#we need movies like this. we NEED them. no room for 'subtlety.' these stories must be told. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ryanmeft · 3 years ago

Text

Movie Review: Black Widow

The MCU will never be able to run with the true titans of popular cinema---it is simply too interested in being a billboard for merchandise and setting up the next movie. If it were going to decide to go for something more personal, though, Black Widow is almost kinda what that might look like. Buried, sometimes deeply, amid the acrobatic stunts, exploding enemy bases and super-powered fisticuffs is a real story about two real, broken girls.

The movie is set after Civil War, but in a great act of mercy towards non-obsessive viewers, the links to the larger Avengersverse are minimal. As we open, Natasha (Scarlett Johansson) has divested of her Black Widow identity and escapes from the clutches of General Ross (William Hurt), who you may remember from it really doesn’t matter. Laying low to stay off the government’s radar, she is eventually contacted covertly by her previously-unmentioned sister Yelena (Florence Pugh). Yelena has been released from the mind control she was subjected to by their handler, the shadowy Dreykov (Ray Winstone), who Natasha believed dead at her hand. During her release, she acquired the means to un-brainwash the other “widows” Dreykov is controlling, all of whom he kidnapped and raised as assassins from childhood.

Since Natasha has global connections and has evidenced an ability to find anything anywhere, it seems like the search for Dreykov should be relatively quick, but there’s one problem: the movie needs to be at least two hours long. To that end, Natasha and Yelena track down the Soviet sleeper agents (Rachel Weisz and David Harbour) who raised them as part of a cover identity, and the “family” sets off together.

One thing you sense at various points of the movie is that director Cate Shortland is spiritually yanked out of the director’s chair and replaced with compliant studio drones. Let me elaborate: when Natasha initially goes on the run, she retreats to a trailer in the middle of nowhere, her needs supplied by a convenient smuggler friend (O-T Fagbenie). In another scene, Johannson and Pugh have a chat at a crappy picnic table outside a dirty diner, discussing their respective pasts and lives. Eric Pearson’s screenplay is clearly steering the events here, and these scenes ring so true they could have developed into an entirely different kind of film, one where former assassins try to move on with their lives in an ordinary world where they’ll always be hunted just for doing what they were told. So tantalizing are these glimpses of other realities that I allowed myself to believe in them, though I knew the superheroics must eventually come.

Come they do, and at these points Shortland and Pearson are essentially told to take a seat while Disney’s bean-counters turn the film over to editing rooms and focus groups. Witness a scene in which the sisters must break their “dad”, who is a super-powered goofball named the Red Guardian, out of prison. We begin with a scene of psychological dominance among prisoners that is shot like a real movie, with such shocking things as camera angles and a focus on facial expressions. The escape itself is, as a friend put it, some Fast and the Furious type stuff, in which all subtlety and craft is pitched in the can and Johansson, Pugh and Harbour escape while dangling from a rope out of an erratically controlled helicopter literally seconds ahead of an avalanche. Presumably the other few hundred people in the prison didn’t make it, but what’s a little mass murder when you’re the hero?.

The most noticeable divide between artist and machine, though, comes in the third act, which is split into two distinct parts. The inevitable boom-bang finish is ripped almost beat-for-beat from Captain America: The Winter Soldier, to the degree that whatever comments I had about that could be applied here with only the names edited. Prior to a big multi-character fight amid a literal crumbling air base, though, there is a verbal match of wits between Natasha and Dreykov, a character we have not seen until now except in one brief flashback. The result is that Winstone has to carry off his entire personality in this one scene, since he won’t have any time during the running and yelling that comes later. What we get is he and Natasha circling each other like wolves, each trying to verbally deduce the other’s plans, intentions and capabilities, talk their opponent into a mistake, and otherwise gain the upper hand. I was reminded of Doctor Strange’s vastly underrated finale, and of how good a final confrontation between two electric personalities can be when it isn’t catering to seconds-long attention spans.

Then people start flip-kicking each other and everything starts blowing up real good and I was forcibly reminded of what kind of movie I was watching. For those precious scenes, though, the ones where the creators are allowed to create and the phenomenal cast is allowed to actually sink their teeth into the dialogue and the body language, I felt something of the stirrings I got when superhero movies were fresh and studios were still trying. It was enough, sometimes barely, to sneak past my defenses.

Verdict: Recommended

Note: I don’t use stars, but here are my possible verdicts.

Must-See

Highly Recommended

Recommended

Average

Not Recommended

Avoid like the Plague

You can follow me on Twitter here, if you want more posts about film and video games and sometimes about how I would have totally crushed so hard on Ava Gardner.:

https://twitter.com/RyanmEft

All images are property of the people what own the movie.

#marvel #Disney #black widow #movies #Scarlett Johansson #rachel weisz #florence pugh #david harbour #william hurt #cate shortland #o-t fagbenle #eric pearson #superhero #superheroes

4 notes · View notes

stellarcat52 · 4 years ago

Text

Timeless Blue Chapter three

Writer’s block and low-energy moods suck. Also yes, I will not be rewriting every scene in wizards. I do not have the ability to function for any length of time close to what would be needed to do so. Scenes that A) don’t change, B) don’t include Douxie or Krel, or C) are just difficult for me to write, will not be rewritten but will possibly be mentioned.

“Well that went better than expected.”

The door slammed shut behind Douxie, Krel was already pacing.

“I don’t think it went as well as you think. And you have a lot to explain to me. I’m sure Claire and Steve... well I’m sure Claire does not like what’s happening. I’m not entirely filled in on the story, but it was very clear she does not like this Morgana woman. I cannot transform back to human for any longer than eight horvaths and that King Arthur almost killed the Trollhunter.”

“Okay, first of all, Arthur didn’t kill Jim, he’s just imprisoned for now. And second, Morgana isn’t a threat to Claire, she’s centuries away from trying to kill any of us.” Douxie interjects.

“Well that might change. If I’ve learned anything from Eli and Steve’s nerdy ‘sci-fi’ movies, aside from the fact humans think all aliens are war species, it’s that time will change if you change what happens in the past. Which, we happen to be in right now. You and your past self cannot meet, and we must make sure that time doesn’t change too much.” Krel was standing tall and much too confident for someone who wasn’t alive during this era.

“Krel.” Douxie motioned with his hands to calm down. “I agree, well aside from the past me and me meeting. It’s entirely fiction that meeting yourself will blow up the universe, probably. What I’m saying is yes you’re right, but we need to focus on one thing at a time. First, getting the time map and finding a way home. One of which, I need to do, preferably alone.”

Krel sighed, sitting down for the first since the blanks had started malfunctioning that afternoon. “Douxie, Hisirdoux, wizard. Whatever I’m supposed to call you in this time. I still want an explanation. I come from a very technologically advanced world, now I’m in the past of an already primitive world but people now seem capable of things impossible to Akiridions. I don’t even know the whole story of the Trollhunters. I know you have to do what you have to, but promise to explain what is happening to me. I don’t like not understanding things, but magic and sorcery is not something I can pick apart and study.”

Douxie was caught off guard, probably due to the lack of previous interactions between them. Krel had always been the awkward guy at the cafe trying new foods and drinks every week, and of course the guardian of Arcadia. But they hadn’t interacted on eye level with each other. “I promise. But I need to get the time map first, which means taking my past self’s place.”

Krel was left unattended in their room for too long. Without technology, music, or other people around, he grew bored. At some point he would even rather Steve be there than be alone. So he calculated a risk, which is much more difficult to do when it involves the possibility of destroying the future, and started wandering the castle.

Most knights around the castle seemed to have been informed of what he was, if one or two of them seemed suspicious or tried to attack him, another would shake their head and pull them back. However, they still seemed cautious. Servants and knights never getting too close unless they were moving to attack him, nobody talking out loud to or about him, and that subtlety of unwavering stares and tightened grips on the hilts of swords.

Hallways and corridors mixed, faces blurred until every person who didn’t trust him might as well have been everyone else. Until the throne room. Arthur’s throne was vacant, actually the whole room was. Krel hadn’t gotten a good look earlier, but now he took in as many details as he could.

“Homesick?” Arthur stood in a doorway behind Krel, the door softly bumped into the wall as Krel turned around.

“Eh, yeah, I guess so.” Krel watched as Arthur walked towards his throne, Excalibur shining from his back. “It’s been a while since I’ve been to Ak- Cantalupia. It’s very different here.” Krel gestured to around him.

Arthur grunted in acknowledgement. “I’d assume so.”

A knight, once standing in the doorway from which Arthur had come, came over and whispered something to Arthur. A shifting set of eyes didn’t hide their suspicions as the knight said something that led to Arthur excusing himself.

“And Prince, you have free reign of Camelot, only because I know magic can tear families apart. I hope you can return to your kingdom soon.”Krel nods, and watches as Arthur leaves, and he is left alone again.

Krel walked out, once again wandering the halls, this time ignoring the people around him, and exploring where he hadn’t earlier.

——

Krel hadn’t shown up before the group learned of Jim’s planned execution at dawn. They hadn’t even met up with him prior to executing their plan. He met them inside, after the trolls had escaped, with two sets of crossed arms.

“Krel! Where have you been?” Claire was somewhat angry, if Krel had been there maybe they could have gotten Jim and the trolls out faster.

“Being left out of a prison break apparently.” Krel flared at Claire, knowing she had a big part in saving her boyfriend.

“And what are you wearing?” Krel had an outfit change, still four armed and blue, but he was wearing mildly altered alchemist attire. Douxie would be lying if he said he wasn’t staring.

“You ask me that and not Claire who is actually wearing a dress, I do not understand that.”

“Okay Claire has worn dresses before, and she’s beautiful. Not as beautiful as Aja... of course, but beautiful.” Steve defended, his voice muffled due to him laying face down.

“Claire and Steve... augh that’s not important, you disappeared for a day and came back wearing alchemist’s clothes. You could have done something!”

“Hey you’re the one who interacted with their past self! Did you even get the time map?”

“No, and you would have known that if you were hear earlier!”

“Guys!” Claire shouted, frustrated and upset that her friends were fighting.

“On the bright side,” Archie interrupted, “Arthur believes you to be too incompetent to be behind this.”

“Not exactly...” all eyes, except Steve, go back to Krel. “During the attack a few knights were looking for me. The only reason they accepted I wasn’t behind this is because I was with the alchemists.”

“Arthur suspects you?” Douxie groans. “This is all just great.” The wizard apprentice heads towards the door.

“And where are you going?”

“To get the bloody time map!”

The door slams behind him.

Part two part four

#douxie x krel #timeless blue fic #krel x douxie #drel #krelxie #douxel #krouxie #i promise it will get gayer soon #please be patient with me

40 notes · View notes

chiseler · 4 years ago

Text

Ophelia By the Yard

Cobwebbed passages and wax-encrusted candelabra, dungeons festooned with wrist manacles, an iron maiden in every niche, carpets of dry ice fog, dead twig forests, painted hilltop castles, secret doorways through fireplaces or behind beds (both portals of hot passion), crypts, gloomy servants, cracking thunder and flashes of lightning, inexplicably tinted light sources, candles impossibly casting their own shadows, rubber bats on wires, grand staircases, long dining tables, huge doors with prodigiously pendulous knockers to rival anything in Hollywood.

Here was the precise moment — and it was nothing if not inevitable — when the darkness of horror film, both visible and inherent, leapt from the gothic toy box now joined by a no less disconcerting array of color. The best, brightest, sweetest, and most dazzling red-blooded palette that journeyman Italian cinematographers could coax from those tired cameras. Color, both its commercial necessity as well as all it promised the eye, would hereafter re-imagine the genre’s possibilities, in Italy and, gradually, everywhere else.

When color hit the Italian Gothic cycle, a truly new vision was born. In Hammer films and other UK horror productions, the cheapness of Eastmancolor made it possible for blood to be red. Indeed, very red. And, while we shouldn't underestimate the startling impact this had, it was a fairly literal use of the medium. In the Italian movies, and to a large extent in Roger Corman's Poe cycle, color was an unlikely vehicle to further dismantle realism rather than to assert it. Overrun with tinted lights and filters, none of which added to the film’s realistic qualities, the movies became delirious. In Corman's Masque of the Red Death, we learn of an experiment that uses color to drive a man insane; it seems that filmmakers like Corman and Mario Bava were attempting the very same trick on their audiences.

The application of candy-wrapper hues to a haunted castle flick like The Whip and the Body adds a pop art vibe at odds with the genre, and when you get to something like Kill, Baby...Kill! the Gothic trappings are barely able to mask a distinctly modern sensibility, so much so that Fellini could plunder its phantasmal elements for Toby Dammit, fitting them perfectly into his sixties Roman nightmare.

Blood and Black Lace brings the saturated lighting and Gothic fillips into the twentieth century -- a sign creaking in a gale is the first image, translated from Frankensteinland to the exterior of a contemporary fashion house. A literal faceless killer disposes of six women in diabolical ways. The sour-faced detective remains several deaths back on the killer’s trail because the movie knows its audience, knows that it has zero interest in detection, character, motivation — though it’s all inertly there as a pretext for sadism, set-pieces of partially-clad women being hacked up, dot the film like musical numbers or action sequences might appear in a different genre.

Since the 19th-century audience for literary Gothic Horror was comprised of far fewer men than women, would it be fair to ask whether Giallo’s advent might be an instrument of brutal violence, even revenge against “feminine” preoccupations? Consider 1964’s Danza Macabra, the film’s amorous vibes finding their ultimate source in that deathless screen goddess named Barbara Steele, whose marble white flesh photographs like some monument to classicism startled into unwanted Keatsian fever. Her presence practically demands that we ask ourselves: “Who is this wraith howling at a paper moon?” In other words, is it a coincidence that Steele’s “Elizabeth Blackwood” — a revenant temptress and undead sex symbol — hits screens the very same year as Giallo, which would transform Italian cinema into a decades-long death mill for women?

The name “giallo”, meaning yellow, derives from the crime paperbacks issued by Italian publisher Mondadori. The eye-catching covers, featuring a circular illustration of some act of infamy embedded in a yellow panel, became utterly associated with the genre of literature. These books were likely to be by Edgar Wallace, the most popular author in the western world, or Agatha Christie: cardboard characters sliding through the most mechanical of plots; or classier local equivalents, like Francesco Mastriani or Carolina Invernizio. The founding principles laid down concerned the elaborate deceptions concealed by their authors, traps for the unwary reader, and the use of a distinctive design motif. The tendency of the characterisation to lapse into sub-comic-book cliché, the figures incapable of expressing or inspiring real sympathy, was, perhaps, an unintended side-effect of the focus on narrative sleight-of-hand.

When Italian filmmakers sought to translate sensational literature to the screen, they looked to other filmic influences: American film noir, influenced by German expressionism and often made by German emigrés (Lang, Siodmak, Dieterle, Ulmer); and the popular krimi cycle being produced in West Germany, mostly based on Edgar Wallace's leaden "shockers." These deployed stock characters, bizarre methods of murder, deceptive plotting, and exuberant use of chiaroscuro, the stylistic palette of noir intensified by more fog, more shafts of light, more inky shadows. A certain amount of fun, but different from the coming bloodbath because Wallace, despite somewhat fascistic tendencies, is anodyne and anaemic by comparison. No open misogyny, a sadism sublimated in story, a touching faith in Scotland Yard and the class system. In the Giallo, Wallace's more sensational aspects are adopted but made to serve a sensibility quite alien to the stodgy Englander: people are generally rotten, the system stinks, and crime becomes a lurid spectator sport served up to a viewer both thrilled and appalled.

The Giallo fetishizes murder. But then, it fetishizes everything in sight. Every object, every half-filled wine glass and pastel-colored telephone, is photographed with obsessive, product-shot enthusiasm. Here, it must be emphasized that design implicates the viewer as the Italian camera-eye gawps like some unabashed tourist. Knife, wallpaper, onyx pinky ring — each detail transforms into an object made eerily subject: a sentient and glowering fragment of our own conscience, staring back at us in the darkened theater and pronouncing ineluctable guilt. And yet, for the directors who rode most dexterously the Giallo wave, homicide was something one did to women. Indulging in equal-opportunity lechery was merely an excuse to find other, more violent outlets for their misogyny. Please enter into evidence the demented enthusiasm for woman-killing evinced by Dario Argento, Mario Bava, Lucio Fulci, et al. — whatever trifling token massacres of men one might exhume from their respective oeuvres are inconsequential. Argento’s defense, “I love women, so I would rather see a beautiful woman killed than an ugly man,” should not satisfy us, and hardly seems designed to (also bear in mind Poe’s assertion that the death of a beautiful young woman was the most poetic of all subjects).

Filmmakers like Argento have no interest in sex per se. Suffering seems inessential, but terror and death are key, photographed with the same clinical absorption and aesthetic gloss as Giallo-maestros habitually apply to their interior design. Here, it must be emphasized that design implicates the viewer as the Italian camera-eye gawps like some unabashed tourist. Knife, wallpaper, onyx pinky ring – each detail transforms into an object made eerily subject: a sentient and glowering fragment of our own conscience, staring back at us in the darkened theater and pronouncing ineluctable guilt. That’s one important subtlety often lost amid Giallo’s vast antisocial hemorrhage.

Like a river of blood, homophobia, in the literal meaning of fear rather than hatred, runs through the genre. Lesbians are sinister and gay men barely exist. As we try to work out what in hell the Giallo is really up to, little dabs of dime-store Freudianism seem sufficient.

The filmmakers’ misogyny could be suspect, a sign of compromised masculinity, so they need fictional avatars to cloak their own feverish woman-hating. The subterfuge is clumsy at best, the desultory deceit embarrassingly macho. Giallo’s visual force, powerful enough to divorce eye from mind, is another matter, leaving us demoralized and ethically destitute; our hearts beating with all the righteous indignation of three dead shrubs (and maybe a half-eaten sandwich).

The Giallo is founded on an unstated assumption: the modern world brings forth monsters. Jack the Ripper was an aberration in his day, but now there's a Jack around every corner, behind every piece of modular furniture, every diving helmet lamp. Previously, disturbing events arose from what Ambrose Bierce called The Suitable Surroundings, or what the mad architect in Fritz Lang's The Secret Beyond the Door termed, with sly and sinister euphemism, "propitious rooms." There's the glorious line in Withnail and I: "That's the sort of window faces appear at." But now, in the modern world, evil occurs in the nicest of places, and tonal consistency died in a welter of cheerful stage blood. One needn’t enter an especially Bad Place to meet one’s worst nightmare, or perhaps better to say: the whole bright world qualified as a properly bad place. Imagine the pages of an interior design magazine invaded by anonymous psychopaths intent on painting the gleaming walls red.

Though the victims are overwhelmingly female and their killers male (Argento typically photographed his own leather-gloved hands to stand in for his assassin’s), when the violence becomes over-the-top in its sexualized woman-hating (like the crotch-stabbing in What Have You Done to Solange?), it’s usually a clue that the movie’s murderer will turn out to be female: a simple case of projection. Only Lucio Fulci, the most twisted of the bunch, trained as a doctor and experienced as an art critic, not only assigns misogyny to a straight male killer (The New York Ripper) but plays the killer himself in A Cat in the Brain. Though, in another self-protecting twist of narrative, all psychological explanations in Gialli are bullshit, always. Criminology and clinical psychology are largely ignored, and Argento has a clear preference for outdated theories like the extra chromosome signaling psychopathy (Cat O’Nine Tails). Did anybody use phrenology, or Lombroso’s crackpot physiognomic theories, as plot device?

A tradition of the Giallo is that the characters all tend to be dislikable, something Argento at least resisted in Cat O’ Nine Tails and Deep Red. With disposable characters, each of whom might be the killer and each of whose violent demise is served up as a set-piece, this distancing and contempt might just be a byproduct of the form rather than a principle or ethos, but it’s of some interest, perhaps mitigating the misogyny with a wash of misanthropy. A Unified Field Theory of Gialli would find a more deep-seated reason for the obnoxious characters as well as the stylized snuff and the glamorous presentation. What urge is being satisfied, and why here, now, like this?

Class war? Though prostitute-ripping is encouraged in the Giallo, most victims are wealthy, slashed to ribbons amid opulent interiors. Urbane characters who might previously have graced the sleek “white telephone” films of forties Italian cinema were briefly edged out by neo-realism’s concentration on the working class. Now these exquisite mannequins are trundled back onscreen to be ritually slaughtered for our viewing pleasure.

Victims must always be enviable: either beautiful and sexy or rich and swellegant, or all of the above, so the average moviegoer can rejoice in their dismemberment with a clear conscience. Mario Bava bloodily birthed the genre in Blood and Black Lace (1964), brutally offing fashion models in a variety of Sade-approved ways, the killer a literally faceless assassin into whom the (presumed male) audience could pour their own animosities without ever admitting it, with the female killer finally unmasked to provide exculpatory relief.

If narrative formulas absolve the straight male viewer, compositions have a way of ensnaring him. Beyond that omnivorous indulgence of sensation for its own lurid sake one finds in Giallo, there is a more gilded emphasis placed on Beauty (in the Catholic sense), and it is only the women who are mounted upon its pedestal. That these avatars of beauty are to be savored, ravaged, and brutalized — in that order — is what concerns us. But the sex and the suffering that captivates most sadists is never what registers; no, it is the instance of death, the terror that afflicts the dying woman’s face that resonates. Once again, physical interiors become a negative form of emotional interiority, rooms amplified for the sole purpose of grisly annihilations; a kind of heretical, strictly anti-Catholic transcendence through amoral delight in what otherwise falls under trivial headings, either “the visuals” or “color palette” – neither of which touch the essential nerve endings of Giallo.

Swaddled inside an otherwise hyper-masculine castle lies a windowless chamber with feminine, if not psychotic, decor. Before he tortures and stabs her to death, “Lord Alan Cunningham” (fresh from his sojourn in the asylum) brings his first victim to this pageant of off-gassing plastic furniture, the single most obnoxious vision ever imposed on gothic environs. Risibly overblown ’70s chic rules The Night Evelyn Came Out of the Grave with nods to Edgar Allan Poe, as the modish Lord juggles sports cars and medieval persecution. Laughs escape the viewer’s throat in dry heaves when each new MacGuffin devours itself without warning. Take “Aunt Agatha” (easily two decades younger than her middle-aged nephews) suddenly rising from her motorized wheelchair, clobbered from behind seconds later, her body dragged into a cage where foxes promptly munch her entrails. Nothing comes of this. The phony paralysis, the aunt’s role in a half-dozen mysteries, which include a battalion of sexy maids in miniskirts and blonde Harpo Marx wigs – all gulped, swallowed.

About the only thing we know for certain is that “Aunt Agatha” is gorgeous. Though, in the end, she’s another casualty of the same nihilism that crashes Giallo aesthetics headlong into Poe country. That is into “Lord Alan” and his gaudy room crowded with designer goods to be catalogued in a horror vacui of visual intrusiveness – a trashy shrine to his late wife, the titular Evelyn. If lapses of good taste define The Night Evelyn Came Out of the Grave, they also reflect Giallo’s abiding obsession with real estate. After all, this Mod hypnagogia has to fill the eye somewhere. Why not bang in the middle of a castle? Poe’s The Fall of the House of Usher features a wealthy aristocrat burying his twin sister alive, thereby entombing his own femininity.

Evelyn represents both Usher’s primary theme of the divided self and the obdurate refusal to learn from it. “Alan,” who emerges a moral hero in the end (after his shrink aids and abets his murder spree), remains just as ornery, alienated, and vainglorious as Giallo itself. We’re never told precisely what the film’s fetish objects are supposed to mean. And since the camera seizes upon each one with existential grimness, we’re left with a visual style that begs its own questions.

