#{YOU HAVE TO KNOW THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN THE BILLIES BECAUSE NOT EVERY BILLE CHARACTER CAN BE ROSE} | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fandom-imagines-stories · 4 years

Text

We’re All Changing

Billy Hicks x Reader

Words: 4065

Summary: One big mistake sends your life completely over the edge and your friends try to help you put the pieces back together. Your best friend Billy is by your side every step and the barriers that you put around your friendship start to crumble.

Notes: I really really love this movie, but this is going to be another imagine that isn’t for everyone. I love the bond between these fucked up people, and I will be writing the characters, including the reader, as such. There’s something about Alec and Billy and Jules and everybody in this movie that I love. (this is kind of a mess, but I hope you like it)

Warnings: Cheating, lots of alcohol, overall angst, and lots and lots of drama.

Find Other 80s imagines HERE

You opened the door before he even had a chance to knock.

“I didn’t know who else to call.” Your face was red from crying and your hair was a mess. It definitely wasn’t the best condition he’d ever seen you in… but it definitely wasn’t the worst, either. Billy sat on the sofa and you curled up beside him. The strong smell of cheap wine and cigarette smoke hung around you as you laid your head on his chest and let him wrap his arms around you. That was the thing with Billy. It didn’t matter what was wrong. He didn’t need to know why, he would drop whatever he was doing if he knew you were upset about something. And this wasn’t just something, he could tell. This was big.

“You want to tell me what’s going on?” He asked gently. Sure, half the time Billy was a total douche. But he was your best friend so you were the one who got to see his soft side the most.

“I fucked up… everything.” You sat up and his arms fell to his sides. “I really really screwed up, Billy.”

“No way, Little Miss Perfect doesn’t screw up.” He smirked. It was supposed to be funny, but you started to cry. Billy sighed and pulled you back to him. “Hey, I’m sorry. That was a stupid thing to say.”

“I-I can’t tell anyone else.” You barely managed to get the words out between sobs. Now he was scared.

“Y/N, are you in some kind of trouble? Did somebody hurt you?” It usually took a lot to freak him out, but if you were in trouble, all bets were off. You shook your head.

“Billy, I…” You buried your face in your hands, too ashamed to have him look at you. “I fucked someone I met at the bar last night.” He leaned back on the couch, feeling guilty for being so relieved.

“Oh.” It took a moment for him to get rid of all the horrible scenarios he had in his head. “Who, uh, who was it?” You let out a sob.

“That’s the thing Billy. I don’t even know who it was.” You were crying pretty hard now, still hiding your face. “I don’t even know his name.”

“Hey.” Billy brought your hands away and lifted your chin with his finger. “You know that I am the last person to judge you for anything. Let alone something like this.” You gave him a look. He laughed. “Come on, I’m not exactly the posterboy for monogamy here, Y/N.”

“I just…” You took a deep breath, trying to get the words out as clearly as you could. “I was drunk and I was angry and this guy started flirting with me. We ended up doing it in the back of his car like a couple of highschoolers.” You picked up the wine bottle on the coffee table and took a swig. “I just feel so dirty, you know?”

“You’re not-” He stopped at the sound of the front door opening. Your stomach twisted up in knots. Your fiance.

“You should probably go.” Saying Rodney didn’t like Billy was the understatement of the year. He hated him. You couldn’t deal with one of their fights again. As much as Billy would have loved to get under Hot Rod’s skin, he didn’t want to make things worse for you.

“We’ll talk more later, okay?” He gave your hand a reassuring squeeze before he scrambled out the and down the fire escape. He just wasn’t fast enough.

Billy Hicks had been your best friend since you were sixteen. When you weren’t bailing him out of trouble, you were right there with him. He was even your date to senior prom when your boyfriend got caught smoking weed in the locker room. When you found out you were going to college together, you threw yourselves a party that lasted two days.

You’d met Rodney junior year of college at a party that Billy dragged you to. He proposed the day you graduated and you had been so excited to be the first of the group to get married. Well, besides Billy. You were the first person he’d told when Felicia got pregnant. Hell, you were one of the witnesses when they got married. You were there for him the day Melody was born. Now that you needed him to be there for you, you knew you couldn’t let him. Everything was different now.

Rodney’s smile had something off about it as he pulled you in for a kiss. And his eyes had that look he got before he was about to blow.

“You think I don’t know, don’t you?” He spat. “You fucking whore.”

“W-what?”

“When Bill told me he saw you leave the bar with some guy, you know, I had to keep myself from thinking it was him.” He threw his briefcase across the room. “But you brought him here! Billy Hicks was fucking my fiance in my apartment!” His face was turning bright red and his voice was so loud it actually hurt your ears. There was a reason everybody called him Hot Rod...

“Rodney, I just let me explain-”

“Explain what? That you’ve been fucking Billy this whole time?”

“It wasn’t Billy!” You screamed. You were getting angry now. “What about all those girls you’ve been screwing at your office? Huh, Rodney? I have forgiven you for all of them, but the minute I slip up, you come down on me!”

