#they're probably living it up happily ever after and all that jazz | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

murdockparker · 2 years

Text

A Million Dreams

Benedict Bridgerton x Reader

Summary: He didn’t believe he could be so taken with her, taken with such a lady of the ton. If only she were to stay in London, stay with him.

Word Count: 3.3k

Prompts: 21. “You said you needed space. You were 5,000 miles away for a year, and you’re still unsure. I’m starting to think that an entire universe apart wouldn’t be enough space for you.”

80.“You’re a big piece of inspiration for this, honestly.”

Warnings: fluff, angst, heartbreak (still has a happy ending I promise!)

A/N: okay so, for the prompts, I loosely followed the first one (aka didn’t use it word for word lol sorry) so.... anywayyyyyy.... enjoy?

Courting came so easily to him, he realized. Benedict Bridgerton didn’t anticipate the possibility of courting this season, but when his eyes met with the ever elusive Miss (Y/N) (Y/L/N), he was smitten. Something in his gut was telling him to go over to her, to ask for a dance, to charm her off her feet. Never had he felt like this, especially at any event of the season, no, it was something purely chemical—magical, even. He couldn’t explain the draw to her—perhaps it was how her laugh that filled the room, or how her smile made him feel as if he were flying—regardless, he felt the attraction all the same and needed to do something about it.

A dance, that was all it took. Unbeknownst to him at the time, but she was just as easily bewitched by Mr. Bridgerton, something about the way he looked at her—about how his presence made her feel—she knew it was something worth exploring, worth humoring.

The exploration led a courtship spanning over a few months, both parties involved equally relishing in its success. Not only had Benedict Bridgerton found a person to whom he could share everything with but how freeing it felt to open oneself to another without the fear of rejection or humiliation. She became his greatest supporter, instantly falling in love with his artistic endeavors and passions. Never once did she complain about sitting for a drawing, no matter how long she had to stay still and listen to his gentle suggestions and poses.

He had fallen in love. He knew this for a fact and within the short months of their courtship, Benedict knew that she was exactly who he needed to have beside him for the rest of his life. He was on the precipice of proposing, knowing in his heart of hearts that she was likely to say yes.

So he charmed her into a promenade, a sweet walk in her family’s garden just as the sun begun to set, the scent of roses and wildflowers enveloped their senses.

“It’s a beautiful night,” (Y/N) smiled lightly, her face rather tight.

Benedict nodded quietly, reaching out for her hand. She took it without any hesitation. They both continued to walk, to enjoy the silence of the dusk and the rhythms of the night coming in like the tide.

“My dearest,” Benedict broke their silence, “I wanted to talk to you.”

“And I you,” (Y/N) said, gripping his hand even tighter.

“Is that so?” Benedict teased. “I suppose it is quite convenient that we are alone in the gardens, isn’t it?”

“It is…” she trailed off, her eyes wandering to the rather impressive statue her mother had commissioned for the garden not too long ago. Cupid, how terribly poetic.

Benedict felt her hand loosen on his, his brows furrowing slightly. “Is everything alright?”

She simply shook her head and sat down, conveniently on a nearby stone bench.

“Please,” Benedict kneeled before her, his hands atop her own, resting on her lap. “What ever could be troubling you?”

“My father,” (Y/N) said, her voice wavering, “do you remember him sharing about his mining endeavors?”

Benedict nodded once, firmly.

“His partners have come across a new place to mine,” she sighed, eyes pointed at their joined hands, “it is said to be rather prosperous, a worthy investment.”

“That,” he said, “that’s wonderful, my love. Your father must be elated at the prospects.” Her demeanor didn’t change, there was more to the story—hesitance practically swallowing her whole. “Why... why would that bring you down so terribly?”

She took a deep breath—to compose herself, in fear of letting tears overwhelm her.

“The mine is in the Americas.”

Oh.

“Oh,” Benedict’s hands nearly fell from her lap, knowing full well what his love was implying with the news. “So… that means…?”

