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withacapitalp · 1 year

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Little Bird, Little Bird, Fly Through My Window

Read it on ao3 instead!

Robin’s mom calls her every Thursday at exactly 7:30 pm.

When she and Steve moved to New York so she could go to school, her parents initially pitched a fit about it. Moving 12 hours away, to the biggest city in the world, with a man she didn’t have any plans to marry?

Yeah, that certainly led to a few raised voices in the Buckley household.

But, once they got over the initial shock, her parents had come around to the idea. She was an adult, so they couldn’t stop her if she really wanted to, and Steve could charm birds off the trees with the right smile and sweet words. When she had finally convinced them that Steve was honestly just her best friend- no they weren’t sleeping together, no they weren’t secretly dating- they had agreed to support her. With a few conditions of course.

One: Don’t get pregnant.

Robin was pretty sure she would be able to avoid that one

Two: No going out at night without Steve.

Yes, they were still a little suspicious of whatever was going on there, but no one would bother her if he was walking next to her. That was fine, she didn’t really like to go anywhere without Steve anyway, that was the whole point of him leaving Hawkins with her.

Three: Her mother was going to call their apartment every Thursday at 7:30 pm, and Robin better answer the phone every single time.

That was the most annoying one.

Her mom just liked to talk so much. Olivia Buckely was a born and bred Midwesterner, and Robin had never had a phone call with her that didn’t last for at least two and a half hours. She always felt the need to update her daughter on every single member of their family, each neighbor, and all of her coworkers. What they had done, what they hadn’t done, who they were seeing, who they weren’t seeing anymore...all of it.

Robin couldn’t have cared less about any of that, but her mom still held her hostage anyway.

In all honesty, it was a small thing to have to fit in. She and Steve had settled quickly into their new life, and they had made a ritual for Thursday nights to deal with the annoyance of the phone.

They would come home from their jobs or their schools, and Steve would make Robin whatever she wanted for dinner. It didn’t matter how elaborate or how silly, he would make it. Once she had requested only a chocolate cake, just to see what he would do. An hour and a half later he presented her with a two layered masterpiece complete with birthday candles, just for shits and giggles.

They would eat dinner together on their lumpy little sofa, plates balanced precariously in their laps as they watched a movie on their tiny little box TV. Then, when the phone inevitably rang at 7:30 on the dot, Steve would take both of their plates and go do the dishes, coming back to the living room afterward to do whatever while Robin stood by the phone and slowly lost her mind.

Then, afterward, they would get rip roaring drunk.

It worked for them. It was annoying, but it worked for them.

It was on one of those Thursdays that Robin got the biggest shock of her life.

“Joanie called by the way. That woman who just married your Uncle Mitchell? I swear, I don’t know how he continues to get women to fall for him, he’s been married three times already. She’s a nice girl though, so I hope they make it, but she did bring along two kids of her own, so who knows?” Her mother prattled on, uncaring of the fact that her daughter was going to jump out their fifth story window if she had to hear much more of this.

Robin hummed to show her mom she was still listening, turning around to face Steve and miming putting a gun to her head.

He smirked at her and pushed up his glasses, lowering his gaze back down to the textbook in his lap. He had a test in one of his education classes tomorrow, and he was still studying. It was on Blooms….Bloom’s….

Bloom’s Whatever. It had to do with how kids learned, Robin knew that much. She had been helping him study for the last five days, but none of it really stuck in her head. It was weird, this was the first time that he really understood something that she couldn’t comprehend.

Oh well. It was stuck in Steve’s head, that was all that mattered.

“-plays baseball or something. And the older one is just a little bit younger than you, actually. Apparently, it was a teen pregnancy, a very big deal. Her parents disowned her, can you believe that?”

“No, I can’t,” Robin lied, not really sure who she was in disbelief for. Was this still about Mitch’s new wife, Jane?

Regardless of who, Robin could easily believe in someone’s parents disowning them when they found out something they didn’t like.

She could very easily believe that.

“Well, he is a very nice boy, Robin, a good addition to the family. You’ll like him, they’ll all be here when you come home for the holidays. He might even bring his boyfriend too. Oh, and please get me the times for your flights, honey. Your father wants to take off work so he can pick you two up,” Olivia said, her tone etching into impatience.

Robin opened her mouth to complain about her mom nagging her again about flights that weren’t happening for almost a whole month, but then her words finally registered in Robin’s brain.

Boyfriend. His boyfriend.

Her mom had just casually used the words ‘his boyfriend’.

“I’m sorry?” Robin said, her voice slightly strangled.

She must have misheard her, or the phone was malfunctioning. Somewhere along the 750 miles of line, it had to have cut out or warped the words, because there was no way in hell her extremely religious mother had just used the words ‘his’ and ‘boyfriend’ together in a sentence without bursting into flame.

“Your flights! Darling, I’ve asked you about this a thousand times. Put Steve on the phone, he’ll help me. I know I wasn’t sure about you moving out to that big city all alone with that boy, but honestly, now I thank my lucky stars that you have him. At least someone there would be able to find their head if it wasn’t attached!” Her mother teased.

Normally this was where Robin would get snarky, call her mom out for being just as forgetful as her. She couldn’t this time, she was too focused on the fact that all of the air seemed to have left the room in an instant, and her body had become mysteriously hollow.

“I wasn’t- his boyfriend?” Robin repeated, needing some kind of clarification. Steve, who had been happily eavesdropping on Robin’s side of the call the entire time, slowly put his book on the table, watching Robin with a worried look.

Olivia, who didn’t seem to have noticed the shift in her daughter’s mood, continued to gossip.

“Yes. Mitchell’s new wife Joanie? She brought her sons with her to Thanksgiving. Eric is the younger boy and Kyle is the older one. He brought his boyfriend Derek, who is a lovely young man by the way! He’s in school in Chicago studying finance, that’s where they met. He reminds me a lot of Steve actually. He has this thing he does with children, some sort of outreach? He was telling me-

“Mom,” Robin cut in, hard and fast. That was sometimes the only way to get a word in when it came to her mother, and Robin needed that word.

She wanted to ask a thousand questions, she had a hundred different things running through her brain.

She couldn’t find a single word.

“Robin? What’s wrong, little bird?” Her mother asked in a careful loving tone, using her childhood nickname.

Robin leaned back, her knees knocking together as she shook, slowly sliding down to sit on the floor. Steve got up from the couch, crossing the room in just a few steps and coming to sit by her side. Without a word he held out his hand, and she grabbed it with her free one, squeezing too tight. A rush of love for her best friend swept through her, and Robin squeezed his hand again.

Steve always just knew what she needed, and Robin had no idea how she had lived seventeen years of her life without him.

“You don’t- I mean you-” Robin cut herself off, lowering her voice to a whisper of complete bafflement, “You don’t mind?”

“Don’t mind what, my love?” Her mother asked, perplexed.

Robin smothered down a laugh, completely baffled. In the past four years she had lived through actual monster attacks and the literal apocalypse, but this was the most unbelievable thing that had ever happened to her.

“That he has a boyfriend?” Robin clarified, pulling her hand away from Steve for a second to run her fingers anxiously through her hair, before latching onto him again, “You don’t mind that Kasey, Kyle, whoever, has a boyfriend?”

“Oooooooh!” Her mother said, finally putting the dots together, “Well, it’s a little unconventional, but the boy is very nice. Both of them are!”

Very nice. Her mother, who literally carried a pocket bible in her purse at all times, just called a gay boy and his partner ‘very nice’.

Briefly Robin considered that she might’ve died in the Upside Down a year ago. There was no way this was reality.

“I didn’t think you had a problem with gay people,” Her mother commented after the silence had gone on for a touch too long.

“I don’t,” Robin quickly said, searching for an explanation that wasn’t ‘I’m a gay people’, “I just, I didn’t know you didn’t.”

“Of course I don’t! Have I ever said I did?” Her mother asked, sounding worried.

She didn’t need to say it. The endless crosses all around their house said it. The constant bible verses said it. The Reagan yard sign said it. The pastor at their church who said AIDS was God’s Will said it. All of those things spoke louder than words ever could.

But Robin had no idea how to explain that.

“You go to church every week!” She finally sputtered out, as if that was enough.

“And?”

“You quote the bible at me constantly!” Robin protested, her voice raising.

Steve’s hand slid out of hers, and he wrapped around her shoulders, rubbing up and down on the top of her arm soothingly. It didn’t do much, but it was enough to make her let go of the emotions starting to ramp up.

“I mean, c’mon mom,” She said softly, letting her heart open up that same painful wound she had carried all her life, “What was I supposed to think?”

“Well let me quote you some more bible then, dear, because you’re clearly missing the most important thing,” Her mother said, and Robin could hear the fluttering pages in her mind as Olivia looked for exactly what she wanted to say. When she found it she gave a quiet exclamation before clearing her throat, the way she always did when she wanted to ‘speak the good word’

“John 4:7 Beloved, let us love one another, for love is from God, and whoever loves has been born of God and knows God.”

Robin’s mother had been quoting scripture at her her entire life. On her good days, Robin was able to just roll her eyes and politely smile and nod along. On her bad days…well there had been a lot of bad days. Never once had she felt comforted by anything in the bible.

Well, never before this moment.

Robin bit at her trembling lip, squeezing her eyes shut tight. Steve’s forehead gently knocked against the side of her head, and she leaned into him, keeping a death grip on the receiver as her mother stayed quiet on the other side of the line.

“I- I’m-” Robin stopped herself. The quiet stretched out into a thin tense thing, until her mother’s voice rang out again.

“Robin, darling, I would never hate someone for what they were born as. Kyle didn’t choose to be born a homosexual, the lord made him that way,” Robin scoffed as her mother quoted gay anthems back at her. Her mom paused again, then spoke even quieter, “My most important commandment from Jesus is to love him, exactly as he is.”

“And you...don’t think it’s a sin?”

Because that’s the thing that really scared her.