Function follows form into the abyss. One Ophelia after another dies to satisfy our cruel delectation, even as will-o’-the-wisp light, taken from the bogs and neglected cemeteries of Gothic Horror, finds itself transformed into a crimson-dripping stiletto. Evelyn stands in for all Gialli, a genre which redefines film itself on the narrow front of visual impact: stainless steel cutlery and candy-colored light enact a sentient agenda as color becomes an instrument of hyperbolic misogyny that fills the eye and then some.

As with certain other Italian genres, notably the peplum, smart characterization, solid performances and decent dialogue seem not only unnecessary to the Giallo but unwelcome (the spaghetti western, conversely, in which many of the same directors dabbled, seemed to demand a steady stream of good, cold-blooded wise-cracks). Argento, in pursuit of that “non-Cartesian” quality he admired in Poe, took this to extremes, stringing non-sequiturs together to form absurdist cut-ups, torching his stars’ credibility merely by forcing them to utter such nonsense. And this wasn’t enough: from Suspiria (1977) on, the psychological thriller (which the Giallo is a sub-genre of, only the psychology has to be deliberately nonsensical) was increasingly replaced by the supernatural. So that the laws of nature could be suspended along with the laws of coherent motivation.

In Suspiria and its 1980 quasi-sequel Inferno, the traditional knifings are interspersed with more uncanny events, as when a stone eagle comes to life and somehow makes a seeing-eye dog kill his owner, and there are also grotesque incidents with no relation to story whatever: a shower of maggots, or an attack by voracious rats in Central Park. The Giallo’s quest for a solution, inspired as it was by the old-school whodunits, is all but abandoned, replaced by the search for the next sensational set-piece.

Argento’s villains are now witches, but, abandoning centuries of tradition, these witches show more interest in stabbing their fellow women with kitchen knives than with worshipping Satan or riding broomsticks. Regardless of who they’re meant to be, Argento’s characters must express his desires, enact the atrocities he dreams of. And inhabit places built for his aesthetic pleasure rather than their own. Following Bava’s cue, he saturates his rooms in light blasted through colored gels, making every scene a stained-glass icon, no naturalistic explanation offered for the lurid tinted hues. Just as no explanation is offered for the presence of a room full of coiled razor-wire in a ballet school, or for the behavior of the young woman who throws herself into its midst without looking.

Dario Argento’s true significance, at least with respect to Giallo, was perceiving in the nick of time the almost incandescent obviousness of its limitations; that Italian commercial cinema’s garish, polychromatic spin on the garden-variety psychological thriller – departing from its forebears mainly in the rampant senselessness of its “psychology” – had Dead End written all over it. It could never last. On the other hand, Giallo does take a fresh turn with Argento’s Inferno, thanks in no small measure to a woman screenwriter who sadly remains uncredited. Daria Nicolodi explains that “having fought so hard to see my humble but excellent work in Suspiria recognized (up until a few days before the première I didn’t know if I would see my name in the film credits), I didn’t want to live through that again, so I said, ‘Do as you please, in any case, the story will talk for me because I wrote it.’”

Daria Nicolodi

Nicolodi’s conception humanizes (it would be tempting to say “feminizes”) Argento’s usual sanguinary exercises du style, while at the same time summoning legitimate psychology. This has nothing to do with strong characterization – indeed, the characters barely speak – and everything to do with the elemental power of water, fire, wind.… Inferno rescues Giallo by plunging it into seemingly endless visual interludes, a cinema that draws its strength from absence.

by The Chiselers

Daniel Riccuito, David Cairns, Tom Sutpen, and Richard Chetwynd

5 notes · View notes

anonwriter27 · 4 years ago

Text

Trust in Me Ch7

She could hear the waves crashing upon the stones below their house, the fresh smell of sea air touched her nose. Y/N was a little girl sat in her bed. The lights were dimmed, and the room was warm, Y/N looked around at her soft toys: one a grey wolf from her uncle Tony, one a raven from her father’s younger brother, Regin. They sat at the bottom of her bed, guarding her as she slept. Y/N felt the warmth of her mother as they sat together on the little girl’s bed.

“…and so the young maiden said goodnight to her ghosts, and danced back to her chambers to await another day.” Lia said, concluding the bedtime story.

“Goodnight sweet girl.” Lia got up and went to switch out the light.

“But mama…” Y/N spoke.

Lia sighed but gave a knowing smirk, “Y/N you promised one more story and you’d go to sleep.”

“But I have questions.” Y/N said timidly.

Lia perched onto the end of her daughter’s bed, “Don’t you always. I will answer one, and then you must go to sleep.”

Y/N pulled down her duvet so she could sit up and talk, “Why is the young woman not afraid of the ghosts?”

Lia smiled, “There is nothing frightening about ghost’s sweet girl, they were people just like you and me. They have histories, families, homes, they should be allowed to visit every once in a while.”

Y/N smiled, “It’s nice that they visit.”

All of a sudden, the room went dark and Y/N was no longer a little girl, “I miss you.”

Lia smiled sadly at her daughter, as she opened her mouth to speak, Y/N woke up.

Y/N opened her eyes slowly, a single tear escaping when she realised it was only a memory. She didn’t move for a while, she tried to fix her eyes shut again in hopes she could return to her dream, but the tears stung too much to keep them closed for long.

Y/N didn’t have nightmares, not really. Occasionally she would remember the bloodshed on the steps leading up to her home, or the gaping wound in her father’s side as they laid him to rest on the bed; but they were not the memories that haunted her. No, her dreams always consisted of warm and loving memories, and in a way they hurt more. She would spend mere minutes reliving moments of bliss, then awaken to a world she feared. She was not ungrateful by any means, she loved her uncle and all he had done for her; she just found it hard sometimes, to acknowledge that she will never go back to the life she once lived.

Y/N looked to her nightstand where her clock read 3:12am. She looked around her room, spotting her grey wolf, and fluffy raven sat on the bookshelf across the room, still watching over her after all these years. She removed herself from the warmth of her blankets, snuck her feet into her fuzzy slippers and made her way quietly out of her room.

She made one cup of tea and one cup of coffee on her way to the lab on the first floor. She followed the sound of drilling and metal clanging, knowing it would lead her to her chosen destination.

And there she found him, Uncle Tony. He removed his safety goggles and gloves taking the coffee she handed him.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he asked, she shook her head in response.

“Me neither. Pepper thinks it’s my excessive caffeine intake.” He said, imitating Pepper’s voice.

“Not the nightmares?” Y/N inquired shyly.

Tony looked up at her with a tired smile, “Always the nightmares.” He admitted.

Y/N nodded, “Need some help?”

Tony chuckled, “Sure, you can do the paperwork, you know I hate that part.”

They worked together, making idle conversation as they did so.

“So…Vision tells me Loki is settling in.” Tony said, he had been itching to bring up the topic of Loki but didn’t want to overwhelm her.

“He seems to be.” Y/N replied, not lifting her gaze from the charts in her hands.

Tony nodded, “Good…good…and you’re getting along with him…?”

Y/N decided to cut to the chase, “Subtlety is not your strong suit uncle, what is it you would like to say?” she said with a grin.

“Don’t look at me like that, I just want to make sure you’re being careful. He has a track record; we can’t just trust the guy because Thor’s given him a thumbs up. For all we know he could be pretending to be calm and collected, and when we least expect it, he’ll…” Tony was working himself up to a rant.

Y/N placed her hand over his, “Uncle Tony, please don’t worry. I’m okay.”

Tony seemed soothed and decided to say no more in the subject. They kept working till dawn; when the sun came up Tony looked over to his niece. She had fallen asleep on a stack of papers, pen held loosely in her hand. He draped his fleece over her and let her sleep.

The avengers assembled for their monthly meeting in the conference room on the second floor. Sam was teasing Bucky about not understanding the order sizes at Starbucks.

“Surely just asking for a large will do!” Bucky said, clearly irritated.

“Man, large can range from a grande to a venti, you’ve got to be specific.” Sam teased.

Bucky rolled his eyes.

Nat and Steve listened to Bruce explain a new theory, Steve nodded to mask his confusion on the subject.

Meanwhile, Clint moved over to Wanda and Vision’s side of the room when he saw Thor and Loki enter.

Last to arrive were the Stark clan, Pepper by Tony’s side and Y/N and Peter behind them.

Loki was surprised to see Y/N at the meeting. Since their library trip a couple days prior, he hadn’t seen much of her. He assumed his brother had something to do with it, perhaps she worried Loki regarded her in the same way now.

“Shall we begin the meeting?” Steve spoke up, gathering the attention of the room.

“Not so fast capsicle.” Tony interrupted, earning an eye roll from the captain. “I want everyone to drop what they’re doing tonight, we have plans.”

Half the room sighed while the other groaned.

“Tony, I don’t want to go to another party, I still have a headache from the last one.” Clint complained, rubbing his forehead.

“And if memory serves me right, last time you fell onto the piano in all your Iron Man glory, causing it to fall through the floor.” Nat pointed out, “You sure you’re ready for that again?”

“It’s not a party, so kindly pause your whining. It’s a movie night.” Tony explained, “Pizza and Netflix, who’s in?”

Everyone agreed, due to a mixture of wanting a cosy night in and relief they wouldn’t have to smell tequila around the tower for the next week.

Loki sat quietly, observing the band of heroes; they were in the midst of discussing which movie to watch, Peter voting for Harry Potter, Sam rooting for Die Hard.

Loki scanned all their faces, noting the happy and tranquil moment they were sharing; that is, until his eyes landed on Y/N. She didn’t look upset or distressed, she just seemed very focused. Loki could practically feel her overthinking from across the table.

He then noticed Pepper smile down at the young woman and hold her hand under the table. The action seemed to bring Y/N out of the thought she was currently having; she took a deep breath and began to listen to the debate going on.

Despite Loki noticing her discomfort, no one else in the room had picked up on it. The second Pepper had noticed, Y/N shook herself out of her reverie. This was another piece in the puzzle, she didn’t want others to worry for her. ‘Is that why she didn’t leave the tower?’ Loki wondered.

The team finally agreed on a movie and went their separate ways. Loki would have to let her know he did not agree with his brother.

Y/N sat in her room reading Wuthering Heights for seemingly the hundredth time, but her mind kept drifting to Loki. She was sure Thor must have told him by now, what would he think of her?

Y/N recalled the day Thor had worked out who her family was. His carefree posture and charming smile altered quickly, his lips forming a thin line and his posture stiffening. He was never outwardly rude to her, nor did he ignore her when she entered the room; but he certainly didn’t welcome her or encourage the idea of friendship between them. It was something that had irked Tony.

She hated the idea that Loki may look at her the same way. She liked being around Loki, she felt calm with him and that was rare for her.

The alarm on her phone distracted her from her thoughts. 7pm it flashed, movie time.

Y/N got up and threw on a hoodie, slipping on a pair of fuzzy socks and made her way out of her room.

She walked to the elevator which took her to the top floor of the tower where the cinema room was. The avenger’s cinema was huge and rivalled any Imax in the city; it took up the entire floor and had a popcorn station on standby, safe to say it was Peter’s favourite room.

The elevator doors pinged, and Y/N walked down the long corridor leading to the big screen. She stood to the side of the hallway, safely hidden in a little nook just off the right side of the doorway. She could see almost everyone handing out pizza boxes and laughing at something Wanda had said.

It was time for Y/N to do her little ritual.

Although she was reasonably comfortable with each avenger by now, big gatherings still intimidated her. She believed it had something to do with not knowing what each person was doing at any given time. Tony said she got that from her father.

So, before big gatherings like this, she would count and with each number she would name an avenger she could talk to if uncomfortable. There wasn’t an exact science to it, but it seemed to help.

“One, Tony.” She whispered, “Two, Pepper. Three, Peter. Four, Vision. Five, Bucky. Six…”

“Ranking your favourites?” She heard from behind her.

She jumped with a strangled yelp and turned.

“Loki, you startled me.” She said, catching her breath.

Loki smiled, “My apologies. Why are you hiding…and counting?” he asked.

Y/N blushed furiously, “It just helps…organising things…helps….” She muttered.

Loki nodded in understanding, “With the crowds?”

She nodded.

“Perhaps I should give it a try.” Loki said, earning a shy smile from Y/N.

They stood there a little while in silence, “You’re not going in?” Y/N asked, though her eyes still didn’t meet his.

“I haven’t seen much of you these past few days.” Loki said, ignoring her question. “Have you been avoiding me?”

“No!” Y/N said a little too quickly, causing Loki to smile at her honesty. “I just thought you might be busy with your brother; I didn’t think you’d want me to bother you…”

“Because you’re a Tatum.” Loki said matter of factly.

Y/N paused, she looked up at him, scanning his face for any obvious signs of anger or annoyance. Surprisingly she found no judgement in his features.

She bowed her head, “I’m sorry.”

Loki grew sympathetic and grew angrier at his brother. “You needn’t apologise for being born.” He spoke with a chuckle.

Y/N was surprised by his reaction, “I thought you would have shared Thor’s opinion…”

Loki shook his head, “If we all based our opinions on what other’s think, we wouldn’t get very far, would we my dear?”

Y/N didn’t really know what to think of his relaxed manner and lack of judgement, but she was certainly grateful for it.

She gave Loki that winning smile, the one he always felt honoured for having earnt.

“Now for the matter at hand. Shall we join the others for ‘movie night’?” Loki asked, causing Y/N to giggle at the way he said movie night.

She nodded, “Okay, would you like to sit with me and Peter? His reactions to the movie are usually more entertaining than the actual movie.”

Loki chuckled, “How could I say no to that.”

They walked in together and made their way over to Peter who had already saved them two seats beside him.

To everyone’s surprise Thor walked over to the little group with a large bag of popcorn at hand and sat in the seat to Loki’s left.

Thor turned to his brother and Y/N and cleared his throat, gathering their attention. “Would you like some popcorn Y/N?” He asked, a little meekly, or as meekly as a God can.

Y/N was shocked at first but didn’t want to waste the opportunity to make good with the God of thunder.

She nodded, “Thank you.” She said sweetly, taking a few pieces of popcorn in her hand.

The lights slowly dimmed till the room was dark and the movie began to play on the big screen. It would appear Peter had won the debate as the famous Warner Brothers logo appeared before them.

Thor didn’t have to look at his brother to know he was grinning. “Stop it.” He whispered to Loki.

Loki chuckled quietly, “Well done…brother.” Loki whispered back.

Thor smiled.

#loki x reader #loki fandom #loki odinson #thor #peter parker #bucky barnes #sam wilson #wanda #vision #tony stark #pepper potts #clint barton #natasha romanoff #bruce banner #avengers

5 notes · View notes

vintagevalentinex · 5 years ago

Text

Wings

This has been a labor of love. It is the longest story that I have written to date and I have to say I’m quite proud of it. I have had this Cas/Reader story in my head for such a long time and I’m so happy that I was finally able to get it out.

Please let me know what you think!

Tags under the cut at the bottom! :)

Title: Wings Author: vintagevalentinexx Words: ~4775 Pairing: (Castiel x Reader) Warnings: Major FLUFF. Brief mention of torture/violence. Brief angst.

Wing /wɪŋ/ noun: Any of a number of specialized paired appendages that enable some animals to fly, in particular.

You never really took into consideration how important some things were until they were gone, or even became damaged. You could remember when you were eleven years old when you broke your arm. You had to wear that stupid pink cast and that sling for nearly a month. It was difficult getting dressed, bathing, eating, and you had to rely on other people for nearly everything. Being the precocious, independent youngster that you were, it was difficult having to lean on other people to get things accomplished. It was then that you realized how some parts of your body are like extensions of yourself (literally). While by the end of the month you were figuring out how to get things done without the aid of one of your arms, you were certainly grateful to finally get the cast off. That memory had stuck with you though. It made you not take anything for granted, and it gave you compassion toward other people who may be going through a rough time.

Which is why you could understand why Castiel was so upset and self-conscious about his wings.

You remember the first time you saw his wings. He was a solider of Heaven; fierce and powerful and you watched with awe as he smote demon after demon as you lay incapacitated on the ground. Your vision went in and out, but you could have sworn you saw a magnificent shadow, shaped in the form of wings, the span of which you had never seen before in any kind of animal. As you lay bleeding out you saw bursts of light, the shadow of wings continuing to flicker against any wall they faced. When it was finally over, you thought for a moment that you were going to pass on, but Castiel’s glowing blue eyes kept you awake, always in a trance-like state as he bent down, his gaze softening as he pressed two fingers to your forehead, murmuring something about trying to relax.

When you woke you were greeted by those same beautiful blue eyes, albeit not glowing now. He was staring at you worriedly, his face showing signs of relief as you finally came to.

“You lost so much blood, (Y/N).”

“I…I’m…sorry?”

He looked at you bewildered, his lips forming into a small, shy smile. “You are such a fascinating creature.” With that, you heard the all too familiar flutter of wings as he left, a dopey smile on your face, visions of blue eyes unable to fade out of your mind as you fell back asleep.

It was a long time later when you were gifted with the opportunity of seeing Castiel’s wings again. You were fighting side by side, something that was happening more frequently while Sam and Dean tried to find a cure for the Mark of Cain. Castiel would take you on excursions to question rogue angels, trying to figure out where Metatron was hiding. If there was anyone who knew, it might be him. The both of you were nearly inseparable during that time. You had watched him go through everything—losing his grace, being kicked out of the Bunker, learning about his “extracurricular” affair with April (which for some reason really rubbed you the wrong way), watching Dean turn into a demon, and finding the rest of his grace. You had seen the toll all of these ordeals had done on him. The once curious, awkward angel was now weary and jaded; the wonderment he once had about the world was gone.

Naturally this broke your heart. You had longed for the shy smiles the angel seemed to save for only you, and you missed teaching him about the subtleties of human existence. You wanted to speak up, but you found yourself having a difficult time knowing what to even say to Cas. Hey buddy, why so glum? Hey there pal, I’ve noticed you’re not as awkwardly adorable as you used to be. Yeah…that’s definitely not going to work.

You sighed, your mind shifting back to the fight you were currently in, Castiel by your side as you fought more demons. You were thrown against a wall, crumbling into yourself as you saw the bright light again that you saw so very long ago. You shielded your eyes, not wanting your eyeballs to melt out of your face, waiting for the blinding light to die down. Finally you were away to uncover your face, seeing the faintest shadow of his wings. You heard a gasp, realizing moments later that you were the person who made this noise, seeing the condition of his wings. Several feathers were missing and currently falling off, the shadows of them fading into nothingness as they hit the ground. You bit your lip, your heart sinking at how Castiel’s wings looked now. He had been through so very much and it must have been tiring on his vessel and his grace. You wondered if there were things that could not be healed by grace.

The flutter of wings signaled Castiel’s presence in front of you as he bent down. You could see him staring tenderly at you. “(Y/N)…I am sorry that you are always getting hurt while I’m around…I wish…I wish I could protect you better.”

You tried to smile, feeling his warm fingers going to your forehead, the pain and aches of the fight quickly dissipating. “It’s okay, Cas…it’s part of the job.” You put a hand on his bicep, feeling the muscle through his trenchcoat. “I…I need to tell you something Cas.”

He looked at you inquisitively, tilting his head as he helped you up. “What is the matter, (Y/N)?”

You fought to meet his eyes, nervous, hoping he wouldn’t be upset with you. “Well…one of the first time we fought together…I saw your wings…and they were beautiful, enormous and they looked so powerful.” You swallowed, trying to not look at his face, knowing there would be sorrow etched into his features. “I saw them again today…they…they looked quite different.”

Castiel looked at you through his eyelashes, unspeaking, nodding as you continued. “They were so different today. Your wings…they looked damaged.”

“I have sacrificed many things for the betterment of humans, (Y/N).”

“I know you have, but at what cost, Cas? What would I…er…we do without you around? You are so very important.”

“I am but a soldier of Heaven…”

“You are one of us. You are special to me, Cas. And we need to get you better. Please…please let me help you heal.”

You made it your personal mission to help him heal.

“I do not understand this at all, (Y/N)…”

You laughed as you plopped down on Sam’s bed, the only room in the Bunker that had Netflix. That was something you’d definitely have to work on. You continued to giggle as you watch Castiel try and sit on the bed in his trench coat, shoes still on. You quirked an eyebrow.

“Seriously, Cas? Shoes? Your coat? Both of them off. Now.”

“I…but why?”

“Because…” you started, “if Sam finds out I let you sit on his bed with your shoes on, he will never let me watch Netflix again! Now c’mon!”

You could have sworn you saw him roll his eyes as he finally plopped down next to you, smirking a little as you swayed on the bed from the force of him. You clicked the TV on with the remote, the dim glow of the screen illuminating the room.

“Would you please explain to me again why this is necessary?”

You sighed, scrolling through the movies and shows on the home screen of Netflix, trying to find something you think that Castiel would like. “It’s very necessary. You need to heal. You are so far done that you can’t heal yourself and you can’t even fly anywhere. The ordeals you have been through have been very taxing on you, Cas…”

“Yes, I understand that, but why is this…” He motioned to the television, “needed? Can’t I just lie here?”

It was your turn to roll your eyes. “Technically no. But it can be rather enjoyable! All of these different movies on here all tell different stories of the human experience. Some are sad, some are angry, some are absolutely hilarious. The point is that you can step outside of yourself and focus on these stories instead of what you have going on. It’s nice sometimes to be able to put it off for a while sometimes.”

Castiel nodded, smiling the small, shy smile you have started to adore as he stared intently at the screen, his smile growing larger as you click on a documentary about bees. You slyly glanced at him, smiling at him fondly, his eyes excited as he watched the screen. What an adorable dork.

You couldn’t see it, but in the shadows of the room, Castiel’s wings twitched, less feathers fell from them as they started to subtly glitter and dance against the shadows.

“Just humor me.”

You sat in the library of the Bunker with Castiel, swinging your legs as you sat in a chair, nursing a mug of hot chocolate. You pouted up at him, trying to give him the best puppy dog eyes you could muster, taking another sip of your hot chocolate, unbeknownst to you, a bit of whipped cream resting on your upper lip.

Castiel chuckled as watched you. As he stepped closer he bent down, taking a thumb to gently wipe your upper lip. “You had something on your face. (Y/N)…are you well? You feel so warm?”

He tilted his head as he looked at you. You pulled away from him harshly, trying to completely not look like a mess as he touched you. “I’m…I’m fine, Cas. It’s just the heat from the hot chocolate!”

He seemed to accept that as an answer as he finally took a seat next to you, a mug that was meant for him. “What am I supposed to do with this, again?”

You beamed. “You’re supposed to drink it! It tastes so good! Chocolate is amazing!” You giggled as you watched him eye the steaming mug suspiciously.

“When I consume anything, I can only taste the molecules, (Y/N). As ‘amazing’ as your hot chocolate sounds, I will not be able to taste it.”

You looked at him sheepishly, hanging your head as you realize your mistake. “Oh, right. I’m sorry, Cas. I should have realized. That was really stupid of me.” You chewed on your lip; picking at your fingernails as you looked down, feeling terrible. You just wanted to make him happy and try to cheer him up a little bit.

Your head snapped up as you heard the scrape of a chair moving closer to yours. His chair was butted right alongside yours, armrests flush with each other. Cas picked up your mug from the table, handing it back to you. “Please don’t apologize, (Y/N). Maybe it will taste like something. I should not have said anything until I tried it.”

