#//Oz was already such long before I even knew either though | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

there-must-be-a-lock · 4 years ago

Text

Blind Spot

Spencer Reid x (Gender Neutral) Reader

Word Count: 2640

Warnings: Hair pulling kink! Bucketloads of sexual tension but no actual sex. Gratuitous facts about bird nests. Dorks being oblivious. Lots of fluffy heart-eyed banter. Accusations of intercourse with fictional tree-beasts.

A/N: I saw a gif that made me want to pull Spencer’s hair. That’s it. I have zero shame.

For the “friends to lovers” square on my @cmbingo card! Proofread by @fangirlxwritesx67 because she’s the best.

“You look like you fucked an Ent,” you commented cheerfully, stealing sideways glances at Spencer while you waited for the light to change.

“Thanks, that’s helpful.” He grimaced, trying to tug another burr out of a snarled curl.

“Oh my god, you’re just making it worse! I’ll help you when we get back to your place. Leave it, you goober.”

“Did you just call me a goober?” Spencer asked, trying not to laugh.

“You’re like the dictionary definition of a goober,” you said fondly.

“I have three PhDs!”

“I really wish I’d gotten a video of that tumble, Doctor Goober.”

Spencer was blushing, grinning down at his lap as he shredded a piece of leaf. It was hard not to stare at him when he smiled like that.

He’d essentially face-planted into a burr bush earlier, somewhere in the Virginia woods — he’d been so excited about explaining some wonky bit of Star Trek physics theory to you that he just forgot to pay attention to his feet — and he’d floundered out with half a hedge stuck in his hair before picking up exactly where he’d left off.

In other words, Doctor Spencer Reid was a ridiculous human being. You knew that, objectively. It didn’t stop you from having a massive crush on him.

Either he was pretending not to notice, to spare your feelings, or he was socially oblivious; you tended to believe the former, considering how well you’d seen him read other people, but you appreciated it. There was a chance you’d make it out of this — if you could just get over it already — with your friendship intact.

You cleared your throat and told him, “You look like the bastard child of Grandmother Willow and the Wizard of Oz scarecrow.”

“Even if they were real, the anatomical —”

“You didn’t mention that when I brought up the Ents. Something you want to tell me about you and Treebeard?”

“You’re ridiculous,” he huffed, trying to sound exasperated, but he could barely keep a straight face for a second before he was laughing, that scratchy sunny childish giggle that only came out when he was really relaxed and carefree.

“Close the window before a bird sees you and decides to take up residence.”

“How about you watch the road?”

“What, no facts about bird nests?”

“Is that a rhetorical question?”

“Nope.”

“Well in that case… gyrfalcon nests are frequently re-used and passed along for generations. The oldest one that’s been discovered was in Greenland, and it was actually estimated to be approximately 2,500 years old.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes! In fact…”

You had to remind yourself, yet again, to stop staring.

Maybe someday you’d get sick of hearing Spencer talk, but you couldn’t really understand the way most of your teammates reacted to his rambling. Even if you didn’t care about what he was saying, there was something amazing about the way his eyes lit up and his hands fluttered around to illustrate his point.

You parked in front of his building and followed him upstairs. His apartment had become comfortingly familiar — ever since you and Spencer bonded over a shared love of sci-fi, you’d taken to driving him home and, if it wasn’t too late, sticking around for an episode or two of Doctor Who.

He got his ancient little DVD player up and running, and you settled on the couch, fluffing pillows and shoving aside his nest of colorful crocheted blankets, getting cozy. There was something about Spencer’s space that always felt like home; maybe it was the smell of books, or just the general Spencer-ness of the whole place.

Just being around him had always kinda felt like home, too. Sometimes you forgot you’d only known him for six months.

He disappeared into his room for a second and came back with a comb. It was cheap plastic, missing a couple teeth, and looked like it hadn’t been used in a while. You looked from him to the comb and back again.

“That actually explains a lot,” you said, grinning. Spencer rolled his eyes and sat down on the floor in front of you, leaning back against your shins, and after a dismayed glance at his curls, you commented, “We could always just shave it all off.”

“I’m not going to dignify that with an answer,” he said primly.

You started with a couple of the less tangled pieces, finger-combing carefully through one soft lock at a time. You half-expected some comment about primates and social grooming, or at least a few facts about the quantum theory behind the TARDIS, but Spencer was uncharacteristically quiet and still, his eyes fixed on the TV.

You separated out one of the worst knots, and he tilted his head to the side to give you better access. You were being as gentle as possible, but you knew you were hurting him at the first tug — he sucked in a breath, knuckles going white as his fingers clenched on his knees.

“Sorry, I’m trying,” you sighed.

With his head tilted like this, you could see the muscle clenching in his jaw and the way his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard.

“S’okay,” he whispered hoarsely. “It’s not — not your fault.”

He sat there stiffly as you worked. His hair was silky, where it wasn’t hopelessly knotted, and you were close enough that you could smell whatever clean, sweet shampoo he used. Something about it made you want to hold your breath; it felt like you were too close. Spencer rarely let you inside his little bubble of personal space.

Maybe that was why he seemed uncomfortable. He was usually so fidgety, tapping out a rhythm or twirling a pen between his long fingers, and it was strange to see him motionless like this.

You ran your fingers through a de-tangled section, slow and careful, and Spencer shivered, his shoulders trembling for a moment before he went unnaturally still again.

Spencer blurted out, “Maybe this isn’t a good idea.”

At the same time, you asked, “Are you cold?”

You paused for a moment, surprised by the reaction, but after hesitating, Spencer just muttered, “Yeah. Cold.”

You couldn’t shake the feeling that you were missing something. It was too warm, if anything; Spencer had a patchy flush crawling up his neck and over the sharp lines of his jaw and cheekbones.

“Here you go, goober,” you said, awkwardly cheerful in an attempt to cover your uncertainty as you grabbed an afghan from the couch and draped it around his shoulders.

“Thanks.” He pulled the blanket down onto his lap without looking at you. “But maybe I should just do this myself.”

“You’re never gonna get this loose on your own, not without scissors,” you warned, plucking at the knot around the last burr in his hair. “I’ll just, um — I’ll try to be more gentle.”

“Maybe just go for it,” he said. “Get it over with.” His voice had gone all high-pitched and strained, like he was on the verge of a panic attack. If this was how much he disliked physical contact, no wonder he always avoided hugging you.

You tried to go quickly, figuring that one quick moment of pain was better than another ten minutes of making Spencer uncomfortable. In your nervousness, you ended up tugging the burr out much more abruptly than you’d intended, and Spencer let out this rough, low, choked-off sound. Before you could apologize, he was jerking away from you, curled in on himself with his shoulders up around his ears like he was worried you were going to hit him, and —

“Sorry,” he said, voice cracking.

— what?

“Spence?” you said tentatively. “What—”

He was still just curled up on the floor in a ball of gangly limbs, but he half-turned to you, twisting around. He wouldn’t make eye contact, though; he was staring intently at the pillow that was on the couch next to you. It felt weird, looking down at him like this, so you slid down onto the floor, hoping it wouldn’t spook him. He shifted back slightly, but at least he didn’t flinch away.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “I didn’t — this was a bad idea.”

The profiler in you couldn’t help but notice a few details. He was blushing, for starters. His lower lip was red where he’d been biting it, and — this was the part that surprised you most — his pupils were huge.

You knew what Spencer looked like when he was panicking, and this wasn’t it.

“Oh,” you breathed. “Oh.”

He looked down at his lap, frowning as he played with the loose thread in the cuff of his sweater.

“Sorry,” he repeated. “I know you don’t feel the same way, I wasn’t trying to — I didn’t realize it would be like that, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, and—”

“Wait, what?”

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable! I shouldn’t have asked—”

“I don’t feel the same way about what?”

“I know you’re not attracted to me,” Spencer said, barely audible.

“You’re… you…what?”

He looked up, at that, genuinely startled. There was something sweet and vulnerable shining in his eyes, and your heart was racing. You slid a little bit closer, so that your knees were almost touching Spencer’s as you faced each other, cross-legged.

“I thought you knew.” His hushed, croaky voice broke on the last word. “I thought I was being obvious.”

You gaped at him for a second before letting out a sharp, hysterical giggle.

He ducked his head again, hiding behind a curtain of hair, but not before you saw the hurt expression that flashed across his features.

“No, that’s not—” you blurted out. “Spence. Spencer.”

“Forget it,” he said sharply, his body going tense like he was about to bolt. “Can we just forget this happened?”

Before you could think better of it, you reached out and pushed a few curls back behind his ear, and then you grabbed, twisting your fingers in his hair to tug him forward. You cut off the startled noise he made with a clumsy, eager kiss.

The angle was all wrong, both of you leaning forward awkwardly, but it felt like sparks all down your spine.

You pulled away just far enough to get the words out: “I thought I was being obvious.”

Then Spencer was surging closer on his hands and knees, crowding into your space, until you had a lapful of rumpled doctor pressing you back against the couch. He cupped your jaw with gentle spidery fingers, gaze locked on your mouth, and leaned in slowly like he was still waiting for you to push him away.

There was nothing awkward about it this time. If the first kiss was sparks, this was fireworks — it was such a goddamn cliche you wanted to kick yourself for thinking it, but it was true. Your head was spinning. Every pillowy press of his lips and soft slide of his tongue seemed to steal the breath from your lungs.

By the time you broke apart you were panting, but at least you weren’t the only one. Spencer’s chest heaved as he pulled away. He was still staring at your mouth like he couldn’t help himself. Part of you wanted to kiss him again and maybe never stop, but another part of you was paralyzed, trying to process the fact that this was actually happening.

You just wanted to put the world on pause so that you could memorize everything: the way he licked his lips, the smell of his laundry detergent, the barely-perceptible movement of his pulse — you’d never seen that before because you’d never been this close to him before. You wanted to hold onto it, even the less-than-perfect details — the soundtrack of buzzy Dalek screeching in the background — the way you were folded together on the floor, all too-long legs and bony elbows, which was going to get uncomfortable fast.

Spencer seemed to feel the same way. He grazed the pad of his thumb over your lower lip, then followed the curve of your smile out to your temple and traced the shell of your ear with careful fingertips. When he brushed his curled-up fingers along the ridge of your cheekbone, you turned your head and kissed his knuckles.

His hand came to rest on your shoulder, and you wrapped your fingers around his wrist, holding it in place, feeling the blood and bones shifting under the skin.

“You really didn’t know?” you whispered.

He shook his head shyly and gave you one of those incandescent smiles that always made your heart race. “No idea.”

“I thought you were just ignoring it to spare my feelings,” you confessed.

“I thought you were doing that.”

“I thought you were good at your job!” you laughed. “Aren’t you supposed to be a genius or something?”

“I think I have a blind spot, where you’re concerned.” He was blushing again. “But I was so distracted by you that I walked into a bush! How did you not —”

“I’m the one who stares at you all the time like a creep.”

“You thought you were being creepy?” he said sheepishly. “As soon as you started touching my hair — oh my god that’s embarrassing.”

“That’s not the word I would’ve used.”

You tangled your fingers in his curls, tugging experimentally. His breath hitched.

Both of you were utterly still for a moment, watching each other, and the tension between you seemed to fill the air like a living thing. You were excruciatingly aware of all the places your bodies were touching.

You considered all the places you could touch. It would be so easy. You could tug him in, kiss him, melt into each other… there were so many possibilities, suddenly, and there was something incredible about that: the electricity, the excitement, the moment of pure potential in the pause between certainty and action.

Spencer sighed, long and shaky, and you were so close that you could feel the current of exhaled air.

“I couldn’t think straight,” he murmured, with a twitch of a smile. “That doesn’t happen to me often.”

“So you didn’t know…”

You scritched your fingernails down his scalp, marveling at the way he shivered and swayed closer like he was hypnotized. He curled his hand around the side of your neck, thumb slowly stroking the hinge of your jaw.

“I knew I liked it,” he confessed. “But — within a certain context? Not out of nowhere like that. I didn’t think it would be... like that.”

“Like what?”

“Intense.”

“Yeah?”

“But I think maybe it’s just you.” His eyes had gone all glassy and heavy-lidded, and you could barely breathe. “Maybe you drive me crazy no matter where you’re touching me.”

“I can think of a few ways to test that hypothesis.”

You caught a glimpse of his grin, but then he pressed his forehead to yours and his features went blurry, too close for you to focus.

“Never really thought I’d be into dirty talk, but if you’re going to start quoting the scientific method…”

“Funny, most of the time you never shut up,” you said, giddy and overwhelmed.

The tip of his nose brushed yours. There was maybe an inch of space between your mouths, and you wanted to close that gap so badly it felt like a physical ache.

“I mean, if you want me to start rattling off statistics—”

“Spencer.” You fisted both hands in his hair, tugging sharply, and he shuddered. “Take a hint.”

“Blind spot, remember?” he whispered, lips brushing yours as they shaped the words, feather-light and maddening.

“You know, for a genius—” you started, but he kissed you, hungry and sweet like he was making up for lost time, until you’d completely forgotten what you were going to say.

There is now a sexy follow-up here!

If you enjoyed this, please reblog or leave a message!

#cmbingo21 #criminal minds fic #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer x reader fic

658 notes · View notes

lokiondisneyplus · 3 years ago

Text

A review of “Journey Into Mystery,” the penultimate Loki Season One episode on Disney+, coming up just as soon as I paper cut a giant cloud to death…

Journey Into Mystery was the title of the first Marvel comic to feature either Thor or Loki. It began as an anthology series featuring monsters and aliens, but Jack Kirby, Stan Lee, and Larry Lieber were so smitten with their adaptation of the characters of Norse myth that the Asgardians gradually took over the whole book, which was renamed after its hammer-wielding hero(*).

(*) The early Journey Into Mystery stories treated Thor’s alter ego, disabled Dr. Donald Blake, as the “real” character, while Thor was just someone Blake could magically transform into, while retaining his memories and personality. It wasn’t even clear whether Asgard itself was meant to exist at first, until Loki turned up on Earth in an early issue, caused trouble, and Blake/Thor somehow knew exactly how to get to Asgard to drop him off. Soon, the lines between Thor and Blake began to blur, and eventually Thor became the real guy, and Blake a fiction invented by Odin to humble his arrogant son. It’s a mark of just how instantly charismatic Loki was that the entire title quickly steered towards him and the other gods.

But once upon a time, anything was possible in Journey Into Mystery, which makes it an apt moniker for an absolutely wonderful episode of Loki where the same holds true. Our title characters are trapped in the Void, a place at the end of time where the TVA’s victims are banished to be devoured by a cloud monster named Alioth. And mostly they are surrounded by the wreckage of many dead timelines. Classic Loki insists that his group’s only goal is survival, and any kind of planning and scheming is doomed to kill the Loki who tries. But this ruined, hopeless world instead feels bursting with imagination and possibility.

There are the many Loki variants we see, with President Loki, among others, joining Classic, Kid, Boastful, and Alligator Loki. There are the metric ton of Easter Eggs just waiting to be screencapped by Marvel obsessives (I discuss a few of them down below), but which still suggest a much larger and weirder MCU even if you don’t immediately scream out “Is that… THROG?!?!?” at the appropriate moment. And all of that stuff is tons of fun, to be sure. But what makes this episode — and, increasingly, this series — feel so special is the way that it explores the untapped potential of Loki himself, in his many, many variations.

This is an episode that owes more than a small stylistic and thematic debt to Lost. It’s not just that Alioth looks and sounds so much like the Smoke Monster(*), that it makes a shared Wizard of Oz reference to “the man behind the curtain” (also the title of one of the very best Lost episodes), or even that the core group of Lokis are hiding in a bunker accessible via a hatch and a ladder that’s filled with recreational equipment (in this case, bowling alley lanes). It’s also that Loki, Sylvie, their counterparts, and Mobius have all been transported to a strange place that has disturbing echoes from their own lives, that operates according to strange new rules they have to learn while fleeing danger, and their presence there allows them to reflect on the many mistakes of their past and consider whether they want to, or can, transcend them.

(*) Yes, Alioth technically predates Smokey by a decade (see the notes below for more), but his look has been tweaked a bit here to seem more like smoke than a cloud, and the sounds he makes when he roars sound a lot like Smokey’s telltale taxi cab meter clicks. Given the other Lost hat tips in the episode, I have to believe Alioth was chosen specifically to evoke Smokey.

Classic Loki is aptly named. He wears the Sixties Jack Kirby costume, and he is a far more powerful magician than either Sylvie or our Loki have allowed themselves to be. He calls our Loki’s knives worthless compared to his sorcery, which feels like the show acknowledging that the movies depowered Loki a fair amount to make him seem cooler. But if Classic Loki can conjure up illusions bigger and more potent than his younger peers, he is a fundamentally weak and defeated man, convinced, like the others, that the only way to win the game into which he was born is not to play. “We cannot change,” he insists. “We’re broken. Every version of ourselves. Forever.” It is not only his sentiment — Kid Loki adds that any Loki who tries to improve inevitably winds up in the Void for their troubles — but it seems to have weighed on him longer and harder than most.

