#anyway drag her gareth she deserves it

[ateliaers]

❛ —he's still sleeping, by the way. just so you know. ❜ sleeping was a good way to put it. it made it sound like lamorak was merely resting, recuperating from their time on mount tombe, rather than stuck in limbo for the third week in a row. it must be her former proximity to lancelot, gareth thought, that made her presence slightly more tolerable than that of her siblings in the eyes of the welshmen. or maybe it was simply that with the most vocal part of their trio laid up in bed and comatose, the sons of pellinore simply did not have it in them to uphold their feud. whatever it was, they hadn't shouted her off when she'd come by for news ; aglovale had merely looked at her like she'd grown a second head and then a third, which wasn't novel enough to warrant a comment. she slumped into the space next to gaheris, crossing her legs and snatching an apple off the basket sitting in front of her twin. ❛ not that you care. right ? ❜ — @sentinaels.

indignation should have welled up within her at the implication. in a world where it did, gareth’s approach would have been met with a withering stare, & an apt, if sardonic, remark, or an ill – conceived crack at lamorak’s expense, perhaps. as it was, the eyes turned upon her sister were dull & listless, puffed with what gaheris had staunchly claimed was a lack of sleep, & for half a heartbeat, she wondered if she should put up the token defence that would be expected of her, before letting the notion slip away.

she had never been able to hide anything from gareth in her life. what was the point in starting to try now ?

❛ fuck you, ❜ she gave in greeting, without any of her usual vehemence. ❛ i’m surprised they even let you in. i wouldn’t have, ❜ & there, in the space where there should have been a joke, was silence. she felt herself listing, little by little, until her head came to rest on gareth’s shoulder, a comfort she hadn’t sought in who knew how long.

❛ i — we should have been there, ❜ it was a sentiment she had expressed more than once since the others had returned, but never with such a heaviness in her voice. ❛ if they’d had more bodies, more people to act as back – up, distractions, even … ❜ nothing explicit had been uttered, but her thoughts seemed to hang in the air between them, saying he wouldn’t have had to fight alone. she could picture it so clearly, too — lamorak, & only the chip on his shoulder for company, that burning desire for glory which would have driven him to make a stand. if it had been possible to kiss such foolish defiance away, she would have rid him of it long ago.

❛ go on then, ❜ she said, shifting slightly as she searched for a more comfortable position against gareth’s impossibly bony shoulder, the act of sitting upright apparently beyond her now that she had a warm body to laze against. ❛ i know what you’re thinking. & i’ve already called myself an idiot for it a thousand times, but you might as well have your own turn at it. ❜ better to be called a fool than a coward, even if, in her heart of hearts, she knew both to be the truth. gareth, at the very least, had been able to bring herself to cross the threshold of the listenoise household, & ask after the middle brother directly. she had tried half a dozen times, & had turned back before she even reached the door, fists knotted in her skirts, berating herself all the while for what she lacked.

❛ it’s just … no change at all ? not even a flinch ? you’re sure aglovale wasn’t just keeping quiet to get rid of you ? ❜

[punkrockmlchael]

Bed Chem - Chapter Three

My Main Masterlist

Bed Chem Masterlist

Modern AU; Rockstar!Gareth Emerson x Popstar!Fem Reader (Both Gareth and Reader are in their early 20s) ; loosely based off of the song Bed Chem by Sabrina Carpenter

Warnings: 18+ mdni, Slow Burn, Popstar!Fem Reader, Rockstar!Gareth, Best Friend!Robin, Mutual Pining, Flirting, Texting, Smut: Sending Spicy Pictures, Masturbation (Fem and Male; these two are so far up each other's asses it's not even funny), Brief Descriptions of: PinV, Oral (Fem and Male Receiving), Hand Jobs

Synopsis: And now the next thing I know I'm like, manifest that you're oversized. I digress, got me scrollin' like, out of breath, got me goin' like...

Word Count: 2.5k

-

The last couple days or so have been a blur. Between sitting in the studio writing and recording, to doing a couple shows around your hometown, to spending most of your free time texting Gareth (which you weren’t complaining about); it had all been a little too much. You wanted nothing more than to take a hot bubble bath and just… relax.

Relax and forget about your problems, your priorities, everything for a good solid half hour, or maybe longer. Just yourself, some foamy bubbles and some hot, steamy water as you sink deeper and deeper into your bathtub.

You walked around your bathroom quickly in your pink lace panties, your oversized Corroded Coffin band tee and your pink fuzzy bunny slippers. Gathering everything you needed for your bath: a fresh towel, some bubble bath and your robe; you moved to hang the pink, silky robe up on the back of the bathroom door before you set your clean towel on the counter next to the sink.

You brushed through your hair gently before you moved to put your hair up in a messy bun, fingers moving through your locks as you worked your magic on the messy updo; it’s not like anyone was going to see you anyways.

You placed the bottle of bubble bath on the side of the bathtub before you turned the water on, allowing it to reach the perfect temperature for you before you plugged the bathtub. Robin had texted you telling you about her most recent date, you giggled as you read through her message, reading all of the juicy details she had given you. Turns out she had met a girl named Vickie at one of your most recent shows and really hit it off with her, and she sounded really sweet. And you were happy for her, Robin deserved all the happiness in the world.

Beep.

New Photo from Gareth Emerson.

Gareth: We have a day off today and Eddie dragged me to the gym with him and I’m not really having a good time :/ He made me lift some weights and run laps with him… But, I guess on the bright side, your album makes for some good workout music ;) thanks for keeping me fit!

You opened Gareth’s message as you were sitting on the edge of the bathtub, hot water pouring out of the faucet at a rapid pace. You poured in some lilac scented bubble bath, watching the white bubbles form in the water quickly, the scent instantly bringing you comfort and relaxation.

You clicked on the picture Gareth had sent you, groaning to yourself as it popped up on your screen.

Fuck, he looked good. Better than usual, in fact; something you never thought you would think.

Gareth was a sweaty mess as he stood in front of a full length mirror at the gym. His black shirt was discarded from his body, hanging over his shoulder instead. His tongue was out of his mouth, resting on his bottom lip as if he was in mid pant, struggling to catch his breath from his workout.

His curls were stuck to his forehead as sweat trickled down his face and chest, making his body glisten in the light. His chest muscles and abs were on full display and leaving nothing to the imagination; a little trail of hair sat perfectly below his belly button, sneaking down more and more until it disappeared under his underwear. He wore some grey sweatpants that hung low on his hips, the black band of his boxers peeking out, the words Calvin Klein written in white across the band.

Your eyes trailed down his body in the picture, stopping at the noticeable bulge that sat perfectly against the fabric of the grey sweatpants. A pitiful whine escaped your lips as you stared at that picture, so desperately wanting to know what he was working with underneath those sweatpants and underwear. Though, the photo that he sent did help you paint a good mental picture of what might be… tucked behind that fabric.

You groaned again, closing your eyes as you thought more and more about the drummer in the picture. You knew he meant this as a harmless photo, but you couldn’t deny the desire that pooled more and more between your legs, stirring something deep inside of you that so desperately just wanted Gareth. Your thighs squeezed together tightly, a sigh escaping your lips as you set your phone down on the edge of the bathtub. You drew your attention back to the bathtub, turning the water off as it came towards the top, careful not to overflow the water.

Standing up, you grabbed your phone and walked towards the bathroom mirror, debating with yourself. You took a deep breath, lifting your shirt from the middle, your fingers wrapping around the fabric as you pulled it up higher and higher. Holding the shirt in your left hand, you brought the edge up to your lips, biting the fabric gently. Your body was on full display, your curves showing perfectly as you still kept it modest. You snapped a photo with your phone in your right hand before you typed out a message to Gareth.

You: What a shitty bandmate, making sure you stay fit while on tour… though, I wish I was able to help you stay fit in person ;) I’m sure I could give you some great motivation! This week has been so much for me, running around like crazy… it’s time for a nice, hot bubble bath.

You attached the photo and hit send, setting your phone down on the counter. You stripped from your oversized tee and panties, discarding them on the floor as you stepped out of your slippers. You walked towards the bathtub and stepped in, the stress of the week slowly melting away and you were overcome with water and bubbles. The smell of lilacs filled your nostrils more prominently as you sat back in the tub, closing your eyes.

The picture of Gareth continued to pop into your mind, the need and want becoming more than you could handle. You leaned back against the side of the tub, your right hand moving down your body under the water, moving closer and closer to your core. You stopped your right hand at your clit, rubbing small, tight circles against it slowly.

A whine left your mouth, your eyes closing as you pictured Gareth’s hand rubbing those circles. Your left hand moved to your breasts, pawing at them as you squeezed and massaged them in time with the circles on your clit.

“Fuck, Gareth,” you moaned to yourself, your right hand moving down to your folds. You ran your middle and ring fingers up and down your folds gently before you pushed both fingers inside of you, thrusting them in and out slowly.

Your left hand squeezed your left breast harder, rubbing your thumb over your nipple. You continued to thrust your fingers in and out of you, arching your back slightly.

“Come on, princess,” rang through your head in Gareth’s voice as you began to thrust your fingers faster, groaning at the feeling.

You squeezed and massaged your breast faster, moaning as you thought about Gareth. Picturing his hands on your breasts, his fingers sliding in and out of you. His head between your thighs with his soft curls tickling your skin as his tongue licked up and down your folds before he began sucking at your clit. Picturing him towering over you as he thrusted deeper and deeper into you, grunts escaping his lips as he took you to another world with his cock.

Your middle and ring fingers picked up their pace, thrusting in and out of you faster before you curled them a couple of times, hitting your sweet spot. Your left hand trailed down your stomach, stopping at your clit. You rubbed tight circles on your clit as your fingers thrusted, driving you crazy.

Your back arched slightly, a whine escaping your lips as you clenched around your fingers, feeling yourself get closer and closer to your high.

“That’s it, princess,” rang through your head in Gareth’s voice as you sped up the movements quickly, bucking your hips up as you released around your fingers. You moaned his name again, falling back against the side of the bathtub as your chest rose and fell, trying to catch your breath.

The warm water around your body and the smell of lilac brought you back down to earth, a sad reminder that you were alone in your bath and not with the fluffy haired drummer you were thinking about so much.

-

Gareth had ran another few laps with Eddie before he physically could not do it anymore. He shook his head at Eddie and slowly made his way back to the bench where his belongings were. He grabbed his water bottle, drinking it down like he hadn’t had a drop of water in ages.

He sat on the bench, his back resting against the wall as he groaned, watching the guitarist continue to run around the gym. Fuck him and his agility, Gareth thought as he drank some more water.

He wiped the sweat off of his face with a towel before he grabbed his phone, noticing a new text and photo message from you. When he opened it, his eyes widen; closing the phone quickly so that no one else around him could see it. He cleared his throat and redirected his attention towards Eddie, watching him.

“Are we almost done here?” Gareth asked, “I would like to go take a shower,” he added. And look at that picture you sent him… but, that was besides the point.

“Yeah, just a few more reps,” Eddie grunted, now lifting some weights.

“Remind me never to come to the gym with you again,” Gareth groaned, crossing his arms over his chest as he pouted like a little kid.

Once back in the safety of the hotel room Gareth had shared with Eddie, he groaned, dropping everything on his bed.

“Nice work out, Gare!” Eddie grinned, patting him on the back. Gareth grumbled, rolling his eyes.

“Whatever, Eddie,” he replied, grabbing some new clothes. “I’m gonna go take a shower,” he nodded, making his way towards the bathroom.

“Have fun!”

Gareth made his way to the tiny attached bathroom, closing the door behind him with a quick lock of the handle. He set his clothes on the counter and groaned to himself, opening his phone. He clicked on your name, reading over the text you had sent him from earlier.

He clicked on the photo you sent him, biting his lip as it appeared on his screen, “fucking hell,” he mumbled.

You were standing in front of the mirror in your bathroom, body on full display; those curves of yours making him want to pull you through his phone to take you then and there. Your hair sat in a perfect messy bun on the top of your head, little strands poking out here and there. He could just barely make out the words Corroded Coffin on the oversized tee were wearing, making him groan as he thought of you in his band’s merch.

You had modeled it perfectly, and were showing a decent amount of skin. The fabric of the shirt between your teeth was making him crazy, but the way it rode up to show the perfect amount of cleavage and underboob was something that would drive any man wild. His eyes scanned down your body, stopping on your left hip bone where a small tattoo was.