Smiling, you took your mug, clanking it with Castiel’s as you both took a sip out of your respectful mugs, you smiling, your face scrunching up as you tasted the warm hot chocolate; Castiel’s’ face scrunching up in disgust as he sipped.

“This is still terrible.”

You giggled softly, shifting as you leaned your head on his shoulder, your toes wiggling in your thick woolen socks as you enjoyed the quiet with Castiel.

Just out of your line of sight, Castiel’s wings were unfurled, yet still fairly barren. Despite this, his wings did not shed a single feather now, yet still hung rather limp.

Of course the heat wasn’t working properly in the Bunker. That seemed to be right on par with the day you were having. You stubbed your toe nearly as soon as you stepped out of your bed this morning, you shrunk your favorite t-shirt in the wash, there wasn’t any coffee left, and Dean ate all the damn pop tarts. You huffed as you nestled yourself down on the couch, cocooning yourself in several blankets, getting comfy. You turned on the tv, trying to keep warm. Hopefully the boys would be back soon to fix the damn furnace.

Unbeknownst to you, Castiel had popped into the Bunker to check up on you, find you fast asleep on the couch. He smiled softly as he watching you for a while, bundled up in all the blankets. He watched you for a little while longer, a frown etching onto his mouth as he realized you were still shivering under all of those blankets. He crouched down, brushing your cheek with the back of his hand, trying to rouse you from sleep.

“(Y/N)…(Y/N)…please wake up…” You shifted, your eyes fluttering open slowly to be met by the most beautiful blue ones you had ever had the pleasure to see. A smile crept its way onto your lips as you groggily answered him.

“Hey, Cas. Everything okay?”

His eyebrows furrowed as he continued to watch you shiver. “You are cold, (Y/N).”

You smiled self-consciously at him, averting your eyes. “Yeah…the heating seems to be on the fritz so I’ve been trying to stay warm…”

Before you could even speak Castiel was moving around the blankets to get into them next to you, not realizing that you were a blushing mess. It was enough to make you blush to just be near to him, but cuddling under blankets was probably going to kill you.

“Your heart is beating rather fast, (Y/N). Perhaps I should move closer to try and give you some of this vessel’s warmth.”

You couldn’t even speak as you felt him wrap an arm around you, the heat in your cheeks intensifying. The both of you sat there for a while, and you found yourself unconsciously moving closer to him as the warmth from his body seeped into yours. You found yourself dozing off, your head finally lulling onto his shoulder. Castiel smiles down at you, giving you a firm squeeze as he aimlessly watches whatever is on the television.

He doesn’t know it, but the limpness in his wings is significantly less now, returning to the strength they once were. The shadows of his wings trembled in the shadows against the walls, the light from the television creating beautiful shapes against the shadows of his wings.

“It is merely a visible mass of condensed water vapor floating in the atmosphere. I don’t see what is so important about that.”

You sighed, flopping over onto your side, leaning up on an elbow to stare at the angel. It was a beautiful spring day, and while the sky wasn’t completely cloudless, the beautiful puffy, tufts of white crawling their way through the sky. Although you had seen many beautiful days, it was nice to be able to spend a moment alone with Castiel.

Castiel.

If anyone reminded you of a beautiful, blue, sunny day, it was him. You were currently trying your best to not stare for too long at him; he was more observant than he let most people realize. When he smiled, actually, genuinely smiled, it was as if the sun was warming your skin, the heat intensifying when that smile was directed your way. His eyes were more captivating that anything you had ever gazed upon; the most beautiful shade of blue that you could ever imagine. You found yourself growing fonder of him as the days passed and as you spent more and more time with the angel. He was becoming a facet in your life; a piece of your heart that you did not want to give up.

“(Y/N)…(Y/N)…is something wrong with my face? Are you alright?”

You jerked your head, your nose colliding with Castiel’s forehead; apparently he was much closer now, but you would know that if you weren’t daydreaming. Your hand immediately went to your face, the crunch of the blow making your eyes water, trying to keep composure. Castiel was immediately pulling you up, making you move your hand, his eyes full of concern. He pressed two fingers to your forehead, the warm of his grace flowing through you, healing your nose as if nothing had ever happened. He held you by your shoulders, leaning in close.

“Please forgive me, (Y/N). I am so very sorry that I hurt you…I would never want to hurt you.”

You smiled, wiggling your nose. “See…it’s as good as new. I promise I’m not mad…”

Castiel continued to look at you like a scolded puppy and you couldn’t help but giggle, his concern for you warming your heart.

“I tell you what. If you can tell me what that cloud looks like we can call it even.” He rolled his eyes, still not understanding why you would want to do such a trivial thing. He plopped back down on the ground, taking you with him at his side. His eyebrows furrowed, deep in thought, turning his head to pout at you as you giggled softly at his ‘thinking face’.

“That one there…it seems to resemble the shape of a bee…”

Castiel smiled at you, your lips moving of their own accord to match his grin. The both of you laid there until the sun hung low in the sky, your eyes growing heavy as you fell into a comfortable, warm sleep. Castiel brushed the hair out of your face, pressing the softest whisper of a kiss at your hairline, smiling down at you.

You snuggled closer to the warmth of him, the warm spring wind blowing gently, caressing your skin. Little did you know that Castiel’s wings were flexing and flapping gently, stretching the muscles, creating the breeze you felt. Feathers no longer fell from his wings. New fluffy, downy feathers grew in the empty spaces, maturing into the longer, outer layer that so desperately needed to be replaced.

The power had gone out in the Bunker. Well…not really, but you had turned out all of the lights, your flashlight leading Castiel and you through the hallways.

“(Y/N)…now you’re really confusing me. This seems extremely unnecessary. Can’t we just turn all the lights back on and get on with our lives?”

All you did was grin at him as you dragged him to your room, flashlights and candles flicking in the space. You could see Castiel smiling fondly at your work, his lips curling up into a warm smile as he looked at your creation in the center of the room. “Did you collect all of the blankets and pillows in the Bunker to create that…umm…”

“Fort. It’s a fort, Cas. It’s a blanket fort! C’mon!”

You dragged him under and into the fort, where more lights and candles illuminated it (good thing you had an angel with you for assistance if you started a fire with all these candles). After the both of you got settled amongst the blankets and pillows, you set your flashlight aside, the soft light illuminating both of your faces. You shuffled closer to Castiel, sitting shoulder to shoulder as you wiggled your sock-clad toes.

“Tell me something about yourself, Cas.”

He looked at you confused. “I don’t understand…”

You smiled, “I want to know more about you, the things you like, what you were like when you were younger…wait…were you ever younger? Were angels ever babies?! Please tell me there are such things as angel babies!!”

Castiel openly laughed, noting the flush in your cheeks as his hand “accidentally” brushed against yours.

“I think I understand what you mean now, (Y/N). Perhaps you should go first.”

You nodded, pondering about what you wanted to tell him. “Well…when I was little I always used to love camping in the backyard when it was warm enough. One summer, it seemed to rain every night so I wasn’t able to spend the night outside. My parents had the amazing idea to create a blanket fort inside so we could spend the night camping in the house. We gathered up all the blankets and pillows in the house and made the most amazing fort ever. We stayed up all night telling stories to each other. It’s the fondest memory I have of them.”

Castiel smiled, taking your hand into his, giving it a firm squeeze. “Thank you for sharing that with me. It’s a beautiful memory.”

You smiled back at him, your hand still firmly planted in his. “Alright, it’s your turn.”

Castiel let go of your hand, causing you to pout momentarily, your frown quickly being replaced with a shy smile as his arm found its way around your shoulders, pulling you into his side, engulfing you in his warmth.

“When the Earth was new, I enjoyed the time when the animals and all of the creatures were being created. I was marveled at how each creature is such a masterpiece. God even let some of the angels help create some of the animals…the platypus for example…one of Gabriel’s creations…”

“No way…you’re making this up!” You laughed, your head finding its way onto his shoulder.

He chuckled. “He also had a lot of input on the giraffe…” He paused for a moment, turning his head to smile down at you on his shoulder.

“But my fondest memory…that would be…that would have to be several things, (Y/N). I suppose it could be summed up as one thing, though. The first time I saw you smile is probably the fondest memory that I have in all of my years…”

You looked up at him, steeling yourself as you bent upward, pressing your lips to his. The kiss wasn’t overly passionate; it was sweet, and it spoke volumes for you, everything you wanted to say to him at that moment but were unable to say.

The empty spaces on Castiel’s wings were completed filled in now, the strength slowly but surely still coming back to them. They started to unfurl much more effectively.

“Can you please explain this to me again?”

You pumped your legs as you glided through the air, swinging back and forth on the swing set, the breeze blowing through your hair. You grinned at you turned your head, watching him move his legs, and unsuccessfully swing. Hopping off of the swing mid-air, you made your way over to Castiel’s swing, standing behind him.

“You need to push yourself off first to get the momentum going, Cas.”

“I do not understand.”

“Here, lift your feet off the ground…”

You grabbed the chains, pulling the swing back as the bewildered angel looked back at you. You let go of the chain, pushing him forward. “Go ahead now, Cas. Move your legs!”

You watched on as he pumped his legs like you showed him, the swing going higher and higher. Hopping back on your own swing, you went back to the wonderful task of flying through the air on your swing, completely oblivious to whatever Castiel was doing. You continued on for a while before all of a sudden your swing stopped abruptly, your back met with a solid wall of muscle. You let out an audible “oof” as you craned your neck around to look up at Castiel. “What are you doing, Cas?”

“Something I should have done a long time ago.”

He moved around, now facing you as he grabbed the chains of your swing, he pulled you forward, pulling you up to him as his lips finally found yours, kissing you like you had wanted him to for such a long time. Your hands found their way to his face, cupping his cheeks, completely trusting in the fact that his angelic strength would keep you locked in that position for as long as Castiel so desired.

There was now a shimmer to Castiel’s wings, as if his grace was pumping through them. Their strength was just about back to full power; nearly completely healed.

This night could not have been any more perfect. You were alone with Castiel; the both of you had the motel room to yourselves for the night while Sam and Dean did some reconnaissance of a warehouse where they believed a nest of vampires were staying. Castiel held you in his arms, swaying the both of you to the faint music on the radio. You snuggled into his chest, letting him move you to the music, breathing him in. You murmured softly, “I can’t remember a time where I was ever so happy, Cas. You are so incredibly important to me and I feel so deeply for you.”

Castiel halted your movements, taking both of your hands into his own, pressing them to his lips.

“Ever since I’ve been with the Winchesters, I have felt as though I have straddled both Heaven and Earth; no longer belonging to either place. It has been a feeling I have been struggling with for years. Spending this time with you has taught me that although I do not belong to either place, all I need is to belong to you, and that keeps me sated. I feel whole because you feel like home.”

You looked up at him, tears welling up in your eyes as you reached up to kiss him, putting everything that you are into his lips, your arms wrapping around him, your body pressed flushed against his. “Cas…I don’t even know what to say right now…”

“Then don’t. Just feel with me. Be at home with me, (Y/N).”

Castiel’s wings, now fully healed wrapped around you, shielding you from potential dangers and keep you close to him. You couldn’t see them, but it was as though you felt a blanket of comfort and warmth draped around you.

That was the most important, most beautiful memory you had. They say when you are about to die, your most important memories replay in your mind. Your mind kept showing you memories of the time you had spent with Castiel everything from simple little moments, up until the moment you knew that the both of you loved each other.

The demons tortured you relentlessly, trying to get a location of the Winchesters out of you. Naturally you didn’t tell them a single thing, which obviously pissed them off. They beat you down, leaving you within mere moments of death, your vision blurring, fingers growing cold. All you could think of was Castiel, his blue eyes burned into your memory.

As if out of nowhere, a near-blinding white light filled the room in which you were being held, the force of it almost painful. You struggled to close your eyes, worried that you may not be able to open them again. You could see the magnificent form of wings, full and lush, against one of the back walls. It took a while for your eyes to focus, but as they do, you see blue, nearly crying as you see the beautiful eyes of your lover.

Without a word he smites them all, quickly coming to your aid, his gaze becoming pained as he takes in your pitiful state. His voice is strained as he speaks. “Please forgive me for not getting here sooner…”

Castiel pressed his lips to your forehead, his grace flowing into you, healing you, bringing you back from the brink of death. He literally kissed away your wounds, gathering you up into his arms. You looked up at him, your beautiful, brave, selfless angel and you smiled, feeling so very grateful that you did not have to part with him yet; you were blessed with more time with him, precious time that you would never take for granted.

“I love you, Castiel.”

“There is nothing more precious to me in the entirety of existence than you, (Y/N). ‘I love you’ does not have enough depth to describe what I feel for you.”

You smiled, arms wrapping around his neck. “I saw them, you know. Your wings…well at least what my eyes would allow me to see. They looked amazing! When I first saw them, they were…well…nearly bare. But now…they are glorious!”

He smiled down at you thoughtfully. “Yes, they are completely healed. I never imagined that they would be returned to their unblemished state, knowing the condition that they were in. However, it seems that spending time with you has healed them, healed me. I will spend the rest of eternity taking care of you. But first…I think we will need to make sure you are completely healed.”

You kissed him, feeling content, knowing that you were finally home as well.

@abaddonwithyall @bovaria @icecream-and-gadreel @bkwrm523 @aprofoundbondwithdean @for-the-love-of-dean @castielspahdehrah @spnashley @spnfanficpond @orlislilypad @oriona75 @blushingsamgirl @kittenofdoomage @nebulanoxx @mrswhozeewhatsis @but-deans-back-tho @ilostmyshoe-79 @mysupernaturalfics @manawhaat @deans-colette @thegleegeneration @pada-ackles @sis-tafics @theerinpage @ohfora67impala @fulldisclosureash

I tried to tag everyone I could think of!

#spn #castiel #castiel x reader #castiel/reader #repost #new blog #one of my favorite pieces

22 notes · View notes

youngerdaniel · 5 years ago

Text

Youngo’s 2019 at the Movies (with Baby Yoda)

IT’S THAT TIME AGAIN, FOLKS...

Wherein this blog crawls out of the woodwork with fresh aspirations for a more consistent content strategy in the year to come. Like a Baby Yoda emerging from his floating iron egg to great the sun. So let’s dust off some cobwebs and talk about the great movies that came out in 2019.

BRIEF UPDATES FROM THE WAFFLER This year marked a turning point. No, not that fucking decade that everybody’s making a big deal about. Not even that I hit 30 but thankfully have most of my (still not totally gray) hair... Nope, I went into business for myself. I leapt off the stable lily pad of 9-5 etc. and went freelance! Life’s been full of stories since then -- both the kind I write, and the kind I get to look under the hood on. I’m happy to report I’ve written more than ever before... Just not blogs, and mostly stuff I’m not at liberty to discuss.

*Clears throat. Pulls up the collar on his trench coat.* And I may have had more hair turn gray. Turns out, running your own ship is quite a bit of work, especially when you’re teaching yourself how the hell you do it. Nevertheless, I loved the shit out of every minute of it, and I still use phrases like nevertheless. It could easily be a blog (or several) for a different time, but the short and easy explanation of the absence is I was busy, it was fun, get over it.

Besides, we don’t actually care about whatever lame excuse I have for why I haven’t been posting. We’re here because it’s 2020 and time for a listicle, dammit! This one is neither definitive nor ranked. But dang if 2019′s fodder didn’t come sauntering into theaters like the big chuckling cherub of Christmas Present, with a cornucopia of awesomeness.

THINGS I LOVED, IN NO PARTICULAR ORDER:

UNDER THE SILVER LAKE David Robert Mitchell’s neo noir takes a fittingly existential approach to detective fiction. An enigmatic case, hidden clues and coded pop culture, Andrew Garfield’s charmingly hapless sleuth... There’s a lot to love in this weird soup of a movie. At times nightmarish, often trippy, and an excellent performance from a parrot. Late night fodder.

CLIMAX Gaspar Noe does not make sane movies. With Climax, there’s a hypnotic quality that sucks you in and drags you along on its nightmarish journey as a group of dancers drink from a punchbowl laced with drugs. The result is absolute bedlam, and everything from the lighting to the camerawork pulls its weight to put you into the action. This is the kind of thing you watch and marvel that, “Wow, they went there.” to varying degrees of satisfaction. Like a freight train barreling toward the side of a mountain, it’s hard to look away even though you know you probably should.

JOJO RABBIT And then there’s a different kind of madness. The movie that billed itself as “The movie that shouldn’t work.” Jojo Rabbit is so full of heart. This is Taika Waititi in full force, and hilarity meets real pathos. Love is better than Nazis. It’s a simple message, and I think it doesn’t need to be much more. The relevance of such a narrative in our time is pretty disappointing, but the truth seems to be that we need ones like this to come along and remind the collective. The mashup of humor with genuine drama is balanced in a way that will feel familiar to fans of THE HUNT FOR THE WILDERPEOPLE or BOY. The performances are superb, and it’s a beautiful looking film. If you missed it last year, start the new one off right and amend this problem.

US The thing I dug the most about US was how unique it felt. Original premises in horror are on the rise, and there’s no denying the man leading the wave is Jordan Peele. The social commentary elements of this followup to GET OUT play with a little more subtlety, and in some ways it almost felt like a stronger move... But I refuse to compare the two of them. US stands out in its own right, and carries some of the most memorable performances of the year. A twisting narrative that crackles with tension, and a concept that haunts the imagination. What if your every action had an equal an opposite effect on a mirrored version of yourself? A study on the impact of the class system, and a nightmarish what-if to explain the real life series of underground tunnels that span the United States. Also, that costume design! That Alexa gag! The way this one opens up at the midpoint was such a delight in the theater. I’d apologize for spoilers, but let’s be real... You’ve seen this movie.

AD ASTRA Best summed up as “Daddy Issues in Space,” AD ASTRA feels like the kind of sci-fi mysteries that were made in the late 70s and 80s. A spellbinding journey to the far edges of the galaxy to save the world, and maybe prove that aliens exist. Oh, and to stop your possibly insane father from destroying the human race on the way. Brad Pitt is on fire, and everything about this potent emotional journey remains focused on his character’s dilemma of deciding whether or not his father was a good man, what it means to him and his own isolated existence, and whether he can overcome that shit and live a life instead of taking risks. From its opening scene to its closing one, this one blends gripping life-or-death set-pieces exploring the dangers of space travel and the cyclical nature of humanity’s progress with small moments. The journey, the heart-wrenching climax, and the harrowing trip home is well worth the rental fee. Check it out.

THE GIRL ON THE THIRD FLOOR

Some horror movies exist to make you think, some exist to cover their protagonists in black goo, subject them to grueling physical and psychological lament, and chuck ‘em through a woodchipper for good measure. The Girl on the Third Floor takes your average premise of “Stubborn and troubled guy picks a fixer-upper house to flip, only to discover horrors beyond his imagining” and leans hard into the gross-outs and festering boils of body horror. Reminiscent of Evil Dead, Amityville, and Dead Alive, there’s so much insanity to love, and the movie makes some big turns -- some surprising, some daring, some a little out there. It is by no means perfect, but it’s got a charm about its rough edges. You will never look at a marble the same way again.

I LOST MY BODY

I know. “A life-affirming work” left me a little skeptical too. But from its very first frame, I LOST MY BODY is arresting. Its hypnotic narrative follows the story of a severed hand in search of its owner, and has great fun carrying you along with its troubled protagonist’s journey from a crush to obsession. The sheer amount of visual storytelling and striking imagery is worth the runtime, but for any arthouse lovers feeling a little too chilled to hop down to the nearest indie theatre can open a new tab and have at it. Didn’t expect to be as moved by this one as I was, and for that I must recommend it.

AVENGERS: ENDGAME The fact that a movie like this can even exist is pretty amazing, and I have to say, as the culmination to the Avengers saga as we know it, ENDGAME delivered something with way more heart and character than I expected. Funny, sad, bittersweet, and massively satisfying. This is the Thanksgiving Turkey dinner of movies. It’s got everything. But the best part for me was how little fighting the big superhero finale of the decade had to it. Firmly rooted in character, taking ambitious and surprising turns in their trajectories, and balancing the fanwanks with a genuinely exciting story. I mean, c’mon. Time heist? A Greatest Hits play that also recontextualizes a few of the lesser films of the sweeping franchise? The third act battle felt a little tacked-on, but the conclusion felt like exactly what we needed.

READY OR NOT I love this movie. Love it like an adorable, scrappy friend who always manages to make their social commentary entertaining. Hide and Seek turns deadly for a bride to be when she meets her future in-laws, the proprietors of a board game company that takes their product very seriously. A darkly funny survive-the-gauntlet-till-morning ride. Great characters. Awesome kills. A few really unexpected and delightfully devilish turns. Oh, and it takes a stab at privilege and how far some people are willing to go to preserve theirs. It’s got teeth, a mean bite, and it’s fun to walk around the neighborhood. If you liked YOU’RE NEXT, you will probably love this movie. I still can’t get its final few moments out of my head. And I mean that in the best way.

PARASITE Speaking of social criticism and privilege, there’s no denying the brute fucking force of PARASITE. Following a struggling family who imbed themselves into a rich family by posing as the help, this madcap game of suspense takes so many surprising turns that even describing the full plot spoils the fun. Go into this one having read as little as possible. It will take you for a spin. Part con movie, part social critique, part comedy and part tragedy, it’s a lot to digest, but it’s a damned tasty treat.

KNIVES OUT In a word, it’s fun. Rian Johnson’s locked room murder mystery packs some wonderful barbs in the side of affluence, armchair activism, and the corruptive nature of wealth. A wealthy novelist is found dead, and all of his family members have motive... But don’t let the familiar set-up fool you, KNIVES OUT plays fair with its audience, but it is a fast runner. The story jumps ahead of you almost every time you think you’ve got it figured out. Daniel Craig’s genius sleuth is full of likable energy, protagonist Marta is full of layers, and the family are all such a pleasure to watch. Several times along the trip, I had no idea where the story would turn next, or how much further the envelope could be pushed, but by the end, I came out marveling at its construction. The production design is unreal. The direction and vibe are so unique, and by the closing image, it’s nearly impossible not to enjoy the shift in values. There’s also a speech involving donuts that I will be reciting at parties for the foreseeable future.

DANIEL ISN’T REAL

I closed off the year with this wildly inventive take on the possession trope. This. Movie. Is. Nuts. Which, considering it was produced by the same folks who did MANDY, shouldn’t come as a surprise. A mind-bending tale that riffs on Jekyll and Hyde, with a great modernization tackling the concept from a mental health perspective... It’s not the first time it’s been done, but the execution is just excellent. We follow a disturbed young man whose imaginary friend hatched from a childhood trauma makes a devilish return to play hell with his adult life. It’s a psychological horror that’s FIGHT CLUB meets THE DOUBLE. Great look. Excellent creature design and visuals for a cosmic horror that makes great use of low budget devices. If you’re looking for the answer to the age old question of “Should my third act involve my protagonist battling his inner demons literally with a rooftop sword fight?” You’ve found your contender.

I’ll tell you this, reader friend. The hardest part about 2019′s slate at the box office was deciding what to see. There were so many interesting movies that came out, brimming with big ideas and social commentary. Sad as the state of the world is, there’s no denying times of unrest have a knack for yielding great art. The Trump era has made its stamp on Hollywood for better or for worse. But the rising tide of voices pushing back give me a bit of hope, and a lot of salve for the whole existential dread thing. I think that, however small it is, is good.

