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too-scared-to-do-this · 3 years ago

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Prestige

Chapter twelve - No

Sanders side fanfiction

Idea by: @hestianerd1

Wordcount: 3490

Pairings: Prinxiety (as always)

TW: cursing and a bunch of friendly competition, also there is this thing about being forced to wear clothes that they are not totally comfortable wearing... I feel like that’s all, but as always, do let me know if anything bothers you :3

The summery of the whole story: Prestige. Such a simple construct. All you have to do is act the way you want people to perceive you, keep up the image, wear a big proud smile and never ever dare make a mistake. That’s why Weltingston Heights University is such a well known school. Everybody knows that anyone who got in must have some prestige tied to their name. Educational records, family history, or even literal fame. So why not treat students the same way? Because what’s a little more pressure on their young and strong bones?

But prestige and image are precious things. You slip up even the tiniest bit, step out of the line you drew for yourself and it’s all gone. So now that the pressure is on, and everyone already knows their place in this small circle of society, only one question remains. How far are they willing to go to keep the false image up?

(Or: Very over-dramatically with a noticeable amount of sarcastic undertone: "Oh my god! They were roommates!")

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Chapter twelve - No

“No.”

“Come on maaan. You can keep the hoodie for all I care. Just put it on.” Cassie sighed exasperatedly. They were currently standing in her room, Virgil staring at the clothing hanging from her hands.

“What even makes you think that it’ll fit me?” Virgil razed an eyebrow and pointed at the material with a doubtful finger.

Cass looked at it, then back at him with a confident smile. “Well. You’re like my height. Skinnier than me, so… It’ll probably hang a little, though.”

V’s eyebrows knitted together in whatever emotion he was currently feeling. Not even he could tell what that was, but it wasn’t excitement. Turning to the mirror by his side he eyed the make-up Ro’s little sister already forced up on him. Not anything too much, just some mascara, shades an eyeliner. She even went with the emo look he was sporting thanks to his deep eye bags. (Let it be known, that they’ve gotten a little better since he’s been living with the Velez’s. A few good nights of sleep next to Ro and they suddenly seem to be disappearing. Who would have thought.)

To be honest, he kind of liked it - the make-up, he means. Cass was really great with a brush for someone who hadn’t warn make-up once since they met (which wasn’t that long, to be fair). Even the tiny details she did - the magical way the liner curled; not in a ‘normal’ way, but rather in a what seemed like a teeny-tiny butterfly wind. And of course, the glitter. The small amount of glitter she used did it for Virgil. He’s eyelids freaking sparkled!

He looked back at her with lowered lids. “I’m not doing it.”

“Seriously?” her shoulders sunk. Expression all ‘I’m so going to force you into this if you don’t wear it willingly and I so don’t feel like doing that…’.

Honestly, our boy should have been shitting his pants at this point. Because he knew she would go through with it. There is not a single person scarier than Cassandra Velez when she wants something. And believe me, she will get it. No matter the cost. But our boy was just as much stubborn as stupid. So he set his jaw and said: “No.”

The almost taller girl pinched the bridge of her nose tiredly. Then looked up at V, sad resignation in her eyes. “You’re choice dude.”

There’s no way to describe what went down in the next ten minutes… Virgil had no idea what was coming his way.

He ended up standing perfectly still, eyes wide with full on terror, in front of the mirror, as Cass perfected the hem of the dress and some random details on him. Whistling and smiling as if a fifteen-year-old girl force-dressing a twenty-three-year-old man into a dress was a normal part of her day.

He didn’t even dare to speak after all the horror that just went down…

Cass stood up, grinning widely. “Great! My work here is done.” she dusted of her hands as if there was actually something on them. Virgil was pretty sure there wasn’t. “What do you think?”

She stepped away and for the first time Virgil saw himself in a dress. A very fancy rufly dress, might he add. He swallowed. “Ahm… I think it’s… nice?”

“I do too.” The girl nodded proudly. But then her eyes fixated on something above his face. Another wave of fear run down V’s back. He froze as she slowly walked over to him and wordlessly played around with his purple locks.

She pulled her hand way and smiled. “Now your perfect.” she nodded to herself. “I’ll go announce the beginning, stay here until I call your name, got it?”

V bit his glossed lips and nodded obediently. Cass did too and walked over to the door. Pulled it open, stepped out and just before the wood would fully fall closed, she peaked her head back in. “Oh and one more thing.” she looked straight at V, look as seriously (and menacing) as before. “Don’t you dare fuck up my work.” And with that she threw a giggly smile, as innocent as a six-year-old and with an ‘Okay, bye.’ left.

Virgil stood there for a long while until his heart finally stopped trying to murder him by escaping through his chest.

Meanwhile both brothers were in they separate rooms doing all the stuff they needed to feel as beautiful as possible. Not that Remus cared how he looked, but this was a competition after all. And who would pass up a chance to crush Roman’s massive ego a little?

Roman was more focused on getting his liner right. He was ready half an hour ago, but then he noticed that his right eye had a thicker red line then his left. And all hell broke loose.

Makeup-wipes all over the ground, brushes and liners and lipsticks and shadows all around the place. Literally. They even ended up on the ceiling-lamp (don’t ask Roman how that happened).

So when Cassie called out for everyone to gather, he was just so-so done. He told her off and asked for five more seconds, but the little annoying monster barged in - no regards for privacy - and literally dragged him away from his make-shift make-up station. He just barely managed to pull out the line (thankfully perfectly) and drop the closed bottle of liquid-liner onto his bed.

His little sister dragged him out into the living room, instructions being, everybody ways with closed eyes. Because we love dramatics in this family, don’t we? Oh and, V still wasn’t allowed out of her room, obviously.

But now, that they were all here, Cass stepped aside, sitting down at the bar and grinned. “Let the games begin.”

Both opened their eyes, surveying the competition, before sitting down on the prepared stools.

The self-acclaimed judge walked into the middle of the room (questioning why the hell did she sit down in the first place) and gave a big grin. Holding onto a hair-brush she gave an expert TV grin. “I welcome you to the fifth annual Velez fashion show! Another wonderful year has passed and here we are gathering again on the beautiful occasion.”

Roman looked around a little nervously, trying to find his roommate. But he had no idea where he was… His shoulders sagged a little, but this was a competition. He could let anybody know he was off his game.

“Today are competitors are the always charming, always smiling fairytale-like prince, Roman Velez!” she called out, pointing to her brother, who stood up with a big TV-grin of his own and waved at no one. Remus clapped enthusiastically, following Cassie’s lead.

“And give a warm welcome to our next competitor! You know him, you love him! It’s the murder-driven always laughing crazy green monstrosity, Remus Velez!”

Roman clapped a slow dramatic clap. Remus turned a playful glare at him.

Cass just smiled at this even more. She knew what was coming next, but they didn’t. And that power was something she lowed immensely. “But that’s not all that we have for today, ladies and gentleman and everyone above! No.” she shook her head seriously. “Today, on our yearly show, we have a special guest. He’s always broody, always moody, loves his hoodie and purple - give a big applause for our special guest, Virgil Riet!!!”

That’s when the door to Cassie’s door opened and a very self-conscious Virgil stepped into the living-room light. Ro’s hoodie pulled tight around his chest to cover him up as much as possible.

Roman’s eyes widened. he didn’t expect V to look that great in a dress. He didn’t even expect him to be wearing a dress let alone a full face of make-up! his tiny form fully swallowed in his hoodie, the bottom of cases dress peaking out. Stocking covering his slim legs. And the make-up. the make-up! (He wondered if v was scared for life from that experience…)

“Come in, come in! Sit down with us.” Cass ushered him to his prepared seat. “You’re our special guest today, boy, don’t shy away from attention. Our show will begin shortly.”

V pulled hard on the zipper-lines of his new-found-favorite-hoodie ad walked over to sit between the staring twins.

“You look like a hooker!” Remus observed with a happy grin.

“No he doesn’t!” the remaining siblings piped up, both a tad bit too defensive. One because this was her work Rem was insulting and the other because this was his friend/roommate/possibly-giant-crush he was insulting.

And Virgil just shrunk into himself even more. He didn’t even dare to look up. Otherwise, he would see that both boys looked just as much fancy as he did. There was no need to be ashamed.

“Alright, ladies and gentlemen and everyone above! First up is our lovely nut-job, Remus. Show us what you got.”

rem immediately got up, walking the space of the living room as if it was a runway.

“Our beloved green monster, never seems to not surprise! This special day he went with his signature color-combo, wearing a black spiked leather jacked over a purposefully torn dark-green V-neck. Chains are a must with this man, hanging from his neck just as from his bedazzled black-washed torn jeans. Combat-boots to top it off. And let’s no forget the plethora of leather bracelets and of course the make-up he is sporting.” Cass commented.

Remus did a pirouette, meant as a mockery of Roman, obviously and bowed deeply, signature grin not missing.

“Great round today, Remus. I loved all the details - the drumstick in you pocked especially. You get an eight from me. Virgil, our guest judge -“ she turned to him. “-what do you say?”

Virgil blinked a little, trying to figure out what role he was playing in this insanity. “Ehrm…” he cleared his throat. “Seven…?”

“Aaaalright! You, Rem, gained fifteen points! Great job! Let’s see out next competitor.”

Rem sat down proudly, smirking at his brother. “Top this bro-Ro.”

“Oh, just wait and see.” he smirked back a little too confident compared to how he felt inside. he was about to go parade his ass in front of Virgil. His Virgil. this was going to be the end of him…

“Roman Velez, come up here, dude! Let’s see what you’ve got!” Cass stepped aside.

He stood up, as graceful as ever and glided over to the big carped - the designated cat-walk.

“Oooh, nice. Today our fairy prince came up with the perfect outfit to represent him. Dress as flowy as ever, red like his fierce fiery eyeliner! And the white stilts! Love the boa Ro, but that was the winners two years ago - are you recycling ideas, bro?”

Ro gave a triumphant grin and stretched his leg out from the thigh-slit that run ap his long sparkly dress. “Not at all, Cass. No angels today. We’re playing dirty.”

“I see, I see. The devil today then, hah?” she grinned at the fishnets that pocked out. On the sidelines, Virgil went completely red.

Ro ran a hand through his perfectly stilled hair to reveal small horns and grinned at the judge. “Full-on, sis.”

“Nice touch. I like it.”

Ro did a fancy stop, posed, and blew a kiss at Virgil. Very much feeling himself in the element. The poor short guy almost fainted at the sight. You have no idea the confidence that radiated off of Roman. The happiness. And Virgil reveled in it all, trying to swallow as much of it as possible.

“Alright people. Time for judging! I love you Roman, but today was a little disappointing. Although I loved the never-before seen make-up on you and the fishnet twist, I just don’t see you winning today, I’m sorry. I give you six points.”

“Thank you judge Cassandra.” Roman nodded solemnly. It gnawed at him a little.

“But don’t sweat it, dear, because there’s one more judge waiting for his turn.” Cass winked at V. He was a little (a lot) out of it, jaw almost literally slack open. “So, what do you say? tell me, what did you like about this contestant?”

“I-“ he swallowed. “I liked the slit…”

Jesus! did he just say that?!

Remus burst out laughing next to him, cackling his ass off.

Red as a bell-pepper Virgil shrunk back into his seat. “Nine.”

“Uuh, look at this, ladies and gentlemen and everyone above! For the first time in years, we have a tie!” Cass stepped back into the middle, moderating the whole thing as before. She would be an excellent moderator, Virgil though.

“I congratulate both contestants! they both did a great job! But don’t go anywhere, people, because we have our guest here to show off my stilling job! Come up here, Virge. Let’s see what the contestants have to say!”

Roman was already gone the moment he walked into the room. But seeing V take a deep breath and standing up onto the ‘runway’ in his loose jacked draped over a black sport-dress with a white strip on the sides and his black sneakers he might have just died right on the spot.

“Today, our lovely college boy sports my favorite tube dress, hugging him in all the right places. I’m literally jealous how good it looks on him! Better on him then me! Unfair! But look at his gorgeous face and the black butterfly-winged liner. I even stilled your hoodie in, Ro.” she winked at him.

Ro just wordlessly nodded, ogling V with big dreamy eyes. “I…can see…”

“Also, notice the earrings. I want praise for that, because getting those on him was a fight!”

“Oh my fuck! Did she pull the whole thing on you?” Remus burst out laughing once again.

V was already opening his mouth to deny all of it, but the little snitch beat him to it: “Yes. Yes, I did.” His head fell low, cheeks pricking red. This was too embarrassing…

Cass cackled at the sigh, as the witch she was and turned back to their audience. “Alright boys, our shy contestant won’t stand much longer. Show him some love - how many points would you give him?”

Remus leaned in, hands on knees. Eyes thin as slits, running over every Cassie-made detail of his attire. He then looked at the expectant designer/moderator and leaned back all un-Remus-like (all serious and shit). Twirled his mustache between two fingers. “You look like a bitch.”

“That’s what I was going for, thank you.” Cass smiled. “Points?”

“Nine.”

Little sister literally jumped up with a happy fist in the air. This was her best outfit by far. And she was too happy to dwell on the fact that it looked way better on his tiny ass then it ever would on her.

Don’t get her wrong, she was almost as skinny as Virgil, but as curvy as humanly possible. And although the dress looked good on her, this kind of combo just wouldn’t. And that made her sad. But then again, she wouldn’t pull of her brothers’ outfits either. You needed that personality for those. And boobs. She didn’t have those either. (Not that the boys had any…)

Roman sat in his chair too scared to even open his mouth. Blatantly standing at the slowly crumbling V. He could see the tiny rapid movements of his fingers even through the fabric layer of Ro’s hoodie. And the evading looks he gave everything else but the ‘judges’.

He wondered what he was thinking. Because Roman sure as hell wasn’t thinking straight. No PG13 thought in his head.

But he couldn’t say that out loud now, could he? So, he decided to do the best thing he could - act. He leaned back just as his brother did, legs and arms crossed, a surveying look on his face. “You did well today, sis. But I feel like those shoes could have goon a different way…”

Not really. he liked them a lot. He wished V would wear dresses more often. It really looked good on him.

“None of mine fit him! this man has impossibly small feet!” the designer protested exasperatedly. Virgil turned a deep red at that. She was right… She made him try on he heals but they ended up being a bit too big…

“Hon, we both know it’s not his feet that’s the problem. Your elephant shoes wouldn’t even fit me.” Remus chimed in as always. His comment very appreciated.

“Go to hell, Remus! My feet aren’t that big!” Cassie glared at her brother.

Roman just smirked. “Alright. Otherwise, I like your combination. I give you a nine as well.”

“Oh my god, ladies and gentleman and everyone above! I guess we have a winner then! For the first time in three years, our humble moderator wins the annual Velez fashion show, placing her design at a towering eighteen points!” She grinned at no-one in-particular. then she turned back to her brothers and smirked. “You can suck it losers! Ha!”

By the time she was doing her little victory dance, Virgil had scrambled back into his seat, folding back into himself.

“And this is why we never let her win.” Roman grumbled to himself, watching his little sister dance around like a maniac.

“She get’s it from you.” V shrugged.

“What?” Ro turned on him with wide, fake-surprised, fake-offended eyes.

But the darkling just shrugged. “You heard me.”

It wasn’t long after that the four had shared a trophy ice-cream bowl (Cass didn’t want to share, but she was still the youngest and didn’t have much choice). Now they were all in their respective rooms, trying to get rid of the make-up and all the unnecessary layers of clothing.

Virgil was pacing around Ro’s room, too hopped up on nervous energy and embarrassment to sit down. Already out of the dress, but still in Ro’s oversized hoodie and comfy joggings (also Ro’s, by the way - they scrunched up at the bottom in the most adorable way). He was barefoot so every step was audible on the hardwood floor.

Roman was at his little make-shift station washing off the make-up. Virgil had already done so - even though it was done kind of shitty-ly.

“You looked really grate today.” Ro commented, smearing the beautiful liner he worked so hard on.

His roommate froze in his tracks. Cheeks pink. “You think so?”

“Very much. You should wear dresses more often. And make-up suits you, though I think your face is pretty enough without it.”

He just threw that out there, while looking like a panda from the smudges. As if this wasn’t one of the nicest things a human being has ever said to V. The guy couldn’t even wait to be finished with what he was doing!

Virgil stood there, shell shocked, face redder than a tomato for the hundredth time today. “Thanks… I guess…?”

“Oh, you’re very welcome!” Ro turned around in his stool, grinning brightly. And that’s when he noticed the very obvious smudges that were still on V’s pretty little face. He bit back a snickered. “Come over hear.”

Virgil immediately went even redder and that made Ro laugh. “Oh, don’t be stupid. Just come here.”

The shorter did as he was told, carefully walking over to his friend. Ro patted the bed next to him and v sat down obediently. “You obviously never wore make-up before.” he snickered.

V didn’t even dare as much as take a breath. Because Ro’s hand was inching towards his face. A cotton swab in his hand. And suddenly he was holding his chin so delicately, washing off the remains of his black mascara and liner.

Electricity sprung from the pales their skin connected. And Virgil couldn’t help but stare at those beautiful green eyes that were so focused on his hands.

His gaze slipped from them to the dark, lipstick bit lips, caught between Ro’s teeth. He was chewing on them subconsciously, the way he always was when he was focused.

It scared Virgil how much he waned to taste those lips. To ease the pain they were in with his own. And it also scared him how much of his attention he wanted the moment he walked out on the make-shift stage. How his focus was solely on his words and face and eyes and expression and what he thought about him.

Oh, how it drove him crazy, the thought that Roman could like him in a dress. And that he thought his face was more beautiful without make-up.

How easy it would be just to lean in and steal that sweet kiss. How easy it would be to just place his hand on his, stopping the careful motion and take what he’s been wanted for weeks now.

How easy would be to just-

Virgil’s lips collided with Roman’s and everything around him ceased to exist.

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Oooooooooooh! Thins are going downnnnnn!!!! (About time after twelve chaps XD)

I won’t even apologize because this disappearing will be somewhat normal from now on. (School’s kicking my ass...) Let’s just be happy I finished this chap :D But as compensation, I’m making art for this one. Three pieces of (hopefully) colored art, so stay tuned ;D

But I do hope you enjoyed this mostly meaningless chap XD <3

Read ya <3 ;*

Tag list:

@a-formless-entity

@cirishere

@ray-does-stuff

@lovelivingmydreams

@mothman-juicy-ass

@akatsuki-no-katira

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rialynne · 5 years ago

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Little Women Review

I’m feeling incredibly motivated to do this so here we go. To set it up, yes I read little women as a kid and I saw the 1994 version years ago prior to my first viewing. I watched the 1933 and 1949 versions and the 1994 version again before the second viewing.

TLDR: Go watch this Movie I love it, imma buy this blu ray. To me despite structural changes this is the definitive movie adaptation of Little Women.

So initial personal reasons why I’ve always enjoyed this story is that it takes place in Mass; my cousins live in Concord, I grew up in New England and they definitely filmed in New England cause certain scenes. We still have old style buildings around like they have in the film and the landscape, especially for scenes in the fall were absolutely beautiful. Marmee even name drops my home state at one point so shout out there.

