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written-on-the-trees · 3 years

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Do You Have A Name, Or Can I Call You Mine? - Machine Gun Kelly Fan Fiction

Word Count: 2550 words

Warnings: None

Summary: Colson gets the phone call he'd hoped for, and more. There are more bad pick-up lines.

Where else can you find this: Ao3 | Wattpad

Colson grinned down at his phone, unable to hide the expression when he saw the screen light up from another message from Rosie, knowing full-well it was another cheesy pick-up line.

She sent one every on her lunch break, usually when Colson was just getting out of the apartment they were renting for the week, and he always sent one back. It was a bit dumb - real high-school childish shit - but he'd be lying if he said he didn't fucking love it, if only because it was an excuse to talk to Rosie.

They hadn't had a chance to talk on a call yet; they seemed to have opposite schedules, with her finishing work around four in the evening, just when his day was really beginning, and he was still passed out in the morning before she started work at eight. Still, he didn't think they went more than twelve hours without messaging each other, and he liked her enough that he'd even mentioned her in passing to Casie when they'd spoken, telling her the story of how he'd met Rosie

His daughter had rolled her eyes and told him not to embarrass himself and more than he already had with his bad pick up lines, only to be horrified when Colson told her Rosie found him funny, and had some awful pick-up lines of her own. The faux-fear on Casie's face as she'd whispered that now there were 'two of them now' had made him laugh so hard his jaw hurt...and gave him a little bit of hope that he and Rosie could make something work.

MESSAGE FROM ROSIE 🌹

I would take you to the movies, but they don’t allow snacks.

That's what the kids are calling each other these days, right? A snack?

Woman, I am thirty years old.

I have no idea.

God I feel old. I called someone a hunk the other day, and Grace actually asked me what I was talking about.

Oh yeah? Was that someone me?

I couldn't say.

It was a pretty standard chat for them - but it still gave Colson butterflies in the pit of his stomach.

After a few days of messaging, the bad pick-up lines and chat had progressed into flirting, and now both of them were dancing around each other, trying to work out how serious the other one was...at least Colson was. He'd admit, it was a little bit weird to be the one feeling like they were chasing, and he was pretty sure he didn't like it. He was second-guessing what he messaged to her, over-thinking about what she messaged him, and generally giving himself anxiety over manning up and just telling her he wanted more than exchanging texts.

Logically, he knew it shouldn't be that hard; he'd literally been speaking for her for four days, if she told him to fuck off, then it wasn't like he was losing someone who'd been in his life for years. It shouldn't be this hard to just say what he felt. But everytime he typed it all out, he ended up deleting it.

He'd stopped even trying.

If you say so. Honestly, I've got other worries.

I lost my teddy bear. Can I sleep with you tonight?

I know you can't hear me, but I just groaned. Audibly.

The kids I have in detention are so confused.

As stressed as he was over confessing his feelings to Rosie, that was enough to make him chuckle under his breath. The juxtaposition of Rosie, the badass looking woman he'd met at a venue bar, and Miss Barnes, the secondary school history teacher, was utterly hilarious to him. He just kept picturing her standing in front of a whiteboard in her fishnets and leather miniskirt every time her job came up...and whenever he got into the shower.

Sorry, Miss Barnes.

Fuck off.

Chuckling, Colson slid his phone into his pocket and let himself into the studio he was recording at.

He was determined to finish early today; he might not get done by four, but he was hoping to get out in time to ring Rosie before he went out tonight. Maybe he couldn't work up the courage to tell her how he truly felt, but that didn't mean he didn't want to speak to her. If anything, he was hoping hearing her voice might give him the kick in the pants to come clean.

He was keeping his fingers crossed.

MESSAGE FROM ROSIE 🌹

I know this is a bit short notice, but can we call?

Yeah, course. Everything okay?

Colson waited to see if Rosie would message back, only for her number to flash up as she skipped messaging just to call him.

"Hey, you alright?"

'I'm good. Friday's are rough.' Rosie sighed, sounded exhausted, even though it was only quarter past twelve: 'For once I didn't have anyone in detention so I've locked the door and now I'm hiding in the cupboard at the back of the classroom.'

Colson let out a low whistle: "That does sound rough."

'It's not that bad. I stuck an old desk chair in here and I have a phone charger and a bar of chocolate.'

"I meant the fact that you're hiding in a cupboard, but I'm happy you're happy in there." Colson snorted, hearing Rosie chuckle softly in return: "What on earth did the kids do to drive you this insane?"

'Ah, it's just the time of year. No-one wants to pay attention on a Friday, and next week is the last week before they get a week off for half-term, so all the kids have turned into monsters. Well, bigger monsters than they usually are.' Rosie sighed, before audibly cheering up: 'But I didn't call to bitch about my job; I called because I wanted to speak to you. And because I think I have found the best chat-up line ever.'

"Oh yeah?"

'I am going to complain to iTunes about you not being this week's hottest single.'

Colson laughed so hard that Rook poked his head through the door of the kitchen, looking confused. Colson shook his head, making Rook raise his eyebrows, only backing out when Colson flipped him off with his free hand.

He was definitely going to bother Colson about this later, the nosy little shit, but for now Colson couldn't bring himself to care about anything other than the way Rosie was laughing at her own joke. It was fucking adorable; she sounded so happy with herself for making him laugh, it made his chest feel a little tight. She was literally the best thing to happen to him this year, and he was already so attached that he didn't want to lose her.

The sudden realisation made him bold - he couldn't keep chickening out of talking to her. He had to tell her how he felt.

"I mean, that's good. So good I'm not sure mine is going to stand up to it."

'Well, we'll never know if you don't say it.'

"Wanna grab a coffee...because I like you a latte." Colson took a deep breath: "I suppose, to make up for it not being as funny as yours...I could tell you it's a serious offer?"

The only response was silence.

Colson was ready to take it back, only for Rosie to clear her throat: 'Like...a date?'

"Yeah, like a date." Colson agreed: "I mean, it doesn't have to be coffee. We could go for dinner; there's this cool restaurant that's meant to be good, or we could go do something fun, or - "

'Dinner would be nice.'

Colson's heart stopped.

She agreed to dinner. She agreed to dinner!

"That's great!" Colson swallowed, feeling the same anxiety that Rosie sounded like she was feeling, and wanting to get away from it and focus on the excitement building in his stomach: "Because you know what’s on the menu? Me 'n' u."

Rosie groaned, but he could hear her trying not to laugh as she did so: 'That was so bad...but it was also amazing, so it's a date. Literally.'

"It's a date."

'I can't wait.'

"Me either. I'll see you Friday."

Goddamn...

Colson saw Rosie before she saw him, standing just inside the front door to the restaurant they'd agreed to meet at, all lit up by the soft yellow-white fairy lights strung that hung in a curtain against the wall behind her. She looked like a fucking dream: in a modest black dress that she somehow managed to make look scandalous, the material hugging every inch of her, even though it covered her from neck to wrist to just below her knees. With bright red lips and scarlet shoes, Colson wasn't sure he wanted to share the sight of her with all the other guys in the restaurant. He was already half-ready to punch the dude at the front desk, who was staring at her ass while her back was turned to him.

Instead, he quickened his pace. The sooner they were seated, the sooner that guy could fuck off and eye-fuck some other woman.

Even though he was pissed, the look on Rosie's face when he opened the door was more than enough to calm him down: "Colson! Did you have Lucky Charms for breakfast? Because you look magically delicious."

Just like that, the anger was replaced with laughter: "Damn it, that was good. You keep making jokes like that, and I'm gonna think you're a campfire - because 'cos you’re hot and I’m going to want s’more."

Rosie laughed, and allowed him to pull her in for a hug, wrapping her arms around his neck as he tightened his around her waist. He made sure to glare at the dude who'd been staring at her ass, even though he was now looking utterly disgusted by their exchange of cheesy pick-up lines, but mostly he got distracted by the smell of Rosie's perfume. It was a new one on him, but he was pretty sure he was already addicted to the muted citrus and almost peppery smell of it.

They reluctantly pulled apart - and Colson was thrilled that Rosie seemed just as reluctant as he was - but remained in contact by holding hands as they walked up to the little podium thing, where ass guy was currently looking down his nose at them.

"Do you two have a reservation?"

"Yeah, for two, under the name Baker." Colson smirked, watching the guy's face drop.

Colson felt no remorse.

Ass guy called over a waitress and asked her to show him and Rosie to a table upstairs, before telling them to have a good meal. Rosie smiled, albeit coolly, making Colson wonder if she'd been aware of the jackass staring at her earlier, but Colson just smirked. He wasn't usually a dick to people; he'd worked at fucking Chipotle, he knew he wasn't better than anyone, but this dude was just asking for it. Colson wrapped an arm around Rosie's waist as they walked away, letting everyone in there know exactly who she was here with. They could eat their hearts out, he was the one lucky enough to get to sit down to have dinner with her.

Just the thought was enough to make Colson smile.

Rosie smiled back: "Oh, wow. Did the sun come out, or did you just smile at me?"

"Damn." Colson reached up to cover his smile with his hand, even though it was widening: "That was good. Not as much as the Lucky Charms one, but still good. Almost makes me wish I didn't ruin it by hating my smile so much."

"I try my best." Rosie winked: "And your smile is cute!"

"Almost as cute as you." Colson winked at her watching her cheeks turn a faint shade of pink.

Despite her blushing, though, Rosie wasn't lost for words: "Smooth."

"Yeah? How's this for smooth - are you Netflix? Because I could watch you for hours."

"Not bad...but not as good as roses are red, my face is too, that only happens when I’m around you."

Colson laughed.

Normally he liked having the last word, because the only thing he was more than mouthy was stubborn, and he wasn't ashamed of that...but something about going back and forth with Rosie made it more entertaining to just let himself stop looking for the next thing to say and just enjoy being truly present. There was no pressure from her for him to be edgy or sharp-tongued. Although she did seem to like him when he was, she also seemed to like him when he was spouting lame chat-up lines and being a dork.

It was impossible to put into words how good it felt to be able to relax. There weren't a lot of people Colson could let his guard down around, but in the short time he'd known her Rosie had already become one of them. With her, he felt like he could talk about what he was doing, without worrying that it was going to get back to someone it shouldn't or end up on the internet.

They talked about what he was doing in the studio, about her least favourite class to teach and how much she dreaded the last lesson on a Friday when she had them, about their family and friends and what was happening with them. Not once did Colson worry about anything he was saying or think about censoring himself. Nothing felt like stilted or forced - with Rosie, Colson was so engrossed in their conversation that he ordered and ate on auto-pilot, barely noticing anything other than Rosie. It was like she was the center of the universe tonight, and Colson couldn't keep his eyes off of her. It literally took the waitress coming over to ask if they wanted the cheque for Colson to realise that the restaurant was almost empty.

The waitress was all too happy to let them pay, hurrying them out the door as politely as possible, hovering as Colson helped Rosie into her jacket, and wishing them a goodnight as they headed for the stairs. They got out onto the street, standing close to the window to let the city pass them by as they spoke.

"Thank you for a really nice night." Rosie smiled: "The thought of this literally kept me going this week, and it was the best night I've had in a long time."

Colson felt his heart start to pick up, even as he tried to act onfident: "I'm glad it lived up to your expectations...I'm also glad you've been fantasising about me."

Rosie laughed: "You wish. Maybe I was just thinking about the dessert."

"In fairness, that passionfruit cheesecake you had was fucking amazing." Colson laughed back: "I'd dream about that."

"It was the best...well, except for you." Rosie smiled, her voice softening to something sweet and genuine: "I had a really nice time tonight, Colson."

"I did too. Honestly, I think you might be the best thing to happen to me all year...so, at the risk of ruining all of that..." Colson tailed off, leaning down to pause with his lips an inch from Rosie's: "Can I borrow a kiss? I swear I’ll give it back."

Rosie closed the gap herself, leaning up that last inch to press their lips together.

It was amazing.

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hvlfwygod · 4 years

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crystal clear on a star lit night | brent & macey (& miranda)

summary: you all know exactly what this is

Macey had taken her heels off the moment they got in the car. She always did. Her feet were propped up against the glove compartment, and was presently slouching in her seat, bopping her head to the music playing and scrolling through her phone. With a cute dress and a full face of makeup on, it was a stark juxtaposition. She turned to Brent, a grin on her face as she snapped a picture of him driving to post on her Instagram story, "I'm apologizing in advance about how annoying I'm gonna be. I'm fully prepared to take like, a million cute pictures of us, 'cause we don't have a lot of new ones."

Brent laughed, keeping his eyes firmly on the road. The sun was setting and shadows were expanding into darkness, but he'd driven this road so many times he wasn't very worried about it. The reason he was staring ahead was so he wouldn't stare (gawk, really) at Macey any more than he already had. Also, his heart was racing, and anything other than looking forward might give him away. "Don't apologize, that's exactly why I picked this place."

Macey shoved her phone into her purse and leaned her head back against the seat, "A fucking castle just out here." When Brent had randomly stumbled upon the place online, she immediately insisted they go. She didn't realize it was the kind of place that needed reservations a month in advance, however. So, the waiting for this date night to finally come was well worth it. "Like, that's so weird. I love it. We should get a castle." She joked.

"What would the two of us do in a castle?" One of Brent's hand floated off the wheel and hit the left blinker, reached for hers. He turned while his hand intertwined with hers. "Besides throw a party that your siblings would never be able to outdo."

"Uh, a lot of things." Macey grinned, bringing his hand up to her lips. She pressed a kiss to his knuckles before resting their hands on her leg. Her tone was suggestive, but, she dropped it easily with a laugh, "For real though, I've always wanted to just like, slide down a long ass hallway in my socks, or take a mattress down a huge staircase like a sled. And yes—we've tried that in the cabin. The staircase wasn't long enough." She shrugged, "Okay, amended. We Airbnb a castle."

The castle was just up ahead, so Brent tightened his grip and shifted somewhat in his seat. "We're about to be there," he said. "But yes, that I think we can arrange. We can slide down the hallway and do all manner of things on a mattress." He smirked, finally stealing another glance at Macey. "Okay, look to your right." He sped up just a touch, and then they passed the edge of the trees to a huge, open field. The castle was set back behind a courtyard, lit up softly by lights. Even Brent, who had only ever seen it during the day, was impressed. "Wow."

Macey scooted herself back up into a correct seating position so she could actually see as directed. Resting her forehead against the window, Macey watched as the trees gave way to the castle in the distance. A small gasp escaped her mouth, jolting up straight, "Stop it right now." She didn't quite know what she expected, but, what could you even expect when you've never seen a real castle before? "Brent!" Macey exclaimed, taken aback. Her bright eyes were still glued outside, watching as the castle got closer. She squeezed his hand again, "What the hell!"