For what it’s worth, none of these films are reinventing the wheel or burning flags... But they are asking questions. Okay, CLIMAX, really isn’t asking anything, but it is fun as hell. There’s just as much merit in the salve as there is in the flame that caused the burn. So may your 2020 be full of entertainment. I’ll try to get some useful content up here at least every couple of months in smaller digestible forms. Now go forth and brunch, you hungover, resolution-breaking slob.

#journal #yearinmovies #2019 #year in review #baby yoda #movies #writing

14 notes · View notes

elaineintokyo · 5 years ago

Text

Final (maybe) thoughts - the Light (good) side.

OTHER RESOLUTIONS:

There were a lot of things I really really started to hate about the episode after rewatching it more and more. It’s like the more I watched it, the less it made sense, the more I felt the episode COULD HAVE done things better. But that said, I do rewatch the movie to see if I can get a different take out of it, so here are some resolutions I kinda got after some rewatch.

These parts cover the things I first hated about TROS, and then somewhat found resolutions within myself for them.

Finn

- In Episode 7, there most likely wasn’t any inclination at all by the creators to make Rey and Kylo a romantic thing. Most likely, they were probably more interested in a darkside-lightside struggle and battle. It’s really, in this case, Rian who made it a tad bit more interesting by putting in a romantic aspect and then with J.J. having to justify and to use Rey-Kylo’s connection by making them a force dyad.

- So then, which left us with Finn. Poor guy. I think he really got sidelined with Rey. Whether it be racism or just out of a story necessity, while Rian is popular with fans for his “support” of minorities in leading roles, there was a definite move to separate Finn and Rey in Episode 8, so that Rey and Kylo’s relationship can be developed.

- so that said, Finn was FUCKING ANNOYING in Episode 9. Like seriously, it made him like this guy who’s constantly chasing after a dog in heat. Seriously. INCREDIBLY fucking annoying. His character could’ve been used to do so much more! (Like in Episode 8!), but instead he was just made to be like this lovelorn guy WHILE the whole time, Rey is battling this demon inside her while being egged on by her jerk ex-crush whom probably she knows as much as she hates him, he’s probably the only one closest to understanding how she feels.

- While some people said that Rey pushed Finn back with the force (more like shoved!) to protect him, I didn’t feel that way. Not even after watching so many times. It was clear she was angry with Kylo and this was between HER and KYLO and she was clearly telling him to BACK OFF!

Resolution:

I talked to a friend and told him about how I hated that Finn was soooooo pathetic and annoying for chasing Rey, but he told me that he was chasing after her to prevent her from falling to the dark side.

That actually made A LOT of sense to me and I really think so. Finn was trying to tell Rey the whole time that he’s force sensitive, so he probably understands her feeling and he knows what she’s going through. So he’s trying to stop her from going to the dark side.

He said it to Poe

Finn: We need to go after her. She’s not herself. You dont know what she’s going through.

Poe: And you do?

Finn: Yeah I do. And so does Leia.

I think he says “and so does Leia” because it implies force users.

And when he goes to the Death Star, she’s already possessed at that point and completely giving into the dark in her rage to hill Kylo, and that’s why he keeps going to her.

Then she fucking shoved him away, like, it really shows she’s in the dark now!

So Yeah... looking at it from the point of view that he’s trying to protect his bestie, not from Kylo Ren, but from herself, I think his whole fucking REYYYYYYY!! REEEEEEYYYYYYYYYYY! REEEEEEEYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!! the whole episode ain’t that annoying afterall.

Dark Rey

- I think this one I kinda blame not just J.J. and the team but I also think part of it is due to Daisy too.

- Firstly, seriously, Rey is lightside as fuck! Like okay not lightside, but she really DOES have the purest of hearts and there is NO WAY IN HELL (or Exagol) that she would EVER turn dark.

In her lowest of low, saddest and loneliest moment, she had REJECTED Kylo and his proposal to rule with darkness.

It was COMPLETELY unbelievable and so so so so shallow that she would ever turn to the dark side just because she finds out that she’s a Palpatine.

Haaaaa? WHAT?????? Completely unbelievable! Utter rubbish!

So anyway, to leave the whole Palpatine Sith thing aside, and let’s just talk about “dark side” of force fighting, Rey has always been fighting with dark side haha.

Rey is always emotional in her fights, always charged with some kind of strong emotion (whether trying to defeat Kylo in Ep 7 or wanting to KILL SNOKE in ANGER Ep 8, or knocking Luke down and almost killing him in Ep 8), she’s always fought with emotions, which is NOT the way of the Jedi.

So that aside, to talk about the context of Episode 9 and Rey’s struggle, which is why I think Daisy is definitely an inferior actor compared to Adam.

I think Daisy plays anger and sadness well (Ep 8 in all her loneliness and also in the throne room when Kylo breaks her heart), and she does strong emotions very very well, but she doesn’t play subtleties well, and absolutely not to the degree that Adam mastered it with Kylo.

Like you can’t tell the difference between Rey’s emotionally charged fights/moments in the past, with her seemingly becoming more and more dark in Episode 9. They all seem the same to me.

Except for that scene in the ship when she talks to Finn after killing Chewy where she did fear incredibly well, in the other scenes you can’t tell if Rey is feeling anger or fear or what? How is she turning dark? You can’t see the change.

This is unlike Kylo where Adam’s slight relaxation in his expressions show hesitation (Kylo not blasting his mom away), or even just the slight quiver in his voice when he says “(you can’t go back to her) just like I can’t”, or the desperation is Adam’s little “please”. A fleeting moment, so subtle, yet so powerfully conveyed.

Sorry, but Daisy didn’t deliver Rey’s conflict anywhere close to that of Adam with Kylo.

I think the biggest failure of this were in BOTH of the MOST CRUCIAL scene for her character’s development.

The first: in the hangar where Kylo tells Rey her parentage.

Yes, you could see first the shock in Rey, and when Kylo gives her his hand (not again) and says “you know what you must do, don’t you?”..

Then the camera is on Daisy and Rey is thinking, then she says “I do”.

Then she flees.

Like, firstly, her expression when Kylo offers her his proposal was unclear. Was she conflicted? Did she want to give in this time? Was still still in shock?

Then when she changes and says “I do”.

You can see her facial expression change, but it’s not clear enough to convey Rey’s decision to kill Palpatine.

The “I do” felt more like “yeah I do know I don’t want to fucking take your hand so goodbye!”, instead of the life changing decision of “I’m gonna kill that motherfucker who killed my parents and robbed me of a family!! Die you fucking asshole!!”

Nope.

Totally not obvious in that scene.

Took me like 3 watch to figure out that OHHHHHH she meant she knows she have to kill Palpatine! 🤦🏻‍♀️

The second failure: In the confrontation with Palpatine.

I don’t know but maybe Daisy AGAIN didn’t convey the weight of that moment subtly but powerfully enough (sigh.....), so it’s really unclear what drove her to say okay. I think Daisy’s acting, as I said, is not at all on par with Adam’s level when it comes to portraying a change of emotions at the turn of a coin.

Actually maybe actually in this case I lay the blame on J.J. who was probably horrendous in conveying to Daisy what her character was feeling. So as a director it was HE who fucked up directions.

Coz I thought Daisy played a conflicted Rey well in the love-disappointment-hate really, really, really, well in Episode 8’s throne room scene between and unrepentant Kylo and a heartbroken Rey.

Butttttt the ENTIRE ending sequence dialogue between Rey and Palpatine was sooooooo vague.

The entire sequence where she looks up at the Rebellion fleet being destroyed, you can’t tell if Rey is angry? Sad? Desperate? Devastated? Fearful?

The emperor mentions hate hate and anger first but when she first saw the emperor I felt Rey’s feeling was FEAR.

Then when she really defiantly says “you want me to hate you but I don’t”. Like it just takes away the anger motivation.

Which is when the emperor opens up the roof to show her the rebellion and she has some sort of reaction. But the look on Daisy’s face is not of anger or hate but more of like fear and heartbreak and sadness that her friends are in trouble and are dying.

You can’t tell at all, whether Rey indeed was hating the Emperor but it was CRUCIAL to know her feelings because it’s the impetus that drives her decision to be a Sith or not, and according to Sith/Jedi ways of fighting, the emotions behind the kill is what differentiates the two.

If she kills in fear to save her friends- it’s self defense is it not? Hence how can the sith posses her then?

But if she strikes in anger, then the sith can.

But it’s incredibly vague what she was feeling and NOT AT ALL CONVINCING that Rey is being engulfed by darkness.

Unless of course it’s despair, which leads to the darkside, and I think like if that was indicated, Rey’s pull to become the Sith would’ve been clearer and more convincing.

At last, it ALSO rang cheap and hollow.

🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄

Resolution (somewhat)

So watching and rewatching the episode again, I realized that.. Rey was super angry with Kylo... lolololll

I’m not sure if this is considered Rey becoming Dark, but she was super pissed with Kylo, and he always drives (hm!) the anger in her tempting her to the darkside, somwhat almost succeeding this time.

So in their first showdown in the second force tug-of-war over Chewie’s transport, it was when Rey got super angry with her asshole ex-crush that she unleashed her darkside force KABOOM!

Then, in the second showdown his his quarters (sexy), the moment he called her name “Rey”, fucking hell, she drew her lightsaber immediately andddd instead of reacting in FEAR “oh shit! Supreme leader found me!” it was more like “not you fucking asshole again! Fuck off!!!!”.

And the more he talked, the angrier she got. And like, I don’t think Kylo was taunting her like he did in TLJ when he called her nothing, he was trying to get her to accept what she is, but she’s the one who’s in denial and got more and more angry with him trying to tell her to face the truth (albeit for selfish reasons of his own to make her realize she can’t resist the dark side).

So at that time, you kinda feel Rey’s angry and she’s just attacking Kylo. That totally not fucking Jedi way of fighting! But then again... she was just trying to shut him up???

And finally, the Death Star scene, which is pivotal to say the least! (for both Kylo and Rey!)

I’m still not too convinced that meeting Dark Rey in the imperial vault was Rey’s turning point to the darkside. I felt the vault is like the dark cave in a Jedi’s training when they face their worst fears. Dark Rey is Rey’s worst fear. So I don’t think it’s what she has become.

That’s why when Kylo says “look what you have become” and “you can’t go back to her (Leia) now”, I don’t think it’s too true. Not yet anyway.

But I do think that Rey was fucking pissed off at Kylo from the get go and when she snapped “Give it to me”, it was pure anger and Adam inserted a slight reaction there which I still interpret as “oh shit scarryyyy!!”. Haha.

Scary!Rey!

Then, when he crushed the Sith Wayfinder, I think that’s when Rey really fucking snapped!

I’m not sure if she snapped because (1) fucking Kylo Ren ruined my chance to find and kill the emperor!! Or (2) fucking Kylo Ren give up already! Do I have fucking kill you to break up with you??? Fucccckkk dieeeee!!

From then on, you can really see that she’s fighting with hate and anger towards Kylo.

Will probably write a separate thing about Kylo-Rey fights but Rey hasn’t really fought will Kylo with totally intent to kill. She’s always been fighting him off to FLEE, but on the Death Star, at the beginning, she was really fighting to kill him once and for all.

And in the part where she force pushed away Finn, her last thread of sanity to the lightside, she’s really warped in the sole intent to kill Kylo in her anger and hate.

And she DOES fucking stabs him to death when after he INTENTIONALLY dropped his own lightsaber and was technically HEY! **UNARMED!!!**

So basically Rey killed an unarmed person in anger and hatred.

And if you look at her facial expression when she stabbed the fuck out of Kylo, it was anger!

Anddddddddd it’s only when she sensed Leia’s death that she snapped out of her trance and realized OH FUCK! What have I done?!?! Oh shit!! I killed her son!!!!!!!!!

Anddddddddddd which is why I think her reaction after that was soooo extreme that she decided to run off and become a hermit in Ahch-to, coz she knew what she could become and HAD BECOME indeed in that fleeting moment.

Kylo on the other hand, I think at first, he was not intending to kill her (the only way you’re coming to Exagol is with me), but the last part where Rey flies above the waves but then Kylo just comes through the wave MASSIVELY (as Daisy would put it ;) ) and walked directly to her, I think Kylo did decide to kill her at that time and which is why FINALLY he got the upper hand.

Rey’s reaction to Ben’s Death.

Ive already touched on Ben’s death in another post, so I’ll touch on her reaction (or lack of one) instead in this post.

Many maaaaaannnyyy people were complaining and upset that Rey didn’t even so much as shed a tear when her force dyad died. No mourning or anything at all. In fact she was even sadder when Finn was almost killed!

Which is allllllll true and valid arguments which added to my feeling that Ben Solo the last true Skywalker was completely discarded.

Resolution

I’d like to think of her reaction, firsr when he falls, you can see that she was about to cry, then suddenly she relaxes and looks relieved holding on to his hand as his body disappears and becomes one with the force.

I want to believe that Rey could feel his presence in the force, even though his physical body vanishes. And, being a dyad in the force, and also since he did transfer all his force energy to her, perhaps just perhaps, his half of the dyad force reunites in her at that moment, which is why, she doesn’t feel sad, and which is why his force ghost doesn’t appear. He is now part of her, technically, recombined back together in her.

Also like.... I think... Ben would not have wanted her to be alone and lonely, because he know how lonely she has been her whole life.

But making the choice to give his life to her, he wanted her to be alive.

And I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t have wanted her to be alone. So, I’m sure she still feels his force connection somewhere in the force. Plus remember the force voices telling her “alone never have you been” (Yoda).

Or so I want to think.

(My heart is going with oh please just let them fuck and have babies instead and combine their force in them babies instead!!! Bleh)

Other Observations/Realizations

Kylo’s transformation into Ben Solo

So a lot of people have already pointed out how Kylo’s demeanor had changed 180 degrees after he became Ben Solo.

There’s a whole brilliant thread somewhere here on Tumblr or Twitter (I think it’s Twitter), that analyzed Adam’s facial portrayal of Kylo and Ben. How Kylo is always wearing an expressionless unnatural mask even without an actual mask on but how his espressions completely relax and become natural after he comes Ben Solo again.

(Dude if this theory is true, just adds another feather on Adam’s hat! Seriously!)

And of course, there are also other similarities between Ben and the Solo moves he pulls, like using his blaster without looking, and how he’s like “heh, bring it on” with the Knights of Ren.

But I think, one of the biggest change in Ben that can be seen was Adam’s very last line: “ow” when he lands on the chain after jumping into the hole in Exegol.

Like everyone was saying in Episode 7, that even after being blasted by Chewie’s bow, Kylo toughens himself up by hitting his wound and seemingly showing no signs of pain.

But here, just with one word: “ow”- Ben Solo reclaims his humanity.

Brilliant!

Ben Solo’s arrival to help Rey

In the end, I would like to think that.. haha.. Ben defied his father’s advice to return home and “what she stood for, what she fought for, that’s not dead”.

I always wondered about that line, like was Han asking him to go to the rebellion base to help the Rebellion? Like isn’t that home? Or was he asking Ben to help the rebellion.

I think it’s the latter of course, but of course by help, he races to find Rey. Lolololll

On the first watch, I always thought that Rey didn’t sense Ben’s presence right until before they force connected themselves when Rey was holding the lightsaber.

But on second watch and subsequent viewings, I realized that she actually felt his presence the moment he landed.

The introduction of Ben Solo on Exagol was a side profile shot of Adam coming into frame, then he runs into the massive building.

The side profile shot of Ben cuts to a side profile shot of Rey, who until that moment was frozen in terror of the choice she’s being forced to make.

But once Ben arrives, she just turns to the emperor as if nothing and just nods her head like “yep ok sure let’s go with what you just said” and easily agreed.

And if you look at Daisy’s acting and how Rey turns to face the emperor when she senses Ben’s presence nearby (but not her ForceTime her) .

And remember every time before they actually ForceTime connect, they sense each other’s presence FIRST, then only connect and exist in the same space together.

So this was the moment they felt each other before, they finally dailed into each other’s physical presence later here:

I don’t know but maybe Daisy AGAIN didn’t convey the weight of that moment subtly but powerfully enough (sigh.....), so it’s really unclear what drove her to say okay. I don’t think Daisy’s acting, as I said, is to Adam’s level when it comes to portraying a change of emotions at the turn of a coin.

Actually maybe actually in this case J.J. was also probably horrendous in conveying to Daisy what her character was feeling.

The entire sequence where she looks up at the Rebellion fleet being destroyed, you can’t tell if Rey is angry? Sad? Desperate? Devastated? Fearful?

You can’t tell at all, and I think it’s so important to know because it’s the impetus that drives her decision to be a Sith or not, and according to Sith/Jedi ways of fighting, the emotions behind the kill is what differentiates the two.

If she kills in fear to save her friends- it’s self defense is it not? Hence how can the sith posses her then?

But if she strikes in anger, the the sith can.

But it’s incredibly vague what she was feeling.

But anyway, whatever it was, I feel on more viewings, it’s clear she probably felt Ben’s presence, coz she turned around really quickly and like hiding a secret, to keep the emperor from realizing, she just nods “yes”.

And then she gets more and more and more fearful and worried as she moment approaches to kill the emperor but her boyfriend’s late.

So I think when she finally feels him close enough and the opportunity is there, and their FaceTime finally gets through, she completely relaxes and knows it’s gonna be okay.

Transferring the lightsaber via their upgraded ForceTime2.0 was a brilliant move.

And I really really like that after Ben defeats the Knights of Ren, he like snaps out of it and you can see him “oh no! (My girlfriend) Rey!” and anxiousness floods his face and he quickly runs to the sith throne room.

TIE fighter & the X-Wing

While some Reylo’s read this one specific shot of Ben’s TIE fighter and Rey’s X-Wing being side by side as proof that the both of them were meant to survive and go back together, I didnt think nor feel so.

I think the shot was representation of the decades-long fight between the empire (the TIE fighter) and the rebellion (the X-Wing) parked side by side, coming together, UNITED and AT LAST fighting side by side together.

Kylo-Rey Battles

I realized that Kylo never really seeks to kill Rey EVER.

ALL his fights were to actually get her to join his side.

Even from the very first fight in the forest, her tells her “you need a teacher. I can teach you the ways of the force”.

And from then on, he never actually kills her.

Even after his vow to destroy Rey and the rebellion at the end of Episode 8, does he actually goes out to kill them? NO. Instead he’s hunting for Palpatine. 🤦🏻‍♀️

Except for the lightsaber tug-of-war, there’s no Kylo-Rey battles in Episode 8.

Which leads us to Episode 9, where they had a total of 4 confrontations.

The first transport tug-of-war frigging Rey’s the one who slices his TIE fighter. Then he doesn’t kill her or tries to fight with her, instead they engage in a toy-fighting. What.

Then second in his chambers and Kajimi. As I mentioned in an earlier post, SHE was the one striking him, and he merely just wanted to talk. What!

Then the third in the hanger, AGAIN, ample opportunity to fight, but instead, they just talk AND he proposes marriage, AGAIN!

Then finally at the Battle on the Death Star wreckage, it was REY who drew her lightsaber AGAIN first!

And you could see Adam doing Kylo like dropping his hands “not again girl, aren’t you tired of fighting??”

Anddddddd so on the Death Star, as I had mentioned, I don’t think Kylo wanted to kill Rey at the start of the fight, which I felt was the usually defensive fight.

But, at the very end when Kylo is walking determinedly towards Rey, he FINALLY makes up his mind to kill her, which is why FOR ONCE he actually got the upper hand and was able to overpower her.

BUTTTTTTTTTT watching and rewatching the episode, i also think that it’s possible that when Rey cried after being disarmed, Kylo hesitated for a moment to deal the fatal blow and it’s in that split second of an opening that Leia reaches him. And he completely senses his mother and discarded his saber..... 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭💔💔💔💔💔💔💔 so sadddddddd so in the end he’s just mommy’s boyyyyyyyyy wanting to be loved by his mommmmm!!! 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭💔💔💔💔💔💔

1 note · View note

kumeko · 6 years ago

Text

three’s company

Character/Pairing: Zen/Jaehee/MC

A/N: written for the @mysmelovethroughtheages Zine. This is my fav ship from the series.

Summary: No matter how they were reborn, as a knight, as an actor, as nurse, they always find each other again.

...

8th century

“For my lady.” With a flourish, Zen offered a single red rose. His silver hair gleamed in the morning sun as he kneeled in front of MC at the steps of the castle keep. It was a mixture of public and private, as it was with almost all of his gestures.

She liked that about him, how he was never afraid to show his feelings in public. How he knew how to keep some things private. “Thank you.” With a smile, her fingers curled around the stem. Raising it to her nose, she closed her eyes as a cloying scent swept through her. “It’s beautiful.”

“Not as beautiful as you,” Zen answered, not missing a beat, and she would have been forgiven for laughing at how quickly his cheeks reddened. Despite what he desired, he was not quite as princely as he pretended to be.

That was more than fine, MC preferred it that way. She kissed the flower. “I think it’s you who puts the flower to shame.”

It was too easy sometimes. Zen flushed darker, a pleased smile on his lips. Despite his claims that he didn’t need the compliments, she’d seen how he looked in the mirror, how he perked up when the ladies twittered about him. Subtlety was not his forte. He kissed her hand in response, sending a tingle running up her spine as he looked at her.

In the distance, she could hear a bugle cry and her expression darkened. “It’s nearly time, isn’t it?”

He didn’t let go of her hand as he rose, his thumb brushing her knuckles. Regretfully, he nodded. “The war will start soon.”

MC pressed her forehead into his chest. “I…I don’t want you to go.”

“Nor do I want to leave you.” He stroked her hair, his fingers intertwining with her locks. Pressing a kiss on the top of her head, he pulled away. “Yet the king must have his wars.”

“The king is stupid,” MC muttered, cross and defiant.

Zen pressed his finger to her lips, shushing her. “Do not let him hear you say that.” Hugging her now, he whispered in her ear. “Besides, I do this to protect you. No king can tear me from you otherwise.”

MC flushed. Zen was always more charming when he wasn’t trying. Slowly, she nodded, still not agreeing but there was nothing else they could do. “Be safe.”

“Of course.” Zen let go, smiling brightly. “I have my goddess of protection.”

She wasn’t quite sure why but those words sent a tremor of fear through her. As though someone had just stepped on her grave. On his grave. Watching his back shrink in the distance, she wondered if that would be the last time she saw him.

“I am sure he will be fine, my lady.” Jaehee approached MC from behind, squeezing MC’s shoulder comfortingly.

“I hope so.” MC glanced at her handmaiden, at the strength in her expression. It was comforting and she covered Jaehee’s hand with her own. A spike of lightning ran through her at the touch, not unlike the sensation she had with Zen, but that made no sense. This was Jaehee. Her servant. Shaking out of her thoughts, MC frowned. “I wish he was not a knight.”

“Me neither.” Jaehee gave a small smile. “Yet you have to admit, he does look very dashing in his armour.”

MC giggled, feeling a little relieved. “Don’t let him hear you say that, his ego will swell.”

-x-

19th century

“He’s calling for you again,” MC said, coming to a stop next to Jaehee.

She looked up from her papers, the nib of her pen gleaming black from freshly dipped ink. “Who?”

MC felt like she could just sigh, just how oblivious could a girl get? They had been coworkers for almost a year now, newly minted nurses that graduated the same year. A year and Jaehee still didn’t understand why some of her male patients flushed under during her examinations or gave her flowers as thanks when they recovered.