Sure, Robin had always worried about the big reaction- the yelling, the hatred, her parents telling her they never wanted to see her again, but that wasn’t what kept her up at night. But there fear that kept her from taking the leap. There was a reason Steve was the first person to know instead of her own mother.

Robin was afraid her mother would love her anyway.

Olivia would smile, and brush her hair back, and promise to love Robin anyway. In spite of the fact that she was a lesbian, in spite of the undeniable fact that her daughter was going to go to hell. She was scared her father would pretend that he accepted it, and behind the closed doors, they would be disappointed. Her parents loved her, and she was terrified that they would continue to love her anyway.

Robin wouldn’t be able to handle that. She could stand being hated, but being loved with a new asterisk attached would kill her.

“It’s not on me to decide what sin is, or to judge someone even if I believe I see one. Don’t forget the story of the adultress,” Her mother said instead of answering the question.

“But do you think it is a sin?” Robin pressed, needing the answer now that she had finally asked the question, "Do you think it is sinful for him to like boys?"

“No, I don’t. All he did was fall in love,” Olivia stated. As if it was that simple.

As if Robin had never had a thing to worry about. All that pain, all that self-loathing, all those nights she cried herself to sleep, all of it was completely unnecessary.

Robin’s mind raced, trying to find any way to make this make sense with what she had known all her life. Maybe it was different if it was your own kid. Sure, it might be easy to accept some random new wife’s gay son, but her very own daughter? Her mother surely would have a different reaction then, right?

Right?

She had stayed quiet too long again. Her mother spoke up once more.

“Sweetheart…I love you very much. You know I love you more than anything,” She started slowly, and Robin’s breath caught in her throat. This was it. It was time. Her secret was up.

“But if I have raised you to think that it is alright to condemn someone because of something out of their control, then I have to tell you that I disagree. Wholeheartedly.”

Robin laughed.

She couldn’t help it. She laughed, and leaned into Steve’s side, and let her tears flow. She laughed for a long time, far longer than she should have, and her mom stayed silent the entire time, listening to her reaction.

“No, mom. That’s, that’s not it,” Robin finally managed to choke out. Her breath was still hitching, and her shoulders were still shaking, even though the laughter had died away.

Another long pause.

Another frighteningly long pause. Robin didn’t dare to speak first.

“You know, your father and I talked for a long time about your plans to go to New York,” Her mother finally said, clearly starting down the long winding path of a story. Robin curled up in her soulmate’s arms and let the phone receiver sit nestled between them both.

“You were awful insistent about going with Steve. You kept swearing up and down that you weren’t dating. I’ll be honest, we didn’t believe you at first,”

Yeah, they both already knew that. Her parents had been eagle eyed, intensely analyzing every interaction the two of them had in the weeks leading up to their move.

“But then we saw you two together. Yes, you were very familiar, and we know that Steve came and slept in your room after you two thought we were asleep, but it was clear there was no romance between you two at all. Not exactly like brother and sister, but not boyfriend and girlfriend. that much was obvious. Which got me wondering...why exactly the two of you would move together. If it wasn’t love, what was it?”

It was love. It was the purest love Robin had ever felt for a person. It was the kind of love she could never explain. The only people who understood were the ones who had also felt it.

“I talked with his mother, and she said, well, let’s just say she had a few choice words about her son,” Robins’ mother said, making Steve take a sharp breath in. The subject of his parents was still an extremely sore wound.

No, not really his parents. His mother. Steve didn’t care so much about losing his father, that was an inevitability whether he came out or not. He was just too different, too far away from what his dad expected him to become. Steve was honestly kind of happy when his father had kicked him out after they found out he was gay.

But that was his father. Steve had admitted to Robin late one night that having his mother turn her back on him was something he didn’t think he was ever going to fully recover from. Robin didn’t really understand it. Steve’s mother had never been anything but a cold hearted bitch in the few stilted conversations Robin had unfortunately had to have with her, and she knew for a fact that the woman had never treated Steve much better.

But he still missed her. He still wished that she could have loved him enough to try instead of just throwing him away. Robin supposed it was probably different when it was your own mom who hated you for something you had never asked for.

And apparently, she never needed to worry about that.

“The things that Lydia Harrington said told me everything I needed to know about why that boy needed you. That vile woman, the fact that she is the head of our ladies auxiliary is a travesty, and I've already appealed to the board twice and- well, that doesn't matter. What matters is that it also got me to thinkin' about why you seemed to need Steve just as much as he needs you.”

Her mom trailed off with a sigh They were approaching the edge again, staring out over the canyon, both wondering if their wings were strong enough yet to take that leap.

“....Do you have something you want to tell me?” Olivia asked her daughter, offering to give her the push she needed to fly.

Robin had a hundred thousand things to tell her mother. She wanted to tell her about the clubs she went to dance in at night, and the girl who sat in front of her in the orchestra at Juilliard. Robin wanted to tell her about how much it meant to Steve that her parents had insisted he had to come home with her for Christmas, and the way he had stayed up late all month trying to finish the gifts he was making for them. She wanted to tell her mom about Tammy Thompson, hear her laugh as Steve and Robin impersonated the girl's truly terrible singing.

She wanted to tell her mom she was gay.

But…

“Not now,” Robin decided. She wanted to do all of that, but she wanted to do it when she could see her mother’s face, when she could feel her father’s big warm hugs, “When I come home for the holidays,”

“Alright,” Olivia agreed, her voice soft and dripping with honey, “When you come home- when you both come home- you’ll tell me what you need to tell me.”

There was a beat, and then her mom spoke again. This time her voice was thick with emotion, and the words came out heavy.

“And I will tell you that I love you. I have loved you from the moment I knew you were in my belly, and I have loved you every single second after. Through every argument, every tantrum, every time you slammed the door in my face and told me I was trying to ruin your life,” They both huffed out a soft laugh at this.

Robin had really had a flair for drama when she was younger. Still did.

“I have loved you the entire time, and I will continue to love you until my last breath.”

“Mom,” Robin started, about to start the cycle all over again, but her mother interrupted her.

“You,” Olivia said with as much conviction as she could possibly have, “are the greatest gift of my life, Robin. My greatest joy. And I hope that you know that you can tell me whatever you need to, whenever you need to. I’d bury a body for you, little girl, but don’t you dare make me!”

She and Steve both broke out into giggles at this. The air was starting to come back into the room, warm and sweet.

“Your father feels the same way, just so you know,” Her mom added, just in case Robin hadn’t already caught that from everything else said, “Nothing could change how we feel for you,”

“Okay,” Robin whispered.

“You’re not alone right now, right?” Her mom asked, the normal touch of worry coloring her tone.

“No, um- Steve is sitting right next to me,” Robin admitted, hoping her mom would be okay with knowing that he had heard all of that.

“Hi, Mrs. Buckley,” Steve called, his voice betraying the fact that he had also been taken down by her heartfelt confession.

“Hi Angelboy!” Her mother sang, using the silly nickname she had assigned him when he had done the dishes one night after a family dinner. Olivia had been complaining that no one in the house ever helped her, and while she was ranting, Steve had snuck into the kitchen and finished all the dishes. She had bustled into the kitchen, found that there was no more work to be done, and declared that he was ‘her angel boy’, and she was stealing him from Robin.

“Make sure he knows the same thing goes for him- nothing changes that he’s a part of this family now,” She stated firmly.

“He knows,” Robin reassured her, knowing her mother would get in a car and drive all the way to New York just to come and beat it into their heads if she detected even a hint of doubt.

Robin rubbed at her face and took a deep calming breath, exhaustion starting to come over her in a haze. After that much emotion, the only thing she could want was her bed.

Well that, a stiff drink, and her best friend letting her leech his body heat all night long. As if sensing what was going on, Robin’s mother gave a loud exaggerated yawn.

“Alright, love. It’s getting pretty late, and I know you two were studying, so I’m going to let you go now, okay?” Her mother said.

“Okay,” Robin said, suppressing her own real yawn.

“Remember our rule though. I call on Thursdays at 7:30, and you?”

“Answer the phone,” Robin replied. This was routine, easy, normal. This was how they ended every phone call, with Olivia reminding Robin, as though her daughter had somehow forgotten in the last seven days.

Usually it annoyed her. Tonight she loved it.

“That’s right,” She said. Robin could just see her nodding her head as if she had just won a great battle.

“I love you, little bird,” Her mother cooed, and Robin smiled.

“I love you too mom,”

The words came easy. For years and years it had been so hard. Hard to say it back, hard to mean it when she had been so sure that it wouldn't be true for much longer. But now, Robin could tell her mother that she loved her as much as possible, and she was going to.

#Steve harrington #robin Buckley #robin Buckleys parents #robin Buckleys mother #Steve harringtons mother #platonic stobin #platonic soulmates stobin #platonic soulmates Steve and robin #qpr stobin #I thought that after all the angst #and the mayhem of the last few days #we could use a little light and a little love :')))))#Liam speaks up #Writing(withacapitalW)

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powerofelvis · 1 year

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Treat Me Nice

Pairing: Elvis Presley x f!reader

Word Count: 3.2K

Summary: Elvis throws you a birthday party at Graceland, but you aren't in a good mood to celebrate. He shows you what happens when you don't act appreciative enough.

Warnings: slight angst, smut, oral (m.receiving), unprotected sex, degradation, use of the word 'cum slut' and 'slut', a sprinkle of fluff

A/N: This is a request for my darling @cryingabtab. I hope that you enjoy this fic, Faith! As always, I hope everyone enjoys a little smut with Elvis ;)

prompts.

You knew you were in for it. You were never the best with alcohol and yet, you were chugging down glasses of bourbon like it was water. Elvis threw a little party for you, to celebrate your upcoming birthday at Graceland. Although you begged him to only have a small gathering for you and your family, Elvis knew that he couldn’t do that. So, as people piled into the house with gifts and well wishes, you were over in the corner wallowing away your grief of turning another year older at the kitchen’s bar. Elvis would come over to you on multiple occasions, trying to move you from the spot that you were babysitting to at least conversate with the guests that he invited. You could tell he was becoming impatient with you; because each time that he came back over to where you were sitting, the darker his face would become.