He raised his eyebrow slightly, zooming in on the picture to see your tattoo, he didn’t know you had one. He saw a small little flower with some leaves and smiled to himself, making a mental note to compliment you on that later. Your pink lace panties with the words Victoria’s Secret across the band made his mind spiral with more and more fantasies about you.

He looked at the photo in full again, groaning to himself as he absentmindedly thrusted against the counter, wanting some friction for his rock hard erection. He placed his phone down on the counter and walked towards the shower, turning the water on. As he stood there waiting for it to warm up he shamelessly palmed himself through his sweatpants, a soft groan escaping his lips as he thought of you.

After a few moments of standing there palming himself, Gareth couldn’t take it any longer. He stripped from his clothes and stepped into the shower, pulling the curtain back as he enclosed himself in the tight space. He let the warm water overtake his aching muscles before he got back to what he was originally doing.

His right hand moved down and wrapped around the base of his cock, squeezing it gently before he pumped his hand around it a few times. A soft groan left his lips as he closed his eyes, picturing you on your knees for him. He moved his hand more, swiping his thumb over the tip of his cock, picturing your pretty lips around it.

Gareth pumped himself again, moving his hand faster as he pictured you. Bending you over his drum set in your pretty little sparkly skirts. Pushing up against the wall backstage at a show. Thrusting into your mouth as you kneeled in front of him. Watching as you wrapped your hand around his cock, pumping it painfully slowly with that perfect grip you have. The little moans and whines that would escape your lips as he thrusted into you deeper and deeper, your nails scratching down the skin of his back or digging into the skin of his biceps.

The thoughts of you continued as he picked up the pace, moaning and groaning your name softly. “Fuck,” he muttered, his hand movements getting sloppy as he came closer and closer to his high.

An image of you on your knees for him, face covered in his cum was what finally pushed him over the edge. The thought of you taking everything he gave you, licking up and down his cock as he came, hips sputtering as came down from his high.

Gareth groaned your name, feeling his hot cum spill onto his hand as he pumped himself a few more times. He sighed, resting the back of his head against the wall of the shower.

He heard a knock on the door followed by Eddie’s voice traveling through the door, “Gareth? Are you almost done in there?”

He grunted softly, cleaning himself up in the water before he began to actually take his shower. “Yeah, I’ll be out soon.” He called back, scrubbing the shampoo through his hair as his mind went back to thoughts about you.

-

tag list: wanna be added? comment + let me know! @the-unforgivenn ; @keeryhours ; @fan-maddson ; @hotgirlsshareaccounts ; @swiftieintheupsidedown ; @hawkinsmafia ; @losingmygrasponreality ; @ilovecupcakesandtea ; @pupwrites ; @the-lurking-await-you ; @l1ving-d3ad-girl-69

[m0llygunn]

*immediately responds back*

I LOVE (a fwbb) LIL SOMETHIN’ SNEAK PEEKS! 🥹

yesssss this is kind of more than a lil sneak peek (its 1.6k of sneakily peeking) but its been so long since the last chapter sooo... also its edited but also its not edited (also pretending i didn't disappear for many weeks after saying i would give u this sorry) anyway this is from somewhere in the middle of the chapter but lets not say

●・○・●・○・●・

“She’s even got me doing her laundry— and the worst part is, I don’t hate it.”

A few weeks have passed since the initial laundry incident, twice over Eddie has helped. Letting you boss him around has been surprisingly… okay? Not the worst? Something he could get used to? You’ve always been on the bossy side but the difference now is that he’s a willing participant— more than a willing participant, a volunteer. 

Tonight you were going to a retirement dinner for a coworker. Eddie thought you’d try to get out of it, but you surprised him, saying that you were going because “Susan is a kind woman, and she deserves to be celebrated.” When Eddie asked if the actual reason you were going was because it was her job that you were inheriting, you hit him. One weak, pregnant woman punch to the shoulder was all the answer he needed to know he was right. 

However, because of your unfortunate moral obligation, Eddie was left with an empty Friday evening. Instead of doing fuck-all at home, he decided to drive out to the shit hole that is Jeff and Gareth’s college apartment and do fuck-all there instead. Despite being a forty minute drive away from you, you’re still the subject of the conversation. 

“Of course you ‘don’t hate it’, she’s basically giving you permission to go through her underwear.”

“Not like that— I mean, that is a bonus—” he pauses, as his mental rolodex of your assortment of underwear flashes through his mind. Cotton, silk, lace, ‘boyshort’ (as you had called them when he asked why your underwear were so… not underwear shaped)— he shakes the thoughts away before he gets to thongs— or worse, lace thongs. “—but, I don’t know. I hate doing laundry, but I have no problem doing hers.”

“Yeah, because you’re in love with her,” Jeff sings, continuing his goading. From his parallel spot on the living room floor, he holds his hand out for the joint. Eddie passes it over, scoffing at Jeff’s accusation. 

“Oh, and you’re the love expert?”

“Yeah,” he exhales his breath of smoke. “Me and my girl, two years strong.”

Jeff takes his last puff, offering the burnt down joint back to Eddie. Eddie takes it— he shouldn’t because they’ve smoked nearly double of what they usually do, but he takes it, pulling the final drag before snubbing it out in the ashtray. Laying back on the floor, he lets his hands rest folded on his chest. 

The ceiling fan whirls on full speed, funnelling and dispersing the thick smoke in the air, the overhead light makes the grey-white popcorn walls glow yellow, the cheap fridge buzzes in the kitchen, and the broken toilet in the bathroom down the hall sounds like non stop running water. Eddie’s mind is far from clear— all hazy and in the clouds but like a tether, no thought ever strays too far from the topic of you. 

“What even is love?” he sighs, closing his eyes. 

“Hmm, wanting to do someone’s laundry?” Jeff says, reaching over to knock Eddie’s head. Eddie blindly tries to hit him back but Jeff retreats too quickly, leaving Eddie swatting at the air. 

“It could be worse,” Gareth says, walking into the living room, finally showing face after being holed away in his room with the lame excuse of having a final next week. Both boys follow him through the living room, watching with red rimmed eyes as he sits on the couch. “She could um…not be in love with you.”

“She’s not,” Eddie scoffs, looking back at the ceiling.

“And you know this, how?”

“She’s just not— and we shouldn’t. We’ve been friends for so long and it works. If it’s not broken, don’t fix it,” Eddie says. It feels like the room starts to pulse, the ceiling getting closer and further away at the same time. He keeps his eyes on the ceiling fan, watching it spin and spin and spin— around and around and around, just like his thoughts. 

“People say that about appliances and cars, not girls, you idiot,” Gareth says, drawing a measly half of Eddie’s attention. Most of his attention stays on the ceiling fan and the perfect analogy for how it's just like his thoughts, spinning around and around— he does have the brief thought that he smoked too much, but his thoughts circle, always coming back to you. 

You circle once, you circle twice. The thought of his future baby circles next. The baby— “Especially now— holy fuck,” Eddie sits up. The thought hits him like a freight train. You and him are friends. Being friends works. Adding a baby into the mix is a big change. Being more than friends and adding a baby— that’s two big changes, that’s two possibilities of your relationship, platonic or not, going very wrong. “Yeah,” he breathes out. “Especially now. We can’t fuck things up— it’s working how things are. We should leave it.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Gareth laughs. “What’s so important about now?”

“What?” Eddie says, shifting his eyes to Gareth on the couch. Jeff laughs and Eddie's stomach plummets. They don’t know about the baby— they don’t know about any detail beyond his unrequited affection for you. He’s supposed to be keeping this all under wraps, you and he agreed. 

“Especially now?” Jeff mocks him.

“Yeah. What’s so important about now? And what exactly is working?” Gareth asks, smirking in a way that makes Eddie desperately wish he hadn’t smoked as much as he did.  

“Nothing,” Eddie shrugs, trying to coolly brush it off. If the heat that rushes to his cheeks is any indication of how cool he’s being, he’s not, and the smoky air in the room certainly isn’t helping. 

“Hold on— you’re doing her laundry? Did I hear that right?” Gareth asks.

“Gare,” Eddie warns. If he can just shut down the conversation, make them move on then maybe—

“You’re doing her laundry— what are you getting in return?” 

Fuck.

“Friendship,” Eddie says, thinking fast— which albeit isn't that fast.

Gareth scoffs a laugh, eyes burrowing beneath Eddie’s skin as his skepticism turns into confidence. “Yeah right, cut the crap. What are you getting in return, Munson?” he repeats. His mouth curls into a deep smirk, and Eddie knows he’s cooked. The sharpness of Gareth’s sobriety is unfair and Eddie’s trying his best to pull a straight, unblushed face. It’s not working. 

“I’m not getting anything in return.”

“Holy shit,” Gareth says excitedly, sitting forward. His eyes light up, smirk turning into a giddy smile. Eddie knows he can’t deny anything anymore, not while he’s this high— he can be childish though, inebriation has never inebriated that ability. 

“Shut up,” he barks, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Holy shit,” Gareth repeats, knees jumping with his growing amusement.

“What?” Jeff says, sitting up. His bloodshot eyes move back and forth trying to piece together the conversation. 

“Eddie and—”

“If you don’t stop talking I’m going home and never coming back here,” Eddie barks.

Gareth laughs at his empty threat. “You’re blushing that means you and—”

“That’s not— I’m not—” Eddie stumbles to backtrack the conversation. It doesnt work, because Gareth bulldozes through his attempts. 

“You guys are fu—”

“No. We’re not!”

“Look at you, you’re redder than—”

“What are you guys talking about—” Jeff hasn’t caught on, but he looks to Gareth, pleading with wide, high-out-of-his-mind pupils for clarity. Eddie opens his mouth, but before he can say anything that might stop this night from going even further astray, Gareth says the condemning words. True words.

“They’re fucking.”

“Who’s fucking?” Bless Jeff's high soul.

“Eddie and—”

Fuck it. Fuck it, fuck it, fuck it. He can’t save the situation, but maybe he can salvage it. 

“It was one time! Okay! One time!” Three times, but that's beside the point. “It wasn’t an exchange,” Eddie sighs. “I didn’t offer to do her laundry because of it. We were drunk. We got carried away.” 

The conversation passes its boiling point, leaving shards of partial truths and overt excitement all over Gareth and Jeff’s shitty apartment floor. Eddie deflates, falling to lay back on the carpet. His confession sits in the air, silence surrounding it. It’s cruel the way that the ceiling fan still spins, taunting him. You circle his thoughts another time— you’re going to be so pissed. 

“But you want it to happen again,” Gareth says, his ever living smile creeping into his voice.

Of course he wants it to happen again— he would be an idiot to not want it to happen again but that’s not what this is about— this is about him salvaging this conversation. Fixing his idiot mistake so that you don’t rip him a new one. Obviously, they would have found out this bit of information eventually… but you said this would happen. You called it— you explicitly said that this would happen, and that if he does ‘squeal like a pig to the guys’… you never finished your threat, you just shook your head. Fuck. 

“Jesus Christ. I liked when you guys were scared of me, college made you too bold,” Eddie groans, feeling his crushing reality start to set in. 

“Man, this is like a decade in the works, fucking finally,” Gareth laughs. Jeff unashamedly agrees, nodding heavily, until Eddie reaches over, hitting him on the shoulder.

“‘Fucking finally’ nothing. It happened once, that’s it. And you know she would hate us talking about this, so drop it. Please.”

“‘Please’?” Gareth laughs. “You’re down bad, huh— must really be hoping for a second time.” 

Second meaning fourth time… yeah at this rate, it’s not looking too good for him, not after this.

●・○・●・○・●・

hope you likedddd it <333

[dadsbongos]

why did you ask me out? (5)

1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / chapter 5 - background characters to commercial lines

4.2K words

warnings - jason is homophobic again, attempted outing (jason), extreme bullying, blood, speedrun enemies to friends to lovers trope

summary - You and Chrissy are long-lost best friends that join sides to pull one over on the girls hoping to make you prom queen as a bet. Things don't always go to plan - sometimes you realize you're in love and sometimes the girls shoot back at you.

~~

“Our prom royalty of the evening,” he smiles at the students and holds up a stack of ballots as if anyone could read them, “Jason Carver and…” he searches the crowd for you and tosses his arm out while calling your name, “King and queen of Hawkins High!”

The applause is scattered, slow, confused.

“Hope you don’t mind,” Jason mutters, looping his elbow with yours and practically dragging you up the stairs, “I took the liberty of being your king for the night,” when you chance a look at him, he’s staring right back at you, “Not that you want a king, though, do you?”

Your eyes widen, “What?”