Her reaction was all he needed; a wide, toothy grin spread across Brent's face and he pulled Macey's hand up to his lips to kiss it. "I told you it's beautiful here," he said quietly. He had to let go of her hand to properly turn into the long drive up to the building, but he found it again once the car was facing ahead once more. The sun was beaming out a brilliant sunset and everything felt perfect, so far. "Wait until you see the inside."

"Yeah, no shit. It's probably insane." Macey gave another bewildered laugh, eyes continuing to dart between all of their surroundings. She realized probably she should stop cursing with the fact that they were dressed up more than they have in months and were at, well, a castle. Macey finally looked back over at him, "So, what exactly are we doing here, Mr. Date Planner?"

His heart stuttered but Brent masked it all behind a smile and easy, carefree shrug. "Dinner! And pictures, and a beautiful setting, and..." He put the car in park as a valet approached him. Finally, he could turn toward her fully and he played it up (though it wasn't that hard), ogling her a bit. "I get to see you all dressed up and imagine what it'll be like to take it all off later."

Macey couldn’t not bask in the attention, though her face felt warm all the same. She gave him a similar once over, doing an awful job of trying to hold back the smile on her face, “Hm, same.” Macey leaned over and gave him a quick kiss, “Okay, we’re at a fancy place, we can’t be all slutty just yet.”

"Of course, of course," Brent said, moving backward in his seat. "Don't move," he commanded as he opened his door and jogged around the car. The box containing the ring jostled just a bit in his pocket. Winking at her through the window, Brent opened her door and held a hand out for her.

Macey held her hands up in innocence as he got out of the car, then proceeded to take the few spare seconds to put her shoes back on. Her mind drifted back to their first date, how this act of chivalrous affection was off-putting and uncomfortable to her closed-off self. The thought felt laughable now. When he opened the door, she smiled, grabbing the bottle of wine from the car that he'd forgotten, and taking his hand to hop out of the car, "Thank you, sir, where to first?"

"We have," Brent checked his watch, "about twenty minutes until our reservation, but I want to save the walk around the courtyard for after. So we can take some golden hour pictures up there?" He pointed to the large, open level above them. The valet made it to them and he passed over the keys with a small smile, his arm sliding around Macey's shoulders.

"Oooh, yes, that's perfect," Macey bounced on the balls of her feet, "Lets head up there."

Brent led Macey across the drive, through huge entrance to the floor level of the castle. He paused, unable to not admire the view inside. Marble columns and floor-to-ceiling windows making the sunshine twinkle as it streamed in. "This is... wow." He took a deep breath. It was like everything around him was trying to look exactly how he needed it. He could get down on one knee right here. Instead, he glanced to Macey as he started up the huge staircase. "Want a picture here, too?"

"Wow," Macey breathed out, almost missing his words entirely. She turned around in a slow circle, watching how the sunlight made the room glow, and almost not noticing that Brent had moved to the stairs. She blinked back to reality and followed him, "Uh, yes, definitely." Her free hand grazed the railing as they walked up, "Gods, I feel like a princess just going up these stairs." She chuckled.

While she was distracted and starry-eyed, Brent pulled out his phone and took a picture of her, then held his hand out to take the wine from her. "I know, I feel fancier just being in here. Okay, pose, I got you."

Macey put a hand to her heart in a very 'who, me?' gesture, and hopped up a few steps above him, "Look at you, I've taught you so well," She laughed, "Okay, uhh, here." She leaned against the railing for him to take the picture.

Brent winked at Macey and took several pictures of her, then stepped back over to show them off. "All good?" he asked after he leaned in to kiss her.

Macey flipped through the pictures, favoriting the couple that she liked the most, "Yes, they're perfect," She smiled, flipping back one too far and seeing the picture he snapped of her before, "Aw! That's so cute!" It made her feel all warm and happy inside. Macey nudged him, joking, "Thanks for being my Instagram husband. Do you want a picture?" She raised an eyebrow.

Gods. She said it before, but hearing it tonight made Brent's stomach flip. "I'll take one outside," he said quickly. Brent pulled her in for another kiss and hoped he his face wasn't betraying him when he pulled back. "I'm gonna go check in and drop off the wine, I'll meet you out there."

"Okay," Macey shrugged, letting him go to get everything taken care of. He was a little quick to do so, which set off something in her brain, just the tiniest bit. Her feet were slow as she made her way out to the large balcony on the second floor, taking time to look at everything she could. Brent sometimes liked to have a surprise up his sleeve. Macey chose not to dwell on it or potentially spoil the fun, and simply moved on.

The air was just balmy enough, and the sunset seemed to know exactly what it was doing, painting the sky in warm colors. There were a few people scattered about on the balcony, but, Macey did a little twirl to herself regardless. She made sure to pull out her phone and send a picture to Miranda and Rory, having been raving about going to a castle for weeks now.

He did actually check in and drop off the wine, but not before sending a quick text to Miranda, confirming that they had arrived. He double and then triple-checked that the ring was still firmly in place, then wandered outside. He saw Macey, drenched in sunlight, and his chest constricted— not for the first time that day— at the sight. Once he was close enough, he put his hands on her hips. "Hi," he said, like they'd been apart for much longer than two minutes.

Macey wondered if that would ever get old. How her heart would lurch in surprise, or how she found herself melting into him, or how his voice sent little sparks down her spine. She looked up at him and smiled, full-on heart eyes, "Hey, all set? Oh—!" Macey fully turned around to face him, pointing a finger into his chest, "Do you want a picture? We could also probably ask someone to take one of us, but, I don't know if I trust how good they'll be."

"Hmmm." He looked around at the other people out on the balcony. "I think we can risk it," Brent said, smirking.

A few minutes later, they had managed to get decent pictures thanks to a group of fellow millennials. Brent leaned against the banister and scrolled through their options, Macey's phone's screen angled toward her so she could select her favorites. "I love this one," he said. "The way the light is working? Oh, and you look good, too."

"Me? Why are you so hot?" Macey asked honestly, a big smile on her face, "I love that one too." She reached over and tapped the little heart to save it. "Yay, I'm gonna use that for like, everything now."

He wondered if that would still be the case in a few hours. Brent leaned in to kiss her again, an arm wrapping around her waist and lifting her just enough that her heels were a bit off the ground. "Me, too." Or maybe another picture, one that had yet to be taken. He handed her phone back to her and put a thumb to her mouth where her lipstick smeared just a bit out of place. "Sorry," he said, though he didn't really look very sorry at all.

The smallest, surprised noise escaped her mouth as she hovered above the ground, but, Macey gladly kissed him back. Her eyes followed his thumb, then spent a moment too long on his mouth before looking back up at him. "Oh, please," Macey chuckled, reaching out and fiddling with the collar of his shirt, which had gotten slightly skewed from the motion, "I have it in my bag. Reapplying lipstick is always worth it."

He ran his tongue over his lips as they gazed at each other, then glanced away. "Okay, let me control myself for dinner," he said. Despite what he said, his hand was still against her back as he checked the time on his phone. "They should be ready for us now."

Macey felt her face get warm once again, but, this time she knew he could definitely see it. She laughed and put a hand to her mouth, along with a roll of her eyes, "Gods, you're so ridiculous, I love you so much." She glanced at his phone as well, smiling, "Well, let's go eat some rich people food, then."

Brent laughed as they made their way back inside. "Great, I can't wait." Once they were seated, a waiter appeared with the wine he brought, freshly opened and chilling in an ice bucket. Brent picked up the bottle and poured Macey's glass, then his own. "Should we toast to something?"

Macey scrunched her nose, thinking. Maybe she shouldn't have her elbows on the table, or shouldn't be swinging her legs under her seat. She still didn't quite know what constituted as the right behavior in a fancy restaurant. "Uhhh," She gently rotated the full glass in front of her, then laughed at herself, "How stupid is it that the first thing that came to my head was the dog?"

Brent grinned and picked up his glass, sliding his fingers through her with his other hand. "That sounds perfect," he said. "To Ziggy, our wonderful, rambunctious son." He held the glass out for Macey to tap with hers.

Macey ran her free hand down her face, sighing, "He really is our son, huh?" Admitting that caused a weird feeling to roll through her chest. She smiled and tapped her glass with his, then took a sip, "Mm!" Her eyes lit up, "Hey, this is really good, this is from that new place you went to the other day, right?"

"It is," Brent replied after he swallowed some wine, nodding. It was good, bright and sweet. "I'm glad you like it, I kept going between three nearly identical flavors trying to decide what would be best." As he spoke, he picked up the menu, but didn't look down just yet. He knew from checking ahead that he only had a few options for himself, anyway.

Macey knew him well enough to know that meant he probably was overthinking and took far too long to decide, "See, that's when you just give up, close your eyes, and pick one." The thought of him trying to pick between them was so wholesome, it made her chest ache. Macey grinned, "But, you definitely picked the right one." She glanced down at the menu, "I'm guessing you definitely looked at this ahead of time and there's actually stuff you can eat, right?"

Brent widened his eyes, looking worried. "No, I totally didn't think of that," he said quietly. After a beat, he chuckled and took another sip of wine.

Macey frowned for a brief second, fully believing him. When Brent laughed, she gave a playful glare, reaching her leg out and lightly kicking him under the table. She laughed into her drink before taking a sip, "So annoying."

It all seemed to be going to plan. They ordered food and continued to drink—Brent made sure to pace himself for the drive and so he wouldn't jumble his words later— and everything felt perfect. Sometime around dessert, his phone buzzed with a text from Miranda, confirming she was in place. The closer they got to the end of the meal, the faster his heart seemed to beat. Maybe he paced himself too much, he thought as he poured himself another glass. He scooped a spoonful of his dessert and held it out to Macey. "Try this."

She'd made sure not to drink too much—she didn't want to risk toppling over into a bush in her heels or not remembering all of this tomorrow. But, she had drank just enough to feel a bit brighter and happy inside. Macey leaned forward to try the dessert, and proceeded to do a little happy dance in her chair after she did. "Oh my god, that's so good."

Brent watched her; a smile hadn’t fully left his face for most of the night but it grew in this moment. “So I’m thinking after we finish up here, there’s that courtyard out front, we can walk around and...” he pressed his lips together, then hastily added, “maybe see what we can get away with in the dark? Whatever you want.”

A smirk grew on Macey’s face, “That’s dangerous. I love it.” She checked her makeup in the reflection of her phone, and took a second to reapply the lipstick she’d lost from eating, “But yes, def, let’s go explore outside first. It looked so gorgeous when we came in.”

With a nod, Brent slid his hand back into hers from across the table, interlocking their fingers. He finished his dessert in a few more bites then topped it off with the last of his wine. It was getting harder to be patient, to not rush through the check and pull her outside and just ask. "I promise I'll be good, too, and let us enjoy the view before we do anything too crazy."

Macey laughed, squeezing his hand, “You do kinda love like, going zero to a hundred super fast. But,” She shrugged, “I love that about you.”

He pulled her hand up to his lips. "I love that about me, too." Brent laughed. "And I love that you love it."

Maybe she was feeling sappy because of the wine, or that he’d done all of this to surprise her, but, Macey rested her chin in her free hand, smiling, “You know what else I love about you?”

"What's that?" Brent asked. He copied her motion, putting his elbow on the table and holding his head up with his hand.

"I love that you're really kind. And thoughtful. And that you whistle when you do the dishes. And you have the best laugh. And the prettiest eyes I've ever seen." She pressed her lips together to keep her smile from getting too out of hand. A few years ago she would've stopped there. But she continued.

"Like, you have every right to just be the angriest person in the world, but, you aren't. You give everyone a chance and you make people feel welcome, instead. And," Macey's kneejerk response was still to bury her face into her hand and make a joke, but she forced herself not to, "You've just...helped me be a better person." She flipped their hands back and forth as she spoke, "You make me so happy and I feel so loved, like, all of the time. And I just really, really appreciate it. And I hope I always let you know that."

A few years ago, Brent probably would have had to look away, hide his face and his reaction to what Macey was saying. It was just as overwhelming to hear it now, his heart swelled all the same, but Brent never took his eyes off of her. “You do,” he said quietly. “You do like, every day. And I appreciate it so much, and I love you more than I can say. You’re the best thing to ever happen to me.” He pulled her hand a little closer and placed it inside both of his. “You help me become a better person, too. Come on,” Brent waved their waiter over. “I have something I want to show you.”

His words made her heart swell up as well. But she didn't have much time to dwell on it. Macey smiled, then squinted at him, jokingly, "I knew you had something up your sleeve." She looped her bag back over her shoulder, "Okay, let's go."

Did that mean she knew? Or was she thinking of something else, something smaller? He hoped it was the latter, though at this point some healthy suspicion probably wouldn’t get in the way of anything. Brent paid the check as quickly as he could, then pocketed his wallet. While he did, his other hand went into his other pocket, closing around the small velvet box that held the ring. He kept his grip there and brought out his other hand to hold Macey’s. They walked out of the restaurant and turned to head out toward the garden. He could see the fountain— still a ways away from here— where it would happen. His heart started racing again. “Can you believe it’s been five years already?”

The garden was absolutely beautiful, like something out of a movie. Macey had a hard time focusing on just one thing, but when Brent spoke, she immediately turned back to him. She shook her head, bewildered. The thought made her heart flip in her chest, "Gods, that sounds so fucking insane when you say it out loud." She swung their hands back and forth as they walked, "It literally doesn't feel that long at all, huh."

“I know,” Brent agreed. “Sometimes it still feels like we just started dating.” He chuckled, gazing around at all the foliage while they walked. “And like I’m this big idiot trying very hard to impress you.”

"You were the big idiot?" Macey laughed, "Brent, please, I was the one trying so hard to impress you."

He looked back to her, shaking his head. “Only because I had already been trying to impress you,” he insisted. Brent paused and leaned over to kiss her. “Seriously, I was a big mess and I had no idea how to relax. I was working so hard to figure out how to let loose, which,” he chuckled, “was probably counterproductive.”

"Yeah but, see, that's why it all works out. You didn't know how to relax, I didn't know how to be serious," She let go of his hands and took a few steps ahead, turning to face him and walk backwards, "You fit the puzzle pieces together and ta-da," Macey did a dramatic twirl, arms spread out, then curtsied, "Balance. Look at us now, I can be serious, you can have fun, we're out here thriving."

Miranda managed to find a spot that pretty much concealed her from the view of the fountain completely. She checked that her phone was stable on its tripod before moving to fiddle around with the camera, which may or may not have been swiped prior to her leaving camp, as the sound of voices reached her position. People had been occasionally passing her the past half hour or so, but these voices were familiar and caused her head to snap up and peer ever so slightly over her bush covering. Catching sight of Brent and Macey, she ducked back down before either could look her way, instead looking through the hole she had been poking away at creating while the two lovebirds were at dinner. Her leg was bouncing in excitement and nerves, but mostly excitement as she watched her sister twirl around. As they reached the fountain, she pressed the record button on her phone.

