking what’s going on.

You’re not meant to search and assume the answers on your own.

It’s clear cut.

It’s gutwrenching.

It’s brutal.

But most importantly.

It’s fucking real.

You don’t doubt that Susan, with adrenaline pumping through her veins could force herself to hold Lucy up. You don’t wonder how Lucy could survive her attempt. You don’t wonder what is going through her mind. Or why she’s being saved. The scene is meant to be impactful (Jesus I just keep walking right into it. God damn! I’m sorry, no pun intended) It deserves so much better than what it got. After everything that this comic did…This.

This just kills it for me. You had the opportunity to make this amazing, something more than just its premise. But instead it just falls flat on its fa-OH GOD DAMN IT WHY CAN’T I STOP DOING THAT?! I JUST CAN’T AVOID ACCIDENTALLY MAKING THESE DAMN PUNS!

A friend of mine made a good point on how this chapter could’ve been salvaged. First off fuck that blood splatter it’s gratuitous, it’s excessive, and it’s distracting. Just imagine for a second that it wasn’t there.

(look I tried to clean it up, it’s getting really late and this is getting absurdly long) But imagine instead Lucy fell and we just see her lying on the ground. Her mind is in shock. She is struggling to move. Her body feels almost numb. She doesn’t know what’s going on, her mind hasn’t fully comprehended what has just happened. We start to see blood slowly pool beneath her and blend into the snow. Growing as she starts to feel the pain set in. The chilly breeze cooling her wound and making her feel unbearably cold. Her vision fades, the scene zooms out as she starts to accept her fate, maybe thinking of final apologies, lamenting on the things she’s done, the words she’s never said, the life she never lead. And just as she’s about to pass out.

She sees a silhouette of Augustus. It’s unclear what he does, why he’s there, or what happens to Lucy as she passes out unsure if it was even real, what will happen to her.

And THEN the chapter starts! And we see her, and the suicide attempt can stand on its own! (maybe you can insert Augustus’ point of view of the scene in the place of this scene when Lucy says “this is the boy who saved my life” and we can maybe see Augustus care a bit about Lucy, or how he really feels. It also would’ve been better if this scene came out earlier in the comic when this was more fresh in our minds. But let’s wrap it up shall we?

We get a nice few bits of Augustus interacting with Lucy’s family and it’s really heartwarming. It’s so cute, and it is a wonderful reminder of how Lucy’s actions impact not only our main characters but their families. Not to mention Augustus is just adorable, and seeing him interact in this new environment, with people who legitimately care for him is very refreshing. I like it a lot.

And come on, just look at how cute and amazing Lucy’s mom is. She’s the best thing about this chapter. It’s really nice to see Lucy’s family and how they act.

and the chapter ends with cute Augustus finally finding a place to call home~

Overall, this comic is just a bunch of disappointments with one nice little light at the end. There were many chapters I’d point to as infuriating but this one…

For what it set out to do, and what it tried to do, and what it should’ve done. In a word it is utterly disappointing. And leaves me so hollow.

I give it a 2/10. I hope to god that Taeshi does better. I’d say it can’t get worse than this, but I keep hearing about this carnival chapter, and man…

I’ll see you guys when i miss the next update. Till then, this is Lt_Amazil signing off.

#Bittersweet Candy Bowl #rant

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