“I always thought the rumors were that,” he shrugs as you two step onto the stage, he stands in front of you. Deceivingly gentle hands settle atop your shoulders, and he leans in to make it look like he’s kissing your cheek, “but you’re trying to turn my Chris to evil, and I know now. You’re cruel, for trying to turn her against God.”

“Jason- “

A sash is lovingly draped over your chest, a crown laid upon your head, and a bouquet held before you. 

“Congrats,” Stacey Bennet smiles - genuinely smiles - at you as you take the bouquet and presses an actual kiss to your cheek, “you deserve it.”

In the future, she’ll hope you know that she didn’t know what was coming to you next.

Jason reaches over to squeeze your arm, leaning in, “You deserve this.”

Maybe in another life, this is a nice moment. Maybe in another life you and Chrissy never split up and everybody took the time to get to know you because Chrissy insisted they did. Everybody took the time to unlearn their fears and hatred and grew to love you like Chrissy loves you.

“Jason- !“

But this isn’t another life. It's yours, and yours is a cold tomb halfway from falling shut.

Your heart wrenches. Not this again. It’ll be different coming from Jason Carver this time. It won’t go away and people will believe it this time - more than last time. It’s the second time anyway, this time they’ll know for sure. It’ll escape the school grounds. Your parents will hear about it this time.

“Thank you, everyone, for your kind votes,” Jason steps to the side as if to give more room for the student body to see you, like you’re an exhibit at the zoo, “I get to share the stage with this lovely young woman.”

Eddie shoves Patrick aside and scrambles out from under the bleachers. His eyes catch yours and he sees the fear he promised he’d never let you feel again after that night in ‘85. He tries to push his way through the crowding teenagers. 

“Where the fuck is Chrissy?” Eddie hisses to himself, desperately trying to get Jason off the stage before he can put the final nail in your reputation’s coffin. But he is no match for the banded shoulders and resistant bodies.

Gareth and Kimmy press off the wall they’d been standing at.

“Oh, this is nice,” Kimmy mutters, tugging on her boyfriend’s sleeve.

Gareth shakes his head, “Something’s wrong.”

Something is terribly wrong.

“Jason,” you go to step forward but Jason puts up a hand to stop you.

He laughs into the mic, “This lovely woman is born of sin.”

Your hands clench and you realize how pointless the battle of high school has been. There’s only a month and a half left anyway, you can bite your tongue until graduation and then your loyal four are free to run away in the van. You hope to God Chrissy had nothing to do with this.

You refuse to believe she did.

But you can’t see her in the crowd. She never came back.

Jason takes a deep breath and you clench your eyes as if it would shut out what you know is coming.

There’s a resounding gasp settled in part from each student’s shock. It almost tempts you to open your eyes and see what they see.

And then you feel it.

Like syrup it drools and like Niagra Falls it gushes. Thick. Slick. 

Lukewarm, and you hate to wonder how long it was sitting above you. How detailed was the plan? 

You peel your eyes open and blood drips from your crown, trailing over the lanes of your face. You stare down at the red that crawls along your skin. Your fingers are twitching. Your eyes dart up to the student body and you feel shortness of breath at their faces.

It was a bad idea to come. Worse than bad. It was like trying to take on the Tarrasque from the getgo of a campaign. Rot and iron sting your nostrils and no matter how tightly you seal your lips, the taste is burning at your tongue and the inside of your cheeks.

Not a single person is laughing.

For how much they claim to hate you, they’re all silent. Even Patrick. Even Jason. 

Maybe even this is too fucked up for them.

Maybe nobody knew about this except the ones who planned it.

Where’s Chrissy?

You want to scream.

You want to yell and throw a punch and huff and puff and blow the whole town down, but you can’t. You crumble and the big, bad freak everyone set up in their head topples over.

A few giggles break out now. The particularly cruel people.

You can’t scream, you’re stuck. A bucket clatters to the ground and you chance another look down at yourself as the telltale signs of Eddie shoving his way through a crowd break across the gym. 

The dress is matted with blood. You can feel the red slick drip from your hair and down your skin - it’s in your ears. You feel it between your eyes. You feel it drying between your joints. Your eyes sting and you can’t tell if it’s the force of tears coming through or if blood is getting in your eyes.

“You motherfuckers!” Eddie shouts and principal Higgins seems to come back to life from his shock.

Higgins turns to the crowd but you can’t hear whatever he’s saying. Your ears are ringing. You can’t hear Chrissy sobbing for help from the storage closet. You can’t hear Eddie as he slings threats and insults alike at Jason Carver.

His hands land on your shoulders and he shakes you, “Hey, hey!” your eyes flutter and you jump, “C’mon, we’re getting outta here.”

“Chrissy…” you mutter, head swinging to try and find her among the whispering crowd, “Where’s Chrissy?”

You swallow the lump building in your throat and the taste of blood is mercilessly tied in.

“I dunno,” Eddie hurries you to the doors, shoving back anybody who tries stepping forward (even though you’re sure at least a few of them are genuinely concerned), “We’re leaving, okay? We’re gonna get you out of here.”

Gareth and Kimmy rush to the double doors and slam them open for you and Eddie to run through. 

“Holy shit, she got Carrie’d!” a boy shouts once you’re all outside.

There’s a scream trapped in your gut, but you grit your teeth and swallow it. More blood taints it.

Kimmy shoots the boy the bird as Gareth tosses open the passenger side door of Eddie’s van, ripping off his tux’s overcoat and laying it over the seat. He turns to where Eddie is muttering to you, unafraid of the blood that is undoubtedly slipping from your dress to his white button up and jeans.

“I don’t wanna get in the van,” you shake your head, your lungs squeeze and you feel lightheaded. Your mind is reeling and your eyes clench - blood is definitely in your eyes this time.

“What?” you can’t see him, but you’re certain that Eddie’s brows are furrowed and his mouth is frozen open.

“I’m covered in blood, I’ll get it everywhere- I- “

You feel Eddie’s rings dig deeper into your skin as he squeezes your shoulders, “I don’t give a shit, you’re my friend and you just got fucking blood poured on you - you’re absolutely insane if you think I’m listening to you right now. Get in the fucking van, I’m taking you home.”

But you stay put, your arms fly up to cross over your chest, “Not my house, I don’t want my family to see me like this…”

“Alright, not yours, but get in the van,” he’s gentle with you as he guides you into the van, “Just try not to lean back and you won’t have to worry about the blood, alright?”

An unlikely outcome, but you nod. You rest your head in your hands and finally the scream tumbles. It’s raw and it rips your throat nearly sore. You feel the blood squish between your palms and your knees clench. Eddie shuts the door with a final promise to get you to his home.

Why this?

Why now?

Why you?

What the fuck did you do?

A few of the students hanging around outside jump as you scream again.

“We’ll get another ride,” Gareth has no idea how when none of the prom attendees even like him, “just get her back safe.”

Kimmy looks at you when Eddie runs to his van. You’re rocking back and forth and she watches your shoulders bob and she listens as you cry. Your sobbing grows in volume and a few kids stare. A few kids come running out of the gym and just manage to catch you crying as Eddie’s wiping the blood away from your eyes.

With a final slam of her body into the storage closet door, Chrissy plummets onto the hard floor. Looking up, she sees principal Higgins holding the chair she assumes was jamming her in. She wants to ask what happened and she wants to pretend that the gasps and screams of horror were nothing. She wants to act like the clang of metal falling onto the stage meant nothing. And more than anything, she wants to forget she ever saw the blood on the soles and sides of Higgins’ fancy dress shoes.

She wants to act like she doesn’t have an idea of what the people she called friends did to the one person she actually loved.

…

Eddie has more trouble undoing the back lace of your dress than Chrissy would have. You tell him that. He laughs but you can tell it’s only so you don’t feel alone. So you don’t know that he’s pitying you - but that’s the curse of being Eddie’s best friend, you can feel it in his eyes. When he sees the blood already staining your skin and he notices how you shake, you can feel it.

You catch the dress before it can pool at your feet and you’re brought back to earlier today, when you let your dress fall free and let Chrissy stand in the stall with you.

“I’ll assume you know how to work - that,” Eddie looks away as he waves a hand at the shower, “I’ll leave clothes on the floor. If you need anything I’m out back,” before he can slide out of the bathroom, he says, “And leave your dress outside the door, too.”

“You gonna save it, Eddie the Hero?”

“I’ll try my damnedest.”

That’s a gift of being anyone that Eddie cares about. He will give you his heart and soul and he’ll take on any task. He once told you that you reminded him of himself and part of you hopes he thinks you’re as kind as him.

He knocks the wood of the door frame and finally exits. You run the shower warm and abandon your dress outside the door.

Eddie takes the dress and your shoes and he fills a kiddie pool with cold water and lemon juice - something he knows Wayne will be on his ass about tomorrow (“Do you think we’re made of money, boy?”). But Eddie doesn’t care and when Wayne learns the why, he won’t either.

Your dress soaks in the pool while Eddie scrubs at the shoes you borrowed from Chrissy.

You wonder if maybe she did know. You don’t think so, or at least you hope so. Chrissy is softhearted and she loves you - loved, perhaps is a more appropriate term now - and she wouldn’t do this. No matter how much she disliked people, this evil was not her.

But why did she run?

She was staring off into the distance, you remember. Maybe she saw what was happening and ran. But why run? Why run if she had nothing to do with it?

You’d hate to imagine it was all a trick after all.

“Please, it’ll be fun, I swear - we can catch up! You won’t even have to talk to the others, I promise!”

“Just thought you’d like to go to prom with us. I wanted to hang out with you again. I miss you.”

“Well, that’s why we’re here, right? Make amends and such?”

“I want us to be kids again so that I can do right by you."

You tip your head back and work at scrubbing the blood from your scalp.

Chrissy was never a good liar. She had a specific tell - where she grabbed an elbow. There was no way she was lying.

So why did she run?

You’re dressed in Eddie’s Metallica shirt and a pair of his finest pajama pants - no holes or anything! - when you find him. He’s still sitting there, a plastic chair under him and a blood stained ball gown draped across his lap. His head is shaking and you can hear him muttering as he violently scrubs.

You let the back door fall shut and Eddie’s head darts up.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

You sit in the chair at his side and watch him return to scrubbing.

“It’s not gonna come out, Eds.”

He hates how quiet you are.

“It’ll come out,” he insists.

He’s been rubbing at the stains for over fifteen minutes with nothing to show for.

“It’s okay.”

He throws down the cloth and his voice shakes in a way you’ve only heard a few times before, “It’s not okay.”

Eddie looks at you now and he hates the silent solemness to your expression. The acceptance of your torture. You hate the tears beginning at his waterline. 

Eddie sniffles and presses his lips, looking away, his curls bounce as he shakes his head again, “Why is it so fucking hard for them to just give it up?” he returns his eyes to you and his lips are wobbling, “This was your night to just be happy and finally have something right and they- they, of course, had to ruin it all,” weakly, his hand fumbles for yours and you reach for him as well, “I’m sorry… I should’ve done something sooner.”

“Like what?”

“Just something- anything.”

“There wasn’t anything to do.”

“I could’ve been faster,” Eddie is not a crier, but his cheeks glisten in the moonlight anyway, “I just…” he squeezes your hand, “You’re like a little sister t’me, I just wanted you to be happy. To have something. To have a night.”

“I’m happy,” he narrows his lashes at you and you shrug, “I am happy. I mean, not right now. But I will be. I got you, don’t I, Eds?”

“Pretty shit deal.”

“I’ll take it over prom queen any day,” you grin at him, “Besides, how many people can say they’ve been Carrie’d?”

This brings the tally of times Eddie has cried in front of you to a solid five. When he broke his wrist. When Wayne got pneumonia. When Gareth’s family got into a car wreck. When he failed senior year the second time. When you got blood dumped on you at the senior prom.

“It’s okay, Eds,” you insist this time, you squeeze his hand, “I’ll be okay.”

His lip wobbles and he sniffles, “I love you, man.”

“I love you too.”

Eddie releases your hand to frame the blanket between his fingers, “What d’ya think? Banner material?”

His voice is still creaky and his hands shake, but anything to make him stop blaming himself.

“What?” you lean over and feel at the material, “Wanna make my prom dress the banner for Corroded Coffin?”

“Yeah,” he says it like it’s completely obvious, “what’s more metal than that?”

“If we got the pig they used.”

“How do we know they used a pig?”

“Well, if they didn't... Then here’s to them getting the life sentence,” you bring up your fist and Eddie bumps it with his own.