“We are to move by the end of the week,” (Y/N) sniffled, pressing a gloved hand to her nose. “Father is already there and awaiting our arrival. Mama, my brothers and I are to meet him as soon as we dock.”

“You’re—(Y/N), you cannot leave,” Benedict rose quickly from the ground, “your life is in London, your life is here.”

“Benedict…”

“Your father simply cannot make you go,” he started to pace, “you are supposed to stay here, stay with me.”

(Y/N) deflated in her seat, posture becoming what easily her governess would have scolded her for. “My love, it is not as if I want to leave London—to leave you.”

“Then don’t,” Benedict said simply, as if it were the easiest thing in the world. He clawed at his jacket pocket, hand diving into the inner lining. “I had planned on doing this tonight regardless,” he sunk back down onto his knee—one this time—his fingers prying open the rather small box, “but it seems time is of the essence and… well?”

“Benedict,” she was speechless, her heart had leapt to her throat, tears already spilling down her face.

“I love you, (Y/N) (Y/L/N). I wish to spend the rest of my life with you, if you would let me,” Benedict—now feeling the tears well in his eyes—gasped for air, “we can stay in London—together—and build a life with one another.”

“I-I can’t—”

“We can elope,” he said quickly, rising back to his feet, pulling her up with him, “take a trip to Scotland and be back by the end of the week—wedded and happy.”

(Y/N) shook her head wildly. “No, Benedict, you misunderstand,” her eyes met his, “I can’t marry you—elopement or not—I simply have to go, my family…”

“You cannot marry me or you do not wish to marry me?” Benedict asked, his voice nearly broken.

“There is nothing more that I would do,” she said, raising a hand to meet his cheek, “than to marry you, Benedict Bridgerton. I love you, truly and wholly, I do, but my brothers need me—need their elder sister. My mother…” she sighed, hand sliding down to his chest. “She would be crushed, I do not think she’d fair well with my absence all the way across the sea—”

“Then I shall come with you,” his hand met hers once again, “I will follow you to the Americas, we can start our new life there.”

“No.”

“I…” he was taken aback, “no? You do not wish—”

“As I cannot be parted from my family, you certainly cannot be parted from yours,” (Y/N) said slowly, insuring her words were taken only in the most sincere of regards. “You also cannot just abandon the academy, Benedict. You spent so much time getting accepted—to build and learn your craft, you can’t just give up and run away with me.”

“But I would,” he said, his voice firm, “I would give up everything—everything—to be with you.”

“And that is simply something I cannot ask of you,” she shook her head, “as placated and happy as we would be, the guilt—heavens the guilt—would consume me, Benedict,” a tear rolled down her cheek. “Holding you back from greatness, it would be too much for me to bear.”

“That is not your call to make, my love,” he tried to reason, “if I am to live a life with you, I would never regret it, not even for a moment. You could never hold me back.”

Gently, oh-so-gently, she rose to her toes, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. It was sweet and light, the calm before the storm.

A goodbye.

“I’m leaving, Benedict,” (Y/N) said, a finality to her tone, a sternness to her words, “and I will miss you with everything I am and everything that I will be.”

Her hand left his chest, sliding completely off his form. She tried not to look him in the eye, knowing if she were to do that, she would fall apart at the seams.

He knew that she was right, of course, she usually was. He simply couldn’t leave his family, uproot his life and move to an unstable and unknown way of living across the ocean, worlds apart from the people he cared about most. Benedict couldn’t make her stay, he knew that much.

But she couldn’t stop him from waiting.

—

The salty sea air made her sick. After far too long on yet another boat—even though she swore to herself to never travel such a distance again—she had arrived back to England. It had been well over a year since she had traveled in the rather untrusting transportation across the water, so to finally step foot on dry land—on her homeland—was reassuring.

Something was nagging in her heart, a hope, perhaps. She had tried to keep in correspondence with Benedict, hoping to still have a piece of him all the way across the sea, but he never sent her as much as a note back. In total, she sent fourteen letters, each more lovely than the last. It was no surprise that he refused to respond—she had broken his heart, after all, but she persisted.