“We are not talking about me here.” This is what you’d fought about that night. You finally asked him about the girls at work and he pretended like it meant nothing. Maybe that’s why you slept with that guy. For it to mean something. Rodney took a deep breath. “I want you out of the apartment by the time I get back from work tomorrow. And you can find somewhere else to stay tonight.”

“What?” You gasped, feeling like the breath was knocked out of you.

“Pack up your stuff and go.” He turned on his heel and slammed the bedroom door behind him.

You had to get out of there. You needed to run. This couldn’t be happening. You grabbed your Georgetown sweatshirt off the couch and got out of there before Rodney went off again, because you knew he would. It was getting late, but you didn’t care. You needed to run.

When your mind stopped spinning, you took in your surroundings. It was cold and it was starting to rain. Shit. It didn’t help that every alley way you looked down had some dark shape that you could have sworn was a person. To keep yourself calm, you tried to imagine yourself in the safest place you could think of. You quickly shook the thought out of your head when all you could picture was being tucked away in Billy’s arms. When a group of the dark shapes started to move toward you, you ran a little faster until you found a payphone.

“Alec Newbury.” The voice answered groggily.

“Alec? C-could you come and pick me up? I went for a run and I wasn’t paying attention and now I don’t know where I am and now I feel like someone is following me-” The words tumbled out of your mouth before you could think.

“Okay, slow down. Do you see any signs? Any businesses or anything?” He swung his legs over the side of the bed and put on his shoes. Leslie turned over, watching him grab his keys with the phone still pressed against his ear.

“Is everything okay?” She whispered. He shrugged.

“I think I’m not too far from St. Elmo’s.” You stated, the rain starting to make you shiver. “Could you just meet me there?” You sounded more frustrated than scared, which made him panic a little less.

“I’ll be right there.”

You took cover under the bar’s awning. You couldn’t tell if the shiver running down your spine was from the cold or from the feeling of somebody watching you. A chorus of voices and footsteps was getting closer and you shrunk back into the shadows, clutching your keys in your hand. You braced yourself as a group approached. The voices changed to laughter as the group of college aged boys stumbled drunkenly passed you. You let out a sigh of relief. Were you this paranoid in college?

Alec pulled up next to the curb and you scrambled inside.

“You okay?” He asked, taking off his jacket to give to you as you stripped out of your soaking sweatshirt. “What the hell are you doing running this time of night anyway?” He noticed that it wasn’t just rain on your cheeks. You had been crying.

Alec was your best friend in a different way than Billy. Alec was like the group’s big brother. He bailed you out of trouble almost as much as he bailed out Billy. He was the responsible one. The one everybody called when they got too drunk at a party, or when they were stuck in the rain. Or when they couldn’t go home anymore.

“I just wanted to clear my head.” You shrugged. You couldn’t tell him. Billy supported you no matter what, but you couldn’t bear disappointing Alec. He raised a brow. “I had a weird day, alright?”

“Did Hot Rod do something?”

“Come on, Alec, you know he hates being called that.”

“Did he do something or not?”

“No, he didn’t do anything.” You lied, running your fingers through your dripping hair, getting more frustrated by the second. If you told Alec, you knew what he would think. What a shame. I thought things were going so well. I didn’t know she was a slut. “I just… I don’t want to go home right now.” Of course, only one place came to mind. Billy’s. But you couldn’t. There were lines of your friendship that you couldn’t cross. Barging in on him and Felicia was one of them.

“I’ll set up a place for you to sleep at my apartment.” Alec sighed. He just wanted to know what was going on. There was a reason they all called him ‘Hot Rod’. His temper was short and he could get mean when he was angry. In all honesty, everybody in the group only put up with him because you were together.

“Thank you, Alec.” You said quietly as he opened the door to his apartment after spending the rest of the car ride in silence. He looked over to see you staring at the floor. A tear slipped down your face and fell to the carpet.

“Hey,” He put a hand on your shoulder. “Everything is gonna sort itself out, okay?” You raised your head and gave him a small smile, wishing you were as sure as he was.

The next morning, Alec drove you back to your apartment without asking any more questions. The more he asked you, he knew the more you’d just cover up what was really going on. He’d have to find out a different way.

“You know you can call me and Leslie if anything happens, right?” He said suddenly before you got out of the car. You nodded and quickly kissed his cheek to say thank you. He watched you walk in before he drove off, reminding himself to call Billy and see what he knew. The two of you were inseparable and if something was going on, Billy would know every detail. You stood outside the building with a building sense of dread.

You should have seen this coming. Everybody else did. Your tears had let up by the time you got the last box in the back of your car. Your mind was so occupied, that you didn’t even see the person approaching you.

“He didn’t.” Billy sighed as you slammed the trunk closed. You gave him a weak shrug.

“He said I have until he gets back from work to get all of my things.” At least you had stopped crying. You felt stupid enough as it was. “I called Wendy and she said I could move in with her until I can find my own place, so that’s where I’m headed.”

“I’ll help you.” He said, more of a statement than an offer.

