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i-me-mine · 2 years ago

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As time goes by | Chapter 14: Dissonance

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Word Count: 5.8k

Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | AO3

Chapter Summary: After doing your best to deal with the recent bad moments, you want to move forward and make things right, and maybe the upcoming prom could help you with that. But would you and Eddie be able to overcome everything and get back in synch? Uncle Wayne is there to try to help Eddie with that.

“I hate this idea. Why can’t I be the one to take you there?” Eddie’s voice was filled with frustration.

“I don’t think your van can handle the trip, Eds…”

The mix of shame, anger, and hurt still weighed heavily on your heart, and as much as you wanted to be brave enough to confront Billy and Samantha and show them that their actions would not break you, the truth was that just the thought of facing them again made your stomach churn. You decided to visit your future college campus as an excuse to run away from school for a while. You were glad that Steve didn’t think twice when you mentioned your crazy idea and offered to go with you - it would still be quite a long ride by car, but he was up to doing anything that would make you feel better.

You were also just a couple of days from finals, the teachers wouldn’t be giving anything new, and a trip away from Hawkins might be just what you needed. Clearly, Eddie disagreed with you and was giving you a hard time when you came by his trailer to say goodbye.

“We could go together by bus; we could take the train… you don’t need to go with Harrington.”

“I’ll only be gone a few days; time will fly by. I’ll be back before you start to miss me” You hugged and kissed him on the cheek before leaving.

“It could be worse” Eddie thought, and then he remembered - It would be worse later. Now you were saying goodbye for a few days, but soon you would be gone for good. He could not name the feeling that was taking residence in his heart. He felt powerless against an unseen enemy that seemed to be putting you two more and more apart.

There were advanced guides to teach how to be a better dungeon master; he knew strategies to defeat DnD creatures… but he felt there was no guide he could use on his quest to get you back together. The universe was a ruthless dungeon master, and he was afraid that he would lose that campaign.

The trip was exactly what you needed to distance yourself from all the drama that was happening recently in your life. As you cruised down the highways, your favorite tunes played on Steve’s radio, with you singing along and laughing. You stopped at roadside diners, eating greasy burgers and milkshakes. Steve even tried playing on the Pac-Man arcade machine - making you laugh, seeing him twisting his tongue trying to concentrate on playing and failing to get a good score.

Your excitement grew as you approached your future college campus - you marveled at the historic buildings, the streets, and the city’s vibrant atmosphere. The whole time you could feel Steve looking at you with admiration, proud of you for pursuing your dreams and being happy about it. You explored the campus together, taking goofy photos, spending time lounging on grassy lawns and imagining your future college life, with Steve making fun of you when you found out that your assigned dorm was the farthest one from the campus - considering the rough days you had recently, being able to enjoy things carelessly was a nice change.

As the trip drew to a close, you felt grateful for Steve’s unwavering support and friendship. While you always wanted to go to college, you were also sad about leaving your hometown and your friends behind - you were afraid of losing them, and you confessed this to him on your trip back.

“Hey, you know we will always be close, no matter the distance, right?” he reassured you.

“It’s not the same, you know… but depending on the college you choose, we wouldn’t have to wait until the breaks to see each other!”

“About that….” Steve sighed. “I didn’t get the grades to the Tech program my father wanted for me, so he decided to teach me a lesson… I’ll stay in Hawkins, and I’ll have to find a job.”

“What?” you didn’t expect to hear that. “In what kind of universe are we? So I get to go to college, and Steve Harrington will stay at Hawkins working. Is this a joke?” you laughed.

“Thanks for bringing that topic up” his tone was sad, and you regretted trying to make fun of him.

You brushed your thumb on the back of his hand. “Hey, I’m sorry.”

“That’s ok… well, you have one more reason to come home during your breaks. I know you would come for Eddie anyway, but I’ll be there too now.”

“I already told you, you are not getting rid of me so easily, big boy. I would try to meet you wherever you would be.” you ruffled his hair.

As he pulled into your driveway, you exchanged heartfelt goodbyes, and, with a grateful smile, you promised that you would see him tomorrow at school.

Feeling the breeze in your hair, you waited for Eddie in his van the following day. A wide grin appeared on his face when he left the trailer and saw you, running to you as if scared you would disappear if he were not quick enough. He wrapped his arms around you, hiding his face in the hollow of your neck, breathing your scent while hugging you.

“Never leave me again,” he whispered.

“I was gone just for a few days…” but the truth was that your heart and body longed to feel his embrace again too.

“It felt like an eternity,” he interrupted, hugging you tighter. Only those who wait for something know how much every second is heavy on the heart.

Stories of how the trip was were shared on your ride to school. He held your hand the whole time and, every once in a while, took his eyes out of the road to look at you to check how you were. As you were getting close to the school, anxiety started to kick in, along with a whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you.

“Maybe this is a mistake… What if I’m not ready to go back to school yet, Eds?” you admitted, your voice cracking with emotion as you started to feel overwhelmed.

“Sweetheart, just say the word, and we’re out of here.”

You knew that Eddie had good intentions, but his tone made you suddenly feel like a coward. “Well, It’s not like I can’t hide from them forever… And I have you here for me, right?”

Eddie kissed the back of your hand. He reminded you that it was okay to take the time you needed to feel safe and that he and your friends would support you no matter what, that you didn’t have to face any of that alone, his voice full of empathy and reassurance.

You felt a sense of relief as Eddie’s words sank in; having him by your side giving you a glimmer of hope, feeling again grateful for his understanding and support.

“They don’t define who you are; remember that. You are the bravest girl I know; you’ll get through this… one step at a time, okay?”

As much as you were still under the impression that everyone was looking at you while you walked through the corridors, the truth was that the students were too absorbed in their conversations to notice you. Students were too busy discussing buying yearbooks and the deadlines to order graduation gowns, hats, and tassels; corridor walls were covered with advertisements for this year’s prom.

“Hey, you all good?” Nancy greeted you, giving you a warm hug.

“Yeah, I’m good,” you replied, trying to smile.

Jonathan studied your face briefly, probably looking for warning signs, but then relaxed. “We missed you.”

They tried to update you on how the last days have been when you noticed Gareth approaching your group with timid steps.

“Uh, Hi… would you mind if I borrow her for a sec?” he asked Nancy and Jonathan, who nodded and gave you space.

“Please, I need your help… see, I invited Leila to prom, and by a miracle, she accepted… but how the hell do I get a corsage for her?” he said, blushing hard.

You smiled, seeing how nervous he was for such a small thing. Then, you tried to calm him down, explaining that there was a flower shop near the Radioshack store where he could buy a corsage, reminded him that he would need to ask for the color of Leila’s dress to match, and tried to clarify a million doubts he had on how to behave with her.

“It would be easier if I could have just asked you to prom… but I would like to keep my head connected to my body; thank you very much.”

“I wouldn’t decapitate you if you asked me to prom, Gareth.” you chuckled.

“Not you, but Eddie would,” he replied, and you raised your eyebrows in response, so Gareth continued. “He threatened not only me but anyone he believed could be thinking about inviting you, and he was dead serious. I think he wanted to be the only one to invite you to it.”

“Well, he didn’t invite me…” you hoped the disappointment wasn’t too apparent in your voice.

“But you just got back. Maybe he didn’t get the time to do it yet, but he will soon.” Gareth tried to encourage you.

And when later you found a folded note from Eddie in your locker, “Haircut at my place today, please?”, your heart filled with hope.

The soft rays of the afternoon sun streamed through the window of Eddie’s bedroom while you stood behind him with scissors in your hand. Eddie’s curly hair was unruly, but you were doing your best trimming it. Your heart fluttered with nervous excitement as you combed through his locks gently, feeling shivers down your spine as your fingers grazed his hairline.

“Maybe I should start charging you for my services, my lord… or you should find another person to do it,” you said playfully.

Eddie was enjoying the sensation of your skilled hands on his head. He couldn’t help but notice the closeness between you, the electricity that seemed to crackle in the air. He found himself stealing glances at you in the mirror, admiring your features and how your eyes lit up with each snip of the scissors.

“You are the only one I trust. No one is allowed to do this, just you.” he closed his eyes for a moment and smiled. “My whole world changed that day you told me you would care for my hair if I wanted to let it grow.”

“Maybe I should have left Wayne to buzz your hair; he has talent with that.” the side of your mouth curved in a smile while he stuck his tongue out.

You asked a hundred times for Eddie to sit still, but he just couldn’t, the same way that he just couldn’t shut his mouth, throwing one joke after the other. Your laughter filled the room, and sometimes your eyes locked in meaningful gazes, but you knew that the more chaotic and energetic Eddie was, the more nervous he was too.

Tired of waiting for Eddie to bring the topic to the conversation, you gave it a go. “It seems everyone is trying to look good for the upcoming prom…”

“It’s so stupid; only brainless people will be there.”

Your heart sank, and your hands faltered momentarily, the scissors almost slipping from your grip.

“Aren’t you going to prom?” Your voice trembled with disappointment as you stepped back, hurt flooding your heart.

Eddie seemed oblivious to the impact of his words, and he shrugged nonchalantly. “Of course not. Why would I want to go?”

Your eyes filled with tears, a mix of sadness and anger. You had waited for this moment, hoping that Eddie would ask you to prom, and now your dreams were shattered.

“But Gareth told me you threatened him when you found out he would ask me to prom. So why did you do it then?” Your voice rose, your emotions overflowing. “Someone could have asked me, but you didn’t let them do it.”

“I-I don’t know… I just did.”

“Bullshit! Why, Eds?” You pressed, and he glared at you for a long minute.

“I didn’t want anyone to take you to the prom,” Eddie confessed, realizing how betrayed you felt. He tried to explain himself, but you felt frustrated that he had been so selfish.

“I can’t believe it!” You choked back tears, your voice cracking. “You don’t want to go with me. You don’t want me to go with anybody else... How miserable do I have to be before you’re happy, Eddie?”

His rejection washed through you, and you couldn’t stop thinking how silly you were to believe he would ask you to prom. Eddie Munson, going to a school ball? With you? You were so mad at being so naive that you could feel the tears coming again. “Don’t cry, don’t fucking cry.” you told yourself, trying to force the tears back by grinding your teeth together.

His eyebrows knit together. “I don’t get why you are so mad about it,” he admitted, and he seemed unnecessarily frustrated. “There is no reason to go at all… it’s so unimportant! It’s a meaningless night of something that’s almost over” He continued to stare at you with curiosity.

“I’m sorry if I thought that it could be a special night, Eddie… a chance to spend time with someone you care about.” you sighed. “I don’t know; maybe it would be nice to do one last thing together before we go our separate ways. We have been apart many times this last school year; I just wanted to finish it well. But it seems I’m never on your plans, am I?”

You knew you were a fool for fantasizing about dressing up and slow dancing with him. Damn it, you even thought that maybe that could be the night when you would have the chance to have a romantic moment and even share a kiss. Isn’t that every normal girl’s dream? Kissing her prince at the end of the ball?

You should have known that “normal” usually avoid you. You couldn’t find the words to express how you were feeling now. You didn’t even know why you were trying to explain it to him, as clearly he didn’t care about it.

At that moment, he realized how much hurt was behind your words and how tormented you still were by all your recent struggles; with every drop of happiness leaving him, the familiar spark vanished from his eyes because he knew that he made a huge mistake.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart…”

But the damage was already done. You were already converting all that sadness and hurt into anger.

“You know what? I’m tired of your excuses. I’m tired of you never thinking about me, my feelings, or the fact you keep making decisions that impact me without talking to me first. I’m so tired of all of this… I… I can’t do this anymore. I really can’t.”

You started to get your things into your backpack while his hand was trying to catch yours to stop you. “I’m sorry! Please, stay; I won’t do it again.”

“You surely won’t do it again, Eds…at least not with me, because I’m sick and tired of feeling like this, and I’m leaving.”

With that, you stormed out of the room, and Eddie chased after you, calling your name.

“Fucking leave me alone!” you screamed at him through your tears flowing relentlessly now.

Eddie was stunned and speechless, watching you go with regret etched on his face. He realized that he had let something special slip through his fingers and once again hurt the person he cared about the most.

You entered your home, throwing the door shut and locking it. Your hands were trembling when you got your phone to call Steve, asking if he was alone at home - which, thank God, he was, and you told him to wait there as you were on your way. You wiped away your tears, feeling a mix of pain and determination. You took your bicycle and made your way to Steve’s house. You took a deep breath and rang his bell.

It didn’t take 5 seconds for him to open his door, concern written all over his face. “You ok?” he asked, knowing the answer when seeing your eyes red from crying.

“Pretty goddamm far from ok,” you replied, accepting Steve’s invitation to enter.

He held your hand and guided you to the plush couch in his living room, listening intently as you told him everything that had happened.

“I don’t like to see you like this… you’re too cute to be sad,” he said, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“I’m too sad to be cute, Steve,” you sniffled.

He got up to get you a glass of water, and while you were waiting for him to come back, a tiny voice in your head told you that it was all your fault.

“Maybe I’m overreacting; it’s just prom; I shouldn’t feel hurt and rejected…” you told Steve when he returned, taking a few sips of water.

“Hey, your feelings are valid, little lady, don’t even start thinking otherwise.”

“All I wanted was for him to love me too. I don’t know what else to do to make this happen.”

“If he doesn’t love you by now, he will never love you!” Steve raged, his hands clenched into hard fists.

And those words stung hard. Because it was like a wake-up call for you. You were so focused on loving and wanting Eddie that reason became just background noise, and Steve was the one putting right up on your face the facts you chose not to see, tears filling your eyes once again.

“Oh no, I hurt you. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry; I didn’t mean to.”

“That’s ok, Steve. Words are just words.”

“We both know that’s not true.”

“I just don’t want to feel anything anymore. It seems a great option, considering what I feel now sucks.” you said, biting your lip.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get through this, and I’ll be by your side every step of the way.”

“I’ll skip prom altogether; just a few more days, and I’ll be free.”

Steve held your chin, making you look straight into his eyes.

“No way I’m letting that stupid boy ruin your prom experience. You deserve to have a great time, regardless of what he said. I’ll take you to prom myself if needed.”

“Are you out of your mind?” you snapped.

“Seriously, I’m not joking.”

“I don’t want to mess with your chances of being Prom King, Steve. And you already have a date; Stacy would kill me if you dumped her to go with me.”

“Shut up, pretty lady.” he stared at you in disbelief.

“I don’t need another Samantha seeking revenge on me.”

“So we better start thinking how to get someone to ask you to prom, right?” he smiled. “But first, I think you need a good session of comfort movies to make you feel better.”

And he put on a movie, pressed play, and hurried back to the couch. You kicked your sneakers off, tucking your feet to the side, and leaned your head against his shoulder, his arm going automatically around you, making you feel safer.

The next few days passed as a blur. At the end of another school day, you walked swiftly out to the parking lot, which was now crowded with fleeing students, when Gareth approached you with a severe expression on his face.

“Hey, I need to talk to you. I messed up, and I’m really sorry.”

“What do you mean?” you replied, puzzled.

“About Eddie… I’m sorry, I didn’t know he had no intention of taking you to prom.”

You felt that sting of pain again and hoped you didn’t look too crestfallen.

“It’s not your fault. That’s ok,” you replied, trying to smile.

“But here’s the thing. Marc heard about what happened, and he offered to take you to prom… and, well, he’ll have to drive me to prom anyway, so it’s a win-win for us.”

It sounded too perfect, too convenient, too easy to be something real. “I don’t want anyone asking me to prom out of pity; thank you very much.”

“She is still the same stubborn girl…” Marc’s voice came from somewhere behind you, startling you. You could practically picture the teasing grin on his face before turning.

“You may call me crazy… but I’m doing it because I genuinely want to, not out of pity or anything,” he added.

The idea still seemed absurd, but you saw no trace of lies or doubt in his eyes. “Wait, do you mean it?”

“The choice is yours, of course… but I’d be honored to take you to prom.” He took your hand and gave it a small kiss. “Will you be my date?”

He said those words calmly as if he had asked you what time is it. Your brain had a hard time processing it. You looked at Gareth, who nodded encouragingly.

“If you don’t want to, that’s ok, I understand…” Marc hesitated, afraid that it would end up being a bad idea.

It was as if you could hear Max’s voice in your head saying, “Just say yes, silly!”.

“I... I-I’d love to go to prom with you.” your eyes lit up with a shy smile.

Marc grinned, and Gareth gave you a thumbs up.

“Great! I’ll leave you guys to it. Marc, take good care of her, okay?”

“You got it, cousin,” he replied to Gareth before turning to you. “Do you want a ride to whatever place you are going? I can take you.”

You agreed, and as you walked to his car, you asked him why he was at school; he explained that he had come to talk to Principal Higgins to get permission to attend prom as he was not in school anymore. You admired Marc’s effort and sincerity, starting to feel excited about going to prom with him. He was also beyond thrilled when you told him that you got accepted to the same college as him and was enthusiastically telling you things he believed you would love once you started studying there.

Meanwhile, Eddie watched the scene at the far end of the parking lot. He was never a big fan of Marc, and he didn’t like to see you acting all giggly with Marc. They say that the happiness of people you care about should make you happy, but Eddie only felt pain, jealousy burning his throat, his heart heavy with everything he never said.

Nancy was holding a curling iron and deftly weaving strands of your hair around the hot barrel, creating tight curls that bounced as she released them. You fidgeted with your hands nervously, seated on a stool.

“Please, help us here; we need you to stay still.”

Max was right in front of you, concentrated on her task at hand - she got the challenging mission of trying to make you look good and was carefully applying mascara, eyeshadow, and lipstick on you. Nancy offered to help you get ready for prom in her house, and Max happily teamed up. Nancy’s room was filled with the sound of chatter and laughter, you three friends catching up on the latest gossip, including Max sharing stories about her snowball.

“You’ll be the prettiest girl there; we’ll make Steve regret not asking you to prom.” Nancy’s voice was filled with determination.

You and Max exchanged looks - Nancy didn’t know about your feelings for Eddie and seemed to believe that Steve was the one you wanted to go to prom with, not Eddie.

“Steve will be too busy on his quest to be Prom King,” you chuckled. “And thanks to him, I got my prom dress.”

“How come?” Nancy asked.

“Well, we went to this high-end dress store; there were so many racks of glamorous prom dresses… But, oh my, I was feeling so out of place… and you know, I don’t have a lot of money, and just the thought of spending so much on a dress was stressing me out… if he weren’t there holding my hand, I would have run away.”

You told them how when you finally found a dress you liked, it was far beyond what you could afford. But Steve noticed your disappointment when you looked at the price tag and offered to buy the dress for you as a gift.

At first, you were hesitant, thinking it wouldn’t be fair to accept such a generous gift. But Steve insisted, saying that he wanted to do something special for you and that you deserved anything to help make your prom perfect. Finally, after a bit of back-and-forth, you came up with a compromise. You agreed to accept the dress as a gift, but only if you could sell it later and use the money to pay Steve back.

“And I’m glad you agreed because this dress is gorgeous!” Max gushed.

“You’re ready, take a look” The excitement at Nancy’s voice was palpable, and you timidly looked at yourself in the mirror, nervous but also excited.

“You look beautiful,” Max said in a cheerful voice.

“And nothing like myself,” you said. “I’m not good at this princess thing. I like my messy hair, ripped shorts, and old sneakers.”

“Just enjoy your princess night, ok? I’m sure Gareth and Marc will be here soon.” Nancy said while you three shared a hug, you were beaming with happiness, grateful for your friend’s kindness.

