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lady-amethyst18 · 3 years

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I'll hear you sing

Emma paced back and forth in her room. On her bed laid a black choir dress, a fake pearl necklace, and a compact of blush. She was getting ready for her choir concert this evening. But today was more nerve-wracking than ever. Because she was chosen as the lead singer for the last song of the show. She got lots of praise from her teachers and peers, saying that she had a beautiful voice and was perfect for the solo act. She even practiced the song every day to herself and memorized the lyrics all by heart. But when the day finally came, she felt like she was going to melt into a puddle of goo.

What if she froze out there in front of everyone? What if she messes up and forgets her cue? What if she hits a wrong note? What if the audience doesn't like her singing? What if she completely embarrasses herself out there? She started pacing faster. She held her cheeks in her hands, and her stomach started flip-flopping. "Stop stressing, Emma." She said to herself. "Stop stressing!" She repeated. She looked into the mirror, looking at her nervous face. She shook her head and groaned loudly. "I need to go for a walk." She said as she started heading downstairs and out the door.

She walked through the neighborhood, trying to clear her head of the nerves of singing solo for the first time. She still felt butterflies in her stomach, and she could swear she was starting to sweat. Perfect... She was going to look like a mess by the time she gets to the concert. She wondered if she had enough time to take a shower by the time she got back. She brushed her hair out of the way, closing her eyes while still walking. "I have to pull it together. Maybe I can just tell the teacher that I can't be the lead singer. Or perhaps I can just pretend to lose my voice and they'll get someone else to sing. Or-" She was so lost in thought that she bumped into someone. Her eyes shot open as she finally snapped back to reality. "Oh my! I'm so sorry! I-I wasn't paying attention." She apologized. "It's ok. No harm done, dear." Said the voice.

She looked up to see who she bumped into. She followed the red and white pants up to the white and gold cloak until finally, her eyes reached the top of the person's head. A white top hat with a red strap pulled over his eyes. "Balan?" She called. Balan smiled widely upon seeing the young girl. "Emma!" He exclaimed. "What a pleasant surprise! I didn't expect to be bumping into you out here."

"I should be saying the same thing." She pointed out. "What are you doing out here?"

"I was just checking up on one of the latest visitors. Their hearts are healing just fine." He looked at the girl, who started to avoid eye contact with him. "But what about you? Seems like your heart could use some cheering itself." Emma rubbed the back of her head. "I just wanted to step out for a moment to clear my head. I've got too much on my mind." She said.

Balan focused on the girl's eyes. They had a look of apprehension and the glistening sweat on her brow added to his suspicion. "Emma," He called out softly. "I'm saying this with love, darling. But you look like you're about to have a heart attack. Why don't you come back with me to the theater? Tell me what's bothering you so much." Emma looked around the corners. The theater is nowhere to be seen. "Uh... Where is the theater?" She asked. Balan smirked as he held Emma's shoulder and snapped his fingers. "Right here!" He announced. It was in the same place where Emma initially found the theater. A brightly lit alleyway through the overgrown vegetation. She couldn't help but roll her eyes at Balan's goofiness. "Now then. Ladies first." Balan humbly opened the door and gestured her inside.

He leads her inside to the lounge area. The room was quiet and well decorated with a dusk color pallet that painted the walls. The chairs and couch had plush red velvet seats with golden buttons as decoration. A water pitcher with a few glasses stood on a tray with several tea flavors and what looked to be a bowl of miscellaneous fruit. "I don't think I've been to this part of the theater. It's nice." Emma complimented. "Why, thank you. Lance and I decorated it ourselves. Why don't you sit down and relax? Take a seat wherever you want." Balan said, taking a seat on the couch. Emma decided to take a chair that was sitting away from the table.

"Now then," Balan spoke, crossing his legs. "Why don't you tell me what's going on? Why is it you look so nervous?" Emma once again avoided eye contact. She clasped her hands and held them in her knees. "I've... Got a choir concert to go to... And I got the part as lead singer for the final song." She replied. "Oh, how wonderful! This must be a big moment for you." Balan cheered. But Emma shook her head. "It's too big!" She exclaimed. "I've never sung solo ever before in my life! I get my teachers and choir classmates like my singing, but what about everyone else? I feel like there's so much riding on this moment!" She stood up and started to pace around again.

Balan just nodded as Emma continued her tangent. "Nervous sweating, fast heartbeat, tense posture, thinking about how the performance could go wrong. Yep. Seems to me you've got a terrible yet common case of stage fright." He spoke up. "You think!?" She yelled back. "What if I hit a sour note?! Or what if I miss my cue?! Or what if the audience doesn't like my singing?! There's too much pressure; I can't stand it! I don't think I can do it! If I have to sing lead, I think I'm going to pass out and die!" She sat back down in the chair, fanning herself and hyperventilating. "Ok, ok, relax. Freaking out isn't going to help. You're going to give yourself an aneurysm, and then what will you do?" Balan stood next to the girl, handing her a paper bag to breathe into. To which she snatched it out of his hand and began huffing and puffing into it.

She continued this for about a minute before she finally caught her breath. The maestro thought this was ultimately a good time to get a word in edge-wise. "Emma," He started. "What if I told you I, too, get stage fright?" Emma paused and looked at him with wide eyes. "What? YOU get stage fright? The maestro of positivity himself get's stage fright?" She asked. Balan nodded. "Yep. Sweating, tensing up, thinking about how it could all go wrong, even getting butterflies in my stomach." Emma looked doubtful. "You do NOT get butterflies."

"No, no! I really do get butterflies. See?" He pounds his stomach and spat out a butterfly. Emma watched in amusement as she watched it flutter away. She tried her best to hide a giggle. "Balan... Th-that's not funny." She said, restraining her laughter. "Oh, come on! You're laughing. Look, I'll do it again!" He pounded his stomach again and spat out another butterfly. A few bursts of laughter left her. "Balan, stop! This isn't helpful!" She laughed. Balan laughed along with her.

"Alright, all joking aside." He said at last. "I used to get terrible stage fright when I was just starting out at helping people restore their balance. I was about... Oh, 300 years old until I finally grew out of it." Emma cocked her head to the side, wondering where Balan was going with the story. "So... How did you grow out of it?" She asked. Balan shrugged. "Oh, it wasn't easy. I could barely get through the introduction without my knees knocking. Sometimes I would get so stressed I would stop rhyming. But you know, after all that time, I was finally starting to enjoy it. The longer you're on stage, and the more you do it, the thought of being afraid kind of dies. I also had a secret hack that could help with my nerves."

"And what was that?" Emma asked.

"Can you keep a secret?"

"Uh, sure."

Balan looked back and forth before kneeling down and whispering in Emma's ear. "Don't tell anyone I said this, but I always had someone cheering me on in the audience. And do you know who that was?" Emma shook her head. "It was none other than Lance." Emma's jaw dropped. She knew that Balan and Lance had a sibling relationship, but they were never two peas in a pod. "No!" She exclaimed. "Really? You're pulling my leg." Balan smiled. "It's true. This was back when we were going easier on each other, quite long before the bouts. For some reason, it comforted me knowing he was there. Now, obviously, our relationship has changed over a few millennia, but I never forgot how much he helped me." Emma smiled. It made her heart grow knowing that Lance still had a heart in there somewhere despite being a negative maestro.

"Now, don't tell Lance I said this, ok?" Balan pointed out. "He doesn't want anyone to know he has feelings. He says it will kill his stoic reputation." Emma zipped her lips and held out a hand, telling him that she promised. "I think it's thoughtful that someone would always be in the audience cheering you on." She paused for a second, thinking about what the maestro was talking about. "... Balan," She started. "Would you... Watch my concert tonight?" Balan smiled widely. "Aha! You finally picked up what I was putting down! Of course, I would love to hear you sing! What time does it start?"

"It starts at 6:30."

"Oh, that's an hour and a half from now. We better get you there quick!" The maestro looked at the girl, seeing that she still had sweat on her brow and her hair was messy after panicking about the show. "Hmm... But first, let's get you dolled up before you go to that concert."

The maestro snapped his fingers, making Emma's choir dress, necklace, and blush appear. He draped the dress and necklace over his arm while holding the compact in his hand. "Head to the bathroom and clean yourself up, dear. You still have time to clean up before you go on stage." Emma smiled as he leads her to the bathroom. He handed over the dress and compact as he waited outside for the teenager to finish up cleaning. A few minutes had passed, and Emma took a shower, blowdried and brushed her hair, put on her dress, and applied her makeup.

Balan looked over as she opened the door. "Why, Emma!" He cheered. "You look lovely! Though something is missing." He looked closely at her, trying to pinpoint what was missing. "Oh!" She announced. "My necklace! All the girls in the choir are meant to wear these fake pearl necklaces." Balan dangled the necklace with his fingers. "You're meant to wear these?" He asked.

"Yeah."

Balan scoffed. "You're not going to wear this! The star doesn't deserve FAKE pearls. Come here; I have something better." He tossed the fake necklace aside. He clasped his hands together and rubbed them firmly. When he opened his hands, a real pearl necklace appeared. Emma stood in awe. "Wow! Is this real?" She asked. Balan smiled with pride. "It's the genuine article. May I?" Emma nodded as Balan put the necklace around her neck. "There you go!" He said. "Now you're perfect!"

Emma's smiled widened. She already began to feel much better. "You promise you'll be there when it's my turn to sing?" She asked. "Cross my heart." The maestro promised as he made an X mark around his heart. "Now, go on. Your teachers and peers will want to see you. I can't wait to hear you sing." He said as he leads her to the door. "Thanks, Balan. I hope to see you there." She said as she left, hoping the maestro would keep his word.

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The concert was nearly over. It was time for the final song and Emma's lead role. She scanned the audience, looking for the top-hatted being. "Emma!" Called out a voice. It was Emma's choir director. "Are you ready for your solo?" She asked. The girl looked away. She felt her chest get tight, and she felt butterflies in her stomach again. "I'm... Expecting someone. In the audience. They promised they'd hear me sing. I can't find them." She continued to scan the audience, hoping to find her friend.

The director knelt down to her level. "I know you're nervous, Emma. But I'm sure that your friend, whoever they are, are out there in the audience right now, just waiting to hear your voice. And I know you'll be the brightest star out of anyone tonight. Have confidence in yourself, sweetheart." The whole choir group started going on the stage. "Take your place, Emma. Don't be scared. You can do it." The teacher held up two thumbs as Emma climbed up on stage.

As the curtains pulled away, the audience clapped their hands. Emma took a silent but deep breath, trying to maintain her composure. As the music started, she heard a slight sound. Her eyes wandered the auditorium until she looked in the front row. A man with seafoam green hair and a handsome white face with purple eye shadow. It was Balan! He undid the glamour for her. Seeing him, her heart instantly lifted as she started her song.

Emma could feel every ounce of nervousness melt away as she sang the lyrics. The more she carried on with the song, the less she noted the people in the auditorium. Dare she say it, she was enjoying herself. When the song was over, the crowd stood up and cheered. A single rose was thrown on stage. Emma picked it up and looked at the man in the front row. Balan clapped his hands and winked at her. Silently telling her, he knew she could do it. The teenager held back her tears of joy and smiled widely as she bowed for the audience.

#balan wonderworld #fanfiction #Emma Cole #Balan

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stuckinapatriarchalbullshitland · 3 years

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Award shows - ɟ

Heeeelloo, my fellow CS 👋🏼

The idea for this post came to me because I recently saw again that some fans still can’t explain some things about the awards, therefore, I’m going to briefly explain the things I’ve read on which they’re still confused about so that maybe I’ll automatically answer some questions you guys have too.

First of all, celebrities, whether they’re actors, singers, models, heirs, fashion mavens, aristocrats, etc., are notified months before they’ve been invited. Usually, the reason why they were invited is written along with the invitation. The reasons obviously vary. They may have been invited because they were nominated for an award, or because, and they may accept or decline, they were asked to present a category or a performance, or to interview someone on the red-carpet or backstage, or to perform, etc., etc. They can also be added as I like to say ‘+1’. But be aware, there’s a difference between being invited as a ‘+1’ and as a guest.

‘Are they not the same thing?’ you’re probably wondering. No, they are not. Being invited as a guest is simply that. A celebrity who invites their partner, or their kid, or one of their parents, or a friend, as indeed their guest. The +1, on the other hand, is a term that I’m using because I don’t think there’s one to describe when a person who is also a celebrity is invited by another one. You know the seats they show us with pictures of celebrities and how some seats next to it lack these pictures? Those seats without pictures belong to the celebrity guests or their team members. If a celebrity invites another one, then next to their picture there will also be that of the celebrity they invited. Aka, the term I’m using in this case: the +1.

I’ll give you an example:

I’m a singer and my fake PR boyfriend has to perform that night, but I don’t, and neither have I been nominated for any awards and therefore not even invited. Also to keep up appearances of our relationship, I get invited as his +1. This means that you’re gonna see my picture next to his in the seats and the cameras will film me for literally two seconds counted during his performance. It also means that my fake boyfriend and I will be wearing matching outfits, that we’ll arrive on the red carpet together, that I’ll have to show unnecessary PDA out of the blue while one of our managers films us to make us more believable and real, and that I’ll have to pretend to be happy to be his arm candy. Do I accept or do I not accept the invitation?

Yeah, of course I do. It’s a great idea actually, both to show people my support as a cheerleader for him, and as publicity. Publicity not only for us as a couple, but also for myself. Our management, and yes, we have the same management, has arranged interviews for me too on the red carpet, so why shouldn’t I accept that? Plus, I want to go. Helloo? We’re talking about an important award show. Not to mention that my girlfriend performs too the same night and has also been nominated for several awards, so it’s just an extra incentive to want to go and be able to support her. Oohh, how foolish of me. I apologize for my forgetfulness. My name is Lauren Jauregui and I’m talking about the American Music Awards 2018.

See what I did there? 😏😏😏

These events are very exclusive and have an invitation list. If you’re a celebrity and you’re not on the list, then it’s very hard for you to be able to attend. But there’s a way, and no, I’m not talking about finding a way to sneak in. The only other way to get there is by taking the place of someone who had been invited and couldn’t attend.

Let’s say you’re a celebrity and you want to go there. Let’s say you want to go because you’ve been out of the spotlight for a long time and want to make a big comeback with a beautiful dress to show yourself off. The first thing you do is call your publicist and see if there are still seats available. Not all celebrities can attend those events despite being invited because they may have other commitments, or they’re out of town, or I don’t know, they’re on tour or something like that. So there’s the possibility that you can have their seat. If there aren’t any, then your publicist themselves may be looking for another way to get you in. Again, for an X reason, the celebrity who was supposed to present an award cannot go, and therefore your publicist manages to get you the invitation as one of the presenters. If none of these options are possible, then.. well, I hope you enjoy the show watched in the living room of your home.

You want another practical example? Okay, okay, babies, I’ll content you 😏

Latin Grammy Awards 2019. Still me, Lauren Jauregui, hi 🙋🏻 🙈 I wasn’t invited. I had no reason to actually be there, except for one…

I didn’t even publicize and say on my social media that I’d have been there. It was so unexpected and awesome for you nuggets, wasn’t it? Well, my girlfriend was invited but she unfortunately couldn’t go due to other commitments. You can imagine how sad she was not only to not being able to attend, but also to not being able to perform with Alejandro who is one of the people in the industry that she loves and admires the most, right? You can imagine her pout and her kicked puppy face for not being able to sing the song she wrote and dedicated to her little sister, can’t you? Well, I couldn’t bear to see her that way, so I told her: ‘Don’t worry, babe. I gotcha. I’ll go for you. I’ll go to represent you’. Also because her team didn’t need to be there, not even to collect the award which I later discovered she won the same evening. Awards, my beautiful chickens, are shipped months after the night they are received.

And so it was. I went with Brenda (my manager). I got dolled up. I did my interviews, even teasing my fans about my new project with Tainy. I sat in my baby’s seat in the front row. THE FRONT ROW. Front rows are reserved for the evening’s award winners. They NEVER put the winners in the back rows because it would take them too long to get to the stage when their name is called otherwise. And I was there, for her. And in addition to enjoying the show, I tried to hold back my happiness, especially since there were cameras everywhere, both during Alejandro’s performance as soon as my love appeared on the screens, and when they won the Record of the Year. I swear I had to get a hold of myself. I had to restrain myself and concentrate on clapping my hands like a normal person and not smiling too big.

*end of the sketch*

As you may have noticed so far, these are the only ways to attend award shows if you are a celebrity. But, just because you’re a celebrity, there’s no guarantee that you get invited. And you certainly cannot show up there with the hope that they’ll let you in without being invited, or nominated, or without a ticket just because you’re ‘someone’. Security kicks your ass out no matter who you are.

Every year, hundreds of celebrities don’t make it onto the invitation list. Keep in mind that the ‘exclusivity’ of these events is also due to the seats. Take as an example precisely the Microsoft Theater in Los Angeles where the AMAs 2018 took place. It has 7,100 seats. These seats are reserved for people in the show’s broadcast network, the telecast’s sponsors, the production team, the accountants, the legal team, the donors, the representatives, the press and media in general, etc., and THEN for the invited celebrities including singers and their teams, so also their publicists, agents, managers, [and not even all of them have a reserved seat; maybe only one of them has it and the rest are backstage or in the dressing room or not really there], etc., actors, and as with singers, their teams, the team of people who worked on the film with them, etc. See how many people and how few seats?

I’m still not 100% sure about this but, Emmy’s, Oscars, Golden Globes, Tony’s, and Grammy’s are the only award shows where the names of the winners aren’t revealed until the envelope is opened live on stage. All the remaining shows? Pfft, it’s all an organized thing. What you see on TV, the reactions ‘Oh my God, did I win? I can’t believe it!’, ‘I really wasn’t expecting that’, they’re all fake. Yes, the emotion for the win is true, but everything else? It’s all bullshit. Winners are notified long, but very long time before that. Indeed, many award shows only invite winners to attend. Haven’t you ever noticed how in some of them the other artists nominated in that same category aren’t even there? If they happened to be there, it’s because it’s very likely that they had won another category, or were there for other reasons, like presenting a performance or whatever.

Aaaand I’m done 😎😝 I think I’ve answered pretty much all the questions I’ve seen on the subject, even though I haven’t seen them here. If you yourselves have questions about this or anything else (even if you want advice on a personal level), as I’ve already said other times, feel free to ask. I’m at your disposal 😊

And thank you, Mari. It has been a while since I’ve done this, but I hope you know that I’m serious every time I thank you. Therefore, thank you once again for virtually letting me into your world and thank you for letting me continue to have little spaces in your blog 🤗🤗🤗

Thanks also to you babies for reading, liking, and re-blogging my occasional posts. But thanks mostly for her. Thanks to those who follow my friend’s blog with the right intentions. That is, with respect and without attacking her. Thanks to those who follow her because you actually like her and the content she posts, and thanks to those who use their brains before asking or submitting something to her. Thanks for real 🙏🏼

I hope you’re all well and that your holidays are continuing with peace and serenity. Stay safe, please. Stay patient. Keep the boat afloat. As usual, always with love, F ❤️

P.S. since I’m currently on vacation for a few more days before having to go back to work, and since I have a little bit more free time, I’m preparing something else for you based on some information that I was able to found out. Stay tuned for the next post 😉 The initials of the title are U and S, so you’ll know when you see it. Byee 😘

___

I was smiling with every word of this submit. Thanks for this clarification, F. It was awesome as usual

#submission #f anon #awards shows

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i-am-a-bad-influence-writes · 3 years

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Red, White, and Blue neon lights

Steve Masterlist - Full Masterlist

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: Bucky knew damn well Steve wasn’t going to get any action himself and after the fiasco at the fair, he decided it’d be better to just have him look at women instead of having to keep them entertained. But leave it to Steve to fall in love with a burlesque performer.

Word count: 2616

Author’s note: This is with Steve after the serum. Just pretend they’re on a break from the war or smthng. I know full well that it doesn’t work like that, but I want to do this around the forties. Also, I wrote this quite quickly cause I was inspired so I didn’t preread it. Gif isn’t mine.

In the darkest alleyways of the city, Bucky drags Steve along to a bar with red, white, and blue neon lights forming the, now iconic, uncle Sam poster. From outside, Steve can hear music that is nowhere near the music you ordinarily hear in bars. It slow and sensual. He reads the sign above the door. Doll Dizzy*. America’s finest broads. “Of course they had to word it like that,” Steve thinks to himself, almost visibly shaking his head.

‘Why are we here again,‘ Steve asks Bucky, obviously uncomfortable because of the unfamiliar scene while Bucky looks to fit in.

‘Well, I was thinking-‘

‘That’s never a good idea.‘ Steve gains a slap to the arm from Bucky while he grins at him.

‘Oh shut your hole,‘ Bucky laughs, ‘see, I was thinking. If Captain America is worse at pulling chicks than a chrome dome geezer, than why not bring him somewhere where the girls are already in their unmentionables?‘

‘I feel like I should be offended.‘ Bucky grins again and puts his arm around Steve’s shoulders.

‘Come on, lets just enjoy the night.‘ Steve sighs and nods, following Bucky into the dim establishment. Bucky buys the both of them a ticket and they walk into the bar.

Inside, everything is doused in neon lights. On their left is a bar with more liquor than even Steve could ever consume and in front of them are tables, booths, and a stage. Everything looks quite overly dramatic to Steve. The curtains that cover the stage are the same ones you see at the theater and the booths and tables look a bit more like they belong in a club uptown.

Nevertheless, Bucky guides them to a booth in the back. A little discreet spot and Steve thanks him for it. His image as America’s golden boy is still imminent and he wants to keep it going that way after all that’s happened.

A scarcely clad woman comes to their table and Steve turns a bright shade of red. He tries to look anywhere but her body, but all he gains are giggles and laughs from both the woman and Bucky.

‘Afternoon gents, what can I get ya?‘ She seems friendly, but Steve still finds it hard to stay respectful.

‘My friend here has to get a bit of a buzz,‘ Bucky tells the woman with a pat on Steve’s chest, ‘what’ll do that for me?‘

‘Got just the thing. I’ll be right back.‘

‘Thanks doll.‘ The girl scurries off and Steve finally breathes again. Bucky laughs.

‘Where in the heavens did you bring me?‘

‘It’s a burlesque bar,‘ Bucky grins, ‘it’s about as much fun you can have without anyone being naked.‘

‘I don’t think-‘

‘No, stop,’ Bucky waves a finger in his face, ‘don’t think. Just enjoy the show. It’s just singing and dancing, but the girls just aren’t wearing their petticoats. That so bad?’

‘I suppose not.‘

‘That’s a good lad,‘ Bucky speaks proudly. The girl comes back over with their drinks and puts them down. She brought them a shot and a beer to chase it. Bucky hands Steve a shot and clinks their glasses together. ‘To beautiful women.’

Steve sighs and throws the shot back, knowing it’ll do nothing for him. At least Bucky is having a good time.

The curtain opens and a man in suit stands on the stage holding a piece of paper and a microphone.

‘Good evening gentlemen,‘ he says with a dirty smile. It’s the kind of smile that makes Steve feel dirty to be here. ‘We have some beautiful dolls waiting to perform for you, but first the rules. Rule number one, you don’t touch the girls. Touch the girls and you will be escorted out. Number two, no forceful behavior towards our girls. We care for our girls and we will throw you out. Number three, no vulgar language about our girls. They are here performing for your pleasure. Thank you very much for your attention. We have a beautiful line of women standing ready for you. Rose, Pansy, Lavender, Peony, but right now I have the pleasure to introduce to you, our pride and joy, Jasmine.‘

‘Are those their real names,‘ Steve asks Bucky in a whisper.

