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declanowo · 1 year ago

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31 Days of Horror - Day 1

Night of the Howling Beast - 01/10/23

For my first film I rolled is “Night of the Howling Beast”, a spanish film from 1975. This one was on my watchlist because of its status as a Video Nasty, a collection of films I had once thought about watching all of, before cherry picking ones I actually thought I might like.

Despite not knowing until halfway through this film is was halfway through a series, this never hampered my understanding, and in fact, I think only increased it; the mere thought of what may happen in the previous films, all centred around the ever changing figure of the werewolf, is so alluring.

When a movie opens with an alternate title to the one you’re expecting, this one’s being “The Werewolf and the Yeti”, it’s never a good sign. Despite this film’s low budget, I will put the name change down to regional differences, which may be the case.

When I rolled this film, I was incredibly excited, firstly because it was a Video Nasty, which gives it an almost mythical status in my eyes, although not all of them live up to this idea. Secondly, because of its description:

“Waldemar, the renowned adventurer, joins an expedition to find the Yeti in the Himalayas. While hiking the mountains, he’s captured by two cannibalistic demon nymphets guarding a remote Buddhist temple and becomes their sex-slave. They transform him into a werewolf, setting him loose to roam the mountain where he encounters a sadistic bandit.”

With so many moving pieces, the film instantly was intriguing, a horror film that may be doing so much that it could never not be entertaining, regardless of the quality of the film itself. Yet around thirty minutes into the film, one section of the film is honed in on, and seldom left for the duration of the film, this being the bandits.

For a movie about the Yeti and a Werewolf, it certainly fixates on the bandits more so, but I’m getting ahead of myself.

Before delving any further into this film, I must address the version I watched. Through my searching, the only version I could find to watch in the UK was an English language dubbed version, which is often shotty, but in my opinion, entirely added to the charm of the film. Lines are delivered weirdly, and it is often impossible to tell if this is a result of the poor dubbing, or the intent of the actors, yet it works into this film's weird charm. With so much happening, the strange voice performances only made it easier to follow the story, which at times grew stale and meandering.

The first thing that stood out to me about this film is the quality, grainy and cheap, an element which I feel only adds to its charm! It feels similar to me to Evil Dead, another, far more famous, Video Nasty, which also was made cheaply, therefore the film has a more raw effect, the gore especially stands out because of this; many films made during this era, in this quality, were feared to be snuff films, which leant to their banning in the UK.

Beyond the quality, the cold open is nothing much, just two nameless deaths, before a series of freeze frames while the credits roll, which I must admit had me excited, the tone felt weirdly offbeat, unintentionally of course, yet there felt like heart behind its intent, even if watching in the modern day gives a far less scary effect.

After this, we are introduced to our triage of protagonists, who left a varying impact on me. My favourite was Sylvia played by Mercedes Molina. Her role feels far more characterised, even if she falls into a series of stereotypes in the film, her character often a damsel in distress, yet the moments where she isn’t forced into this position are where she shines as a character, her heroic motivations are interesting, and her will breaks through these stereotypes she is so bound by.

Next are the other two, Waldemar played by the writer of this film, alongside the rest of the series, Paul Naschy. The character is a “renowned adventurer”, joining Prof Lacombe, played by Josep Castillo Escalona in a search for the Yeti.

On this search, Waldemar wanders off, finding a cave where he stays in the company of two demon nymphs. Here the film picks up, and to me, is at its most interesting. The cave setting lends itself to creative cinematography, trapping the audience in the cave, where we watch curiously as he examines the location. These wide shots provide a look at the rocks that makes it appear gooey, like they’re melting, and although I cannot tell if this was intentional or a faulty prop, it adds an eeriness to it, the location feels gross, which is complimented by the orange baked lighting, every scene here feels warm, juxtaposing the icy Himalayas, the barron whites and timid blues are lost against this boiling pot. The reveal of the cannibalism isn’t shocking, but it does lend itself nicely to the warmth, the film is heating up, the world is changing as we should be expecting it. The gore here shines, as the Nymphs tear away at the skin. By the end of this tense sequence, Waldemar has been bitten, the nymphs dead, yet the film grows tiresome once more when we depart from him. The search party for him works well, yet the characters drag down any section that isn’t filled with crazy plotlines.

Luckily, the section doesn’t last long, but it does show a worrisome sign for the future of the film. We return to Waldemar after he transforms, fulfilling half the film's title, yet the Yeti doesn’t appear until the final act.

Although the following sequences of searching for Waldemar and his killing sprees as a werewolf aren’t dull, they lack much space to discuss for me. Therefore, my discussion skips forward, after he has been found, and reunited with his love, Sylvia, who throughout these sequences has stood as my favourite character.

Finally, we are introduced to our central protagonists - not the Yeti, but two bandits. Their characterization feels somewhat scary, sure, yet I failed to be engaged with them after their introduction. Honestly, the film loses me here, as characters are captured, palaces are invaded and werewolf lore is sprung. The story feels worn thin somehow, these antagonists never interested me, and fit closely into the basic adventure archetypes. This especially is where I felt the adventure genre shine through in this film, where the werewolf can be cured, the villains can be defeated with certainty, and a heroic end can be met. Although I don’t mind this genre when it’s blended with horror, my issues lie in the boring story and flat characters.

Although, after reviewing the film while writing this, there is far less time spent with the bandits than I had remembered - a sign, to me, of just how long it felt to drag on, how dull it grew as nothing happened for so long. The final series of final battles are nothing more than bland villains fighting mediocre heroes, and it almost makes you forget that one of them is cursed to be a werewolf.

Eventually, the villains are defeated, and the final problem arises before Waldemar can be freed of his curse - the Yeti. The whiplash created from watching a regular man fight a series of bandits, to then seeing a yeti is incredible, and I love the film for doing it. As much as I enjoy these final few minutes, a brawl to cap off the film, I did find an issue with just how similar the Yeti and werewolf designs are, but hey, I can live with that, because finally there is something silly happening again - I can breathe! The wide shots are bathed in a cool blue light, the frost not so much felt, but the effect is nice as the two indeterminable shapes attack one another.

One final note I want to make is the stunts on this film - they take me back to my childhood of recording movies on Imovie, where you would throw a punch and narrowly miss your friends face as they scream. So much fun.

As I draw this little discussion to a close - I hope it was somewhat coherent - I must say that I enjoyed this film through all its faults; I cannot understate how crazy so much of this films runtime is, I utterly adore that section of it, and while the ending portion, alongside some sluggish stuff towards the beginning, it was a fun watch, and one I will remember for ages alone, not just because of what happens, but because with an alternate title like “The Werewolf and the Yeti” it sure doesn’t show its Yeti too much, but when it does show this werewolf looking creature, the excitement is indescribable.

6/10 <3

#literature #halloween #spooky season #horror #horror movies #creative writing #movie review #film review #werewolf #yeti #video nasty

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thebigoblin · 3 years ago

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Sterek Fic Recs Part 3

[You can find the first two lists here: Fluffy Sterek Recs & Sterek Fic Recs. Also here's a special fic, check it out]

First off, thank you all for a 100 followers!! As of September 7, 2021 you've made me feel really, really good about my obsession with two oblivious idiots (with sprinkles of the hale pack and other fandoms), and this is my way of thanking you ♥️

If you're on PC, you can see that there is a page dedicated solely to fic recs, which caters to other ships & fandoms too. So don't feel left out if you're looking for something other than Sterek!

Without further ado, let's get to it then!

an awful curse

Isaac is asleep in a chair. The angle of his neck makes Derek wince in sympathy.

"Isaac," Derek says.

Isaac snaps awake immediately.

"You're-"

"Where's Stiles?"

"Stiles?" Isaac asks.

Jesus. It's not like they know more than one.

AU - Canon Divergence | 6.3k | By blinkiesays

Throw Away The Key

Stiles knew it was stupid to go to the hunters’ headquarters all by himself, so when he finds himself caught, he can really only blame himself.

It shouldn't surprise Stiles when the situation quickly goes from bad to worse as the hunters throw him to a feral werewolf waiting to tear him apart.

Sucks that it's Derek, though.

AU - Canon Divergence | 5.9k | By mommymuffin

Whatever Happened Last Night, Why Did Glitter Have to Be Involved?

Derek rolled out of bed in search of his phone - quickly finding it in the pair of jeans that had evidently been tossed aside haphazardly on the way to the bed. Seeing the pants sparked flashes of memories - wolfsbane-laced alcohol, loud music, multicolored lights.

Peter’s new supernatural-friendly club - the pack had gone to the opening night party.

He unlocked his phone and opened the pack group chat, which Erica had affectionately named ‘Moon Sluts’.

>>Derek: What the fuck happened last night

[or: Derek wakes up with three things on his mind: he feels like he was punched by a troll, his mate is missing, and there's glitter covering his bed. Oh, and the pack group chat is mildly helpful]

Prompt #159 - “Also, my bed has glitter in it for reasons I do not recall.”

Crack Vibes | 1.2k | By ash_mcj

Good to Eat

So if Stiles married Derek Hale, he could become Jewish too? Perfect. It was settled. Stiles gleefully shoveled a forkful of cheesy shells into his mouth.

"Uh oh. I know that look.” Claudia shook her head.

"Don’t worry, Mom, ” Stiles said, reaching for his plastic Batman cup.

"I’ve got a plan.”

"Good luck, Derek Hale,” his mother muttered.

Rude.

AU - Childhood Friends | 1.7k | By Jmeelee

Murder Brows and Avoidance Tactics

Derek gets the wrong end of the stick.

Written for prompt: "You're jealous, aren't you?"

AU - Everybody Lives | 2k | By Dragonink13

Double Vision (only registered users can read this one)

"So what caused my hearing and sense of smell to dull?"

Deaton's brow furrowed, all amusement vanishing from his face. "What do you mean?"

Derek snapped, letting loose all of his anger and fear at the man before him. "I mean I can't hear your heartbeat or the cars down below or the birds in the attic! I can't smell the flowers in Mrs. Everett's apartment, I can't smell the rotting burger in the fridge that Isaac left in there a month ago, I can't smell or hear anything like I normally can!" Deaton mouth was pressed into a thin line. "Can you explain that?!"

Tumblr Prompt: Derek jealous of himself.

AU - Everyone Lives | 6.1k | By Novkat21

Kiss?

Derek likes kissing Stiles, honestly he does. Until he doesn't.

Fluff | 3.6k | By clotpolesonly

Oblivious Misadventures, and Other Such Tales

Going to college was exciting and new, a chance for new friends and a fresh start, and the best part was, there was a supernatural fraternity on campus, meaning Scott finally had the freedom to be himself.

Then he met the resident human who came with a stalker alpha. What was the point of a supernatural fraternity if he still had to pretend to be human. And seriously, did Stiles ever fall asleep somewhere normal?

(aka - Five TImes Scott Found Derek and Stiles Sleeping, and the One Time He Didn't)

AU, Supernatural is real but not known by everyone, Alive Hale Family | 11.2k | By Little Spoon

Call Me (Cliché)

When the sheriff's sister ends up in a wheelchair for the duration of summer, Stiles' dreams of three months full of pack bonding, late-night video games and bro-time with Scott come crashing down. He's temporarily relocated to Redford, a three hour drive away, and he can already tell he won't be getting many visitors.

Sure the pack will forget about him while he's gone, Stiles is determined to make the most of his summer of isolation, training his body and mind - and his magic - so he can come back with a bang, and maybe catch a certain Sourwolf's eye.

Then Derek shows up at his window one night with a flimsy excuse about needing research done. Suddenly, his summer away is looking a whole lot more interesting.

AU - Canon Divergence | 84.6k | By Orphan_Account aka the author has dissociated themselves from the fic

Shiver

Stiles has really, really cold hands. Luckily, Derek knows just what to do about that.

Established Relationship | 1.7k | By canistakahari

Derek Hale's Possible Heart

An anon sent me a sterek prompt for Laura teasing Derek and Stiles joining in, then somehow sharing their feelings for each other in the mess of things.

AU - Canon Divergence | 4.3k | By loserchildhotpants

What's a Secret Identity?

Stiles sipped at a mug of coffee, absently watching the news play in the break room. Because of course a news station couldn't play anything other than its own content, even in the one part of the office that was supposed to be a safe space from work. His interview with Superman was making a rerun and Stiles glanced at Derek before commenting absently, “I’d totally let Superman fuck me.”

Derek, who had been in the middle of a swig of coffee, choked violently, “That’s not something I needed to know at nine in the morning, Stiles.”

Stiles raised an eyebrow. “What time would you prefer I tell you about all of the things I would let Superman do to my body?”

AU, Derek is Superman | 7k | By Chrystie, imabignerd and kate882

i see that you've come so far [just like them old stars]

But her big brother’s unwillingness to touch anyone, like he thinks he doesn’t deserve it isn’t the only thing she notices. She also notices how Stiles doesn’t touch him.

Everyone reaches for Derek in some form or another, but Stiles- Stiles is something different altogether because he reaches for Derek but he never makes contact.

He’ll be trying to shimmy past Derek and instead of putting a hand on his arm like most of them do, he’ll reach out with a hand and stop it scant centimeters away from Derek’s skin.

Or they’ll be walking alongside each other and Stiles will hover a hand on Derek’s lower back.

It’s both fascinating and tragic to watch, like NASA lost control of one of their robots and instead of it landing on the moon it’s fated to gravitate around it.

AU - Canon Divergence | 2.3k | By crossroadswrite

Déjà Vu

There’s a shop in Beacon Hills that no one knows anything about except that the mysterious proprietor, a witch in whispered circles, knows what you need before you do and that the things given are always just what you need.

Derek, lost after a breakup, heads into the shop to see if he can find something to help him forget his ex. The witch gives him a potion to drink, and when Derek wakes up, he finds he’s sixteen again and there’s a new student at his school, Stiles Stilinski.

Everything is familiar and yet not, and Derek finds he’s strangely drawn to Stiles in a way that is entirely supernatural.

AU, Supernatural is Real | 8.8k | By gremlins-came-and-got-me and StaciNadia

Start Small, Like Oak Trees

The months following Allison's death have passed Stiles by in a haze of monotony. He sleepwalks through days that seem to lose their color, an unwilling passenger in a body he no longer trusts. Eventually, he thinks, he'll just fade away. He isn't sure anyone would notice. Then, during a spur of the moment grocery run, he stumbles upon Derek Hale attempting to console a lost child, and for the first time in recent memory the world doesn't seem so awful.

He's not sure what he'd been expecting when he eventually convinces Derek to move into the Stilinski's spare bedroom, but a newfound passion for weeding and topsoil certainly isn't it.

AU - Canon Divergence | 24.2k | By SmallBirds

Undercover K9

As it usually goes, Derek acts before he thinks. This time he has a good reason, though-it's all Stiles' fault. Mostly.

Or, that time when Derek volunteered to spend all his spare time as a wolf with the Beacon Hills Sheriff's Office K9 Unit, just to protect Stiles' dumb ass.

Future Fic | 17.9k | By Cobrilee

Rose Colored Glasses

“Obviou—um, what? Derek?” Stiles managed. “What? You’re not colorblind. You’re colorblind?”

“Yes.” Derek said gruffly. “And?”

“And? What do you mean and? You can’t see colors?” Stiles demanded, thrown. “Does it—what kind is it? Red-green? Blue-yellow? Why doesn’t—oh my god, is this why your entire freaking wardrobe was completely black until like two years ago? Oh my god!”

“There’s nothing wrong with having a favorite color, Stiles.”

Established Relationship | 2.2k | By SassyStarboard

1,460 Days (gotta clean my slate)

Two years after Scott becomes Alpha and Derek gives it up for Cora, Stiles gets hurt during a fight and ends up in a coma for two weeks. According to the nurse, a guy has been visiting him every day and, as much as he wishes it were Derek, it sounds a lot like Scott. Except he and Scott aren't even friends anymore.

AU - Canon Divergence | 10k | By army_of_angels

This is it for now. Happy reading y'all! ♥️

#sterek #my sterek fic recs #sterek fic recs #derek hale #stiles stilinski

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probably-writing-x · 5 years ago

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Abrupt exposures

Arón Piper x Reader

Request by anon: one where the reader is also apart of the Elite cast and the fans suspect that she’s dating aron and it’s confirmed over an IG story accidentally because one of the cast members records them by mistake

Gif is not my own

Requests are open🤍

“We’re just really good friends, nothing more,” You assure the interviewer in front of you, “We’ve been friends since the start of the show and we’ve just had the opportunity to bond ever since then. Arón’s my best friend.”

“Alright, thank you so much for your time (Y/n),” They smile as they dismiss you from the interview and you move onto the next.

Tonight was the season 3 premiere for Élite and you’d never been more excited to celebrate the release. This was your favourite season so far and the show had started to mean a whole lot more to you recently.

“Now I’m joined with (Y/n), tell me your thoughts on your character’s development this season,” The lady interviewer asks you over the loud noise of the waiting fans.

“I think this is where you’ll really see them go through the most progression. I think they’re learning a lot about themselves and learning to be a better person. They don’t always go about that in the right way but I think they’re really trying to navigate everything and trying to understand that they do sometimes need other people in order to do that. I was so excited to bring these storylines to life this season and I’m equally as excited for all of our wonderful fans to see it,” You smile proudly, glancing around at the cast that we’re completing interviews beside you.

“And what about your personal life? Did you draw any inspiration from that?”

“Yeah, certainly,” You nod, “I think mainly in how to use the people around you in such a mutualistic way where you can be there to support them as much as they support you. And becoming aware of those truly good people in your life that will really make a difference,” You’re thinking of one person in particular as you speak and it’s impossible to not smile a little at the thought.

“Now, final question and it was the question all of our fans wanted to know the answer to. Are we seeing an off screen romance between you and your costar Arón?”

You laugh lightly, “I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, Arón is my best friend. He’s my support system and a wonderful guy. But there’s nothing happening between us.”

“Okay folks, thank you for that (Y/n), that was excellent,” The interviewer bids you farewell as you move to greet a few more fans.

As you do, you see Arón just nearing the edge of the line as he makes his way towards the doors of the theatre. You go about signing as much as you can and taking photos with everyone before sending them your love and making your own way towards the doors.

“All done?” Arón is waiting just inside the lobby as you walk in through the outside doors.

Your lips curl into a smile as you see him, “Yep.”

He pushes himself up from the wall and locks a hand with yours, “You look gorgeous tonight.”

“So do you,” You beam, leaning in to kiss his cheek as the two of you head through to the backstage of the theatre.

You’d been dating for almost a year now and had managed to always shut down any rumours that questioned otherwise. Any time you posted a story of the two of you or a photo on your Instagram, rumours spread like wildfire that there was something going on. You always managed to dismiss it or make a jokey post that made things seem like you were just friends and things calmed down. Only to be resurfaced again at the next opportunity.

You joined the rest of the cast backstage so you could all prepare to go on stage before the premiere of episode one where you’d chat a little bit about the upcoming series and thank everyone for being there. Arón leant back against the dressing table and reached out his arms as you walked to stand between his legs and wrap your arms around him.

“How many times did you get asked?” He mumbles, burying his head into your shoulder as he peppers you with kisses.

“almost every interview,” You laugh, “I nearly gave up.”

“Me too,” He comments, “Somebody asked me about being proud of the cast and I didn’t stop talking about you,” He admits it so bashfully, his introverted personality shining through.

“You’re so cute,” You beam, holding his chin to turn him towards you as you kiss him softly.

He hums against your lips and deepens the gesture.

“Fuck! Do you want everyone to find out you’re dating?” Miguel laughs as him and Mina walk into the room.

“Shut up Miguel,” Arón rolls his eyes as you turn around to face them and he keeps his arms around you.

��Seriously, with the way you were looking at each other out there? You weren’t being very secretive,” Miguel jokes, coming over to clasp both of you on the shoulder, “But your secrets always safe with me.”

“We should probably get going right? I think everyone’s seated by now,” You point out, checking the time on your phone.

The screen flashes alive with a photo of Arón you’d taken only a few weeks ago. He was sat on the balcony of your apartment with his ankles crossed and his legs resting on the stone railing around the balcony. He’d been laughing at something you said and you snapped the candid photo before he could blush and cover his expression with a mocking middle finger. He looked stunning.

“Yeah, can’t be late! They’ll be asking a thousand questions more if we’re late,” Omar jokes and jabs Arón in the side.

He hits him back jokingly as all of you check your mics before walking out through to where you’d go on stage. Arón walks with his hand effortlessly locked with yours as the cast all start being introduced to walk on stage. Your name is called and you reluctantly let go of your hand, letting the applause warm your face with a bright smile as you step out.

- - - - - -

The after party was always the most fun part of the premiere, where all of you got to let loose and truly celebrate yourselves and the project more than ever. You made sure to all get a few drinks in and toast to each other, the venue already bustling with people.

“Danna!” You grin as you see her, wrapping her in a long hug, “You look stunning!”

“Ahh thank you so much!” She beams, “Lets get a photo!”

You two pose for a photo together which she instantly posts to her Instagram story. You go to take another as a pair of arms wrap around you and pull you into their chest.

“I missed you,” Arón mumbles into your ear, kissing just below it as he speaks.

“You were gone for five minutes,” You laugh, turning in his arms to face him, “Am I just thay missable?”

He jokingly looks as though he’s pondering the thought before his lips curl into a smile, “Dance with me, you love this song!”