“How many times do I have to tell ya to get off of your ass and come talk to the guests? Goddamnit, Satnin. You’re unbelievable.” You rolled your eyes at his words, downing the last glass of the brown liquor before pushing yourself off of the bar. You could barely keep your footing, holding yourself up with the help of the wall beside you. Elvis shook his head, wrapping his arm around your waist as he kept you steady, leading you over to a group of people that you couldn’t make out. The fuzziness behind your eyes was present, your cheeks red as you giggled as you pulled Sandy, Jerry’s wife, into a hug. “Hiya Sandy, it’s been a while.” You slurred, looking over at Elvis as his jaw tensed at your behavior.

“I’m sorry for Y/N’s behavior, she’s a bit intoxicated.” Elvis laughed, his hand squeezing your waist as a warning to get your act together. You let out a silent moan, noticing Red passing by with a tray of clear alcohol. You slyly grabbed a glass, holding it against yourself as you continued your conversation with Sandy and Joanie. You had managed to finally stand up on your own, giggling and gossiping about the boys and their shenanigans when they were on the road. As the night went on, you got more inebriated, still distressed that you were growing old. Elvis checked on you on more than one occasion, giving his opinion on how much you were consuming, but you would counter with slick comments about how he wanted you to have a good time so you were doing so. “Watch it, mama. I can take a lot of things, but your smart mouth is not one of them.”

“Oh, my apologies, Mister Presley. I’ll try to keep my mouth shut so I don’t embarrass you.” You stuck out your tongue, snorting through your nose as you could see that he was beginning to get fed up with the way you were acting. As the party went on, you tried to behave as Elvis had warned you to do, but your mood had soured once the cake was in front of you. The tune of Happy Birthday had settled deep in your mind that this would be another year closer to becoming old. True, you should be grateful that you were alive and well, but you were deathly afraid of growing older. Growing older would bring in gray hairs, wrinkles, and even worse, possibly leaving Elvis behind. This along with the issues that you had been having with Elvis and his wandering eye turned you to the bottle.

The party continued on with you sitting right back where you were, sitting at the bar as you eyed the people around you who were seemingly having a better time than you were. It was long after midnight when the last guest decided to leave, leaving you alone with Elvis as his grandmother had returned to her room but not before wishing you happy birthday once more. Elvis shut the front door to the house, turning around to face you with a look of anger that graced his beautiful features. You knew you had done it, you were in trouble but you could care less. “Goddamnit, Satnin. You just had to be the downer of the party, didn’t ya?” He stalked over to you, slamming his hand on the counter. You jumped, turning to face him as you returned his glare. “I didn’t want this party to begin with, Elvis. I told you that I would be fine with only inviting close friends and having the family over. You’re the one who wanted to invite people that I don’t even know.”

“Don’t you turn this around on me, Y/N. I wanted to do something nice for ya, but once again, you’re being an ungrateful fuckin’ brat. I don’t even know why I try to please ya, it’s not like you would have cared anyhow.” You could tell that he was fed up with you, but the anger in his eyes sent shivers down your spine. You loved him; you knew that he was only upset because he knew that you didn’t enjoy the party, but you also knew he was upset that you had embarrassed him in front of his friends. You didn’t know what came over you, but you found yourself standing up from the bar stool, brushing past him as you made your way up the stairs. You didn’t make it far though, Elvis followed behind you as he grabbed your arm to pin you against the wall. “I’m not done talkin’, baby. You know better than to walk away from me when I’m speakin’ to ya.”

You let out a groan, your eyes fluttering up to him as he huffed from his long stride to catch up with you. “Well, I don’t have anything else to say to you, Elvis. It’s better to just go to sleep and maybe, I’ll be sober enough to continue this conversation in the morning.” He placed his hand next to your head, his cobalt blues turning dark as he eyed you intensely. You were beyond turned on now, moving your hands from your side before placing them on his shoulders. You let out a moan, running your fingers down his clenched jaw, pressing your lips to his in a heated kiss. He pushed you away, taking your hands away from him as he held them above your head. “I decided that I don’t need to go to bed, I rather have you inside of me.” You whispered as you tried to lean into him again. “No, I don’t think you deserve my cock. What the fuck do you think ya did to deserve me inside ya? I never pegged ya for a horny drunk, baby.”

“Well, for starters, there’s nothing hotter than seeing you all riled up because I talked back to you. Secondly, it’s my birthday. I think I deserve a bit more than an argument, right?” Your knee lifted up to press against his crotch, smirking as he groaned from the pressure that you were putting on his cock. He softly roared, scooping you up in his arms as he carried you bridal style up to his bedroom. He pushed the door open, shutting it as quickly as he could with his foot as he threw you down on the bed. You giggled, scooting back on the bed as you pushed up your dress over your hips. You weren’t wearing panties, eliciting a groan from Elvis as he stalked over to you. “Those aren’t good enough explanations as to why I should fuck ya. I’ll give you what you want, but you’re gonna keep your fuckin’ mouth shut. Do ya understand?” You nodded your head, pulling your dress over your head before throwing it over the side of the bed. “You’ve been a naughty little girl, baby. I don’t appreciate ya embarrassing me in front of our guests. Since ya want to be fucked, I’ll fuck ya just the way ya like it.”

He unbuckled his belt, his darkened eyes watching you as you hungrily watched him. “You’re gonna suck my cock, better yet, I’m gonna fuck your mouth. It’s much better than hearing ya fuckin’ yappin’ and being a smart ass.” He unzipped his zipper before pulling his trousers down to his ankles, grumbling under his breath about how disrespectful you were being. “Come here, mama. Don’t make me have to come get ya, I’ll really be pissed then.” You crawled over to him, laying down on the bed while your head hung off of the side of the bed. He laced his fingers into your hair, tugging you closer as he slid his cock in between your lips. You moaned, holding on to his thighs as you began sucking him off. “Fuck, you’re such a fuckin’ slut. You think you can just talk shit to me and I’ll give ya what ya want? You’re fuckin’ wrong, sweetheart.”

At that moment, he thrusted his hips further, the tip of his cock pressing against the back of the throat. You gagged around him, digging your nails into his thighs. “Relax your throat, baby. I don’t even have my whole cock in your mouth and you’re already strugglin’. How pathetic.” He taunted, pushing more of his cock into your mouth. You tried to relax, but it felt as if you couldn’t breathe. You tapped his thigh, begging him to ease up on you. “Oh no, don’t tell me that you’ve had enough already, you little whore? What happened to deserving my cock because it’s your birthday? It looks like ya don’t deserve shit.” He spat as he pulled his cock from your mouth, giving you enough oxygen to pass through your lungs. He tugged your head up to look at him, shaking his head disapprovingly before he slammed his hips forward again into your mouth.

“Take my fuckin’ cock, you slut. If ya don’t suck it the way that I want it, I’m gonna really punish you.” He groaned, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat once again. You gagged around his cock, tears burning at the corner of your eyes as you gripped the sheets. You took a breath through your nose, relaxing your throat the way that he asked you to earlier. “Hm, you can follow directions. Here I thought you were a fuckin’ smart mouthed woman who is stupid when she gets my cock.” He laughed out as his hips slammed against your mouth, his balls slapping your chin. Pools of saliva poured from the corner of your lips, dripping on the bed as you struggled to take all that he gave you. His fingers were harshly tugging at your hair, so much so, you were sure that he would snatch patches of hair out of your scalp.

You continued sucking his cock, the slurping noises soon replacing the gagging as he continued fucking into your mouth. “Fuck, that’s it, mama. Fuckin’ suck that cock like you deserve it. You’re such a good cock sleeve for me.” The way that he was speaking to you turned you on more than you could have ever imagined, eliciting moans from your chest as his cock dug deeper into your throat. Your face was burning with desire, tears sliding down your cheeks as it mixed with the spit that was pouring out of your mouth. Elvis pulled his cock from your mouth, replacing it with his fingers that were once in your hair. “Suck on my fingers, slut. There ya go.” He shoved his long fingers into your throat, earning a gag from you. His rings clattered on your teeth as he eyed you hungrily. “So here’s what I’m about to do to ya, baby. I’m gonna fuck ya until you’re begging for me to stop. But since ya loved runnin’ your mouth tonight, I ain't gonna ease up.”

You nodded your head as he pulled his fingers from your mouth before wrapping his hand around your throat. He pushed you down on the bed, crawling on top of you before lining his cock up against your entrance. He pushed his cock into you, burying himself to the hilt. You let out a low moan, your eyes locked to his dark eyes as you clenched around him. “Fuck, don’t fuckin’ do that. You’re making it hard for me to keep myself together.” He warned you as his hips snapped against you. You let out a whine, his hand squeezing around your throat as he began fucking you ruthlessly. “Look at that, my little slut takes me so well.” He smirked as he rutted on top of you. You felt as if your soul left your body with each thrust that he made, your tits bouncing up into your chin as he fucked you. He removed his hand from around your throat, wrapping one of his hands around your leg as he lifted it up on his shoulder.

“You enjoyed back talkin’ me, didn’t ya, mama? Well, I’m gonna show ya what happens to smart mouths like you.” After he said those words, his cock pushed deeper into you, hitting your cervix. You cried out in pleasure, tilting your head back at your eyes rolled into your head. Elvis’ hand slapped against your face before he gripped your chin. “Fuckin’ look at me when I’m talkin’ to ya. I’m not gonna tell ya again.” He roared out, his jaw clenching as he angrily fucked into you. “You’re such a fuckin’ slut, but you’re my slut. You’re always gonna be my fuckin’ cum slut. Say it.” You whimpered, opening your mouth as you repeated the words that he wanted you to say. “I’m your cum slut, daddy. Please.” You begged as your eyes continued being crossed into your head. “Open those fuckin’ eyes and look at me. If ya don’t follow what I’m sayin’, I’m gonna make you listen.” He whispered into your ear.