But then again, that might have been part of Jaehee’s charm. MC couldn’t deny that she was smitten with that side of her friend herself. Hand on her hip, MC pointed up at the floor above. “Patient 302.”

“302…Zen?” Jaehee stuttered, averting her gaze as she looked at her papers, at the wall, at anything but MC. It was rare to see the usually put-together Jaehee in a disarray. It was utterly adorable. “Me?”

“Yeah.” MC smiled, taking the pen out of Jaehee’s hand. “You should go see what he wants.”

“Me?” Jaehee squeaked as MC yanked her up. It was no secret that Jaehee had a crush on him—in an entirely professional way, she insisted when they asked. He was just very handsome, and she liked to look, and that. Was. All.

Handsome. That was definitely the word for it. He was attractive, no doubt about it, even if he was a penniless actor. If she didn’t know better, she would have thought he was a duke or a lord. Maybe in another life he would have been a knight, a real one unlike the ones he acted as. His manners at least matched one and nearly every nurse who had entered his wing had swooned at first sight. Jaehee was the only one strong enough to actually take care of him so it made entirely too much sense that Jaehee was the one he’d call for. MC opened the door to their office. “Yes, you.”

“O-ok.” Jaehee ran a hand through her short hair before putting on the uniform cap. Straightening her clothes, she brushed off any dust and lint before standing straight. “I’ll go see what he wants.”

“Good luck!” MC waved, cheering her as she stiffly marched down the hallway. “Go get him, tiger!”

“It’s not like that!” Jaehee grumbled before she went up the stairs. Her movements were almost mechanical and even her lines were well rehearsed. “I’m just his nurse!”

“Whatever you say!” MC snickered as Jaehee gave a loud stomp. Then, as soon as she was out of sight, out of earshot, she dropped her hand and leaned against the wall. It was easy to picture what would happen upstairs, what route the pair would take. Zen was a nice man. He’d make Jaehee happy.

She wished she could say the same about herself.

-x-

Early 20th century

“He was magnificent,” Jaehee murmured as they exited the theatre. She dabbed her eyes lightly, sighing happily. “Zen is truly a prodigy.”

“Prodigy?” MC pulled out a handkerchief, passing it to Jaehee. She had enjoyed the movie, truly, just as she enjoyed almost every movie Zen was in. He definitely had a gift. However, she just couldn’t find the same level of excitement that her partner got whenever she saw his movies.

“Prodigy,” Jaehee confirmed, neatly folding the handkerchief and stuffing it in her purse. “He can do stage, radio, and now film. Transitioning from one area to the next, unlike any other actor before him. A genius.”

“Right, right.” MC waved it off before Jaehee could go into one of her spiels. At the very least, it could wait till they were home, a warm cup of tea in their hands. It was a cold December and she was loathe to spend more time outside than she had to. “He is certainly living life large.”

Their shoulders bumped as they walked down the street. It was dark and shopkeepers slowly lit the lanterns outside their stores to light up the path. While they still got a few stares now and then, there were some advantages to living in a small town. As long as they weren’t too conspicuous, most people didn’t think too hard when they saw them together. They could be sisters. Friends. Or, even if the truth was suspected, harmless and ignorable.

It happened sometimes. Not often, but Jaehee knew how to make the impossible possible. After a few minutes, Jaehee murmured, “I don’t think he looks happy, though.”

“Huh?” MC blinked, staring at her. She dug her fingers deeper into her pockets, the cold wind cutting her skin. “What do you mean?”

“He smiles in the photographs but…it’s not happy.” Jaehee rubbed her arm uneasily. “It’s just a polite smile. The smile you give because you have to give one.” She bit her lip, no doubt thinking about her childhood.

MC reached out and grabbed Jaehee’s hand, giving it a light squeeze. On their kitchen table were several newspapers, small black and white photographs and articles carefully cut out and taped to scrap paper. Jaehee’s scrapbook was full of Zen’s faces and MC slowly nodded as she thought back to them. “Yeah, I think I can see it.”

“I hope he’s happy one day.” Jaehee sighed, looking up at the sky.

“Me too,” MC agreed. There was nothing they could do but hope; he was a dazzling star after all and they just two ordinary women.

“And I hope that doesn’t interfere with his career,” Jaehee added, almost an afterthought, and MC snickered.

-x-

Late 20th century

There was nothing like seeing a movie. The venue was big, jam packed with other excited people, all of them humming with energy. MC had bought herself a ticket to one of those summer blockbusters, a romantic comedy with a story as old as time. Despite it all, MC was excited—the main lead was this newcomer called Zen and while she’d heard great things about him, this was his first movie she’d watch.

Considering the genre, it was no surprise when she entered the room and found most seats occupied by couples. Unsurprising but no less awkward. It was hard to know where to look and she kept her focus on the stairs. One step. Another. Before she could go any higher, she barreled right into a woman, almost making her fall. “Sorry!” she squeaked as she grabbed her arm, steadying her.

The stranger, a woman with short brown hair, grabbed a seat with her free hand. Once she was out of danger, she bowed her head apologetically. “No, I should have watched where I was going.”

“It was my fault.” MC rubbed her neck sheepishly, her cheeks warm. This was embarrassing. Super embarrassing. “Are you okay?”

“No, no, I’m fine.” The other woman looked up as the theatre lights dimmed. “I think it’s going to start—we should sit.” She looked down her row. “But I don’t think there’s a seat free here.”

“It’s cool.” MC pointed three rows above them. “I saw one there.”

The lights were almost off now and the other woman slid back into her row. “Be careful not to trip!”

“I will.” MC hurried past her, the faint light from the screen barely enough to make out the room. “Sorry again!”

She tripped over six different pairs of feet before landing safely into an empty seat. Around her, she could hear the soft rustling of clothes, a cough, and the light smack of lips. Great. MC was surrounded by couples. It was too bad that stranger didn’t have a free spot next to her, it would have been nice to sit near a friendly, un-attached face. Maybe they could have bought a bite to eat after.

It was too late now. Zen appeared on the screen, accompanied by a dozen sighs, and MC couldn’t stop one from leaving her lips. What a stud.

-x-

21st century

“Sweeties?” Zen slowly blinked awake and MC supressed a giggle at how lost he looked. He had never been a morning person and there was something adorable about how unguarded his expression was. It was a side of him his fans never got to see.

“Still asleep?” She leaned over him, brushing her hair behind her ear. “You’re such a nightowl.”

“I’m a beast of the dark,” he answered, not a trace of embarrassment over that line. Reaching up, he tangled his hand in her hair as he pulled her down for a kiss. “Good morning, honey.”

MC’s ears were hot; somehow, he managed to get that reaction every time. She couldn’t even blame his latest play for it, it was a bit part in a comedy. Not the biggest role, but he was working his way up there. “Good morning to you too.” She pulled back reluctantly.

His hand was still in her hair, curling around her locks as he scanned the room. “Where’s—“

Before he could finish the question, a disarrayed Jaehee dashed into the room. With wide, panicked eyes, she ran to their side table. “Have you seen my phone?”

MC quickly picked it up from their dressing table. “Here, I put it to charge.”

Jaehee’s shoulders slumped forward as she sighed with relief. With a grateful smile, she pecked MC on the lips as she took her phone. “Thank you.” Unlocking it, she quickly thumbed through her messages before finally relaxing. “Good, it seems Jumin hasn’t done anything yet.”

“You should just stop working for the bastard,” Zen grumbled as he sat up, their blankets pooling around his waist and giving them an eyeful of his abs. No matter how many times MC saw them, she appreciated the sight. “He overworks you.”

“He’s been easing up recently. I have less hours.” Jaehee wrapped her arms around her waist. “Especially since I’m no longer on Elizabeth duty.”

“Don’t even say the furball’s name.” He shivered, his hands gripping the edge of the blanket tightly, and for a moment, MC was certain he was going to burrow back into the bed. “I can just feel the sneeze building up.”

“That’s not possible, scientifically,” Jaehee pointed out, though she looked just as pale at the thought of Elizabeth III.

“I think she’s cute,” MC murmured and immediately she felt two icy glares.

“Furballs are not cute but—“

“While I am sure there are certain pleasing—”

Her lovers bombarded her on both sides. She wasn’t sure why she bothered sometimes, it was the same argument over and over. It went beyond fear with these two. Perhaps she should consider investing in therapy. “Sorry, sorry.”

“Oh.” Jaehee cut herself short, glancing at her watch. A panicked expression crossed her face once more. “I have to go.”

“It’s not like he’d be in the office before you,” Zen grumbled, gathering his long hair together and over his shoulder. “Or even on time.”

“That doesn’t mean I shouldn’t.” Jaehee gave a helpless shrug as she turned around.

“Not like that.” MC grabbed her arm before she could go. Her panicked search had wrinkled her outfit and mussed up her hair, which was not quite the look Jaehee wanted to give at work. Her fingers quickly smoothened Jaehee’s shirt, adjusting her tie and straightening her collar. After brushing her hair back, MC let go, satisfied. There, that was better, the impeccable Jaehee was back. “Ok, you’re good.”

“Thanks.” Jaehee pecked her cheek before turning to Zen. “Good luck with practice.”

“Thanks.” Smiling sunnily, he beckoned her over before giving her a good morning kiss. “If you need to punch the bastard, let me know.”

While Jaehee was no longer just Zen’s fangirl, some part of that awe never left her. She blushed, her skin red from the kiss, and she nodded as she stepped back. Even her voice wavered as she responded, “I shouldn’t get to that.”

Maybe it was just a Zen thing. MC was never certain. “I have to go too.”

“Empty house today,” Zen sighed before stretching his arms above him. “I’ll be late myself, loves, I have an audition today.”

“Another one?” MC clapped her hands, excited. “I know you’ll get it.”

Jaehee adjusted her glasses, a sparkle in her eyes. All thoughts of work were out the window. “I’ll get the video camera ready.”

“I might not get it.” Zen warned but he looked pleased nonetheless. He wasn’t famous, not by a longshot, but there was still time. He had the ability, he just had to get his break.

Just like how Jaehee still had to find her dream, the thing that would one day make her quit her hard job with ridiculous hours. And maybe one day they’d hit it rich. Or maybe they wouldn’t, and Zen would remain a two-bit actor and Jaehee would be back on cat-duty, but they’d be together either way. They’d be together and that was more important than anything else.

MC wouldn’t let go of their hands for anything. For once, everything felt just right.

#mystic messenger #zen #jaehee kang #zen/mc #jaehee x mc #zen x mc #jaehee x mc x zen #fanfic

13 notes · View notes

kpopchangedme · 6 years ago

Text

The Intervention | Choi Youngjae

To his best friends’ total amazement, you decide to drastically intervene when a shy man is being played by a mean client at your bar

|| M.List || GOT7 ||

Protagonists: Choi Youngjae & You (Ft. Jackson, Jaebum & Mark.)

Word Count: 3.6k

Genre: SFW – Strangers – Humour – Making out – Romance – **WARNING: SEXY SHY YOUNGJAE AHEAD** – One Shot

Lys’ note: CHOI YOUNGJAE IS HOT. FIGHT ME.

Your eyes followed the young man with interest and you cringed when he knocked a waitress with his elbow, nearly sending all the content of her tray on the floor. Thankfully your staff's awesome and his three friends sitting at the bar in front of you all sighed simultaneously, glad nothing bad happened. You had been observing their circus for a while, highly entertained by their whole team dynamic.

“I told him the secret was to be chill...” The handsome built one grimaced, also staring at the scene. “This isn’t chill.”

“Sorry to inform you of that Jackson, but I think that’s about as chill as he can get…” The second one shrugged, sipping at his pint of beer. He wasn’t as invested and kept his eyes on his phone instead of living the moment. He was a pretty man with electric purple hair, the kind that all hometown girls go crazy for, with soft and almost too symmetrical features. “How many shots did he have?”

“Two… And a pint.” The darker and last one leaned his back against the bar, not tearing his eyes away from his helpless friend. You could also easily figure him out; tall, straight eyes, bewitching cologne, very handsome, probably rich and falsely cocky.

“That’s clearly not enough shots…” The man named Jackson shook his head from side to side, sending his brown locks flying around, he sounded sorry. He looked the kindest of the bunch, he was the one who hyped up his shy friend, reassured him before unfortunately sending him to the slaughterhouse.

“He needs help,” The texting-guy pointed to the scene just as the girl was sitting back, glancing away from their pitiful friend, “Jaebum?”

“Already on it.” The dark blueberry-haired one turned to the bar, waving you to come over. “Can we get four shots of something strong for that table over there?”

“Four Whiskeys incoming…” He nearly dropped his credit card when you blinked his way and it boosted your confidence. There's nothing quite as gratifying as having an obvious effect on a gorgeous man like that. “Should I make it six? From what I gathered, your friend will probably spill at least two.” Jackson chuckled, and you tore your gaze away to grin at him dangerously while the one named Jaebum remained silent, suddenly intimidated. “What’s the sad story?” You poured the shots and pointed your chin to the scene, the poor boy was still trying to make conversation, wiping his probably sweaty palms on his pants repeatedly.

“Youngjae was born like that…” The phone-addicted guy’s tone was gloomy, but you still laughed. “You should see his older brother, it’s even worse.”

“He’s actually very gifted…” You defended their friend and smiled, looking at his circus on the other side of the lounge. He was now talking and moving his hands around like he was chasing a fly or something.

He was handsome, perhaps a bit younger than his friends, but his face was rounder and cuter. His dark brown hair was parted messily on his forehead, but it still looked neat and calculated. His soft features, evident shyness and clumsy actions screamed good guy type. He was an interesting mix of boyish charm and manliness, that’s why you listened when his friends hyped him to start flirting.

Sadly, your years running this place were enough experience to know he had absolutely no chance of getting that girl. She was a regular, Michelle, often looking for hot hook-ups and cute shy boys never won with her kind.

“He should learn how to use that face, it’s a shame.” You sighed, sorry.

“What face?” Jackson tilted his head, instantly captivated and his blue-haired friend shifted on his stool.

“The kind that makes me want to bring him back home and shield him from the world forever… He looks vulnerable and sensitive, so I’d build a fort with my bedsheets to protect and keep him a secret.” You shrugged like it was no big deal, aware that the three men were hanging on your every word. “He has a face that you date, cook for and go back to bed with every weeknight.”

The guys' jaws dropped, and you laughed, throwing your head back. A simple move of your wrist was enough for a waitress to come to take the filled shooters away, she clearly knew who they were meant for.

“It’s definitely not wild hook-up material face, I’m pretty good at figuring these things out by now!”

“And who might you be, dearest physiognomy expert?” Jackson asked, leaning in and clearly trying to flirt. Underneath the bar, Jaebum kicked his tibia without any subtlety, claiming dibs.

“Y/n, you’re standing in my bar.”

“Mmm… I must admit this does bestow you authority somehow…” He nodded, ignoring his friend and you laughed, entertained. This Jackson seemed like a fun character, his eyes studied yours, curious. “So, what’s my face telling you?”

“Your face is trustworthy and warm,” The one-without-a-name cooed at your reply, but your gaze went back to your waitress carrying the shooters, unperturbed, “you look responsible, the type of guy I’d introduced to my parents.”

Jackson smiled widely and turned to Jaebum like he just won the lotto. “JB, my face says all that! I’m that good!”

“Yes and no…” You smiled, bursting his bubble and sliding back the card on the bar to its owner without charging it. The shots were on you this time, that shy boy needed them. “You seem like a perfect guy, but–”

“–But what?” Jackson laughed nervously and Jaebum stayed silent, probably mentally cursing him for not getting his cues to stop flirting. “I’ve never once slept with a guy because I wanted to introduce him to my parents.” Their third friend bursted out laughing at Jackson’s rout, while Jaebum let out an audible breath of relief.

“What about mine?” The purple-haired one had stopped staring at his phone and he asked his question leaning in, holding your gaze for the first time, testing you.

“You have a girlfriend and you're a keeper. Why do you even ask?”

Both other men gasped, impressed by your skills and he simply grinned, sitting back.

“You’re good. What gave it away?”

You narrowed your eyes at the cursed table when their friend’s shooters arrived.

“You’re the only one who hasn’t directly peered at my boobs in the last three minutes.” They seemed to have forgotten all about their cute hopeless friend, but you hadn’t.

“Awesome!” He laughed once more at your reply. “Could you call my girlfriend and repeat those exact words to her, just so she’ll stop freaking out?”

“Mark, focus on Youngjae!” Jackson cut him off, merciless. He was already over your smooth rejection and back to his matchmaking plans.

Their silly friend was currently letting the girl’ entourage take his shooters away, they didn’t even have the decency of letting him offer them first. It would be fine any other night, but you knew they were just using him to freely get drunk, Michelle had no interest in him and you felt kind of involved now.

“I think your friend needs more help.” That Youngjae looked like an easy target to take advantage of and it made you sad.

“Why? The shooters are ice breakers…” Jaebum turned to you again, eyes roaming your features hungrily.

He clearly didn’t have a girlfriend to text, nor a face to introduce to your parents. He had one to lock in your room away, to press between your thighs. He was the type you were used to, the type you’d be in bed with several days, ordering take out and drinking beer while watching dumb movies on Netflix. The type you already knew by heart, and that you would either hurt or get hurt by.

“What’s my face like?” He asked, grinning with all the fake confidence alcohol could allow him to muster. You gulped, seeing clear through his attitude and trying to make a sensible choice.

“I don’t feel like telling you.”

“What?!” His brows shoot up at that and the other two pressed on, begging for more.

You ignored them when Michelle touched their awkward friend’s chest, it made you see red. Talking to the poor boy was one thing but leading him on for fun without even considering his feelings was straight up nasty. You hated women like that.

“Youngjae, that’s his name, right?”

“Yes!” Jackson, the only other one really interested, replied before anyone else could. “WOW! Look at that, she’s all over the lucky bastard!” Jaebum and Mark also turned to see, skeptical.

“She’s building him up, but she’s about to reject him.” All their heads snapped back at you. “I see her often, she’s not even interested. Michelle’s a seducer who loves a challenge and he’s acting way too easy for her right now.”

“Well, he’s already hooked.” Jackson grimaced, unsure if you were being serious.

“She’s toying with him”, you insisted.

“Jeez, he’s gonna be crazy mad you sent him there Jackson…” Mark mumbled but his gaze fell back to his phone and something told you he wasn’t going to be the one minding.

You sighed watching the girl picked up her purse with her left hand while her right still traced invisible patterns on the beaming man’s chest. You always disliked her and for an obscure reason, you wanted to protect him, you weren’t kidding earlier. He had a face that pulled that string in you.

“I’m gonna go save him.”

“What!?” Jaebum frowned, confused.

Before the boys could ask anything, you were gone from behind the counter. You felt the trio’ eyes following as you made your way to their helpless friend at the back of the lounge.

“Woah, what can she do that we haven’t tried already?” Jackson naively chuckled above the music and this time even Mark was observing the scene expectedly. You slowed down when you reached the table, puffing your cheeks to gather a bit of courage.

That Youngjae guy lacked confidence and she needed to believe he was harder to get or at least covetable.

Gently, you tapped his shoulder with your index and middle finger trying to get his attention. The solution was simple, she needed to see you as competition, feel threatened. Unfortunately, his eyes remained glued on the seductive girl and you rolled yours back, she clearly had him in her pocket.

___

“He’s not looking!” At the bar, Jackson squealed, worried.

“Youngjae’s a fool.” Jaebum was grinning awkwardly, wondering what the barmaid's genius plan was.

“Hey, isn’t the barmaid way hotter than that girl? I hadn’t noticed.” Mark winced over his phone when Jaebum elbowed his ribs, he saw her first. “Don’t worry, they’re both out of Youngjae’s league anyway.”

“Hey, a lil’ support would be appreciated.” Jackson glared at his friends. “Once Youngjae gets the hang of this, he’ll be able to get any girl he wants!”

Mark and Jaebum exchanged a heavy look.

“Of course.” The purple-haired man said, sardonic. “He’s the Alpha male.”

“Better”, Jackson nodded, pleased.

___

You loudly cleared your throat and the young man moved his chair a little closer to the girl as if to make space for you between the tables. Youngjae didn’t even peek, just assumed you wanted to walk by. You cleared your throat forcefully once more, hoping the clueless man would look up like most people would, but he didn’t. He kept trying to talk to the indifferent girl, not realizing you were waiting for him to notice you.

Somehow, his accidental unawareness vexed you and that was it. It’s like something clicked in your mind and you decided the gentle way wouldn’t be enough. Clearly, you’d have to do something a little bit more drastic.

It was the first time you were doing something like this, but it was exciting, like you were doing a good deed, for the greater good. That Youngjae guy was a hottie, he just needed to feel like one, needed a confidence boost, since he wasn’t the type to fake it ‘till you make it like his friend Jaebum. You were going to be that boost, give him the self-assurance he missed.

You had tried to catch his attention to play out your schemed, but you could just go for it too. With no hesitation, you reached for his cheek, turning his face upwards.

You didn’t wait for the young man to realise what was happening.

___

“What the actual fu–”

“She’s kissing him!” Jackson yelled excitedly, cutting Mark’s swear off. “I didn’t think she fancied him too!”

“Are we in a parallel universe where Youngjae gets the girls and JB goes home alone?” Mark joked, highly doubtful.

“Shut up.” The one in question warned, hardly remembering to close his mouth, stunned by the show in front of them.

“Why? You can’t handle a little healthy competition for once?”

___

Unaware he was making his friend envious, Youngjae stiffened but didn’t pulled back, probably too shocked. You pressed closer, wrapping your arms around his neck and sat on his knees without removing your mouth from his. Your back hit the table, causing the empty shooter glasses to cling and roll away, but you didn’t mind.

Finally, his lips started to move, and he tilted his head, reacting to your kiss several seconds later. You used the opportunity to push harder, hands ruffling his hair with feigned passion. His cheek smelled like mahogany aftershave and he tasted salty of alcohol; that kiss didn’t feel half bad. You intended to put on a show and it seemed to be working because, behind you, Michelle loudly scoffed insulted by your interruption.

You were about to pull back, satisfied, when one of the boy’s hand found the small of your back and the other cupped your face.

___

“Oh my god,” Jackson loudly screamed, “Youngjae’s kissing her back!”

“Two shots might be enough after all, look at him go!” Mark laughed, abashed.

Meanwhile, Jaebum turned away, ordering another pint and round of shooters to a waitress who was also staring at the scene, completely out of it. He was going to need a lot of booze if Youngjae managed to get the girl he wanted for himself.

What a crazy time to be alive!

___

Just like you would’ve guessed, shy-boy’s kiss was sweet. His lips opened against yours, moist and strong. He didn’t even try to use his tongue, although to be honest, you wouldn’t have complained. He continued to kiss you simply and you pressed your chest against him, forgetting what you were there for, to begin with. His hands encouraged you, like they had a will of their own, caressing your back up and down. Youngjae certainly didn’t feel so timid from this close and if he was a bit slow at first, his newfound audacity was making up for it. He kept kissing you hungrily and you gave back just as much, not having to fake anything in the end; not the wandering hands, pants or back and forth. You had always hated public make out sessions, but you made an exception and you had to admit it was worth it.

Finally done, he pulled away, blinking like dazzled by the lights of the dim-lit lounge. When you met his soft brown eyes, after all that craziness, your mind was blank.

“Hi.” He said, saving the day, and his mouth remained open, the crack hardly noticeable, but you stared at it a second too long.

“Hi.” You breathe out, caught up in your own game.

