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self-proclaimed-chaotic-good · 4 years

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What We Do In The Star Destroyer | Kylo Ren/Ben Solo x Reader (Oneshot)

Words: 3038

A/N: This came to me when I started to imagine reader as this bubbly person skipping around the Star Destroyer and was dating Kylo Ren. I started writing this months ago, but only now I’ve managed to finish it. I’ve been meaning to write for Adam Driver’s characters for a while anyways.

The captain with the chromium armor and a cape sighed as she sat down in front of you. You couldn’t see her face, but from her body language, you could tell she was impatient and that she wanted to leave. If you were anyone else, she would have. But, you weren’t just anyone. You were Kylo Ren’s partner and anyone would be crazy to mess with you. Plus, she had grown rather fond of you and didn’t want you sulking around if no one went along with whatever it was you were currently doing.

You gave her a bright smile as you finished setting up the recording equipment. “Okay, we’re all set up. State your name and your rank. Describe what you do in the First Order,” you prompted.

The captain sighed again, the sound distorted by the mask. “Why are we doing this again?”

“Well, if we want people on our side, instead of blowing up an entire planet and wasting potential territory, man power, and resources, why don’t we do something that can persuade them to join,” you said optimistically, rubbing your hands together. Also, you wanted to see these mean, stone-faced officers squirm in front of your bright disposition, but they don’t need to know that.

She looked around, then nodded in agreement. “You’re putting together a propaganda project,” she said slowly, “Does Kylo Ren know of this?”

“Yup, yup.” You waited expectantly.

In fact, Kylo was rather amused by this idea and since you were growing bored walking around the Star Destroyer with a constant guard, he knew you needed something to do or else you would start finding ways to distract him while he was working. No one knew how you met each other or how it was possible that Kylo Ren had a partner, especially someone as bright as you, but they kept their curiosities to themselves if they didn't want it to reach him.

She sighed for the third time. “I’m Captain Phasma of the First Order, a senior officer who commands legions of stormtroopers into battle and oversees their military training,” Phasma stated into the recorder.

“And, Captain Phasma, how did you find yourself being one of the senior officers of the First Order?”

She shrugged. “It’s a long story and I have new recruits to train-”

“We have time,” you interrupted with a sweet smile, “and I’m sure Kylo would understand.”

Captain Phasma cleared her throat. She didn’t want to admit this to anyone, but seeing someone so happy all the time was always unsettling for her. If they don’t show an ugly side to themselves, they can’t be trusted. No one has ever seen you genuinely angry. Only sulky, maybe a bit sad, but people just assumed that you had a fight with Kylo Ren or you were just bored. Yet, the two of you were always so gentle towards each other, even with others around and you always managed to find something to occupy your time.

She didn’t want to find out what would happen if you were upset. Once, Kylo Ren got angry at you for ditching one of the guards for a couple of hours while on a mission and Captain Phasma wasn’t so sure - and she was always confident in her keen eyesight - that she saw Kylo Ren flinch as you stopped pouting at him and sucked in a breath. You stood up straighter and tilted your head at him. He stood there for a moment before moving you back into the ship and he stayed in the room with you for the rest of the night.

“Well-” Captain Phasma started, and went on to telling how she stumbled upon Brendol Hux, the general’s father, and had aided him. That opened up opportunities for her to join the First Order and climb up the ranks to captain.

After your interview with Captain Phasma was wrapped up, you excused her and packed up your things. Kylo was still away on another mission, so you figured you could pay the general a visit. You were hesitant at first to include him in, but he was the general and he was the one that gave the speeches to the First Order. It would be good content for the recording and maybe it would give you a chance to get to know him more. It was a frenemies relationship at the moment, but you were sure that could change if you spent some time with the grumpy man.

You nodded to yourself as you resolved to head towards the general’s office. Just before she turned the corner, Captain Phasma paused as she watched you set off to find General Hux with a smile on your face. She wasn’t one to fall into gossip or care about other people’s whereabouts, unless it obstructed the goals of the First Order, of course. And while she was relieved that she was finished with her part in your project, she couldn’t help but wish to be in the room and watch as you interview the general.

General Hux had once made a comment, saying that having you around was making Kylo Ren distracted and weak. All while in front of both of them. He immediately started choking, body twitching as his hands went up to scratch around the invisible force around his neck. Kylo Ren was gripping at his lightsaber as he stared him down, but his hand reached around to grab yours and the force-choke was lifted from him. General Hux wanted to make another comment as they left holding hands, but Captain Phasma advised against it.

“Armi,” you sang, knocking on the general’s office door.

The door slid open, revealing a sneering red-headed General. You smiled at him and held up your recording equipment. He looked over at them and sighed before checking to see if anyone was watching. You waited patiently until he turned around and walked back into his office, holding the door open for you.

“Thanks, Armi,” you said, waltzing over to one of the chairs across from his desk.

He sniffed before taking his seat at his desk, his blue eyes trying to suss you out as you set up the recording equipment on the table. He had heard about your little project and was told, well, threatened to go along with it. He often wondered if Snoke had ever known about you and what his opinions were on your influence on Kylo Ren. Once it was all set, you scooted the chair closer and pressed record.

“Okay, thanks for agreeing to do this-”

“I hadn’t said anything,” Hux said coldly.

You smiled at that. “You let me in your office,” you said, gesturing to the room, “Besides, you’re the First Order’s general. You need to be a part of this. Who better to have in this recording than the rather enforcing and eloquent General Armitage Hux?”

He hummed, relaxing in his seat. “Okay, where do we start?”

“Let’s just start with the basics, shall we? Name and rank?” You started the recorder and waited patiently for him to start.

Hux cleared his throat. “General Armitage Hux of the First Order-”

You were skipping through the corridors of the base, making your way back to your shared quarters with Kylo. You had done rounds around the base, collecting enough interviews for your little project, and were ready to start editing them together. Kylo had been sent out to another mission again, which you made very clear that you were disappointed about, but knew that it was a part of his training that he insisted on doing with Snoke. You never trusted Snoke. Sure, your boyfriend had been trying to walk the path of the darkside for a while now, but there was something about the Supreme Leader that felt… fake.

Just as you reached the door to your quarters, there was a twist in your gut. There was something going on, something wrong. You quickly punched the code in and made a beeline towards your closet, tossing the recording equipment on a nearby table before stooping down to the bottom of the closet for a box you had buried in the back. Once you collected what you needed, you walked back out and set out to find Kylo.

You stormed towards the so-called throne room where a projection of Snoke usually sat. This time, he was physically there, and he was not as impressive as everyone made him out to be. Kylo whipped his head around, standing up from his kneeled position. His eyes widened, before narrowing.

“What are you doing here?” he demanded, almost panicked.

You lifted your chin and raised an eyebrow. “I sneezed. Figured someone was talking about me, so I came to check,” you replied, your eyes landing on Snoke.

“(Y/n)-” Kylo tried to warn.

Snoke chuckled. “Perfect. This makes things easier,” his voice boomed as he lifted a finger, “Come, child.” You felt the force trying to pull you towards him, but you resisted as much as you can, clenching your fists and gritting your teeth. Snoke paused, before letting out another chuckle. “Grab her!”

Kylo hesitated, looking between his master and his partner. “Supreme Leader, is this necessary?”

“General Hux claims that they have been a distraction from your training,” Snoke snarled, “Is this true, or is he lying to me?”

“It is a misunderstanding. It won’t happen again,” Kylo said firmly.

“Then get rid of them so it won’t. That is an order.”

“You know,” you said, standing in front of Kylo, “I’m getting sick and tired of your tricks.”

“How dare you-”

You turned to Kylo, Snoke growling as you ignored him. “What are you doing, (Y/n)? This is dangerous,” Kylo said in a low voice.

“Sweetie, I think it’s time to do things my way. This is getting out of hand and there’s no way that I’m going to let a puppet order you around-”

“What are you doing, (Y/n)?” Kylo hissed, wondering why you were messing around with the Supreme Leader present.

“He’s messing with you,” you said, not afraid that Snoke could hear.

Kylo straightened, looking you dead in the eyes. He knew for a while, but he hadn’t done anything about it.There were times where Kylo frustrated you with his stubbornness. It wasn’t like you were made out of pure light, you knew well enough that there was some darkness within you. This whole fight between the light and darkness was getting quite foolish and suddenly it was no longer about the greater good of the people, just power, authority, and self-righteousness.

Because of the inflexible teachings of the Jedi, any speck of dark taint within anyone’s soul seemed to doom them to be casted out and left to suffer with their inner turmoil about their identity alone, vulnerable. You remembered Ben storming into your room, hands pulling at his hair as he paced around and dumped everything on you. Master Jedi Luke Skywalker, his own uncle, tried to kill him in his sleep because of the voices in his head.

You ran away with him that night.

You worked so hard to protect the both of you, but he had to go and fall in with those Knights of Ren and work with the First Order. All because he felt weak, that he needed more power. He insisted that he had a plan and you knew that there were things that he had to decide on his own. You just wished that he would tell you.

“What are you doing? Grab them or I will!” Snoke snapped.

You continued your unwavering eye contact with your boyfriend as you raised a hand and channelled all of your frustration and rage into crackling energy. Kylo’s eyes darted to your hand and realized what you were about to do. Even before you linked your minds, you knew each other well enough that you could read each other’s nonverbal language. He lowered his gaze and slowly raised his own hand, mirroring you. His brows furrowed as he concentrated on controlling the dark energy.

Snoke may have been his master, but there were many things that he had not taught him and he was well aware of it. As if he was purposely holding him back. You, who learned both the ways of the dark and light side on your own, had taught him a few things. You were always so calm, empathetic, and rational, yet you belonged to neither side of the Force.

“Why try and finish what your grandfather started,” you said, the lightning growing by the second, “when you can accomplish what he failed to do? Bring balance to the Force, Ben. Get rid of this trivial light and darkness and become both. What do you choose?”

Kylo swallowed, the lightning reflecting from his eyes as they watered. You had your arms spread, giving him an opening to strike you if he wanted. You knew that a confrontation like this would happen. You knew when he killed your fellow trainees from the Jedi temple. You knew when he killed his own father. Each time you had an argument and each time you challenged if he would do the same to you, too, for the sake of unlimited dark power.

You felt the pull before Kylo could respond. With your attention away from Snoke, he Force-pulled you towards his throne, your feet scuffing against the floor as you tried to gain your footing.

“I knew you were hiding something from me,” Snoke growled, his gnarly fingers raised, lifting you off the floor. “Someone strong with the Force. Join me and I can make you even more powerful.”

You faced Kylo one last time, panic and desperation in his eyes, before your body was twisted around so you were facing Snoke’s pale face. A puppet. And you were determined to find out who was pulling those strings. You narrowed your eyes and he visibly braced himself as you raised your hand in defiance, but no lightning came out, no force-pull. Your other hand reached around and you dropped your lightsaber, a gift that Kylo gave you for your birthday.

Kylo rushed forward, skidding to halt and caught it. He turned his eyes towards his master. Former master. And he ignited it, a purple glow illuminating his face.

“Is this what you choose? How dare-”

“I choose her,” Kylo spat.

In that moment, you channelled lightning from your hands and shot at Snoke. The Force he held you with dropped. You felt gravity taking its course as you plummeted down. You waited for the right moment to flip backwards, landing safely with your hands and knees. Kylo used that opportunity to charge at Snoke. You did all you can to help create an opening for him.

“The floor,” you said into his mind, “I’ll boost you.”

He slashed downwards, blowing chunks of the floor out, giving enough for you to lift off the ground until he was eye level with Snoke.

“You will regret this. You will never be as powerful as Vader. Not without me! You will be weak without me!” Snoke warned.

Kylo huffed. “You underestimate my power!”

With that, you launched him upward. He jumped towards Snoke, twirling your lightsaber, before swinging it down in a wide arch. The purple saber sliced through his pale skin with ease and in a matter of seconds, his head toppled to the floor.

Kylo landed, panting as he stared down at Snoke’s head. You ran towards him, wrapping your arms around his torso and sighed in relief. He deactivated the lightsaber and handed it back to you.

“You know what we have to do,” you mumbled into his shirt.

He nodded solemnly, turning in your arms. “Let’s go. We need to find out who’s behind this.”

“Are you okay about this?”

He sighed. “You were right and I’m sorry that it took me this long to realize it. You should have left, but you didn’t. Thank you for showing me the way.”

You shook your head. “You already knew where to go, you just needed a little push.”

He gently brushed his thumb across your cheek as leaned into him. A smile graced his lips as you stared at him with adoring eyes, even after everything he had done. It wasn’t as if your hands were clean. You’ve killed before during the times where your arguments had grown so bad, that you’d leave and take up mercenary work. He always tried to have people keep an eye on you and he knew that you could choose to come back if you wanted to.

Thundering footsteps echoed into the wide room, General Hux at the forefront. His eyes landed on Snoke’s head and he sneered at Kylo.

Kylo shrugged, almost too casually. “(Y/n) did it,” he pointed at you with a smirk.

Your jaw dropped. “Ben Solo, you nerfherder!” you shouted as he walked passed Hux and the stormtroopers. You growled, stomping after him.

Once the two of you were back in your room, you packed everything along with other provisions before heading towards one of the ships. He told you to wait inside while he went to finish something. When he came back, he wore a smug smirk on his face.

“What did you do?” you asked cautiously.

“Nothing…” You pursed your lips and waited as he started up the engines. “Okay, I wrecked Hux’s office. No big deal.”

“Get them!” you heard Hux scream.

You turned and saw Hux through the window throwing down a recorder and holopad before smashing it with his boot. Your boyfriend was already shifting gears, his smirk turning to a wide grin.

“Ben, what did you do?” you pressed.