But Classic Loki takes inspiration from Loki and Sylvie to stand and fight rather than turn and run, magicking up a vision of their homeland to distract Alioth at a crucial moment in Sylvie’s plan, and getting eaten for his trouble. He was wrong: Lokis can change. (Though Kid Loki might once again argue that Classic Loki’s death is more evidence that the universe has no interest in any of them doing so.) And both Loki and Sylvie have been changing throughout their time together. Like most Lokis, they seem cursed to a life of loneliness. Sylvie learned as a child that a higher power believed she should not exist, and has spent a lifetime hiding out in places where any friends she might make will soon die in an apocalypse. Our Loki’s past isn’t quite so stark, but the knowledge that his birth father abandoned him, while his adoptive father never much liked him, have left permanent scars that govern a lot of his behavior. The defining element of Classic Loki’s backstory is that he spent a long time alone on a planet, and only got busted by the TVA when he attempted to reconnect with his brother and anyone else he once knew. This is a hard existence, for all of them. And while it does not forgive them their many sins(*), it helps contextualize them, and give them the knowledge to try to be better versions of themselves.

(*) Loki at one point even acknowledges that, for him, it’s probably only been a few days since he led an alien invasion of New York that left many dead, though due to TVA shenanigans, far more time may have passed.

For that matter, Mobius is not the stainless hero he once thought of himself as. While he and Sylvie are tooling around the Void in a pizza delivery car (because of course they are), he admits that he committed a lot of sins by believing that the ends justified the means, and was wrong. He doesn’t know who he is before the TVA stole and factory rebooted him, but he knows that he wants something better for himself and the universe, and takes the stolen TemPad to open up a portal to his own workplace in hopes of tearing down the TVA once and for all. Before he goes, though, he and Loki share a hug that feels a lot more poignant than it should, given that these characters have only spent parts of four episodes of TV together. It’s a testament to Hiddleston, Wilson, Waldron, and company (Tom Kauffman wrote this week’s script) that their friendship felt so alive and important in such a short amount of time.

The same can be said for Loki and Sylvie’s relationship, however we’re choosing to define it. Though they briefly cuddle together under a blanket that Loki conjures, they move no closer to romance than they were already. If anything, Mobius’ accusations of narcissism in last week’s episode seem to have made both of them pull back a bit from where they seemed to be heading back on Lamentis. But the connection between them is real, whatever exactly it is. And their ability to take down Alioth — to tap into the magic that Classic Loki always had, and to fulfill Loki’s belief that “I think we’re stronger than we realize” — by working together is inspiring and joyful. Without all this nuanced and engaging character work, Loki would still be an entertaining ride, but it’s the marriage of wild ideas with the human element that’s made it so great.

Of course, now comes the hard part. Endings have rarely been an MCU strength, give or take something like the climax of Endgame, and the finales of the two previous Disney+ shows were easily their weakest episodes. The strange, glorious, beautiful machine that Waldron and Herron have built doesn’t seem like it’s heading for another generic hero/villain slugfest, but then, neither did WandaVision before we got exactly that. This one feels different so far, though. The command of the story, the characters, and the tone are incredibly strong right now. There is a mystery to be solved about who is in the big castle beyond the Void (another Loki makes the most narrative and thematic sense to me, but we’ll see), and a lot to be resolved about what happens to the TVA and our heroes. And maybe there’s some heavy lifting that has to be done in service to the upcoming Dr. Strange or Ant-Man films.

It’s complicated, but on a show that has handled complexity well. Though even if the finale winds up keeping things simpler, that might work. As Loki notes while discussing his initial plan to take down Alioth, “Just because it’s not complicated doesn’t mean it’s bad.” Though as Kid Loki retorts, “It also doesn’t mean it’s good.”

Please be good, Loki finale. Everything up to this point deserves that.

Some other thoughts:

* Most of this week’s most interesting material happens in the Void. But the scenes back at the TVA clarify a few things. First, Ravonna is not the mastermind of all this, and she was very much suckered in by the Time-Keeper robots. But unlike Mobius or Hunter B-15, she’s so conditioned to the mission that even knowing it’s a lie hasn’t really swayed her from her mission. She has Miss Minutes (who herself is much craftier this week) looking into files about the creation of the TVA, but for the most part comes across as someone very happy with a status quo where she gets to be special and pass judgment on the rest of the multiverse.

* Alioth first appeared in 1993’s Avengers: The Terminatrix Objective, a miniseries (written by Mobius inspiration Mark Gruenwald, and with some extremely kewl Nineties art full of shoulder pads, studded collars, and the like) involving Ravonna, Kang, and the off-brand versions of Captain America, Iron Man, and Thor (aka U.S. Agent, War Machine, and Thunderstrike, the latter of whom has yet to appear in the MCU). It’s a sequel to a Nineties crossover event called Citizen Kang. And no, I still don’t buy that Kang will be the one pulling the strings here, if only because it’s really bad storytelling for the big bad of the season to have never appeared or even been mentioned prior to the finale.

* Rather than try to identify every Easter egg visible in the Void’s terrain, I’ll instead highlight three of the most interesting. Right before the Lokis arrive at the hatch, we see a helicopter with Thanos’ name on it. This is a hat tip to an infamous — and often memed — out-of-continuity story where Thanos flies this chopper while trying to steal the Cosmic Cube (aka the Tesseract) from Hellcat. (A little kid gets his hands on it instead and, of course, uses the Cube to conjure up free ice cream.) James Gunn has been agitating for years for the Thanos Copter to be in the MCU. He finally got his wish.

* The other funny one: When the camera pans down the tunnel into Kid Loki’s headquarters, we see Mjolnir buried in the ground, and right below it is a jar containing a very annoyed frog in a Thor costume. This is either Thor himself — whom Loki cursed into amphibianhood in a memorable Walt Simonson storyline — or another character named Simon Walterston (note the backwards tribute to Walt) who later assumed the tiny mantle.

* Also, in one scene you can spot Yellowjacket’s helmet littering the landscape. This might support the theory that the TVA, the Void, etc., all exist in the Quantum Realm, since that’s where the MCU version of Yellowjacket probably went when his suit shorted out and he was crushed to subatomic size. Or it might be more trolling of the fanbase from the company that had WandaVision fans convinced that Mephisto, the X-Men, and/or Reed Richards would be appearing by the season finale.

* Honestly, I would have watched an entire episode that was just Loki, Mobius, and the others arguing about whether Alligator Loki was actually a Loki, or just a gator who ended up with the crown, presumably after eating a real Loki. The suggestion that the gator might be lying — and that this actually supports, rather than undermines, the case for him being a Loki — was just delightful. And hey, if Throg exists in the MCU now, why not Alligator Loki?

* Finally, the MCU films in general are not exactly known for their visual flair, though a few directors like Taika Waititi and Ryan Coogler have been able to craft distinctive images within the franchise’s usual template. Loki, though, is so often wonderful to look at, and particularly when our heroes are stuck in strange environments like Lamentis or the Void. Director Kate Herron and the VFX team work very well together to create dynamic and weird imagery like Sylvie running from Alioth, or the chaotic Loki battle in the bowling alley. Between this show and WandaVision, it appears the Disney+ corner of the MCU has a bit more room to expand its palette. (Falcon and the Winter Soldier, much less so.)

#Loki #spoilers #episode 5 #review #Rolling Stone #Alan Sepinwall

77 notes · View notes

calliecat93 · 4 years ago

Text

In all seriousness, regardles sof if you like him or hate him, I don’t think there’s any doubt that Ironwood’s character arc and ultimate downfall were one of the best written character pieces int he whole show. I still remember back in Volume2 and 3 where we all were unsure how to feel about him. He had his good moments like complimenting Ruby for her heroics and his utter badasser at the end of Volume 3... but he also essentially stabbed Ozpin in the back and his stubbirness and pride regardign Atlas and military right was storng from the get-go. Then in Volume 4 since they only had him around when Jaques was, who by all accounts was FAR more detestable, Ironwood looked even better... until the very end when he locked down the borders and made it clear that he had learned nothing. For three straight volumes, the writers made sure to keep tipping the scales. There were so many questionable moments with Ironwood that raised plenty of red flags, but he had just enough sympathetic moments like talking to Glynda about feeling like Oz won’t trust him and sympathizing with Yang evenfi he still disqualified Team RWBY to make him likable and make it plausible that he COULD still become better.

Even in Volume 7 it continued. His actions such as causing Mantle to suffer and his growing paranoia again raised a ton of flags and they were growing a lot harder to justify. But at the same time he had a plan that COULD work in place and with his clear trauma and the whole situation being as tough as it is, one could allow some sympathy. When he finally listened, opened up tot he Council and Robyn, and began evacuations for Mantle as well as fighting Watts, it seemed like he FINALLY did it. He finally learned from his mistakes. he’s finally being the hero that he presented him as. He made a Hell lot of mistakes that need reconciling, but he was now ont he right path. Things were finally, FINALLY going right with him...

Until he saw that chess piece.

With that, the house of cards came tumbling down. Ironwood reverted right back to his worst urges, except this time to the point of no return. His plan to raise Atlas was already insane, but how he coldly confirmed that yes, he knew that he was sentencing Mantle to death. It was a horrible, horrible thing even fi one could find the stream of logic to it. But that wasn’t what ultimately sealed his fall. In the end it was when he snapped at, and then show down, Oscar and in turn Ozpin. That moment was him rejecting the only person left who was willing to reason with him. The last stream of his councious. In the end, he decided to succumb to his paranoia and self-delusion that he is right, and shot at a teenaged boy who had done nothing to him except try to help him. That was the point of no return.

All through Volume 8, he hit low after low. Killing Councilman Sleet simply to shut him up. Having Watts infect Penny with the virus, not caring at all about her life. After all to him,s he’s just another robot under his control, why should he? All throughout he is clearly unhinged with no one either able to or too afraid to do anythign against him less they get a bullet to the brain. Then in Chapter 10 he not only has clear murderous intentions for Qrow, but he decides to bomb Mantle to force Penny to surrender herself... and in the very next chapter decides to do it whether she agrees or not. Yes, Ironwood is willing to kill an entire city just to have the vault opened, and hoenstly I think there’s also a lot of petty spiteful reasons as well. Spite against Penny for going against his control. Against the heroes for turning against him for Mantle. Against Mantle for always seeming to be a problem, one that he can now eliminate for good. Then when Marrow decides that he’s had enough and quits, Ironwood is fully prepared to shoot him and it’s only Winter’s quick actions that saves him. Even though Marrow didn’t even tryt o strike Ironwood, the general decided to kill him just for calling him out.

Throught the entire series, CRWBY played a very careful juggling game with Ironwood’s character. They made sure to keep giving Ironwood enough good and bad moments where him going down either path was possible. But they also made sure to keep every questionable moment more and more difficult to justify until byt he end of Volume 7, there were none left. Then in V8 it’s low after low, culminating him everyone who stood by him either dying or turning against him in one form or another. Even Winter, who supported him depsite her own feeligns because of how much the military helped her after escaping Jaques, decided enough was enough and turned on him. The only person that Ironwood trusted at that point left him, and he’s too blinded by his own delusions to understand why. Even at the very end he refuses to acknowledge his wrongs, claiming that everyone else is ungrateful for the length he’s gone. There was no hope left for him at that point. Just to cement it further when Winter gets the Maiden powers, he tries to take credit for it as the original destiny he chose for her. You know... the one where he would have made her kill an elderly woman and didn’t eally give her a true choice in AND still putting down Penny who was more human that he could have ever dreamed if being.

Winter soundly defeats him and leaves him there. And it is only here, where he is on the ground unable to do anything except raise his gun. Here where Cinder emerges with the Relics and hands them to Salem right before Ironwood’s eyes. Here where both women ignore him until the very end, where Cinder declares Checkmate, that Ironwood finally realizes that no, he’s not the hero. He’s the fool who played right into Salem’s hands, just as the heroes tried to tell him. But now? There’s nothing to be done. Atlas is falling. The portals are gone. There is not a soul left int he kingdom who can or would even want to help him. The only thing that Ironwood succeeded in was creating his own grave. He repeatedly failed ot learn from his mistakes. He failed to listen tot hose who genuinely wanted to help him. He failed in being any sort of hero. And while one could blame Salem and Cinder for ultimately pushing him down the dark path for good, his decisions are his own. He has no one to blame for Atlas’ downfall, nor his own, except or himself. All that he can do is lower his gun and lay there in utter despair as everything comes crashing down. Literally. And all that he’ll be remembered as is a tyrant who sacrificed everyone around him with cold aloofness. As a reminder of what a hero should never be.

It was such a brilliantly done arc. Ironwood is detestable, but he is also one of the best written characters in RWBY. They played the long game, moving him step by step in the direction that they wanted, but leaving just enough space to leave us questioning what will happen. And yet, the path is still clear. We saw so many chances where Ironwood could have made a change for the better, but he decided not to. And it was perfectly in-character for him not to. The dark aspects of his personality were there since Day One, we just didn’t see how bad it could truly be until these past two volumes. Love him or hate him, the writing for Ironwood was extremely well done and applause to CRWBY for all of it. It was executed absolutely perfectly.

#rwby #rwby8 #rwby spoilers

167 notes · View notes

peacesmovingcabaret · 3 years ago

Text

Here’s Part Two (Part One from before)....

Several weeks had passed since Oz’s confrontation. Makoto was still pretty upset about the ordeal, but thankfully Laurent was there to comfort him.

“This is why I didn’t want to tell anyone about us!” Makoto groaned, curled up in Laurent’s arms as the two laid sprawled out on the couch.

“The others have been supportive so far!” Laurent reassured, threading his fingers through his lovers dark hair. “So you’re not alone in this!”

Makoto wasn’t too convinced, but he decided not to dwell. Knowing it would just upset him more.

Not long afterwards, Oz appeared on their doorstep asking if they could speak. Makoto had nothing more to say to him, but Laurent was willing to hear him out.

The three sat at the kitchen table in awkward silence. Oz had looked uncharacteristically nervous. Eventually he started by asking how long they had been together and when this all started.

“A few months!” Both men answered simultaneously.

Oz let out a heavy sigh before running a hand down his face.

“Look I have nothing against two men being together. Just why did it have to be with Makoto, Laurent? When did this even start for you?”

Laurent began explaining how he first developed an attraction for Makoto when he recruited him for their Sakura Magic con back in Asakusa. Even though his heart still belonged to Dorothy, his feelings for him had grown more and more each time they spent working together. After their final con, he had travelled to Okinawa to try to make amends with him, feeling guilty about what he had put him through. Over time, their relationship blossomed and it wasn’t long until Laurent confessed his feelings. Next thing they knew they made it official. But he assured Oz that he had never approached, spoken to or even seen Makoto prior to his recruitment.

Oz was even more dumbfounded than before than before. He looked over towards Makoto, who hadn’t so much as spoken to him. Wouldn’t even make eye contact. He was still angry with him, after everything. All he wanted to do was make things right with him. But it felt like there was nothing he could do.

“Oz…” Laurent chimes in quietly, grasping Makoto’s hand in his. “Believe me, I’ll be the first to say that Makoto deserves better. I know he does, because I’ve been nothing but a self-serving asshole. Which is why I’m doing everything in my power to become better. To be a man worthy for him. Because I love your son. And I would move the stars for him. I could never bring myself to hurt him any more than I already have. And I’m sorry if you feel like I betrayed you, but I’m not sorry for loving him.”

Oz blinked in astonishment at Laurent’s declaration. Even Makoto seemed to be in awe. For the first time, he watched as someone else treated his son with such adoration that he had neglected for so many years. And he was happy. Something he didn’t think he would ever see. And that adoring expression face was identical to the one Laurent gave to Dorothy. He had finally moved on and found someone. There was no way Oz would be able to take that from either of them.

Releasing another heavy sigh, Oz addressed the couple.

“Look, I can’t say that I approve of this. However; all I really want is for you to be happy. Something that I don’t think I can even give you, not after everything. And if loving Laurent gives you that bit of happiness I could never provide, then I’ll respect and support it! I’ve already fucked you over as a parent and as a man. And as much as I would hate to be cut out of your life, this is the very least I could do to start trying to make amends.”

Finally, a stunned Makoto stared at Oz. Mouth wide open as he fought back tears.

“Thanks.” Was all he could say.

Oz nodded, before turning his attention to Laurent.

“Don’t think you’re in the clear, Laurent Thierry.” He scolded the blond. “I still have my katana at home and I will not hesitate to decapitate you if you hurt my son in any way.”

Laurent chuckled nervously, wrapping an arm around Makoto’s waist.

“Oh I wouldn’t dream of it!”

#great pretender #laurent thierry #makoto edamura #seiji ozaki #edaurent #part 2 #Oz is trying to be better #even if it means accepting his son’s relationship with his teammate #lol

24 notes · View notes

prose-for-hire · 4 years ago

Text

Sleepless in Sunnydale

Pairing: Oz x reader

Request: hi! can I please request some oz x fem!reader fluff? he’s so adorable 🥺

Requested by: Anonymous

You had missed him so much. Your Oz. The night, that was usually yours and his had been spent lonesome. You hated sleeping in bed alone. Or, lying there and staring at the ceiling desperately trying to catch a moment of rest.

Your mind already worried about him. Already barely relaxed when you both knew it was a full moon. He struggled, always concerned he would hurt someone. You always reassured him, stayed with him as often as possible.

He didn’t like you watching him change, it worried him more having you in close proximity. You always came to check on him though, you just had to. Especially if you couldn’t sleep. You often sat beside him as he paced the cage.