Brent let go of the ring and held both her hands in his to keep her steady as she walked backwards. They entered the circular clearing around the fountain, and the water jets were sparkly under the stars and elegant lighting. His heart had moved on from racing to stumbling and stuttering while he managed to keep a cool exterior. “Yeah. I guess we’re perfect for each other, huh?” He grinned, his stomach flipping, and pulled his gaze off her face and to the fountain behind her. “Look,” he said, indicating with his head that she should turn.

Macey grinned and turned around, expecting something to suddenly happen. The fountain was beautiful, and lit up just so that the water looked like it was sparkling. But besides that and the sprawling garden, she didn't see anything else. After a moment, she shrugged, "What am I supposed to be looking at?" Macey called behind her.

As soon as Macey turned, Brent took a deep, shaking breath and lowered himself to one knee. Only now, settling into the position, did the reality of what he was doing really, fully crash over him. He spoke past the lump in his throat. "Mace?"

"Yeah—?" Macey turned, then froze. There were a few reasons why Brent could be kneeling in front of her. Maybe he had to tie his shoe, maybe his back suddenly seized and he lost his balance. Or...there was the third reason. She blinked a couple times, still frozen. "Brent..." Her voice got meek and quiet, unable to say anything more than that.

"Yeah," he breathed out, answering her unspoken question. Brent took another inhale before he kept going. "I... Uh, wow." He smiled. "Wow. I can't believe we're here. I never thought that I'd meet someone that I would feel so certain about spending the rest of my life with. Mace, you make me so happy, like unbelievably so beyond happy, and I can't imagine going a day without you. So..." Brent's hands were shaking just slightly as he pulled the box out of his pocket.

Somewhere in the middle of his speech her hands came up to her mouth, but, she didn't even notice with the way her heart was pounding. All she could focus on was his face and the words coming out of his mouth. Macey felt like her brain was short-circuiting. Was this really happening? "Holy shit." She breathed out, so quiet it was only a whisper.

Brent laughed, the worry shattering as Macey cursed. "Yeah, holy shit. Holy fucking shit, Macey," he opened the box to show her the ring, "will you marry me?"

She laughed, too, tears pooling up in her eyes. The nerves had disappeared and there was no hesitation in her voice when she nodded, "Yeah—yes, oh my god, yes."

Miranda has been snapping pictures this entire time, from the second Macey started spinning to now. She wasn’t fully anticipating how emotional she was going to get watching this go down, but turns out it was very emotional. Tears are streaming down her face, beyond happy for her sister, and she kept having to wipe away the tears before she could continue snapping photos of the two of them. Pausing once again to clear her vision, she also took a second to breathe and can her eyes before getting back into it, waiting for her cue to run over.

Brent had to swallow hard before he was able to compose himself enough to stand. His own eyes were stinging and he took a brief moment to drag a finger under them before he continued. He plucked the ring from it's case and slid it over her finger, then wrapped her up in his arms and kissed her. "I love you."

Macey tried to keep her hand from shaking as he slid the ring on, but it was hard, due the fact that she was fully crying now. She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him back, "I love you, too," She said, then kissed him again, "I love you so much."

He pressed Macey into him; it wasn't clear to him if his face was wet from her tears or his own, but he didn't care. He kissed her, and then again, and again, and then again, laughing against her lips when he finally pulled back. "I have one more surprise for you," he said, looking toward the spot where he knew Miranda was hiding.

Miranda saw Brent look over and quickly hid her camera before popping up from her spot. Her face was also wet with tears, but she had a wide and bright grin on her face as she hurried over. She couldn’t help but laugh as she closed in on them, slowing herself down what was hopefully enough to stop them from going straight into the fountain as she threw her arms around Macey. “Congratulations, babes! I’m so fucking happy for you.”

"Gods, I don't know if I can handle another—" Her sniffle was cut off by a surprised yelp as her sister materialized from the garden. Macey was startled enough that her reflexes were too slow to hug back. When Miranda let go, she wiped the tears from her face, though her voice was still watery, "I—Wh—Why were you in a bush?"

Miranda stepped back so she could wipe more tears off of her cheeks, and couldn’t help but laugh at Macey’s question. “So you have fucking photos? Duh.” She turned to pull Brent into a hug as well, though she was only able to wrap her arms around his waist due to the height difference. “Congrats, allow me to officially welcome you to the craziest family on the damn planet.” She laughed again, pulling away to focus back on her sister. “I’m guessing we totally got you?”

Brent accepted the hug from Miranda and laughed. "I think we did. The look on Macey's face when she turned around was priceless."

"You guys," Macey tried to sound annoyed, but she'd already started crying again, so that was out the window, "What the hell." She looked down at her hand properly for the first time. The teardrop shaped diamond was a grey-ish black, the rose gold band embedded with little diamonds. The weight of it on her finger felt right. "It's so pretty," She sniffled, then wiped her eyes with her other hand, "Fuck, why am I crying so much?"

Reaching for her hand, Brent took another look at the ring. He'd stared at it enough for months now, but it was a whole new thing to see it on her finger. "I knew you'd like it," he said with a little smirk.

Miranda laughed. “Don’t worry, I think I managed to get her face in one of the photos.” When Brent pulled Macey’s hand up slightly, she couldn’t help but look at the ring as well. She looked up at her sister's face, looking for the flash of recognition at the ring but it never came. Miranda rolled her eyes. “Isn’t it beautiful? It's so your vibe. Almost like you picked it yourself.” Her tone was only slightly sarcastic, but a smirk grew on her face as well.

Macey didn't let go of Brent's hand, looking at him with adoring eyes, "I love it."

She blinked and turned to her sister, not quite sure what she was getting at. She glanced at the ring again, still holding Brent's hand. "How would I—" Macey stopped. The memory was vague: the ring store, Miranda trying to take her sweet time and Macey trying not to steal. Miranda coaxing her to pick something she loved and try it on.

Macey gasped, then immediately reached out and smacked Miranda in the arm, "You bitch! That was a fucking setup? Are you kidding?"

Brent grinned, poking her lightly in the side and kissing the side of her head. "Yep! She's been in on it the whole time." He angled her head up toward his and kissed her again. "I can't believe you never caught on."

Macey's eyes filled up with tears again, wrapping her arms around him in a hug, "How would I? I didn't think—I wasn't—" Expecting this to happen any time soon? Completely blindsided and still shocked? Yes and yes. "You had it this whole time?"

"This whole time," he confirmed, kissing her again.

Miranda laughed at her reaction, but stayed silent while the two of them talked. Once Brent pulled back again, she stepped in again. “I told you, it’s all about the story.” She teased. “There was a lot of us conspiring at the diner while I stole his fries.” She nudged him, more gentle than she normally would.

"Ugh, oh my gods," Macey wiped her tears with both hands, "Okay, I guess I'm just gonna keep crying, it's fine." She glanced around, finally coming back to terms with reality and that they were all just standing in the middle of a garden. "Miranda, are we taking you home?”

Brent kept his arms around Macey's waist, swaying with her slight as she spoke to her sister (and his sister-in-law, if all went to plan). "We are, unless she hijacked a car instead of taking the Uber I called for her."

Miranda rolled her eyes at his comment. “I didn’t steal a car don’t worry. Any other day? Maybe, but not tonight.” She grinned at him and then bumped Macey with her hip. “He also promised me McDonald’s on the way back. So there’s that too.”

"Cool, yeah, um," Macey sniffed and wiped her face again, "Gods, wow." Her brain still wasn't fully working. She leaned into Brent and rested her head against him.

Brent pulled his wallet back out and gave Miranda his credit card. "I did," he said. "But here, there's a bar up there, give us like twenty minutes.”

Miranda looked down at the credit card he was offering her, then back up at him and raised an eyebrow as if she was silently saying ‘really?’. Rolling her eyes, she took the card anyway and saluted him after putting it in her pocket. “You got it. I’m gonna leave the camera though.” She walked back over to where her things were set up, and pulled the tripod and camera out and over to where they were. “Just text me when you’re good and I’ll meet you guys.”

Brent sent Miranda a silent thank you as she retreated, then returned his attention to Macey, who still seemed to be speechless. He stared, grinning widely, admiring the way the wavy lights of the fountain bounced off her. "How are you feeling?" he asked, running a hand up her back.

"I..." It was all still sinking in. She kept running her thumb back and forth across the ring, assuring herself it was really real and really there. She looked up at him, once again caught by how striking he was, how he'd planned all of this, how he wanted to marry her. Macey shook her head, then laughed, "Amazing." Her voice was soft, "So happy."

It was surreal, how perfect this had all gone. How blissful and wonderful the night was, how feather-light he felt now. All these weeks of nerves and planning and now, his fiancé was standing in his arms. "Me, too," he mumbled. He swayed with her again, moving slowly like the promise of a dance they'd be doing one day. "So happy. So, unbelievably happy."

#brent x macey #brentmacey6 #brent x miranda #brentmiranda3 #brent #crystal clear on a star lit night

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deansdirtylittlesecretsblog · 7 years

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The Arrangement: Part 8

Title: The Arrangement: Part 8

Summary: He’s a mechanic. She’s a lonely woman with more money than she knows what to do with. Fate brings them together and sparks fly. But only for six weeks. That’s the arrangement.

Need to catch up? The Arrangement Master Post

Author: Dean’s Dirty Little Secret

Characters: Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Word Count: 1852

Warnings: lots of angst; smut, explicit language, explicit sexual content, oral sex (male receiving)

Author’s Notes: This is a multi-part series. Shifts between multiple points of view. Thanks for your patience.

Almost Midnight, Week Four, Day Four (Eighteen Days left)

You untangled your limbs from those of the man occupying the other side of your bed. Dean groaned, his hand clamping down around your wrist, holding you in place. You leaned over and brushed a kiss across his lips.

“I gotta pee,” you giggled. “I’ll be right back.”

He sighed heavily, but released you. “Don’t take too long,” he called after you.

You did as he asked, quickly washing your hands when you were done and heading back into the bedroom. Dean set his phone on the bedside table as soon as he saw you, then he gestured for you to return to the bed. You climbed in beside him, your head on his chest, his arm around you.

“The door panels for the Camaro are in,” he murmured. “I have to go to Boston to get them.”

Another trip to Boston. More time away from Dean. Time was slipping away from you.

“I was wondering if you wanted to go with me?” he asked.

You turned to look at him, your chin resting on his chest, smiling. “Really? Boston?”

“Only if you want to,” Dean replied, brushing his fingers through your hair. “I thought it would be...I don’t know, good to get away.”

“I’d love that,” you replied.

“Great,” he grinned. “We’ll leave in the morning.”

Week Four, Day Five (Seventeen Days left)

The drive into Boston turned out to be more fun than you’d anticipated. Dean was in high spirits, the windows of Sam’s truck rolled down, classic rock blaring from the stereo, his hand on your leg, tapping to the beat. You felt relaxed for the first time in weeks, your head against the seat, your eyes closed, happy. You pushed all thoughts of what was - or wasn’t - happening between you and Dean out of your head. You still had seventeen days. You were going to enjoy this weekend alone with him and worry about everything else later.

You were surprised when Dean pulled into the driveway of a small house on the edge of town and cut the engine. He turned to you and smiled, then he leaned over and kissed you. It never failed to make your toes curl.

“Where are we?” you asked.

“Aunt Ellen owns this place,” Dean explained. “She rents it out during the year, one of those places you can rent for a few days or weeks at a time. It’s empty this weekend, so she said we could use it.”

“That was awful nice of her, considering how she feels about me,” you whispered.

Dean shrugged and kissed you again, then he climbed out of the truck, holding out his hand for you to follow. You took his hand and jumped down, surveying your surroundings. The house was small, two stories, painted light blue, a patio wrapped around the front of the house with one of those porch swings, big huge trees shading the house, a quiet neighborhood.

“This is awesome,” you smiled. “Really awesome.”

Dean wrapped his arms around you, lacing his fingers together over your stomach, pulling you against his chest. His lips found your neck, drifting over it, sending tingles of desire dancing through your nerves.

“Wait until you see inside,” he murmured, his lips against your ear. “It’s pretty cool.” He took your hand and dragged you up the stairs, unlocked the door and pulled you inside after him.

Dean wasn’t lying, it was pretty cool inside. Comfortable furniture, tasteful knick-knacks, bright, open, and inviting. So different from the cold, museum quality of the mansion you’d spent your life in. You could get used to a place like this.

“It’s perfect.”

Y/N decided she was going stay behind while he picked up the Camaro’s doors. She wanted to walk to the store on the corner, pick up some food, make them some lunch. He’d agreed, reluctantly leaving her.

Dean knew she was on edge, knew she was constantly aware of their time ticking away. He felt the same way, felt as if it was all slipping away from him. They had just a little over two weeks left until he was done with the car and their arrangement was over.

Every argument that every person in his life had ever used to stop him from contacting Y/N, to stop him from rekindling their relationship, was playing on a constant loop in his head, day and night. Sam, Ellen, his friends, all of them, telling him he was crazy, that he didn’t need Y/N in his life, to let her go once and for all. It was all juxtapositioned against Y/N and the change he’d noticed in her since their break up five years ago. She wasn’t the same person. He didn’t know what to do and it was tearing him apart.

Back at his aunt’s, he took a few minutes to pull the doors from the truck and stash them in the garage before heading into the house. He found Y/N in the small upstairs bedroom, lying on the bed asleep. It looked like she hadn’t planned to fall asleep - her shoes were still on, her feet hanging off the side of the bed, her cell phone in her hand and jacket laying beside her.

Dean laughed to himself as he tossed her jacket to the floor and pried her cell phone from her hand. She began to stir when he grabbed her foot and yanked off first one shoe, then the other. He kicked off his own shoes, then climbed onto the bed beside her, pulling her into his arms. He brushed his fingers through her hair, pushing it off of her face, and nuzzled her cheek with his nose.

“I thought you were gonna get food,” he murmured.

“I fell asleep,” she giggled, her arms sliding around him. She kissed the hollow of his throat, her tongue lingering there, and pushed her leg between his, her knee brushing against his half-erect cock, drawing a groan from him.

He tucked his hand beneath her shirt, his thumb drawing circles on her skin, his lips finding hers so he could kiss her, taste her, feel her. He drew her closer, the kiss deepening, though he didn’t push for more. Despite his need for her, he wanted to savor this, to store it away for later. It was a hunger he was familiar with, an insatiable hunger he’d always had for her that time had not diminished.