Thankfully, a few dear friends of the ton had kept her up to date—as much as one can, of course—with everything and anything that had happened in town. Sometimes they would include the elusive Lady Whistledown in their letters, just to keep things fresh. Normally though, they would keep tabs on Benedict, whether (Y/N) had asked them to or not.

So, thanks to her new knowledge and forced invitation by her dear friend she had been staying with, Miss (Y/N) (Y/L/N) was standing in the back of the room, awaiting the unveiling of Benedict’s latest works of art. He had become somewhat of a notable name in the ton—something she knew he could always achieve—and this was his first true gallery. Granted, it was held at Bridgerton House, so the gallery wasn’t known for being spacious, but it was impressive nonetheless.

How she managed to arrive at Bridgerton House without any sort of announcement or acknowledgement is beyond her knowledge or comprehension, but it was a good chance to be the first to let Benedict know she had returned. He was mere steps away, tucked into a small room off to the side, eyes fixed on a singular landscape, everyone seemingly enjoying the party elsewhere instead of congratulating the man of the evening.

He hadn’t changed since she had seen him last—save for the sideburns, he had grown them slightly, she noticed—but it had only been a little over a year, a drastic physical change was a bit foolish to be prepared for. But, it comforted her to know that Benedict Bridgerton was the same man she left all that time ago.

She could only hope his heart held the same impression.

A quick deep breath and a shaky sigh, she stepped forward. “Benedict.”

His face dropped, his mouth slightly agape, his piercing eyes meeting hers for the first time in a long time—a sight he truly never anticipated to see again. “(Y/N).”

(Y/N) wanted to run right into his arms, feel his embrace as she welcomed him again, but something seemed off.

“I-It’s good to see you,” (Y/N) managed to squeak out, pressed firmly to her spot on the floor.

“How…?”

“Father has found great success in the mines,” (Y/N) started, inching closer to him, “so I managed to convince my parents to allow me to return to London unaccompanied.”

Benedict’s eyes flicked to her hands—wrung with anxiety—searching for something intently.

“And your husband has allowed this…?"

(Y/N) allowed a small smile to curl her lips. “I am not yet wed,” she moved her left hand—so that is what he was searching for. “I came here on my own volition.”

“Your parents would have never allowed you to come alone,” Benedict shook his head, “you’re an unwed lady—”

“Perhaps I snuck off, then,” (Y/N) said, waving her hand, “regardless of how I came to be here this evening, I’m here, Benedict.” She had managed to step nearly to his side, looking directly up into his stare. “I came back.”

“You did,” he let out a shallow breath, “you came back…”

“Are you in disbelief?”

“I am,” Benedict laughed humorlessly, “I nearly mourned your departure on every passing day since you left, only for you to be standing in front of me,” his hand reached out to graze her cheek—to prove she was real and she was there.

“I came back for you, Benedict,” tears were welling in her eyes, she had held them back for so long, “should you have me, of course.”

“I…” he sighed, posture deflating, “I wish it were that easy, (Y/N).”

“I am not sure I understand?”

“You left,” his tone was pointed, “a-and you wanted nothing to do with me—”

“Nothing to do with you?” (Y/N) raised her voice. “Are you mad? I wanted nothing more than to stay and be with you, Benedict. It just…” she ground her teeth, “wasn’t in the cards.”

“And yet you cannot just show up—announced I might add—and expect me to just willfully forget all of the anguish I had suffered in your absence,” Benedict’s voice was firm, he was serious.

“It is foolish of me,” (Y/N) nodded, “I will admit my faults in that regard, but if I could have stayed—”

“I proposed to you, (Y/N),” Benedict said sharply, “I lowered myself to one knee and bore my heart out to you that night.” She stood silently, unsure of how to respond. “My God, I even begged you to elope with me,” he laughed, “if you truly wanted to stay and be wed, you had every opportunity to do such a thing.”

“That is unfair and you know it,” she sneered, “I couldn’t just leave my family—to go and elope with an artist.”

Immediately did she want to take her words back, shove them down to the depths of regret and anguish—but it was far too late for that. The damage had been done, Benedict’s face taking the toll, the brunt of the turmoil.