But recently Willow and Xander offered to sit with him, explaining that everyone would take it in shifts. so he wouldn’t be lonely. You barely slept at this time of the month and they wanted to ease your mind at least somewhat.

And yet, still, even with this assurance, his lack of presence made you toss and turn. The bed appeared to expand, leaving you in the centre of a vast wasteland. A desolate space that your single form just couldn’t fill.

Not even the duvet would warm you up. The bedclothes kicked away and cast from your body. If it wasn’t him, it didn’t feel right. Nothing could compare.

You felt sorely lacking when he wasn’t by your side. Your boyfriend, he meant the world to you. He didn’t have to say anything and you were instantly soothed. You adored him. Would be by his side through anything just as you know he felt the same for you.

You were in deep and happily so. He was the most loving, doting boyfriend.

You hated being away from him for even a moment. It was only through the night and only for three days of the months, as it always was. But there was something about this, the concern that one day something may happen and you would be left this way. Longing for him.

Lonely and cold in this bed. Without him.

The light began to filter into the room. It was soft light, reading as hopeful. That this morning signified the end of the three nights where he would be away from you.

A whole month stretched before you, where you wouldn’t have to worry. It would just be you and him. He told you he found it sweet how clingy you were. He said it affectionately and it had made a heat rise in your cheeks which he pointed out was even cuter.

You were going to get changed and quickly go and meet him at the cage he used to keep himself and the population safe. You rolled over in bed, a smile starting to form on your face that you would be seeing him soon.

Your eyes cast to the doorway. And there he was. As if you had teleported him there yourself. His heart a magnet that attracted to yours in an instant. You could never be apart for long. He would explain that Xander grabbed his clothes and unlocked him as soon as he changed back. He smiled and watched your face brighten.

The room appeared to warm. More so now that his presence was in it. The atmosphere making the room glow. With love, with the rising sun. You began to get up out of bed but he shook his bed lightly, taking off his shoes and sliding in beside you fully clothed.

He couldn’t resist joining you in bed this way. Didn’t want either of you to leave now he saw a precious moment for the both of you. Just you. Together.

He lay back, flat on his back knowing you would want to settle into his side the way you always would. Looping your arm around his torso, slipping your hand underneath the fabric of his band t-shirt and settling against his skin. Rubbing your thumb softly against the skin.

He always made this noise, this expel of breath and a kind of noise that appreciated the action. It always made you smile. He leant in and pressed a kiss against the top of your head as you nestled further into him.

You couldn’t help just being ridiculously happy in his presence. You instantly forgot all of the desperate longing and worry you had through the previous night. Like this, together, it was bliss.

In his arms, with him wrapped in yours, you could be purely in the moment. Just the both of you in this wonderful moment. Tender and loving.

“Did you miss me?” You whispered, you would always get this way because you felt so safe with him. That he would never make you feel embarrassed for asking this way.

“Hm?” He said, between the kisses he had been landing against the top of your head. Both of you were just basking in the feeling. Of being together. It was a need. You adored him and he hated to be away from you even though he insisted it.

“Just… asked if you missed me” You said it a little more embarrassed this time, hiding your face in the crook of his neck briefly before he coaxed you back to face him with his words.

“Yeah, I really did… always do y’know. I look at you sometimes and it’s like, wow, I’ve truly found someone. True love” he said the word at the end, his hands moving lazily to emphasise those words.

“You mean that? Because I feel that too” You said excitably which made him smile briefly before his face went neutral again, that way he does when he’s thinking. But rather than say anything as serious as you had been expecting, he turned to look at you as he spoke.

“And, well, I enjoy Y/n kissage” He smiled into the kiss you landed on his lips at his words.

You would spend the rest of the day in bed together. You would nap together through the rest of the morning, adoring each other. And pressing sleepy kisses every so often as you slept leaning into the other. You both needed to catch up on the sleep. It had been a sleepless night for the pair of you.

Only now, could you both relax. In the other’s company. You could feel safe and protected, wrapped around each other. You grasped yourself closer to him. You could never be close enough.

His grasp loosened and tightened as he fell in and out of a soft sleep. You would nestle together, the blankets bundled around you. The meaning of this moment was all the sweeter since you had been apart in this way. The affection you shared surrounded you. The beautiful glow of your love paired with the lazy afternoon heat made you feel on top of the world.

With him by your side, with his love, you could finally settle. Relax.

#Oz #daniel osbourne #Oz x reader #Oz x you #Oz imagine #btvs #btvs imagine #btvs x you #btvs x reader #Buffy The Vampire Slayer #buffy the vampire slayer imagines #buffyverse #gn #gender neutral

105 notes · View notes

kitkatopinions · 3 years ago

Note

🌹💚💤💦💣 :3c

Ship that you have as an OTP: 🌹

Ironwood x Qrow is probably my top ship in RWBY, but I wound up loving Mercury x Whitley too, which sucks, because it's so niche. XD And also, lately, I've been torn between Freezerburn and Weiss x Pyrrha as my top Weiss ship. I can't decide which one I like more.

Ship that you secretly like: 💚

Okay, so I haven't talked about this, and I really hope the RWBY fandom doesn't kill me for it, but I've started to like the idea of AU-Only Blake and Adam. I absolutely hated this ship in any context for a very long time and it made me feel uncomfortable to see it even in AUs and re-writes. But while I was trying to think about what I'd do with a re-write, I started to enjoy my version of Adam (who I would drastically change and probably redeem at least a little bit,) and enjoy the possibility of him and Blake's dynamic including their romantic past. It's still one of my least favorite canon ships though.

Also one of the early ships in RWBY that I enjoyed that I've never really stopped liking the concept of is Yang x Neptune. It's not in the list of my favorite ships for either character, but I actually really enjoyed their working together scenes in volume 2, and I thought they could've been good together.

Ship that is canon but you don’t ship: 💤

Renora is the only ship that has reciprocated feelings on both sides that is canon that I don't like, I think. I used to love it, but I hate how it was done in V7 and V8 so much that it's colored how I view even their interactions in the earlier seasons. Also, I don't think Harriet and Clover is quite canon, but I absolutely think this ship on its own is badly done in the show, and not enjoyable at all for me even outside of it. I don't mind Harriet x Clover if Marrow is thrown in there as a poly ship, but on its own, I really don't like this ship.

Ship that is taboo: 💦

Outside of the already mentioned Alternate Universe Only Blake x Adam, I don't actually have very many ships that I like that I would consider taboo. Before anyone knew Neo's official age, I thought she and Ruby might be cute together if she turned out to be around the same age as Weiss, Yang, and Blake, but I never really got into it. Most of the ships I like that are policed are only policed in this fandom. Like Oscar x Whitley would be considered 'taboo' by some members of the fandom who think Oz being in Oscar's head means Oscar can never have crushes on people. And Mercury x Whitley would be considered 'taboo' since Mercury is probably nineteen in canon and Whitley is 'anywhere from fourteen to sixteen' in the show, despite the fact that my sister and I started shipping the two of them after A. having been writing for the characters to have started the show at sixteen the entire time because MKEK hate timelines, B. having already headcanoned Mercury as actually fifteen at the start of the show, Cinder having had him lie about his age to get into Beacon. And C. Us having written volumes 4-6 to only take up a logical time period of *less than a year,* landing Merc at just sixteen to Whitley's assigned fifteen by the time we had them meet. Also, I've started liking the idea of Elderburn, Marrow x Jaune, and Marrow x Weiss even though not really in canon and only in fanworks, and I still have no idea how old Neo is supposed to be and I only know she's an adult, but I honestly don't hate the idea of her with Emerald. Shipping 'ambiguously young adults' with nineteen year olds is only taboo in this fandom, I swear.

Ship that pisses you off: 💣

I've already talked at length in other posts about my severe dislike of Blake x Yang as a ship and my newfound dislike of Renora, so... Here are the other ships that piss me off. Cardin x Velvet. I get that people change him for re-writers, but this ship still makes me feel even worse than Blake x Adam ever did, because of how horrible he was specifically regarding her Faunus traits. Anything that's Jaune with more than one woman at a time or Jaune with any of the villain women. The Jaune Harem writers ruined even the concept for me. Qrow x Summer doesn't always piss me off, but if I see it in a 'and that's why Qrow is Ruby's dad' context, that instantly takes me from 'not my cup of tea but cute enough' and into 'I should block this tag' territory. Robyn and Qrow is a ship that I absolutely hate. I can only stand Salem x Oz when it's 'in the past she used to be better,' but most of the time, this ship makes me want to kick something into the sun. Honestly, most Cinder ships, but especially Emerald x Cinder and Neo x Cinder. Hazel x Oz is the worst. Scarlet x Sun or Scarlet x Neptune (both boys deserve better than Scarlet.) Umm... Oh, definitely Coco x Velvet. I'm sure the ship can be done well in fanworks, but boy howdy I hate it so much especially in canon. I have my problems with Velvet in the books, but she deserves so much better than Coco. I would pair her with Nora, Ruby, Blake, Sun, May, Octavia her temporary partner in Before the Dawn (I never read After the Fall, so if Octavia is worse in that book, I don't know about it,) or pretty much anyone else before I would ship her with Coco. Oh, another one that I really don't like is Robyn x Any of the Happy Huntresses, but I especially hate Robyn x All of the Happy Huntresses. They all deserve better.

Thanks for the asks! <3

#lots of shipping opinions here so I'm not going to tag them all #but still #anti bumbleby #anti renora #anti coco x velvet #rwde #anti rwby

11 notes · View notes

formeandmyfics · 3 years ago

Text

Jugenea Fic

I’LL NEVER STOP WANTING YOU

When an almost divorced, and recently dumped, Judy goes out looking for a good time at an unfamiliar nightclub, Gene refuses to let her leave with a stranger.

1943

The streets of Metro’s east lot were quiet and empty as Gene walked down the black pavement waving through a lawn between rehearsal halls. The pavement was dewy as it just finished raining and the July air was muggy, sounds of crickets filled his ears.

He had his hands in his pockets and his steps were slow. It was after nine o’clock but he wasn’t in a hurry to get to his car. In fact, he wasn’t in a hurry to get home either. Like everyone else on a Friday evening, normally he would have already been out of there, but that was when he had something exciting to get to.

Judy crossed his mind. This time last year, while filming ‘My Gal’, the two couldn’t wait to meet up at Ciro’s on a Friday evening. They would dance and laugh and have fun with friends then end the night rolling around the back seat of his car like love struck teenagers. Frequently he would get off to her BJ or she to his fingers, but rarely they’d actually make love in the vehicle. That was mostly done in their trailers at the studio where they had privacy.

Lately, the only thing he looked forward to after work was Kerry. But right now she was out east with his parents for a few weeks, letting his family spend time with her during the summer.

He had just gotten back from filming in Europe and he and Betsy seemed to be off track again. He wanted to get back on it, but his determination that he had to fix his marriage, back when they had the baby last October, just wasn’t there as much as it used to be. He didn’t even feel like going to Ciro’s. If Judy was there, he was afraid he’d slip right back into what he tried so hard to avoid to work on his marriage. But, if she ended up not being there, he knew he’d also be disappointed. She was still his friend and gave him so much joy. He missed her sense of humor.

After the new year, they ended their affair. He wanted it more than her, he could tell, but she wanted one last shot at saving her new, but defeating marriage to Dave. Shortly after, he heard about her nervous collapse on the set of ‘Girl, Crazy’ followed by three weeks of rest. Roger informed him, over coffee in the commissary one day, that it was that God-damn Busby that was the result. Gene suspected their split was a part of it as well, though he never asked her. Never had a chance.

In March they reunited to record a radio adaptation of their picture, and Judy sent him flirtatious signals that only he would recognize, but he made a point to ignore them. She remained cordial.

Four months.

He hadn’t seen her, or spoken to her, for four months. He read about her in the paper, spoke of her with mutual friends, heard her on the radio, but hadn’t seen her lovely face since then. Gene knew one thing; he was coming off a withdrawal from Judy Garland and it wasn’t fun. It was a total downer.

Gene jingled his car keys in his pocket as he could see the east parking lot up ahead, but he felt something in that moment that people rarely felt there: peace. It was the most deserted and silent he had ever heard Metro. Except for a janitor or construction worker rolling by on a golf cart, he was alone. It felt nice. He sat down on a bench outside Goldwyn Hall, a two-story brick building, named after one of the studio’s founding fathers. Upstairs were vocal rehearsal rooms and downstairs were songwriter and lyricist's offices. Gene had spent a lot of time in that building when he first came to Metro last year.

After Gene sat down, he bent his head forward, as he rested his elbows on his knees, and spun his keys around his finger. But, an echo of music started playing behind him. It was piano. He quickly grasped his keys to silence them when he heard Judy’s voice. His first initial reaction was that someone had the radio on or was playing back a recording, but her voice went from faint then got stronger.

Gene lifted his head when he heard her stop, then start over again. That was her. He turned around on the bench and looked up at the second story window that was open and the light was on. He felt his heart flutter when he realized she was up there. Gene double checked his watch. She wasn’t working this late was she? Maybe with Roger? His office was downstairs. Curious, but also failing to stop the urge to see her again, he got up and walked inside.

Judy was sitting alone at the piano in one of the small rehearsal rooms, her beautiful and distinctive voice bouncing off of every corner, as she sang, and played, ‘But Not For Me’.

Gene was leaning his shoulder on the wall, behind the see-through, glass door as he watched her. Even though the door was shut, he could still clearly hear her. She was lost in the song, playing by heart, singing with certain expressions; it was as if she were still in front of the cameras.

When Judy mindlessly glanced up, she did a double take, seeing him. Through the sound of music, she could suddenly hear her own heartbeat thudding. She was surprised to see him, but at the same time, wasn’t. He tended to show up at places like this, at the strangest of times. She noted how handsome, and relaxed he looked leaning there behind the glass watching her.

She genuinely smiled through a lyric acknowledging him. Her voice didn’t falter nor did the keys.

He had been spotted, Gene thought, and he pulled the door open. She continued the song, her eyes following him as he slowly walked over to the piano. He seemed so shy that his steps were careless, his heels scuffling against the floor.

Leaning his elbows on the piano his eyes didn’t quite catch hers as he listened. Instead, he glanced at the music on top of the piano. He knew she couldn’t read a note of music, that’s why she wasn’t using it. She had this uncanny way of knowing how to sing a song, and play it on piano, once hearing the melody only once, twice at most. Something only he, and a very few others knew, was that she played the piano. She refused to have that small pleasure taken away to be a money making venture.

When her fingers played the last few notes of her current song, she kept her eyes glued on Gene who looked a little melancholy, tapping his pointed finger against the sheet music, obviously lost in his thoughts. It made her feel a little uneasy, and sad, so she purposely started playing the beginning to ‘For Me and My Gal’. Gene instantly smiled before looking over at her. She smiled back.

“Ding, Dong, Ding, Dong...” she sang the opening verse.

“Do you hear the bells go ding dong,” he chimed while singing with her.

They both chuckled and she stopped playing as she sat on the bench next to her.

“How are you, darling,” she asked.

“Oh, just swell. You?”

“Oh, life’s just a bowl of cherries.”

She sounded cheery, but he knew her comment was more sarcastic. He had read about her separation from her husband and that she had just recently moved into a house up in Bel Air. He also heard about her short-lived affair with Joe Mackiewicz out in Palm Springs where she had filmed the rest of her Mickey picture. Rumor was that married Mackiewicz just wanted fun but Judy wanted more. Gene didn’t usually pay much attention to gossip, but this time he had a feeling it was true. It could almost be the same thing that happened to them, though Gene didn’t just see her as a piece of ass, like he was sure a man like Joe did, Gene had fallen for her; mind, body and soul.

“What are you doing up here all alone, toots?”

“I have a radio show tomorrow night to promote ‘Girl, Crazy’. I was just going over a few songs. What about you? You’re never at the studio this late.”

“I was doing some post-ADR for my picture. Then got caught up in a choreography session for a film I might do for Columbia in a few months.”

“Columbia,” Judy said shocked, “I’m surprised Mr. Mayer is letting them borrow you.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because studios usually don’t like to hand out their big stars.”

“I’m no Gable, sweetheart.”

“Yet,” she emphasized confidently, with her finger up, “Each film you’ve done so far has been big box office draws and you’ve gotten raves in the papers.”

“Yeah, all three of them,” he rolled his eyes, “Our film was a hit because of you, baby, and ‘Pilot #5’ egh, first dramatic role, wasn’t too great in it. And you know ‘DuBarry’ was all Red and Lucy Ball.”

“That isn’t true.”

“It is. When ‘Thousands Cheer’ comes out I’m sure it will be a hit because, as you know, it’s a star-studded film. I’m sure this war film I just finished will be better than the first dramatic film I did, we’ll see.”

Judy stared at him not believing her ears and he sat there so casually.

“Gene,” she said quite sternly.

“Huh?”

“You know, you’re making me a little angry,” she giggled but was serious.

“Why,” he chuckled back.

“You really need to give yourself more credit.”

“I don’t care about any of that stuff, Judy. I just want to choreograph and dance and work with other great actors. Reviews and box office draws don’t mean a thing to me.”

“Let me ask you something. If our film sank, after how hard we worked on it, wouldn’t you have been disappointed?”

“No, because it brought me to you,” he said smiling cheekily.

She laughed, “I’m serious. Put me out of the equation.”