It’s impossible to say no to him as he buries his face in your neck and the two of you sway far too slowly to the upbeat track.

You’re so lost in each other that you don’t hear when Ester starts filming for her Instagram as they all sing along to the music. And you certainly don’t pay attention to the fact that you’re right in the background of the video...

- - - - - -

The next morning, the lasting effects of the alcohol mean it takes you longer than usual to get up at all. You’d had a lazy morning alongside Arón in bed, both of you ignorant to everything else around you. You hadn’t thought too much about how much your phones were buzzing - expecting it to be the typical aftermath of the premiere hype that had caused it.

“Fuck! They don’t want to leave us alone this morning,” Arón grumbles as you bury your head into his chest.

“Ignore it,” You mumble as your phone buzzes another two times and his starts to ring.

“Alright, alright, give me two minute,” He confirms, shuffling out of the bed and reluctantly out of your grip as he stands up to find his phone in his jeans from the night before.

He’s completely naked and still half asleep as he tries to read what had been coming through on his screen.

“What?” He frowns, “Miguel’s just said ‘I promise it wasn’t me’.”

You push yourself to sit up in the bed, tucking the sheet under your shoulders to keep you covered, “What wasn’t him?”

He laughs a little, “Well, fuck.”

“What?” You frown, reaching to grab the phone from him.

“Alright but before you see it,” He holds the phone up high to stop you from grabbing it, “I want you to be sure that this doesn’t change anything. We’ll make it work and we’ll just have to figure out a way of-“

“Arón!” You exclaim, “Let me see the phone!”

He chuckles and hands it over so you can see the video replaying on his screen - the video Ester has taken. With a clear view of you and Arón cosying up in the background.

“Holy shit,” You let out in an exasperated breath, “Everybody’s seen this?”

“Pretty much,” He says with a smirk playing on his lips.

“What do we do?”

“What do you mean?” Arón laughs, “Does this change anything?”

“Well, no. But it’s a lot harder to manage a relationship when you’re in the public eye...”

“Yeah, but we don’t have to share excessive amounts. We’ll continue doing as we are now, just stop lying in interviews now,” He jokes, “They don’t need to know every detail about our relationship just because they’ve seen us together.”

Just like that, he’s said the words suitable for calming your nerves.

“And nobody gets to see us like this, other than us,” He comments as he clambers back Into bed with you, “I think we’ll both just be glad to not have to lie anymore, you’re a terrible liar!”

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stevesnailbat · 4 years ago

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i shouldn’t be feeling this, but it’s too hard to resist | robin buckley

summary: Y/N is falling for someone, but it’s not someone they planned to fall for.

warnings: mutual pining, slightest mentions of homophobia

word count: 1.9K

a/n: this fic is loosely based off girls by girl in red!! i feel like the song just fits robin so perfectly, so here’s my take on it! i’m changing my writing style to be more inclusive also, so the perspective is different on this one! the gif used above is by @harringtown once again!!!

You knew you shouldn’t have said yes to it. But there you were, sitting on the edge of Robin Buckley’s bed, chewing on your lip nervously as you waited for her to come back into the room.

You and Robin were meant to be nothing more than coworkers at Family Video, maybe acquaintances at most. You had planned on it staying that way, and on keeping your distance. But, there was always just something special about Robin. There was something about Robin's smile that was so convincing, so inviting, so beautiful. There was something that kept pulling you back in for more.

Just friends, you told yourself, nothing more. You didn’t want it to progress into anything more—it couldn’t possibly progress into anything more, not if you wanted to save yourself from the judgement that would most likely ensue.

When the door opened once more, you had to look away, avoiding eye contact with her. You could feel her eyes on you as she walked in with the widest grin, plopping down on the bed next to where you were perched. She sat a bowl of popcorn down on the bed along with a movie and a few boxes of candy after sitting down.

“I snuck a copy of Carrie from the store, I remembered you said you liked that one.” Robin said as she leaned down to rifle through some things under her bed. “Do you want to drink? I bought some wine because I thought it’d be fun to, y’know, let loose for once.”

“Oh—uh—yeah!” you reply with a nervous smile, only making eye contact with her for a fraction of a second. “I’ll take some.”

She smiled over at you again as she pulled the bottle and corkscrew from under the bed, working to open it as soon as she took it out. You cursed yourself for how awkward you were making the situation, but it was unavoidable. Every time you looked at her you felt like your heart was going to explode, so you avoided it at all costs. You knew it was wrong, what you were feeling about her. It felt so wrong that it made the pit of your stomach turn in knots and your heart ache. The feeling wasn’t going away any time soon, though.

Robin could tell something was up from the moment you walked into the house, truthfully. In the past four months of working with you, she’d developed a theory that you just flat out didn’t like her, so she wanted that to change. There were shifts where you would ignore her completely, and others where you’d only give her a sympathetic smile when she’d talk to you.

She didn’t know what she did, but Robin wanted to get to the bottom of it. She had randomly sprung the idea of hanging out on you in the middle of a shift with her and Steve, you couldn’t say no to her. When you said yes, she was downright thrilled to actually get to know you after working quietly alongside you for this long.

You couldn’t help but stare at her as she worked the corkscrew into the bottle, taking in every little detail of her face for the first time. You couldn’t bring yourself tear your gaze away as she continued, eyes wandering as she tugged her lip between her teeth. It was impossible to not think about how soft her lips looked, and how perfect she looked altogether. If someone could read your mind, they might think you were just jealous of the girl. But, truly, the feeling was something much more than jealousy. It was something along the lines of a feeling of longing and desire.

“Finally!” Robin proclaimed, setting the cork on the bed beside her as you broke from your daze. “Here, you can have the first drink and get comfortable while I get the movie set up.”

You nodded and smiled at her, but suddenly lost all desire to drink the alcohol in your hands. There was already a feeling of intoxication building inside of you, built on being around Robin alone. Just looking at her was enough to make you feel a little drunk. Her beauty was overwhelming to you, almost painful to think about in a way. Slowly, you had come to terms with the fact that what you were feeling wasn’t temporary, that what you were feeling—despite how wrong it felt—was there to stay.

“You alright?” she asked when she turned around to see you still sitting on the edge of the bed, frozen with the untouched bottle still in your hand.

“Yeah—yeah, sorry. I’m fine.” you lied, forcing a smile onto your lips as your heart pounded against your ribs.

“You don't seem fine.” Robin pointed out, setting the movie on top of the VCR as she furrowed her brows in concern. “What’s up?”

“It’s really nothing, I—I guess I’m just tired, that’s all.” you lied, hoping she wouldn’t see through the thinly-veiled lie you were telling. “I’m sorry, I’m not trying to be boring and fall asleep as soon as I get here."

“It’s okay!” she said quickly, moving away from the TV to sit next to you on the bed again. “We can just hang out and talk instead, if you want, of course.”

“Yeah, that’s fine!” you stammered abruptly, looking at the bowl of popcorn next to you to avoid her gaze again.

“Are you going to homecoming next weekend?” she asked, moving around on the bed to face you once more as she broke the odd silence.

“Yeah, I’m supposed to.” you laughed bitterly, rolling your eyes at the thought of it.

“You don't seem too thrilled about that. Do you not have a date or something?” she implored, reaching her hand out to take the bottle from your hands. “Or do you have a date and just not like them?”

“Yeah—Yeah, that one.” you said, cringing about it once more. “I’m supposed to go with my brother’s friend from the football team but I’m not interested at all. He’s—He’s just not—“

“He’s just a typical jock who’s boring and doesn’t want to have any real fun?” Robin interjected, eyebrows quirking up as a smile grew on her lips.

He’s not you, Robin Buckley. He’s not the girl with perfect skin and pretty blue eyes that looks fucking perfect in a flannel. He’s not the one who makes you want to scream into a pillow about what you were feeling. That’s what you wanted to say. You wanted to grab her by the shoulders and tell her that you really, really wanted to go with her, but you knew you couldn’t. What would your family say? What would everyone at school say? And most importantly, what would Robin even say if you told her?

“Yeah, I guess that’s probably what it is.” you sighed, shrugging your shoulders to brush it off in the most casual way possible. “I don’t want to act like I like the kid for a whole night, it feels like such a stupid waste of my time.”

“Well, don’t go with him then.” she suggested simply, watching as you tilt your head at her straightforward proposal. “Is there someone else that you actually want to go with?”

“Yeah—I mean, I don’t—I don't know.” you stuttered, a blush settling onto your cheeks as the words slipped from your lips.

“I heard you say yes at first, you can’t take that back!” she said, her eyes lighting up with amusement. “Who is it? Is it that one kid who comes into the store all the time?”

“God no! That kid isn’t in there to flirt, I think he actually just watches a different movie every damn night.” you giggled shyly, heart skipping a beat at the sound of Robin laughing with you.

“Well, who is it then?” Robin asked again, shoving her hand into the bowl of popcorn as if she was watching some interesting movie. “Actually, just tell me about them. You don’t have to name any names, just tell me why you like them. Is that easier?”

“Yeah, that works.” you sighed, chewing on your lip as you finally looked over to her. “I don’t really know where to start, I guess. They’re really like, one of the greatest people I’ve ever met. Obviously we’ve went to school together for a while, but I really have grown to like them a lot—like a lot—in the last few months. And—And I feel like shit for pushing them away for so long, but I just can’t bring myself to fully face how I feel.”

Robin continued to listen intently as you spoke, but was catching on rather quickly. She was shocked, to say the least. She never would’ve known that you felt this way, and would’ve done something about it a lot sooner if she had. There was a twisted feeling in your gut as you spoke, looking to Robin to see the waves of realization hitting her all at once.

“Why don’t—or didn’t—you want them to know?” Robin questioned, tearing her gaze away from yours to stare at her hands.

“Because I’m afraid of how they feel about me, and of what other people will say if I try to be with them.” you said softly, heart sinking as Robin’s smile faded into a focused frown.

“Yeah, I was scared too.” she replied, making your eyes go wide in shock for a moment. “I still am, I guess. I just have people who I know will actually support me, instead of ones who would disown me.”

“You—You’re—”

“Yeah, I am.” Robin laughed softly, a bittersweet smile on her lips. “I’m not very good at this whole thing yet. Which is obvious, considering I didn’t realize you might actually like me until just now.”

“Might like you?” you laughed, making her look up at you with a hope-filled gaze. “I really like you, Robin.”

“Well good.” she sighed, inching closer to you as she spoke. “Because I’m tired of shoving my feelings away every time I see you.”

You smiled, looking away for a moment as butterflies filled your gut. There was a feeling of relief in the air that was quickly replacing the dread and doubt that had filled the room minutes before. Robin reached to put her hand on top of yours, making your heart flutter for a quick moment. Her free hand hooked under your chin, pulling your gaze back to hers as she smiled at you longingly.

“I’m glad you could finally talk to me about this.” she admitted, her thumb rubbing along your cheek gently. “And I’m glad we could both get this off our chests.”

“Yeah, me too.” you replied with a nervous smile. “And since we’re on the subject, there’s something else I’ve been wanting to get off my chest for a while.”

Robin knew exactly what you were doing as she saw your eyes flicker towards her lips, but the feeling still made her heart race. You both had wanted this to happen for a while, and it was finally happening. You cupped her cheek and pulled her into the kiss, keeping it short and sweet. Her lips were just as wonderful and sweet as you had expected, and that thrilled you.

“Do you wanna watch the movie now?” you teased, brushing a strand of her behind her ear.

“I think the movie can wait, because I wanna do that again.” she laughed, pulling you back in for another sweet kiss.

tags (join here!) : @sourapplebaby @harringtown @jxnehxpper @charmed-asylum @heart-eye-harrington @daddystevee @a-magey @lemonypink @igotmadskills @ilovebucketbarnes @simplesammyx @willowrose99

#robin buckley #robin buckley x you #robin buckley fluff #stranger things #stranger things 1 #stranger things 2 #stranger things 3 #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things imagine #robin buckley one shot #robin buckley imagine #robin buckley fanfic #robin buckley fanfiction #robin buckley x reader #stranger things x reader #stranger things fluff #stranger things one shot #stranger things x you

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imekitty · 5 years ago

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Because I'm sadistic, I have a Prompt: Danny has incredibly slowed age. He looks about twenty, when he's almost sixty, and his mind is as sharp as ever. He's attending Sam's funeral

This was exceptionally hard to write.

———–

Tucker parked his car in the cemetery’s front parking lot. Past the gate, Danny could see a large crowd of people gathered, every single one of them dressed in black. Exactly the way Sam would’ve wanted it.

Or maybe not. Maybe she wouldn’t have liked how everyone was dressed in her signature color. She did like to be as unique and different as possible.

Danny unbuckled his seat belt and gave Tucker a weak smile. “Need help getting out?”

“You really haven’t aged,” muttered Tucker. His smile was also weak but still deepened all of the lines in his face. “You just can’t help being a brat even now at a funeral.”

“Look, I just know your knee gives you trouble.”

“Yeah, it does, but I’m not decrepit yet.”

Danny hopped out of the car and walked to the other side just in time to see Tucker groan as he put weight on his leg.

“Here.” Danny held out an arm to help, an arm still strong and taut.

Tucker shook his head and shut the door. “Thanks, but I’m okay.” He stretched his back and looked up at the sky. “It’s sunny. I’m not sure Sam would’ve liked this.”

Tucker squinted in the bright light, his eyes crinkling, skin sagging. Creases and jowls that Danny did not have.

“You gonna let everyone see you?” asked Tucker.

Danny looked down at himself. “Oh.” He turned invisible so that no one could see him. Because there were people at this funeral who might recognize him. People who would wonder why his hair was still so dark, his skin tone still so even and smooth, why there were no spots or wrinkles anywhere on his face.

The price of keeping his youth for longer than he was supposed to.

Danny walked alongside Tucker past the gate into the cemetery, kept his pace slow and synced with Tucker’s. Tucker stared straight ahead, acting as if there weren’t an invisible man by his side.

When they reached the gravesite, the oldest woman there approached Tucker. Pam Manson, Sam’s mother. At eighty-two years old, she had outlived both her husband and now her daughter.

“Tucker. So wonderful you could make it.” Pam directed him to a seat.

“Of course,” said Tucker. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

“But it seems Danny would.”

Danny rubbed his thumbs over his knuckles in an attempt to keep calm.

Tucker smiled, the corners of his mouth and eyes twitching. “Danny really wanted to be here, Pam. But he unfortunately had some family matters to take care of.”

“Of course, I understand. I wouldn’t expect him to put one of his oldest childhood friends above his family.”

Danny’s lips thinned. Sam’s mother never did like him, and after more than fifty years, that apparently hadn’t changed.

Well. At least Danny didn’t have to pretend to smile. He could make faces at her all he wanted and she’d never know.

Danny stood silently next to Tucker and only listened to the conversation he was carrying with the family beside him. This was fine, really. He was always so shy anyway and bad at making good impressions. It was just fine that no one could see him so he didn’t have to interact with anyone.

Just… Just fine.

The funeral conductor began addressing the crowd. Danny did not recognize him. In fact, he did not recognize most of the people here. When he and Sam were younger, he knew everything about her and the people in her life, but after high school, she moved pretty far from Amity Park to attend a more prestigious university, and then she just…never returned. She met a guy in one of her classes who was also a goth in his high school years, and they married shortly after graduating. Danny remembered opening the wedding invitation, smiling at how not at all surprising it was that she’d marry a guy named Lucien.

And now her children were all grown up. He could see them in the front row, all four of them. They even had small children of their own now.

During the funeral, throughout the eulogies and speeches, no one mentioned her cause of death even once. No, of course not, they all wanted to focus on her life, her strong moments, not her weakest.

But Danny’s mind kept drifting to how this all started, to that first phone call from Sam just a little under five years earlier when she told him she had been diagnosed with leukemia. She posted frequently on social media about her journey through chemotherapy, remission, recurrence, more chemo, a second remission, another recurrence, more chemo and experimental treatments, a third remission.

And throughout it all, Danny talked to her on the phone as often as he could and used rips in the Ghost Zone to visit her in the hospital when needed.

After the fourth recurrence, when the cancer spread to her brain, the doctors sent her home to die. And Danny visited her every single time she informed him that her husband and children weren’t around. He had to keep his half-ghost secret even from them.

“You look good, Danny,” Sam remarked during one of their final times together.

She had been lying on a hospital bed that had been set up in her home. The left side of her face drooped as she looked at him out of only her right eye; the cancer in her brain had caused irreparable nerve damage. Danny sat beside her and held her nearly translucent hand riddled with veins.

“It’s incredible how young you still look; I keep forgetting you’re sixty like me. You look like you could still be in college,” said Sam feebly but with humor. “Maybe I should’ve zapped myself in that portal with you.”

Danny studied her pale face, the sparse patches of hair on her head, her loose skin.

“You look beautiful, Sam,” said Danny.

Sam gave him her familiar smirk, the one he loved so much even if it was slightly lopsided now. “You don’t have to lie to me.”

Danny wished he could make her believe he absolutely meant it with all his heart.

“I don’t think I’m going to become a ghost,” said Sam the very last time he visited her. “If you’re worried.”

Danny furrowed his brow.

“I’ve had five years to prepare for this,” said Sam. “I’m okay with it now. I feel ready. I’m not going to die with any intense regrets or unfinished business. So don’t worry; I won’t be making your life as a ghost fighter harder when I go.”

She gave him one last smile, one last memory for him to cherish.

“There’s just no longer a call for me to stay.”

Danny stifled a sob and put a hand over his mouth even though no one at this funeral could see him anyway.

“You okay?” whispered Tucker.

“Yeah,” Danny replied as breathlessly as he could. He looked forward again at the current speaker, one of Sam’s sons. His eyes were dry but bloodshot.

One of them had to die first. Of him, Sam, and Tucker, one of them had to be the first to go. Danny didn’t expect it to happen quite this soon, but it was always inevitable. And then the next friend would die, and one would outlive the others.

But he and Tucker both already knew who would be attending whose funeral in the future. It was only a question of when Tucker would die and how old Danny would appear at that time.

And Jazz, well, he knew he’d be outliving her, too. And that was normal. Him, Sam, Tucker, Jazz, they were all about the same age. It was supposed to be that way.

And it was also normal for him to attend his parents’ funerals. They were both gone now. He had expected them to die first and was at peace with it.

He again looked at the speaker, Sam’s son, speaking at his mother’s funeral because that was how it was meant to be, children burying their parents and then moving on until their own children buried them.

In the front row, Pam cried into her hands.

And Danny realized that would one day be him.

He clutched at his chest but kept his shuddering breaths quiet. His children already looked older than he did, which could only mean—

They would get old before he did.

They would die before he did.

And for all he knew, his grandchildren might surpass him in age as well, and then he’d be attending their funerals, too.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. This wasn’t how he was supposed to be. He wasn’t supposed to be half ghost. He was born human and he was supposed to stay that way.

Was this God punishing him for bastardizing the body he was given? Forcing him to watch everyone he loved die before he could finally leave, too?

Pam was still crying. If only Danny could ask her what it was like to bury her child. Maybe she could help him prepare for when he would have to bury all of his.

Danny sniffled as a couple tears slid down his face. Tucker glanced up in his direction but said nothing. For once, Danny was glad to be invisible. He hated crying with other people around, but here, he could cry as much as he wanted and no one would ever know.

He was supposed to grow old with his wife. Supposed to grow old with Tucker. It was hard to even think of Tucker as his “bro” these days, not with this difference in appearance and abilities. Tucker was once full of energy, and now he was just tired all the time and unable to walk or run for long without triggering inflammation in his knee. Hanging out with Tucker now was mostly just watching TV or talking or maybe playing a video game if Tucker was up for it. Nothing like the adventures they used to have, the adventures Danny still had energy for. It had been years since Tucker even joined Danny on ghost patrol.

And that should’ve been fine. That should’ve been normal. Danny should’ve been right there with him, advanced in years and down on energy, the two of them enjoying the remainder of their lives while watching their kids take on new adventures.

Instead, he was watching everyone slowing down and dying while he was stuck here and unable to follow them. Even if he wanted to join them all sooner in death, his ghostly obsession would never allow it. He had to stay here for as long as his supernatural body and health allowed him to.

You’re so lucky, Sam, Tucker, Jazz, his wife, and even his kids kept telling him. So lucky to not have to deal with wrinkles and thinning hair, straining eyes and aching joints, discolored skin spots and bulging veins.

Well, someday he was gonna be all alone. Then how lucky would he be?

A cloud covered the sun as a new speaker moved to the front. Danny shivered in the new cold shade. He wished he could say a few words, let everyone know just how amazing Sam was and how much he missed her and how much he still loved her.

But he couldn’t. He was stuck right here.

#danny phantom #danny fenton #tucker foley #sam manson #angst #major character death #imekitty writes #prompt writing #honorable-asshole #i write every day i swear

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phantomofthepairofdice · 4 years ago

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Sofia Coppola: Intellect and Empathy in Observation

There’s a quote from the unspecified narrator of The Virgin Suicides that seems to define the films of its director: “We knew that they knew everything about us, and that we couldn’t fathom them at all.” Recollected by a neighborhood boy in reference to the Lisbon sisters, it captures the feeling of observation and the total lack of understanding of the film’s subjects. Sofia Coppola seems to be obsessed with perception and projection. All of her films are about that in one way or another. I think The Virgin Suicides is her best for just how perfectly it balances infatuation and objectification that comes not only with youth but with memory. It’s an idiosyncratic movie that follows whatever stylistic whims it pleases, and it’s all the better for it. It’s got loads of literary ideas to stimulate the mind, but it’s equally tangible and grounded in experiences that feel lived-in and relatable. It’s also a type of movie that Sofia Coppola doesn’t really make anymore.