‘Of course not,‘ Bucky chuckles.

They watch as the curtains close for a short while. When they open again, a woman in a red, floor-length dress with a sweetheart neckline and a slit all the way up to her hip so you can clearly she see isn’t wearing knickers steps onto the stage. Her lips painted as red as her dress and her hair done beautifully. She stands behind the microphone, barefoot.

The men begin cheering when the piano man starts playing and the girl starts swaying her hips. Steve’s eyes go wide when he hears her voice. She has this southern sound to her voice, but it sounds heavy and dragging. It’s the kind of voice that has a story. It’s to beautiful to be like that naturally. She could put most famous singers to shame in Steve’s opinion.

‘A real looker, ain’t she,‘ Bucky elbows Steve to get his attention, but he just hums in agreement. It doesn’t strike Bucky as anything strange when Steve seems to be staring so intently at the woman. After all, they are here to ogle women.

The number ends too soon. Steve turns his attention back to his glass while Bucky continues to enjoy the women on the stage.

Song after song passes until Jasmine returns to the stage, this time dressed in much less. To Steve, she’s still as beautiful as she was before. He enjoys her singing and her enjoyment in singing. This time around, she seems to be looking at him as well. When she dances, she seems to look for his reaction every time it’s a bit more scandalous.

Or maybe he’s just imagining it. After all, there are lots of guys here. Maybe she’s looking at Bucky. Bucky is much more confident and was always considered the better looking one of them. And suddenly the song has passed.

A few minutes later, their waitress puts a bottle of champagne on their table with three glasses.

‘Oh, we didn’t order this,‘ Steve says, looking at her in confusion. She throws him a smile and just walks off. ‘What was that all about,’ he asks Bucky, but he just shrugs.

‘Good evening gents, may I join you,‘ a female voice asks them. The two look to their side and there she stands. Jasmine dressed in her clothes from the last song, or lack thereof, and a sheer robe tied over it.

‘By all means,‘ Bucky smirks, pulling Steve to his side so she’ll slide into the booth on his side.

‘I must say, I never expected Captain America to visit a place like this one,‘ she looks smug, almost proud, ‘I think this kind of corruption calls for celebration. Bucky, darling, could you open the bottle for us. Don’t shoot it please, it’s expensive.‘

Bucky follows her orders to a tea, like a good soldier should. He pours the glasses, handing her the first as a gentleman should. But she seems to have much more attention for the bigger man.

‘Cheers, to your corruption,‘ she says to Steve. He gives her a shy nods and the three take a sip. ‘So how’d this git manage to drag you down here?‘

‘Git?‘

‘What’s that? Can’t take a bit of ragging**, Barnes,‘ she teases, but quickly turns back to Steve, ‘well? You don’t seem a man who goes around in the sticks***.’ Steve isn’t sure what to say. It’s not like there’s any way to talk this into a good thing. He was nearly dragged by his hair.

‘The man has a hard time talking to women,‘ Bucky tells her, ‘so I thought I’d bring him here so he wouldn’t have to talk.‘

‘Ah, like so. Well, if I’m bothering you, you can just say.‘

‘Oh, no, I quite enjoy your company,’ Steve mutters barely audible. She grins brightly an shuffles and bit closer to him. Most of the talking is still done by Bucky and Jasmin, but he quite likes her with them. She leaned into him more and more, teasing and playing with the cuffs of his sleeves.

‘Well gents, thank you for a wonderful night. I best get going if I want to catch the last bus,‘ she smiles and gets up, ‘maybe I’ll see you two around?’ Bucky nods, but Steve is still amazed and quiet. She leaves looking utterly amused and Steve knows he’s blown it. His heart was beating too damn fast for him to be able to get any words from his mouth.

‘Ey, loverboy,‘ Bucky snaps his fingers in front of Steve’s face, ‘you good?‘

‘Yeah, fine.‘

Into the cold of the night they step. Bucky and Steve. Bucky obviously fairly buzzed, Steve awfully sober. If only he’d be able to get at least a little buzzed to match his friend. But hey, at least he doesn’t have to call a cab.

Steve drags Bucky in the direction of the car when he sees this pretty little thing sitting by the bus stop. He recognizes her right away. Jasmine.

‘Evening,‘ he greets with a small smile. She looks at him and smiles, leaning back a little to straighten her back and make herself look bigger.

‘Evening capt’n, did you have a good night,‘ she asks cheerfully.

‘Wonderful. Thank you for spending some time with us,‘ he gives a small nod in appreciation.

‘Your friend ok?‘

‘Buzzed,‘ he explains to her with a shrug, ‘nothing I can’t handle.‘

‘I can see that. He’s basically sleeping.‘

‘You miss your buss?‘ She nods, her smile faltering. ‘Need a ride?‘

‘Sorry I was acting so-‘

‘Don’t bother,‘ she giggles, ‘most proper men get weird around the bar. Just glad you’re one of them. Would be a real shame if Captain America turned out to be a dick, wouldn’t it?‘ He smiles at her joke. He know she’s just saying it to make him feel at ease, but it sounds sincere and he grasps onto that part rather than the other.

‘May I ask your name? I feel strange calling you Jasmine.‘

‘It’s Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N.‘

‘Y/N? That’s a very pretty name,‘ he compliments, trying to sound smooth but the happiness on his face is hard to miss.

‘Thank you.‘ He notices she’s staring at him while he drives. Bucky is snoring in the back seat, but it still feels quite romantic in the front. He does feel nervous, but she makes it feel easier.

‘Say Y/N, I know this isn’t quite how it’s supposed to go, but may I ask you to join me for dinner sometime?‘ He takes a quick peek over at her shocked face.

‘Oh, ehm, wow,‘ she stammers.

‘You don’t have to of course,’ he quickly tells her to make her feel at ease, but then he hears her giggle.

‘I would be honored to join you for dinner,‘ she gleams, ‘I just didn’t expect you to have the guts to ask.‘ She looks to the snoring figure in the back. ‘He’d be proud of you if he heard.’

‘We’re here.‘ Steve parks the car on the curb and runs out to open the door for her on her side. She smiles brightly when he does and takes his hand.

‘Such a gentleman,‘ she comments, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek while she gets up, ‘I like it.‘ His face turns bright red again as he walks her to her front door. ‘Wait here for a second,‘ she asks him before slipping inside. He watches the lights turn on and some rumbling inside. It takes her no longer than a minute or two before she comes back to the door holding a piece of paper. ‘My address and phone number.‘ He nods and takes it, putting it in his breast pocket.

‘I’m sorry I sound so impatient, but would you be free tomorrow,‘ he asks her, ‘see, I don’t know when I’ll be deployed again.‘

‘Tomorrow would be wonderful. Pick me up at six?‘

‘Certainly.‘ The two stare at each other for a moment, his eyes looking at her soft lips. She took off the red lipstick, but they still look amazingly inviting and soft. ‘Would it be improper to kiss you right now?‘

‘It would,‘ she answers with a mischievous smile, ‘but you’ve already seen me in my unmentionables.‘ He takes a step closer to her, gently resting his hands on her hips as she lays her hands on his shoulders.

‘We’ve been doing this whole thing backwards, haven’t we?’ She smiles at him as she feels her heart beating faster and faster. Men like this are hard to come by. And she even found one she actually likes.

‘We have,‘ she answers and presses her lips against his. It’s a short, but wonderful kiss. The both of them gleam when they let go of each other in a state of pure bliss. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow.‘ He nods and watches her go inside before he gets back in the car.

‘Who would’ve though.‘ Steve jumps out the sound of Bucky’s voice.

‘Jesus Christ Buck, you scared me,‘ he puts a hand to his chest trying to control his breathing and the adrenaline running through him.

‘I’m proud of you punk,‘ Bucky smiles and pats Steve on the back, ‘she’s quite the catch.‘ Steve smiles proudly, but looks down at the steering wheel.

‘Of course I have to manage to fall in love with a woman completely out of my reach,‘ Steve laughs, ‘it’s not the first time.‘

‘But this woman obviously wants you too,‘ Bucky tells him. They both know they’re revering to Peggy who has always been out of reach for Steve.

‘How can you be so sure about that?‘ Bucky gives him an unbelieving look, confused at Steve’s words.

‘I’m sorry, did you forgot you were just kissing her at the door,‘ he asks the man next to him, ‘believe it or not, this woman is interested in you.‘ Suddenly, Steve gets scared once again. This time because of tapping on the window. Steve rolls his window down and sees Y/N again.

‘Hey, I’m sorry to intrude, but would you want to come inside? Oh, hi Bucky.‘

‘I would love to.‘ She nods with a disappointed look on her face, knowing where this is going.

‘But you have to drive Bucky back.‘

‘I do.‘

‘No you don’t,‘ Bucky stops him, ‘we’re less than a mile from base. I can walk. No problem. Need to sober up anyway. They don’t like drunks at the base.‘ He’s more talking to her than to Steve. He knows the only convincing Steve needs is her convincing. His won’t work. He’s already overused that today.

Before Steve can say anything, Bucky is out of the car. He salutes Steve and Y/N and head in the general direction of the base. Speechless, Steve gets out of the car and follows Y/N inside.

She sits him down on the couch and curls up on the other side, both of them holding a cup of tea. She seems much shyer than before, but a good kind of shy.

‘Tell me if I’m going to fast,‘ she mumbles, ‘but I’ve never met a man quite like you and I’m sure my momma would tell me to keep you as close as I possibly can.‘

‘That’s a big compliment. Thank you,‘ he smiles shyly. She puts her cup of tea on the coffee table and moves towards him on the couch.

‘Can I kiss you again?‘

*Doll dizzy: A boy who’s crazy about girls. **Ragging: Making fun of, nagging. ***In the sticks: Undesirable location.

A white Jasmine stands for sweet love.

#steve rogers x reader #captain america x reader #captain america #captain america fanfic #steve rogers #steve rogers fanfic #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #marvel #steve x reader #cap x reader

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honey-dewey · 3 years

Text

Somewhere That’s Green

Pairing: Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels/Reader

Word Count: 3,220

Warnings: None

Jack’s always known his girlfriend was big in musical theater. He’s heard her practice, listened to her sing, and driven her to the theater more than once. But this is his first show of hers, and boy is he in for a shock. Between the on-stage kissing and the death of his girlfriend’s character, Jack Daniels has never been so invested in musical theater.

“And you’re sure you’re okay with missing work?” You asked, picking up your coat from Jack’s coat hook. “It’s a long show.”

Jack smiled, grabbing your waist and pulling you close to him. “Darlin’ I wouldn’t miss this show for anything. I’ve been waiting two months to see this play.”

You grinned, kissing him slowly, almost teasing. “Just promise not to murder my costars, okay?”

“And just why would I be murdering your coworkers?” Jack asked, keeping his arm around your waist as he walked you out to the parking lot.

Stepping into the parking lot and following the familiar trail to Jack’s car, you took a breath. “The show gets kinda dark. My character is abused by her sadistic boyfriend.”

“Oh.” You could hear Jack’s jaw tightening, hesitation filling your chest as you thought over inviting him to the show. Again.

“Babe,” you said softly, trying to console him. “If you want, I can introduce you to my co-star Alex who plays the character. He’s a sweetheart, I promise. Wouldn’t hurt a fly and y’know how Stevie is my best friend? Well, Alex is like the cool big brother I never had. He’d never even think about touching me. And he knows I’m totally off limits. Stevie does too.”

“Stevie’s the one who’s playing your nice fictional boyfriend?” Jack asked, opening the Bronco’s door and helping you up.

You laughed. “Yes. Stevie is the one who gets to kiss me on stage and his character isn’t a huge dick. Alex is my first fictional boyfriend, and Stevie and I get together halfway through the show. He gets to kiss me.”

Jack’s eyes darkened behind his sunglasses. “Does Alex kiss you?”

Reaching across the center console, you took Jack’s hand. “No. Alex does not get to kiss me.”

As Jack drove to the theater, you mulled over this decision. Since dating Jack, you’d done three musicals, but this one was your biggest and proudest role, as you’d finally managed to get the female lead in a musical after countless ensemble roles and smaller name characters.

“And what’s the show called again?” Jack asked, squeezing your hand.

You smiled, lifting his hand and pressing lazy kisses into his knuckles. “Little Shop of Horrors.”

Jack hummed, his face scrunching as he thought. “Ain’t that that movie with the crazed talking plant?”

“It was adapted from a musical,” you explained. “And then they redid the movie in the early 2000’s and put it back on Broadway.”

“Ah.” Jack turned to look at you as you pulled up to a red light. “I’m sure you’ll kill it. You got the voice of an angel.”

You smiled to yourself, the fate of your character entirely unknown to Jack. “I know I’ll kill it.”

Upon reaching the theater, you hopped out of the Bronco, looking at Jack. “Wanna meet Alex and Stevie? I think Yvette and Eva are here too, and I know for a fact Amber’s been here for an hour, at least.”

Jack shrugged. “Why not. I’ll go park, you go get your friends.”

You eagerly headed into the theater, practically jogging around as you looked for your costars.

“Eva!” You shouted happily, hugging Eva and seeing Amber around the corner. “Is Yvette here?”

“Nah,” Eva said, gesturing to the empty dressing room she shared with Yvette and Amber. “You know she always gets here at the last damn minute.”

“And she’s somehow always ready to go first,” Stevie said behind you, causing you to laugh and spin around to hug him. “Heya Auds!” He used the nickname he’d given you based on your character, causing you to punch him lightly.

“I want y’all to meet someone,” you said, walking towards the entrance, where you knew Jack was waiting. “Jack’s finally coming to see the show.”

“Ooooo,” Amber said, coming out of the costume closet. “We finally get to meet the mystery man!”

You waved them off, looking around for your final costar. “Where’s Alex? He didn’t call in tonight, did he?”

“Of course not,” Eva scoffed, drawing her coat closer around her. “He doesn’t call in unless he’s like, bleeding out.”

Laughing, you pushed open the door, seeing Jack leaning against the Bronco. “Jack!”

Jack drew closer, smiling and looking at your friends. “Alright. Who’s who?”

You introduced everyone, the chatter flowing easily until someone came up behind you, lifting you off your feet with a happy growl. “There’s my girl!”

“Alex!” You squealed, squirming and laughing. “Alex you absolute fuck! Put me down before Jack murders you!”

Alex put you down, grinning and holding out a hand to a very shocked Jack. “So you’re the mystery man our darling has been swooning over for the past three years. Nice to meet you.”

Jack shook his hand. “Their darling?” He asked you as you stood by his side.

“That’s what they always call the female lead,” you explained, tucking yourself under Jack’s arm. “Alex, Jack has promised not to kill you upon seeing the show, which is a damn relief because I don’t think we can do next year’s show without you.”

“What’s next year's show?” Jack asked, looking at you.

You shrugged. “I heard from the director that they were seriously considering School of Rock.”

Alex whistled. “Auds, that’s been a rumor for years now. They aren’t gonna do it.”

“Okay Dewey,” you said jokingly, reaching out to give Alex a light punch. “You wanna talk about people who were born to play certain roles? Alex is a spitting image of Broadway’s Dewey Finn,” you explained to Jack, who had gotten very lost very fast. “We’re all just waiting.”

“Oh, so you wanna talk about that, huh?” Stevie said, raising an eyebrow. “I swear that voice of yours is identical to Audrey’s.”

You flushed, checking your watch and looking up. “An hour,” you explained, extracting yourself from under Jack’s arm and heading back to the theater’s entrance. “I’ll see you after babe!”

Jack grabbed your hand, kissing you deeply and nipping ever so slightly at your earlobe as he murmured a teasing “break a leg darling,” into your ear.

“I like him,” Alex said, coming up behind you and smiling. “He’s good for you.”

You rolled your eyes, grabbing Alex’s white jacket out of the costume closet and handing it to him. “Go get dressed, dork. We can talk about my boyfriend later.”

Alex shrugged. “Just saying. You have my blessing.”

“I don’t need your blessing!” You called after him, seeing him disappear into his dressing room. “And where’s Jake?”

“Where he always is!”

You sighed, heading to your own dressing room and sitting down, beginning the long yet calming process of caking your face in stage makeup. It took forever and made your face feel heavy, but the results were worth it.

Eventually, by the half hour call, you were ready, having pretty much cemented your hair into beautifully picturesque curls and shimmied into the tight cheetah print dress that barely covered the tops of your thighs. Thank god you were able to wear tights.

You tossed a fluffy cream colored faux fur cropped jacket overtop your dress and adjusted your black heels. With your makeup and your sufficiently warmed up voice, you were entirely ready for the night.

Picking up a picture frame, you gave the glossy photo of Jack a kiss, slipping a worn out penny he’d given you when he’d first heard you did theater into your bra. It was a symbol of luck, and the magic would hopefully continue into tonight.

“Knock knock,” Alex said, knocking on your doorframe. “How’s the princess?”

“Good,” you said, raising your voice to get the perfect breathy innocence that was needed for the role. “How much time?”

Alex checked his watch. “Ten. I think the girls are on stage already, and Jake’s having his fun on the beams. Are you sure you’re ready?”

“Just nervous,” you mumbled, fiddling with the sleeve of your jacket. “I dunno what Jack’ll think.”

“Does he know the ending?”

“No.”

Alex whistled in a breath. “Damn. Ten bucks says he cries.”

You scoffed, slipping past Alex and smiling, your heels clicking on the worn out flooring. “Twenty!”

The opening of the show, as was the rest of it by now, was a familiar chaos to you. The fanfare that signaled the beginning spurred you and Alex to your places, tucked just outside of view but still able to see the show.

The ensemble and the girls rushed past, filling the stage and giving life to the purposefully worn down set. You craned yourself neck, heart swelling when you saw Jack, his hat off, sitting in the front row.

“Front row, fifth seat in, stage left,” you whispered to Alex, who nodded, spotting your boyfriend as well.

Stevie joined you at that moment, grinning as Alex told him where Jack was sitting. “He got a good seat, huh?” He said with a wink, sliding past you to take his place on stage.

As the second song started up, you adjusted yourself, tugging on your dress and asking Alex for help with your mic.

“Break a leg,” he said, watching you rush behind the set to the section that was your fake apartment.

At the cue, you opened the door, slipping out and beginning to sing. It was easy to lose yourself in the role now that everyone else was singing too. Stevie came out, singing his part as you sat weaved in and out of the ensemble members, climbing up a ladder to a fire escape on one of the building fronts. Leaning on the railing, you sang along with Stevie, spotting Jack beyond the stage lights and grinning as you finished out the song.

The next four songs went smoothly. You left the stage after the next one, when Stevie got his first solo song. Standing next to Alex, you checked your phone.

Jack: You’re amazing doll. Love the dress.

You smiled, slipping your phone back into your pocket. Stevie was, as usual, doing great on stage. Everything was running perfectly.

While the songs you weren’t really in ran in the background, you helped prepare the other sets. The apartment set you were about to use was ready to go by the time your first big song was about to start, and you walked back out on stage, reciting lines you’d memorized months ago. As the set turned, revealing the inside of the apartment, you began to sing.

The song was a nice one. Maybe a bit of strain on your voice as you pitched it upwards, but otherwise easy to sing. You poured a certain mournfulness into it, taking your jacket off and hanging it on the coat hook.

Every so often, you’d see Jack out of the corner of your eye, grinning like a lovesick fool at you. When the stage rotated again, showing you leaning out the small balcony, singing about your character’s dreams for a brighter future, you watched Jack carefully. His eyes never left you, winking when he realized you were watching him.

The song ended, the audience clapping as you slipped out, grabbing your coat on the way.

One quick change and bit of makeup adjusting later, you were cycling through another song. Nerves began to bundle in your stomach as the introduction of Alex’s character drew closer. You always drew a few gasps when he roughed you up, but it never made you this nervous.

Thankfully, it was a short scene, as the focus shifted to the introduction. His touch was always professional and careful, never actually harming you. You slipped off stage as his character began his song, settling down on a beat up old couch and loosening your shoes. You didn’t have to be on stage for a while, so you half listened to Alex and half focused on checking your phone. No texts from Jack.

“Hey hon.” Alex flopped onto the couch next to you, shocking you a bit. “C’mon.”

You quickly tighten your shoes, standing and taking Alex’s hand as he tugged you towards the stage for another small scene that you knew would make Jack’s jaw clench.

The scene was, yet again, not harmful. You moved in perfect tandem with Alex so neither of you got hurt, stumbling a bit as you walked off stage after only two minutes.

“You okay?” Alex asked, steadying you and checking your wrists where he’d grabbed you.

“Yep.”

“Everything good up in here?” He asked, knocking gently on your temple.

You smiled. “Haven’t been this nervous about a show in, gosh I don’t even know.”

“You’re doing amazing,” Alex promised, pulling you into a hug. “I’m sure he’d love it even if it all went to shit.”

You nodded, tightly hugging Alex back. “Yeah. He would.”

You two got ready for your final scene together, the one where he ‘hit’ you. The slap had been practiced until it was instinct, until it was a guarantee Alex’s hand would never even touch your face.

Watching the stage and slowly moving behind the set pieces, you bopped a bit to the song, looking up and seeing Jake having the absolute time of his life above your head, singing for the plant.

“Ready?” Alex asked, squeezing your hand.

You nodded, hearing the cue and starting your nervous babbling conversation with a shouting Alex, stumbling through the door and smiling at Stevie. “Hey Seymour! I left my sweater here before.”

Immediately, Alex followed you, still shouting. You couldn’t see Jack’s reaction when he called you a slut, or when he slapped you, your pitiful voice breaking as you and Alex headed off stage.

As soon as you were out of sight, Alex hugged you, murmuring the apology he always gave after that scene and heading off to act his death.

It was a favorite scene of yours, and you watched as Alex ‘died,’ unable to leave the scene until the lights went dark and he hurried off, Stevie taking a bag of fake limbs and grinning to you as the lights rose and he headed back out.

During intermission, you left the couch, allowing the girls to collapse into the frankly disgusting crease. Instead, you curled up in the oddest place that shouldn’t have been comfortable, the antique dentist’s chair from Alex’s scenes.

Which was where he found you, settled into the leather and adjusting your makeup. You were humming along to some music playing out your phone, carefully wiping away your black eye and touching up your foundation. “Good job. You absolutely murdered it.”

Alex smiled. “Thank you. Still nervous?”

“Nah.” You closed your makeup bag, spinning the chair lazily. “No more than usual now.”

You two just hung out, as usual, until the signaling music began to play. You shook yourself out, standing and smiling. “Halfway there!”

Alex laughed and took your place, grabbing a book.

You were significantly more involved in the second act, breezing through the first few songs, feeling an uncomfortable tingle of guilt in your stomach as you and Stevie kissed during the second song. It was an emotional scene that was immediately followed up by a murder. Not your murder. You weren’t set to die until later.

Of course, your next big scene was your death. You ran over the process in your head, just in case. Stevie would throw you into the giant plant puppet, and you’d slide past Jordan, who was the puppeteer inside, and out through a hole so you didn’t have to sit inside the cramped puppet.

However, you had to die first in probably the most heart wrenching scene in the play.

You walked out as Stevie walked in, alone on the stage aside from the plant. Sitting on the couch in your fake apartment, you began to sing, wandering over to the florist’s shop set and talking to Jake, who was still sitting above your head.

And then it all went to shit.

Jordan, inside the puppet, grabbed you with a vine, tugging you close as the song finished out, and you fake struggled as he pretended to eat you, the voice and the body working in perfect tandem as you got deep enough and struggled enough to open a buttoned up tear in your dress, smearing fake blood all over and making it truly seem like you’d been bitten, all without the audience knowing.