“Billy you don’t have to-”

“Y/N.” He gave you a determined stare, those blue eyes melting your heart as he put a hand on your cheek. “I’m not leaving you alone for this.” You looked into his eyes for a little too long. You quickly got into the car without saying anything you would regret. Like how Rodney thought the guy was Billy.

It was a pact you made your senior year of high school. You said that the only way to never screw up your friendship was to never screw around with each other. While there’s been brief kisses and fleeting touches, it never went further than that. Ever. You both accepted that. Rodney knew that, but he’d always said he didn’t believe it. He would tease you about what you’d told him about high school. About that prom that Billy rented a suit at the last minute to be your date. About the time Billy beat up a handful of guys on the football team when they were harassing you at a party. About how Billy was your first kiss after that fight, sophomore year under a street lamp in the rain. Rodney said there was no way nothing ever happened. You never told him how much you had wanted something to.

You got to Wendy’s apartment and Billy started grabbing boxes before you could stop him. At least you had an extra pair of hands. It took less than an hour to get all of your things up the stairs, but you didn’t have that much to begin with. Wendy was at work, so she had given you a spare key to let yourself in. You set all the boxes down before you could feel yourself breaking down again. You had failed. How could a person fuck up this much by the age of 22?

“This is a pretty nice place.” Billy noted, turning around to see the tears on your face. He just held out his arms and you ran to him. “Everything is going to turn out okay. You know that everybody is here for you. Hell, I’m surprised Jules hasn’t stormed his office yet.” He chuckled and you felt his chest rise and fall. He pulled back slightly. “And you’ve got me. Always.”

You don’t know if it was your emotional state or years of holding back that made you kiss him. But once you started, you just couldn’t stop. And neither could he. One of you found a bottle of wine in the fridge and everything just became a mess of drinking, kissing, taking off each other’s clothes.

“God, I can’t believe it has taken us this long.” Billy sighed, falling back onto the sofa.

“Don’t even get me started.”

You’re pretty sure you were still drunk when you woke up with Billy’s body pressed against yours, his breath lightly blowing against the back of your neck as he slept. Shit.

“Shit shit shit shit shit.” You whispered to yourself, trying to move, but he was holding onto you pretty tightly. This couldn’t happen. The gates you had kept closed for so many years came flooding open and you were forced to face a truth you’d been denying since high school. You loved him. And not in a best-friend kind of way. You wanted him. More than anything you could ever remember wanting. Maybe that’s the real reason you cheated on Rodney. How fucked up is that?

“Hey.” You could hear the satisfied smirk in his voice as his arms shifted around you. “You want another drink?” At least he was enjoying this. He’d probably forget it in the morning. You forced yourself out of his embrace and he gave you a confused look.

“We promised we would never do this.” You muttered, gathering up your clothes.

“What?”

“There’s a reason that we never went past kissing, Billy!” You hadn’t meant to yell, but your brain was too hazy to care. “We made a pact that we would never fuck and now everything is different.”

“Why does it have to be different?” Of course this didn’t mean anything to him. Why should have you expected something else?

“It’s different because I-” You couldn’t say it. If sleeping together didn’t ruin your friendship, saying it would. You threw on your pants and Billy started to get up from the couch as you pulled your shirt over your head.

“Can you just wait a second?” He huffed, but your hand was on the door handle already. You were going to Kevin’s. If anybody could talk you out of being in love with your best friend, it was Kevin. Billy grabbed your hand. “Y/N.”

“This was a mistake.” You snapped and slammed the door behind you, passing a very confused Wendy on the way down the stairs.

Wendy didn’t have to unlock her apartment door. Billy emerged, pulling his shirt over his head. She froze.

“You too…”

“Not now, Wendy.” He huffed, storming down the hall.

He went to Jules’ to talk. Jules was honest. He knew she wouldn’t bullshit him. He didn’t anticipate the slap, though.

“You did what?” She shrieked.

“We slept together.” He repeated, rubbing his cheek. She looked like she was going to hit him again so he ducked. “Look, I thought you guys were all waiting for this to happen, why are you so surprised?”

“Because I figured if you guys slept together you would be together, Billy.” She yanked him into her apartment.

“Could you keep your voice down, my head is killing me.” He whined. Man, how much did the two of you drink?

“Billy, do you know what this is going to do to her?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Why do you think you guys have never done it before?” She gave him an accusing stare. He did come over here for her honesty, which was his own fault. He thought for a moment.

“We made this promise in school that we wouldn’t.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know-”

“Because you didn’t want to screw up your friendship by screwing!”

“Again, Jules, with the yelling.”

“Billy, she’s in love with you.” Jules finally blurted. “She has been since high school.” Before Billy could respond, Jules’ phone started ringing. She glared at him and motioned for him to sit on the couch before answering. “Alec?”

There was a long pause and Jules’ face changed. Her eyes got wide and stared at Billy with an expression that was unusual for her. Worry.