Five Years Ago

She dropped into his lap, straddling him, the cold bottle of beer in her hand resting on his shoulder. She leaned over him, her breasts pressed to his chest, her lips tickling his ear.

“How much room is there in the backseat of that car of yours, Winchester?” she purred.

“More than enough,” Dean chuckled.

“Take me outside and show me,” she whispered, her hips rocking into his.

He bit back a moan, but he didn’t hesitate to push himself to his feet, lifting her up, holding her against him. He took Y/N’s hand and hurried out the bar door, dragging her after him. It took him all of ten seconds to open the back door and push her inside. Thirty seconds later her top was on the floor, her shorts unbuttoned, and the two of them were locked in an insane kiss that had Dean hard and aching in no time.

Everything between he and Y/N had been leading to this moment, every date during the last two weeks, every touch, every kiss, every knowing look had brought them here, to this moment. She was on fire, greedy, anxious to touch him, feel him, her hands and lips everywhere, kissing him, caressing him, stroking him. He wrapped himself around her, their bodies pressed together, time coming to a halt as they lost themselves in each other.

When they emerged from the backseat of his car two hours later, the connection between them was solidified, unbreakable.

Or so Dean thought.

Week Four, Day Five (Seventeen Days left)

Y/N squirmed closer, her hands on the button of his jeans, opening them and sliding her fingers past the waistband, taking him in her hand. He groaned as she leaned over him, kissing him as she stroked him, his hips rising to thrust into her fist.

She released him, pushed herself off the bed, and grabbed his jeans, yanking them down his legs. Dean helped her, kicking them to the floor once they were past his thighs. Y/N crawled up the bed between his legs, her lips drifting up his thighs to his cock, now lying hard and throbbing against his lower stomach. She nuzzled him, licking a long stripe along his length.

“Y/N,” he growled, one hand fisting in the blankets, the other in her hair.

“Shh,” she murmured before wrapping her lips around the tip of his shaft, sucking gently.

“Fuck,” Dean gasped. He closed his eyes, let himself get lost in the feel of Y/N’s lips wrapped around him, her tongue sliding along his length, her hand wrapped around the base of his cock, two fingers pressed to the underside of his balls, circling, circling, until he felt them drawing up tight, the climax working its way to release. He came with muffled cry, his lower lip caught between his teeth.

Y/N released him, pushing herself up Dean’s body until she was lying stretched out on top of him, his hands on her waist, the two of them kissing. They spent the rest of the day in bed.

Week Five, Day One (Fourteen Days Left)

The weekend went by far too fast. Dean had dropped you at the mansion late Sunday night, staying just long enough to unload the Camaro doors and make plans for the work he was going to do the next day. He’d kissed you goodnight, refusing your invitation to stay, claiming he wanted to check how things were with the shop. You’d nodded your agreement, though you weren’t happy about it.

You were up Monday morning with the sun, waiting for the sound of the Impala pulling up the drive. You’d been awake most of the night, unable to sleep. You wanted to talk to Dean, tell him how you felt, lay everything on the line. You had two weeks left and you couldn’t waste anymore time.

You were on your third cup of coffee when you heard the familiar roar of the black classic car, You pushed yourself off of the couch and crossed the room to the window, peering out over the circular drive, anxious to see Dean.

He stopped in front of the large garage door, parking in his usual spot. He climbed from the car, gorgeous as always in his jeans and tight t-shirt. Just seeing him made your heart skip a beat. You couldn’t wait to talk to him.

Then Sam opened the passenger door and unfolded himself from the car, smiling over the roof at his brother.

“Crap,” you muttered. “What the hell is he doing here?”

Forever: @aprofoundbondwithdean @jensennjared @mrswhozeewhatsis @the-mrs-deanwinchester @official-shipper @brooklyn-writes-flangst @climbthatmooselikeatree @mamapeterson @katnharper @raeganr99 @skybinx-blog @winchesterr67 @grellsutcliff105 @arikas5744 @faegal04 @the-girl-of-your-nightmares @mrsjohnsmith @mogaruke @courageoussam @nerdwholikesword @growningupgeek @virgosapphire79 @sleep-silent-angel @bkwrm523 @iwriteshortstuff @for-the-love-of-dean @nichelle-my-belle @deandoesthingstome @andiamsoinlovewithyou @pizzarollpatrol @misswhizzy @supernatural-jackles @balthazars-muse @waywardjoy @awkwardnerdqueen @valee-ppiew @superbluhoo2 @deansbaekaz2y5 @roseangel013bf @jencharlan @kickasscas67 @chelsea072498 @neanealuv @deanscherrypie @kittenofdoomage @tjforston @purgatoan @just-a-touch-of-sass-and-fandoms @sckslife @sis-tafics @youwerelikeadream @i-dream-of-dean @impala-with-wings @bringmesomepie56 @basmaraafat @oriona75 @dearmisterhiddles @writingbeautifulmen @ultimatecin73 @gemini75eeyore @vote-for-pedro @tom-is-in-my-tardis @percywinchester27 @mysteriouslyme81 @faith-in-dean @that1seniorchick @milkymilky-cocopuff @atc74 @s4m-w1nch3st3r5287 @winsmut @squirrelchester @demonangelimpala @justacaliforniandreamer @xxsugarturtle @findingfitnessforme @wvnchxstxr @winchestergirl-love @petrovadixon @colorfuluniversewhispers @love-kittykat21 @velcr0kitty @spookypeyton @frickfracklesackles @ria132love @shhhs3cret @harleenquinzzel @icantfindacreativeurl @gallifreyansass @anotherotter @kaitlynmarie1120 @giftofdreams @not-moose-one-shots @you-didnt-see-that-cuming @emoryhemsworth @fangirlofeverythingme @goldenolaf25 @nanie5 @cameronbraswell

Dean girls: @rizlow1 @eyes-of-a-disney-princess @winchesterenthusiast @salvachester @deanwinchesterxreader @love-me-some-pie21 @appleschloss @zanthiasplace @hybristophilaa @destiel-bae @winchester-bait @ioanashalala @kayteonline @miss-devonaire @torn-and-frayed @piratedaydreams @myspnsmutsave @omgreganlove @secretlyfurrydragon @ho-ne-y @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @rockgoddean @annewinchester @captainemwinchester @deanssweetcherrypie @feelmyroarrrr @klaineaholic

The Arrangement Tags: @hidingfrommychildren @loveissupernatural @vougebandit @morganpierce @avengersgirllorianna @emilypkuzu @vvinch3st3r @kitchenwitchsuperwhovian @winchesterforever12 @xfanqirlinq @tanithlowisabamf @lustielsnewdoggy @deansfavoritefics @mygayisland @jessica-bones-winchester @badmoviescene @katelyngonzales31 @bunniesowlsandwhales @rdy4thevoid @satan-squared @imissyoualittlemoreeveryday @writing-of-an-angel

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punkscowardschampions · 5 years

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Junior & Nancy

Gay nerds

Junior: Nance, how on earth are you tackling this art project? To say I'm discombobulated is an understatement that isn't getting me an A any time soon! Nancy: 😕 sums it up in a way. Obviously I can fall back on the twin thing but is that too safe? 😩 But we couldn't be more different Junior: 😖 Like, I love how vague and open to our own interpretation it is...but also I fucking hate how vague and open to our own interpretation it is! 😢😂 No one would blame you; least of all me, 'cos I was tempted- being the sore thumb I am when counting our ten- and I've not even got the twin angle everyone is so about in all areas of art tbh Junior: If nothing else, Buster is a willing participant in a photo op always? Junior: Ooh, you could get something matchy match from your childhood photos (I know they exist) and splice it with portraits of you now...Think that elevates it Nancy: You've put your finger on it. Nancy: But I don't think you're so right about the lack of blame 🤔 even with the boy/girl straight/gay redhead/brunette angle it still feels ??? Nancy: Basic 😒 Junior: I get you Junior: Meant to become the next Magritte in just 4 weeks, like !!! Junior: Well, I've heard at least 4 girls from class saying they're going to do a heavily made-up portrait next to a #nofilter #naturalbeauty one so Junior: We'll do better than that by default but I'd like to come up with something vaguely original still Junior: Miss' sanity relies on us lowkey, no pressure 😷😜 Nancy: I had that passing thought let it go though 😜 Nancy: You could text her Nancy: 😕 yes pressure Nancy: What to do? Junior: I like to keep it in professional hours Junior: for her sake, she gets a bit amorous when she's had a glass o vino after work Nancy: 😮 she does? Nancy: can I bribe my way to top of the class by raiding the cellar Junior: That was my second suggestion 😏 Junior: Take one for the team please 🙏 Nancy: but she's straight STRAIGHT Nancy: couldn't be enough Nancy: back to the mindmap Junior: Damn straights 😒 Junior: if all else fails, we can put this grade next to our last Junior: break the fourth wall, v meta Nancy: our school gets the one bohemian who is Nancy: put her next to the sterotypical art teacher Junior: did you mean my mother? 🤔 Junior: her, the engineer, hilarious 😂 Junior: Mum'd be up for it, you may borrow her Nancy: I might yet Nancy: when's this due again? Junior: we've still got 3 weeks, don't worry Junior: just trying to get it over and done with here Nancy: I should Nancy: The Tempest essay is due soon Junior: Don't remind me, even the gayness can't make it enjoyable, like many a teen show 🤷 Junior: Could combine? Somehow? Umm Junior: The supernatural characters and the humans...why yes, I am clutching at straws Junior: This term is killing me Nancy: If I'd get away with handing in some shots instead of an essay I would Nancy: not happening Nancy: 😩 Nancy: What ideas have you had? For the juxtaposition...forget the tempest Nancy: burn that Junior: If only, 1000 words=1 photograph, no contest really Junior: again, if only Will had 💀 Junior: The idea I can't get out of my head, even though it has been done to death so is BEYOND basic, is mashing up a classical art piece with something modern and pop culture...to say something about me (eww!) Junior: Tbf, they usually use Renaissance or very very famous art pieces so I could win points by using some relevant surrealism/ going beyond calling Mona Lisa #flawless Junior: Its all I've got Nancy: I think it's good Nancy: Let's both run with overused concepts and make them not basic in our way Nancy: act like we planned it Nancy: nobody has to know we had no other ideas Junior: Absolutely 😎 Junior: Total confidence is key, comes so natural to the both of us, like Junior: I think worrying about being 'original' is the true hack thing to do here anyway 💅 Nancy joined the chat 13 hours ago Nancy: 😖 yes Nancy: stealing that all Nancy: now if you could keep it going and give me some thoughts on shakespeare to plagiarize 😜 Junior: If I could, I would but even SparkNotes isn't helping me Junior: shall we peruse the best film/stage adaptations? maybe tomorrow night if you're free Nancy: I've seen the 2010 version a few times for obvious reasons Nancy: but yeah the others not so much Nancy: we need to do something that isn't me asking my mum for help Junior: Oh, babe 😂 that's the real tragedy here, you doing that to yourself Junior: maybe I'll borrow her and she can do mine for me Junior: still down for a movie night obviously Nancy: 🙉 Nancy: Lead female character Nancy: Shakespeare should've Nancy: Please do take her Nancy: mum swap 😂 Junior: As much as Bill LOVED any excuse for a drag show darling... stick with the evil queens and witches 😘 Junior: Let's do this, full family swap! Let them drive you insane for a bit whilst I live the life 😬 Nancy: Switch that around both my parents are so type A Nancy: Plus you've got all the brothers and sisters to dodge behind Nancy: Buster takes more heat off than most but he's still just one boy Junior: well, mine would refuse to be bound to a type, just as annoying I promise Junior: Its true I can mostly fade into obscurity with all their shenanigans, yet it still somehow isn't the case, just 12 nosy people in your business instead of the usual 2, with a disinterested brother flexing off in the background Nancy: 🙈 Nancy: I'm not having kids Nancy: Don't care if the future wife is frantic Junior: It is an issue that divides all of us tbh Junior: I don't think I'd mind one, to put all my efforts into Junior: but unlikely Junior: unless I co-parent from the sidelines with your wife Nancy: weirder scenarios have come about Nancy: I'd prefer a kitten Junior: steal one when you come over Junior: Ma'd probably notice but really, do we need so many? Nancy: Gran's such a dog person can I get through the door Junior: True, true Junior: Always living on such extremes this fam Junior: I don't know 😏 Nancy: look at me and my brother ultimate homo and hetero Nancy: embarrassing Junior: 😂 Junior: I'd love to suggest he doth protest too much but lbr Nancy: dad's never been prouder 😂 no teen pregnancies for his little girl Nancy: shakespeare would write that Junior: Who are we putting our money on to go first Nancy: that's harder than it sounds Junior: Rio is obvious choice but I sometimes think Grace might go insane and come along and take the claim Junior: *Shudders* Nancy: change the subject I beg you Nancy: I'd rather hear about your attempts to avoid your secret admirer who's a girl and hopelessly 💘 Junior: well, I would rather pretend that was not a thing 😬 Junior: as your brother once eloquently put it, when he was very pissed, 'i could clean up and get untold amounts of pussy' Junior: and that's that on that Junior: considering getting a face transplant 'cos my off-putting demeanour is not doing enough 😒 what problems to have, eh? the privilege of it all! 😂 Nancy: maybe we should go under together Nancy: moral support and potential discount Nancy: if I get told I don't look gay one more time I'm returning my badge Junior: well, where is your crewcut and tank top, like? 🤔 Junior: out here confusing the masses like that, idk Nancy: 🙉 Nancy: Not an identical twin playing tricks either how dare I Junior: why can't you just get in your box and like it, god damn it Nance! Nancy: unrelated except about boxes but should I get some new kit for this project or am I just stalling Nancy: a memoir Junior: any excuse 😜 Junior: but yes, do it Junior: i'm using it as excuse to go 'round all the best art galleries in town again so Nancy: Can I tag along Nancy: they're so quiet it's everything Junior: Naturally Junior: We're art students, we've gotta act like it, I'll keep the pretentious commentary to a minimum if you keep the equally as pretentious 'grams down too 😘 Nancy: I'll try Nancy: The feed wants what it wants though Junior: Can't argue, just leave the real money outta the shot Junior: Gotta leave my fangirls wanting more, like 😂 Nancy: That I will promise Nancy: Not trying to be mobbed by straight girls Junior: You mean you resist the lesbian stereotype of LOVING that too?! Nancy: Somehow it's managed Junior: no mean feat, one of the few gays in the village Nancy: Don't clap it's too loud 😂 Junior: *Finger clicks like this a slam poetry night* Nancy: Thank you Nancy: [sends a selection of childhood pictures] how early years can I go before everyone's rolling their eyes Nancy: Thank you too mum for these. Why did you do this to us? 🙈 Junior: Awww what 👼 Junior: This is how I like to remember Buster, before it all went wrong... 😉 Nancy: 👶🥕 Nancy: The glory days Junior: Weren't they just? Junior: At least you didn't have an extra older sister to dress you up, that's worse...the photos I could bring out, good lord 🙄 Nancy: 😜 And I wasn't that sister. You've welcome Buster Nancy: 🍀 Junior: *Whispers* Can we agree he needs SOMEONE to give him a makeover tho Nancy: I volunteer you as tribute Nancy: I've tried Junior: Maybe next family gathering Junior: if he shows Nancy: Bide your time Nancy: birthday present failsafe idea Junior: the amount of birthday celebrations in this fam is unholy Junior: We have a better social life than I would ever wish for, ugh Nancy: don't make me think about it Nancy: I'm sharing and it's made no difference Junior: wouldn't want you to miss out on all that good good attention we all crave 😂 Nancy: 🙈 Junior: Speaking of attention, have you heard the latest gossip that has piqued our peers? Nancy: You tell me Nancy: I can't think of anything off the top of my head Junior: Mark Colm Junior: a massive gay? Junior: I can't make up my mind if they're just hysterical and he's just a bit camp Junior: or there's something in it Nancy: He's one of us Nancy: Definitely crushing on the headboy I've seen him looking Junior: Isn't everyone? Junior: Even the teachers, complete popularity contest got him that position Junior: Interesting, though... Nancy: Besides me in my minority of one Nancy: And Sian would never Junior: Sian Gaffney? She's never gay! Thought you didn't do straight girls, you're reaching there Nancy: 🙉 not her she's dating the oldest Keenan lad Jake? Blake? idk Nancy: She'd love to ride half our class anyway Junior: Ohh you mean Mrs Kelly, duh Junior: yeah she's one of the only decent teachers about, doesn't seem like she goes in for all that popularity politics Nancy: No she doesn't Junior: Seems like a good place to while away a lunchtime Nancy: don't tell everyone how fun it is there'll all wanna join me Nancy: not ready to say goodbye to my happy place Junior: I think your secret is safe from the masses, even if I suddenly got uncharacteristically chatty Junior: Even the ones that don't take the piss and are relatively decent human beings Junior: still rather go get a nandos or whatever it is they do Nancy: Yeah I'm an open book if anyone asks 😂 Nancy: I'll stick with the one stereotype I'm okay with embracing, my eager vegetarianism Nancy: No offence lads Junior: Its all kale and charitable acts with this one Junior: No ulterior motives at all 😏 Nancy: just a rich girl with more wealth than she can give away 😜 Nancy: nothing else to see here Junior: mhmm okay 👌 Junior: we'll pretend I don't know you better than that Nancy: Hey you don't know everything Junior: True Junior: are you in the mood for telling? Junior: 🤔 Nancy: Sometimes Nancy: Can't put it all in my art Junior: not if you don't want Miss to think you're trying to tell her something Junior: flattered but straight, like Nancy: She's not the one Nancy: She'll be flattered to hear Junior: Indeed Nancy: When there is someone it'd be nice to talk about it Nancy: Sometimes like I said Junior: Well, you know where I am Junior: When there is someone Nancy: But I wouldn't know where to start Nancy: I can't put words to it ?? Not the right ones Junior: That's not just you Junior: If I'm to understand all the songs and poetry professing they too have no words Junior: Can but try 🙂 Nancy: Helpful Nancy: What about you? Headboys to one side. Any crushes? Junior: No, no Junior: No point, is there Nancy: Doesn't mean there's a way to stop yourself Nancy: Wish I could just No at myself Junior: I don't know, I don't find it too hard Junior: but you're out so its different Junior: I wouldn't want to go out with anyone...even if Mark is a gay Junior: what would he want with me Nancy: You're a catch Nancy: Out or not he'd be punching above his weight to have you Junior: I don't think there's any point being with someone if you can't be open with it Junior: Being a dirty little secret isn't going to feel good for either party Nancy: For some people it feels worth it Nancy: Just to be with, or around them Junior: Perhaps Junior: Safe to say I don't feel that deeply for any lad here so yeah Junior: keeping on my shelf for now, like Nancy: There's a junxtaposition, us on our respective ledges Nancy: I can't remember what being happily single is like Nancy: Another lesbian stereotype for the list Junior: Don't, how depressing 😂 Junior: I am not about that angsty teen art life Junior: How do we get you a lady? Junior: Do we have to hit the clubs? Nancy: 🙈 Nancy: No no no Nancy: Give that up for a bad job and worse idea Nancy: I'm too picky Junior: You're speaking to me Junior: vowed a celibate here Junior: we can do this for you Nancy: We can't Nancy: Leave me in my rut Junior: Fine fine 😋 Nancy: I'll be in my dark room angsting 😂 Junior: Noted Junior: I'll drag you out for museums and Tempest film marathon tomorrow, yeah? Junior: 'Til then madame Nancy: Looking forward to it Nancy: Stay inspired 💚 Junior: Stay golden 💛