Not wanting to upset him further, you opened your eyes to look up at him. “There’s my good little cum slut. Look at my fuckin’ cock splitting ya open. Look at it, mama.” Your eyes trailed down his body before landing on his cock that was pushing into you. He filled you entirely, sending shivers through your body as he hit every spot possible. Your stomach began pulling, the coil threatening to snap if he continued his assault on you. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum daddy. Please let me cum.” He shook his head, glaring down at you before he stopped his movements. “No, you’re gonna fuckin’ cum with me. Not before me or after me. With me.” You whined as you forced yourself to hold out, the pressure in your stomach disappearing, taking your orgasm with it. At that point, you were overstimulated. The feeling of his cock rubbing against your walls made your body shiver. Your hands held onto the sheets so tight that your fingers turned white.

His hips began pounding inside of you again, moans and grunts passing his lips as he leaned down to you. Your leg that was against his shoulder bent backwards against your chest, the burning sensation filled your body with need as you craved more of him inside of you. “Fuck, daddy. Please, I can’t take it anymore. I need to cum.” You begged, tears falling down your cheeks once again. “Aw, my pathetic little girl can’t take my cock hm? Too fuckin’ bad. I’m not done with ya.” He slammed his hips harder against you, letting you know that he was running the show. Elvis was driving you insane and he knew that he was, smirking down at you as he continued to assault your pussy with his cock. “When I’m done, you’re gonna know that I’m the one running the show. Not you.” He groaned as his thumb rubbed circles on your clit, his cock still splitting you open.

“Fuckin’ take this cock, baby! Fuck, you’re such a good little girl.” He groaned, his hips sputtering as he tried to hold himself together. You could tell that he was close, mentally praising God that he was so that you could finally cum. His thumb sped up on your clit, the pressure in your stomach returning as he pounded into you. “Oh fuck, baby. I’m gonna cum. Cum with me, baby.” You nodded your head as the coil in your stomach started pulling, the pleasure becoming too overwhelming as your orgasm began crashing over you. Spurts of your juices shot out of you, coating his pelvic area and the bottom of his stomach. You screamed out, your fingers gripping the sheets so tight that you were afraid that they would break. He grunted as his cum coated your walls, his body shivering on top of you. You moaned out from the warm feeling of him filling you, your tear-filled eyes stared up at your lover with such love as he stared back at you.

“Fuck, thank you baby.” You uttered as you pushed your lips to his softly. “You’re welcome, baby. I’m glad that I could give you a wonderful birthday present.” He laughed softly as he pulled out of you, little whimpers passing your lips as the stimulation was still overwhelming for you. You hissed as his cock left you, pulling your leg that was now numb from his shoulder. “Happy birthday, baby. I hope you know that I didn’t mean any of the words that I said earlier, baby. I was just upset, you looked as if you didn’t enjoy the party.” He laid down next to you, pulling you into his arms. “I did enjoy the party, I’m just not looking forward to getting old.” You giggled, laying your head on his chest. The beating of his heart reassured you though, you were so lucky to have him in your life.

“Baby, you’ll still be beautiful as you are now. I’m not going anywhere, you’re still gonna be my woman until the day that we both leave this earth.” You nodded your head as your fingers rubbed circles on his chest, the hairs bouncing with each circle that rubbed against it. “I guess I can look forward to getting old as long as I have you to fuck me as good as you did tonight.” You let out a breathy laugh as he looked down at you. “Oh baby, I’ll fuck you however you want me to. Even when my body is worn and tired, nothin’ to worry about.” You both got silent, before you picked your head up from his chest. “I’m sorry for being ungrateful, honey. Thank you for making my birthday worth celebrating.”

Elvis wrapped his arms around you again, pulling you into a kiss before shutting his eyes. “Every day with you is worth celebrating, honey. But, don’t think that the celebration is over. I still have some things up my sleeve.” He chuckled as he pulled you closer to him. The sound of his heartbeat and his soft breathing were enough to make you fall asleep in his arms. The thoughts of his promises sent excitement through your body, wanting nothing more than to continue on with the celebrations with him leading the way.

Taglist: @lindszeppelin @loving-elvis @lovininapinkcadillac @softsatnin @plasticfantasticl0ver @steph-speaks @missmaywemeetagain @oh-my-front-door @rainydayz101 @prayerstopresley @marriedtopresley @presleysdarling @elvis-bucket-hat @rosaminny @flwrs4aust @flowersofcement @wonka-gifs @woundmetender @cryingabtab @ab4eva @elvisabutler @austinsmutler @literally-just-elvis-fics @crash-and-cure @venus-haze @foreverdolly @stitchattacks @thatbanditqueen @succsessions @samfangirls @burninlovebutler @luluthesandgoose @elvisshowusyourpelvis @ophelia-writes-stuff @precious-little-scoundrel @dre6ming @dkayfixates @arianatheangel-girl @rjmartin11 @kaitaesupremacy @presleyenterprise @generoustreemystic @mixtapemasterjipc @goldenpresley @iloveaustinelvis @coolgirl462 @dumpsterhippie @kendralavon7 @18lkpeters

#elvis presley #elvis 2022 #elvis presley x reader #elvis #daisy’s 1k celebration 🎉#daisy writes

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maniculum · 3 months

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Whenever "Christian Fiction" shows up in the used bookstore, I find myself morbidly curious about the people who read and write this stuff.

The text from the image is below, with some of my comments in brackets. (The book is "Pierced By a Sword" by Bud Macfarlane Jr., by the way.)

Back cover:

A novel that will take you to a future that is as current as today's headlines. [Kind of a disappointing future if the best thing you can say about it is "it's basically the present".] Nathan Payne: A troubled young securities broker from Chicago. [Unless the thing he's troubled about is the ethics of the finance industry, I think I hate this guy already.] Will Nathan find the faith to win the love of Joanie Wheat -- a woman of deep Catholic convictions? Becky Macadam: A stunningly beautiful young woman, away from the faith since childhood, alone and pregnant in the heartless city of Chicago. Father Chet Sullivan: A fast-talking young priest from New Jersey with a penchant for getting into trouble. [He's not a regular priest, he's a cool priest.] Tom Wheat: The foremost U.S. expert on Marian Apparitions, desperately trying to warn the world about The Coming Tribulations. Can Wheat reach the country in time? Lee Washington: A drug dealer from Cleveland, living in the fast lane in L.A. [I am not optimistic about how this character is going to be portrayed in the book, so good thing I'm not reading it.] Will he keep his appointment with Our Lady? This sweeping new novel is set against the backdrop of historical and present-day Marian Apparitions. [I thought it was taking us to a future?] Join these unforgettable characters as their lives intertwine in a Divine Plan during the Great Tribulations! Pierced By A Sword will take you over the border between heaven & earth! Discover a new world. Change your life forever.

Review page:

Real People Love This Book… [I know that when I'm presenting reviews, I make sure to reassure the reader that they're from "real people"; that's how you know they're genuine.] "It moved me so much that I wept. I was so excited I took it downstairs to read certain passages to my mom and dad! Then I urged my best friend to read it. The themes come right out of my own life. I love it!" -- Molly Winters, Lake Bluff, IL, College Student "I really got into Nathan Payne -- he's such a great character that I couldn't wait to find out what happened to him next. I feel like I knoe the guy personally -- Nathan and the others remind me of real people I know." -- Martin Maher, Tully, NY, Financial Professional "I don't read many novels and I had low expectations. All I can say now is that I couldn't put it down. It had me turning the pages. It really moves fast. It's great!" -- Tom Baugh, Akron, OH, Businessman & Father "The passage where Father Chet and Becky Macadam talk about celibacy is one of the most insightful that I've ever read on the subject -- all this interwoven into a story with a great plot. I'm very excited about this book!" -- Eileen Biehl, Westlake, OH, Mother & Writer "The climax of the book was creative and mystical, and really gave me food for thought regarding my own life. Bud Macfarlane has a real gift for dialog and characterization." -- John Madigan, Chicago, IL, Father & Lawyer [Seriously, these don't sound like responses from "real people", right?]

#unearthed in the used bookstore

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spacerose747 · 2 months

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Now here friends.. Is a bunch of pics of Joey being very underwhelmed meeting other rockstars

Starting with (drum roll)

Nikki Sixx

Joey looks tired and is hunched in on himself was probably mumbling back at the excitable Crüe member

Next is Steven Tyler (And a fan)

First of all, Joey towers them both 🤣. Second, he looks very sick of being where they were in that moment. Very ready to knock out for a few hours

Next, Iggy Pop! One of his idols!

While he looks underwhelmed here the expression is mostly panic. He's standing tall, arms at his sides hidden in his hair a little bit... He is anxious here!!

Now Slash (and presumably a fan?? Not sure)

Slash is standing in an outward stance, leaned up against the middle man while Joey, holding his guitar is hunched in on himself slightly, to most likely avoid having to back up to fit in the shot. Joey, holding onto his guitar tightly is likely trying to resist moving in some way!

Then, Joan Jett

While Joanie looks very excited, Joey seems very unhappy with the camera, very nervous about it. He's held onto Joan with a soft grip, eager to get her away from his vicinity, his leg is raised and blurred a bit as if he'd been tapping it rhythmically. His drink is steadied against his leg as well, he was clearly afraid of losing the grip on it.

Next Michael Monroe (and Friends?)

Joey's social battery is clearly spent. While Mike and friends are excitable and probably tipsy! Joey's body language, while presenting an outward presence is very tense. His shoulders are tight, his arms flesh to his body. He clearly prefers commanding crowds, not being in them!

He's still adorable though so 🤭

#joey ramone #the ramones #nikki sixx #steven tyler #iggy pop #joan jett #michael monroe #slash gnr

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sanguinifex · 7 months

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Y’know the “classic children’s literature” canon is largely pretty fucked up.