Greta Gerwig did an absolutely fantastic job with the adapted screenplay of this movie and I am quite the fan of her decision to split up the structure of the novel and create more flash back sequences to emphasize different events that took place and how that impacted characters. I think the decision to film with a yellow warm tone in the past compared with a blue, cool tone in the adulthood scenes was a smart move as a visual way to explicitly indicate which timeline we are in. The fashion of the ladies and the hairstyles definitely did help with the timeline as well. I also love how they designed the girls hair style and clothing when they were younger to have a piece of Marmee’s style with them to signify a piece of Marmee is in each of her daughters. I also really loved the way that scenes played out, how they were shot, how when a bunch of them where showing conversations that could happen in real life. The dynamics of the march sisters remind me of my own family and there are a few scenes where there was like multiple conversations going on at once and I loved that. Also I love the sound track its on par with the 2005 Pride & Prejudice soundtrack.

For the more minor roles:

Meryl Streep did her thing as Aunt March and was quite hilarious, I loved how she was like no kisses plz and her whole you need to marry wealthy and I didn’t get married cause I’m rich bit. Mr. Lawrence has a beautiful character arc especially with Beth. He did so well with that small role and he really made you feel for the loss of his daughter. John Brook was the sweet respectful man for his wife. Friedrich Bhaer was good as well. Not as many scenes of him as I was previously expecting but I bought the connection he and Jo had and he definitely proved to be an intellectual match for him.

Laura Dern was an excellent Marmee. She really brought the presence that she was the giving, calming presence for all her daughters, especially for Jo. I absolutely love the conversations she had with Jo about her always being angry and for talking to Jo about her not really being in love with Laurie. I felt like that conversation is a really important lesson for everyone to determine if they want to marry someone, to make sure they do marry some one cause they do truly love them and not cause they want to be loved. Mr. Dashwood, the new york city publisher was also a great addition to this story in terms of representing the way publishers were back in the day.

I loved how connected they made all the March sisters feel. They really did make them all feel like one unit in their younger years, that it hurt much more when they are older when their apart. I really Loved watching Jo especially interact with all her sisters and seeing how the dynamics changed over the years. With Meg she relates to her being the oldest siblings and the scene where they talk about their different goals in life right before Meg gets married. Its a lovely scene indicating not one’s goals in life are better than another persons goals. I Love how she cares so much for Beth and looks out for her. The dynamics of Jo and Amy’s relationship was fascinating to watch cause it reminded me a lot of me and my sister and how we bickered a lot, but still deeply care for one another, and eventually were able to respect one another.

I knew going into this movie that Saoirse Ronan was going to kill it as Jo, and she flipping delivered. I love her portrayal as Jo where she is not as too much as the 1933 and 1949 portrayals and yet was very ambitious and likable, very similar to the 1994 portrayal from Winona Ryder. I loved her speech with Marmee about how great women are and how she doesn’t have a life goal to get married but how she is very lonely. That hit hard. Her negotiating for her royalties to her book was a great addition to the end of the story. I feel as if she plays a certain type of character in her movies, but she does it sooo well and in a way that no one else can do justice for it. The relationship between Jo and Amy and Jo and Laurie were great to watch. Amy and Jo are so similar besides a few key differences, and those differences help make their tension believable and turns them into remarkable characters.

I love the take on Beth in this adaptation. They still play her as a sweet and caring individual, one that ultimately leads to her getting sick and dying, but they give her a little more quirky traits and have her say some funny one liners. She has a lot of subtle moments with Jo and Amy especially that makes their reactions to her death feel so real. Emma Watson did a much better job than i expected and gave a surprising amount of depth to Meg. I did really enjoy the sub plot of her buying that fabric for a dress. $50 back then was like close to $1000, and really does show her struggle with wanting to have nice things once in a while. Her speech to Jo about her desires to be a wife and a mother is beautiful. Meg I feel is a difficult role to play due to her calm presence and lack of a super extroverted like personality and Emma made it her own.

Timothee Chalamet is a fantastic Laurie. He did well in balancing Laurie’s immature and lazy side to him while making him endearing. Seeing his love for the March family grow over time was beautiful. His relationship with Jo and Amy were awesome. With Jo, they are a great example of a platonic friendship, especially from when this book was published. I really loved the rejected proposal on the hill. You can see Jo still resisting adulthood still from her sister’s wedding, even when Laurie proposes I think she sees that as the end of childhood for her. Along with that she never had an interest to get married and expresses that she doesn’t love him like that and why they wouldn’t make a good match. The argument doesn’t feel like unrequited love but more like two best friends having a disagreement. His scenes with Amy also highlight his path to adulthood and him learning about love in the process.

AMY MARCH FINALLY GOT HER DUE! About damn time she did. Amy is my favorite character from this adaptation and is the one that surprised me the most. Lord FLORENCE PUGH needs to get a damn nomination because she was fucking amazing. For me she was able to convincingly play a young and adult Amy so well. Amy is a woman who knows what she wants in life and is very determined to get them and work within the current societal circumstances she is in. She is able to push her ego aside to get what she wants. She is so cheeky and energetic when she is younger but becomes more refined and tactful when older. Her burning Jo’s book did indicate her jealousy of her sister and the immaturity of her emotions that over time she has a grip on more as an adult. Her relationship with Aunt March indicates the idea and pressure she has to take care of the rest of her family. When she has her economic proposition speech, you really see how this is adding so much pressure on her, pressure that does influence her choices and behavior later on.

But, my absolute favorite part about Amy’s development over the movie was her relationship with Laurie. I’m so happy Greta really took the time to flush out this relationship. I really love these two together. They are both a really great example of love that evolves over time. The little tid bits in the past with the small moments of Amy and her small crush over Laurie: THE FOOT MOLD, the way young Amy looks at Laurie, her drawing of him at the beach while flirting with Fred Vaughn, talking about how hot he is as a half Italian. All of that was perfection. Everything in Paris with these too was also sooo fantastic. I love it that prim and proper 20 year old lady Amy turns into a kid again when she sees Laurie and just jumping and hugging him, and then Laurie is all like you’re beautiful. when she invites him to the ball and he kisses Aunt March. Her being all like “its Laurie!” and looking back at him with that damn smile, the things that make my heart melt. With Amy and Laurie knowing each other for so long, Amy is able to be real with him and call him out throughout their time in Paris, mainly at the ball when his drunken fuckboi ass waltz in. Also The PAINTING ROOM, lawrd. Amy still shitting on Laurie for his behavior, their conversation about love, Amy’s speech on economic proposition, THE UNBUTTONING OF THE PAINTING SMOCK (that absolutely rivals the Pride & Prejudice 2005 hand touch in terms of sexual tension), Amy being able to be her true self around Laurie, Laurie telling Amy “You look beautiful...you are beautiful” (SWOOON). Then when they at the park: Amy scolding him for being lazy and not taking charge and being responsible, Amy drawing him again and showing him the older picture, Laurie telling Amy not to marry Fred “don’t marry him. Why? you know why.”, Amy realizing what hes implying and being all like Naw don’t you dare fam I’ve always been second to Jo “I won’t do it. Not when I have spent my entire life loving you.”. Laurie finally grew a pair and went off to London to make something of himself and Amy turning down Fred’s proposal realizing she wants to marry for love. Them reuniting in Paris after Beth dies, and being alike i wont let you travel alone even if you despise me, which Amy says she doesn’t despise him. And she states she aint marrying Fred and then rambles on and LAURIE KISSES HER GOD BLESS HE DO LOVE HER. and wow. Their love story is one of the most satisfying love story arcs I’ve seen in a long time.

Any ways that’s my long ass Review of Little Women 2019. GO watch it in theaters if you can. I will buy it and stream it when it comes out of theaters. This is the definitive adaptation for me and I think it will hold up well as an amazing period drama for years to come.

#little women #little women 2019 #jo march #amy x laurie #amy march #laurie #theodore lawrence #beth march #marmee #meg march #movie review

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halseyhazzard · 4 years ago

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The Redemption of Judee Sill

Halsey Hazzard, fall 2018

for a writing class on pop culture criticism “So much sensationalist bullshit has been written about Judee Sill (by people who never knew her) focusing on her days as a hooker and a junkie.” So begins Pat Thomas’s interview with Tommy Peltier, a longtime friend and collaborator of Sill’s, in the liner notes to the recently and lovingly compiled “Songs of Rapture and Redemption: Rarities & Live.” He’s not wrong; in nearly all of the writing on Sill, her music, an inimitable blend of gospel, folk and country at once bluesy and baroque, plays second fiddle to the stranger- and sadder-than-fiction story of her all-too-brief life. Her eponymous 1971 debut and 1973’s Heart Food were met with praise from critics and her fellow songwriters alike; in 1973 Steve Holden called Judee a “most gifted artist, one who continues to promise almost more than I dare hope for.” Unfortunately — for Sill and for those who loved her, and for those of us who love her music — much of that promise never came to pass. She died in obscurity in 1979, leaving behind an unfinished third record and quietly ascending to the pantheon of young, brilliant musicians who died too soon.

It’s hard to write about Sill without relying on sensationalist bullshit. I suppose in writing this at all I’m contributing to the problem, but like so many others, I have joined the ranks of Sill’s devoted disciples, compelled to tell and retell her story to rectify fate’s perceived cruel disservice to a great talent. What emerges is not always a faithful portrait of the complicated artist Sill was, but rather a shifting and sometimes contradictory fable that cements Sill’s status as a legend — not, as she might have hoped, as “an extremely famous or notorious person,” but rather as the subject of a “story sometimes popularly regarded as historical but unauthenticated.”

The story goes something like this: Judee Sill was born Judith Lynne Sill to an average, unhappy middle class household in Los Angeles in 1944. She fell in with a rough crowd, got married, committed a series of crimes, got addicted to various drugs, went to jail, got married again. Eventually she cleaned up her act, put the gospel licks she’d learned in reform school to good use, and became the first act signed to David Geffen’s Asylum label. She put out two albums of intricate songs that married earthly desire and longing for heavenly salvation, populated with lonely cowboy types and vigilantes that sometimes seemed strikingly similar to Jesus. For a few shining years it seemed like Sill had made it. It soon became clear (the story goes) that fame was not what fate had in store for her. Until 2003, when Rhino issued Judee Sill and Heart Food on CDs for the first time as part of its Handmade series, Sill was “[u]nlamented and all but forgotten.” These are the words of Barney Hoskyns, who in a 2004 Guardian profile declared “[t]he tragic Judee Sill is well overdue for (re)discovery.” Since then, interest in Sill’s life and music has steadily increased thanks to a series of posthumous reissues and releases: 2005’s “Dreams Come True,” a two-disk set of unreleased recordings mixed by Jim O’Rourke (Sonic Youth, Wilco); Live in London: The BBC Recordings 1972-1973, released in 2007; and “Chariot of Astral Light,” an intimate collaboration with aforementioned Tommy Peltier recorded in the ‘70s and finally released in 2004.

In a review of the 2004 Intervention reissue of Judee Sill titled “The Judee Sill Cult Continues, This Time at 45RPM,” Michael Fremer of Analogplanet writes, “sometimes "legends" are created and nurtured simply by tragic circumstances. In Judee Sill's case add wasted talent and unfulfilled great promise that add up to a movie worthy story.” Sill’s life has yet to inspire a movie (although a seemingly-deserted IMDB page indicates at least one attempt at a documentary), but songwriter Laura Veirs’ “Song for Judee,” renders the Judee Sill legend in sparse yet cinematic detail. In it, Veirs’ voice echoes on top of warm, jangling guitars, the apparently upbeat melody betrayed by the sadness of the story it tells:

“You wrote “The Kiss” and it is beautiful

I can listen again and again

You never really got a break

From the car wrecks and the pain”

The crux of the Judee Sill legend is captured in these lines, which immediately identify Sill’s work with the tragic events of her life. Sill’s music is mentioned in Veir’s lyric but once, and only glancingly; it’s not even clear “The Kiss” is a song, or “Judee” a songwriter. Veirs’ appreciation for her music is given is as pretext for why the listener should care about Sill’s life, but it’s clear the main attraction here is tragedy. The rest of this atypical ode is not praise, but a retelling, addressed to Sill herself, of key moments in the legend of her life. What emerges is a tellingly concise fable that identifies Sill with the lonely phantom cowboys who populate her lyrical landscape.

Veirs appears to have lifted her narrative and several phrases from the BBC documentary. She mines in particular the commentary from Peltier, who says Sill was his best friend and shares the insights that would come to compose Veirs’ chorus: “You loved the Sons of the Pioneers and the Hollywood cowboy stars/you were just trying to put a hand to where we are.” She also borrows, nearly word-for-word, an introduction Judee gave during one of her London radio performances in 1972, describing her time “living in a ‘55 Cadillac, five people sleeping in shifts.” This almost creates an intimacy with Sill, whom Veirs had never met; however, there remains an insurmountable distance. Sill had been dead 35 years — as long as she was alive — by the time this ode was composed. While Veirs hints at Sill’s troubles in the first verse, only in the last verse does she make explicit what happened: “They found you with a needle in your arm, beloved books strewn ‘round at your feet”. The revelation gives the chorus retroactive prophetic relevance. The past tense, once wistful, is now crushing.

Her death, like her life, became part of the legend. There are general points of agreement: she had been in several car accidents, was using heroin again, and died of an overdose just after Thanksgiving 1979. Everything else is less clear. Though her death certificate reports she was found dead in her house in North Hollywood, a persistent rumor suggested she had disappeared to Mexico to live out her final days. Her death was reported as a suicide, but family members and friends maintain that the note found near her, a characteristic musing on death and redemption, was an idea for a song.

The title of a 2014 BBC Radio documentary by Ruth Barnes says it all: “The Lost Genius of Judee Sill.” Sill’s genius is preceded by its lostness. Sill herself comes last. Her music is mentioned too, of course. They quote Sill’s self-description of her work as “country-cult-baroque” and her professed influences, Bach and Pythagoras. (In some versions of the quote, Ray Charles is thrown in.) Yet every time, it seems, someone brings up that she wrote “Jesus Was a Crossmaker,” about JD Souther, that Graham Nash produced it. She was the inaugural artist on David Geffen’s Asylum, we’re told, .She opened for Crosby Stills and Nash, and Cat Stevens, and Gordon Lightfoot — and so on. These revelations are usually accompanied by astonishment at the fact that she failed to find the commercial success of her peers, despite her comparable — perhaps superior — talents.

Many have offered explanations about how this happened. There is a general consensus that her falling-out with Geffen played a role. It’s not exactly clear what happened. The word “faggot” was involved, but whether it was said live or on the radio, in reference to Geffen himself or a pair of his pink shoes, is up for debate. Whatever she said severed their relationship. Some contend that she may have been in love with him, and was hurt when he spurned her advances. Others point out that she was growing frustrated with what she saw as his lack of promotion for her music. By this point, she was already making no secret of her disdain for the “snotty rock bands” she had to open for, and I doubt this did her any favors.

The contradictions in people’s stories exacerbate the larger-than-life quality of her life and times, as do the many cliches used to tell her story. Headlines variously declare her “a star that fame forgot,” “L.A.’s doomed lady of the canyon who lost her genius to drugs,” a “mystic” who “walked among us.” The human Judee Sill is lost somewhere beneath this sensationalism. It is no wonder why her friends and family members, Tommy Peltier chief among them, feel so compelled to set the record straight by providing their version of events. In his remarks in “Songs of Rapture and Redemption,” Peltier is quick to discourage speculation about her drug use and past prostitution, declaring instead “She was just the most beautiful person.”

“Beautiful,” you may recall, was the only word Laura Veirs could come up with to describe “The Kiss.” When I first heard “The Kiss,” I was immediately struck by how inadequate the word was to describe what I was hearing. The song showcases the best of her efforts to induce mathematically precise intervals into intricate melodies that aren’t so much heard as felt. Her lyrics, confusing the sacred and profane, ride the thin ridge between love and logic, devotion and desperation. Over shifting and plaintive piano Sill sings a eulogy to stars bursting in the sky and begs a lover — god? — to come and hold her “while you show me how to fly.” I first heard “The Kiss” in a YouTube video, one of few that survives of her performing, whose introduction insists that she herself was determined to be a successful musician. Ironically, the video shows precisely why perhaps she couldn’t be: severe and guileless, Sill hunches over the piano as if it were all that exists, engrossed in the song’s intense and uncommercial emotional intensity.

Sill’s idiosyncrasies are on full display in “Songs of Rapture and Redemption”, a compilation whose greatest strength is its commitment to capturing the artist and all her contradictions in her own words. The sleeve features a candid photograph of a smiling Sill, alongside several of her paintings and drawings. The tracks included are a combination of live recordings, demos, and studio outtakes that lay bare the deceptive complexity of her compositions. In the Boston Music Hall performance that opens the record, Sill, armed only with an acoustic guitar, tells the audience “I’m going to sing you a few little songs before David [Crosby] and Graham [Nash] get here. I’d like to sing you this song called “The Vigilante”. It’s new, I hope I remember the words.” The self-effacing introduction notwithstanding, what follows is nothing short of revelatory.

An early highlight is “Enchanted Sky Machines,” a bluesy number about waiting for the end of the world where she trades her distinctive fingerpicking for pentecostal piano licks she picked up in reform school. There is an aching earnestness to the way she sings of swallowing her yearning, and it carries over into “The Archetypal Man,” which begins with Sill singing the song’s opening harpsichord solo. Before “Crayon Angels,” she describes how she would call up friends as she was writing the album and sing them instrumental solos, joking that it must have been hard for them to like her in those days. The crowd is in on it, and her self-deprecating humor belies a clear confidence in her talents and her musical vision that is justified by the virtuosic grace of her playing. Sill was a perfectionist who demanded and deserved creative control, a notoriously laborious songwriter who could be a tyrant in the studio, and these tendencies are on full display even in this humble solo set. When she introduces her second last song, “The Lamb Ran Away With the Crown,” she enunciates every word, then repeats it again — ”with. the. crown.” — determined to ensure the the audience walks away knowing exactly what she was saying.

The set ends with Judee’s signature song, “Jesus Was a Crossmaker,” which had only just been released to radio two days prior. She calmly reveals the song’s inspiration, an unhappy relationship with a “bandit and a heartbreaker,” and describes waking up one day with the conviction “that even that wretched bastard was not beyond redemption.” Her diction is clear, her tone less so. The audience, nonetheless moved, cheers and laughs. She goes on: “It’s true, I swear. It saved me, this song. It was writing this song or suicide. It’s called “Jesus is a Crossmaker” and I hope you like it.” Her voice seems monotonous for such an emotional confession, but that stops mattering as soon as the song begins.

Instantly her singing voice, freed from the perfectionism of her studio recordings, reveals itself as strikingly human. Precise, unadorned, free of vibrato, it is flat in places, sharp in others, yet cuts to the rhythmic core of each note. She struggles with a few of the intervals she has given herself to sing, but this only enhances the song, giving human voice to the mathematical precision of her compositions, linking the downtrodden with the divine. With her unpretentious voice and deceptively simple language, she strives to speak redemption into being. Her longing for it is audible.