I find a good deal of Coppola’s more recent movies to have an empathic barrier built in the style - she’s practically always consciously looking in from the outside. It’s an approach that works thematically for her fascinations, but I often find myself without any emotional cornerstones - so when the scenes like those later Somewhere where Johnny really feels for the first time in a long time, I’m not moved as much as I’m conscious that I should be moved. It’s all by design, so this is just a personal reaction, mind you. I still think that movie is pretty terrific, just not in the way that resonates with me as felt in her more character-centered-POV movies (Marie Antoinette, On the Rocks, Lost in Translation) and her granddaddy thesis on projection and scrutiny with a hyper-textural/textual touch in The Virgin Suicides. She’s a filmmaker who is always playing with ideas that I love, but her variances in form are the primary dictator of my opinions on the films.

The easiest comparison to make between her films is that both Lost in Translation and Somewhere are about older actors who feel unmoored being reminded of their former passions by a young blonde woman while on a trip to another country. Those similarities are valuable in looking at just how differently they’re presented. Both are edited by the great Sarah Flack, but Lost in Translation is subjective and Somewhere is objective. The latter has a strictly locked-down, long take approach that replaces the liveliness of what came before with a formality that demands analysis in the moment. It’s a shift from heart to head.

Maybe it’s because they share Harris Savides as cinematographer, but I’m inclined to compare Somewhere and The Bling Ring to Gus van Sant’s Death Trilogy (Gerry, Elephant, Last Days). Those have a similarly quiet and languid observational style, but they pack an emotional punch that probably derives from having more dramatic stakes and the naturalism that comes from the improvisation at play. Maybe the shift came from the lukewarm (at best) reception to Marie Antoinette that could have only felt more exaggerated after Lost in Translation was an Oscar player in the above-the-line categories. Maybe it’s because this period of her career was when she stopped shooting music videos and started shooting Dior ads. I’m certainly no expert, this is merely speculation. Observation and projection, if you will.

The Bling Ring is the only Coppola movie I think does not work. For one, it feels didactic and overly critical of its subjects. The Leslie Mann character of the home-schooling mother is just a bundle of trite declarations that feel blunt. It’s bizarre to have a movie that so clearly states its themes and ideas in the writing immediately following a movie that mostly relies on images (of a Ferrari circling a track in the middle of the desert, of Johnny sitting in a makeup chair with a blank face covered in putty). It’s hard to imbue shading to characters that the movie is claiming are hollow for one reason or another. Visually, it’s got a thematically appropriate plasticity and glamor that highlights the affectations of its subjects. But that’s just it: the people in the movie feel more like subjects than characters. The Bling Ring feels like it’s an anthropological experiment that’s hermetic by design, but flat in experience. I think that there are a few inspired sequences like Marc dancing in front of his webcam, the long take robbery, and of course the magnificently smacking “I wanna rob” as delivered by Emma Watson’s Nicki. Where Somewhere is bound to be compared to Lost in Translation, The Bling Ring is almost inherently linked to Spring Breakers and Pain & Gain. All released in within a year of one another, they’re auteurs with experience music videos riffing on very similar ideas, but the difference is that Spring Breakers and Pain & Gain present the maximalism and absurdity in a maximalist and absurd aesthetic aiming for satire rather than instruction. Her follow-up, The Beguiled, is a wonderful needling, but I doubt anyone would argue it has the salacious and tawdry pleasures that the premise (and the previous adaptation) offer. So maybe Coppola was more into intellectual exercises than emotional character pieces. No knock against her, some of my favorite filmmakers (chiefly Steven Soderbergh) have a tendency to feel a bit cold and calculated while still making great movies. Imagine my surprise when I saw the romping, loose, character comedy she put out last year.

Honestly, I was a bit reticent in coming to On the Rocks since it seemed like my favorite Coppola movies where a thing of the past, but I was delighted to see a story that was far more in line with a single character’s point-of-view from script to style. The story isn’t about the marriage or parenthood as much as it is Laura’s experience of them. Lost in Translation and Marie Antoinette similarly channel that perspective; they see a foreign landscape through the eyes of their lead characters. On top of that, Coppola was using a talent of hers that I thought had dulled in the past few years: her great sense of humor. Gone, too, was the prim approach in filming the story, despite sharing the same DP as The Beguiled. It’s a movie that’s sweet but never saccharine and has the viewer alongside the characters as opposed to behind a one-way mirror.

The next project slated on Coppola’s schedule is an adaptation of Edith Wharton’s “The Custom of the Country.” Anyone’s guess is as good as mine as to what her approach might be. Wharton adaptations certainly can avoid the stodgy perception they have like in Scorsese’s The Age of Innocence. She might channel The Beguiled or maybe she’ll make something more like Marie Antoinette with its crackling energy and palpable empathy. Shoot, she might do something we’ve never seen before, and that’s exciting. That lack of certainty in approach is part of what makes her such an interesting filmmaker. She’s flexible and fluid in terms of approach, and I’ll always show up to see how she comes to these stories about status, perception, and the struggle to define your identity in an echelon that rejects renegades. I just hope that sense of playfulness that came back in On the Rocks is here to stay.

Just for the record, my Sofia Coppola ranking is as follows:

1. The Virgin Suicides

2. Marie Antoinette

3. Lost in Translation

4. On the Rocks

5. Somewhere

6. The Beguiled

7. The Bling Ring

Thanks for reading.

#sofia coppola #somewhere #the virgin suicides #lost in translation #marie antoinette #the bling ring #the beguiled #on the rocks #movies #film

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calypsoff · 4 years ago

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Seventeen. Part 3

Chris is really drunk, I can hear him in the background getting annoyed but who the hell has his phone “hi, it’s Clinton. I’m sorry, my son and I went to get some drinks and then ended up having too many, well Chris did. I apologise” oh my god, his dad. I am stunned but I need to say something “oh it’s ok Clinton, honestly. I’m just glad to know he is safe. That is the real point here, just get him hone. He’s stilly” he really went out drinking with his dad “I will do, I apologise for my son” he disconnected the phone and so did I, he didn’t need to apologise but the way Chris was shouting I love you, and the. I heard a female in the background, but I think he was out in a bar, I wonder the reason why and also Chris drunk, I have never had the pleasure of drunk Chris but he seems pretty fun and he remembered me, he is sweet but I am totally annoyed with him: I want more for us but he wants less, I hate that for us and it’s really upsetting me. I have been back a few hours now and I’m waiting to go into a meeting, I am tired and fell asleep on the drive here to the meeting, Mel woke me and now I am just waiting. I don’t know, I was being playful with him and assumed he would want to keep something at the home but he’s always saying no, just kind of upset me “who was that?” Mel asked, letting out an oh “Chris, a very drunk Chris. He was saying something and then shouting that he loves me, typical” shaking my head “yeah you never really said about how the Mexico trip was?” Stretching my body “good” stifling out a yawn, I am so tired.

I know Mel wants to know more so I might as well spill “we didn’t do much but have sex, we jumped off a cave. Well you know the side of a cave, and it was so good. We kissed in the pure white waters, and we have a video of us jumping in it. Then more sex, we had such a good time” I seem so fed up and the tour hasn’t even started yet “I hope he isn’t showing out knowing full well who he with” Mel said but she has got a point, I hope Chris isn’t “I am happy for you both though, it’s nice to see you are very much invested in this meaning the fact you’re willing to have a baby and pretty much halt your career” I knew she would bring that up, taking in a deep breath “I want a baby so bad, the reason I never bought this forward is because I was unhappy with the man but I’m not now, I am content. I want a family” Mel squinted her eyes at me “right and if he turns around and says no, I didn’t want the baby, so I am out. Then what?” That could happen “the so be it, I still got my love child” Mel is not amused “the help has got into you, Robyn. A baby half way through a release of an album? It’s wrong and as a friend I want you to tell him, the truth. He deserves to know, I don’t want you to be hurt until his because he can turn around and make you a single mother, you look tired and dragged down already” my eyes bulged out “ok maybe not that dramatic but still, I want the best for you” maybe Mel is right, but I want my baby, I don’t care for the rest.

Staring at Jay Brown, I don’t know but I’m just not with it “forgive me, I forgot to ask. How was your time away with Chris?” He asked “oh erm just great” I smiled lightly “that is fine, so this tour will be tiresome. We will be travelling, you get off stage and you’re out to the airport, seven days you will do this. No stopping, once we get to the city then we can check into a hotel and have a little refresh but other than that it will be none stop along with the press and fans with us, we will get fans from each city on there too, so this is very stressful very full on, Rihanna we need you to be there and on time, we need you to at least interact with the fans on the first day on the plane, after that. Then you can let loose, but we ended that first, on the day of the New York date, that is when the album will be released. I have had sleepless nights over this, I am ready. We are ready for this” this sounds long “ok, and did you add Chris to the people with us? He is entourage now” looking up at Jay Brown, I hope he has “I did, I had to move Tina on the plane. The other two will be there but not in business class with us. But he’s on there” I don’t need to argue to him about it “thanks, but yeah. I am excited for this, it’s going to be long, but it will be different” that is all I have to ask “cool, Robyn I need to speak to you alone. Goodnight to the rest” oh god, I wonder what he needs to tell me now on my own, hopefully something productive.

Everyone filed out of the room and left us to it, I wonder what it is “erm, I didn’t know your new boyfriend has a record for drugs?” I should have known “we all do stupid things Jay; he made a mistake and did his time. It was a very big mistake, trust me. I know him, I know the man I am dating so that was it?” he could have kept people here while he said that to me “it doesn’t look good on you, all the tabloids are saying is that you are with a thug, he is with you for money. He is a nobody really? An ex-convict that will be on this tour, now he is part of the entourage. I won’t be shocked if he breaks your heart Robyn, you seem sot be very much in love with him. Look I have no issues as long as you are putting work forward, that needs to be always be ahead of your list” why the fuck does this guy likes to stress me out “right” I mumbled, I really don’t need this shit from him, I really don’t “you’re clearly annoyed with me but I am looking out for my artist which is you Robyn, I have to make sure you’re good, I can’t just sit back and let it slide and not mention anything to you about it, what kind of manager would I be? Just don’t let him get between your line of work, but that was all. Just you are looking like a stupid in love girl, but I trust your judgement anyways” getting up from the seat, he is so annoying “sure, see you in New York” let me go.

I did try and call Chris but of course he will be a drunk mess so he will call when he is ready, shaking my head locking my phone “tired of this shit, a drunk Chris and a nosey ass manager” Mel hasn’t questioned what has happened at all, she knows I have a lot to think about but also I am very tired “do you have some rehearsal now?” Mel asked “I do, I also need to go and see Wale, do a little feature with him. I promised I would see him” Mel gasped “oh my god yes, you said you would do the remix! Yes bitch, ok I am excited. But I thought rehearsal?” Mel keeps mentioning that “I do have that but it’s just a meet up with the band that will be coming and then tomorrow I will get down to the mini rehearsal, then prep to go New York and then leave tomorrow night, hectic I know but it is what it is. A bitch got to work and make her muller” Mel didn’t say anything but she knows I am going to be working like a dog for these few days, and on top of that I am feeling already tired when I have done nothing yet “what did Jay want anyways? What did he mention” Mel asked “that he is a bad guy, he has a record” I shrugged “oh yeah, they are really running with it. I just saw Chris’ following shoot up and he ended up on Shade Room, I swear I cackled. They need to leave him alone, there is so many unhappy people that they project their hate onto him, like what the fuck does it got to do with them, like they are jumping to conclusions about him. Oh god, did you see his ex on there too? She made, you stole her man” I knew it “typical, I don’t care for her. I will get my lawyer on her to shut her mouth about us, cheeky bitch” I really can’t stand her, and then she is now pregnant because of TJ.

Crazy how there is always that one paparazzi here, I mean it’s random but whatever. Walking around the SUV and making my way to the studio. My driver walked alongside me, I do wonder who is here that there is paparazzi here, unless there is someone leaking something. I guess I will find out “extra as fuck, Wale would never” walking into the studio building “I know he wouldn’t, I just wonder who else is here though. Did he say second studio on the second floor?” staring at Mel “uhhh yeah, let’s take the elevator though because I am not taking the stairs” I was going to walk up the steps “you know if you didn’t go Mexico with Chris you wouldn’t be so rushed” Mel is telling me something I don’t know “I know but I wanted to take him away, I don’t regret it but it’s made me rush things” the elevator pinged open, stepping into the elevator “he should have come back with you too” I snorted laughing “we argued about that already, he fell out about his suitcase so please. Let’s not start on the coming with me part” crossing my arms across my chest, there was only a short ride up “see” eyeballing Mel, the doors pinged open “riri baby” Rakim, he is here “the hell you doing here?” I questioned “waiting on you, how are you” he hugged me, just out of nowhere “I am good, and yourself? But seriously. Is that why there is papz outside, Ferg. Looking well” moving back from the hug “oh no Marshall is here, they came with him but I am going, see you at the VMAs” stepping off the elevator “likewise” I grinned walking off “nice to see such love between you both” Mel said behind me which made me laugh.

Wale studio session ended up being an all-night thing and I am just getting home, I cancelled the meet up with the band for tomorrow afternoon “I really need to sleep, look at me. I am looking a mess” my eyes are feeling so dry “we’re nearly there, I wanted to say. It’s funny to see you and Rakim being so formal now, like you both get on so well. Better then you both did, he looked so happy to see you too” she got a point he did “yeah” my phone started ringing in my hand “oh it’s the drunk” I said laughing, answering the call “hey” I would have imagines he would be asleep for longer “you’re awake still?” Chris said, he seemed so shocked that I am “busy, like I told you but yeah. How come you’re awake? Not drunk still” Chris laughed “I am feeling it still, I just wanted to see if you was ok” I thought so “uhm yeah I am ok, I am going to bed now. Just ring me tomorrow when you’re fully feeling yourself, ok?” there is no point, he seems out of it still “sure, I love you” smiling lightly “I love you too” disconnecting the call “I am also feeling a little too tired to be conversating, get me to a bed!” Mel laughed at me.

#Chrianna FF #Chrianna #Chrianna Fanfiction #Fanfic #Fanfiction

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popculturebuffet · 4 years ago

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Hickman’s X-Men Line: One Year in Part 1: Prelude, House and Powers of X, X-Men and New Mutants (Hickman)

Under the cut is an explination of how hickman’s run happened (the mass decay will be covered another time probably), and dives into his x-books: house of x, powers of x,x-men and his breif run on new mutants and what i thought. Pax Krakoa baby.

One year ago, I breathed a sigh of relief as I read the utterly masterful house of x #1. See for the past few months, i’d been waiting on baited breath for this comic with a level of anticipation not matched by any before or since. Even the debut of a spinoff to Chew, one of my faviorite comics of all time that i deftnetly need to do a retrospective on, this week got within the same galaxy and it still wasn’t on the same level. This was big, grandiose and everything I hoped for. And whatever issues I had as House and it’s sister series came out slowly died out as the full story unfolded, my jaw dropped and my faith in Hickman to save the x-men was fully delivered. At last the x-men were back on top. And it was going to be one hell of a ride.

As you probably know the x-men had been treated pretty badly at marvel due to fox having the movie rights, a move that still baffles and frustrates me. Instead of making money to rub in fox’s face by promoting the hell out of them in merchandise, animation, video games and of course comics ALONGSIDE the avengers, they basically ignored the x-men and fantastic four to give fox less to work with to spite them while fox.. entirely ignored this as since both franchises have been around since the 60′s and the x-men had had mountains of spinoffs to give them mountains of characters. So in short: a decision to spite and hurt their compeitors only cost marvel money, pissed off fans and fox’s eventual absortion as far as I can tell had absolutely nothing to do with any of this.

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Thankfully marvel DID stop being stupid eventually and relented: The Fantastic Four came back a year before house of x with a decent run by dan slott, which is thankfully more like earlier spider-man work and ff work, and less like what his spider-man run became from superior onward despite the ocasional misfire but i’ll talk about both runs another day. I mostly bring it up because with this revivial, marvel also slowly reintegrated the four back into the marvel universe and made their return feel like a big deal. The X-Men however took a bit: while they got an earlier shot at returning with ressurxion. Buuut with the idea of having hickman return in their back pocket, marvel apparently refused, at least according to cullen bunn who I fell has no real reason to lie, to let the writers rock the boat too much and the era perdictably was just meh, especially flagship book X-Men Gold which was written bafflingly by Mark Gugenhiem and outside of one or two good ideas basically felt like the comics equivlent of one of those party store albums where every song is a cover done by someone who couldn’t give half a damn. There were bright spots though with Cullen Bunn finishing out his awesome x-men tenure with x-men blue, Sina Grace’s wonderful iceman that took the wonky execution of Bendis’ decision to make bobby drake gay and made it work beautifully, and the decent if somewhat baffling x-men red. But overall it just felt like a missed opportunity and with the fox deal in bloom and a new EiC, marvel NEEDED something bigger, bolder and grander to do with marvel’s strangest heroes of all. After all all eyes would be on them while Marvel’s Movie department took a few years, probably longer now thanks to the pandemic, to let things cool off before bringing the x-men into the mcu. Enter Jonathan Hickman: Writer of another one of my faviorite runs of all time, his Fantastic Four run, along with an enjoyable but heavily flawed avengers run, a secret warriors run i’ve read half of that was a hell of a ride, tons of ultimate comics, and a bunch of indies I haven’t read but are probably great. A wordy weirdo and i’m convinced the second coming of grant morrison, and I hope one day the two work together on something tha’ts equal parts weird and amazing.

The morrison comparison is also apt as both came into the X-Men at a time when the x-men badly needed them: Just like Hickman morrison had to deal with a largely stagnant x-men and changed them to fit the times. And yes unsuprisngly i’ll also be covering morrisons run, warts and all, and it’s also one of my faviorite comics of all time. However Hickman was given a huge advtange his spirtiual predecessor, and really few comics writers EVER have gotten: full control of the x-men line. Unlike morrison who wasn’t even allowed to use certain characters despite writing the main fucking x-book, Hickman got full creative control: full say in the direction of the story, full say in who came on board and to let them pitch whatever they wanted to do. And honestly it’s an apporach that’s not only reovlutionarly but makes the books FEEL like their actually occuring around the same time. Sure their all still seperate entities, but it DOES feel like one coheisive universe. Contrastingly with the avengers Black Panther’s solo has had him on a year long sojurn in space, before returning to earth.. while also running the avengers over in jason aaron’s run and having his own spinoff team, without any fucking clue as to when intergalactic empire of wakanda takes place in relation to everything else. Tony Stark is currently just taking back both his own damn name and the iron man name in his own book, but is also a major player in avengers, and empyre with no mention of his seeming drunken spiral (itw as a ploy) or arno taking up the armor and I feel these issues rather than the neglect the x-men once had are why krakoa’s impact isn’t being felt more in other titles. I’m not saying don’t let books do their own thing, but I am saying let them have fucking consequences and weight instead of just acting like one isn’t happening or at the very least have a character be absent for an arc so you can fit the other stories into continuity easier. As X-Men’s shown it dosen’t stifle inovation and hell even immortal hulk easily fit into no road home with a fucking note saying “this takes place before x issue” it’s not that hard. This advantage was likely part of Hickman’s terms for coming back. See the x-men were the one thing at marvel he never got to do. The Gillieon and Aaron runs and Bendis runs meant the spot simply wasn’t open and by the time he was leaving it was clear marvel wanted to bury the x-men not praise them, so his ideas had no run. But the X-Men were what got Jonathan into comics. A shocking fact I learned at last years comic con, during which most of the dawn of x titles were revealed, was he WASN’T a fantastic four or avengers fan as a kid, not hating them but like me with the avengers for some time, not really caring about them. But with both runs, he did his homework, read as much as possible, and BECAME a fan, and it shows as both runs show a deep love for both marvel and the teams present. With X-Men they were his dream, his golden goose, his windmill, he just never was in the right place at the right time... but with Marvel needing his starpower and creativity and having nothing to loose with the x-men and badly needing a big run to hlep keep intrest in the x-men till the new movies, he finally was. So seeing the company needed him and he could get his dream and the control he needed, while dc had just taken bendis, didn’t need him and until very recently was ran by a moron, his choice to come back to marvel instead of go to dc as he’s admitted, was obvious. And it ended up being the right one. House and Powers of x were massive creative and commerical hits and the following titles have all been mostly praised. The new direction has been a boon for the franchise,k the fans and marvel. So being a fan of this direction, as you can tell by the massive intro, to give my thoughts on each book so far: what I think their doing right, where some went wrong etc, since I’d rather wait another year or so befor ediving into these and let some more of hickman’s plans and future story hints spread throughout his books pay off first. WIth that all out of the way it’’s time for a deep dive of x.So grab some plant based snacks, your x-shaped helmets, and your krakoan coffee, it’s time to finally get into hickman’s era of x-men.