“Okay, Alec, slow down. Billy is with me right now and we’ll be right there. I’m sure everything is going to be fine. I’ll see you there.” Jules immediately grabbed the keys to her jeep and pulled Billy off of the couch. “We have to go.”

“What’s going on?”

“Everybody is heading to the hospital. We have to go now.”

“Jules, what the hell are you-”

“Y/N crashed her car.” She stated bluntly, though the panic in her voice was real. “Alec is freaking out. He says they don’t know if she’s okay or not because the doctors won’t tell him anything because he isn’t family.” Billy hardly processed a word. All he understood was that Y/N was in the hospital. And it was his fault.

Alec was pacing like a madman. He knew something was wrong. He knew it. He should have said something. When he saw Jules rushing down the hall with Billy in tow, he had to restrain himself from screaming at him right there. He grabbed him by the color and pulled him into the men’s room.

“What happened?” He questioned, his tone actually kind of frightening. Billy shoved him off.

“How should I know?”

“Because she tells you everything!” Alec was scared. Really scared. Y/N was like his sister. Billy just never realised how much she meant to him. “Billy, I picked Y/N up walking in the rain in the middle of the night last night. She was a mess. And now, she crashes her car? I overheard the cops saying something about alcohol in her system. What the hell happened?”

Billy started to walk away. He couldn’t deal with the accusing glares anymore. Alec just scoffed and crossed his arms.

“Do you even care?” Billy froze.

“What did you say?”

“I said do you even care?” Alec’s stare was cold and Billy just snapped. He walked back towards Alec with clenched fists.

“Because I couldn’t possibly care about anything right? Billy’s the group fuck up who only cares about himself. Is that it?” He pushed Alce backwards. “Is that it!”

“Billy-”

“Billy couldn’t love anybody. He just isn’t capable. He doesn’t love his kid, he doesn’t love his friends, he can’t love the girl he’s wanted to be with since high school!” He had Alec backed into the corner now. He was breathing heavily from yelling and Alec’s expression had softened.

“I didn’t know.” Alec said sympathetically.

“Yeah, well, none of you know.” Billy huffed, shoving his fists in his pockets and walking out.

Kevin and Kirby were back with coffee for everyone and Wendy had stopped crying. Leslie had finally found someone who could give some information as to what was going on. Billy kept his distance from everyone, leaning against the waiting room wall. When Alec joined everyone, he gave him an apologetic look which Billy ignored. Everybody was tense. Even Jules’ easy-going demeanor had dimmed with worry. Leslie came away from the nurse and everyone gathered around her.

“They said we can go back and see her. She’s got a couple of scraps and bruises and a mild concussion, but she’s going to be fine.” A collective sigh of relief filled the air. Everyone was eager to go back, but Alec put up a hand to stop them.

“I think Billy should have a moment alone.” He gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. Billy nodded and wandered the halls until he found the room. You were sitting up on the bed, head in your hands.

“Knock knock.”

You looked up as Billy entered with an awkward smile on his face. You were off the bed and in his arms in the blink of an eye. He laughed and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“I guess you should have let me drive.” You punched his arm, but it made you laugh through your tears nonetheless. He pushed back and forced you to look at him. “What were you thinking?” You just shrugged.

“I wasn’t.” You sat down on the side of the hospital bed and he sat beside you. “When I woke up and you were the one holding me, I realized that I didn’t want anyone else to ever hold me like that. I just wanted you. So I figured Kevin could talk me out of it.”

“Ah, good old Kevin.” Billy noted humorously, but his expression was serious.

“I’m sorry about this morning. I screwed up everything else in my life. I just didn’t want to lose you.”

“You’re not getting rid of me, Y/N.” He smiled. “Besides, you're not the only one to screw up.”

“What do you mean?”

“We got the annulment. Felisha’s getting remarried in a couple of weeks to a guy who can actually take care of her and Melody.” He knew it was the right thing. He was never going to be the father she needed. You blew out a breath.

“I just want everything to go back to the way it was. Not with Rodney, but just the way we all were in college. Fearless. Stupid. Young.” You sighed. Billy put a comforting hand on your knee and you laid your head on his shoulder.

“We’re all changing. And maybe it’s for the better, maybe it’s not, but it’s happening.”

You sat for a moment, taking in his words. He was right. You couldn’t stop life from happening. And while you didn’t know what the two of you were anymore, you knew that you would always have him.

General Tag: @rae-gar-targaryen; @takemepedropascal; @childhood-imagination; @mylovegoesto;

#i'm a ho for rob lowe #st. elmo's fire #billy hicks #rob lowe #80s #i love the 80s #billy hicks x reader #80s imagines #rob lowe x reader

80 notes · View notes

nitrateglow · 4 years

Text

My god-tier Audrey Hepburn movies

I just realized I��ve technically seen all of Audrey Hepburn’s movies-- or rather, all the movies in which she was given star billing.

So, because I’m bored, here’s a list of my top ten personal favorites of her films. The criteria is simple: 1) she had to have starred in it, so nothing from her pre-Roman Holiday career counts nor does 1989′s Always, and 2) this is based on my level of enjoyment of the movie in question.