Such longing is a key theme in much of sill’s work, and nowhere is it more pronounced than in “Crayon Angels”:

Crayon Angel songs are slightly out of tune

But I'm sure I'm not to blame

Nothing's happened, but I think it will soon

So I sit here waiting for God and a train to the Astral plane

Later in the song, she confesses “Guess reality is not as it seems so I sit here hoping for truth, and a ride to the other side”. Sill knows the truth she longs for is unattainable, at least in this lifetime — but she remains unflagging in her belief in something. It is this belief that motivates her music. To characterize Sill as a god-given genius laid low by fate undercuts her formidable musical ambition, and the sincerity with which she approached her craft. The work she created was not purely inspired by the divine, but instead strove for it, confronting the inevitable impossibility of reaching perfection with the all-too-human drive for beauty in the face of death. Still, one gets the sense that Sill herself, enthralled as she was with cowboy stories and cosmic secrets, might appreciate the mythic proportions her life story has taken. I like to think that she’s made it to the Astral plane, and that wherever she is, she’s smiling.

#h: assignment #h: 2018 #judee sill #music criticism #folk music #songs of rapture and redemption

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shinobis-of-ninjago-au · 3 years ago

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Shinobis of Ninjago

Episode 1: Rise of the Snakes

Prologue Pilot 1 Pilot 2 (Episode 1, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3), Next Episode

((Tw: Violence))

The ninja sat inside Mystake's meditation room. Admittedly, they hadn't been practicing this technique so they were nowhere near as focused as they had been a few weeks ago. They all sat in a line, Mystake in front of them. She was facing a large collection of incense, the thick smoke billowing up and forming some sort of screen.

She jolted from her sitting position. She turned around, facing the ninja who hadn't flinched. "The Serpentine are back. Jamanikai Village is in danger."

The four didn't move. Instead, Seliel sighed, "we were there yesterday. It was just a little kid—"

"The Spirit Smoke does not lie." Mystake snapped. "An ancient evil has been released. Go!"

Suddenly, Skylor broke concentration. Reaching for her Dragon Suit, she bolted out if the room.

"What's wrong?" Nya called after her.

"My brother's there right now!"

Before the kunoichis even arrived at Jamanikai, they heard the screams. But for some reason, as they got closer the screams seemed fainter, less.

Not bothering to stop outside of the village like they have in the past, they landed their dragons in the main square. Their dragons took off to circle the mountains, leaving the genin to wander the streets.

"I'm never coming down from this sugar high!"

Now that caught their attention. Seliel motioned for them to take to the rooftops and close in around the source of the shouting. A minute later they jumped down, startling a young girl who was riding in a wheelbarrow filled with candy.

"Sorry to bust your buzz, little Garmadon." Seliel said, her tone far from apologetic.

"But it's already past your bedtime." Nya added.

Skylor dropped her stance. "Really, What is it with you and terrible one-liners relating to sleep?"

"I thought that was pretty good, actually." Pixal complimented.

"See, at least someone has taste." Nya huffed.

"Oh, yes, believe the girl who doesn't even know what a joke is."

"Joke, noun, something said or done to provoke laughter—"

"Get them!"

A figure beside Harumi spoke, raising a gold staff in their hand. "Seize them." More of her kind revealed themselves, stepping out from behind buildings.

"The Serpentine?" Skylor asked incredulously, picking up her stance again. "They're real?"

"It's not just them we have to worry about." Seliel kept her gaze on figures behind the Serpentine. The citizens of the village were walking towards them, eyes glowing the same red as the Serpentine in front of her. "The whole village has been hypnotized."

Nya began to pull out her trident, but the kanchō pulled her hand down. "No. Our weapons are too unstable. We can do more harm than good."

"I guess that leaves us with... run!" The teisatsu shouted. The ninja leapt to the rooftops once more. They continued on until they were certain they were away from prying eyes before ducking in a back alley behind a building.

At the sound of metal clattering to the ground, they turned, pulling out their weapons. A figure stumbled out from behind a cluster of garbage bins, stumbling in the snow.

Nya rushed forward, catching them as they fell forward. "Jay, you're alive! What happened?"

Jay groaned, tightening the arm he had wrapped around his torso. "Serpentine landed lucky punches. They have hypnotized the town."

"Mind control." Seliel muttered. "How is this possible?"

"They are Hypnobrai. When you hear a rattling sound, do not look in eye, that is how you fall under control." He paused at the looks he was getting from the shinobis. "¿Qué? I have to keep myself busy somehow. You learn lot when you can read only for months."

Nya turned back to her teammates. "What're we supposed ta' do now? We can't use our weapons and now we've gotta fight with our eyes closed? Perfect."

"One with staff is in charge. The staff holds anti-venom, if we can get that we can free everyone." Jay said.

Skylor turned to her teammates. "Let's forget about the whole Green Ninja thing. Saving Jamanikai is our top priority." She placed her fist in her open palm. "The four of us; we're a team."

"Now you're talking." The kishu bounced on the balls of her feet. "Let's go save a village, ladies. And Jay."

Jay nodded in thanks and the five took to the rooftops once more. Nya, being the the scout, went ahead, reporting back that Harumi was in the middle of the village, near the fountain.

About halfway to their destination, Jay pointed to a group of guards. Seliel, as the kishu, jumped down, taking the three Hypnobrai by surprise. Without waiting for them to recover from their shock, she closed her eyes and spun into her tornado of spinjitzu.

Without control of her direction, Seliel managed to take down the three Serpentine, but eventually ran into an abandoned stand that was selling homemade hats and scarves.

Skylor sighed. "Okay, we're really out of shape." She pulled Seliel back up onto the roof and they took off, following the path that Pixal, Nya, and Jay had left for them.

When they arrived, a battle was already in progress. Harumi was running through the square, pushing a wheelbarrow full of sweets. Skylor stepped forward, only to be held back by Seliel. The kishu pointed to Pixal who was sitting on top of one of the rooftops.

Pixal pulled out her whip and cracked it in the direction of the young girl. She had intended to just startle her, but instead the thong extended and hit the wheel. The wheelbarrow tipped over, sending the girl flying.

When Harumi looked up the kanchō was standing in front of her, securing her whip to her belt. "Master was right; we should have dealt with you the first time."

Harumi scrambled backwards, abandoning her cart of candy. "Retreat!" She shrieked, running towards the gates that surrounded the village.

The general raised her staff and her eyes glowed briefly. As she turned around, she received a double kick to the face, sending her tumbling to the ground. Her staff clattered to the feet of the Phantom Ninja, who bent down and picked it up. "Go ahead. Give me a reason."

Slitheraa looked at her staff, and then to the human holding it. She scrambled back in fear, slithering after Harumi. Seliel held up the staff triumphantly, only for someone to grab her shoulder harshly.

Seliel was met with red eyes that seemed to swirl and a calm voice laced with a low hissing. "Look into my eyes... I control you..."

Seliel's eyes began to take on their own shade of red as her body relaxed. "You... control—"

"Seliel!"

The spell was broken when someone delivered a solid punch to the serpentine. Seliel's vision cleared and she found Jay standing in front of her, gripping her shoulders. "You have anti-venom. Use own staff. I will cover you."

"Good idea." Seliel pulled out the gem from the Serpentine staff and dropped it onto the ground. She brought her own staff down over the gem, shattering it.

Concentrating deeply, she tried to squeeze her inner elemental power into the staff, watching as a turquoise mist began to creep out of the ground. It filtered out from between the rocks, filling the village.

When it cleared, the once angry villagers were looking around in confusion, clutching their heads in pain. Jay came up to her, taking the Serpentine staff.

"Are you okay? You look pale."

Seliel shook her head and smiled. "No, I'm fine, just a little tired. Maybe I should train with the staff more before I decide to use my life force to activate it."

Jay wrapped his arm around her to support her as they headed to where Nya was waving them over.

"When did Sensei get here?" Seliel asked.

"No idea." Nya whispered back. "She just showed up."

"We're sorry Sensei," Skylor apologized. "If we dealt with Harumi before she became a problem, none of this would have happened."

"Even lessons learned the hard way, are lessons learned." Mystake paused. "A great evil has been released, I fear troubling times will come. This is only the beginning."

"Then we will train, and be ready for the Serpentine." Pixal assured her.

"It may not be Lady Misako, but that doesn't mean we won't bring our A-game." Seliel added.

Skylor nodded, turning back to Mystake. "Train us. Teach us the secrets behind the weapons of spinjitzu."

Mystake hummed. "There is much to teach. Let us return to the Monastery. I believe Seliel would like to rest."

The kunoichis took off on their dragons, doing a final check of the village to make sure everyone was un-hypnotized and there were no more Serpentine who had been left behind.

"When am I going to get own dragon?" Jay asked, taking a seat on a bench to watch them.

Mystake smiled, dipping her head so the shadow of her hat covered her face. "Patience Jay, your time will come."

—————————————————-

Deep underground in the Hypnobrai tomb, Slitheraa and her second in command were arguing in hushed voices. The raid on Jamanikai Village had been a complete failure, Skales wondering why they even went in the first place and exploited their resources for a human child.

"The girl set us free." Slitheraa exclaimed, offended that her second in command would question her judgement.

"She is a child!" Skales argued. "She is not one of us."

"I may not have the staff but I am still your general." Slitheraa hissed. "Stand down."

Skales bowed deeply, backing away to join another group of Hypnobrai. "You coward. We all know she is under the girl's spell." One muttered. "You are Lieutentant, and still you do nothing?"

"Now is not the time." Skales hushed them. "I still hold the key to destroy the ninja. And when I do that, everyone will see it is I who should be in control."

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artificialqueens · 4 years ago

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Galactica, Chapter 37 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: Click here if you’re looking for previous chapters (or here if you’d rather read on AO3). 💫

Last Chapter: Things looked up for Violet as she finally settled into the new normal of working in design.

This Chapter: One of New York’s most illustrious editors-in-chief turns 40--in style.

***

Shit.

It had been an absolute hell week, Courtney being run ragged all day, everyday. She’d missed more meals than not, barely slept, had gotten used to only using the bathroom when Fame was occupied.

It was really the first time that she and Miss Fame had to interact directly for more than a few words, and if Courtney thought she was high-maintenance before, she had no idea how weird it would get.

On Tuesday, Courtney had been torn a new one for ringing the doorbell when she had dropped off a package at Fame’s house, Fame looking at her like she was absolute vermin.

How was Courtney supposed to have known that it was a deathsin not to just let herself into her boss’ house, Fame explaining to her like she was a retarded toddler that she valued her family life and private time too much to be interrupted, not at all catching the irony of the fact that she was imposing on Courtney’s private time by forcing her to come to her house at 10 pm.

And now, a casual text from Adore that she’d be there around 7:30 reminded her about Bianca’s party and she was absolutely panicking. She had less than an hour to make herself presentable with literally nothing to wear.

She’d meant to ask Ivy about a dress, days ago, and then again yesterday when she was arranging the delivery of Miss Fame’s present to the Marie Claire offices, but it had slipped her mind amongst all the other things she had to remember.

She jumped up and raced into Raja’s suite, a cramp in her side, relieved to find the redhead still at her desk.

“Courtney? Are you okay?” Ivy rose from her seat, a concerned look on her face, ever the empath.

“I just...I forgot…” Courtney tried to catch her breath.

“Okay, take a breath. Whatever it is, it’s fixable. I promise.”

Courtney gulped. “I forgot that I’m supposed to go to this party tonight at the Guggenheim and it’s super fancy and my ride will be here in 40 minutes and I don’t have anything to wear and I don’t even know what the dress code means and I was just wondering if I could borrow something and I promise I’ll have it cleaned and returned by Monday but-”

“Courtney, breathe. Okay?” Ivy took her hand, inhaling deeply and then blowing out dramatically.

Had this job really killed so many of her brain cells that she needed assistance breathing now? Regardless, Courtney followed Ivy’s lead, taking a few deep breaths to slow her racing heart.

“Now,” Ivy began. “What does the dress code say?”

“Creative black tie?”

“Ah. Okay. Follow me.”

Courtney nearly cried with gratitude as Ivy led her into the wardrobe closet.

“Luckily, you’re a sample size, so this shouldn’t be too much of a challenge,” Ivy said. “It’s Bianca Del Rio’s party, right?”

“Yeah,” Courtney said, watching her paw expertly through the racks.

“Are you going for anything in particular?”

“I guess I wanna look…” Courtney racked her brain, unsure of what to say, when the word, “older” slipped from her lips.

Ivy paused, clearly not expecting that answer, and gave Courtney a curious look before nodding.

“I can work with that. Now, Bianca likes bold colors and dramatic silhouettes with clean lines, so I think something like this…” Ivy pulled a stunning, beaded blue cocktail dress out off the rack. “This will look good on you.”

Ivy was truly a gift from god. Not only did they find a dress that fit perfectly (they settled on a short, fire-engine red silk number with a plunging neckline), along with shoes, accessories, and a glamorous faux-fur wrap, but she even stayed to help Courtney with her hair and makeup, giving her a chic updo and dramatic winged liner.

“Ivy, honestly, if you ever need anything. Someone to cover your desk...a kidney...whatever...you know who to ask.”

“Good to know.” Ivy laughed, checking her makeup one more time, adding a little more glimmering highlighter to her cheekbones, and then proclaiming, “Alright, I think you’re done.”

“Thank you so much,” Courtney said again, pulling out her phone. She hadn’t heard from Adore in awhile, and wondered if she was stuck in traffic or something. She seriously hoped that she hadn’t rushed like crazy, inconveniencing Ivy and nearly giving herself an ulcer worrying, just to sit around waiting for an hour.

COURTNEY: ETA?

ADORE: Soon, I think. I’m on my way to Pearl’s, then we’ll pick you up. Do you want a gyro?

COURTNEY: I’M A VEGAN

ADORE: Oh yeah. Gross. I’ll text you when we’re close.

***

“Bianca! Darling!” Fame reached out her arms to pull Bianca in for a tight embrace. “Happy Birthday!”

She and Patrick had just arrived at the stunning event space a few minutes earlier, and were immediately whisked off to a VIP area with a private bar, where Raja and Raven were already relaxing on sofas, Sutan and Violet standing at the bar chatting with Detox and Jujubee.

It was perfect, removed enough from the chaos of the dance floor, but with a perfect view over the railing. And the speed with which Bianca had arrived to greet her told her that she’s given special instructions for the staff to alert her to Fame’s presence--exactly the kind of preferential treatment that Fame expected.

“Thanks, blondie,” Bianca grinned, “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you,” Fame smiled widely, fluttering her lashes. “So do you. I love this dress!”

“Yeah, your tits look great!” Raja chimed in.

Bianca was wearing a sinfully tight black bandage dress, the neckline showing off her breasts and glowing skin, the hem just above her knees, her legs one of Bianca’s best assets.

“You can barely see that you’re turning 40.” Fame grinned, which earned her a pinch from Bianca, the other still keeping her in her arms.

“Shush.”

“Please,” Fame squeezed Bianca’s forearm, “So, tell me the truth, do you like the ring?”

Bianca held up her hand, where it glittered on her index finger.

Yesterday, Fame had had Bianca’s birthday present delivered to her office at the exact time of her birth, 3:57 pm. Fame knew Bianca liked her statement pieces, so she had custom ordered a cocktail ring, but not just any cocktail ring. Instead of the usual single band, a stone in the middle, Fame had gone for a three part twist in gold, sparkling garnets adorning it.

“It’s perfect, I love it,” Bianca said.

“Wonderful!” Fame clasped her hands together. “You’re impossible to shop for.”

“No I’m not! I love stuff,” Bianca countered. “Plus, you know...I’ll never say no to a present that’s unavailable in stores…”

She grinned wickedly, dimples deep, hand drifting down to Fame’s ass. Fame swatted it away with a scolding look.

“Really, Bianca.”

“What, it’s my birthday!” Bianca said. “You gotta give me something.”

“Fine, a tiny something,” Fame laughed, leaning in and giving her a sweet kiss on the lips, then following up with a light smack to her cheek.

“That’s not where I like being spanked,” Bianca said.

“Oh my god, you’re impossible!” Fame exclaimed, breaking away and stepping over to the bar while Bianca laughed gleefully behind her. “Now come on, tell me about your presents.”

***

“And a drink for the lady.” Sutan smiled as he handed Violet a glass, his date taking it with a sweet smile and a thank you, Sutan putting his arm back around her waist as they walked around.

He had picked Violet up at her apartment, his heart almost skipping a beat as she had pushed the double doors open and walked down the steps, her dress of the night absolutely stunning, the back open and taunting with it’s promise of bare impossibly soft skin.

“So,” Sutan rubbed his thumb up and down, gently caressing Violet’s back, “are you having fun?”

Sutan was happy that she was there, enjoyed spending time with her, but as he got to know her more and more, he slowly realized how little she actually enjoyed big crowds.

“Yes.”

“Okay.” Sutan bit his lip, hiding a smile at Violet’s quick but short reply.

***

Alaska giggled delightedly, letting Jinkx twirl her on the dance floor. If you’d told Alaska a few years ago that she’d have a friend who she could have this much fun with sober, she’d have laughed in your face. But, even though Jinkx didn’t mind it, Alaska really didn’t enjoy drinking around her. So when they were together, Alaska felt like it was the least she could do to hold off on the booze. What she did enjoy was being with her, sober or not, looking into her sparkling brown eyes as they tripped all over their feet.

“For a Broadway star, you’re really uncoordinated,” Alaska laughed, and Jinkx pretended to be offended, then giggled.

“It’s hard to be mad when you call me a Broadway star.”

“Well, you are!” Alaska said, wrapping her arms around Jinkx’s neck and gazing at her happily. She loved these moments, just the two of them having the time of their lives, dancing and laughing and ignoring every other person in the room. They always had fun, but tonight, Jinkx seemed to have an extra bounce in her step, radiating a kind of joy, and it made Alaska feel so grateful to be around her.

“Thanks Lasky...you’re the best.”

They whirled and stumbled around the dance floor some more, until they were both breathless and needed a break.

“What are we feeling like tonight? Ginger ale? Cranberry and soda?” Alaska asked.

“You choose,” Jinkx said, clinging to her arm.

Alaska ordered a couple of drinks for them and then turned back to Jinkx, who was looking at her with the cutest little dreamy half-smile. She couldn’t help the tingling rush that went down her spine as she lowered her eyes and asked, “So...what’s going on with you tonight?”

“What do you mean?” Jinkx asked, eyes widening innocently.

“I mean...you’re just very...I don’t know...” A smile tugged at Alaska’s lips. “...twinkly tonight.”

“Well...I wasn’t gonna say anything because...it’s kind of silly, but,” she lowered her voice, eyes shining. “I ran into her again. Ivy.”

Alaska felt her whole chest deflate, forcing a smile as Jinkx continued.

“At Zabar’s! It’s like the universe is just conspiring to help us get together, you know?” Jinkx giggled happily.

A lump rose in Alaska’s throat and she nodded, using all her willpower to keep the smile painted across her face. “Oh, wow. That’s...that’s cool. Did you talk?”

“Yes. You’d be so proud of me, I even got her number!”

“Wow. Awesome!” Alaska felt like she was going to throw up, shifting her gaze to the bartender, grateful for the distraction as he slid two ginger ales across the bar. She couldn’t help wishing that half the glass was Jack Daniels. She handed one of them to Jinkx and took her own. It tasted just dust.

“Yeah, but she was still a bit formal, you know? I think I need to see her in a more relaxed setting. Do you think she likes opera? Maybe I can ask her to Madame Butterfly?” Jinkx chattered, away, oblivious to Alaska’s shift in mood.

“You really think the Met is a relaxed setting?”

Jinkx threw back her head and laughed, squeezing Alaska’s arm. “Omigod, you’re right. I’m such a dingbat. What would I do without you, Lasky?”

“I don’t know…” Alaska stirred her drink.