The sun was setting over the horizon, the colors mixing in the sky as Uncle Wayne made his way back to the trailer. Eddie was sitting on the porch, staring out at the street, lost in his thoughts, looking troubled and downcast.

“Hey there, son,” he said as he approached. “Mind if I sit down?”

Only when Eddie heard his voice he snapped out of his daze. He looked up and shook his head, inviting his uncle to join him.

Finally, after a few moments of silence, Uncle Wayne spoke up. “Okay, son… You were on top of the world before, but in the last couple of days, you look so down… Wanna talk about it?”

Eddie hesitated for a moment before finally opening up. He told Uncle Wayne about the high chance that he would not graduate again that year while you were going to college soon and how he really wanted to go with you. Still, he knew there was no way he would fit into the plan. He told about how inadequate he felt right now, how directionless and adrift he was.

Uncle Wayne offered Eddie a cigarette, also taking one for himself. Eddie took a slow drag of his cigarette in a desperate attempt to calm his nerves, being encouraged to speak more by the gentle look that Wayne was giving him.

So he shared how his emotions were conflicted inside his head. On the one hand, he knew that if anyone deserved a chance at a better life out of Hawkins, that one would be you, and he wanted nothing more than to see you getting your dreams coming true… but on the other hand, he was reminded of his own lack of prospects after that school year. Seeing you preparing for the new chapter in your life where he did not see a way for him to belong was driving him crazy.

Eddie ran his fingers through his hair several times and took deep breaths before continuing.

“I didn’t tell you because I was too ashamed to admit but… that time I ran away… I visited my old man.”

Eddie was afraid that Wayne would react badly, but he was still calm, so Eddie kept talking.

“I’ve never been to a prison before, and man, that was depressing” he took a deep breath. “Can you believe that motherfucker started to cry when he saw me? But not tears of joy of seeing his kid after years, no… he said he cried because it was too painful to look at me as I remind him of her too much.”

Eddie started to sweat, feeling nauseous, and his breathing shortened. Wayne put a hand on his shoulder, gently squeezing it. “Hey son, I’m here, just breathe with me, ok?” helping Eddie to calm down.

“I told him that I was glad that he looked at me and remembered Mom because everyone in this fucking town looks at me, and all they remember is him.” Eddie sniffed. “And I told him I was scared that I was becoming just like him. So I begged him to tell me where he went wrong, so I could try not to do the same and not mess up the life of the woman I love just like he did.”

“So you asked your dad for love advice?”

“He-is-not-my-dad.” Eddie muttered. “And no, I asked him for advice on how not to be like him… but this whole idea was stupid, I lost my head in the thought of all the stupid things I did and ended up getting things worse.”

Eddie took another drag of his cigarette. “He told me to stay away from her if I really loved her. That I would only destroy her future, that I’ve seen what happens when a woman stays with a Munson, and that It would be fucking selfish of me to make her go through this hell.”

And Eddie had taken his father’s advice to heart, and now he was noticing that it probably wasn’t the right thing to do, but he had already let it poison his mind.

“But you came back… and I’m glad you did. I know it’s tough when dealing with conflicting emotions like that…”

“You know what made me come home? Other than missing her?” Eddie asked, but Wayne just shrugged his shoulders.

“You. I called one day, and you told me you missed me but that you loved me and would respect whatever I choose to do.” Eddie gave Wayne a warm smile. “You told me how you felt, but still let me decide. That’s what love should be about, right?”

Eddie ran his fingers through his hair again. “But I never let her know how I feel, and I keep pushing her away from me, taking away her chance to decide too.”

“I’m glad I helped you somehow; you don’t have to figure it all out on your own…” Uncle Wayne said while putting a comforting arm around his nephew’s shoulder. “but why don’t you just tell her?”

“I just can’t; I can’t! It scares me so much! I wanna be the man that saves her. The one that she’d be absolutely lost without. I wanna be the one who makes her life worth living.” Eddie covered his face with his hands. “I don’t know what to do; everything is so hard and confusing…. I can’t be with her right now. I need to be better first, she deserves the perfect man, and I’m far from it.”

“I don’t think this whole idea that you shouldn’t be with someone until you’re “perfect” is right, son… and I think you are taking it a bit too far and are losing yourself in this whole process… I bet she isn’t looking for a perfect man or even a perfect you… maybe all she wants is you, pure and simple.”

Eddie sighed deeply. “I don’t know, I’m second-guessing everything; I’ve not been myself lately… we used to be best friends… but now I think we are out of tune, so disconnected…. And I don’t know what to do because the thought of losing her kills me… funny to think it when I’m already a lost soul.”

“You are not a lost soul, son… None of us are. And everyone’s afraid of something: That’s how you know you care about things, when you’re afraid you’ll lose them.”

Eddie looked deep into his uncle’s eyes, wondering which life experiences he had lived that enabled him to share such words of wisdom - but he was grateful he was there sharing them with him.

“Well, I think I already filled up my quota of lost battles; I hope the universe will help me a bit…”

Wayne ruffled Eddie’s hair. “Sitting around wishing never works, son… if you really want something or someone, in your heart, you know what to do. Sometimes in life, you have to take a chance and put yourself out there; you’ll never know if you don’t try. The only one standing in your way is you.”

Upon hearing that, a hopeful smile crossed Eddie’s face. He gave Uncle Wayne a tight hug and then got his van’s key from within the trailer. He was glad that he still had time before the prom started, so he drove to the school parking lot, hoping to be able to find you so you could talk.

Eddie sat in the car, nervously fidgeting with his rings. His heart raced as he glanced at his watch for what felt like the hundredth time. - He parked the van almost at the corner of the building entrance, allowing him to stay hidden but still with a good view of who was arriving.

He then saw Gareth and his date leaving a car and Marc making his way to the other side to open the door, helping you get out of the car while holding your hand. Eddie was taken aback by how utterly, heartbreakingly beautiful you were, the navy blue floating dress flattering your body, your hair styled in waves cascading down your back, your tattoo in full display.

His heart shattered as he noticed Marc holding you close, his hand in the small of your back; how you seemed to be having a great time, laughing and talking as you walked towards the entrance. He couldn’t help but feel a sting of jealousy as he saw how comfortable you and Marc seemed with each other, enjoying each other’s company.

He was looking at you with a pained expression on his face. As he watched you enter prom, his mind raced with thoughts and emotions, analyzing everything in his head, wondering what he could have done differently while his grip tightened on the steering wheel. Eddie went there confident but was now a nervous, scared mess.

“Fuck this, man,” he exclaimed before letting out a high-pitched scream, banging his head at the steering wheel.

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❤️ Thank you if you are still here, thank you for reading! It really means the world to me to know that there are people out there that take the time to read this little silly story of mine! Your feedback, likes, reblogs, and comments... they put a smile on my face every time and inspire me to keep writing! 🥰

Note: This chapter was getting too lengthy, so I had to break it again into 2 parts - the first one is here, and the rest will be in the next chapter, which I hope I won’t take long to finish writing and I expect to post soon.

@aftermidnightwriting, I still can't believe that you invested part of your precious time in creating headers and dividers for this fic; thank you very much!!

@sidthedollface2 @bimbobaggins69 @moonmoosblog @aftermidnightwriting @ghosttownwherenoonegoes @basketcaseeeeee @chloe-6123 @tlclick73 @them-cute-boys @mushroomelephant @crook3d-strang3r @ingridvasquez @vulcrum332 @1paire2vans @strangerthingsstories5255 @stranger-messenger @mitenchii

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polyghostfacehours · 3 years ago

Note

Controversial take: Scream 5 was only good for you know who showing up and the Meeks. That's it.

Vague for spoilers.

Amber was annoying from the get go and I was rolling my eyes at her the entire time. She's pretty af but she was just the same old bitchy teen girl trope, Liv was annoying, Wes was cute but forgetable, I want to love Sam but she's a Mary Sue (They pointed it out too as a requeal so she gets a pass as a meta horror trope) Tara was meh, Richie was meh. I bet my cousin who the Ghostface was within the first 30 minutes and was right at the end, hardly any red herrings or twists, Ghostface motive was stupid and recycled. I would have rather the one Ghostface who got the Macher house be the one seeing shit like Stu and Billy egging them on and going insane to kill as a repeat of 25 years ago rather than what we got. You know who dying in 5 was underwhelming and could have been so much more memorable and it should have been by someone that would have felt more...Honored to do it and who fans thought it would be as much as he's mentioned.

I know they pointed it out as a meta horror but it felt like a wattpad fanfiction.

The only reason we liked it was for nostalgia of seeing these kids related to our favs and the Meeks being Meeks. THAT'S IT.

I liked Scream 5 better than 4 for characters and atmosphere but 4 alone had better plot and Ghostfaces by a landslide.

Ohoho fuego indeed. I personally really enjoyed Scream 2022 for more than just Billy and the twins, but I can see why others wouldn't.

Amber was hot, and I liked her in the climax. She was pretty boring for most of the movie, but the way she was an homage to Stu was awesome in my eyes. She plays crazy really well, like when she pointed to her head with the knife and made an "eee eee" noise or when she spit saliva while choking Gale. I loved her bullshit panicked reasoning for doing what she did. Imho I loved her in the climax, even if her motive was lame lol.

Liv was boring imho. But I think that was the entire point. Mindy said "you're too boring to be the killer." and lo and behold, she was lol.

Wes is cute and I liked how he was the level-headed one of the group. The shower scene was also 😏. But I'm disappointed they cut out him being openly gay, and having him have a crush on Sam for no reason? Kinda sad Kevin let that fly as producer, since he had a lot of input and worked closely with the director's according to them. The franchise would've had it's first confirmed homosexual cast member that wasn't played like a joke the way Robbie was. It would've been a nice step

Sam was awful and it's entirely because of Melissa Barrera's performance.

Tara was incredible and it's entirely because of Jenna Ortega's performance.

Other than that both Sam and Tara on paper are a bit meh. Sam had so much potential to be interesting by being Billy's kid, but she just...wasn't.

Richie was trash, but his actor did an pretty good job at playing the clueless boyfriend. I had spoilers he was a killer, and I still started thinking maybe I was wrong bc he just genuinely looked so confounded the entire time lol. But Richie himself? Garbage. Also he's ugly and he's a redditor.

Mindy is tied with Tara as my fav character. maybe even more than Tara tbh. Chad was also phenomenal.

I would have rather the one Ghostface who got the Macher house be the one seeing shit like Stu and Billy egging them on and going insane to kill as a repeat of 25 years ago rather than what we got.

Damn maybe you should write that 😏😏😏😏

Also, to be fair, even Sam pointed out she was in the middle of fanfiction lmaooo. So I guess they did that part right.

#oh i have a lot to say about the movie #its my 2nd fave now #but i can see why it would suck in some ppls eyes #i still love 4 #scream 5 #scream 2022 #scream spoilers #sam carpenter #amber freeman #richie kirsch #mindy meeks-martin #chad meeks-martin #wes hicks

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yurtletheturtlehenderson · 4 years ago

Text

COSMIC - S3:E4; Chapter Four, The Sauna Test - [Pt. 5 - FINAL]

A Will Byers x Reader Series

𝘔𝘪𝘬𝘦, 𝘓𝘶𝘤𝘢𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘞𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘳𝘶𝘪𝘵 𝘌𝘭, 𝘔𝘢𝘹 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘠/𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘔𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘍𝘭𝘢𝘺𝘦𝘳'𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘙𝘰𝘣𝘪𝘯, 𝘚𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘋𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘳𝘶𝘪𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘯𝘦𝘢𝘬 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘓𝘺𝘯𝘹.

📝: you have... NO IDEA how long i have been sitting on this one. Just... wow okay. And this is just the beginning, wait till you see the cabin scene 👀 Edit: tell me why I had the main chorus of Timber Feat. Ke$ha in my head on infinite loop while writing the fight scene 🤦‍♀️ LMAO

⚠️: asphyxiation [aka suffocation], several mentions of blood, and graphic (?) depictions of violence throughout. Also, long chapter

||𝟑𝐑𝐃 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐏𝐎𝐕||

"MAX! LET ME OUT OF HERE!"

Everyone watched stilled, with pounding hearts as Billy's billowing cries echoed out across the weight room. No one more so than Max. He had barely taken his eyes off of her and his voice fell into a weakened plea.

"Let me out,"

And then it was gone. Replaced with a malice-filled hiss that was beginning to feel a little too familiar for their liking. One by one his eyes flicker between the party members with a twitch in his eye as he began to shift, eyes darting past their shoulders and sweeping the room before his next glare.

"You kids," he pants, each breath like swallowing smoke. "you think..." he was swallowing embers. "this is funny?"

Mike and Lucas share a nervous glance.

Another heaving breath, the flames now licking his lungs.

"You kids think this is some kind of sick prank, huh?" With a snarl, he rears his head back and spits on the glass. "YOU LITTLE SHITS THINK THIS IS FUNNY?!"

Anxiously, Max eyes Will from where he stands beside El and he meets her gaze. The two seem to share the same thought. It was working.

But the sauna's prisoner had caught on, and as the fire was rekindled in his veins, he shifted nervously again; eyes darting once more around the room before landing on the two.

"OPEN THE DOOR!" They all flinch when he throws himself against the window in a fury. He was growing more frantic. And he wasn't stopping. "OPEN THE DOOR! OPEN THE DOOR!" He pressed his nose against the glass, showcasing his darkening eyes. "OPEN THE GODDAMN DOOR!"

The fire was now ablaze, the blood in his veins felt as if it was actually boiling, cooking him from the inside out and he finally collapsed on the sauna floor with a groan. Will took that as his cue and raced to the thermometer on the wall where the needle rested at the end.

"We're at two-twenty,"

When he returned to El's side, a great wail reverberates from within the sauna followed by a great many thumps.

"It's not my fault," he weeps, catching them all by surprise. "It's not my fault, it's not my fault, Max. I promise it's not my fault."

With a pounding and aching heart, Max crept towards the sauna door. Many eyes darted after her, fearfully, dealing between her and the only barrier protecting her from what lay inside.

"What's not your fault, Billy?" She asks.

When she peers behind the foggy glass, her heart threatens to split in two; he sits before her on the tile floor, beads of sweat blending with his tears and his hands glued together in plea as he looks up at her.

"I've done things, Max," he sobs, his voice threatening to break. "Really b... bad things and I didn't mean to."

As Billy peers up at his sister now, he can feel himself slipping again. He tries so hard to hold onto that sliver of himself, drifting away into the dark. His hands wring together as he pleads, his nails raking into his skin to stop himself - to stop Him - from winning.

His sanity was slipping and everything in him was screaming for him to do violent, inhumane things to the girl before him but he fought it. Billy knew he didn't have much time, and it was getting harder to think. And Billy spat the words from his tongue before he considers the repercussions from the shadow.

"He made me do it,"

Max was certain she knew the answer now. She knew it even as she stood in the living room facing her brother just twenty-four hours ago. But she had let herself believe the tempting lie over the bitter truth that the Shadow Monster had not gotten Billy. But she knew she had to. And so she asked.

"Who made you do it?"

Fear flashed in his eyes as he wept. He looked as something was trying to stop him, and Max knew very well something was, but he managed the words anyway; unknown to all, his final warning. The words that confirmed all their darkest fears and chilled their bones.

"I don't know, it was like a shadow. A giant shadow,"

Y/n's heart leaps into her throat, and her brows knit together in a curious frown when she sees El and Will meet eyes in matching grave expressions. They share a knowing look and nod, and silently they form a wall, herding Y/n behind them. It was likely they had made a prior agreement, she realizes, but her worries still remained on her other best friend inches from the glass.

"Please, Max," Billy weeps.

"What did he make you do?" Max asks through a wavering voice.

"It's not my fault," He cries suddenly, sinking into the sauna bench. "okay, Max?! Please! Please!"

At the sound of his broken cries, Max's eyes squeeze shut, and hot tears slide down her cheeks as she faces the small window. Her heart is torn, but she tries to remain strong.

"Please, believe me, Max! I tried to stop him, okay? I did."

He's trying even now, but the darkness is closing in. Her tearful face is blurring from his vision and he's losing the grip on his body without realizing it. He can already feel the shadow breaking free from his hold when his arm creeps across the tile floor without his permission.

"Please, believe me, Max. Please believe me,"

Swallowing the lump in her throat, she reaches out to Billy; her hand on the glass and speaks through her breaking voice.

"Billy, it's gonna be okay,"

The darkness was spreading to his vision, closing in on his sister and he knew he had only moments. They had only moments. There was no telling when the shadow would let him resurface. As Billy disappeared, he spoke what little warning he could before the shadow stole his voice.

"Max please..." -get away, his mind screams. But the words didn't come. Go away. Get out while you can.

She hadn't heard him. It was too late. The hand that lied hidden beneath the sauna bench, had already found a weapon.

"It's gonna be okay, we want to help you," Max swears through stinging tears.

His fingers curl around the broken and jagged tile.

"We want to help you. You just have to talk to us, okay? You have to talk us."

All too well indeed. He felt it even now.

Will's eyes had never left the sauna door, drilling holes through the glass even when the man had collapsed to the ground. Billy's haunted cries had reached Will in a way it never could the others. He knew the feeling all too well.

An unnatural chill zapped the air despite the muggy atmosphere and his whole body seized up. His hair stood on end and the skin over his body tightened, goosebumps breaking out out all over his skin.

He's activated.

-"What?"

Will has little time to look at Mike and Y/n and realize he had uttered the words aloud before looking back to Max.

"Max, get away from the door," he cautions.

Taken by surprise at his sudden request, Max hesitates. "What?"

"GET AWAY FROM FROM THE DOOR! NOW!"

Max had barely heeded Will's warning when the glass burst inches from her face as Billy hurled his arm through the window. El jumped back, sweeping both her arms in an effort to protect her friends. And with miraculous timing, Max had dove to the left just in time to escape the confetti of glass shards but her arm had not been so lucky.

While he had dropped his tile shard his hand had caught her bandaged forearm in his iron grasp and yanked. She yelped in pain, using the traction of her shoes against the linoleum to keep herself away.

"LET ME OUT, YOU BITCH!" He howls, tugging her arm as she attempts to pry and claw her way free. "I'LL FUCKING GUT YOU!"

"NO!" Came the sudden angered cry of Y/n Henderson as she forcibly broke free from the wall El and Will had created. She pushed their shoulders aside and sprinted forward, throwing her hand out before her. "LET HER GO!"

A powerful blasts burst forth from her palm and Billy cried out, yanking his hand back. He withered for only a moment, a loud hissing breath sucked in from between his clenched teeth as he visibly shook in anger. His hair was still dripping and it hung like a dark curtain over his eyes, but she could see it - they all could. The whites of his eyes were harder and harder to see as he looked upon his festering arm.

Max had scrambled away from the wall, back into the safety of El and Y/n's protection but Y/n didn't flinch.

He was pissed, but so was she.

In an instant, he throws his head up to look at her, his drenched curls landing on top of his head and draping over his seething face. His darkened eyes locked on her, his gritted teeth clenched so hard his entire body shook with fury. His expression finally matched his eyes from the previous night and confirmed to Y/n it had been the Mind Flayer to have spoken to her at Heather's. Never Billy.

What followed next, had unfolded all at once.

His screams return and he bangs his fist against the door once before yanking out the lead pipe and chucking it at Y/n.