Stevie pulled you out, revealing the wound to the audience. He carefully set you down, going through the musical motions as you poured everything you had left into your final few minutes on stage. Your voice broke, the gentleness fading slowly as you did your best to imitate someone who was dying, actually starting to cry with your last line.

When the music swelled, Stevie wiped your tears and lifted you, slowly and gently placing you in the plant puppet and allowing Jordan to grab you and pull you in, helping you down and out the other side. Immediately, Alex helped you up, handing you a change of clothes and a pack of wet wipes. It was easy to remove the blood and toss the stained dress into the wash as soon as it was off. By the time the last plot important song was over, you were completely ready for the finale.

You were unable to spot Jack as you and Alex walked out together, singing one final time for the night and taking your bows. It was a giant group number, everyone happy and very much not dead. Jake came down, singing and throwing an arm over you and over Stevie, dragging you two forward to take the first bow.

Amidst the clapping and the people leaving and the actors heading off stage, you didn’t see Jack until he met you and Alex at the Bronco.

He scooped you up, laughing and firmly kissing you. “Holy shit babe! You couldn’t’ve told me that would happen at the end?”

You laughed, wiping tears off Jack’s face. “Alex! He’s crying!”

“Well fuck.” Alex leaned against the car, smiling. “Guess I owe you.”

Jack put you down, still holding you tight. “Y’all did good. I almost got up to smack you halfway through the show.”

You rolled your eyes, squeezing Jack’s hand. “I’m exhausted.”

“Alright,” Jack said, opening the Bronco’s door and helping you up. “Pleasure to meet you Alex.”

“Same,” Alex said, stepping back. “You be good to our girl, you hear?”

Jack snorted. “I will.”

The drive home was quiet. Now that the adrenaline of the show was gone, you felt limp, every part of your body in pain. Jack, the ever sweet and loving boyfriend, carried you inside, setting you down on the bathroom counter and grabbing your makeup wipes for you.

“Anything else?” He asked once you were done, cuddled up in your favorite pyjamas.

“Well,” you hummed, getting down and heading over to the bed. “I seem to be missing my boyfriend. C’mere.”

Jack, now eager, took his shirt off and crawled into the bed next to you, pulling you close. “You were amazing tonight, truly.”

“Thank you,” you murmured, already falling asleep.

“You’re welcome.” Jack shuffled so you’d be more comfortable, stroking softly up and down your back as you fell asleep properly, safe with the knowledge that Jack’s first musical theater experience had been a good one.

#kingsman the golden circle #kingsman #agent whiskey #jack 'whiskey' daniels #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey x you #Pedro Pascal #My writing

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fancifulcherries · 2 years

Text

hello, it’s me. i come bearing a quick little snippet that’s set in the universe for an upcoming story, feast of stars.

taglist (please ask or dm me to be + / - ): @absolute-nonsense-scribblings

read on ao3

The theater is packed; audience members clamor in their seats of crushed blue velvet — they’re all eager to watch this next silent story unfold on stage through means of pointed slippers stepping daintily in circles. Ivarra sits in the front row, one gloved hand clutching her optic lenses to her chest. Securing a spot for this performance was a daunting task, by the time she’d gotten here she felt hollowed by trepidation.

She’d dressed herself as best as she could in the plain clothes she wore, her short and choppy-cut white hair hanging starkly bold over the faded gray coat she’s starting to unbutton now that she’s settled into the theater’s warmth. Here in the theater they’re unshackled from outside’s political turmoil, and all of them can gaze in silent awe at the dancers on the stage.

Then comes her star — her Pleione — the most graceful of them all. Beautiful, beautiful Pleione with all the delicateness of a small bird dancing in her costume that sparkles like a star-spattered sky. Perhaps if magic were intrinsic to miracles, Pleione might regain her memories on stage and look back to Ivarra and they would both know. But Ivarra knows better.

“Dear,” says the old woman next to her, “You’re crying. Is everything alright?”

I knew that girl. I loved her once, but now I can’t be with her because she doesn’t remember me and because it’s too dangerous. She draws a shaky breath before responding.

“Oh, it’s just such a terribly moving performance, wouldn’t you agree?”

✦✧✦✧

Ariadne dances on the stage because it’s the only sanctuary she has left.

She doesn’t know why she dances, she is only aware of the fact that she must. Here on the stage and back in the studio is practically paradise compared to the gnawing of amnesia — acute memories that should sting with sadness but simply don’t trickle into her mind with no rhyme or reason. But dancing for the crowd who adores her she can just be a wind-up doll in this synchronized story.

She feels radiant as a star with her dark hair bound away from her face and in her costume studded with jewelry. As she raises her arms above her head in one delicate motion she looks at a girl with white hair looking tearfully at her from the crowd. Ariadne acknowledges her with a nod.

That’s the girl from before, right? Even though you can’t remember everything from before.

This should signify nothing. Coincidences pile upon one another all the time, this is no different. This girl is just one among many who bear witness to her dancing.

Why, then, does her heart feel like it might tear in two?

#writing #writeblr #amwriting #my writing #original #original writing #writers on tumblr

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tornrose24 · 3 years

Text

Thoughts on Cinema Sins ‘Everything wrong with Phantom of the Opera’ video.

Well at least ONE of the movies I was hoping Cinema Sins would cover happened. Some sins were expected, but I wasn’t expecting that the CS guy apparently saw the musical and has some knowledge about the history of PotO in general.

-”Several people died.” No not really unless not everyone got out of the burning opera house.

-Knew he’d make a Minions joke the second ‘illumination’ was mentioned.

-Aww, no sins off for the use of the Overture music? And its from the 80’s so of course it would sound the way it does.

-Ok, I admit showing the seats losing their dust and becoming brand new again as a ‘what if’ for movie theaters when quarantine was over was amusing.

-There’s a difference between good opera singing and annoying opera singing, which is why the ladies didn’t care for Carlotta’s singing.

-I wonder what a Silence of the Lambs opera would be like, speaking of CS getting his Hannibals mixed up.

-Raoul and Christine are supposed to be around the same age, so the fact that Patrick Wilson was like 13 years older than Emmy does make the ‘childhood sweethearts’ thing strange.

-Oh great, now CS made 2004!Raoul and Christine’s age gap as problematic as with her and Erik’s by pointing that out.

-Minnie Driver is a great Carlotta AND was a memorable part of this film.

-Oh Christ, 200,000 francs equals almost a million bucks in today’s world? Isn’t that a little too much to demand, Erik?

-Yeah Emmy doesn’t exactly HAVE the right voice for Christine when you compare her to other stage Christines (but at least she doesn’t have a weird vibrato like a certain someone).

-Christine doesn’t strike me as a super social person, and her father was a supporter of her musical talents so it makes sense that she wouldn’t be amongst her new fans and pay a visit to the chapel.

-I wonder if Ramin (aka one of the best Phantoms) found out that he was compared to Harry Styles in this video.

-Christine was supposed to keep her lessons a secret, so it makes sense that she’d confide in Meg after that.

-CS points out the unfortunate implications of Christine being a child when she was approached by Erik in this adaptation and I’m pretty sure CS is going to utterly destroy Webber for this someday.

-Actually yeah-where the hell did everyone go when there was so many people outside Christine’s dressing room a few moments ago?

-I do appreciate CS calling out Giry for just letting the Phantom stalk Christine and not stopping it sooner. (And it does feel strange that she’d let the girl she considers a surrogate daughter go through this).

-”Psychedelically laced smoke.” Every fan thinks that too.

-Also, the mirror is a trick mirror. Kind of obvious later.

-Also he needed her to think he was a divine tutor and didn’t show up until Raoul came into the picture (and because he wanted to move on to actually facing her like a real person).

-Well the horse WAS in the book, but him being part of Christine’s ‘possible hallucination’ makes sense too. Also the idea of her ridding the Phantom is amusing.

-No that WASN’T the sewers they were going through–the opera house literally had an underground lake and there’s a history behind it since the opera house this story is based on is real.

-Erik building the statues makes more sense to me since the guy is meant to be hyper talented.Also note that this is where you can especially tell CS had experience with die hard fans of the book since he refers to the Phantom by his actual name for this sin in addition to saying WHAT they told him specifically.

-Actually CS has a good point about how the final note of the title song is shown off. They should draw more attention to Christine singing that note since its not only a display of her talent but a show of just how much influence/power Erik has over that. Instead we don’t see Emmy singing (and as anyone will tell you, she sang it as an E flat and not an actual E note).

-Yeah that scarf mask is weird.

-The smoke eye has been a mystery for AGES CS and no one can answer why.

-Love the description of singing “Music of the night” as to treat it like going to a glorious destination.

-Thanks for reminding me why the casting choices and changed up backstory makes 2004!Erik worse than he needs to be (God... what the hell were you thinking ALW and JS?!)

-If CS is familiar with the musical, I wonder if he’s aware that 2004!Erik was many a teenage girls’ crush with that in mind.

-Ah the return of the original ‘creepy doll that looks like a character’ that I almost forgot about. Except CS makes it more creepier by pointing out something about it that makes 2004!Erik more creepier than he needs to.

-CS keeps referring to actors by whatever they were in/a character they also played. And I’m just reminded how strange it was to see Emmy in Shameless (and she’s not enough to make me want to watch that show).

-CS forgot that the managers were supposed to be ass-kissing when he wondered why they were in the dressing room.

-If I remember correctly, a company performs one opera production at night and then practices/rehearses for the next one during the day. The one they perform happens for a certain amount of time before its time to switch out. But yeah, the film makes it look like this is all happening in 24 hours which shouldn’t be possible.

-Nothing for that guy mooning Carlotta? Ok then, moving on I suppose.

-I’ve seen this movie hundreds of times and I NEVER saw the boat in the woman’s wig until it was pointed out.

-Was he not paying attention? Erik kills Bouquet because the guy was trying to go after him. The original reason why he died in the book was for the same reason.

-I’m glad that CS has sympathy for Christine for all she went though in a supposed 24 hours. I’d crack under all that too.

-Surprised he didn’t sin the snot shot on the roof. (You know what I’m talking about).

-Yeah, so much for a secret engagement if you got the ring exposed.

-Not sure why CS finds the gold guys funny other than they are ‘just there.’

-I would love to see the party-goers go after Erik since they DO outnumber him as an alternate scene during that moment after ‘Masquerade.’

-No ‘This is Sparta’ jokes? Ok then, moving on I suppose.

-Christine’s dad is implied to be famous in this movie (explaining the mausoleum, but in the book he was poor so he shouldn’t have one). But that does raise questions as to why Christine seemingly has little money to her name in this version.

-Dude, seeing the gave fight scene as Nite Owl vs. Leonidas was something I couldn’t unsee for more than 10 years. But I bet the Snyder fans loved that joke. (Speaking of CS and superhero films WHEN WILL YOU STOP TEASING ME WITH ‘ANIMATED SUPERHERO FILMS’ THAT ARE JUST ANIMATED DC FILMS AND SHOW ME THE ONE I ACTUALLY WANT TO SEE?!)

-I would love to see a Home Alone version of PotO since CS pointed it out.

-Actually I would love to see the au where CS is a critic in the PotO world and just not give a shit if Erik threatened him.

-Yeah, Raoul making Christine the bait and endangering her IS messed up. As much of a dolt he is, novel!Raoul would NEVER have done that to her.

-Erik’s hair looks nice because its a wig, CS.

-Oh boy, the reveal of the bad make up. No surprise it got a sin. I loved that CS showed Lon Chaney’s version (and hopefully will get people to watch the original silent PotO) and was more impressed by it over what this movie had. I also love how blunt CS is in summing up the deformity.

-There wasn’t a fire when the mob went after the Phantom in the musical. But as history can prove, some mobs care more about their goals than their own safety.

-I think they wanted to squeeze in one more trap before the final confrontation and Raoul WAS trapped in a room that became filled with water in the book and silent film. Though I’m amazed CS didn’t notice the reverse direction the bubbles were going during that scene.

-I don’t know how to answer why Christine was just standing around and doing jack shit to help Raoul during the final confrontation.

-A recreation of one of the most famous kiss scenes in musical history and CS just sums it up as ‘yeah your first kiss always sucks.’

-I love the contrast of Super Mario music with shots of PotO for the bonus round.

-Holy crap, that WAS a lot of candles.

-Some of the alternate audios for the last bit were unfamiliar but that Bug’s Life scene for when Christine is heading towards the mirror is perfection.

-And of COURSE CS would use that one Mission Impossible scene.

Final verdict: Predictable at times, but pretty amusing for a PotO fan like myself. I do hope the next movie musical CS covers is ‘Little Shop of Horrors.’

#phantom of the opera #the phantom of the opera #cinema sins

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no6secretsanta · 3 years

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From @pigeonsimba to @crowmunculus

The winter chill bites into Nezumi’s skin, tugging his hood back with icy fingers and nipping at his nose and ears until his whole head aches.

Well, aches more, as Nezumi already has a tension headache from clenching his teeth all throughout play practice. Why is it so hard for them to get it?

He knows No. 6 has never been a hub for the arts—that, in fact, until eight years ago, the arts and any other form of self-expression was illegal—but since the wall was torn down and the citizens of No. 6 and West Block were encouraged to mingle, Nezumi would have thought at least some talent might have managed to slip through.

But no. The whole group is a pile of steaming shit.

Nezumi has been working with the troupe for a little over half a year, and they are still as miserable as when he first stepped through the door and ripped their run-through of Into the Woods to shreds. He barely managed to whip them into shape before showtime, and he only deigned to intercede because he could not bear to see a musical butchered so thoroughly in front of a live audience. The end result was passable, but apparently so improved from the group’s prior performances that the actors begged Nezumi to stay on as their director.

Nezumi had been steadfastly against it, but Shion insinuated it might be good for him, and Karan started making obvious comments about how great Nezumi was at theater, and finally Inukashi cracked and told him to fucking agree to the job already so he could stop mooching off of Karan’s goodwill.

Nezumi viciously regrets letting himself be bullied into taking the position. The worst of the volunteers act with all the charisma of wooden dolls; the best are sycophantic hams who howl their lines into the audience and throw themselves upon the stage props like “drama” means “dramatics.” Nezumi wants to cull the whole theater, but he’s already invested so much time into it that he’s loath to start over with a fresh crop of amateurs.

It seems No. 6 will always be a seat of disappointment and frustration for him, no matter how nicely the city functioned now under the Restructural Committee. It’s nights like this when Nezumi wishes he was still on the road.

When he was traveling the world with nothing but the clothes on his back and his knife at his hip, he only had nature and his thoughts to contend with. The land never disappointed him the way people did; though it tested him almost as much.

He had staggered, starving, over endless yellowing plains; been bitten and stung by animals and insects he hadn’t known the names of; his skin had blistered from trekking over golden hills of sand under the relentless sun; he had hallucinated from hypothermia and nearly died in the mountains outside No. 4.

But Nezumi had always been a survivor, and for every time he skirted death, he gained a little more appreciation for the world around him. It had power he could never wield, power the human race would never possess nor fully understand. Elyurias had shown him his first taste of the wonder of the unknown, however bitter that lesson had been.

Alone in the wilderness, there is no one to blame but yourself if things go wrong. The elements are punishing, but they are impartial. The sun doesn’t burn him to show its might; the rivers’ currents don’t snatch at his ankles to bring him to his knees; the trees don’t shed their leaves to rob him of shelter and food. The elements don’t care whether he lived or died. Nezumi means nothing to them and they have nothing to prove.

Nezumi had traveled the world for seven years, and even though he knew there was more to see, there had come a morning when he woke and the stillness in his chest said that it was enough; it was time to make good on his promise and attempt to put down roots.

So far, Nezumi has done well to keep the wanderlust to a low murmur in his chest, but sometimes, the roots still feel like choking tethers. He misses the days when he only had himself to rely on, the freedom of knowing that if someone’s company no longer suited him, or a job grew stagnant, he could simply pick up and move on.

Nezumi’s pocket vibrates and the reverie slips away in an exasperated cloud of breath when he checks his phone’s lit-up screen. It’s Midori, the most veteran actor in the troupe and resident thorn in Nezumi’s side. The woman is a prima donna in every sense of the word, but that’s not why she’s on Nezumi’s shit list: prima donnas he could deal with, but Midori is a frustrating mix of loudly entitled and deeply self-conscious. She demands starring roles, only to repeatedly ask for praise and reassurance of her abilities.

He presses the silence button and stuffs the phone back in his pocket. He’s already late and he’s almost to Shion’s house, and he doesn’t want to exacerbate his headache or Midori’s fragile self-worth by spitting venom into a receiver.

Yet another thing to miss about wandering through the wilderness: no phones. Every mile walked in blessed silence.

Nezumi mounts the stairs to Shion’s apartment and fumbles to pull the spare key Shion gave him out of his pocket and shove it into the lock. The brass door knob is so cold the metal burns in his hand as he turns it and slips inside.

Only the lamp beside the couch is on, but the apartment is small enough that the soft light is enough to illuminate the whole space. The front door opens onto a neat little kitchen, and beyond that is the living room, outfitted with a small dining table, an armchair, and a couch and coffee table. Two long bookcases span the length of the back wall, their shelves and tops stacked with novels half pilfered from the underground room and half collected by Shion over the years. The heaps atop the bookcases are high enough that they block the windows behind, so in the afternoons, the sunlight has to steal through the crevices of the towers like a thief, painting irregular patterns on the laminate floors and over the thick-fibered rug that lays beneath the coffee table. The bedroom and bathroom lay off to the right, completing the tour of Shion’s humble abode.

It’s odd to enter the house and realize that it’s Shion’s home. It’s a far step up from the underground room, and certainly much nicer than any of the places Nezumi has lived in since.

Nezumi makes a cursory glance around the quiet living space, but he doesn’t see Shion. He frowns and checks his phone for missed texts or calls, but there’s only the ones from Midori.

Maybe he stepped out? Nezumi is more than a half an hour late, after all, but it would be very out of character for Shion to walk out when he is expecting guests.

The bedroom door is shut and silent, and Nezumi wonders whether Shion is changing. Or possibly he’s asleep, Nezumi considers drily. It wouldn’t be the first time Shion invited him over, only to pass out in the middle of the visit.

Well, if Shion did forget he invited Nezumi over, or accidently fell asleep in his room, Nezumi isn’t going to just turn around and return to his room at Karan’s bakery. It’s too freaking cold out and his stomach is growling like a wild animal, so Nezumi removes his shoes and pads into the kitchen in search of something small and quiet to eat.

A snatch of deep blue fabric catches his eye as he moves toward the cabinet to grab a bowl: a tie thrown over the back of the dining room table chair. Shion’s leather briefcase lays splayed over the table, its papers peeking out of the lip where the buckle isn’t fastened properly.

The corner of Nezumi’s mouth quirks up. He had always thought of Shion as a neat person—after all, Shion threw a fit about the state of the underground room and systematically organized the whole space, and only a neat freak would do something so pointless when they knew full well Nezumi was just going to come back and muck it up again. But after returning to No. 6 and reacquainting himself with Shion, Nezumi discovered that Shion isn’t quite as uptight as he thought.

Shion is by no means untidy, but he has habitual ways of making messes: clothes strewn over his bed, cartons left on countertops, reading glasses and mugs and paperwork abandoned on the coffee table for days before Shion remembers to put them away.

Maybe Shion had been more Type A when he was sixteen, and his time working in the real world has forced him to bend in the interest of saving time, but Nezumi has a different theory: Shion had been on his best behavior in the underground room because he had always thought of it as Nezumi’s home and himself a guest staying there.

Nezumi knows he hadn’t been an easy person to live with, and he can’t say with certainty that if Shion had left messes around the underground room that he wouldn’t have used them as ammunition to threaten and criticize Shion when he felt they were getting too close.

Nezumi presses his lips together as every slight, and scowl, and unkindness he’d shown Shion when they were kids flits through his memory. No, he hadn’t been the easiest person to live with, and despite Shion’s constant probing and declarations of affection, there had always been a wall between them—mostly of Nezumi’s making, but at least part of the distance between them came from Shion’s stubborn misjudgments of his character.

Neither of them understood themselves well then, and that had made it impossible for them to understand each other.

But that was the past, and Nezumi has learned not to hold onto the things he can’t change. He and Shion aren’t the same people now, and they have agreed to start from scratch. Still, he can’t help the surprise he feels when Shion acts contrary to his perceptions, or the pangs of guilt when memories of his past conduct rise unbidden to his mind.

Nezumi peers over the countertop and finds Shion’s shiny dress shoes kicked off against the side of the heavy coffee table. A fogged-up plate cover rests atop the table, laid upon a dish towel to protect the lacquer, and Nezumi abandons foraging for a bowl to investigate. He spots a tuft of white against the dark gray of the couch and realizes that Shion is not sleeping in the bedroom after all.

The couch isn’t long enough for him to stretch out, so Shion is curled on his side in the fetal position, half of his face pressed so snugly into one of the throw pillows that Nezumi suspects he’ll have the lines and seams imprinted on his cheek when he wakes. The top few buttons of Shion’s shirt are undone, as are the buttons at his wrists, the sleeves rolled back to reveal the pale skin of his arms. Nezumi’s gaze traces the edges of the red scar wending its way around Shion’s neck, following its path until it slips beneath the collar of his shirt. He looks peaceful, and Nezumi feels some of the tension ebb out of his head and shoulders as he studies the sleeping man.

It’s odd to think of him—them—that way, as a “man.” On the road, Nezumi always remembered Shion as he had been: cute and heartbreakingly earnest, with his fluffy white hair, big brown eyes, and even bigger ideas. Nezumi had found him equal parts endearing and maddening. But the years have shaped Shion into a man of consequence and elegance.

When he walks into a room, the gravity shifts in his direction; Nezumi’s seen it on televised programs and in person. People are drawn to Shion like bees to a brilliant flower, and Nezumi has never seen someone who’s able to resist Shion’s easy charm; everyone caught in conversation with him leaves smiling and murmuring praises, no exceptions.

Nezumi always joked about Shion being royalty, but he never imagined Shion might actually become No. 6’s new era prince. Calling him Your Highness and Your Majesty seem less like teases now than his actual titles.

But Nezumi doesn’t call Shion those nicknames anymore. The first time he slipped into his old habit, Shion had given him such a look that Nezumi almost excused himself from Karan’s bakery and skipped town again. Apparently, being part of the Restructural Committee has made Shion painfully conscious of how tyrannical governments can be, and he will no longer tolerate Nezumi referring to him as No. 6’s ruler, even in jest.

That’s new: being deferential to Shion. Nezumi isn’t sure whether he’s so cautious because he’s changed enough that he cares about getting into—and staying in—Shion’s good graces, or if it’s that Shion has just become that much more intense.

Shion’s always been too much for him to handle: too warm, too stubborn, too bright, too naive. Too human. The winter they spent together in the underground room was the happiest and most terrifying winter of Nezumi’s life. West Block taught him never to get attached to anything, because he never knew when it would be snatched from him. Nezumi didn’t know how to throw Shion away, and he didn’t know how to keep him safe, so every moment they spent together was like slowly drowning.

The time away from each other has worked wonders on Nezumi’s emotional growth, and he had thought he was ready to come back and face Shion as equals, but Shion is still too much for him. The important difference between now and then, however, is that Nezumi doesn’t want to run from the challenge. He doesn’t need to fight to live anymore and Shion certainly doesn’t need his protection, so that leaves them free to be human together.

Only, Nezumi is still learning how to fully be himself in front of someone he actually wants to see every day. A transient life doesn’t give one much practice on building lasting relationships. But he’s working on it, and this new, grown-up Shion doesn’t seem to be in a rush to prise him apart.