“Impossible,” he interrupted.

“Really, though. Darling, when you’re passionate about a film, when you really believe in it, and you worked your butt off, and you want it to be something great, and then it tanks, it can be really disheartening.”

“You sound like you’ve been through this before.”

She nodded, “‘Wizard of Oz’. You don’t know how long I worked on that film. It was fun but really hard. By the end, I just knew we had something great. Then when I went to see it, and it didn’t have the reaction we all hoped, it kinda broke my heart. I always thought that it was me, that it would have done better if they had stuck with Shirley.”

“Shirley who?”

“Temple.”

“Get out of here.”

“Mm hm. They were juggling us back and forth but Fox wouldn’t let Shirley go back then.”

“She’s a sweetie pie, but she’s a baby actor and dancer, not a singer. ‘Over the Rainbow’,” he gave her a silly look showing her that it was destined to be a Judy Garland song only, “Please.”

Judy giggled, “See. And that’s what always wins...music. Even if a film doesn’t do well, or the story is not that great, a good musical number or song will always be remembered. Rainbow is mine. What will be yours?”

Gene looked at her taken back a bit, though he wasn’t all surprised. She always came off beyond wise for her years.

“I will always take pride in my dancing. I did the same on Broadway.”

“Ok. And hold onto that, because your dancing, or a particular musical number of yours, will be the heart of even the worst of films,” she teased. “It only takes 2 minutes of you tap dancing like you did in ‘DuBarry’ that will be remembered out of a 90 minute film. Be proud of it and don’t hold yourself short. And if you find yourself disappointed, that means you’re passionate about it, and that’s ok, too.”

Gene looked at her slyly and pressed a few keys on the piano, his ego shooting through the roof.

“My biggest fan.”

Judy wrapped her arms around his bicep and leaned her cheek against his shoulder, “Are you mine?”

Gene stiffened a bit. Her question was bouncing from his statement, but her voice suggested something entirely different.

“You know I’ll always be your biggest fan, Judy. Always gonna stand by and root for ya, honey.”

“I’ve missed you,” she said sweetly, raising her head to rest her chin on his shoulder now, staring at the side of him as he looked away from her angelic face.

“I know. I’ve been busy with work. I’ve been out promoting the last film and then I was across the pond filming ‘Cross of Lorraine’. I just got back last week. I haven’t even been out to any clubs. I know you were filming out on location, too.”

Judy’s face dropped a bit, “That’s not what I meant.”

He sighed, “No, I didn’t think so.”

“Haven’t you missed me?”

“I’ve missed my best friend.”

“That’s all?”

“Yes. I can’t cross that line.”

“What line,” she asked annoyed.

“The line you’re on, baby,” he said looking back at her trying to make his point clear without hurting her feelings. But, it was already too late.

Judy slid her arms from his and sat up straight. She tried to distract herself as she played some keys, pretending to get back to rehearsing. Gene also read her point cloud and clear.

“I’m glad I got to see you again. I’ll tell ya one thing,” he said reaching under her chin to have her look up at him, “I’ve missed that face.”

Judy just blinked, no expression present, but he could read her eyes, she was upset. But she had to get over it, over him.

“Go home and get some rest.”

“It’s lonely there, you know.”

“Then distract yourself. Go out with some friends, go to Ciro’s. You love that and you don’t have to be here tomorrow.”

Judy brushed his hand off of her and went back to playing.

Gene was silent a moment before he leaned down and kissed her cheek, “Good night.

When the door shut behind him, Judy pound her hands on the keys and stood up, “Fine. I will go out. I’m going to go out and find a man who will actually want me,” she said to herself as she collected her purse.

Gene pulled up at a red light on Venice Boulevard, his head and his heart in an emotional battle, when he heard a honk. Looking over, his buddy Van Johnson was smiling, motioning for him to roll his window down. Gene smiled back, and leaned far over to roll the passenger side down.

"Hey buddy," Van said cheerfully.

"What are you doing out in this part of town this late? You're usually out hob-knobbing on Friday nights."

"Had a late dinner with Evie and a couple of her girlfriends. She wanted to stay, so I high-tailed it out of there."

Gene looked ahead making sure the light was still red, "Too much cock in the hen house?"

"Exactly. What are you doing out this way?"

"Just left the studio," Gene motioned behind him, where the studio stood a few minutes back.

"This late?" Gene nodded and Van continued, "Damn. Well, you got any plans?”

"Nope."

"You wanna go out and have a few?"

"Yeah, that sounds good. But let's do one of the joints on Melrose. I don't feel like swinging with Hollywood tonight."

The light turned green so they quickly ended their conversation.

"How about Blue Martini, Melrose and La Cienega?"

"I gotta go home and change first. I'll meet you there," Gene shouted as they started rolling as cars honked behind both of them.

He chuckled when he saw Van, in his rearview mirror, throw his hand out the window at the car behind him.

When Gene arrived home, the house was dark and quiet. Upstairs, Betsy was curled in bed with a book and the radio going next to her.

"Hi."

"Hi. You're home late."

"I know. I stayed and worked on some ideas for that 'Cover Girl' picture coming up. And I ran into Judy when I was leaving," he said casually as he started to unbutton his shirt.

"Oh yeah? How's she doing," Betsy asked a bit uninterested as she continued to read her suspense book.

"Fine. Didn't talk too long. She just got back from filming on location, too."

"I'm surprised you didn't catch up with her. You haven't seen her for a while, right," Betsy said now placing the book in her lap, "You two became good friends back on your picture. Maybe we can arrange to all have dinner sometime."

Gene froze for a moment before walking into the walk-in closet. He had mentioned Judy casually, to keep it unsuspecting, but now the conversation was going further than he meant.

Speaking up from the closet he changed the subject real fast, "Van pulled up next to me at a red light. Invited me out for a few drinks right now," he poked his head out, "I know you're all comfy, but do you want to come with me?"

"No, thanks," she said smiling sheepishly as she snuggled further into bed to hint to him that she was very comfy, "But you go ahead."

Gene leaned back and raised his eyebrows to himself as he picked out a fresh dress shirt. He wasn't surprised at her response. She rarely liked to go out lately, not since they moved to Los Angeles. He understood at first. Perhaps she was shy. He was always able to persuade her then though. Then pregnancy happened, then the baby was born. He understood that as well. But Kerry was nine months old now. His wife could at least try but she got way too comfortable being a homebody while Gene enjoyed the nightlife.

June Allyson held hands with Judy as she led her through the crowded nightclub called the Blue Martini on Melrose not too far from Paramount Studios. Judy knew most of her pals were at The Player’s Club or Ciro’s or another joint on the Sunset Strip. She wanted to go out and have a night of flirtatious fun with someone she didn’t know. Judy knew if she were to go to Ciro’s, as Gene suggested, which was one of her favorite places, then word would get back to Mr. Mayer of her indiscretions and she didn’t feel like spending Monday morning in his office getting another talking to.

Judy didn’t want to show up somewhere alone, and she didn’t know many other bars, so she didn’t want to end up in some dive. She had to think of someone whom she trusted that would know where to go. That brought her to her new friend, June. She was new to Metro and had a small part in ‘Girl, Crazy’. They had hit it off right away. June had the same sense of humor as Judy. And even though on the outside she was the ‘girl next door’, June had street smarts from working on Broadway and living alone in New York. Judy, of course, didn’t know June well enough to tell her of her goal for the night; to have a one-night stand, or at least a good time with a handsome stranger. But, June knew exactly where to go. She described the club as a little jazz gem away from the high-ballers. That’s exactly what Judy wanted.

The club was much smaller than the other places she was used to, but it was still charming, and sexy. The smoke-filled nightclub had an ambience of blue lighting and there was a gorgeous, lit up fountain in the middle of the club.

Judy looked around as June led her swiftly towards a free table over by the bar. She passed many people, ones she didn’t recognize, but they still had an elegant look to them which relaxed her a bit. She definitely was not in some drunkard’s dive.

As they passed a booth of men in suites talking over Brandy, Judy caught a man’s eye. He smiled and looked her up and down as she was rushed by. Judy had just enough time to glance back at him over her shoulder smiling back. She wasn’t sure if he recognized her or not, but she didn’t care at that point. She was already ahead of her goal and he was very handsome.

“Thank goodness we got a table, it’s almost standing room only,” June said sitting down.

“This is great. Where on earth did you find this place?”

“I came here with Lucy a few months ago when we were filming ‘Best Foot Forward’. Her husband was playing here with his band for a few weeks during ‘Rumba’ night. I thought it was a cute place.”

“It’s just what I needed. And look, no cameras going off in your face.”

“That must be hard, to try to have a good time and then you have cameramen running up to you.”

“I really don’t mind it all that much. I guess I’ve gotten used to it, but tonight I wanted to be away from all that. You, darling, will soon find out what it feels like.”

“I’ll be on my way up, that’s what they tell me. I don’t mind though, you know? I’m just happy to be here at the studio working. And,” June said, reaching over to grab Judy’s hand warmly, “To have made friends with you.”

“Me, too. You’re a doll.”

“Cocktails, ladies,” a waitress in a sleek, black uniform asked.

“A glass of red Cabernet for me, please.”

“Top shelf whiskey sour.”

“You got it.”

Chatter filled the nightclub as the band went on break. Judy looked back over her shoulder at the table. She saw the man look at her but he was immersed in his conversation in the booth. She decided to let some cocktails sink in, and music come back, before she got more courage to continue her quest.

“I heard from Arthur that he wants L.B. to put you on contract, that’s a sure thing of being on your way up.”

“He’s talking about having me star in some film with Van Johnson. Until then, I'm still doing my side parts, but I've met so many greats. I really don’t care if I climb up or not. I do hope maybe one day we can work together.”

“I would love that. I would love to sing with you. You sound like a bell.”

“Me,” June sarcastically said, pointing to herself reminding them of who just made that compliment. Both ladies giggled.

“I swear, between you and Gene, it’s like you have no confidence in your talent.”

“Gene?”

“Kelly. Have you met him yet?”

“Not yet. I’ve seen your picture though. It was swell and looked like fun.”

“It was a lot of fun. That was his first picture, you know.”

“I know. I heard that you helped him get it.”

“I wanted him for it and I’m glad the studio listened. His talent is beyond amazing, June, it really is. And we became very good friends.”

“Oh, I could tell that. I would see you two hanging out together outside your sound stages in between takes. I think you were both doing separate films. Ya, he was doing a film with Lucy.”

“Yah. You should have come hung out with us.”

“I didn’t want to intrude. Besides, I was still so new and shy. I’d see you and duck into a stairwell.”

“Oh, stop,” Judy laughed. “You know, Gene was just talking to me earlier about not caring if he gets ahead, all he wants to do is dance and work.”

“I suppose that’s what being green in this industry is all about.”

“Here you are, ladies.”

“Thank you.”

June held up her glass, “To being green.”

“But having confidence in your talent,” Judy said back and the girls clinked glasses before sipping.

June made a noise as she sipped and quickly took her glass away from her lips, “Speak of the devil.”

“What?”

“Gene Kelly just walked in.”

Judy giggled, wiping her pink-polished fingers on her cocktail napkin to rid the wetness of her glass’s condensation. Clearly, June was teasing.

“Van Johnson is with him, too.”

Judy’s eyes widened as she looked up at June, who stared over her shoulder with curious eyes taking another sip of her wine.

“No, they aren’t,” Judy mumbled to herself and turned to look herself.

Yes, they were.

Judy watched as the men figured out where to go in the crowded room. She turned back around and closed her eyes. After Gene’s rejection, he was the last person she wanted to see right now.

“Want to go say hi?”

“You know, I- I’m sure they came here for the same reason we did...to not be bothered. Let’s just leave them alone.”

“Too late, honey, Van’s pointed at us,” she lowered her voice in a deep undertone to be playful, “You’ve been spotted.”

Gene was steps behind Van as he bee lined for the small table for two where Judy sat with a woman that he kind of recognized. He was a bit shell-shocked to see Judy at this joint and it showed plain as day on his face.

“Hiya sweet cheeks,” Van said as he made no hesitation in cuddling Judy hard from the side, to where her chair even scooted with the force of the embrace, and he planted a big kiss on her cheek.

She giggled, and glanced up at Gene, a smile on her face, but she didn’t look too thrilled. Gene could see that.

“You know my buddy here,” Van said sarcastically introducing Gene to Judy.

“Clark Gable,” Gene replied, “I think we’ve met once or twice before,” he replied just as sarcastically.

“I don’t recall,” she said a bit cattily, smiling and batting her lashes.

Gene’s smile dropped but June spoke up, “And I do recall that I haven't met you yet, Mr. Kelly.”

Gene turned his attention to June, “And who might you be, my dear?”

“June Allyson,” Van replied, “Up and rising star at our alma mater. And hopefully my next leading lady.”

“Hopefully.”

“Yes, I’ve seen you around the lot. How do you do, Miss Allyson?”

“June.”

“Then it’s Gene to you.”

“I was just telling Judy how wonderful I thought your film was.”

“Which film is that?”

He shot Judy a look at his intentional remark and it was Judy’s turn to look at Gene sans smile.

Judy perched her lips irritated before nearly speaking through her teeth, a forced smile plastered, “The one we did together, darling.”

“Oh, yes. I’m glad you enjoyed it. Van, buddy, how about we head to the bar? There’s two seats at the end.”

“Ladies, would you like some company? Two women alone in the bar calls for two gentleman callers.”

“Unfortunately, this is a table for two, sweetie,” Judy replied sweetly.

“There’s always our laps,” Van winked.

Judy nervously scratched her neck and chuckled, turning red. She knew which lap she’d end up on and was afraid Gene would push her off.

“And where is Evie,” June asked, mischievously bringing up his girlfriend’s name.

“Hey, I can look but not touch right?”

“Down boy,” Gene said, grabbing Van’s bicep, “I think we might’ve intruded on girl’s night.”

“Then I shall bow out gracefully.”

“Thank you,” Judy said, smiling genuinely and accepted a peck on the lips from her friend.

After Van kissed Judy goodbye, he gave June’s hand a kiss and followed Gene to the bar.

As time went by, even though Judy could feel Gene’s eyes on her, she refused to turn to look at him. Luckily, a few of Van’s friends showed up and the five of the men got lost in conversation, taking Gene’s attention away from her. At one point, Judy could even hear Gene’s laughter from across the way as the men got rowdy.

June and Judy got lost in gossip and anecdotes and enjoyed each other's company along with the live music.

After the waitress put down another fresh drink for Judy, June smiled sheepishly as she just took the last sip of her 2nd glass of wine.

“How are you feeling?”

“Mm, good. How about you?”

“Fine, but I’m not the one drinking my cocktails like water.”

Judy blushed, “They’re good.”

June giggled. She knew well enough that Judy Garland wasn’t an alcoholic. She just needed a well-deserved night off, but June decided that they’d probably be best taking a cab home instead of Judy’s personal chauffeur who had dropped them off. June was still new to this side of business, and didn’t know if she could trust him. Last thing Judy needed was word to get out from her driver that MGM’s ‘it’ girl got inebriated.

Judy looked over at the booth, where the man she first made eyes with was, but he was no longer there. She didn’t notice Gene looking at her as she leaned far back in her chair to look past his group. Curious, he looked behind him to see what or who she was looking at.

Seeing that booth now vacant, Judy decided she’d have to find someone else to flirt with, but first was going to freshen up.

“I’m going to use the washroom,” she said standing up, “I’ll be right back.”

Before June could even respond, Judy lost her balance a bit and June quickly grabbed Judy’s arm and the table that wobbled. Judy found it hilarious as she steadied herself, her infectious laugh louder than anyone else’s in the room.

Her laugh even got Gene’s attention as he watched her walk away from the table. Catching eyes with June, she made a funny drinking motion to tell him Judy was ok but drank too much. He sighed heavily through his nose giving her a nod in acknowledgement.

Judy returned a few minutes later and tried to sit down elegantly, but ended up wobbling the table again.

“Oops.”

“Have you eaten anything?”

“No.”

“I’ll order an appetizer. You gotta eat when you drink.”

“Yes, mother,” she giggled, “I didn’t realize how fast it hit me until I went to the bathroom.”

“That’s usually how it happens.”

“See any cute men walk by while I was gone?”

“I haven’t really paid attention. Why? Are you looking?”

“Maybe,” Judy said back innocently.

Just then they heard a male’s voice next to them, “Sorry to intrude…”

Judy and June both looked up to find the same man that had made eyes at Judy earlier. Judy was pleasantly surprised. He looked to be in his 30's, was tall, great posture, with dark blonde hair and a pearly white smile.

“I don’t normally do this, but Miss Garland, would you mind terribly if I asked for an autograph?”

That answered Judy’s question whether he had recognized her or not.

“I’d love to.”

He handed her a pen and grabbed a clean cocktail napkin on their table sliding it in front of her.

She smiled amused, “Is it for anyone in particular?”

“Myself. Just your name is fine.”

After signing, Judy handed it back to him.

“Lovely,” he said looking at her beautiful signature and folded it up putting it in his pocket, “My name is Tom, but I just used this as an excuse to come over and talk to you especially since we noticed one another when you walked in.”

Judy smiled flirtatiously, very amused now at his frankness. June saw the look on Judy’s face, she tried to suppress her giggle.

“I don’t mind. But I am curious as to why it took you so long to come over.”