“What do you think she likes?”

“Uh, I’m really not sure,” Alaska said. And it was true. She knew that Ivy was sweet, and professional, and did her job with a kind of calm efficiency. But she didn’t know her very well on a personal level, their professional paths rarely crossing directly.

“Hmm, maybe you can ask around? If that wouldn’t be too weird?” Jinkx looked so hopeful and earnest that Alaska couldn’t help but smile for real in spite of herself, immediately agreeing to help her on this quest to capture Ivy’s heart.

“Of course. I’ll ask around.”

Jinkx sighed happily, leaning on Alaska’s shoulder, eyes falling closed for a moment. “You really are my favorite person, Lask.”

“Back atcha, Jinxky.”

***

Adore walked into Bianca’s party, feeling like a million bucks. Everyone that was anyone and even some who were nothing were there, and Adore knew she looked better than all of them with her purple hair, her pouty red lips, her short black leather dress, fishnets, and best of all… Pearl, the sexiest fucking goddess she’d ever seen in her life at her side.

She hung on Pearl’s arm, enjoying the jealous looks she got; knowing that everyone at the party wanted to be in her place. She even got a nasty look from some models, who were clearly all in love with her girl, but Adore didn’t care.

Pearl was here with her and only her. Pearl glanced at her every few seconds with a smug grin on her face, like the cat that just ate the canary. Well, if the canary was Adore’s pussy. Which would mean the cat was… Well whatever, Adore wasn’t an English scholar. She was in love.

The only thing that sucked was that Courtney looked so fucking miserable. They’d been a little late picking her up, due to getting, well, sidetracked for a while at Pearl’s, and then stopping for food. She thought that Courtney would be a bit more understanding, but she’d barely spoken two words in the car, even Pearl picking up on her obvious anger.

And now, even though she was at the coolest party in Manhattan, she didn’t look happy at all. Adore caught her eye, offering a hopeful smile, but received only a resigned nod in return. She reached out to touch her hand.

“Have I told you how gorgeous you look?” Adore asked, hoping that a compliment and a charming grin would be enough to lighten her mood.

“You think?” Courtney asked, adjusting one of her straps nervously. “I don’t look out of place?”

“Bitch, you put all these other girls to shame,” Adore promised, and was rewarded, finally, with a pleased smile from Courtney.

“Thanks.”

“Pearl!”

Adore looked over at the group of giggling socialites who were approaching them, only slightly annoyed when they swept her girlfriend up. She pouted as Pearl dropped her hand, but smiled again when she doubled back to whisper into her ear, “I’m gonna try and squeeze some gossip out of these hoes, and then I’ll catch up with you later.”

“Okay, but don’t be too long!” Adore pulled her in, branding her cheek with a dark red kiss before taking Courtney’s arm and sauntering away, pleased with herself. She scanned the party, looking for her sister and finally spotting her holding court near the bar. She cupped her hands over her mouth to shout through the crowd. “Bianca! Happy birthday, you ancient whore!”

Bianca turned towards her sister’s voice, barking out, “You’re late!”

“Whaddaya mean, we’re right on time for a grand entrance!” Adore countered, laughing.

“Well-” Bianca stopped, completely losing her train of thought when her eyes landed on Courtney. She was wearing a short red dress, the first time Bianca has seen her in a color other than pastels, and she looked absolutely fucking stunning--legs a mile long, one blonde curl falling into her eyes. Damn.

“You look cute, B. Very boobalicious,” Adore said, giving her a hug. “Not bad for an old lady.”

“Yeah, thank you,” Bianca said, eyes still locked on Courtney. “Hi, Courtney.”

“Hi. Happy birthday,” Courtney said, giving her a sweet smile. “Sorry we’re late.”

“Oh, that’s alright,” Bianca told her. “But here, uh...this’ll help you catch up.”

She took a couple of the signature drinks from a passing tray and handed them over. Adore immediately began to suck hers down, but Courtney hesitated.

“Um, what’s in this?”

“Courtney’s afraid of tequila. It makes her messy, right bae?” Adore bumped her hip.

“Something like that.”

“It’s called a Madras. Vodka, orange juice and cranberry. No tequila, but it will fuck you up. Be warned,” Bianca said with a wink.

“Well...cheers,” Courtney said, giving an adorable little laugh.

“Cheers.” Bianca took a sip of her own drink, then leaned in closer. “You look amazing, by the way.”

“Yeah?” Courtney’s eyes shone, her fingers twirling that stray lock of hair.

“Yeah.” Bianca tried unsuccessfully to wipe the stupid grin off her face, and instead broke the tension with, “I’m shocked that someone who’s friends with my sister has such good taste.”

“Hey!” Adore exclaimed.

“Don’t be too impressed. It’s a loaner,” Courtney replied drily, causing Bianca to throw back her head and laugh.

“Fair enough.” She downed the rest of her drink, waving off a couple of acquaintances who were trying to get her attention.

“Be right back,” Adore said, scampering away towards Pearl, of course jumping the second the blonde so much as crooked a little finger.

Courtney reached out for her, but she was already gone. She sighed slightly, looking a little bit dejected, and Bianca cleared her throat.

“So listen, I heard through the grapevine that you’re looking for a way to avoid your, uh, Galactica employers while you’re here?”

Courtney looked up, startled. She seemed shocked that Bianca was still talking to her, and she stammered uncomfortably. “Oh. Yeah, no, I just-”

“Listen, it’s understandable, you wanna have a good time. Can’t do that while your boss is breathing down your neck, right?” Bianca flashed her dimples.

“Well...yeah,” Courtney admitted, laughing a little.

Bianca stepped closer, slipping an arm around her shoulders and lowering her voice conspiratorially. “Fame and Raja are well contained, don’t worry. I made a VIP section since those two need a velvet rope to feel like they’re having a good time.”

Courtney giggled. “Like a rich person playpen?”

“It’s a prison of their own making,” Bianca affirmed, giving her a wink. “Trust me, they’re looking down on everyone the way they prefer, and they ain’t leaving.”

“Well...thank you.” Courtney bit her lip. It was hard to tell in this light, but it looked like a slight blush had crept into her cheeks, and Bianca found herself even more enamored.

“Anytime.”

A second later, she felt someone tap on her arm: one of the Marie-Claire board members, who she sadly couldn’t ignore.

“Sorry, I have go...do hostess shit,” Bianca said, regret flooding her chest, and Courtney nodded.

“Of course.”

She turned towards the middle-aged man and his young wife, saying her cursory hellos and giving air kisses, making small talk with them both. As soon as she could manage, though, she spared a glance back at Courtney.

The plan, from the moment Adore told her that Courtney was coming, had been to seduce this smoking hot friend of her sister’s. And she figured that the “rough break-up” that Adore’d reported would make it a sure thing. An easy and fun little fling--a birthday present to herself.

But now, something about the wistful, faraway expression on her delicate face as she smoothed down her skirt made her look vulnerable, in a way that gave Bianca pause. As stunning as she was--and fuck, she was an absolute knock-out--it didn’t make Bianca want to seduce her. Instead, it made her want to protect her. Ugh, why did her fucking conscience have rear its ugly head tonight, on her birthday of all nights?

“Thank you so much. Be sure to check out the raw bar!” she said, finally escaping and ready to head back to Courtney--but Adore beat her to it.

She watched as her sister came bounding up, Pearl in tow, and grabbed Courtney’s hands to pull her onto the dance floor.

Well, good. She should have a good time. Lord knows, anyone who worked for Fame deserved to blow off some steam. Bianca snatched another drink from a passing tray, trying to redirect her attention to the Welsh model who’d been giving her bedroom eyes all night.

***

Violet was having a surprisingly good time, taking small sips of her champagne. She had hurried home from work, almost ready when Sutan had texted that he was downstairs, the smile on Sutan’s face when he had seen her dress almost, almost, almost worth it’s price tag.

She had never been to an event of this size without having to worry if catering ran out of ice, or if she’d need to get taxis for whoever got way too drunk. It was nice to just stand by Sutan’s side, nice to be allowed to just be, without having to entertain or constantly think about everything that could go wrong.

“Ah, yes, of course.” Sutan smiled, his thumb rubbing up and down the small of Violet’s back. He was talking to one of the models from Elite, Violet vaguely recognizing her from some of the headshots she had presented to Fame for the fall collection. “I’ll be sure to tell Marcel about that.”

“Excuse me,” Violet turned, her eyes falling on a man with a camera, the card around his neck instantly telling her that he was from OK! magazine. “I was wondering if I could take a few pictures?”

“Oh,” Violet didn’t know what to do, her stomach instantly tightening.

“Sure,” Sutan grinned, turning towards the camera. “Right girls?”

“I-” Violet didn’t want to be in the picture, didn’t want someone she didn’t know documenting where she was, didn’t want to risk it ending up online. “I don’t-”

“Oh of course,” Sutan took her glass, handing it off to someone. “There we go.”

“Sutan”

“Come here,” Sutan put an arm around the model, posing both of them.

“Please-” Violet could feel Sutan’s hand on her hip, holding her tight, keeping her trapped, her throat closing up.

“Should we smile?”

“No,” The photographer looked out from behind his camera, “just be natural.”

Violet pushed away, forcing Sutan to let her go as the camera went off. She didn’t hear Sutan say her name, a quick flicker of a question on his face, didn’t see him smile apologetically to the photographer and pose with the model, didn’t notice any of it as she made her way outside, escaping the only thing she could think of.

***

Juju strolled through the crowd with Raven. She appreciated the whole VIP setup as much as anyone, but this was a massive party, and they’d decided to come spend a little time where the action was, maybe dance a bit -at least as much as her poor pregnant body would allow. They were stopped by a group of models, Raven proudly showing off her engagement ring and letting the other girls fawn all over her.

Juju put up with the schmoozing for a couple of minutes--after all, those girls were potential clients, until she spotted Bianca nearby and politely excused herself from the group, knowing that Raven would be perfectly content with her little fan club.

Bianca was chatting up some sweet young thing (typical), and Juju couldn’t resist messing with her a little. She wrapped her arms around Bianca’s waist from behind, asking in a low, husky voice, “Tell me I’m your favorite, Daddy.”

It was a joke between the two of them, something that had started years ago when Juju and Detox were first dating. They’d shown up at brunch one morning in the middle of a heated argument about whether it was appropriate for her to call him “Daddy” during sex--ironically, only a few months before she got preganant with their first child. It wasn’t a kink thing, exactly, it was just that she thought it was funny, and especially so when she saw his freaked out reaction. The group agreed that right or wrong, if it bothered him then she probably shouldn’t say it. But Bianca, ever the good sport, had pulled the smaller woman into her lap and declared that if she really needed to call someone Daddy, she was ‘willing to take one for the team.’

Juju accompanied her breathy greeting by biting gently on Bianca’s ear, adding, “Pwease?”

Bianca burst out laughing, pulling her close and introducing her to a very confused looking girl. “Tayce, you must know my friend Juju Sanderson. The brilliant hairstylist who owns Jujubee’s downtown?”

“Oh, yeah! It’s an honor!” Tayce said, her brown eyes lighting up as a dazzling smile spread across her face. “I’ve been trying to get an appointment with you, but you’re booked up for months!”

Juju had to bite back her laugh when she heard Tayce speak--Bianca always was a sucker for an accent.

“Well, play your luck with Daddy here, and you might jump the queue,” Juju said with a wink.

“Among other benefits,” Bianca cackled. “You know you’re the only one who I’d let get away with that Daddy shit, right?”

“Yes, thank you. You’re a lot more fun than my husband.”

“In so many ways,” Bianca said, turning to Tayce and giving her a playful smirk.

***

Violet took a deep breath, letting it out through her teeth as she could finally feel her heart slow down, though the knot in her stomach wasn’t going away.

She knew she couldn’t help it, but it was impossible not to feel an inkling of shame travel up her spine, the feeling that she was being ridiculous impossible to push down.

Sutan hadn’t meant anything by it, taking photos a part of his life, being in the public eye something that simply came natural for him.

Violet took a last breath, pushing away from the wall she had been leaning against to go back to the party, hoping that Sutan hadn’t noticed how strange she was acting.

It wasn’t that Violet liked acting this way, that she wanted to feel the panic rising in her body whenever she saw a camera in a stranger's hand, but she couldn’t help it.

She was an adult now, she had her own life, her own money and even her own job and her own apartment, but it was hard not to hide, impossible not to react to the instinctive fear that welled up in her at the risk of being found.

Violet walked back inside, the noise and the amount of people feeling so much more overwhelming when she wasn’t at Sutan’s side. She made her way through the crowd, easily spotting both Fame and Pearl, avoiding both of them.

She was starting to think Sutan had left, Raja nowhere to be found either, when she saw him sitting at a table, surrounded by models. He was laughing loudly, his arm around one of the girls, several of the models’ phones taking pictures of everything that was happening.

Violet’s stomach did a flip, the panic from earlier rushing through her body. She couldn’t go over there, couldn’t be a part of that part of Sutan’s world, so instead, Violet did what she always did.

Turned around, and walked away.

***

[Raja?] Sutan put a hand on Raja’s hip, turning her around. Sutan had been sitting with a group of models, doing shots and having fun right up until one of them had touched his legs under the table, and he had abandoned ship instantly.

[Have you seen Violet?]

He hadn’t seen her in over an hour, and while Sutan was more than sure that Violet could take care of herself, he had started to worry.

[Sutan!] Raja grinned, stepping into his space, looping her arms around his neck. [Hello brother dear.]

[Hello.] Sutan smiled, once again reminded of how much he truly loved Raja. She was tipsy, her eyes swimming slightly, which was probably why she hadn’t responded to his question. [Have you seen Violet?]

[Violet?] Raja tilted her head, her hand fiddling with the hairs at the nape of his neck. [No?]

[Shit.] Sutan bit his lip, his hands resting on Raja’s hips.

[Maybe she just left?] Raja smiled, running her fingers through his hair. [There’s no need to worry.]

[Maybe...]

[She can handle herself.]

[Mmmh.] Sutan knew that Raja was probably right, but it still felt weird that VIolet hadn’t said goodbye, and if he was honest, he was disappointed that they wouldn’t be going home together at the end of the night. [I’ll send her a text.]

Sutan was just about to reach into his pocket, was just about to get his phone out, when he saw a photographer to his left, just outside the VIP section. The paparazzi always loved to get photos of him and Raja together, and while he was sure Raja hadn’t noticed, he made sure to twist her slightly to the left, getting her good side as he smiled at the camera.

***

“Every guy here is drooling over you, bae,” Adore giggled, spinning Courtney on the dance floor before accepting another drink from Pearl.

“Not just the guys,” Pearl added with a wink.

Courtney laughed. In spite of her hesitation in tagging along, she’d been having a pretty good time. The attention was fun, of course, but Courtney’d barely noticed the alleged guys drooling over her. She couldn’t help thinking about the way she’d felt when Bianca put that arm around her, the way her brown eyes had sparkled in the dim light. The way goosebumps prickled her skin as Bianca’s fingers grazed her shoulder.

Her gaze kept being pulled in Bianca’s direction. Eyes drifting over her enticing curves in that tight dress. And occasionally, to her absolute thrill, Bianca would be looking back at her. Every time their eyes met, her stomach flipped around like crazy.

It was silly, she knew that. She knew that Bianca was only being nice to her because she was Adore’s friend. A nice kid. That it didn’t mean anything deep. This was, after all, a woman who dated supermodels and Oscar winners. Like the gorgeous girl by her side most of the evening, who had a face that Courtney instantly recognized from last month’s British Vogue cover.

Still.

The reality of the situation didn’t stop her from pretending, even just to herself, even just for the night, that maybe there was something there, that warranted all these confusing feelings swirling around inside her like a tornado.

And later, when they were saying goodbye, she allowed herself to enjoy the way Bianca’s palm pressed to the small of her back. She even let her lips linger for a few moments on Bianca’s warm cheek, kissing her goodnight.

***

SUTAN: Did you leave?

[MISSED CALL]

SUTAN: The party is still going.

SUTAN: Did you get home safe?

[MISSED CALL]

SUTAN: I can’t find you.

[MISSED CALL]

SUTAN: Violet??

VIOLET: I’m fine.

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wonderfulworldofmichaelford · 4 years ago

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Psycho Analysis: Jason Voorhees

(WARNING! He’s back! THE MAN BEHIND THE MASK!)

...ki ki, ki, ma ma ma...

The slasher subgenre of horror has plenty of villains, but the key to any great slasher movie (aside from quality kills) is having a memorable slasher who sticks in the mind of those who watch the film. You can’t just have some generic evil guy and expect the killer to be cool and memorable; you need to give them a fun gimmick. And in the scores of slashers who populated the 80s, there are few out there who are quite as legendary and iconic as Jason Voorhees. Jason is one of those few villains who, even if you’ve never seen a single one of his movies, you’d know on sight.

Even now, with him being absent from cinema for over a decade at the time of this writing due to legal disputes (though not from other mediums such as video games), Jason is still a household name, still remembered as one of the coolest, creepiest horror villains to come out of the 80s. In fact, I’d even go so far as to say Jason might be the greatest slasher villain of all time. So let’s take a look at the man behind the mask and see what we’ve got here.

Motivation/Goals: Jason as a villain is motivated by two main factors: a desire to make his mother proud, and a desire to get vengeance for how he was treated. The first few movies are all Jason taking out his anger over his mother’s death on anyone near Camp Crystal Lake. In earlier movies, he’d really only kill anyone who invaded his territory, but later sequels had him expand his killing range by going to Manhattan, Springwood, and even outer space. Basically, Jason is motivated by revenge against a world that persecuted him, and a desire to impress his mother. The simplicity of his motivations is actually a great strength, because it means there doesn’t need to be constant time in each new film adding on to Jason’s lore like they do with Freddy, Michael Meyers, and so on. Jason kills kids who have sex, that’s it. Simple, clean, effective, and a vehicle for cool kills.

Performance: There are a LOT of people who have put on the hockey mask throughout the franchise, but perhaps the most well-known name is Kane Hodder, the hulking actor who portrayed Jason in the seventh through the tenth films. He’s certainly the Jason that will spring to mind when thinking of Jasons, but he’s the obvious one. His actor in Freddy vs. Jason, Ken Kirzinger, was chosen because he had kind eyes and could tower over Freddy, and amusingly he actually appeared in Jason Takes Manhattan as a huge chef Jason tosses aside. Then of course we have Ari Lehman, the man who cameoed as Jason at the end of the first film in the Carrie-esque jump scare, most notable because he is so proud of his role that he named his punk rock/heavy metal band First Jason.

And these are just the few I wanted to highlight here; the original continuity is ten movies worth of actors playing Jason, and he even has multiple actors in some films.

Final Fate: It depends on the movie. His mortal life is ended by a young Tommy Jarvis in The Final Chapter, but then he comes back in Jason Lives as a zombie, a zombie who is only incapacitated until Jason Takes Manhattan where he is seemingly killed off for good by the nightly flooding of the Manhattan sewers with radioactive sludge (likely a safety measure against C.H.U.D.s). But then he comes back in Jason Goes to Hell where his original body ends up obliterated for most of the movie until the ending, but soon after he’s dragged right down to, you guessed it, Hell. But then comes Jason X, and he’s brought to space where he finally ends up obliterated for real by falling through the atmosphere of a planet and burning up. And this isn’t getting into the numerous deaths from games, comics, and so on; Jason is a man who is very hard to kill.