1. Wait Until Dark

Wait Until Dark possesses many merits, but Hepburn is one of its key strengths. For me, the most interesting performances are the ones able to balance seemingly opposing elements of the character in question. Here, Hepburn balances vulnerability with inner strength, insecurity and terror with courage, angry frustration with budding confidence. She makes her character seem like such a real, vital presence, like someone you would know. Also, having someone as sweet as Hepburn as the target for the cruel mind games and brutal violence of the villains makes the horror all the more terrifying.

Beyond her performance, this movie feels like it was tailor-designed to appeal to me: an intelligent and formidable villain, the everyday setting juxtaposed with a menacing atmosphere, scary scenes that don’t rely on gore, eccentric criminals, dark humor, a tight script without an ounce of fat on it. But you’ve heard me go on, so I’ll leave it there.

2. Charade

Charade is a prime example of how to mix suspense and comedy. The mystery at the heart of the movie is very clever, with twists and turns every other moment, constantly keeping the audience on their toes. Best of all, the film holds up after repeat viewings because of the delicious chemistry between Hepburn and Cary Grant, and the witty screenplay, which has such an elegant and tight structure that I seethe with envy as a writer every time I revisit this glorious thriller.

As in Wait Until Dark, Hepburn is concerned for her life as she’s terrorized by criminals, only here, they’re mostly more humorous in nature, sometimes even lovable (except Scobie, he can just jump off a cliff). She mainly gets to exercise her comedic chops, throwing off quips, sarcastic lines, and screwball banter with wonderful finesse. It makes me sad she never made more films with Cary Grant-- the two have a spark that belies the large age gap between them.

3. Roman Holiday

The character-building, naturalistic performances, and humor make Roman Holiday one of the best examples of romantic comedy. The film has both a gentle touch and a grounded maturity that make it more than just a remix of the earlier and quite similar screwball comedy It Happened One Night. To get a bit literary and pretentious, it reminds me a bit of Romeo and Juliet-- not because of the romance, but in how the movie starts as a standard screwball comedy and ends on a lyrical, wistful note you might not have expected.

Even though this was her first lead role in a feature film, I think Hepburn’s performance as Ann remains one of her strongest. Ann feels regal and dignified while also possessing the naivete and restlessness of a teenager on the brink of adulthood. It’s as fabulous a star-establishing movie as anyone could want.

4. How to Steal a Million

How to Steal a Million is pure fun. Not a moment of this caper comedy is to be taken seriously (which makes it the perfect quarantine movie if you need something to de-stress with). I always regard this movie as Charade’s even frothier spiritual successor: both films are playful, stylish, funny, and packed with romantic banter, plot twists, and colorful 1960s fashions. The main difference is that in this one, there’s no mortal threat involved and the humor gets a little more risque though not crass.

Also, how nice is it for Hepburn to be paired with a leading man closer to her age? Peter O’Toole was only three years younger than Hepburn when this was filmed. The two of them have glorious, cute chemistry.

5. The Nun’s Story

I hate the question of “objective best” anything, but if you put a gun to my head, I would say The Nun’s Story is features Hepburn’s most impressive work as an actress. For those who accuse Hepburn of being too affected, of being a mere clothes’ horse, here she is bare-faced, dressed in a nun’s habit, and playing a very reserved character whose dilemmas are largely internal. She plays her character’s spiritual conflict with an understatement that could only be considered skillful.

The film itself will likely be seen as “too slow” by most and there are a few colonial elements towards the Congo section that date it, but the film’s strengths, both from Hepburn’s performance and the mature way it presents its individual versus the system story, give it classic status. Few movies regarding organized religion are this balanced and lacking in propaganda, either for or against it.

6. Breakfast at Tiffany’s

While still Hepburn’s most iconic role, Breakfast at Tiffany’s gets called “overrated” a lot these days and fans of the original Truman Capote novella routinely dog it for making heavy changes to the source material. There’s also the, you know, gross yellowface a la Mickey Rooney that deflates every scene in which he appears. However, is the move bad? NO. It juggles zany comedy, tender romance, and rather heavy drama too well for me to consign it to the “overrated” bin. Blake Edwards was a fine director and this movie is one of his best.

And Hepburn gives a damn good performance as Holly Golightly, even if she is not the character envisioned by Capote. This character could easily be unlikable if played the wrong way-- she’s a “phony,” rather pathetic, and self-loathing despite her wit and charm. But rather than coming off as an unbearable loser, Hepburn’s Holly is a realistic, relatable loser we all love in spite of her own delusions and lashing out. She might even hit too close to home (or maybe that’s just me).

7. Funny Face

Funny Face took a few viewings to grow on me. It was one of the first Hepburn movies I ever saw (that was back in high school) and I was initially excited because it was directed by Stanley Donen who co-directed Singin’ in the Rain with Gene Kelly, a long-time favorite of mine. I expected this movie to be just as sublime and was disappointed when it didn’t hit that high mark.