The man’s smile widened, his eyes sparkling back, and June cleared her throat.

“I’m going to see what the boys are up to,” she said, grabbing her wine glass.

“Miss,” he said as June smiled at Judy and slipped on by them.

Tom immediately sat down in her seat without asking, “I, ah, I hope your friend doesn’t mind.”

“She doesn’t,” Judy said leaning her chin on her hands, “She can tell I’m interested.”

Judy was never this brave off the bat but the alcohol was helping tremendously and she wanted to have fun. Not only that, she was more confident knowing the man was interested back and her body craved attention.

“Are you now,” he said, his ego boosted.

“Mm hm. You’re very handsome, you know.”

“Well, I always thought you were cute on screen, but you’re even more beautiful in person.”

“Thank you.”

“I mean it. You’re a dish,” his eyes seductively eyed her up and down, “How about another drink?”

“I really shouldn’t,” she said in her most adorable voice. It was definitely an act, but it never failed to get her what she wanted, “I’m already quite tipsy.”

“I see no problem with that, honey,” he said back suggestively. To others, the comment would be seen as a red flag, but it flew right over Judy’s intoxicated head.

“I’ll finish this drink and start drinking water. So, Tom, what do you do?”

“I’m a lawyer downtown. But work-talk is boring.”

“Oh, good. I despise small talk.”

“Then ask me something interesting.”

“Mm, are you single?”

He leaned forward on his elbows like she was, “I am...currently. You?”

“Uh...currently.”

“Maybe we can change that.”

“Yeah,” she asked intrigued, thinking they could possibly go to another nightclub alone, “Well, what are you doing after this?”

“Hopefully I’m looking at it.”

Judy looked at him a little taken back but she was definitely not displeased nor insulted.

“How about a dance, sugar?”

“I’d love it,” she replied and took his hand.

She was lightheaded but feeling very good and let him guide her to the dance floor where other couples were currently slow dancing.

Gene’s eyes stayed glued on Judy and the man as they embraced closely on the dancefloor as everyone around him were rowdy and took no notice. They were too close for Gene’s comfort, especially since he didn't recognize the man. By now, he had become accustomed to all her mutual friends.

“June,” Gene asked as her back was turned to him while she spoke with Van.

“Hm?”

“Who is that dancing with Judy?”

“I don’t know. He came up asking for an autograph just so he could talk to her. That’s why I came over here. They were pretty flirty.”

Gene watched them intently. He could definitely see Judy was not uncomfortable in his arms, but she was drunk. The man knew that, too, and he was sure that he was using it to his advantage.

When the third dance started, their faces were inches apart as they spoke. Gene was becoming more alert and more worked up. He didn’t care if Judy was coming onto the man, it wasn’t right. She was under the influence, feeling vulnerable, not to mention she was a famous celebrity. She couldn’t just go around with random men. It would get her into trouble, in more ways than one. He wasn’t thinking as a jealous ex-lover, he was thinking as her best friend.

When Judy slipped her arms around the guy's neck suggestively as their hips slowly swayed, his hand slid down her ass, cupping the bottom of it. When she didn’t move his hand away, Gene placed his glass on the bar with a loud thump. It was so loud that it got June’s attention. She looked to where Gene was staring.

Gene didn’t even notice June until he saw her walk up to Judy.

“Judy,” June asked, tapping Judy’s back.

The couple turned to her but remained in their stance.

“Hm?”

“Can I talk to you for a moment,” June politely looked at the man, “Sorry.”

Tom didn’t falter and looked down at Judy completely turned on.

“Is it an emergency,” Judy asked concerned.

“No.”

“Well, then, as you can see I’m a little busy right now, darling,” she said, placing her hand on the man’s chest as they started twirling again, “I’ll talk to you later…” she then gave a slurred giggle, “...or more like tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” the man agreed.

As an irritated June walked back towards the bar she mumbled, “Should’ve lied and said it was an emergency.”

Gene was paying his bill when June came back up to him.

“Gene, uh, I know we don’t know each other, but we’re both Judy’s friends, and I have to tell you, I don’t like what’s going on over there.”

“No,” he simply said, agreeing, as he threw down a hefty tip on the edge of the bar for the bartender.

“I realize she’s a grown woman, and separated from her husband, but she’s had too much to drink, you know? She’s not thinking straight.”

“Yep,” he said, as it was nothing new to what had already gone through his mind, “What did she say when you went over?”

“Didn’t want to talk to me. They seem pretty intent on leaving together and I don’t think it’s a good idea especially in her state. What if she regrets it or something bad happens?”

“Nothing’s going to happen.”

“It won’t?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m not going to let it. She’s too good a friend of mine for me to let her leave with some guy she doesn’t know. Plus,” he emphasized, “she’s Judy Garland.”

“That was my thought, too,” June looked over to the dance floor and didn’t see them. She looked at their table which was still empty, “Gene, where did they go?”

Gene quickly looked around and didn’t see them either. When he whipped his body towards the door, it was just enough time for him to see them exit holding hands.

“Oh, nope,” he said sternly as he grabbed his fedora, “Nope.”

June watched as she saw Gene swiftly head towards the door.

Gene didn’t see them when he first walked out the doors but he heard her loud laugh echo from around the corner and his steps became longer and faster. When he turned the corner, he saw Judy wobble on her heels but the man laughed with her and secured an arm around her waist. Tom reached down, giving her a kiss on the cheek as they headed towards a black Cadillac.

That son-of-a-bitch, Gene thought as his steps became angry the closer he got to them. Before he knew it, he grabbed Judy's free hand.

“Thanks,” he said to the other man as he started pulling her away, but Judy quickly resisted.

“Gene, what are you doing?”

Her horrified voice made Tom quickly grab her again around the waist to hold her back to him and she didn’t resist him.

“You’re coming with me,” Gene stated calmly.

“I am what,” she laughed ridiculously.

“Who is this joker,” Tom asked her, not recognizing him.

“It’s alright, Tom. He’s a friend of mine,” Judy looked at Gene angrily, “And if he doesn’t back off, he won’t be any longer.”

Gene didn’t falter, “Judy, let’s go.”

“I am going. I’m going with my new friend here.”

“Going to do what?”

“I don’t think that is any of your business.”

“It’s definitely not his business,” Tom added.

“Would you really like to know, Gene,” she said with that intentional voice of hers, egging him on.

“Oh, yeah?” Gene asked and took a step towards her, challenging her and his voice came out disgusted, “I bet you don’t even know his last name.”

Even through glassy eyes, she suddenly showed guilt, and was quiet.

“Look, back off, Bud. She’s a big girl.”

Gene’s eyes didn’t leave Judy’s but she looked down almost ashamed and he spoke sternly but calmly, “Judy.”

“Don’t worry, Daddy, I’ll make sure she gets home safely,” Tom chuckled.

Judy had looked up at Gene with that last comment, and her expression showed horror. Even with the extremely fuzzy effects of the alcohol, she knew that to Gene those were fighting words.

Gene chuckled back, but then he took a step aside ready to fight, but Judy quickly placed her hands on his chest.

“Gene,” she pleaded.

“Come on, babe, let's go,” Tom said and turned to walk to his car.

“She’s not a *babe*, asshole, she’s a lady. Let’s go,” Gene suddenly bent down and swooped Judy over his shoulder. She gasped and held onto his back as he started walking them the other direction.

“Gene! PUT ME DOWN! GENE!”

He ignored her yells and her fists on his back, but when she suddenly kicked, her stiletto got a little too close.

“Judy, for Christ sakes, you almost kicked me in the head.”

He turned the corner back in front of the club where his car was parking in front and immediately saw June and Van run out.

“I should kick you in the balls for ruining my night,” Judy spat back.

“Van, open the back door of my car, will ya.”

Van seemed amused as he did what he was told. Gene set Judy down and tried to put her in the back seat but she again resisted.

“Get in there.”

“I’m not going in there. I came with June.”

“Judy, dammit, you’re testing my patience. Now, get in the goddamn back seat before I throw you in.”

Judy knew he was serious, but she still protested, “I swear, if you do this Gene, never come crawling back to me again. I mean it, we’re over for good. And we’re no longer friends either!”

“Crawling back to her,” Van asked, confused as hell.

Gene’s eyes widened at her before he turned around to face the confused pair, “I have no idea what gibberish she’s talking about. The booze has obviously made her mentally and verbally unstable.”

Judy shrieked insulted.

“Now GET IN THERE!”

“ALRIGHT,” she screeched back shocked from his angry yell at her and she went into the backseat.

Gene slammed the door before turning back to his friends exhausted.

“I’ll give Junie a ride home. Don’t worry about it,” Van said.

“Here. This is hers,” June smiled and handed him Judy’s small purse.

Gene looked at it and nodded before walking around to the drivers side. He tossed the purse in the backseat carelessly, almost hitting her, as he got in.

“Hey!”

Van and June both smiled as they heard Judy yell through the closed windows and then they watched them drive off.

The car was silent, not even the radio was on, as Gene’s eyes met hers though the rearview mirror as he rolled up to the first red light.

“You realize you almost ratted us out back there?”

Judy whimpered as she readjusted herself in the backseat, leaning her head back, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Van and June. You nearly told them about us.”

“We’re not together anymore. Who cares,” she said in a slurred speech.

“I care. You may not be with your husband anymore, but my wife would also care. Oh, she’d care a lot.”

“THEN GO HOME TO HER,” Judy suddenly yelled as she sat up with determination. It was obviously a sore spot.

“Would you lower your voice? Geez,” he said, wiggling his finger in his ear.

“Slow down,” she said leaning her head back again, “I’m dizzy. Better yet, just drop me off here. Then you can go back to your marriage.”

“Drop you off,” he chuckled, “on the corner of Melrose. I’m sorry, honey, but you don’t fit in with the prostitutes. And I’m not going back to my ‘marriage’ as you call it, until I know you’re ok.”

“You might want to rephrase that, Gene,” she said sadly.

He realized what he said and sighed, “What I meant to say was…”

“I know what you meant,” she replied, knowing he wouldn’t go back home until she was home herself.

When they arrived at her home in Bel Air, Judy was fast asleep. After he opened the passenger door, he stared at her angelic face for a moment. She sure was a spit fire, but right now she looked like such an innocent child. It was the same when he had stared at her asleep in his arms after they had just had a naughty and solicitous encounter or had one of their amusing arguments. So many emotions were running through him.

He got her keys out of her purse before lifting her in his arms. With a bit of a struggle, he did manage to get them both inside, but it wasn’t easy with her near flaccid body hanging off of him. Gene stood there a moment. He knew where she lived but he had never been inside before. It was charming.

Once he got up the stairs, he headed straight into the first bedroom he came upon but stopped short. That wasn’t her room, he thought. It was fully furnished, but it didn’t seem like her. Figuring it was a guest room, he kept going down the hall. He walked past a bathroom and an office before heading straight for the open double doors at the end of the hall.

Oh, yes, this definitely was her room. The bed was large and opulent, with one of her slips laying in the middle of the floor and a chiffon scarf over her vanity’s mirror. It even smelled like her perfume.

After laying Judy on her bed, he carefully slipped off her slip on stilettos.

“Where am I,” she mumbled very sleepily.

“You’re home, in your bed,” he said as he walked over to set her Chanel shoes on the dresser. One, he knew how much she took care of her designer pieces, and two he didn’t want her to trip over them if she were to drunkenly wander out of bed. Last thing he needed was her to fall and hit her head on the dresser.

When he turned back around he saw her half sitting up trying to reach for the back of her zipper, but her movements were lazy and she couldn’t reach. He walked on over and unzipped the dress for her and helped her out of it. After it was off, wearing a two-piece white silk camisole and nude thigh high stockings, she fell back on the bed happy to go back to sleep.

Gene proceeded to cover her with a throw that was on the end of her bed, but she kicked it off.

“You need to lay on your side, sweetheart. Can you do that for me?”

Judy moaned, the skin between her eyes wrinkling in dissatisfaction, as he pulled her shoulder so she was on her side.

“Why?”

“Because if you get sick, you can choke.”

“Mmm, that’s all anyone needs to see...” she mumbled, arranging herself on her side, “...Louis B. Mayer’s ‘Darling Judy’ puking her brains out.”

Gene chuckled as he went into the master bedroom to get a glass of water for her, and a few aspirin. Setting it next to her, he looked around making sure everything was in order before he left.

“There’s water right here, Judy, if you need it, and aspirin. Do you need anything else before I go?”

“Don’t go, please.”

“You’re safe and sound in your bed now. Just get some sleep.”

“Please,” she said with her eyes closed and reached her hand up in the air for him. He took it in both his hands.

It was a moment before she spoke half-asleep, “My husband stopped wanting me, I was just a summer fling to Joe and Gene doesn't want me anymore. I miss him, doesn't he realize that?”

"Honey, I'm right here. I'm Gene."

"Why doesn't he want me anymore," she whimpered sadly.

Gene’s face fell as well. When her hand went limp and she didn’t continue, he knew she passed out. He sat down on the edge of her bed in a bit of sorrow. She really was more hurt than he thought. He couldn’t leave her.

Gene turned off the light and left the door open as he walked to the guest room he had come across earlier. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he picked up the phone and dialed. As he waited, and hoped for the phone to be answered, he started untying his shoes.

“Hello?”

“Oh, Van, thank God you’re home already, man.”

“I just ran in to answer. Everything alright?”

“I’m at Judy’s. She’s pretty bad. I can’t leave her alone tonight in case something happens. Can you do me a favor?”

“Anything.”

“Can you call Betsy and tell her that I got drunk and passed out at your place so she doesn’t worry?”

“Uh...sure. But, why don’t you just tell her the truth?”

“Oh, you definitely ain’t a married man,” Gene laughed, “It doesn’t matter what the truth is, buddy, they’ll always jump to the conclusion that you’re fucking someone else.”

Gene bit his cheek and made a face at his own comment, as he did have an affair with Judy, but tonight wasn’t the case.

“Yeah, that does make sense,” Van chuckled, “No problem, buddy.”

“Thanks.”

When they hung up, Gene sighed and fell on his back. Running a hand over his face, he snickered.

What a night.

Rain hitting the window stirred Judy out of her sleep. She was laying face down on top of her bed, her neck length curls in disarray and her mascara smeared under her eyes. She looked up at the clock on her nightstand and moaned. It was nine-thirty. The skies were grey, making her room still cozy and dark, and all she wanted to do was go back to sleep but her body thought otherwise. Not to mention she was terribly hungry.

After ten minutes, Judy finally mustered the strength to pull herself out of bed. As she passed the window, she did a double take seeing a car that wasn’t hers in her driveway. Walking to the window to get a better view, she immediately recognized whose car that was.

Gene’s.

Why was he there? Judy thought back, remembering he was at the club and then...suddenly the night came back to her. She didn’t remember coming home, but she remembered him making her get into the back seat of his car. Quite embarrassed, she dropped her face into her hands.

“Oh, no,” she mumbled.

Wait, she thought, as her head popped up, did they sleep together? She couldn’t remember. Quickly looking down at her body, she saw that she was still dressed in her matching camisole set. Then she looked around her floor and there were no signs of any of Gene’s clothes scattered around.

She relaxed when she instinctively knew they hadn't had sex. Good gracious, she would be horrified if she had and couldn't remember. Gene would be more embarrassed than her in that regard.

Judy had just walked out of her bedroom when she heard Gene’s morning cough from down the hall. She followed the shuffling sound until she saw him in the guest room.

Securing his pants, he didn’t notice Judy as she leaned against the door crossing her arms. When he finished and looked up to grab his shirt, he did a double take on Judy. One of the straps on her camisole tank was off her shoulder, one of her thigh high stockings now lay in a pool around her ankle, her hair looked like a bird's nest and the makeup under her eyes made her look like 20’s Gothic actress Theda Bara.

"Gosh, you look so sexy in the morning," he joked. She didn’t look amused and he spoke in an army voice, “Wipe that smile off your face, soldier.”

Judy watched as he continued dressing, working his button up dress shirt.

“Why did you stay here?”

“You asked me to.”

“I did?"

He realized then that she probably didn’t remember much and decided to skip that conversation for now.

“How are you feeling?”

“Fine.”

“Really? You sure look hungover.”

“Well, I don’t feel it. I woke up around 4 and got sick but I took aspirin. I’m just tired, and very hungry.”

“Why don’t you take a shower and I’ll make us breakfast.”

Judy looked at him skeptically, “Why are you doing this?”

“Judy, just because we’re not together anymore, doesn’t mean I stopped caring,” he said coldly as he did up the last button.

It stunned her.

All she could do was muster up a soft, “Ok” before walking out to take her shower.

A little later, Gene was nearly finished setting the breakfast nook when Judy came in. Her voluminous curls were damp but she managed to put on a fresh, natural look to her makeup, and threw on a casual baby-blue romper dress. It was quite short, something she would most-likely play tennis in, and her feet were bare.

The two didn’t say a word as she sat at the table and he set their pancakes and bacon on it along with his coffee and her tea and of course some OJ. Judy felt a bit awkward at the silence, but Gene seemed just fine as he sat opposite her and read the Saturday morning paper. She distracted herself by listening to a Bing Crosby rerun playing on the portable speaker throughout breakfast. Gene did notice that her usual giggles and laughter during her favorite radio show was absent during it, which was highly unusual.