“Yes,” he said cooly, face unchanging, “I am an artist, a successful one, too.” Benedict dug one hand into his pocket, the other flying wildly to his side—gesturing to the landscape beside them. “Unless, you couldn’t tell.”

“Benedict, you know I didn’t mean that—”

“You were gone, for a year, thousands of miles away from me—from London,” Benedict sneered, his tone downright hurtful. “You had all of the space in the world to figure out what you wanted and yet you come to my home to insult my craft? The very craft you did nothing but support?”

“You’re right!” She had enough, reaching her breaking point. “I did have all the space in the world—the universe! Because of that space, Benedict,” she flailed a finger in his face, “I realized what I wanted and I was hellbent on working for it!”

“And whatever,” he said cooly, pushing her finger out of his face, “could that be?”

“You, Benedict. You are what I want.”

Benedict blinked once. Twice. He stayed silent, watching carefully as her chest heaved with every deep breath she took, she was serious. He turned on his heels, facing the lavish landscape he had been admiring earlier.

“You’re a big piece of inspiration for this, you know,” Benedict nodded to the painting, “for this and practically the entire gallery.”

She looked at the canvas carefully—it was a beautiful rendition of a garden, the sunset practically glowing against the blues and deep hues of the foliage. It had looked just as if it were a normal garden of the ton, but something was nagging at her, a familiar feeling. It wasn’t until her eyes locked into the statue in the far right side—Cupid—that she realized what exactly this piece was. Where exactly this piece was.

“This is… my garden.”

“The day you left.”

“It’s lovely,” she hummed, her heart somewhere between deflating or dropping, “the sunset… it looks just like it did.”

“It was hard for me to forget,” Benedict nodded, “the name of the piece, do you wish to hear it?”

“That depends,” (Y/N) looked to him, “will it hurt me further?”

“I called it ��Love and Loss’,” he continued, “no matter how many times I recalled that evening, how many times I was angry or disappointed in how things left off, I still longed for you. Mourned your loss, wishing you to return.”

“A-and the love?” (Y/N) squeaked out.

“Well,” Benedict laughed lightly, “I hardly think it is impossible to imagine that I loved you—that I still love you.”

“You still love me?” Her voice was hopeful, suddenly feeling as if she were walking on air.

Benedict enveloped her hands with his own. “Of course I do, I never stopped.”

“But you said that you mourned—”

“And I did,” he said curtly, “but even when one mourns, it does not mean that the love was entirely lost, my dear.” Benedict ran his thumb carefully over the back of her hand, tracing small circles as he went. “But you made your way back to London, back to me, even if you had done so without your parents knowledge or consent,” he pointed his brow, a trademark smirk enveloped his lips.

“I did,” she smiled, “how foolish of me it was to believe that I could continue my life without Benedict Bridgerton in it.”

“We are all known to be foolish at times,” Benedict nodded. She slapped him playfully.

“This is the part where you disagree and profusely tell me that I am not a fool!”

“But that would be a lie,” he mused, “because it was quite foolish to leave a man such as myself behind, I do believe I am quite the catch, would you not agree?”

“You are quite full of yourself Benedict Bridgerton,” (Y/N) smirked.

“But you love me for it,” his smile softened, “do you not?”

“I do,” she hummed, feeling herself grow closer into his touch. “I love you for everything that you are, everything that you will be.”

“So… it is suffice to say that you love me?”

“I…” a rolling laughter escaped her lips. “Is that not what I just said?”

Benedict leaned down, closer to her, inching his way into her personal space. “But my dear, after a year of a deafening silence and lack of your presence, I do think I deserve to hear it once more.”

“I love you,” (Y/N) said, pressing her forehead against his own. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

In an instant, Benedict closed the gap between the two, pressing his lips against her own. It felt like the entire weight of the world was sealed in this kiss, and in a way, it was. After a year apart—separated by an ocean and familial duties—the two souls found their way back to one another, destined to reconnect, to love again.

“I want to take you up on your offer,” (Y/N) said, hesitantly pulling away from Benedict’s embrace.