She ducks just in time, and El swipes it out of the way, sending it flying into the wall with the flick of her head before it could hurt any of the others. And Lucas releases the pull on his wrist rocket he had trained on the man since he scrambled to load it when the glass first broke.

With an audible snap, the ammo was released and sent flying into its target; crashing into Billy's forehead.

A second time he was sent tumbling to the sauna floor, disappearing from their view with an even louder thump.

"Y/n, come on!" Lucas cried.

She wasted no time, scurrying back to the safety of her friends who engulfed her into their surrounding figures. Their heads all snap towards the ceilings when the hum of the lights grow stronger and everything begins to flicker.

Billy's insides churn with a disgruntled choke, his mouth spitting out fluids as he comes to. With a groan, his body spits and writhes on the floor. The icy storm in his veins spreading. And festering.

Joined shoulder to shoulder, the huddled party backed up in one circle. Each of them faced away from one another, looking around worriedly as the rows of florescent lights flicker violently above them. They all close in on Y/n in a protective stance.

Billy's body twisted and thrashed on the tile floor as he attempted to heave himself up to his feet. The grip of the Mind Flayer had broken free from the barriers of his mind and was coursing all throughout his body, the dark mass staining the very blood in his veins and poisoning his system. Dark lesions broke out all over his back and arms, and black veins rippled out under his skin, all across his body as he clutched the wall. Throwing back his head, Billy released an inhuman, agonized wail before charging for the door.

A second time they all jumped, and a second time El's arms swept out to protect her friends - finally including her Max. Their horror-stricken eyes were fixed on the door as Will inched closer to Y/n, and Max spoke through a fearful waver.

"He can't get out, can he?" She frets as he barrels into the door a second time, the chains testing the pipe anchored to the wall.

Fear gripped his heart and Lucas shook his head, voice filled with doubt in his own words. "No way. No. Way,"

"Y/n, get back," El orders in a flat voice, her tilted head unblinking on the door. "Go with Will."

Y/n gawked over El's shoulder, frantically looking between the door, her best friend, and a pleading Will who grabbed for her hand.

"What? No! No, bullshit! We agreed!"

"Y/n, come on," Will urged, tugging a little harder on her hand.

It grew hot under his touch and she ripped it from his grasp. "No. I need to do this," Y/n cried, her head whipping back and forth between her boyfriend and the fraying thread that was the bowing sauna pipe; the last defense holding back the Mind Flayer's newest host.

The door stopped moving and one split, heart-stopping moment a thunderous cry barreled out deep from within Billy's chest.

The door was thrown open, the pipe bursting from the wall and expelling puffs of steam as Billy tumbled through the open door. The Party jumped back in shrieks, El on the front lines pushing everyone behind her, even still.

With a lumbering breath, the fluorescents still flickering madly above them, Billy rose to his feet to meet eye to eye with the wrong girl. With a fear-inducing glare and an overpowering sense of protectiveness, El had forcibly barricaded herself in between the Mind Flayer and her best friend.

He curled back his teeth, a growl growing in the back of his throat. He was ready to wring her neck but she simply rose a single hand in the air, and the nearest barbell rose with it. In the blink of an eye, Billy was pinned against the brick wall by his neck, gasping for breath.

Everyone watched on in a mixture of shock and awe as El threw another arm up, and the weights sunk deeper into the brick, crumbling them near his head. She was panting for breath, nose dripping with blood but she was determined.

And she wasn't the only one.

"Y/n-!"

But she ignored the Party's cries, as well as the pleas in her gut screaming for her to turn tail and run. But she couldn't stand by and do nothing as El faced it all alone - nor could she sit still when she saw the very monster she had faced the prior year, wearing the very face that plagued her dreams in her last sleep. Y/n Henderson didn't walk away. She couldn't.

Y/n stormed to El's side, throwing her arms up in sync with two large and billowing waves of heat that filled the entire room. Billy howled as the heat consumed him completely, the black veins festering underneath his skin. Across the sauna, Mike and Will watch on in a mixture of awe and worry as El and Y/n stand side by side, their arms extended as they fight with great strain and their guttural cries begin to blend.

Tears pricked Will's eyes as he watched the scene unfold, frightened not only for Y/n's life but El's. He truly feared what the Mind Flayer might be capable of in someone like Billy Hargrove. And already he had every right to be.

What came next stole the breath right out of his chest.

With a husky grunt and a terrifying spur of adrenaline, Billy heaved and broke El's telepathic hold, sending the barbell flying for their heads. With matching screams, they throw themselves to the floor, avoiding the otherwise inevitable blunt force trauma by a hair's width. He stormed to their bodies piled together on the floor. Learning his lesson and counting every precious second, Billy grabs a fist full of El's hair and drags her to her feet and off of Y/n's body. She yelps out in pain, clawing to get free but he had already thrown her into the wall she had just pinned him to. Her head collided with the brick and she sunk to the floor, fighting to keep her eyes open and vision clear but she was losing her battle.

Mike and the others cried out to her, unable to reach her but her blurring vision was fixed on the sight of Billy closing in on Y/n's body. She threw her arms up with a vengeful grunt, her skin beginning to glow. The ground begins to shake and all their hopes rise with Y/n as pulls herself onto one wobbly knee. The spidery veins adorned her eyes, lips, and ears, heat pulsing from her palms as her light began to illuminate the weight room.

And like a candle's flame, it was extinguished under Billy's hand.

Her grunts died in her throat when his hand encircled her throat, cutting off all her air. What strength he possessed as Billy Hargrove had doubled with the Mind Flayer and lifted the young girl above his head with ease.

Y/n tried crying for help but her voice was lodged in her throat with the rest of her breath, leaving her no choice but to claw at Billy's arms as she fought for air and freedom. Her legs were finally listening to her brain's signals, kicking and squirming as she tried to reach him or even the ground but they never did, no matter how close she got. Just as she had foreseen.

"Y/N!" The others cried.

She gasped and choked for breath, any whisp of air she could possibly manage between his fingers as she tried to conjure a fight, but she was losing concentration. She was losing air.

All she saw beside the white spots swallowing her vision were the seething eyes of the Mind Flayer peering up at her. And as he watched the life drain from her eyes, he hissed to the one he had been waiting in agony for all these months his final greeting.

"You."

Y/n could barely hear him over the cries of her frantic friends, nor could she barely register the repetitive snap of Lucas's wrist rocket as he sent rocks flying into Billy. But this time, Billy resisted. Out of spite, or with the aid of the Mind Flayer's mutation, none of them knew but with El out cold on the floor and unreachable without crossing through Billy, little options were left.

And Lucas was already running low.

Y/n's hands latched onto Billy's wrist, at first, seemingly trying to pry herself away as she sucked in as much air as she could capture. And as her bulging eyes began to flutter, she manages to speak through choking, gasping breaths.

"Fuck... you."

Latched hands had locked on and began to glow and Billy's eyes fell to her grip. The skin beneath her palms began to sizzle and a agonized cry grew deep within Billy at her searing touch. And yet still he held, but the same could not be said for Y/n. Like El, she was fighting to remain conscious.

And Lucas had run out of ammo.

Lucas and Will seemed to share the same thought as everything had unfolded within an instant. And with an angered cry, Will charged forward just as Lucas chucked his metal wrist rocket at Billy's head.

His grip still iron clad over Y/n's throat, Billy's head whipped to the party as fast as his other hand stopped in front of his face, catching the wrist rocket mid-air. And just in time for Will to reach him. Billy reared his arm back and smacked the butt end of the wrist rocket into the boy's head, knocking him to the ground without ever blinking.

"Will!"

Those that remained stood back, watching terror-stricken as Y/n begins to grow limp, her eyes rolling back in her head.

Tears prick Mike's eyes as the sights surrounding him become too much; one of his best friends dying before his eyes, and the two people he had probably loved most in the world, fading on the floor. And he snaps into action.

He looks around wildly, thanking whatever force was out there that the burst pipe from the sauna was near his feet. He picked it up in an instant, charging forward with a sudden surge of adrenaline, and crashed it into Billy's skull.

Y/n dropped to the floor, gasping for breath as she rolled away from Billy's fallen body. Mike towered over the man as Y/n came to, a vengeful look in his eyes as he swung the pipe back above his head.

"GO TO HELL YOU PIECE OF SHIT!"

With all the force he could possibly muster, Mike threw the pipe down at Billy's back but it had stopped inches from his face. In the blink of an eye, Billy had turned, catching it in his single fist with as much ease as the wrist rocket.

Mike gasped in horror as Billy seethes up at him, much too frightened to even flicker to the sight of Y/n wobbling up onto her hands and knees and risk giving her away. She was coughing on every wheezing breath, her lungs and throat burning but she still felt a spark big enough to hold onto.

Will had just started to come to, the sideways vision of the weight room floor showing to him two things: Billy chucking the pipe against the wall with an earsplitting clang and Y/n's heaving chest swallowing desperate, gulping breaths, the blood steadily draining from her face.

He tried to move to her, but his limbs were heavy. All he managed to do was hoist himself up onto his arms as tears fell from his eyes, slowly pulling himself along as the world began to steady. But he never reaches her in time. Billy had begun to rise, and yet the beginnings of a smug smile curled Will's lips as his eyes trailed her across the room.

Anger battled impatience within the Mind Flayer at the unrelenting children, but killing this one - the Wheeler boy - would be easy. At least, it would have been had it not been for the young girl emerging with the two hot blasts of searing heat raining down upon his exposed chest as Y/n unleashed her fury upon him.

A primal scream grew from deep within her belly, ripping up her throat as she circled back around to face him, arms outstretched before her in two taut claws. What little space he had created from himself and the weight room floor had vanished as the blasts intensified with her screams.

The fluorescent lights about their heads were flashing violently now, enunciating the matching veins each opponent bore. The buzzing of the lights was nearly as loud as the rumble of the shaking room and the cracking of the tile that sounded eerily like thunder. The two blurring bursts of energy were pouring from her palms and pinning Billy into the tile so hard the tile floor cracked beneath him.

His screams blended with hers, the light pouring from her skin illuminating his agonized face and she pushed harder. her arms dug closer to his chest and the deep and inhuman voice returned; the voice of the Mind Flayer cried out in pain.

Y/n felt the sudden force of Billy's untouched leg sweep under her own, knocking her off her feet. The Mind Flayer coughed and hacked once more, and threw himself over her as she lied on her back. His hands were around her throat again, yanking her up before slamming her back into the ground.

With the strobing, flickering lights disorienting their already obscured vision the others could barely make out Billy hunched over something on the floor. His haunched, vein painted back nearly in ribbons as blood drizzled down his back like rain on a window. It didn't take them long to put together the pieces, Y/n's name on their weeping tongues as Billy repeatedly threw her back into the tile until she steadily lost consciousness. Finally, after one last gust of power, he thrust her into the tile and releasing her throat. But only to raise one darkening, blistering fist into the air, ready to strike...

Horrified screams tore from their throats, each of them prepared to tackle Billy. Will had finally stumbled to his feet for the first time without falling, ready to do just that but something had stopped him.

Billy froze, growing horrified as he himself began to choke.

A body hidden away in the shadows that had finally fought her way back into consciousness for the sake of her loved ones

There she was in all her glory.

El, rising to her wobbling knees; the sound of Y/n's broken cries and gasping pleas for help that broke through her subconscious mind had been the final push of adrenaline she needed.

Like Y/n, El's grew from deep within as she pulled herself to her feet, arms outstretched. Steadily, Billy's body was pulled off of Y/n's until even his toes had left the ground. He was pulled far away from the young girl's body as El circled him, once again placing herself in between the Mind Flayer and the girl she couldn't lose.

Will took the advantage El had bought for them and closed the remaining gap, collapsing at Y/n's side. He breathed a sigh at unimaginable relief when he saw her chest moving with labored breaths. She was alive. Hoisting Y/n's bloodied head into his folded legs, he returned his worried sights to El just in time to see her give a great roar, hurling her clawed hands to the side and watching as Billy was thrown through the brick wall in an explosion of dust.

El's knees buckled beneath her, and she collapsed to the ground in exhaustion beside Y/n's limp body. Mike rushed to her side, steadying her arms and looking on with pooling eyes at his waking friend.

Y/n lays in Will's arms on the grounds of the cracked and broken sauna floor, her bloodshot eyes popping out of her skull as she coughs and chokes on what air she hopes to regain. Strenuous marks circle her throat from where she was previously held captive, and specks of blood drip from the back of her skull onto Will's leg. The others begin to crowd around in worry and fear as they jump in to help.

Will cradles her head softly, brushing away the stray hairs from her face as he weeps, desperately wanting to ease her pain though he does not know how. He's doomed to watch her lay suffering, her wails of anguish are strained and hoarse from the Mind Flayer's grip. A similar, deathly grip squeezed the hearts of the rest as they watched her suffer.

With flooded eyes, Will leans down and plants a shaky kiss on her forehead before resting his own against it. Her left hand comes to wrap around his wrist as it still holds her head in place. He breaks away to examine her once more, the puffiness of her swollen cheeks had already subsided a great deal but it was clear she was still in pain. Trembling, she looks out to each of them, her eyes watery and thankful. Reaching out her other hand, it finds El's, and they both let out a sob knowing the other was okay. Each sniffle tore right through his heart, and as if asking for help he looks up at his friends hoping for answers.

But they all stare at her, glassy-eyed and frozen, and that's when it dawns on them; Billy. Each of them, Will included, look frantically to the broken brick wall through which he was thrown. Everyone apart from the young couple on the ground rushed to see the young man, singed and bleeding making his escape into the trees far across the field and into the squalling storm.

Will's gaze is torn back to his lap when he feels Y/n begin to rise. Eagerly, and without hesitation, he helps Y/n to sit up. Tracks of thick tears stream down her face, cleaning her bloodied and dirtied cheeks in their path. His hand finds a home on her back, reflexively trying to run soothing circles into her muscles but she immediately whimpers, flinching. Her back had taken most of the damage, which he realized was preferable to her skull. But still, a plethora of apologies spilled from his lips, his eyes are filled with nothing but worry and heartbreak.

Y/n takes a moment to steady herself, the blood rushing to her head combined with the powerful forces inside her still hard at work as they desperately try to repair the gash in her head. She tries to smile, silently telling him it was okay, but it hardly showed. But Will still knew.

As she attempts to stand - one arm hooked around his shoulder, the other over Lucas's - the energy drains from her quicker than anything she had felt in a long while and when she blinks she realises she is resting her head on Will's shoulder.

Her sobs are weak and drawn out in her taxed state, yet they still demand to be heard even buried in Will's chest. The pain of seeing her this way makes him feel as if he has been torn in two, and yet worse, he knows it's dwarfed in comparison to whatever she is enduring. All he can do is hold her close, and hold her gently, assuring her safety.

Will wishes more than anything to take her pain away, and how cruel of fate to deprive him of this.

With the aid of Will and Lucas, Y/n hobbled to the gaping hole in the brick where Billy had disappeared. Her shoulders rose and fell as she attempted even know to even her breathing, her haunted glare stretching out across the dark and stormy night where the Mind Flayer had made his second escape.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

"The girl, was it her?"

Heather's voice cuts through the silence is Brimborne as she sat opposite Billy.

"Yes," he answers with a hiss, eyes darting to the handprints seared into his skin. "Yes it was her, and she knows now. She knows about me. They both do."

Heather's hand and the cool wet handkerchief it holds reaches for his blistered wrists but finds her own entrapped in an instant but neither of them blink.

"She could have killed me." He asserted.

"Yes," she says. "But not us."

She looks out onto the darkened sea of the warehouse, where the very rot of the Mind Flayer had seeded and spread and multiplied. And the numbers were still climbing. Waiting, out in the shadows for their noble sacrifice to the monster of flesh bone known as the Mind Flayer.

Or more specifically, the Mind Flayer's army.

"Not us."

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

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husheduphistory · 4 years ago

Text

Little Green Men: The Alien Encounter of Kelly Kentucky

On the night of August 21st 1955 Sheriff Russell Greenwell was working in the police department for the tiny town of Hopkinsville, Kentucky when the night took a sharp turn into bizarre territory. Multiple adults and children stormed into the building highly distressed and saying they needed Greenwell’s help. One of the adults, Billy Ray Taylor, had a racing pulse twice the normal resting rate and the children were completely hysterical. All of them were known in town as very level-headed people. There was no trace of alcohol on anyone and they were a family who took care of themselves, preferring to involve their shotguns rather than the police. What they told Greenwell was that they had spent the last several hours defending their home from attackers, but these attackers were not of this world.

The Sutton Farm was located in nearby Kelly, Kentucky and was the home of Glennie Lankford, her young children Lonnie, Charlton, and Mary, her older sons Elmer "Lucky" Sutton and John Charley "J.C." Sutton, Lucky’s wife Vera, J.C.’s wife Arlene, and Arlene’s brother. Lucky Sutton was home with his family after his last stint with a traveling carnival and his friends Billy Ray Taylor and his wife took the opportunity to stop in and visit everyone. It was a hot Sunday night and at approximately 7pm Billy Ray went to get some water from the well in the backyard when he saw something he could not explain. When he returned to the house he told everyone that he just witnessed a large silver object smoothly traveling through the sky before it went over the house and dropped silently to the ground somewhere in the distance. He was laughed at and the night continued on.

Location of Kelly, Kentucky. Image via wikipedia.org.

The calm did not last long. One hour after Billy Ray’s sighting the Sutton’s dog began to bark incessantly at the back door. When Lucky and Billy Ray went to go see what was going on in the yard they found themselves staring at a glowing light hovering around a three and a half foot tall creature that shimmered like metal with an “oversized head…almost perfectly round, [its] arms extended almost to the ground, [its] hands had talons…and [its oversized] eyes glowed with a yellowish light.”

Frantic and terrified, Billy Ray and Lucky grabbed their shotguns and prepared to fire on the creatures with Glennie and the children watching in bewilderment. Glennie had lived on the property for decades without incident but the commotion coming from the two men concerned her and she sent her younger children to bed before they could get too upset over the outlandish claims coming from Billy Ray and Lucky. Was it a prank? She pressed the two for an explanation but there wasn’t time for any answers. A small glowing figure began to approach the house and for the first time that night shots rang out. The creature raised its arms and did a “flip” before disappearing into the darkness. It was only the beginning of their night.

According to the Sutton family and friends, over the next few hours they found themselves under attack from the little creatures that they could not explain. While hiding inside the home one pressed its face against a window and again flipped out of sight totally unfazed when bullets took out the screen. In a later interview Glennie recalled hiding in a hallway with Billy Ray when they saw one of the beings approaching the back door. She was overcome with shock and fell backwards before her sons carried her into a bedroom. She later stated that “It looked like a five-gallon gasoline can with a head on top and small legs. It was a shimmering bright metal like on my refrigerator.” At one point during the night Billy Ray stepped outside onto a porch where his head was covered by a small overhanging roof. By now the entire family was on alert and they were horrified to see what they described as a claw-like hand reaching down from the roof to grab Billy Ray’s hair from above. The screams cut through the night and Billy Ray was pulled back inside while Lucky ran out and began shooting toward the roof. More than one person reported seeing another small glowing creature jump down and charge into the woods.

Newspaper article showing the roof where one of the creatures reached for Billy Ray Taylor. Image via https://www.kentuckynewera.com/

For several hours the entire group remained huddled in the house listening to something scratching on the roof and waiting for the unimaginable. Finally, at approximately 11pm they all ran outside, leapt into their cars, and raced to the Hopkinsville police department.