His hands were still on your body, one on your thigh and the other in your back. It felt highly intimate, natural. You remembered you had no clue who that man under you actually was and that’s what brought you back down on Earth. That, and the girl who cleared her throat aggressively behind you, demanding his immediate attention.

“Who are y–”

He started but you cut him off in a panic, leaning in to whisper only for him; “I’m the intervention.”

Your nose brushed his ear at that and you pulled back, noticing its dark shade of red. The man that just shamelessly made out with a stranger was now blushing like crazy under you. You smiled, he was too precious.

“Excuse you?!” The woman in your back finally lost it and Youngjae stretched his neck, evidently having forgotten all about Michelle. You turned to look at her, innocently fixing your lipstick with your thumb in the process. She was practically scowling, you immediately knew your mission was a success.

She was jealous and suddenly wanted him.

“Hey, Mich.” Her face twitched when her name left your mouth like a cuss word and you turned back to the young man. You were still sitting side saddle on his knees, forearms resting on his shoulders. “Youngjae, you said you came tonight to see me.” You pouted and paused dramatically, glancing over your shoulder, ignoring his confusion. “I got bored waiting for you.”

The poor guy had turned to stone and you wondered how the hell he was able to kiss you back seconds ago. It’s like he was a completely different person, possessed. Right now, back to himself, he was barely able to hold your gaze, frozen still. You rounded your eyes with intent, conscious the girl behind couldn’t see the silent exchange. Youngjae took a short inhale to answer, but you cut him off, knowing he was still clueless and that he’d ruin his chances.

“I’ll be with Jaebum, Mark and Jackson at the bar.” He only seemed more confused when you named all his friends and you got up.

That boy truly was clueless, perhaps you should’ve let him get rejected.

He suddenly grabbed your wrist to keep you from leaving and you looked at his hand like something foreign. Youngjae then peeked at the bar to see your spectators, he released you, mouth opening in awe. You bit your lips to refrain from laughing at his illumination on who you were. It was like a literal lightbulb lit up above his head.

“I’ll let you finish…” You sneaked a last dirty look Michelle’s way, just to tick her off. You wanted to act the part until the end. “... Whatever you were doing here.”

Then you were gone. You didn’t wait to see her reaction, you knew her type well enough to be assured of your success. When you slipped behind your bar, two waitresses and Jackson cheered. You had to actively hush them to keep from blowing the cover.

“Wow y/n!” Chloe, one of your employees, laughed, slapping your ass playfully with a cloth. “That was an unusual sight! The boss sexually harassing a customer!”

“Just a friendly intervention.” You rolled your eyes, hoping your blush wasn’t too noticeable. “Now, could you go take care of your end of the bar?” She obeyed with a knowing smile and you puffed your cheeks before facing the three men again.

“I thought you said you would save him.”

Jaebum took a sip of his beer, avoiding your eyes and you smirked to yourself. Clearly, his ego was bruised. Yeah, he would’ve been fine for a little while, but your little stunt avoided one of you two an inevitable heartbreak.

“I think she did…” Jackson pointed at the table where Michelle was now typing her info on their friend’s phone.

She was laughing and leaning into him, non-verbal entirely different from before. Youngjae didn’t seem half as interested though, and he kept glancing at the bar for you. When he caught your gaze, you turned away, abnormally timid.

“How did that even work?!” Jackson considered you anew, eyes glowing. “Teach me Sensei!”

Mark snorted, “She said the girl needed a challenge, so she made sure to make Youngjae appear desirable.”

“I made him into a player.” You shrugged, acting like this was something you did regularly and like you weren’t even affected by it.

After all, Jackson was right earlier when he said the key to flirting was playing chill.

“That’s some reverse psychology voodoo shit!” The bubbly man tilted his head, pouting. “Admit it… You just couldn’t help throwing yourself at Youngjae because of his animal magnetism.”

Mark choked on his beer, unable to tell if his friend was being serious or not. His phone was now surprisingly gone, abandoned in his back pocket to enjoy the rest of the night.

“Jackson, don’t embarrass y/n.” The blue-haired man finally opened his mouth again, feigning indifference by glancing around the lounge for a woman to talk to. “She just took a bullet for the team.”

“I didn’t though.” You smirked mysteriously, wiping off the hem of a glass and the three friends’ heads turned to you, astounded.

Over their shoulders, Youngjae fumblingly got up, almost knocking another one of your waitresses in the process. He simpered, embarrassed and started to make his way back to the bar, almost trotting. As he got closer, he locked eyes with you and then looked away too intimidated to hold your stare.

You most definitely weren’t chill; your cheeks were flushed, and your heart wanted to jump out of your chest. The men were still waiting for you to elaborate and you obliged, smiling like a dumb smitten teenager as you told the truth.

“That kiss was truly magical.”

|| M.List || GOT7 ||

#TheKpopNetwork #Choi Youngjae GOT7 #GOT7 Fanfiction #Choi Youngjae Fanfic #Choi Youngjae Fluff #Choi Youngjae Imagine #GOT7 Imagine #GOT7 Fluff #CHOI YOUNGJAE CONTENT MOTHERF*CKERS #Just kidding I love yall :)#I hope you like this #The Intervention

172 notes · View notes

thesoftdumbass · 6 years ago

Text

Yallneedtrek’s Writing Anniversary Challenge

Hi you guys! So, I’ve been wanting to host a writing challenge for a while, and now seems like a good time to do so. November 30th marks the 2 year anniversary of when I started posting my fanfiction, starting out with a whopping 649 words on this Charles Xavier fic. Things have changed since then, I’ve written a lot more and joined a few fandoms since then, made some friends, and all in all enjoyed my time here on tumblr.

So if anybody would like to join my writing challenge, here are some things to remember while entering/posting:

~To enter the writing challenge, you must send me an ASK with a character or ship, and AU, AND a prompt from the lists below. (If you send anonymously or have multiple blogs, make sure that I know which blog you will be posting on)

~All entries are due by November 30th, 2018. There is no cut-off date to enter the challenge, as long as you think you can finish, you can enter whenever. (I will post occasional reminders and tag everybody who signed up!)

~Characters/ships can be used multiple times, as can AUs, but prompts can only be used once.

~If there’s a character/ship not on the list but that belongs in my fandoms, you can message me if you’d like to write for them and get my okay!

~You can use any writing genre: fluff, smut, angst, whatever. I would prefer angst-y fics to end happily, though!

~Important! When posting, please include Warnings, Word Count, and a Summary. Also, add a “Read More” if your fic is over 400 words so we don’t clog up everybody’s dash!

~When posting your fic, tag my blog and use the tag #yallneedtrekwritingchallenge, and send the post to me directly to make sure that I’ve seen it. I will reblog all of the fics and add them all to a masterlist to be shared when all entries are posted!

Have fun writing, lovelies!

Characters and Ships - Choose one:

Star Trek-

Jim Kirk

McKirk

Montgomery “Scotty” Scott

Spock

Pavel Chekov

Wonder Woman-

Steve Trevor

WonderTrev

Avengers-

Steve Rogers

Stucky

Bucky Barnes

Sam Wilson

Loki Odinson

Thor Odinson

Urban boys-

Leonard “Bones” McCoy

Gavin Magary

Siberius Vaako

Black Hat

Eomer

John Kennex

Any Karl Urban character, really

Other-

Dean Winchester

Sam Winchester

Lance Tucker

Carter Baizen

Wynonna Earp

Doc Holliday

AU’s - Choose one:

Soulmate

Firefighter

Royal

Fake dating / fake married

Supernatural (any supernatural creature/phenomenon)

Neighbors

University / Fellow Professors

Artist

Flower Shop

Vikings

Called / texted the wrong number

Body Swap

Bartender

Motorcycle Club

Roadtrip

Book Shop / Library

Office

Coffee Shop

Arranged Marriage

Roommate

Writing Prompts - Choose one:

1. “But I’m not wearing pants”

2. “Why were you in a dumpster?”

3. “Just give me the ____ and nobody gets hurt”

4. “Lick me all you want, I’m not moving my hand”

5. “I did not kidnap you! I anything, I adult-snatched you.”

6. “Didn’t you ever stop and think that there’s a reason I’m here?”

7. “Next time you come in my room to scare me, try picking a better hiding spot than behind the curtains.”

8. “What do you suggest we do?”

9. “Are you okay? I’ve never seen you turn down food.”

10. “Are those my underwear?”

11. “Will you just stop talking?” “Make me.”

12. “Did you just make a joke?”

13. “And you say I’m the dramatic one”

14. “Don’t get your hopes up”

15. “Subtlety is not your strong suit”

16. “My mind does not immediately jump to murder. Oh who am I kidding, of course it does!”

17. “Do you smell something burning?”

18. “No you are not Batman, stop saying that!”

19. “If you don’t stop talking in song quotes, I swear I will end you”

20. “Who ever said that I hate you?”

21. “Who thought it was a good idea to give (him/her/them) coffee?”

22. “What is that incessant beeping?”

23. “Here, take my jacket”

24. “Say hello to your cat for me”

25. “Who are you talking to?”

26. “Stay, please”

27. “Are you dead?” “Yes.”

28. “Next time you need help, don’t come to me”

29. “Can anybody tell me why my house is on fire?!”

30. “Are you crying?” “No! Shut up.”

31. “Stop screaming, it’s just me.”

32. “Jealous is not a good look on you”

33. “Is my leg supposed to bend that way?”

34. “I would rather be stuck on a deserted island with literally anybody but you”

35. “If you get ‘Let it Go’ stuck in my head one more time, I will never speak to you again.”

36. “I am too tired to deal with your happy disposition today”

37. “That line was so cheesy, it hurts.”

38. “Can you not be sarcastic just for once?”

39. “I told you this was a bad idea”

40. “Do not throw up on me”

41. “I’m just gonna keep talking until you smile”

42. “If you’re trying to seduce me, I would reconsider.”

43. “Can I kiss you?”

44. “I must be going crazy”

45. “Do I spy a tattoo?”

46. “Am I turning into a vampire?”

47. “No, you cannot borrow my laptop! You remember what happened the last time.”

48. “Just hug me before I put someone’s head through a wall.”

49. “If you can’t tell, I am very angry.”

50. “Are those little unicorns on your boxers?”

51. “You dropped something”

52. “You must be new here”

53. “Can we watch movies and cuddle?”

54. “I love you, I hope you know that.”

55. “I need you to stop laughing and come help me”

56. “Next time, I pick the music.”

57. “Can I kill (them)?”

58. “If you can go one hour without talking, I will kiss you”

59. “Stop saying that”

60. “You’re ridiculous”

61. “I’d hate to ruin such a sweet moment, but we have to go.”

62. “Oh, I almost forgot you were here”

63. “Is it true what they say?”

64. “Is that what I think it is?”

65. “You’ve got no sense of self-preservation”

66. “You’re worrying me”

67. “Get away from me”

68. “Don’t say that”

69. “Sometimes I wish I never met you”

70. “Can you stop poking me?”

71. “Don’t tell me to calm down, you’re covered in blood!”

72. “Will you tell me a story?”

73. “There might be a small…large…dent in your car, but please don’t kill me, I can explain!”

74. “I just want to drink chocolate milk and take a nap.” “You are a grown adult.”

75. “Are you drunk?”

76. “It looks like there was a train wreck in here”

77. “You lost the bet, you know what that means”

78. “I shouldn’t be here.” “Then why are you?”

79. “I’m not going with you dressed like that”

80. “Who else is going to save you from yourself?”

81. “What kind of name is that?”

82. “That is a lot of- what even is that?”

83. “That doesn’t look like fun, it looks like a death trap”

84. “So this is what betrayal looks like”

85. “Who started the food fight?”

86. “What, my poetry isn’t good enough for you?” “You just recited Dr. Seuss.”

87. “I’ve been shot!” “Relax, it’s just a nerf bullet.”

88. “You’re trying too hard, you need to just relax.”

89. “You look like the poster-child for bad decisions”

90. “Could you be any more oblivious?”

91. “Shut your whore mouth”

92. “Say that to my face, you soggy piece of pizza”

93. “You are such a moldy shower curtain”

I really hope you guys have fun writing, and I’m looking forward to reading all of your amazing fics! If you have any questions, feel free to message me or send an ask. Love you all!

I’m adding everyone on my tag list and Urban Shitposting group just in case you want to join or signal boost!

@deanxfuckingadorablexwinchester @mad-girl-without-a-box @cd1242 @space-helen @izzy10718 @feelmyroarrrr @bookcaseninja @musikat18 @kickingitwithkirk @auduna-druitt @garnet-redtailedhero @bubblegum-star-trek @reading-in-moonlight @cuddlememerrick @loststarlight @fireboltrose7559 @lauuerodz @bkwrm523 @fearofdeathkeepsusalive @goingknowherewastaken @annathewitch @outside-the-government @queenmismatched @thefanficfaerie

70 notes · View notes

shadowsof-thenight · 6 years ago

Text

Had a voice: Chapter ten

Story summary: For two years you had let him dictate your every move. Dictate your time, your friends, your work. Everything, literally. And for the life of you, you could not understand why you’d done so.

Now, here you were. In a beautiful but still strange city that had never become your own. And you were all alone. It was time to take back your life.

Ship: BuckyXreader

Words: 1680

Warnings: none for this chapter.

A/N: So,again sorry for the delay. Between the holidays, birthdays and a heavy workload, I find it hard to finish the chapters each weekend. Especially since my meds seemingly don’;t work and I am constantely extremely tired.

Anyway, this chapter is still not how I envinsioned it and I am not sure I am really happy with it. But I didn’t want to make you wait any longer, so i’m posting it anyway. By the time I will post it on Ao3, i will edit it again.

I created a Ao3 account last week. Shadowsof_thenight. not much had been posted yet, but I will work on that. I will, at least for the time being, keep posting here as well.

***

Masterlist Story Masterlist ***

You paused,taking another moment to think of what you were about to do. Not that the task at hand was so enormous, it was just daunting to do. It was something you usually would evade, postpone. You weren't sure how it would be received and for some reason that was incredibly important. Looking at the closed door in front of you, you tried to gather up the courage to open it. The door had no remarkable features to focus on. It was a simple white door with no handles. They would open if you gave them a little push and could swing in either direction. Nothing fancy, just doors.

Beyond those doors was one of the two massive gyms that the tower held and in it would be a few recruits trained by one certain soldier. Upon your request, Natasha had told you just where to find him. She had also tried to tell you that he didn't need you to say the things you wanted to say. She had even warned you that he was never very good at accepting words of this kind. Still, you had told her, it was important for you to say them anyway. You needed him to know how you felt. Even if he could not respond to it properly, or even at all. You just needed him to listen. To know how much his behaviour in the past few weeks had meant to you. And perhaps you needed him not to be grossed out by the gesture.

With a deep sigh you pushed against the door, surprised by how little resistance met your arm. A door this size, should be heavier. The door swung open wide and as you stepped through it, closed behind you just as easily. Swinging ever so slightly, until it was still once more. Slightly apprehensive you straightened your shoulders and walked further into the gym, scanning the room for the man you were looking for.

In front of you the recruits he had been training today were packing their things and you sighed in relief. He would soon be alone. While you needed to say it, you didn't really need, or more accurately want, an audience. In fact, this was nerve-wrecking enough as it was. An audience would probably shut you up entirely. You weren't exactly known for your brave character after all.

The determination you had felt when you spoke to Natasha wavered quickly, when you noticed that he was in fact not alone at all. However, you told yourself, you'd come this far. No turning back now. If you wanted to change your life, you should change your actions, and stop running away from things that scared you. Like saying something nice to a person that was slightly intimidating.

“Hey Y/N” Steve said, once he noticed you walking in their direction, “Wanda isn't here” he said, his face displayed confusion.

You could not blame him for it. You had never been up to the gym. In fact, you once mentioned hating gyms with a fiery passion. This confession had had everyone laughing loudly. It had been true, though. Working out was something you did for your health and as little as possible. There was no fun to be had for you. And with your current funds, it had been running. Which you hated even more and you cancelled at the slightest possibility of bad weather. Really, it was nothing short of a miracle that you moved at all.

“I know, She's in her room,” you began with a smile, before turning your body towards his companion, “ I was actually looking for you”.

Bucky eyebrows shot up as he looked back at you, seemingly a bit surprised by this. Steve however, just nodded, perhaps he had thought you'd seek out Bucky at some point. He returned your smile as he waved in goodbye, leaving you and Bucky alone. Your palms were sweaty already.

“What can I do for you?” Bucky wondered. His tone was a forced jovial and light. He was obviously trying, but his fidgeting hands were betraying his uneasiness. His fingers pulled at the hem of his shirt as his gaze dropped to your feet. You almost chuckled. He had seemed so confident and at ease, when he had helped you out. And now here he was, pushed out of his comfort zone by a simple conversation. Keeping a smile on your face you began speaking, hoping he would relax quickly. You did not want to be the reason of his discomfort.

“I just...wanted to say thank you” your voice a little timid. Thank you didn't seem to be enough. He had been so gentle and comforting as he listened to you talking through your panic attack. And after that, when he took care of you.

He was so kind to you, even though he barely knew you. After the words had left your mouth, you looked down at your hands with a new-found interest, had they always been this pale? When Bucky didn't respond, nor looked up from the ground, you knew you had to be the one to break the silence.

“I'm sorry you had to witness that freak out” you quickly said, risking to glance up from your hands and towards his face. His fidgeting had stopped and he now looked at you with a confused look etched on his features.

“Nothing to apologise for,” he grumbled, offering a small smile.

“I must have looked like an idiot” you chuckled at your own expense, your eyes trained on you hands once again.

“No you didn't” he replied with an intensity you had not heard from him before. He, again, seemed determined to make you feel at ease.

“Seriously!” he added after a few seconds and you looked into his eyes now.

“I just, should've held it together better.” Big displays of emotion had always been something you struggled with. Having someone be witness to a panic attack was therefore horrifying to you. You felt weak, silly.

“Says who?”, he wondered, his voice an octave higher,”We all respond differently to things. And we hardly ever know beforehand. This triggered a past trauma for you. That it nothing to be ashamed off” he stated firmly.

“Trauma, right” again your hands became insanely interesting.

“Don't try to downplay it” Bucky took your hand in his and squeezed it. You smiled at him and again apologized, explaining that it felt stupid to be so easily triggered.

This seemed to anger Bucky as he fervently tried to convince you that it had not been stupid at all. That what you had been through was not easy and in combination with your young age, it wasn't strange at all that it had induced a trauma.

“But compared to what you and the others go through on a weekly basis...” you trailed off.

“There is no comparing those two things. Trauma is trauma and we all can use a little help with that sometimes”

Bucky still held our hand in his as he said those words and you could feel something stir inside of you. Your stomach flipped and you blushed. He was such a good person and you really wondered why so many people seemed to fear him. He was a little gruff at times, but he was caring and kind and understanding. Many people could learn from him.

“Well thank you for helping me and for taking care of me the past few weeks. I don't know...If you hadn't been there.” again you trailed off, unsure of how to explain all the things you felt, “If there is ever anything I could possibly do for you,...I might not understand, but I'm a good listener”.

“Thanks” he chuckled.

Behind you the doors to the gym swung open again and you quickly glanced behind to see the smiling face of Natasha. Bucky dropped your hand and it suddenly felt cold, missing the absence of his warmth.

“Are you guys joining us for dinner?” she called out and you could not help but smile. This group of people had not known you a few weeks ago, and yet they were so accepting of you. You and all your traumas and weirdness.

All throughout dinner you kept glancing at Bucky as he looked relaxed, at ease in this group. He laughed as he mocked Sam. Became boisterous with Sam as they tried to prove something to Steve. Listened intently as Bruce was telling him some story. It was nice to see him like this. And it made your stomach do some flips again, which confused you a little.

As he caught your eye he smiled with a nod, raising his drink. Raising your own in response, you wondered if he too had felt something shift during your talk earlier.

“Perhaps you should try being a little more subtle” Natasha joked as she leaned over. With wide eyes you stared at her, had you been that obvious? She chuckled and shook her head ever so slightly as she saw the horror cross your face.

“Don't worry, men are usually oblivious to these things” She whispered and gave you a side hug, before returning to the food in front of her.

Taking a deep breath you tried to relax your shoulders and turned to focus on your food as well. You wouldn't want to give anyone a reason to tease you. Especially since these sudden feelings confused you. And even more so, because Bucky would probably be mortified if he knew.

Soon you were pulled into conversation with Wanda and Vision, as they spoke of movies she had recently shown him. Wanda explaining certain subtleties which he had missed, asking for your corroboration with that. It wasn't long before you felt an ease come over yourself as well and conversations all around seemed to flow easily. It was nice. A new experience, being amongst friends and not worrying too much.

Chapter 11

Tags: @gracelynn318

#Had a voice #MCUfanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes

12 notes · View notes

potterwhos · 7 years ago

Text

What is Rey’s Failure?

In light of the recent discussions, some of them heated, within the fandom about the proposal scene in The Last Jedi, I wanted to ask this question: What is Rey’s failure?

I think the confusion or uncertainty around this key question is kind of the root of the discussion and why emotions can run high. Contrast with what I see as a widely-held assumption that this type of discussion is a reaction toward anti and general fandom Kylo-bashing. Though there is a bit of that as well, we are all of course human and biased.

I must add that this piece does not apply to those who were character-bashing Rey, such as in the post (probably made by an anti-Rey and/or anti-Reylo, who knows…) that sparked the latest round of this discussion. However, the differing interpretations of this scene, particularly in regards to Rey and/or Ben’s culpability, I kind of always knew would blow up in a way.

Before I answer this key question, I have to go back and ask: Does Rey even fail in The Last Jedi?

The answer many would expect is “Yes” for multiple reasons, two big ones within the film that point to this answer being true are:

1. Because TLJ’s main theme is Failure – “The greatest teacher, failure is” – and all the central heroes, Finn, Poe, and Luke, experience an arc about learning from failure. Of course, Rey must have experienced failure too???

This meta by @starwarsnonsense explains this theme beautifully: The Last Jedi: A Beautiful and Exquisitely Emotional Film About the Lows and Highs of Failure

2. The Skywalker legacy saber, which so easily went to the “worthy” Rey instead of Kylo in The Force Awakens, is broken in two after an intense tug-of-war between these same two characters in an obvious call back to that scene in TFA. Is Rey no longer worthy???

This meta on the Star Wars site explains the Excalibur-like qualities of the legacy saber: STUDYING SKYWALKERS: EXCALIBUR AND THE LIGHTSABER

So, yes, I believe the film leads you to believe that Rey experiences failure. However, this becomes murky during the emotional climax of the movie, the Praetorian fight sequence and particularly the Proposal Scene.

Up until this point, it is clear who the lead central character of the film is – it’s Rey. Her active decisions have driven the narrative and her emotional and inner conflicts as she learns more about the Skywalker tragedy and confronts her own tragic childhood have been the focus. Kylo’s appearances through the Force Bond have served to help Rey on this journey of discovery and self-discovery; he plays his role as her Shadow and Animus to a tee.

However, once Kylo kills Snoke to save Rey, the title for TLJ’s lead central character becomes contested. In the third act of the film, Kylo’s active choices, both heroic and villainous, start to drive the narrative and it is his internal conflict that is brought to the forefront. The second character vying for the title during the third act is not Rey; it is Luke for reasons similar to the ones stated above.

During the third act, after she escapes the Throne Room, Rey practically disappears relative to how central she was during the rest in the movie. With the exception of the Rock Lifting scene, Rey becomes a more reactionary character, similar to how she was in TFA. The abruptness of this character relapse was like whip-lash for many.