“My offer?”

“To marry,” she smiled lightly, “I do think my parents would find solace in knowing that while their daughter did flee the country and new home without their knowledge, she had a husband to take care of her in their absence.”

“A husband, you say?” Benedict grinned.

“Yes, I do suppose you know where I could find one?”

“I’m afraid I wouldn’t find you a husband here in such short notice,” Benedict hummed, tapping his foot lightly. “Not here, anyway.”

Her eyes landed on his expectantly, a glimmer of hope residing.

“But I suppose if we were to travel to Scotland, we could solve this issue rather quickly,” he nearly rubbed his chin in thought—a rather jesting gesture. “Do you not agree?”

“I do,” her left hand gripped his, holding it firmly, “I agree wholeheartedly.”

#benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton #bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #reader insert #is the title based on the greatest showman?? yes. yes it is #will i be changing it?#no. no I will not #ah so anyway... this hurt #but it's okay!! they good #they're probably living it up happily ever after and all that jazz #am i posting this on fourth of july and the reader moved to america?#ironic innit?

198 notes · View notes

beccanoodles · 4 years

Text

Spike and Faye Pairing Analysis

March 2021

Ah the hit or miss pairing of the century! If you don’t love it, you probably hate it lol. I’m a very analytical person so I love analyzing works of art and overall enjoy deep discussions about them too. I have SO much to say when it comes to Cowboy Bebop (and oh I plan to), but I have decided to start with my very own OTP. Here, I am not really going to discuss Spike and Faye’s feelings for each other, but rather why I think people are drawn to this pairing and why I think they're totally valid. Get ready for a long read!😁

⚠️SPOILER WARNING!!! [Major Cowboy Bebop and the movie Out of the Past spoilers]⚠️

First off, let’s clear something up. I am confident most of us can agree that Spike was in love with Julia. Some people assume Spike and Faye fans are deranged and disregard Spike and Julia’s romantic relationship to try and make something of Spike and Faye that never was. While some people may have their various theories and opinions on this, generally, I don’t think anyone denies Spike’s love for Julia. As we will see, this pairing is not really driven by who loves who...let’s first look on the surface.

I don’t know your experiences with the series, but in mine, every time I show this to people it never fails for someone to say something along the lines of,

“Wait, they don’t end up together?”

“Why didn’t he kiss her!?”

“He should have stayed with her...”

and so fourth.

Naturally, this pairing catches many eyes.

Think about it, you are given two really cool, really hot and really deep characters that are really fun to see together! There are so many parallels between the two and they are arguably the strongest characters of the bunch. Granted, you can agree with this and still not ship them, but these aspects are part of what opens up the door for many fans of the pairing.

However, there is certainly more to this pairing than them simply looking good together right? As the years pass and I’ve now seen the show multiple times, my understanding of it has evolved in many areas, Spike and Faye included.

Spike and Faye really couldn’t have ended up together. Sure, it’s a nice thought, but It would have been an entirely different show if they had. I don’t feel that the show should have happened any other way and I don’t think many other fans would either.

So, what am I saying here?

What’s the point of this paring if I don’t think they should have ended up together?

It is what's so frustrating about them, yet keeps you coming back and what honestly validates this pairing in my opinion. Spike and Faye are not driven by what is, but rather, what could be.

I personally feel the themes of classic film Noir are not discussed enough when it comes to Cowboy Bebop! This is one of the show's major influences, especially when it comes to the plot and characters.

One of the common tropes of a film noir is that of a protagonist who is drawn back into his past and ultimate doom, usually by the “seduction” of a femme fatale. In these movies, the women are either a femme fatale [devious, dangerous, mysterious, greedy, troubled, or unreliable] or a woman of virtue [reliable, dutiful, trustworthy, conventional and loving].

I am going to use the 1947 classic, Out of the Past to make my comparisons from here on out.