Best Scene: What does one pick for the best scene? His sleeping bag kill from VII? The liquid nitrogen kill from Jason X? The numerous amusing scenes he has when he actually reaches Manhattan in Jason Takes Manhattan? It’s a tough choice, but honestly. I might just have to go with his corn field rave massacre in Freddy vs. Jason. It’s just so damn cool.

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Final Thoughts & Score: Jason Voorhees is one of the great early slasher villains and, most impressively of all, he managed a remarkable level of consistency until the very end, at least compared to some of is peers. Compare to Michael Meyers, who had to constantly be rebooted because filmmakers kept trying to find ways to humanize and explan his motivations to the point that franchise has a fractured timeline to rival the Zelda series, or Freddy Krueger, who deteriorated from a terrifying psychopath who treated killing like a game to a non-stop quip machine that spent more time slinging one-liners than kills. Jason, while certainly going through some odd phases – recall the time he was a weird demon worm that could surf between bodies, or the time he went to space and became a cyborg – never really lost sight of the things that truly made him effective as a character.

Yes, Jason is a silent antagonist, but he says a lot with his deeds and actions. He’s a killing machine, but he certainly isn’t mindless, and he usually seems to have some sort of ethics that perhaps we don’t understand, but Jason certainly does. For instance, in later films Jason does not hurt animals, and once he’s a zombie he doesn’t kill children either. A lot of this likely stems from Jason essentially being a child in a deformed man’s body, and this goes a long to making him an interesting, tragic figure. Jason almost certainly doesn’t understand what he’s doing is wrong, and if he does, he’s almost certainly too blinded by rage to care, especially after becoming a zombie.

I think the underlying tragedy of Jason simply being a monster who only wanted to please his beloved mother and violently lashes out at those he sees, through his warped perspective, as the ones to blame makes him an interesting and complex character… and here’s the great thing! Unlike other slasher villains, this is all established very early on, and rather than continue piling on more and more backstory, the series decides to throw Jason into interesting situations. This is a problem that befell his slasher sibling Freddy; as cool as Freddy managed to be, every new film added more and more convoluted backstory rather than trying to put Freddy into an interesting scenario he could have interesting kills in. And the less said about Michael Meyers, the better. But Jason? They gave him all he needed in the first two movies, made him a zombie in the sixth, and then spent the rest of the series getting weird and creative. Jason is a villain effective because his simple characterization and motivation means he can slip into any sort of situation, be it fighting a telekinetic girl, going to Manhattan, fighting Freddy Krueger, fighting Ash Williams, slaughtering camp counselors en masse, or going to space.

It should be incredibly obvious Jason is an 11/10. He’s a testament to what makes a slasher villain great and memorable: he has a simple yet flexible mindset that allows him to be thrust into a variety of situations, he has an iconic outfit, he has an awesome weapon of choice, and he is parodied, referenced, and known throughout the world to this day. He has killer video game appearances in the likes of Mortal Kombat X and his own Friday the 13th game, he has tons of comics including ones where he takes on Freddy, Ash Williams, Leatherface, and even Uber Jason, and despite the obnoxious legal battles currently keeping him from appearing in any media to any great extent, you’d be hard pressed to find a person without even passing knowledge of Jason.

Here’s a few interesting notes, though – a lot of shout outs to Jason have characters using a chainsaw, which as we all know is the tool of Leatherface. Jason uses a machete for the most part but is very versatile, but even so the closest he ever came to using anything remotely like a chainsaw was in VII, where he used a weed whacker. Jason also didn’t gain his iconic look until the third film; in the second movie, Jason wore a burlap sack over his head. And finally, there’s a bit of trivia I’m sure most are aware of by now: Jason was not the killer in the first or fifth films. In the first film, the killer was actually Jason’s mother, Pamela Voorhees, and the fifth film Jason was still kind of dead so a copycat killer named Roy Burns took his place. So hey, while we’re here, let’s talk about these Jason adjacent killers:

Pamela Voorhees is one of those rare female slasher villains, and the fact she is so absolutely amazing makes you wonder why there aren’t more. She’s basically to Friday the 13th what The Boss is to the Metal Gear Franchise – an all-important female figure whose actions completely and totally changed the course of history. Her quest to avenge her son’s death led to her slaughtering people at Camp Crystal Lake, which led to her death… but then it turns out her son had lived all along, and her death served only to make him into a violent, vengeful monster. Add on the fact that Pamela was using the Necronomicon Ex-Mortis on her son to empower him (supported by Jason Goes to Hell and Freddy vs, Jason vs. Ash), and Pamela is indirectly responsible for every murder in the series. Or perhaps even directly, if it really is her voice Jason hears in some of the movies and the Friday the 13th game. Betsy Palmer absolutely kills it in the role (pun intended), and it’s a shame she was annoyed by the role for years, though she apparently did eventually come around and embrace it. As one of the great ladies of horror, Pamela definitely earns a 10/10.

But now let’s take a look at the opposite end of the spectrum with Roy Burns. The idea of a Jason copycat killer is not entirely without merit, and for the most part, the movie is incredibly solid, with good kills on Roy’s part. The issue comes with the ultimate reveal of his identity, which turns the entire movie into an utterly convoluted mess that makes absolutely no sense. The lack of buildup of any kind, save for two brief scenes prior to his unmasking, makes the twist lack any sort of punch, and his reasoning for killing people is just absurd. Hell, he isn’t even targeting the one person responsible – that guy gets away with a jail sentence while Roy butchers innocent people!

Basically, Roy fails at being an engaging replacement for Jason due to the film’s finale, which goes out of its way to undermine him and everything you just watched. It should come as no shock that he’s a 1/10. Still, unlike most villains with this rating, he does have a little bit of redemption due to being playable in the Friday the 13th game. You’re just controlling him as he kills without any worry about stupid backstory, so hey, I’ll give Roy that at least, and I can’t deny his mask is pretty sick.

UPDATE: Ok, I was way too hard n Roy. Yes, his motivation is stupid and poorly explained, his killings are absolutely ridiculous and make no sense with his motivation, I still stand by all that... and yet, I’m watching this movie for creative kills, right? And boy does our boy Roy provide. He slaughters his way through these oneshot characters with gusto! I think I’m just still bitter he’s not Jason, but I like Season of the Witch even if Michael Meyers isn’t there, so maybe I’m just too harsh on Roy and his movie in general. I think his dumbass motivations hold him back, but I think the correct score for him is a 6/10. He is most certainly not abysmal enough for a one and I was really foolish to issue a score like that. Sometimes even I have trouble overcoming my biases.

It’s interesting, though, that both of these characters tend to be forgotten, overshadowed by Jason. In the intro of Scream, Drew Barrymore’s doomed character accidentally says Jason is the killer of the first film, rather than Pamela. And I think that while that is likely a common misconception, it’s less because Pamela is forgettable but more that Jason is so overwhelmingly cool that he overshadows anyone else in these films with few exceptions. Jason may very well be the greatest slasher villain of all time, and if you disagree, well, who won in Freddy Vs. Jason again, hmmm?

And more importantly, what slasher villain has an Alice Cooper song dedicated to him?

youtube

I rest my case.

#Psycho Analysis #Jason Voorhees #Kane Hodder #Friday the 13th

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writingsbychlo · 5 years ago

Text

neighbours | stiles stilinski

word count; 10,279

summary; stiles is the president of a frat. you live nextdoor to their new frathouse, sparks are bound to fly at some point.

notes; this fic officially brought me out of my hiatus. I wrote the whole thing in one night, no idea where the inspiration came from, but here it is.

warnings; smut.

“Well, hi there, little lady! Hi there!” You grinned, shaking the finger the baby was gripping tightly, her giggles echoing through the room. The floorboards above you squeaked, and a cringe took over your features. Picking the girl up and out of her bouncer, you balanced her on your hip, stepping out into the garden and pointing at objects around you, bouncing her gently as you went.

You admired the area your sister had moved into, the atmosphere was quiet, the man across the road mowing his lawn slowly, and a smirk took over your features. It was all she’d ever wanted, a little house with a picket fence in a good neighbourhood, a husband and a baby. Sure, you wanted that too, but not yet. A moving truck made its way along the road, pulling up to the house next door, and your eyebrows raised.

They quickly furrowed, however, as a younger man hopped out, followed by another, and another. Soon enough, three cars had pulled up, what seemed to be other college students piling out, the back of the truck opening to reveal more. Passing letters out of the back, it all weaved together suddenly, and you sighed, shaking your head.

Taking the steps upstairs quickly, you shuffled the baby from one hip to another, trying to ignore the varied moaning sounds and panting from behind the door, your fist slamming down on the wood. Muffled conversation was exchanged, before your sister answered the door, wrapped in her sheet and peeking around the door. “What’s up?” She was out of breath, hair mussed, and you snorted, shaking your head.

“Have you met your neighbours?” You offered, quirking an eyebrow, and her own cinched in.

“We don’t have any, the house is vacant.” She offered, and you hummed, shaking your head.

“Not anymore. Go look.” Turning to look over her shoulder, she shuffled through the room, trying not to trip over the edges of her sheet and you actively avoided looking at her husband, who was sitting up from lying down on the floor at the side of the bed, shuffling to put his clothes on out of sight.

“Is that a fucking fraternity?” She yelled, and you placed the baby girl’s head to your chest, covering her ears as she cooed.

“What?!” He yelled, shooting up from the floor and trying to pull his top over his head as he dashed to the window, the pair of them looking out and muttering angrily.

“You know, maybe they’re not as bad as you think they are. Why don’t you just go over, introduce yourselves and ask them to keep it down?” You suggested, and they both turned to look at you, before each other, shrugging with a hum. Taking your leave, you headed towards the baby room, deciding to change her from her onesie. Placing her on the changing bed, you shook her little feet in your fingers, her cooing turning into full blown peals of tiny laughter, her chest shaking.

Undoing the buttons, your slipped her limbs from the outfit, tossing into the hamper before sliding up the railings on either side to secure her in. Turning, you dug through the box of special outfits the couple a few doors down had purchased. Choosing a little grey dress, you picked up a pair of white socks and little trainers, before turning back to the bundle of joy. Her hands were gripping the plastic bars tightly, having rolled to the side, brown eyes fixed on your own, sparkling as she watched you move.

Shuffling her to sit up, you tugged the fabric down over her shoulder softly, navigating her little fists under the straps and adjusting it over her, before letting her roll onto her back once again, her feet clutched in her own little hands. Placing the socks and shoes on her feet, you lifted her up again, stepping into the corridors.

Her mother came dashing towards her, taking her in her arms and admiring her child, before setting off down the stairs, placing her in her stroller and strapping her in, before sorting themselves out. You heard the door slam, and peeking out of the window, you saw your sister and her husband head off across the garden, following the path around and up the garden of your new neighbours.

Stepping out onto the porch, you watched them head up the path, the kids turning to watch the older couple, slightly puzzled, and you shook your head as they all but swaggered up the pathway to the house. Two men stepped out onto the porch, another two behind them, and a strawberry blonde pushed forwards, a tall girl with a blonde bob on the other side.

The two men, who seemed to be in charge, were already talking to your sister, and your eyes scanned over them. One was tall and pale, clearly built well but it was hidden beneath a flannel shirt, rolled up his forearms to his elbows, legs clad in skinny jeans. The other, was tanned, arms on show with a collection of plain black bands tattooed on his bicep, shorts adorning his legs.

They reach out, stepping down the steps and smiling widely, before leaning over the pram to fuss over your niece. The strawberry blonde did the same, her fingers reaching out to tickle her tummy, and when she stood up she flicked her hair over her shoulder, her eyes connecting with yours and she smiled brightly.

Brushing herself off, she made a beeline across the garden towards you, her absence going unnoticed by her friends as she approached, her smile becoming a grin as she showed off her teeth, hand raising in a wave. “Now I know you can’t be a daughter, because they’re definitely not old enough to have you, so.. a sister?” She smiled, reaching the edge of the porch and standing below it.

Resting your forearms on the wooden bannister, you leaned forwards, a laugh tumbling from your lips. “(Y/N), sister of momma bear over there.” You held your hand out and she reached up to shake it. You invited her around, and she followed the grass verge, her heels clicking as she headed up the steps, arriving at your side, her hand held out.

“Lydia, sister of the fraternity over there.” She copied, a little chuckle leaving both of you. She turned to her friends, who will still all chatting, your niece now in the arms of the tanned boy. “That’s Scott, the one holding that adorable little lady.” She grinned, and you nodded, remembering the name. “He’s the co-president. That behind him is Theo, and the shorter one is Liam, he’s only a freshman, but he was kinda taken under everyone’s wing the moment he pledged, so..”

“He’s a little sweetie, look at him watching.. Scott, was it? Look at him watching Scott with the baby, bless.” You awed, clutching a hand to your heart. “The girl is Malia, she’s dating Scott, has been for some time now. And that last one is the other co-president, Stiles.”

“What the hell is a Stiles?” You laughed, and she turned to you, practically beaming.

“I said that exact same thing when I first met him!” Her words only brought you both more laughter, and you shook your head, looking back up to the group. Your sister and brother-in-law were on their way back over, and you bid your farewell to Lydia, as you stepped inside and she dashed back across the grass to her friends, who had finally noticed her missing presence.

Your phone chimed in your pocket, and you glanced down, the notifications continued, the group chat blowing up and you swiped open and onto it. The girls were all chatting about meeting up at a bar, before everyone went away for the summer, and you shook your head. Suggestions were being thrown about, and you glanced up at the time, a good five hours showing on the clock until they wanted to leave.

“They were so great!”

“So great! And I think we played it off cool. We were cool. We’re still cool.” Your sister agreed with her husband, her toe catching on the door stop as she tripped slightly, through the door, the pram jolting and the baby squealing in delight. You raised an eyebrow at her, and she huffed.

“You’re so cool, sis, so cool.” Your words were meant to mock, but she just grinned, thanking you before turning to her husband and her baby. “You guys don’t need me tonight, right? I know I’m staying with you to help with the little one, but you’re good tonight, yeah?” They both hummed in acknowledgement of your statement, chatting between themselves about whether they would watch ‘Game Of Thrones’ or ‘Stranger Things’.

Your sister glanced over her shoulder at you, a smile gracing her lips. “Are you going out?” you just nodded, taking off up the stairs quickly, giving the little family their space and you made your way to the bathroom.

The floors beneath your feet were practically trembling, and your eyebrows shot up, you were tempted to roll your eyes as your hand shook, the pencil smudging across your eye in an uneven line across the lid. Giving up on liner, you decided to wipe it clean, resetting the canvas before picking the palette back up.

Dabbing the brush across the gold, you smeared the powder across your eyelid, blending it out to the side before following it up with a pale brown to around it off. Placing the items back in your makeup bag, you sighed loudly as another shake took through the floors as the bass hit particularly deep. Your sister was going crazy downstairs, and you were honestly surprised the joint racket hadn’t woken the sleepy baby who’d been put down a few hours before.

Standing, you stretched out the aches in your muscles, shaking yourself off and admiring the handiwork you’d done in the mirror. You’d googled the bar online, a dress code for the place, and the pictures were enough to tell you what to wear. Your curls hung perfectly on your head, having been sprayed just enough to hold and bounce, but not enough to fall out. Your lipstick was a dark red, complementing the red dress clung to your figure in all the right places, black heels placed at the foot of your bed, a black denim jacket laying on the covers.

Giving yourself one last look over, you nodded, happy, and grabbed the light jacket, pulling it up over your shoulders, untucking your hair from beneath the collar and grabbing your heels, letting them dangle by the straps from your fingers as you unplugged your phone from its charger.

Peeking through the door to the baby room, she was still sleeping soundly, baby monitor muted on her end, and you clicked the door shut softly, padding down the stairs towards the couple who were bickering uselessly about the neighbours. They turned to look at you as you entered, the woman lighting up as you entered.

“God, I wish I could still look that sexy!” She mumbled, her husband wrapping his arms around her waist and placing a kiss to your cheek.

“I think you’re sexy!” He protested, and both of you laughed as she turned in his arms.

“You’re only saying that because my boobs are still all swollen from breastfeeding.” The words were grumbled out, but she leaned up, kissing him softly. The glasses in the cabinets rattled slightly as the song changed and your sister broke away, storming across the room and peeking out of her curtains. “That’s it! I’m going over there! I can’t take this!”

“Maybe you should calm down a little bit, before doing that!” I suggested, and she turned her glare from the house to me, and I bit the inside of my cheek to stop from smiling in the face of her rath.

“They said to go to them if it got too loud but that they would try and be quiet, this isn’t quiet!” She yelled, amping down her own volume as sound spiked on the baby monitor strapped to her waist, but the infant merely rolled over in her sleep, never waking.

“Well, have you been over to ask them to quiet down?”

“I.. I haven’t. We haven’t, but we should.” She agreed, nodding to herself and busying herself, grabbing her shoes and motioning for her husband to follow, throwing one of his sneakers at him from the hall. Pulling on the pumps, you laughed at the pair of them, who grabbed their jackets and opened the door. “We will be back in a minute. With silence!” With that, the front door slammed shut, and you rolled your eyes affectionately, hopping up onto the stool closest to the window and leaning down to pull on your heels.

Your could see your sister knocking on the door, and to your surprise, despite the noise, someone actually answered, though you couldn’t see who. Lacing up the ribbons at your ankles, you secured the heels to your feet and hopped down, a good few inches taller, making you feel powerful, and you gave a few test steps, the click on the kitchen tile floor making you feel even better.

Glancing up, the two were heading back down the path of next doors garden, giving each other a high five as the music lessened considerably, an acceptable level of quiet falling through the air. They turned around, however, as the door reopened, and they headed back up towards the house, going up the steps of the porch.

“No, no, no! Where are you going? Come back!” You muttered, tapping on the window, futile attempts failing. “Dammit, don’t you dare go in that house. Do not go- and they’ve gone in.” You whispered, breath fogging up the glass as you stepped back. Leaving your bag on the side, made your way over to the cabinets, finding a bottle of tequila you’d gifted your sister as a reward for getting through child birth, promising the two of you would share it when she was no longer breastfeeding.

Unscrewing the cap, you uttered an apology and a promise to buy a new one, before taking a deep swig. The alcohol burned through you, a warm feeling settling across your body as a groan tore from your lips. Thinking back, it had been a long time since you had drank, either. Since months before your sister had even given birth, as you’d been at her beck and call, and then caring for the baby.

“When did I become a fuckin’ mom?” You giggled to yourself, glancing up at the kitchen wall clock, before raising it to you lips once again, deciding to wait it out, a decision that was rapidly becoming regrettable.

You were a good quarter of the way through the tequila now, and half an hour had passed. You needed your night out. It didn’t matter if there was booze in your boobs, you were a college student and you were not the once breastfeeding, you should be the one out drinking.

Taking a final gulp, you placed the bottle back in the high cupboards and grabbed your phone, tucking it into your pocket. With that liquid courage, you headed out of the door, cutting across the grass and up the steps of the neighbours porch. Knocking on the door, you stepped back, flicking your hair over your shoulder as the door opened, light and noise flooding out into the dark and quiet street.

“Shit, you’re hot.” The drunken boy mumbled, cheeks heating up as you raised an eyebrow at him. “Sorry, I.. I absolutely should not have said that, I don’t even know you.” He grinned, a beam pulling at your own lips. He was attractive, you’d give him that. The black skinny jeans hugged his ass perfectly, and the tight red t-shirt he wore accented his eyes and hair perfectly.