“I might have also left our sex tape on his desk’s remains,” he said. The ship jerked forward before you could snap at him. “Relax, (Y/n/n), it’s going to be a long ride.”

“I can’t believe you’ve done that,” you muttered.

“It was your idea when you brought that recording equipment on board in the first place.”

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t. You wouldn’t stand to lose a handsome guy like me.”

“Just fly, Ben.”

#kylo ren x reader #ben solo x reader #star wars imagine #Kylo Ren #Ben Solo #I suck at writing action scenes

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twoidiotwriters1 · 4 years

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Home- Chapter 7 (Kylo Ren/Ben Solo x F!Oc)

A/N: School: Must do a two page essay.

Me: I can’t do iiiiit

Also me: Write a fanfic of 2,491 words. WUUUUUUU

Words: 2,491

Masterlist

Chapter 6

"Enough!"

I breathe hard and open my eyes. I'm back in the black room, on my knees near the bathroom door. I turn back and Kylo is also on the ground. His face is covered in sweat

"What was that?" I say in a whisper. "Did you see it too?”

Kylo doesn't take his eyes off me and nods slowly. Then he shakes his head, stands up, and leaves the room without saying anything.

I stay on the floor for a moment, but my leg starts to hurt, so I get up and go to the bathroom. I don't understand what just happened and it's even more confusing that it connected with Kylo. I shake my head and bring my hands to my hair pushing it away from my face, I look around.

"Is everything black?" I whisper when I see the shower, I snort at the color selection.

On the far wall is the sink and above it is a mirror, I bite my lip. I dare not go closer and see my reflection, I know that my face is disgusting. I go to the shower and press a button so that the water begins to come out, I wait for the temperature to regulate while I take off my clothes very carefully and enter the jet of water, luckily the patches that cover my wounds are waterproof, or I hope so, because I didn't think about it before.

After a few minutes, I leave the bathroom wrapped in a towel and walk to the closet, from which I take some light pants, a simple blouse and some shoes... all black. I look at some drawers and grab underwear, ignoring the thought that want to enter my brain about Kylo choosing those clothes.

After getting dressed, I sit in the middle of the bed, my eyes fixed on the door.

That memory, back at the temple… I was 8 years old, I had only been training for a couple of months. The only other person besides Luke I was talking to was Ben, even though we weren't close friends yet, we actually got together to avoid the other students.

A lot of time has passed. We are not the same people. Is he also thinking the same? It was strange…

I haven't been in connection with the force in a while, maybe the return to the forest caused this, maybe everything is out of control inside me and Kylo was close, so he could see the same as me. An accidental connection.

I growl, I don't like being lost in all this Jedi and Sith stuff, strength, balance, I feel like the first days of training.

The hours pass and without realizing it, my body falls into the comfort of the bed and I fall asleep. All the weight of the days of torture, the "chat" with Snoke, the connection disappears for a few hours.

What wakes me up is the door being opened by a little droid. I sit down and rub my eyes as I yawn. The droid checks my wounds and leaves a tray of food and water. I watch all its movements in silence until it finishes and it approaches the door, but before leaving, it raises a robotic arm towards a box and it lights up.

I frown, hadn't noticed there was a datapad. The machine presses buttons and the door opens and closes when you are outside. An idea crosses my head.

But before I can do something, I eat what it has brought me, I can’t waste any food. I put everything in its place and walk slowly towards the datapad, I slide my finger on the screen from one side to the other, but it only allows me to enter the options to ask for food, clothes or help the droids. I groan. Sure, it shouldn't be easy to get out of this stupid and boring room, but there must be some way.

I look down and see some hope, I sit on the floor, stretching my injured leg. On the wall, there is a protruding box, most likely behind it are the operating connections for the entire room. I touch the edges and apply pressure, but it’s sealed.

For the next hour I try to open the box with everything in my power: I started with a hook, then I broke a hose that was in the shower (the bathroom is a mess), then I took one of the drawers out of a nightstand and threw it against the wall, but nothing worked.

I sigh in frustration, sitting down again against the wall.

"Damn it," I growl and punch the center of the box, causing the panel to open. I look at the small door in surprise and smile.

But my celebration doesn't last long as I see so many different colored cables intertwined, I sigh and move closer. I pull one to the other, I press buttons, causing the room to go crazy, suddenly the lights turn on and off like the air conditioning, but my biggest surprise is to see that the image of the window changes to different landscapes.

“Brilliant…" I keep trying until the door opens.

"Yes!" I shout in victory raising my arms and standing as fast as my leg allows, but my emotion is interrupted by another presence. I look up and Kylo looks at me with a raised eyebrow.

"What are you supposed to be doing?” He frowns and checks the room "What the fuck?" he mutters, walks through the bathroom and realizes the mess, then turns around ready to scold me, but his attention drifts to the wall panel and he gets it.

His sight now focuses on me, I smile innocently and he touches the bridge of his nose closing his eyes for a few seconds, when he opens them, I put my arms behind my back.

"Someone came and destroyed everything,” He shakes his head and I'm sure he struggles not to laugh, he moves his mouth and clears his throat.

"Come with me, I’ll show you the training room," He turns his back to me and leaves the room.

I walk slowly and find two stormtroopers on either side of the door, I wince. Even if I could have opened the door, the watchdogs wouldn't let me go that easy.

"Did you think it would be that simple?" Kylo says looking sideways at me.

"Of course not," I sigh.

It was stupid, but I had nothing else to do anyway.

We continue down the corridors, I stay behind him without paying attention, some soldiers salute at Kylo with fear and politeness. Being distracted I don’t realize the moment we arrived, so I collide with his body, he stops in front of a door.

"Sorry," I whisper.

He touches a screen and the door opens and we both enter.

The area is huge and has several sections for training, like in the Jedi temple. I shiver at the memory.

"You know, I can't move that much," Kylo walks away and takes off the huge black cape.

"We'll start with meditation," He reaches a corner where there’s a mat and sits down crossing his long legs. I imitate him and sit in front of him, stretching my injured leg. We’re watching each other for a few minutes.

"It hurts?" I say pointing to the wound on his face.

"You must remember how to connect with the force,” He ignores me, I roll my eyes.

"Rey has a good arm, I'm surprised you still have a nose," He inhales and exhales calmly, containing his anger. "And she doesn't even workout. That must bother you,” I continue smiling.

"You must feel around you-"

"You know this is useless, I won’t go to the dark side.” His features harden.

"Do you think you have any other choice? You can’t escape, you’re hurt and if you can get out of here, you have nowhere to go. You’ll die in less than a week.” I raise an eyebrow.

"I can take care of myself, I did it for a long time…” I mutter and he smiles.

His eyes analyze me carefully.

"You weren't completely alone," He approaches my body. "Your weakness… Han Solo” I frown.

"How dare you?" His legs manage to touch mine.

"I can see your memories, you let your guard down when I said his name,” Shit. I close my mind again to any intruder and he laughs.

I bite the inside of my cheek when I listen to his laugh I can notice that now's more serious, although it sounds different, what it causes in me has not changed and that bothers me.

"What will happen if you fail?" His wolfish smile disappears.

"Failures must be punished,” He raises an eyebrow.

"Okay, if I don't finish the super effective Sith training,” I say rolling my eyes. "Why am I so important? Why does Snoke need me to be on his side? If you fail, he’ll hurt you or may even kill you. Don't you worry?”

He thinks his answer carefully.

"You must not question your supreme leader" I roll my eyes. Now I get closer.

"I know you well,” My face reaches his chin. "You want to know, but you are afraid.” His body tenses.

"Don't continue something that you know will end badly," I shake my head.

“You’re just a lost boy. A stupid one,”It seems that he wants to say something, but he stops and closes his eyes, I look at him confused.

When he opens them again, he forces himself to relax.

“You must avoid these emotions. Han Solo's death, the abandonment of your family, the temple incident–”

“Temple's attack," I correct.

“If you want to finish the training, you must suppress them or put them in your favor. All that anger and helplessness can serve you–“

“You're impossible!" I cover my face with both hands.

The pain in my temple returns and everything around me disappears.

"Come on, Ben, at this point we can see the whole island" I say walking.

“We have been here a long time. We must go back!” He answers behind me.

"You were the one with the idea, genius" I hear his growl.

"I thought you didn't want to miss dinner"

"Just a little more…“

We walk among the trees and find a hill. We go to a part where the trees end and the sunlight is bright. We share an excited look and rush to where the terrain ends, a flat space and then a cliff. Very carefully, we approach the shore.

I’m surprised to see the beautiful landscape before my eyes.

“Great…” the wind and the breeze crash against my body.

"It was worth skipping dinner," Ben whispers next to me and I laugh.

The sun is slowly setting. We were silent for a long time. “

I think we should go back now,” his voice interrupts the moment, I understand his concern, there are only a few minutes left so that everything is in complete darkness, but I just don't want to leave.

"Just a few more minutes…”

“Kiara," I roll my eyes and watch him.

“Come on, Ben. Just a little more!” He looks around indecisively. "Don't be boring.” He frowns.

"I'm not boring.”

"Then stop complaining."

"You should stop throwing a tantrum, we can come back tomorrow.”

"Ben, this is beautiful. How do you not want to stay here?"

"Sure, I forgot that your home is a garbage can, you have never seen anything like this" Now I look at him annoyed.

"Hey, quit that tone, I just want to see-"

"Yes yes, whatever…”

"Stop acting like this!” He raises his eyebrows and his annoyance is replaced by a mocking smile.

"Act as..?”

"Like a fool.” He laughs.

"Good insult. Now let's go back."

"I see why the other children can't stand you.”

"They can't stand that I'm better, they’re jealous"

"And what do you do about it? Instead of helping them, you just humiliate them”

"They don't matter to me.”

“Obviously…”

"Wait," He shakes his head, these changes are very fast. "I don't have to discuss this with a girl like you.”

He turns his back on me and I look down and pick up a small rock from the floor and throw it right at his head. He stops at the blow and turns to face me.

“What– You want to play with this way?"

It happens too fast: our bodies collide and the fight begins; I pull his hair and he pulls mine. I hit his stomach, he twists my arm, we scream in pain. At one point we’re both on the ground, very close to shore and before anyone can do anything, part of the ground falls under our weight.

I feel the lack of floor in my legs and my body falls, but Ben's arms manage to pull me back up. I fall onto my shoulder and the last thing I see is how my friend's body falls off the cliff.

“Ben!”

I crawl to avoid falling and look down. I let out a sigh of relief, which doesn't last long.

A part of the cliff protrudes a few meters from where I am, this prevented Ben from falling into the sea. My breathing is very fast and my heart is going a thousand per hour. I walk away again and look around, the darkness now reigns throughout the place, making the forest darker.

“Ok... ok..." I try to focus. "Ben fell... he's unconscious, I must– I must ask for help!” I get up and turn to the forest.

I can't do it, I can’t see anything and it will take too long.

"Oh no, no, no" I walk back and forth in despair.

Maybe if I scream too loud– no, that won't work. I can't waste time. I have no ropes to pull it with, if I also fall, it’ll be our downfall, no one can find us and we’ll die.

"Agh!" Finally, an idea arrives. I hope it works. I bite my lower lip.

I walk over to the shore again and cross my legs, control my breathing and close my eyes.

I feel the earth below me, I hear the birds singing, nocturnal animals, trees, the water hitting the rocks… With each breath it’s an effort, until I slowly open my eyes.

Ben's body levitates a short distance from me. The force breaks and before his body falls again, I take his arm and with all my effort I pull him as far as I can from the cliff.

“Ben…” a line of blood runs down his forehead to his cheek.

"We must take him to a healer.” The voice startles me and I turn to meet Luke.

“Wh– Were you here the whole time?”

“There's no time, his body’s weak." He approaches and takes Ben in his arms.

Taglist: @oopsiedoopsie23

@blackheartedspider

@fandomshit6000

#Ben solo #Kylo Ren #Star wars fanfic #Ben solo x reader #Kylo ren x reader #Star wars #Home #twoidiots writing

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notimetoblog · 5 years

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Thank you all so much for joining the World Book Day celebration! It was a pleasure getting to hear about your favorite books! I am a fervent believer that reading is so powerful. It expands your minds, takes you to places you had never even imagined, and can teach you so much about the world and ourselves.

I have compiled the list (in alphabetical order by title) of all the books that were recommended during this celebration. Each book links to the original recommendation, states the genre of the book, and has a brief synopsis of the book :D

If you would like to recommend more PLEASE FEEL FREE TO DO SO!! We could always use more books in our lives!! Thank you all again and I hope you’re able to read some books on the list that you haven't read before!

BOOK RECS

A Court of Thorns and Roses Series by Sarah J. Maas

Recommended by @wintersxsoul here

Genre: Young Adult / Romance / Fantasy

Synopsis: Feyre's survival rests upon her ability to hunt and kill – the forest where she lives is a cold, bleak place in the long winter months. So when she spots a deer in the forest being pursued by a wolf, she cannot resist fighting it for the flesh. But to do so, she must kill the predator and killing something so precious comes at a price.

Around the World in Eighty Days by Jules Verne

Recommended by @just-add-butter here

Genre: Fiction / Adventure / Classics

Synopsis: One ill-fated evening at the Reform Club, Phileas Fogg rashly bets his companions £20,000 that he can travel around the entire globe in just eighty days - and he is determined not to lose. Breaking the well-establised routine of his daily life, the reserved Englishman immediately sets off for Dover, accompanied by his hot-blooded French manservant Passepartout. Travelling by train, steamship, sailing boat, sledge and even elephant, they must overcome storms, kidnappings, natural disasters, Sioux attacks and the dogged Inspector Fix of Scotland Yard - who believes that Fogg has robbed the Bank of England - to win the extraordinary wager.