HOUSE OF X AND POWERS OF X The opening salvo and just with two mini series that are one, though why he DIDN’T just have them be one big mini series I genuinely do not know, probably to justify having two diffrent artists to carry the load, is an utter masterpiece. Plain and simple. Let’s get the status quo the series set up out of the way so I can dig into it more: Magento and Xavier were revealed to have been working together for years behind the scenes.. with Moira Mactaggert, one of my favoirite x characters who the series changes utterly and forever. See instead of being the one human who consitantly is on mutants side and one of the x-men’s staunchest allies who sadly hadn’t been resusrected in 20 fucking years, she was a mutant herself, her ablility being reincarnation.. and thus had lived through 9 of her 10 lives seeing mutantkind always loose so told xavier and magneto about this in the hopes of breaking the wheel and letting mutantkind live this time. However hickman , while revealing the alliance does brilliantly still make it work in continuity for me: it’s clear from moira’s notes in one issue, as house and powers and any following titles love having charts or text based sections that I feel give the comics a unique flavor and really help boost most issues, that Charles optimism she was trying to break him of and faith in humanity took years to fully shatter: he plotted and schemed with her to protect his species but it was clear he probably felt it woudln’t be necessary that humanity would prove her wrong.. and by this series it’s clear, no they haven’t changed, the majority of them just want to genocide mutants and have tried again and again and again while the rest who don’t necessarily want it, paticuarlly the superheroes did nothing while Magneto chaffed against her after the whole “alter his infant self after he was deaged by a mutant he made into a baby to be more pacificsitc which naturally pissed him off when that wore off”. Yes that’s a thing that actually happened pre and post retcons it’s why a survivor of the holocaust is , while not a YOUNG man, still healthy and vibrant. It’s a clever way to not undermine those stories while still telling this one and this retcon is a move I like as unlike most retcons it’s both there to tell a good story and excuted in a way that outside of moira dosen’t undermine anything. The Moira retcon I was and to a degree still am mixed on. While the new version of her is brilliant, creative and intresting and I can’t wait to see what happens with her next time she shows up, I do mourn the old as the x-men had few human allies and now their only big one is now a mutant herself, but it IS in service of a really damn good narraitive and the twist that the bad futures presented were in fact other lives of moira was brilliant, and it’s nice to see SOMETHING done with her. I’d rather something that i have a small problem with lead to really great things and be worth the sacrifice of her former character, than just changing things because “fuck it I want to do this and their letting me do this’ as a lot of retcons tend to be. Hickman’s story needs moira and her cycle of defeat to truly soar to the heights it’s reaching, and to make Charles and Xavier’s back alley actions make sense, so i’ll glady sacrifce one version of a character that I really liked for another version of her that’s also really good. The other big swing though I was completley on board for: Hinted at early on by serveral dead mutants being alived, after a sucidie mission against new big bads and mutant hating extermists orchis, who are far better written than other extermists, it’s revealed just why death has seemingly taken a holiday: the big plan that has been decades in the making for xavier and co? That will reshape mutant kind and required working with mr sinsiter of all people? Revivie all dead mutants. See in a brilliant reveal Cerebro isn’t just a mutant tracker; It’s a copier, copying their essecnes reaguarly and storing them for later, updating them every so often and thus meaning any who died can come back. Why it took Chuck so long to do this is also explained as he needed 5 specific mutant power sets to do it and thus had to wait till they had everything they needed: Goldballs, yes goldballs, spits out his giant golden balls, phrasing, which hickman in an insane and awesome turn revealed to be EGGS. Yes EGGS. Proteus, Moira’s son and former villian whose now pacificed since this body cloning process means he has an infnite suply of xavier bodies to burn through and thus isn’t killing people, warps reality to mamke the eggs viable. Elixir, a healer whose been through some shit the poor guy,gives the eggs , once injected with the mutant in questions dna via syringe because of course, life, and Tempus, goldballs former classmate fellow bendis creation and mistress of time, speeds it up a bit so they don’t have to wait a good few decades for some mutants to rerez. The fifth that makes all this possible is hope summers, mutant messiah and adopted daughter of cable returned to promence once more, whose power is revealed to be power maniulation and thus can boost their powers to the degree neded for this. it’s a BRILLIANT turn that not only undoes all the pointless deaths mutants have undergone, but changes the game: Genocide is now near impossible, as humanity has no idea bout any of htis, and instead of mutant lives going down, they can only go once.. as one man once put it...

And as an x-men fan having watched characters I love die again and again for stupid reasons, especially int he placeholder run right before house of x, this was so satsifying. Everyone the x-men had lost, every character I loved who was gone and forgotten.. they were back or would be back. And thanks to Krakoa they were thriving: By giving mutantkind a homeland instead of a headquarters, a nation given to one of their own because he demanded itbasically, or an island fortress designed to give a dying species refuge, they have a goregous sentient island (I’ve always loved krakoa for the record though I wonder what happened to his clone son), with abundant food, teleporting gates across the world to visit wherever they like or live in the various worldwide habitats if they please, and peace and security they’ve neve rknown. No more being woken up to get to a panic room because a sentienl attacked. No more having religious maniacs blow up busses containing your tine. No more having the vast majority of the superhero community do nothing as a fucking plauge cloud wipes out your species. Anything apporaching krakoa now has hundreds of the most powerful beings alive defending all mutants.. and that includes the worst of the worst, all given amntesty.. but they must tow the line or else be given a fate worse than death. After years of pain and suffering and misery mutantkind is free safe and happy. They still have to fight to get the rest of their kind out of racist hands and to saftey, the fight’s not over.. but now the odds are in mutantkinds favor. It’s paradise. And yet this mini, and this whole run dosen’t run from tough issues; The mutants are now isolationists and only mutants are allowed on krakoa itself.. on the one hand this is a bad idelogy and potentially dangerous, instead of fighting for harmony fighting for my land alone.. but it’s also see why Mutantkind has taken to it. The X-Men have tried for at the least a decade in universe and at the most and most likely 15 years to live in harmony, fight for mankind and make peace with them.. and only a small chunk has acutally tried to help them with that. The other large fraction? They either build death machines to try and wipe out all mutants, and in the case of Cassandra NOva who while not a human is still a racist genocidal bitch, SUCCEED in wiping out a large chunk, or do nothing while mutantkind suffers. The series forces you to think about the implications that marvel comics themselves previous ignored: That with all the superheros in this world who arent mutants.. more often than not htey’ve done fuck all when terrible shit happens. When Genosha died, not a one asked the x-men what happened or tried to hunt down those responsible. When Decemation happened, the avengers were more concerned with helping the x-men cover it up than helping them move on and did nothing as the goverment made xavier’s into a reservation, even after regrestration happened and the goverment had more heroes than ever to spare to helping them. When the T-Mist happened years later instead of stopping terrigin or asking the inhumans to stop it for the good of another race, the rest of the heroes just did fuck all. Sure the avengers were on a budget and the ff were asbent, but there were enough heroes in the world still and enough teams to do something about it and only the ones with mutants on them did!. IT’s hard to say “well you shoudln’t exclude them”.. when the rest of superhero kind has been subtly doing it their whole lives. But it dosen’t shy away from the claims of racial superiority the isoaltion or the fact the x-men basically sued for nationhood by making requiring recognizing their nation hood the price for trading for their life saving and extending, world changing drugs, which you would still need to buy. There’s other issues, one that i’ll get to in a moment as it was only revealed in x-men. Various characters, Corsair in issue one of the ongoing, the fincial summit in issue 4 and the ff both in house of x #1 and ff/x-men, all question this and some of the ethics. Hickman brilliantly decides instead of just painting the x-men as absolute moral rights, to show their new nation warts and all: the genuine good their doing and trying to do but also the price they have to pay for it and the mistakes they may be making. And the compromise necessary to build a nation. It’s all chiling, compelling shit that’s even more releveant in a time when bigotry is piling up like crazy. Both house and x-men, which i’ll get to in a second, ask questions with no easy answers and it makes them a compelling read. Also compelling is the two mini series use of flashbacks: The two previous moira timelines, which we learn are just that as we go, are compelling with the apoclaypse timeline having loveable heroes were are heartbroken to see die in the struggle, while the last timeline seemingly sees the mutants turn as bad as the humans.. only to peel back a layer at the end and reveal humans are still very much the real monsters, and them evolving via machine is a threat to mutant kind's natural evolution. It was a good story twist and of course there’s FAR more to dig into in both books, and I defintely will at some point in the future as I said. But there’s tons of great ideas here: Sinsiter not only being a mutant but a reluctant ally, the same of apocalyspe, the heavy questions I got into above, the idea of machines being mutants greatest threat which makes a ton of sense, and the various ones I already went into. I can’t gush about this book enough, but since this is already long enough i’m trying. The point is both mini series are great and how you do a self contianed event perfectlY plenty of consequence, plenty of scope but enough character and brilliant ideas and a FUCK TON of quotable and iconic lines, all blend into one of the very best series i’ve ever read. And lead directly into..

X-Men I talked about a lot of what this book represents above as it’s a direct continuation of the above, but the book on it’s own is still something diffrent. while it continues setting things up, playing with the new toybox hickman set up, and asking the tough questions, x-men does it in a diffrent way. House and Powers bounce around through time while all telling one huge story and one huge bundle of setup for this status quo. X-Men instead is a bunch of single issues. It’s still a ton of setup, though with enough payoff to house and powers that it at least so far hasn’t become tedious, especailly since hickman specifically has plans for all of it and has shown in the past he’s a long game man when it comes to storytelling, but through more action packed stories that, with the exception of mistque’s spotlight issue so far, have one shared element: Cyclops, aka Scott Summers, who as grand captain of krakoa is the nation’s ruling council’s go to guy for missions and who he himself can form any team he once for any mission. Cyclops, like the x-men hadn’t been treated well for years; Various characters lambasted him after the phoenix force drove him mad and lead to him killing charles xavier, and before that his run as leader of utopia, not helped by x-force painting him as a cold heartless dickweed, had him forced to make questionable decisions that made fans turn agains thim despite the hard position he was in. But now with the burden of absolute leadership of mutantkind in other hands, HIckman writes scott beautifully and has restored him to his proper place. WIth Xavier taking over as absolute leader of mutantkind and his race no longer hanging by a thread for the first time in years scott can relax and ENJOY himself. As the first issue shows he has everything he ever could have possibly wanted: A healthy marriage with Jean again, and an open one at that with him free to still see emma and Jean openly seeing Logan. Logan himself no longer trying to murder scott for his mistakes or kill his teenage self due to bad writing, but being his best friend again and also living with him and presumibly having threeways because they have connected bedrooms and of course jean would want both at once. Maybe they also just fuck each other sometimes again the details haven’t exactly been clear but it’d explain the tension disappearing. Maybe the schism would’ve ended quicker if Cyclops and Wolverine just fucked each other after children of the atom. Hey not every question is a deep personal one on krakoa sometimesm it’s just “Are these two fucking and could it have solved things faster in the past if they did?”. Also I almost forgot to mention, and added this near the end of writing this, in additoin to everything else scott now lives ON THE FUCKING MOON, on the blue area with a breathable atompshere, on a moon house with his family and fuckbuddy and Vulcan’s buddys. It’s fucking amazing. But moving back to other things scott’s gotten besides logan’s wang up his butt, as seen in issue one thanks to the gates his dad can now visit anytime, his brothers live with him with Vulcan going from genocidal dickweed to weirdo thanks to his experinces between his “death’ and this series, and he’s just. happy. And as a leader he takes the x-men on thrilling missions: the series combines action with character and worldbuilding and it is great. The worldbuilding part has been tremendous; we’ve seen new foes in the returning children of the vault and horticulture, aka what if the golden girls were tv ma, and also plant based supervillians plotting a better future for mankind that krakoa’s drugs clash with. We’ve seen nimrod creeping close, charles and magneto not playing ball with mystique start to backfire, the return of krakoa’s lost love, and in my faviorite arc, we’ve seen broo, one of my faviorite x-people and intellegent brood, eat an egg and thus become god emperor of the brood, not only giving the vicious race a chance to reform but giving the x-men a huge advatange in space, doubeldby events we’ll get to in a second. And biggest of all we saw the crucible: Since those depwoered by the decimation can get power back by dying again, and to prevent overworking the five with mass sucidies krakoa came up with a nasty solution,: earning resurection via ritual combat. And like the above there aren’t easy answers to this: mass sucidie isn’t better or faster, but having mutatns forced to EARN repowering by dying brutally isn’t a great solution either and is kind of sick. And it also opens up questions about ressurectoin that Nightcrawler feels made need reegion to answer htem. It’s again good heavy instreating stuff. We also got my faviorite issue #4 where the x-men go to a fincial summit, and while security detail cyclops and gorgon fight off hired goons...

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Xavier, Magneto and Apocalypse discuss with world leaders about the implications of krakoa’s policys, with Magneto not hiding his love of flexing his superiority. And Charles ends the confrence, after it’s revealed one hired them in an utterly masterful moment: Taking off his helmet to reveal no this is charles, this is him and that even after they tried assintating him he has and always will love humanity he’s just sick of being treated like crap and suffering for doing it and his people suffering for it and he won’t tolerate this sort of shit again. See it for yourself it’s an absolute triumph:

It’s a great scene. Overall an utterly great title that really keeps the momentum moving and I feel is only setting up for even more things.. the only real issue is that A) the title’s been slower at coming out than the other dawn of x titles, though in the case of the empyre tie in’s it’s not hteir fault but the rest sure as shit are, and B) that it has mostly been just setup but it’s been good enough and enjoyable enough and I feel payoff is coming, so I truly don’t care. At long last we have a main x-men book that’s not only fantastic but uttterly engaging and I read most issues multiple times. An utter slam dunk

Giant Sized X-Men: This one is incomplete, so I can’t fully say what the full picture is.. but for the three released so far it’s a mixed bag, though the art in all three is gorgeous as Hickman brought on the best artists in the buisness but it’s telling that while New Mutants bellow had issues that bugged me but was still kinda fun, and the above havem y utter priase I nearly forgot to include these issues. None of them are bad and all have gorgeous art as I said, these are some of the best in the buisness, they feel padded. These were supposed to be annuals, but when they decided to change this to one shots.. they shoudl’ve just made them regular length instead, as there simply isn’t enough story here to fill them and so far only Davis’ issue has both had huge setup (both revealing doug’s fusion with warlock is a secret for some reason and that he is indeed still fully alive and revealing what happened to the x-mansion), and due to Davis background as a writer/artist the pacing to fill one issue and even then it could’ve been trimmed. Not bad and I don’t fault the artists for not being used to being writer/artists or having to do so while also conforming to a larger narriative which likely didn’t help or in the third one’s case having to take over for someone else entirely, but it’s , while not bad no ton par with the two above books and I expect better from hickman.

New Mutants (HIckman’s Issues) I’ll cover Brisson’s issues next time as they feel like a diffrent run entirely, but New Mutants was.. a disapointment. I was utterly pumped for this title going in being a huge fan of the team thanks to finally reading the claremont and sikenwitz run and before that re-reading abnett and lannings utterly great run and hey jonathan hickman who’d already done gangbusters was writing it! It had a great roster!

And it starreed one of hickman’s faviorite mutants and one he’d taken a shine to on avengers, and one of my faviorite superheros, Roberto DeCosta, aka Sunspot. On Avengers hickman took Roberto , already a decent character and made him amazing. He was still rich, young and a playboy as ever.. but he used said wealth and his love of fun wisely. When undercover at an AIM casino instead fo throw down, he offers the agents a free day of partying and gambling on his huge dime, then puts them on payroll as his undercover agents. So to recap Roberto DeCosta won the avengers two valuable double agents in what at the time was one of their biggest threats.. by buying them tons of beer and gambling and presumibly hookers. And later got the loyatly of the rest of AIM through these guys, and when Steve found out tony betrayed him and went off hte deep end hunting him instead of stopping the end of the goddamn world, TOOK OVER AIM HIMSELF IN COMBAT WITH THE AIM SUPREME, and then formed his own avengers.

Literally. He got his own avengers team, most of which left after the apocalypse but he simply found younger and hungrier replacements, and aim.. with blackjack and hookers. The man is a legend. And knowing Roberto if hookers were actually involved he probably treated them with respect and overpayed them because he’s a class act. Then under Al Ewing’s mighty pen, Roberto not only formed another avengers team since most of the avengers he formed to stop the end of the world were busy elsewhere, of young and great avengers, while dying of the aformentioned death cloud, but became an utterly brilliant chessmaster, only failing ONCE becaue of hydra cap getting into his head while AIM was working for the us goverment towards the end as the USAvengers. And yes that’s a real team. It’s as insane and beautiful as it sounds. And his new avengers once fought american kaiju, a godzilla with a flag painted on it chaning usa. Al Ewing is the best and I love him. But he also became a master stratigest and schemer with schemes within schemes within schemes, his crowning one being faking his own death and using his fake funeral to clear out any remaning enimies in AIm, and only quitting AIM to keep it out of goverment hands and in the hands of a trusted friend. He was and still is one of the best avengers there ever was and ever will be. But here, as the new mutants go on a road trip to get sam? He’s a fucking dumbass who hires the worst space laywer possible, only gets off trial because Sam and his wife save them, glad they weren’t broken up by the way, and is utterly useless most of the time. It’s like HIckman forgot the last part of his run.. granted time runs out isn’t very good but still, that wasn’t a good thing to forget and like Hickman wants to ignore ewing’s work for no damn reason, even though Ewing did great things with Roberto and kept him relevant when marvel was choking the x-men to death. It’s fucking embrassing and disapointing to see. The rest of the New Mutants aren’t much better mostly being happy but also not really acting like themselves, with only mondo really standing out since he gets great moments and hasn’t done anything in a while. And Doug, who I negelcted to mention above is one of my faviorite mutants and thanks to being krakoa’s primary method of commuincation, is now one of krakoa’s most important mutants, has a seat at the council with krakoa, and weirdly has his best friend warlock hiding on his arm for reasons that haven’t been explained yet. In Short doug went from beign forgotten to being used awesomely again. Roberto instead of getting the same is set back as a character and ends the arc deciding to stay in space because he misses sam, and will likely become third in his marriage i’m sure, and wants to bone deathbird, x-men villian and frequent shiar usuper. But while rahne actually being happy is a good sight to behold they , except Dani, really dont’ do much. Though Magik gets a fucking amazing scene where she asks the various assasians sent ot kill them if they want to make out , not only revealing she’s bi, but that she’d prefer that to killing them all but does so when they dumbly refuse .. I mean seriously who, whose not in a relationship that’s open or way older than her, not take her up on that? The plot their thrust into isnt’ great either, mostly just more setup but not present as well as in x-men about Gladiator giving the shiar empire to xavier’s daughter.. yes charles has a daughter that was created from his and his ex wife lilandra, whose still dead’s dna, and letting DEATHBIRD Of all people teach her instead of his damn self. Xandra taking over isn’t a terrible idea it’s just handeld poorly. It just feels disapointing.. like hickman WANTS to do a JLI style book here but the combination of him only doing one arc and not really wanting to write the characters as they should be, an issue that only pops up here and in the new mutants cameo during x-men proper and not for doug ever, that makes it fall falt.. I mean there are utterly great moments like the above, and hte image i used to lead off their just stifled by misusing roberto and everyone else.

But overall hickman’s works on x-men are fucking great, intresting and engaging. I’ve read the issues a ton and will again. One small mistep dosen’t take away from all the large good he’s done and he’s made the franchise feel alive again and hopefully the MCU take on it will take after this run, as it’d be a great way to break from the endless xavier vs magneto battles of the fox universe. So yeah overall 2 great books and a thankfully short misfire, HIckman’s on top. And next time we’ll see who he picked to help him carry the x banner home to us all, and who did well with it and whose stumbled a bit as part two delves into the rest of the dawn of x. For now subscribe for more comics stuff as I plan to get back on that, including I hope a restrospective on the fox era x-men sometime soon, animation reviews, and more fun stuff. And until then, courage.

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hecohansen31 · 5 years ago

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Definitely and Officially a Groupie:

(A/N): Hello there, lovelies!

Since @codyfernmorelikedaddyfern has created her own punk-goth band I have been unable to properly sedate my inner groupie, so I had to absolutely write this, hoping that you’ll like it and the boys won’t be pissed with him (back off I got Dorian before any of you!)

Also they have an official tumblr page @fitfouraking !

Hope you’ll like it and any feedback, as always, is welcome!

WARNINGS: Mention of Sexual Stuff, Dirty Talking, Tits and Topless Discussion and Being A Groupie.

You had discovered the “Fit Four A King” through the same way they had become popular: a cover song of “Killer Queen” you had found as you were browsing hopelessly and aimlessly on YouTube.

They didn’t only have good voices and were pretty good with instruments, but they were also quite handsome and Frederick ‘Fred’ Dawson could move his hips as Freddy Mercury himself, although you couldn’t focus much on solely one boy, because as you found yourself crushing had onto one, another caught your eye.

You loved Baptiste’s confidence, the way he fucking owned the stage and was smug about it, meanwhile, on the complete opposite spectrum, you loved Dorian’s attentive sounds and the way he shrank away from any attention making him quite the mystery.

(Although you followed and maybe… stalked… the Instagram profile of his cats, and knew them all by name, alongside being able to recognize them through hundreds of thousands).

Fred was an easy-living guy, he honestly seemed the life of the party and always managed to make you laugh a bit during his interview, with some of his ‘dumb boy persona’, for example once he had been questioned about whether he liked to bring girls back on the bus or not.