In Out of the Past, Jeff is a former detective who gets caught up in a love triangle between a gangster and his girlfriend Kathie, sound familiar? He attempts to run away with her, but is betrayed and runs off to start a new life in a new town. Here, he meets Ann and falls in love with her, but of course, his past catches up to him and he is drawn back into the world of criminals (largely by Kathie’s involvement). This ultimately results in his and Kathie’s deaths and Ann’s heartbreak.

Even though Kathie is the femme fatale in this movie, I found myself comparing her more to Julia’s role in the show, than to Faye’s and I found that Faye actually fit best in Ann’s role (this is a bit unusual considering Faye is typically seen as the femme fatale of this show).

Does that mean I think Julia was as ill intentioned as Kathie or that Spike fell in love with Faye? Well, not exactly, let’s look at it a bit further.

“The kind of beautiful, dangerous ordinary that you just can’t leave alone...Like an angel from the underworld or a devil from paradise.”

Most of what we get about Julia is from Spike’s point of view. From this, we learn she is at the center of Vicious and Spike’s conflict, but aside from that she is basically depicted as “The Virtuous Woman” of a noir. The colors around her are warm and she is shown caring for Spike. There is an innocence and modestly about her as well.

Yet, when we finally do meet Julia, we get a different image. We know she is tied up with dangerous men, but is she herself a dangerous woman?

She is certainly capable of betrayal.

Suddenly she is a bad-ass-gun-toting woman in leather and black, surrounded by hues of grey and dark blue. Intentional or not, Julia is a major part of what lures Spike back into the past and ultimately to his death. In this case, Julia is the femme fatale of Spike’s story and thus, their relationship is doomed from the start.

Faye, on the other hand, is portrayed in somewhat of a contrast. When we first meet her, she is the clear cut femme fatale, appearing cunning, strong willed and seductive. However, we soon find that she has quite a bit of kindness and naivety hidden behind her facade. She uses the former tactics as a way of emotional (and probably physical) protection. Gren points this out in his conversation with her.

Gren,

“You’re just afraid they’d abandon you so you abandoned them. You distanced yourself from the whole thing.”

As the show progresses, we start to see less of her “femme fatale nature” and something more genuine. Think about it, between Hard Luck Woman and RFB Part 2 we don’t see much of Faye as her typical conniving or unreliable self, aside from changing the course of the Bebop maybe. Sure she takes off, but it isn’t at all for the same reasons she did in Jupiter Jazz or Speak Like a Child, for example.

I would argue we actually see her more trustworthy and caring than ever. Since I don’t want to spend too much time talking about Faye’s character development (not here at least) I’ll give one example of this.

When she returns to the Bebop after her encounter with Julia in RFB Part 1, she gives Spike the message, even though the outcome might hurt her (i.e. he leaves and/or dies). While she does first say “It’s gonna cost you,” she doesn’t really mean it because she tells him without hesitation only moments later.

This isn’t to say Faye good, Julia bad. Both women have their layers and even though we know way more about Faye, I don’t get the impression that Julia is selfish and cunning like Kathie was. But I do get the feeling she was enclosed in a world of crime and betrayal the way Kathie was. We really only know the basics of Spike and Julia’s situation. Who knows the details like motive or how long it lasted etc. etc. We can only speculate...

There is a scene towards the end of Out Of The Past, where Kathie tells Jeff to go away with her. This time it is her asking him, just like Julia asks Spike. During this she mentions,

“I never told you I was anything but what I am, you just wanted to imagine I was. That’s why I left you.”

This got me thinking...did Spike imagine Julia as something she wasn’t? Or something he wanted her to be that she just couldn’t be?

It could explain why we get such contrasted images of her.

There are themes of this “dreamlike” relationship between Jeff and Kathie, similar to Spike and Julia’s “It was all a dream.”

The two of them were going to “live and be free,” probably something neither of them knew how to do and most likely wouldn’t have been able to get away with.

When Jet asks Spike if he can just forget the past, this is his answer.

Spike,

“There was a woman. For the first time in my life I saw a woman that was truly alive. At least that’s what I thought. She was the part of me I had lost, that part that was missing, that I had been longing for.”

I always wondered about this, because Spike is clearly talking about Julia, but right after is when Faye shows up. To me, that spoke volumes...