Burn for Burn Series by Jenny Han

Recommended by @marvelsangel here

Genre: Fantasy / Paranormal / Young Adult

Synopsis (of first book): Postcard-perfect Jar Island is home to charming tourist shops, pristine beaches, amazing oceanfront homes—and three girls secretly plotting revenge.KAT is sick and tired of being bullied by her former best friend.LILLIA has always looked out for her little sister, so when she discovers that one of her guy friends has been secretly hooking up with her, she’s going to put a stop to it.MARY is perpetually haunted by a traumatic event from years past, and the boy who’s responsible has yet to get what’s coming to him.None of the girls can act on their revenge fantasies alone without being suspected. But together…anything is possible. With an alliance in place, there will be no more “I wish I’d said…” or “If I could go back and do things differently...” These girls will show Jar Island that revenge is a dish best enjoyed together.

Code Name Verity By Elizabeth Wein

Recommended by @notimetoblog here

Genre: Historical Fiction / Young Adult

Synopsis: Oct. 11th, 1943 - A British spy plane crashes in Nazi-occupied France. Its pilot and passenger are best friends. One of the girls has a chance at survival. The other has lost the game before it's barely begun. When "Verity" is arrested by the Gestapo, she's sure she doesn't stand a chance. As a secret agent captured in enemy territory, she's living a spy's worst nightmare. Her Nazi interrogators give her a simple choice: reveal her mission or face a grisly execution. As she intricately weaves her confession, Verity uncovers her past, how she became friends with the pilot Maddie, and why she left Maddie in the wrecked fuselage of their plane. On each new scrap of paper, Verity battles for her life, confronting her views on courage and failure and her desperate hope to make it home. But will trading her secrets be enough to save her from the enemy?

Coming of Age in Mississippi: The Classic Autobiography of a Young Black Girl in the Rural South by Anne Moody

Recommended by anonymous here

Genre: Memoir / History / Nonfiction

Synopsis: Born to a poor couple who were tenant farmers on a plantation in Mississippi, Anne Moody lived through some of the most dangerous days of the pre-civil rights era in the South. The week before she began high school came the news of Emmet Till's lynching. Before then, she had "known the fear of hunger, hell, and the Devil. But now there was...the fear of being killed just because I was black." In that moment was born the passion for freedom and justice that would change her life.

Crazy Rich Asians Series by Kevin Kwan

Recommended by @marvelsangel here

Genre: Fiction / Romance

Synopsis (of first book): the outrageously funny debut novel about three super-rich, pedigreed Chinese families and the gossip, backbiting, and scheming that occurs when the heir to one of the most massive fortunes in Asia brings home his ABC (American-born Chinese) girlfriend to the wedding of the season.When Rachel Chu agrees to spend the summer in Singapore with her boyfriend, Nicholas Young, she envisions a humble family home, long drives to explore the island, and quality time with the man she might one day marry. What she doesn't know is that Nick's family home happens to look like a palace, that she'll ride in more private planes than cars, and that with one of Asia's most eligible bachelors on her arm, Rachel might as well have a target on her back.

Crown Duel by Sherwood Smith

Recommended by @just-add-butter here

Genre: Romance / Fantasy

Synopsis: It begins in a cold and shabby tower room, where young Countess Meliara swears to her dying father that she and her brother will defend their people from the growing greed of the king. That promise leads them into a war for which they are ill prepared, a war that threatens the homes and lives of the very people they are trying to protect. But war is simple compared to what follows, when the bloody fighting is done and a fragile peace is at hand. Although she wants to turn her back on politics and the crown, Meliara is summoned to the royal palace. There, she soon discovers, friends and enemies look alike, and intrigue fills the dance halls and the drawing rooms. If she is to survive, Meliara must learn a whole new way of fighting--with wit and words and secret alliances. In war, at least, she knew whom she could trust. Now she can trust no one.

Deadline by Chris Crutcher

Recommended by @rosegoldlilacs here

Genre: Fiction / Young Adult

Synopsis: Ben Wolf has big things planned for his senior year. Had big things planned. Now what he has is some very bad news and only one year left to make his mark on the world.How can a pint-sized, smart-ass seventeen-year-old do anything significant in the nowheresville of Trout, Idaho?

Dracula by Bram Stoker

Recommended by @wintersxsoul here

Genre: Classics / Fiction / Fantasy

Synopsis: Dracula is an 1897 Gothic horror novel by Irish author Bram Stoker. Famous for introducing the character of the vampire Count Dracula, the novel tells the story of Dracula's attempt to move from Transylvania to England so he may find new blood and spread undead curse, and the battle between Dracula and a small group of men and women led by Professor Abraham Van Helsing.

Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn

Recommended by @softhairbarnes here

Genre: Fiction / Mystery / Thriller

Synopsis: On a warm summer morning in North Carthage, Missouri, it is Nick and Amy Dunne’s fifth wedding anniversary. Presents are being wrapped and reservations are being made when Nick’s clever and beautiful wife disappears from their rented McMansion on the Mississippi River. Husband-of-the-Year Nick isn’t doing himself any favors with cringe-worthy daydreams about the slope and shape of his wife’s head, but passages from Amy's diary reveal the alpha-girl perfectionist could have put anyone dangerously on edge. Under mounting pressure from the police and the media—as well as Amy’s fiercely doting parents—the town golden boy parades an endless series of lies, deceits, and inappropriate behavior. Nick is oddly evasive, and he’s definitely bitter—but is he really a killer?

Harry Potter Saga by J.K Rowling

Recommended by @agentpegcxrter here / First book recommended by anonymous here

Genre: Fantasy / Young Adult

Synopsis (of first book): Harry Potter's life is miserable. His parents are dead and he's stuck with his heartless relatives, who force him to live in a tiny closet under the stairs. But his fortune changes when he receives a letter that tells him the truth about himself: he's a wizard. A mysterious visitor rescues him from his relatives and takes him to his new home, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. After a lifetime of bottling up his magical powers, Harry finally feels like a normal kid. But even within the Wizarding community, he is special. He is the boy who lived: the only person to have ever survived a killing curse inflicted by the evil Lord Voldemort, who launched a brutal takeover of the Wizarding world, only to vanish after failing to kill Harry.Though Harry's first year at Hogwarts is the best of his life, not everything is perfect. There is a dangerous secret object hidden within the castle walls, and Harry believes it's his responsibility to prevent it from falling into evil hands. But doing so will bring him into contact with forces more terrifying than he ever could have imagined.

Homegoing by Yaa Gyasi

Recommended by @notimetoblog here

Genre: Historical Fiction

Synopsis: Two half-sisters, Effia and Esi, are born into different villages in eighteenth-century Ghana. Effia is married off to an Englishman and lives in comfort in the palatial rooms of Cape Coast Castle. Unbeknownst to Effia, her sister, Esi, is imprisoned beneath her in the castle's dungeons, sold with thousands of others into the Gold Coast's booming slave trade, and shipped off to America, where her children and grandchildren will be raised in slavery. Generation after generation, Yaa Gyasi's magisterial first novel sets the fate of the individual against the obliterating movements of time

How Paris Became Paris: The Invention of the Modern City by Joan DeJean

Recommended by anonymous here

Genre: History / Nonfiction

Synopsis: At the beginning of the seventeenth century, Paris was known for isolated monuments but had not yet put its brand on urban space. Like other European cities, it was still emerging from its medieval past. But in a mere century Paris would be transformed into the modern and mythic city we know today.Though most people associate the signature characteristics of Paris with the public works of the nineteenth century, Joan DeJean demonstrates that the Parisian model for urban space was in fact invented two centuries earlier, when the first complete design for the French capital was drawn up and implemented.

Love Style Life by Garance Doré

Recommended by anonymous here

Genre: Nonfiction / Memoir / Fashion

Synopsis: Garance Doré, the voice and vision behind her eponymous blog, has captivated millions of readers worldwide with her fresh and appealing approach to style through storytelling. This gorgeously illustrated book takes readers on a unique narrative journey that blends Garance’s inimitable photography and illustrations with the candid, hard-won wisdom drawn from her life and her travels. Infused with her Left Bank sensibility, the eclecticism of her adopted city of New York, and the wild, passionate spirit of her native Corsica, Love Style Life is a backstage pass behind fashion’s frontlines, peppered with French-girl-next-door wit and advice on everything from mixing J.Crew with Chanel, to falling in love, to pursuing a life and career that is the perfect reflection of you.

No Longer Human by Osamu Dazai

Recommended by anonymous here

Genre: Fiction / Japanese Literature / Cultural

Synopsis: This leading postwar Japanese writer's second novel, tells the poignant and fascinating story of a young man who is caught between the breakup of the traditions of a northern Japanese aristocratic family and the impact of Western ideas. In consequence, he feels himself "disqualified from being human" (a literal translation of the Japanese title).

Poisonwood Bible by Barbara Kingsolver

Recommended by @chocochipcookieyum here

Genre: Historical Fiction / Classics

Synopsis: A story told by the wife and four daughters of Nathan Price, a fierce, evangelical Baptist who takes his family and mission to the Belgian Congo in 1959. They carry with them everything they believe they will need from home, but soon find that all of it -- from garden seeds to Scripture -- is calamitously transformed on African soil. What follows is a suspenseful epic of one family's tragic undoing and remarkable reconstruction over the course of three decades in postcolonial Africa.

Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen

Recommended by @gamorazenn here / by @agentpegcxrter here / by @arosewithdaisies here

Genre: Fiction / Romance / Classics

Synopsis: The romantic clash between the opinionated Elizabeth and her proud beau, Mr. Darcy, is a splendid performance of civilized sparring. And Jane Austen's radiant wit sparkles as her characters dance a delicate quadrille of flirtation and intrigue, making this book the most superb comedy of manners of Regency England.

Strange Weather in Tokyo by Hiromi Kawakami

Recommended by anonymous here

Genre: Fiction / Romance

Synopsis: Tsukiko is drinking alone in her local sake bar when by chance she meets one of her old high school teachers and, unable to remember his name, she falls back into her old habit of calling him 'Sensei'. After this first encounter, Tsukiko and Sensei continue to meet. Together, they share edamame beans, bottles of cold beer, and a trip to the mountains to eat wild mushrooms. As their friendship deepens, Tsukiko comes to realise that the solace she has found with Sensei might be something more.

Swiftly Tilting Planet by Madeline L’Engle

Recommended by @thesaltyduchess here

Genre: Fantasy / Young Adult / Science Fiction

Synopsis: When fifteen-year-old Charles Wallace Murry shouts out an ancient rune meant to ward off the dark in desperation, a radiant creature appears. It is Gaudior, unicorn and time traveler. Charles Wallace and Gaudior must travel into the past on the winds of time to try to find a Might-Have-Been - a moment in the past when the entire course of events leading to the present can be changed, and the future of Earth - this small, swiftly tilting planet - saved.

The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes by Arthur Conan Doyle

Recommended by @arosewithdaisies here

Genre: Fiction / Mystery / Crime / Classics / Short Stories

Synopsis: The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes is a collection of twelve short stories by Arthur Conan Doyle, featuring his fictional detective Sherlock Holmes. It was first published on 14 October 1892; the individual stories had been serialized in The Strand Magazine between July 1891 and June 1892. The stories are not in chronological order, and the only characters common to all twelve are Holmes and Dr. Watson. The stories are related in first-person narrative from Watson's point of view.

The Bean Trees by Barbara King

Recommended by @nerdgirljen in a comment here

Genre: Fiction / Contemporary

Synopsis: Clear-eyed and spirited, Taylor Greer grew up poor in rural Kentucky with the goals of avoiding pregnancy and getting away. But when she heads west with high hopes and a barely functional car, she meets the human condition head-on. By the time Taylor arrives in Tucson, Arizona, she has acquired a completely unexpected child, a three-year-old American Indian girl named Turtle, and must somehow come to terms with both motherhood and the necessity for putting down roots. Hers is a story about love and friendship, abandonment and belonging, and the discovery of surprising resources in apparently empty places.

The Chronicles of Narnia by C.S Lewis

Recommended by @agentpegcxrter here

Genre: Fantasy / Young Adult / Classics

Synopsis: Journeys to the end of the world, fantastic creatures, and epic battles between good and evil—what more could any reader ask for in one book? The book that has it all is The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, written in 1949 by Clive Staples Lewis. But Lewis did not stop there. Six more books followed, and together they became known as The Chronicles of Narnia.

The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald

Recommended by @notimetoblog here / by @arosewithdaisies here

Genre: Fiction / Classics

Synopsis: This exemplary novel of the Jazz Age has been acclaimed by generations of readers. The story is of the fabulously wealthy Jay Gatsby and his new love for the beautiful Daisy Buchanan, of lavish parties on Long Island at a time when The New York Times noted "gin was the national drink and sex the national obsession," it is an exquisitely crafted tale of America in the 1920s. The Great Gatsby is one of the great classics of twentieth-century literature.

The Goldfinch by Donna Tart

Recommended by @lunardanvers here

Genre: Fiction / Contemporary

Synopsis: It begins with a boy. Theo Decker, a thirteen-year-old New Yorker, miraculously survives an accident that kills his mother. Abandoned by his father, Theo is taken in by the family of a wealthy friend. Bewildered by his strange new home on Park Avenue, disturbed by schoolmates who don't know how to talk to him, and tormented above all by his unbearable longing for his mother, he clings to one thing that reminds him of her: a small, mysteriously captivating painting that ultimately draws Theo into the underworld of art.As an adult, Theo moves silkily between the drawing rooms of the rich and the dusty labyrinth of an antiques store where he works. He is alienated and in love-and at the center of a narrowing, ever more dangerous circle.