‘… why would we bring girls on the bus? That’s considered kidnapping!’.

And finally there was Damian: Fred might have danced like Freddy but Damian was a rock god in itself, in the various abilities he owned (you sometimes swore that he would learn new ones just to amaze others and to sneakily present them) and the aesthetic he had build around himself, all red eyeshadows and Latin chants.

You had always frowned upon on band-obsessed girls: you certainly had had quite your share of beloved bands, but none of them had hit you like “Fit Four A King”.

They seemed to be your new obsession and when you had discovered that they would be playing in your city, you had immediately pushed one of your friends to join the concert.

‘They are fucking too scream-o for me, (Y/N)…” she had mumbled, but in the end she had accompanied you (under a good amount of blackmail, justified as ‘convincing’) and you had finally managed to see ‘Fit Four A King’ in concert and had even gotten yourself a backstage pass for a signing.

The backstage signing would be happening that afternoon, mostly because Baptiste had joked that Damian ‘was an old guy and needed his beauty sleep’, in one interview where he had also confessed everyone that Damian also slept with his head onto specific silk pillows for his hair.

(The fans who used to throw him their bras had then moved to throwing him silk pillows).

You were excited for the signing, even more than for the concert, because although you couldn’t deny that they were an awesome band and hoped they would go far in their career, you had slowly come to love them as people, through the huge mediatic involvement they had with their fans.

Still, when only a few people were before you and your friend you found yourself not knowing what to say, a bit panicking about the thought of meeting your ‘heroes’.

Should you have just stayed silent?

Or should you have just told them that they were an amazing band?

And maybe added that they had helped through your worst moments?

Would that be considering too much?

Would you have been considered a bitch for not saying anything?

Your friend had to tolerate all your bullshit with an annoyed smirk, before she suggested smirking lightly ‘why don’t you get them to sign your tits? That is some groupie shit’.

You had blushed from head to toe, and immediately shook your head, but a devilish smile had appeared onto your friend’s face and continued as only one person stood to you and the band manager asked you to come closer.

You thought you wouldn’t say anything, you would only talk if they asked, already forgetting the proper spell of your name and…

“Hey! My friend, over here, wants you to sign her tits!” your friend shouted once it was your turn and immediately you froze on your stop, simply turning around to chastise your friend with a cold look.

Certainly it wasn’t the first proposal they had received (Dorian had gotten once a g-spot stimulator ring from a fan at these events and Damian a condom, not to talk about all the used or not panties Baptiste got…) but you couldn’t help but blush, being on the shier spectrum than your friend.

But even more worried that they would kick you both out, because of such affirmation.

But the manager simply sent a look to the band and more specifically to Baptiste who in return focused his pretty eyes onto you, making you blush ardently, as you gripped tight the CD in your hands, almost breaking the plastic.

“Is that so?” Baptiste’s voice was rougher than it seemed in videos and in real life it had a warm tone that brought you to feel almost enveloped by his arms.

“… ahem… I…” you stuttered shyly, pushing away your hair from your face, meanwhile you tried to find a solution to this awful situation.

“… because I wouldn’t object to signing such a pair of awesome tits”.

Hadn’t it been Baptiste fucking O’Malley, you would have hit the guy across the face for such a phrase, but Gosh… if you weren’t feeling flattered by what he had just said.

Dorian, beside him (they always put them together in this kind of situation, since they brought out ‘the best’ out of the other), just shook his head, more to hide a light blush onto his cheeks than to actually reprimand the man.

And suddenly you couldn’t help but feel a bit high onto all those attentions that you immediately nodded eagerly, and gently lowered your shirt for them to have more space where they could sign, Baptiste immediately brightening up, as their manager laughed out loud.

And you felt a few of the girls who were behind you glaring, but in that moment you were a bit too focused on lowering your body so that Baptiste could sign it with more ease, meanwhile the other boys went to sign your CD.

“… to whom should I sign it to?” he asked with a twinkle in his eyes, meanwhile he adjusted himself onto the chair, pushing his body closer to yours, meanwhile you gave him his name and he signed it, mouthing lightly the words he was writing “… to (Y/N) keep on being an amazing babe and may this not be permanent”.

You smirked, although you were well aware that you would have to wear turtlenecks for at least a week.

(Should you have washed it off or just considered it a permanent tattoo, now that your idols had touched you?).

But it was worth it, with the way Baptiste’s fingers brushed “accidentally” against your chest, sending you lightly in overdrive.

Then you moved onto Dorian, almost sure, he wouldn’t do it, with the way he blushed and kept his head away from your chest, to avoid staring at as blatantly as Baptiste had done, meanwhile he asked what you preferred that he wrote onto your… ‘ahem chest’.

You were still high over the realization that your favorite group was giving you all that attention and you just had to suggest him to write the three names of this beloved cats, since you loved them almost more than him, making him raise his eyes at you in a joking reprimand.

‘Those three assholes honestly would scare you in a few minutes’ he retorted, as you softly tutted your tongue against your palate, smirking softly at him, definitely more at ease now that you had shown that you weren’t just some crazed groupie.

‘Maybe one day I should meet them’ you immediately thought your joke had gone too far, but he simply smirked at you, reddish cheeks but firm eyes.

‘… maybe you should’.

You were too shocked, but your feet brought you to Frederick, who smirked at you although his eyes held no sex-crazed twinkle unlike Baptiste: although he was known as one of the most transgressive of the band, he turned out to be a big dumb baby.

‘Can you draw a little lipstick mark?’ you asked him, well aware of the similar tattoo he had ‘… so that we can match’.

Your tongue was now definitely loose and Frederick rushed to do it, excusing himself for the shitty drawing, and his even shittier signature.

‘I am a guitarist, there is a reason behind that!’ he joked, meanwhile he softly pushed back his reddish hair, making you want to almost brush your hands through it, then he leaned against you to properly imprint a kiss mark, going as far as to draw his line with the mixture of lipstick he was wearing, lightly tickling you with that amazing hair.

You were brought back by the harsh way Damian grabbed your arm, his eyes and hands as frigid as he was rumored to be: a loner with a pendant for songwriting, started at such a young age in the music industry, he had become a true prodigy.

But he hadn’t wanted any of that shit.

Till he found ‘Fit Four A King’.

“Almost done, here, wouldn’t want you to catch quite a cold” he muttered but there was no true worry in his voice, just a simple teasing that brought you to immediately make yourself shy for him “… you don’t mind if I write you what I want, don’t you?”.

You immediately shook your head, no objection to whatever he would have written.

He smirked and brough the pencil onto your skin with a few rapid but precise strokes, in a way that made you completely unaware of what he had written, but you smirked and thanked him all the same, as he had an expecting smile on his face, slipping something in your CD.

But as you thanked the guys again and moved along, you couldn’t help but want to read whatever Damian had wrote on your chest, maybe a song lyric or maybe some lousy joke or some Latin chant…

But what you discovered… was definitely more interesting.

Your friend smirked as you turned to her, asking her to let you know what he had written.

“Join us on the bus after the end of the performance and we will have another signature event, just for you xoxo Damian”.

Shit, you were definitely and officially a groupie, now.

#original characters #oc #punk goth #punk band #rock band #baptiste o'malley #dorian harrison #frederick dawson #damian greene #fit four a king #Michael Langdon #Duncan Shepherd #Jim Mason #Xavier Plympton #Michael Langdon Reader #Duncan Shepherd Reader #Jim Mason Reader #Xavier Plympton Reader

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toongrrl-blog · 4 years ago

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Pink Power Rankings (Pt. 1)

Hi I am here to look at famous pink outfits in film and TV history and figure out: is pink a power color for this character? I choose to leave out obvious ones like Pink Power Ranger because, duh it’s in her name and this is gonna be a long list. Also avoiding real-life figures and onscreen depictions of real life figures because keeping it short (and I don’t have the time)

Pictured above are the bridesmaids at First Daughter Luci Baines Johnson’s wedding in the 1960s.

Mimi Tachikawa

She is the most obvious pick from Digimon and the girl most decked out in pink. To paraphrase this video from The Take: there was once a show about a strange world beyond our own, somehow a group of preteens were pulled into this world not of their accord, including a young 10 year old girl. Along with her friends they were exposed to the elements and fought monsters out to harm them, she was sexually harassed by two clearly adult digimon, uncomfortable with the elements, often had to put up with toxic masculine BS, and was often snarked at by the story and even some of her own friends for being so girly and into pink. Of course some audiences and the story were overcome with sympathy with this girl pulled away from a familiar world...

Just kidding! They weren’t and some audiences even gave her a lot of shit and this has only been recently examined. For a while Mimi Tachikawa had a problem that seemed to be well known by a lot of female characters, like Carmella Soprano, Betty and Megan Draper, Margaret Sterling, and yes Skyler White. Put a flawed, complicated woman character alongside more charismatic (and male) characters and she will be disliked (despite the audience being more likely to be she than the menfolk held up as icons).

This is sad because looking back, Mimi was truly a badass all along: she sticks up for herself, speaks up for herself, she is unapologetic about her love of pink and girly things, she is quick to tell guys when they are getting in her space, she’s honest, she lets Tanemon go on and fight with only a sincere question if she really is going to while the others hold their Digimon down, she stands up against the Numemon who were harassing her and her friends, and she was funny as hell. Sadly it took a long while for fans to grow up but many of us, especially girls, reclaimed her as our own. It also helped that Mimi came before girly icons like Elle Woods, Leslie Knope, and Joan Holloway and also before the boom in Gen X and Millennial women contributing to comedy and starting their own stand-up specials and movies and TV.

Power Ranking: 10, all because she held her own, no matter the haters and was glad to see us no matter how odd.

Karen Wheeler

Another complicated lady, this time older and from the 1980s. This is Karen Wheeler of Hawkins, Indiana whose children are off on their own adventure. She is trying to tap into her sexual power here. It’s dicey because the man in question is a young man and she is a unhappily married affluent housewife in the suburbs; she agrees to meet him at the motel for “private swimming lessons” and does herself up in a way inappropriate for swimming lessons (in Scarlet Letter Red to boot!), only to be stopped by the sight of her lazy husband sleeping on the Laz-E-Boy with their youngest child Holly on his chest. This season sees Karen open up to her two older children over the patriarchy and saying goodbye to a best friend and girlfriend after confessing his love for her.

Power Ranking: 6, because her sexual power was on shaky ground and only based on her looks and attention from a man but she shows some character development that season.

Nancy Wheeler

This look was a game changer, but Nancy is no stranger to pink and preppiness. Here she is wearing an outfit that recalls the postwar “Boyfriend Shirt” from Brooks Brothers for the female collegiate set and it’s updated with long loose but pinned hair and designer (or mock) jeans. In this outfit she goes monster hunting with her younger brother Mike’s best friend’s older brother and Nancy’s classmate, Jonathon Byers and squares off with slut-shaming police officers and a mother who chastises her for lying about her whereabouts and losing her virginity while Nancy’s best friend Barb Holland is missing and she also tells off boyfriend Steve for trying to cover his ass by not participating in the police investigation. This is the look (which can easily double as office wear) when you want to go straight from school where you have an impeccable GPA to monster hunting in your neck of the woods to find the whereabouts of your best friend and for fighting the patriarchy.

Power Ranking: 8, this is a girl on the move as we can see with her rolled up sleeves.

Eleven

The Iconic Look, the look where she made a boy wet his pants, found two missing kids, broke a bully’s arm. The Polly Flinders dress would alter the way we see girls in dainty pastel pink dresses.

Power Ranking: 10, can you do all that without touching someone?

Barb Holland

The most tragic look for this was the sweater that Barbara Holland (1967-1983) wore when she was taken by the Demogorgan and killed. This was the look where she was the recipient of a wet willie from a boy who looked down on her and her best friend who was dating his popular friend, the look where she accompanied her best friend reluctantly to the popular boy’s party, and where her friend turned her back on her concerns. This is the look of a passive and traditional (to her detriment) femininity. She did gain a huge following who cried foul over her fate.

Power Ranking: 4, points up for the fandom and devotion but she wasn’t empowered.

Erica Sinclair

That was depressing, let’s go to the girl who embodies America: Hawkins resident wise-ass, the girl who kept her observations and words as tight as her corn rows, and her planning as precise as her perfectly well done baby hairs (Black readers, feel free to correct me as I document her fabulousness), My Little Pony nerd and Economics wonk, and American Heroine. Erica sassed her way into Stranger Things with a raised eyebrow and a lusciously girly girl wardrobe that stands out and fits in with her Midwestern environment. She’s no stranger to pink and she commands attention and the best service at Scoops Ahoy and manages to get several ice cream dishes for free (the most elaborate ones) before getting in on finding the secret Soviet military base. Girlfriend manages to deal with teenage shenanigans, assassins, creatures from another world, near-death experiences, almost being captured by foreign enemies and the most awkward sing-a-long ever. She doesn’t seem to have lost her child-appropriate enthusiasm for games even when telling off old balding men for getting her age right.

Power Ranking: 10, you can’t spell America without Erica

Joan Holloway

Pink is an appropriate color for the resident femme intellectual of Sterling Cooper Draper Pryce, it shows that Joan is willing to defy “the rules” of fashion for redheads (she also wears red) and it ties into her 1950s persona of the bombshell who is trying to get married to a man who’d move her out to the upper-middle class suburbs and she wouldn��t have to work. That was Joan at the beginning: over time she started to own her natural independent streak and her willingness to buck expectations of her based on her gender and looks but also deals with the same men who ogle her, disrespecting her intellect, her hard work ethic, and even her body (fuck you Greg Harris). In this fuchsia number (still in the pink family), she sets up a luncheon with a colleague (Peggy Olson) where she pitches the idea of them setting up a production company with their names, while Peggy didn’t take, Joan starts her own “Holloway & Harris” with her babysitter and mother. Sealing her end as a strong, productive, independent woman who learned to own herself as she was.

Power Ranking: 10, men may like scarves but women like not being tethered to men.

Betty Draper Francis

Meet Elizabeth Hofstadt Francis and her ex-husband Don Draper (actually Dick Whitman), for about 10 years of marriage, they have enjoyed a union where they looked like a couple right out of a magazine, he being a square jawed handsome self-made man with an athletic build who often is compared to old-school movie stars like Tyrone Power or Clark Gable or Cary Grant and she, a beautiful model from a wealthy family in the Main Line area of Philadelphia who studied anthropology at Bryn Mawr and speaks fluent Italian and is often compared to Grace Kelly (and other Hitchcock Blondes). But the interior of their perfect colonial in the suburbs hid an ugly reality where she suffered from ennui and was a brat to her kids while he gaslighted and cheated on her with other women, more modern women, like she wasn’t enough. Eventually she found out his true identity and floored that she had been living a lie and gave up her last name for an imposter, she divorced him and married a man she met at her husband’s work function.

About three years later, Don is happily married with a younger and much more modern woman (Megan Draper) while Betty is married to a man who loves and accepts her even at her worst but to her chagrin has put on a lot of weight (a blow to a former model who grew up being raised that weight gain or being fat was the worst thing a woman could be) and she hasn’t dealt with her unhappiness in a productive manner.

For a while well into 1968, she accepted the extra pounds (although looking like she lost some) and coming middle-age and even dyed her hair black, until her new husband tells her he plans to run for office and as he was excitedly recounting what is to be done, says “Everyone will see you” not knowing that his young, vain wife would read this scenario differently and after assessing her new look to an old evening gown of her’s, she sped up her weight loss and returned to her slim and blonde look that turned heads. Soon she takes a drive to her son’s summer camp and runs into her ex-husband and they feel the old spark and sleep together; it is there she tells him that he as a lover is different than him as a husband and admits about the young wife she looked down on, “That Poor Girl, she doesn’t know that loving you is the worst thing to get to you”. Next morning she has breakfast with her new husband, who is none the wiser, while Don heads back to the city. But is Betty really happy?

Power Ranking: 7, not satisfied but has received some closure about her relationship with her ex-husband.

Sally Draper

This is Sally in her birthday party dress. On that day her father built her a pastel colored playhouse, Mother prepared treats for the adults and kids for her birthday party, she and her friends played out their parents’ (admittedly shitty) marriages at the playhouse, her father goes out to get her birthday cake from the bakery and returns only with a golden retriever named Polly, while her unhappy mother fumes about her husband doing something shitty and humiliating and not being allowed to ream him out because he brought a dog and that makes him the good guy.

Power Ranking: 5, she gets a dog but is still young and dependent on her messy parents.

Rachel Menken

Meet Rachel Menken Katz, running into her ex Don Draper while he is out with his latest mistress and she with her husband Tilden Katz. She would end this series as dying from cancer after having two young children and running her father’s department store and instead of flowers, requesting that donations be made for a Jewish hospital in the Jell-O Belt. In 1960 she fell in love with an ad man who proved to have been miserable and having lost his mother during his birth, as she did, she also competed in what was called “a man’s world” at a time when women were relegated to assistant roles at best and she split from him when he wants to run away with her, mostly because he wants to run away from his issues and not because of his feelings for her. As her sister Barbara said, “she had everything”.

Power Ranking: 8, she ends up dying young but she manages to “have it all”.

Megan Draper

Meet Megan Calvet, later to become Megan Draper. How does she become the next Mrs. Draper? At this timeline, Don Draper is dealing with life after divorcing Betty Draper (now Francis) and is trying (and failing) to quit alcohol and trying to date the intelligent, warm, no-nonsense, and close-to-his-age Dr. Faye Miller. But that night Megan, who noticed she caught her boss’s eye, decides to make the moves and in a uncharacteristically demure (many fans thought she looked frumpy here) but at worst basic outfit, she sleeps with him. This is the outfit for a quickie that later won his heart and has him pop the question and she becomes part of Creative at their work. But is this really for the best?

Power Ranking: 7, she married Don Draper but then again she married Don Draper.

Peggy Olson

Meet Peggy Olson, who officially walked away from the things holding her back from feeling at ease with herself and her choices. After a whole season where the priest impressed by her skills has learned that Peggy had a child out of wedlock and put him up for adoption and starts pressuring her to admit her “sin” while Peggy would rather move on with her life, she tells him they don’t see eye to eye and walks away from the Catholic Church and while the Cuban Missile Crisis is going on, she lays down in her bed with the pink comforter and pillows with her pink floral nightgown, she lays herself down to sleep and prays with a contented look on her face.

Power Ranking: 9, she’s not fully absolved of the issues plaguing her but refusing to wear a hairshirt and beat herself up? Awesome.

Dawn Chambers

Meet Dawn Chambers, from 1966-1968, she was the only black person (let alone black secretary) at the uber-white Sterling Cooper Draper Pryce (pun intended for the decor) and like many minorities in positions occupied by less marginalized people, Dawn had to keep her head low and not stand out (despite some co-workers considering her as remarkable as a sore thumb). But then in 1968, she made the mistake of punching in for a co-worker and they get caught by Joan Holloway (and it’s so horrid, thank God Don Draper intervened on Dawn’s behalf and Pete reminds them of how the ad agencies are being looked at for their minority quotas). This was also the season where Dawn took to wearing blazers over her blouses and skirts or dresses and here Dawn is wearing a conservative grey blazer over a pink shirt with ruffles down the front and a red plaid skirt when her work life alters for the...better? It is there that Joan sternly gives her the promotion of keeper of the keys, title not pay, and Dawn tells her that she decided she doesn’t care whether other people in the office hate her but she doesn’t want to disappoint Joan, who withholds any warmth or approval. The next season we see Dawn stand up to a entitled and mediocre white man (Lou Avery) and first she is moved to reception and then she takes over Joan’s post as Office Manager (With her own office! And the salary!) while Joan goes upstairs to her own office in Accounts.

Power Ranking: 10, this is a big fucking deal for a Black Woman in a mostly-White corporate setting during the 1960s.

Trudy Campbell

1970, Trudy Vogel Campbell has remarried her estranged husband Pete and they are moving out to Wichita, Kansas with their young daughter Tammy where he will work a plush job for Lear Jet (and they are being flown out by them!).

For the past ten years, Trudy and Pete have had a difficult marriage where he was dissatisfied with the choices he made and that he really didn’t want to marry her, and Trudy had to deal with being a woman with fertility issues at a time when motherhood was seen as a primary goal for women and women who didn’t have kids or chose not to were seen as weird at best. They had to deal with pressure from her father to adopt, his parents snotty issues, she had to deal with her husband’s attitude, his envy of others, and his cheating. But Trudy laid her boundaries and was able to stand up to her husband, without losing her gracious manner and her zest for society. She tried to be a supportive wife and she found some common ground with him, when it comes to common decency and politics, and they make an amazing pair on the dance floor.

Then came the end after their divorce: they behave more amicably, he’s more involved with their young daughter, he fights for Trudy, and he gives an amazing pitch for her to come back. She takes him back but lets him know that she isn’t the same girl he married a decade before and she looks at things for how they are.

Plus she is gonna rule Wichita!

Power Ranking: 8, she accepts there will be compromises but states her boundaries and has them met and will be a society wife.

Elle Woods

Who shows up in court in LA hot sandals, a pink tote bag for her canine companion Bruiser, long glossy hair, and a curve-hugging but professional power dress in shocking pink? Elle Woods. After trying hard to be taken seriously by her fuckboi ex Warner and her snotty, neutral toned Harvard classmates and learning that her Professor got her in an internship for a important lawcase (where they defend her fellow Sorority Sister) just for her looks, she leans into both her natural intelligence, expertise, and love of pink and all things girly to defend her friend and solve the case.