After her shower, and eating, Judy felt back to normal and more energetic, not just physically but mentally as well. It gave her the courage to break their silence.

“Thank you for breakfast.”

“Welcome,” she heard him mumble behind the paper.

Judy bit her lower lip a moment before continuing, “What a sad-looking day, huh?”

“I kinda like it. Reminds me of New York. It doesn’t rain here often,” Gene said back, his tone a little more engaged than before.

“Yah,” she agreed, “But it doesn’t make for a good Saturday, does it? Not much to do in the rain.”

“No, but maybe a day inside relaxing is just what you need... especially after last night.”

Judy heard the tone in his voice change to more sly and she cocked her head and spoke confidently, “I had a great time last night.”

Gene peeked at her from the newspaper before he folded it back up, “What do you remember from last night?”

“I remember that you ruined my good time.”

Gene stared at her before speaking matter-of-factly, “I corrected your mistake before it was made.”

“Oh,” she giggled, “Is that what you call it?”

“So,” he said, placing his coffee back on its saucer with a bit of a noise, “You remember all of it.”

“I don’t recall actually coming home, but I remember the club just fine."

"And you had a great time?"

Judy knew what he was getting at, "Yes. I know what you want me to say, darling, but I don’t regret any of it. Not. One. Bit.”

“You’re joking,” he said, astonished.

“No.”

Gene looked at her as if he didn’t hear right, “You...don’t regret anything from last night?”

“Mm, well, I should've probably ate while drinking, but,” she leaned her jaw on her open hand challenging him with a sarcastic voice, “what exactly are you referring to, Gene?”

“Oh, God,” he said leaning back in his chair, “Do I really have to say it?”

“Why would I regret that? It’s what I came to the club for.”

The tone in her voice alerted Gene that she was serious about that quest.

“Why,” he asked, shocked.

“Do *I* really have to say it,” she asked amused now.

Gene crossed his arms and just stared at her as if he was trying to read her. When she giggled, he shook his head.

“You were doing that to get me jealous, weren’t you?”

“What?”

“Admit it.”

“Gene, give me a break. I didn’t even know you were going to be at that joint. I went there with my girlfriend so I could get away from the people I knew so they wouldn’t stop me from having fun. You admit it. You were jealous and that’s why you stopped me.”

"Hey, Sweetheart, I have no problem admitting when I’m jealous, it's perfectly natural, but that’s not why I stopped you. You were drunk and acting foolish.”

“I may have been drinking, but I was not foolish. I knew exactly what I was doing. The alcohol just made me more relaxed.”

“Oh, you were relaxed alright, about as relaxed as his hands were when they were all over your ass.”

Judy didn't hesitate, “Which I enjoyed.”

“Judy…”

“Did I once look like I was uncomfortable or push him away?" When Gene didn't answer she nodded 'yes' proving her point, "Ah huh. I was very much aware that I was leaving with him when you acted like a goddamn caveman.”

Though sloshed last night, Gene could see she was sober as a judge in her acclamation and it frightened him a bit, “Why would you do that? Why would you say yes to a stranger asking you to leave with him?”

“I didn’t. He said yes to me.”

Judy flinched just a tad when Gene suddenly screeched his chair back and grabbed his empty cup of coffee heading to the counter. He was obviously very uncomfortable. Judy didn’t enjoy the conversation either, but everything was the truth.

“Why are you getting so upset,” she asked, standing up and brought her empty plate over to the sink, “I am an adult, you know, I’m a single woman, not to mention a soon-to-be divorced woman. I think I can make my own decisions.”

“Make your own decisions, fine, just think about them beforehand.”

“I did.”

“No, you didn’t. You made a decision, but you didn’t think about the what if’s.”

“Oh, what are you going on about now,” she asked, almost uninterested as she head back to grab his empty plate.

“I get that you’re a single woman, Judy. Go out and have fun, you deserve it, but next time you feel the need to jump in the sac, do it with someone you know, or at least know of. I know plenty of guys in our arena that would be perfectly willing to have an encounter with you. And they would respect you afterwards and be discreet about it. They *know* the business.”

“I wanted to get away from that last night. Why do you think we came there in the first place? I wanted to have fun with someone I didn’t know, who didn’t know me, but wanted me anyways. I did think about it.”

Gene banged her utensil drawer closed so hard, it made her flinch.

“You don’t get it,” his voice raised frustrated, “This was a complete stranger. You didn’t know him. Something bad could have happened.”

“For instance,” she said, placing a hand on her hip in annoyance.

“Many reasons. For one, even though it was consensual, he could have ended up getting forceful or, God forbid, raping you. He could have been a woman beater or left you on the side of the road afterwards.”

Her look made him see that she didn’t believe anything he was saying, that nothing like that would have happened to her. She was gullible. He had to get back on her terms to make her understand.

“Alright. Say he was a decent enough man, what if you got pregnant? You were drunk, you could have gotten careless. Or what if he ended up bragging to everyone that Judy Garland was easy? News like that would spread around this town like wildfire and Louella would have a field day. Stuff like that has happened before. You’re not indestructible or invisible in that regard.”

Judy lowered her eyes as she fiddled with her nail, “I guess I didn’t think about it in that way.”

Gene’s temper simmered down as she got it now and he spoke caringly, “That’s why I stopped you, I was looking out for you.”

“Thank you,” was all that she could muster up as she turned the sink faucet on.

“If I did that because I was jealous, don’t you think I would have taken you to bed myself?”

Disappointment and anger flashed in her eyes, “No, I don’t.”

To hide her explanation of what she had replied back, Judy started working on the dishes, even though Rosie, her housekeeper, was due there in a few hours.

Gene stood there, hand on his hip, as he watched her in silence, “I’ll never stop wanting you, Judy.”

Her hands frozen in the soapy water, she looked at him over her shoulder, “What?”

“It’s true.”

Judy turned the water off and dried her hands on the dish towel before facing him, “Why did you just say that to me?”

“Because of what you said last night.”

She nervously cleared her throat, “What did I say?”

“Right before you fell asleep, I don’t think you knew who you were talking to, but you were wondering why I didn’t want you anymore. I do, I’m just trying to get back to some normalcy in my life. I have to give all my energy to my marriage right now, but that doesn’t mean my feelings for you have changed.”

“Haven’t they,” she insisted as if she didn’t believe him.

“For God's sake, falling out of feelings for someone like you doesn't just happen overnight."

“It doesn’t, huh,” she insisted again.

Gene didn’t like her tone of voice and wondered if she had even heard a word he had said. It saddened him that she wasn’t getting through to her. He turned to walk out of the kitchen, and made it to the door when she spoke up.

"Prove it,” her voice sounded persistent but nervous.

"What,” Gene asked, his back still to her as he froze.

"Prove it," Judy repeated. She knew he wouldn’t prove it, now that he had made up his mind on giving all his ‘energy’ to Betsy. Her voice became angry, “Prove it or get the hell out of my house.”

Gene’s exasperation for her, sexually, and in this conversation, was too much to bear. All he could do at that moment was hit his hand on the wall next to the door. Judy waited a long moment for him to either turn around, or walk out, but he didn’t either. He didn’t even speak. Emotionally exhausted, and disheartened, she shook her head and walked his way.

She brushed up against him as she squeezed by to walk out the kitchen door but before she could take even two steps further, Gene’s hand grabbed her wrist holding her back, her arm in a 90 degree angle. Turning her around to face him, he swiftly planted her body up against his and took the two steps himself until her back was to the wall. She gasped and looked up at him with wide eyes.

His lips remained dangerously close to hers as he huskily spoke, “I don’t have to prove anything to you. I want you to feel it instead.”

Gene refrained from kissing her as he waited for some response.

“What are you doing,” she breathed excitedly, as he had been so adamant not to be with her like this anymore.

“Forgetting about normalcy just this one last time.”

Judy opened her mouth to speak but his mouth quickly descended onto hers.

Gene focused on the relieved whimper that escaped her mouth as he kissed her. When his tongue swept against hers for the first time in a very long time, she clung onto him desperately, as if she were afraid he would pull back.

He wasn’t going to, not this time. He wanted to remind her what she still did to him, and what he still wanted to do to her no matter how far apart they had been. And, since she had obviously been looking for a good time in the wrong place, he decided to give her body its craving in the right place.

There, pressed against the wall as they shared the most deepest, sexual kiss he could ever remember having, in the back of Gene’s mind, he knew her satisfaction wouldn’t last, that she’d be out looking for another man sooner or later. He needed a promise from her.

Slowly pulling back from their lip lock, her lower lip snapped back from his mouth, and she let out a breath through her nose biting the bottom of that lip that he had just been sucking on. He forgot why she stopped for a moment as she was so turned on that it made his dick harden.

“Judy.”

“Mmm,” was all she could reply as she felt those erotic butterflies in her tummy spread up to her chest, tingling her nipples.

“Next time you go out, you have to be more careful, and selective. Don’t go searching for an every-day stranger,” Gene placed his pointer finger and thumb on her chin gently lifting her face, “Promise me.”

Judy lifted her eyes to his and looked at them back and forth with sincerity, “I promise.”

Without his eyes leaving hers, his hands slid over her bottom and reached down as they slid down back thighs. They both let out an aroused sound as he picked her up, her legs around his waist, and walked them down the hall.

The rain hitting the window? No. The echo of the radio from the kitchen playing? No. Gene’s mouth between her legs? Oh, yes.

That’s all she heard, even ignoring her own whimpers and cries, as he oh so skillfully made her feel so delicious and orgasmic. She was perched on the large, long, rectangle console table against the curved stairwell wall in the foyer. The table was heavy, or else it would have most-likely broken when he sat her on top of it. They weren’t exactly gentle when removing one another’s clothes against it, either. The decorative books that had been on top were now laying in disarray next to a kneeling Gene, but the vase with a bouquet of mixed flowers, surprisingly, hadn’t been affected.

As Judy moved her leg up on his shoulder a bit, she felt her jumper dress slide off her ankle, where it had been dangling for a few minutes now. Gene’s right hand acknowledged her leg, and softly caressed her thigh there, not stopping his licks and sucks.

His knees started to feel the effects of the marble floor just then, but Gene didn’t care. The way her body, and her voice, were responding to him made it so fucking worth it. He had wanted to take her upstairs to her bed, but the passion and sexual frustration that had built up from not being together all this time, took its toll on them and they ended up there in the entry-way.

Gene let go of her thigh and reached down to caress himself with just enough pressure to relieve some tension. However, he didn’t realize how sensitive he had become and he groaned against her. It felt so good that he continued to caress his hard on.

He heard Judy giggle through a gasp as he continued to groan against her through his sucks. It was a different sensation for her that just heightened the experience. But he had to stop his wrist or he knew eventually he’d embarrass both of them. He wanted to get her there. When he adjusted himself for a more comfortable angle, he hit a sensitive spot for her. Gene heard another loud cry from her as her hand immediately squeezed his hair keeping his head in place.

Smiling to himself, he started flicking the area underneath her pearl back and forth that made her thighs quiver.

“That feels so good,” Judy breathlessly whimpered. When he stopped flicking that area, and started sucking on it instead, she gasped, “Oh my gosh.”

The place he focused on was so sensitive that it almost was a painful type of pleasure, but her rising orgasm made it feel unstoppable.

Continuing, he felt her body start to tense up and her cries skipped as she reached up behind her. Her knuckles turned white as she squeezed the white bars on the stairs. Hearing her squeak and her body still, Gene let his mouth off her and watched as her entrance contracted in a quick rhythm, getting even wetter. He thought he’d come right then and couldn’t wait to feel it himself.

Standing up, he remained in between her legs, as he gave her a peck on the lips. She immediately smiled and opened her eyes. Staring into his sparkling ones, she giggled amused from how amazing that was. He smiled back and gave her another kiss before lifting her off of the table. He didn’t want to fuck her here. But before he could even suggest moving, she immediately lowered onto her knees.

“Baby…” he protested but her mouth was already on him. He realized she was a giver as much as a taker during sex, and it pleased her as much to so, as much as did him, but he was far too ready.

Luckily, she was privy to his thoughts, and familiar with his body. Judy took it slow and didn’t concentrate on the most sensitive areas, unlike what he had just done, but his goal was different. Judy wanted him to come from being inside of her. When she felt his cock twitch, she stood back up. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she placed one hell of a kiss on him. He held her naked body closer and groaned happily at it.

Gene knew her legs were jelly, and his knees were pretty numb, but he managed to carry them up the stairs. He wanted to fuck her on her bed. Judy deserved that, especially since that other guy would have probably been a two-pump chump in the backseat of his Cadillac with her. Not him, though she didn’t make it any easier as her hips slowly slid up and down his shaft, which was nestled in between their lower belly’s as he walked them into her bedroom.

The rain had stopped, birds were now chirping outside her veranda doors and the sun was beginning to shine, as they made love on top of her luscious bed. The two enjoyed their closeness, as Gene laid fully on top of her, rhythmically moving his hips in and out in a timeless pace as they slowly kissed. But the heat from downstairs was very much present and soon his grinds got quicker, pushing his body against hers harder.

Just as the headboard started making a sound against the wall, so did Judy’s responses as she started moaning again. She was so slick and warm and tight, Gene found it excruciating to hold back. Fortunately, she answered his prayers.

“Fuck me,” she whispered.

They were having sex, but she knew the difference from making love and what she had just pleaded. At least she wasn’t naïve about that.

After giving her a kiss as if to say ‘ok’, he removed himself, which felt like a relief and frustration at the same time. Gene kneeled as she got up and turned around on her knees, holding onto the headboard. Both sated with natural lubrication, it was almost too easy as he slid into her center from behind. It always felt better this way, in a more naughty sensation.

The sound of dogs barking outside and the ticking of her clock on her nightstand was muted by the pounding of their skin as he fucked her. It wasn’t even a full minute when he felt his balls start to tighten. Groaning and nearly holding his breath to keep himself from letting go, he started to feel her twitch around him and he wanted to cry out with relief that she was close. He was too focused on the sensations right now to pay attention to her moans. By now he was familiar with what each of her sounds meant, which was a good way for him to know which direction to go, but right now he didn’t have that kind of concentration.

Gene didn’t even hear her whimper that she was coming when all of a sudden his cock was being milked hard and fast by her orgasm and another rush of her arousal soaked him. Without warning, he felt his pre-cum and had just enough time to pull out. Moaning loudly over and over, he stroked himself frantically as his orgasm shot out onto her lower back.

The phone ringing woke both of them up. Judy lifted her head from Gene’s chest startled as he reached over sleepily picking up the receiver. He didn’t answer, obviously, he handed it to Judy. She had to get her bearings a moment, as she hadn’t realized she fell asleep, before answering.

“Hello?”

“Hi, sweetheart, it’s Van.”

“Oh, hi.”

“How you feelin’,” he asked amused.

“I’m fine.”

“Swell. Say, is Gene still there?”

Judy furrowed her brows and looked at Gene, “Uh, no, he’s not,” Gene mouthed ‘what’ and she continued, “Why?”

“Because his wife called me for a second time. First time I was able to tell her he was still sleeping but it’s the afternoon now. I told her he left but thought I’d try to see if he was still over there so I could warn him.”

“Oh, golly. No, he’s not here.”

“Alright. Well, I'm glad you feel ok,” Van laughed, “You should have seen you last night. You were…”

Judy hung up the phone annoyed.

“What,” Gene asked, sitting up curious.

“That was Van. He said Betsy has called him twice looking for you. He uh, he just told her you left. He was calling to see if you were still here.”

“I told him to cover my alibi so I could stay with you. I really should get going before someone sees my car out there,” he said and got out of bed.

She nodded and sat up, the sheets around her as she hugged her knees to her chest.

“Are you going to be alright?”

“Oh,” she smiled, “I am now.”

He leaned down, his hands pushing onto the mattress as he came nose to nose with her, “Remember what you promised me.”

“I know,” she said and placed her hand on his cheek as she kissed him, “Thank you.”

“Friends?”

Judy couldn’t hide the quick disappointment in her eyes but she respected him enough to respect his wishes of working on his marriage.

She smiled and nodded, pinching his cheek, “Friends.”

Right before Gene walked out, he looked back at her, “Judy.”

“Mm hm?”

“Maybe I was a little jealous.”

Her smile broke wide and he winked before walking out.

#jugenea #judy garland #gene kelly #jg fans #gk fans

20 notes · View notes

flightofaqrow · 3 years ago

Text

YOUR CHARACTER IN FIVE QUOTES!

( repost, do not reblog. ) Tell us your favorite quotes from your character. Give us an idea of who they are by five things they’ve said.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Alright, buckle up, I’m stealing this meme and repurposing it for my own use. Probably more than five, and including some quotes from others about him, though I’m going to try to keep it in groupings, and also not meant to be exhaustive of qrow’s character, but rather, to point out some very poignant lines that have effected my portrayal and... some possibly in an unpopular way compared to what I’ve seen in the fandom? I think Qrow Branwen is more complex than fitting the broody broken boi trope would give credit for (though he at least fits it as an overall stereotype).

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

1) I’m absolutely sure Qrow had a rough start and transition from the tribe to ‘civilized society’, coupled with typical teenage hormones and mood swings, but generally, Beacon was a good time, and he sees himself as a good huntsman, and (though we may joke about it sometimes) he absolutely does not have an active nor passive death wish.