There’s the sound of tires on dirt - a car door slams open before the vehicle is even at a complete stop. When the car’s parked, there’s fists at Eddie’s door and you know exactly who it is.

You’re almost embarrassed of how quickly your feet move. Not embarrassed enough for it to slow your pace, though.

“Chris?”

The girl turns, wide-eyed and fists split seconds away from cracking down on Eddie’s door again. She’s breathless the moment she sees you and her knees shake as she climbs down the steps and falls into your arms. She squeezes you like she was the one hurt tonight and you can feel her body wrack with sobs.

“I’m sorry- “ she hiccups and squeezes, “I didn’t- I’m so sorry, I’m sorry.”

“Why’d you leave?”

Chrissy buries her head into the crook of your neck, her hair tickles your skin and her arms wind tighter around you, “I was locked in the closet… Nobody heard me.”

You look at Eddie for an inkling of what to do but he’s already quietly sneaking back into his trailer. You two meet eyes for a moment and you don’t waste a second to mouth ‘bitch’. He nods overdramatically and gives you a thumbs up.

“You really didn’t know?” you figured she didn’t. Chrissy wasn’t cruel, and she wasn’t a good liar. No matter what your scorned brain wanted to conjure.

“I didn’t,” you can feel her tears through Eddie’s shirt.

Chrissy’s always been a little weepy. She cries during movies. She cries when she’s excited. She cries when she laughs too hard. She cries when something bad happens to someone else. She cries when she argues (“wet anger”, you remember her calling it). She cries when there’s too much emotion pent up to do anything else. 

You’ve always admired her ability to let go and be unabashedly tearful. 

She’s crying because you were hurt and she couldn’t do anything and she just wants everyone to be okay everywhere, all the time. She just wants you to be okay all the time. And that’s not a bad thing. Not at all.

“If I knew, I wouldn’t have taken you,” she mutters once she’s calmed down a bit.

You didn’t even notice how tightly you were hugging her back.

“I know, Chris,” you bring your lips to her hair and press a tentative kiss to her head, “Let’s go inside.”

She pulls back and wipes at her eyes, mascara and eyeshadow smudging as she does, “You forgive me?”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” you take her hand and help her up the stairs to Eddie’s trailer, “I also wanna kiss you really bad but I don’t trust these people.”

Chrissy giggles and hurries into the trailer with you. The door barely slams shut before she’s pressing her soft lips to yours and trailing her hands along your waist. Your arms loop around her neck and if this kiss is what gets you sent to fiery hell - you don’t wanna see heaven.

Eventually, you two are situated back at your own trailer. Your parents are asleep and your bedroom door’s lock just got fixed - and you’d be lying through your teeth to say you two didn’t take advantage of that.

The next day, Chrissy will sit with you at lunch. And all the days following that. And Jason will be fuming and Chrissy won’t care. You think Mike and Dustin figure it out when they see the way you and Chrissy share overly affectionate glances. When they see the boys teasing you before they sit at the table. When they see you two sitting so close together that your legs are pressing together - just so none of the other students can see your hand placed on her thigh.

They definitely figure it out by the time Lucas builds the courage to sit with Hellfire again. Lucas figures it out right away - Chrissy was never once that close with her friends.

1988.

“Wow,” you run your thumb over the pink penned letters, “I don’t think I’ve listened to any of these in years. Probably could’ve gone forever.”

“Yeah, well,” Chrissy bumps her shoulder with yours, “you’re gonna learn today.”

“Learn what? The importance of Madonna and ABBA? And…” your brows furrow, “New Order - Blue Monday?”

“Yeah,” she looks up at you while you’re reading the song list, “maybe you’ll stop being such a music snob.”

“I’m not a music snob,” you weakly defend.

“As soon as you saw Wham! you cringed, I saw it.”

“Well, Wham! is bland,” you suddenly gasp and turn to your girlfriend, “The Runaways- Blondie! Hey, we’re getting somewhere.”

“You say all this as if you don’t make me listen to bands called, like, Blood Death Massacre or something.”

“I don’t make you…” you mutter, “Also, Blood Death Massacre was what I wanted to name Corroded Coffin.”

“Ew,” Chrissy yanks herself back, hands clasped over her mouth, “Really? Baby, you’re kidding.”

“I’m not, baby,” you grin and twist your body to look at her, “Let’s put this on, yeah?”

“You’re actually gonna listen to it?” she glows under the idea.

You shrug, crossing the floor of your shared bedroom to your shared cassette player, “Why wouldn’t I? My hot girlfriend made it with love, obviously ‘m gonna listen.”

Chrissy has always admired the way you love music. You seem to live on it. The only time you’re more alive than on stage, is when you’re with her. She loves music too, but it’s different - and she loves that you admire that in her, too. You support her through college - though you and the guys do occasionally tease her for being a theater major, of all things - and you support her for any roles she gets.

They’re all minor, ranging from split-second background characters to commercial lines, but you insist that her work is that of a genius. You say her level of recognition will be like if Jane Fonda, Sigourney Weaver, and Michelle Pfeiffer’s talents all had a kid.

Hit Me With Your Best Shot by Pat Benatar breaks through the apartment and your head bops to the music. You turn to Chrissy and extend a hand.

She can’t help the broad grin that drags over her lips as she takes your hand. You pull her close and twist in time with the rhythm.

“You like this song a lot for a metalhead,” Chrissy teases, but she doesn’t stop following your lead for a second.

“Don’t tell our record label,” you chuckle, “Corroded Coffin’s payin’ the bills, I can’t be exposed as anything but a strict metal and rock fan.”

You’re half joking and half not, fans can be insane at times - as much as you appreciate their appreciation. 

“I think you’d pave the way,” Chrissy pauses dancing to twirl you, “Like Joan Jett’s punk era but hotter.”

“That’s such a compliment,” you return the favor and twirl Chrissy despite the pop song not befitting such a move.

Corroded Coffin is doing bizarrely well for a metal band that started in Buttfuck, Indiana. You suppose it had something to do with Creepy Carrie, a song everyone thinks was written in the male perspective about the girl who Tommy Ross’d the guy being locked in a closet and unable to help as he’s humiliated.

It wouldn’t sell otherwise, so Eddie gets to take credit for writing it “based on your experience” - for now.

“When times are better,” you promised Chrissy, “I’ll take credit for the song. And I’ll make out with you on stage.”

She giggled as though you were joking.

When times are better, you and Chrissy will have the liberty of kissing on stage and holding hands on tours. She won’t have to be the band assistant and she won’t have to lie, she can finally just be your girlfriend.

Fuck “family values” and fuck the little black book people would kill you for not following.

“I’ll try and sneak something like this into the next album,” you tug Chrissy into a hug as One Way Or Another by Blondie takes over the speakers, “Less stalker-ish, though. I mean popish.”

“I get it,” Chrissy’s arms squeeze you into herself and she tilts her head so she can peck your lips, “What? You don’t want to sound insane in a song?”

“So much respect to Debbie Harry, but no.”

Eddie will more than likely reject the song as a metal puritan, but you might just have to release it as a single to fuck with him. Also because you told Chrissy you would, and you’d do anything to see her smiling the way she is now.

“I love you,” you take her cheeks into your hands and squish them as The Runaway’s Cherry Bomb sparks to life, “I love you so much.”

She giggles and pulls your hands back, she weaves her fingers with yours and presses another kiss to your lips. Her breath faintly fans your lips as she speaks,

“I love you so much, too.”

Why did you ask me out? you think of asking.

To get right here - where we belong. she would answer.

[chilly-me-softly]

Every Little Thing’s Gonna Be Alright • Chapter 18

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11 - Chapter 12 - Chapter 13 - Chapter 14 - Chapter 15 - Chapter 16 - Chapter 17

"Wow girls you are... wow" Ben is pleasantly surprised as soon as he sees the two girls leave the room. Deb immediately approaches him and the two share a tender kiss while Evelyn looks down embarrassed at the compliment, suddenly feeling in their way.

Eventually the three of them make their way to the lift and Evelyn's heart misses a beat every time the lift stops at other floors, opening those doors so slowly it tortures her again and again by showing people she doesn't know, before finally arriving at the right one. And so she suddenly decides to get herself together. She went through a birth weeks before and nearly feels sick about a guy. Absolutely not.

The room is bright and warm, not making her regret wearing a strapless dress at all. There are already plenty of people around, small groups chatting and laughing. Ben at her side places a hand at the base of her back leading them forward to find Gareth Southgate, Harry Kane and his wife a few steps later.

"Ben, good to see you. And with two lovely ladies I can see"

"My girlfriend Deb and my sister Evelyn" he makes the introductions after shaking his manager's hand.

"Oh Evelyn, nice to finally meet you in person. Congratulations on your baby girl" the girl smiles trying to keep from glaring at the guy next to her as she shakes hands with everyone there.

"I'm sorry if he bothered you. My brother doesn't know where to draw the line"

"Nah next training session he'll get what he deserves" Kane teases him making everyone laugh under his brother's mock indignant look.

The round of introductions continues as Ben leads both of them around the room. She doesn't feel as nervous as she had imagined, everyone is so nice and friendly and the fact that she sees almost everyone at least once a week via a screen has helped to make the environment even more familiar despite not really knowing them. But it's only fair because she finds herself on the other side for a few minutes too, experiencing what it feels like to be known by everyone but not be known at the same time. It turns out that everyone seems to know her thanks to Ben's big mouth but if nothing else that had taken the pressure off of finding conversation topics.

"You know who just walked in, get ready" Deb whispers to her while Ben is busy having a conversation with James a few steps away from them. And Evelyn does everything in her power not to turn around, clutching her glass of water wishing it was something more at that moment.

"Oh finally! You're always late mat," Ben comments as soon as he sees Jack, the two of them exchanging the usual handshake as the boy laughs. And her gaze inevitably ends on him.  

The suit wraps his body properly, the tie is perfectly done and for a moment she wonders if someone has helped him. But there is no one at his side and she feels stupidly relieved. Their eyes meet for a brief moment and that is enough to send a shiver down her spine.

"Jack, do you remember my sister Evelyn?"

"How could I not. I mean we spent a whole day putting that cot together, did we?!" he steps forward leaning over slightly to leave a kiss on her cheek. And as he does the same greeting Deb, a trail of his scent reaches her nostrils. He looks so calm, as if nothing has happened, while she is in complete shambles. Again.  

"How's the baby? I hope the cot held up. I wasn't so convinced we'd be able to make it" Evelyn laughs partly and mostly at the absurdity of the situation.

"She's fine. And the cradle too, it's very comfortable. Not that I've... tried it out or anything" she replies, stumbling on a few words, wanting to facepalm herself, miming a gritted 'help me' to Deb when she's sure no one's looking.

"I need a refill. Eve are you coming with me?" Deb points to her glass before taking the girl under her arm and heading for the small bar area.

Evelyn sighs relieved once she walks away as Deb laughs, "Girl you are so hopeless"

"God why do I have to be so stupid?"

"Did I ever tell you about how I met your brother?" Evelyn shakes her head, interested in the story. Her brother had never been a fan of gossip, it was bad enough that he had let them know he was seeing someone let alone the whole story of how it happened.

"I was out with my friends and I was trying to impress this guy"

"You hooked up with my brother when you were interested in someone else?!" she asked amused as Deb shushed her with a hand gesture, taking the full glass and moving a little further aside.

"Let me finish. Anyway what I was saying, oh yeah I was trying to impress this guy. Nice looking bloke... but apparently he didn't see me. I reckon I spent hours dancing, fooling around with my friends trying to get his attention. But nothing"

"Until I practically ran into this guy who smiles at me and says you know it's not worth wasting time on someone who doesn't want you the way you want him"

"Ben" she states almost unnecessarily but Deb nods anyway smiling.

"Turns out he'd been watching me all night instead, only I was too busy being a fool to notice"

"So you're saying I need to look over?" Deb almost rolls her eyes in exasperation.  

"No. I'm telling you to open your eyes and look around. You feel stupid because you're trying so hard to hide your feelings. Let yourself go. If it goes well you'll have a decent person by your side, if it goes wrong... you'll get back up as usual"

"And if you're going to say you have a baby girl, I'm going to slap you. Right here in front of everyone" Evelyn immediately shuts her mouth, not wanting to challenge the girl who is more than capable of doing such a thing.

"You really know how to comfort people" she comments instead sarcastically glaring at her, trying to make her feel guilty at least a little.

"You don't need comfort, just a little push" she winks at her before they are interrupted by Ben dragging his girlfriend away to dance after making sure once again that everything is fine.