The Gospel of Loki by Joanne M. Harris

Recommended by @wintersxsoul here

Genre: Fiction / Mythology / Fantasy

Synopsis: The novel is a brilliant first-person narrative of the rise and fall of the Norse gods - retold from the point of view of the world's ultimate trickster, Loki. It tells the story of Loki's recruitment from the underworld of Chaos, his many exploits on behalf of his one-eyed master, Odin, through to his eventual betrayal of the gods and the fall of Asgard itself.

The Hate U Give by Angie Thomas

Recommended by @marvelsangel here

Genre: Fiction / Young Adult

Synopsis: Sixteen-year-old Starr Carter moves between two worlds: the poor neighborhood where she lives and the fancy suburban prep school she attends. The uneasy balance between these worlds is shattered when Starr witnesses the fatal shooting of her childhood best friend Khalil at the hands of a police officer. Khalil was unarmed.Soon afterward, his death is a national headline. Some are calling him a thug, maybe even a drug dealer and a gangbanger. Protesters are taking to the streets in Khalil’s name. Some cops and the local drug lord try to intimidate Starr and her family. What everyone wants to know is: what really went down that night? And the only person alive who can answer that is Starr

The Immortal Rules Series by Julie Kagawa

Recommended by anonymous here

Genre: Young Adult / Fantasy / Paranormal

Synopsis: Allison Sekemoto survives in the Fringe, the outermost circle of a walled-in city. By day, she and her crew scavenge for food. By night, any one of them could be eaten. Some days, all that drives Allie is her hatred of them—the vampires who keep humans as blood cattle. Until the night Allie herself dies and becomes one of the monsters.

The Martian Chronicles by Ray Bradbury

Recommended by @redandpurpleskies here

Genre: Science Fiction / Classic

Synopsis: The Martian Chronicles tells the story of humanity’s repeated attempts to colonize the red planet. The first men were few. Most succumbed to a disease they called the Great Loneliness when they saw their home planet dwindle to the size of a fist. They felt they had never been born. Those few that survived found no welcome on Mars. The shape-changing Martians thought they were native lunatics and duly locked them up.But more rockets arrived from Earth, and more, piercing the hallucinations projected by the Martians. People brought their old prejudices with them – and their desires and fantasies, tainted dreams. These were soon inhabited by the strange native beings, with their caged flowers and birds of flame.

The Setting Sun by Osamu Dazai

Recommended by anonymous here

Genre: Fiction / Japanese Literature / Classics

Synopsis: The story is told through the eyes of Kazuko, the unmarried daughter of a widowed aristocrat. Her search for self meaning in a society devoid of use for her forms the crux of the novel. It is a sad story, and structurally is a novel very much within the confines of the Japanese take on the novel in a way reminiscent of authors such as Nobel Prize winner Yasunori Kawabata – the social interactions are peripheral and understated, nuances must be drawn, and for readers more used to Western novelistic forms this comes across as being rather wishy-washy. Kazuko’s mother falls ill, and due to their financial circumstances they are forced to take a cottage in the countryside. Her brother, who became addicted to opium during the war is missing. When he returns, Kazuko attempts to form a liaison with the novelist Uehara. This romantic displacement only furthers to deepen her alienation from society.

The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller

Recommended by @consttantina here

Genre: Historical Fiction / Fantasy / LGBT / Romance

Synopsis: Greece in the age of heroes. Patroclus, an awkward young prince, has been exiled to the court of King Peleus and his perfect son Achilles. By all rights their paths should never cross, but Achilles takes the shamed prince as his friend, and as they grow into young men skilled in the arts of war and medicine their bond blossoms into something deeper - despite the displeasure of Achilles' mother Thetis, a cruel sea goddess. But then word comes that Helen of Sparta has been kidnapped. Torn between love and fear for his friend, Patroclus journeys with Achilles to Troy, little knowing that the years that follow will test everything they hold dear.

The Song of the Lioness Series by Tamora Pierce

Recommended by @just-add-butter here

Genre: Fantasy / Young Adult

Synopsis: The Song of the Lioness quartet is the adventurous story of one girl's journey to overcome the obstacles facing her, become a valiant knight, and save Tortall from conquest. Alanna douses her female identity to begin her training in Alanna: The First Adventure, and when she gains squire status in In the Hand of the Goddess, her growing abilities make her a few friends -- and many enemies. Books 3 and 4 complete Alanna's adventure and secure her legend, with the new knight errant taking on desert tribesmen in The Woman Who Rides like a Man and seeking out the powerful Dominion Jewel in Lioness Rampant.

To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee

Recommended by anonymous here

Genre: Historical Fiction / Classics

Synopsis: The unforgettable novel of a childhood in a sleepy Southern town and the crisis of conscience that rocked it, To Kill A Mockingbird became both an instant bestseller and a critical success when it was first published in 1960. It went on to win the Pulitzer Prize in 1961 and was later made into an Academy Award-winning film, also a classic.Compassionate, dramatic, and deeply moving, To Kill A Mockingbird takes readers to the roots of human behavior - to innocence and experience, kindness and cruelty, love and hatred, humor and pathos. Now with over 18 million copies in print and translated into forty languages, this regional story by a young Alabama woman claims universal appeal. Harper Lee always considered her book to be a simple love story. Today it is regarded as a masterpiece of American literature.

#our world book day celebration

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you-guys--are-losers · 6 years

Text

The Darkest Hour

Prompt: #11:

“Hold on, you died.”

“Yeah, well, it didn’t stick.”

Requested By: @maiden-texas

Warning: I ACTUALLY CRIED WHILE WRITING THIS. I DON’T CRY. CONSIDER YOURSELF WARNED.

In the darkest hour of Queens, May Parker became the light that MJ clung to like a moth.

Power lines were down, entire streets were demolished. Car alarms screamed in the night for weeks after the first battle, and the air was thick with dust and ash that clawed its way down MJ’s throat with every breath. For weeks, there was no voice that the grainy air did not make raspy and hoarse. Any small exertion sent a tightness through MJ’s chest that was followed by a hacking cough.

May Parker’s apartment was a safe haven now, the only one. Ned was staying there as well, after having lost both of his parents to the same thing that had erased half of the population from earth. MJ spent most of her time with him those first few days, huddled on May’s couch with his hand clenched in hers. He stared straight ahead with hollow eyes at the window, and nothing that MJ said seemed to reach him. She wondered if it ever would.

That day on the bus had only been a week or two ago, and somehow it felt like years.

Ned had explained to MJ what had happened, and the chill that cut her to the bone as she looked at the ship was one that the girl never would be able to describe. When the attacks had begun to take place, slipping away from the school group had not been so difficult. The museum they were visiting had not been so far away from Ned’s house, so MJ had accompanied him home. Turning down Mr. Leeds’s offer of shelter had been a no-brainer, because MJ couldn’t leave her mother wondering where she was.

Her own home had been harder to reach than Ned’s because it was located on the street where the battle had taken place.

By the time MJ got there, the street was empty of the billionaire in a robot suit, the D&D impersonator with an overanimated cape, and the spiderling that MJ cared for more than she would ever admit. The whole of the street was demolished, with broken windows and screaming car alarms and thick smoke filling the air. By then, the ship had withdrawn, but MJ did not think that the Avengers had won. If they had, Tony Stark would be on every screen trying to calm the public, and there would already be cleanup crews in the streets.

No, the fact that the ship had withdrawn meant that the alien life had gotten whatever it was they had come for.

The power was out, and the streets below were crawling with cleanup crews. It had taken days to organize after the event, the horrific occurrence that many had begun to call “The Disappearing.” Those days had been chaos, their own special kind of hell that MJ prayed would never come to her mind again. Sitting there on the couch with Ned, however, it was hard not to think about crawling through debris, sometimes on hand and knees, as glass shards cut her clothing to rags and ash streaked her face. That ash had been someone, once, someone’s mother or son or brother or daughter, and now it had been reduced to a few dark particles that made MJ’s face as filthy as the rest of her.

When she had arrived at May’s house, the woman had opened the door with a hesitant stance as she used it to shield her body. As soon as she saw it was MJ, however, she unbolted the lock and quickly ushered the battered, bleeding girl inside.

“You’re here,” she had whispered in a voice that was constricted. MJ could not tell if it was the emotion that tightened May’s throat, or just the ashes. “You’re here.” There had been an embrace, one so tight and packed with emotion that it had brought tears to MJ’s eyes. This was not an uncommon occurrence; MJ had grown used to the tears. They did not seem to want to leave her alone. Still, these hurt more than most, because the embrace that would have shocked her once had become a common action in these dark days.

As she stepped over the threshold, MJ’s one-room studio that she shared with her mother looked just like all of the other damaged buildings. Every window had been broken, and there was even what looked like a shard of alien metal impaled in the wall across from a particularly damaged glass pane. The room was filled with dust and debris, and the floor was covered with shards of shattered glass.

The place that was supposed to MJ’s safe haven was damaged, yes. But some small, childish part of her prayed that maybe it would be alright. She and her mother would rebuild, and it would be secure again, the place were MJ could truly find home.

As she entered the room, MJ’s eyes locked with her mothers’. Upon seeing her daughter home, Hannah Jones’s hazel eyes filled with tears in a way that MJ had never seen before, followed by sobs of relief. As hannam embraced MJ, something strange happened. MJ did not pull away in the manner that she normally would, did not try to rationalize the tears away. Instead, she allowed herself to be held as her mother’s tears soaked into her shirt. It took the girl a moment to realize that there were tears in her eyes, too, and that these tears were pouring down her face.

The rioting had stopped, several days later, but only because a new group of people with guns. Law enforcement, or whatever was left, had managed to regroup, as had government officials. There were private lines that they could use to communicate, and the cleanup began slowly and steadily. Civilians were instructed to stay in their homes and sit quiet, and there would be rations distributed until the rubble was cleared away and they could start again.

MJ learned something in those days, the ones spent holed up in a shell of an apartment with Ned and May. She learned that the people who were most useful to the rebuilding after this war were the people who had been alone before it. She had been like that, once… Surviving by herself, without need of anything but that which she could make on her own. And now, she was sitting on the sofa beside a broken boy and a broken woman, and it was their fault that she was broken, too. It was their fault that they had forced their way into her life, their fault that they had given her something to lose .

It was Peter Parker’s fault, because his loss had crippled all of them.

Slowly, those who had already stood on their own two feet managed to rebuild. There was a normal, and it was new. This normal was waiting. They were waiting for the power to go up, waiting to see who had survived, waiting to see if maybe there was an ounce of hope to be had in all of this.

They didn’t have to wait more than a few weeks.

When the knock came at the door, Ned, May, and MJ hopped into their normal routine of May going to get the door while MJ moved Ned to hide with her in the closet. Almost as soon as MJ managed to get both herself and Ned into the darkened space, there had been a call of, “MJ? Get Ned, it’s safe.”

She let out a sharp breath, slowly easing open the closet door. If she was being forced to call for them, May would have called MJ Michelle. It was a system they had set up the first night of her arrival, a night when MJ could still taste her mother’s ashes on her lips. Ned remained expressionless still as MJ lightly tugged on his arm, pulling him out of the closet with her and into the remains of the living room.

Standing in the doorway beside May was Tony Stark.

He was not wearing a suit or anything of the sort. Instead, he wore a simple pair of pants, leather shoes, and a plain grey shirt. Though the clothing was clean, MJ could tell by the grime on his face that Stark had not bathed for days at least. His eyes were sunken and his frame was gaunt. MJ could see a place where his shirt puckered up, and through the thin cloth she could have sworn she saw bandaging.

MJ drew in a sharp breath, and her grip around Ned’s arm tightened. Even in his dazed state, Ned stepped closer to MJ, and May wet her lips. MJ could tell that she was struggling to hold back tears. “Please, sit,” the wavering, raspy voice of May Parker finally managed to force out.

Stark winced, and that was when MJ’s heart sank. Her hand fell from Ned’s arm, and her friend willingly moved, for the first time in weeks, to stumble to a chair. The boy’s dark, hopeless eyes were locked on Stark. “May,” Tony began in a voice that was so gentle it made MJ sick, “I am so-”

“Sit, please,” May repeated, and this time her voice was a little stronger.

“May-”

“Don’t call me that.”

MJ visibly recoiled at May’s outburst, stumbling into the wall behind her. A picture frame that had already been hanging precariously was misplaced by her shoulder, and it crashed to the floor with a shattering sound. Neither adult looked her way.

Stark looked pained, and MJ thought he might vomit. Before he could say anything else, May was continuing. “You don’t know me, Stark, and you don’t know these kids. These kids have been through hell. We all have. You don’t know me, you don’t know them, and you don’t know my Peter-”

Her voice cracked off, and MJ felt herself holding her breath.

“So don’t call me May, and please sit.” As she finished, May’s voice was quiet and hollow. Stark obeyed immediately, taking a seat on the sofa that was spilling out stuffing from four different places.

“Mrs. Parker,” Tony murmured, and his voice was hoarse as any of theirs was. MJ had not considered the fact that The Disappearing might have been an event not native to Earth, but now she wondered. “I’m here to talk to you about Peter.”

May pursed her lips, and for a moment, all MJ could see in her eyes was agony.

“No,” she whispered. “No, you’re not.”

“May-”

“I know how this goes.” Her eyes were empty, and MJ couldn’t bear to look at them. “I know what you’re going to say. Whatever you’ve got to tell me, I’ve heard it a million times before. I heard it when I lost my brother-in-law and my best friend in the same day, I heard it when they told me my Ben was… Was gone. I don’t want to hear it.”

Tony Stark’s face contained more grief than MJ had ever seen before, rivalled only by the hollow pits of May Parker’s eyes. “I know,” he murmured quietly. “I know, Ma- Mrs. Parker. That’s why I’m not going to tell you how sorry I am, because I think you know that.”