Yeah, yeah, I know he has a song all about how he self depreciates and carries shame, but that’s a theme of his attitude, not backed up to be every single aspect of his life by actual canon. Quite the contrary.

I don’t know where fndm gets the idea that he constantly lost his battles (especially to Raven) or was perpetually looked down on or stayed an angsty, broody teenager (who could never possibly have ever even breathed a single happy breath on his own without Summer??) all four years. As if school was hell and he never came into his own until STRQ was a graduated unit or something? If ever?

Leo tells Raven she and her brother are evenly matched. Raven herself - who takes pride in being stronger and more clever than others - describes them as a pair: “we were good.”

“you're talking to a member of the coolest team that graduated Beacon! ...we were pretty well known back in the day. ...hey, we looked good! and I have a number of inappropriate stories to back that up!”

“let me tell ya, these kids are way better than we were at their age. ...well, not better than me, specifically...”

“a professional huntsman like myself is expected to get results as soon as possible.”

The way Qrow talks about his past, as well as carrying a memento of team STRQ around with him, it’s very nostalgic for better times. The way he talks about his work, if not himself, can actually be to the point of being self-aggrandizing, instead of depreciating. He’s even able to admit that his dreaded semblance, Misfortune, “comes in handy in a fight.”

“lots of us thought you were just layin' low. eventually, we just came to accept that you were probably dead. but the stories about you, i based my weapon off of yours. i wanted to be as good as the Grimm Reaper.”

Qrow talks about himself as striving to be better. It seems he never really sees himself as reaching that standard, but it certainly implies he knows he’s not at the bottom - he had an ideal he wanted to reach and likely worked towards. Notice the use of “us” and “we” as well - he talks about himself as part of a group of larger huntsfolk circles. Who knows if this refers to students or licensed professionals or both, but this heavily, heavily implies that he was more than just a sad, outside loner, at least for a time; he chatted with others and traded stories about goings-on and missions and idols.

Somewhat related and leading into...

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

2) At least around this blog, Qrow does not have an inferiority complex because of Raven.

Does he have some internalized shame about being soft that he can’t quite shake? A few insecurities about being unwanted compared to her natural leadership and competence? Yes. Does he consciously view himself as lesser than her? No.

Also... he’s not co-dependent on her. To a degree, for while? Yeah, there was probably an unhealthy reliance going on there. But Qrow and Raven establish themselves with their own identities at some point, they’d have to, to chose different paths so stubbornly. There’s a rift there, eventually, if not always having been at odds in some ways and comfort in others.

“Raven's got an interesting way of looking at the world that I don't particularly agree with. [The weak die, the strong live. Those are the rules.]”

“...they were killers and thieves.”

We are shown that the twins were raised with this weak/strong dichotomy. Raven bought into it, but Qrow explicitly separates himself from that belief. Shown again when he mocks Raven with, “because that was your rule, right?”

He believes in true family, he believes in protecting the weak, he believes in doing good, he believes in standing up for what’s right. He may not like being emotionally vulnerable, but he shows softness and kindness to others, and for as much as he likes his flourish when fighting, he also isn’t afraid to look an absolute fool either.

He is shown de-escalating conflict time and again, even if he also falls back into violent, defensive patterns at times, too. He resents Raven for the choices she made, and as far as I interpret, thinks she’s the lesser one for running away and abandoning her family and her mission. (Meanwhile, she thinks the same of him for turning his back on the tribe.)

He all but spits on the tribe’s way of life, is willing to attack them outright to get the Spring Maiden. Why would he judge himself by those standards any longer? No, he lives by his own code, a huntsman’s code, and even has some pride in that. It’s why he can call Clover out on it. It’s why he folds when Robyn holds him to it.

It’s why it hurts when he finds out what gave him more meaning, aligned more with his own heart, than the tribe’s dogma may not actually have any purpose at all...

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

3) There’s so much to unpack here:

“No one wanted me... I was cursed... I gave my life to you because you gave me a place in this world... I thought I was finally doing some good... Meeting you... was the worst luck of my life...”

No one wanted him? I believe this means the tribe, maybe even Raven, maybe trying to make friends, but no one until Oz? Does this include STRQ? I have trouble reconciling that one with everything else we’re shown. I still maintain he was part of bigger circles, but we get confirmation that these were probably fleeting or superficial. He knew people and was known, but no one stuck around. Also more confirmation of his values. Gave me a place sounds like so much more than refocusing to me. It’s not gave me a direction, not told me what to do, it’s took who i am and gave that person a place to thrive - despite the bad that comes with - to work towards something better. Just like he always wanted.

But then he backtracks. What is it he regrets? We do know how he likes to go into dramatic hyperbole about these things when he’s upset. [eg. “we’re not family anymore.” “i shouldn’t have come. i shouldn’t have let any of you come.” “we can kill the man who put us here.” “gone. like everybody else.”] (I love that crwby lets their characters do it. we all say things we don’t mean in the moment, give voice to those intrusive thoughts.)

I’ve talked before about how I picture him having flashes of all the lives he could have had instead. Would he have gone back with Raven and at least still had her? Would he just have been a normal huntsman defending people from Grimm without the crushing extra knowledge? Might he have been able to have a relationship or family of his own had he not signed up for the vagabond spy life? Does he just resent losing Summer and Raven because of how things went down? We don’t know, and I think the point is that he probably doesn’t either, but the weight of sacrificing all those alternatives and putting so much faith in Ozpin, stacking so much of his life’s work and identity on being part of the inner circle, comes crashing down on him all at once.

also quite fitting...

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

4) "Nice place to raise a family. ...If you're ...into that sort of thing."

This is from his World of Remnant narration, talking about Patch, but it hits so damn hard. The softness and warmth in the first half of the statement, followed by the harsh need to qualify it in regards to his own outlook... We learn all we need to know about his opinion of the subject.

We see the conflict right there - the possibility of such a thing brings a wholesome lilt to his voice, yet he implies that it’s not something he personally intends to pursue. Is that because he doesn’t want it or because he thinks he can’t or shouldn’t have it? I don’t think that’s clear, and he may not know either.

At the very least, I fall into the camp of him believing he doesn’t want it. Combine that with the fact that he does pick up that spy life, which makes keeping his distance a necessity, and makes settling down near impossible, and then he definitely knows it’s not in the cards for him.

So I think it ultimately falls somewhere between. Why would he make the commitment to being a lone spy if he had dreams of love and a family? ...But then why would he resent making the sacrifice of that possibility later if he didn’t?

Having his nieces around probably softened him up to the idea, but he’d already made his decision by that point. He’s also solid and generally happy with his choices at the point it would most matter. He’s married to his job. He’s fulfilling his missions well, in well-suited ways for his strengths and flaws. He has his nieces around as a balm on any sort of biological clock. He has his purpose with Oz. Until he doesn’t.

This is an incredibly long-winded way of restating that one of the headcanon hills I do stand to die on is: Gray-romantic Qrow.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

5) “some people are just born unlucky... my semblance isn't like most - it's not exactly something i... do.”

I am constantly confused by the amount of people trying to do character analysis around Misfortune and Qrow based on standard semblance lore, when he has yet again stated explicitly to the contrary. We all have carte blanche ya’ll. We can do whatever we want with this, because he’s already told us his semblance breaks the rules.

My full headcanon for it is here and my opinion about the direction I hope it takes is here but tl;dr

Unless we learn otherwise, there are very, very few ways I believe Misfortune is a reflection of Qrow’s soul, if at all. This is from the first headcanon, but it’s worth restating, because it’s important to me, aaand fits the theme of pulling in some quotes from other characters:

Everyone likes to quote Ren and his description of someone’s personality being incorporated into a semblance. I don’t buy it for qrow. Here’s the FULL quote: “A common philosophy is that a warrior’s Semblance is a part of who they are. Some say your personality and character can define your Semblance while some claim that it is the other way around. Of course, there are still many who don’t see a connection at all.”

So unless we find out otherwise I will also die on the hill that qrow is an example of the middle part. Qrow’s personality/soul has nothing to do with why his semblance is what it is, but being forced to grow up and live with Misfortune has defined him tremendously.

OKAY, there are some smaller quick ones, but I’ll stick to my five points like I promised at least, and maybe do a lesser version some other time. :]

#qrow branwen #* legends and stories; some of them true; some made up = meta *#* hey don't get mad cause i'm right = headcanon *#long post tw

26 notes · View notes

secret-engima · 4 years ago

Note

Here I am. The anon who enables. The enabler anon. Send forth your RWBY verses' rambles *opens arms wide to receive* (only if you want to of course)

ANON WHO ENABLES. ENABLER ANON. BLESS.

Wolfcury:

-Blake isn’t sure what to expect of her new teammates, but Ruby having a GIANT WOLFDOG is not one of them. It takes- a long time for Blake to not flinch and throw herself onto something high whenever Mercury shows up, even though he TRIES to not be a gremlin and bark or prank her.

-Weiss lasts maybe three days before she breaks out the baby talk. Because while Mercury is big he’s still a dog and we’ve seen how Weiss responds to Zwei. Mercury is annoyed by the baby talk and ignores her until Ruby convinces Weiss to “please just talk normally”. Then he will permit the scratching of ears.

-Weiss and Blake are both going to be SO SHOCKED (and upset) that Mercury is actually a person and they were never told.

-Ruby gets super into prosthetics and the building of them because of Mercury. She knows they can get him a prosthetic human leg, but it’s not going to transform into a wolf leg when he does. That technology just- doesn’t exist in that specific way yet. So Ruby decides at age ten or so that she’s gonna make one.

-Ruby: It’s transform when you do and it’ll be great and it’s also gonna be a *gun*.

-Mercury: Ruby I have teeth and claws, I don’t need a gun for a leg.

-Ruby, excitedly drawing prototype blueprints: GUNLEG.

-She does in fact build him a transforming gunnel with Velvet’s help. Mercury is a goodnatured Sigh.

-MercuryxEmerald is the eventual ship planned, and Yang teases him mercilessly for it once she’s sure Emerald is serious about defecting to the good guys. I’m also dabbling in Rosegarden (is that the ship name? OscarxRuby) because the idea of Ruby going from “ew crushes” to having one of her own amuses the heck out of me.

Always I Dreamed (Raven AU):

-Raven has a propensity for adopting things, as evidenced by Ozpin and later Emerald. But it doesn’t stop with them, and her habits are infectious. At various points in Yang’s childhood, she gets a gruff ex-assassin sibling from Mom (Mercury), two adorable cousins from Uncle Qrow (Ren and Nora), one angry older sister bandit (Vernal), a Cool Big Sister Figure with Fire Powers (Amber), and of also another Big Sister with Many Issues of The Anger that Raven carefully helps her work through. This particular big sister is a fav of Ruby’s because she can make cool toys from black glass.

-Yes Raven is fixit adopting Cinder

-No I didn’t see that coming either, neither did Raven. It just kinda- happened.

-Raven absolutely sings RWBY songs sometimes. Usually “Home” as a sibling lullaby for Qrow and later Team STORQ, then later All Our Days for her kids. But sometimes she can be heard humming other themes under her breath.

Azur verse:

-I’ve mentioned that Ozpin is a former Khara and proceeds to adopt Azur the feral Khara child, but I can’t resist touching on how Azur and Qrow meet.

-Azur is feral bby. He woke up in this world in the wilds and his Semblance (or magic, Oz is still not sure which it is) saved him from Grimm, and Azur tended to follow Grimm everywhere because they kept the other predators away. So this child is very feral when Oz finally coaxes him into his house. Azur is also protective and dedicated and knows that the only two people who come here are Ozdad and Housekeeper Lady.

-So when Qrow, very drunk and newly returned from a mission, decides to crash on Oz’s couch, Azur doesn’t have a clue that this is normal and fine. Cue Qrow being attacked and knocked out by a very persistent and angry 7-10 year old.

-Ozpin comes home to a trashed living room, a very proud Azur, and a Qrow who has been tied up using every bit of rope, string, or wire Azur could find and is nursing both a concussion and a hangover.

-Ozpin unties Qrow and explains he’s welcome here once he’s stopped laughing himself sick.

Dragon Yang:

-Yang really likes Ozpin. *Really* likes him. It’s not a crush or anything, but she went from a world soaked in magic to Remnant which has barely any left and it makes her feel off balance and numb. Then she goes to Beacon and the Headmaster HAS MAGIC. She can feel it. So she starts to heavily gravitate toward him when possible because he feels “normal”

-Ozpin, who has been the object of many school hood crushes, takes a bit to realize that Yang is not yet another student with a crush. And then he’s confused on why she keeps falling into his orbit when possible.

-He has no idea that in this magic-starved world, he is basically the living equivalent of dragon slayer catnip.

-Oznip.

-Ruby also thinks Yang has a crush and is thoroughly grossed out because *Yang he’s a TEACHER*. Yang just laughs at her baby sister’s discomfort.

Noctscar:

-Luna wakes up slowly, in fits and starts and dreams of rain and a knife in her side. She wakes up to the cold, to the loneliness, and then wakes up further because no child should have to deal with this.

-Luna wakes up when she is once again eleven years old and stares at herself in the mirror.

-Weiss Schnee, second daughter of Willow and Jaques Schnee, looks back. And looks *tired*.

-Her sister has already joined Altas academy and is on the fast track to the military, and though she loves her sister, it smacks greatly of Ravus from a lifetime ago and Luna cannot bear to look at Winter sometimes because of it.

-She dotes on her little brother, on poor Whitley who is neither stubborn like Winter or an old soul like Luna and yet is stuck in this abusive, neglectful household. She tries to shield him from mother’s blank stares and father’s sharp bursts of temper. She has lived with bruises like this before, better she take it than Whitley.

-When she is young, she hears on the news in school that there was a mining accident, that a great many Faunus died. While the rest of her classmates titter, one girl who Luna always avoided because she hung out with a crowd Luna didn’t trust, bursts into tears and turns bright blue. The other girls recoil. Luna sits down next to the girl and holds her hand, not hiding the tears falling from her own face at the thought of such massive loss of life.

-She never sees the Faunus girl again, but it is a wake up call. A reminder that something is very likely *wrong* with her father’s company. So she investigates.

-She is twelve the first time she sneaks out in a hoodie and a little painted theater mask. She makes it all the way down to Mantle, and there she reaches for blistered hands and weary souls. She is no longer an Oracle, but magic is of the soul and she remembers it well. When she calls, golden magic answers. She heals until she is exhausted, and somehow she manages to make it home without falling over or getting caught by Klein. She does it again, in between recitals and school and taking care of Whitley, she continues to sneak down to Mantle. Never speaking, never showing her face (they would hate her for her blood if they knew, she knows, reject her help if they saw her white hair and blue eyes), but always helping and healing where she can.

-The people of Mantle name her. Ghost, they call her.

-Moon Angel, the Faunus whisper. Helper, healer, lost soul.

-When she is thirteen, Luna signs up to a combat school despite her father’s disapproval. When Whitley clings to her in fear that she too will abandon him as Winter has (Winter visits to rarely, and always her attention rests solely on Weiss when she does and it makes Luna so *angry*), Luna tells him her plan. She will become a Huntress, and when she has her license, nothing will stop her from coming and taking him away from this place. She will be able to make money to provide for them, to free them from this cold palace of finery and recitals and empty wine bottles and bruises under their clothes in the shape of a man’s hands.

-When she is seventeen she applies to Beacon rather than Atlas, in defiance more than desire. She bids Whitley goodbye and promises once again to come back for him, he just needs to hold on a little longer.

-There is faith in his eyes as he waves her off. Luna died keeping her word, her duty, in another life. She will do no less here.

#SE asks #anon asks #Always I Dreamed verse #Run Wolf Warrior verse #One in a Hundred verse #Through the Dark verse #Dragon Yang verse #Secret Engima Rambles

68 notes · View notes

geniedocroe · 4 years ago

Text

CLOSE AS STRANGERS

(don malarkey X reader)

angst, potential fluff

wc: 4430+

you were very in love. in fact, you had been for quite a while. since your seventh birthday actually. it was a blur of memories now and you could just barely recognize it. thirteen years passed quickly. soon things began to change and the future you were seeing . . . it wasn’t very bright and happy.

donald malarkey (your best friend, soulmate, the person you were in love with) had always been very perfect in your eyes. there wasn’t much to despise about him. so you simply couldn’t. you couldn’t hate him. of course there were a few things that set you off. these were only little things though. for instance, when the two of you would share a milkshake or something of the sort and he’d accidentally drop it (he was fairly clumsy), or how he’d jokingly trip you (that ticked you off to no end), or when he’d notice everyone else but you . . .

despite these minuscule flaws you loved him. from his toes to the stunning freckles and ginger hair. he was as pretty as a picture. he truly was. you didn’t believe you were as pleasing to be around, but it was always a confidence boost when don politely asked your mother if you come outside for a while. you felt as though he cared when he did little things like that.

today was like any other. you sat on the front porch of the little house you had grown up in, reading a book.

you thought maybe that was why you weren’t as desirable as the other women in town. they all seemed so daft and boring. apparently these “men” didn’t appreciate someone who could use their brain. it frustrated you to no end.

your like any other day was actually very tedious. it was one warm day in june. your mother wouldn’t allow you to work because she encouraged you to attend college first, which you did, but it was summertime. there was not one thing for you to do. so half of your day was spent sitting on the porch, flipping through books you had appeared to have read hundreds of times.

the excitement bubbled throughout your chest when you saw a mess of red hair running your way. it was about time he had shown up. don ran through your front yard and up the steps. he stopped short of you, trying to catch his breath.