Rewatching it later, I now find it very charming. It’s incredibly upbeat and relaxing, the sort of old-school movie musical that doesn’t get made anymore. Hepburn’s singing is a bit rough in the bigger numbers, but she is very sweet, a damn good dancer, and quite attractive to the point where she just takes my breath away. Fred Astaire and Kay Thompson are also wonderful and get a lot of great moments that show off their talent.

8. My Fair Lady

When considering what would go on this list, I was honestly shocked to realize how much I like this movie. I’m in the camp that considers Hepburn miscast, I find George Cukor’s direction rather stiff, and I really don’t like how the ending is changed from the original play. In spite of all this, I still really enjoy this movie for the songs, costumes, and what remains of Shaw’s brilliant satire on class and gender relations. Those three hours go by and the movie never outstays its welcome.

While I think Hepburn wasn’t the number one best choice for the part (I don’t really buy her as a crass flower girl in the beginning), she isn’t a disaster by any means. She’s still charming and sympathetic, and once she makes her transformation, you have to wonder how Higgins held it together, she’s so gorgeous. And I love the relish with which she approaches the “Just you Wait” song or the way she delivers the “move your bloomin’ arse” line at the races.

9. Sabrina

I think producers figured because of the fairy tale appeal of Roman Holiday, Hepburn would be perfect for this modern take on Cinderella, set in 1950s New York. Just like in Roman Holiday, Hepburn gets to undergo dramatic character development and show her comedic skills. It’s a cute movie, with a very charming William Holden and gorgeous black-and-white cinematography. It’s also shockingly uncynical for a Billy Wilder project.

About the closest thing this movie has to a flaw is Humphrey Bogart as Linus, the guy who Sabrina chooses in the end. This is a role Cary Grant could have played in his sleep, but Bogart clearly is not enjoying himself in some scenes. However, he isn’t movie-breakingly bad by any means. His character is meant to be a hidden softie and far more dependable than his handsomer brother, so I can buy that Sabrina would warm to him in the end.

10. They All Laughed

People tend to argue what the last “worthwhile” Hepburn movie is. Most argue it’s 1976′s Robin and Marian, while I’ve seen some go as far back as How to Steal a Million in 1966. They All Laughed, a Peter Bogdonavich comedy from 1981, gets my vote. This is a love letter to screwball comedies much like Bogdonavich’s 1972 classic What’s Up Doc, only with a far more melancholy edge.

Hepburn does not become a major presence in the movie until nearly halfway through. However, she approaches her role with a mature dignity that makes me wish she’d done more work along this line towards the end of her career. Her character comes off as an older, sadder Princess Ann from Roman Holiday. This makes the movie sound morose, but it isn’t: it ends with life going on and the characters accepting that with grace.

#lists lists lists #charade #roman holiday #how to steal a million #the nun's story #breakfast at tiffany's #funny face #my fair lady #sabrina #they all laughed #audrey hepburn #thoughts #wait until dark #old hollywood #i'll probably make more lists like these with other actors i like #so expect a buster post guys

124 notes · View notes

blackmissfrizzle · 4 years

Text

Two Sides of the Same Coin

Summary: The reader unexpectedly falls in love with two best friends

Characters: Frank Castle x black!reader, Billy Russo x black!reader

Warnings: Violence, language, and smut

WC: 6.5k (yeah, its hella long)

A/N: This is my baby and its finally ready for release. There will be a pt. 2, which revolves around season 2. Be on the lookout for that!

A groan behind the dumpster alerted you. Instinctively, you drew your gun and rounded the corner. Your eyes had to be deceiving you, because right now you were standing in front of a supposed to be dead Punisher.

Tucking your gun back in, you bent down to check on him. “Hey, are you ok?”

“I’m bleeding out lady, do I look okay,” he grunted.

Instead of sassing him back like you usually would, you pulled him up and started walking him up to your condo.

“Hey, lady you don’t have to do this. I’m good.” He protested, trying to push off of you, but too weak to do so.

“Stop calling me lady. My name’s Y/N. And you can’t even walk on your own. Let me stitch you up and then you can leave and finish whatever crusade you’re fighting.”

Frank shut his mouth. He did an okay job at stitching himself up, but it was always better to let someone else do it. Especially, when it’s a beautiful woman such as yourself.

You finally got into your place without getting caught. After, you guided Frank to a seat, you grabbed the first aid kit out of your bathroom.

“What’s a fancy girl like you willing to bring a bleeding man in your place,” Frank questioned after taking in your condo. Women who lived in places like these typically stayed away from men who looked like him currently. They usually clutch their purse and have 911 on speed dial.

“You’re not the first bloody man I’ve brought up here and you certainly won’t be the last. And plus, I know who you are, Frank,” you took a break from cleaning his wound to look up at him to show him you had no ill-intentions. “Whatever you’re doing now has to still do with your family and I totally get it. I didn’t stop hunting down the men who killed my sister.” You explained before he could even ask you.

“So, you’re not just some trust fund baby?” Frank joked.