@reylo-trash-lives-here wonderfully explains here how this relapse sees Rey reverting back to hiding behind her persona.

I must point out, that I’m not saying this makes Rey’s character or characterization weak. Star Wars is more of an ensemble story than most, and Kylo and Luke kind of overtaking Rey in the third act was bound to happen, since the film leads up to it – something I’ll get back to.

So, the primary focus on Kylo Ren/Ben Solo during the third act means that it is his failure that takes central stage and gets narrative priority. Kylo’s failure being his unwillingness to reject his destructive ways and his failing to see how the preservation/creation that Rey represents is the more morally right way. I won’t say that it is the definitive right way, since as Rian Johnson has hinted at in recent interviews, destruction isn’t always 100% wrong since it can lead to rebirth, though not without creation.

But still, Kylo is only offering destruction via an organization not averse to genocide that seeks galactic domination. Rey’s rejection of his offer is not only morally right it is narratively right.

Once again, the question remerges with more fervor: What exactly does Rey fail at?

And many people’s instinct is to go to the point where it all crumbled, where it all blew up in flames – the Proposal Scene. Since it is obvious what Kylo’s failure was in the scene, many of us, myself included, find ourselves putting a magnifying glass on Rey’s reactions and actions in this scene to try to see the cracks, to see the hints of failure.

We point out her impulsiveness, her inability to bargain with Kylo, how her reaching out for the saber could have potentially triggered Kylo due to the events of Luke’s betrayal, and how her emphasis on saving the Resistance might be perceived by Kylo as her only wanting him for his power akin to Snoke and arguably Luke.

But would Rey changing any of these aspects of herself and her behavior really have resulted in Kylo rejecting his destructiveness and joining Rey in the Light? Similarly, did Kylo’s gentleness, expressed longing, and acknowledgement of Rey’s choice, elements that were absent during his TFA proposal and major reasons why she violently rejected him then, result in Rey embracing his destructive dogma and accepting his offer?

No, I think nothing would have changed because they agree on wanting to be together but fundamentally disagree on what that union will mean. You can still point out the flaws of both Rey and Kylo in this scene since they do both break each other’s hearts. However, getting rid of those flaws, particularly in Rey’s case, would not have resulted in a different outcome.

Still, because Rey is not only morally right, but also narratively right it would have to be on Ben, not Rey, to yield in this instance to be one step closer to galactic peace and balance, but more importantly his own inner peace and balance.

@greyjedireylo concisely explains how Ben hiding behind his shadow is the ultimate flaw he must overcome here.

On the other hand, @reylohasmyheart explains beautifully why Kylo’s rejection of Rey’s offer was needed for both his redemption and romantic relationship with Rey going forward:

We must first ask, why do we think the separation of Rey and Kylo is a failure to begin with? And why do we think Rey is equally to blame for it?

This is where, understandably, there is confusion. Many of us assume this because, visually, the film seems to want to tell us this by having the legacy saber split in two. It seems, the Force has found some fault in Rey, has found her less worthy than she was on Starkiller Base. Kylo now seems to be equally worthy since the saber actually answers his pull unlike in TFA.

However, I would argue that this broken saber symbolizes that the Force’s endgame is for Rey and Kylo to work together, to be together. Not necessarily in that specific moment in Snoke’s throne room, but in general. In TFA, the saber identified Rey as Ben’s equal – “It is you”. In TLJ, the saber symbolizes their broken union (and their broken hearts). I don’t think its main symbolic purpose is to symbolize failure, on either Rey or Kylo’s parts. Rather, it just symbolizes the fact they are separated and something is inherently wrong with this separation.

So there it is again, that pervasive question, then what is Rey’s failure?

Indeed all the other central heroes and villain failed: Finn, Poe, Luke, and Kylo. Some people pointed out, and both celebrated and criticized (fairly and unfairly), that TLJ seems to be about women teaching boys to become men. Does that mean Rey escaped failure because she occupies a female teacher role like Lea, Holdo, and Rose?

No, I believe Rey does fail. Though I would argue compared to Kylo’s hard failure, Rey experiences a soft failure (I’ll explain what I mean below). And this failure does not blatantly happen during one climactic scene, unlike Kylo, it subtlety takes place throughout the film.

Okay, now this is the part where you must try to forgive me. I recently read The Heroine’s Journey by Maureen Murdock and From Girl to Goddess by Valerie Frankel, both delving into the mythic structure of the Heroine’s Journey. However, I don’t have those books in my possession right now and will have to rely on memory while crudely paraphrasing some the concepts they discussed. If anyone reading this has access to these books, correct me if you find any inaccuracies.

So part of the Heroine’s Journey is Animus Development and part of that development involves the heroine identifying with the masculine. I believe this is during the second stage of animus development which is man as a man of action or a romantic man. In TLJ, Rey has two animus figures, Luke (the father figure) and Kylo (the shadow animus/animal husband).

During this stage, the Heroine is confronted by the powerful dogma of her animus. In Rey’s case, both Luke and Kylo are negative animus figures because Luke’s dogma emphasizes self-destruction and inaction, while Kylo’s dogma emphasizes self-destruction and outward destruction. However, despite these constricting dogmas, the heroine finds herself depending on her animus; she identifies too much with the masculine and shuns the feminine.

She believes that her animus knows what’s best, it is her animus that has the power to change things, and that it will be her animus that ultimately saves the day.

The heroine must overcome this over-dependence; she must acknowledge the power and strength of the feminine within her as well. She must recognize that she can be the hero of the story.

In TLJ, Rey first goes to Ach-To to try and convince Luke to once again wear the hero’s mantle. When she fails at this, she instead focuses her efforts on Ben Solo who she has convinced herself will be the Resistance’s only hope due to her failure with Luke as well as her own (as of now unacknowledged) personal desires. After Kylo rejects joining her and the Resistance, Rey finally comes to the realization that she can use her own power to become the hero (and the symbolic mother) of the Resistance which is signified when she lifts the rocks and helps the Resistance escape the caves.

@clairen45 points out the use of symbolism during the Crait battle and it is a fascinating read: Crait and Symbolism: blood, wounds, salt, foxes, the mother and the nest.

This lovely discussion started by @reylohasmyheart talks about how Rey’s unacknowledged desires may have affected the Throne Room scene.

This positive change within the heroine positively affects her animus figures. Luke regains hope and springs back into action by sacrificing himself to save the Resistance. He restores hope in the galaxy and starts the healing process of his nephew. Kylo’s positive change is hinted at in their final force bond scene where he kneels to Rey and must confront the truth that power for the sake of destruction will not bring him peace or happiness. Because of the heroine’s effect on her animus figures, it becomes more understandable that Kylo and Luke, rather than Rey, are thrust into the forefront of the narrative during the third act.

So, this means that one aspect of Rey’s failure in The Last Jedi is that she did not believe herself to be a hero.

However, this brings up more questions.

1. Does this mean Rey seeing the light in Ben and his potential for good was wrong?

2. Does this mean Rey ever believing Ben could be redeemed and turn to the light was wrong?

3. Does this mean Rey ever extending compassion, understanding, and belief to Ben was a weakness that she overcame by the end of The Last Jedi when she shut the door?

4. Does this mean that Rey’s journey in The Last Jedi was about her learning more about Ben in order to, in the end, strictly identify herself as the hero and him as the irredeemable evil villain?

Many people, not us within the Reylo fandom of course, have suggested these as the lessons Rey learns from her failure in TLJ. These conclusions are troublesome because, first, they strongly go against the themes and values presented within the Star Wars franchise.

Second, due to the subtextual journey of sexual awakening/exploration Rey goes on within TLJ, these lessons present pretty problematic conclusions on female sexuality. That it is a weakness that detracts from logical and moral thought, that its desires should not be pursued freely, that in the end, young women should listen to old men like Luke and repress their sexual desires in order to succeed.

@corseque wrote a fun and eye-opening film analysis exploring the sexual imagery utilized within The Last Jedi: a long and specific The Last Jedi meta - (spoilers)

I think being confronted with these incredibly faulty interpretations, has made some of us (it has admittedly made me) look for reasons to explain why the separation was wrong (for the general story direction this is correct, but not within the context of this movie it isn’t) and to look for what Rey did wrong that partially caused this separation.

In the end, I must argue that (even if it pains me to say this because I really enjoy my heroes being wrong in key moments, heroes that make the audience truly question their morality, Rey is not that character, not yet or maybe never…) Rey is never wrong during The Last Jedi. Yes, she is flawed, but she is never wrong. This is why I categorize Rey’s failure as a soft failure.

Her over-dependence on her animus and inability to see herself as a hero are both aspects of her failure, but due to the positive changes her experiencing and overcoming this failure has on herself and her animus figures, there is no better or more right alternative presented by the narrative. Unlike with Kylo, the better alternative presented by the narrative is to go to the Light Side, choose redemption.

So now we can finally answer: What is Rey’s Failure?

Rey’s failure is not that she ever reached out to Ben, is not that she ever believed he could be redeemed, and is not that she ever believed there was still good left in him. Rey’s failure is also not that she didn’t try to see where Ben was coming from when he proposed his fundamentally destructive offer, is not that she lacked empathy for Ben in that one crucial moment in the throne room, and is not that she didn’t try to meet him in the middle during this emotionally volatile moment for the both of them.

Rey’s true failure is believing that she could make anyone other than herself choose to be a hero.

And the lesson she learns is twofold. First, it isn’t that Ben must redeem himself completely on his own. Rey can still offer him the choice of redemption; the very fact that she did not kill him in the throne room leaves her offer open. But it must be Ben who chooses to be the hero. Second, Rey can be her own hero and therefore a hero for others.

#tlj meta #reylo meta #rey #kylo ren #reylo #don't take this as me saying this is the one right interpretation #this is just mine #i enjoy all reylo meta #including the ones i don't 100% agree with #this is my first meta #please be gentle #^_^#technically this is my sisters accounct lol but i'm just going to post my reylo meta here #my sister has already some meta for some anime but this is my first meta

174 notes · View notes

thesweatycollectiontyrant · 6 years ago

Text

Most Demanding Female Roles in Musical Theatre

Hey everyone! I’m gonna be on vacation for the next few days, so I decided to do some shorter posts and queue them once a day while I’m gone! If you have suggestions on some shorter articles I could do on the go, feel free to send topics my way! I’m gonna do a male counterpart to this post, as well as articles for plays.

I’m going to begin that this is in my personal opinion. I’m gonna be just kinda going as I think. I will not be ranking these in any way. ALSO this will not only pertain to lead roles! I’ll be looking at everyone!

Let’s Do This

Rose Hovick in Gypsy

Described as the following: “bossy, demanding, horrific, monster,” this role is kind of a no-brainer when it comes to what is considered demanding. Many amazing women of the theatre have played this role: Ethel Merman, Patti LuPone, Tyne Daly, Angela Lansbury, Imelda Staunton, Bernadette Peters, and just this summer, Carolee Carmello and Beth Leavel. The role is fairly vocally demanding. She sings several of the songs and she has to have a strong belt. She doesn’t dance much, but what really kills the actress is the acting. Tyne Daly described it as “a prize fight”. The role is very demanding. You have to be more or less a ham onstage, age at least ten years over the course of the story, and go through the ache of losing your favorite daughter to seeing the one you settle for become a stripper. All onstage. The character is such a facade. She proclaims that she wants what’s best for her children while she lives vicariously through them. Rose is the prime example of what a stage mother really is. In the final moments of the show, Rose has a mental breakdown in “Rose’s Turn” envisioning herself performing in front of an audience, followed by Louise and her reconciling in the end.

Edith Ewing Bouvier Beale/Edith Bouvier Beale in Grey Gardens

Christine Ebersole originated the mammoth of a role in the screen-to-stage adaptation of the timeless documentary in a dual role, playing “Big Edie” in Act One and “Little Edie” in Act Two. One thing that makes this role demanding is that these people she’s playing were real people who know what these people did, looked like, and sounded like, and if it doesn’t meet expectations, they walk away unsatisfied. The acting in this role is different because of the switch between characters between acts, but the demand for both characters is still there. Big Edie is detrimental in Act One as she tears apart Little Edie’s dreams, then the actress plays Little Edie in Act Two as a woman in her fifties, who reluctantly takes care of her mother despite the hurt she harbors. The actress has to have great comic chops and the ability to impersonate Little Edie in particular. The actress also has to have a very versatile voice to match the elegant Soprano of Big Edie and the squawky timbre (which sweetens quickly) of Little Edie. This is truly a fantastic role.

Margaret Johnson in The Light in the Piazza

This phenomenal woman decided to take her daughter on a trip to Italy, only to discover it wouldn’t be as much of a trip as it was a move. Margaret takes care of her daughter Clara, who is developmentally stalled. In a heartbreaking monologue in Act Two, Margaret explains that at Clara’s birthday party, they ordered a pony for her to play with and show her friends. Margaret went to answer the phone, and the second she wasn’t paying attention, the pony kicked Clara in the head, injuring her brain. Margaret, while in some cases overprotective, wants what’s best for her daughter. She goes through many journeys throughout the story. She watches her daughter grow up before her eyes, realizes the dissolve of her marriage, and ultimately joins a family. There are many asides and monologues that can be dug into and given meaning. This score is notably difficult. It’s filled with many high and low notes; Margaret’s range spans over two octaves (G3-G#5). Victoria Clark immortalized the role for all to see after it was professionally filmed and broadcast on PBS. Seeing a struggling middle-aged woman as the lead of a show isn’t often, and Adam Guettel’s show displays that platform with integrity.

The First Ladies in 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue

I did a post about this masterpiece of a flop last week. The actress who plays The First Ladies play the following roles: Abigail Adams, Eliza Monroe, and Julia Grant and Lucy Hayes (simultaneously). The actress must have strong Soprano chops, but also be a good character singer, especially for the tour de force, “Duet for One”. This is theatrically and vocally demanding. Bernstein gave us that. Praise.

Elle Woods in Legally Blonde

Some might say that this role is all fluff. I don’t agree. Elle is a vivacious human who thinks she knows what she wants, and discovers what she needs along the way. This role has to be a true triple threat, as you have to be able to sustain the demanding score, the constant energy, and multiple ensemble dance numbers. Elle is in almost every single song in the show. She has to dance her butt off. Not to mention that she also has to remain in the bubbly sorority girl archetype, but also becomes a stronger woman who begins to trust herself. It’s a very demanding role, and I don’t need blue hairs coming for me.

Diana Goodman in Next to Normal

Brought to life by one of my favorite actresses, Alice Ripley, Diana provides a story that shows her thoughts under a microscope. She suffers from Bipolar II Disorder that comes along with hallucinations of her deceased son, Gabe. Because of her struggle with mental illness, she pushes her daughter, Natalie, away and affects all those around her. What a woman has to go through as Diana is bare her soul. That role is truly for those who wish to leave it all on the stage. The role has a lot of belting in it, but ultimately is for a Mezzo. The range goes from Gb3-F#5 (yes, they’re enharmonic, but they’re written differently), so just on two octaves. Diana goes through several breakdowns throughout the show and ultimately leaves her family in hope that they will be better without her. This takes both a powerhouse actress and singer.

Cunegonde in Candide

This role has been performed by many actresses and singers, but. Cunegonde is the definition of elegant, but just a bit off her nut. She sings one of the most difficult musical theatre songs ever written, “Glitter and Be Gay” and has several duets with notes almost as high in “We Are Women,” “Oh, Happy We,” and “Make Our Garden Grow”. The score is incredibly difficult, so I would definitely say that this role is very demanding.

Margaret White in Carrie

Yes, I know this show was infamous for being kind of awful, but the place someone has to go to play this part is so dark that it’s scary. A woman like Margaret has clearly been abused of some sort. In fact, the book (I believe, it’s been a while since I’ve read it) reveals that Carrie was conceived by rape. It’s truly heartbreaking. This woman wants what is best for her daughter, even if she goes through some interesting ways to giver her that. The subtlety an actress has to have to not cross the line of making Margaret’s religion and motives borderline comical is great. The role seems very easy to make a caricature of Christian women over the area. The score in the revised version is quite difficult, calling for Margaret to be a Soprano who also has lower notes and some belting, although there’s plenty of room for stylistic choice! I’m just going off of the brilliance of Marin Mazzie. The role is quite demanding for anyone to step into.

Eva Peron in Evita

To play Eva Peron, a woman has to screlt her face off and sustain that for the entire night. The different places her voice would need to go is so vastly different. The range extends from E3-G5 without much of a break. The vocals are very demanding. Since I haven’t seen the show live and it’s *mostly* (?) thrusung, I’m not sure what all vigorous acting has to be done. But oh my Lord, the score is tough.

Trina in Falsettos

I don’t even know where to begin about this character. There’s very little dancing for the part, but there is just about everything you could think of in the other two departments. Her range spans two octaves, and she has to belt at the top of her range, but also have a nice an strong head voice throughout the show. The acting is very vulnerable. Trina is a person who has been exposed to a lot of hurt throughout her life. She goes through just about everything, and still comes out of it. This is a beautiful and heartbreaking role.

Veronica Sawyer in Heathers

The score in Heathers is pulsing with punk rock and 80s influences. Veronica is a very demanding part because of the plot points that happen to her. It’s a very interesting and complicated story that I don’t want to get into, but just know that this role is a whole step away from having the highest belted note in Musical Theatre history (A5), losing only to Jennifer Simard as Sister Mary Downy in Disaster!, who belts a B5. Veronica goes through a lot in this story, and is in most of the scenes in the show, and is also constantly singing and belting VERY high.

Dolly Gallagher Levi in Hello, Dolly!

I want to preface this with the fact that typically, this role is done by an older woman, so take that into circumstances. This role is loaded with stage time, comic timing, and singing. You have to have great comic chops, and depending on how you do it, one of three things with your singing voice: you can sing it in the original keys down the octave (which is the way it was originally done) which puts you as a super low Alto/Female Tenor, you can do it similar keys that Barbra Streisand did from the movie, taking the range to a Mezzo, or you can be a brave Soprano and sing it in the original Carol Channing keys, but sing everything up the octave. Any of the three are delightful. This is one of my favorite roles, and is TRULY demanding. The emotional journey (while not trolling Mr. Vandergelder) is beautiful for Dolly. She discovers so much about herself and what she becomes after she accepts Ephraim’s death and decides to move on with her life. It’s just sublime.

Effie Melody White in Dreamgirls

This is another role that would be very easy to make a caricature of. Effie is a troubled and talented woman. The role is very taxing vocally, and also the acting is very intense, especially in Act One. Effie truly has an amazing transformation from a misunderstood starlet to a confident woman. She doesn’t have a lot of time offstage until Act Two, and even then, she has an amazing solo.

Bess in Porgy and Bess

I don’t want to get into describing the heartbreak that this character goes through. Just know that there are a lot of traumatic events that happen to her and she still finds love (even though it ends different then you want). The score is incredibly demanding, even causing Broadway superstar Audra McDonald vocal problems. This is a fantastic role for an African-American Soprano who has great acting chops.

Dot/Marie in Sunday in the Park with George

Bernadette Peters did this brilliant role on Broadway and it was broadcast to the world on PBS. The dual role that actually switches and then switches back once again is very theatrically and vocally demanding. The role is onstage most of the show and is just very alive and energetic throughout the show, even when she plays an old woman. The beautiful and poetic words that just flow everywhere have so much meaning. There’s quite a bit of range that spans through the show as well.

Celie Harris Johnson in The Color Purple

There is such a delicate presence for this role. Celie is like a cat. She starts out like a kitten that is hushed and silenced, but by the end she is a roaring lion that will speak for everyone to hear. I adore the resilience this character has. LaChanze possibly had a lot of pressure to be like the movie. Cynthia Erivo definitely made the role personal to her, and it showed. Celie is a demanding role because of her constant stage time and the relentless score. The character literally spans from an E3 to a G5 in ONE song. Oh my Lord. But what a role. It really is amazing. And demanding.

I’m sure there are some that people feel I left out, but be sure to message or let me know your thoughts on this!

2 notes · View notes

searchingforaplacetocallhome · 7 years ago

Text

Everything About You (Kandomere x OFC Pt 5)

Setting: Bright movie-verse

Characters: Kandomere & Topaz Bennett (OFC)

Warnings: strong language possibly

Background: Topaz Bennett was the brightest student of her class, always the hardest worker in the room and it finally landed her a much coveted spot on Homeland Security’s Magic Task Force. By a cruel twist of fate, her new ‘partner’ turns out to be an elf named Kandomere, who seems to think it is his task not only to train her as the new agent on the task force, but educate her on pretty much anything else as well.

“Now this is a story all about how My life got flipped-turned upside down And I’d like to take a minute Just sit right there I’ll tell you how I became the servant of an Elf called Kandomere”

Word count: 2239

tag list: @echoesandwhispersanddarkthoughts @xtequilaxmockingbirdx @kandomerx

If you wish to be added to the taglist, just leave a message in the comments, and I will add you from now on.

Pt 1 | Pt 2 | Pt 3 | Pt 4

Part 5 - Lady In Red

“Well that was a colossal waste of time...”

Pulling her boots off, Topaz dropped them and groaned as her feet flattened against the plush carpet. They had spent all night in interrogation and they still weren’t even a sliver closer to finding out where the wand was and who, besides them, was all after it. If she had to take a guess Inferni were involved, but it really could be any coven, as several were represented in the Elven district here. Whatever the case, the Shield of Light didn’t seem to be involved. At least the two in custody didn’t brandish the tattoo.

“Not entirely,” Kandomere spoke as he closed the door behind them.

“We just spent like 7 hours in that shit hole trying to get those schmucks to talk, and they didn’t flinch.”

“Exactly,” he said, and smirked in that creepy way that told her he knew something she didn’t. “They didn’t flinch.”

This caused Topaz to pause, the socks she had just pulled off her feet still in hand and her toes spreading a little as they sank into the carpet. It almost derailed her train of thought. Shifting on her feet a little, she gave a curious head tilt. “They didn’t flinch,” she repeated his words, trying to catch his train of thought, and closed her eyes a moment when she realized the connection she hadn’t made before. “No flinching, because someone trained them, and I know that look. You just had an idea.”

“I do have a few ideas, but they require some preparation.”

Pursing her lips, Topaz debated whether or not she wanted to ask him what those ideas were and what kind of preparation it required, but from past experiences she had learned that Kandomere always gave her just the information he was willing to share, and asking for more only got her frustrated. “Okay. Will this preparation take long?”

“Long enough for you to rest, yes.”

Topaz let out a little sound of excitement, turning to head to her bedroom.

“Topaz...”

Pressing her lips together, she resisted the urge to give him a smart retort and turned around with an annoyed ‘what?’ look.

He had taken off his jacket and draped it over the back of a chair. His gaze went from her down to the discarded boots on the ground and back.

For real?

Balling her hands into fists, she wanted to tell him very much that if the boots bothered him, he could move them, but this was just the first day, and she had a feeling she would have to share a living space with him for the majority of the week. It was probably best not to get into a fight over something as stupid as her boots right off the bat. Swallowing her pride, she snatched up the boots and made sure he saw her flinging them into her room.

Her butt bumped the door closed, her eyes on her phone to look through her messages. Her finger hovered over Genny’s number when her phone started buzzing and her name appeared on the screen. Swiping her finger over the screen she answered the call. “You must have some crazy ESP, girl. I was literally just about to call you.”

“Oh really? I just wanted to check up on you.”