He let go of the door, his other hand coming into view as he leaned against the door post, and your eyebrows raised as you looked at the bottle in his hand, a light chuckle leaving your lips.

He raised the bottle, brown eyes widening. “What, you don’t approve of?” He gestured towards you and you shook your head, a small smirk tugging at your lips.

“I do, actually. That particular blend, it’s an acquired taste, I’ve never met anyone else that drinks it.” You confessed, and he stood up straight, a messy grin pulling at his pink lips.

“You drink this too?” His voice was laced with joy, and he stepped closer to you, over the threshold.

“I was just drinking it! It’s my favourite.”

His lips twisted into a smirk at your words, and he let his eyes flicker over you, before coming back up to yours. “Now what’s a beautiful girl like you doing drinking alone, huh?”

“Who said I was alone?” You countered, and he shrugged, taking a sip from the bottle, and you diverted your eyes from watching the way his lips melded around the top of the bottle, the way his jaw sharpened even further as he took a gulp of the amber liquid, or the way his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. Licking his lips, he glanced around the neighbourhood.

“The lights in all the cars around us are off, and empty, plus you’ve been drinking so you didn’t get driven here, meaning you live close, but nobody came over here with you. You’re all dolled up, all pretty like, so you’re definitely on your way out, or on your way back, but your lipstick isn't smudged, it was either a really bad date, or you weren’t with anyone. Plus, I met most of the neighbours today, there’s no one but us young enough for you around here, gorgeous.” He mumbled, the confusing jumble of overthought signs making you giggle, his eyes lighting up at the sound.

“Interesting analysis, detective.”

“I should hope so, I am studying psychology and profiling.” He all but whispered the words, leaning in towards you slightly as if it was a secret. “So, not that I’m complaining, but what brings a breathtaking girl like yourself up to my porch then?”

“I’m looking for my sister.” You looked over his shoulder, spotting her with a shot in each hand, and before you could move, she’d taken both of them, cheering loudly. “Oh, my God. Did she just do shots?” Your eyes widened as you stepped forwards, the boy turning to look over his shoulder.

When he turned back, his face was considerably closer to yours, eyes wide. “No way is that your sister!” He grinned, practically buzzing with excitement and you groaned, your eyes still fixed on her.

“I was supposed to go out tonight! Why does she get to party?” You whined, his laugh, smooth like honey, in your ear caught your attention.

“We invited them in for a drink, I think they decided to stay! She said she had the baby monitor on her, so she was okay.” You thought it over, happy she was finally having a good time, and your eyes landed back on her, her grin bringing you joy, you knew she deserved it but you couldn’t shake the feeling of disappointment. “You can still party too, you know.” Your gaze snapped down to your hand, the boy’s fingertips brushing against your own, and you weren’t sure when he’d moved so close, but his breath was practically mixing with yours, the sweet but spiced taste of tequila hanging off it, temptingly.

“I’m supposed to be going out to see my friends.”

“Come and see my friends. Come one, have a drink.” He brought the bottle up between the two of you, the smell tempting you in even further and his smirk was all your eyes could focus on. Taking the bottle, you took a large swig, topping up the slight intoxication you already had, a sigh escaping you and you knew you’d given in. His thumb reached up, wiping a stray drop from your lip before he sucked the digit between his own lips, your eyes focused on him as he did, your red-painted bottom lip clamped between your teeth. “Can I have one dance, gorgeous? Then if you want to leave, you totally can.”

“One dance?” You caved, a smile breaking over his lips as his fingers laced with yours, pulling you through the door as he stepped backwards into the hazy atmosphere. Your grip on his hand tightened as he led you through the house, the bottle still hanging from your fingers and he guided you to the centre of the floor, and he spun to face you once again. His hands found your waist and he pulled you close, your arms wrapping around his neck. He leaned forward, his cheek pressed to yours as his lips brushed your ear. “Can I get your name, gorgeous, or are you still going for that mysterious, sexy vibe?”

With a laugh in his ear, you gave him your name. He leaned back, his nose almost brushing yours, and you pulled back slightly, taking a sip from the bottle and handing it back to him. “Do I get yours in return?” He took the bottle from you, raising it to his lips and keeping you waiting, a wink in your directions as he saw you watch him.

“I’m Stiles, Stiles Stilinski.” His voice barely carried over the loud music, but the distinctive sound caught your ears and you lit up, eyes widening.

“You’re what the hell a Stiles is! Makes sense now.” You teased, and his eyebrows shot up, jaw hanging slack for a second.

“My reputation precedes me?”

“Lydia was telling me about you all earlier, when you met my sister and her husband.” He hummed, thinking over the statement, a hand rubbing across his jaw before he brought it back down to your waist. His grip was tighter than before, and he finally started moving.

Slowly at first, his hips were swaying to the beat, head tipped back slightly as his body rolled and moved, seductively but subtly, and you weren’t sure whether it was intentional or whether you were just falling in deep.

Throwing caution to the wind, you swilled the last remnants of the drink around the bottle, before swallowing it all in one, swift gulp, placing it down on a nearby counter and focusing all your attention on the boy holding you. Turning yourself in his arms, you gripped his hands in your hips, dragging them across your body until you were held flush against him.

His chuckle ran loud in your ear, and you let your head roll back onto his shoulder, your hips swaying in time with his. Grinding back against him, you heard his sharp intake of breath, and he just continued to sway his body side to side.

“Come on, Stiles. Are you gonna’ sway all night or are you going to dance with me? You only get one, remember?” You teased, a low growl in your ear and he nipped at your earlobe, before turning you in his arms, hands right on your waist and your nose bumping against his.

Your heart was beating rapidly in your chest, pounding against your ribs as he exhaled, warm breath washing over your lips and you dragged your eyes up to meet his, already watching you. Slipping his hand down, he let it slide over your ass before pulling you flush against him, his hand squeezing, roughly, and you bit your lip, his smirk widening entirely.

He thrust upwards into you once, before rolling his hips forwards, grinding them against you slightly and moving your body with his. He was light on his feet, bouncing up and down as he ground into you, your hips swaying in his grasp. The tip of his nose trailed along your jaw as your head tilted back, and he leaned the two of you forwards, hands slipping down to the exposed skin of your thighs as he placed a soft kiss against the column of your throat.

Spinning in his arms, hand coming up behind you as you looped it around his head behind you, his lips kissing your shoulder before he straightened up, your fingers in his hair. You dragged one of his hands up from your thigh, fingertips catching against the hem of your dress; which had already risen up considerably.

You placed it on your waist, higher, his fingers brushing beneath your tits, contained by the thin material as your hand closed over his, settling it atop your ribs. Your hips rotated back into his as he ground his crotch up into you.

The bass of the song deepened, chorus hitting, and you leaned forwards slightly, both his hands finding your waist as he thrust up towards you, bulge in his pants hitting against your crotch, dress ridden up and only panties in his way.

He repeated the motion, your body jumping forwards again, a moan slipping past your lips for him. Holding you tightly, he pulled you to him, grinding up lightly as his hand splayed out across the base of your back, which arched in his grip, trailing in his fingers along you before reaching your shoulder, pulling you up against him.

Turning in his grip, you faced him, pressing a brief kiss to the edge of his mouth before sinking slowly, hips swaying as you sank before him until you were crouching. Your eyes, hazy and seductive, stayed locked on his, wide and eager, and you bounced twice, before looping your fingers through his belt loops, shooting up to stand before him and tugging him flush against you, lips brushing.

The song ended, and the look in his eyes, the way he’d watched you gave you confidence, and you smirked. “That’s how you dance, Stiles.” The words spilled from your lips and he huffed a laugh out. Stepping back from him, he let his held breath go, and you backed away from him. Turning from him and strutting towards the door.

You could feel him hot on your heels, but he reaches around you, opening the door and holding it for you to step through. The cold air washing over your skin was a relief, you hadn't realised quite how warm it was inside until now, and it was a welcome feeling as the breeze washed over your skin.

“You’re leaving, then?” He was slightly breathless, hair spiked up in odd angles at the back from where your fingers had been tangled in it, and you took him in, nibbling in your lower lip softly.

“One dance, as promised.” You smiled, and he laughed loudly, nodding his head. “So, are you going to see your friends now?”

Pulling your phone from your pocket, your eyes widened at the time, a slight yelp escaping you, barely audible but there. “I didn’t realise how much time I spent with you, I think I’ll just head home.”

“Time flies when you’re having fun.” He teased, tongue poking out to lick over his lips, eyes fixed on yours and he once again leaned against the doorpost, a good look on him, his arms crossing over his chest. His biceps flexed at the action, veins on his forearm becoming more apparent.

You hummed, nodding in agreement and tightening your jacket around you. “I’ll be seeing you, Stiles.”

“Miss you already, gorgeous.” You leaned in, pressing a kiss to his cheek and leaving a red imprint, before backing away.

“Thanks for the dance, and the drinks.” With that, you made your way down the steps, making your way across the garden before your hand found the cool metal of the door handle to your own home, and you stepped inside. Stiles, however, couldn’t tear his gaze from you, watching through the small glass window beside the door as you unstrapped your heels, kicking them off and hanging up your jacket.

You disappeared further into the house, out of his sight and he ran a hand over his face, shaking his mind clear and turning back to the raging party behind him, still hours away from even dying down, but something in him felt different, the door closing behind him.

Your feet were relieved to hit the flat floor, and you made your way up the stairs, a smile on your face. It wasn’t how you usually acted, not at all. Grinding against strangers at a frat party, letting him push against you, hands on your body, touching you and kissing your skin. You felt almost like you should feel bad about it, but you couldn’t because something about him felt different.

Tugging the dress over your head, you caught a scent of your own perfume, mixed with whatever cologne he’d had on still clinging to the fabric, and you smiled, the combination working surprisingly well before you dropped it with the rest of your dirty clothes in the hamper. Snapping the clasp of the fancy bra you’d worn open, you let it drop to the floor, pulling a pale blue cropped camisole over your head, the loose material a change to the skin tight outfit you’d had on moments prior.

You grabbed a pair of comfy pants from your drawer, tossing them on your bed and pulling a handful of makeup wipes from a packet, scrubbing the mix from your face, the contour slightly smudged from the thin layer of sweat that had built up, your lipstick partially licked off from the many times the honey-eyed boy had you nibbling on it, or left wrapped around the neck of an empty bottle. Dropping them in the bin, you rolled your eyes at the daft but joyous look on your face being reflected back at you in the mirror, and turned away, reaching for the pants.

Just as you finished tugging the pale pair of sweats up your legs, a gentle but loud knocking sounded through the silent home and you froze, but no crying sounded. Grabbing a scrunchie from your dresser, you headed down the stairs. Pulling your hair up into a messy bun, you swung the door open, lips parting as your jaw dropped slightly. Stiles stood before you, but he looked different. He still wore the tight red t-shirt, but he’d swapped out his skinny jeans and unlaced boots for sweatpants that hung low on his hips and pair of dirty adidas trainers.

“I don’t do that often. Never, actually.” He spoke, words rushed and he gestured with his arms slightly.

Your eyebrows furrowed, lips curling into a confused smile. “What?”

“Dance. With strange girls. I just wanted you to know.” His words trailed off into a whisper at the end, and he scratched the back of his neck, hands sinking to his side and my lip was once again caught between my teeth, suppressing a giggle.

“You’ve changed from your party attire?”

“I figured you would’ve, and I didn’t want our time to end just yet. I was kinda hoping we could.. hang out.” His eyes were full of hope, lips holding a cute smile as he held up a bottle of merlot in his hands as offering.

“Don’t you have a party to host? You are president of the fraternity, shouldn’t you be at your own housewarming party?”

“I’d rather be with you.” The words went straight to your heart, a soft look filling your eyes as you mulled it over, head tilting to the side.

Opening the door wider for him, the smile broke, showing his teeth and he took a step forward towards the kitchen, and you clicked the door shut quietly, following him. “I brought wine. Stole it from one of the girls. You got a coupla' glasses, gorgeous?” He placed the bottle on the counter, turning to face you.

“I can grab you a glass, but I don’t like red wine. Hate it, actually.” A heavy sigh left his lips, but not of disappointment, of relief, and his head threw back slightly as his shoulders dropped, relaxing slightly as tension between the two of you eased.

“Thank God! Shit’s disgusting, but I figured I’d try and be classy, or whatever..” You rolled your eyes fondly at his comment, turning to the cupboards. Bringing out two tumblers, you reach up, stretching on your tippy toes to reach the bottle you’d placed back earlier that night, turning to him and showing him it.

“How about this?”

“You truly do know the way to my heart, darlin’.” He grinned, taking it and the glasses from you, waiting for you to lead. He followed you through to the living room, placing them out on the small coffee table sat snugly between two couches. Sitting with his back against the armrest, his leg stretched out along the cushions, the other sitting with his foot flat on the floor.

You placed your phone on a speaker, soft music flowing quietly through the room and he simply watched you move about your space, hair dangling gently in your face as you glided around. Pouring two drinks, you held them both in your hands, surprising him by sitting between his outstretched legs on the couch, back to his chest as you leaned into him and his chin tucked onto your shoulder. “Well, hi there.” He teased, voice low and a laugh rumbled in his chest behind you.

“This okay?” You questioned, the fingers of one of his hands taking a glass from you, as the other arm snaked loosely around your waist.

“Is this?” He lifted the arm slightly, motioning that he was talking about it, and you hummed in affirmation, your own hand settling over his on your stomach. A comfortable silence fell over both of you, your head rolling back onto his shoulder, his cologne once again filling your nostrils.

“You smell good. Could smell you on my dress before, it’s nice.”

“Well, thank you, gorgeous. Here I was, worried I just smelled like weed and sweat.” He joked, and you scoffed in humour, squeezing his hand and rolling in his arms slightly. “This isn’t weird, is it?”

You sat up, looking at him curiously. “What?”

“I didn’t want to invade. I didn’t want you to feel like you had to invite me in. I-I just.. God, there’s something about you! I don’t know. You intrigue me, I want to be around you, I want to know more than what I got in one dance, if that’s okay with you.” Sitting up, you placed your glass on the table to your side, choosing to face him, your legs crossing under you as you sat up straight, your hands resting on your lap.

“What do you want to know?” His hand reached out, lacing lazily with one of yours and he trailed his eyes up from your joined hands, along your arm to your face, eyes swimming with questions.

“Everything.”

“Well that does not clear anything up.” You mocked lightly, and he barked out a laugh, eyes crinkling at the sides.

“Okay, tell me what you’re doing living with your sister and her husband and their newborn baby, if that’s not a sensitive subject?” You raised an eyebrow at him, nodding.

“Good question, I’m impressed. She was worried she’d lose all sense of herself if she had a baby, she still wanted to have fun, and she didn’t want to stop being her just because she was a mom. It’s always been me and her against the world, so when she became pregnant, I promised I’d be there for them. One night, she was panicking about affording a live in nanny to help out, and I told her I’d live with her for a year to help out.” You shrugged, picking your glass back up, taking a sip as he gazed at you.

“That’s so.. selfless of you. Amazing, actually.” You waved your hand, brushing it off.

“Clearly, I’m doing a good job.” You tilted your head towards his house, and he laughed an agreement, amusement filling the room. “My turn. What got you into criminal profiling?”

“Oooh, I like that one. My dad is a police officer, since I was little, I’ve been stealing his case files and going through them. Guess a hobby just became a career.”

“And you like it?” You pushed, and he nodded, sitting up slightly.

“I love it. I have a board, a crime board up in my room, I think you’d like it. I’ll show you sometime.”

“Inviting me to your room already, Stilinski?”

He sat up fully, leaning towards you and tilted his head, cocky smirk back. “You’re just special like that.” He lay back down, hand popped under his head and he finished the drink in his glass, and you reach for the bottle, refilling his glass as he murmured a thanks, thinking over his next question. “Are you in college?”

“No, I’m not. I take classes online sometimes, but no actual college. If I were, I’d be a college senior, though, just like you, I believe? I wanted to travel and experience the world, but things always came up, so it hasn’t actually happened. I’ve travelled about as far as the movie theatre, before moving here, of course.”

“Well that makes us match. I want to travel, I really do. I want to see the world, but college doesn’t allow you much time for that, so that’s what my plans are after I graduate. I have it all mapped out.” He grinned, thinking on his plans. Opening your mouth to reply, a loud cry sounded through the baby monitor, and your head snapped to the device on the counter beside you, and you shot up. Shooting an apology look to Stiles, he shook his head, tipping it to motion toward the stairs. “Go, go! It’s fine!”

You thanked him, leaning down to press a kiss to his cheek as you passed him by, dashing up the stairs quickly to the young girls room. Little legs kicked up in the air angrily as little fists were bunched up in the material of her onesie, and you scoop her up under her arms, lifting her to your chest carefully. She lay in one of your arms, her fingers now curling and tugging angrily on the material of your camisole as you shushed her, her loud wails drowning out your calming sounds.

She was relentless, her crying not letting up as her nose scrunched up, her eyes the same and face red from the exertion of wailing, ad you let out a sigh, your own eyes watering at the sounds of her pleas. Leaning down to turn on a soft lamp so you could see, you bounced her gently.

“Skin contact, it’s what she wants.” The voice startled you and you turned to the door, Stiles standing there and his gaze directed to the floor before you and he waited for your nod before stepping into the babies room. Taking place before you, he held his hands up, palms spread before you. “May I?” Receiving another nod, he lifted the baby in your arms, changing her position so her wet little cheek pressed against the bare skin of your shoulder, face nuzzling into your neck as her cries almost instantly dimmed down to cooing, before the noises stopped completely.

“Oh, my God!” You whispered, eyes meeting his and his hand was spread out across her back, not pushing or pressing, just resting and spreading warmth from his big hand to her little body. His other hand found your waist as he stood close you, eyes fixed on the little baby in your arms. “You got her to stop crying. Thank you, I’ll remember that little trick.”

You rocked her in your arms gently, her breathing evening out in the quiet as she slowly drifted back off to sleep, and you sang a soft tune to her under your breath. He leaned down, pressing a brush of a kiss to the top of her head, your eyes watching his movements, heat flushing your cheeks. “You look good with a baby, you know?” The words caught you off guard, and your eyes raised to the brown ones that were rapidly becoming comfortable and familiar.

“You think?”

“Oh, yeah, definitely. All my paternal instincts are kicking in, it’s like overdrive right now, and I don’t even know this baby.” His words made you laugh. “Do you want kids one day?”

“I do. I want to see the world first and experience everything, but I do. Do you?” Your gaze turned from the infant to look at him, his own gaze resting on your niece as she slept soundly in your arms.

“Look at her, how could I not?” His eyes came up to yours, brows cinching as he tried to decipher the look you were giving him. “What?”

You didn’t answer, choosing instead to lean into him, your lips meeting his in a kiss, his lips moving against yours slowly and delicately, testing the waters, before pushing into you slightly, fingers flexing on your hip and gripping tighter. It was like his lips were made to be on yours, fitting perfectly against one another and you sighted slightly against him, the soft but slightly chapped pair contrasting your own smooth ones, but it worked so well. The baby in your arms shuffled, readjusting herself happily and you broke away to look at her. Turning, you stretched your arms out towards the crib and lay her back in her bed, tucking her in and rocking the item gently as she settled in.