Also can we talk about how both Legally Blonde and Bridget Jones’s Diary are both movies where the attractive blonde protagonist is humiliated by showing up for a costume party in a Playboy Bunny costume under false pretenses and she deals with sexual harassment and being underestimated regarding her intellect? But LB ages better because it kinda pokes fun at the beauty myth more and is more inter-sectional and Elle finds supportive women to add to her posse of supportive sisters and she supports other women in turn.

Power Ranking: 10, Sisterhood and owning your personality quirks and interests and boldly defending others is always a win. Case Dismissed.

Lorelei Lee

The ultimate Pink Power icon and the one who set the path for all femme-y and cute loving blonde protagonists with wit and ambition. This is the song for a woman who sings about how transactional heteronormative relationships in the mid-century were and how the performative actions of men in heterosexual relationships don’t do much to improve women’s lives, like paying the rent and that they would use women for their own uses and could be shallow enough to dump women if they lost their beauty and/or got older, so for insurance make sure you get money or rather things that can be hocked and worn with pride, like diamonds. Tom & Lorenzo covered this in their One Iconic Look series and this sequenced has been spoofed several times in Hey Arnold!, Crazy-Ex Girlfriend, Birds of Prey, and most famously by Madonna, and it is the look for women who not only feel good about their curves but also want to show them off. As T&Lo said about the ditzy Lorelai and her savvier friend Dorothy Malone (Jane Russell):

These women were all about power, control, and looking out for each other. Men were side stories or play things.

And in the repressive Fifties it was outrageously pink and smelt of female sexual power (pink pussies).

Power Ranking: 11, hawwwwwwww that’s what you get for having an iconic and referenced look!

Marge Simpson

The most nostalgically remembered outfit in cartoons and the most written about in think pieces and articles by Millennial women who grew up watching The Simpsons and the rest of what the Animation Renaissance had to offer. In “Scenes from the Class Struggle in Springfield”, the family goes out to the outlet mall in Ogdenville where Marge and Lisa happen upon a beautiful pink Chanel suit that even left my cartoon-apathetic mother enthusiastic and Marge is soon seen by a old high school friend who mistakes her for being wealthy and Marge goes along with the ruse and is invited to Country Club activities with the ladies where she shows up in several talented alterations of her suit (until getting destroyed by Santa’s Little Helper, RIP Iconic suit), she also gives her family a hard time about how they don’t fit into that Country Club Scene and then when forced to see how she hurt them (and even Baby Maggie), turns around and tells them she loves Homer’s sense of humor, Lisa’s compassion and outspoken human rights politics, and just loves Bart (even if she can’t figure what she likes about him).

This also happens to be another instance where Marge sacrifices a social life (she’s not seen with a lot of friends who have her back, aside from a brief time with Ruth Powers), chances for social mobility, and her own self-improvement for her family. While we love a mother who prioritizes her family’s autonomy, we still kind of hope that she didn’t have to sacrifice her own identity for her family.

Power Ranking: 8, points for the iconic suit and it’s layered meanings.

Bridget Jones

A rare move of power for a normally powerless and insecure woman and in a shocking pink blouse and black slacks that show off her hourglass curves and go with her coloring.

Pink is not a color Bridget isn’t familiar with, especially with this deleted scene that shows her in Pink Passivity (and it looks delicate on a blonde with blue eyes and pale skin but could risk her fading but I as a brunette would look popping!). But here after entering a relationship with Daniel Cleaver (who is a walking red flag) and finding out he was keeping her as his side-ho to his skinny, bitchy American girlfriend and colleague and I have my problems with Bridget Jones as a series (which would take several parts) and I can talk about how Peggy Olson and Joan Holloway were a lot better written versions of her (klutziness and awkwardness but succeeding!). But this is a huge power move where Bridget wears a simple outfit that owns her looks (even being affirmed by a older and previously antagonistic co-worker that she’s actually thinner than the average woman and she can’t back down, like ever) and is able to quit her job for a better and more glamorous job and tell off her ex-boyfriend for how poorly he has treated her. And all her co-workers smile off as she walks off in triumph after telling Daniel she’d rather wipe Saddam Hussein’s ass. I kinda wish I could go Joan Rivers on Daniel here.

Also points on that bolder shade of pink.

Power Ranking: 10, no one gets to burn a cheating, manipulative bridge like that (and yes she is conventionally prettier than I but that’s not the point).

Alice Macray

I know, I should shut my mouth and wear beige but my personal color analysis says I’m a winter person.

It’s an interesting power move, albeit within the confines of patriarchal society and even the only defiance that wouldn’t get her tsked at because she is serving the Male Gaze. And yet it’s a natural part of her characterization in this part of the series: the traditional housewife stubbornly keeping her pedestal and fighting to stall progress for other women pursuing other paths (part of wearing beige and shutting up as Mother of the Groom is to allow the Bride to take center stage) but it’s also a path she had to take what with being a dyslexic in a less informed and intolerant era and growing up in a sheltered, conservative Catholic family. This is also the outfit she wears when she spots a younger wife being forcibly yanked by her husband, alluding that the patriarchy isn’t benevolent.

This isn’t her first time in pink, or even a pink and blue combination: she wears pink when she goes and gives out bread to defeat the feminists at the Illinois Legislature, she wears pink and blue when Bella Abzug calls on her and her peers’ hypocrisy, she drinks a Pink Lady when she is given a “Christian Pill” and it matches her lavender dress. It’s also ironic: pink, white, and blue are the colors of the Transgender pride flag and she is defending White Heternormative Cisnormative Christian Values TM and it’s also a color combo that shows up in the beauty parlor she frequents where she and her friends wring their hands over working women gaining more ground and feeling that their comfortable privilege is being taken away by women who sully their hands working outside the home while they stay home with their children in their coordinated pastels and have maids of color keep their worlds nice and orderly.

But she is wearing a pink maxi dress with a high neckline and a very prominent hat that provides very ladylike shade for her fair skin, just like our first Pink Power Girl Mimi Tachikawa, and like Mimi, Alice will take a life-altering short trip to Wonderland. And like Pink Power Girl Eleven, she finds her true hidden power and starts wearing more saturated colors as time goes on.

Power Ranking: 5, she is on her way to breaking out of her little safe world and doing more than subverting a wedding tradition.

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gascon-en-exil · 5 years ago

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Joining the Game Late: S3E5 “Kissed by Fire”

Synopsis

The Hound fights the leader of the Brotherhood who’s got a +fire damage enchant on his sword and a bard with a resurrection spell on hand. Tormund and Jon do some heated staring, so Ygritte makes sure she’s still relevant by deflowering Jon. Roose Bolton screws with Jaime, but at least he and Brienne get a bath out of it. Olenna reminds Tyrion of the Tyrells’ generosity. Gendry and Arya have a thing, and then she talks about video game resurrection rules. The Karstarks take their vengeance, then Robb takes his. The Lord of Light takes all the fun out of adultery, but Stannis’s family hasn’t got much fun to begin with. Jaime monologues a flashback to his most infamous moment, followed by some significant cuts screaming “Targaryens are mad conquerors!” at the audience. Grey Worm of the Unsullied proves my point, while Jorah and Barristan swap war stories and political opinions. Robb has a plan, and it is going to go very badly. Surprise gay sex, courtesy of Littlefinger (still no dick though). Tywin is putting both his present children on the marriage market.

Commentary

The most profound moment of this episode to me - and no it’s not the gay sex or the gay UST, but put a pin in those for later - comes not so much from any single scene as a succession of three superficially unrelated scenes in the middle. First Jaime takes a bath with Brienne and shares with her his perspective on the event that saddled him with the title of Kingslayer, then Stannis’s daughter visits Davos in prison and brings him a book, and lastly Daenerys is on the move as Jorah and Barristan have a dialogue about the qualities of the leaders they’ve served. While each of these scenes accomplish their characterization and relationship development aims in isolation, the common thread joining them together is the legacy of Targaryen conquest and madness. We learn from Jaime that Aerys was willing to burn everyone in King’s Landing alive, then there’s a cut to Shireen’s gift of a book on Aegon’s conquest to a man imprisoned in the old Targaryen stronghold of Dragonstone, and finally we cut to the heir of that legacy with her army marching towards a new conquest. Had I not known beforehand how this is all going to end with Daenerys I probably wouldn’t have picked up on that subtle through line, but it’s there and underscoring again that she’s not entirely the heroic liberator she appears to be on the surface. That reading exists somewhat on the surface level too - the Unsullied are indeed not going to adjust easily to life as free men, and Jorah’s absolute vote of confidence in Dany when Barristan asks him is colored by the audience’s knowledge that he wants to sleep with her - but the connection punches hard. That it also incorporates a fantastic monologue by Jaime that replaces what probably would have been a less effective and more expensive flashback scene as well as a sweet moment for Davos that caps off the other unsettling scenes of Stannis’s family are makes it all the more excellent.

I’m still waiting to see where Arya’s story goes, because for now the most I’ve got is that the Lord of Light (who is worshiped by people in Westeros other than Melisandre’s followers, apparently?) gives you DnD cleric powers. I know where Robb is going, symbolic callbacks to his father and retributive cycles of violence and all, but at the moment it feels a bit stuck in the middle. Putting those aside, let’s get back to that gay sex. The Jon/Tormund moment is emotionally charged but leads instead to the sex scene that we’ve been waiting on ever since Ygritte first appeared, and I’ve not much to say about that except snark that for as sexually adventurous as she claims the wildlings are they’ve seemingly never heard of cunnilingus. The serious M/M moment this episode occurs between Loras and Olyvar, a squire revealed immediately afterward to be one of Littlefinger’s spies and presumably a prostitute. I’ve read that this character is original to the show and that in the books Loras remains faithful to Renly’s memory, and I’m of two minds about that. It’s obviously a hard *snickers* pill to swallow for Loras/Renly shippers, but conversely it’s entirely in the nature of the Tyrells and, speaking from personal experience, the French they loosely represent to pursue other lovers after one has died or been otherwise lost. Besides, I can think of another instance in contemporary fantasy fiction of a gay man (this one an Anglo) who committed himself to a life of celibacy after his one romantic relationship turned sour, and a bunch of the fandom was pissed off at what it said about the author’s stance on homosexuality and how she appeared to be using the reveal mostly for retroactive recognition. Ahem. In any case, I welcome this development especially if it leads to some more gay sex scenes, but I really hope they aren’t as tame as this one. Why the hell is Loras still wearing pants when he looks primed to bottom (again?)!? In the month since I started binging this show I’ve seen more breasts and vaginas than I’ve ever had or wanted to see in my entire life, and this is how you make it up to me, GoT?

Oh, and totally random, but how creepy is it that Stannis’s wife keeps their stillborn children preserved in jars in her room? That’s worse than this rather loopy religion teacher I had in high school who had named and separately buried his wife’s multiple stillbirths and even listed them alongside his living children when asked how many he had. At least infant mortality rates today are low enough to where one might theoretically develop an emotional attachment to a fetus, but in this universe?

#Game of Thrones #GoT

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pengychan · 5 years ago

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[Coco] Mind the Gap, Pt. 14

Title: Mind the Gap Summary: Modern Day AU. Tired of Ernesto’s snide remarks, Imelda decides to put him in his place and her husband is more than happy to help. It was supposed to be a one-night deal. Things quickly get out of hand. [OT3, mostly porn and humor. Plenty of instances of Ernesto being Dramatic, Imelda getting Sick Of His Shit, and Héctor trying to be the peacekeeper. Don’t expect anything serious.] Pairings: Ernesto/Héctor/Imelda Rating: Explicit.

Art by Dara.

[All chapters are tagged as ‘mind the gap’ on my blog.]

A/N: Aaaand shit hits the fan. You knew it was coming.

***

“I honestly cannot figure out if they’re dancing or fighting.”

“A bit of both, really. Brings out their best, through. You know, makes it more, er… passionate?”

“Oh, it does,” Armando agrees, staring at the scene through the glass. “Absolutely.”

Héctor smiles a little and follows his gaze. In the next room over, Imelda and Ernesto are singing - more to keep the tempo than for any other reason, they already recorded their cover of La Llorona with Héctor playing and that will be the audio - and dancing in front of a green screen, several cameras recording every move. Ernesto looks dashing in his best white charro and oh, Imelda is a dream in purple.

It was Armando’s idea to involve her in the music video, really, soon after the three of them had recorded the cover. He hadn’t been so keen on the idea of having Imelda sing with them as a guest - he had a couple of big names in mind - but after listening to the less-than-professional recording Héctor had on his phone, he was willing to give it a chance... and loved the result.

Truth be told, convincing Imelda to star in the video as well wasn’t easy; she was uncomfortable at the idea and honestly, Héctor was ready to drop it at the first ‘no’. Ernesto seemingly dropped it as well, but made a few sly remarks on how he couldn’t blame her for being worried she couldn’t keep up with him and his dancing.

Which gained him, of course, a raised eyebrow from Imelda.

“You do realize, I hope, that this attempt at goading me into it is about as transparent as it gets.”

“Is it working?” Ernesto asked, only for her to roll her eyes.

“No. I have no interest in humiliating you in front of your agent.”

“Oh?”

“You’re the one who wouldn’t be able to keep up.”

“Then prove it.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Chickening out, I see.”

“This isn’t going to work.”

“So you’re just going to pass on a chance to show me up in front of our manager?”

“...”

And… that was it, really, and here they are now, going through the routine time and time again, each refusing to give ground and dancing at their absolute best. It is the last thing that still needs doing - everything else is done, their debut album ready - and Armando wants to wrap up the filming within the day. If Ernesto and Imelda keep going like this, which Héctor is fairly sure they will do, they’re going to be exhausted by evening, but that’s not going to be a problem.

Héctor will very gladly take care of both of them.

***

“Don’t tell me you’re tired, Ernesto.”

“Absolutely not. Are you?”

“Not at all.”

Héctor bites his lower lip not to laugh at the conversation, which they’re carrying out sprawled at the opposite ends of the couch in a way that belies their words - both of them laying back, boneless and so obviously, utterly exhausted. Ernesto’s hair is dishevelled, whatever product he put on it clearly having given in, while Imelda’s hair is loose on her shoulders in dark waves. Even tired, she is beautiful. Ernesto is… not quite as much, but Héctor doesn’t mention it.

Instead, he grins and picks up his guitar. “So, who’s up for another round?” he asks, and barely ducks under two pillows thrown at him at the exact same time. Dante leaps to catch one, only to miss and crash against a chair while Pepita takes possession of it, to sit on it with the dignity of a queen. The other pillow is snatched by the Chihuahua pack; it takes all of them to carry it across the room, and they disappear beneath an armchair.

Normally, Imelda wouldn’t tolerate any pets but Pepita to take possession of those pillows; now, she seems very much beyond caring. As for Ernesto, he really never gave a damn.

“... I take it we’re not going out to celebrate wrapping this up?” Héctor pushes his luck again.

“No,” Imelda drones just as Ernesto mutters, “Tomorrow.”

Héctor’s grin widens. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you’re tired-- ouch!” He yelps, in surprise rather than pain, when something - Imelda’s slipper - smacks against his thigh.

Still sprawled on the other end of the couch, Ernesto nods. “Good shot.”

“Thanks. And I have another one.”

“Just kidding, just kidding!” Héctor protests with a laugh, holding the guitar up and almost hiding behind it. “But there is a fun activity I can suggest. One where I do all the work!” he almost shrieks when Imelda’s hand reaches for her other slipper.

The hand pauses in mid-air, and her eyebrows go up. “All the work?”

“Yes!”

She glances at Ernesto. He tilts his head. “Am I included in the fun activity?”

“Oh, like you would accept any answer but yes,” Héctor laughs, finally putting down the guitar. “All right, step one - you get your clothes off.”

“That sounds like work to me.”

“And you said you’d be doing all of it.”

“Ay, since when are you so laz--” Héctor ducks suddenly, and Imelda’s remaining slipper through the air. He jumps aside, and gives a victory grito. “Hah! Missed-- ouch! Ow! Seriously?”

Now missing a shoe, Ernesto gives him a satisfied smirk. “My aim is better,” he tells Imelda.

“I didn’t go for the head,” she points out.

“See, that’s the problem. You don’t aim high enough.”

Héctor rolls his eyes. “... Is either of you interested in what I’m suggesting?”

As it turns out they are very, very interested. But also very, very tired.

Half an hour later, buried beneath their snoozing forms - they stayed awake through the process of taking off their clothes and getting to the bedroom, but not much longer - Héctor sighs, trying to will his erection into going away, as he’s clearly not getting to use it at all tonight.

Ah well, there will be time to make up for it in the morning. Then maybe they’ll go out for a late breakfast someplace fancy, to celebrate the fact the album is done - their first step into proper stardom, as Ernesto calls it. Not that stardom matters much to Héctor, but it will be nice to have some extra income. So that Imelda can get a proper shop soon, and maybe they can start thinking… maybe…

Above him, Ernesto shifts sleepily and yawns. Héctor finds himself yawning as well, and the thought stays incomplete. He shuts his eyes, smiles at the tickle of Imelda’s breath against his neck, and lets sleep claim him as well. The future may hold a lot for them as Ernesto says but, for now, Héctor is happy to simply enjoy the present as long as it lasts.

It doesn’t last.

***

“Mierda.”

That is far from the most original thing to say; probably the very same word countless women found themselves uttering in various languages in the privacy of their bathroom, staring at two small lines on a pregnancy test stick - but at the moment, Imelda is unable to think of anything else to say. She can only lean back, heart in her throat, trying to think through the buzzing sound suddenly filling her ears.

No. No, no, no, no, no. It can’t be - it just cannot be - she’s on the pill, has been taking it religiously for the past several years, every day at the same time without fail. And she was lucky, too, never had any complications or side effects. Take the pill every day, stop a few days - cue period - and then on with the pill again. Nothing has ever gone wrong… until now.

Because she stopped taking it as usual, and there was no period to speak of. She tried not to worry, because sometimes human bodies are odd like that, and picked up the pregnancy test as an afterthought, thinking a negative result it would give her some peace of mind before she booked an appointment with her doctor to figure out if she needed to change brand of birth control.

Looks like I’ll have to call her for entirely different reasons.

Despite the voice in the back of her mind telling her that pregnancy tests are not infallible, Imelda can feel panic beginning to tighten her throat - because she knows that neither is birth control. But the pill is supposed to be effective in… over ninety-nine percent of cases. It worked until now, how can this be happening? What has changed in the past month? She can think of nothing, no big changes other than adopting a hyperactive and particularly stupid stray dog, full of ticks and with an infection--

… Wait. Wait just a moment.

Mind in turmoil, Imelda stands and throws open the medicine cabinet. There are some blisters of painkillers ‘just in case’, disinfectant, bandaids, some tampons, hair products she had told Ernesto to store somewhere else - and something else, the open box of the medication they all had to take after taking in Dante to find out he had a contagious fungal infection. Imelda tears it out of the cabined, pulls out the instruction booklet, and reads through it.

As it turns out, she should have done it much earlier.

Caution: when taken alongside birth control pills, it reduces the level of the hormone--

The booklet falls off Imelda’s fingers, floating slowly down on the tiles. She stares down at it for a few moments, then a few minutes, her ears buzzing. Now she knows what went wrong; later, once she shock has worn off, she will kick herself for being so careless. But right now, the one big question in her mind is what is she going to do about it.

It shouldn’t make her feel gutted. She and Héctor do want children; they agreed to wait until her business properly took off - and it has - and he got a foot firmly in the music industry - and he just did. This is... earlier than they planned, but it is what they wanted.

Except that, when they made plans, Ernesto was not yet in the picture. Not the way he is now.

At least… yes, at least there isn’t the issue of not knowing who the father is; in all the nights they have spent together, Ernesto has never been in her. At first because she didn’t want him to be - she considered that something for her husband only - and then… it had simply not happened. It almost did last week after they finally went out to celebrate the wrapping up of the album and oh, thank God, thank God he was too tipsy for it.

The father is Héctor, it can only be him, and it spares her the ordeal of not knowing and all the mess that would come out of it - because what would they even do, if it was Ernesto’s? Tell the truth, and force a child to deal with the stigma for the arrangement the three of them were in? They could decided to lie about it, pretend otherwise, but what if the truth got out? What if the child grew up to look far too much like their good family friend? Someone would find out, and… ah, she can’t imagine anything good coming out of it. It is a relief to know it will never happen.

But along with the relief, there is a burning sense of shame. Did she truly nearly get herself in the position of getting pregnant without even being certain who the father would be? That was… irresponsible of her. It had been meant to be a one-night deal, but it got well out of control and now it’s been… God, almost a year. How could she let it get this far?

Much, much too far. It cannot continue.

No, it really cannot, with a baby on the way. She will be a mother, Héctor will be a father, and Ernesto… he needs to be only a family friend again. She won’t object to Héctor and him being something more than that, as long as it is done discreetly and away from their home, but the three of them sharing a bed… that needs to end. The third wheel - she ignores the thought that Ernesto has come to be more than that, she must, if she’s to carry this out - needs to come off.

It would be far too dangerous with a child at home, asking questions. A child who would take the fall if word got out that their mother and father share a bed with another man, because it would be delusional to think their arrangement would simply be quietly accepted. Imelda could face the disapproval with her head held high if need be, but how could she ask that of a child? What kind of mother would let that happen?