C.S. Lewis was racist and homophobic and sexist, not to mention Extremely Christian and trying to convert you (seriously, there are exactly 2 books where the bad guys aren’t women or Muslims by another name, and one of those 2 doesn’t even have an antagonist once Eustace gets un-dragoned)

Roald Dahl was notoriously antisemitic and just kind of misogynistic in general. Keeps trying to sell the idea that ugly people are inherently evil and pretty people are inherently good. Also like the Oompa Loompas are a) canonically black in the books and b) slave labor, and this is promoted as positive? Charlie’s dad would’ve had a job if Wonka hadn’t been literally stealing people to avoid paying workers. Also, like, the nerve of leaving a chocolate factory to a random kid who knows nothing about chocolate except it tastes good, when probably at least a dozen of the Oompa Loompas are qualified to run the place. Like, Dahl is great at giving people nightmares, but the inherent assumptions begin the worlds he builds are not something I want to give to a 10-year-old and tell them it’s Great Literature and something to emulate, the way I was. (Also, I was actually 8, come to think of it.)

JKR. Well. Besides the TERFery and racism/antisemitism. There’s just a complete disregard for bodily autonomy that’s so present in her work that it becomes obvious it’s part of how she views the world? Like, it’s supposed to be a funny joke to slip someone a potion that turns them into a canary. Admittedly the delivery of that line was 109% but like. What if he’d got stuck like that? You can’t just transmogrify people like that without asking them. You also shouldn’t do the “muggle” equivalent like putting Nair in someone’s shampoo. That’s assault, Joanie. I think this also feeds into her transphobia, because she just doesn’t seem to have anything that would hold her back from swapping someone’s gender for giggles if she were able to. It’s not just the HP series, either, it’s her works aimed at adults as well. Like, she’d be the type to barge into the bathroom while you’re peeing and then get offended when you’re upset by this because “We’re all girls here.” But oh it’s a modern classic and you have to read it to understand nerd culture…well, you could make that argument 10 years ago but it’s a bit less solid in 2023. I wouldn’t ban a kid from reading it, but I wouldn’t give them a box set. If they brought it home from the library I’d give a quick talk that I’m not mad at them for reading it but they should be aware that the author is a jerk.

Stephanie Meyer: Completely inescapable if you were a tween girl anywhere between 2005 and 2010. You had to plough through 4 doorstoppers of toxic Mormon heterosexuality just to understand what anyone was talking about. Like, I think it should be shelved with a pamphlet about healthy vs unhealthy relationships in it. Also, like, Meyer profited off the names of Native people and didn’t give them a cent. Also Bella you need a vampire like a fish needs a bicycle, just take some vitamin D supplements and you’ll get over him

Again, I’m not saying “don’t read these books.” Many of them are well-written and have historic and sociological and literary value. This post is about how we tell children that these demonstrably bigoted authors, whose bigotry shines through in their writing because they’re too unaware of it to file it down, that these are Great Writers and suitable to emulate. It’s not just that bigotry could be absored by young readers, it’s also that ir build a false foundation that will crumble under literary analysis, creating a life of doubting one’s own word choices, among other problems!

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merlin-wolfgang-trades-hale · 10 months

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Meri, would you like to play that Tumblr game? If no - ok! 🙂 If yes, then: Mary 🙂

Sexuality Headcanon: High libido pansexual. This has a lot to do with the McGarrett family dynamic that happens. Mary is the baby and she was young when Doris "died". John being a product of that time really wasn't the best dad in a lot of ways but at least with Steve...he was a man. With Mary? Her puberty probably scared him the most and any talks if there were any probably had the opposite effect he wanted. The McGarretts are...emotionally guarded...even among themselves. They wanted to be strong for each other but that built walls even within the home. When Mary needed attention, as any child would and does, she didn't get any...unless she was acting out. How would she then get her dads and her big brother's attention? Wrong crowds and stuff and add it with the typical teenage hormones...I feel she explored that. With a variety of colorful characters. She was lonely and even if the relationships weren't strong enough to last before being sent away she searched for them because she wasn't getting the attention she wanted at home. Gender Headcanon: She/They. She grew up in a masculine dominated house hold. I think she was a tomboy that kept up with Steve and his friends well enough...and as she got older she also embraced her femininity but sometimes struggled with feeling womanly enough. In those moments they/them fits and carries her.

A ship I have with said character: Through talks and chats with @cowandcalf I see her with Kawika. It's really just based on the talks we've had. A BROTP I have with said character: Obviously I adore episodes with her and Steve. Getting an insight to their dynamic and how they rebonded after the gap and despite always being siblings becoming friends again. I do think she and Eric would have a fun friendship and they just hang out and get wasted sharing McGarrett and Williams family secrets.

A NOTP I have with said character: I really don't have one but that's really just because of how limited time we see her. A random headcanon: She sent Steve care packages while he was deployed. Maybe they didn't talk as much and he mostly went to see her physically when he needed to bail her out but I feel like they were trauma bonded enough that even if it's just a jar of Steve's favorite peanut butter or snack he'd share with her on those stressful nights as kids when their dad was out for a case and should have been home but wasn't and they were both silently worried about being orphans and he tried to cheer her up by sharing with her his favorite snack he'd been waiting to eat. Was their relationship strained? Sure, but I hate thinking of them as strangers so I like to believe he sent her post cards from every place he was deployed and she sent him care packages that reminded him he wasn't alone. General Opinion over said character: I think she's really fun. I wish we'd had more of her. Even if she couldn't be on screen, Steve mentioning any updates Mary would send him about Joanie and herself would have been so great...she did have the 'little sister' vibe amped up to 11 so as an older sibling myself could see the 'annoying' part but it's for the plot so...I wish we had a lot more of her. One of my favorite bit of McDanno fanart is Mary leaving a copy of the gay Kamasutra as a present to Steve because she's tired of him fussing about and not being with Danny already.

#tumblr game #Thank you! This was fun! <3 #Mary Ann McGarrett #headcanons

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haltandcatchfiretothemax · 2 months

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FEMSLASH FEBRUARY 2024 #15: In which Cameron and Donna give a presentation

[CN: food/cooking mention] . . When they were asked to be the keynote speakers at an inaugural conference for marginalized groups in tech at a large and prestigious research university, Cameron agreed on the condition that Donna do most of the talking. “I will gladly stand up there with you and chime in where necessary,” she’d said, while stirring a nearly ready risotto, “but you’re better at this sort of thing, so it should mostly be you.” Donna didn’t want Cameron to be sidelined, but reluctantly agreed to this.

Cameron convinced Donna to be inspired by her own poolside speech from the night Cameron was supposed to leave California indefinitely, to focus on how partnerships evolve over time, and make the work worthwhile even when they eventually dissolve. Eager to contribute equally, she also made the slide show to go with their remarks.

The slide show began with childhood photos of each of them, and their remarks started with short biographies of the both of them. Donna described her upbringing in 1960s Dallas, and her awkward teen years, and her discovery of computer engineering. She told the audience that Cameron wanted her to tell them that she was a former beauty pageant winner (she had used her Little Miss Perfect portrait in the slide show), and that she had called Donna a bitch the first time they’d worked together, all to appreciative laughter from the audience. After that, Donna talked the audience through decades of their careers, while Cameron clicked the slide show through photos from Cardiff, COMDEX, Mutiny, AGGEK, Atari, Symphonic, Comet and Phoenix. After explaining her personal belief that partnership is about finding a new project to work on, in both our professional and personal lives, she and Cameron shared a short, final montage of photos from outside the office - pictures of them, and also Haley and Joanie, and Gordon, and J0e, and Bos, and Diane and Risa and Tanya and Dr. Katie Herman and Lev and Yo-yo and their families, at barbecues and camp grounds and birthday parties and graduations, and one final photo of Cameron and Donna on their wedding day. Cameron found herself tearing up over it, even though she’d spent hours assembling it.

After which Donna made her concluding remarks: “Being a woman in STEMS is hard. I know. It sucks. Being queer in tech, and feeling like you should be hiding something about yourself is hard. I can’t imagine what it’s like to be a scientist of color, and to see so few people who look like you and understand where you come from every day at a job that you love, where you’re trying to build something for people. But you are here. You’re here to work, and you’re also here to live, and I know that you can do this. “You won’t necessarily get to have it all, and you might not even want it all. But if you are very lucky, and you work very hard, you can get what you need.” The end of their presentation was met with a standing ovation and riotous applause, which was followed by a brief q and a.

Most of the ‘q’s were from young women, who asked Donna and Cameron which of their accomplishments they were most proud of, what they would do differently, and what new policies and practices they thought might be most helpful for young software and hardware developers with limited resources. The whole thing was a lot more pleasant than Cameron had expected, until the next to last question.

Alexa Vonn came up to the microphone. “My question is for Cameron.”

“Hello, Alexa,” Cameron deadpanned.

“Do you think that you’re easy to work with?” Alexa asked.

Cameron fought the urge to burst out into hysterical, self-conscious laughter. “No.” The audience laughed again. “That’s why I’ve worked with Donna for most of my life. She’s very aware of my limitations and where I struggle to communicate.”

“Okay,” Alexa said, “then my question for Donna is, do you actually like working with Cameron?”

Donna grinned at her. “Honestly? I’ve loved every minute of it.”

Alexa pressed, “Even with all of the ‘ups and downs’ you glossed over in your presentation? The two of you were famously estranged for many years, weren’t you?”

“‘Famously’ feels like an overstatement,” Cameron said.

“How did you come back from that?” Alexa asked.

With a hint of irritation in her voice, Donna said, “Well, you start talking. Maybe because something terrible happens, like your ex-husband dies suddenly and tragically young. And you realize that some things are more important than petty grudges. So you keep talking. Does that answer your question?”