Taking Stiles’ hand in your own, you turned out the light, pulling him from the room and shutting the door before looking back up at him. “What was that for?”

“Because you’re like no guy I’ve ever met, I barely know you, and yet, I know I want to.” He blinked at you, free hand coming up to settle on your cheek as he leaned down into you, catching you in another kiss. His lips slanted over yours, more passion this time, pushing against you as the fingers still wound with your own tightened, every part of him holding you close and throwing you off balance, the only thing you knew was him, his grip on you, his hands holding you up as he kissed you.

“You’re like no girl I’ve ever met, and I barely know you, and yet, I know I want to.” He teased, the words being mumbled against your lips as he pulled back, the burn for oxygen too much and your foreheads were pressed together. Pulling back, he cleared his throat, guiding you back downstairs with a soft smile and his hand holding yours.

Your playlist had long since ended, your chatting filling the space and you moved to the bottle, finding it laying empty beside you and Stiles, a pout forming on your lips as he finished his own glass. “When did we finish this?” You groaned, standing from the couch on shaky legs and stretching yourself out, grabbing the empty glasses and bottles before making your way to the kitchen.

Hands on your waist startled you, a chuckle leaving the boy as you huffed, chastising him falsely for scaring you. “It’s late.” He mumbled, kissing your shoulder from behind, and you turned in his arms, glancing up at the clock, slightly shocked by the time. The party was dying, last few people stumbling out in the early hours but a lot of people had just passed out, you could see them from peeking out of the window, a laugh on your lips at the thought of your sister and her husband passed out like the old days. “I should go.”

He turned you, nose bumping yours and you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling his lips down to meet yours for a chaste kiss, a happy smile on his lips as he got what he’d been hinting at, your lips finally back on his. “Or you could stay?” He pulled back, eyes wider than they had been.

“Do you want me to.. to stay?” He questioned, and you nodded, leaning up to briefly kiss him again before pulling back, flicking the lights off in the kitchen and leaving your phone where it charged on the speaker stand. You turned, checking over everything and your hand swiping over the wall to flick the last of the downstairs light off, and Stiles stood before you, slightly anxious as he wrung his hands together. “Where do you want me?”

“What?”

“To sleep. Where do you want me?” you chuckled, stepping towards him, your chest pressed to his and you took his wrists in your hands.

“With me.”

“Oh.” You pressed a kiss to his cheek, trailing his hands from your waist to cup your ass, his fingers flexing as he squeezed instinctually. “Oh.”

“You’re so cute.” You mumbled, his lips finding yours as he walked you backwards towards the stairs, your feet pushing you up one step, and you were the same height as him now, leaning into the kiss as he groped at your ass, a small moan leaving your lips and into his mouth.

“You’re sure you want this? I don’t want you to feel like you have to, or anything, I will happily leave right now if you d-” cutting him off, you pulled him back into you, yours lips catching his in the hottest and most frantic kiss yet, his willpower and restraint wearing away little by little, your teeth catching his bottom lip and pulling on it as you pull back.

“You’re not going anywhere, unless it’s upstairs to fuck me.”

“Well, okay.” Spinning, you headed up the stairs, his hand landing on your ass in a slap as you went, a laugh leaving your lips when you reached the top, the spot stinging deliciously. Catching up to you, the boy, kissed you deeply, walking you backwards and you mumbled a location against his lips. His fingertips were burning into your skin as he pushed beneath the material of the camisole you wore, and he was inching it up and over your head.

Kicking the bedroom door shut behind you both, he dropped the material to the floor, and you tugged his own t-shirt up to follow, the item soon meeting the carpet, just as yours had. “Shit, you’re hot.” He quoted himself from earlier in the night, a smirk tugging on swollen lips as his hands came up to cup your bare tits, thumbs brushing against hardened nipples, a gasp leaving your lips as your eyes fluttered shut.

Pleasure surged through your body, the rough pads of his fingers brushing over you, smoothing across your skin and setting every inch on fire. His eyes had darkened, a blazing lust burning in them as he took you in, plump and swollen bottom lip caught between his teeth.

Leaning down, he grabbed the backs of your thighs, lifting you up and throwing you down onto your bed, your body bouncing slightly from the impact. His hands soon found the covers either side of your head as his body rolled down into you, lips finding your jaw as his kissed his way along your skin, descending further and further down, trailing his tongue along the flushed skin of your neck.

Reaching the base, your back arched as he reached a certain point, a sensitive spot, and he closed his lips around the patch, sucking harshly on the skin, biting and nibbling. He was leaving a mark, a big one, and arousal fooded your body at the idea, a moan tearing from your lips into the heavy air.

Your fingers once again messing up the air at the back of his head as you clutched onto it, weaving through the soft threads. Soothing the spot with his tongue, he continued down, kissing along the tops of your breasts and you took in a sharp breath, anticipation rampaging through you. Sucking one of your nipples into his mouth, his tongue swept across it, rough and hot and he closed his teeth ever so softly around the bud, his fingers twisting the other one, pleasure surging your body as a moan left your lips, bouncing off the walls and echoing within the room.

His fingers danced along your sides, leaving goosebumps in their wake and they danced along the hemline of your sweats, eyes coming back up to meet yours for approval. Gaining it, he tugged them, and your underwear down your legs, dragging them slowly along your skin, impatience running through you as you whined, urging him to hurry. Discarding the garments and settling before you, he kissed at your calf, fingers teasing and dragging along your soft skin, nails scraping barely in tracks as you let out a shaky breath, a dark chuckle being released against your thighs. “Please, Stiles..”

“What do you want, gorgeous, tell me what you want and you can have it.” His voice was raspy, deeper than before, arousal and lust dripping from his tone, and your legs squeezed together, giving you the friction you so craved and needed, but it barely relieved you.

“Want you to do something, with your fingers, mouth, dick, I don’t care. Anything, I just need you!”

“Your wish, my command.” Propping yourself up on your elbows you looked at him, his hands closing over your knees as he parted your legs, thighs spread wide from him and he dove in, liking a stripe from your entrance to your clit, taking the button between his lips and flicking his tongue across it.

Your arms gave out under you, your head once again finding the pillows as you collapsed into them, eyes rolling back at the pleasure he was giving you. Circling a finger around your entrance, the long digit pushed into you slowly, pumping a few times as he got to know what makes you tick.

Curling his finger upwards, your body spasmed in his grasp, a growl leaving his lips as you clenched around the digit, and you could feel his smirk pressed against your pussy, clit pulsing as he licked at it, slurping graphically and your body shook. Adding a second finger, he scissored them, stretching you out and curling them in a come hither motion, your hips jumping from the bed as heat shot to your core.

His unoccupied hand found it's way over your stomach, fingers spreading wide over your skin and pressing you back down into the bed, holding your hips to the mattress. The tips of the fingers buried within in brushed your g-spot, your fist coming up to cover your mouth as you moaned, wantonly, into it. Speeding up the pace his fingers were thrusting, and he finally let your roll your hips down into his hand, his thumb coming to press down roughly on your clit as he licked around his fingers, the coil in your stomach snapping at the sensation.

You clenched tightly around his fingers, legs shaking and eyes squeezed shut as you came for him, his lips kissing along you thighs as he encouraged you, dragging it out and making it last. Pulling his fingers from you, he licked them clean making sure to give you a show as he languidly sucked your juices up, hovering over you.

“How was that, all you wanted and more?”

“Incredible, fucking fantastic. I really love those fingers.” You mumbled, taking them in your hands and bringing them to your own lips. He watched, anticipation building as you took them between your own lips, sinking down along his hand as his fingers were nestled in your mouth, swallowing around him and licking at them, his eyes widening. A low groan fell from his lips as he retracted his fingers, cupping your cheek as he looked down at you, eyes flicking across your face.

Leaning up to kiss him, your taste still coating his tongue as it pushed its way into your mouth, and you battled your tongue with his, panted breaths and shallow moans being shared between the two of you as you shuffled. Flipping the both of you over as you straddled his lap, his cock pressed against his boxers as you landed in his lap, grinding against the material of his sweats.

Both of you panted at the action and he thrust up into you weakly, the friction helping him too. Sitting up on your knees, he shuffled his sweats down, kicking them off at his feet and his cock sprung up against his stomach. He was long and thick, prominent vein tracking the side and your mouth watered at the idea of getting to trace it with your tongue after.

Taking him in your hand, a whimper left his lips as you pumped him a few times, thumb flicking across the head and swirling the precum around, his hips stuttering at your motions. Licking the palm of your hand, you brought your hand down to him, holding him at his base and working over him slowly, his eyes fluttering shut, before lining him up and sinking onto his cock. His face buried on your neck as he did, moans breathed out against your skin as you lowered yourself, until he was fully settled within you.

“Jesus, you’re so tight, gorgeous. So tight and wet, all for me.” He muttered, your hips rolling as you rode down into him, finding a pattern, circling your hips and trying out different movements. You found your rhythm, his hands settling on your hips as he sucked marks into the skin he had access to, leading all the way from your tits to your collarbones.

One of your hands held his shoulder, fingernails digging crescent moons into the skin there, and the other was holding tightly to a patch of his hair, your hips rising and falling as they met his, skin slapping skin filling the room, muscles burning and cunt squeezing around him. He lay back, and you fell forwards as he fell back, hair spilling from the bun it had been tied up in and curtaining the both of your faces. Your lips found his, his hands gripping your hips as your knees supported your weight. He thrust up into you, lips detaching as your mouth dropped into an ‘O’ at his actions, cock hitting deep within you and you tits bounced, and he repeated the action.

“Fuck, Stiles. Harder, please, I need you to fuck me harder.” Your begs reached his ears, and he nodded, catching your mouth in a rough kiss, dominating and aggressive as he thrust into your rapidly, fingers trailing over your ass and pinching lightly. A squeak left your lips at the action, before they travelled further, gripping at the tops of your legs.

“Gonna’ fuck you so good, gorgeous.”

Holding onto both of your thighs, the boy turned you both, still buried within you and your back once again found the covers. His arms caged you in, legs wound tightly around his waist and he pulled back, thrusting back into you, roughly. A cry left your lips, and he dragged his own to yours, panting into your mouth as you silenced each others moans. His hips snapped into yours at high speeds, the sound of skin on skin complementing both of your hushed moans.

The bed frame was rocking, squeaking slightly and tapping the wall, but neither of you cared, the pleasure building and you slipped and hand between the two of you. Rubbing on your clit, hard and fast, you were already sensitive, and he bit down on your lower lip, throwing you over the edge.

You shook beneath him, hugging his cock tightly, fluttering and clenching around him and he swallowed every sound you made, before burying his face in your neck, hips stuttering as he brought himself to the edge, pulling out at the last minute.

He rolled onto his back beside you, hand working over himself, slick with your arousal and you leaned down, taking his tip between your lips and sucking tightly, tongue tracing the underside of his head before sinking your mouth down as far as you could go, and that's all it took for him to explode.

Hot ribbons of cum filled your mouth, coating your tongue as you sucked around him, almost pornographic moans filling the room as he came down from his high, the muscles in his stomach loosening and you swallowed around him, a desperate cry sounding as you did, before releasing his cock with a pop.

“That was so hot.” He mumbled, holding an arm out for you to collapse into, and you did, rolling into his side, arm looping around his waist. You buried your face in his neck, his fingers running along your skin gently, pulling the covers up and over both of you.

He reached over, fingers fumbling with the switch to the lamp emitting a soft glow from the bedside table, before finally switching it off, plunging the room into darkness. Silence took over the pair of you, your bodies pressed together, legs tangled and you stared into the dark, only the soft sounds of your breathing and beating hearts filling the space. You closed your eyes, holding onto him tightly, and he did the same.

“I think I really like you, Stiles.” You spoke the words through a yawn, and you felt a pair of lips press a kiss to your temple as you drifted into a comfortable sleep.

“I really like you too.”

Waking up in the morning, a loud banging sounded repeatedly at the front door and you groaned, rolling over in your bed. For a second, you panicked, Stiles missing from your side, but you could see his shirt still on the floor, his phone on the floor where it had fallen from his pocket, and when you focused, you could hear him moving about downstairs.

Pulling the red t-shirt over your head, you grabbed a fresh pair of panties, tugging them up your legs and dashing down the stairs. Unlocking the front door, your sister stumbled into your arms, groaning loudly, her husband having the same reaction and he dropped his shoes and hers, as well as their jackets to the floor to be dealt with later.

“Hangover, much?” You teased and she groaned again, holding her head in her hands. Rubbing your eyes, you tried to work your fingers through your hair, hoping to make it look somewhat more presentable.

“I forgot how much I love being a mum and not having the time to be able to drink, it really helps prevent hangovers.” She muttered, stumbling further into her house and bracing herself on the wall. “I need a glass of water, and to see my baby. I am so sorry about last night, I promise it’ll never happen again, and you can go out tonight! I swear!”

You chuckled, dismissing her apology and Stiles rounded the corner, a smirk on his lips as he stood in his sweats, shirtless in the kitchen doorway. “That’s good news, because I was hoping to take you on a first date tonight, and now I know you’re free, so you can’t refuse!” He grinned, your sister and brother-in-law looking up at him, mouths hanging open as they looked between the both of you.

“Is that.. Stiles? Standing with no shirt on in my kitchen?” Your sister turned to you, red heat crawling up your cheeks and you nodded, watching as he disappeared again and you followed him, your sister and her husband hot on your tail. “More importantly, is that bacon?” She gasped upon seeing the two breakfast plates Stiles had laid out, launching towards the meals and digging into yours, taking then bacon from it, first.

Her husband followed suit, taking the other plate with zero regard to the meals not actually belonging to them. Gurgling happily in her highchair was your niece, and your eyebrows shot up to your hairline as you turned to look at him. “You got her up?”

“She was crying, I didn’t want her to wake you.” He shrugged, standing at your side and kissing your temple, and you turned, planting your lips on his gently. With a grin, he returned the affection and your sister cleared her throat, a smile on her lips.

“You helped her look after my baby?” She asked, pointing between the two of you, and then down to the infant. Stiles merely nodded, a somewhat scared look on his face as her eyes narrowed momentarily, analysing him. Her gaze was directed back to you, a smile breaking out on her lips as Stiles’ arms around your waist tightened. “I approve of this one. He’s a keeper.” She returned to her food, and you turned to look at him, his gaze already on you.

“Since our food has gone to a better place, how about I take you for pancakes and coffee?” His offer was sweet, your heart jumping at the fact he’d bothered with it at all, and you couldn’t stop the wide beam that was taking over your lips, your head tilting in a nod, causing him to return the loving look you’d been giving him.

“Breakfast for a first date? You truly know the way to my heart.” You teased him, using the words he had used the night before, a chuckle escaping him and he leaned down, pecking your lips. “I’d love that.”

#stiles stilinski #Stiles #stiles stilinski teen wolf #stiles stilinski smut #stiles stilinski imagine #dylan #dylan o'brien #dylan obrien #dylan o'brien teen wolf #dylan obrien au #dylan obrien x reader #dylan obrien smut #dylan obrien stiles stilinski #dylan obrien fic #dylan obrien fluff #teen wolf #teen wolf fanfiction #dylan obrien teen wolf #teen wolf imagine

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kim-lexie · 5 years ago

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crash landing on you.

woah...if a drama ever could crash land, oh i mean ‘descend’ into my heart it was this one. it descended from the greatest drama writers and has been placed into my list of top dramas of all time. like i’m telling you it’s up there with ‘scarlet heart ryeo’, ‘something in the rain’ and ‘mr. sunshine’. seriously it will not disappoint you and i would give it 100 out of 10.

overview.

this drama follows se-ri, a ceo of an impressive cosmetic-lifestyle brand in seoul. she goes to test drive some of her paragliding products, and a nasty storms ends up sending her to north korea. after landing, she soon meets ri jung-hyuk, a captain in north korea monitoring the boarder. the drama follows him protecting her to deliver her home to south korea, and how their relationship flourishes in the diversity they face from two very different sides of the boarder.

there is romance, family drama, political issues, and cultural differences that are presented in this drama. and i was absolutely there for it all. i ended up writing down my thoughts and fave moments from each episode. because from the start i knew this drama would wreck my heart, and i wanted to look back at all the good times, and times i cried my eyes out of course. so i posted a week-by-week playback from the drama so if you want to see my random thoughts from each week here is the link week-by-week playback.

*spoiler alert* they are ahead, you have been warned.

i have many thoughts, and i am writing this the day i finished the drama. so i will do my best to touch on everything that really struck me throughout this drama. i may even have to go back and update later on, because it is a lot to process.

characters.

i appreciated that we followed so many characters and that the characters were dynamic and held their own for the plot and development of the story.

ri jeong-hyeok and yoon se-ri. their relationship developed so beautifully. i loved how he had a heart to protect her immediately. from their first meeting and him directing her how to leave the north, and her running towards it just showed their personalities perfectly. once he discovered that she was still there he was determined to get her out safely, and to protect her no matter the cost. when we come to find that they met long before, it just went to show how deep their connection and destiny was (cue me singing lyn’s ‘my destiny’ from my love from the star at least twice an episode). he saved her life many a times, as well as her saving his. they had so many moments. some of my faves (obvi not a comprehensive list all of their moments, that would be too much for my heart):

her falling from the tree saying he was totally her type.

how he kept trying to meet her needs even though it was ridiculous and not necessities for the north, but were needs for her as a lady from the south. from making her food, to getting her the candles and body products from the market.

when she was lost in the market and he got a scented candle to lift up to find her.

him keeping her photo even though he called her out saying that it was silly to get extras.

after ri jeong-hyeok got shot protecting her, and their first kiss moment at the hospital.

when ri jeong-hyeok’s family kidnaps her and they meet again at his family home.

when seri played on the piano and we discovered that it was jeong-hyeok’s song all along, the song for his brother that saved her life. when she contemplated suidcide in switzerland.

when his brother’s watch came full circle, to provide pertinent information in turning in the bad man and being the gift se-ri had bought to gift to jeong-hyeok.

when he followed her to the south to protect her, and they met on the street.

when he and the boys surprised her for her birthday.

him waiting for her after he was taken by the NIS and they allowed him to be at her bedside in the ICU until she woke up from the coma.

him leaving her a fully stocked fridge and writing out recipes for her. along with leaving her text messages for a year.

him leaving her a recording of him playing the piece on the piano for her to fall asleep, rather than her depending on sleeping medications.

them writing i love you with books on the shelf.

captain ri’s company. i throughly enjoyed the addition of getting to know all of his men. they all developed a friendship with se-ri and it was so precious. and how she gave them all rewards before she was meant to leave the first time, and gifted them things. i loved how they all came to love her and wanted to protect her, which is especially prominent in how they all surround her after she was shot by cheol-gang.

ju-meok and his love for south korean dramas throughout the episodes was precious. i loved that seri was able to make his dream and gift come true to meet his favorite actress. eun-dong a precious bean, just wanting to see his family, not always knowing what was going on, but always providing emotional support. kwang-beom the handsome face, who blew his cover in the south when all the agencies wanted to recruit him (hahaha). and of course chi-su the one most hesitant to accept her, came to love her most and became the most accustomed to the lifestyle of the south.