It had to end, eventually. He’ll understand, he must. It is for the best. For everyone’s sake.

By the time she leaves the bathroom, the positive pregnancy test in her hand, Imelda has her mind made up. It hurts more than she ever thought it possibly might - a dull ache in her chest - but that’s not relevant right now. There is a baby coming, and she needs to do the right thing.

Even if Ernesto doesn’t agree, he must come to accept it. He’ll bounce back, Imelda tells herself, and she can believe that. Maybe she’s overestimating how attached Ernesto actually got. He’ll probably go back to his flings and one-night stands, if those ever really did stop.

Maybe he’ll throw a tantrum, as he often does when he doesn’t get his way, but she’s sure he’ll eventually be glad to have bailed out once the realities and responsibilities of having a child in the house become clear; he’ll mock them over the lack of nights out as he used to do only last year. She’ll get annoyed, and he’ll laugh it off. Like old times - arguably better than old times, because she refuses to think the understanding they have reached can simply vanish like that.

He’ll still be welcome in their home, just not in their bedroom. If she and Héctor are to be parents, it is time to put childish things behind them. She understands that and, she’s sure, so will her husband. Anyone with an ounce of common sense would see it is the only way forward.

“Héctor.”

Her voice is flat when she calls out, still somewhat numb, from the door of the living room. It causes Héctor - who is sprawled on the couch, song book in his hands and a foot braced against Dante to keep him from taking over - to look up, a pen in his mouth and another behind his ear. The one in his mouth falls off when he sees her expression and opens his mouth to speak; the other is dislodged when he sits up, putting the songbook aside.

“Imelda? What is it? Are you all right?” he asks, concern plain in her voice. Imelda draws in a deep breath, grip on the positive test tightening, and speaks quietly.

“We need to talk.”

***

“We need to talk.”

Héctor hears Imelda’s words through the loud blaring of an alarm. Or at least, that’s what it feels like: ‘we need to talk’ is very firmly among the top ten sentences that can make people question their every life choice, from the womb up to the second those words reach their ears.

We need to talk.

All right, all right. Time to keep his cool. Maybe he did something wrong - he probably did something wrong - and now they will talk it through. It is all right. Time to act as any reasonable adult would. Or not.

Nuh-uh, no. Nope. Nope nope nope. Abort mission, abort, abort.

“Great! We will! Soon! Soon-ish,” Héctor blurts out, and goes to grab his guitar, which is resting against the wall. His panicked brain fails to pick up the fact he’s holding it sideways. “I just thought up a song - I mean, I was thinking up a song - the words are giving me some trouble but I got most of the melody down, want to hear--”

“Héctor,” Imelda speaks up, putting a hand on the guitar. She looks… ay, she looks pale, and Héctor’s dumb panic immediately turns into concern. He puts down the guitar, almost dropping it on the only part of the couch not occupied by Dante, and cups her cheek.

“What… what is it? Are you feeling ill?”

“No, I--”

“Do you need to see a doctor?”

“Possibly later, but--”

Héctor’s brain somehow freezes and starts working twice the normal speed, simultaneously. The result is that he only gets stupid thoughts, but in much quicker succession than normal. She’s seriously ill, she has cancer, she’s the calmest person ever to experience a heart attack and oh God when was last time either of them did a full health check-up?

“Oh my God, you’re ill!”

“No!”

“You’re pale!”

“Héctor--”

“You said we need to talk, and you were using That Voice, it has got to be something serious!”

“Well, it is something serious--”

“I’ll call an ambulance!”

“No, you will not-- Héctor, put the phone down-- por Dios-- I’m pregnant, Héctor!”

Héctor’s neurological functions skid to to nearly a full stop, leaving enough electrical activity to keep him breathing, but just barely. He stammers. He drops the phone. He stares. His brains sputters back into activity.

“Pregnant,” he repeats, as though trying out a foreign word. Imelda bites her lower lip, nods, and holds up something - a stick. A pregnancy test with two tiny lines showing on the screen. Héctor blinks at it. “... How?”

That gains him a look that’s somewhere between stunned, pitying, and ‘oh God who did I marry’. “... The usual way?”

Ah. Right. That was… no, wait. It wasn’t that stupid a question, she’s supposed to be on the pill, and-- and--

I’m going to be a papá.

The realization hits him like a ton of bricks, kickstarting his brain into a semi-functional status again. He blinks at her, his face beginning to open up in what’s probably the biggest, dumbest smile since… their wedding, maybe. Probably since ever.

“A baby? You’re having a baby? We’re having a baby?”

Imelda seems to hesitate a moment, then her own expression opens up in a smile. It is somewhat tentative, but there is no mistaking the sheer joy of it; it’s like it occurred to her just now that she ought to be, and is, happy. “Sí. We’re having a baby.”

Héctor’s grito is loud enough to make Pepita shoot from the chair she was napping to the ceiling, while Dante flops off the couch with a yelp and runs to hide under a table. Imelda may also be trying to say something about her eardrums, but it’s lost in gales of laughter when he grabs her, kisses her, and twirls her around - improvising a silly, very uncoordinated dance across their living room.

Imelda laughs, too; she kisses him back, throws her arms around his neck, dances with him as he sings - “What color's the sky? ¡Ay mi amor, ay mi amor!” - and eventually they both stumble back on the couch, laughing, holding onto each other as the notion sinks in that they’re going to be parents.

It’s... a little earlier than they imagined it would happen, but it’s all right. They can make it work, Héctor knows they will, and-- ah, he can’t wait. He only just knew they have a baby on the way and he can’t wait to meet them.

“Imagine your parents’ face when we tell them-- and your brothers-- they're going to be tíos!”

“And they’ll never get to be in the same room as the baby unsupervised,” Imelda mutters, with a slightly exaggerated shudder of fake horror. Well, maybe not entirely fake.

Héctor laughs again, as though drunk on happiness, ignoring the brief stab of sadness at the thought that their baby will only have one set of grandparents. And no tíos from his side, since he never had siblings and-- ah, what is he thinking? Ernesto is going to be their tío, of course, they grew up together, it’s only fair.

“Wait until I tell Ernesto!” he exclaims, wishing the cabrón hadn’t chosen that day of all days to go get his nails done; if he were home, he’d be running downstairs in minutes to pound at his door and tell him the news. “I fully expect him to be the godfather! And to try and not hog all the attention at the christening, if he can manage-- are we doing that in Santa Cecilia? I think it would be nice, but Ernesto never wants to go back, so maybe--”

“Héctor.” Imelda’s hand is light on his cheek, her voice quiet, and Héctor knows something is amiss before he glances at her, at her somber expression. But this time, there is no panic: just the quiet realization of where this is going. “This is what we need to talk about. Ernesto,” she says, taking his hand. She looks saddened, but resolute. “... We’re having a baby. A child to raise. This-- the arrangement has to end.”

Oh. There is a stab of something in his chest, the kind of ache that comes with the realization that something good - something wonderful - has to come to an end, and sooner than planned. But Imelda is right, as she usually is; a child is going to change everything. A child in the house is going to change everything, and it’s their responsibility to make… adjustments. She can see that, he can see that… and he hopes that so will Ernesto.

“He will understand,” Héctor says through a lump in his throat. But it hurts, and his words sound unconvincing to his own ears.

For all the talents Ernesto has, knowing when to step aside was never one of them.

***

Something is… wrong.

It takes a while for Ernesto to notice, really, because throughout the dinner he’s rather busy talking - about the album, about future projects, about the new guitar he wants to buy, about himself in general because he does find himself to be a very interesting subject. They’re halfway through the main course when he realizes he’s not getting interrupted nearly as often as usual; by the time the waiter brings in the desserts, he finally notices the nervous glances they’re exchanging. Or at least, Héctor looks nervous; Imelda just seems to be… bracing herself.

Something is not right, Ernesto thinks, only moments before Héctor clears his throat.

“So, uh…” he manages a smile that is, at the same time, delighted and absolutely unconvincing. “Imelda and I have-- we have news.” He puts a hand down on the table, palm up, and Imelda grasps it with her own.

Later on, that is something that will keep coming back to mock him through sleepless, lonely nights: those joined hands, the way the fingers intertwine, how perfectly they fit. How complete they are, without him. But right now, it just unnerves him slightly; he looks up from their joined hands to meet Héctor’s gaze, confused more than alarmed.

“News?”

A nod, and the smile becomes a less forced, brighter. By his side, Imelda is expressionless as a sphynx. “We’re having a baby,” Héctor says, and grips Imelda’s hand tighter.

Ernesto stares. Blinks. Opens his mouth, closes it again, opens it once more. “... What?”

Another squeeze of Imelda’s hand, but Ernesto doesn’t notice: he can only stare at Héctor’s, too stunned for words, as he swallows and speaks again.

“Imelda is pregnant. We’re going to be parents.” The smile again, more tentative, more anxious. Ernesto’s eyes shift to Imelda, who remains expressionless. She is trying to keep control over the situation; Ernesto takes it as cold indifference as she nods and speaks, her voice calm, her words measured.

“... I am.”

Ernesto’s head spins a little. This is… bad. A kid would change everything and he doesn’t want things to change. “But how-- I mean-- I thought you were…?”

“I was on the pill, but some medication... interfered. I am five weeks in.”

“Five weeks,” Ernesto repeats, and there is some relief in his voice. Five weeks is still early enough for it to be taken care of - it would be a nightmare in Santa Cecilia, but in Mexico City? It can be done. He opens his mouth to say it aloud, but Imelda seems to have read his mind.

“We do want this baby, Ernesto.” Her voice is just a little more forceful, and again Ernesto is briefly stunned into silence. She sighs. “We always wanted children, you know that. This only comes… a little earlier than planned.”

Ernesto blinks, and turns to look at Héctor. He looks saddened, and it hits him suddenly - he knows where this is going. This is it, then - he’s getting the family he’s always wanted, they both are, and Ernesto is… no longer needed. He shakes his head, acutely aware of the fact he can’t say too much or too loudly, being in a restaurant and all. Only later, in hindsight, will he realize they told him in a restaurant to keep him from making a scene.

“Wait, wait-- what about--” what about me? “What about-- us?”

Héctor swallows. “You are still my best friend,” he says, and tries to reach across the table to put a hand on Ernesto’s arm, but he pulls back with a scoff.

“Oh, so that’s it? It’s over, just like that?”

Imelda shakes her head. “You and Héctor-- I won’t mind. But not at home, and… not with me.”

Is she serious? Does she really think it is enough-- that he will just-- Christ, does she feel anything about it at all? She may as well be made of ice, and Ernesto clenches his teeth, fury burning in his chest. He’s so angry, all of a sudden; at her for not caring, at himself for giving a damn that she doesn’t care, and at Héctor for just taking her side.

Of course he’d take her side. She has him whipped, and he’s a coward.

“You can’t!” he snaps, and finally her indifferent expression is broken, the hint of a frown creasing her brow.

“I can. I have every right to call myself out of it. Or would you force me?”

“What-- no!”

“There you have it, then. The arrangement, as it is, needs to end. I can’t keep being part of it.”

Anger barely in check, a sudden ache in his chest, Ernesto turns to Héctor. “And you agree with this?” he snaps. His best friends returns his gaze, still saddened… but his voice is firm.

“There’s a baby coming. We need to… to make some changes, even if we don’t like it. For the baby.”

Oh, of course. Anything for the damn baby that’s not even a baby yet-- but what about about him?

What do they care? They have their baby now. A brand new third wheel. That’s all I was, no? It was stupid to think that had changed. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

It stings - a lot - and Ernesto realizes that if he stays there he’ll scream or, worse yet, break. So he does the only thing he can do: he stands abruptly, almost knocking down the chair, and storms out of the restaurant - trying not to think, saying nothing, without looking back.

He doesn’t think he could stand turning to see those two still there, hand in hand - but ah, it’s no longer just the two of them, is it? There are three people around that table. The perfect number.

And he’s not part of it anymore.

***

“All right. What’s wrong?”

Sofía’s voice rings out in the darkened room. Ernesto, who’s staring at the wall and scowling, makes a face despite knowing she can’t see it at all.

“Nothing,” he says, hoping it will be enough. It clearly… isn’t.

“Yeah, no. You show up and suggest drinks, which was always your code for ‘fuck later’, and I say sure, got no plans for the night and it’s been a while. With you, I mean, I kept myself busy.”

“I’m sure you did.”

“We go out to have the drinks and you hardly talk, which is not unwelcome but also unlike you, since you can spend up to three hours talking about yourself without pausing - I timed you once,” Sofía says, and pokes him in the ribs. “Cigarette?”

“Not good for my voice,” Ernesto grumbles, still resting on his side to glare at the wall. He hears the sound of a lighter, a deep inhale, and he hopes she’s done talking. She’s not.

“I mean, really - there was karaoke going on and you didn’t elbow your way to the microphone. That is so unlike you it gets into worrying territory.”

“I was not in the mood--”

“Then you come to my place, fail to get it up - not that unusual, really--”

“Hey now--”

“-- But nothing some work can’t fix, and then suddenly you have a headache and would rather just sleep.”

“You’re giving me a headache right now,” he points out, turning.

“So you did not have a headache,” Sofía mutters, and triumphant note in her voice, and Ernesto snorts, shutting his eyes. There is a huff, and she rests her chin on his upper arm, blowing some smoke in his face. “Come on, who was it?”

“What are you talking about?”

“I recognize heartbreak when I see it, amigo.”

“I’m not heartbroken!” he sputters indignantly, spitting out the last word like it’s something rotten, and turns his head to glare at her - getting another puff of smoke in the face.

“Hu-uh. And I’m a bride of Christ,” she mutters, and pulls back to rest on her back, a hand reaching out to tangle in his hair. “Look, I still have no plans for the night. If you want to keep up your Macho Act I’ll go make myself a sandwich, have another smoke and go watch a movie or something. If you’d rather talk about it, I’ll listen. You’ve got time until I finish this cigarette to decide.”

Ernesto lets out scoff and stands, throwing the sheets off himself. “There’s nothing to talk about,” he says sourly, grabbing his clothes. He’s out of the door a minute later, slamming it shut, and gaining no reaction but a raised eyebrow and another drag of the cigarette.

***

[Back]

[Next]

#pixar coco #coco #ernesto de la cruz #imelda rivera #hector rivera #mind the gap

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lozenger8 · 6 years ago

Text

in awe of somethin' so flawed and free

Written for @scottappreciation week, Days 5, 6 and 7 (Heartbeats Rising, The True Alpha, Road Ahead). Scott/Stiles, G except for all the swearing. Title from Hozier because I am nothing if not predictable.

There’s an old adage in storytelling of ‘show, don’t tell’ which people frequently try to apply to real life, but Scott doesn’t know how to explain how deeply he’s fallen in love with Stiles without saying the words, because nothing being shown is new. He’s always wanted to be this close to Stiles, always put his life on the line, always imagined a future of them together. Scott has pulled himself apart for Stiles and sewn himself back together, and when he did that, he loved him, but not in the same way. Before, the love felt deep inside him, a tiny ball of warmth beneath his rib cage. That sensation is still there, but now it stretches all through him, radiating out beams of light that skitter over his skin.

Stiles has been back in Beacon Hills for four months and five days. Scott’s not truly back, yet, still commuting to graduate veterinary medicine classes at Davis. And every time they’re in the same room, Scott thinks this is the time he’s going to tell Stiles, this is when the truth will finally slip out. But somehow, some way, he always manages to contain himself.

The thing is, Scott loves the person he can be when Stiles is around, loves who Stiles brings out with a well-timed in-joke, fond smile, raised eyebrow, squeeze on the shoulder, handshake, hug. Only his mom knows him the same way Stiles does, and sometimes that’s a curse as well as a blessing, but there’s such relief in being known. However, he loves Stiles for Stiles too, for being funny and loyal and the parallelogram to his square. Scott’s in awe of how he’s grown, how they both have. Scott thinks, together, they’ve become something to be admired rather than feared, a force of calm and confidence.

Plus, Stiles is objectively hot, there’s no denying it. When Stiles sits close to him, Scott’s pulse races and his tongue goes dry, and he can’t stop visualizing how they’d look together, because damn.

“Are you okay?” Stiles asks him on one such occasion, because he does that now, he checks in. Sometimes it’s a little on the condescending side, but Scott still likes it, because for Stiles to be making the effort, he must really care about the answer.

Scott pauses for a moment, because how could he tell Stiles he’s fine, he’s good, he’d just be better pressed all up against Stiles, limb against limb, lips against lips?

Like that, probably, using those precise words, but they’re lodged in the back of his throat.

Better to show him, maybe, but what if Stiles doesn’t reciprocate these feelings? Sometimes, Scott thinks… maybe. But then that air of suggestion dissipates and he assumes it was imagined.

“Honestly? I’m kinda exhausted. Finishing off my degree is kicking my ass,” Scott says, because he has learned to both accept and mention his limitations more frequently and it’s been very useful, especially in moments like this when Stiles frowns in commiseration and rubs a comforting hand up and down his arm.

“Skip the pack dinner and movie night, go straight to bed?” Stiles asks, and Scott knows he doesn’t mean to make it sound like it’s something they’ll be doing in tandem, in the same bed, but his nervous system doesn’t.

“No,” Scott says. “I wanna see everyone and when we’re all together I feel energized.”

“I asked Alan about that and he said it’s purely psychosomatic. There’s no mythical True Alpha pack boost magic.”

“I don’t care. And the great thing about placebos is that you can know they’re bullshit and yet they still work.”

Stiles graces him with a wide smile, which he does a lot more now; half-knowing, half-skeptical, and he moves his hand from Scott’s upper arm to his shoulder. The touch lights up every single nerve on his right side and Scott’s spine shivers.

“Tell me if it gets to be too much.”

“I will,” Scott replies with a dramatic roll of his eyes. He might even be telling the truth.

Scott wasn’t lying about wanting to be with the pack. He can and will listen to hours of Liam and Mason debating the latest movie to watch, likes watching Corey and Hayden mocking them with love-filled expressions, and will sit behind Malia alongside Kira and braid her hair. Sometimes, Lydia video calls from Oxford. Stiles talks shop with Noah in the kitchen, ostensibly preparing food and usually bringing far less than Melissa and Scott bought into the living room. Scott will attempt to pick Alan’s brains in some covert study revision in the guise of casual conversation and never get away with it. When they play the movie, Stiles will sit so close to Scott he’s practically in his lap. And it’s good.

This night, he really is so tired his bones ache, so Scott says his goodnights halfway through the second movie and goes to shower before tucking himself up in bed. This ability to cast himself loose when he needs to is one of the many benefits of still living with his mom when he stays in Beacon Hills. He’s going to get his own place, eventually, when he makes a living wage and isn’t pulled pillar to post. Luckily, his mom seems in no hurry to push him out.

An hour later there’s a knock on his door. Scott awakes, flicks on his lamp, mumbles, “Come in.”

“Oh, you really went to sleep, shit, sorry,” Stiles says, looking poleaxed.

“I did tell you I was tired,” Scott says, sitting up against his headboard and tugging his sheet so it covers him to his waist. He’s wearing boxer briefs and only boxer briefs, and even though he’s been naked around Stiles before, these days doing so feels charged.

Stiles shrugs a shoulder. “That’s my go-to excuse when I need me-time.”

“I would not being doing that in a house full of supernatural and extraordinary humans,” Scott states, emphatically.

“I did not mean it like that, oh my God,” Stiles replies, giving a shocky little laugh. He hikes a thumb over his shoulder. “I’ll go.”

“No, stay. I think that power nap did me a world of good.”

Scott gestures to the side of his bed and after he closes the door, Stiles settles there on top of the sheet, shoulder nudging into Scott’s. His sleeves are rolled up and Scott reminds himself to take slow, deep breaths to calm his rapturous excitement at the possibility of skin meeting skin.

“Are you sure it’s just you being tired?” Stiles asks. “There’s been something different about you lately I can’t pinpoint.”

Scott wants to tell Stiles the truth, but he also doesn’t want to put this barrier between them. He knows they won’t break, they’ve been through too much, but they’ll definitely change, in small yet significant ways. Stiles will stop touching him so much, and that little piece of familiarity, or home, will disappear.

“It’s nothing bad,” Scott says, because it’s not. He refuses to think of his feelings as something to discredit, diminish or degrade.

“All right,” Stiles says, though every tone is grudging.

“You trust me, right?”

“Always. With my life.”

“Then please trust me on this.”

Stiles nods, picks at the hem of his shirt. In the half-light of the room he’s all angles and shadows, and Scott’s heart rate picks up to astronomical heights. The heat he always feels where Stiles is concerned burns inferno hot. There’s tension between them, taut as one of Stiles’ yarn threads.

“You want a run-down of the rest of the movie you missed?” Stiles asks, taking that tension and cutting it, short and sharp.

“Yeah, go on, spoil me.”

For the next hour, they chat, until Scott’s woozy again and Stiles is fully slumped against his arm, head cradled on his shoulder. Scott’s the most comfortable he’s been in a long time, with the weight and heat of Stiles on him, the scent of him in his nose.

“I should let you sleep again, but I don’t wanna,” Stiles says, quiet. They turned Scott’s lamp off a while back so they’re shrouded in the dark.

“Cruel. I thought you cared about my best interests?”

“I do, but I care about mine too and every part of me wants to be near to you.”