A yellow sticky note is stuck to the top of the plate cover, and when Nezumi cranes his head to read the cramped script, a smile steals over his face. The note says, “Wake me up before you eat!” The words “wake me up” are darkened and underlined several times, a warning that this isn’t a request; it’s an order.

Nezumi has ignored Shion’s verbal instructions to wake him many times before, so he’s not sure why Shion thinks emphatic notes are going to have more weight. God knows Shion needs the sleep. He’s up at 5:00 a.m., works until the sun is far below the horizon, only to come home and continue working. If he passes out on the couch from exhaustion, Nezumi figures he shouldn’t mess with the natural order of things.

But, well… Shion did invite him over, and tonight Nezumi is feeling like a little company.

So, he muses to himself, how should I go about this?

One time, he woke Shion by dropping a stack of books on the table. He thought it would be funny to see him jump at the loud noise, but Shion screamed instead, scaring the shit out of them both. Shion was surly with him for the rest of the afternoon, but he paid Nezumi back the next morning by sneaking into his room at the bakery at the ass-crack of dawn and dumping an armful of paperbacks onto Nezumi’s head before he skipped off to work. That was some cold-served revenge Nezumi hadn’t expected and wouldn’t soon forget.

Tonight, Nezumi decides he’d rather wake Shion gently, so as to avoid any vengeful repercussions.

He reaches for Shion’s shoulder and gives him a light shake. A low groan of resistance rumbles in Shion’s throat and Nezumi gives him another nudge. “Shion. You asked for this, remember?”

Shion’s brow creases and he burrows his face deeper into the pillow, until all Nezumi can see is the mess of his sleep-mussed hair. Nezumi’s mouth twitches. Cute.

The mischievous part of his brain tells him to blow in Shion’s ear, but the rational side knows better. Nezumi slips his fingers into the soft strands of Shion’s hair and gives it a ruffle. It’s criminally soft and warm against his winter-chilled fingers.

“Wake up, Shion,” Nezumi whispers, combing the snowy locks behind his ear. “I’m hungry.”

Finally, Shion lifts his head and squints at him. “Mm. Hey. Did you just get here?” he manages, just before a huge yawn claims him.

Nezumi slides his fingers once more through Shion’s downy hair while he’s too sleepy to really notice, then folds his arms over his chest.

Shion sits up and stretches his legs out in front of him, bumping his feet against the base of the coffee table. “How was work?”

Nezumi screws his mouth to the side, but his headache has dissipated and he can’t drum up the level of annoyance he felt on the walk over, so he answers with a blasé, “Fine. Everyone still sucks.”

Shion flashes him a quick, sleepy smile and nods at the table. “I made dinner.”

Nezumi plucks the fogged-up plate cover off the dish and discovers dinner is chili. “Finally got around to using that crockpot, huh?”

“It was really easy to make. You just throw the ingredients in there and time does the rest.”

“Mhm…. You know you’re supposed to refrigerate this, or keep it in the pot until it’s ready to be served?”

Shion shrugs. “It hasn’t been out that long.”

“It’s gone cold. How long have you been sleeping on the couch? Do you even know what time it is?” Nezumi glances over at the microwave clock.

Shion slants a look at him. “Time to stop being mean to me. I just woke up from a nap, and you know how I get when I’m woken up from a nap.”

Nezumi feigns a cringe. “Yes. All too well.” He takes the bowl and crosses the room to pop it in the microwave.

When he turns back around, he finds Shion tidying the living room, heaping the dish towel, the plate cover, and his fancy work shoes into his arms before moving to the kitchen table for his tie and bag. He still looks half asleep. Nezumi leans back against the counter and watches Shion stumble around in the half light, his hands full of his mess.

For all that Shion has grown, he’s still very much the boy Nezumi remembers: soft and effortless and searching. Teenaged Nezumi had been a fortress, but Shion’s goodness always fleet-footed its way up the ramparts.

Shion’s quiet tenacity used to scare him. Now it feels like a blessing that someone cares enough to try to breach his walls. If Nezumi hadn’t had the memories of Shion’s warmth through the lonely nights of travel, he wasn’t sure what paths he would have taken, or if the journey would ever have led him back to No. 6.

Shion catches him staring and pauses on the other side of the island counter. “Why are you laughing at me?”

“I haven’t made a sound.”

“Your eyes are laughing at me.”

Nezumi snorts. “My, we really are in a bad mood, aren’t we?”

Shion’s shoulders drop and he sighs. “Yeah, sorry. Today was…long.” He shifts the heap he has collected in his arms and turns to the dining table, weighing his chances of success should he try to add the paper-laden briefcase to his horde.

“You should go to bed,” Nezumi says. “You look one object away from crumpling to the floor. I’ll clean up and leave once I’m done with eating.”

“No, I want to have dinner with you tonight. That’s why I invited you over. I just…” Shion hums in thought, still sizing up the briefcase. He clicks his tongue. “Oh, never mind. I give up,” Shion huffs, and dumps the collection in his arms onto the far end of the table to be fussed over at a time when he has more brain power to deal with it.

Nezumi chuckles, and turns to the beeping microwave to retrieve his food.

Shion settles himself in his designated chair, and Nezumi takes up the seat across from him.

“Where’s your bowl?” Nezumi asks. “You said you wanted to eat dinner with me.”

“Hm? Oh…” Shion colors slightly. “Right, well… I was hungry when I got home, and it was a while before you were supposed to come over, so I already ate.”

Nezumi raises an eyebrow. “And you were asleep before I even got here. I wonder why I came over at all. These are not the actions of a host looking forward to his guest.”

“I was looking forward to you coming over,” Shion insists. “I would have called you to cancel, if I wasn’t. And falling asleep was not on purpose.”

“It was on purpose enough that you had the forethought to leave a note to wake you up.”

Shion has no defense for that, apparently, and drops his gaze to the steam rising from the chili bowl. Nezumi bites down on a smile.

“I can make a small bowl for myself, if you want to eat together,” Shion offers, but Nezumi waves him off.

“Just keep me company and I’ll consider you forgiven.”

The chili is delicious, the perfect balance of spices and liquid consistency. But then, it’s Karan’s recipe, so of course it’s perfect.

When Nezumi first arrived in No. 6, he stayed in a room on the cusp between what used to be West Block territory and Lost Town. He remained there, alone, for a week, fussing over when and where and how he would announce to Shion he was back. He finally resolved upon visiting Karan first, since she was the mini boss in this situation.

Karan hugged him before he even finished reintroducing himself, and things snowballed from there. A month later, Nezumi found himself moved into Shion’s old room in the Lost Town bakery and having family dinners with Karan, Shion, Inukashi, baby Shionn, and occasionally Rikiga. The warm family atmosphere is at once disorienting, uncomfortable, and deeply satisfying. Being part of a greater whole appeals to a part of himself that Nezumi hadn’t even realized he had been missing.

The biggest perk of living with Karan, however, is that Nezumi has his pick of the most delicious foods and pastries imaginable. Nezumi has experienced some extremely novel, odd, and mouth-watering cuisines while traveling abroad, but Karan’s cooking could compete with the best of them. She makes simple things, comfort food, but every recipe is executed perfectly, and Nezumi would take common food made well over fancy dishes any day.

Shion rests his chin in his hand and says nothing as Nezumi eats. He looks more alert now. The glossy film of sleep has faded from his eyes, and Shion’s gaze is back to its usual level of penetrating. Shion’s ability to stare like he can see past all your bullshit directly into your soul hasn’t changed one bit. In fact, being a member of No. 6’s governing body seems to have made his perceptions more astute.

This is both a comfort and a cause of deep uneasiness.

“You must like it,” Shion says, “because you’re not saying anything.”

Nezumi spoons another bite into his mouth and chews on that comment. “I’m not sure I like what you’re insinuating. It sounds like you think I only talk to criticize.”

Shion straightens. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Fishing for compliments, then?” Nezumi shrugs a shoulder. “Alright. Karan’s recipe is really delicious. You must give her my praises.”

Shion turns face away and shakes his head, but Nezumi still catches the curve of his incredulous smirk. Nighttime sparring is Nezumi’s preferred type, because Shion is usually too tired to win.

“Deliver the praises yourself,” Shion says. “You live there, not me.”

“I compliment Karan all the time. But I don’t think it means as much coming from me.”

“It means a lot. Mom loves you.”

Nezumi hums a sound of assent and decides to be civil and ask, “How was your day, then?”

“Fine.” Shion leans back in his chair and folds his arms across his chest. “Everyone still sucks.”

Nezumi points his spoon at him. “Touché.”

Shion laughs lightly, but a moment later his face sours and he sighs. “Talking about work after work is depressing. Can we talk about something better?”

“I would love to, but I don’t think either of us do much else but work and read, Shion. And last time I tried to discuss literature with you over dinner, you told me to stop.”

Shion leans his elbows on the table and laces his fingers together, his expression serious. “You were playing devil’s advocate too much. I don’t get why people do that. If we’re having a discussion about something, I want to know your opinion, not an opposing opinion for opposition’s sake. And if it is actually your opinion, then don’t hide behind ‘playing devil’s advocate.’ Just be honest about it; otherwise, you come off as an uppity snob, parroting views that aren’t even yours just to pick a fight.”

“…I feel like you’ve been sitting on that diatribe for quite some time.”

“I was thinking about it all week,” Shion admits. “People in the office do it, too, all the time, and it drives me crazy.”

Nezumi nods his head slowly. “Duly noted. Anything else you’ve been stewing on that you want to share?”

Shion’s expression goes quiet. His interlaced fingers tense, but he holds Nezumi’s gaze and says lightly, “No. That’s it.”

The temperature in the room drops a few degrees. Okay… That’s concerning. Nezumi focuses on scraping the last remnants of chili from his bowl to mask his confusion. What did Shion have on his mind that he didn’t want to share?

Did I offend him?

Shion hasn’t seemed irritated or guarded around him lately, but then Nezumi doesn’t know him as well as he used to. Shion’s basically a politician now and is well-versed in evading uncomfortable questions and bending truths. But even though Shion has gained some important networking skills, he hasn’t changed that much in essentials; he’s still straightforward and fiercely opinionated. If Nezumi pisses him off, Shion lets him have it right then and there. So whatever it is, it’s a touchy enough subject that even Shion balks at mentioning it.

Does he want me to back off?

Nezumi’s stomach twists, and his appetite shrinks in the shadow of his thoughts. It’s barely been any time at all since Shion welcomed him back. He couldn’t be sick of him yet… Right?

Nezumi knew reuniting with Shion wouldn’t be seamless. They would have to relearn each other; they’re different now, and there’s no pretending that difference away when they’re in close quarters with one another. He had expected anger and hurt when he and Shion finally faced each other again, but Shion has shown him nothing but warmth. Shion’s emotions are more muted at twenty-four years old than they were at sixteen, but he is no less gracious or willing to throw open his home to Nezumi again.

Nezumi had been grateful for the warm welcome. It was proof that Shion still wanted him around, but he also recognizes that Shion’s willingness to try again merely meant Nezumi had gotten his foot in the door.

Nezumi knows very well he’s on probation.

The seven years of separation that had brought Nezumi so much clarity had apparently caused Shion a lot of pain. Nezumi has picked up enough from Karan and Inukashi to piece together the broken picture of Shion’s life in the first four years of their separation: anxiety, depression, periods of simmering misdirected anger. As happy as Shion’s friends and family are that Nezumi made good on his promise and returned—as happy as Shion claims to be—they have reservations about letting him slip back into Shion’s life. They want definitive proof that he’s here to stay, and will not make a ruin of Shion’s feelings a second time.

Nezumi thought he gave Shion that proof when he agreed to move in with Karan. He thought he’s shown his dedication through the family dinners, and casual conversations, and solicitude for Shion’s personal space over the last few months, but maybe he’s growing too slowly for it to work. Maybe for all the progress Nezumi has made he isn’t enough for Shion anymore.

In West Block, Shion needed him; he was marooned and uncertain, and Nezumi was his only support and source of information. But Nezumi isn’t Shion’s whole world now. Shion has work, and friends, and a mother who loves him, and he’s gotten by just fine while they were apart. Maybe he’s realized that Nezumi no longer fits into his life the way he used to.

“Nezumi? What’re you thinking about?”

Nezumi glares down into his empty bowl. He never wants to return to the angry, caged person he had been, but sometimes he remembers what a bitter hell it is to care about another person, and he wishes he could push away the feelings instead of letting them burn through him.

“Nezumi?” Shion reaches across the table and pokes his bowl with the tip of his pointer finger. “Are you alright?”

“Fine. Just thinking about what you said earlier, about being honest.” Nezumi pushes out his chair and stands. “Easier said than done sometimes.”

He takes the bowl to the kitchen sink and begins to wash it. Midway through soaping the spoon with the sponge, he hears Shion’s soft footfalls on the tile behind him. His presence pricks at the back of Nezumi’s neck like heat, but he keeps his attention on the sink.

“You can use the dishwasher, you know….”

“Old habit,” Nezumi answers. He rinses the spoon off, places it in the drying rack, and moves on to the bowl.

Stupid, Nezumi curses himself. Old habits indeed. He’s too old to be covering his insecurity with fits of pique.

And what is he so upset about, anyway? Shion hasn’t said he’s unhappy or he wants him to leave. He could be hiding something entirely different—he could be hiding nothing at all. Maybe Shion’s just tired. Maybe they’re both very tired and being weird for no reason and everything will settle itself in the morning.

Nezumi scrubs the bowl until the brilliant blue of the glass is completely eclipsed by soap.

“I made you mad,” Shion says like a revelation. “Why?”

Why? Nezumi doesn’t have to do any deep meditation on the question. He’s upset because he has feelings now and everything is inconvenient. Every one of Shion’s smiles makes him hopeful, and every frown and cautious reply sends his mind into a paranoid spiral. And although he’s in tune enough with his emotions now to acknowledge what he’s feeling, his stubborn pride is still an obstacle to expressing them.

So here he is, acting like a spoiled child about something that isn’t even confirmed.

Nezumi splashes a bit of water over the bowl and drops it onto the bottom of the sink with suds still clinging to the rim. He scrubs the water from his hands with a cloth and faces Shion.

“I’m not mad,” Nezumi mutters. “I’m…” Off balance. Terrified. Utterly inept. “Confused,” he hedges.

Shion bites his lip, his dark eyes wide and searching, and Nezumi tries not to sound like too much of an insecure fool when he says, “You lied to me just now. There’s something on your mind.”

Annnnd, now I sound accusatory. Nice. Shion doesn’t answer immediately and it makes the moment so much worse.

Why did he have to be a masochist and call him out? He should have ignored the awkwardness and enjoyed Shion’s company instead. If Shion is uncertain of their relationship, he could have used tonight to convince him it’s worth giving them another chance. Instead, he’s forced Shion to tip his hand.

With every silent second that passes, Shion looks more uncomfortable and Nezumi wants to crawl out of his skin. He can’t stand the nervous tilt to Shion’s expression. Nezumi turns back toward the sink and runs the water over the bowl again, just to have a reason to escape Shion’s gaze, no matter how transparent.

“I didn’t want to bring it up yet,” Shion says softly behind him. The words trace a line of cold down Nezumi’s spine. “I wasn’t sure how you’d react, and I didn’t—” Shion pauses and clears his throat.

The bowl is clean, but Nezumi keeps the water running, staring down at the stream and dissociating while he waits for Shion to deliver the critical blow.

“It’s only been a few months, and I know you’re still settling in at Mom’s,” Shion continues. “I didn’t want to put too much pressure on you.”

Pressure? Nezumi’s racing heart makes it very difficult to think properly, but he vaguely realizes Shion’s words are a strange lead up to telling him to hit the road.

Nezumi flicks the faucet off and half turns to peer at him. Shion straightens when their eyes meet and a combination of relief and agitation flits over his face before falling into a guilty sort of apprehension.

“I was afraid,” Shion says. “I didn’t want to scare you away when things have been going so well.”

“Scare me away…how?” Nezumi is thankful he’s such an accomplished actor, because it allows him to deliver the question with completely calm curiosity. Internally, he is a mess of electricity. Shion doesn’t want to scare him away, which means Shion wants to keep him close. His heart is pounding so hard his head feels like it’s going to explode.

Shion opens his mouth, closes it, opens it again, then turns his burning face aside and fixes his eyes on the front door. He’s raking his thumbnail so deeply and incessantly against the second knuckle of his pointer finger that he seems in danger of rubbing the skin raw.

“I wanted to ask…” Shion mumbles to the door, “whether you might consider…staying here.”

Nezumi drums his fingers quietly on the counter but otherwise stays very still as he probes, “Here as in…?”

“Here. My house.”

The faucet releases an errant drop into the sink; the faint plop is thunderous in the silence stretched taut between them. Nezumi clears his throat and turns his body the rest of the way to face Shion straight on. Shion glances at him sidewise, probably trying to read his expression, but as Nezumi is keeping his face carefully devoid of emotion, Shion will get nothing.

Nezumi leans back, crosses his arms across his chest, and asks as casually as humanly possible, “You want me to stay over tonight?”

He’s pretty sure Shion doesn’t mean anything suggestive by it, considering they are not romantically involved anymore—yet?—but even as a platonic invitation it makes Nezumi’s breath catch in his throat.

Shion eyes Nezumi up and down, and although he knows Shion’s probably just trying to get a read on him, a flash of heat skitters over Nezumi’s skin. He shifts fractionally and Shion’s eyebrows twitch up in equal measure. Shion stops pretending to be fascinated with the door, and Nezumi has a sense that he’s given something crucial away.

“No. Well—not exactly,” Shion says. “I want you to move in with me.”

Nezumi’s mind sticks.

Move in. Shion isn’t trying to get rid of him. In fact, Shion isn’t tired of him at all. He wants to live with him again.

Which is…terrifying? Exciting? Baffling and blessed and wholly unexpected. Nezumi isn’t sure how to feel about this sudden invitation, because he hasn’t belonged somewhere in years. He had never thought he was the type to stay put.

Until Shion.

His whole impetus for slowing down and returning was Shion. They’ve been stuck in each other’s orbits since they were twelve years old, and Nezumi has finally reached the point where he’s ready to submit to the gravity of them. But that’s a two-way street, and Nezumi expected he would have to match Shion’s patience if he ever had a chance of winning him back. If he and Shion ended up together, this time it wouldn’t be an arrangement of convenience or necessity; it would be because they had chosen to build a life side by side.

And Shion is asking me to live with him again.

Nezumi realizes he’s been silent too long when Shion starts twitch and flutter, a telltale sign he’s about to launch into a nervous ramble. God, Nezumi is so grateful time hasn’t trained that quirk out of him.

“I know it’s kind of… Kind of quick, maybe?” Shion babbles. “And maybe it’s a little backwards, since we’re not…together anymore, yet, and people usually move in after they’re already together, but…” He flushes, but pushes through the stumble quickly. “But we’ve done it before, and it worked then, and I think it will work just as well now. Better, even. We’re older, and we both know what we want out of life—and each other.”

Not the most coherent speech, but Nezumi agrees with all the sentiments. Even so, he finds himself asking, “Are you sure that’s what you want?”

Maybe it’s a dumb question in light of Shion’s confession, but Nezumi has to ask it. He has to hear the answer in order to quell the doubts bubbling up from the darkest parts of his mind, the parts that have grown quieter as he’s grown, but still whisper he’s not worth it, that he’s twisted and broken and taints any goodness that comes his way.

“I’m sure,” Shion says. “I’ve thought a lot about it and I realized something.” He takes a deep breath and stares directly into Nezumi’s eyes as he says, “I don’t need you anymore, Nezumi. I can get on just fine without you; I know that. But I want you in my life. And it seems like you want that too?”

“Yes.” Nezumi’s answer lacks Shion’s conviction, but it’s alright; Shion knows him well enough to realize he wouldn’t agree to something so serious if he isn’t committed. “I would like that.”

Shion releases a small breath. “So it’s a yes?” He slides a bit closer along the counter. “You’ll move in? You don’t have to. I know it’s fast and you’re used to being alone. I won’t be offended if you need more time.”

“I don’t. I’ve had plenty of time to think too, you know.”

“Right,” Shion laughs lightly. “Okay. Good.”

Nezumi and Shion smile at each other in the wake of their new understanding. Despite the wintry draft slipping in under the front door, the kitchen feels warm.

Too warm.

“I’m not as clean as you,” Nezumi blurts. Moving in together is fun in theory and Nezumi definitely wants to, but it’s only fair he be upfront about what Shion’s about to get stuck with.

Shion’s smile is incandescent. “I know. It’s fine.”

“And I’m told I still kick in my sleep.”

“I have a queen bed now, so it shouldn’t be a problem.”

“I shower in the mornings, and it takes at least twenty minutes, so you’ll have to factor that in when you get up for work.”

“I shower at night, so I think it’ll be fine.” Shion pauses. “But twenty minutes is a long time. What do you do in there for so long?”

Nezumi ignores the question and launches into his next point. “You’re going to need more bookcases. At least two more. I have a shit ton of books; they barely fit in my room as it is.”

Shion glances at his back wall. “I’ve been meaning to buy more anyway.” He raises his eyebrows. “Anything else?”

A million other things, but Nezumi decides that’s enough for the moment. Shion’s eyes are wide and full of laughter and the bit of scar peeking out from his unbuttoned collar is all of a sudden very distracting.

“You better not change your mind about this,” warns Nezumi. “Once I move in, I’m not leaving again.”

Shion’s eyes flash. “Is that a threat or a promise?”

Nezumi can’t help but smile when he answers, “A promise.”

Shion lifts his chin and nods, evidently pleased. They regard each other shyly for a moment before Shion decides to diffuse the tension by announcing they’re going to watch a movie.

Ten minutes in and Nezumi pretends not to notice when Shion’s head starts to nod. Twenty minutes in, and Shion is back to being face-down on the throw pillow. Nezumi abandons the movie-watching farce and watches Shion sleep instead.

This is what I’m signing up for, Nezumi thinks, shaking his head. Night after night of Shion asleep and defenseless on the couch. He cards his fingers through the fluffy white hair at the nape of Shion’s neck.

He can hardly wait.

#no6 #no.6 #no. 6 #no 6 #pigeonsimba #crowmunculus #no6secretsanta #fanfiction #submission

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adrianasunderworld · 4 years

Text

More headcanons for the boys +romance

Piers

Piers is secretly a sap for old movies. Black and white ones to be more specific. He not only finds them aesthetically pleasing, but also with their own charm. Theres a small theater in Spikemuth that exclusively airs vintage movies, and visits whenever he has time.

His and Marnies biggest bonding activity is hair night. She'll help him redye the white streaks in his hair(which is no small task). Piers will blow dry and straighten hers. They'll put on a bad movie from netflix, order take out and have a night.

Piers can play guitar. But it's more for personal use than anything. He finds it relaxing to just sit an play while he writes songs. It's only for very specific songs that he'll play in stage. They're usually the very emotional ones that mean a great deal to him. Every piers fan knows, if he's holding a guitar, the crowds tears will follow.

Ever see that video of a dog relaxing while his owner plays the pokemon theme on an acoustic guitar? That's Piers and his pokemon.

Obstagoon is like a big bratty dog. Always wants treats, always wants attention. And will whine when it does not get them. When it was a zigzagoon, it would give big pouty eyes for treats and table scraps, and it always worked on young piers. He was a chubby little thing back then.

When skuntank was a stunky, it was biter. Nothing was safe. Furniture, clothes, fingers. Piers always had little red mark's from the teething pokemon. A quarter of all his money always went to replacing toys Stunky had destroyed.

Romance

Piers has always been bashful around people he genuinely likes. *coughraihancough* he'll do his damndest to play it off. But he's always been terrible at hiding a crush. Especially if he blushes around them. He's so pale any color on his face will be very evident.