As outlandish as their story sounded, Sheriff Greenwell could not ignore what he was hearing and he decided to go investigate. But, he was not going alone. When the team arrived back at the Sutton farm it included Greenwell, the state police, members of the military police from nearby Fort Campbell, and a photographer from the Kentucky New Era. While searching the premises they found casings from Billy Ray and Lucky’s guns but absolutely no other evidence to suggest anything had happened on the farm that night. Each family member was interviewed individually but all the stories were consistent. With nothing to go on they finally left the site with the family hesitantly returning inside the house. They were not inside long. Before dawn they were all back in their cars, fleeing the house after the creatures came back, appearing in Glennie’s bedroom window and clawing at the screen.

Newspaper article from the Nevada State Journal. Image via Skeptic.com.

When the Suttons returned to their farmhouse they arrived to a chaotic scene. The news of their encounter was spread all over the nation by radio hosts telling their stories and newspapers printing their words alongside shocking illustrations of the “little men” that came out of the sky that night. Curiosity seekers flocked to the farmhouse to investigate the scene for themselves and, in some cases, to take souvenirs. Unfortunately, some also arrived armed with accusations, claiming the family completely fabricated the entire encounter for publicity. The Suttons denied the claims but they did not help their case when they took down their “No Trespassing” signs and replaced them with a price list for admission to the property, information, and photographs. The adult members of the family were again interviewed separately by local radio personality and professional sketch artist Andrew "Bud" Ledwith and every account was the same. They all swore that they were attacked by creatures that stood just under three feet tall, glowed a shimmering metallic green, floated above the ground, and had pointed ears and claws. Tired of being harassed and spied on the family quickly stopped speaking to the media, left the property, and attempted to move on with their lives. Some reports state that after living in the country her entire life Glennie moved into an apartment building to be surrounded by people, she no longer felt safe in isolation.

Illustration of the creatures as described by Billy Ray Taylor. Image via history.com.

Illustration of the creatures as described by Lucky Sutton. Image via history.com.

With no concrete answers as to what haunted the Sutton family and their friends that night the floor was open for theories to fly. Despite Glennie and her sons insisting alcohol was not allowed in the house many said the entire incident was nothing more than a drunken hallucination. Others believed these little silver men were actually a pack of great horned owls which were known to act aggressively toward people. Some even claimed the creatures were monkeys that Lucky and Billy Ray brought home with them from their stint in the carnival.

Great horned owl at night. Image via Youtube.com.

In 1956 ufologist Isabel Davis began an investigation into what became known as the “Kelly–Hopkinsville Encounter”, an investigation that would result in a nearly 200 page report for the Center for UFO Studies. It was far from alone, as the years moved on many other ufologists became fascinated with the event and their varied explanation and opinions did little to pinpoint what happened that August night. The Air Force UFO-investigation program Project Blue Book was aware of the case but no documentation indicates that they officially pursued it. Project Blue Book’s civil investigator (and founder of the Center for UFO Studies) Dr. J. Allen Hynek called the ordeal "preposterous" and offensive to "common sense.” Ufologist Jerome Clark writes about the possible logical explanations, but also admits there was no evidence of a hoax. Some adopted the tale as solid truth, others became staunch supporters of the owl theory, but with every theory and re-visitation the Kelly–Hopkinsville encounter grew in notoriety. With newspapers focusing on the green metallic glow the world was given a term still familiar today, “little green men.”

In 2005 a commemorative event was held to celebrate the fiftieth anniversary of the Kelly-Hopkinsville Encounter and there was a very special guest in attendance. Geraldine Stith, the granddaughter of Glennie Lankford and daughter of Lucky Sutton was there to answer the questions and dispel the rumors. She stated “I thought, I heard it from the horse's mouth, if people want to hear the story, let's get it right.” In 2010 when the town of Kelly was looking for fundraising opportunities they focused on the alleged alien encounter and created an annual event, the Little Green Men Days Festival that still takes place every August. Stith is a guest every year, telling the tale of her family’s terrifying night of the unknown and listening to stories from others. Despite the festive atmosphere structured around the encounter, Stith does not want what her family endured to be lost stating “My family went through something, whether it be paranormal or extraterrestrial, that changed their lives forever. I just want people to realize the terror they went through that night.”

A scene from Little Green Men Days Festival. Image via wkms.org.

Despite countless studies, theories, books, interviews, and experiences, the answer to what haunted the Sutton family and friends that night in August has never been found.

********************

Sources:

“How the 'Little Green Men' Phenomenon Began on a Kentucky Farm” https://www.history.com/news/little-green-men-origins-aliens-hopkinsville-kelly

“The Eerie Story Behind the Small Town Everyone Is Flocking to for the Eclipse This Summer“ https://www.countryliving.com/life/a44064/eclipseville-hopkinsville-ky-history/

“Steven Spielberg, Some Green Men, and Hopkinsville“ https://kyforky.com/blogs/journal/steven-spielberg-some-green-men-and-hopkinsville

“Tales from the path of totality: 62 years ago today, they say, ‘little green men’ invaded this Kentucky farm town” https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/morning-mix/wp/2017/08/21/tales-from-the-path-of-totality-62-years-ago-today-they-say-little-green-men-invaded-this-kentucky-farm-town/

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one-boring-person · 4 years ago

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Ok ok last one.

Poncho x medic reader who helps the team along but ends up getting herself hurt instead of him. And he realizes just how much she means to him

I hope you like this!😊💛

You Saved My Ass.

Poncho x reader

Warnings: death, injury, blood, swearing, spoilers

Masterlist

Poncho hates this more than anything he's ever had to do, this waiting with bated breath in amongst the shrubbery, the perpetually terrified air hanging around the usually fearless group souring his resolve. It is unnatural to him, to them all, the now decreased team unused to feeling entirely helpless, though they all know there is no way of changing this to their advantage at all, the situation being completely unforeseeable, even with hindsight. Cowering in the bushes just isn't their thing, it never has been, and, if they get through this, it never will be again. But he knows now that it is necessary; after all, he doesn't want to end up like Blain or Hawkins. At the reminder, he subtly crosses himself again, still torn over the sights of Blain's mangled body, and the remaining pile of gore from Hawkins.

Beside him, (Y/n) adjusts herself, clutching at her bag of supplies, the medic unarmed for ease of movement, though Poncho feels even worse about this than he does about hiding in the trees, fearing for his life. She has good aim, and she can defend herself, so without the weapon she is vulnerable, an asset he'd rather not lose, not now, not ever. The boys all teased him for having a soft spot for her, but he'd always shaken them off, chalking it up to the fact that his and her personalities seemed to match particularly well. Unfortunately, even after telling himself this for hours on end, he'd found himself clenching his jaw as he watched her patch Blain's arm up, back at the guerrilla settlement, somehow becoming irritable as he eyed her careful movements and teasing conversation with the muscular man. Of course, she'd given the others a once-over, including him, but something about that particular interaction had put him on edge. He knew Dutch had noticed, but the major had been too irritated himself to say anything, though this was more aimed at Dillon rather than (Y/n).

"What's he doing?!" The medic suddenly hisses, keeping her voice low as she stares out at the clearing where the trap has been set up.

"Huh?" Poncho blurts out quickly, before realising what she means.

Dutch has stepped out of cover and into full view, heavy gun held firmly in hand, muscles bulging as he tenses them, clearly nervous despite his bold move. The rest of the group fall silent, eyes wide as they watch their leader walk into sight, the trap ready to spring beneath his feet. The jungle is quiet, unnaturally so, every animal within the near radius having fled from this sophisticated hunter, just as the group are trying to do. Every sound Dutch makes feels amplified: the crack of branches underfoot, the rustle of leaves with each step, any normally insignificant noise seemingly deafening in the tense atmosphere.

His foot catches on a trip wire, the major pausing to make sure it doesn't spring the trap on him, carefully moving his boot off of the tense cord. Taking another step, the muscular man moves further into the clearing, before all hell breaks loose.

There is a blur of movement behind Dutch, the forest seemingly coming alive as a distorted shimmer lunges at him, clicking filling the air as whatever it is tries to take out its next prey. Thankfully, it trips the wire, the net underneath it springing up towards the canopy, closing in on itself around whatever it had caught, an outraged cry of some sorts emitting from the invisible quarry as it writhes in its temporary hold. Leaves cascade down into the clearing as the group rushes to the aid of their leader, guns raised, ready to fire.

A familiar streak of blinding blue light dashes any hope of catching it whilst it's compromised, the energy shearing through the netting around its occupant, falling away completely. Another blast severs the cord holding the counterweight in place, the heavy log swinging down into the clearing, scattering the gathered group as they move to avoid it. Poncho, however, is too late to realize the danger of the situation, and is caught with his back turned, the weight picking up speed as it nears him.

All of a sudden, he hears a cry of his name and he is shoved to the side, his body tumbling to the floor even as another goes flying a few feet away from him, landing much heavier than he does. Confused, he ignores the shouting and gunfire that has broken out, scrambling to get over to the fallen body, recognising the figure lying, motionless, on the floor, his heart dropping in his chest. Eyes wide, he drops to the ground beside her and rolls her onto her back, taking in the limp movement of her body, as well as its sheer lack of muscular strength. (Y/n)'s chest is jerking uncontrollably, the medic struggling to breathe properly as her face contorts in agony, each breath rattling in her throat, uselessly. The log must've smashed into her torso, most likely breaking her ribs and bruising her sternum and collarbones, leaving her in unimaginable pain.

"Shit, (Y/n), this is my fault...I've got to get you out of here. God, I'm so sorry, stay with me! Please stay with me!" Poncho pleads with her, awkwardly reaching down to scoop her up, wincing as she groans out. Internally, he curses himself for letting this happen, his own stupidity having gotten her here.

Panic floods him as her arms hang limply at her sides, head lolling backwards, her conscience clearly fighting to stay awake.

"You've gotta stay awake, (Y/n). Keep fighting, it'll be ok soon. Come on, (Y/n), pull through for me!" He rambles to her, trying not to jostle her too much as he moves, only now realising that Dutch is yelling after Mac, who has raced off into the jungle.

Billy and Anna wait at the edge of the treeline, watching as Dillon goes to follow Mac, Dutch coming over to help Poncho, who gestures to his gun, meaning for the major to take it. Doing so, the two of them follow after Billy and Anna, heading into the sweltering jungle, aware of the fact that they will most likely never see their comrades again. Glancing down at the medic in his arms, Poncho tightens his grip, hoping to hell she'll make it; he doesn't know what he'll do without her, and it's only now dawned on him that she means a whole lot more to him than he once thought.

He'd been wrong. Poncho knew that now. Waiting in the jungle for the predator to find them had been bad, it'd been stressful and he'd been terrified, but it couldn't compare to what he endured now. Sitting there, between the beds of the only two other survivors, slouched in his chair from exhaustion as he waited for them to wake up, he decided that this was worse. In the jungle, he'd stood a chance, however small it was, of ensuring the survival of his friends, but now? Now he had no way of making sure they'd pull through. No, that was in the hands of the bustling doctors and nurses going in and out of their private ward.

Somehow, Phillips had secured a room in the nearest hospital strictly for the survivors of this disastrous mission, sending all four of them there as soon as he had them back in safety. Both Anna and Poncho had healed quickly, and now spent their days waiting for the other two to wake up, both members of the group having entered some form of coma in the twenty four hours after their arrival, being drugged up to the eyes and all to hold off the pain and let them rest. Dutch had been in and out, his slurred ramblings unintelligible yet disturbingly sudden and vivid as he drifted in and out of conscience, but (Y/n) had remained still, as if in a death sleep, never stirring, barely even breathing.

The log had done serious damage to her ribcage and spine, nearly leaving her paralyzed from the simple impact, multiple of her ribs now broken and close to puncturing her lungs. Deep purple bruising mottled the skin disappearing below the collar of her hospital robe, the colour angry and harsh against her natural skin tone, leaving Poncho wondering just how bad it was lower down. Just looking over her now, tired as he is, he knows that she is lucky she survived the blow: had she instantly moved to get up again, the cracked ribs would've driven straight into her lungs, killing her from the inside.

Shaking his head, Poncho climbs to his feet and goes to stand beside her bed, observing her face carefully, mentally kicking himself for not realising sooner how much she actually means to him. How could he have ignored it? She'd always been there for him, dressing his wounds first whenever he got them, unless there were more serious ones on someone else, messing around with him to get him to lighten up, joking with him, being there for him when he needed her the most. In the jungle he'd asked himself what he'd do without her, and he still hasn't found an answer.

Just as he goes to sit down again, (Y/n) shifts, her head twitching a little. Shocked, he stays where he is and watches her again, waiting for another movement, anything to prove she's healing.

He almost can't believe it when her eyelids flutter, her face wrinkling as she goes to open her eyes, blinking to fight off the onslaught of unnatural light blaring down at her. Inhaling sharply, Poncho holds his breath, watching as she clears her vision, taking in her surroundings, brief confusion flicking across her expression before everything comes back to her. Instantly, a look of grief and pain etch themselves into the lines of her face, but she is quick to notice Poncho lingering by her. Her jaw immediately starts working at forming words, but he swiftly puts a finger on her lips, smiling down at her in relief.

"You're awake! Oh my god, you're actually awake!" Is all he can say, elation filling him as he takes in the medic lying on the bed.

A timid half-smile works its way onto her face and she manages a nod, before she winces in pain, the movement sending twinges down her sore spine.

"Take it easy there, you took a heavy-ass log to the chest, it might take a while to heal up properly." He grins at her, lifting an eyebrow at her when she goes to nod again.

For a moment, the two stay in silence, staring at each other, relieved to see the other alive after their ordeal in the jungle, Poncho's hand eventually finding her's. Carefully, he joins them, intertwining their fingers as he squeezes it for reassurance, beaming when she manages to return the gesture, her fingers tightening around his own almost minutely.

"I wish I could tell you exactly how happy I am that you're awake, (Y/n), I've never been so relieved in my life. If you hadn't have woken up, I really don't know what I would've done." Poncho looks down as he says the rest, blushing slightly, "You mean the world to me, and I should've realised it sooner, hell, I'm kicking myself for not realising before you saved my ass, but now I know that I've come to care for you in a way that I haven't cared for anyone ever. I can't lose you."

Her eyes are wide as she looks up at him, her mouth opening as she goes to form words.

"Me...too…" She manages out, voice hoarse but recognisable, her following smile wide and happy.

Happiness floods him as he hears this, the man eager to respond, wishing he could pull her into a hug, but he is interrupted by the sound of a groan of pain from the man behind him, coherent words finally coming from the major's mouth.

Turning, Poncho gives (Y/n)'s hand one last squeeze before he goes over to the veteran, finding a pair of hard grey eyes staring at him from the bed, clearly confused, though the events of the mission are quickly coming back to him. Clenching his jaw, Poncho goes to check up on Dutch, feeling much happier now that he knows the two survivors are awake, though he is even more overjoyed to know (Y/n) shares his feelings.

Glancing back at her, he blushes as he catches her staring after him, a smile on her face.

#predator imagine #predator 1987 #predator #Poncho

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kinetic-elaboration · 3 years ago

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September 12: The Vast of Night

Just finished watching The Vast of Night. It was good but I do feel like it lost me a little at about the 2/3 mark, and so right now I’m more stuck in the ways it was frustrating.

The stuff I liked:

It was very atmospheric and had exactly the kind of vibes I was looking for: 1950s desert night. Just like it says on the tin. I also like the two main characters a lot. They could have been annoying but the actors made it work. I liked that it was a little ambiguous how well they knew each other or what their friendship quite was. They were sorta like surrogate brother/sister but they could have just as easily been, like, acquaintances in a small town where everyone knows each other who just happen to get into this weird thing on this one night.

I also really liked the depiction of the town, and how much effort was put into making it feel real: the familiarity of everyone with each other, the shots that specifically established how close/far everything was from everything else. I liked that it felt like a radio show a lot--right down to the screen going completely blank sometimes and just having voices talking.

And I enjoyed the immersion if it basically being real time and real place. Like it probably was about 90 minutes in universe, and any time anyone moves from place to place, we tend to follow them. The only jump cuts were when the action was taking place in two spots simultaneously and we were cutting between them. So it felt real and, I mean this in a good way, small. Contained.

I was basically completely on board until the point where the old woman told her story. When she talked about her son being like an alien radio I was like “...okay this isn’t what I was expecting.” Not in a good way. It felt like a whole new type of alien story was being introduced and QUITE late in the game. Now it’s not just ships talking to each other inscrutably or even vague stories about what the military might know, it’s like... alien languages and abductions and like specifics on a whole new level. There’s even a theory (a dumb theory!) about what the aliens might want!

I wish I had a way to say this succinctly, because I was rambling through it with my mom right after we finished watching but basically... the movie appears to be very self-contained and simple--not in a bad way, but in the sense of, this is a one-night-story, everything you need is going to be in these 90 minutes, it’s not an epic, it’s not a mystery, etc. And so my expectation is that it will be economical. There will be no wasted details. Everything we see and hear will be important, every clue will be picked up and explained by the end, and every string will be tied. I really ENJOY stories like that; I find them immensely satisfying, in part because they are by nature very well constructed. It all comes together in the end.

But then it didn’t really, in this case. I don’t necessarily mean that mysteries weren’t answered. I wasn’t expecting resolution in that sense. I wasn’t expecting to know everything about the aliens--in fact, I was expecting to know less than we did--but I was expecting the narrative of the movie itself to resolve. I’m not explaining myself well, I know.

For example, the biggest and most annoying example, there’s a big deal made out of the basketball game tapes being recorded over and reused, and when Faye and Everett take the tapes from the library to find Billy’s friend’s recording, they mention the possibility it was recorded over again. So one would expect this would have meaning??? And yet nothing?? So why? It’s not that the conversation was unpleasant or annoying but I was expecting an ah-ha moment from it and then didn’t get it.

The squirrel or other animal biting through the wire also came up a lot and I didn’t see the point of that. I mean it established the town, right, and that’s fun, but it seemed like it should be more meaningful than that. I thought it might pertain to like the way that stories get retold and distorted but...idk it seemed to just be local color I guess?

Then there was stuff that I thought might be actually important but it’s just that I wasn’t getting it. Like for example, it seems like it should be/might have been important that Faye has no father but a very young sister, especially given that she has the sister with her for a lot of the last part of the film, and putting it in the context of the time period, and the old woman’s story about having a child while unmarried/being a single mother herself. I thought it might be something pertaining to a theme of the dangers of being othered in a (small) community. Like, the aliens pick out people who are alone at times when everyone else gathers together (like at the game, though what the actual evidence is for this I don’t entirely know) and we get lots of references to this, as well as references to the size of the town and of course plenty of evidence about how everyone knows everyone else. There’s the reference to the Indian basketball players as well, and it’s very relevant that Billy, a voice only hear over the radio, is Black. There’s also that bit where Everett gets them away from talking to the man at the game because he’s too much of a loner and not to be spoken to.

That said, Faye doesn’t exactly seem to be ostracized. And though she talks about walking everywhere because she doesn’t have a car, and not having enough money for college, a lot of other people seem to be working too, so it’s not, like, weird of her.

So I don’t know. If the movie had been what I expected/wanted it to be, I would not have to work so hard for the theme or for the relevance of certain details. And again, the movie is so short and so self-contained and so simple in terms of its basic plot, and so focused in terms of characters, time, and place, that it really doesn’t have an excuse for extraneous details. It’s not a sweeping epic, you know? I don’t want the things I learn about these people to seem random. Why learn that Faye has a mother and sister and no father and not anything about Everett’s family? Because it didn’t chance to come up? This isn’t real life, it’s a narrative!! No excuses!