“Uh huh, sure. You want to know things, elfie things.” Topaz chuckled when Genny tried her best to deny it. She knew better though. For some reason, the more Kandomere ignored her, the bigger her crush became on the elf. “Before you hit me with the twenty questions though, I need a favor.”

“Anything, chica. Whatcha need?”

“If I wire you some money, would you mind going by my landlord later and pay my rent? She’s getting antsy and I don’t wanna come home to all my stuff out in the street.”

“Yeah, of course. Just text me when you’ve wired the money.”

“Thank you, you’re a lifesaver.” Cradling the phone between her ear and her shoulder, she wiggled her pants down her hips, Using one of her feet, she threw the garment up in the air so she could catch it without bending over. “I really need to find something cheaper, so if you hear anything, let me know, please.”

“You know, if you’re having trouble making rent, I have an extra bedroom. Splitting rent would make it easier on both of us.”

It was a tempting offer, one she was seriously considering, but she didn’t want to jump right in. She had bad experiences with roommates in the past. “Not sure you’d be able to put up with my messy ass.”

“You don’t have to say yes right away. Just think about it, come by when you get back, get a feel of the place and we’ll talk about it.”

It was a reasonable offer. “Alright. Hang on.” Shrugging her blouse off, she put the phone down long enough to toss her blouse on the chair in the corner and slip on the t-shirt she had brought to sleep in, not wanting to risk Kandomere walking in on her naked again. “Back. Okay, ask away. Just know I am silently judging you.”

“FYI, it’s not very silent when you tell me about it. So what’s it like?”

“It’s Vegas. Loud, in your face, and very superficial.”

“I don’t mean the city, I figured that much.”

“Lush carpet, too much white, amazing bed...” Topaz moaned, sinking back into the pillows and pulling the sheets up to her waist. “The view is pretty decent too. The only downside is I have to share it with Captain Grumpypants.”

“Ugh. You are so lucky. I am so jealous right now.”

“Genny, I love you, but you’re hopeless. Need I remind you he’s my boss?”

“That just makes it hotter. He’s your boss, you’re the subordinate...”

“Okay, I am gonna hang up on you. I need sleep, not nightmares. I’ll text you.” Ending the call, she tossed her phone on the bed beside her. Sinking down further into the pillows, she let out a content sigh. She could definitely get used to these assignments if she got so sleep in beds like these.

Kandomere proved once more that subtlety and tact were not his strong points, when he all but barged into her room and stated it was time to get up. It felt like she had passed out minutes before, but the clock disputed that feeling. Rubbing the sleep from her face, she dragged her unwilling body out of bed, and with toiletries under her arm, she all but sprinted across the living area to the bathroom for a quick shower.

She heard a knock on the door while she was drying off, followed by Kandomere speaking to someone. Slipping on the impossibly soft bathrobe, she tied it up and peeked out of the bathroom before she emerged. Kandomere was carrying a black clothing bag on a hanger, disappearing into his bedroom with it. What on earth was he up to?

Looking in on him, she watched him unzip the bag and reveal an expensive looking suit. Didn’t he bring enough of his own? Things just kept getting more and more curious.

“You should get dressed.”

His voice cut through her thoughts and her gaze shot up to meet his. “For what? Where are we going?”

“Elven district. Those tattoos those guys were sporting weren’t random, or some gang affiliation. There is a club where Elves go to meet humans.”

“I thought humans were servants?”

Kandomere laughed.

It clicked. She had heard about Elves keeping humans as pets before. It was some sort of fetish she didn’t understand, but to each their own. “Oh. I see.”

“We leave in thirty minutes.”

The tone of his voice urging her into action. “Right. Wait, I didn’t bring anything other than work clothes.”

Her comment got a smirk from him. “Check your room.”

Now she was convinced he was up to something. Curiosity got the better of her, so instead of asking him, she went into her bedroom to find a similar bag hanging from her closet door. Unzipping it she revealed a sea of red, her fingertips gliding over the fabric told her it was silk, not satin. This was an expensive dress.

Slipping her robe off, she struggled with the slippery fabric, getting her head through the opening only to realize she had the dress twisted. Muttering some curses under her breath, she finally got her arms through the straps correctly, smoothing out the top which fit eerily perfect over her curves. Having the dress somewhat figured out, she stepped in front of the mirror to look at her reflection.

“This can’t be right...”

The red strappy dress had a plunging neckline, the bodice form hugging, but what didn’t make it look right to her was the full length flowing skirt, with a split running way up the front on either side, so that when she stood there, not only her legs, but her panties peeked out as well. This definitely couldn’t be right.

“Are you sure this is the right dress?” she called out.

Kandomere appeared behind her, wearing black pressed pants, and a white button up shirt, which still had the top few buttons undone, a silk tie hanging loose around his neck. He wasn’t wearing shoes either, which took her a little aback. For a moment she just stared at him in the reflection of the mirror, committing the view to memory because she wouldn’t likely see him like this again.

Looking her up and down, he looked dead serious when he nodded. “Yes.”

Topaz snorted, looking over her reflection, tugging on the dress here or there. “This thing makes me look like you bought me for the night.” The gears in her mind started to work overtime, making the connections she really didn’t want to make, and her eyes went wide. “You want me to play a hooker?!”

“Escort,” he answered as casually as possible, buttoning the cuffs on his shirt like what he was telling her was the most normal thing. His eyes and the little smirk betrayed his amusement.

Her eyes were shooting daggers when she snapped her head to look at him directly, clenched fists ready to wipe the look off his face. He disappeared from view before she could act on the impulse. Growling in frustration, she snatched up one of her boots and threw it at the empty doorway.

How was this happening? Her first assignment, and she was going to be playing the working girl. This was beyond humiliating. She could barge into the other room and demand that they used some other strategy, but she knew he had a point. Her usual attire screamed law enforcement, and Elves in their own district weren’t going to even acknowledge her existence, let alone answer her questions.

So what’s bigger, Taz, your sense of duty or your pride?

Closing her eyes, she counted to ten until the urge to punch Kandomere in the face subsided. “Swallow your pride and do your job. You’ve gone undercover before. It’s just acting.” Talking to her reflection helped, and nodding, she finished up getting ready. She was almost finished when she spotted the one glaring flaw to her look. She definitely needed to wear something else.

Hoping against hope, she dug through her suitcase to find anything besides her regulars, but she found nothing. There wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hell she was going out there without underwear, undercover or not. Something told her to look behind the zipper that was lining the inside of her suitcase, and what she found made her both sigh in relief and want to strangle Genny at the same time.

When they had packed up her go bag together, Genny found a way to sneak some of her lingerie in as well. Picking up the black lacy thong, she quickly switched her panties for it, checking her reflection to make sure they didn’t peek out. Satisfied, she flipped the suitcase closed, and pushed it back in the closet.

“Ready?”

Kandomere was leaning in the doorway, now fully dressed, including a black vest and jacket, but one thing was missing. His gorget. It made sense though, it was a very recognizable item, and his reputation might precede him if he wore it. Like her work clothes, it would make the Elves suspicious and defensive.

A pair of strappy heels were dangling from two fingers and he held them out after taking in the view and nodding approvingly. She snatched them from his hand and sat down on the foot of the bed to put them on. Kandomere disappeared from sight once again. “Lord, give me the strength not to kill him.”

Put your game face on.

Standing up straight, she took a moment to get used to the heels, which were surprisingly comfortable despite being inches higher than her usual footwear. The heels did something to her, making her sashay a little, which was one of the reasons she didn’t normally wear them, but it helped put her in character now.

Her eyes narrowed, glaring at him when he offered his arm. Slipping her hand under to curl her fingers around, she let him lead them to the elevator. She could feel his gaze on her as she stared ahead at the elevator doors when they closed.

“I hate you.”

#bright fanfiction #kandomere #oh god help me #sorry in advance

34 notes · View notes

seenashwrite · 7 years ago

Text

Nash Recaps The Back Half Of Season 12 - Part One.

Pt. 1 / Pt. 2 / Pt. 3 / Pt. 4

[Note: these are lengthy & have lotsa images, just an FYI before you start]

Good news: soooo many CASPN notes for the S12 Side Deck, and I have re-named each episode with some of these brain droppings. Not-so-good news: my capitalization and punctuation were tossed aside for the following as I was droppin' said brainage in the moment. Rapidly. With much gusto.

And I'm kinda blunt. No, I'm way blunt. I'm cranky. I didn't care for this season. Too many irons in the fire and the writing wasn't robust enough or tight enough to pull it off. But the best episode of the season is in this bunch, and I wax near damn poetic. I read back through it, and overall it’s entertaining terlit readin’. Hope you enjoy.

Oh, and blame @ilsawasanacrobat for this, there was mild encouragement on her part and that, as y'all know, is all that's needed to egg me on.

12.15 - "A Pregnant Bitch Named Ramsay"

jesus wept, this dragged, that there was maybe a 20 minute story, edits should've started with that painfully long intro; glasses always a plus; good dean/sam banter; handful of good crowley lines; Rando Chick + Rando Doggie Chow = Dean + Sam obvious comparison is obvious #anvil drop #treat your viewers like they're smart #they'll rise to the occasion

soooo done with sam being a lying liar, why they fall back on this shtick I'll never know - wait yeah I do: lazy #waves at writer's room

we'll give this one The *Look* Of The Episode.....

so.... largely 'meh', HOWEVER!!!!

Dearest writer who ended this round of said shtick/the episode with shot of Dean's resigned facial expression, to the answering phone with "This is Sam", and hard cut to black?

[chef's kiss] perfection, this is gooooooood shit, that's what I'm lookin' for #not an anvil in sight #subtlety reigns supreme #believe people the first time #when they tell you #who they are

~ Skip this next one if you like the claire character/find the portrayal anything beyond mediocre, because I don't pull punches ~

12.16 - "The Voting On Claire's Life"

I prepped dinner through the whole "this shit happened" montage and the two throwaway characters, I was glad they got attacked, heard them from the kitchen, despite having no idea what was said, still know they were very attackable

Oh dean, saying mick's repressing things, that's adorable you lil' kettle, make sure to hit the pot up with more advice later

dear set designer: stop using those bright yellow-railed utility stairs in locations so much, or else paint 'em, I only watch these episodes once but I still notice because they're Bright. Farging. Yellow #that's the goddamn garage set #and we all know it

magda = one of those missed opportunities, re: too many irons; madga shoulda been off to jody's and donna's posthaste

yes, werewolf on loose, and 'tis true you and your brother were raised to be a team and avoid going off alone when possible but I know better having accumulated about 5 minutes of experience in the field, do stop treating me like a kid, oh very large experienced manly hunter who cares about me, I shall in my 12 year old wisdom take off down yonder path with ridiculous-looking headphones blasting shite music, whatever would be the problem with this decision

holy fuck, empathy and inner reflection, I mean, sort-of, because she's still making everything about her. how the situation she got herself into with magnificent stupidity and the repercussions it therefore spawned impacts her feels, though she's trying to sell it as consideration for jody but her million other actions are better representations of how much she considers jody, and as jody was prepared to love her zombie son and loved her adopted freshly un-vampired daughter without knowing what ripple effects that could have on alex, she would likely welcome a wolfed-claire in with open arms, were claire willing to fight but, ya see, she's not, not really, and does she honestly think being dead will be okey-dokey with jody, and blah blah blah, and were claire and I married in a past life, because she's got the whole obtuse husband routine down cold

can we just let it marinate for a second that this actress/character continues on while shoshannah stern/eileen - and the exceptional actress/magda character - did not? and I KNOW she costs more, her agent must be phenomenal, see below, RE: cast in golden-globe-winning and multi-oscar-nominated tv miniseries and movie, respectively

I loathe the claire character, and >50% of it comes via lazy development on the writers' parts, but if you want to bask in more of that dead-eyed-dolly delivery, this chick plays Everything. Exactly. The. Same. Way. in "Big Little Lies" and "Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, MO", and I'm not being snarky or hyperbolic - I'd reserved judgment throughout her tenure on the show, but at this point I'm less on the fence, she's gotten better material and been surrounded by pretty fucking high-caliber actors in those other 2 than spn writers/casting have provided, so.... yeah.... and in real life, she's got a great personality, I've seen it in clips that go around of interviews or whatever, not a clue what happens when they call "action" it's like she immediately deflates - it was hooooorribly evident in the pilot for wayward, all those other gals - patience/kaia/alex - showed range and had light in their eyes and felt natural in their characters, then there was ol' faithful flat face over yonder.... the lil' kid actors, particularly the one playing her younger sister, in BLL run rings around her.... and sweet lord, she had to share screentime with frances mcdormand in 3BB, can you imagine? I'd be wearing Depends, and the kid playing her brother held his own pretty well [he is *palpably* nervous in his scenes w/FMcD] but I tell ya, with her, it goes from painful [spn] to cringy [BLL] to second-hand embarassment in 3BB, and real fast

but speaking of SPN/WS writers, I am hoping for some maturity in wayward, like we've seen in alex, and patience is clearly already mature, just new to the game, and kaia I have a feeling is gonna rock our heads off... occasional ptsd ripples are fine/justified, so are handfuls of learning-curve mistakes, but if I wanted to watch a show about whiny teens fucking up over and over again, then, um, I would #waves at showrunner(s) #teens aren't one-trick-ponies #go, like, talk to one #and if you're basing her off #your own kids' behavior? #bless your hearts #legit #what PITAs

what is UP with the the flashbacks and flashsideways at the end?! ugh. were not needed

y'know, Tiff @butiaintgonnaloveem told me, she TOLD ME not to bother watching this episode, and I did it anyway, and I keep having to get up and walk away and come back, it is taking me like three hours to get through this ass disaster OKAY okay I'm done you're all better than me, it's why I'm a pseudo-fan because.... because..... grrrr..... never mind, I'll channel it elsewhere.....

the awesomesauce was of course the plethora of quality "looks" between the guys and what is, dare I say, not only The *Look* Of The Episode, but possibly The *Look* Of The Season:

Bottom line - they could've accomplished the "hey there's mick get to like him better 'cause we're gonna kill him dead here in a bit" without the claire element; have I mentioned I loathe claire, I *loathe* claire, they have boned that character and didn't even take it out to dinner first, I mean, daughter of an angel, essentially? cool-ass chick hunter? I'm in, but this is what we got, and.... I'm stopping, I swear....

#pleasepickupwaywardsothatactresswillnotbeonthisshowagainatleastnotasoftenokthxbye

12.17 - "Ketch's Fierce Manspread on the Bedspread"

lady, shut uuuuuuuup, why is her blah-blah so looooooong

oh... oh, my.... well, golly.... to snitch a line from back when the scripts were tight and trippy: sweet Peter on a popsicle stick

but... but why? I don't get the need for this, it's.... [heaving sigh] damn this is stupid, and that's an objective not a subjective, and here's why: math, specifically the math on their acceptance numbers - and not counting legacies, they couldn't put legacies in this, I don't care what they say because the powers that be aren't gonna pony up their grandbabies, it's why rich elites' kids magically don't get drafted into military service - so just the plain ol' recruiting AND retention rates would have to be of such a high margin to balance out this "to the death" bullshit that there's no way it would be sustainable, the math doesn't follow; The Kingsmen* did this better; also, I appreciate giving the BMoLs a touch of "umph" because their primary shtick is almost fucking to the letter a re-hash of Buffy's arc with the British Watcher's Council, complete with speeches on how not everything out in monster hunting land is black and white, the pointing out of buffy's willingness to work with vampires and witches, plus poor man's Wesley, a.k.a. Mick [sorry dude - perhaps more time and you'd have risen to that level but them's big shoes to fill], so yeah, I'm glad for the punch of something insidious or creepy, but this was just eye-roll-worthy

* no, Nash - The Kingsmen did "Louie Louie"; you mean to say "Kingsman".... and what say you, Colin Firth?

Opening scene in impala w/the 3 of them flows smoothly, feels natural, is delicious #good shit

dear dabb: is there a reason how everybody, and their mother, and their dogs, their minister, their bikini waxer, their accountant, and their under-the-table weed dealer knows that the winchesters are, um, unbeatable and unkillable to boot, except for the stuffily stereotypically-stereotypical british broad who's supposedly in-the-know about all things monster? does she even apocalypse? so, SO stupid. dabb, you & the S12 writers couldn't plot your way out of a graveyard even if death was co-piloting the backhoe

oh blah blah dickensian street orphan blah - stop fisting my face with useless backstory on mick. staaaaaaahhhhp. we get it. he's a soft-hearted sweetie, they thought they'd be gathering up a litter of wayward psychopaths, lucked out with a Ketch (probs more than one, tbh) and amongst them was cockney potter poor man's wesley wyndham pryce. WE GOT IT HE'S ADORABLE HE'S DEAD MEAT

ah, so early we find you, The *Look* Of The Episode....

....which, that watermark reminds me, a hearty #fuckoffriverdale Pictured below: dean channeling me, when I'm thinking about how someone actually paid someone else for the oh-so-original idea of taking something cheeky-campy-fun and going all broody-angsty-dark with it like, say, Archie Comics.....

this chick playing dagon is tops, which is how I knew early on she'd be dead meat. hey, look! it's cousin oliver!

if they snuck something eerie into the sonogram then I missed it - and I checked - so if there was, it wasn't obvious enough. they ain't got a pair over in ye olde graphics hub, because if animators have no chill with sticking dicks into rando scenes in cartoons so that bible belt mommies get the vapors, the least they coulda done is given us a preview of the forthcoming creepy ass smile. devil parasite teeth coulda been some stephen king shit right there

historically/more-often-than-not, the show make-ups and/or over-barrel-curls and/or lights [indoors] most of the women in such a way that they perpetually look 10-to-15 years older than their actual age, but my good gravy did they do right by shoshannah in the beer clink scene, hair and makeup and lighting on damn point, so refreshing to see, because our #deadmeat loaf needed a third yummy ingredient, I suppose ::sigh::

hey thanks for making crowley out to be a fucking idiot in that unneeded, added nothing, “why was it even in there?”, “I guess there were contract minimums to meet, so here we are” scene

that orderly, mannered, turn-by-turn, ever-so-slowly-rolled, dagon fling-away processional made me burst out laughing so hard that I woke up the dogs hahahahahahaahaha [wheeze] HAAAAAAAAhahahahaha #when the nash nieces and nephews choreograph fight scenes in the living room

real talk? the mary and ketch dynamic has my support 1000%, that scene made me like them - together and separately - quite a bit. I had actually caught this scene in the midst of whatever I was doing the night it originally aired, and it was enough to distract me into paying attention, and also because I couldn't figure what was with the one-leg-out-up-and-bent post-coital lounging thing happening

well-executed execution, knew it was coming [both because t-bag giffage, and, um, hello see above, re: dabb & co ain't never met an anvil they didn't wanna drop], but even so - the timing was good, they didn't let his speech drag out too long, even though ol' girl's THE COOOOOODE speech was too long. still. they got-in/got-out fairly well

holy shitsnacks. THE CODE. THE LORE. #mindblowers #CASPN Crew feels me on this

12.18 - "A Goat Dude With A Name Like A Pirate's"

oh poor man's Jay Baruchel's about to eat it, ain't he? we were actually getting a cheeky lil' cold open here for once :::sigh:::

GOAAAAAAT HEAD HAMMER STRIIIIIIIKE JERKY ZOOM IN YAAAAAASSSSS this is the show I signed up for. This. This right here.

give the very magnetic guest sheriff all the gold stars, he is phenomenal, every line delivery, the pacing, the proud-papa eyeballing of the taxidermy, ALL OF IT

it is exactly seven minutes and forty-eight seconds in, and I am actually adoring this episode STOP EVERYTHING IT'S HAPPENING I MIGHT BE TIP-TOEING NEAR THE FAN LINE

rando urban legend [nods], good.... diner banter, very good.... dean sizing up the utterly basic average waitress, annoyed sam tries to press on, good good.... [nods again, reaches for snack, settling in] ah-HA! it's the first THE LORE of the episode, hey, should I be documenting those, too? no. no, I don't have that kind of time

sorry, my dude

lookit the soft, pretty snow.... [sniffs]

his mjolnir is like a lil' repurposed beer stein.....

I just looked up who wrote this - he has written a grand total of 2 eps, this one, and the other he had to (I've no doubt) carry Dabb on: the wrestling one, which was littered with great moments, places for the guys to stretch their acting legs as it were, nice nostalgia/insight about their childhood that was just kinda floated out there vs. laxative-like exposition, had some fantastic crowley/cas dialogue to boot, and..... and......

WHY IS HE NOT ALLOWED TO WRITE MORE THINGS, HE GETS THIS SHOW

Sam bringin' it home - I know we're not done yet, but I'm placing my bets now that this is, to be sure, The *Look* Of The Episode:

oh it's this dude. he's the goat. placing my bets there, too. I find his eyebrows off-putting. goat head = smart move. if he ain't the goat, then he's playing this way too weird. actually if he *is* the goat, he's playing this way too weird #that's a director anvil #I don't blame the writers

Ketch brand sneery snark is so marvelous..... goooooood tension with the flashlight slow walk peek in grate...... the sound/music is on point...... this is the best episode of the season, easily. like, it'll have to whiff it hard from here on out for me to hate it.... YES KETCH YAAAASSSSSS that fucking telescope in a basement..... music here is nailing it, too, it's very jessica jones-ish..... and THANK YOU for just showing them bugging the place, no stupid exposition on here is where we're putting them, here's how we're gonna monitor the frequency bleh bleh bleeecccchhh

THANK YOU WRITER, YOU ARE GOOD AT THIS, SO GOOOOOOD WHEN WILL THEY LET YOU WRITE MORE OF THE THINGS

that family business line coulda gone hella cheesy anvil drop [whispers --- like the on-a-hunt one in wayward pilot sorry-not-sorry] but here it worked, great delivery, great ackles face pull, they hit the moment and it was gone as soon as it came, nicely done

god bless, even the *lighting* is great, the aforementioned grating basement thing, this red in the freezer, dry ice is a touch much but HOOVES ARE THOSE HOOVES OR JUST REALLY CLUNKY BOOTS

the continued hammer-and-sam interactions are not passing me by, I don't know why this is a thing, but I'm not fighting it

that fizzle crackle colt through-and-through tho.... LOOOOVE

did he just dissolve-fart into some paint that I swear to god I'd used for a bathroom I was being wishy-washy on regarding color so I went with this flat pewter neutral garbage? DID I PAINT THE BATHROOM THE COLOR OF MELTED GOD

and what exactly did the monster look like, hmm? WE DON'T KNOW IT DOESN'T MATTER THAT'S WHY IT'S BETTER #it’s the Jaws under the water thing #the trick to making situations unsettling is #not showing all your cards

then..... and..... and.... and then.......

THAT IS HOW YOU DO A FLASHBACK SEQUENCE

let us not forget that this episode also spawned the greatest outtake that ever outtaked #chupacabra

okay, so, to sum up...... I've seen the finale, so since I'm done here, this means 4 more to go, but lemme say now......

Best. Episode. Of. The. Season.

plot to dialogue to casting to execution to set design to sound to costuming to lighting - granted, minor quibble in that the villain played it a squinch too obvious - but this was as close to flawless as I've seen since earlier seasons, the most recent being.... my mind drifts to something in the 9/10 ballpark but I couldn't say what just now.... beyond this nightmare of a season and the molasses drag that was the darkness arc, for sure. anyway. yeah. #good shit

Part two whenever I get around to binge-a-palooza again. I can do this. I might do this. Nah, I will. Eventually.

14 notes · View notes