There was a moment of silence as Stark beheld May, and MJ could see in his eyes that he was unsure whether or not she would let him continue or just strike him. After a moment, she nodded.

“I’m not going to tell you that he was a hero, because you already know. No one knows better than the people in this room what that kid does- what Peter did every day for people who he never got to hear thank him.”

A sob escaped May Parker’s lips, and MJ found herself crossing the room to the reedy woman. MJ gripped the woman’s calloused hand in her own, and May clung to it like it was a lifeline. She looked down at MJ through cracked spectacles and attempted a smile, one that was lopsided and trembling and so terribly, horribly Peter Parker. A tear fell from May’s cheek and landed on MJ’s neck, but she did not brush it away.

“I am going to tell you that he was-” Tony Stark’s voice cracked, and MJ drew in a slow breath. “He was smart, the same way he always has been. He adapted to things that even I’ve never seen before, fought with allies we only met the day before. He looked Thanos- the one who did this- straight in the eye and used those same stupid comebacks the kid always... “

Tony Stark’s eyes squeezed shut, and he did not continue. For a moment, he just sat there, breathing deeply. Finally, he managed to whisper, “He was scared. He was a kid, and he was scared, and I’m not gonna tell you he faced death bravely because he didn’t. He wanted to keep living, the same way we all do, because that’s human.

“Until the moment Peter Parker died, he was human. And when you’re fighting someone like Thanos, being able to keep your humanity is something that no ordinary boy can do. When he died, Peter Parker was a man.”

Another sob escaped May’s lips, and suddenly MJ was supporting most of the woman’s weight. Her own heart was not beating, or at least not that MJ could feel. There was an emptiness in her chest that she could not hope to ever fill, something that was so dark and consuming that all she could do to beat it back was think about May. MJ’s hand gripped May’s as she gently lowered her into Ben’s old chair, still gripping her hand.

When Ned spoke, she nearly dropped the woman’s hand in shock.

“And he’s gone? You lost against… Against, Thanos? It’s game over?”

Stark’s eyes snapped to Ned, as did MJ’s. Her friend still looked broken, still looked battered. But Ned Leeds no longer looked empty.

Tony Stark gritted his teeth as he looked up at Ned. “No,” he spat, shaking his head. “No. No, it’s not, because if there’s anything I’ve learned in these past few days it’s that time isn’t as permanent as it used to be, and it can change sides. And that’s what it’s gonna do.”

Tony turned to face May, and his eyes softened slightly. “We’re going to fix this, May, or die trying. The original Avengers team is still here, and we made some new friends that have just as much to lose as we do. I’m not saying it’s going to be easy, but the universe is an awful lot of territory to micromanage, and we’re going to use that to our advantage. And I swear to you that I am going to spend every moment-” For a moment, Stark could not continue, and he looked away. “Every moment fighting to get your boy back.”

“Our boy,” MJ corrected. Her voice was hoarse and scraped against her throat from lack of use, but it was loud enough for them all to hear it. “He’s our boy.” May squeezed MJ’s hand as the dark-haired girl swallowed a lump in her throat. “What do we do to help, until then?”

“I can program,” Ned interjected with a grim sort of determination, “and MJ can hack. We go to Midtown, we’re both good with tech. We can- we can go through data, we can gather information, whatever.”

Stark took a deep breath, composing himself as he looked up at them. “I came here to tell you about what happened, but I also came to ask you if you would consider moving to the Upstate facility with me, just temporarily. It isn’t safe for you here, and there, you could monitor situations on the ground.”

“It isn’t safe for anybody here,” May corrected, and her voice was that of a woman struggling to keep from falling apart. “Why should we move upstate with you when all of these people are stuck here, under what’s basically martial law? Can’t you help them, too?”

The accusing bite in May’s voice did not seem to surprise Stark. He looked up at her with eyes that were filled with so much agony that MJ could not breathe. “I can’t,” he murmured. “In times like these, money doesn’t… Money isn’t a bargaining chip that is as useful as it once was. Procedure and paperwork aren’t options for us on the level they once were. I can only help on a much smaller scale. But I can help you.”

May appeared to be contemplating as she drew in a long breath.

“Please,” Stark murmured. “The kid won’t forgive me if he finds out I left you all out here in the middle of this.”

That was enough. It was as if all of the energy in May left her in one gasp, and she slowly nodded. “Alright, “she murmured. “Ned, MJ… Let’s go.”

There was nothing for them to take. Any food that had been in the apartment had either spoiled when the power went out or been stored in hiding places, just in case their home was broken into. MJ had watched out the window as groups of police, people who were supposed to be helping the victims, burst their way into apartments instead to take food with their guns blazing. The government was doing what it could, but there was little it could do to prevent law enforcement from going rogue to steal what they needed for their families. There was no clothing that they could get, other than May. She had kept a packed bag of clothing and necessities that contained almost everything valuable in the apartment. Ned was wearing a too-small hoodie and pair of pajama pants belonging to Peter, and MJ was wearing May’s jeans and one of her blouses paired with her torn jacket and combat boots. That was all that they had, and it was all they would bring with them. The ride to Stark’s facility was silent, except for the sounds of May’s muffled sobs from the passenger seat.

The arrival at Stark’s headquarters marked a new normal, and this one was a little more empty and a little more bearable all at the same time.

May had her own room at the headquarters, but Ned and MJ shared a large one. The suite had two beds and a massive bathroom and everything from a flatscreen to a minifridge. On the TV, there were news channels that were broadcasting in spite of all of the destruction, most of which came from other parts of the country that had not been hit the way New York had. The government was in shambles, trying to figure out exactly how to handle what had happened.

Ned and MJ could only watch the TV for a few minutes at a time before MJ had to shut it off. Most of the time, it was either because they were rattling off a list of the celebrities, politicians, and public figures who had died, as if they were somehow more important than all of the countless others who had faced the same fate.

Another time, MJ had needed to switch it off because the news was covering the chaos in Queens, speculating where the local hero was amidst the chaos. After switching it off, she had gone to the bathroom to vomit into the toilet while Ned held her hair.

The A.I., F.R.I.D.A.Y., told MJ and Ned how to get to the labs at their request. There, the two students found themselves surrounded by the most advanced computers that either of them had ever seen, all powered by their own generators. These, F.R.I.D.A.Y. had informed them, were theirs to use for monitoring of any alien activity on earth. They were also MJ’s only relief from being forced to think about him, about Peter Parker dying light years away from the people who loved him.

The work was therapy. It pushed away all thoughts of that miserable day from her mind, gave her something to work towards with Ned. It was a way for them to find a new normal. Slowly, surely, the days began to blur into one another. The world outside was rebuilding, no matter the fact that MJ’s heart remained in shreds. She still worked, still monitored, still poured herself into the task. But she did not remain in the headquarters at all times, the way that Ned did. Stark had insisted on compensating them a little bit for their work, and as the economy licked its wounds, the currency regained some of its normal value.

MJ went out at night. She drowned in whatever she could find-- dance music, crowded city squares, house parties-- just for a moment, just so she could breathe.

Because whenever she returned at night and collapsed in the bed she and Ned had taken to sharing, she was back in the one-room studio she shared with her mother.

They were huddled in the bathroom, with an emergency radio and blankets, as well as with the lockbox that contained their money and food. The radio whined announcements that were clearly struggling to maintain order, but from the reports of riots and the sounds of gunshots that MJ and her mother could hear from the streets, the attempt to maintain control was failing. Multiple times, MJ and her mother were forced to shut off the radio and shut up when they heard people trying to break down the door. Every second felt like another hour of hell.

The floor was cold and painful beneath MJ, and she could hear the dripping of the faucet, but after a while even that stopped. The pipe connected to it had undoubtedly been damaged, and MJ was left in the dark with only the sound of her mother’s breathing.

All MJ could think about was what was happening beyond these walls. Ned, alone with his family, Peter out in the far reaches of the earth or even somewhere in space-- they were so far away from one another, these three who had taken each others’ companionship for granted so many times. There was a large chance she would never see either of them again, never be able to make them feel any less alone. There were so many things that had gone unsaid, so many choices they hadn’t made yet.

What if Peter didn’t come back, and she never got to tell him that she loved him?

Every hour dragged, and MJ felt herself become more exhausted with each one. They faded into a haze of drooping eyelids and droning radio static and clapping a hand over her mother’s mouth when she heard footsteps outside of the door. Their front door had long since been kicked down, and MJ did not know what would greet them when it was finally safe to exit the bathroom. This was anarchy, and there were no rules now.

Just when MJ was wondering if she would be able to keep going anymore, her mother started to scream.

MJ was roused from a partial sleep by hysterical cries, and she turned to face Hannah Jones as she flicked on a flashlight beside her hands. “Mom? Mom!” she cried out in a voice that was hoarse from thirst. She reached to grab her mother by the shoulder and watched as, beneath her fingers, her mother’s body began to dissolve. Warm flesh turned to ash, and the little bits of what had once been her mother dusted MJ’s arms, coated her throat with every inhale. She was gone.

MJ was alone.

Ned almost always woke her up, but by then the damage had already been done. Each dream only made MJ long for more work, more music, something burning at the back of her throat to wash away the ache. Sometimes, if she snuck a little alcohol, she could sleep without the nightmares.

The Avengers would leave, then come back again. They would plot, they would consult Ned and MJ for any intelligence, and then they would depart again. The cycle was fruitless, again and again and again. MJ began to hear Tony Stark’s words in her head as empty promises as despair ate her alive. She only stayed for May Parker, for going to her room at night and talking in whispers, making sure that they weren’t forgetting him. Part of her thought that, no matter how many missions the Avengers went on, MJ would always find herself in that room again, forcing herself to solidify every chocolate curl and lopsided grin in her mind.

MJ had lost count of how many nights were spent that way when the sun rose over a new New York City.

MJ peeled herself from her bed with a pounding headache the same way she did every morning, making sure to be as quiet as possible as she crawled to the bathroom to retch into the toilet before grabbing her glass of water. By the time she stumbled into the computer lab in a Stark Industries hoodie and leggings, MJ had not checked the news. She collapsed into a wheeled chair the same way that she always did, opening several different windows to check the radar she monitored. It was only when F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s voice announced, “Opening lab doors,” that MJ spoke.

“Did I wake you up? I’m sorry, Leeds, it was another rough night-”

“MJ.”

The voice that reached her ears caused MJ to freeze. Her mind spun as she blinked at the monitor, struggling to breathe. That voice was one that she had talked about with May for months, remembering the voice cracks and the earnest tone and the way that it sounded when it was choked with emotion. It was a little deeper, a little hoarse. But she knew that voice.

Slowly, MJ turned the wheeled chair to face the doorway, and her eyes locked on him immediately.

He was clad in a different sort of suit, one that was metallic and fit his form perfectly. It was streaked with grime, as was the rest of him. His face was dirty, and there were bruises along his right cheekbone and over his left eye. The brown eyes that met hers, however, did not look like those of a defeated hero. They shone, and she realized they were glistening with tears. His stupid frog mouth was twisted into the lopsided grin that haunted her whenever she closed her eyes, the one that always succeeded in lifting her spirits.

MJ’s voice was the ghost of a whisper in her throat. “H-hold on,” she breathed, her heart racing. “You died.” Part of her wondered if maybe this was just her reaction to having too much to drink the night before.

“Yeah, well, it didn’t stick.”

A sob escaped MJ’s lips, and before she could help it, she was shooting across the room to him. Her arms wrapped around his neck, and suddenly her stupid best friend was using his super strength to lift her from the floor and hold her to him. MJ felt hot tears falling from her eyes, and she could feel her damp curls from where his face was pressed to her hair. She was shaking, and she was clinging to him like he was her lifeline. He was here… She was touching him, he wasn’t just a bad reaction to some vodka.

He was home.

“You… You asshole,” she sobbed against his neck. “You absolute asshole, d-don’t you ever-”

“I won’t, I won’t,” he whispered quietly against her hair. “I won’t. I’m home. They’re all home, MJ. Mr. Stark said your mom-”

Another sob, and Peter stopped talking as he held her close. “Hey,” he whispered, and there was concern in his voice. “Are you alright?”

She pulled back, just enough to look up at him as he carefully set her down. She had to admit, the fact that he had lifted her when she had two inches on him was impressive, considering he had just been dead.

“I’ve never been better,” she whispered as she let go of his neck in favor of taking one of his hands. Yes, she was in love with him, but this was about more than that. This was about feeling him under her fingers, knowing he was here and he wasn’t going to go. “You, on the other hand, smell like crap.”

Peter grinned as he used his other hand to brush away the tears that had made marks through the grime. “Yeah, I guess I’d better go-”

“No. You’re not leaving,” she interrupted. “We’re going to go see- see May and Ned. Peter, you need to go see Ned, he’s… He needs you.”

“I know,” he whispered, gently squeezing her hand as they began to walk out of the laboratory. MJ knew, deep down, that he knew how she felt about him, and she knew the same. But they both knew that this was more important. Today wasn’t about what might be… Today was about what was, and about relishing the fact that he was here. For a moment, Peter stopped, tugging her gently by the hand so that she stopped where he could look up at her. “But we’ve got time, MJ.”

MJ took a breath, and for a moment, she just focused on the feeling of his calloused hands, free of the metal suit, in hers. After a long moment, she exhaled, and then MJ stood a little straighter. Her voice held relief, pure and simple, as she repeated his statement.

“We’ve got time.”