The other thing is that the movie is clearly basing itself in the tradition of the The Twilight Zone, and that show was defined by its twists. So I was FULLY expecting a twist. Something about the Cold War? Something about the nature or origin or intention of the aliens? Something about the various technological “news” Faye was reciting at the beginning? I mean I would have been happy with a basic/classic twist even tbqh.

But no... it’s just an abduction story I guess. The MOST boring of alien stories.

I would have liked if they’d gone more into the alien ship noises specifically, the intercepted conversations, the accidental (ish) conversation that comes from humans replaying the recordings...

I don’t know. I like the concept of aliens as inscrutable and probably benevolent, just like existing in little bits and pieces for us to wonder about. Unknowable. I like that much more than aliens picking people up into their giant flying saucers. Just a personal preference.

In some ways, it felt like it became a completely different movie in the last third. A lot of new ideas were introduced, like the alien language (versus ship’s sounds), the abductions, the alien trance state thing, and that’s in a movie that until then had been more about a slow, creeping dread. A movie that was never afraid to take its time. Then it starts throwing in new ideas all over the place? And dropping old ones? I almost wonder if the director was bullied into major edits or re-shoots or something, like if someone said ‘you know this is too boring, this lacks resolution, this isn’t flashy enough.’ Maybe that’s just what I want to believe. I’m basing it only on the text and not on any extra knowledge, of which I have none. It just felt weird that a movie that was so good and so controlled in the beginning started making what I think of as amateur hour mistakes later on.

All that said, I did really enjoy it! I’m glad I watched it and I would watch it again.

#the year 2021 #2021: fandom thoughts

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bowieandqueen11 · 5 years ago

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Break Things / Billy Hargrove Imagine

Request: Hii! Could I please request Billy (Stranger Things) being a huge dick to you for months since he’s come to Hawkings but then one night at a party, both drunk he admits he likes you? Please and thank you❤️

Of course love, thank you for requesting! I’ve really missed Billy

Comments are much appreciated!

You never expected to end up at Dean Brauner’s house on this Friday night, but that was Hawkins for you.

You were too busy spinning around in circles on the dancefloor with Nancy, Steve glancingly warily, as if almost afraid of the unity the two of you held from where he stood at the punch ball. The strange, gloopy, scarlet liquid bounced out of over Nancy’s solo cup, splashing down on her fingers and staining the front of her cream blouse as she swished her hips. She stumbled against you as the night began to reach its climax, giggling as her forehead hit against her shoulder and the two of you stamped on the foot of poor Jason Miller. Laughing, she wraps her arm around you, slow dancing with wilting hands before nodding off against the dip of your chest.

‘Nanc. Nanc!’

You shake her gently, eyes fluttering open before closing once again.

‘No, Nanc! The night’s not over yet!’

She hiccups slightly as she pushes up and off you.

‘I’m gonna go to the b-bathroom. Maybe...maybe sleep.’

The bass thumped in time with your heart beat as Nancy walked off, faltering with every step towards the stairs. You go to catch up with her, but stop when you see Jonathan Byers grab onto her elbow and help her start slowly away from the roarous noise of a bunch of drunk teenagers.

Over the roar of music, you could hear a distant, hazy chatter. You couldn’t make out any words, but harshness rang in your ears and wouldn’t seem to stop. The song that was playing got louder, pulling you in and wouldn’t let go. You rolled your eyes, believing Billy Hargrove would, of course, always be the main culprit of any disruptions, of any fights that broke out among the Hawkins High students.

Billy Hargrove, the man who had body slammed you into your locker during the first day of school because he ‘hadn’t seen you standing in his way’. The man who sit down in front of you during lunch break just to blow cigarette smoke in your face with a laugh. The man who then, later, when skipping class with the next skyscraper hair girl he had found to play tonsil tennis with, would flick said cigarrette buts out of his hand and onto your leg. In all honesty, he would say, he hadn’t even seen you sitting next to Steve Harrington on the bleachers.

Little did you know, that Billy Hargrove was trying to distract himself from how deeply, and utter terrifyingly much he was falling in love with you. He couldn’t get you: little, unknowing you out of his mind, and it was driving him insane.

The crowd here was so jubilant, singing the songs that belonged to the inebriated and joyful, so annoyingly happy. They rubbed shoulders, never minding that their toes were often trodden on or that they were in closer proximity to these strangers than they usually were every single day at school. The atmosphere was one of elation, the warm summer air occasionally punctuated by whoops and hollers.

Billy dropped down off the keg stand, finding a high, the only form of elation he could in his life from the roars of the boys around him as he saunters inside cheering. He reaches up to pull down the bunting that lines the ceilings, gritting his teeth in drunken victory. He buttons back up his shirt, hoping no one could see the slight red mark, the last remaining bruise in the shape of Neil Hargrove’s hand, but being too buzzed to fully care.

He sees you wander over to the pizza table from across the room, stepping on scattered cups and pieces of popcorn that litter the wooden floor. He frowns slightly as he watches you go, trying to draw his eyes away with a feeling he can only guess is close to some heartbreaking kind of longing. He snarled to himself, beating his chest and slapping Dean Mibrow on the shoulder as he passes by. Thinking about you too long reminded him of his mother: the things he wants most in life, will only break his heart in the end.

But the thought of the giddiness he would feel from just the touch of your skin muzzled his higher thinking in much the way the mass of beer he had just downed was. With his primitive brain in charge and the flood of endorphins urging him to continue he was swept away in the moment with his girl, his love. He was intoxicated.

Deciding which topping of pizza was going to be the best tasting one right that second, you don’t even notice John slide up to you, eyes glancing at your cheeks. He flashed you one of those signature half smiles that Hawkin heartbreakers were famous for, shifting closer towards you until his hand reached up to brush against your neck.

‘Hm, you smell delicious tonight, Y/n.’

‘And you’re drunk, John.’

He shoves his hands into the pockets of his football jacket, shrugging slightly. He couldn’t mask the look of slight annoyance that flitted over his face, however.

‘Maybe, but that doesn’t mean you have to be such a prude Y/n.’

‘Excuse me?’

You shivered as you tried to dodge the hand to started reaching towards your thigh.

‘I said-’

Before he could even reply, his body was flying forward onto the counter as Billy grabbed him by the scruff of his neck. Billy pinned him down, not enough to hurt him, but as his face loomed over John’s grimacing one, it was enough to instill fear into the jock’s heart.

‘You want to say that again? Say that shit one more time, I dare you.’

His voice was almost inaudible against the thumping music, but it was enough to make John’s legs start shaking from underneath Billy’s vest. You grab onto his arm, crying in surprise when Billy nearly rips his arm away, but he softens slightly under your touch.

‘Billy, it’s okay, everyone’s just really drunk. It’s fine.’

Billy’s grip falters as you grab onto his hand, one eyebrow twitching in confusion. When he realises that you’re not tugging away from him in disgust, he slowly interconnects his fingers with yours, letting his grip on John’s collar go.

‘Fine, but I’m giving you a ride home.’

The two of you just sit for a while on the hood of his Camaro, Billy kicking at the gravel with his boot as you just wonder. Wonder what on earth Billy Hargrove was doing.

‘Why are you being so nice to me. You hate me.’

Billy’s fingers reach behind him through the rolled down window to fumble with the radio buttons, switching the channels until he finds the track on the CD he’s looking for, ‘Kickstart my Heart’ by Motley Crue, turning it down slightly until the musical notes begin to blur in with your synchronised breathing.

‘I don’t hate you, Y/n. I hate most people in this shit hole town, but you’re not one of them.’

‘And you’re drunk as well, Billy.’

You smile at him warily, your heart beginning to pound at the hope that fills his swirling eyes, flecked with little pieces of gold as he looks at you like one of those hopeless romantics in a love movie, his chest shaking with each breath. Neither of you dare to move for a second, and all that can be heard between the two of you is the gentle hum of his engine.

‘And you’re warm.’

It takes you a second to realise what he means, before Billy’s forehead is resting gingerly on your shoulder and his arm drapes around your lower body. His fist is still trembling, slightly red against the knuckles as he grinds his teeth, scared by this moment of vulnerability. His voice rumbles against you as he continues,

‘And you’re beautiful.’

‘W-what?’

‘I didn’t tell you, because I don’t deserve you.’ He ducks his head for a second, his breath warm against your arm as he blinks the tears that rise up in the corner of his eyes away. ‘I break things, Y/n. All I do is break things, and you’re too perfect for someone as damaged as me.’

You laugh lightly at his nervous expression, wetting his plump lips almost subconsciously. He takes a deep breath in, staring at you with such an intensity you couldn’t place, but were willing to take a chance on.

‘I didn’t know you were soft for me.’

His smile faded, his expression growing deep. His eyes stared intently back at you, examining you, surveying you. His eyes travelled down to your lips, slowly pushing forward until his nose bumped against your forehead.

‘Only for you. But if you tell Harrington, you’re still dead.’

Buy me a Coffee?

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seeds-and-sins · 4 years ago

Text

F**kin’ Diabolical (Chapter 3)

Master List

Pairing: Homelander / Original Female Character, Billy Butcher / Original Female Character

Rating: M (Strong language, sexual themes)

Decription: Carly Danvers is a reporter/radio show host/annoying little piece of- For reasons unknown to Vought, she decided to start a one man investigation on Vought’s operation. Her efforts had been quite successful so far, so much so that Stillwell would have done anything to see the young girl dead. Turns out Stillwell didn’t have to do anything at all, while one piece of evidence against Vought causes Danvers to fly too close to the sun. And Homelander flies after her.

Chapter Summary; Carly wakes up in a hospital, with no idea what is going on, and she has a special visitor.

When she awoke, it was like rising to the surface of the ocean after having held your breath for so long. She jolted upward, eyes wide, sweat pooling on her body, a sizzling noise started around her and she huffed. The beeping to her right intensified, she brought her palm over her chest, wires for miles and sticky slabs attached there. She ripped them off, the beeping became louder, and her hands gripped firmly at the blankets on her...

"Shhhh..." A hushed whisper came from beside her, and from the corner of her eye a figure of red, white, and blue leaned down, breathing fanning out over her throat. She felt her breath hitch at the sensations, everything consuming her body and then the leather that pressed down onto her hand. Her head snapped in the direction of the whisperer, bright blue eyes meeting her own, a straight smile. "Shhh, now." His hand removed itself from her own, pressing now gently onto her stomach, urging her to lay back. As her head touched the pillow, her eyelids closed shut again and her breath gradually began to even out. "That's it." His footfalls distanced themselves, and when she had herself more calmed, she glanced over at him. His cape still fluttering out behind him, arms crossed as his gaze was straight out the window.

"H-Homelander," She choked out, realizing how sore her throat was, her fingers tenderly came up to clutch over the area. "What happened?" She groaned when her head throbbed once, and her palm then pressed to her temple.

"Do you remember the first time we met?" Homelander started, completely ignoring her question, her eyebrows furrowed when she heard something hit the marble floor on the other side of the door. It was like a needle in a haystack in her mind, and soon she could hear everything from afar and within, conversations, the ding on the elevator, doctors and nurses, and- "Don't worry about them, I asked you a question." Still staring out the window, his voice carried a threat that she didn't want to know the other half of. Carly swallowed, and huffed out a breath as her body relaxed in abandon into the plush sheets.

"Yes."

"I thought you were so goddamned annoying," He pointed a finger up, "But ever so brave, and tolerant, and intelligent," He faced her, pacing towards her with a half-sigh, "outspoken, soft, and compassionate." He licked his lips, she lost herself in his brilliant blue stare. "Do you remember what you told me?" Her expression contorted into confusion, he shook his head at her lack of a response, a slight smile tugging at his lips when he pondered the memory in his head, thoughtfully so. He paced back towards the window, flicking his fingers out to spread the blinds, the sun shining out onto him. "Well, I do." His voice turned stale and placid. "You told me that, 'Nearly all men can stand adversity, but if you want to test a man's character, give him power.'" His neck shot out as he heard her snort, her hand washed over her face and when she removed it, she was carrying this lethargic smile.

"Abraham Lincoln." She rasped, he smirked and nodded his head.

"Yes," He almost skipped back over to bed, pulling his cape out behind him as he settled on the edge, as if he was about to read a bedtime story. His leather glove slapped down onto her free hand, trembling slightly from some of the leftover adrenaline as she woke. The longer she stared at his smile, the more her own had come to droop. It was altogether eerie, and intimidating. He cocked his head at her, almost admiring her, but with that smile she couldn't tell what he was doing, or going to do. "I can't wait to see what you do with all of that power." His words sent shivers through her, thoughts and unshakable memories, and she sat up again, all to abruptly. "Now, what did I say?" He warned sternly, she flipped her hand over and grabbed his, gripping it with all of her might. He allowed her to do so, feeling the strength in her grip was all the more exciting. She would be perfect, and Stillwell could go fuck herself, corporate could go fuck themselves.

"I-I-No-That's impossible." His lips pursed, other hand reaching up to cup her cheek, thumb caressing down over her lips, his cheek twitched at the thought that he might finally rip into them full force without worrying about killing her. He immediately dropped his hand limply, tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek.

"I wish it was so." No, he didn't. "But this is a good thing. You're like me, now."

"Homelander, I don't ev-" He interrupted her with an eye roll that translated into amusement.

"Shhh, you don't have to say anything. I will take care of all of this, alright?" He patted the sheets and his smile turned more into a tight lipped. "For now, you need to be careful, okay? You are armed and extremely dangerous, as they say..." He snorted, leaning in and whispering from the corner of his lips. "The last thing Vought needs is you wrecking an entire hospital." He laughed as if it was some joke. "So, I will go see about some clothes for you and we will get this show on the road, huh?"

"C-Clothes?" Her lips parted, the shock finally hitting her as she realized that the nightmare she just woke up from, it was real.

"Yeah, your other ones..." He relayed a false cringe and shrugged. "Bullet holes. Everywhere." She gasped, but his finger wouldn't let her as it shot up to her lips. "But that's okay, alright? It's completely under control, now. I am very proud of you actually, you did so good for your first time." He praised with a coo.

"But what did I do?!" She blurted out, a panic attack starting to come on. She tried to temper it with deep breathed, rational thinking, Homelander simply watched. His head tilted and he winked at her, pointed comically and then stood up, peeling away her hand.

"Nice try, but I will have that be a surprise."

"Please, stop." She whimpered out, tears sliding down her cheeks. "What-I-I'm scared."

"Ohh, Carly..." He crossed his arms. "You should have thought of that before you broke into a fucking lab, huh? I mean, really, I told you to stay away and well..." He shrugged, then began a sway towards the door, a chippier way about his step. He grabbed the handle on the door and looked back at her one more. "You and I are going to have a lot of fun. I can already see it." He disappeared out the door and Carly sat with her lips parted in shock, furious tears streaming down her cheeks. All the blood and the gore, and then the fire, oh the fire. She did that with her eyes?! She closed her eyes, fingertips tracing over her thin eyelids and then she sobbed. Her body hunched over and she cried hard, holding her elbows with so much might she wondered if she could break her own self into pieces. She wanted to. The idea was thrilling almost, that she could die right this moment. She wished she could.

It was chilly, what little light that reflected through the sliding glass door settled onto Carly's navy blue dress. The sounds of conversation and classical music muffled by the outside. Though the clouds carried over the sky and what little stars could be seen, Carly felt more comfortable in the suffocating atmosphere than inside. She heard the glass doors slide open behind her, politely choosing not to glance over at her company. In fear of it being another guy she had been trying to evade that night.

"Now my, oh my, I must be quite lucky..." Her eyebrows furrowed at the familiar jest, the warmth settled at her side and she finally met his steel gaze. He grinned at her, openly looking her up and down, sending a wink in her direction. If it were anybody else, they'd be head over heels at the presence of the great and mighty Homelander, but Carly was hardly stunned. No one was truly famous or popular in her eyes, and Homelander soon found it so at the way her heart rate remained at its regular pace, no blood pressure rising over normal, sweaty palms, or frantic shyness. "To find myself in such gorgeous company." He finished, she nodded at him and then continued admiring the skyline. "It's awfully cold out here, sweetheart, what finds you all alone?"

"I don't really like people."

"Oh, come on, people like you I'm sure." She knew that it was all an act, and his eyebrows furrowed when her stare read right through him. Strands of dirty blonde fluttering in the wind as that wind brushed past them, she leaned more into the metal railing and cocked her head at him curiously.

"Ya'know I could ask you the same thing myself, right?"

"What, exactly?" He crossed his arms, finding his back against the railing as his eyes now focused on the crowd of aristocrats and rich folks inside, swarming like bees to their honey.

"What are you, the fierce and magnificent Homelander, doing out here?" He snorted, chin dropping to his chest and then he tilted his attention towards her with a handsome smirk.

"Fierce and magnificent, huh?"

"Yes, that's what everybody thinks, right?"

"Hmmm." She heard the rubber of his glove squeak in his fist, jaw tightening as his eyes hovered for too long over her chest. She cleared her throat, crossing her arms and his eyes found hers again.

"You're not abusing your powers are you?" He chuckled darkly and bit at his lip for a moment, then shook his head.

"What powers exactly do you speak of?"

"You do have x-ray vision last time I checked. You can see through everything..." She walked out in front of him and his eyes followed behind her as she found herself on the other side of him, against the railing again. She considered him with a seductive grace that made his lips part and his irises widen with arousal. "Even through my dress."

"I suppose I could, is that an invitation?" He stepped closer, perhaps to get a reaction out of her, testing the waters, by shortening the distance between them. For a moment, as close as he was, she welcomed the body heat in this cold.

"Even if it wasn't, you'd do it anyways." They were inches away from each other, the urge to just grab her, was very present in her mind. His foot came out to get even further, their chests touching and he had to look down to get a better view of her. She was absolutely stunning, all plush lips, bright eyes, and acute features. She certainly would be one of the most beautiful to have graced his presence. Granted, he hadn't even gotten permission yet, but the urge to just take her either way was crawling through him. Her palm met his pectoral and she had done it in this way that made her all the more alluring. "You know, there is this quote that makes me think of you..." He gulped, hoping to hide the desperation to hear and know her next words, perhaps all the more sexual and then all the more an invitation for him to just have her right here on this balcony. An absolute stranger of a woman, but he could care less.

"Tell me." His voice cracked, even though he was trying so hard to keep himself composed. His fingers had left dents in the railing, surely, from how hard he was trying to restrain himself.

"Nearly all men can stand adversity, but if you want to test a man's character, give him power." Homelander wasn't sure if the words annoyed him, or more enthralled in her mystery, but he wanted more of it and that really did annoy him. She then subtly brushed all of herself against him as she passed to rejoin the party. She turned in stride and back peddled towards the glass door. "And also, you really shouldn't flirt with everything that walks your way, Homelander. You might not like who you bump into." She teased, disappearing through the doors and into the sea of people, his eyes still following her as she went.

Later that night, while Stillwell and him had found themselves off on the sidelines, having a brief conversation about the night's events, he asked about her.

"Oh, her? Not worth your time. That's Carly Danvers, and she's a fucking splinter in my ass."

"That, so?" Homelander's jaw tightened, he hadn’t stopped looking at her the whole night. For someone that didn't really like people, she knew how to play a crowd very well.