Tugging on the thread a little hard you smiled at his wince. “No, I’m definitely a trust fund baby. I’m just a trust fund baby that knows how to shoot.”

For the first time tonight, he smiled, and you almost poked yourself with the needle. Frank Castle was already a dangerous man, but Frank Castle smiling was a deadly man.

“You know you should smile more,” you said, finishing up the last stitch.

“I haven’t had a reason to in a long time until now.” Frank stared at you for a while, but then he remembered he had to leave, not wanting you to get caught for harboring him.

He grabbed his jacket and limped to the door. “Thanks, Y/N.” He started turning the knob but stopped and looked back at you. “Um, do you mind? Can I- um, shit why is this so hard?” He fumbled with his words and you had to stop laughing, because you could tell Frank wasn’t a man who got nervous easily. “Would it be okay, if I uh, if I come here next time I’m all busted up?”

Going up to him, you reached up to the doorframe and grabbed the spare key. “How about this? You take this key and use it whenever you’re hurt.” You forcefully placed the key in his hand and gently shoved him out the door, because you knew he would reject your offer. “See you later, Frank.”

Since, that first night with Frank you seen him numerous times thanks to his extracurricular activities. Quickly, you two became friends, which probably a hard thing for Frank to do. Conversation between you two were never boring. In fact, most of the time you two spent it laughing. After all the tragedy in his life, you knew Frank needed a ray of light, some semblance of happiness and you were the one to offer it to him.

Sometimes during his visits, he would use you as a sounding board. Your dad ran a private security firm and you worked for him so, you would give him some insight on his missions. He trusted you so much, that he told you where his hideout was with David Liberman was so you could patch him up if he couldn’t make it to you.

During all your time with Frank, you found yourself falling for him. And who could blame you? He was the perfect mix between rough and gentle, serious and goofy, jackass and sweetheart. Your ex was the opposite. Sure, Billy was rough around the edges, but he had a smooth exterior. He could charm a homeless man into giving him his last dollar.

That’s how Billy ended up in your home even though you had a bleeding Frank locked in your spare bedroom. He charmed himself in.

“So, what is it that you want Bill? I’m tired and I’ve got a long day ahead of me tomorrow.”

He knelt in front of you and grabbed your hands. “I miss you. I want us to get back together, baby.”

Knocking his hands away, you stood up from the couch. “Bullshit, Billy! Didn’t I just see you with that curly-haired DHS agent a couple of months ago?”

Billy smirked at your jealously. He knew you would never admit it, but he still affected you. Hell, you still affected him. “She reminded me of you a bit and I thought I could stay with a poor reminder of you, but I can’t. You’ve been in my mind every fucking day and I can’t get you out no matter how many other women I fucked.” He lifted his hand to stop you from interrupting him. “I know I messed up, but baby I was in a dark place then and I’m better now. I need you Y/N. I wanna marry you, give you babies, and grow old together. Please, give me one more chance,” he pleaded with a kiss to your hand.

A war was raging inside of you. If Billy would’ve done this a couple of weeks earlier, you probably would’ve taken him back in heartbeat and given him a hard time about it, but now that you were developing feelings for Frank it wasn’t so easy.

“Who is he?” Billy’s voice pulled you from your thoughts.

“Huh? What are you talking about?”

“Who’s the man you’re seeing” Billy annoyingly clarified for you.

You were confused. Why would he think you were seeing anyone? “Not that its any of your business Russo, but I’m not dating anyone. You kind of fucked up dating for me.”

Billy used his height to tower over you to intimidate you as he backed you into the wall. “Fuck that. Remember I can you read you so fucking well. What other man has you hesitating to take me back?”

When you didn’t answer, he kissed you roughly and what a wonderful feeling it was. Billy looked like he would be a gentle lover, but in reality, he was rough, and you loved it. Abruptly, he ended the kiss. “Does he kiss you like that? Does he know how you like to be man-handled? Does he know that you like it doggy-style with your hair pulled?” In between each question he would kiss you with his hands roaming your body.

Someway, somehow you ended up on your couch with Billy on top of you, pulling off each other’s clothes. Both of you were very close to getting naked when Billy’s phone went off. Angrily, he answered the phone and by the sound of it, you wouldn’t be continuing your little rendezvous.

“Work emergency,” he explained while putting his clothes back on. “But this is far from over. I’m picking you up at 9 tomorrow morning for breakfast. No arguments. I love you.”

“Love you too,” you replied back, before he kissed your forehead and rushed out the door.

With one door closing another one opened and you finally remembered about Frank. When he came out, he had a look of despair on his face and you felt so fucking bad. How could you be so inconsiderate of him while he was in pain?

Pushing him to the chair you apologized. “I’m so sorry, Frank. I just get so caught up in Billy that I forget about everything. I should’ve never let him in. I’m sorry.”

Frank grabbed your hands just like Billy did earlier. “No, I’m sorry.”

Now you were definitely confused. Why in the hell is Frank apologizing to you? “Umm for what,” you dragged out.