#peter parker #mj x peter #michelle jones x peter parker #peter x mj #peter parker x michelle jones #michelle jones #michelle jones oneshot #oneshot #spideychelle oneshot #oneshots #peter parker oneshot #prompt 11 #prompt 4 #prompt list #maiden-texas #original work

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askbensolo · 6 years

Text

Journal #34: Mom Gives Me a Talking-To

“You are in huge trouble, mister,” Mom fumed, pacing furiously around her office. “Seriously? You’ve been spreading rumors about some girl you didn’t like? And not just rumors—blatant falsehoods, based on what—some dreams that you had? I raised you better than this!”

I grimaced, rubbing my sweaty palms against my pants. I wanted to explain that it hadn’t started that way; that it had all just spiraled out of control. Most of the newest rumors I hadn’t even heard of, and couldn’t possibly be held responsible for.

“It didn’t start with just the dreams, Mom,” I protested. “I would never have started telling people stuff just because I had a silly dream! I had the suspicions first, and then the dreams seemed to—“

“All right, then tell me how your suspicions began,” Mom interrupted, twirling around to face me and spreading her arms in an exaggerated gesture. I was stunned into silence.

Mom put her hands on her hips. “Go on: enlighten me. Tell me how you first became convinced Luke’s student was an evil Sith apprentice.”

“Well...I was, uh...I was talking to...”

It was then that I realized I was screwed.

“Talking to who, Ben?”

“Talking to...” My face flushed. “Talking to some people on the HoloNet...”

Mom looked at me like a handful of her neurons had just died on the spot—I swear I saw one of her eyelids twitch. I felt my cheeks grow hotter and I looked down at the floor.

“Unbelievable. Just...unbelievable. Anonymous strangers, Ben. On the HoloNet!”

“I...I’m sorry, Mom,” I said quietly, chewing at a hangnail on my left thumb. “The more we talk about it, the more I realize how stupid I was. It all seemed so real in my head... I was scared. And excited. And panicking. You know that’s a bad mix for me. And after that...well, I guess I just felt I was too far gone to back up anymore.”

“Hm,” Mom clucked, shaking her head. “I don’t know what you’re apologizing to me for, bud. I’m not the one whom everyone thinks is a Sith lord, or whatever those kids are saying about her. I understand you’re a bit jumpy, after what Snoke did to you. But that poor girl, Ben! Think of what you’ve done to her! And all because of strangers on the HoloNet.”

“Yeah...” I mumbled awkwardly.

“Well...this wouldn’t be the first time HoloNet strangers led you to make a poor life decision,” she sighed.

“It’s not their fault. It’s my fault. I just have terrible judgment,” I said anxiously.

“I won’t argue with that. You do seem to have a hard time knowing when to keep your mouth shut,” Mom agreed flatly. “And while we’re on the topic...I don’t suppose you’re to blame for the fact that every major news outlet in the galaxy suddenly knows the Organa-Solos have a foster child in their care? It’s plastered across all the headlines; featured in every holozine. We’ve had twenty requests for interviews in the past twenty-four hours. Heck, the girl hasn’t even been in our home for that long.”

“Okay, Mom, that one is not on me,” I protested. “I haven’t said a single word these last two months since we found her. You can comb my blog if you want—I’ve never mentioned the kid once. If I mentioned her right now, no one would know what I was talking about. Someone probably just saw you and Dad taking the certification classes, or saw you taking the kid home, or maybe pulled off a heist to steal the foster adoption records or something. But...”

I bit my lips with my mouth closed, and gave her a hopeful look. “...Since she’s not really a secret anymore...does that mean I can post about her now? There’s so much I’ve been wanting to say about my new tiny human buddy, and my thoughts on becoming a foster brother, and it’s super ironic, ‘cause right before we found her I was answering a bunch of questions about how much I didn’t want a sibling—”

“Well...yes and no, Ben,” Mom cautioned. “While it’s true that everyone already knows she exists and that she’s living with us, you’re still not allowed to disclose any of her personal information—not for now, at least. No holos of her, and no mentioning her name or her age or talking about where we found her.”

“Oh, c’mon, Mom! How am I supposed to talk about her without ever saying her name?”

“Make up a nickname.”

“Okay. Like...Kid? Or maybe Foster Sister? Or Fosister?”

She raised an eyebrow at me.

“Actually, scratch that last one,” I muttered.

“Generic, but functional,” she remarked. “Any of those are fine...except maybe that last one.”

Mom finally stopped pacing and sat down in the chair at her desk, taking a sip from the cold mug of caf that had been sitting there all day. “Since we’re hoping to reunite her with her family again, Ben, we don’t want her stay with us to follow her around for the rest of her life,” she explained. “We want to protect her.”

She paused and gave me a pointed look over her mug. “For example, to protect her from gossip like the kind you’ve been spreading.”

“Mom...” I pleaded.

“Besides,” Mom went on, “even if she’s only your sister for a little while, you ought to be a good example. And I don’t know about you, but gossipmongery is certainly not my idea of—”

“Is Ben in trouble, Ms. Leia?”

We both turned. There was Kid herself, standing in the doorway, her hair tangled across her shoulders. She was wrapped in a blanket, and she had tied it around her neck to form a cape. Her favorite doll was held tight against her chest.

“Well, speak of the emperor,” Mom said warmly, her expression softening. “Can’t sleep, sweetie?”

“I just wanted to make sure everything was okay,” Kid said, looking at us carefully. “I heard loud voices.”

“Sorry. We’re a loud family. You’ll get used to it,” I apologized. “Everything’s cool though. I promise.”

Kid nodded and started to leave, but then she hesitated, peeking her head back into the doorway. “After you get out of trouble...will you read me a bedtime story, Ben? Like you said you would?”

I smiled at her. “Of course, kid.”

The response was immediate—her face lit up like a sunbeam. She jumped up and down a couple of times and then skipped down the hallway. “I’ve never had a bedtime story in my entire life!” we heard her chirp, and we both chuckled. But it was kind of sad, too.

Mom turned to me and smiled.

“That was sweet of you, Ben.”

“I wanted to make her feel at home,” I replied modestly, wondering if maybe Mom would go easier on me now that I had reminded her I was at least a decent person.

“But back to your less-sweet behavior.”

I groaned.

“...Actually,” Mom mused, “I feel a little responsible for this incident as well. If you remember, I said I was going to be monitoring your HoloNet activity and your messages so that things like this don’t happen. But I’ve just gotten so busy, especially with the little girl on board.”

She combed through her loose hair thoughtfully. “If I had been keeping better track of your blogging, I would have talked to you sooner, and you wouldn’t have gotten yourself into such trouble. We’ll have to figure out a better system in the future—and I’ll have to keep my guard up, so I know you’re not publishing all of Kid’s personal information for the galaxy to see.”

“I’m almost eighteen, Mom,” I reminded her. “I’m not a child anymore. Don’t you think I’m, y’know...old enough to be independent?”

“Judging from recent events, not particularly,” Mom answered dryly. “And as long as you’re under my roof, using the HoloNet service that I’m paying for, on a device that I bought—we’ll play by my rules. Does that sound fair, son?”

I sighed.

“Yes. Mother.”

“Good,” she nodded with satisfaction. “Now...as for the situation at hand...I hope you realize that I fully expect you to apologize to Amalia.”

If I had been drinking a glass of water, I would’ve spit it all out. Instead, I choked on my own saliva and almost burst into a coughing fit. She wanted me to apologize? To Amalia? Amalia would tear me to shreds before I ever said a word!

“But Mom!” I cried.

“But nothing, mister,” she said coolly.

“She’s gonna kill me!”

“Then you’ll die doing the right thing,” she shrugged.

“You’re giving me a death sentence, Mom! You are sending me to the grave!”

“It’s what a mother does,” she quipped.

“I hear loud voices again!” Kid called down the hallway.

“Everything’s okay!” Mom and I called back simultaneously. We looked at each other.

Then she exhaled deeply and scooted her office chair closer. She took me by the hand (mine was so much bigger than hers now, I realized) and gently brushed my hair behind my ears. At once I felt like I really was a child again.

“I love you, Ben,” she said softly, leaning close enough for me to see my reflection in her eyes. “That’s why I care so much about you and your actions. You did something wrong, even if it was out of fear, and you need to set it right. No getting around it. We’ll talk more to Luke about this tomorrow, and he’ll help you figure out the best course of action for making amends. But tonight, I want you to reflect on what you’ve done, and try to put yourself in Amalia’s shoes. Do some deep self-searching. Really think about the consequences of all of this.”

I swallowed hard and nodded at the ground.

“But before that…” She squeezed my hand and smiled. “...why don’t you go read your new foster sister that bedtime story, okay?”

“Okay,” I muttered. But I knew I wouldn’t be able to focus. The idea of apologizing to Amalia for what I’d done seemed like the worst thing ever. Either she’d take my apology as an even bigger insult, or she’d just get so smug about it and make me grovel at her feet! I almost wished she really was evil, so we could just face off in a battle to the death instead of having to navigate reparations.

“Ah! The pictures pop out! And move!” Kid suddenly cried from her room (a repurposed storage closet), breaking the tension and eliciting another laugh from both of us.

“She’s never seen a holobook before?” I whispered incredulously.

“I guess not,” Mom murmured, then gave me a wink. “That means you, sir, get to read her her first one.”

I grinned.

“Also, you’re grounded,” she added sweetly. “Write a public apology for your blog, queue it up for tomorrow, and have your holopad turned in to me by the end of the night, please and thank you.”

#askbensolo #written #ben tells a story #story event: about amalia #mommy leia #kid #ben's diary

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thatbluegibson · 6 years

Text

CH 41

“If it were any warmer, this would be Malibu,” Dave bent to pick up a shell at his feet before looking it over and handing it to Liz.

“What a fresh hell that would be,” she scrunched up her nose and looked down the beach, counting just a few other people with their dogs on the mile long stretch of sand. They were completely alone at the far sound end of the cape and a mild breeze came in off the waves, but it was warm enough to walk barefoot in the sand. Her phone buzzed in her back pocket and she pulled it free.

I’m so sorry. I didn’t know he would go straight to the bar.

She sighed and tapped out a reply to Travis.

It’s fine. I just wasn’t expecting him. We’re cool.

Liz put her phone in her sweatshirt pocket when Dave bumped his shoulder into hers. “Travis says he’s sorry,” she said.

Dave shrugged and looked over her head to the rock sea wall behind her. “If you weren’t in any danger then he has nothing to be sorry for, right? Isn’t that all he signed up for?”

Liz was surprised he understood the situation so well when she barely grasped it herself, “Are you my voice of reason now?”

“I’m just saying that if you have that reaction every time you’re around the guy you’re supposed to be co-parenting with, I’m going to die an early death. A very happy early death, but early all the same.”

She flipped the shell he had given her around her fingers, smiling at his words. “I just wasn’t prepared for it,” she muttered. It wasn’t the sight of Kyle that freaked her out as much as it was him seeing her with Dave. She wasn’t ready to have the ‘who is he to you’ conversation with someone she had been devoted to for an entire decade and she wasn’t even sure what Dave was to her. After the night before, she felt like they had evolved into something more than whatever it was they had in LA, but it had been so long since she had dated that she wasn’t sure what exactly it was. On top of all that, she didn’t know how Kyle would react to her moving on. It had always been Kyle leaving her for someone else that inevitably lasted a couple weeks, maybe a month before he came back and she stupidly let him back in. And Kyle had a bit of a temper when he felt threatened which Liz was really trying to avoid.

“Is that a ship wreck?”

Dave’s question pulled Liz from her thoughts and she looked up as they approached a point in the cape that reached out into the sea making a natural sea wall between two beaches. The tide was receding, revealing several blackened tree stumps in the water.

“That’s the ghost forest. We only get to see it when a bad storm comes through,” she turned back to the rock point and looked for any signs of storm damage.

“A shipwreck would have been cooler,” Dave replied, turning away from the waves to put his arms around Liz.

She leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder, “Those tree stumps are 4,000 years old! There’s a wreck just north of here, but a storm is coming.”

Dave looked out to the clear, bright horizon, “I think whoever predicts the weather smokes far too much weed.”

“Give me his number so I can send him some product,” Liz mumbled into his sweatshirt before looking up at him, “For real, we should head back.”

“How the hell did you know a storm was coming?” Dave yelled over the wind as they ran up the steps to her house.

She unlocked the door and hurried inside, rain dripping from her clothes as she flipped on the gas fireplace. “My collarbone was screaming at me,” she grimaced, rubbing her shoulder a bit. “Doesn’t your leg hurt when the weather is about to change?”

“I guess it hurts a little, but I figured it was from walking, you weirdo,” he peeled off his soaked sweatshirt, giving her a quizzical look.

“I was told it’s something to do with the pressure in the air, but I like to think that the guy that my bone graft came from was a meteorologist,” she laughed a little and jumped when large gust of wind crashed against the house.

“You have a dead guy’s bone in your body?”

“That’s what she said,” she grinned and grabbed his sweatshirt from him, crossing the tile floor to the hallway that the laundry room was in.

Twenty minutes later they were bundled into her bed in their underwear, listening to the wind and rain outside while Dave flipped through the channels on the TV.

“Ugh,” Liz grumbled as her face briefly flashed across the screen.

“Ooo what does the outer world have to say about you today?” Dave teased, flipping the channel back. She lunged for the remote, but he held it above his head and out of her reach as video clips of Liz on various red carpets and in interviews played in rapid succession.

After finalizing her divorce in May of last year, she was seen cozying up with several different men throughout the summer…

“Slut,” Liz grumbled sarcastically as a series of candid photos of her in various social situations vaguely near another famous human male appeared.

Ben Affleck

“Producer of the last movie I was in and also, no thank you,” she shook her head, annoyed.

Chris Pratt

“I buy beef from his ranch... not a euphemism.”

Jason Momoa

“Fuck, I wish,” Liz laughed when Dave glared at her.