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turtle-paced · 7 years

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GoT Re-Watch: Fine-Toothed Comb Edition

Well, this is it, I guess. One of the most infamous episodes of the whole series. Rightly so.

EXTRA WARNING: this recap contains discussion of a rape scene, as well as more discussion of the relationship between Tommen and Margaery.

5.06 - Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken

Let’s get this out of the way right now. The title of this episode is cruel mockery, referencing not just the words of House Martell but Sansa’s “you cannot scare me” line, which must be interpreted in light of the events that follow. Namely, repeated rapes and abuse to the point where Sansa does not care if Myranda kills her. So cruel mockery at best. At worst it’s self-justifying bullshit meant to promote the ludicrous narrative of “hardened woman making a choice” over and above “prominent underage female character raped for shock value.” Which, one, the rape and abuse is still every bit as bad if it happens to a “hardened woman,” and two, still doesn’t mean the plot made sense, was necessary, or was handled well.

This episode has a previously on. It ends at 1:48.

It also includes juxtaposition of Sansa saying, “I expect I’ll be a married woman by the time you return,” Littlefinger saying, “[Sansa’s] suffered enough,” and Ramsay saying “I’ll never hurt her.” Joke’s on us! Ramsay’s going to rape Sansa by the end of the episode!

(4:00) I’ve always found it bizarre how slowly Arya does this work. I think it’s meant to show care, but good lord, she’s an inefficient mortician’s apprentice.

(5:41) We can also see with this “What are they doing with the bodies?” mystery that the writers have elected to drive Arya’s story with external tension (what’s behind the door? Why is the Waif so hell-bent on kicking Arya out?) rather than internal tension, as Arya struggles in alternately abandoning and keeping her identity.

(7:03) Okay, so there’s a bit of a hole in the story the Waif tells Arya - a young Westerosi girl knows enough about the Faceless Men to want their help with her stepmother? She, a noble Westerosi girl, had the means to seek the help of Braavosi assassins? It’s not super plausible. (More plausible for a rich merchant family that interacts with Braavosi on the regular.) Now, this is absolutely, transparently meant to appeal to Arya Stark’s desire for vengeance and her love of grand adventure stories. Unfortunately you could drive a truck through this hole, and I’m having trouble believing that at approximately thirteen/fourteen (I think that’s how old show!Arya’s supposed to be, though Tommen’s age-up really throws everything into chaos - as far as I can tell he overtook Arya), Arya isn’t picking that up. Either the hole, or the fact the story is tailor-made to her tastes.

It’s a minor case of “only one smart person on screen at a time.”

(8:21) We’re back to this, are we? The Faceless Men of the books don’t hit Arya for lying badly, not as part of standard training for beginners. They give her a list of tells and a list of exercises to help her learn to control her face, and give her regular, structured practice trying to spot a liar’s tells. Only after Arya lies about killing a man for her own reasons and gives her biggest tell (chewing on her lip), does the Kindly Man hit her. Once.

This is child abuse here to be dramatic, is what I’m saying.

(8:44) Arya is pretty much the only character who doesn’t magically know Roose Bolton killed Robb.

(9:28) Go Arya, rejecting these terrible teaching methods! Truly, this scene was written for two reasons: one, to exposit that Arya did not hate Sandor (something she had to be told by a man), and two, to show Arya getting hit several times.

(10:52) Tyrion here has casually fessed up to kinslaying, and Westerosi Jorah, who should have knowledge of that particular taboo, has no reaction for us. I suppose this is an early example of kinslaying only affecting the plot at convenient times.

(11:51) Is anyone going to mention the reason Jorah is in Essos? That little slaving incident? Fleeing the country a step ahead of the death penalty? How about the bit where Jeor thought that death/the Watch was an appropriate punishment for his son’s crimes? No? We’re just going to have woobie Jorah make sad faces? Okay then.

My issue’s not that Jorah’s been changed per se, because goodness knows I don’t think Jorah’s one of GRRM’s best characters. It’s why the showrunners changed him and how. All the writers saw in the story of a middle-aged man exiled for enslaving others, creeping on and attempting to control a teenage girl, was an unrequited love subplot.

(13:21) This extra here knows that it’s time for Arya’s plot to advance, and so he’s walked up to her for no particular reason and started spouting exposition. The writers are capable of better.

(14:21) I resent the fuck out of the fact that the child abuse apparently did teach Arya how to lie. That is not how education works. And even if it did work, is that really an excuse for beating a child?

(15:27) Deaths: 1. Arya’s kill. And I am counting that to her, since her lies induced the girl to drink something she did not know would kill her.

(17:02) What a waste of effort by the props department. I’m sure this set, properly lit, would be stunning. As it is, I can hardly see a thing. The music here is lovely and eerie, though.

(19:27) While we’re talking creepy, though, this speech from Jorah about how he regards Dany as a goddess is creepier in its mundanity than any damn hall of dead faces they’ve shown us.

(20:22) Tyrion’s undermining of Dany’s ambitions here is also making me uncomfortable. Whether it’s “Targaryens are famously insane” (again, there’s a difference between Dany angsting about it on her own terms and Tyrion informing the audience of this as fact), “doesn’t mean she’ll make a good queen,” or here, “so a woman who has never spent a day of her adult life in Westeros becomes Queen of Westeros, that’s justice?” it’s pretty blatantly priming the audience to think, wow Dany needs Tyrion. Needs Tyrion. Not just “a good Westerosi advisor and support from at least one major House.” Tyrion.

(20:27) Tyrion’s also being used as a mouthpiece for audience opinion pretty blatantly, much as he was back in season one with the Free Folk. It’s jarring, because GRRM is very careful to include those moments of values dissonance, such as Tyrion’s utter disbelief that women can contribute to political decision-making, and his dislike of democracy.

(20:39) Much like Valyria snuck up on these two last episode, here they have been snuck up on by pirates. They totally weren’t waiting out of shot, otherwise in plain view. Don’t even think such silly things.

(21:39) Oh-ho, dick joke. This scene was written around the joke “Tyrion might be a little person, but he has a big dick!” The “cock merchant” is not the only way Tyrion could survive this encounter, either: there’s the canon use of a grotesquerie.

(24:10) “The city has changed since you were here last.” You know what would have conveyed this fact much more elegantly than this clunky bit of exposition? Exactly what was going on before Lancel started speaking - shots of Littlefinger walking through the city looking apprehensively at the armed, black-clad Sparrows. I think this is here to remind us that Littlefinger knows about Lancel, but the plot in King’s Landing is going to get a bit confused.

(25:13) “House Tyrell won’t tolerate this insult.” Oh, Littlefinger. You’d be surprised! Loras is going to be in custody until the day Cersei blows him up.

(26:02) “If war comes to Westeros, will the knights of the Vale fight for their king?” This seems to be the question Cersei urgently summoned Littlefinger to answer. And this, well, it’s not something you drag someone halfway across the continent to answer. Littlefinger was sent to the Vale to ensure exactly that. It kind of defeats the purpose to drag Littlefinger back to the capital to ask him this again. Better to send someone there to report on him.

(26:24) Cersei drinks: 1.

(26:38) Why on earth tell Cersei this? It seems to be a means for Littlefinger to send the forces of the Vale North without the Lannisters on their backs. If only there was some enemy of the Lannisters trying to retake Winterfell at this very point of the plot, giving an excuse for military incursion into Northern lands! Perhaps some persistent Lannister foe marching down from the Wall?

(27:08) “Marrying his son to the last of the Starks gives Roose Bolton far more legitimacy in the North than an alliance with a hated southern house.” This is 100% true. But this smart political show has seen no further than this in their rush to write a prominent female character being raped for shock value. Literally nobody in the books believes that a genuine Stark would willingly marry a Bolton post-Red Wedding. They all come to the conclusion that the Stark is fake, the marriage is forced, or both. And then a great many Northerners do something about it. Logically, Cersei should be asking “why would Sansa do this? If she wouldn’t, then how did it come to pass?” This is not a complex train of thought. It is well within Cersei’s intellectual capabilities. (Wouldn’t trust her to come up with good answers, though.)

(27:15) “I would counsel patience, your grace,” says Littlefinger.

(27:39) “That is why it is critical to strike soon,” says Littlefinger. So, if you were wondering about the editing process or the amount of thought that went into justifying Northern plotlines…you can stop. They can’t keep the plans consistent for thirty seconds. Literally. Thirty seconds.

(28:31) Littlefinger asks to be named Warden of the North for his hypothetical services. Again, this is something even (maybe even especially) book!Cersei would not agree to. Even she can say to herself “Petyr Baelish, Lord of Harrenhal, Lord Protector of the Vale, Warden of the North…hm. Too much power.”

(29:15) Who else thought that there was something skeevy going on here when Trystane interrupted Myrcella’s concerns by kissing her without waiting for any sort of indication of yes, and indeed while she was mid-sentence? I don’t think that’s what the showrunners were going for, though…

(29:46) And again, were we supposed to take this as young love when Trystane won’t answer Myrcella honestly about how many other girls he’s walked through the gardens with? A good response here would be “a few, but you’re the one I’m walking with now” or something like that, not the dissembling he gives her. Genuine affection would best be conveyed here by honesty. This seriously looks like a reasonably experienced young man pressuring an inexperienced teenage girl into a commitment she’s not ready for.

(30:15) Alexander Siddig and Deobia Oparei just completely wasted here too. Sorry guys, you’re too good for this mess of a plot, you’re bringing something dangerously close to atmosphere and sensible motivations to this scene!

(30:24) Didn’t mention it before, but there’s some serious geography failure here. The landscape Jaime and Bronn are travelling through is gorgeous, but it’s also a very unconvincing Dorne. It’s all the more noticeable because they went from the bright sunshine and warmer filters of Sunspear to grey, green, and fog.