Faye is a woman who is terribly human and terribly alive.

Going back to Faye and Ann, I find their similarities shine not so much in the “Virtuous Woman,” concept, but rather in Ann’s dedication to Jeff and her optimism for the future. She is also the last person to talk to Jeff before he leaves for the final time, as if he were being presented with one last alternative. Spike spends his last moments with Faye as well, in which she basically begs him not to go and keep him in the present that she has now discovered for herself. She may be stuck, but she is definitely someone that yearns for human connection, love, and life.

The problem is, Spike and Faye are both set in opposite directions. Her’s leads to a future and Spike knows this because he points it out early on (My Funny Valentine). He also knows, his most likely does not. He has already dug himself too deep into this hole, if you will, that there is really no turning back.

But let’s say none of that was an issue? What could be?

I sat and watched this movie (Out of the Past) with my mom. She didn’t know anything about it and didn’t know why I was watching it. I wanted her genuine reaction. The whole time she was getting mad at Jeff until the very end. I asked her why and she said that she wanted him to be able to live happily with Ann. I explained to her why he had to do what he did. She understood this, but still couldn’t help but be sad at how things turned out for him, when they could have been good.

Even though Kathie and Jeff are the “lovers,” of this movie, you don’t really want them to end up together. Forget that Kathie has a devious nature, regardless, you know where it has to end and you don’t want to see your hero die.

Like Kathie, Julia symbolizes Spike’s inevitable doom and Like Ann, Faye symbolizes his possible future.

“I’ll be with you till the end”

“You’re the one still tied to the past Spike!”

“Why do you have to go? Where are you going? What are you gonna do, just throw your life away like it was nothing?!”

It’s two sides of a sad coin...

We want Spike to have a future and because we love the characters of the show, it would be really great if he could have it with them, but that is where the tragedy is. It's only an idea we can think about, a possibility presented to us as it was to Jeff and Spike before their deaths.

The bottom line is, when it comes to Spike and Faye you are really only given a taste. You are not given what you expect to see, which is why I say this ship is driven by what could be. As it is with most of the character relationships in the show, no major breakthroughs are made until the very end, when it's too late. Then it just feels like such wasted potential, but sometimes in life, that's how it is. And thus, we have been given a very classic noir here ladies and gentlemen!

So no, I don’t think people miss the mark when they ship Spike and Faye, nor do I find they invalidate the show by any means. I kind of like that Watanabe switched it up and didn’t do the expected, but left us those subtle hints. He didn’t outright give Spike another lover, but he gave us someone that represents what he could have. Kind of does that with the crew as a whole too!

UGH. I love-hate this show and I love this pairing! Thank you for reading my thoughts and I know this may not be the case or reasoning for everyone, but just based on what I have seen around the community and where this show draws inspiration, this is what I have concluded. I didn’t get into Spike and Faye’s feelings for each other because it gets a little more theoretical there, but I would like to do a post on my thoughts on that as well sometime. I also didn’t touch too much on Spike’s reasoning for choosing to face Vicious in the end, just because I know that will only lead into a whole other analysis lol. But you know I have my thoughts on that and certainly plan to share them 😎 Also, I know I basically spoiled it, but Out of the Past is such a great movie!! I think if you’re a fan of this show it's definitely worth a watch! There are so many more parallels to Cowboy Bebop that I didn’t even mention. Anyways, thanks again and talk to you soon!

#Cowboy Bebop #Spike and Faye #spike x faye #analysis #cowboy bebop analysis #pairing analysis #pairing #my ship #out of the past #film noir #did i mention #I LOVE THIS SHOW #YES i've been working on this for two weeks like i was writing a midterm essay for school #DON'T JUDGE ME 🤓😂#OOTP is really good watch it #last scene gives me chills😨#spaye #faye x spike #faye and spike

159 notes · View notes

victoria-daydreams · 5 years

Text

Skylark

GIF by @silent-force

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

Word Count: 1.7k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~~~x~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“ Yes,"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chapter Two

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

38 notes · View notes