these men tended to provide the perfect comedic relief for many tense moments. their one liners were perfect. i appreciated them coming to the south and trying to get accustomed to blend in. all those scenes were hilarious from them in the stores walking around with their knock off brand names, hours in the internet cafes, sauna stays, and chicken dinners. some notable moments include the birthday celebration scene, when seri thought they had left and gone back to the north and starts weeping on the floor, just for them to come out for the ‘surprise’. and them saying wait ju-meok you said surprises were a good idea but she is crying. another moment being when ri jeong-hyeok was showing seri his scars saying hers won't be too bad, and them walking in thinking something scandalous was happening, (this even happened when captain ri was in the hospital in north korea hahaha).

jeong-hyeok’s family. the storyline behind his brother was kind of dropped, and it was kinda sad because i feel like it shaped jeong-hyeok immensely. but it was so sad that his brother passed in such a tragic way at the hands of cheol-gang. and that it brought jeong-hyeok back from his dream as a pianist to fulfill what he needed to for his family. his father was stern and hilarious in the scene when the two of them finally met again. just being baffled that his only son left was in love with a woman from the south. his mother was so supportive of him, and i loved that. she just wanted her only son to be happy in life and come back alive.

now seri’s family is whole other story they were WACK. like seriously insane and it was ridiculous. her father and mother redeemed themselves compared to the beginning, once seri returned they kept it in check and wanted the best for her. i loved how the mother and daughter relationship blossomed and how she was there for her daughter in recovery and grieving the loss of jeong-hyeok as he went back to the north. that was beautiful.

now on to her oppa se-hyeong and his witch of a wife sang-a. they wanted to keep her in the north, then when she was back to send her back/use it against her in business ventures, then tell cheol-gang her address so he could take her. like what?!?! her eldest brother and his wife were oblivious and just wanted money and titles, but dang at least they didnt send an ex NK officer after seri. and it was only until the man-bok wire tapped the room while she was in a coma did it come out that they were truly evil.

our second otp. seung-jung and seo dan. my goodness what an unexpected pairing, but you know i was on that ship as soon as i saw it developing. i loved how they dished what the other served, and how seung-jung was a different person who wanted to do better by her, seriously they were great. i loved that seo dan saw that she was worthy and deserved to have a man that wanted her and saw her true beauty and qualities that made her a strong and independent woman. and that she didnt need to pursue something that was not vibrant because jeong-hyeok did not pursue her how she deserved, because he had someone else in his heart. i loved this relationship. and i really did not appreciate that we finally had major character development from seung-jung, and then he died. like seriously?! we went from only a few episodes prior going to turn seri into her brother and keep her there in the north. and then he went to protect seo dan and ended up losing his life to protect her.

the moment he asked her what she was referring to when she said, ‘i like it’. was it jeong-hyeok, was it the ramen, or was it him (seung-jung)?!? and she responded with him, weeping. i weeped like a baby. and then he died in the ambulance. i couldn't contain it.

seo dan’s family. i loved her mother, she provided much comedic relief when it came to how seo dan and jeong-hyeok were originally engaged, to kinda getting on the ship of ‘alberto’, to being like maybe it’s fine if she is alone, let me get myself a man. it was hilarious. i also loved how she went into the village and used her money on the black market to get goods to the ladies of the village. it was quite funny to see how much of the south, she appreciated even though they were pretty high up in status in the north. like the boutiques she went to, and the english phrases, and south korean products she used.

the women of the village. these women were precious. they were hilarious in how they always prepared the best for jeong-hyeok when he came back from the outpost. i loved how the village banned together to protect seri and how seri made limited edition products in tribute to them.

the premise and themes.

overall the idea of this concept is wild and completely ridiculous. that she was hidden for so long, that they met before in switzerland of all places, and that it took her weeks to escape the north and it took 8 men 12 hours to get there is ridiculous. but then again if we didn’t have these wild storylines would it really be a drama?

it was interesting to see their perspective of life in the north, for the duration of the drama i was wondering how much of this is true. from the market to the wiretapping of the homes, to the guards and military structure. it was all very intriguing. and i also have issues with people saying this drama glorified north korea because i would like to see those receipts because i did not see it portrayed as a wonderful place to live. it looked difficult and cold, and terrifying!

the only thing that humanized it was the people, which is how it is in these situations. the people there, just typical everyday people, do not necessarily reflect the hierarchy of hate portrayed by officials of the government.

it was so sad at the place that seri was incredibly vulnerable and wanted to take her own life. she insanely depressed and how jeong-hyeok in that precise moment when he was sad and alone wrote a piece of music for his brother that brought her out of her own darkness was beautiful. even though they did not talk or communicate face to face, the heart behind his music brought her out. and they were eventually able to come full circle and meet and grow together. se-ri is an incredible strong character and i wish she had the support she needed from her family and friends. i am glad that jeong-hyeok was able to be there for her, and meet her in her most vulnerable moment on the bridge.

cinematography and episode layout.

i loved the filming of this. like seriously it was beautifully done. from the dynamic scenes in nature and traveling through the forests, to the cityscapes and small moments they highlighted.

i appreciated how we followed the cohesive storyline, but that at the end of each episode we got an extra tidbit to take with us. one of the most noteworthy ones being when the NIS was investigating the ‘spies’/captain ri’s men and looking at all their histories and transactions and places they visited (HILARIOUS). then at the end of that episode it flashed back to the NIS, and now they were looking into jeong-hyeok. and it showed the collective moments that him and se-ri shared and the investigator said that a psychologist viewed all the materials and found to conclude that jeong-hyeok was in love with se-ri. then the lead investigator was like, ‘no duh, you needed a psychologist to tell you that bro. i can see it with my own eyes’. i laughed so hard.

these end scenes at the end of the episodes were also pivotal in piecing together their histories. and seeing how they had met long ago and that destiny truly brought them together.

the ending.

i am partially satisfied with the ending. i like how we got to see where everyone went. like even the little things of how man-bok and his family ended up in pyeongyang. and that the village ladies were same old same old even with a new captain showing up.

i was disappointed that our second otp was ripped apart by those chinese gangsters, because we could have had it all, and not the tragic ending of him protecting her from the bad men and dying a slow painful death and they finally confessed their love for each other.

i loved that our couple found each other eventually, after years but that it was while she was paragliding, which i freaking called it being like wouldn't that bring us full circle! it was wild and i loved how it ended with them on a picnic enjoying life in a little house with all their photos, because that's how it all started. i wish we could have seen them in the future with their twins, but ya know i’ll take this ending over a scarlet heart ryeo for our main leads.

the ost.

my goodness i have never had a great drama with a subpar ost tracks. and this one does not fall short. now, i have drama ost playlists each each, and i believe every track from this drama made the list, because *insert slow clap* they are fantastic. my faves:

‘flower’ by yoonmirae.

‘here i am again’ by yerin baek.

‘all of my days’ by sejeong.

‘photo of my mind’ by song ga in.

‘let us go’ by crush. (his tracks always get me)

‘give you my heart’ by iu.

now if you haven't watched it yet go get netflix and watch this one because it will not disappoint. and i will have to rewatch it eventually because it really was perfect. and i am sure there are many easter eggs that i missed.

#crash landing on you #2020 #k drama #review #playback #ost #ri jong hyeok #hyun bin #yoon se ri #son ye jin #seo dan #seo ji hye #gu seung jung #kim jung hyun #cast #netflix #thank you netflix

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rachelkaser · 4 years ago

Text

Stay Golden Sunday: Blind Ambitions

Rose’s blind sister Lily visits and might need more help than she’s willing to admit. The Girls have a garage sale.

Picture It...

The Girls are having a barbecue on the lanai with their guest, Rose’s sister Lily. Lily lost her sight six months ago, and is still adjusting while Rose tries not to be a mother hen. Blanche reminisces about Southern barbecues and Lily tells a story about their St. Olafian camping trips. The Girls discuss Lily’s adjustment -- she claims she can cope with most things now, and she even still watches television. When Sophia grouses about their TV being broken, Lily gives them the idea of having a garage sale to get money for a new one.

DOROTHY: Listen, mom, we cannot afford a new TV. We’re using the household money to repair the roof and repave the driveway. SOPHIA: Great, and what am I supposed to do while every other old lady on the block is watching Cosby? DOROTHY: Well, you can sit in the new driveway and hope that an amusing Black family drops by.

Later, the Girls are gathering together the things they could sell at a garage sale. Dorothy pulls out an old doll, Blanche has a hippy outfit she wore to Woodstock (the movie), and Rose finds a pair of candlesticks she decides to keep. Lily offers to put them in the alcove, and tells Rose not to be so protective. Rose apologizes -- while discreetly moving aside a lamp Lily was about to walk into. Lily then announces she’s going to her room and Dorothy and Blanche scramble to move a half-dozen boxes out of her way without her noticing, and she triumphantly declares, when she makes it to the hallway, that she doesn’t need anyone’s help.

The next day, Lily is cooking bacon on the stove, and when she turns away for a moment, the pan catches fire. She cries out for help, and Rose and Blanche come rushing in, with Rose putting out the fire with an extinguisher. Dorothy runs in as Blanche tells Lily she shouldn’t have been cooking on the stove. Lily apologizes but says it was just an accident as she sulks out. Blanche and Dorothy confront Rose, saying Lily isn’t as independent as she’s saying she is, and she might need to go back to the school for the blind, despite dropping out due to alleged boredom. Rose agrees to talk to her.

LILY: I remember when you were six years old and dad got you that puppy for your birthday. You worried because you thought her paws were too big and that the other dogs would laugh at her. ROSE: Well they did! They used to bark and point at her! LILY: Everybody pointed at her. You made her wear a bonnet and matching booties.

Rose goes to her room, where Lily is staying, and Lily reassures Rose that she’s fine. She says Rose is a worrier by nature, and Rose says not to change the subject. She tells Lily that she’s trying to do much by herself, and the independence of which she’s so proud isn’t serving her now. Lily finally breaks and tells Rose she just wants things to go back to the way they were, but they’re not going to. Rose tells her she needs help, and Lily begs Rose to come back home and live with her before bursting into tears.

Later, Rose tells the Girls that she’s seriously thinking about moving with Lily to Chicago, but both Blanche and Rose are skeptical that it’ll actually help Lily. Dorothy accuses her of doing it out of guilt, and Blanche relates a story of how she lost a male friend because her husband made her feel guilty about it. Sophia has a slightly more relevant story about how she struggled to get back on her feet after her stroke. It took Dorothy pushing her to be independent for her to actually make the effort, and Sophia tells Rose she needs to help her sister “to help herself.” Rose goes off to think some more.

DOROTHY: *after Blanche rebuffs a customer’s offer of $1.25 for her Elvis shakers* Blanche, I can’t believe that you did that! I mean, they’re just a silly salt and pepper shaker. BLANCHE: The King is gone, Dorothy. But we must cherish the things he left behind. His movies, his songs... DOROTHY: And his seasonings.

At the garage sale, every time someone shows an interest in one of the Girls’ things, they react badly. Rose isn’t willing to give up her teddy, Mr. Longfellow; Blanche believes her Elvis salt and pepper shakers must be cherished; and Dorothy squabbles with a teenager over a hockey stick used by Bobby Hull. They come to the conclusion that they’re not willing to part with any of their things, and decide to just pay for a new TV in installments. Blanche and Dorothy go to shoo out their customers.

Lily enters and tells Rose how much she appreciates Rose being willing to help her. She asks Rose to get her a glass of water, and Rose freezes before reminding Lily that she’s capable of getting a glass of water — and if she isn’t, she needs professional help that Rose can’t give. She’s made up her mind: She’s not going to Chicago. Lily gets angry and accuses Rose of turning her back on her, storming out.

DOROTHY: *after the third time Rose leaves the house and returns* Come on now. Come on now, get out of here. You’ve come back more times than Shirley MacLaine.

Two months later, Rose is on her way to visit Lily. She’s sure that Lily is going to pressure her into living with her again and is nervous because it was hard enough to refuse the first time. The Girls encourage her to stick to her guns. She leaves, but not without kissing her friends goodbye. When Rose arrives at the airport later, she thanks the flight attendant for all the extras they provided her (including pillows, Dramamine, and 10 packs of smokehouse almonds).

Rose is surprised to see Lily at the airport, waiting for her. Lily introduces her seeing-eye dog, Becky, who Rose of course melts over (side note: I don’t think you’re supposed to pet service dogs the way Rose does here, but considering the dog is likely not an actual service dog, I’ll excuse it). Lily apologizes to Rose, saying Rose did the right thing by pushing her. She went back to the school for the blind, and is finally in a place where she can take care of herself -- with Becky’s help, of course. She and Becky take the lead to the baggage claim, with Lily tossing off a one-liner that has Rose a bit concerned:

ROSE: I’m so proud of you. LILY: Oh this is nothing! What till you see me drive home!

“If it’s a choice between the two of them, let the blind one make change.”

After Blanche and Dorothy had their turns with sisterly conflict episodes, it’s now Rose’s turn. This time it’s not long-standing animosity or bubbling resentment that sets the two against each other, but a new life change that prompts an adaptation in the relationship. As depressing as it may be, I think Lily and Rose might be the healthiest sister relationship in the show’s history, not that that’s saying much. Lily is one of the more memorable guest characters on the show, mostly because she’s given room to have complex emotions.

In the episode, Lily is played by Polly Holiday, whose main claim to fame is playing Flo “Kiss My Grits” Castleberry on the sitcom Alice -- a catchphrase I’ve always found a little baffling, but at least it’s memorable. If you’d asked me based on what little I’d seen of Alice if she’d be capable of giving one of the most memorable guest performances on Golden Girls ever, I admit I’d have been a little skeptical -- and I’d be wrong, because she really brings it. It’s not often an actor can be in a scene with Betty White and completely command all the attention (and probably some of the credit goes to White for being a great scene partner).

SOPHIA: Why are we cooking outdoors? DOROTHY: Ma, we’re having a barbecue. SOPHIA: You know what they call cooking meat over an open fire in Sicily? DOROTHY: No, what? SOPHIA: Poverty.

I appreciate what the episode does, making Lily an . . . well, I don’t want to say antagonist, but definitely the person who’s causing the conflict. She’s not actually dealing with her problems, but she wants to look like she is because she’s too proud to ask for help -- and when she finally does, it’s from a person who’s not qualified to help her. The first time I watched this episode, I was a naïve youngster who didn’t understand why Rose didn’t go help Lily -- I felt that I would, under the circumstances. Now that I’m an adult, I understand better why that situation is untenable, because Rose would have to quit her job and, given that she can’t really teach Lily to be independent, would never be able to have her own life because Lily would be dependent on her.

The show is also not shy about showing how Lily’s lack of control over her situation is making her lash out, and that this isn’t excusable: During the pivotal scenes between Rose and Lily, Lily does everything she can to deflect taking responsibility for herself. She tells Rose, “You’d be worried if you couldn’t find anything to worry about” when Rose comes to check on her (keep in mind, she’d been screaming for help mere minutes earlier), begs Rose to fix the problem for her, and finally escalates to accusing Rose of abandoning her when Rose tries to get her to take care of herself.

DOROTHY: Will you look at this? I got this doll on my 10th birthday. I can’t believe I’ve kept her all these years. *Sophia enters behind her* Her hair’s falling out, her clothes are all worn, she smells of mothballs... SOPHIA: Hey, I may not be Ann-Margret, but I’m still your mother!

There is a difference between toughing something out and truly coping with it, and I think anyone who’s gone through a major life change would agree. The difference lies in confronting the reality of the situation. For most of the episode, Lily adamantly refuses to do that, and Rose enables her -- the other Girls recognize that and try to help Rose see it. For me, the best (and hardest) part of the episode to watch is that little moment in the kitchen when Rose says Lily is very independent, and Dorothy firmly says, “No she’s not, Rose.”

I’m not disabled myself, so I looked up details on common reactions to late-onset disabilities. We never know how Lily became blind -- if it was something that had been coming on for a while or if it was the result of some kind of trauma -- but I found an article on the Royal National Institute for Blind People’s website that clarified what Lily is going through: Grief. If you watch closely, you can see Lily’s going through a few different stages of grief -- denial, anger, and fear. While her situation is resolved mostly off-camera, it’s nice to see that she’s allowed to have those emotions.

ROSE: *about Lily* She served three terms on the city council, and she was the first woman in St. Olaf’s to ever have a pilot’s license. BLANCHE: Oh really? Well we have something in common, Lily. I was the first woman in my hometown ever to have a pilot! DOROTHY: Blanche’s bed is next to the X-15 at the Space and Aviation Museum.

Still, as much as I like the episode, I do think there are a few parts where the writing isn’t as strong as it could be. Most of the episode is tipped on the serious side rather than the comedic side. The garage sale scene is really funny, but doesn’t make sense. Presumably the Girls went through all their stuff before putting it out on the lanai, to confirm they wanted to sell it and to price it. Why is it that only on the day of the sale do they decide they want to keep all their bric-a-brac? Also, I’m not exactly sure how they plan to get a new TV with a $60 down payment and paying “the rest of it” off on time. Side note: The scene of them frantically clearing Lily’s path of boxes is funny, but it’s really their fault for leaving boxes of stuff lying around while a blind guest is trying to navigate their house.

While the episode is balanced really well between the four Girls, I think Blanche’s major part of the episode -- her extended story about her male friend Andrew (an excellent lover . . . no, riveter) -- doesn’t really serve either the episode or the scene it’s in, which is a recurring problem with first-season episodes. Her anecdotes from the opening scene about barbecues with the Darcy triplets (Hank, Beau, and . . . Dove?) are much funnier and feel more appropriate to the scene.

BLANCHE: *about Sophia’s stroke* But you got better. SOPHIA: Yeah, because [Dorothy] stopped coddling me. She screamed, she hollered, day and night. She made me do my therapy. She forced me to rebuild my life because she knew I could. And for that I’ll always be grateful. DOROTHY: Aw, thanks, Ma. SOPHIA: I only have one question: Now that I’m better, why do you still scream and holler at me?

Also, bit of dubious-but-fun trivia for you: I already said that Holliday is great as Lily. That said, she allegedly wasn’t the first choice for the role. If the information in Golden Girls Forever is correct, the person who the producers originally wanted to play Lily, the actress whose name was thrown around early in the process . . . was Lucille Ball. Yes, that Lucille Ball.

Keep in mind I couldn’t find a secondary source for this information. Contrary to the impression I probably give, I don’t take Golden Girls Forever as gospel and I generally do try to confirm what’s written via some other source. If I can’t, I don’t want to present it to you as fact. So allegedly the reason Ball declined the role was that she didn’t want to do too many serious roles, and I never thought I’d say this, but I’m glad Polly Holliday got the role instead of Lucille Ball. If she had, I think the whole episode, including the dramatic scenes, would have been less about the characters and performances, and more about “OMG, that’s Lucy!”

Episode rating: 🍰🍰🍰 (three cheesecake slices out of five)

Favorite part of the episode:

Sophia shows how much patience she has for haggling:

CUSTOMER: How much? SOPHIA: Two bucks. Get wild. Treat yourself. CUSTOMER: Nah, I’ll give you a dollar-fifty. SOPHIA: What does this look like, Baghdad? *pulls vase out of her hands* Get the hell out of here! DOROTHY: Ma, that’s no way to sell things! SOPHIA: Hey, go to Neiman Marcus sometime, see if they treat you any better.

#golden girls #stay golden #rose nylund #sophia petrillo #blanche devereaux #dorothy zbornak #stay golden sunday #blind ambitions #picture it #s01e23

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