Half the time he always assumes the other person has no interest in him. But he isn't dense enough to not be able to tell when he's being flirted with. He feels better talking to someone when he knows/feels like his attention is wanted. It makes him less nervous.

Isn't one for initiating pda, but is not opposed to it. He likes having his arm around his s/o shoulders though.

Has written breakup songs before. No you can't hear them. They're private and locked away in his desk. He has just enough self respect to not air his relationship drama on stage.

Play with his hair, he'll be putty in your hands.

Has never understood people who stay in relationships with someone who does not get along with their loved ones. Marnie is all Piers has, and if someone cannot get along with her or makes her uncomfortable, they are out. Plain and simple. Unless Marnie says it's ok to keep seeing them, Piers won't pick a relationship over his sister.

Piers is always busy with gym responsibilities or performances and practice. As fun as it can be to bring his s/o to events, his favorite date night activity is to stay home with them. He'll make them a nice meal, put on a movie and relax on the couch.

Is actually a big cuddle bug. He loves snuggling on the couch. His head on your lap. Holding them in bed. Piers is touch starved and needs attention, please give it to him.

Start giving him good luck kisses before a performance, it'll be his favorite thing.

Raihan

Raihan acknowledges he can be very vain at times. But the one being that out vains him at every turn is Duraludun. If it sees Raihan filming or taking a photo, it will butt in and try to take over the whole shot. It has become very good friends with the Rotom in his phone. When they get bored they'll stage a hostile takeover of his instagram andTwitter. It become a monthly thing.

Not so secretly a bookstagramer. Raihan always ends up in the vaults and libraries of Hammerlocke. He saw one of his gym trainers, Camilla, taking pictures of the books she was reading and asked about it. She showed him a lot of aesthetically pleasing pictures of books, and libraries, and artfully cluttered desk and wanted to try. It's not a secret, but he does try to keep it separate from his hyper dragon man gym persona. Sort of business vs. Personal deal.

He dresses very well. Despite that more often than not he is in his favorite hoodie and gym uniform, when Raihan wants to dress up,damn son. He spends a lot of time online and is friends with Nessa and Sonia, he knows what's up in fashion and what looks good on him.

He and Gordie are the Meme Team. Everytime they have a conversation it will descend into quoting and reenacting vines. Only the younger gym leaders know what they're saying, they just refuse to encourage it. Except Alister. Hes a little kid that hears these cooler older dudes being funny and try to join them. Hes they're third member now. Poor Bea, she couldn't save him.

Out of all his pokemon, he's had flygon the longest. Raised it from a trapinch when he was a kid. That's why he wears that orange hat/headband thing, to honor his buddy.

Takes very good care of his skin. Partially because his face is always on camera, but also because his skin dries out easily and always need moisturizers. Nessa showed him all her favorite brands. He likes chilling out with a face mask, it's very soothing.

Romance

Raihan is a very confident, attractive, and friendly guy, he pretty much never has trouble getting a date.

That being said, sometimes he gets a bit too confident and ends up coming on too strong for some people.

This was definitely a problem in his teen years. He would just say the wrong thing with all the bravado he could muster and whoever he liked would scoff and walk away. He grew out of it, but it could be downright painful to watch young Raihan flirt.

Raihan is pretty laid back and generally takes rejection very well. Only when it was someone that he REALLY liked and had for awhile is when he gets truly upset. And when that happens he just hangs out at home for a bit or go out to the wild area, Spends time with his pokemon. Generally just wants be alone with his thoughts till he can bounce back.

When Raihan is dating someone, he surprisingly doesn't want to post about it for awhile. If they're still together after a few months is when he'll post selfies and cute couple pictures. He's learned the hard way how certain types of fans will react to him dating, and once they go public they wont have as much privacy. He likes to have that grace period of just being a couple without all eyes on them.But once that initial hurtle is over. Its photo city with him.

Is a big fan of "good morning" and "good night" texts. Also loves falling asleep over the phone when you can't spend the night together.

Honestly just text him a lot in general. A lot of gym things take up a large chunk of his time. Text that you miss him, or a picture of one of your pokemon sleeping on the couch, ask if he wants pizza later. Literally anything will brighten his day. He'll definitely return the favor.

Loves taking s/o out on the town. From league events, to friends parties, or just dinner and shopping. He wants to show them off. If you aren't comfortable with it, tell him sooner rather than later.

Is a giant tease. Loves to whisper whatever he can in your ear or send something risque over text to make you blush and then act completely innocent.

Leon

Has a room in his house just for Hop. Hop used to love visiting him every summer in Wyndon. Otherwise he would never see his brother. The visits got less frequent over the years. But Hop always has a place to stay with Leon.

After he had been champion for a couple years was when the merch train really got rolling. Tshirts, posters, stationery. You name it, it had Leon's face on it. As a kid he lost his shit over it and but over the years got less enamored. Although he does have a soft for the Leon toys. After all, who doesn't want an action figure or doll made of them?

Leon does his best to keep himself and his pokemon in shape and on a daily routine. That all gets thrown out the window when he visits home or family comes to see him. All his pokemon get treated like spoiled house pets. FromHaHaxrus being a test taster for his mom to Hop flying around the neighborhood with charzard. Its takes over a week to get everything back on track after.

Charzard is obviously the leader of all the pokemon next to Leon. All the newer pokemon always look up to them for guidance and charzard is always friendly and helpful. They are also very fond of kids, it loves events like visiting schools or children's hospitals. He's like a drampa in charzard skin.

Haxorus is a diva. She loves attention and shiny things. She adores Sonia because when she was just an Axew, Sonia always gave her a little trinkets, like sparkly hair pins or a pretty rock. She also loves to be complimented, Leon always calls her his pretty girl. Theres pile of shiny stuff that no one is allowed to touch at Leon's house unless she allows it.

Whenever leon visits home, he always tries to go out with his old friends. Usually they have a few drinks at the local pub and have dinner. Oddly enough, Leon can get lost going next door, but can stumble home no problem when he's drunk. Go figure.

Ever heard of a sneaker head? Well Leon is a hat head. Whenever his favorite brands come out with a new hat design, you can bet your ass he'll be line for the release or online waiting for the listing to show up. The wall of caps at his moms house is but a humble sample of his collection.

Played softball as a kid. He throws his pokeball the way he was taught to pitch. As a kid leon liked to think if he couldn't be a trainer, he would like the be a baseball player.

Romance

Leon can't flirt for shit,and I mean this in the nicest way possible. His idea of breaking the ice is asking if you want a battle.

Leon was especially hopeless as a teenager. He spent so much time with the league, an environment of mostly adults, being around anyone his age was a damn miracle.

Sonia and Raihan would always take him to parties to socialize. But anytime someone tried to make a move on him, Leon would just think they were being friendly.

Raihan has always been his wingman.

Raihan: My friend over there thinks you're cute. *points at the damn champion waving awkwardly from across the room.*

Even Now, they still do this. And it still has 50/50 shot of working.

Has been in a couple relationships, but both have ended badly. They were ultimately with Leon for his title and not him.

Leon wants to be with someone, he just finds it's harder for him than he realised. When he does find someone, it's going to be a bit of a slow go to know them and be sure they aren't using him. When that wall breaks he going to be the happiest man around.

Leon is affectionate and will always find a way to touch his s/o. From a kiss on the cheek, to random hugs, to lightly touching their back as he passes.

This man has never half Assed anything in his life. Leon's a go big or go home kind of guy, so when he wants to make a romantic gesture, he'll put his all into it. From picnics on the stadium field, to a special camping spot in the wild area, dinner on the top floor of the battle tower. Even just flowers will be from the best florist in in the city. Leon wants to show how much he loves you and nothing but his 110% best effort will do.

As extra as Leon is, it's always the small quiet moments that get him. He'll wake up early and see his s/o peacefully asleep, and he'll just melt and stay there for awhile.

You could try to make his favorite meal and burn everything and he'll still be touched. It's very much the thought that counts for Leon, because it shows you care enough to put the effort in.

King of cheesy lines. Will say the lamest pick up lines or something he heard in a movie to try and make you laugh. It usually works because he always says it with a straight face.

#cant be back on my bullshit if i was never off it #they're just fun to write ok?#pokemon #pokemon sword and shield #pokemon swsh #Raihan #gym leader raihan #gym leader piers #piers #leon #champion leon #leon x reader #raihan x reader #piers x reader #pokemon headcanons

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vindicatedvirgil · 4 years

Text

only fools rush in / part eight: of flowers and freeing words

TW: sexual innuendo (thanks, Remus), mention of hospital visit, mentions of cancer/chronic illness, VERY vague mentions of domestic abuse, vague mentions of sex, cursing, anxiety attack

chapter summary: Patton reflects on his relationship with Remus, his friendship with Logan, and just... everything.

---

Like a river flows surely to the sea

Darling, so it goes

Some things are meant to be

Patton wasn’t sure if he believed in fate. Sure, his mom would read him fairytales as a kid and he hoped that someday, he would find where he was meant to be. But he had worked hard to get where he was, taking care of his mom when she got sick, helping to run the flower shop all throughout high school and helping when he could now that he was in college. Everyone he had dated in the past always felt… like a background character, or one of those characters in video games that you only really deal with for one quest and then you don’t see them ever again. A part of his journey, yes, but not someone to join him on the rest of his journey.

And then he met Remus. Remus, who was so unlike anyone he had ever dated, who looked at Patton like he held all of the stars in his hands, who held him so gently after their moments of intimacy that Patton almost felt like a porcelain doll, so fragile, so ready to break in the hands of the person who he loved so dearly, as long as Remus was happy.

It had all happened so quickly; from the moment they met, Patton was in it. Their first date was unlike any other he had ever had, because they both broke down their walls. And as they grew to know each other more, as they progressed physically and emotionally, Patton wanted more and more to believe that Remus was the one he was made for. That, perhaps, Patton Hart, in his mother’s womb all those years ago, was being crafted just so that he could be held tenderly by Remus Creative.

He didn’t want to lose that. He couldn’t bear the thought of it falling apart; perhaps that was why he reacted so negatively to what Roman did during the power outage. For the first time in his life, Patton had something that he was terrified to lose other than his mother, Logan, and the flower shop. And even though Roman was one of his best friends, maybe especially so, he couldn’t bear the idea that the theater major would get in the way of what was, in Patton’s mind, meant to be.

It haunted his every thought, though. When he curled in Remus’ arms, the fresh afterglow settling above both of them, when he sat in his child development classes, when he cut the stems off of the flowers in the shop, it was all he could think of: Roman’s letter. And now he felt guilty for holding this grudge over him, but he didn’t know how to resolve things; until he realized that opening night of the musical was coming up.

“Hi, Mama,” Patton said, stepping into the flower shop, Remus in tow. “How are you today?” She swept him up into his arms, pressing kisses into his hair and on his cheeks.

“Much better now that you’re here, darling.” Her eyes fluttered over to Remus, who smiled, holding his hand out, but she pushed it aside and brought him into the hug as well. “Remus, you look very nice.” Remus glanced down at his outfit; he was wearing his dark green suit and had his hair brought back into a bun; it was the opening night of the play and they were making a quick stop before going to see it.

“Thank you, Ms. Hart.” He pressed a kiss to her cheek before stepping away to look at some roses, allowing time for Patton to explain what he needed.

“Yellow roses, Mama. For friendship,” he said thoughtfully, glancing at the vase he had dropped off with her the other day. “The usual fillers are good, though.” He fidgeted with the ends of his pink skirt a little bit. He had also dressed nicely; it was almost like he and Remus had decided to cosplay as Elphaba and Glinda. Patton wore white pumps, a white shirt with a sparkly bow tie was tucked into the skirt, and some sparkly tights. Remus had nearly dragged him into the bedroom when they met up at the apartment earlier. That would have to wait until later, though, because Patton didn’t want to miss a single moment of the musical.

Patton cheered louder than anyone for Roman, even louder than Remus (which… seemed impossible, but he managed to do it). The only person who rivaled his deafening cries was Janus, who beamed with joy and proudness whenever Virgil was on stage. And even Logan had to brush a few tears from his eyes at the end of the musical, when the entire audience stood and cheered as soon as Roman stepped out into the curtain call.

After the curtain call ended, Janus, Logan, Remus, and Patton stood expectantly where they knew Virgil and Roman would be coming out. Janus held the bouquet for Virgil, and Patton had the one for Roman. They stood there for a while, watching as families and friends greeted the actors and then left, and soon it was quiet.

“Where are they?” Patton asked hesitantly, and he shared a worried look with Janus. “Do you think Virgil had another anxiety attack?”

“They’re probably just fucking,” Remus muttered, his hands snaking around Patton’s waist, leaning down to press his lips to his earlobe. “Exactly what I’ll be doing to you later tonight, little flower.”

“Re!” Patton flushed hard, batting away Remus with his free hand. Janus smirked, a low chuckle escaping as he watched the encounter with the two. “You keep making moves like that and you’ll get nothing but a door in your face tonight.” Patton was teasing, of course, but Remus stepped back, a hand clapping on Logan’s shoulder as the two discussed a project they had in a mutual class.

Finally, Roman and Virgil stepped out of the green room, their hands intertwined. They were both cleaned of their makeup and costumes, and it occurred to them all that since the two were dressed in intricate costumes and makeup for the tin man and the scarecrow that it would take them a little bit longer to finish cleaning up. Janus moved first, scooping Virgil into a big hug, murmuring how proud he was and complimenting his work. Patton stepped up to Roman hesitantly, holding out the bouquet of flowers.

“You did amazing, Ro,” he said quietly, smiling up at his friend, whose eyes brimmed with tears. Roman took the vase with flowers, then set them on an empty table before hugging Patton tightly, sobbing into the smaller man’s shoulder. “Hey, shh, it’s alright. We’re okay, Ro.” As the two hugged tightly, he felt a pat on his shoulder, and glanced to see Logan, smiling brightly, but shaking his head, as if to say ‘you idiots, I love you.’

“Get in here, nerd,” Roman muttered before pulling the smartest of the three into their hug. Patton didn’t know how long the three stood there for, but when they pulled away, Janus was still hugging Virgil tight. Remus gave Roman a brief hug.

“Proud of you, bro. Though I still say the medieval play in high school was your best,” the mustached twin said, and a look of realization crossed Roman’s features.

“You… saw that play?” he asked, and Remus nodded, confused. “Mom and Dad said you didn’t want to go.”

“I sat in the back corner, but I was so proud of you, Bro-man.” Remus smirked at the nickname he had used in the past for his brother, and Roman laughed, pulling his twin in for another hug. “You did awesome tonight.” Patton apparently had snapped a photo of the pair hugging with his polaroid camera, and thus entered the struggle over who would get to put it on the fridge.

Janus won that fight.

Patton sat alone at one of the tables in the schoolyard, his brown paper bag full of goodies that his mom made sure to include. It was scary, starting in a new school halfway through the year, and all of the other kids made fun of the flowers he brought in for his new teacher. Then they made fun of him for wearing a pink sweater, for his big round glasses, and for having long hair that his mom had put into a bun for him that morning before he got on the bus.

So, there he was, second grade, sitting all alone. He didn’t mind, because he knew that when he got home, he’d see his mom, and they’d be safe.

“What are you doing?” A voice said from beside him. He looked up to see a boy with square glasses, neatly combed hair, a polo shirt, and a tie. Patton remembered him as the boy who answered all of the questions during the science part of their class. “This is my table.”

“O-Oh… I’m sorry. I just… didn’t have anywhere else to sit.” Patton looked down, trying to hold in his tears. He didn’t want to be known as the kid who cried on his first day at the school, and his mom always knew when he’d been crying. “I’m s-so sorry…” The other boy sighed, sliding into the seat across from him and setting a book down.

“It’s fine, just stay quiet so I can read, okay Patton Hart?” he asked, and Patton looked up at him through teary eyes.

“Y-You know my name?” His voice was shaky, and he slid his glasses up to sit in his hair so he could wipe his tears with the sleeve of his sweater. The other boy nodded.

“You’re the new kid. You have a frog backpack and a notebook with a kitten on it,” the boy said matter-of-factly. “A little bit frivolous, but if it’s what you enjoy, then there is no harm there.”

“Fribolous?” Patton asked, giggling. “You use a lot of big words.” The other boy sighed again, adjusting his glasses.

“Yes. Frivolous. F-R-I-V-O-L-O-U-S. It’s something that does not have any serious purpose or value,” he explained, and Patton nodded, face deep in thought.

“You know that underwater sea animal, porpoise?”

“I am aware of them, yes. Why do you ask?” he asked, and Patton giggled, having thought of the perfect pun.

“So… if I put a porpoise with serious guy glasses and a tie on my notebook… would it stop being fribolous?” He giggled all the way through his joke, and the other boy groaned.

“That was… awful. Why did you do that?”

“I thought it would be funny,” Patton said, sinking down a little. “D-Do you not like jokes?” He thought about his father, who never made any jokes around him. Who glared at Patton whenever the jokes came out of the small boy.

“I do not think that they lead to important discussions, is all,” he explained, and Patton nodded, taking a bite of his sandwich. Then realization struck.

“What’s your name?”

“Oh. I’m Logan Crofters.”

As the weeks passed, Patton stayed sitting at Logan’s table, dishing out puns whenever necessary but mostly asking Logan about different kinds of science-related things. He liked the way that Logan explained things; he made a lot more sense than their teacher, sometimes.

“Am I bothering you?” Patton asked one day. He had slid over his grapes to Logan, who was munching on them between reading paragraphs from a book about frogs.

“What?”

“Am I annoying?”

“No, Patton. you’re not annoying.” Logan seemed a bit exasperated with the question, but he answered it anyway.

“Are we friends?” Patton’s eyes were focused on Logan, it had been so long since he had a friend that wasn’t his mom or one of his many stuffed animals.

“Oh. Um… I don’t know. I’ve never had a friend before.” Logan’s response was curt, and Patton’s jaw dropped.

“What!?” He jumped up from where he was sitting, then ran over to sit next to Logan. “Can I be your best friend, then??”

“Um. Sure?”

“Yay!” He wrapped his arms around Logan tightly.

Logan ran into the waiting room of the hospital, finding Patton sitting on a chair, his head in his hands. He approached him quickly, a hand instinctively going to his best friend’s back. “I got here as soon as I could, is she okay?”

“She collapsed, Lo. I just… She went into the back to rinse off the new roses, and when I went to check on her… she was on the ground.” Patton leaned into Logan’s shoulder, tears staining the polo shirt he was wearing. “The doctors say... it might have come back, but they’re running tests.”

“She’s in good hands, Pat. I’m going to text my parents and let them know that I’ll be here with you until she goes home, okay? And then I can be there for you.” Logan’s phone was in his hand, and he sent a quick text.

“Tell me something logical, please,” Patton whispered once the two were seated together, hands twisted together, Patton’s head on Logan’s shoulder.

“Are you sure?” he asked, and just got a nod in return. “Well… logically speaking, a bee should not be physically able to fly–”

“Lo!” Patton was giggling, his grip tightening on Logan’s hand. “You know me so well. Thank you.”

The morning after opening night of the musical, Patton entered the apartment, yawning. He didn’t get much sleep thanks to Remus, and he was hoping to take a nap before delving into studying for his final exams. When he entered the apartment, he found Logan sitting at the kitchen table, papers spread out in front of him.

“Hey, Lo. No Janus?” he asked, glancing around. Logan shook his head.

“He went home a while ago. Roman and Virgil are still in bed, though,” he explained, stretching his arms up. “Did you have a good time with Remus last night?” Patton’s face reddened at the question, and he nodded. “Does Hannah like him?”

It still caught Patton off guard whenever Logan referred to his mom by her first name, but they had been friends for almost fifteen years, so of course it made sense. Logan could call her mom, too, if he wanted to. He was there whenever Patton needed him, whenever she had a doctor’s appointment that Patton couldn’t drive her to because someone needed to look after the store.

Patton wondered why Logan did all of this. Sometimes he thought back to that time when he asked him if they were friends, all the way back when they were first getting to know each other. And Patton, little Patton, just… proclaimed them as best friends. Did he shoehorn Logan into their friendship so that he could never branch out?

No, that couldn’t be true, because Logan joined debate and chess and academic decathlon in high school, but still spent all of his free time with Patton. And even once Roman and Janus and now Virgil and Remus entered their lives, he still regarded Patton as one of his best friends.

“Hey, you look like you’re having some troubling thoughts, Patton. Want to talk about them?” Logan’s voice was pulling him back into the present, and he nodded, sitting on one of the stools. He was quiet for a bit, though, and Logan kept writing some notes down until Patton finally started talking again.

“Are you just my best friend out of convenience? Because I claimed you so early on and never really had any other friends? Do you just… stay my friend out of pity?” Patton was looking down until he felt Logan’s hand on his back, and then a laugh came from the usually stoic man.

“Patton, you’re my best friend because everyone else is annoying. If I didn’t want to be your friend I wouldn’t be, you’re a lot to deal with but I’ve been dealing with you for fifteen years and I plan on dealing with you for many more.” Logan’s voice was serious, and Patton could tell that he meant what he was saying. He leaned into Logan, wrapping his arms around his best friend.

“Thanks, Lo. Love ya.”

“Love you too, Pat.”

Patton’s arm burned, but in a good way. Underneath the plastic he could see the vibrant colors of his very first tattoo, his mother’s favorite flower and a bee sitting on its petals, to remind him of Logan. He didn’t tell anyone that he was getting it, not even Logan, so when he got home to find Logan sitting at the kitchen table doing homework while talking to his mom, he was surprised.

“Lo? What are you doing here?” he asked, putting his arm behind his back so neither of them could see. He kissed his mother on the cheek before sitting on one of the chairs beside them.

“I came by to study but Hannah said that you went out for something,” Logan explained, pushing his glasses up further on his nose.

“What did you do, baby?” his mother asked, glancing at him carefully. He was still hiding his arm, but he smiled and brought it out, settling it on the table.

“I uh, I got a tattoo, Mama,” Patton said hesitantly. She looked at it carefully, smiling a little bit. “A sunflower. Your favorite.” Logan eyed the tattoo as well, nodding in understanding. “To celebrate you beating the cancer again.”

“Patton, will you take me to get a tattoo?” Logan’s voice was there suddenly, and the two Harts looked at him with surprised expressions.

“Lo, you… want a tattoo?”

“I want to get a constellation tattooed on my shoulder. The one that was in the sky on the day we became best friends.”

Patton leaned into Remus’ side, the taller man’s arm wrapped around his shoulders. They were at the cafe, the others having gone home long ago to study or sleep, but the couple stayed long after, chatting with Remy whenever he brought them over refills on their drinks or small pastries. Remus’ grip got a little tighter around Patton each time he shone his signature bright smile at the barista, earning a soft thigh squeeze from the smaller man and a kiss on the cheek. Maybe that was why he did it; not because he was worried about Patton flirting, but because his boyfriend always comforted him with those delicate touches and sweet kisses.

The bell above the door to the cafe rang gently as a few men stepped in. Remus glanced out of the corner of his eye at them, and he thought his heart would stop. “Shit,” he muttered, looking down, earning a confused squeak from Patton. “Shit, we need to go. Right now.” Patton glanced over at the group of men, all dressed in leather, covered in tattoos and piercings, evil smirks on their faces as they noticed Remus.

“Do you know them?” Patton asked softly, and Remus buried his face into the other’s shoulder, a small note of truth escaping his mouth. “Are they…?” He didn’t need to finish the sentence. Patton wasn’t a fool; he could tell by Remus’ body language and the way he tensed up that this was the group of boys he had spent time with in high school. “I’ll go pay our tab, will you be okay?” Remus said nothing but gripped onto Patton tighter, shaking his head.