Aaron Rodgers

“He bought me a drink and I told him Russell Wilson is my favorite quarterback.”

Valentino Rossi

“His interpreter didn’t believe me when I said I ride and I almost fought him.”

The pictures then changed from candids to two separate photos stitched together and Liz rolled her eyes, “Now they’re just grasping.”

Leonardo DiCaprio

“I’ve literally never even met that man.”

Harry Styles

“I… don’t know who that is.”

Pictures of Liz and Johnny at their many Disney premieres scrolled by.

But the actor and sometimes rocker that claimed most of her attention last summer seems to have fallen out of favor for a different rock star…

A grainy cell phone shot of Liz and Josie staring up at the stage at Dave’s show appeared, then immediately changed to a blaring commercial. Liz looked up at Dave, but his eyes were glued to the screen.

“And here I thought my only competition was Radar,” he muttered, flopping back against the headboard.

“Please tell me you don’t honestly believe that dumpster fire of a show,” Liz said, sitting up on her knees beside him.

Dave just shook his head, but he was beginning to fully understand what Taylor had meant about the unwanted media attention. She was a big deal right now, one of the most sought after celebrities and her disappearing from LA the week before the fucking Oscars only made the media more blood thirsty. It wouldn’t be long before they were pounding on his door asking about her.

“That,” Liz jabbed a finger towards the flat screen mounted on her bedroom wall, “is not me. That’s not anybody. They have twenty four hours of air time to fill so they make shit up.”

“I know.”

“So stop looking at me like that.”

He again remained silent as the commercials ended and Liz’s picture popped back up on the screen.

… Colbert seemingly left the Hollywood rebel in the dust while falling into the arms of the ‘Nicest Guy in Rock’

A picture of Liz and Depp on set gave way to a closely cropped version of the picture of Dave and Liz in the hotel lobby before Liz gently took the remote from Dave’s hand.

No sightings of Colbert as Oscar week heats up and sources say she’s hiding out to prepare for her next big role which is already generating Oscar buzz for next year. Here’s hoping the Best Actress favorite appears before they announce her name on the big night.

“I’m quitting the industry,” she said quietly, pressing the mute button.

Dave felt his heart skip a little, “What? Why?”

“I hate it. I hate that,” Liz tilted her head towards the TV, now displaying paparazzi shots of Dave and Liz leaving the show on Saturday, her neck still streaked with red scratches. “I like acting, but it’s not worth it.”

“What about all the projects you have coming up?”

“Most of them are so far out that I can bail without legal consequences, but I have hard commitments to the next three films.”

“And how long will that take?”

“At least a year and a half,” she sighed, leaning back against the headboard next to him.

“Principle photography starts in London in three weeks on the first one, the other two are in Vancouver.” She looked over at him when he remained silent. “And you? Any big plans?”

“Just my usual post-album depressive state. Taylor, Chris and Nate have other projects lined up, so we’re on hiatus for a bit.”

“You’re breaking my little fan girl heart, Dave,” she cried, clutching her chest with a smile.

“It’s fine. I’ll take the girls to Disneyland every other day and pretend like it isn’t eating my soul from the inside out.”

“Hey, those soul sucking Disney trips paid for this house!” Liz laughed. She was happy to change the subject, but didn’t like where this was headed.

Dave looked down at the sheets between them. “I’ll probably write, maybe call Josh and Jones to do something,” he shrugged.

“Dave,” Liz said, suddenly serious, “Are you telling me you’re making another Vulture’s album?”

He looked over at her, a shadow of a smile on his face, “You’ll have to force that one out of me.”

Liz narrowed her eyes at him, “Challenge accepted.” She slid off the bed and disappeared in the walk in closet, returning a moment later and tossing a small bag and lighter onto the sheets next to Dave.

He picked it up and suspiciously eyed the professional packaging, “Selkirk Cannabis Company.”

She climbed back into bed and sat across from him, taking the bag from his hands and tearing it open. “This is a late season harvest,” she mumbled, slipping the joint between her lips and lighting it. She inhaled slowly before handing it back to Dave.

He stared at it for a moment before laughing a little, “The last time I smoked, Taylor fucking Swift had to come save my ass.”

Liz exhaled sharply with a smile before taking the joint back from him. “I heard about that,” she mumbled, her voice a little raspy from the smoke and crawled up the bed until she was inches from his face. “She’s a customer of mine,” she said, slipping her arm around his neck and taking another long drag.

“She smoked out Bieber that night,” Dave replied distractedly, his eyes focused on her lips. He was fascinated with how she could go from adorable to seductive so quickly.

Liz smiled and dipped her head, shotgunning her drag to Dave. He pulled her closer as soon as their lips met, running his hands up the backs of her thighs.

“I can almost guarantee it was my weed she did it with,” Liz said when she pulled away, smiling when Dave took the joint from her hand.

He took another drag, tasting her vanilla chapstick on the paper and leaned back against the headboard, “So how does one grow good weed?”

Liz shrugged. “Years of trial and error, I guess. It all comes down to sex.”

Dave’s eyebrows shot up and he coughed a little, “What?”

“Female plants produce the bud and what they want is a male plant to send them some pollen, so they produce more sticky resin to try and capture any that might be floating through the air.”

“O… kay?” Dave took another drag, trying to follow along.

“So I did a little experiment in college and found out that if you have a male plant nearby, but not close enough to pollinate, the female plant goes crazy and produces more and more resin. Therefore, sexual frustration equals great product.”

“Very scientific,” he replied, already feeling his head swimming a little.

“If you call a bunch of broke and stoned college kids scientific,” she laughed, watching his eyes close just slightly. “You ready to tell me about that album yet?”

“I’m not saying a word,” he laughed.

“Oh, no?” Liz smiled and took the joint from his hand, leaning over to set it on a glass tray on the nightstand before reaching back and unsnapping her bra. She slowly pulled the straps off her arms, holding the fabric to her chest to keep it from falling, “How about now?”

He grinned and shook his head slowly, relaxing back into the bed. His smile faded as she tossed her bra aside and his hands shot up to touch her, but she grabbed his wrists to stop him. Her slow smile returned and she kissed him lightly before snaking her way down his body. Dave sat perfectly still in Liz’s bed, his eyes wide and staring straight ahead at the fireplace mantle as he felt her hand slip into his boxers and her hot breath against him, “We’re making another Vulture’s record.”

#dave grohl fanfiction #dave grohl fanfic #thatbluegibson

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robotslenderman · 6 years

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So hey, I realised I only told a couple of friends of how jury duty last year went, so I’ve copy-pasted (with minor editing) the shenanigans below. Content warning under the cut.

Content warning: the guy was a pedophile who tried to (keyword being “tried”) bait 13YOs into meeting up with him.

Having said that, I walked into this case expecting to be scarred for life and instead the whole thing was so ridiculous, the man was such a loser, the victims were so badass that the jury was like “this guy is a total joke.”

Especially after the fuckboy incident.

The trial ended up being pretty goddamn funny. Mostly thanks to the Crown Prosecutor, who had no fucks to give and was yelled at more than once by the judge for getting really sarcastic.

Here are things I wrote down over the course of jury duty:

The phrase, “Having sex with twelve-year-olds is overrated.”

“John* is now going to read about masturbation.”

That time we accidentally trapped two judges in a supply closet.

The random, partial handprint on the ceiling of the courtroom. Only one other juror ever saw it.

At one point I was exhausted and pretending to read from my folder and closed my eyes for a while.

Afterwards, our jury officer went “ha ha ha I saw you but you were totally reading, right?”

“HA HA HA WHAT A COINCIDENCE YES I WAS!”

How awesome the victims are. Snips from the logs:

“Want to see a picture of my great penis?”

“What’s so great about it?”

“I love you.”

“Okay.”

“I love you.”

“I don’t.”

“Oh.”

“I’m not some Asian hooker!”

“I’m in love with you.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“Because you also said that to my sister!”

“I love both of you!”

“[Not amused]”

“Please block me, or I’ll keep wanting to talk to you. Thank you for helping me get over you, Nina*.”

The fact that the accused was trying really hard to be dodgy and creepy by convincing another victim to keep it secret. Meanwhile the victim was just as determined to bring him home and have him meet her family.

“I love you, Audrey*.”

“My name is Adriana*!”

Meanwhile, the face identity the police set up to catch the pedophile was as dumb as a post.

And the accused fell for it.

Then later spent half his time on the stand insisting the fake identity was so dumb that there’s no way he could possibly have thought she was really thirteen.

(No, really, he actually used that as a defence.)

One of the victims had the name of a Mass Effect character.

The “fuckboy” meme.

First conversation after being appointed to the jury, wondering if it’s too late to escape:

“What do you suppose we’d have to do to get kicked off the jury?”

“Come in wearing a badge saying ‘It’s Okay To Say No!’“

“OOOOOHHHHHHHH!!!”

Explanation: the marriage equality vote was going on at this time and the “No” campaign’s slogan was “It’s Okay To Say No [to same sex marriage]!”

One of the jurors is a middle eastern guy who grew out his stubble for a few days before the trial and glared at the barristers when they were rejecting jurors in the hope that they’d “think [he] looked like a terrorist” (his words) and get rid of him.

It didn’t work.

After he told us this, he said, “I should have grown a beard and put three plaits in it.”

Watching the slow decline of our next door neighbours’ collective mental health.

Waking up one morning to find they’d posted jury duty memes on their door.

“Waiting for the jury to come to a verdict”

[Picture of a skeleton]

“Look at all the fucks I give” replaced with “look at all the counts we have to decide”

A picture of a group of old white guys in suits laughing their asses off, captioned with, “And then I said it’d only take fourteen weeks!”

They’ve been deliberating for two and a half months.

Every time one of my fellow jurors ran into them they came back wide-eyed and traumatised, convinced next door had totally lost it.

“Ha ha ha, you must be new here.”

Next door’s jurors often looked over their shoulder and squinted at us suspiciously if we happened to glance in their direction when they went into their room.

Rumour has it that they’d lost it so much they’d become obnoxiously perky, in that “I’m about to go insane” kind of way. I wasn’t sure about this, but later one Very Happily opened a door for me with a massive grin and a bit of eyetwitching, and... yeah, it’s totally true, they lost it.

There was also a rumour one of their walls was covered in mugshots, but I never got to see it because of aforementioned suspicious squinting and cagey behaviour.

Occasionally, between sessions, a member of the jury will, out of the blue, say, “Fuckboy” and have the entire room crack up.

“Fuckboy 2.0!”

Wincing a bit and thinking, “Man, the Defence is asking the accused some hard questions!” only for the CP to basically go “hold my beer” and totally lay into the guy.

I will never, ever in my life see anything as awesome as the Crown Prosecutor laying into a pedophile ever again. It’s over. I may as well keel over and die now. I’m amazed the accused didn’t crack because he held this guy’s balls to the fire for three days.

Ladies and gentlemen and distinguished guests, the fucking Crown Prosecutor:

“So your aim with these meetups isn’t to have sex with underaged girls, but simply to get them to agree to meet you?”

“Yes.”

“... That’s it?"

“It’s a hobby.”

“Have you considered stamp collecting?” [Gets chewed out by the judge.]

“So the pinnacle of your sexual satisfaction is when they agree to meet, is that correct?”

“Yes. At my age, I don’t need anything more.”

[Vaguely smug] “Well, here we have Jane Doe* agreeing to meet up with you. That’s the pinnacle of your sexual satisfaction, that’s all you want from this conversation, correct?”

“Yes.”

“Great! Let’s have a cigarette!”

“In this chat log, we clearly see that this woman has claimed to be fifteen years old, and you’re now telling the jury you think she was lying. Why?”

“She’s in Rwanda, and claiming to have dated many white men. That’s not possible because I’ve been to Rwanda, there’s barely any white men like me there."

“So you must be hot property in Rwanda, huh?”

[Slightly put out] “Well, actually, yes!”

The accused kept insisting that no, cybersex didn’t turn him on unless the other person was turned on, no really, honestly, truly, he would never be aroused unless they were too and this was all for his partners’ benefits! Really!

He kept doing this until the CP blurt out, “Oh for god’s sake, if you’re so damn nice, why don’t you open a charity?”

(The judge yelled at him again.)

Reading the following sentence out in a completely deadpan tone of voice, as if describing the weather: “I suggest to you that you wrote the phrase ‘I want to suck your clit and cum -- C-U-M -- inside you’ in order to obtain an erection.”

He often read out sexually explicit excerpts like this. It got even funnier every time there was a misspelling, because the CP would absolutely insist on pronouncing it exactly as it was misspelled and also spelling it out.

“The victim said she was ‘spechless.’ I think she meant ‘speechless.’“

As he read out excerpts where entire sentences were made out of internet slang, bad spelling and acronyms, you could visibly see him age.

Srsly the other jurors thought this guy was boring. Boring. What was wrong with them this guy is amazing.

Fuckboy

The deadpan, srs bsnss dry humour of the Crown Prosecutor was only made even funnier by the contrast with his counterpart (the Defence Lawyer) being flamboyant and found of flourishing his cape every time he sits down.

The jury naming the DL “Happy Jumps” because he liked to spring out of his seat every time he was addressed and, when standing, would never stop smiling. Then when he sat down again cue the cape flourish!

(Even funnier because every single moment he wasn’t standing up he knew perfectly well his client was screwed and his face reflected it.)

I Would Now!!!! :)))) Like To Address The Jury!!!! :)))) To Inform Them :)))) That I, Happy Jumps, :))))) Speak Like This :)))) As If I'm Capitalising Every. Word. I Say. :)))) Complete with lots of. Hand. Gestures. :))))) And Emphasizing Every Other Word :)))) And Pausing. Inexplicably. In The Middle Of My. Sentences. :)))) Just So I Can :)))) Smile At The Jury :))))

He talks exACTLY LIKE MY FUCKGING DAD DOES WHAT THE FCUK

Except for the part he introduced himself to us and at one point said, “As the court case climaxes, I will -- wait, advances, I MEANT ADVANCES.”