(30:59) You know it’s a desert city because right there, right there, is a donkey carrying a bunch of bananas.

(31:19) Just in case you didn’t see the donkey with bananas before, here it is again! It’s exotic. Isn’t it great how the plot goes to all these exotic foreign-ish locations? It’s worth mentioning again because we know the show is capable of far better work - compare the gorgeous establishing shots of Braavos, Volantis, and Meereen to this crap.

(31:53) These masked individuals walking through the gardens in broad daylight certainly are not very suspicious. Seriously, do they think this will fool anyone for a hot second?

(32:00) Likewise these two masked men. Completely legit. Definitely regular guards.

(32:32) Check out Trystane’s non-reaction to Myrcella identifying Jaime. He barely blinks and just casually strolls up behind her. He’s acting like this is a normal introduction, and not, you know, what the fuck is the fucking Kingslayer doing here in a Martell guardsman uniform unannounced. Again, this is how you can tell this storyline was rushed and botched - the showrunners did not put even a tiny bit of effort into thinking “how would Trystane react to this?”

(32:51) In more contrivance, Jaime and Bronn have been in possession of these uniforms for how long now? And they did not think to maybe wash the blood off. It’s not one of the classic scenarios where someone grabs a stolen uniform under time pressure; they got these a while back and had ample opportunity to launder them. They did not, because the plot demands Trystane sees the blood. (As if the fact Jaime and Bronn are there in fake uniforms isn’t suspicious enough already.) Can’t say what’s shoddier, Jaime’s plan or the writing.

(33:10) It’s Attack of the The Sand Snakes. And you better believe I’m thinking of what MST3K said - they just didn’t care.

I am absolutely serious when I say I have seen high school theatre productions with higher choreography values than this. I know they only had about a day to film this scene, but here’s the thing - the showrunners prioritised the rule of cool (filming in this beautiful historical site) over filming a good action scene and ensuring the plot that made it to screen made sense. It’s shocking, I know, but when there’s a fight scene the audience tends to focus on the combat, rather than the gardens in the background obscured by quick cuts and motion blur - and yet while people might pardon the coincidence of two separate parties trying to kidnap Myrcella at once, they won’t look past the fact this happens in broad daylight.

This becomes a sadly common feature of the show, prioritising “cool” over the bread-and-butter mechanics that cool things must be built on.

(34:28) Note how Areo Hotah is surrounded by a bunch of loyal guardsmen, unmoved by Obara’s “yay revenge!” appeal.

(35:05) Bronn says, “You fight pretty well for a little girl,” and Tyene launches herself at Bronn screaming. Truly we are getting some strong female characters in this plot. Also worth mentioning is that I don’t think Bronn’s casual sexism is supposed to affect our view of him, much like his casual racism earlier in the season. He’s down-to-earth and cracks wise! Why ruin a character like that pointing out the fact that he’s racist and sexist?

(35:33) The leader of this carriage has called a halt.

(35:41) Olenna Tyrell immediately makes a crack about how King’s Landing is smelly and asks why they stopped. I too am asking why they stopped. It looks like they stopped literally so Olenna could say that King’s Landing is smelly.

(35:52) Much like Bronn, Olenna’s reference to “pillow-biters” isn’t supposed to prompt us to reexamine anything. Olenna is consistently and casually homophobic, but since she expresses it with jokes and dismissiveness rather than labelling homosexuality perversion, we’re still supposed to like her and laugh at the jokes.

There’s a similar thing going on with Olenna and sexism. Much like Olenna loves her grandson whilst casually throwing out slurs about gay men in general, Olenna loves and educates her granddaughter whilst demeaning, condescending to, and occasionally threatening other women. If this was deliberate, written with full awareness that Olenna is homophobic and sexist, and her tolerance for gay people and women in politics extends only as far as her family tree does, we’d have a pretty excellent character on our hands here still. As it is, what we have is an unacknowledged double standard.

(36:00) Renly and/or Loras is gay: 1. Been a while since I had to bring this out for reasons of people being homophobic! It’s the verbal version of Loras’ affair with Olyvar in season three: Renly was gay, so of course he had sex with a lot of men.

(36:14) “She wants to drag our name through the dirt. Put us in our place.” I’d be more sympathetic if Olenna hadn’t planned the murder of one of Cersei’s sons, and Olenna and Margaery together hadn’t planned the rape of Cersei’s other son. These two Tyrells aren’t exactly blameless, here, they’ve done plenty to Cersei personally - so why are we seeing this scene of Olenna and Margaery being all indignant that Cersei’s successfully imprisoned one of their family members? What a nerve Cersei has, wanting the woman who is raping her son, along with the family who gives her the platform from which she achieved the ability to rape Cersei’s son, out of power.

It’s fine to criticise Cersei for being bad at governing, and for targeting Loras as a means to get to Margaery, but this depiction of Cersei as somehow unreasonable just for wanting Margaery nowhere near Tommen is disgusting. The depictions of sympathetic and unsympathetic characters in this arc depend on the writers’ refusal to acknowledge that Margaery raped and abused Tommen. Accept that, and this arc changes drastically.

(36:37) “Put the pen down, dear, we both know you’re not writing anything.”

There are two layers of stuff going on here, one good layer, one bad layer. The good layer is in pointing out how Cersei is imitating her father’s techniques for controlling meetings with pretty much zero success. The bad layer is in how, unexamined, sexism plays into Olenna’s ability and willingness to call it out. Cersei is doing the same job as Tywin was back in season three; she has every bit as much reason to write things as Tywin did. Not only does Olenna use the reductive dear to address the Dowager Queen, Cersei gets no benefit of the doubt.

(36:42) Woman called slut/harlot/whore: 1. (Calling Cersei a tart counts.) Let’s look at how this conversation has gone thus far.

OLENNA: You ever going to speak to me? CERSEI: I didn’t invite you. OLENNA: You’re not even doing anything important. CERSEI: That’s a bit rude. OLENNA: Whore.

We’re supposed to find Olenna funny because she just called Cersei a slut. Witty.

(37:23) “Do you expect our alliance to continue after you’ve thrown our future into prison?” Do the writers expect us to look past the fact that Olenna murdered one of Cersei’s sons and arranged the rape of the other? Yes! Yes they do! Olenna shot first in this little confrontation of theirs.

I just find it utterly bizarre that we’re supposed to be on the Tyrells’ side here. I can understand being on Loras’ side - dude’s done nothing but practice with swords and have sex with Olyvar in the past few seasons, certainly nothing he deserves to be thrown in a dungeon for. But while he’s been having a good time, his grandmother and sister have been up to some seriously shady things, as bad as anything we see Cersei do. One premeditated murder and several strategically planned rapes, against Cersei’s abuse of the justice system. I can understand preferring Margaery and Olenna’s competence (though we haven’t seen Margaery even try to do any governing) over Cersei’s incompetence, but I fail to see much morally better about these two in show-verse.

(37:43) Ah, the Lannister-Tyrell alliance, bringing peace to a war-torn country. Not in the books, on account of a lot of survivors being outraged at the atrocity committed to bring an end to the bulk of the conventional fighting. In the show the surviving Northerners and Riverlanders (well, I think, but the Riverlanders may not exist this season) just put their feet up for a season or two.

(39:01) Loras refused to leave Renly’s bedside even as Stannis’ army closed in? That sounds like a scene I would have liked to see.

(40:15) The High Sparrow went and boned up on legal procedure specifically for this, I guess. Dude’s got talent!

(41:15) I understand the logic of bringing out Loras’ lover to testify against both him and Margaery, but again there’s a plothole. It’s called he-said-they-said. Both Loras and Margaery managed to lie just then with perfectly straight faces; all they need to do is continue lying. The queen and her brother. Both are of good reputation. Their word should be preferred.

When Cersei was stacking Tyrion’s trial, in both versions, she brought out a whole bunch of real incidents to make the central falsehood go down easy. She made sure she proved means (Pycelle’s testimony), motive (well-documented animosity between Joffrey and Tyrion), and opportunity (lots of wedding guests saw him handling the chalice). One random saying “I saw Tyrion poison the cup” could be ignored. It’s the same here, or it should be. One random saying “oh no, I totally had gay sex with Loras” can - and should - be ignored.

(41:37) Olyvar here says he squired for Loras.

(42:21) Cersei says outright that Loras’ and Margaery’s word should be preferred to Olyvar’s account.

(42:25) Which is where the “smoking gun” comes out. It’s supposed to be a smoking gun. It’s more confusing. Olyvar already said he squired for Loras, a task which involves dressing him. It is utterly unsurprising that he would have seen Loras naked or nearly so. The only surprising thing is that nobody says, “uh, High Sparrow, you do know that squires help people dress, right?”

Again, this is an obvious patch job. The showrunners so wanted Margaery to rape Tommen, that they couldn’t adapt the flimsy adultery charge Margaery was originally on the hook for. And hey, they could make the Sparrows topical by having them persecute a gay man, too! That saves them having to adapt Loras’ subplot!

(42:30) So there we are. Loras lied barefaced about his relationship with Renly, only showing the slightest bit of disquiet (good job, Finn Jones!), but as soon as Olyvar mentions he saw a thing he could have seen in the normal course of his duties, he loses it and flings himself across the room.

(42:50) Indeed, bearing false witness before the gods, as we shall see, is far more serious than adultery and murder.

(43:09) Yeah. I feel real bad for Margaery, being dragged away from the child she raped while attempting to use the connection between them she manipulated into existence, and just terrible for Olenna, watching her plan to have a child raped backfire due to the efforts of that child’s mother. My sympathies here are firmly with Loras and Tommen.

(43:15) Sansa is still proactively sitting in her bedroom doing nothing. The writers literally cannot think of anything else for Sansa to do except get raped.

(44:08) Myranda here just says that Ramsay gets bored easily. This is clearly a callback to the fact Ramsay hurts women when he’s bored. We know this number of women includes Myranda.

(44:34) We get the names of some of Ramsay’s other victims here. They don’t matter. No, seriously, they don’t matter. They will never matter to this show. They are mentioned here to demonstrate Ramsay’s cruelty and nothing else. They’re sketches of women that exist only to be brutalised.

(45:40) “And how long have you loved him, Myranda?” This is presented as perceptive on Sansa’s part, but the audience really, really needs to remember that last week we saw Ramsay threaten Myranda with death if she got boring.

(45:58) “I am Sansa Stark of Winterfell, and you can’t frighten me.” That is a bald statement of identity and power, and it is almost immediately undermined. Undermined in the worst way possible. That sentiment is raped out of her. Nothing else would do.

(47:06) The writers keep doing it, too. Ramsay says Theon’s to take Sansa’s arm, Sansa immediately says no, because obviously she’s in charge of her body and gets to say whether someone touches her and how, right? They are building up Sansa’s agency in these few minutes only to cut everything out from under the viewer. It’s a cruel punch line to a worse joke.

(47:16) Could do without things like “you think I care what he does to you?” Book!Sansa would, and I feel pretty confident in saying that because of how she reacted to Joffrey’s death. Book!Sansa has violent thoughts from time to time, but when faced with violence and the suffering of human beings she more often moves to alleviate it, and is horrified by it.

(47:55) This set of the godswood is also stunning. Just saying.

(49:08) A shot of Myranda here, in a cleavage-exposing black dress. I’m sure any contrast with Sansa’s long-sleeved high-collared white dress was coincidental. Good thing this show isn’t having any Madonna-Whore complexes, hey!

(49:29) Nothing but praise for Alfie Allen’s acting.

(50:09) Of course, the minute Sansa says, “I take this man,” Ramsay gives us a slasher smile. Oh, poor Sansa, what a huge mistake she has made!

(51:21) While it makes an amount of sense for Ramsay to mention Tyrion, I do find it distasteful how the conversation detours off. Yes, even for ten seconds. We have the obligatory ableist remark from Ramsay (we didn’t understand Ramsay was evil, you see), and three (short) sentences from Sansa on Tyrion’s merits. Leave it at “he was kind” and don’t reemphasise something we already knew. If this is going to be Sansa’s plot (and it shouldn’t have been), this scene must put Sansa first and foremost. This it fails to do.

(52:20) Here Theon becomes the focus of the scene, as Ramsay directs Theon to stay and watch, appealing directly to Theon’s emotional pain at watching this violation. Ramsay’s done talking to Sansa, and she’s now just another means for Ramsay to demonstrate his control of Theon. The last dialogue of the episode emphasises how this is causing trauma to Theon.

(53:46) It’s not like I don’t get the logic of cutting to Theon’s reaction. It makes perfect sense to show Theon’s reaction to this…if the story is first and foremost about Theon. As it was in the book.

The problem is that this was billed as Sansa’s story, her plotline was mutilated to get it to this point, and at this critical moment the show looks away and puts the emphasis on someone else.

Rape: 1.

And now I recommend going to watch MST3K’s take on Attack of the The Eye Creatures, because that’s a far more enjoyable example of “they just didn’t care,” and the riffers actually know when the movie’s depiction of sexuality is awful.

Game of Numbers S05E06

For such a lousy episode, there’s not much to count.

Deaths: 1. Arya’s kill.

Rape: 1.

Consensual sex: 0.

Woman called “slut/whore/harlot”: 1.

Man called “slut/whore/harlot”: 0.

Renly and/or Loras is gay: 1.

Cersei drinks: 1.

#anti got #fine toothed comb edition #cw: violence #cw: rape #cw: abuse #talk about failing a spot check #couldn't have picked a lovelier day to film a night scene #season five

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totesmccoats · 7 years

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Batman: The Dark Prince Charming – Book One

Italian comics artist Enrico Marini dives into the Superhero genre in a big way with his take on the most popular hero of them all, and so far, he hasn’t changed much. His Batman and Catwoman are also in a solid relationship, much like the main series. So don’t go into this expecting a wild reimagining of the character.

The story concerns Joker kidnapping a young girl after the news reports that her mother is suing Bruce Wayne for child support, claiming that she is his daughter. Joker, having seemingly already put together that Bruce Wayne is Batman, targets her to get to his real objective. Batman wants to rescue her, and after running a DNA scan on one of the girl’s dolls, this case becomes personal.

Despite being fresh to superheroes, and coming from a comics culture where they aren’t as ubiquitous as they are here, Marini absolutely nails the heart of Batman’s cast – most impressively the Joker. Marini’s Joker is obviously influenced by Heath Ledger’s performance, borring the presumably fake child-abuse backstory, and a habit of killing henchmen mid-robbery; but also distills so many other versions of the character, maintaining the best parts. Marini’s Joker threatens the kidnapped girl with a knife, only to reveal it’s to cut into a pizza he ordered for the two of them. Of course, he also killed the delivery boy. He’s a Joker who throws Harley a big birthday party, but kills all but one of his other henchpeople when she doesn’t like her present. Actually, unlike most Jokers, Marini’s seemingly isn’t abusive towards Harley, which is a pleasant break from that sorta thing. This Joker is unpredictable and cruel, but he’s also very fun about it; exactly how Joker should be.