“Remus Creative,” one of the voices said, dark and gritty, and Remus cringed, looking up at him. Him. “Looks like you found yourself a precious pansy, hm?”

“Fuck off,” his voice was weak, trembling, and the memories of those eyes tore through him.

“Aw, don’t worry, kitten, he’ll tire of you soon enough and you won’t have to deal with his voices and crude comments,” another one said, and Patton considered lunging at him, but held back, because Remus was trembling beside him.

“Everything alright, babes?” Remy was there, thank god, and Patton smiled sweetly at him, taking his debit card out of his pocket.

“Can we pay off our tab, please, Remy? We have to get going,” Patton said, his eyes flickering from the barista to the men, and a wave of understanding seemed to cross Remy’s face, who nodded and took the card, going back to the counter speedily.

“Running away again, Remus?” That voice asked again, and the mustached man shuddered, unable to look away from the grimace on his face. “You were always so good at that.” Patton’s frown deepened, and he glared at the man. “Aw, are you going to try to defend him, little kitten? Trying to be so cool with those floral tattoos–”

“I TOLD YOU TO FUCK OFF!” Remus was standing, his fists clenched, glaring at the men. Patton scrambled to his feet, a hand gripping the back of Remus’ jacket. Remy reappeared, handing the debit card to Patton, placing himself between Remus and the group of men.

“Alright, boys. Get out. You’re not welcome here if you’re going to torment some of my best customers.” His voice was firm, and they all glanced at the ‘Manager’ title on his name tag. “I don’t want to have to call the authorities. Get. Out.” The group scrambled out the door, the bell clanging almost annoying to the three, and Patton’s arms were around Remus.

“Hey, you okay, babe?” he asked, feeling his taller boyfriend shaking, his head low. “Shh, it’s okay, everything is okay, we’re okay.”

“Are you babes gonna be okay?” Remy asked, still standing there, arms crossed as he watched the group of men outside in deep discussion.

“Thank you, Remy,” Remus finally spoke, his voice still low. “If you hadn’t stepped in… I might have done something I’d regret.” Remy smiled, setting a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, no one messes with my babes like that,” he said before going back to behind the counter. Patton’s lips were against Remus’ cheek, grounding him.

“Let’s go, Re.”

Remus woke up, feeling Patton’s arms around him loosely. The smaller man was snoring softly, and Remus smiled, carding his fingers through the fading pink hair. When they got back to his bedroom last night, he needed to be grounded, and Patton was there, being gentle and soft, his hands and lips all over his body until Remus felt relaxed enough to fall asleep.

Patton groaned a bit in his sleep, stretching his arms and legs, his eyes fluttering open to meet Remus’. “Hi,” he said softly, his voice heavy with sleepiness. “Morning, little flower,” Remus said, leaning down to press a stinky-mouthed kiss to his boyfriend’s lips. “Thank you for last night.”

“Oh. Of course, honey. Anything for you,” he said quietly, but Remus could tell something was on his mind. “What did they mean by… you tiring of me, or running away?”

“Before you… I never really had a… committed partner. I’d run at the first hint that things were getting serious, when they said those words, I ran,” Remus explained, looking down. “But… that’s not going to happen with you, Patton. You mean so much to me, you’re… everything to me.”

“Everything?” Patton asked, a smile appearing on his face, his lips pressing to Remus’ cheek and then his neck.

“Patton,” he started, his heartbeat speeding up, and he wondered if the other could hear it because soft blue eyes met his green ones. “I love you.” Patton blinked, absorbing the knowledge, and then his arms were around Remus’ neck, their lips pressing together joyously.

“I love you too, Remus.”

Remus smiled into the kiss. He wasn’t afraid anymore. Patton was there, he was with him, and everything was good. And if things came up, they’d work through them together. They were a team, and they always would be. He kept repeating those words between kisses, the weight from his mouth lifted, and he wished he could have said those words to Patton weeks ago, because it felt so right to say them.

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teaser for part nine: and the dark one is soft for the sunshine one

Roman wanted to object, but he knew that Virgil would just remind him of their nights practicing for the auditions, their super early mornings running lines, the way Roman was always there to watch Virgil’s scenes. Virgil was there too, always supporting, always smiling, even when his anxiety got the best of him, even when it was hard to focus.

part nine will be (hopefully) posted on Sunday, September 6 at 12PM PDT

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part nine | part ten

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taglist

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thedeaditeslayer · 3 years

Photo

Bruce Campbell talks ‘Evil Dead,’ ‘Spider-Man,’ ‘Xena’

The first time Bruce Campbell came across Sam Raimi, they were students at Michigan’s West Maple Junior High School.

“Sam was a year younger than me,” Campbell recalls, “and I remember him dressed as Sherlock Holmes playing with dolls in the middle of the floor. And I remember going way around him. And I found out later that it was Sam Raimi. We didn’t really come into contact until we got until high school.”

What a connection they made. After bonding over D.I.Y. filmmaking, Campbell and Raimi went on to do 1978 shoestring horror-short “Within the Woods” together, which they evolved into 1981 demonic thriller “Evil Dead.”

Campbell would periodically reprise signature “Evil Dead” character Ash Williams in various sequels and offshoots. And appear in Raimi-produced “Xena: Warrior Princess,” portraying slippery “king of thieves” Autolycus on that ’90s-iconic TV fantasy epic.

And then there’s Campbell’s memorable cameos in Raimi’s blockbuster, Tobey Maguire-starring “Spider-Man” film trilogy: the ring announced in the first, 2002 film, “snooty usher” in the 2004 sequel and a maître d’ in 2007′s “Spider-Man 3.”

Of course, Campbell’s made a mark outside that dynamic duo. He drew raves for his portrayal of a nursing-home-bound Elvis Presley in 2002 indie comedy-horror gem, “Bubba Ho-Tep.” Then there’s his role of Sam Axe on USA Network spy drama “Burn Notice.” Not to mention numerous other film, TV, voice acting and even video-game work.

The cult-fave actor will make his first ever trip to Huntsville this week, for Oct. 24 events at Von Braun Center’s Mark C. Smith Concert Hall featuring “Evil Dead” screenings followed by a Campbell-led chat about the film, his life as an actor and beyond. Tickets for these 3 and 7:30 p.m. events start at $32, via ticketmaster.com.

His upcoming projects include a comedy album with actor Ted Raimi, Sam’s brother, called “The Lost Recordings.” Campbell also is readying a book of essays called “The Cool Side of My Pillow,” which finds him riffing on subjects ranging from noise to the environment. He hopes to have both released by the end of this year. More info at bruce-campbell.com. On a recent afternoon, Campbell checked in from his Oregon home for a phone interview. Edited excerpts are below.

Bruce, when you do an “Evil Dead” screening event, do your discussions turn up new things about the film or that you haven’t thought of in a long time?

Every show turns up something new because it puts you on the spot. Someone will say something that will then trigger something that you had forgot. I just sat down the other day before one of these shows with my guy who is my frontman and I was like, “OK, l’m just going to tell the story of making this movie.” It’s not for questions I’m just going to tell you basically what you’re about to see. But yeah, every show triggers some new thing. I’ve seen the movie. I know how it ends. But that is the challenge, finding some new, weird tidbits.

Back in high school how did you and Sam Raimi first bond? Did you share a class or something?

Basically I got into typing class, that’s what started it. I could not believe I was stuck in this stupid class where everyone around me seemed to know how to type. I’m like, “How do you know this?” It was very frustrating. So I went to a counselor for the first time ever – I’d never gone to try to get out of anything.

So I go there and I say, “Hey can I drop this dumb typing class?” She goes, "Yeah, what do you want? I go, “What do you got?” So she comes up with “radio speech.” And I’m like, “Radio speech? Wait they do the morning announcements (at school) and stuff?” and I’m like yeah let me get all over that.

So I got into a class and Sam Raimi was also in the class. And the guy who taught radio speech also directed all the plays. We didn’t know how critical that was. The first year I couldn’t get in anything in my high school. I was auditioning for everything but I didn’t have a class with this guy. By the next year I had a class with him, and then me and Sam were in basically all the plays after that. We found out how the deal worked.

So I met him in radio speech and we’d do the morning announcements together and got to talking about what we do in our neighborhoods. I was making little regular-8 (millimeter film) movies and Sam was making Super-8 movies. So we started to join forces during the course of that high school run, that two or three years in there.

We were very productive. We didn’t really get into trouble because we were too busy like filming parties. We wouldn’t go to the parties we’d film the parties and use them in some way in our little films so it was a great guerrilla filmmaking period.

A celeb or well-known person you were surprised to learn they’re an “Evil Dead” fan?

I heard Charlie Sheen, one of his favorite things was to smoke a doobie and watch “Evil Dead 2,” and Alice Cooper’s favorite horror movie is “Evil Dead.”

If it’s good enough for Alice Cooper it’s good enough for me. You host the quiz show “Last Fan Standing.” What do you make of the mainstreaming of nerd-culture?

Every generation has its deal. In the ’40s most moviegoers were in their 40s and so the actors were in their 40s. Humphrey Bogart and Spencer Tracy and all the guys were in their 40s. You didn’t have to be 21. And then as the audience got younger the actors got younger and the people who run the companies get younger and so they’re really just catering to what’s popular.

Comic books have always been popular but now they’re really popular. Not really sure what that’s all about but yeah social media has certainly helped but I think it’s another form of escapism. Whenever times get weird, people want escapism. During The Depression they did the Busby Berkeley splashy musicals where everyone was happy all the time, when life was really miserable. And some decades where we’re really doing okay, the movies turned introspective and we go after ourselves and figure out why we’re like this and like that. And so I think we’re in a phase where we just want to be taken away to another galaxy and Marvel is very happy to help.

And you’ve been a part of that. In Sam’s “Spider-Man” trilogy, which of your cameos did you have the most fun with?

Well I don’t know it’s hard to lineate because they’re so critical. The first one I named Spider-Man. If I wasn’t in the movie a billion dollar franchise would be called The Human Spider. He wants to get in the theater in the second one, past the snooty usher who won’t let him in because he’s late, because it will spoil the illusion, so I think I’m technically the only character who’s ever defeated Spider-Man. And in part three, a superhero comes to a mortal for help. He wants me to help him propose to his girlfriend so it’s sort of a landmark case where a superhero goes to a mortal for help which is pretty rare. So I can’t delineate because they’re all critical to the “Spider-Man” universe.

Do you have any cool mementos from "Evil Dead or elsewhere from your career? Maybe something like the chainsaw from “Evil Dead 2”?

You know, it’s weird I’m not a hoarder, I’m not a collector. My brother, he has the shotgun from “Evil Dead,” but not because he loves movie trivia, he just likes guns. My brother also has I think the set of keys to the original cabin. That’s a pretty good one. Not sure how he got that one.

I have weirder ones. Like I have a prop from a 1989 movie called “Sundown: The Vampire in Retreat.” I have Van Helsing’s holy bottle where he shakes the holy water at them. And I have what I call my tchotchke shelf, where most people would look at it and they couldn’t identify what importance each item is, but there’s a story for each one.

Some of your favorite actors outside the horror genre?

Oh, I l love a lot of the old time actors. William Holden, he starred in “Bridge on The River Kwai” one of my favorite movies. I like the guys who had to work a lot. In the old days and actor would finish a job on Friday he was under contract, he took two weeks off and started a new movie a couple weeks later. Actors kind of just do one or two movies a year if they’re lucky these days and it doesn’t help them refine their craft.

I feel like the guys who worked a lot got good because they got really used to the process. I’m a fan of the studio system. Not all movies were good and not every actor was happy under the studio system, but I think a busy actor’s a good actor.

For your role in “Bubba Ho-Tep,” what was your process for tapping into Elvis’s vibe?

What guy doesn’t want to be Elvis, you know? So I worked with an Elvis impersonator for about a half an hour and then he gave up on me. He goes, “Look, man, you’re never going to get it.” I’m like, “Wow either I suck or you suck as a teacher but somebody here sucks.”

No, but I watched a bunch of footage and documentaries. There’s a good one, all his Memphis Mafia who worked with him, a filmmaker basically got them all drunk one night and interviewed them all and that’s where the good stories are. You learn a little more of the human side of him. But that’s pretty much it. I’ve never been a stage performer so mercifully there wasn’t that much of it, just in quick flashbacks.

And there’s a part of me, in the back of my mind, I want to know that Elvis' descendants, somebody, a daughter, niece, somebody has watched that movie and approved. We’ll see.

I thought it was a cool creative take on that whole Elvis thing.

I agree. That’s why I did it. It was one of the weirdest scripts I’ve ever read But yet it wraps up though. It has a weird premise but it has a really interesting theme of what do you do with old people. Do we forget these old people? And are they still useful in society, old people? And I thought it had a sweet ending, that these two old guys they kind of rally themselves one more time.

What’s a well-known role you’ve turned down?

Turned down? I don’t have a lot of those. I don’t operate in that rarified air of saying, “Oh I turned ‘Titanic’ down.” I tried to get a part in a studio movie called “The Phantom” and Billy Zane wound up getting the part." And it was down to me and Billy, I was number two for the job, but I didn’t really enjoy the process very much because it seemed more political than actually acting. It was amazing how many people you had to audition for, and you had to go up the ranks and each time it got a little more tense as you move up. So I’m good doing these weirdo little movies.

I read the budget for “Within the Woods,” the predecessor of “Evil Dead,” was a princely 1,600 bucks. What was the most expensive line item, you think?

Food and probably fake blood. Tom Sullivan, who did the special effects, probably needed to mold a few things, so he probably spent a couple hundred bucks on molds. A lot of it was footage because Sam Raimi likes to shoot footage, so we probably bought a lot of rolls of film. And we did go to a cabin to shoot it, so had to get in the car and travel so maybe a little gas money in there too. That’s about it.

What can you tell us about the status of the next installment of the “Evil Dead” franchise?

We’re honing-in, circling the building now trying to lock in a partner. We have a couple of bidders and we’re trying to just find the correct suitor and we have a script written and a director picked. Sam Raimi hand -picked a guy named Lee Cronin, who’s a very good Irish filmmaker. And it’s got a very good modern tale. It’s a modern-day urban “Evil Dead,” it’s called “Evil Dead Rise.” And we’re hoping to do that next year.

You were a producer on 2013 “Evil Dead” remake. What’s the key to making a reboot effective?

Well rebooting can be very confusing and frustrating and not always successful. Reboot, sequel, remake we have all these crazy terms. What we’re doing now is we’re saying," Look, this is another ‘Evil Dead’ movie and that book gets around, a lot of people run into it and it’s another story." The main key with “Evil Dead” is they’re just regular people who are battling what seems to be a very unstoppable evil, and so that’s where the horror comes from. It’s not someone who’s skilled. They’re not fighting a soldier. They’re not fighting a scientist. They’re not fighting anybody more than your average neighbor. This one is going to be a similar thing. We’re going to have a heroine, a woman in charge, and she’s going to try and save her family.

Speaking of a female protagonist, when you’re at a con or meet fans somewhere, who has the most passionate superfans: “Evil Dead” or “Xena”?

“Xena” hits them at an emotional level. Like, they’ll come up to me and Lucy Lawless (the actor who played the show’s title role) and just burst into tears, because her character helped them get through a difficult time. “Xena” is more representative of overcoming your struggles in life. “Evil Dead” fans are pretty fervent but they don’t cry as much.

#Bruce Campbell #Evil Dead Rise

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villainousshakespeare · 4 years

Text

In The Timing

Tom Hiddleston/Reader

Rated E

Warnings: Smut, Angst, *But in this chapter only FLUFFFFFF with a teasing mention smut

Chapters: 4 of 4 + Epilogue

After a horrible first date, you end up at a pub filled with University students. You are feeling rather old and sorry for yourself, until a blond haired Adonis strikes up a conversation with you. Obviously he is too young for you, but what could a little flirting hurt?

@yespolkadotkitty @hopelessromanticspoonie @nonsensicalobsessions @caffiend-queen @thecutestlittlebunbunfairy @vodka-and-some-sass @arch-venus25 @devikafernando @devilish–doll @hiddlesholic @just-the-hiddles @kellatron55 @myoxisbroken @wrathkitty @shae-annelore @kellatron55 @from-hel-i-with-love ciaodarknessmyheart

Chapter 1 - First Meeting

Chapter 2 - The Morning After

Chapter 3 - Years Later

Chapter 4 - Time’s Up

Epilogue

"Ladies and gentlemen, you know my first guest as Loki the God of Mischief and The Night Manager. His new movie, In The Timing, is currently nominated for a slew of awards, including the Oscar for Best Picture. Please welcome back to the show Mr. Tom Hiddleston."

You smiled as Tom jogged out onto stage to thunderous applause. Or maybe "thunderous" wasn't quite right. Thunderous implied deep, and the cheers for your man were much higher in pitch, clearly spearheaded by all of the overeager women in the audience. You couldn't really blame them. In his monochromatic blue suit and leonine mane of hair, Tom was definitely scream worthy. Still, that didn't mean you wouldn't take great delight in teasing him about his status as heartthrob later.

The response to In The Timing had been incredible, with glowing reviews and box office receipts that were much higher than expected for an independent romantic comedy. Now, with the studio making a push for it on the awards circuit even more people were coming out to see the movie that was your labor of love in more ways than one.

All of this was wonderful for you and Tom, as you were both receiving accolades and prizes for your disciplines, but it also meant an endless round of press junkets, talk show appearances, and gala screenings all around the world. Most of the weight of this, of course, centered on Tom's deliciously broad shoulders, but you had your own share of speaking engagements as well. To your amusement, he had insisted that the studio coordinate your schedules, so that you were promoting in the same city at all times. He had just gotten you back, he insisted. After seventeen years apart he was not going to spend one night separated from you if there was anything he could do about it.

You were only too happy to go along with this plan. The state of pure euphoria you had been coasting through your days in had come to a screeching halt the first time you were asked to get up onto a stage in front of a thousand people and answer questions about your process and the characters you had imagined. Only Tom, standing to one side of the stage like a proud and nervous papa watching his child win her first spelling bee had kept you grounded. Every time you started to falter, you would look over and see him practically speaking for you with his body language. It would make you giggle inside how earnestly he watched you, reacting to the questions with amusement or indignancy on your behalf. What did it matter, you realized, what anyone else thought of you, when the over grown ginger in the wings believed in you so completely.

That didn't mean, of course, that you would let him off the hook for the swooning fangirls. Someone had to keep his head from becoming too big to fit through the door.

"So, Tom," Colbert was saying as you focused on the interview, "I hear you've got a new picture out."

"I have," he answered with a smile, playing along with one of his favorite hosts. Between the Hank Williams duet and the Hamlet soliloquy, Colbert was right up Tom's alley.

"Yeah, I hear it's pretty dreamy. Or rather you are pretty dreamy in it."

"I don't know about that," Tom chuckled with humility, face going a bit red. "I don't know who would have told you such a thing."

"Oh, my female staff, my daughter, my wife..." Stephen deadpanned as the audience laughed. "What is it about this film that is so... I believe the word was "swoony"."

"Swooy? An excellent word. From the old English geswogen, meaning "in a faint"" you rolled your eyes as Tom pontificated.

"If you say so," Stephen laughed.

"I would say that it's the waistcoats, Stephen," Tom said with an impish grin. "They are rather constraining, depriving the wearer of appropriate oxygen. Hence the swooning."

"I see. Interesting. Now, this is a romantic comedy. Normally those are not big Oscar bait movies. Oscars tends to go more for tradgedy or history... the feel good tropes.

"Exactly," Tom laughed along.

"So what is it about this movie that makes it so appealing to awards voters? Is it the waistcoats?"

"Maybe," Tom smiled. "Maybe it's the waistcoats."

He was so charming, you thought you could feel the adoration from crowd washing towards the stage. He would be on cloud nine tonight, you knew. Tom feeded off of the energy of a crowd in a visceral way. It wasn't ego, exactly, or at least not just. It was the validation of his hard work, and the knowledge that he had shared something with an audience that had touched them on a personal level, made them experience something as a communal group.

With a smug smile you wondered if he would be able to wait until you were back to your hotel tonight before sharing that excitement with you, or if you would have to find a closet or some other private room to slip into for half an hour or so. Over the last few months there had been a number of times when, sometimes for no other reason than a look you had thrown at him, Tom had siezed you by your wrist and dragged you to some semi-secluded spot to have his way with you. Hell, once or twice you had even been the one to push him into an alcove and reach for his zipper. Your relationship all those years ago had been marked by insatiability for eachother, and if anything the years apart had only added to the ferver to touch, taste, and fuck eachother senseless.

"Along with the costuming, which is brilliant - bless our wonderful costuming department - I think the thing that sets this movie apart is its writing," Tom was saying, throwing an adoring glance in your direction. "It really gets to the heart of what it means to be in love. How we, as human beings, with all our foibles and idiosycrosies can be our own worst enemies in the persuit of our heart's desire."

And seriously, how could you not love this man to distraction?

"The course of true love never did run smooth," Colbert threw in.

"Exactly. Shakespeare said it best as usual. But do you know which character that was?"

"Helena, Midsummer Night's Dream," Stephen said uncertainly.

"Close, very close," your walking Shakespeare anthology smiled sugly. "Hermia. Act I, Scene 1 I believe."

"I'll take your word for it," Colbert surrendered to the master. "So, you're nominated for a slew of awards - a BAFTA, a SAG, an Oscar... is there anyone that you are really gunning for? It's the Oscar right?"

"Well, sort of," Tom hedged.

"What do you mean sort of?"

"I am enormously flattered to be nominated for all of them, of course, and so excited for the film to be recieving so much love. But the award I'm most excited for isn't an acting award for me, or even Best Picture. It's the Adapted Screenplay Award."

"And why would that be, Tom Hiddleston?"

"Well, as I mentioned before, the writing, particularly the dialogue, is truly the star of this picture."

"Uh-hu. No other reason?" the host prodded. "I know you're a private man when it comes to your relationships..."

"With reason, you have to keep a bit of life for yourself."

"Of course. So, what do you want to share with us Tom?"

"Well, it just so happens that the writer of this particular movie is someone very close to my heart," he smiled a dopey smile that made your stomach do filp-flops.

"How close exactly are we talking?" Stephen asked, also shooting you a look.

"Well, Stephen," Tom grinned, "it just so happens that this particular author, this beautiful, brilliant, compassionate woman, has recently become closer to me than people may realize."

"Really?" Stephen grinned back at him. "You know, it just so happens that I see her standing there in the wings. Shall we invite her out here?"

"Well..." Tom threw you a smile, eyes saying that he knew he would be in trouble later, "I really do think that she deserves to be the one sitting out here discussing the movie. She is the reason it is a success after all."

"What do you think ladies and gentlemen?" Stephen asked the audience as you glared at both of them. "Shall we bring her out?"

As a chorus of enthusiastic yeses assailed your ears, you vowed that you would make Tom pay for this later, possibly ususing the pair of fur lined cuffs he didn't think you knew he had purchased when you were strolling through the village the day before. Resigning yourself to your fate you sighed and nodded you head once to their entreating glances.

"Ladies and gentleman, she is the writer behind In The Timing Victoria Thomas," you still were not used to hearing your pen name spoken out loud as often as it was, or responding to it. You were going to have to do something about that soon, you thought.

"That is her pen name, indeed," Tom said as you walked slowly out on stage, glad that you were dressed in a chic Calvin Klien dress that flattered your figure, "I hope you will all join me in welcoming the newly minted Mrs. Hiddleston!"