Scott tries, really hard, not to read too much into that, but it’s a pretty suggestive declaration. “Even your spleen?”

“You fuckin’ nerd. Especially my spleen. My lungs. My skin. My heart. All my organs, really. Nope. I just heard what that sounds like. No need to say it.”

In the interests of ‘show, don’t tell’, Scott reaches over and takes Stiles’ hand. He twines their fingers together, strokes his thumb in soft circles against Stiles’ delicate skin. It feels so right and he wonders why he never tried before.

In the interests of really needing and wanting to tell Stiles, he speaks too.

“I feel the same way. That’s the difference you’ve been noticing. I realized I’ve fallen in love with you.”

Scott can only see an impression of Stiles’ expression, but all fear he held evaporates as Stiles snuggles even closer to him and sighs. “Thank God. I thought I was the only one.”

They hold onto each other a little longer and then Stiles shifts position. Scott can feel him a few inches away, can just about see the whites of his eyes.

“Are you gonna kiss me?” Scott asks, hopeful.

“Actually, I was waiting for you to kiss me.”

When they kiss, it’s a mutual movement. Stiles’ kisses are all-encompassing. He has a way of mouthing at Scott’s bottom lip with a sweet suck. Scott’s whole body is set alight and he embraces it, embraces Stiles.

And this, this is new, this way of expressing the love he’s always felt. Scott smiles into their kisses and thinks about all the other ways he can show Stiles how thoroughly he has his heart.

#my words #text post #scottmccallweek #sciles #foreversciles #I will write this story 500 times #and I will write it 500 more

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mitchmarnier · 6 years ago

Photo

SEMI CHARMED LIFE

summary: “You guys have kept in contact this whole time?” Bill asked, brow disappearing underneath hair line as he looked like his old friends in amazement. “And you guys are.. what? Room mates?”

Eddie avoided looking at Richie as he answered. “Yeah, uh… room mates. Something like that.”

[or: the adult!losers reunion, done 2000s sit-com style, just like we all deserve.]

chapter count: 1/?

Ben Hanscom kicked at the dirt path alongside the Barrens. It was as just as obviously a foot-made path as it had been twelve years earlier, the last time Ben had walked down here. Back then, he had never been walking alone- always flanked with two or more of his friends from youth.

For safety, Ben remembered bitterly. It had been little Eddie Kaspbrak who had made the first statement, that nobody should go into the Barrens alone, after Ben had been attacked that day. They hadn’t even been my friends, Ben thought to himself. He picked at long, overgrown yellowing grass alongside the path. I’d only known Beverly then, but they’d stood by me. Stole supplies for me. Even though it put them higher on Henry Bowers’ shit list.

Henry Bowers… Ben let out a shaky laugh, pressing his hand against the long faded scar on his stomach. It was barely visible now days, over a decade faded in age and dimmed with the loss of his childhood weight. That day, though undoubtably terrible, had been the last day for many years that Ben Hanscom had been able to say he didn’t have any friends.

Those same friends that Ben hadn’t been spoken to near on a decade, people he’d considered to be his soul mates and thought he’d never separate from. They’d graduated high school, moved across the country, and by the time the summer of 1996 rolled around- they didn’t even speak at all.

Until Derry High School had sent out the e-mails, announcing that in the May of 2005 that they would be holding a 10 year reunion for the graduates of 1995. Mike Hanlon had reached out not long after that. Ben had a Facebook, used it for his work, and had looked up his former friends after hearing from Mike. Most of them had not taken the leap to website, but two had.

Richie Tozier, who seemed to embraced his given name of Richard, seemed to only have work friends on his Facebook as well. He’d gone into work with radio, such a Richie job Ben had thought fondly when he’d realized. There was a slight illusion of some sort of serious relationship on Richie’s Facebook, if just from small comments of his own and that of his friends. He didn’t list a relationship status, nor any name of the radio station he worked for. Ben had scrolled through Richie’s page for his entire lunch break and still hadn’t reached the end.

Beverly Marsh had also gone online with Facebook, but had taken a longer time for Ben to find. At some point in the last ten years, Beverly had gone and tied the knot. Her Facebook name now fell under Bev Rogan and was listed as Married to Thomas Rogan. Her privacy settings were much higher than Richie’s- which had easily been non-existent, so Ben hadn’t been able to see any of her personal posts. He supposed that was for the best, if the uncomfortable feeling in his gut at just the thought of Beverly being married had anything to say about it- he wouldn’t have been able to look at Beverly’s happy life.

Ben moved himself up the steep hill, and walked back to his patiently waiting cab. His overly friendly driver grinned up at in the rearview mirror. “Anything interesting down there?” He asked him happily.

“Yeah, yes,” Ben said, voice croaking. “I was just…” An image of bulky thick rimmed glasses, and burning red hair flashed in Ben’s mind. “Just visiting some old ghosts.”

→ → →

“Just not too hot!” Eddie Kaspbrak was calling over his shoulder as his husband was attempting to assure him out the front door. “You know not to make it too hot, it’s really important. If it’s too hot, it’ll-“

“Eddie, sweetheart,” Maggie Tozier laughed happily, patting her starting to winkle hand against Eddie’s soft cheek. “I’ve done this once or twice. You don’t have anything to worry about, sweetie. Go see your friends, have good time.”

“Yes, I-” Eddie nodded, feeling Richie’s arm coming to rest around his waist. “I know, I know. But we have a very particular schedule we’ve been working with and if it’s-“

“Okay,” Richie pressed a quick kiss to Eddie’s cheek then grinned at his mother. “We’re going to get going, before we’re late and Eddie says something rude that he doesn’t mean.” Eddie grumbled, but flushed and leaned into his husband’s gentle touch. “Love you, Ma. Thanks so much for doing this. Tell Dad we’ll go out for a drink before we head home.”

Maggie rolled her eyes. “He’s your father. Tell him yourself.” Richie gave a matching eye roll, ushering Eddie out of the door and shutting it behind them.

→ → →

“Who’s a good boy?” Mike Hanlon cooed as his six month old golden retriever, Henry, jumped up on him with his paws landing in Mike’s awaiting hands. “You are! You’re the goodest boy!”

Mike’s boyfriend, Alexander, padded into the farm house’s kitchen in his flannel house coat with a steaming cup of what could only be coffee in his hand. He grinned at Mike and shook his head. “Don’t say things like that. You’re going to give the other animals a complex.”

Mike beamed. “They can’t hear me from in here.”

“You don’t know that.”

Mike and Alexander had been together going on two years now. Six months earlier, Mike’s father had been diagnosed with Alzheimer Disease, and when Mike had expected to loose out on the best relationship of his life because of the time he’d be (willingly) giving up to care for his father, Alexander had surprised him for the millionth time since Mike had met him. He’d jumped right into the situation, moving his things into the Hanlon’s farmhouse and taking up what Mike felt might be a little more than his shared of responsibilities.

“When are you meeting your friends?” Alexander asked, jumping to sit up on the countertop with his legs dangling.

Mike sighed, scooping his pup into his arms and pressing his face into his fur. “Soon. Really soon. I should get going if I’m going to make into town in time.”

Alexander raised his eyebrows. “Wasn’t this whole get up your idea? Why do you seem so reluctant to actually go?”

Mike walked forward and dropped Henry into his boyfriend’s ready open arms. “I’m not reluctant… I’m definitely excited to see them. It’s just… it’s been a long time, you know? I guess I’m nervous.”

Alexander nodded, scratching behind Henry’s floppy ear. “I don’t think you need to be worried. If even half the things you told me about your old friends are true, you’re going to click back to who you were immediately.”

→ → →

Beverly Rogan had stepped off the train in Derry and had absolutely no idea what the hell she was doing. The town of Derry hadn’t changed in the decade since she’d turned her away from it and never looked back. Same stores that looked like they hadn’t been renovated since the 1960s, same people on the streets giving her dirty looks- just a little bit older. She hadn’t even come back to this place when her father had died six years earlier, and could barely explain to herself why she was coming back now. It certainly wasn’t to celebrate her days at Derry High School.

She hadn’t been able to explain it to her husband, either. Tom didn’t like surprises, and he very much did not like surprises that including his wife packing up half her belongings and getting on a train. Belongings she was still carrying on with her, which was only drawing more eyes to her. Tom Rogan was a good guy, but as Beverly had learned slowly- not the best husband. He was neglectful and didn’t’ seem to have any idea of how to make a person truly happy. She’d walked out to return to her high school reunion, and didn’t know she if she’d been walking out on her marriage overall.

Beverly stood outside the old Dancing Clown diner, knowing that she was early, knowing that she’d never given Mike a straight answer on whether or not she was coming. Inhaling deeply, she started up to the building and went inside.

→ → →

Bill Denbrough tripped and nearly fell down the flight of stairs at parents house. He bounced into the living room, trying to stuff his foot into a sock. His twenty-one year old brother barely even looked up from video game and let out a laugh. “Ha. Fucking loser.”

“You’re one to talk,” Bill shot back, licking his lips and frowning to try to keep himself from stuttering. It was never as bad as when he was back in Derry, there were times when he could years without stuttering if he didn’t make a home visit. “When’s the last time you got off that cuh-couch?”

George held up a half eaten Pizza Pocket and shook it in display. Bill made a disgusted noise and looked over at his father, who’d yet to glance up from his book since breakfast that morning. Turning away, Bill grabbed a jacket from rack by the front door and shrugged it on. The air was still crisp in Maine this early in May, he was lucky Audra had thought to bring them. Despite being the native Maine-r, Bill often forgot what life was like living in Maine. It sometimes felt almost like a repression, and everything was burning into his mind that second he crossed into the state like. Never mind once they’d ridden into Derry.

Bill and Audra had spent the better part of the last year in England, sending their belongings to their unlived in New York apartment while themselves and enough things for the weekend made their way to Derry.

“You’re leaving now?” Audra asked, appearing by Bill’s side as he started putting his boots on. He looked up at his girlfriend of three years and smiled at her. “Have fun, I hope your friends are as awesome as you remember them being. When you get back, there’s something I’ve got to talk to you about.”

“No, no no, hey no,” Bill stood up straight and took Audra’s hands into his own. “You can’t pull that on me, baby. You know I’ll be able to do is worry about what you’re going to tell me the whole time. Just tell me now.”

Audra smiled. “You don’t need to worry about it right now.”

“But I will, if you don’t tell me what it is?” Bill said, rubbing his thumbs against the backs of Audra’s hands. “Please just tell me.”

“I’m pregnant.”

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“Are you going to go inside?” Patty Blum asked, taping the steering wheel and making her engagement ring flash in the sunlight that cast through the car window.

“Maybe.” Stanley Uris replied, picking at his peeling bottom and staring out at the Dancing Clown diner. “Definitely maybe.”

Patty sighed, part annoyed, part fond and turned off the car. She twisted in her seat and gave her fiancée the stare down. ‘If you didn’t want to come here, why didn’t you say so?”

Stan made a loud and offended noise. “I did say so! I said so very many times actually! You just ignored me, packs our backs for us and told me to stop being dramatic.” Stan crossed his arms and goodness nearly pouted.

Patty rolled her eyes. “You were being dramatic. I’m still not sure what your issue is… why are you so afraid of seeing your old friends?”

Stan pressed his head against the head rest of the seat. “I did some shit that I’m not proud of. My best friend… I… I was so desperate to get away from this place, and I kind of betrayed him.”

“So, you’re not going to go in there because you’re afraid of your high school best friend that you stabbed in the back ten years ago?” Patty chuckled. “If it’s eating you up this badly, I can promise he’s moved on. You’re going to go in there, and you’re talk to him, and you’re going find out all the amazing things he’s done since this stupid betrayal that probably means nothing now. And you’ll tell him yours, and he’ll be happy for you and if he’s not- then fuck him.”

Stan cupped Patty’s cheek and kissed her lightly. “Have I told you yet today that I love you?”

“Mmm once or twice,” Patty said lightly. “But it’s always nice to hear it. Now go get em, baby. Call me if you need somebody to pick you up.”

Stan nodded, slipped out of the car and walked into the old diner. His eyes moved through until it fell onto what had once been the Losers Table and saw an all too familiar looking red head seated. Grinning to himself, he tucked his hands into the back pockets of his jeans and stepped up beside the table. Beverly looked like she walked straight to the diner from however she’d gotten into town, her bags all jammed underneath the table.

“Well, would you look what the cat dragged in?” Stan said in a happy voice that he hoped didn’t sound too forced. Forced or not, Beverly beamed at his greeting and quickly jumped to her feet. Even in high school, Bev had been shorter than Stan and that had been before Stan had hit that oh so rare growth spurt in his freshman year of college.

“Stanley!” Beverly said cheerfully, squeezing his hips. “Stan the MAN! Look at you! You’ve got to be as tall as Richie now!”

Stan smiled bashfully- his perfect dimple smile, as Patty always called it- and slid into the booth beside her. They both kicked at the luggage under the table, giggling to each other like children. The diner seemed oddly deserted, a place that had been so important to them growing up, now seemed ready to close with a single moment’s notice. The door jingle open and Mike Hanlon, the man breaking into a deep grin the second he caught sight of his friends.

“Stanley Uris and Beverly Marsh,” Mike said in a laugh as Beverly leapt right back up to her feet and rushed at him. Mike patted at the top of her head, smiling softly at Stan from across the diner. “Why am I not surprised that you two beat me to my own event?”

“Why am I not surprised that you’re the only person who lives in Derry and you couldn’t even be the first person here?” Stan shot back dryly, standing as well and clasping Mike on the shoulder. The words seemed to hang in the air for moment, heavy and tense, before Mike simply smiled and they took their seats back around the diner table.

“You stayed in Derry?” Beverly asked, eyes widening as she slipped in to sit beside Mike. There was the distinct sound of three pairs of feet kicking at Beverly’s aggressive amount of luggage while Mike avoided making eye contact with Stan. “I thought you went to NYU with Eddie?”

“I was going to,” Mike said in light voice. “That was the plan but you know how life can be. Things get a little mixed up and then..” The bell to the door rang out again, stealing the attention from all three former Losers. Bill Denbrough nearly stumbled into the diner, pale and looked dazed, seeming almost as though they’d came in by accident. He dropped into the booth without so much of a greeting, and dropped his hand onto Stanley’s shoulder. Stan crinkled his nose up in repulsion and forced himself to allow that distantly familiar touch.

“How you doin’ honey?” Beverly asked gently, looking between Mike and Stan’s worried gazes.

Bill groaned deeply, pressing his face harder into the crock of Stanley’s neck. “Life is terrible, nothing good happens to anybody and then we all die.”

Stanley coughed awkwardly. “Listen, Bill… I appreciate your struggle, but if you could please…”

“Sit up, man,” Mike said a little sharply and Bill startled upwards. “Oh, shit, Stan, I’m so sorry, I tuh-tuh-totally forgot!”

“It’s fine,” Stan said mildly, waving Bill’s apology off. “Is it really that bad being back in Derry? I know it’s no back packing trip through Europe but…”

Bill barked out a laugh while Beverly shook her head. “What, Stan? Did you keep tabs on us for the last ten years? Should we be worried?”

Stan shook his head. “Not all of you.”

The ringing silence danced over the table before Mike cleared his throat awkwardly. “You mean Richie, right? Stan, I really don’t think that Richie-“

“Don’t think I what?” Richie’s voice called over from where he was ducking into the entrance with an arm tossed around one Eddie Kaspbrak. The entire group of former Losers jumped, Stan feeling his heart leapt into his throat. “You guys all already talking shit about mem before I’m even here to defend myself?”

“Yup,” Beverly agreed, tears starting to well up into her eyes. “You have to know that somethings never change, don’t ya?”

Richie hummed, dropping his arm from Eddie’s shoulder to catch Beverly as she came running for him. Eddie laughed lightly, as Richie spun Bev around and narrowly avoided knocking over several chairs. He slid into Beverly’s seat, greeting Mike with a tight hug and smiling towards Bill and Stan across the table. As Beverly attempted to sit back beside Eddie, Richie slipped in before in and took the spot. Beverly raised her brow as she moved in beside Bill, muttering something under her breath about somethings really don’t change.

Richie gave a over joyous greeting to Mike, his voice sobering up as he glanced across the table towards Bill and Stan. He gave one simple nod, forced a small smile and pushed out one simple: “Lads.”

“Richard.” Stan said back through a dry throat. Eddie reached out and began fiddling with the sugar dispenser, Mike noting the discolour of paler skin on his ring finger and frowning.

“What are we all talking about?” Eddie asked, speaking fast and voice high. Stan almost smiled at the memories of Eddie’s nervous voice, the kind he only used when desperate to talk about anything else.

“Billy here was about to tell us about his backpacking trip in Europe with his movie star girlfriend,” Beverly jumped in, pinching at Bill’s cheeks.

“No fucking shit, Denbrough?” Richie laughed, fingers twitching as though desperate to return to a muscle memory habit but being unable to. “I always knew you were going to do some high living, but fuck, dude.”

“She’s not really a movie star,” Bill said, swaying slightly like he may be sick. “She’s a had a few roles in some B Lists and guest star roles on main broadcast television. She’s no Winona Ryder or anything.”

“Obviously,” Stan and Richie spoke up in unison, voices dancing in harmony. “Nobody could be Winona Ryder except Winona Ryder.”

Another awkward silence settled over the table, Stan biting his lip and looking down at the diner table while Richie looked up at the ceiling as though pissed with himself. Beverly thought she noticed Eddie’s hand slipping underneath the table, but was quickly pulled away from the moment by the diner’s door opening once more.

Ben Hanscom stumbled into the diner, out of breath and with mud stains on his jeans. He ran his fingers through his curlier-than-she-remembered hair as his danced through the diner until they landed on her. She watched the way the muscles in his neck hitched, as though he’d momentarily forgotten how to breathe, and she felt her lungs follow his inabilities for just a moment.

“Here we go,” Richie leaned over and whispered to Eddie, who pursed his lips in an attempt not to laugh. “Haystack! My main man! The biggest dick I’ve ever had the pleasure of seeing! Pull up at a chair!”

Ben’s cheeks turned a deep red, and the rest of the table all burst out laughing as Ben followed through with Richie’s request. “Come on, Rich, we all know you haven’t even seen Ben’s dick.” Bill said with the first genuine smile he’d cracked since he’d gotten there.

Richie gave Bill a dark, deadpan expression. “You don’t know what I’m into.”

“Oh… Kay..” Bill said slowly, frowning to himself while Eddie nudged Richie’s shoulder gently.. “Suh-suh-sorry, I guess?”

Richie shook his head, and forced a quick smile. “It tis no problem, misuser! But as we have all arrived now, why don’t we give a quick run down of a decade! Eds and I here are still out in the big apple-“

“You and Eddie live together?” Beverly cut across him, frowning in confusion. Richie opened his mouth, then snapped it shut before looking towards Eddie. Eddie cleared his throat and smiled.

“After what happened with UCLA, Richie came with me to NYU instead of staying in Derry,” Eddie said with a shrug. “Since Mike wasn’t going to go anymore, we moved into the apartment together and I just we just never… stopped living together.”

“So, You guys have kept in contact this whole time?” Bill asked, brow disappearing underneath hair line as he looked like his old friends in amazement. “And you guys are.. what? Room mates?”

Eddie avoided looking at Richie as he answered. “Yeah, uh… room mates. Something like that.”

Richie slammed his hands down onto the table. “Somebody else talk now!!!”

Ben startled, then cleared his throat. “I uh… I actually live in New York, too.” He said slowly. “I work for the Pennywise Architecture firm. I’m just an intern still, might as well be unpaid but it’s a first step to my dream job so I deal with it.”

“Okay, not to make things kind of weird…” Beverly scratched at the side of her face. “But I actually live in New York, too. My husband got a transfer last spring, better pay and all that fun stuff. I don’t work, but I sell commissions on my art and a little bit clothing design. I might do something with that, I haven’t decided just yet. I think Tom wants to start a family so I’m not really sure just now.”

Richie narrowed his eyes, but Eddie quickly caught across him. “A family is so worth it, Beverly. Trust me, you won’t regret it.”

Beverly smiled blandly, and the conversation slowed until the Bill cleared his throat. “Audra and I actually just bought an apartment in New York. She wuh-wants to do some wuh-work on Broadway and I can wruh-write anywhere, so. We haven’t moved in yet, because we were in Euh-Europe but we’re going straight there after the ruh-reuinon.”

“I…” Stan cleared his throat, a look of concern and discomfort on his face. “I’m actually engaged, Patty she’s… the most amazing person I’ve ever met. She’s still in school, trying to be a high school teacher. She’s… finishing her degree at NYU once the new semester starts. We’re moving out there in like a month from Atlanta.”

Every face turned to look at Mike, who sighed and rubbed at his face. “I applied to some museum job in New York on a whim earlier this year, but I actually got it. I’m not going to go, my dad needs me here and my job is fine but… I told my partner that I’ve turned it down but I actually haven’t yet. I don’t know why I didn’t, I guess part of it just felt wrong.”

“What was it we all used to say back then?” Beverly asked, shaking her head slightly. “When all those weird things happened that we couldn’t explain?”

Ben looked at her and smiled. “Soulmates for the centuries.”

#reddie #reddie fic #benverly #benverly fic #it fanfiction #my writing #semi charmed life #lets' try again shall we #tumblr work properly challenge #i don't remember who asked me to tag them #so rip i guess

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