Unfortunately, the women in this story aren’t treated as well. While Harley isn’t abused, she’s depicted as way more cheesecake than usual, and Catwoman’s every other pose may as well be on a stripper pole. It’s not like these are huge departures or anything, but it seems like some of the messier parts of the characters taken a little further than usual, is all.

Also, the book is absolutely gorgeous. I don’t want to say it’s the sort of quality of art that’s rare in American superhero books because I’d feel like I’m insulting artists like Ferreyra, Alex Ross, Sean Gordon Murphy, Jeff Lemiere, Francis Manapul, and many other fantastic artists I currently greatly enjoy and admire; but Marini’s handpainted, realistic yet heavily stylized work is far from the house styles of the big two. There are panels I legit want to blow up and hang on my wall. And Marini’s lightly tweaked character designs, plus his new Batmobile, are simply sweet as hell, and I wish they would be used in more things. And his Gotham is brimming with gothic personality, and an insane verticality that dwarfs Batman in the best way.

So far, this story isn’t really anything new or novel, but it’s a damn excellent Batman story in its own right, and one worth picking up if you enjoy comic art.

Batman: White Knight #2

Jack Napier gives an impassioned testimony at his trial, declaring his innocence and putting the blame on Gotham’s police. He maintains that the authorities experimented on him, turning him into the Joker, so that they would have an excuse to demand bigger budgets from the taxpayers to fight a new breed of super-criminals. He says that the rich and powerful of Gotham have invested in crime to do what they’ve always done, make a profit off the suffering of the poor. And though Napier’s populist message has caught on with the poor and middle classes in Gotham, this isn’t a campaign he can lead alone, so he looks for allies.

His first stop, Harley Quinn. He goes to see her, only to find out that she has no love for Jack Napier, only loving the Joker. He then finds out that she’s not the original Harley. The first Harley – in the actual Harlequin outfit as opposed to the Suicide Squad inspired outfit of the new one – steps back in to accept Jack’s proposal, while explaining that she left after feeling neglected by the Joker in his obsession with Batman; and that in his maina, he never even realized she found a replacement. It’s actually a really smart take to explain how Harley has has such a drastic change in character recently.

Meanwhile, Bruce and Mr. Freeze test out their new cure for Nora. They first test it on some lab rats, but then Mr. Freeze tries it on himself. And while it successfully reverses his condition, it also rapidly ages him to make up for all the time he spent frozen.

Bruce later goes to some sort of rich people party/auction, where he’s horrified to learn that his friends have been profiting from Batman’s war on crime. He knocks out his friend and storms off. Now, this I really like. Murphy hasn’t just switched Batman and Joker’s roles as hero and villain; Bruce legitimately seems ignorant of the inequality that Batman’s worked in service of, and he hates it. I’m expecting we may even see Bruce approach Jack to assist address the problems that Batman and the police have caused through Gotham – but that still makes me question how Batman ended up in Arkham from the cold open of issue #1.

I really like how much effort Murphy has put into this story to make it much more than just a simple “what if?” tale. Just as last issue brought up the popular fan-thought experiment regarding whether Batman is to blame for his villains, this one weaves in the fan-discourse about how the collateral of Batman’s work really does seem to disproportionately land with the poor. Napier’s speech isn’t just a an exercise in populist rhetoric, but an actual well reasoned argument against Batman’s existence vis-a-vie his effect on inequality. And it’s one that fits as much for canon-Batman stories as this alternate-universe that Murphy has lovingly crafted for this story. If you’re not already reading this one, get on it.

Batman #34

Batman and Catwoman have their first post-engagement spat. Batman said that he’d “seen more” after Catwoman commented on there being “a lot” of something, and Catwoman took it as an insult, and Batman’s trying to explain he was just saying…oh and by the way they’re talking about the number of swordsmen surrounding them preparing to attack. Because that’s just how they do. King’s juxtaposition of the action with sitcom-esque dialogue isn’t the most original, but it’s really effective here in establishing that, for Batman and Catwoman, this is fairly typical. It continues through the issue, with the two also discussing whether Talia could be considered Bruce’s “Ex,” and lots of Bruce calling Catwoman pretty to deflect from accidentally saying something she’d consider rude.

Meanwhile, Damian and Dick track their father to the same entrance that he and Catwomen fought their way through last issue, but are stopped from following by Superman. Damian threatens to kill Clark with magic, but Clark reminds him that then Jon probably wouldn’t want to be friends anymore. Then Supes goes flying off to handle and alien invasion in Central City; and Dick and Damian decide to sit on the stoop and wait for Bruce to come out. It’s one of those scenes that works because it reminds you that Damian’s just a kid. A kid who can make a believable threat against Superman, but one you can’t take all that seriously because he’s just saying it because he’s steamed over his parents doing something in secret. So when Damian can’t get his way, he just pouts and sits down; and Dick, being the best big brother ever, waits with him.

The lighter tone of the issue changes almost instantly when Talia finally shows up at sundown. The palette of the issue switches from a yellow-orange to a red as the sun sets, ending with an early night-blue sky as Talia challenges Selina to a duel over Batman’s wounded body. The change is dramatic, but not sudden. Even once Talia is in-frame, she approaches slowly, taking about two pages before she starts fighting Batman, giving the sun time to fully set.

Jones’ inky style is still a perfect fit for this adventure, continuing to capture the feeling of the sun beating down on the characters by putting everything in high-contrast black against Bellaire’s yellows and reds.

We also find out in this last act of the issue that this isn’t some weird newlywed hazing ritual; but that Batman and Catwoman are actually looking for Holly Robinson, who killed the 237 people that a young Selina took the blame for, and they tracked her here. So, one question answered, at least one duel to the death to go before getting more.

Green Arrow #34

Oliver has some trouble adjusting to his mother having been alive, and being a prominent member of the Ninth Circle, the evil bank that he’s been trying to bring down for the past year. Moira tries to convince Ollie of the virtues of capitalism – that when the Queens do well, all of Seattle benefits, but Oliver won’t have it.

Instead, he helps Black Canary take down the Clock King, who has hacked into Star City’s smart infrastructure, and is causing every self-driving vehicle in the city to go crazy. Dinah stops a speeding train on it’s tracks by screaming at it hella loud, while Oliver finds and stops Clock King.

Meanwhile, Diggle helps Merlyn make a full recovery, and then tells him that his debt for Merlyn having saved his life some time ago has been paid. Merlyn feels differently.

And at the end of the issue, Oliver agrees to help Moira raid the sunken vaults of the Inferno, believing that even if everything she says is just some Ayn Rand bullshit, a little money would help him out with his murder trial, and also gather evidence more against the Ninth Circle to rescue his city.

This issue is a bit of a mess. The Clock King and Diggle stories both feel like filler to make the issue reach it’s page limit, and to distract that, during them, Oliver completely flip-flopped on helping out his mother.

Also, I’m not a fan of Stephen Byrne’s work on this book. It looks too…flash animation-y, characters look as though they were coated in confectioner’s glaze. It actually reminds me of some bad webcomics, which ain’t good. Also, Moira looks more like Felicia Hardy than a woman who should at least be in middle age. What happened to Ferreyra? Or Campbell?

Superman #34

As his worshippers beg him to lead their forces to take back Apokolips, Lex does the least Luthor thing ever and abdicates his godhood to the person their prophecy actually foretold – Superman. Did I miss something really big with Lex, or am I just supposed to believe that, after deciding to become a hero, he also just no longer has his character defining flaw? I don’t want to be one of those people who says comics should never change, but unless I missed something, this is a huge change of character. Even if he really is a hero now, that shouldn’t exclude him from being arrogant and striving for praise and adulation.

Meanwhile, Lois and Jon are also on Apokolips; and while Jon can just fly away from the people and hounds hunting them, Lois can’t, and finds herself taken by Granny Goodness’ Furies. But when their convoy is attacked by a giant, fire-breathing dredge worm, Lois picks up one of the fallen Furies’ guns and proves to Granny than she’s more than just another captured vermin.

While I continue to appreciate this book’s focus on Lois, it also puts her in a situation that doesn’t suit her strengths as a character. Lois is a reporter, she’s not Wonder Woman. I like that she’s able to defend herself, and that she’s not being damsel’d, but becoming a Fury feels just as out of character as Lex declining a throne.

Peter Parker: The Spectacular Spider-Man #6

J. Jonah Jameson cooks up a nice-looking lasagna to warm up his latest interview subject – Spider-Man! Of course, Spidey is only there for information that can help out his sister, but in exchange, he agrees to a no-holds-barred exclusive interview with the man who used to slander him for profit.

The interview doesn’t start off well, and quickly becomes a heated argument between the two on why Spider-Man wears a mask, and why Jameson hates him for it. The two trade verbal attacks about the other’s role in the creation of super-villains, destruction of property, and death, before just straight up calling each-other cowards and bullies.

If last issue suffered because it was too plot heavy to give room for characters to breathe, than this issue is an incredible course correction. Anything relevant to the plot of the arc is sidelined for the raw catharsis of Spider-Man and Jameson finally just letting everything out. And the issue ends up becoming a complete disrobing of Jameson as Spidey slowly digs into why he’s hung onto this grudge through becoming mayor, the death of everyone close to him, and getting fired from the Bugle. Like Zdarsky’s best issues, there’s more than a twinge of meloncholy through the issue, as he reveals how broken this character has been. That sorta thing has become his specialty, it seems – making jokey characters kinda depressing.

Walsh is the perfect artist for this issue. His style, much like Doc Shaner or Darwyn Cooke’s, evokes an older time in comics, with thick charcoal-y hatching and shading, and uneven outlines. Plus, no spaghetti webs! This is matched by Herring’s muted and watercolor-textured colors. The aged affect of the art is epitomized by a single flashback panel made to resemble Ditko’s original Spider-Man work; and it’s amazing how solid a throughline you can make from his style to Walsh’s.

It’s also scary impressive how much emotion he can draw out of Spider-Man’s mask, like…there’s seething anger in one panel that comes across through the mask despite any and all reason.

Black Bolt #7

Finally free from the prison, Black Bolt makes his way back to Earth, but not before a pit-stop to return Monsteroso to his home planet. He’s reckoning with the loss of his voice and the PTSD from his time in the prison. Also on board is Blinky, who has her own nightmares, only hers can manifest physically, and require Black Bolt to destroy before they could actually harm her.

Very much a breather issue after the conclusion of the last arc, Ahmed writes an issue with almost no threat or urgency that isn’t just in one of the characters heads, excepting for a short space-dogfight at the end. The tone is complimented by guest artist Frazer Irving’s soft, dreamlike art. Irving’s style is almost the complete opposite of Ward’s hyperactive neon trips, almost resembling a children’s picture book; but is equally gorgeous to the work Ward has done on the series, and fits just as nicely into Ahmed’s story. This is easily the most beautiful single I picked up this week, and proves that Black Bolt is one Marvel book you should be reading even on “off” months.

Crosswind #5

Juniper’s guys follow Cruz to Mika’s house, where he’s just finished beating her up. Then he kills two of the three guys Case sent to kill him, and promises to kill Cason as well. Then he gets a visit from the mysterious old man who swapped Cason and Juniper, who explains the situation and why he did it. So now, Cruz is out to kill June and her family as well.

Cason overhears the old man’s voice over the phone as he threatens to kill him, and knows enough of Cruz to prepare for him to make the trip to Seattle. Juniper catches up with Mika and tells her everything that’s been going on, and they both decide to try and cut Cruz off in Seattle.

Meanwhile, thanks to Cason’s advice, Kelly’s finally making friends at school. And he comes home to his step-mom finally giving his dad what he deserves.

While I didn’t really think the body-swap needed an explanation, I’m very glad that it happened essentially out of pettiness. The man who did it did so because they both refused to sell him their plane tickets so that he could see his wife before she died. It’s like something out of a myth, a god ruining your life because you were rude to them in disguise. It really may as well have been random.

Staggs continues to do wonders just with the main characters’ postures, like how June still holds her towel up to her chest as though to cover breasts, or how Case sits with a wide stance even in a dress.

Paper Girls #17

Charlotte finally fills the girls in on the time-travel war that they’ve found themselves caught in the middle of: The teens who’ve been helping the girls are time travellers from at least 70,000AD who go back in time to right wrongs; and are are fighting against the “old-timers”, the first generation born after the invention of time-travel, who try to prevent anyone from interfering with the timestream. She was told this by a friend of the same time travellers who rescued Erin’s life; and even though she seems legit, if not a little eccentric; Mac doesn’t trust her completely. And when Mac tries to tell this to KJ, and also calls Charlotte a lesbian, KJ comes out to Mac, who is shocked once she realizes what KJ just told her.

Meanwhile, Tiff escapes from the overturned police car amid the giant robot battle happening around her, and manages to make it to her parents house, where she finds a mysterious goth sitting in her living room, and claiming to be married to her!

It only took seventeen issues, but we finally have an idea of what’s going on in Paper Girls! Yay! Not that I minded much, obviously; I was enjoying it either way, but it is cool to have some more context. And that moment between Mac and KJ is *mwah* perfect. Their faces! So good! Besides that though, this is mainly an exposition issue; with Tiff’s scenes being almost completely wordless. I still love how the teen’s mech is just an EVA though – that’s fantastic.

Uber: Invasion #9

The unique Battleship Churchill – Leah – and a thirteen year old battleship candidate named Tamara rendezvous with Patton’s forces as he crosses the alps. The Germans have him walled off with a small squad of Ubers, expertly positioned to prevent his further movement despite his superior forces. Luckily, Churchill’s arrival provides him with inspiration for an attack the Germans could never see coming.

I won’t say how, because it’s one of the most amazing action sequences in recent comics memory, but needless to say, the issue ends with the Allies winning big, and possibly turning the tide of the war.

Leah is the star of this issue, and oh boy does she earn it. She’s a gentle giant, possibly the strongest single character in the franchise, and someone you do not want to be on the wrong side of. Gete draws her to make her basically a Totoro on one page, and then the Hulk on another. Generally there’s a distance between Uber’s characters and the reader because of the book’s narration taking the form of an objective post-war narration, but you really end up rooting for Leah, and not just because she’s ripping Nazis to pieces.

Comic Reviews 11/1/17 Batman: The Dark Prince Charming - Book One Italian comics artist Enrico Marini dives into the Superhero genre in a big way with his take on the most popular hero of them all, and so far, he hasn’t changed much.