It had been a complete suprise. You and Tom had been walking through Central Park, Bobby frisking around you as he chased invisable prey. Your fingers were linked together, and Tom had at least somewhat learned to shorten his long stride to make up for your significantly shorter legs. After a bit of wandering, you had made it to the Shakespear Garden near both Delacourt Theater and Belvedeare Castle, and Tom had pulled you down beside him on a stone bench.

"This garden," he told you conversationally, "has every flower the is mentioned in Shakespeare's plays planted in it."

"That's so interesting," you teased, even though you did find it interesting, you loved to give him a hard time over his love of all things Shakespeare.

"All of those flowers," he went on as though you hadn't spoken, "and not one of them is close to being as beautiful as you are."

"Tom," you sighed dreamily, snuggling against his chest. Honestly, how had you gotten so lucky?

"Darling," he said, a nervous tone creeping into his usually confident voice. "I wanted to ask you something."

"What's that?" you said lazily, enjoying the smell of his skin as he kissed the top of your head.

"Would you look at me love?" he asked.

You lifted yourself off of his chest to see an anxious expression to match his voice.

"I know that we have not been back together for long," he began, hands figiting, "but I think you know how much I love you."

"I do," you smiled at him. "I love you too."

"And we have, if you think about it, known eachother for almost two decades."

"I suppose."

"Given that, and that I don't think I will survive parting from you again," detaching himself from you, Tom dropped down onto one knee and your mind went blank. "My darling love, will you marry me?"

You gaped at him in stunned disbeleif, unable to move or speak as the sun glinted off of his copper curls. As your eyes met his you saw a look of hope begin to shade into panic, and realized that you had not given him an answer. Just as you were wondering how mouths and tongues worked, Bobby barked loudly and jumped up onto the bench beside you, breaking the spell that you had been under. You burst out laughing, and after a moment so did Tom as Bobby licked at your face.

"Upstaged by my own dog," he grumbled good naturedly, some of his confidence coming back as you were beaming at him. " B ut come, darling, ' what sayest thou then to my love? speak, my fair, and fairly, I pray thee .'"

"I say yes," you smiled at him as he rose to spin you off your feet in a circle. "Of course yes, Tom!"

Two days later, in a quiet ceremony attended by just imediate family flown in secretly and his ever vigilant puplicist Luke, the two of you were married in the same spot by your fiesty dirctor Susie, who had obtained her liscense online for the occasion. It was peacful, and even if one or two persistant pedestrians had been able to snap a quick picture of you in your ice blue dress and Tom in a perfectly tailored Ralph Lauren suit, Luke had been able to keep any whisper of it out of the press. As gossip control went, it was a minor miracle.

"So, you two crazy kids tied the knot, huh?" Stephen asked as the crowd finally died down.

"Yes," Tom said quickly, looking a bit nervous. "Though as you may be able to tell by the expression on my beautiful bride's face, we hadn't made the announcement public yet."

"Oh that's okay," Colbert waved it off, "they won't tell, will you guys?"

The crowed laughed at the notion of it staying a secret after such a public announcement.

"Well, congratulations Tom, and to your lovely wife, my condolences."

"Oh, I think Tom's the one who's going to be needing condolences soon," you joked, and Tom gamely winced, though his eyes said he wasn't sure how much you were joking.

"So, why did you agree to marry such an obvious fixer upper?" Stephen asked you. "Couldn't you find anyone good looking?"

"It's a struggle, Stephen," you sighed and the audience laughed, as you had married, by your own reconning, the most handsome man on the planet. "But, well, I'm in love you see."

"Ah," he nodded sagely.

"Yup, I'm in love with Bobby, and the only way to get the dog was to say yes to the man."

"My evil plan worked, you see," Tom chimed in, laughing his endearing ehehe

"You used the dog to get the woman? That's next level planning!"

"Well you see, Stephen," Tom said, staring into your eyes with an intensity that made you forget you were on national TV, "I have been in love with this particular woman for seventeen years. And if it had taken adopting an entire three ring circus to finally get her to marry me, that was what I was going to do. Fortunately for our home, one adorable Spaniel was all it took."

"Seventeen years? Really?" Stephen looked back in forth between you, a wealth of unanswered questions in his eyes.

"Indeed. She led me quite a chase, but I wore her down in the end."

"I have a feeling there's a story here," the host said, in huge understatement, "but I'll wait until your next visit for that."

"I'm afraid that story is not suitible for television," Tom demured.

"Well, can you at least give any advice to the fans out there? Some help for the lovelorn?"

"Well, in the end," he said, giving it his usual deep thought, "all I can say is it's all in the timing."

"And that, my friends, is what we call a segue. You can catch the movie in theaters now."

Tom glanced over to you and winked with a cocky grin, and you thought of all the things that had gone between you, the years and passion and the love. You loved this man with everything you had. He might be insufferable, he might occasionally push you beyond your comfort level, but you knew in that moment and every moment that you were loved with a fierce, constant heart. It was the happy ending you had always dreamed of. And it was yours.

Notes:

Thank you all so much for reading. It has been a wonderful story to write.

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fic #fluff #romance #love #talk show #epilogue #at last #I don't want this to be over #bobby hiddleston

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saleintothe90s · 3 years

Text

422. ”Carrie” (May 12 - May 15 1988)

I adore reading about flops. One of my favorite flops to read about is Carrie the musical. A doomed production from the start. Millions of dollars wasted. Bad costumes. Filler songs.

Similar to my Simpsons season 10 review, I wanna give something to the worst aspects of the show. With Simpsons, bad episodes were awarded Marge’s homemade Pepsi. For Carrie, I think I’m going to give the bad parts the “Vending Machine Maxi Pad” award.

As most anybody who follows Broadway flops knows, clips from Carrie are scarce and are in poor condition on YouTube. Most of the actual clips are from when the show was in test productions in Stratford Upon Avon, but the music has been replaced with the Broadway soundboard. So, keep that in mind. Most of the time you can’t even make out what’s going on. Here’s the closest copy of the entire show I could find on YouTube, from the Sratford Upon Avon production.

I know people bash the musical, and sometimes it’s rightfully so, but two things are consistent: Linzi Hateley who played Carrie, and that orchestra that is on.point. Check out the overture.

(source)

The show begins with girls cheering in gym class in the beginning of an aerobics lesson? The white gym shorts look like diapers. That’s the first of many costume mistakes.

The song is a banger, I love Darlene Love playing the gym teacher, she’s my favorite part of the song. The only part that is cringey to me is when the girls sing “I go CrAzZyyyyy” and they get on the ground and dance like a toddler having a temper tantrum in a Toys R Us. Since the audio quality is so bad in these clips, I thought at one point the girls were singing about not being caught picking their nose, no, the lyric is:

Bought the clothes, did my nose,

Near the end of the song, the girls are on these rising rafters? It took me for-ever to realize that they were simulating a cheerleader pyramid, and that Carrie had snuck in near the end of the number to be on the bottom of the pyramid. Oh, and she causes it to fall and someone tells her to eat shit.

“Dream On” is the song that the girls sing while in the showers. Why yes, it does look like they’re in the nude due to the poor quality of the video. The song is ok, it gives total night driving home from the mall in the late 80s early 90s vibes. Although one girl says the line, “Six foot three and he's in his forties!”. WHAT.

Carrie breaks those vibes at around 3:44 by screaming that she’s bleeding. When Miss Gardener slaps Carrie, a cymbal plays. I love it.

I like to imagine that when the girls threw the tampons and pads at Carrie, some flew into the audience.

“Carrie” is shrill at first, and then it turns into a bit of snoozefest. Linzi sings the name “Carrie” about 458 times.

Betty Buckley who previously had played the original Grizabella in Cats. and who played the gym teacher in the original movie plays Carrie’s mom. Her song, “Open Your Heart” is pretty good. It’s a nice little break before mom goes bottoms up on Carrie for getting her period (”And Eve Was Weak” [Stratford version with Barbara Cook]):

Carrie: I was in the shower and...

Mom: You’re forbidden from showering with the other girls...

Carrie: I started to bleed!

While Carrie spends the rest of the night in a cellar, the popular girls are at the drive-in. Now, this musical cost over $7 million dollars 1, but yet this was the best set they could think of for a drive-in movie theater:

It looks like something out of a high school play -- which I guess makes a little sense since they are high schoolers? I’m grabbing at straws here. It cost so much money to put Carrie on, what’s a few more dollars to have two real hollowed out cars on stage, one with Chris (in the red) & Billy (in black) in it, and the other with Sue (pink leggings) and Tommy (purple windbreaker)?

“Don’t Waste the Moon” is the song sung at the drive-in, with Sue having regrets about throwing tampons at Carrie in the beginning of the song. The song is very 1980s, and it kind of doesn’t fit in the musical. Gene Anthony Ray’s (Billy) talent is wasted here.

It’s time for some “Evening Prayers” for Carrie where she discusses with God her new telekinesis powers. Meanwhile Carrie’s mom is being a worrywort. During the Stratford production, Carrie’s mom is in a rocking chair over there looking like Whistler’s Mother.

“You’re going to tell Carrie that you’re sorry!” belts out Miss Gardner. In the musical, Chris seems more obsessed with torturing Carrie than in the movie or book if that’s even possible. Sue is like, “What did she even do to you?”. Even Billy asked earlier, “Who the hell is Carrie White?”.

Oooof. Seeing the gym teacher try to cheer Carrie up by singing a song about the prom (”Unsuspecting Hearts”) and how she could go too is patronizing. Even if its sung by Darlene Love.

“Do Me a Favor” might be the most infamous song from the musical. It’s the song I see referred to the most when I read bad reviews. For some reason Chris is wearing a metallic red bodysuit and Sue is wearing a light pink bodysuit. Are they supposed to be that cliche devil and the angel on the shoulder thing?

Chris looks like Evil Homer!

I’m going be the unpopular opinion here and say that I love the song! The erratic dancing also fits with the song.

Carrie tells her mom before “I Remember How Those Boys Would Dance” that Tommy is sweet and polite, but the audience doesn’t know that. Tommy is barely a character in this production. In the end, Carrie uses her powers to shut her mama up.

From what I gather in “Out for Blood” (audio) where Chris and Billy go looking for a pig to kill, the chorus dancers are the pigs? The video quality is so poor. Chris had another crazy ass red outfit on, some sort of shiny red skirt and a crop top. The costumes in this are just horrible. It was like the wardrobe budget was $50.

This song is so.so.bad. It reminds me of whenever Rocko from Rocko’s Modern Life would see a movie trailer or a parody of something on TV for some reason?! Or the “gotta get that Reptar song” from Rugrats when the kids saw Reptar on ice. Especially when the chorus tells Billy to kill the pig:

CHORUS Cha! Kill the pig, pig, pig! CHRIS Go! CHORUS Kill 'im, kill 'im, kill, kill! We'll make him bleed! CHRIS Go! CHORUS Get the blood, blood, blood Oooh, blood! CHRIS Oh, baby show... CHORUS Kill the pig, make 'im bleed Let's get the blood, that's all we need!

Sue’s song “It Hurts to be Strong” is a bit of a throw-away. It gets a vending machine maxi pad award. Moving on. It’s filler

In “I’m Not Alone”, Carrie sings while using her powers to move things around in her room. What things? I don’t know the video quality was so bad. That’s another thing! The sets are nonexistent! I wouldn’t know we were in Carrie’s room unless the Playbill told me. It’s another forgettable song. Three in a row!

Betty Buckley saves the day in, “When There’s No One”, a sad song about facing life without Carrie being her subordinate.

I don’t understand the prom dresses in “Wotta Night”, they’re all garish giant white numbers that make the actresses look about 20 pounds heaver. The guys look like that Rio doll from Jem. The costume designer couldn’t just go to Alexanders or A&S and buy prom dresses? You know, why am I even asking at this point. We all saw what Chris has been wearing this whole time. There is a disco ball thrown aside in the corner instead of hanging up. More on that later.

The song sounds way too much like that song “Rock on” by David Essex. Automatic Vending Machine Maxi Pad.

Here’s a cute rehearsal clip I found of “Heaven”, the song sung while the Prom Queen and King ballots are being counted. Unfortunately, the audio is bad. Chris is there to remind us that she’s still out for blood.

Finally, finally it’s time for Carrie the prom queen to get drenched with blood -- but the thing is, due to microphone technology back then, Carrie really couldn’t have blood dumped on her. Chris and Billy just run up to her and half ass pour the bucket at her. Could the set designer not suspend the bucket from above the stage? Is that also why the disco ball is thrown in the corner? I don’t even think she has stage blood on her during “The Destruction”, (which is the best song from the musical). I think a red spotlight over Carrie signifies the blood.

I think Linzi is really only truly covered in blood for press shots.

Anyway, the Destruction, I love it when she screeches “DOESN’T ANYBODY EVER GET IT RIGHT??! DOESN’T ANYBODY THINK THAT I HEAR?!” It’s the best. I could listen to it all day and I almost did the other day.

Due the poor video quality, I can’t really tell how the prom-goers are dying. They’re kinda just twitching there in the laser light or slamming themselves against the clear barrier that descended from the stage to signify Carrie closing the doors to the gym.

After Carie kills everybody, this giant white staircase descends and covers up the gym. I read somewhere, I forgot where, that its supposed to be the school stairs? We’re led to believe that Carrie’s crazy mom ran to the school. The first time I saw it, I thought that it was Carrie and her mom getting ready to go to heaven. I thought maybe someone over at the set department took the classic song too literally.

It appears that while the stairs are descending, Carrie smears stage blood on her.

The reprise of “Carrie’ is so much better than the original. Carrie stops her mom’s heart cold mid song. Then she slins down the stairs and Sue catches her. In an interview on playbill.com, Betty Buckley says that on opening night (I don’t know if she meant the first preview, or the official opening night), there were boos from the audience at the end, but cheers for Linzi and herself. I believe it. Betty and Linzi were amazing. Darlene Love was amazing. The rough scenes are the scenes with the school kids. They’re awful, in the words of my boy Jay Sherman, “they’re awful I tell you. aw.ful.”

(relevant prom .gif)

1. Rothstein, Mervyn. “After Seven Years And $7 Million, ‘Carrie’ Is a Kinetic Memory (Published 1988).” The New York Times, May 17, 1988, sec. Theater. https://www.nytimes.com/1988/05/17/theater/after-seven-years-and-7-million-carrie-is-a-kinetic-memory.html.

New York City Broadway reviews on the news in NYC for Carrie. That first reviewer, Stuart Klein, I love him. I’ve watched several of his reviews on flops on YouTube. Joel Sigel who was the Good Morning America film reviewer is here too.

Archive of Betty Buckley interview.

#carrie #carrie the musical #1988 #betty buckley #linzi hateley #charlotte d'amboise #broadway #musicals #broadway flops #flops #the 1980s

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totally-incorrect-theatre-quotes · 4 years

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Beetlejuice 12/18/2019

This will be long but this is a compilation of everything that stuck out to me about the show! Spoilers Obviously

Who was in the cast:

Sophia Anne Caruso- Lydia

Alex Brightman- Beetlejuice

Kerry Butler- Barbara

Leslie Kritzer- Delia

Adam Dannheisser - Charles

David Josefsberg - Adam

Act I:

The theater was GORGEOUS, the stage was beautiful, the music before the show was so good. The crowd was so excited, the ushers were so nice. It was just a wonderful experience before the show even started

Invisible started and I almost cried. Sophia is such an amazing singer, and hearing her sing live? She has so much power in her voice it gave me chills

I also liked looking through the ensemble and recognizing the cast members

The costumes were so stunning

The minute Beetlejuice arrived on stage everyone started clapping for a solid minute and he just waited there with a big grin on his face

OH MY GOD HIS SINGING was amazing

The sandworm was HUGE like I knew it would be big but it was literally huge

I was surprised that a lot of Beetlejuice’s jokes fell flat, they were hilarious

He said something along the lines of “I feel so out of place...like a gay republican”

I died

The MAITLANDS seeing them for the first time was so good!!! David plays an amazing Adam. Adam needs ot be protected at all costs, he is such a good husband

Barbara would do this low and growly voice during “Not Yet” and it was so funny.

Beetlejuice just hanging around them before they died was very funny. He would have one liners that were just hilarious

When the Maitlands fell through the fucking floor boards, I knew it was gonna happen but like it still shocked me

THE SAD PUPPET SHOW

Literally five minutes after he found out there was a kid in the audience Barbara says “You give me the creeps” and he goes “Well you give me a boner!”

The whole being dead thing reprise was SO GOOD. It was so amazing to watch live

Charles is so much more RAUNCHY than I expected, very sex oriented lol but so blunt about it

LYDIA

Can I just say that Sophia Anne Caruso plays teenage angst SO WELL. Like I 100% felt the sadness Lydia was feeling, it was so palpable

Just once more what the fuck did Lydia think was happening??? How dare she be surprised that they were moving. Like I love her but come on...

There’s a point during the scene where Lydia straight up gets this evil look on her face, starts giggling and goes up to Delia all innocently, trying to make it seem like this is hard for her to do and she’s breaking through. She does the whole “knock know” and when Delia said you don’t open the doors Lydia straight up started crying and said “I guess you’ll never know”

Dead Mom made me sob, Sophia has so much power when she is singing. There were points where Lydia would be near tears and it was so sad but so incredible.

Fright of their lives was very funny. BUT THEY CHANGED THE KATHRINE HEPBURN joke.

Adam is such a supportive husband

I also loved: “What are things that make you scared” and Adam goes “THE ELECTROAL COLLEGE! WHY DOES OHIO HAVE SO MUCH POWER” and Barbara deadass goes “Can I change my answer”

“WEll that was a soliloquy so you’re the rude one”

LETS HAUNT THIS BITCH

“No Reason” was also very funny, Delia tries so hard. This woman dabbed, did Fortnight dances, and just is a ray of sunshine. It’s just not what Lydia needs. Lydia was so savage during that song she took zero shits

Delia looked so upset when Lydia said “and good people die” It was very obvious she knew Lydia was talking about her mom, she went over to hug her but Lydia went under her arm

LYDIA MEETING THE MAITLANDS so adorable

Lydia telling the story about her mom. She looked so happy to have someone to talk to about it.

“Every year me and my mom would build these haunted houses but it was during the summer so nobody was expecting it. One time she dressed up as the ghost of edgar allen poe! I thought she was so scary, but nobody knew who she was...because people don’t read.”

Also Adam is adorable, his dad joke made the whole audience groan

Lydia just needs to affection. She was like “I don’t have many friends...it’s nice to know I have you guys in the attic.”

Delia: “That was the most impressive rogering you’ve ever given me” Charles: “I’m very good at sex”

ICONIC

Charles proposing and Delia being so happy, so cute. But then Lydia runs in and Delia has to hide

LYDIA IS SO DRAMATIC. I’m talking she's fake fainting about the scary ghosts, collapsing to the floor. A+ performace, it was so funny

WHEN LYDIA FIND DELIA heart breaking. She was crying I just wanted someone to hug her. The Maitlands looked so concerned, Charles didn’t make any attempts to comfort her which kinda made me pissed at him because he was being very selfish. Also when Lydia cried, “I wish I was dead.” he didn’t even bother to follower her. Do better Charles

Beetle juice's multiple limbs very funny gag

Also he started scatting

Poor Lydia :(

Lydia started like having a mental break down when BJ started singing “I’m gonna have a new best friend!” like someone please give this girl a break. She so smol

Beetlejuice stopping her from killing herself

“Say my name” was SO INCREDIBLE

the line “and kill him” was said so quietly that he was like trying to have Lydia not hear him

FAKE CARTWHEEL

Any time Lydia said Beetlejuice a light would shine on BJ but then go out when she would go beeeeeee- “cuz/” “being” “be a doll”

Nice lighting touch

The lighting, in general, was amazing

Lydia was so intrested in the possesion of Adam and Barbara it was so cool to see the little glimmer of a plan forming in her head

SHE PUSHED BJ off the roof and when she goes “what he was already dead” the Maitlands just kinda shrug like “she right”

Charles and Delia trying to High-five but missing? Cute ass couple, they are actually really cute together

Maxie Dean is a creep and has ZERO RIGHTS

Lydia’s yellow dress and how excited Delia was and how relieved Charles was

Day-O was fantastic Lydia looked so happy but then it started failing and instantly she got very angry but a sad kind of angry. She had such a look of hesitation on her face when she summoned BJ but she went through with it when she looked over at her dad and he was giving Delia a kiss.

You could see in her eyes that Lydia almost instantly regretted it when she saw just how chaotic he was being, but she just kept going because she thought she had no other alternative.

Charles reaching out for Lydia before he got pushed out of the house and Lydia looking at him as if she just wanted him to come and get her? HEART BREAKING

“It’s our house now kid!”

Intermission:

I got a cool cup and bought some merch. Very cool

Act II:

When Skye came on stage someone behind me said “Who is she??” like bitch just WATCH

Dana was amazing as Skye, Skye deserves the world she is so pure

LYDIA so chaotic as Skye definitely has a bby crush on Lydia

“Boo. Hope I didn’t scare you!”- Skye

Then Lydia scares her, Skye starts hyperventilating and Lydia goes “you’re fun!” and Skye says “I like you too!”

Poor Skye :(

Poor everyone in “That Beautiful sound”

Lydia SMILING. Any time she smiled it felt like a blessing. She seemed so happy

The clones do acrobatics in the aisles I did not expect that, it was so intense

NPR where tote bags come from

“And a book you’re never going to read” “the hand book for the recently decease?” “yep but you’re not recently deceased so...do you wanna see a sad puppet show??”

Beetlejuice looking so betrayed when Lydia left....

Lydia upstairs with the Maitlands. Omg Lydia looked so cute when she was holding the book and just kinda swaying in her spot when she was talking about it

“and we? We are old book smell people”

Lydia loving the smell of old books? Cute, adorable, 10/10

Adam being a dad

ADAM BOOPING her nose with the chalk. I would DIE for them

Lydia yelling at the maitlands when they won’t help her find her mom. WOW she had so much anger behind her voice but it was so sad because you can tell she was trying not to cry

Barbara 2.0 was amazing

Lydia walking across the stage trying to open the book :(

Charles and Delia coming back for Lydia and both of them flirting with each other...like bruh you’ve come to rescue your daughter please help her....

Beetlejuice tricking Lydia :(

Delia falling off the couch and just seeing her crawl off stage to do her Ms. Argentina quick change. ICONIC

Lydia accidentally exorcising Barbara was SO MUCH SADDER THAN I HAD EXPECTED like Lydia was having a mental breakdown she was os upset and lost and confused

When Beetlejuice showed up her face went so pale and she looked so scared.

“Well you wanted your mommy so this is what you get!” I CRIED that was so uncalled for

When the whole family was trapped Lydia really looked like a scared little kid because she is...like you forget how young Lydia is but there are several moments in the show where you are reminded that she is a scared, and lonely little girl who misses her mom

Charles trying to reach out to her but being chained to a wall, heart breaking. This scene made me so sad in general

Lydia agreeing to Marry him but her voice cracking and sounding so scared :(

THE HUG SHE GIVES BARBARA before she runs off

Charles pushing Adam and Barbara down so he could follow her

The whole Netherworld scene was so good

Poor Lydia was being pushed around, and pulled, and dragged, she looked so scared. Like she would try to run away from people but they would just grab her and pull her back. She looked like she was hyperventilating and just needed a hug but any time Charles got close to her

Lydia calling for her mom in the Netherworld and crying

HOME WAS CHILLING

Charles and Lydia making uP sobbing, I legit sobbed

OTHO’s real name being Kevin...very funny

Delia had NO MERCY when she found out his name was Kevin

Adam’s name plack being “Sexy”

BJ fliritng with Adam in general was pretty funny

When BJ didn’t buy the wedding thing and went to go kill Charles Lydia did no freaking hesitate and went to go grab the art peice to kill him with

ADAM FOR THE WIN

Creepy Old guy was very funny

When BJ came back to life and everything was shaking on stage Sophia straight up yeeted her hat off stage, I laughed so loud even though nothing else funny was happening on stage

Lydia looked so mortified when she killed BJ

Juno coming back for Lydia and Lydia actaully looking scared, but then the threat paused and Juno tricked BJ with love, and then went right back to Lydia. The whole family trying to protect her...veyr soft

BJ AND THE SAND WORM

Bj giving Lydia the cowboy hat

Jump in the line made me CRY

Lydia flying :D

End of Show

Instant standing ovation

I got to stage door and got autographs from Presley, Dana, Kerry, and David

#beetlegeuse #beetlejuice the musical #beetlejuice #beetlejuice spoilers

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notyetneedcoffee · 5 years

Text

USO Tour Tutelage

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Warning: 18+ for smut

Summary: Steve Rogers, newly dubbed Captain America, is not quite used to celebrity. Not too long ago he was just that skinny kid. An encounter with an older woman opens a whole new world of possibilities.