“good afternoon, ma’am.” the ginger managed to cough out with a very bad british accent. he never failed to try and turn anything into a joke.

you looked up from your book with a soft smile. you responded in the same accent. “good afternoon, my good sir.”

“the weathers quite alright today, isn’t it?” he questioned, sitting beside you on the swing.

“i guess it is looking rather nice.” you gazed towards the sky. immediately regretting your decision to be blinded by the sun, you blinked at him, seeing colors.

“nice enough for a walk?” don asked, dropping the accent.

you grinned, gently shutting the book before standing to enter the house. “let me ask my mother.”

“you’re twenty years old!” he called after you as the screen door slammed shut. your laugh could be faintly heard.

don gave a soft little chuckle at the sound of your own laughter. he thought it was quite musical. everything about you screamed peace. it was like tiny birds helped you get dressed in the morning, or mice aided you whilst cleaning the house. you were some sort of sweet dream. something that he didn’t even know he wanted, someone he didn’t know he needed.

he may have been smart at times, but he was completely oblivious to your feelings and his own. you hadn’t made it extremely obvious that you were infatuated with your best friend. however, you dropped a subtle hint every now and then. don would just seemingly dance around it, but after some time you realized he didn’t even know how love-struck you were. in fact, you didn’t think he shared that very same feeling. you didn’t think he even had a minuscule bit of that feeling.

don sure felt something, but he thought it was just nerves. his chest felt loose and fuzzy, his stomach seemed to have joined gymnastics, and he just couldn’t seem to stop wringing his hands when you were near. he didn’t hate the way it felt, then again he certainly didn’t appreciate it either.

seconds later you reappeared, slamming the screen door shut behind you. there was a distant yell within the house. don looked up at you with innocent eyes.

“she said yes, of course.”

he stood up with a grin plastered over his freckled face. you bounded down the steps with your dear friend in tow. as the two of you stepped onto the sidewalk, he looped his arm through your own. you appreciated this dearly. it was as close to holding hands that you were gonna get, but it was casual enough where people didn’t ask you too many questions. this action had also made you feel safe. like the two of you were just out of arms reach.

of course you never felt unsafe in don’s presence. you weren’t incapable of protecting yourself, he was just your knight in shining armor. don was there and you would never force him to leave.

“what book were you reading?” don asked, gazing over at you, taking you in as if there was no more time left in the world.

“the wonderful wizard of oz. i cannot tell you how many times i’ve read that book.”

don thought for a moment before replying excitedly. “do you remember when we saw the movie and you dumped that bucket of popcorn on that poor guy? his face is fried into my brain. that was truly one of your best moments.”

“i live to please.” you sighed, throwing up your free arm. “you know what i still can’t get over? how amazing judy garland is. like truly, she is perfect i think.”

“she may be judy garland, but she doesn’t have a thing on you.”

you ducked your head away as your cheeks began to grow warm. a little voice in the back of your brain was screaming at you to just tell him before it was too late. you didn’t know how much time you had left or what girl was going to come and steal him away before you got the chance.

the rest of your walk continued it silence. the empty moments were filled with tranquility. don felt as though he wouldn’t be able to experience times like this for a very long while. all he wanted was to be around his best friend. all he wanted was for you to understand. for you to hug him and tell him that everything would be alright in the end.

approaching “your spot” on this day was unlike any other. it was a beautiful maple tree in the middle of a field with one ancient looking tire swing. not a lot of people knew about this place so it was perfect to get away. to just be the both of you. this was your safe place. you loved it here. you practically grew up here.

you could faintly remember the moment everything changed for the two of you as best friends. the moment you fell in love. you wondered if don remembered it better than you did. you wondered if he even thought about it at all. because to you, it meant the world.

“hey don, can you promise me something?” you asked, hanging upside down from the tire swing. you struggled for a moment before jumping down.

“i’d promise you anything.” he smiled at you as you sat down beside him. the two of you leaned up against the tree, looking out over the field.

“promise we won’t ever be like my parents. that we’ll always be best friends. cause, my parents have no friends and i always want you around.” you wrung your hands together nervously.

“of course we’ll always be best friends. i promise.” he stuck out his pinky to you and you accepted graciously. “oh! i have something for you.”

don pulled his hand away to grab something in his front shirt pocket. the look he had on his face said everything. the excitement had built up at this point. in his hand was held a small chain with a locket hung securely on it. he handed it to you and watched as you inspected it. engraved onto the silver was “forever in my heart” with two tiny roses.

“wow, don!” you gave him a huge grin as he secured the necklace. you threw your arms around him, hugging him tightly. you spoke into his shoulder. “i love it. thank you!”

“happy birthday.” he said fondly as he pulled away. he stared at you for a moment before he made an impulsive decision.

it was quick and it surely caught you off guard, but don pressed his lips to yours in a fleeting motion. you stood their wide eyed as you blinked at your friend with burning cheeks. don’s face was almost as red as his hair. and you were sure you had never felt this way before.

even at seven years old, you fell in love.

you plopped down beneath the tree without a care in the world. dust flew up as you disturbed the spot with your presence. don stood hesitantly beside the tire swing. his hand reached out to hang onto the rope.

looking out over the empty field sent a warm sensation from the tips of your toes to the top of your head. the sky seemed to stretch for years and the grass was as yellow as ever but that never stopped you from adoring it. the soft chirp of birds was music to your ears. how could you ever learn to loathe a place like this?

“i need to tell you something.”

you looked towards don. he fiddled with the rope for a moment before looking up at you. he didn’t expect you to already be gazing at him with puppy dog eyes. the sight of you almost made his eyes well up with tears.

“i’ll always listen. you know that.”

“i know. that’s why this is going to be so hard.”

as he sat down beside you, you began to think. with the war going on you weren’t very confident in what he was meant to tell you. half the men you had gone to school with had already enlisted or been drafted. it was only a matter of time before don would be leaving too.

there was a moment of silence where the both of you gazed out into the open field. you had to remind yourself that this was the place you loved and that don was your best friend. he wouldn’t ever intentionally do anything to hurt you.

“y/n,” don turned to you, placing a hand on your knee. “i’m being drafted.”

you blinked at him once, twice, then a third time. he stared back at you with sincere, innocent eyes. he prayed that you would understand. that this would all be okay and your friendship wouldn’t suffer.

whatever preparation your mind had done was no use. not a single person on earth was ever ready to face war. it didn’t matter how old you were or how many horrors you had seen. don would come out of the other side of the war as someone else. you knew he would. he would barely make it out alive. you didn’t want to know that person.

“i have to go.” you muttered, shoving his hand away from your knee.

immediately you stood with don following suit. he looked so incredibly hurt by your sudden movements. this was not the reaction he had expected.

a part of you was telling you to turn around and hug him one last time as you stalked off. you knew he was following close behind you but you were hard to keep up with. it was like a giant black hole had materialized in your chest and was beginning to consume all of your organs.

a hand grabbed your shoulder and you whipped around at an ungodly speed. the tears in your eyes were visible. you weren’t angry. don took a step back from you. he frowned at your reaction but still managed to choke out a sentence.

“this isn’t my fault, y’know. i wish i didn’t have to go.” he tried to reach for your hand but decided against it at the last moment.

“i just hope you make it home some day. you stay safe wherever you go, kid. good luck.” you gave a small smile before turning once again.

don was quite taken aback. you hadn’t called him kid in years. it was a joke that had died away after being used one too many times. then it became something you only called him when you were hurting deep down. he couldn’t fathom that this was one of those times.

as you quickly walked through the field you saw flashes of your childhood before you. the good, the bad, all of it. you love it here. actually, loved it.

over the next few days, you and don had absolutely no interactions. you strayed away from him and he felt hopeless. any time you saw him approaching you, you ran in the other direction. however, he never seemed to chase after you. neither of you knew what hurt more.

all don wanted to do was say one last goodbye. he didn’t know if he’d ever be able to see you again. there was some part of him that needed to see you but he couldn’t understand why. so, he left.

the day after don left you had begun to regret not going to see him. that black hole in your chest never subsided and you were afraid it was permanent. you had never gone so long without talking to him. the two of you had always been attached at the hip. if he never made it home . . . this silence would become your biggest regret.

your family looked at you with annoyance as you shoved the food around on your plate. you felt selfish to not want to eat but you truly weren’t hungry. you weren’t tired. you weren’t interested in anything. you had no motivation. it was obvious.

“what is the matter, dear?” your mother asked.

“nothing, mother.” you set down your fork, resting your chin in your hand.

“elbows off the table.” your mother instructed. you did as told. “it isn’t nothing, y/n. you haven’t spoke a full sentence in over a week. you haven’t left your bedroom. i haven’t even seen donald around here. are you ill? have the two of you gotten into an quarrel?” your mother questioned you with clear worry on her face. the rest of your family was silent. they looked at you curiously.

“i ain’t ill and there’s nothing wrong with don. he’s gone off to fight in the war. we won’t be seeing him for quite a while. we’ll be lucky to even see him again.” you huffed, studying the table cloth.

your siblings exchanged a glance. they didn’t understand the war. their naive innocent brains couldn’t comprehend why the war was being fought or why some people might not ever come home. you wished you could be as angelic as them.

“are you infatuated with that boy?” your father asked. mother elbowed him sharply in the side as your head shot up.

“infatuated?” you scoffed.

“let me tell you, y/n, military men are no good to marry. i like donald, but he’ll be completely gone after this war. they never come back home with a sane mind.” your father pointed his fork at you with a raised brow. “thought it will be such a same. he had a great future.”

“yes, because you’re such a great judge of character.” your mother dismissed her husbands opinion with a wave of her freshly manicured hand. “when he returns home you will dote on that boy. i’ve seen firsthand how much warfare can change a man, he’ll need all the help you can give him.”

you looked back down at your plate before looking up once more and scanning every face at the table. they stared at you expectantly.

“may i be excused?”

dear y/n,

i know we haven’t been on speaking terms and i’m sorry for that. i miss you so much. you are my best friend. your opinion means everything to me, but i hope you have tried to come to terms with my absence. it’s been over a year and neither of us have reached out to one another. that truly breaks my heart.

i’ve finished my training as a paratrooper. i’m sure you’ve never heard of that before. to put it simply, alongside the men i have trained with, i will be jumping out of airplanes with a parachute. it sounds terrifying, i know it does. however, i have trained with the best. you don’t need to worry.

i have met some amazing people during my training. it’s safe to say i’ve also met some insufferable individuals. there’s this guy named skip. he really became my best friend over the past year (of course no one could take your place). you would love him. he’s a great guy. super funny too.

my company consists of mostly good men. i don’t think i would ever say otherwise. they have to be extremely brave to want to jump out of an airplane. i have really gotten to know these men and i’m sure i’ve made bonds that will never break.

the beginning of my training took place in georgia. we ran up this mountain more times than i could even imagine. it was so painfully hot everyday. i don’t think i’d ever want to live there.

today i’m in a camp in new york. we leave in a couple days. we’re getting on a boat that’s heading over the atlantic ocean. i don’t know where we’re going or how long i’ll be gone. i’ve always wanted to visit europe, but not like this.

i hope you’re doing well. maybe you’ve graduated from school. maybe you have a great job. maybe you’re dating the best man you could find. maybe you have a kid. maybe you don’t have any of that. what a shame that’d be. you’re a real catch. you deserve anything and everything.

even if i don’t ever come home, i want you to live the kind of life that was always meant for you. find a new best friend. move on with your life. show everyone that you can’t be walked all over. don’t think that it’s all over because you won’t be seeing me again. in fifty years you could have everything you’ve ever worked for.

i miss you. i always will.

-don malarkey

dear y/n,

in about two days we will officially be entering the war. i’m terrified and i know i should be. i’m just trying to push through everything so that one day i will be able to come home.

there’s not much i’ll be able to say. i actually don’t know what to say. training has always been rough. they claim they want us to be the best. i secretly think they just want to see us struggle.

there has been a lot of difficulty over the past couple of months. despite all of this, there’s been the usual shenanigan. skip and our other friend alex, have dragged into some odd situations. i’m glad they do though. these are some memories i’ll hold close to my heart forever.

i still miss you. you never responded to my last letter. unless you did . . . perhaps i never got your response. i hope you’re doing great.

is there anything knew happening in your life? did you graduate? have you met any peculiar people? have you met anyone who’s completely changed your life? do you still go to that diner? i know you loved it there. i miss the milkshakes so much. are you working at all? do you miss me?

i pray that you will be able to respond to me. i’ll never know what my last letter will be. this could be it.

i miss you. i always will.

-don malarkey

dear y/n,

i still haven’t gotten a response. i hope you’re okay. i don’t know if you’re even alive. how horrible would it be if i was the one fighting in the war and you’re the one who’s passed?

this war is brutal. it’s horrible actually. i cant even explain how bad it is because those words aren’t even in my vocabulary. i’ve seen some really horrifying things. things that would make your hair curl.

we’ve lost people. good people. men with lives and families back home. people just like me. it just makes me realize that my days are potentially numbered.

i ended up getting into some trouble actually. a friend of mine and i had stolen a motorcycle. we went through the country in england and honestly i haven’t had that much fun in a long time. it was nice to let go and appreciate everything that was happening at the time.

if you are reading this, please respond. i need to know that you don’t hate me. or if you do hate me, i still want to know. i haven’t gotten many letters but every single one i get, i hope it’s you.

how are you? i really want to know. it’s been so long. are you okay? i miss you. i haven’t spoke to you in over two years. i’m sure something has happened in your life. something that has changed you completely. please respond, y/n.

i miss you. i always will.

-don malarkey

“hey mal!” skip called over to his friend who sat beside george luz.

don looked up curiously. skip, alex, john julian, and babe heffron stared back. they all shook furiously from the harsh weather of bastogne. taking the piss of conversations during their sad mealtimes were the only way to get by.

“who’s that girl back home that you’re constantly chattering on about?” skip asked.

“girl back home?” george echoed skip with raised eyebrows. “why have i never heard about this?”

don rolled his eyes as everyone looked at him with curious eyes. he had only ever spoke about you to skip. he hadn’t even told alex about you. i mean, what was there to say? you were only friends.

“i gotta hear this.” joe toye leaned forward to listen in.

“there’s this girl back home and she’s . . . she’s everything. you know, we were best friends. we grew up together. she hasn’t spoken to me since i told her i was leaving though. and – and i used to think i wouldn’t need her to just exist, but now without her . . . i feel like there’s a part of me missing. it’s horrible. she’s my best friend, y’know.” don explained. beside him george burst into uncontrollable laughter. skip and alex shared a look before cracking up as well. julian looked at babe with a confused expression. “why are you laughing at me?”

“sounds like you are in love with her, my friend.” joe nodded. george took a moment to try and regain himself but he burst back into laughter a second later.

“there’s no way. i’ve known her my whole life. i just - i just miss her, that’s all.” don pushed george away. the man was all but laughing in his face.

don felt like he was folding back into himself and pulling away from his friends. he didn’t want to bring you up and then get laughed at for your friendship. you hadn’t even spoken in years.

“you said you haven’t spoken in years?” julian piped up. don nodded. “well, why not?”

“i don’t think she wanted to face the idea that i wouldn’t be around for a while. she was pretty hurt. called me a name i hadn’t heard in years. i don’t blame her.”

“oh, so she’s in love with you too?” joe suggested and don gave him an incredulous look.

“i strongly doubt that.”

“you never know until you tell her that you love her too.” julian said.

“what the hell do you know about love?” babe snorted at the replacement next to him.

“i just think it seems kind of obvious.” julian shrugged. “he can’t realize that he’s in love with her and she could be in love with him and doesn’t realize it either. if the both of them can’t come to terms with it then the other would never know. so, they’ll both be suffering while they watch the other move on with their lives. might as well tell her now.”

everyone blinked at julian. for being so young and virginal, he spoke very wisely about love. he had more of a mind than don did. perhaps he would confess to you . . .

y/n,

i’ve never felt more alone. skip & alex got hit. they’re my best friends. i don’t know what to do. please tell me you’ll still be there when i get home.

-don malarkey

don,

i’m sorry about your friends. i’ll be here.

-y/n

dear y/n,

the past couple of months and years even have been extremely difficult. the war has changed my life drastically. it’s put me through the ringer. i pray it hasn’t done the same for you.

everyday i anxiously await the announcement of the japanese surrender. i cannot tell you how exciting that news was. the war is finally over. after years of all the pain and suffering for millions of people. of course, there’s still tons of rebuilding that will need to be done and there’s still so much that needs to be change. all i want to do is come home.

i hope you’re waiting for me. if you haven’t already met someone and started growing a life for yourself, i’d love to go out with you. you’re always the only thing i can think about. which is not good in a war.

i love you. i have always loved you. you mean everything to me and it’s hurt the both of us knowing that neither of us had said it sooner.

i’m coming home soon. i promise. i’ll be home before you know it. please don’t forget about me.

i miss you. i always have.

-don malarkey

#band of brothers #hbo war #easy company #donald malarkey x reader #don malarkey #donald malarkey #donald malarkey imagine #band of brothers imagine

68 notes · View notes