Before Alexa could answer, Donna said, “Great! It was very nice to see you Alexa, thank you for your questions. I’m sorry that you and Cameron didn’t get to fully realize the project you worked on, it sounded really interesting.”

After the final question (“favorite app?”), Cameron and Donna went into the ladies’ room for a few minutes. Donna went over to the sinks, put her hands on the counter, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath.

Cameron waited for a second, and then said, “So that mostly went really well, right?”

Without opening her eyes, Donna snorted, but didn’t say anything. She took another deep breath.

“The way you shut Alexa down? Hot.” Leaning against the wall, Cameron said, “I kind of like it when you’re a bitch.”

Donna grinned at Cameron, an arched an eyebrow suggestively.

“Still,” Cameron frowned. “We kinda deserved that after some of the shit we’ve pulled at other people’s presentations, huh?”

Donna looked over at Cameron, and then started to laugh, a real, deep belly laugh. The sound of it made Cameron smile, and think, there’s literally nothing better than this.

#imagining a slide show of photos from mutiny and comet and phoenix set to 'what was i made for' and getting V EMOTIONAL #headcanon that they eventually become friends with alexa tho!#femslash february #femslash feb 2024 #fan fiction #cameron howe #donna clark #donna emerson

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grandmaster-anne · 1 year

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7 September 2022 The Princess Royal presented The Queen's Award for Voluntary Service to Broadford and Strath Community Company, Camping Skye, Broadford, Isle of Skye, and was received by Her Majesty's Lord-Lieutenant of Ross and Cromarty (Mrs. Joanie Whiteford). Her Royal Highness later visited Raasay Primary School, School Park, Isle of Raasay, Kyle, and was received by Mr. Andrew Townsend (Deputy Lieutenant of Ross and Cromarty). 📸: Lord Lieutenant of Ross and Cromarty

#the date 🥹#i've posted some photos from this visit before but missed these ones #princess anne #princess royal #annegagements

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talkingtea · 1 year

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What irks me about Eric (well one of the things because there's like a million) is the lack of attention to details. Mentioning something from earlier seasons, referencing people like Wally and Joanie (whatever Ceciles oldest child's name is) etc. I'd prefer that to rewriting history, a cute little line like "I talked to Wally and he said xyz and he got the photos we sent him" would be so sweet but instead it's like if the character isn't present they're forgotten about.

Also, for it to be the final season it doesn't really feel like it but maybe I'm judging it too soon.

One, he’s a lazy writer. Two, he doesn’t like referencing past events that he didn’t have a hand in creating. Three, and most importantly, he sucks.

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shares-a-vest · 4 months

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@steddiemas Day 19: Steddie as Dads (Trope Tuesday)

wc: 1.4k | Rated: T for suggestive language and flirtatious banter | cw: Eddie is trans in my Joanie Munson AU and gave birth to Joanie. This fic contains one mention of pregnancy and the possibility of having a baby.

Tags: Steddie Dads, Trans Eddie Munson, Growing Family, Getting Interrupted, Christmas Night, Christmas Presents, Kid Fic

Note: I knew Joanie's Furby would have to make a reappearance after I wrote THIS drabble for Black Friday. Also, I started drafting this fic for Day 3 (Needing to be Quiet) but it ran away from me so it has aspects of that prompt too.

Christmas Night, 1998

“Okay…” Eddie sing-songs, stirring Steve from his very sleepy post-Christmas state on the couch, “Our precious bean is asleep… The old man is in a food-induced coma…”

He skips to the couch and flops down, mussing their makeshift bedding.

“Huh?” Steve mumbles, looking up to find a mischievous grin painted across his partner’s face.

He should have known Eddie was up to something with their sleeping arrangements. He had insisted they spend Christmas Night on Wayne’s couch, giving up the bed in Eddie’s old room to Joanie for the evening.

As Eddie continues grinning like an idiot – and adds a wiggling, suggestive brow for good measure – Steve attempts to smooth out their blankets. He shimmies upright, yawning as he yanks at the corner of the blanket trapped beneath Eddie’s ass.

“Nope!” Eddie says, chopping his hand through the air, “No yawning, sugarplum.”

He dives for the remote teetering on the edge of the coffee table and points it at the television, reducing It’s a Wonderful Life to a quickly fading speck in the middle of the screen.

“Jimmy Stewart, off!” he declares, voice high and nasally in mock impersonation as he tosses the remote to the side.

With the living room lit only by the lights of Wayne’s Christmas tree (decorated the moment they arrived with Joanie), Steve feels his eyes droop.

He scrubs a hand down his tired face, his unstyled hair flopping forward as he does so. Eddie is soon on him, combing it back before picking at individual strands like a monkey looking for fleas.

“How are you not tired?” Steve whines, dipping his head to avoid more prodding.

But Eddie then reaches to remove his glasses.

“Christmas adrenaline, sweetheart,” he explains, carefully folding the glasses and setting them on the coffee table within reach.

Eddie leans back again, elbow propped on the couch, his chin resting against his hand enough that it squishes up his cheek.

“The Furby was a hit,” he continues, his teasing dimples out on full display now.

“Please don’t talk about it,” Steve grumbles, sinking into the couch at the thought of Joanie’s newest toy, now out of the box and operational, ready to wreak havoc.

He can only imagine the reaction the cats will have to those soulless eyes when they get the retched thing back home…

“It’s cute,” Eddie shrugs, not at all innocently picking at the bottom hem of Steve’s flannel button-up, a Munson family relic turned pyjama top.

“It looks like a Gremlin,” he deadpans, “Ready to chew our faces off with that weird robot beak.”

He hopes his frown will also remind Eddie that if said demon-spawn does rise up against them, he can be the one fully responsible for dealing with it. And, now that he thinks about it, Steve is sure Eddie allowing their daughter to watch Gremlins at Halloween surely contributed to her desire to obtain this year’s latest kids' craze.

As they glare at each other, Steve holds onto some hope that Eddie (might) think back to that sleepless Halloween night when Joanie woke up at 2 am in tears and thought Ozzy’s prowling in the shadows was an evil after-midnight Mowgai.

“And where is it now?” Steve asks, breaking their seated stand-off.

“Tucked under the covers with our precious Joanie-Bear,” Eddie says, dramatically closing his eyes with a chirpy hum.

Again – Gremlin!

Steve bites his tongue as Eddie opens his eyes again, those big brown orbs now glowing with mirth like a warmer, more cherubic (but equally devilish) version of their five-year-old’s prized Christmas present.

Eddie clicks his tongue, looking everywhere but directly at Steve as he fidgets with a handful of blankets, entirely conspicuous as he buzzes with clear anticipation.

Steve puffs out a laugh and shakes his head. As always, Eddie has other plans for their ‘quiet’ night in…

“What?” Eddie asks, catching him staring.

He tilts his head to the side like a curious puppy.

“I love you,” Steve replies, leaning into his side.

He looks at the Christmas tree as Eddie presses a featherlight kiss to his forehead.

But the sweet moment only lasts for a split second because, in a flash, Eddie flips back their bedding, the blanket half falling to the floor between the couch and the coffee table.

“Good,” he grins, swinging his leg over Steve’s lap to straddle him, bracketing his legs, “Put a baby in me.”

“Ed!” Steve splutters, frowning as Eddie claps a hand over his mouth to shush him.

“Quiet!” he stage-whispers.

“You be quiet,” Steve warns, smiling into his palm.

“Made you perk up, didn’t it?” Eddie teases, leaning back to look him over and they both giggle away, “Anyway, come on, tick-tick. Christmas miracle, all that shit...”

He hurriedly jabs into his shoulder.

“Need I remind you we are in your uncle’s living room?”

“We’ve done worse,” Eddie offers, raking his eyes over him, “Remember Thanksgiving 1989 when – ”

“ – We boned in Claudia’s powder room,” he finishes, nodding.

Eddie looks off into the distance – or perhaps just right behind them to the wood panelling. He sighs, all wistful and longing.

“Yeah,” he hums, “And you knocked Claudia’s good handtowel straight off the rack and into the toilet…”

Steve leans back and cocks his chin. Well, if Eddie isn’t going to be subtle about it, either...

“Take your pants off, baby.”

Eddie beams and gives a two-finger salute. He quickly begins shuffling about, lifting onto his knees so he can hook his fingers under the waistband of his black sweatpants and pull them down. Meanwhile, Steve lifts their blanket up and out to protect Eddie’s modesty.

Or, at least that’s what he intends to do. Eddie only gets his pants down to his knees when Steve catches Wayne’s bedroom door opening.

Eddie notices too and yelps, plopping back down onto Steve’s lap – hard.

“Don’t mind me,” Wayne says, walking along with the stiff gait of a man with a bad hip (one that he still won’t do a thing about), “Just goin’ to take a leak. My bladder isn’t what it used to be. The older you get, the weaker your bladder...”

“Can you please stop saying the word ‘bladder’!” Eddie squawks over his shoulder, but his uncle simply waves him away.

“I didn’t see nothin’!” Wayne grumbles, “Carry on.”

Eddie rolls his eyes as they both watch in awkward silence as Wayne disappears into the bathroom, a light soon cascading from it.

“Christmas sucks!” Eddie dry-sobs, resting his chin on Steve’s shoulder with a disgruntled ‘hmph’.

“Just wait a minute,” he whispers, wrapping the blanket tight around Eddie’s partial nakedness.

Steve moves to give him a reassuring kiss but Eddie gasps, stilling on his lap as his eyes grow wide as saucers.

“What the fuck was that?” he gulps, his voice at full volume.

Eddie jolts again, his hands flying up to grip Steve’s shoulders tight, giving him no choice but to hold onto for dear life – even if he has no clue what’s got him so rattled…

“I can’t hear anything,” Steve says, looking around as his heart quickens.

Eddie scoffs and claws at a lock of his hair, just behind his right ear.

“God damn it, Stevie!” he spits, his head on a swivel as he whips it from side to side, likely looking for Steve’s abandoned hearing aids.