"She hates Vought, and has been doing an investigation on us, what a little bitch." Homelander tried to hide his smirk as he sipped from his glass.

"Hmm, why did Vought invite her then?"

"It's all publicity, John. The girl is an absolute train wreck for us, but the closer she is the less we have to worry about her, I guess." He nodded his head silently, but in all actuality, he really couldn't stop looking under that dress.

She didn't realize how hard it was to control one's strength with this much power. After finding some self control in Homelander's absence, she decided to get the hell out of there; A lot easier said than done. As soon as she put her feet down, little cracks formed in the tile, she was practically tiptoeing and still crack after crack forming as she went. There was no way she wasn't going to draw any attention to herself, especially the way she was trying so hard to refrain from blinking or swinging her arms around. She was like a ticking time bomb without a clock, ready to explode at any point in time, she could accidentally kill everybody in a matter of seconds. What scared her even more was blacking out again, and then killing everybody without even being present for it.

In her efforts to prevent herself from putting her feet through the floor, she didn't realize how much time had passed. The door opened and in came Homelander, she wasn't prepared for his entrance. And even as he stood before her, she tripped over her own tippy toes and landed on the foot rest of the bed, causing the metal bars to dent inward and break in half under her weight. Homelander sighed, he closed the door behind him, a set of clothes in his hand, he tossed them onto the side of the bed that wasn't horribly broken.

"What did I tell you, Carly? Look at this..." He muttered something under his breath as he wrapped his arm under her armpit and picked her up to drag her towards the bed. She sat down, although it was now slanted downwards, and she crossed her arms in a pout. "Look at the tile, Carly. You fucked up the tile." He snapped, gesturing to the white marble that was now tarnished with cracks and dents in the shape of feet. In an effort to ignore him, Carly grabbed the clothes he had found for her, a part of her wondering why it had taken so long. Then she saw, a familiar pair of sweatpants, lingerie red underwear and an ACDC shirt...

"These are my clothes." Homelander took a deep breath, and crossed his arms.

"I had to swing by your apartment, I didn't know what size you wore." Her eyebrows furrowed at him.

"And how did you know where I live?" He could have looked it up, but his reaction in regards to her question told her otherwise. She didn't know why it was this particular thing that made her snap, but it did, it really did. She stood up, feet leaving harsh imprints in the tile and she stormed up to him. Her finger pointed, accusing in his face and she grunted angrily, trying to find the right words for how irritated she was. "I want to know what the fuck is going on?! How do I go back to being normal again?! I am not some hero! This is fucked up and-and..." her words trailed off, eyes going wide as her head started to level with Homelander's and beyond. She looked vacantly down at her now floating feet, swinging her arms and legs around. All rationality left her and she reached out for Homelander, who was amused, taking in the spectacle before him. "Homelander, please! Help!" His thumb and point fingers gripped under his chin as he analyzed her approach towards the ceiling.

"Fascinating feeling, isn't it?"

"Please! Let me down! Help! This is wrong! This feels weird-This-"

"Alright, alright! Just fucking shut up for once." He grabbed her wrists and yanked her back down to his level, using his body to take in the momentum of her descent and she collided hard against his chest. She grabbed his shoulders with that strong grip of hers, his hands still thumbing along the pulse points on her wrists and he smiled down at her. She huffed defeat and dropped her forehead to his chest plate.

"What do I do?" She mumbled, and Homelander's hands found either side of her head, forcing her to look back up at him again. The bleary, teary eyed look she gave him sent something through him and he sighed, shaking his head. Matching those beautiful eyes of hers with his own somewhat amused, somewhat enthralled look.

"You listen to me, and you do exactly as I say. Do you understand?"

"But-"

"Shhh..." His hands shoved her face back into his chest, despite her physical protests, and he rested his chin on her head, giving her a false comfort. "You belong to Vought now, Carly. And you belong to me." He said those words with such sinister satisfaction. Hearing those words was when Carly knew, without a doubt, that she had made a grave mistake. A big one.

#homelander x ofc #billy butcher x ofc #madelyn stillwell #homelander #Billy Butcher #the boys

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criminalromantic · 5 years ago

Text

Caffeine Pleasantries (Billy Russo x Fem!Reader)

Summary: What happens when you meet a random stranger in a café? Might not be as pleasant as may think at first.

Word Count: 1582

A/N: turned out that when you have to study, you can get a lot of writing done, strange

Warnings: a few swear words are flying around, watch out

********************

It was a cold windy Friday but hey, it was finally Friday and you were ready to end the week in your favorite café drinking your favorite warm drink. Or maybe you would try one of the seasonal autumn drinks. You deserved it. The week was horrible. You had tests coming your way from every direction during this part of the semester. Some teachers seemed like they enjoyed sending back your homework with the request for you to redo it, or you would lose points. Other teachers didn’t even bother to respond to the e-mails. What a joy to be a college student.

All of these thoughts of yours disappeared when you took your last turn and saw your destination in the distance. You quickened your pace to get to your favorite café a bit faster. It was always packed on Fridays, which made sense. A lot of people were looking for a place to unwind at the end of the week. Lucky for you, your schedule allowed you to get there before it got bad and you always managed to find yourself a nice spot by the window. Today was no different. The place was positively half-full, you saw as you looked around. You headed to a small wooden table that was waiting for you in the corner. You liked that spot because no one ever asked to sit there. It was rather small. One person could fit there comfortably with all their stuff, for two people it might be a little tight but they could manage.

It was when the waitress brought your cappuccino that you noticed people coming in. Within an hour the entire place was packed. You liked the atmosphere, it became something familiar to you over time. Your favorite activity was looking out the window and watching people out and about while listening to the chatter of the café. It made you calm for some strange reason. Maybe it was because at that time you were not one of these people. You weren’t planning anything, your only plan was to sit right in your place and enjoy your warm drink.

“Is that seat taken?“ You turned your head to look at the source of the voice. A very handsome man stood before you. You took your time to look him up and down before you answered, which he seemed to notice and didn’t mind. He was handsome. Very handsome, like he just stepped off the catwalk and decided to have a coffee break before he went back.

“Sure, make yourself comfortable.“ You gestured to the free seat opposite you and went back to what you were previously doing – looking out the window and slowly sipping on your drink.

“So, do you come here often?“ Oh no, he is a talker. Part of the reason why you liked coming here was so that you could have a moment of peace. You shot him a dirty look before answering.

“Yes. But now I’m considering finding a new favorite café.“ He laughed at the response and took a sip of his drink, which seemed like plain black coffee, but you weren’t sure.

“Feisty, I like you already.“ You inspected his expression, trying to find emotion in it. But all you saw was that he was so beautiful that it was a bit offensive. His features were the perfect balance between sharp and soft, memorable and welcoming. His dark brown hair was slicked back in a very stylish way. Two nearly black eyes were glued to your face and it took all your inner strength to keep from blushing. A slight stubble was framing his face.

“Well, that’s a shame, because I don’t like you.“ You snapped at him. Whatever you expected him to do, he did the opposite of that. He crossed his arms and put them on the table as he leaned in.

“Now, I don’t think you mean that.“ His voice sounded like what honey would sound like if it had a sound. Once again, you found yourself looking at him as he waited for your response.

“You know what?“ You pulled some random notes from your bag, ready to start ignoring the stranger. You were starting to get angry when he burst out laughing and visibly had to hold back as to not alert the entire café.

“You��re ridiculous, you know that?“ He said when his laughter subsided a little.

“I am ridiculous? You’re the one ridiculous here.“ You replied without even sparing him a look, but that wasn’t necessary. You could feel his eyes on you again.

“Well, I’m not the one who put their notes on the table to avoid the conversation. You sure you don’t want to change your statement?“ He was being so smug as he leaned back against the chair and put one elbow on top of the chair. How did this conversation even manage to get so unpleasant so quickly?

“No. I think I’m going to stick to my statement.“ You said as you flipped a page of your notes and pretended to study them. In fact, with his stare focused on you, it was impossible to focus.

“I’m Billy, by the way.“ Your head slowly went up to look at him like he just murdered a group of puppies.

“Well, good for you. Do you want a medal with that? I’m Y/N, but you don’t see me walking around and saying that to random people.“ You could feel the smirk on his face. And see it too, in the corner of your eye.

“Well, nice to meet you, Y/N.“ He raised his now empty to-go cup and clinked with your cup, which was also empty. “Does that mean that I’m not a random person to you? We know each other’s names, after all.“

“Why don’t you just shut up and go. You finished your coffee. I’m sure someone like you has places to be and people to meet.“ You crossed your arms on your chest and looked at him the way someone would look at a person if they were trying to set them on fire.

“Why don’t you leave? And why would I leave? You’re so fun to talk to.“ His tone indicated that he didn’t believe a single word of what you had just said. And you, too, doubted the truthfulness of your words as soon as you spoke them.

“You know what, stay here or leave, I don’t care.“ You sighed and went back to your notes. Billy sat up straight and put his cup on the table. He seemed like he was done bickering too.

“So, what’s your major?“ He asked casually.

“And why do you want to know that?“ You replied dryly, not fully willing to let go of how annoying this man was.

He raised his hands defensively. „I’m just asking.“ He said with a shake of his head. “I’m getting... humanities vibes from you. What is it? Journalism? Law? Economy? Psychology?“ You narrowed your eyes at him before answering.

“Business law.“ You heard him let out a low whistle and hoped that at least something that this man did wasn’t irritating. You needed a break, so you went to the restroom. The whole time you walked towards your brief moment of salvation, you could feel his eyes on you. You went back to the table with a little more confidence. The pep talk you gave to yourself in a mirror a little while ago was a good one.

As you slid back into your seat at the table, you could see Billy shift and stand up. You didn’t want to look directly at him, but you could see that he was putting on his coat and scarf. It was at that moment that it occurred to you that you actually liked his company. Mostly when he was quiet, sure, but still.

“I’m not going to bother you anymore, have a nice evening and weekend, Y/N. It was nice meeting you.“ He gave you a wink and before you could say anything in response, he was gone.

A few moments later you decided it was time to go too. Your drink was finished and you weren’t going to study anything anymore. Not like you could focus on anything after events of the recent hour. You were going to put your notes back into your bag and take out your wallet when you noticed the bills lying in front of you.

“That idiot paid for my drink?“ You asked yourself out loud and laughed at the whole situation. The more you thought about it, the more you realized that the encounter could have gone much smoother. Maybe he would’ve hung around a bit longer if you didn’t verbally kick him out a few times.

You were ready to close your notebook and put it away when you noticed a napkin visibly sticking out. It was strange. You took it out and looked it over.

You didn’t know if you wanted to scream or laugh as your eyes laid open a phone number written in it. Underneath that was “call me, Billy“. He must have put it there when you were in the restroom. You couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your face. He might have been an asshole, but he was kind of an endearing asshole.

You put the napkin in a pocket on your jacket and made sure that you wouldn’t lose it. Then you quickly packed your stuff and left the café.

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo imagine #ben barnes #the punisher #billy russo coffee shop #coffee shop

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victoria-daydreams · 5 years ago

Text

Skylark

GIF by @silent-force

Summary: Living in the midst of a war while working to make ends meet was nothing new to Alice Lloyd. That was until a chance meeting between her and a RAF pilot would forever change both their lives.

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: So this is my first time posting a story on this site and I’m slightly nervous about it. But I had to write this story because it’s been my head for months now. I also wanted to write it because I have not seen any Dunkirk stories with a Black/POC character which is understandable to a point. Anyways, I hope you like it to those who read it.

Sitting backstage at The Garden Rouge Club sat Alice Lloyd humming to herself as she concentrated on painting her lips red with lipstick. Alice screwed her lipstick down and placed the cap back on before placing it on the desk of the vanity mirror. Opening her mouth, Alice looked at her reflection, making sure there was not any lipstick on her teeth. The upbeat sound of jazz music being played from the band onstage was muffled, but yet Alice could still feel it vibrate into her ears, bounce off the walls, and emanate from the floor.

Alice stood up from her seat at the mirror and closed her eyes, placing her hands on her stomach and breathing deeply. Her heart began to race at the thought of her upcoming performance. The feeling of butterflies had entered her stomach as well. Alice had performed multiple times at the club, so she didn't understand why she was always nervous before each performance.

Out of nowhere, two pale hands landed on each of Alice's shoulders causing her eyes to snap open in fright.

"Why do you do this to yourself every time?" a man asked laughing.

"You ass!" Alice cursed, softly elbowing him in the ribs. "You scared the living daylights out of me James!" she added, shaking his hands off her shoulders.

James Allen's droopy gray eyes crinkled as he grinned proudly, shoving his hands into his pockets. He towered over Alice short stature of only five-five as the two of them looked at their reflection.

"You're going to do amazing Alice," the dark-haired man assured. "As you always do," he added, with a smile on his face.

"I know, but I always get a little anxious before I go on stage," she stated, shaking her head.

James breathed out a laugh, "Well think of it this way," he began, placing his hands on her shoulders again. "Even if you make a mistake onstage, the crowd won't notice because they'll be too enamored with this beautiful face," he stated, lifting her chin up with two of his fingers. "You look gorgeous Alice,"

Alice looked down and smoothed her red halter cocktail dress that complimented her warm, almond brown complexion.

She looked up at him with a small smile on her face, "You think so?" she asked, nervously running a hand through the black, glossy waves of her hair.

"Of course!" James said, sounding playfully exasperated. "Now come on, you don't want to keep the crowd waiting do you?" he asked, and she shook her head as he lead her to stage right.

James gave a reassuring squeeze on her shoulder before walking away from her to return to his to stagehand duties. Alice slightly peeped her head out to see the club was in full swing as couples danced happily on the dance floor. The band played the final note of their number and a loud applause echoed in the hall.

"Allow me to introduce our very own Miss Alice Lloyd,"

Alice walked onto the stage, waving and smiling at the audience as she made her way to the microphone.

"Let's keep this party going shall we?" she asked enthusiastically, and the crowd cheered in agreement.

She grasped onto the microphone as the rhythmic beating of the drum started up soon followed by the blaring of trumpet horns. Alice tapped her foot to the beat and smiled as she sang the opening line to 'Marvellous Party'.

Alice's eyes scanned through the smoky atmosphere of the club, watching friends and couples dance wildly and whirl each other around the dance floor. It brought a smile to her face as she snapped along to the verse she was singing. It was at this moment Alice's bright brown eyes met a pair of intense blue eyes looking back at her. The man had blond tousled hair and looked to be her age if not a little older. Feeling bold, Alice sent the man a playful wink as she continued on with her singing.

Belting out the last note, the room was filled with whistles, cheers, and applause.