“Come on, Captain.” The pretty red head held on to his bicep, pressing her breasts into him. “You’re not going to let us girls go out unattended, are you?”

The other girl in the red, white and blue stage dress took his other hand in her own. “Yeah, we need someone strong like you to make sure were well taken care of.”

Captain Steve Rogers swallowed, plastering a smile on his face although the anxiety shone in his eyes. “I appreciate the invitation, girls. I really do. I just really have stuff I’ve got to do. You’ll be fine. Honest.”

You leaned on one of the props cases, hidden in shadows. These girls were determined. It made you smile because the drop-dead gorgeous Captain looked nervous as hell. You’d gotten to know him a little over the last two days, and you knew he may be a wall of a man, but he was really just a teddy bear.

“There you are.” You called across the backstage of the theater. “Captain. You’re late. You were supposed to be in my office five minutes ago.”

Steve looked up to see you at the other end of the stage. While the girls pouted, you gave him a sly wink. “Sorry.” He answered. “Right away. Sorry, girls. Like I said, stuff to do.”

He slipped out of their clinging hands and rushed to follow you to the other end of the theater. This USO tour had been going on a little more than a month, almost non-stop. They were here in St. Louis for several days. He’d met you when they first arrived, and immediately took a shine to you. As the owner and manager of the theater, you held your ground with the tour’s organizing Staff Sergeant. More importantly, you didn’t treat him like a performing monkey.

“In here.” You ordered. He followed you into your office. You shut the door, dropping the fake annoyed tone. “Looked like you were in need of a rescue. You want a drink?”

Steve chuckled, rubbing his hand along the back of his neck. “That obvious?”

“Probably just to me.” You smiled and offered him a whiskey. You lowered on to one end of the old sofa, motioning for him to sit. “Not into the girls falling all over you?”

“It’s just,” He lowered himself to the opposite end of sofa. “It’s a bit much.”

“You like more traditional, demure girls?” You grinned into your glass.

“No. Strong women.” Steve answered immediately. When he saw your smile widen, he blushed.

“You got a ‘strong woman’ back home?”

“Not exactly.” Steve sat forward, trying to get comfortable in the stage uniform. It was still new and was fine to stand in, but not very comfortable for lounging. “There’s . . . someone. . . but she’s in Europe somewhere.” Then he added more quietly. “And she’s not really mine.”

“Ah,” You kicked off your heels and tucked your feet on the sofa under your black skirt. “An unrequited love. Those are tough. You look like you’re itching to drop that get up. Do you got a beater on under that thing?”

Steve nodded.

“Then get comfortable, Captain. I won’t judge.” You smiled wickedly. “And don’t worry, I haven’t lured you here to take advantage of you.”

He looked sideways at you, a flush coloring his neck again. You may be six or seven years older than the young Captain and widowed, but you knew you were looker. You’d caught him admiring your ass while you were up on a ladder hanging signs in the lobby yesterday. Honestly, he was gorgeous, but even more appealing was his honest sincerity. The man was adorable.

He unzipped the side and pulled the uniform shirt over his head. The white tee underneath rode up, giving you a delightful peak at his strong stomach. He tugged it back into place quickly before dropping back to the sofa.

Your late husband had been a wall of a man, too. George hadn’t been as defined, or as pretty, but he was big. Even though you hadn’t loved him as much as you sometimes felt you should have, the physical side of your marriage had been good. You missed the feel of a big, strong man.

“Your husband doesn’t care that you’re working all the time?” Steve asked, trying to convince himself he misunderstood the way you looked at him. He didn’t mind. You didn’t make him feel embarrassed like the others.

“Can’t.” You sighed. “He died three years ago in an accident at the factory.”

“Oh, gosh.” He frowned, turning fully toward you. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. It was a while ago.” You covered his hand with your own.

You watched Steve contemplate your fingers. He turned his palm over and stroked your palm. His touch was hot, gentle. Sitting still became more difficult, you wanted to crawl over and make yourself comfortable on his lap.

“What’s the real reason those girls bother you so much?” You entwined your fingers with his.

His thumb stroked your skin. “They make me nervous.” He said quietly.

“Why?” You asked just as quietly, beginning to suspect.

“They want. . .” He stumbled. “I mean it’s not that. . .” He closed his blue eyes. “I’ve just never.”

“Ah.” You sighed. He looked at you, but you just gave him a gentle smile. “Waiting for something special.”

“I just. . .” He looked pained.

“Steve, tell me. I won’t tease. I promise.”

“I’m afraid of something awkward. I want to know how to do it right. And, I don’t want it to be meaningless.” He answered with such intensity.

“Do you want me to show you?” You purred, hoping.

His full lips opened, tongue wetting them. “I thought you didn’t invite me in here to take advantage.”

You smiled. “Do think I’m taking advantage?”

“No.” He slid a little closer. His large hand cupped your cheek, touched your hair, lowering to your neck. “I think you’re beautiful.”

Steve's lips touched yours, tender, tentative. You kissed him back, edging closer. When your tongue brushed his lower lip, his mouth opened under yours. His hand cradled your head, deepening the kiss. You mewed a delighted noise, emboldening him. He drank your kiss down like a man drowning.

He pulled you closer, setting you upon his lap. You smiled against his lips. He smiled back. Your fingers ran through his hair, pulling him closer to devour another heated kiss. His tongue battled yours, his lips gently sucking yours.

“You definitely have kissing down.”

He breathed into your mouth. “I’ve been wanting to kiss those rosy lips since you first smiled as me.”

You took his hand from your waist, moving it to your breast and covered his hand with your own. “Touch me.”

He obliged. Steve peppered your neck with open mouth kisses, nipping and licking, as his hand knead your breast. His other hand snaked up your back and unclasped your bra. You chuckled. He nipped your ear. His deep chuckle joined yours. “Amazing what you learn in the costume room.”

You pushed away from him, standing between his knees, and pulled you shirt and bra off in one movement. Steve sat, mouth open, eyes taking in every inch of your exposed skin. As if snapped out of trance, he pulled the white wife beater off. It was your turn to drink in the sight of him. Damn.

A momentary lucid thought tripped across your mind and you moved to the door, locking it.

As you came closer, you unzipped your skirt and let it fall to the floor. In nothing but your panties and stockings, you crawled onto his lap, straddling him. Steve held still, panting.

“Touch me.”

His hands ghosted over your skin, leaving goosebumps. Across your shoulders and neck, down your sides and your legs. His touch became more sure, more insistent, as his hands massaged your breasts. He pulled you forward, kissing them, teasing your nipple with his tongue.

“More.” You breathed, raking your hands up his broad back and over his strong shoulders.

You felt his teeth graze your peaked nipple and you shivered. Steve worshiped your breast and you moaned beneath his touch. Still, you wanted more.

You took one of his hands and guided it to the ache between your legs. Steve watched as you slid your hand inside your panties and stroked yourself. He did as he was shown, feeling your heat. “God, Doll, you’re so wet.”

“All for you, Captain.” You purred, moving your hips against his hand. With the tip of your fingers you circled the sensitive bud of your clit. “Here Steve, one magic spot is right here.”

He mirrored your movements, watching in fascination as you trembled beneath his touch. Steve suddenly flipped you over, laying you back on the sofa. He pulled your panties off, then one leg at a time removed your stockings.

Steve knelt between your legs, fingers running through you folds. He explored, touched, utterly amazed. You reached down, dipping your fingers into your waiting cunt. Your head fell back when he did the same, first one digit, then two. His other hand moved rhythmically over your clit. Your breath came in pants.

“Oh, fuck...” you moaned.

The dirty word went straight to Steve’s cock. He watched your sex glisten and brighten. The scent of you flooded his enhanced senses. “Wow.” He breathed. “Can I try... my friend told me to...”

“Anything, Steve.” You moaned. “God, that feels so good.”

Then you felt his hot mouth over your clit, forcing a vulgar growl from your throat. “Fuck yes!”

His fingers rubbed at your g spot and you shook. “There. Steve, right there.”

He moaned over you, lapping and sucking. Fingers pumped. You felt the fire mount. “Oh, I’m going to come, Steve! Oh, god.”

You came apart, shaking under his touch, flooding your orgasm over him. He kissed his way up your body. His smile could not be suppressed as he hovered over you. You pulled his head down, kissing him hard. “So damn good.” You smiled back.

He let you push him up to stand so you could remove his remaining clothing. You stayed kneeling, his amazing cock in front of your face. He was beautiful. Long and thick, weeping of want for you. Steve’s hands clinched at his side as you took him in your hand, stroking him. He moaned when you ran your tongue the from base to tip on the underside of his cock.

You looked up into his eyes. “You can touch me,” You ran your tongue around his tip, “just not too rough.” You took him fully in your mouth. Steve’s hands ran through your hair. He watched, mouth open.

You could feel his hands tighten. His cock twitched. Steve moaned and he pulled you up, and up, lifting you with his hands on your ass until you were face to face with him. Your legs wrapped around his hips. He kissed you hard. “I want to...”

“Fuck me, Steve.” You nibble his lip. Your hand slipped between you and you position the tip of his cock against your entrance. He lowered you onto him. You both moaned. He stretched you deliciously.

“Oh, Y/N, you feel so good.” He moved in you slow, slick inch by slow, slick inch. His mouth clamped down on your shoulder as you hung on to him. His pace picked up. A sheen of sweat broke out on his skin. “I want to see.” He panted.

You release your legs from his waist, and you pulled away just enough to crawl on to the sofa. Ass facing him, you looked over your shoulder and smiled. Steve ran his hands over your butt, slipping his fingers between your legs, before lining himself up and plunging into you again. “Oh god.” You moaned at the deeper thrust. “Fucking amazing.”

His fingertips dug into your hips and he moved. Looking over your shoulder you saw Steve bite his lip, watching himself slide into you. “You like the way that looks? Your huge cock fucking my wet cunt?”

Steve slammed into you hard. “That mouth, so naughty. Never knew how sexy...”

Your hand moved between your legs, rubbing your clit. “I’m going to come again, Steve. Oh shit. Harder, fuck me hard.”

His fingers ran up your back and one hand took you by the shoulder. He pounded into you harder. “Oh, god. You feel so fucking good.”

“Steve, oh shit.” Your legs quivered. The sound of skin slapping, of his growl, had you so close. He pulled your back closer, locking his mouth on you neck and biting down. You came, flooding down your thighs.

Suddenly he was gone. Leaving you empty and shaking. He turned you around, laying you on your back. “Y/N,” he moaned, slipping in again. He moved slow, watching your face. He kissed you with so much passion tears burned at your eyes. You hitched a leg over his hip as his moved, pulling him deeper.

“Steve,” Your hands roamed his shoulders and back. “You feel amazing. So good. Thank you, thank you for making me feel this way.” Words fell from your mouth as he kissed your neck. His pace quickened. You ground into each other.

He whispered words into your ear. How beautiful. How sexy. How amazing. His hand reached down, pulling your leg higher. His cock now hitting you just right. A moan escaped your throat. Steve growled. “Yes, there’s that sound. You like that, right there. Don’t you?”

“Fuck, yes.” Your eyes opened to lock with Steve’s, intense and full of wonder.

“Can you come for me again?” he breathed. You nodded, words escaping you. “I want to watch your gorgeous face. I want to see you come for me.”

So simple, so intimate. You breathed each other’s breath. Touched the length of each other’s bodies. Steve’s gaze never wavered. A small smile touched his lips. Warmth spread. His hip moved faster. Your thighs, slick from your own sex, slid along his hip. His strong hand gripped your ass. Your legs quivered.

“Oh, yes.” You moaned. Your orgasm washed over you, cunt clamping down on his cock.

Steve’s eyes never left your face, but when you spasmed around him, his hips snapped erratically. He moaned, pulling out quickly to empty himself across your stomach. He hovered there, held up by his powerful arms, panting. “God, that was. . . “

“Incredible.” You finished.

He laughed. Rocking back onto his knees, he snatched up his tee and clean you up with a careful, gentle touch. You lay under his ministrations, smiling contently. “Steve come here.”

There wasn’t quite enough room on the sofa. “I don’t want to crush you.” He scooped you up in arms before laying down on his back with you sprawled across his chest. His hands ran gently over your flesh. You sighed, nuzzling your nose under his chin. “So, I did okay?”

A laugh bubbled up from your toes. “I think it’s safe to say you’re a natural. You get much better, and you’ll put a woman in a coma.”

He laughed, holding you tight. “I had a good teacher.”

A sated laziness made your limbs feel heavy. Steve’s fingers drew circles around your back. “You feel amazing.” He murmured. You hummed in agreement. It was when you felt him begin to harden again that your head came up to look him in the face, one eyebrow raise. He grinned. “Practice makes perfect?”

You squealed as he flipped you over and kissed you hard. He was leaving town tomorrow, you thought, you could get back to walking normal after that.

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #captain america fanfiction #captain america fic #steve rogers smut

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emilysfanfictions · 4 years

Text

Mousy [Mouse-Part 2]

<3 I love these

[I over think alot so this took a WHILE]

Part 2 of Mouse

Prompt:Jack and the newsies found out Mouse was a girl and Jack knows she sings at the theater. It had been about three weeks since they found out about Mouse being a girl and Jack kept subtly flirting with her but when it came to actually asking her out he always backed out. One day the newsies force Jack to take them to the theater where they hatch a plan. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) <3

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SDooAeN3sGo - La vie en rose

[We’re not gonna discuss the fact this music isn’t accurate for the time period, I know. ALSO! the characters REAL name is Y/n but from now I am mostly going to refer to her as Mouse]

Mouse sat on a bench with her last newspaper at her side, her birthday had recently passed and the newsies tried to find something while she insisted she didn’t want anything. They didn’t have money but soon they took notice of how much of a hassle her hair was to keep out of her hair and got her a ribbon, she thought it was sweet and ever since then she would tie her hair up in a ponytail with the ribbon and sit her hat over the pony tail. She held the dark purple ribbon in one hand and was gathering her hair in one as she tied up her hair she heard heavy footsteps and looked over. “Whaddya doin’ Mousy?” She heard a familiar deep voice asked as she finished tieing the ribbon, Jack was the only one who had been calling her mousy and she found it endearing. Jack had been hanging around her alot more often and she had even started talking more, she told him about how she ended up on the street. Basically her dad told her to get lost and so she did. She had opened up to Jack and in return he did too. The other guys would always make comments and jokes about how Jack was falling for her, she didn’t believe them they were just toying around, weren’t they?

“Hard day for sale’s huh?” She noticed he had a couple papers tucked under her upper arm. “Yeah, wait how’d you sell all of ‘em?” He asked and she smiled gently, a small action that had a big impact on Jack. “I guess I’m just better than you at it.” She said with a smirk as she picked up her last newspaper glancing around, the streets had filtered out and seemed to be empty. She could almost hear the ruckus caused by the newsies waiting to sell back their left over papers. “It’s only ‘cause your a beaut’, doll.” He said leaning against a bar infront of her, she smiled as her face faded to red she rolled her eyes and her small frame ducked under his arm walking past him.

She was used to his flirting at this point, I mean he does it with all the girls so she shouldn’t be so surprised but the way he spoke when he flirted made her shiver and go weak, she tried to keep her composure but she could never keep her fair skin from going red. She smiled gently, “I need to sell my papers back and then go to Medda’s. She’s paying me double today.” She said as excitement tinged her voice he smiled as he turned and walked with her. “What is with you, you’s is so passionate about singin’.” He said looking over as she shrugged. “It’s just something about getting all dolled up and singing in front of a crowd that gives you a rush, ya’ know?” She said looking up at him as he nodded.

“Hey..” He said in a questioning tone as she raised an eyebrow. “Yeah Jack?” She said with a smile as he sighed he looked like he had something important to say but he quickly turned and continued. “What are you singin’ tonight?” He said scratching his neck as she could see the tips of his ears grow red. “La Vie En Rose” She said in a charming accent as she held her newspaper to her chest dreamily. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and a grin snaked onto his face as he watched her with an adoring look. “You should totally come.” She said gently laying her delicate hand onto his shoulder. “Just, don’t bring the other newsies. It’s embarrassin’ enough without the guys.” Jack laughed slightly and nodded. “I’ll see.” he said as they walked past the gate and to the newspaper stand being greeted by the newsies.

<3------------------------------------------<3

“What’s ya’ damage, Jack?” Romeo asked as he leaned against the nearest brick wall. “Whad’ya mean?” Jack said turning to him with an offended look, “I mean, you’s is clearly infatuated with the dark haired beauty.” He said as Jack rolled his eyes. “Your wrong, I’m not.” Jack said crossing his arms as Crutchie patted his shoulder. “He’s right Jack, and it’s kind obvious she likes you too.” Crutchie said as Jack looked over with hope in his eyes. “Wait really? You best not be playin’.” Jack said as Crutchie smiled earnestly. “Well, what am I supposed to say to her.” He said looking back to the newsies. “Ya’ll know how Mousy is, she’s real shy.” Jack said as Romeo shrugged and Les stood on a nearby stool. “You take her hand and you say. ‘I love you’, Simple.” The small boy said with a proud smile as Jack punched his shoulder lightly. “I can’t just do that Kiddo, but thanks for trying. I gotta get goin’ anyway so I can see Mousy perfo- perfectly normally.” Jack said turning and walking away as the newsies shared a look they began following him silently hatching a plan.

<3------------------------------------------<3

The light pink tool(the fluffy material in ballet dresses) of the dress reached down to above her knees and the sleeves, also made from tool, slipped down to her upper arms. She looked in the mirror as she pulled out the purple ribbon and held it to her chest with a smile sitting it down, she sighed as she patted the dress down spinning around, the dress spun up in an elegant movement as she smiled and walked out to be greeted with Medda, directing people on where to go. She looked her up and down with a proud smile, “You’re gonna be wonderful doll.” She said cupping her cheek as Y/n smiled up at her.

<3------------------------------------------<3

Jack was standing near the door to the theater when he glanced around and noticed the newsies, he sighed gently as they walked up to him. “Hey Jack, weren’t you going to see Mouse, why are you here.” Crutchie asked as Jack sighed. “She told me not to tell you guys, mostly because she’s embarrassed but-” Les gasped as he looked up. “Your dating.” He assumed as Jack looked bewildered. “NO! She’s a performer.” He said as they all gasped and practically stampeded in. “Guys!” Jack yelled. “We have to be quiet, she can’t know we’re all here.” Jack said as they entered the theater, they could see the empty stage getting set up and the auditorium was not too heavily filled with people but enough to be proud of. ‘She’s gonna kill me.’ Jack thought as the light went out and there was quiet shuffling. The newsies stood in the back of the theater leaning onto the chairs. Quiet music began to play as the lights rised onstage and revealed Y/n, stunning as ever, her hair flowed a little below her shoulders and there was a glimmer in her eyes that made Jack swoon. The guys all collectively gasped as they quietly murmured. ‘That’s her?’ ‘She’s gorgeous.’

♪ ‘Hold me close, and love me fast’

She began as the boys looked astonished at her voice, she slid across the stage gracefully, her body moved on its own as she sang. Jack was entranced by her as she moved with such beauty, he watched as her eyes subtly scanned the crowd for him not being able to see much with the lights shining on her she continued hoping he was there.Jack’s mind swirled with thoughts of him being there with her dancing with her, holding her in his arms as she twirled. He sighed quietly as he leaned his chin onto his fore arms that crossed over a seat in front of him.

♪ ‘and when you speak angels sing up above.

Everyday words seem to turn into love songs’

She sang as she seemed to notice him in the crowd she came to a stop with a twirl as they locked eyes.

‘Give your heart and soul to me, and life will always be le vie en ro~ose’

She let out a long quiet breath as she smiled subtly at Jack and the lights went down. There were loud claps and applause as Jack stood up glancing over to the Newsies and walked out headed backstage. He walked back and waved at Medda as she walked toward her.

“Hey, you did great Mousy.” He said as she turned to him with a smile. “Thanks Jack.” She said smiling up at him as she pulled a tattered rag up to her face and began to wipe off the makeup as Jack sat on the table that held the mirror just watching her as she cracked her neck and stretched grabbing the purple ribbon and tying up her hair. She stood up and walked over to the chair that held her clothes as she awkwardly looked over to Jack.

“H-hey, can you maybe like look the other way?” She asked as he glanced over. “Huh- oh, yeah sure.” he said turning around as she pulled off the dress slipping on her normal clothes that consisted of typical boots, pants and a button up beige shirt with a vest. She turned around while buttoning it up. “You’re okay.” She said as she buttoned up her shirt, he turned around just barely seeing her pale chest as she finished buttoning it she buttoned her vest and sat down to lace up her boots. “Hey, Y/n. Can I tell you about somethin’?” He said as she looked up worried. “You never call me Y/n, what’s wrong?” She said as she finished tieing her boots she stood walking over to him. She took his hands in hers looking up at him with worry as he glanced down at their hands and up to her eyes quietly. She blushed as she gently pulled away her hands he quickly grabbed her hands again interlacing their fingers.

“Mousy, I- I’ve..” he spoke nervously as she glanced at their hands blushing darkly. “I just..” He took a deep breath and looked down at her as the silence suffocated her she seemed to search his eyes for answers she unconsciously bit her lip as his eyes snapped down to her lips and back to her eyes as he leaned over pressing his lips against hers, she jumped slightly and squeaked as she slowly melted into it tilting her head she kissed back gently as he pulled away slowly. “Jack” She whispered looking up at him as he took a deep breath. “I like you, alot.” He said as she giggled lightly. “Me too.” She said pecking his lips.

They pulled away slowly as they heard shuffling near the door and Y/n looked up at him and walked over opening the door, all the boys fell in as she turned around with her hands on her hips looking at Jack. “...explain this.” She said as he looked between her and the boys. “Hi Mouse.” Davey said as they all stood up, helping Crutchie up. “We kinda forced Jack to bring us to your show.” Romeo explained, as Jack nodded. “We also think your a really good singe-” Y/n scoffed. “Save the brown nosin’.” She said as Romeo nodded. “Sorry.” They said as Y/n laughed and Jack shooed them as Y/n turned around to face Jack with a smile all the guys started making silent kissing faces as Jack huffed lightly and they all ran out laughing. Y/n turned and saw the guys leave and rolled her eyes. She laughed and stood on the tips of her toes kissing him as his hand held her up by the small of her back, when they separated a small pleased smile snaked onto their faces alike as they made their way out of the theater.

#Newsies #Mouse #pt.2 #Jack Kelly #Jeremy Jordan #X reader #fanfiction #jack kelly x reader #jack kelly fanfiction #Crutchie #Medda #Musical #theatre #Romeo #newsie #girlsie #gender #girl

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