Steve is about to point to the end of the coffee table and thus ignite a squabbling match about it when Wayne reappears from the bathroom.

“What in the heck is that sound?” he grumbles.

“What is it?” Steve demands, looking between the other two.

“Some…” Wayne says, tilting his head in search of the sound, “Machine…”

Steve moves his head about to dodge Eddie as he squirms around in his lap, muttering what he can only assume is a string of expletives as he attempts to search for the noise too without straining his back or exposing himself.

“Damn it, Eddie,” Steve snaps, lifting his partner when he suspects he is about to get kneed straight in the goddamn balls.

“Jesus Christ, darlin’!” Wayne exclaims, bringing a hand to his chest.

Steve finally manages a glance over Eddie’s shoulder to find Joanie standing just inside the living room, her small frame silhouetted by the bathroom light.

She’s holding something with big eyes that appear to be blinking.

Now Steve can hear the robotic snoring sounds that have half the household scared out of their minds.

“Don’t worry, Pa,” Joanie says, stepping forward and holding up her Christmas present, “It’s just my Furby.”

More of Joanie Munson

#the furby WILL return...#i'm low-key super proud of my furby banner 😂#steddiemas #steddie fic #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #lily writes a fic #steddie as girl-dads #steddie dads #cw pregnancy #idk i've worked on this one a bunch and i'm still kinda not happy with it

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thebreakfastgenie · 10 months

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don't be a hero for the WIP Ask Game, please! 💜

Don't Be a Hero has the distinction of being mostly written by hand, something I never do. I wrote most of the story during a class I hated in college (and one day I looked up from it because our prof put on a video and I heard Alan Alda's voice). I eventually typed it up and I know how it ends, but I want to polish it and flesh it out, so I'm rewriting it a bit before I post!

Don't Be a Hero is set fairly early in the Santos administration. Santos is at a university, presenting an award to a professor who has done a lot of consulting work on counterterrorism. Sam is there, because he worked with the professor a lot (according to Isaac and Ishmael he's a terrorism expert) and so is Josh, as well as Donna and Helen, but not the kids.

A bomb goes off.

The target was the professor, who is Muslim. When I started this, there had been a recent Islamopobic hate crime at a university in the news.

This is kind of me rerunning What Kind of Day Has It Been/In the Shadow of Two Gunmen with Santos, but I've tried to make it its own. Josh and Donna are apart from the crowd, because Josh was on the phone with Lou back at the White House. Donna is mildly injured, and Josh helps her outside, and on the way he thinks he sees a girl trapped inside. While Donna is talking to the paramedics, Josh bolts back to look for the girl.

The fic basically follows what happens after that, everyone's reactions and the ensuing media circus. There's established Josh/Donna and Matt/Helen in the background, because it's canon compliant.

I've included a full scene under the cut, of the original 2015 psych class draft.

The herd of people exiting the building was beginning to thin, which made it easier for Josh to go the opposite direction. He knew what he had seen in one of the doorways. He couldn’t stop before because he had to help Donna get outside but she was safe no and there was someone trapped upstairs. He noticed the smoke thicken as he ran up the stairs.

The hallway he and Donna had left just minutes before was now heavily clouded with smoke. Most of the doorways were on fire. Three doors down was the one Josh remembered. The doorway was obstructed by a wall of flames and behind it, cowering on the ground, was a young woman.

She saw Josh at the same time he saw her.

“I can’t get out,” she yelled.

“Is there another door?” Josh yelled back. He thought he saw the girl nod through the haze of smoke. Se had long, dark hair and Josh was suddenly struck with a memory of another girl and another fire.

“It’s stuck, I think it’s blocked on the other side,” Joanie answered.

No, not Joanie.

“What’s your name?” he asked, but he couldn’t hear her answer. “I’m coming,” he added, racing down the hallway in search of an open doorway. He found one toward the far end of the corridor and ran through it without hesitation.

Josh found himself now in a labyrinth of small rooms filled with audio and video equipment and other things he didn’t recognize, or at least couldn’t identify through the rapidly expanding smoke. Most of the rooms connected to another on three or four sides, but most of the doors were no longer accessible. Josh picked a winding route in Joanie’s general direction.

He ran through one doorway after another until he came to a room with no way out. There was a door, held shut by a tangled mound of broken furniture, ceiling tiles, and things Josh couldn’t recognize that involved a lot of broken glass. He tried to call out, thinking she might be just in the next room, but his yell came out as nothing more than a cough. Instead of trying again to speak, he reached over the rubble and pounded once on the door, hard. After a few seconds he heard a knock back from the other side.

“I’m coming,” he called, “hold on,” and that time the words came out, but he had no way of knowing if they were loud enough for to hear him.

He clawed at the mound, carefully avoiding most of the glass, until he could reach the door handle. He pulled on it, but the door was still pinned. He returned to the pile, digging at it until he began to feel light-headed from oxygen deprivation. He desperately tried to door again and this time it opened an inch. This tiny hint of progress seemed to find a second wind within him, because he returned to the mound of debris with renewed strength. The next time he tried the door the force of the door itself cleared some of the remaining debris and it opened far enough for someone to squeeze through, especially if the person in question was a slender, dark-haired girl.

He offered her his hand to help her climb past the rest of the debris and finally there was nothing between them and the door.

“Go,” he whispered hoarsely, pushing her in front of him, but she didn’t go right away. She was still looking at him. “Behind you,” he explained.

She nodded then, and ran out the door. He’d left all the safe doors open, it would be easy to find their way out again. If only he could move. His body seemed to have finally remembered that he hadn’t been able to breathe properly for the last several minutes. His vision started going black around the edges and he could hear his own heartbeat, desperately trying to circulate what little oxygen remained. He didn’t feel himself fall to the ground, but he was there now. He could hear his parents crying as they embraced him because he was suddenly very small, and when he said Joanie’s name they squeezed him tighter. He thought she got out, this time, and then everything went black.

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goalofthecentury · 2 years

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letting you guys in on some of the madness in mine and cricket’s discord chat via this 3000 word thesis on the use of colour in boy; co-authored ofc by myself and cricket @twocarsonenight and far longer than it has any right to be but, well, if any film deserves it. anyway-

in boy, there are three main recurring colour motifs: red, blue, and green. all three represent different themes that are present throughout the whole film - red representing grief, both the grief directly for joanie as well as grief the characters feel throughout the narrative; blue representing hope, in contrast with the grief signified by red; and green representing potential, a key theme in boy and alamein’s relationship specifically. blue and red in particular seem to counterbalance each other, as the grief in the film is often based in the past and so hinges on characters looking backwards, whereas hope tends to be looking more towards the present or the future. the only real exception to this is the blue associated with joanie, although her blue motif specifically contrasts with the red representing grief. green as potential is mostly found in overarching visual metaphors, rather than in specific tableaus like the other colours.

the blue/green/red colour scheme is echoed both within the film and in the marketing; boy’s poster welcoming alamein home has each letter of “dad” written in blue, red, and green respectively, and one of the posters advertising the film writes “boy” in red/blue/green, in the same fashion.

red as grief

rocky’s birth; everything in the room is red/orange/beige. it’s the only time we see alamein in a warmer colour, and even boy watching from the hallway is in red. the overall palette of the shot is very warm, and almost leans into the hazy feel of a memory from early childhood. the only thing in frame to truly stray from the colour scheme is a blue robe, presumably belonging to joanie, hanging on the wardrobe door. it may be a moment of intense grief, but rocky has been born. this also emphasises rocky’s connection to joanie that we see throughout the film.

the pub fight; while the first michael jackson dance sequence is lit entirely in blue, the second (and last) is lit from one side with a soft red. it could be boy’s imagination, playing into the gang dichotomy, but it brings with it the first real, external threat in the film. boy doesn’t realise at first, but alamein’s own real-world fantasies have caught up with him, and the consequences are real. we know there’s no way around it, but even in the car afterwards alamein attempts to work it into the fantasy he has built around him. -> the one-sided red light of the bar fight sequence represents the danger and (although he doesn't know it yet) the creeping grief boy feels about alamein from that point on. it’s only subtle at first because no one (least of all boy) knows that alamein’s perpetuation of his own fantasy is about to catch up with him. this is then carried over into the next scene, when all three of them have blood all over their faces and alamein is trying to rationalise what happened to fit his fantasy - it’s not the soft and subtle red lighting of boy’s imagination, it’s tangible and painful and a very real representation of how alamein’s selfish tendencies start to have real life consequences. the grief in that instance is for what was, until then, an unbroken ideal. for everyone in the car.

leaf’s death; immediately following the pub fight, this is a major turning point. boy’s face is lit red from one side, much like the bar fight, but a far stronger colour. (alamein is not lit in red at all). this is obviously boy grieving leaf (and thus a central part of his childhood), but he’s also feeling grief over his relationship with alamein, which is changed almost instantly in this moment.

the sparkler scene; during this scene, rocky is wearing bright red (perhaps the most vibrant colour we see anyone wearing throughout the film.) it acts as a sort of culmination of a number of themes throughout the film, but most notably it forces alamein to literally confront his grief regarding joanie, an idea given more weight by the fact that at the start of the film, he had never even met rocky. for rocky, it’s an attempt to connect with alamein - he’s wearing the roller skates he got from him at the beginning, he’s holding a sparkler in one hand and making a physical connection with the other, he’s wearing the brightest, most vibrant colour we see anyone wearing throughout the whole film. he’s confronting his own grief/guilt regarding joanie’s death, and therefore forcing alamein to do the same.

the bench in the garage; the bench is red, causing it to stand out from the earth tones of the rest of the tableau in this scene. first, boy, rocky, and kellie are sitting on the bench watching alamein and waiting for the party to start. the symbolic grief is underlying the whole scene, and it’s noticeable that only members of the family sit on the bench. after rocky and kellie leave, boy is left with alamein, who sits on the bench with him but further away than rocky had been sitting. in fact, alamein took the seat that had been empty between rocky and kellie, causing the other childrens’ absence to be palpable when comparing the shots. visually, there remains distance between boy and alamein, but they are connected by the underlying shared grief between them.