"I hope we're not tired out there," Alice began, as the band started playing their next song.

~~~x~~~

After singing two more songs Alice exited the stage, but the band kept the party going. She made her to the bar, maneuvering through the packed crowd as best as she could. Finally at the bar, all Alice had to do was lift one finger and the bartender nodded his head as he had her order memorized.

"Thank you!" she called gratefully, as the bartender walked away after handing her a gin.

Drinking deeply, Alice leaned against the bar observing the club-goers, nodding her head along the upbeat song that was being performed. Until a voice from beside startled her.

"Ye sounded lovely up there," a Scottish-accented voice stated.

Alice whipped her head to the right and looked up to see the blond-haired man from earlier. The man smiled at her revealing his dimples in both of his cheeks, he had quite a boyish face. In Alice's opinion, the man was quite handsome. The man lifted an eyebrow at her silence and Alice cleared her throat as she felt heat flush her face from embarrassment for studying the man's features too long.

"Thank you," she finally said, a smile pulling on her lips. "I'm glad you enjoyed it," she added, with a slight nod.

An awkward silence fell between the two of them and Alice lowered her head before taking another sip of her gin. Sneakily, she glanced over at the blond-haired man who was staring out into the crowd. When she was on the stage the man was sitting alone, and now here he was next to her still by himself. Alice began to wonder if the man came here with no friends.

"Did you come here alone?" Alice asked curiously, and he turned his head toward her.

“ Yes,"

"That's quite sad," Alice stated mindlessly, downing the rest of her drink.

The man chuckled, "Ouch," he commented, putting his hand over his heart.

Alice's eyes widened and she placed her drink down, "Oh my goodness, that's not what I meant," she apologized, shaking her head. "I wasn't calling you sad, I meant no offense sir," she clarified, waving her hands.

The man lightly laughed and shook his head, "No offense taken," he assured. "I found it rather amusing lass," he added, a smile on his lips. "Jack Collins," he introduced, sticking his hand out.

Alice smiled, relief flooding through her like a tidal wave, "Alice," she responded, shaking his hand. "Alice Lloyd," Smiling at one another, the two of them slid onto the bar stools that were next to them. "So what brought you to the Garden Rouge Mr. Collins?" Alice asked, somewhat playfully as she had her gin refilled.

Jack lifted his stout, "I came for a drink," he answered, before taking a long pull from it.

"You could've went to a pub if that's all you wanted," she pointed out, a chuckle escaping her lips.

"I suppose so, but a pub doesn't have the same lively ambiance a club does," he quipped, with a smirk.

Alice shrugged and nodded in agreement, "But going to a nightclub by yourself would be rather boring wouldn't it?" she posed, raising her glass to her lips. "I mean where are your lads?" she asked, putting the cup down.

Alice noticed that Jack's smile seemed to drop a little at her question and soon began to sense a change in his demeanor.

"They're gone," he answered, while examining the wood of the bar counter. "Off fightin in the war," he added, a distant look in his eyes.

"Oh," Alice breathed, in shock. "And you were left behind due to being rejected for medical reasons?" she guessed, her tone soft.

Jack shook his head, "No lass," he said. "I'm a pilot in the Royal Air Force," Jack corrected, lifting his head to finally look at her. "I'm just on leave," he added.

"Ahhh, a fly boy," Alice stated, tilting her head with a grin. "Well in that case, thank you for your service," she smiled, raising her glass which made a tiny grin appear on Jack's face. "I once thought about serving this country as a nurse, but it seems Britain would rather let Nazis invade the country before they ever accept a colored nurse," Alice joked bitterly, before sipping her drink and watching everyone still on the floor dancing or socializing.

"This job looks teh be more fun in my opinion," he commented, with a slight shrug.

Alice laughed, "It has its moments, when the pay is good," she replied, turning her body to face him. "Before the war broke out, I wanted to be a famous singer like Billie Holiday," she told him, resting her arm on the counter. "But now...it doesn't matter, war or no war, the chances of me singing professionally are slim," she finished shaking her head.

"I don't see why ye couldn't. Ye certainly have the pipes for it," Jack complimented.

"Thank you Jack," Alice said, a small smile forming on her lips. "But colored people don't achieve fame easily, even if we're talented," she added, shaking her head. Alice pushed herself off the bar stool, her feet hitting the floor with a soft click of her heels. "I best get back to work," she said, glancing over her shoulder at the stage. "I doubt my boss would be pleased to see me not doing what he hired me for," she chuckled, interlocking her fingers in front of her.

“It was nice meeting ye Alice," Jack said, smiling brightly at her.

"And you as well Jack," she told him. "Maybe I'll you see around here again. Hopefully, with friends," Alice jested, before walking away from him.

A/N: If this garners enough attention I’ll probably write the second chapter or maybe even if it doesn’t I’ll probably still post the second chapter just to get this story out of my head

Chapter Two

#dunkirk #dunkirk imagine #dunkirk imagines #jack collins #collins dunkirk #collins dunkirk imagine #black!oc #black original character #woc character #poc characters #black female oc #black fanfiction #dunkirk fanfiction

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dragon-kazansky · 5 years ago

Text

Going North - Chapter nine

Chapter 9 - A boy returns

Lee kept to his word and managed to get to stop worrying over Lyra. When you first met her you never expected to become so attached to her, but here you were. Lee told you he understood. Lyra had made an impact on both him and Iorek. He hoped they both came back safely too.

The only time you had thought about Lyra again was when Lord Faa had come over to talk to you about her, but you told him you had faith in her. The alethiometer doesn't lie, so it wasn't leading her astray. Ma Costa wasn't too happy about the situation, and you dared not go talk to her about it. Though she did give Lyra some food to take with her.

You remained by Lee's side the entire day.

During lunch the pair of you had a wonderful conversation, getting to know each other some more.

"You said you made trinkets, didn't you?" He asked at one point.

"Yeah, why do you ask?"

"Well, we're not going any where for a while, thought maybe I could see you at work." He smiled.

"I suppose.... on one condition." You told him.

"Name your price."

"You promise me, promise, that you will give me a ride in your balloon." You smiled. "I know you said maybe, but I want you to promise. The thought is just too exciting and I want to be up there in the sky." You gazed up briefly. The sky wasn't very clear here, but Lee understood your meaning.

"Well, that does sound fair." He thought about it. "Deal. What do you need?"

"Scrap will do. I can make things out of the tiniest bits of metal, if I want to." You told him.

"I think I have a few spare parts somewhere." He went over to one of the sleds and dug around. Most of what he brought was for his balloon, but he figured he could spare some to see you at work. You interested him and he wanted to see you skills in action. A ride in his balloon seemed like a fair price for you. "Here you go." He came back with a few things. "Don't you need tools?"

You took the parts from him and smiled.

"Not a problem." You set them down and dug into your pocket, taking out a tin no bigger than your hand. You opened it up to reveal a small tool kit.

"You came prepared I see." He chuckled, sitting down next to you.

"It's in my nature to always be prepared with my work. You never know when something might need fixing.... or taking apart." You chuckled. You organised the parts and thought about what to make. Hester hopped up next to you, curious to see you at work, also. You smiled.

You're not sure how long you were both sat there, chatting like you had known each other for years, but eventually you were done.

"I think that's it." You held up your finished product. A small metal rabbit.

Lee looked at it, taking it from you when you offered it to him. He turned it slowly in his hands as he admired your hard work. It was amazing. There was so much detail laced into it, despite how few parts you had to work with.

"This is incredible."

"I try my best." You shrugged.

"Y/N can work with anything." Oliver said, flying over to Lee. "She just needs a little inspiration."

Hester looked at you with bright eyes.

"Now I have two Hester's." Lee chuckled. "Looks just like you." He held it close to her.

"I like it." She said. "You're very talented."

"It's what I do." You smiled.

Lee couldn't get over how awesome this little thing was. You were amazing. The entire time you were making it, he couldn't look away. It was like he was hypnotised into watching your hands work.

"I'm holding you to your promise." You told him.

Lee snapped back into reality and looked at you.

"A ride in my balloon, I haven't forgotten. When the times comes." He smiled at you.

"I look forward to it."

You cleaned up the mess you had made and came back to talk some more with Lee. He was so easy to talk to. When you met him, you never expected to get on with him so well. The pair of you clicked.

"So, do you and Hester travel alone?" You asked, noticing he hadn't mentioned anyone else.

"Just the two of us and the open sky."

"Isn't that lonely?" You asked.

Lee shrugged. "I'm used to it. What about you? Do you work with others?"

"No. Just Oliver and I." You realised that you had more in common with him than you thought. "I don't get lonely though, I have plenty of people pass through my shop. The Gyptians never travel too far away, either."

"You do seem to get on really well them." He pointed out.

"They're friends of mine. If you get on their good side, they can be your friends too." You smiled. "They are pretty wonderful people to know."

The rest of the afternoon passed by quickly. You and Lee spent hours talking to one another about anything. You asked about some of the places he had been to, he spared no detail. He asked about some of your projects, you happily discussed those. You told him about your fascination with vehicles. He told you about him and Iorek.

No one else bothered the pair of you as you sat there talking away.

Your mind was free from worry of Lyra for the time being.

It was dark when things began to stir. Serafina's daemon screeched out upon their arrival. Lee and yourself had retired to the tent at the time, but when you heard the fuss, neither one of you wasted time in coming out to see what was happening.

Lyra had returned with Iorek.

And someone else.

"Billy! Is that my Billy?" Ma called out, hurrying over.

"Oh my God." You sprinted over, hurrying over to Iorek. Lee watched you go, following you quickly.

The boy was helped down, though he did not move at all. You looked up at Lyra. There was something about the expression on her face that didn't sit right with you. You knew something bad had happened. It was right of her to follow the alethiometer, though.

"Where's Ratter? Where's his daemon?" Ma asked.

They put Billy down.

"Is that my Billy?" She asked again.

Billy couldn't hold himself up and toppled over. Something was very wrong here. Ma held onto him.

"Maggie, let me help you." John said, coming to her aid. "Take him inside. Get him warm." He helped lift the boy into her arms, she cried as she carried him away.

Lyra tried to follow, but Lee pulled her back gently.

"Best leave them to it." He said. "Trust me when I tell you that they love you, but this... they won't want you there for." He told her.

"He was... He was... without his daemon. Like a ghost." She said, sounding broken.

You put your arm around her, no longer wishing to look at the sight. Seeing Billy like that, it hurt.

"The alethiometer was right. It was like... like he wasn't there. Like he couldn't even hear me." She looked at you.

"This must be what they do. This is what they take." Lee said, sharing a sad look with you.

"It's horrible." Lyra leaned into your side a little, looking for some comfort. You would give what you could. "It's worse than anything." She said, her voice a little stronger this time. "Why would they take someone's daemon?"

Hester lowered her ears, dreading the thought. Oliver lowered his head, keeping his beak close to his feathers. He would never want to be separated from you.

"It's about control, isn't it? Because if you can remove someone's soul, you can do anything." Lee said, speaking softly.

Iorek growled. You turned to face him as he turned away.

"Yeah, our furry friend here doesn't deal too well with emotion. Never has. He'll be back at first light." Lee explained. "Hey, you did a brave thing, kid. A good thing." He said, seeing the look on Lyra's face. You gave her a squeeze. Lee placed a hand on her back and gave her a small pat. You were both very proud of her.

"You trusted your instincts. You found Billy." You said. "Come on." You and Lee took her back to your tent. You guided her to the fire where she could get warm. You gave her something to drink, but she didn't touch it.

Lee came over to where you were sitting.

"You OK?" He asked softly. He had noticed how unsettled you had been when you realised it was Billy.

"No." You replied quietly. "Poor Billy. I can't... Why would they do that? He's just.... a shell." You looked at him with tear filled eyes. "It was horrible to look at." You went to wipe the tear that begun to fall, Lee hushed you softly and pulled you into a one armed hug. What happened to Billy was awful.

"Hey, now. Shh. It's going to be OK. We're going to be OK." He spoke so sweetly, so kindly. "We won't let this happen to anyone else."

It seemed that Lee had that faith you did.

Without his daemon, Billy was no longer that same boy who used to follow his brother around, or play with the toys you used to make for him. He won't ask any more curious questions, hug his mother, be the wonderful boy he was.

They had taken that from him.

Eventually you all moved into the tent. Ma and Tony had been quiet after taking Billy into one of the tents further down. You wanted Lyra to get some rest after what had happened, but even you didn't feel like resting.

It wasn't until a little while later that you had to wake her up. News had travelled through camp.

"Lyra." Lee gave her a little nudge. "Lyra."

"He died." She understood just by the looks on your faces. You nodded softly.

"He must have been wandering around for days - frozen, exhausted."

"Can I see him?" She asked quietly.

"Of course you can." You said.

Lyra got up. You and Lee followed. The atmosphere outside was quiet, sad. Lyra walked over to where Billy lay. They were preparing to burn his body. No one said anything as she neared him.

Lee remained close to you.

Ma was kneeling over her boy. She looked up when Lyra came over.

Lyra silently pulled the tarp from over his face, only his face. That's when it became hard for her to hold back her feelings. She began to cry softly. She covered him back up.

Ma had stood up, coming to her side. Lyra wrapped her arms around her and cried into her shoulder, Ma holding her close.

You couldn't back your own tears.

"Now we know what terrible wickedness these people are capable of." John Faa said to Ma. "Now we can see our duty plainer than ever. We have to fight."

"We have to kill." Ma said, her voice strong, but her eyes still glistened with tears.

Lyra let go of Ma, looked at her and silently turned around. She rushed towards you and you pulled her into a hug, letting her cry. You cried with her. Lee hated this. He hated what had happened. He wrapped an arm around you and gave you the comfort you needed, while you comforted Lyra.

Ma lit the fire and stood back as she watched the flames consume her son. She began to break down, unable to handle her strong facade any longer. Her son had been taken from her.

Tony went over to comfort her.

Lyra turned in your arms to look. Lee kept an arm around you. No one said anything as you just watched.

This was the worst thing you had ever seen.

The Gyptians began to sing, letting his soul set free.

Billy could rest now.

Oliver stood next to Hester, who glanced at Pan. Their thoughts with Ratter, wherever he may be.

You pressed a kiss to Lyra's head, squeezing her softly.

No other child should have to go through this.

The mission was clear.

It was a sad night for you all.

When the hour grew too late, and it was all over, everyone was exhausted. It was difficult to accept that he was gone. You guided Lyra back to the tent you and Lee were staying in, there was enough room for a little one, and you all got ready for bed. You lay awake with Lyra for a while, not saying anything, but holding her hand when she reached for you.

Lee sat silently, looking at you both.

You waited for Lyra to fall asleep, she was too tired to remain awake any longer.

Lee offered you a tiny smile when you looked at him.

"Just wake me if you need me." He told you.

You nodded, rolled over, and closed your eyes. Your heart was heavy, but you needed sleep.

Tags:

@awyr @fandombeehive @charmed-asylum @sigynbandraoi-blog @procrastinatingmurder @beebofrank13 @gemellath @eagleandthebutterfly @kpopgirlbtssvt @raeofstarshine @melancholicsthings @ettorah @iaintnofurry @thatkindofgurl @curse-brekker @sitkafay @flashettewrites @lucienjynix

#lee scoresby x reader #lee scoresby #His Dark Materials #going north #chapter 9 #lin manuel miranda

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fangirlingtodeath513 · 5 years ago

Text

Plans | a 15x09 coda

The monster isn’t exactly subtle. Dean can hear his heavy footfalls after only a few steps, and a particularly loud twig cracking as he steps on it. Still, they could use a hand finding this blossom thing, so he glances at Cas and cocks an eyebrow. Something’s following us, he prays, knowing that Castiel will pick up on it. The angel gives a subtle nod and continues walking.

They’ve found a way to communicate almost silently after all these years and all the hunts they’ve done together. It’s scary how aligned their thoughts are sometimes, but in situations like this, it sure does come in handy. Castiel’s nod here conveys both his acknowledgment of Dean’s prayer and his decision to keep walking until the monster makes its move. So they do. The wander through Purgatory for another half an hour before Dean stoops to look at a corpse and the monster—a Leviathan, they learn—makes his move. A poor move, on his part, though maybe he doesn’t know who he’s dealing with.

Trusting him is dangerous, but it’s really the only choice they have. Albeit reluctantly, he and Cas follow him. And, of course, it backfires, because that’s just their luck. Nothing can ever just be easy for them. At least, that’s what Dean thinks before he blacks out.

Seeing Dean hit the ground like that sends a wince through Castiel, even though it’s been a long time since he’s experienced human pain like that. Regardless, Dean will be fine, it’s the Leviathan and the blossoms they need to worry about. They’d tipped their hand when telling the Leviathan about their need for a blossom, so Castiel has no doubt their first move will be to destroy every blossom in sight.

He’s right. He’s rooted to the spot watching in nothing short of agony as the Leviathan smirks at him and destroys every single blossom, circling the area three times to make sure they’re all gone. There goes their last chance of bringing Chuck down.

A crowd of more Leviathans—five, at Castiel’s count—emerge from the woods and sneer at him. His eyes dart to Dean, injured and helpless where he’s sprawled on the ground, and he doesn’t even put up a fight. No matter the grudge Eve may hold against Dean, she’s far more interested in Castiel, so he goes along willingly. Maybe he’ll get lucky and find a blossom along the way, though his hopes aren’t high for that.

They walk for what feels like hours, and it may very well be hours. Purgatory is huge and dense and Castiel still has nightmares about the place, about hearing Dean’s voice in his head every night, begging to be reunited when Castiel knew the moment they were would be the moment Dean was in danger again.

He shakes those thoughts from his head as a Leviathan pushes him forward, making him stumble for a moment before he recovers. He needs to concentrate, he can’t worry about Dean right now.

He gets his opportunity a ways into their march. The Leviathan don’t have someone walking behind him, which is their first mistake. He darts off the path and plucks a blossom from the shadow of a tree, tucking it safely in a chest pocket, hidden away carefully. Then he attacks. The first two Leviathan go down easy, heads severed with the machete he’d managed to stow away when they weren’t looking. It won’t stop them, but it’ll knock them out of operation long enough for him to get away.

One of them attacks him from behind, which knocks his few precious seconds of escape down to nothing. Frustrating as it is, he still needs to find a way to escape, so he fights. He was trained for this, he knows how to fight until he gets his opportunity.

Sure enough, two of the Leviathan scamper off and he gets his chance to behead one and smash another in the nose with the butt of his machete, grabbing the small bottle of bleach from his pocket and throwing it in the face of the third. It gives him enough of a distraction to run for it, ducking behind a tree close by and holding his breath. They walk right by him and he breathes a sigh of relief before heading in the other direction.

It takes him a while to get back in the direction he needs to go, and then he lets his mind wander again. He’s got the chance, he might as well. Purgatory’s brought up a lot of feelings he’d been determined to shove down, maybe he should try to do something with them while he’s got the time.

Cas, I hope you can hear me. That wherever you are, it’s not too late.

It doesn’t register for a moment. He’d heard Dean’s voice in his head every single day he was in this place, so initially, he writes it off as a memory this godforsaken place pulled out. Except then it keeps going, and it’s not a prayer he’s heard before.

I should’ve stopped you. A pause. A shaky breath that makes Cas’s heart ache. You’re my best friend but I just let you go. Another pause, another shaky breath. Cause that was easier than admitting I was wrong. A deep breath, a wet chuckle. Then it goes quiet for longer than Castiel cares for. He wonders if Dean got ambushed. Then there’s a quiet sniff and his voice returns. I-I don’t know why I get so angry. I just, I know that it’s-it’s just always been there. A deep, shaking breath that breaks off into something that resembles a sob. It makes Castiel’s heart clench in his chest and he leans against a nearby tree to focus fully on the prayer. And when things go bad, it just, it comes out. And I-I can’t stop it. No matter how… how bad I want to, I just can’t stop it. He can practically hear the tears he instinctively knows are sliding down Dean’s cheeks right now. He’d give anything to fly to him and tell him he’s forgiven, because of course he is. And I-I forgive you, of course I forgive you. I’m sorry it took me so long to— Dean cuts himself off with a sniffle and Cas thinks he hears a twig snap nearby, but he doesn’t see anything. Still, he forces himself away from the tree and continues moving, back in the direction of the rift. I’m sorry it took me til now to say it. Cas, I’m so sorry.

A quick look over his shoulder shows him that he’s not being followed, and he’s near the portal. Dean isn’t here, he can feel that Dean’s not nearby, so he curls up against a tree and listens to the rest of Dean’s prayer. Man, I hope you can hear me. It’s more of a sob than an actual sentence and it breaks Castiel’s heart. He hopes Dean makes it here in time. He doesn’t have the countdown on his phone, so he has no idea how long they have before this rift closes and traps them in Purgatory again. I hope you can hear me. He hears a few more sniffles and a soft, okay and then Dean’s voice is gone from his head. He gives the blossom a quick check—smushed, but still intact—and leans his head back against the tree. All he can do now is wait and hope.

Watching them walk out of Purgatory is a sight to behold, without any of the fuss of last time around. He expects the portal to close behind them, but then it doesn’t. He keeps watching, mostly from a mix of curiosity and protectiveness, until he sees a group of Leviathan approaching it. No way in hell is he letting those things out into Dean’s world. He doesn’t even think twice before emerging from behind his tree and beheading the one closest to the rift. The other two stare at him in disbelief, even as their friend’s head reconnects to his body. It’s still disgusting to this day, at least in his opinion. Leviathan are truly gross.

“No,” one says, a short blond with wide eyes. “You’re dead, Eve told us.”

He smirks. Of course she’d tell them that. He’s her biggest threat and he’s closing in on her. She doesn’t have much time left. “Sounds like your dear ol’ mama lied to y’all. Now, you gonna scamper off back to whatever hole you crawled out of, or do I need to disconnect your heads? Permanently?”

All three sets of eyes dart to the portal he’s currently standing in front of. For a moment, he thinks they’re going to make a run for it, but they don’t. They give him one last look before they turn around and head back the way they came.

He guards the portal and thank god he does because apparently everyone and their mother knows about it. He fends off hordes of vampires and werewolves and even a couple of djinn.