Evelyn stands there watching the two of them sway mindlessly in the middle of the dance floor and smiles. She remembers the first wedding their parents decided they were old enough to attend, how they hid under a table for almost half the reception to escape the entertainer and how Ben swore he would never dance like the groom and bride that day because 'too close, too much contact yuck'.

"What are you drinking?" a voice brings her back down to earth and when she turns her head she finds Jack at her side leaning against that counter with absolute nonchalance.

"Water"

"Oh. It definitely takes a bit of alcohol to get through these nights" he says with a hint of hilarity ordering a beer from the person behind the bar.

"I can't. I haven't touched a drop in ages now and I don't fancy making a fool of myself in front of everyone thanks"

"Something interesting. Sure you don't want some?"

"I'm glad my public humiliation excites you so much" Jack laughs before bringing the freshly served bottle closer to his lips.

"Besides, it doesn't seem to me they're forcing you to attend"

"I was so close to not coming in fact. Then I heard you were going to be there" their gazes intertwine as she tries to figure out if he's messing with her or if by some strange twist of fate she's misunderstood. But it's all there, in his ever so penetrating eyes. If she chooses not to see it, it's up to her.

"Are you two getting friendly?" she almost jumps on the spot not having heard him coming as Jack imperceptibly straightens his back.

"Something like that" Jack takes a long swig from his bottle, "I was just telling your sister that without alcohol these evenings are pretty boring"

"You're going to have to start looking for someone or we're going to start calling you Jack the boozer" Ben jokes as Deb scolds him for being rude and Jack shoots Evelyn a look before scoffing at him and taking another sip of that beer.

-

The first thing she thinks of as soon as the signal comes that they can leave is to run to her room as fast as she can to get rid of those heels. She had forgotten how confident they made her feel but also how uncomfortable they were after a while. That's why when Ben and Deb suggest her to go get something to eat with them, she flatly refuses. It's okay, she had a good night at the end and they deserve some time alone too without having to babysit her.

She heads for the lift as the two then head for the hotel exit, not taking long to get into the cubicle. Almost as the doors are about to close a hand blocks them and two people enter the lift. The door is about to close again but it's blocked again and she's about to huff loudly, dreading her plan, when her gaze meets Jack's. He approaches her as the doors finally close and the lift begins its ascent.

There is silence in the cubicle, Evelyn keeps her eyes on the display showing the current floor number, swaying slightly on her knees. When she feels something brush her hand along her side, first imperceptibly, so much so that she thinks she imagined it, then more firmly. The pinkie of Jack's hand searches for hers before intertwining and stupidly something inside her bursts, radiating a sudden warmth.

She doesn't look at him, instead keeping her gaze fixed on that number that keeps going up slowly. But she doesn't even do anything to interrupt that moment, enjoying the warmth released by that contact no matter how small and everything else.

The lift doors suddenly open and before she can realize it, the grip on her hand tightens and she finds herself in a hallway being led by Jack.

"What are you doing that's not my plan" she states confused but offering no resistance, curious as to what he might be up to.

"It's mine" he just says turning his head towards her for a second before taking the key card with his free hand and stopping in front of a door.

"I just want to spend some time with you. I can't waste this opportunity" he admits sincerely and she simply smiles at him waiting for him to open that door.

When she walks inside the first thing she does is let herself fall on the bed kicking off her heels, moaning at the feeling of freedom as Jack smiles closing the door behind him.

"Don't you dare use that against me. They were killing me"

"I didn't say anything" Jack raises his hands holding back a giggle and she tries to glare at him as he places his jacket on the chair nearby loosening his tie before sitting down on the bed next to her.

"Just know that you just ruined all my plans"

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. I could already see myself in my room getting rid of these heels and this dress, maybe a nice warm bath and a good refreshing sleep"

"Oh you can go if you want"

"Nah I'm here now" she says shrugging and he smiles before laying down next to her. They look into each other's eyes, both studying the other's face as if for the first time, until Evelyn sighs.

"I practically asked Deb never to leave me alone tonight and yet here I am" if she thinks about it it only makes her laugh.

"Were you afraid I might kidnap you?"

"That I might do something stupid actually"

"Like what?"

"Like be alone with you somewhere and-"

"And kiss me again. Is that what you're worried about?" Evelyn sighs closing her eyes but she can still feel his gaze on her, so persistent.

"Do you want to kiss me? Because I want to, so bad" she can hear his desire in his voice and she's thankful her eyes are closed and she can't see his expression too because that's the only reason she hasn't thrown herself at him frankly. She's struggling so much in that moment with her brain, and then here he comes.

"Can you open your eyes please?" he asks softly as she shakes her head, holding her breath when she hears him move.

"You know I stood outside your house I think for at least an hour that day. Hoping maybe you'd change your mind" he whispers catching her off guard, his voice closer now. And finally she gives in opening her eyes looking at him intently.

"Why?"

"Because whatever this is between us it's clear we both feel it Eve. I don't want to dance around it anymore"

"Jack I-"

"And I gave you your space because I knew you would need it. But all I've been doing is thinking about you, thinking about that kiss"

Evelyn sits on the edge of the bed at that point, leaning forward resting her elbows on her thighs and closing her fists in her hair. She feels him do the same as the bed moulds under their weight.

"You scare me. Because you make me feel things I thought I'd never feel again. Not as strong" a few seconds pass in which silence is the main protagonist, before he changes position kneeling in front of her. His hands go to release her hair from that hold, fingers to intertwine with each other.

"I know it's hard to trust and letting you go again after a breakup"

"That's the problem. I feel like I can trust you and that scares me because with Lucas I... we shared so much in such a short time and I even thought I loved him, and with you... I don't want that to happen again, I couldn't bear it"

"Little by little, allow yourself to be happy again. Let me in Eve" Evelyn's body comes forward imperceptibly as she pulls her hands from Jack's grasp, laying them immediately afterwards on his cheeks to pull him to her and make their lips meet. She stops thinking for once, following her feelings. And if she doesn't feel on the clouds, she doesn't know what describes that moment frankly.

"You don't know the confusion in my head right now" she giggles, resting her forehead against his. "I really want to turn my brain off sometimes"

"Oh I'm here for that" Jack grins mischievously pushing Evelyn backwards suddenly, causing her to lose her balance, and lie down next to her as she lets out a choked squeal in surprise before laughing. He moves closer to her again connecting their lips together smiling, he can't help but want more and more.

They can't break away but at the same time Evelyn doesn't want to rush things so she puts some space between them, deciding to take off that dress to get more comfortable and borrowing something from Jack's suitcase. She takes her time in the en-suite bathroom, sorting herself out and admiring in the mirror how those clothes are soaked in the boy's scent and she brings them to her nose stupidly before shaking her head and getting out of there.

Jack has changed too in the meantime, ditching his fancy shirt and trousers for something more comfortable, getting into bed and fiddling with his phone while waiting for her. It's a bit late but neither of them wants to close their eyes because it would mean ending the day and leaving, parting ways again.

"What will happen once we leave this room?" Evelyn voices her thoughts with a sigh causing him to look up from his phone which is immediately pushed aside.

"Come here" Jack holds out his hand to her and she walks over to him settling on his lap and letting his arms wrap around her.

"I'll tell you what's going to happen. You're gonna go back to your beautiful little girl and cuddle her because you've missed her so much and I'm gonna go back to my house and let my dog do that" the girl laughs as he leaves a kiss on her temple, "But we're gonna do everything we can to keep in touch like before or even more because I'm not leaving you now, that's for sure"

"Sorry, I just seem to need some comfort all the time"

"I'm here to give it to you. Whenever you need it. We said little by little right?" she kisses him again and each time a smile arises spontaneously on her lips. It's absurd, at the beginning of the day she had wished for it to pass as quickly as possible so she could go home to her little girl, but now she wishes it would last a little longer so she wouldn't have to be separated from Jack. To stay in that bubble they have created for themselves in those hours and in which they are so comfortable.

They talk and talk over and over until the yawns outweigh the words and then they give up, holding each other for what's left of the night taking all they can before they inevitably burst that bubble and test themselves in the tangled world they live in.

----

Tag: @alexajanecollins @emwritesfootball @rosie7703

Chapter 19

[dreamy--dolly]

i figured i’d try and explain the general storyline of my version of arthuriana canon here minus the side adventures, so... let’s go!

(lots of... potentially upsetting material under the cut. also it’s long, so be warned)

part i - the lost king

- 15 y/o arthur is currently crowned king of the britons, with merlin as his advisor and kay as one of his first knights. he’s known for being genuinely kind and benevolent, if not someone with very simple wants for himself considering his upbringing - i.e., a rather content person.

- anyways, the britons are dealing with some conflict from the orkney clan: king lot and his wife morgause, with their four sons: gawaine (age 14), agravaine (age 12), and gaheris and gareth (newborn twins)

- this arc alternates from the perspectives of gawaine and arthur, arthur dealing with talking to one of his up-and-coming knights - the 16-year-old lancelot, who’s absolutely soft for him. there’s some political stuff and fighting.

- it’s revealed to us by gawaine of arthur’s origins: uther and merlin scheming to trick igraine into marrying him after killing her husband gorlois, upon after which igraine - separated from her three daughters elaine, morgan, and morgause - commits suicide.

- anyways, at the end - after about a year - morgause ends up asking for a truce after lot gets killed, inviting arthur over to orkney for political discussion. he agrees, and... well... morgause... takes advantage of arthur. the thing is, though, while morgause has arthur restrained via magic, he knows what’s going on and wants to get out of it. it’s pretty disgusting.

- this whole thing ends up with the birth of mordred, a year younger than the orkney twins (gaheris and gareth).

part ii - the faux knight

- several years later, arthur has assembled some knights at the round table: sir lancelot, sir gawaine, sir agravaine, sir kay, sir dinadan and several others. lancelot ends up going on a quest to help out the maiden elaine of corbenic, and - you know how that happened with arthur and morgause? replace them now 18-year-old lancelot and elaine of corbenic who’s the same age, and that’s our scenario. doesn’t make it any less creepy and disgusting, though!

- this results in the birth of galahad, who elaine brings to camelot, thinking that it’ll be a great idea even though lancelot is strictly a one-queen guy. lancelot doesn’t really... go mad per se, but has an anxiety attack when he finds out that he’s a father now. 

- this marks lancelot and arthur as foils: in terms of sexuality lancelot becomes a lot more open about it, because he has this lingering fear of “what happens if i say no?” from his situation with elaine, while arthur becomes a whole lot more closed off. dinadan is one of the very few people aside from arthur and guinevere lancelot feels genuinely comfortable around, because for all his tomfoolery dinadan stops and asks lancelot questions to make sure he’s respecting his boundaries.

- years pass, and when mordred is seven years old, he’s sent to camelot along with gareth and gaheris who are eight, where arthur realizes his origin and in spite of everything wants to try and be a good father. it wasn’t mordred’s fault, and the sins of the parent should not be placed on the child. as good of a person as arthur is, and as everything seems to be going okay for mordred, he still has a WHOLE bunch of lingering trauma due to morgause’s god-awful treatment of him.

- galahad and percival meet at camelot shortly thereafter, when mordred is fourteen and they’re respectively twelve. in the time he met galahad when they were very young - galahad was also sent to camelot when he was about seven - he’d developed feelings for him, unfortunately these feelings are unrequited because galahad and percival have feelings for each other. but mordred still tries to respect his boundaries and successfully does.

- then comes the grail quest, when galahad and percival are eighteen and bors comes into the picture. lancelot becomes resentful of his son, feeling that whatever potential he had was “stolen” from him by galahad, but internalizes it all.

- the grail quest... ends badly. after a fight with lancelot, galahad storms off determined to find the grail on his own and make his father proud. two years later, percival is the one to find galahad... dying just after he’s found the grail. galahad dies, and they return to camelot with a heavy heart.

- that’s when mordred breaks.

part iii - the blind prince

- in the aftermath of galahad’s death, percival ends up close with gareth. again, how romantic or platonic this is is left ambigous to the reader (gareval is a nice ship, though.)

- mordred and agravaine conspire to catch lancelot and guinevere together, and charge guinevere with adultery. gareth is the one who warns lance of what’s happening, and he manages to save guinevere from being burned at the stake.

- things are... resolved, but they’re all rather shaky of course. mordred gets so irritated that he plots to kill gareth in revenge, then percival, then dinadan... even though morgause is gone, mordred has never felt more alone.