#batman #black bolt #crosswind #dc comics #enrico marini #green arrow #harley quinn #invasion #j jonah jameson #joker #lois lane #paper girls #peter parker #sean gordon murphy #spider-man #superman #the dark prince charming #uber #white knight

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chorusfm · 7 years

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Sir Sly on Repurposing Tragedy with ‘Don’t You Worry, Honey’

On the eve of the release of their sophomore album, I sat down with the trio from Sir Sly at the El Rey Theatre in Los Angeles to discuss their excitement about the new music, the breakout success of “High,” the personal events behind the album, and why they never want to be outworked. This interview has been edited for length and clarity. How’s album release week going? Hayden Coplen: Busy. Landon Jacobs: Yeah, prerelease week has been buuusy, with like nine u’s. We’ve been doing production rehearsals, a lot of running around town, and meetings and interviews. It’s been great, though. Hayden put it best a minute ago. He said, “It’s absolutely worth putting all the time and energy into supporting the album, because it wouldn’t feel right not to.” We put so much energy into making the album that it would be completely wrong to not put all that energy into supporting it as well. Coplen: Did you see the Radiohead oral history that was out? The Rolling Stone one? Yeah, yeah. Coplen: There’s that one part, I can’t remember if it’s Jonny or Thom, where he says, “We had to earn the right to go away.” That was their goal as a band, which I thought was really interesting. Now you think of them as a band that is very picky, says no to a lot of stuff, but they were saying we said yes until we had earned the right to say no. That’s a fair approach. I like that approach. Does it feel a lot different than when you released your first album? Coplen: Yeah. Jacobs: The excitement surrounding this album release has felt very different, even from things like radio interviews and stuff. The people asking us questions, there’s that intangible feeling people care more this time around. Maybe that’s because it’s obvious we care more. Coplen: I think there’s more to grab onto, honestly. Showing personality can be hard. To be candid, we felt that on the first album in a lot of ways. Jacobs: It was easier to be mysterious than it was to come across as confident, normal folks who are just pursuing what we love to do, which is making music. The making of the second album, there was no way we could come out on the other side and not feel confident about what we did, because we spent so much time on it. Even to make the songs the way we did, for me to write about the things I did lyrically, I had to take a leap of faith in some ways. The fact that Jason and Hayden were so supportive and confident in me throughout that time too did wonders for us feeling like we could really step out and do what we want to do in music videos and talk about ourselves the way we want to be able to talk about ourselves. It seems the excitement that people have waiting for the album to come out, or the questions they have about it, is a little more earnest. It seems that everyone is a little more excited than they were for the first album. Does Chase Kensrue still tour with you guys? Jacobs: He does not, unfortunately. There’s a hole in our heart that we filled with a giant plush brain, and some lighting and some gear. That’s maybe the easiest reason. Coplen: We wish they were here. Touring is hard. Jacobs: There’s a big gap in between. Coplen: Yeah, there’s a big gab between being a small band and being a band that can adequately support everyone. Jacobs: That first album cycle we were not quite kids, but I don’t really feel like I was an adult, though. This break of two years since we last toured in earnest is that exact timeline where if we’re not on the road, it’s time for us to move on and pursue other things. So we gave them a pat on the back and blessings. Hopefully we can keep on getting more gear to fill that hole in our hearts [laughter]. You’re originally from over there in Orange County, right? Jacobs: Yeah, so we grew up listening to Thrice. Jason Suwito: We grew up in Mission Viejo and Irvine. Jacobs: I remember the first time I met Chase. I was like, “You look eerily familiar.” Coplen: I was inner fanboying when Dustin was at the show. Jacobs: We went and got Mexican food with him one time, and I was like, “Dude, I saw you guys at the Wiltern!” It was Thrice, Brand New and mewithoutYou. Those were like my three favorite bands in one concert back then. I was like, “Oh my god!!” And then I’m sharing nachos that were made on Doritos with Dustin. Dustin was like, “You gotta try these [laughter].” Coplen: In between talking about C.S. Lewis. Jacobs: I was like, “Sure, I guess I’ll try some Doritos with cheese melted on top of them.” It was insane. So I know you went through some stuff in between records, which shows up on the album a lot. What was it like putting that into words and writing about it? Jacobs: A lot nicer than living in it. One of my favorite quotes about songwriting is Bjork saying it’s like exorcising demons, which doesn’t sound like much of a choice. Either you live with demons inside of you or you have to figure a way to get them out. The moment I read that I was like, Yeah, that’s exactly what it feels like. If I let these things sit and fester, I don’t find a way to creatively work through them. I like to categorize things in that way. So the album and writing these lyrics was one part necessity and another part a fun adventure of figuring out how to repurpose all these really shitty things that happened in my life into something that felt like I had purpose in. Loving music as much as I do, I wanted to make something I was so proud of that every night on tour I could go back and be thankful for the fact I get to repurpose three really difficult years into what I feel like is an amazing album. In one of your other interviews I was reading you said you wanted to write about tragedy but still have it be a fun album. Jacobs: Yeah. Similarly as I was going through when my mom died and as I got divorced, I was living alone for the first time ever in my life. I was also going out in L.A. and stuff. I was beginning to really love certain types of dance music, and dancing myself. We would go to Funky Soul Night at the Echo or whatever it was. Or I’d be alone in my apartment, dancing to Prince. I realized I wanted something that was fun for people to come and see live. We all wanted that because life is equally serious, and should be. People are always striving to have that levity, to be able to turn something tragic into something positive. The fact that we’re all still here is cause for celebration. That was kind of the thing. I have to sit and take a mental image when I’m getting stressed or getting anxious, like when we had a really difficult travel day. But at the end of it, I’m like, “Wow, that was a nightmare. But nobody’s sick. Nobody’s hurt. Nobody’s going to die. We all made it.” That’s something I’ve been constantly reminding myself of. This album, because of that, I wanted to have cause for celebration. If you come out to a show, we’re not here to weigh you down. We’re here to commiserate, to share what we’ve been through, and then hopefully to uplift each other. That’s the goal of the human experience. Coplen: I think the truth is, too, that there’s been a lot of joy. As we’re preparing for this, we’re working harder than we’ve ever worked, but we’re humming along. I have this visual like we’re above the fray. It feels really good. There’s not a lot of resistance. Everyone is in lockstep, from the band members to the team. It’s a really rare feeling. I think a lot of it stems from the record ultimately being a bit of a celebration. Jacobs: There’s a bit of magic to not taking yourself so seriously that it’s like, My mom died, therefore I have to be a sad, sappy sack of shit for the next album. There was a freedom in being able to say I still like having a good time. I miss my mom, but my mom wouldn’t want me to wallow away and make the equivalent of a Conor Oberst, drinking a gallon of vodka a day, weeping alone in my room record. That’s not the way I want to look back and see how I handled these past couple years. And, yeah, getting divorced is sad, but it’s also freeing. So there is a bit of that, too. There is the juxtaposition of the depth of grief, but I was living in a pretty free situation as well. We all wanted to reflect that accurately through the making of the record. What’s it been like seeing “High” get as big as it’s gotten so far? Jacobs: Magical. It’s the best. Apart from writing the song in the first place, and apart from making the album in the first place, the best feeling in the world is having people appreciate what you do and take it into their own. People don’t listen to music lightly. Some people do, but a lot of people are very specific about the kind of music they choose. It means a great deal to them. People are proud of their music tastes. In order to break through that barrier and have so many people love the song, it’s even nicer now that I stop and think. Everybody has their own unique taste and it’s really cool to be accepted that way by so many different people. It’s great. Coplen: Today I was doing an interview on that same point. We ended up talking about people disliking songs. When we wrote it, we all had a very good feeling about “High.” I brought up the example of Landon’s brother, who heard it and was like, “Oh, I don’t like that song.” Jacobs: He got through the first pre-chorus where it goes “Feels good to be…” and then the chorus came on and he turned it off. We were driving in his car. He turned it off and was like, “I don’t like that one.” I was like, “OK, let’s go into Walgreens.” He was like, “I don’t mean to be a dick.” And I was like, “No, it’s good.” If we can make something that some people don’t like, hopefully it means that other people are going to love it. Instead of it being in an acceptable middle range where everybody goes, “Eh, that’s OK music.” I’d rather have some people go, “I hate that. It reminds me of this other thing I hate.” And then somebody else goes, “I love that for these reasons.” I’d rather be polarizing than be the lowest common denominator that everybody can enjoy. Was the video fun to shoot? Jacobs: Absolutely. Suwito: Yeah, that was the funnest one. Jacobs: It was one of the hardest days. I’ve never seen a group of people work that hard just in general, from the people part of set design to the choreographer to the crew to Kevin, who directed it. All these people were running around on set, working crazy and so hard. But at the end of the day, it seemed like everybody was energized. They were either friends of friends or people who’ve worked together before. It was a really fun, open environment. And also they saw how hard we were working, too. It’s nice when everybody is in that same space together and you can look around and see everybody working hard. Nobody is slacking off or not giving a shit. Even at the end of a very long day, which was at the end of a very long week and after a couple long months of making this music video, it was nice to feel like everybody had given 100 percent. We had all worked tirelessly and it didn’t seem like there was any bitterness across the board from anybody that had worked on it. Which is a testament to hopefully the fun we wanted to have making the video and our resolution to never have anybody work harder than we work on our own stuff. I don’t want anybody to ever put us on their back and to look back with any bitterness. I want to know we gave it our all and everybody else is happy to work on the stuff we’re working on, because we care more than anybody else possibly could. What’s the story behind getting the Donnie Trumpet sample on “Change?” How did that idea come out? Coplen: That was me. There was a time where we were like, “Why did we ever do that?” And then we cleared it and were able to release the album, which is amazing. They were actually really gracious. But that one, I was on a plane. It was in the middle of writing. On a plane I love to mess with stuff, but it’s really hard to actually write. So I’m just manipulating different sounds or messing with cool drums. I was like, “Ah, let’s try to sample this.” “Miracle” is this amazing song that has such a unique feel to it. It’s very optimistic, and at the same time very morose and washed out. I ended up grabbing a piece of the end, pitching it up and using this guitar sample. In my head, it was a little bit like College Dropout-era Kanye. I don’t think it ultimately sounds like that, but that was something going through my head. Like, how warm his beats would always feel. They were so comfortable and nostalgic. It was like hanging out with an old friend or something. That’s what I was going for. Jacobs: Ironically enough, I don’t know if originally it was the pull subconsciously, but the lyric is something along the lines of “It’s a miracle to be alive.” We all knew the song, but it had been a while until I had paid attention to the lyrics. We had just been hearing that sample over and over. So the other day I went back and listened to it again, and it was so crazy. Sometimes there’s those little serendipitous moments, like that lyric is so close to what this album was for me lyrically. So to go back and hear that, I was able to go, “Yeah, that’s exactly why that sample was chosen. There is that feeling in that song.” And that goes for all the samples we use. There’s an immediate sonic and emotional pull, like, That’s this album right there. That’s that song. And we’d build from that moment. We’d never used samples before, but at the end of the day, it feels like we’re right at home using samples as a part of making an album. I think it’s something we’ll continue to do in the future. How about “Altar?” What was it like writing that song? Jacobs: That was one that started from a sample as well. Jason had made that instrumental flute thing. Suwito: Yeah, it was from an old TV theme. Jacobs: The chord progression he ended up making by repitching it brought out a really strange melody, something I don’t think I had ventured to do before. I actually had written this poem, a long metaphor using worshipping at an altar as a euphemism for oral sex. That was how it started. The poem is like three times as long as the lyrics are in the song. It turned into I had put her up on a pedestal, or the idea of love and marriage or whatever it was. I was raised very Evangelical Christian. My parents got married when they were 18, and her parents had gotten married when they were 18. My grandparents had gotten married when they were in their early 20s. It was what everybody in my family did, and has continued to do. I had put it up as this finish line, this point where you get there and coast through the rest of life because you’ve found the person you’re going to marry and be with forever. That song was the product of that disillusionment. The starkness of the lyrics informed the way we built off that original instrumentation. The ending with the tones of gospel music comes from a place of Hayden and I growing up and playing music in church. It works really nicely with the sample. That last bit of lyrics is probably my favorite moment on the album lyrically, using my mom’s voice as a monologue telling me how to weather the storm. We originally started making this album all about my fear and anxiety. We had really minimal electronic songs and these very scared and afraid lyrics. That moment is the exact opposite. It’s me talking to myself through my mom’s voice. It’s kind of like the voicemail on “Oh Mama.” I’m always worried that will make me cry every time I hear it, so playing it onstage can be a little rollercoaster. Let’s close with “Oh Mama” then, since that’s one of the centerpieces on the album. Did the idea for that song come first? Did the music? How did you pair the two together? Jacobs: That was a song we started writing shortly after my mom had died, which was March 2016. It was totally different. It started out with a different instrumental that Jason had been working on. It was much faster. Then we ended up writing a chorus for that song, and the verse and the chorus didn’t feel quite right. So we scrapped that whole song, but I knew I always wanted to come back to working that chorus out. When Jason showed us the new instrumentals, I had also recently had a dream about my mom. We were in San Francisco. It was me, her and my dad in this apocalypse type of setting. There was all this weird stuff happening, and it stuck with me. I was in the dream telling her how difficult life has been ever since she died. She was sitting, listening, but I wasn’t explicitly saying since you died. I was saying life has been really hard. She wasn’t talking, and I was like, Oh. Maybe she doesn’t know. She had brain cancer, so she couldn’t remember things very well. She had no short-term memory, so then she couldn’t form long-term memories. In my dream, I was thinking maybe she forgot she’s supposed to be dead and that she’s not allowed to be here visiting me. That was how those verses ended up getting started, and then we took that chorus and repurposed it into the song. Did you use an actual choir for the end? Coplen: Yeah, they were awesome. They did “Altar” and “Oh Mama.” We had them for a taped live performance at one point. Jacobs: That was another really interesting thing. We used a sample from the famous movie The Color Purple in “Trippin.’” There’s that gospel line from a scene in the movie, and one of the singers was actually in the movie and a part of the recording. The choir director also co-wrote and worked on it. He was like, “I know that.” We were like, “How do you know it?” And he’s like, “I worked on it.” We were like, “Oh!” [laughter] So that was another strange, serendipitous moment. It’s been really fun. When you work as hard as we did on this album, you end up running into all kinds of strange little fun coincidences. It makes the world a lot smaller when you extend your inspirations and extend the musical boundaries. You end up running into all kinds of things like that. Don’t You Worry, Honey is out now on Spotify and Apple Music. For more information, find Sir Sly on Facebook and Twitter. --- Please consider supporting us so we can keep bringing you stories like this one. ◎ https://chorus.fm/interviews/sir-sly-on-repurposing-tragedy-with-dont-you-worry-honey/

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