“Well, well, well. Benny Lafitte, as I live and breathe. I thought you were dead.”

Benny rolls his eyes and rests his blade on his shoulder. “Gordon. I’d say it’s a pleasure to see ya again, but I’d be lyin’.”

Gordon smirks. “Why don’t you step aside, brother? I don’t belong here.”

Benny snorts. “Man, out of everyone here, you’re the one that deserves to be here the most. You’re gettin’ through that portal over my dead body.”

“Well, it’s your funeral.”

Gordon’s all uncoordinated rage and Benny has him on the ground in less than thirty seconds. Apparently, he ain’t keen to give up that quickly, his leg sweeping out to knock Benny on his feet. He rolls away from Gordon’s next kick, which only serves to infuriate the man further. Gordon’s on him is less than a second, knocking him backward and straight through the stupid portal. He jumps to his feet, ready to fight Gordon back into Purgatory, but he doesn’t get the chance. He watches, helpless, as the portal back to Purgatory blinks out of existence.

Great. Now he’s stuck here, the exact place he didn’t want to be. Guess not showing himself to Dean and Castiel didn’t really make a difference, he ended up here anyway.

The Empty is an infuriatingly boring realm. There’s nothing but blackness for as far as Jack’s eyes can see. He’s been so bored here ever since Billie left. He has no way to tell how much time has passed, nor a way to avoid sitting there and thinking about every bad thing he’s ever done. Is this how humans feel when they’re alone? It’s… disorienting.

Still, Billie had told him he had an important role yet to play, so he waits.

And waits.

He feels the shift in the air the moment it happens. Even in this void, he can still feel the powerful shifts in the atmosphere whenever Billie or the Shadow are around.

“It’s time.”

Jack turns to face her slowly, tilting his head. “Time for what?”

Billie smiles. “The End,” she replies simply, holding out her hand.

Jack looks at it for a moment. He’s not entirely sure where she’ll take him, but she’s assured him that she’s on the side of universal balance, which is currently against Chuck. She’s probably their best chance of saving the world from him.

Decision made, he takes a step forward and takes her hand, letting her pull him from the darkness.

#destiel #destiel fanfic #15x09 coda #15x09 #supernatural #spn spoilers #my writing

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chiseler · 5 years ago

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Mitchell Leisen: How’s About It?

Mitchell Leisen was a major American film director. He belongs in the first rank, not the second tier, where he has often been placed by those who value the scripts he was given by Preston Sturges and Billy Wilder and Charles Brackett more than what he actually did with those scripts. Leisen’s name was usually written in sloping cursive in his opening credits, and that set the mood for what he had to offer. His was a gentle style, a deliberately unobtrusive style, smooth and gliding, attentive to nuances, visual and emotional.

Leisen made a point of nearly always moving the camera only when it is following a character who is moving right along with it, and the edits in his movies are as invisible as possible. He made three films that are undisputed classics: Easy Living (1937), written by Sturges, Midnight (1939), written by Wilder and Brackett, and Remember the Night (1939), written by Sturges. All three of these classic Leisen movies are partly about pretending to be something you’re not in order to move up or over into another social atmosphere or class and take on a new identity, and this theme is something that always interested Leisen particularly.

He got his start making costumes and dressing sets for Cecil B. DeMille, and he also made costumes for Mary Pickford and Douglas Fairbanks. That training shows through in his later work, that sense of fantasy and beauty for its own sake. Leisen had a fetish for absolute authenticity when he did period pictures, and he took this fetish to nearly Erich Von Stroheim lengths if he had the money to spend. Remember the peacock headdress that he designed for Gloria Swanson in DeMille’s Male and Female (1919), or the sexy harem pants he put on Fairbanks for The Thief of Bagdad (1924), or the barely-there garments he designed for Claudette Colbert in The Sign of the Cross (1932) and you can get a first sense of Leisen’s aesthetic: hopeful, fantastical, erotic. And he was a pretender himself on some of these early movies because he was very skillful at making sets and crowd scenes look more opulent than they actually were given some of the budgets he had to work with.

He took the reins from nominal director Stuart Walker for two films that proved his range: Tonight Is Ours (1933), a high comedy that begins with a sexy masked ball, and The Eagle and the Hawk (1933), as grim and concentrated an anti-war film as you will find from this era. Leisen next graduated to prestige pictures like Cradle Song (1933) and Death Takes a Holiday (1934), with its high-flown Maxwell Anderson script. Leisen was fond of Death Takes a Holiday all his life, and he even wanted to re-make it in the late 1940s, but it has not held up as well as some of his lesser-known pictures from the 1930s.

After Murder at the Vanities (1934), a backstage movie with some odd musical numbers, Leisen took flight with three pictures that demonstrated the full scope of his talent. What makes a really great director, a major director? The ability to take a poor script, like the one Leisen was given for Behold My Wife! (1934), and make it into something that moves like a dream and seems inevitable. While you watch Behold My Wife!, there is a double consciousness of how outlandish and slapdash the plot and dialogue are and how Leisen transcends this through pacing, framing, and staging, so that there is always something to delight the eye. Leisen movies generally have a difficult-to-describe kind of creamy look, as if every person and table and chair were covered in the same sort of protective satin sheen.

He used a similarly fast, super-controlled pace for Four Hours to Kill! (1935), another backstage movie where Leisen himself plays the orchestra leader but you never see the numbers on stage. A kind of musical proto-noir, this movie depends on Richard Barthelmess, who is playing a criminal waiting to be taken to jail, and Leisen is alert to Barthelmess’s needs and sensitive to his big scene, where his character talks about his unhappy past. And then Leisen was given a script (by Norman Krasna) and two stars, Carole Lombard and Fred MacMurray, that were particularly congenial to his style, and the result was his first classic, Hands Across the Table (1935), a rather anguished comedy about love and the urge for security. Leisen had mastered form, and now he mastered the content that interested him, good-bad people navigating their own wants and desires and what they will do for them. For Leisen, mixed emotions are really the only emotions possible.

In all of his most characteristic films, Leisen’s characters are at a crisis point and need to decide to take a chance and see what they can get away with to become another version of themselves. There is lots of comedy in a situation like this, of course, but Leisen always hints at the dark underside of pretending. There is an American urge in these pictures that says, “What I say I am is what I am,” and that urge is usually naïve (think of early Joan Crawford heroines). Leisen looks at this urge from a height of sophistication, almost always warmly and tenderly, but sometimes he lets a really grim insight slip through. Think of Carole Lombard’s anti-social asides in Hands Across the Table, or that harrowing scene where Barbara Stanwyck goes home to her grudge-holding and cruelly puritanical mother in Remember the Night and you will feel the hurt that animates Leisen’s search for a created world of his own.

In many ways, the 1930s were Leisen’s best creative period, where he turned out beautifully balanced and finished entertainments like 13 Hours by Air (1936). He was a romantic who had a special way of visually enfolding the lovers in his movies that is almost Frank Borzage-like, and he glorifies very different women in what must be the best close-ups of their careers: look at some of the close-ups of the melancholy Sylvia Sidney in Behold My Wife! and then look at the close-ups of the wised-up Joan Bennett in 13 Hours by Air and see how Leisen gives them the same glamorizing treatment without ever losing what makes them so individual. Even pure assignments like Artists and Models Abroad (1938) glow with a kind of dreamlike assurance, as if to say, “Why shouldn’t a comedy look beautiful?”

And when Leisen had a meatier script, like Swing High, Swing Low (1937), which also starred Lombard and MacMurray, he was capable of virtuoso work that blended comedy and drama so seamlessly that it’s difficult to tell where one leaves off and the other begins. He did some Sturges-like slapstick for Easy Living, including the famous automat scene where the windows fly open and everybody grabs at the food, which was his idea. But for Remember the Night, Leisen pared down the Sturges script, cutting unnecessary scenes and verbose dialogue until he had what he wanted, a portrait of a hard-boiled woman who starts to long for the warmth of a “why not?” idealized mid-West home. Remember the Night is probably Leisen’s finest film, and a peak in his career, a comedy-drama or a dramatic comedy all whipped together until the consistency is exquisite and just right.

After the very sensitive Hold Back the Dawn (1941), a Wilder-Brackett script about a hard-boiled male gigolo (Charles Boyer) pretending to love a sheltered, repressed girl (Olivia de Havilland) until his feelings actually become genuine, Leisen’s career settled in for a few years to minor comedies, as if wartime austerity had affected his budgets, his scripts, and his imagination. In 1944, he did two movies in color, Lady in the Dark and Frenchman’s Creek, one anti-feminist and one feminist, and both rather nightmarishly disconnected and self-indulgent.

Leisen was going through a crisis in his personal life by the mid-1940s, and it showed in his work. He was mainly gay, but he didn’t want to be, and so he had married a fledgling opera singer (“a horror” according to the sharp-tongued Ray Milland) and he was carrying on a tortured affair with costumer Natalie Visart while also pursuing men. Leisen’s loyal secretary Eleanor Broder told David Chierichetti, the author of the definitive Leisen book, Mitchell Leisen: Hollywood Director, that her boss tried taking hormone shots at one point because he thought they might eradicate his homosexuality, but of course that didn’t work. Leisen lived with the pilot Eddie Anderson in the late 1930s, and Anderson left him for Shirley Ross, the actress who talk-sings “Thanks for the Memory” with Bob Hope in The Big Broadcast of 1938, an unusually sentimental scene within his work that Leisen insisted on. When that picture finished, he had a heart attack, and his health was never quite the same afterwards.

In the 1940s, after Visart had gotten pregnant with his child and lost it, Leisen took up with the dancer Billy Daniels, and his unhappiness grew. Daniels dances in what has to be Leisen’s worst feature, Masquerade in Mexico (1945), a semi-remake of Midnight that is so distracted and poorly timed that it would seem to give credence to Billy Wilder’s many complaints about Leisen over the years in interviews; if you were to watch Masquerade in Mexico right after Midnight, it would seem like a mark against Leisen as an artist in his own right rather than a servant of superior scripts where he could get them. Daniels is actually the only thing this movie has going for it: he’s an exciting dancer, and an intriguing screen presence, sexy, petulant, a little dangerous. Many in Leisen’s inner circle disliked Daniels, but maybe Masquerade in Mexico might work if it could just be Daniels dancing as Leisen watches.

The blandness of the décor in something like Suddenly It’s Spring (1947) is a real comedown from his Art Deco 1930s pictures, but Leisen rallied in this period with some of his best and most personal films, starting with Kitty (1945), a sumptuous Gainsborough period piece with all the trimmings and a Pygmalion subject that activates all of Leisen’s interest in pretending and “passing” as something you are not. Best of all from this time is Song of Surrender (1949), an uncommonly severe movie about a New England girl named Abigail (Wanda Hendrix) who finds a way out of her repressive environment by listening to music. What Abigail feels in Song of Surrender is surely what Leisen himself must have often felt as a young man growing up in the mid-West at the turn of the last century, and so this picture, which he said he didn’t much like, is his secret movie, his confession movie. It’s a great film, daringly stark and stripped-down, and it is as unerringly paced and controlled as all of his best 1930s work; there are moments when it feels like a precursor to Jane Campion’s The Piano (1993) in its insistence on the will power needed for a woman to find aesthetic and sexual fulfillment.

Leisen did an intriguing noir with Stanwyck called No Man of Her Own (1950) and an overlooked, charming adaptation of J. M. Barrie called Darling, How Could You! (1951), which is filled with longing for family life that Leisen certainly knows is a fantasy like any of his others. (How poignant it is when Joan Fontaine says in that movie that if her children are going to love her they mustn’t “think me over first.”) He spent twenty years working at Paramount Studios, and he was a creature of the studio system; when the studio system went, so did he, but not before one more diverting small musical, The Girl Most Likely (1958), which was the last feature made at RKO. “When the studio decided we no longer needed a certain department, it was shut down and if we needed something after that, we had to make do ourselves,” Leisen said. “It was really eerie.”

Ill-health and an unwarranted reputation for spending too much money kept Leisen mainly working for TV in his last years, so that he was back to low budgets and bringing in his own furniture to dress his sets. He had been fired from Bedevilled (1955) for hitting on one of the straight actors he was working with (the actor complained to MGM), and this put another shadow over his reputation. He had made Fred MacMurray’s career, but when he tried to get work as a director on MacMurray’s hit TV show My Three Sons, it was no go. “He sent me a telegram asking for the job,” MacMurray said. “He was, well, you know, a homosexual and he had gotten into some trouble on a picture he was making in Europe. With the three young boys we had working on the show, I just didn’t think it was right. So I never answered the telegram.”

It was his women who stayed loyal to Leisen in his final years, both his secretary Broder (who was a lesbian), and his old lover Natalie Visart, who had never really gotten over her love for him and came to stay with him toward the end (Visart’s son Peter was killed in a gay-bashing in the 1970s). Leisen’s responses to David Chierichetti’s questions in their interview book are unfailingly candid, insightful, and juicy, but his standing has never ascended to the level of that of Preston Sturges or Billy Wilder, even though his visual style was far more developed than theirs, and his point of view arguably more sophisticated and certainly more kind-hearted. He was a romantic with an edge of disquiet, and this made for matchlessly rich pictures, pulsing with hope and with pain.

Leisen knew about all aspects of picture making, and he has the requisite number of classics for entrance to the pantheon, plus a whole slew of other pictures of interest. He made Remember the Night and Song of Surrender. He made Midnight and Kitty. And he made Easy Living and Darling, How Could You! Those are all heights, and from different periods, and they prove the consistency of his inventiveness and the distinctiveness of his talent. His creativity came out of personal unhappiness on the one hand and unprecedented creative license and support under the old Hollywood studio system on the other. We will not see that particular combination again.

by Dan Callahan

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maydaymemer · 5 years ago

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Steam vs. Sledgehammer

Yep it’s time to review two songs in one. My favourite song ever: Steam (yes, Steam), as well as one of the iconic songs of the ‘80s: Sledgehammer. Both by Peter Gabriel, both heavily influenced by funk and both with music videos directed by the late Stephen R. Johnson.

Sledgehammer needs no introduction for anyone over 40, which means it does need an introduction here. The song is the lead single from Peter Gabriel’s 1986 pop opus “So”, and is his only American #1 (it only got to #4 in the UK, which makes me more ashamed to be from here than ever). It’s known for its pioneering stop-motion animated music video which is still well regarded today, heck it kickstarted Aardman’s career before they made Wallace and Gromit. The song is a loving tribute to Gabriel’s favourite funk and Motown songs he listened to in his youth, there’s even a funny anecodote a read about Gabriel in his early days going to a soul cafe or something and being the only white guy there. To be a fly on the wall on that day. Methinks he was there to pick up chicks, not just listen to the music, which only makes me love the guy even more to be honest.

Steam on the other hand I don’t think anyone who isn’t a Gabriel fan remembers. Sure, when it was released in 1992 it was a hit but was generally seen as a Sledgehammer II: Sledge Harder, and didn’t set anyone’s world alight. Plus, people weren’t listening to Peter Gabriel in ‘92, they were bumping Nirvana and Tupac. On the bright side we did get a fucking insane music video which I love showing to people to get a reaction out of them.

One of them highly acclaimed and the other mostly maligned, but both are typically overshadowed by their music videos. I’m here to dig into what makes both these songs great, and why they’re both intelligent, finely crafted pop songs. I’m also going to note the similarities between the two, and why I think Steam was a more than worthy follow up.

Let’s get down to the start of both songs. Sledgehammer begins with a synthesised flute that goes on for about 15 seconds, before launching into an opening tune that knocks you right off your seat like, well a sledgehammer. This sets up an appropriate atmosphere for a song that combines the clever soul with the sexy sounds of the ‘80s to create a song that transcends past dated into just a banging tune that holds up today. The song has an excellent bassline and feels simply big. Then we get Gabriel coming in with a prolonged “Heeeeeeey” followed up with a more muffled “tell me how have you been?” to take us into the first verse. The song sets a mood and it sets it well, this is bouncy and fun Peter Gabriel, not weird psycho Peter Gabriel (which is pretty much his default).

Steam, on the other hand, doesn’t introduce itself. The song just abruptly bursts into your door after a short bassline with the distinct drum and bassline with all sorts of sounds flung at you. Horns, electric guitar, you name it. Gabriel yells “Stand back! Stand back!” And you almost think “yeah maybe I should I shouldn’t really argue with Peter Gabriel”, especially in the video where he’s wearing a pimp suit to accompany this. He continues, shouting “what are these dogs doing sniffing at my feet? / They’re onto something picking up / picking up / this heat”. I still have no idea what this intro means, but then we transition into the abolsutely magnificent instrumented chorus as Peter sings “Give me Steam / and how you feel can make it real / real as anything you’ve seen / get a life / with the dreamer’s dream”. I’ve heard reviewers call this song overproduced, and I would agree the song is very maximal in terms of production, but I wouldn’t remove one instrument. The song’s various mood changes from chorus to verse to pre-and-post choruses take me where the song wants me to go emotionally every time. I find the “Give me Steam” part specifically to be rather exciting and really impressed me the first time I listened to this song, last year I believe, and it still impresses me now.

This is where we take a look at the verse structure of both songs, which are pretty much the same not just within the songs but between them. The first verses of both set up two metaphors:

“You could have a steam train / if you just lay down your tracks

You could have an aeroplane flying / if you bring your blue sky back” - From Sledgehammer

“You know your culture from your trash

You know your plastic from your cash” - From Steam

Peter then connects these to the message of the song at the end of the verse:

“All you do is call me

I’ll be anything you need” - Sledge

“Whenever heavens doors are shut / you get* them open but / I know you” - Steam (alright I’m cheating here, that’s three metaphors, but this illustrates my point better)

So as you can see this is where the two songs split off. Sure both include Peter’s patented silly sex puns, a Sledgehammer is long and hard while Steam is hot and wet, but the meanings of each song is different.

For Sledgehammer the song is about how sex can be used to communicate and brighten up the mood of someone where words simply can’t help. The philosophy of the song is that sometimes you just need some fuck. I imagine a narrative where maybe Peter and this lady friend he’s talking to through the song have just broken off some long term relationship, and they’re very good friends so they spend some time together playing with her bumper cars and his big dipper to take their minds off it. The song isn’t really about love, it’s about having fun, but as I illustrated with my interpretation it’s not about sex with someone you don’t love it’s about sex with someone you’re not IN love with. So kind of a FWB/rebound kind of thing, though not a romcom version where they get together in the third act. It’s a very different approach to an ‘Intercourse with You’ song and told in a very fun way. The song has a bounce to it and a sort of mature naivety, Peter comes across as genuinely joyful to the woman he’s narrating too, they aren’t using eachother but they’re not in a serious relationship either. Good stuff, Pete.

Steam on the other hand is about the relationship, it’s about that spark and connection with someone. Specifically it’s about a relationship where the woman is cultured, sophisticated and generally a classy lady but Peter isn’t. He’s talking himself down, except for one subject: when it comes to the lady, he knows her better than she does and that’s the most important thing of all. Maybe he knows how to please her, maybe he knows her deepest depths, maybe it’s both but the songwriting illustrates that Peter is just in awe of this woman and she might not be in awe of herself just yet. I always interpreted this as Peter writing about a relationship between classes, but in a smarter way than say Billy Joel. Peter grew up middle class but in this song it’s like he’s putting himself in the shoes of a working class guy who’s in a relationship with someone who should be out of his league, but perhaps because of those virtues have led to him knowing how to socialise he can get the depths of her heart better jan a thousand potential rich suitors and their relationship just works. I’m being a bit old school with the picture I’m painting but a genuinely smart way of basically writing Opposites Attract but without the cartoon cat (instead we get a CGI Peter Gabriel Chair, perhaps that’s not the best trade off). That’s why I love it so much, it writes a geniunely smart love song about a relationship working despite the differences which a lot of songs do but they never go into why they work together. Peter explains that while he can’t know a lot about art or money he does know a lot about humanity (and sex, as Sledge shows).

The rest of the verses follow this same formula, I’ll close the review by pointing out how the finales of both songs basically are the same again.

With the finale of Sledgehammer Gabriel refers to “shedding his skin”. He then says “this is the new stuff”, which probably sounds like a birthday suit reference to you but I have a more indirect interpretation. What I love about the line is that in a way it’s Gabriel saying “I’m the shit!”, predicting that the song will become ‘the new stuff’ as it did. Which is why it’s one of the things I do prefer over Steam, which goes for a more obvious orgasm innuendo:

“Roomshake, earthquake

Find a way to stay awake

It’s gonna blow, it’s gonna break

This is more than I can take!”

Tho back to praising Steam, it is my favourite song after all, I think that song does pace itself better. Steam is a minute longer and has way more variety, with a lot of change ups with an occasional pre-chorus peppered in. It’s a longer song that feels shorter and endlessly replayable. Granted a listen to both of these songs an unhealthy amount of times, so I wouldn’t recommend any of you reading this skip out on them. Listen to them however you can, they’re a great time. Heck, buy the albums they come from because the rest of the songs on there are great too.

Thanks for reading this review. It’s a very quick one drafter of hopefully many that I’m posting to sharpen my writing skills. Hope you enjoyed and I’ll make sure to improve these over time. I have ideas for little bite size and more cohesive reviews of the following songs: Uh Huh, Girl, Babooshka

*note: thought he sung “kick” but apparently not. Personally I think “kick” has a better kick to it, funny enough, in terms of annunciation.

#peter gabriel #steam #song analysis #review #music #peter gabriel steam #peter gabriel sledgehammer #petr fuckriel #sledgehammer

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