- he goes through with it, deciding that camelot is a kingdom of corruption now that he’s “alone”. morgan tries to help arthur - her brother, in spite of everything - against mordred, but... they’re only partly successful.

- gareth dies, and percival - badly wounded - drags him away so they can both die peacefully. they’re going down together. they’re going home.

- mordred seems to gravely wound arthur in the final battle, but the funny thing is, arthur sort of wants to die. he’s not the person who deserves to be king, merlin ended up pretty much lying to him about his birth, and he really feels he doesn’t have much left to live for. it’s only when morgan intervenes and carries him away to avalon so he can go into hiding.

- gawaine and lancelot too go down together, having reconciled over everything. or rather, gawaine dies and lancelot goes shortly after he does.

- mordred’s rampage has ceased, and he goes through camelot trying to find guinevere so he can kill her, but she dies in a monastery

part iv - the girl of the island (my original addition! :D)

- turns out guinevere didn’t die without leaving her mark: she had a legitimate child by arthur, and died in childbirth.

- the girl goes into hiding with the orkney brothers, raised as laurel - she’s told that lancelot was her father.

- when she finds out her true origins, laurel decides she wants to save england from mordred and find her father again. which she does, but not without having a whole lot of magic adventures along the way.

- and even though she does find arthur and kay and some of the other knights, things... aren’t the same. so many of her father’s friends and family are gone, so they have a cracked kingdom to rule over. but they make do with what they have, and determine to live on in spite of it all.

[aka-no-saber]

Hey I have a question, and I’m not trying to throw hate or anything, I’m just curious. But why do you ship Cu and Mordred. I love them both, but I’ve never thought about shipping them. What do you see that I don’t? Also, any relationship headcanons for them.

It’s my own Twitter-thread, originally on Russian. I’m sorry if I made mistakes here and there while translating it and hope that my thoughts are clear no matter what. Well, to consistently understand, you should first pay attention to the characters.On the one hand - Mordred; all her life she floundered in blood and dirt, was the personal “executioner” of the king, was given a job of a people-who-hang-over-the-crown sweeper, and no one did respect her for the proper execution of that. Let us add to this the proud unsociableness of Mordred, her envy for normal people, mistrust with some kind of conscious isolation as self-defense, and a short period of life does not help here at all. Fact. Mordred lived just on the belief that she is doing the right thing in the right way because the right person wants it. For this faith, she received nothing but loneliness, fear, and contempt.So can you understand what am I trying to say? All who Mordred could trust I’m talking about Vivian, Gareth, her henchman — I based this conclusion based on original legend, it’s not surprising if in Fate Mordred was not given even that small amount of happiness died. When Mordred found out she was Artoria’ child, it was the last straw she could grab onto and that straw broke, and so did Mordred. Happiness. She almost didn’t know what it was like. “If I don’t deserve happiness, something so much beautiful, why should others enjoy it?” - she was overwhelmed with anger, despair, and she did what she did.Fact. Her rebellion was a rush on very strong emotions.Fact. She regrets it.Fact. She just wanted someone to share her pain. Someone very similar to her who might understand. She thought Artoria is that someone and it was a mistake. 

That’s why she was so excited about the pulling Kaliburn from the stone idea, exactly. It would be the proof that she is much more than everyone thought she was, that she is human and deserves a drop of understanding and a ducking happiness. Rejecting this idea, Mordred in some way forgives herself, she says: “I am not the same as before, and if you dare to deny it — then go to hell.” She wants to find her happiness somewhere outside her past, it’s rightly, but does it turn out for? No. Even after redemption, she is still lonely and unloved, the shadow of her past, which she would prefer to let go, is dragged behind her. She wants to be closer to people — but moves away from them. It is sad, isn’t it?Mordred needs someone to give her a hand, someone who will believe in her. Someone with whom she can feel easy, be on the same wavelength. Someone who lives “today,” not “yesterday.” Reliable man, in his manner sensitive, swallowed with life experience.So, on the other hand — Cu Chulainn. “Hero” in every sense of this word, balanced and “full”, not really tormented by anything at all. Honor, honesty, conscience. We take him, he suits us. © He is the shoulder that Mordred can not just lean on, she can crash into him with all her foolishness and childish and still resist. And yes, it sounds as if she needs Cu as a crutch, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, but no, dudes, let’s look closer. Fact. He could not take from most of the relationship as much as human warmth. He doesn’t have a heavy heart. He is an adult confident in his actions and decisions. But Mordred also is not a toxic dumbass, violent crybaby or A KID. Just a lone girl searching for a true friend and light emotions.Mordred needs silent, unobtrusive support with which she could keep pace with everyone. Cu needs company, with whom he could get drunk, laugh the way he wants, who’ll cover his back on the battlefield and would be near when it’s really necessary — or always. Fact. Cu can accept Mordred with her “today” without looking for past.Fact. Mordred can give him everything he wants.To talk when it’s necessary. To be silent when it’s necessary. To embrace. To wipe away the tears. To take a hand and walk side by side to the border of time. No one would pull back either push forward one another. They live just today.And that’s why I ship them. 

And I have a request. Guys, if you are interested in their ship, please let me know it anyway. Right now I’m writing a fanfiction about them and your interest would be such a great motivation for me. Thanks!

[binch-i-might-be]

wait I lied that wasn’t the end of chapter two. it was literally a pov change I’m-

ok so pov change to Selena

you can really tell which family was my favourite; the humans are six people and have one pov character, the non humans are four people and have three (3!!!) pov characters

Selena remarks on both the human king and his sister (Oren and Teria) taking after their father in looks, so we can assume she’s met him before

wait I kinda like this, Oren is wearing his own traditional garb which was made for warm climates, his sister is wearing layers of wool, and the room is stifling hot which fucks with Selena’s head and is probably uncomfortable for Teria as well tbh. he refuses to adapt and makes other people suffer for it. ok maybe 2018 ray deserves SOME rights

“He wore the traditional costume of the Sadarkan monarchs–a layered array of lose robes in light greens and earthy browns, everything held together by a broad leather-belt around his waist.

His sister was more appropriately clothed in a thick wool-dress and overcoat, which she had taken off; there were multiple logs of wood in the fireplace, and the temperature of the room was accordingly high.

Selena was pulled from her musings when Morgan put a hand to the small of her back–she had gotten lost in her thoughts again. The heat was certainly not helping the matter.”

Selena talks about having known Oren when he was a child. look at me dropping hints at how old she really is. iconic

LMAO SELENA IS LIKE “tell me what you want right now I don’t want to discuss politics I want to p a r t y” I love her actually

ohoho we’re seeing some plot! the humans brought up what Morgan identifies to be a curse they found in the palace, in the wing where the kids live

the humans are kinda desperate, understandably so. a bit nerve-wracking to find a weird spell was cast on your kids

anyway Morgan agrees to try and figure out what it’s for and immediately descends into Hyperfocus TM

oh yeah I think I ND coded Morgan as well. on brand for me

we switch back to the kids and go into more exposition that isn’t even relevant? it was just a neat piece of mythology I’d come up with and wanted to share lmao

NOW chapter two is over

✨chapter three✨

Morgan has now dragged out like ten years of old research and is dead to the world. I definitely ND coded this man

Selena says she’ll go talk to her uncle about doubling guards around the city because she’s worried whoever cast the curse followed the kids up there. fuck she’s hot AND smart. amazing

we switch to the kids. Gareth and Daragh keep flirting out of earshot and Cal doesn’t even fucking realise it when Daragh basically asks Gareth on a date I- (he asks him to spar and Gareth thinks that’s so fucking funny and invites everyone else along because he’s an agent of chaos)

hmm worldbuilding, exposition, religion, blah blah blah

it gets late, they leave the mountain, and the human kids find out Gareth and Lia don’t actually live in the keep they’re all staying in but down in town with everyone else. the system of this monarchy was so fucking bizarre tbh, it was more of a “modern politician” approach? where the monarch does hold power, but otherwise they’re just living a normal life

they go back inside, talk about how they’re cold as shit and why Gareth and Lia aren’t, and the conversation turns to Morgan

Lia confirms he’s a sorcerer and Daragh immediately starts beef. pls sir we’re just trying to vibe here

Lia let out a harsh breath and stormed past him. Gareth focused on Daragh, still entirely unimpressed, and said, »You don't know our father. You imply something like that again and two very angry women will come for your throat,« he paused, judging Daragh's reaction. »This is a warning, not a threat.«

He smiled; it was the first genuine smile Cal had seen from him, without any playful quality to it. 

Gareth is such a funny bitch

LMAOOO the human kids are left alone for a moment and Daragh’s little sister chews him the FUCK out. she goes straight for his jugular this is great

end chapter three ;)

ok so I’m rereading an old original project rn that I was working on around 2018/19 and maybe even a bit into 2020? anyway my point is it’s not even OLD old, and yet as I’m reading through it, my mind is making all these little tweaks and corrections.

sometimes you gotta remind yourself how much you grow as a writer within a relatively short time :)

ok enough sap tho, let’s get into this bitch as if I’m reviewing a bad fanfic, let’s GOOOO

✨chapter one✨

oh no. too many characters to start with

like the story is centered around two families, we start off with the first one, and we have,,,,, six?? six characters. right off the bat. that’s way too many oh my god

the opening is bad tbh. girl why are you describing this building. I get it you’re a slut for worldbuilding but PLEASE

oh yeah right it’s about two royal families and one of them visits the other for a holiday I didn’t get far enough into the story to incorporate

they actually don’t like each other tho lmao

lol these scenes add nothing

ok that was pretty much chapter one. not much happened <3

this is maybe the point where I should mention that this is a low fantasy project, and the human royals are visiting a different race of people

I won’t bore you with what they’re called, but what makes them different from humans is their largely extended life-span, reduced ability to feel pain, increased resistance to the cold (there’s A Lot of snow all year around where they live) and oh yeah. they used to live basically underground for thousands of years because they shared territory with extremely murderous dragons

but they fucking murked all the dragons a couple hundred years back! now they live,,,,, Outside. yeah. anyway :)

[lastgenpodcast]

Star Wars, Han Solo, Its Directors, and Kathleen Kennedy. What's the deal here?

It was recently announced that Lucasfilm and the directing duo of Phil Lord and Chris Miller have parted ways on the upcoming untitled Star Wars film centered on a younger Han Solo.  This announcement came via StarWars.com and has subsequently hit the echo chamber that is the internet.  The reaction has been pretty solid towards posing the question, "Is this worrisome?".  Sadly, when you look at the recent history of Lucasfilm and its directors, the answer leans yes.  

Now, let me preface this.  What you are about to read is not going to be an article claiming that Earth has burned to a cinder.  The film will still come out and the franchise will move on regardless.  Still though, what's the deal with the majority of directorial choices made by Kathleen Kennedy and Lucasfilm?  Kathleen Kennedy's resume speaks for itself and when she was announced as the new head of Lucasfilm, personally, I could not have been more excited.  This is the woman who produced 17 Steven Spielberg films, the Back to the Future Trilogy, Scorsese's Cape Fear, Who Framed Roger Rabbit, The Sixth Sense, and many many more films that fill the lexicon.  She understands everything a person in the film business can and she has handled large franchises before.  Perfect, right?  

Towards Star Wars, things started great.  A smart, if safe, choice for the re-entry into the Star Wars universe was chosen in the form of J.J. Abrams who has two very distinct talents.  Working with younger casts, and making a film comfortable to ease into.  He is a populist director with a massive amount of charisma and a strong eye.  To restate, his ability to get performances out of younger actors is comparable to that of Spielberg.  He is THAT good.  On the other hand, beside the dead horse joke of lens flare, he does not exactly have a style of his own.  

When you see a Tarantino film, you know where you are.  You don't need to be told it was directed by Tarantino.  Same goes for select modern day directors such as David Fincher, Wes Anderson, Christopher Nolan, and even Guy Ritchie.  When you walk into a film directed by these folks, you are told it visually and audibly.  Abrams, not so much.  He is a fantastic chameleon.  He has an innate ability to mimic film styles.  There is no better example of this then in Super 8, a film I really enjoy, which is a giant hug to Steven Spielberg.  His Star Wars entry was likewise in that it had his staple of young actors firing off fantastic chemistry but it still felt and looked exactly like a Star Wars film.  That is not a complaint either.  As I said, it was the smart, safe choice and paid off in spades.  The Force Awakens was a hit and besides some folk begrudging how similar it was to A New Hope (the mimic point arises again), it was embraced by the fans and movie goers at large.  