The jurors naming one of Happy Jumps’ cronies “Benny” because of how much he looked like Ben Affleck.

At one point Benny got inexplicably banished to the public gallery.

It’s okay, he was invited back to the bar table later.

The moment Happy Jumps officially doomed his own client to never being taken seriously by the jury again:

“So, your screenname here is written as JohnDoefb*. John Doe* is your name, correct?”

“That’s correct.”

“What does ‘fb’ stand for?”

[Flinches]

“?”

[Incoherent mumbling]

“Could you please repeat that louder?”

“...”

“... ‘Fuckboy.’“

The entire jury lost their shit.

(Very, very quietly.)

#dusty talks #dusty goes to jury duty

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jessicakehoe · 4 years

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How The Recent Menswear Shows Challenged The Notion of Gender Neutral Dressing

Gender neutral fashion is becoming a more widely acknowledged concept now that a myriad of brands hock wares that are deemed ‘unisex’. But a glance at the recent menswear shows offers an alternative approach to the idea of what it’s like to dress in an non-gender specific way.

For fall/winter 2020, the message is that it’s not about wearing clothing that’s so bereft of shape or detail that it’s categorized as ‘androgynous’. Instead, it’s about designers and labels embracing gendered design conventions and proposing that anyone could in fact wear them.

Let’s consider the oft-relied on notion of un-gendered dressing being shorthand for sack-like garments that don’t imply any of the stereotypical notions of what ‘masculine’ or ‘feminine’ apparel looks like—those pieces that come in neutral tones, and feature nary a speck of glitter or swatch of lace. In contrast, the runways of Rick Owens, Dior Homme, and Louis Vuitton (to name a few), offered an array of pieces that posses what many would deem to be feminized aspects. Ruffled sleeves, tight knitted dresses, velvet evening gloves and pearl embellishments were all ‘feminine’ touches presented in collections created for a male-identifying audience.

Photograph courtesy of Imaxtree

“The inclusion of conventionally feminized items in menswear suggests the continued crossing of gender boundaries in fashion and signals that menswear designers are continuing to advocate for a more inclusive understanding of masculinity, one that welcomes and embraces femininity rather than defining itself in opposition to it,” says Dr. Ben Barry, associate professor of Equity, Diversity and Inclusion at the School of Fashion and founding director of the Centre for Fashion Diversity & Social Change at Toronto’s Ryerson University. Indeed, in the way that suiting has been adopted in womenswear for many decades (although it’s often regarded as a ‘masculine’ way of dressing), today’s designers seemingly want to do away with the constraints of what their work should look like depending on their customer’s gender.

For example, Jonathan Anderson—who helms not only the JW Anderson brand but is also creative director for the Spanish label Loewe—played with proportion, fabric and print in his newest collections. At JW Anderson, there were patterns and shapes that we’ve seen before in his womenswear offerings; a recurring paisley motif was notably splashed across a voluminous coat with a handkerchief hemline. A dramatic effect, and one decidedly more ‘feminine’ than the typical puffer coats men have long been relegated to choosing for their closets. Loewe’s show raised the idea of updated androgyny to glamorous heights, with shimmering flouncy dresses and an op-art printed caped coat cropping up as if to say, “Forget what you know about who can wear what.”

Photograph courtesy of Imaxtree

Some of Louis Vuitton’s pieces were realized in hits of fluorescent pink. Perhaps it’s trite to call on a colour’s gender signalling in 2020, but when you factor in another of designer Virgil Abloh’s ideas for the season—a trail of ruffles festooning a few tailored pieces—it all amounts to a clear call: End generalizations around what makes something wearable for a particular gender.

Palomo Spain, a line that launched in 2015 and has achieved break out status thanks to its gender non-conformity when it comes to fabrications and silhouettes, carried on with its philosophy that brocade and lace aren’t textiles exclusive to a certain gender’s clothing. A trailblazer in this movement towards detail-specific gender neutrality, the brand’s pieces recall grand courts of a long-dead king. (Just add the powdered wig.)

On that note, men have worn opulent fabrics, hues like pink and high heels throughout the ages. It begs the question: Why do these aspects of design have any novelty at all in this era of clarity around gender conventions? Much of it, as it did in Louis XIV’s day, is still a matter of access. Despite how much the fashion industry works towards being more diverse and inclusive, Dr. Barry points out that when you look at who’s wearing these pieces on the runway, they’re not your average consumer.

Photograph courtesy of Imaxtree

“I question which men are given permission to wear styles that confront narrow masculine boundaries,” he notes. “The expansion of men’s clothing has not been reflected in the bodies of men who model them. We continue to see primarily lean, tall, young, white, cis-gender and non-disabled men on the runways in these styles. While these men are given the permission and confidence to play with feminine styles, fat and disabled men are further marginalized; they’re not only excluded from fashion in general but from dressing in these fashionable feminized menswear styles.”

After adding this exclusivity to the price points of high-end designer pieces, its fair to say that ushering in a time when men will sport bows, ruffles and maxi dresses depends entirely on these pieces leaving the runway and finding a place in every day life. “Before we see most men go out to buy and wear a dress, more men with the privilege—starting with those of us in fashion—need to wear these feminine pieces outside of fashion events and in our everyday lives where these outfits are uncommon, such walking our dogs in the park or going grocery shopping,” says Dr. Barry. “Dressing our bodies in clothes associated with femininity within spaces where these outfits are not the norm will help unsettle assumptions and inspire unspoken conversations about masculinity. The goal isn’t for all men to dress in more feminine styles, but rather to make the world a safe place for those who do.”

The post How The Recent Menswear Shows Challenged The Notion of Gender Neutral Dressing appeared first on FASHION Magazine.

How The Recent Menswear Shows Challenged The Notion of Gender Neutral Dressing published first on https://borboletabags.tumblr.com/

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aion-rsa · 6 years

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Is The Marvel Villain Problem Solved by the Disney/Fox Deal?

https://ift.tt/2v0S6N3

Bring on the bad guys! Villains like Dr. Doom and Magneto are just what the doctor ordered for the MCU.

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Mike Cecchini

Marvel

Jul 29, 2018

X-Men

Avengers: Infinity War

Fantastic Four

After 20 movies, scratch that...20 wildly successful movies, Marvel Studios, for all of their crowd-pleasing accomplishments, has managed to deliver us exactly three truly memorable villains (Tom Hiddleston's Loki, Michael Keaton's Vulture, and Josh Brolin's Thanos, in case you had to ask). To use some Marvel-speak, we’re right on the cusp of “Phase Four,” and four is one higher than the number of genuinely worthwhile villains they’ve managed to put on the big screen in the last nine years (they've fared better on Netflix with Wilson Fisk, Kilgrave, Mariah Dillard, and Billy Russo, but we're talking about the movies here).

And while Marvel has struggled to deliver threatening villains since 2008, in that same period of time (and in far fewer movies) Warner Bros. gave us Heath Ledger's immortal Joker performance in The Dark Knight. Even a secondary baddie like Cillian Murphy's Scarecrow carried more weight than most of the punching bags Marvel has delivered. Tom Hardy's Bane not only broke Batman but crafted a nightmarish vision for a Gotham City that looked uncomfortably like New York. Hell, for all their struggles, the DCEU managed to give us Michael Shannon's brilliant General Zod in Man of Steel. So what's Marvel missing?

The Marvel formula is reasonably simple, and it's made even the less impressive films at least thoroughly entertaining. You make your hero, flawed though he or she may be, as enjoyable as possible to watch on screen, you keep the stakes big and loud if not demonstrably high, and you break the tension at every opportunity with some wit. It works. But audiences have caught on to this storytelling sleight-of-hand and realize that there has rarely been a moment where we really thought the villain would come out on top in a battle, let alone a war. The closest we've come is Thanos, with the godlike, reality-warping powers afforded him by the Infinity Stones, and the bonkers cliffhanger ending of Avengers: Infinity War.

There's little doubt that Tom Hiddleston's Loki was the most indispensable bad guy in the MCU. But Loki is very much a god of mischief, not a god of real evil, and with the exception of a few moments in The Avengers, it's far too easy to root for him while he's busy charming everyone in sight. On the other hand, no sane person really wanted to see the Joker, Bane, or Ra's al Ghul succeed in the Dark Knight trilogy.

The best that Iron Man had to offer, the Mandarin, had to be subverted (brilliantly or otherwise, depending on who you ask) in order to steer away from some of the more uncomfortably racist implications of the character for his appearance in Iron Man 3. Was Ben Kingsley's Mandarin memorable? Certainly. Is he a villain truly worthy of the third installment of a massive superhero movie franchise? Probably not.

But when the potential of an all-time great villain like the Red Skull (and a potentially perfect bit of casting in the case of Hugo Weaving) is squandered, something just ain’t right. Anyone remember much of what Johann Schmidt got up to in Captain America: The First Avenger other than get turned into a rainbow at the end? No? Me neither. On the other hand, outside of an exceedingly charming Robert Redford, Captain America: The Winter Soldier lacked one true villain for us to hang our hatred on, instead playing a long game with a redemption arc for the title villain. Nor was Heinrich Zemo ever sufficiently explored in Captain America: Civil War.

There’s an argument to be made that characters like Iron Man and Thor don’t have the most potent jerks in their closets to begin with, so it’s understandable that they’d have to face a parade of soldier villains in the course of their respective franchises. The problem is that, until recently, a sizable chunk of Marvel's best villains simply weren't available for use at Marvel Studios. That, of course, has changed with Disney's acquisition of 21st Century Fox, which finally opens up the doors for the rosters of the X-Men and Fantastic Four to join the ranks of the Marvel Cinematic Universe.

And while the Fantastic Four are a perfect tonal match for the MCU, and the X-Men may present more of a challenge, there's already no shortage of bankable heroes already in play (even accounting for a number of key contracts expiring after Avengers 4). But the Fox deal brings two characters far more important than the collective sum of their parts, and these two characters alone could reinvigorate Marvel movies for the next decade.

I am, of course, talking about Doctor Doom and Magneto.

Doom is arguably the greatest villain in all of comics (with apologies to the Joker). A key inspiration for Darth Vader, and long acknowledged as the driving force of villainy in the Marvel Universe from back when Thanos was just a vision in Jim Starlin's psychedelic explorations, Doom is exactly what has been missing from the MCU. A shadowy dictator with boundless scientific knowledge, a literal nation of his own to command, and an axe to grind. Think of all the technological wonders we've seen Tony Stark unleash on screen. Now imagine all of that and more being wielded by an Eastern European dictator with none of Tony's conscience.

All of the Fantastic Four movies have been deeply flawed, but the sin they all have in common is how grievously they failed the character of Victor Von Doom. My only regret is that Benedict Cumberbatch is already tied to the role of Stephen Strange, because it's difficult to imagine anyone embodying this role to more imperious perfection. Well, maybe Michael Fassbender, which brings me to our next baddie.

When you make your comic book villain Mt. Rushmore, Magneto gets a prominent place, right next to Doctor Doom and the Joker. Marvel is going to have some explaining to do about where mutants have been this entire time. If they want to explain why the world hates and fears mutants, and perhaps why most mutants prefer to keep themselves secret, then it's crucial that Magneto be the first mutant we meet in the MCU. Not only is the master of magnetism one of the most powerful mutants alive, his motivations and sense of purpose would be wholly unique to the mostly one-dimensional baddies Marvel heroes have been gleefully steamrolling. Of course, unlike Doom, who has no cinematic baggage to speak of, Magneto has a legacy of brilliant actors who have defined him. Finding someone who can fill the purple cape of Ian McKellen or Michael Fassbender will be a challenge

Neither of these are one-and-done villains, but nor are they the kinds of video game final bosses we've come to expect in most superhero movies. These are villains who carry so much weight that it's no coincidence that Fox once considered a Magneto solo movie (which eventually morphed into X-Men: First Class) or that Legion showrunner Noah Hawley has been developing a Dr. Doom movie for the studio (the status of this in the wake of the Disney buyout is currently unknown). In fact, the smartest thing Marvel can do to not only help combat superhero movie fatigue but do their best villains right and show fans they're committed to upping the threat level in future movies, is give both Doom and Magneto their own movies, and let that set the tone for their respective heroes' inclusion in the MCU. Warner Bros. is already making noises about giving baddies like Joker, Deathstroke, and Black Adam solo movies, so Disney should get ahead of this trend while they can.

While both Magneto and Doctor Doom deserve the spotlight treatment as soon as humanly possible, and it would seem the Thanos drip-feed approach is dead after Infinity War, there's one other baddie who comes to the table with the Fox deal who will require a similar assemblage of heroes to combat him when the time comes.

A giant cosmic being who literally drains the life-essence from planets and who has created a handful of marketable cosmic herals for himself? Yes, we'll be happy to meet Galactus briefly in a future Guardians of the Galaxy movie before everyone has to unite to take him on in Marvel's Fantastic Four III or whatever. And this time, you can bet your comic book collection he won't be a purple cloud.

In any case, before we all start falling over ourselves to try and cast the next Wolverine or Professor X, or start salivating at the prospect of a Brad Bird helmed Fantastic Four movie, Marvel Studios should use these key players from their latest acquisition to shore up the one glaring hole the MCU has. But after Tom Hiddleston set the standard, they'd better find some top-drawer talent to embody Doom and Magneto, pronto.

Bring on the bad guys.

(main image art by John Byrne)

from Books https://ift.tt/2B3mDf7

#aion-rsa #Books

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