beyond these individual tableaus, red is used to represent grief in other ways throughout the film; rocky’s animation of a mouse coming back to life as a bird, nan leaving for and returning from the funeral wearing red, the late evening sky when boy is telling leaf about his day (this feels slightly more complex - there’s not particularly a theme of grief in this scene, but it’s not about that, it’s about the grief in the next. boy says there’s a storm coming, and the red sky represents something on the horizon, so to speak. alamein cannot return home without bringing some sort of grief with him, and so the sunset represents this); the sunset in the transition shots after alamein takes his jacket back from boy, the back of alamein’s crazy horses patch (which we only see once he’s taken it off the jacket).

blue as hope

when boy finds the money; obviously, the sky is shown regularly throughout the film, although more often than not it’s a more subdued shade of blue. this changes in the scene where boy finds the buried money - it takes on a far more vibrant tone, creating a visual contrast with the figure of boy in front of it. while boy is hopeful from the moment alamein arrives home, this is the moment when the hope is closest to paying off, to being realised tangibly. it’s almost naive in its vibrancy, and represents a petit-dénouement within the story. the money has been found - they can leave.

the kitchen; repainted in a colour scheme accented with baby blue for the film, the kitchen is used many times throughout, often in scenes that show connections between characters. the cabinets in particular are perhaps most obvious during the scene where alamein and the crazy horses have just arrived home. for boy, this is everything he’s wanted for years - he’s hopeful that finally he can have the life (and the father) he’s always wanted. in the shot with the kids on the left of the table, and the crazy horses on the right, the cabinets are largely forming the background behind the kids. there is a door to the right, but it’s open, revealing the green wallpaper of the hallway.

the final scene; sitting beside joanie’s grave, alamein is dressed entirely in blue, notably sans jacket or helmet. this scene is about as explicit as it gets - there is hope for the future here, represented by how alamein has finally let go of his persona, and is able to sit with his children by their mother’s grave. rocky is also dressed in a brighter blue, indicating his hopefulness about alamein that boy had at the beginning, encouraged by boy telling rocky that alamein was training to be a samurai in japan.

the michael jackson sequences; these are very explicitly a representation of boy’s projection onto his father. the first scene, at the party, is lit entirely in blue, and shows an alamein consistent with the one we see during boy’s speech at the start of the film. it’s the alamein he wants to believe in, the one he wants to see across from him at the party - interestingly enough, unlike this scene’s counterpart later on, we don’t see the “end”. nothing has happened yet to break boy’s illusion of who alamein is. the second michael jackson sequence has already been discussed, but stands in contrast to the first because of a) the subject matter and b) the introduction of the red lighting. boy wants to have hope for his father’s character, but this is the point at which it’s no longer possible.

joanie; throughout the film joanie is associated with the colour blue. she is wearing blue in all of boy’s memories, and the blue robe hanging on the wardrobe when rocky is born probably belonged to her as well. for boy, he holds onto these memories as proof of a time when they were a family, a concept which is inextricably linked to alamein’s presence. boy hopes that he (and rocky) will be able to have this again - it’s worth noting that we first see these memories once alamein has returned home, and it seems to us that boy’s hope may not be in vain. the memory of he and joanie sat on the bough of the tree while alamein throws a stone towards the sea is mirrored moments later, with boy throwing the stone and rocky sat down. the overall palette of the first shot is much cooler, and has all three characters dressed in blue, whereas the second one is much more yellow.

with regards to the rest of the film, blue is often used in subtle ways to accent an undertone of hope. rocky especially often wears blue during these scenes (when nan returns home, when they visit joanie’s grave), and boy is wearing a blue shirt when alamein apologises through the window. rocky is also wearing blue (even blue-green) when he sees alamein stood outside the graveyard. dynasty is often wearing blue, including when she takes the sparkler from boy at the end, and the eyes that alamein puts in boy’s carving are blue.

green as potential

the field; as one of the major recurring points of the film, the money (and therefore the field where it is buried) carries a huge amount of narrative weight. money has potential in and of itself, but within the film it represents the potential to leave waihau bay, to escape. the emphasis on potential is interesting, as the money is of no use until it’s found, and therefore the first half of the film hinges on the potential of it, the idea of what it could mean. both boy and alamein fantasise about what they would do with it, without really thinking about the material reality of it. however, the film never gets to a point where this is necessary - by the time alamein sees the money, it has already been destroyed.

the marijuana; representing a very literal sort of monetary potential, the bright green is introduced to us almost immediately, during boy’s speech. whether this is a good thing or not, it’s linked to dynasty having a job, something which is presented as rare in the film. when boy "finds" the marijuana and brings it to alamein, it's theoretically a way to make money, a way out - the implication that alamein smokes it rather than selling it paints it on the surface as a wasted opportunity, when in reality there's not much else he could do with it. there's no one else he can sell it to, and so in this way the monetary potential is almost useless. this emphasises a theme that comes up throughout the film (a theme that taika has talked about since), how difficult it is to leave or even find a job - this is the purpose of the money for alamein, and this idea extends to boy wanting to "[go] with him when he [leaves]". this is why the marijuana is interesting - it doesn't really have that much monetary potental to anyone who doesn't "control" it. thus creating a self-perpetuating cycle, of sorts.

“who am i?”; the first time we see boy, he’s framed against the dark green of the chalkboard, giving the speech that prompts mr langston to introduce the concept of “potential” to the film in the first place. given that the speech is (presumably) supposed to be titled “who am i”, it’s interesting that boy speaks mostly about other people - as mr langston says, he has potential [to be different to his father], which is emphasised by the importance he places on his friends and family.

throughout the film, the concept of potential is used both to link boy and alamein, and to differentiate them. when mr langston tells boy he has potential, it’s because he’s comparing him to alamein (“he was a good student, like you - full of potential”). perhaps the most obvious visual representation of this is alamein’s shogun helmet - for alamein, it represents the type of person (character?) he wants to be, and for boy it represents a chance to become like his father. this is tied together after boy finds the money, when he reads the dictionary definition of potential; he doesn’t know what it means, but looks over towards alamein’s jacket and finds an answer. therefore - boy’s idea of potential is inextricably linked to alamein.

during the rest of the film; boy is dressed almost entirely in green when he finds the money, rocky’s drawing of alamein over joanie’s grave is done in green, alamein is framed by the green grass of the mural in the kitchen when he promises to spend “quality time” with boy and rocky, the landscape when alamein is driving with boy.

everything else

aside from their individual uses, the colours are also used together to convey more complex themes; for example, the night when alamein arrives home. boy and rocky are both shown in bed, boy wearing blue with green bed covers and rocky with orange. for boy, alamein arriving home gives him hope - he sees the potential in their relationship, and thinks that now he can have the family he’s wanted for years. on the other hand, rocky sees alamein returning home as a reminder of the grief he feels regarding joanie’s death.

several times throughout the film, the blue sky/green grass contrast is used to emphasise these themes. for example; when alamein and the crazy horses are first looking for the money, when boy and rocky are walking up to the graveyard at the end, and the shot of the house when boy is making amends (as well as earlier, when the kids are playing tag). specifically, the shot of them walking to the graveyard is contrasted with another shot from moments before, when boy is telling rocky that alamein has left for japan. the landscape behind them in the first shot is grey and overcast, whereas in the second shot it’s sunny and split almost exactly in half by the blue sky and the green grass. all of these scenes are underlaid with a sense of hope and potential, in one way or another.

in the scene where boy and rocky are in the bath, rocky is haloed by a spiral of red and black. the spiral reaches into part of boy’s space, with the rest of his space being blue. this takes place immediately after the scene of rocky looking at their family photos and, before that, alamein taking the jacket away from boy. rocky is surrounded by (literally) swirling grief for what he believes he did to joanie, whereas the blue behind boy represents the tone of the montage - not hopeful per se, but heartwarming. we see again some of the characteristics in boy that are initially apparent, before alamein arrives.

when boy discovers that leaf has eaten the money, we see a shot of some of the notes on the brown grass next to the wheels of the car. this contrasts with the other times we see grass in the film - it’s vibrant and green, whereas in this scene it’s brown (dead, even), representing the lost potential of the money. this is also interesting considering potential as a key part of alamein and boy’s relationship; once leaf eats the money, it is fundamentally altered because the potential of the money has been destroyed.

beyond this, there are many individual moments in the film that use colour to convey implicit meaning; boy wearing blue-green during the class photo when he looks over to chardonnay, the dictionary cover boy reads from being designed in red, green, and blue, and boy being framed against the green and blue of the mural on the kitchen wall near the start of the film.

to conclude! the use of colour in this film is incredibly detailed and nuanced, considering the frequent use of local landscapes and the fact that most of the set was built already - it’s used to both accentuate and introduce underlying themes that we as the audience may or may not consciously notice. as dynamics, characters, and emotions change throughout the film (both chronologically within the narrative itself - boy’s memories of joanie being accentuated with a cooler palette that is less apparent in the “present”, for example - and within the film), the colours change alongside them. the use of red to represent grief, as opposed to the blue we would generally expect, emphasises the kind of tragedy that these characters are living with, and the kind of tragedy that underpins the whole film - it’s not necessarily about mourning, it focuses on the effects of grief rather than the inherent sadness of it. the way these emotions and concepts influence each other is explored through the use of colour, and adds another layer of depth that is not immediately noticeable. taika im losing my mind

#boy 2010 #3044 words last time we checked so like. dont say i didnt warn you #believe it or not this is far from exhaustive but thats not the point! go forth rewatch and Notice Things #anyway i said this at the start but go follow cricket twocarsonenight if u dont already (cringe!) because we literally co-authored this #like its genuine academia at this point #boy (2010) discussion group

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