Following this we learned that Rian Johnson would direct Episode 8 and hot off the financial success of Jurassic World, Colin Trevorrow would helm the finale of the new trilogy.  In addition, Josh Trank was attached to an unnamed Star Wars project with Gareth Edwards earning the opportunity to show us exactly how the plans for the Death Star got into Princess Leia's hand with Rogue One.  This did not happen all in one afternoon mind you, but there it was.  A lot of wheels were in motion and excitement was high.  

Then Fantastic Four happened.  

John Trank had a fresh take in his low-budget, found footage, superhero film, Chronicle, but his followup film with 20th Century Fox, Fantastic Four, was an utter disaster.  Not only was the film a critical and financial failure, reports surfaced of over $100,000 worth of damages to a rented home, issues with the producers, and Trank being "erratic".  All of this lead to re-shoots that occurred only months before the targeted release date and many unhappy executives at Fox.  Let's be honest too, if the film wound up being a success, all the other issues would have gone by the way side.  Keep that in mind.  

With all of the bad vibes spreading over Trank and his behavior, he was bumped off his Star Wars film.  Lucasfilm was gracious in allowing Trank to state that he departed the project, but everyone knew the deal.  He had lost the gig.  The question then arose as to why a largely new, stranger to big budget film, director was even given the reigns at a Star Wars film with everything that was riding on it?  Sure, Chronicle is great but it seemed a large jump and may have hurt Trank's career in the long run.  

Then came Gareth Edwards and Rogue One.  Edwards got much deserved attention with his film Monsters which was a low budget indie hit.  It showed a filmmaker who can do a lot with sci-fi without having to show a special effects cluttered mess.  He followed that up with 2014's Godzilla which is neither great nor terrible.  It suffers pacing issues and dispatches the most interesting character way too early.  It also barely features Godzilla on screen, which I liked, but it did feel a bit empty as a result too.  After that, onto Star Wars.  The shoot of Rogue One had some issues at hand though and ultimately Tony Gilroy was brought in for re-shoots and was paid to the tune of 5 million dollars to do so.  Now, re-shoots are not uncommon, on the contrary, but bringing in another person on the paycheck of 5 million is not exactly common practice either.  We don't know the specifics of why Gilroy was brought in, but obviously the product at hand was not stitching together very well in the eyes of the producers.  In particular, the ending was retooled quite a bit, or all together depending on what source you read.  Upon release, Rogue One was a box office smash but definitely had its share of criticism towards pacing and lack of character development.  It also used CG to recreate some lost folks and the reaction was mixed.  Truthfully though, towards Tarkin, many people who were not aware of who Peter Cushing was and that he had died over 20 years ago, had no clue the character was CG.  Make of that what you will.  With all of those concerns though, Edwards brought a new look to the Star Wars cinematic universe.  It had a grit without being dour, felt more tactile, and improved upon the "lived in" feel that the best Star Wars film have.  Full marks to him on that.  Yet, despite the film being a box office monster and successfully introducing a new tone, the question remained towards the motivation on the heavy retooling and bringing in Tony Gilroy.  Was this another un-experienced director who bit off more than he could chew?  And if so, how did this get by the powers that be.  Maybe hiring the director who made heads turn by showing less and accomplishing more, was not the guy to then tell, "Show everything".  It seems an odd match.  

Now for the uplifting piece.  Rian Johnson.  The director of The Last Jedi, aka Episode 8, seems to have it all rolling. His enthusiasm for the project is addictive, his knowledge of the series makes him seem trustworthy in his love of the lore and quite frankly he is the best damned director of all the people chosen for this new run of Star Wars films.  None of the other filmmakers made a better film than Looper, Brick, or even his three episodes of Breaking Bad.  He also is the only director that I can sit down and get a sense that he directed it.  Johnson has his own style and it seems he was given the leeway to inject it into his entry of the series.  Granted, I am basing this off a teaser for The Last Jedi, but it feels different from the other "saga" films in a good way.  If anything, it feels very "Empire", which is exactly what most fans want to see and hear.  This choice seems the most inspired and fitting.  J.J. Abrams fit extremely well due to what needed to be accomplished, but this choice seems to fit in the effort and need to expand the films into a larger. more original, story.  

For Episode 9 we have Colin Trevorrow.  This may be the most head scratching one for me.  I get it, Jurassic World made a ton of money but I think the nostalgia machine was turned so far up, the film would have had to arrive on fire to not make money.  Nothing in that movie stands out beside the assistant woman being tortured slowly by dinosaurs who drag her over the ground and sky to eventually eat her.  It's a total rehash of the original with no new interesting characters or events.  More recently, The Book of Henry was released and the reaction to this offering by Trevorrow has been pretty harsh.  It's sporting a Rotten Tomatoes score of 24% and to quote one review (trust me, many echo this sentiment) it's "grotesquely phony and manipulative".  So, that's something.  I find myself in total agreement with an article recently written by Owen Gleiberman in Variety where he states, "To my mind, Trevorrow has never made a movie in which he has told a powerfully and convincingly emotional story. His aesthetic seems to lack the human factor."  Did Kathleen Kennedy and Co only look at box office receipts?  I understand the business of the business but making a quality flick also is good for business isn't it?  At this moment, I have zero enthusiasm for Episode 9 and many folks are starting to rightfully question WHY Trevorrow gets this honor.  That being said, PLEASE, prove me wrong and make the best Star Wars finale film yet.

Finally, we find ourselves five months into filming the unnamed Han Solo film and the directors just packed their bags and left.  Did it really take this long to realize a "creative difference" existed?  Miller and Lord have been making quality and bank off of comedies for the most part.  21 Jump Street, 22 Jump Street and The Lego Movie all have a great off-center feel to them.  It would be a good guess that they would bring that very approach to Han.  That would be my guess anyway.  Behind Rian Johnson, I felt the most excitement towards this match up.  Han needs to be a silly, fun romp.  Miller and Lord are a perfect fit for the need.  Again though, are the folks at Lucasfilm only looking at box office receipts and not the actual product produced by the talent at hand?  Were they unaware of their previous works and tone created in such?  What was the disconnect here and why so late in the game has it fallen apart?  

In conclusion, out of the 6 directorial choices made, he have one that never made it to production, one that required a second hand to come in for extensive re-shoots, another that left while approaching the finish line, and a director who has yet to make a compelling film but people like dinosaurs.  

Does this fall on the shoulders of Kathleen Kennedy?  She is ultimately the one calling the shots.  Her resume is beyond compare but she has also had the blessing of seeing Steven Spielberg in the directors chair for 17 feature films.  Is finding the right fit for this franchise proving to be a larger problem than anticipated?  I can't imagine so but based on the current results, that seems a question to be raised.  

In the end though, Star Wars will be fine.  Kathleen Kennedy will be fine.  Hell, the Han Solo film will probably be fine despite this development.  Too much money is at risk and mountains will be moved to ensure the investment is paid in full with interest pouring over everyone's head.  In closing, don't panic but definitely shoot first.  

[thebastardofgloucester]

More Thoughts on Rogue One

So I saw Rogue One again:

I don’t have any real revelations to expound upon - the first half is still a bit messy (though beyond the Krennic scene on Mustafar which we’re rather fond of I’m not really sure you can just cut out some of the planetary back and forth). The second half/last third really pulls the film together in some of the best action sequences I’ve seen in any war movie, Star Wars or no, but it also fails to resolve a lot of character arcs, which is...unsatisfying from a narrative nerd perspective but not really crippling to the film as a whole? In my opinion, anyway. 

- Jyn’s a flat character. I’m not sure if it’s that Felicity Jones is a bad fit for the part - they needed someone who did a lot of non-verbal acting and that ain’t her - but her character is choppily written at best, and wavers back and forth between passive and active in a way that just feels awkward when it abruptly switches. You have a bunch of character-establishing moments - trying to flee her rescuers, saving the little girl in Jedha, beating and gunning down stormtroopers, resenting Saw for abandoning her - and they just don’t fit together. At points, it seems like she’s a deer in the headlights, which makes some sense - she’s not a soldier, she’s not used to battle, to death striking suddenly and brutally - but it again swings back and forth and there’s no key determining factor beyond the immediate needs of the plot. And yet she knows her way around a blaster, she goes after that child (which is just wildly out of place and used as an excuse for Cassian to shoot one of Saw’s men, precipitating the group’s capture), she’s quite brave under fire. She’s established as initially cynical and apathetic about the Rebellion - for understandable reasons, though Cassian also rightly calls her out for wallowing in self-pity, which she clearly takes to heart.

Her transformation from reluctant accomplice to Rebel leader just doesn’t really follow.  A scene where she spoke with, say, Chirrut and Baze (maybe with Bodhi popping in) about their reasons for fighting the Empire, and she explicitly confronted her desperate need to redeem her father’s legacy and exonerate him from horrible crimes would have been a tremendous help, would have given Baze and Chirrut more depth (digging into their past service as guardians, their grief and Baze’s rage at the destruction of their home), and would have given some reason for the ‘little sister’ comment, which just feels so out of place because they don’t have that kind of relationship. I’m probably going to write this scene, honestly. At that point, speaking up about the need to strike Scarif makes more sense. Maybe another actress better conveys Jyn’s desperation and makes her sound less inexplicably confident. She’s not idealistic enough for that, change of heart or not. Fewer motivational speeches from her would have been a good idea. The one in the shuttle is the best fit - it’s full of desperation and anxious resolve. She’s addressing her men, not the leaders of the Rebellion. Basically, somebody else needs to back her case in front of the council. Hell, maybe Chirrut could have backed her up. That would have been another moment to establish their relationship. Jyn’s the primary protagonist, but she’s also not a conventional hero, and the film did not commit to that as it did with, say, Cassian. 

- Honestly, that’s the movie’s biggest flaw. It drags a bit, but I’m not sure what I would really cut. The trading port scene is vital to establish Cassian. The jailbreak was apparently largely a product of the reshoots, and that was absolutely a good call. The Jedha stuff needs to happen to launch the plot. The Eadu stuff needs to happen to raise the stakes, stage the Cassian/Jyn conflict, and kill off Galen. I *guess* the first Yavin 4 scene wasn’t entirely necessary, but it would be hard to do without it, and it does a lot of worldbuilding for the ANH-era Rebellion. 

- The movie isn’t terribly interested in preserving the scale of the GFFA - unless Eadu, Scarif, and Yavin 4 are within the same star cluster or something, the Rebel forces have at most a few hours travel time and that does’t make much sense. It’s not that Star Wars has ever cared about those kinds of logistics (save a few novels), but somehow the planet jumping makes it more obvious.

- The space battle is still astounding, and the Pacific Front-inspired beach scenes aren’t far behind. Just the perfect use of CGI, practical effects, and storytelling to create truly spectacular scenes. Also nice to see Rebel women pilots, though they pretty much all die.

- Bodhi has the most complete and coherent character arc, and given the time constraints, it’s actually a pretty good one. His sacrifice is poignant, even if his death is surprisingly pedestrian (which is by no means a bad thing - it adds a layer of realism to the combat that people just die). K2-SO has something resembling an arc. Cassian is the deepest character, even if a few more exchanges with Jyn or Bodhi or Chirrut could have helped make his inner conflicts more explicit. His relationship with Jyn actually worked better for me the second time around, but it has the overall vibe of ‘almost’ or ‘what if’ as it really should. 

- The movie does a lot of work in terms of world-building, and there’s loads of material for future films or EU media to take advantage of. I’m excited about the new in-between-the-OT Rebellion era. It might be a bit ponderous in the film, but it’s valuable yeoman’s work in the young new canon. 

- Krennic isn’t the most effective antagonist. That’s partially by design - he’s simply outclassed by the likes of Tarkin and Darth Vader. But in a moment where we might be able to explore his complexity with the reveal that his adversary is the daughter of his long-time friend and betrayer Galen he just...doesn’t really react beyond ‘generic Imperial villain’. That was a missed opportunity. More could have been done with him than having Cassian appear and shoot him while Jyn does her deer in the headlights thing again. There’s poetic justice in his being killed by his own life’s work, but it needs to be dwelt upon a bit.  

EDIT: my little brother suggests Jyn pointing out the Death Star rising above the horizon, as Krennic realizes that not only is Tarkin willing to sacrifice the entire base, but that he is expendable. Unlike Jyn, he is not ready for that brutal truth.

- In hindsight, the whole Vader in the corridor thing is a bit less fraught than I thought - the damn data tape is at the partially open exit the whole time, the dude with it just wants to escape. A better scene would be him desperately forcing the door open as his comrades try to slow Vader down, succeeding at the last minute before he’s cut down. All that would have been required is a few shots of the dude trying to force open the door, nothing really complicated. 

- It’s a bit weird that the Tantive IV, with Leia aboard, is waiting for ages inside the disabled Rebel flagship - presumably the data tapes take a while to transfer, but it seems like quite a risk. Plus there’s the ‘transmissions’ line in ANH which is now seemingly in error. Maybe the corvette is waiting on the fringes of the system, giving Leia plausible deniability? But that probably sacrifices the Vader scene, and I’m not sure any of us want that. It’s a hard problem to solve without retconning. 

- The Dr. Evazan/Ponda Baba cameo on Jedha is just not necessary. R2D2 and C3PO are acceptable - they’ve been in every damn movie and they have a reason to be there.  

- It’s a really good heist-cum-war movie, honestly. It’s got weaknesses in terms of characterization, because that’s not Gareth Edward’s real strength. It might not feel like ~Star Wars~ in terms of being magical space opera based on hero’s journey cliches and stronger characterization than plot, and might be missing the ‘magic’ or something, but it’s not supposed to be anything like The Force Awakens. I feel like a lot of the movie’s critics were just expecting ~something else~ and find the genre differences off-putting. I don’t. 

- Saw Gerrera deserved a bit more time - specifically, I think cutting his ‘what will you become’ speech was a mistake, though I’m not sure where it was supposed to fit? He’s a really really great character, honestly, and he’s vital in establishing that the Rebellion is a messy loose coalition of splinter groups who are at this stage very divided in terms of strategy, conviction, and morality. 

- Chirrut is definitely low-level Force sensitive. To an extent, fine, his sharpened sense of hearing explains his physical combat skills. But sensing Jyn’s kyber crystal, reading Bohdi and Jyn, dodging laser blasts, hitting stormtroopers on the beach - he’s not a Jedi, but he doesn’t really have to be. There’s another point of possible connection with Jyn - his faith in the Force would resonate with her memories of her mother. Again, just a handful of lines. Not a huge change. 

- I still think Chirrut and Baze’s relationship is easily interpreted as romantic, whether that was the result of the actors, Edwards, or Kathleen Kennedy, I don’t know. But it’s appreciated and extremely important. 

- Revised rating: 7.5/10. Could have been an 8.5, even a 9 with a more talented character writer and a more compelling primary protagonist. But it’s intensely watchable, really thrilling at points, fits seamlessly into the Star Wars universe, adds emotional impetus to A New Hope and the circuitous journey of the Death Star plans to Yavin 4, and Luke and Han’s subsequent heroism, and has a ton of interesting ideas percolating in the background. 

[anotherlifefic]

Chapter 37: Back to Life as it was

I took Link along on Glory, since Epona was still in the city stable, and together, he, Zelda and I made our way back to Hyrule. I took a long, deep breath of the fresh air as we rode along the shore of Lake Hylia. It felt so good to see the lush, green grass again. And the sun! How I had missed the sun! I looked across the lake and saw a family of Zora play in the water. If Link hadn‘t been in such poor shape after his imprisonment, I would have stopped to nap in the grass and maybe take a dip in the lake. Just enjoy all of the things Ganondorf had destroyed in the future. But Link needed to see a healer, and I wanted to see Gareth again. My sweet, darling son.

We only took occasional breaks, but it still took us two days until we finally stood in front of the castle again. We stopped when we noticed the group of people standing in front of the gate. Naboru was the first to notice us. „There are our heroes!“, she called out, waving at us with a wide grin. „You‘re all back!“, Zelda exclaimed. Her eyes darted to Impa, who gave er a motherly smile. „You‘ve done great, Princess.“ „You‘ve all done great!“, Darunia shouted in his booming voice. „Too bad nobody but us remembers!“ I shook my head. „I think it‘s better that way.“ Princess Ruto looked at me, still some hostility in her eyes. Then she turned away. „You did okay, I guess.“ I smiled at her. Princess Ruto and I would probably never be friends. But I was okay with that. „Memory or no memory, how about we celebrate our victory before everyone returns home?“, Saria asked. Zelda rubbed her chin. „I think I could arrange something. But all of you should return home, first. And I will prepare a celebration of all of your return.“ Then she turned to Link and me. „Would you mind staying in the castle for a while? Link probably needs a lot of supervision from a doctor during his recovery, and...“ She paused for a moment. „...I just really want have the two of you close to me right now.“ I leaned over on Glory, making sure not to lose balance, and hugged her. „Of course we‘ll stay, Zelda.“

I brought Link to the royal doctor‘s office. And while Dr. Tori was taking care of him, I took his hand. „Darling, can I leave for a moment? I want to go pick Gareth up.“ Link gave me a weak smile and stroked the back of my hand with his thumb. „Yes, please. I want to see him, too.“ Just then, Zelda entered the room. „That won‘t be necessary. I just told a servant to go fetch the woman who cared for him while we were gone.“

A few minutes passed, during which I almost cried from the anticipation. I had missed my little boy so much, and now I would finally be able to hold him again. I jumped up as soon as the door opened and the gardener stepped in with Gareth in her arms. This was it. I was just a few steps away from holding my baby again. „There you go, mistress“, the woman said as she handed him over to me. I had to take a few deep breaths before I could tell her:„Thank you so much for taking care of him.“ „Oh it was nothing. Your boy is such a sweetheart!“ I held Gareth a little closer. „Yes. Yes he is.“ Then I returned to Link‘s bedside and asked:„Do you think you can hold him, Link?“ Link held out his arms, and his eyes became watery once I had passed Gareth over to him. „Sorry that I‘ve been gone for so long“, he mumbled, gently rocking the sleeping baby. „I swear that won‘t happen again.“ Zelda joined us by the other side of Link‘s bed, and gently put her hand under Gareth‘s head to help support it. „Your son is blessed to have the two of you.“ Then she looked up, smiling at both Link and me. „And so am I.“ „Aw, Zelda. I‘m already sentimental enough as it is.“ Too late, there were a few tiny tears running down my face. I was just happy to have my beautiful little family all in one place again.

The days after our return were incredibly busy. All of the races in Hyrule were in an uproar about their beloved leaders returning. I helped Zelda with the preparations for the ball the was to be held in celebration for the sages while Link was still recovering from his imprisonment. And finally, the day had come. The most important people of Hyrule were gathered in the ballroom of the castle; ministers and priests and nobles. I was wearing my green silk-dress and Link his silk-tunic. It was pleasant callback to first days of our relationship. And we stood among the guests as Zelda welcomed each of the sages. First was Princess Ruto, wrapped into a shawl of sheer, deep blue fabric that made her look almost ethereal. Upon her head she wore a golden headdress with amethysts worked into it that had the same hue as her eyes. Then came Impa, dressed in an exquisite purple kimono with black cranes embroidered onto it. Darunia, without any ceremonial armor or clothing. He let his mere presence speak for itself. Little Saria, in a lovely green dress and a flowercrown upon her head. Naboru in her pink bedlam, but with a crown-like headpiece worked around the jewel on her forehead that let everyone know that she was the queen of the Gerudo. And finally, Rauru, now in his human form, wearing his usual clerical garb. Once they had all taken their place in front of Zelda, she softly cleared her throat before raising her voice: „My dear friends. Words cannot express the kind of joy I feel about your return. Your disappearance had left a hole in all of our hearts, and now, it is like each race of Hyrule has regained a piece that has been sorely missing. So let me say, in the name of all of Hyrule: Welcome home.“ „Welcome home!“, all of the guests said in unison; some bowed, among them Link and I. Zelda lifted her hands to gain the attention of all attendees once more. „And now, let us be merry in honor of those that returned… and those who now watch over us from the great beyond.“

As the music began to play, Link and I retreated to the sidelines, where Zelda stood, talking to Impa. The Shiekah turned to us and smiled. „The Hero of Time and his wife. Finally, we can meet in person.“ I curtsied. „It‘s an honor, Lady Impa.“ „It‘s good to know that you‘re back, Impa“, Link said cheerfully. „Well.. it‘s good to know that everyone is back. But I‘m sure Zelda will need you to watch her back for her while she‘s busy being Queen.“ „I‘m sure she will. I trust that you will attend her coronation as well?“ „Wouldn‘t miss it for the world“, I replied, smoothing down my skirt. The crowd parted slightly, and Princess Ruto came up to us, giving me a sour look and then turning to Link. „Link, would you please dance with me?“ „Uhm… I‘m not sure it would be appropriate, since I‘m married and-“ „I think it‘s a great idea. I was just about to ask Princess Zelda for a dance, anyway.“ I smiled. Princess Ruto let go of his arm and glared at me. „Link doesn‘t NEED your permission!“ „You‘re right, he doesn‘t. I‘m just saying that he doesn‘t need to worry about me being jealous.“ Link shrugged. „Okay, then I don‘t see why not.“ Ruto gave me one last withering glare before tucking her arm into Link‘s and leading him off onto the dancefloor. I bowed to Zelda. „May I ask for this dance, Your Highness?“ Zelda chuckled. „Happily.“

She was a fantastic dancer, and managed to even out all of my small mistakes. While we were twirling on the floor, we passed Link and Princess Ruto, just as it was time to swap partners. „Do you want to dance with Link now?“, I asked Zelda. She smiled and her cheeks flushed a little. „I‘d love to, but then who will you dance with?“ Before I could answer, the uncomfortably familiar feeling of scales burying into my skin interrupted my train of thought and Princess Ruto dragged me off, leaving a slightly befuddled Zelda and Link behind. Ruto wasn‘t as gracious a dancepartner as Zelda had been. Her movements were absolutely perfect, but she made no attempt at concealing my lack of skill. „Just so you know, I still hate that you and Link are married. And I still hate you. He deserves better.“ Her amethyst eyes bore into mine. Then she sighed. „But I also know when I am beaten.“ „Oh?“, I asked. „Where does that change of attitude come from?“ She huffed. „It‘s not like I can change the way he feels. The whole time we were dancing, he kept looking at you. He thought I didn‘t notice, but I did.“ Now she let go of me and disappeared into the crowd, leaving me standing awkwardly in the middle of the dancefloor, until I quietly slipped to the sidelines again, where Saria stood. „What‘s with the sad face?“, she asked kindly and motioned for me to bend down. Then she plucked a white moonflower out of her flowercrown and tucked it behind my ear. „Today is a joyful day! You should be smiling!“ I bit my lip, not wanting to unload my emotional baggage onto her. She had already seen and lived through enough. „Uhm. I don‘t know. Maybe it‘s just the stress catching up to me. There wasn‘t much time to unwind with everything going on right now.“ „Oh, that‘s understandable. Do you want to go out onto the balcony? Get some fresh air?“ I sighed. „I‘d love to.“

The sun was slowly setting, and I took a deep, relieved breath. „Ah… this is much better.“ Saria out onto the cityscape and then back to me. „And now, won‘t you tell me what is bothering you? I can tell it‘s not just the stress.“ „Well… it kinda is. And I‘m sure that what I just lived through plays a big part in it. But mostly… I‘m not sure where to go from here. I can‘t just go back to being the person I was before all of this started. I spent the entire journey doubting myself and wishing to turn back time and just be a farmhand or even a wife and mother again. But now, going back to that would feel like regressing. And another thing is… So many things happened in that other future that brought Link and I closer. And all of those things were erased now, and he doesn‘t remember.“ „Maybe he doesn‘t remember, but I‘m sure he still feels it.“ She took my hand and gave me a kind smile. „He loves you. I can feel it. Don‘t you feel it, too? It wasn‘t too long ago that this love was sown in his heart, but it took root and now it is on its way to becoming a beautiful tree.“ She closed her eyes. „Speak of the devil. There he comes. I‘ll leave you two alone.“ She walked off, and I turned my head towards the horizon again. I didn‘t have to see or hear him. I felt that he was there, his gaze lingering on me, before he came to stand next to me. „Are you enjoying the party?“, he asked gently. My lips twitched into a half-smile. „It‘s… overwhelming. How about you?“ „Way too many women want to dance with me“, he said, wiping some sweat from his brow. „I passed Saria on the way here and promised to dance with her later. But first, I wanted to spend some time with you.“ He took my hand and kissed it. „Come on. Dance with me.“ And before I could answer, he pulled me to his chest and led me into a slow waltz. I leaned my head onto his shoulder, taking in his scent, and just followed his movement. I was glad that nobody would look at us out here on the balcony. This was a private moment; other people would have just made it less intimate. This way, I could just bask in the perfection of the moment. Together, at last.