“You know I used to nag Billy about finding a good woman and settling down, you know the whole quality over quantity thing, and now look at me. I’m falling in love with his girl. Some fucking friend I am.” Frank confessed, keeping his head down.

You couldn’t believe what you just heard. Frank knew Billy. It wasn’t far-fetched, both were in the marines and at the same time. Great, it was just your luck that you fell for two best friends.

“Did you guys meet in the service?” You whispered, not trusting your voice to crack.

Frank shook his head yes. “Yeah, saved my ass more times I can count. He was on that special ops team with me that Rawlins and Schoonover headed.”

Nudging his head, you got Frank to look at you. “Frank, I didn’t know,” remorse filling your voice.

Frank held your face in his hands. “No, no, no. Its not your fault, sweetheart. Just my luck to fall in love with my best friend’s girl, huh?”

“You love me,” you asked, tears pricking your eyes.

“Oh yeah, who wouldn’t? But I already had my chance at happiness, now its Billy’s turn. You won’t see me again. I’ll get Liberman to fix me up.” Frank claimed, walking towards your door.

You grabbed his hand to try to pull him back, but he snatched his hand away with ease despite being hurt. “Frank don’t do this,” you pleaded with him.

Nodding his head to himself, he looked down at the ground. “I got to. Billy needs you. He needs a strong woman in his life. If you can make an angry, bitter fuck like me happy, you definitely can do the same for Bill. I can’t be around you, because I’ll do my best to keep you for myself.”

The both of you let reality sink in. This would be the last time you’d see Frank Castle. Just before he crossed the doorway, he slammed the door shut, gripped your face and backed you against the door. “Shit, I’m gonna regret it if I don’t do this.” Suddenly, his lips were on yours and it was divine. His kiss was gentle, but no less dominant or passionate than Billy’s. He just expressed it in a different way.

Before you got to truly relish in the kiss, Frank released your lips and leaned his forehead against yours. “Take care of Bill for me, ok,” and with one last kiss to your forehead Frank was gone.

Billy stood by the gate staring daggers at a cuffed Frank. Only if Frank would’ve stayed in hiding, he wouldn’t have to deal with all this and could be spending time with you.

“Just ask it, Bill. I know you want to,” Frank told him.

He pushed off the gate and got right in front of Frank’s face. Both men staring each other down in hate. “You screw her, Frank?”

Frank leaned back to take a look at his former best friend, a man he once considered as his brother. He toyed with the idea to lie to him but disregarded it because, he didn’t want to disrespect you by lying on you.

Getting fed up with waiting, Billy asked again with more bass in his voice. “Did you sleep with Y/N, Frankie?”

“No, but I should’ve.”

Billy cocked back his hand and punched Frank. No other man could have you, only him.

The punch didn’t affect Frank one bit. He just laughed it off and egged on Billy. “Man, you messed up, Bill. You lost her. Do you think she could ever forgive you after what you did? Was killing my wife and kids worth you losing the best damn thing in your miserable life!?” Frank ended up screaming in his face.

“My life wasn’t ruined until you decided to start your little revenge mission! I already had the ring picked out, the perfect wedding venue, and her father’s permission, but you ruined that Frank! You dragged the one pure thing in my life into your mess!”

Frank tried to jump up from his chair to get in Billy’s face. “No, you did that all on your own! After Madani found you out at the hotel, she brought Y/N in for questioning. Madani told me she railed into her. She thought Y/N had to know something, but she didn’t. Eventually, Madani believed Y/N and felt bad for her, so she told her the whole truth about you.”

“You’re lying and if you aren’t Y/N didn’t believe a word.” Billy sneered, pointing a gun at Frank.

“I’m not lying, Bill and you’re right…she didn’t believe Madani. Y/N/N didn’t believe it until she talked to me. I used to be able to find solace at Maria’s grave, but it wasn’t enough after I found out you betrayed me. So, I went to Y/N to talk and you wanna know what happened when she opened the door?”

Billy rolled his eyes at Frank’s dramatic storytelling. “What happened?”

“She broke down and cried.” Frank reminisced on your last encounter. The heartbreak on your face solidified his hatred for Billy. “All it took was one look at me and she knew everything Madani told her was true, and you wanna know what the kicker is? She apologized to me. To me! Like she was the one who pulled the trigger. She apologized for loving the man who destroyed my family. Hell, Billy she was so fucking disgusted with herself that she wouldn’t even let me touch her! Do you know what a fucking gift you had, Billy!? A woman like her only comes once in a lifetime.”

Billy had to hold himself together, no matter how much he wanted to break down. Whatever chance he thought he had with you was gone. There were a lot of things you could forgive, but his recent actions were unforgivable. “So, what now? You think you won now that you ruined my relationship with Y/N? What, are you two going to live happily ever after?”

“Hell no! Even though she hates what you did, she still loves you and that’s the beauty of Y/N. So, I can’t be with her when I kill the love of her life. I would be a constant reminder of that.”

Bending down, leaning on his knees Billy said to Frank, “That’s not gonna happen. You’ll be dead and then I’ll have time to fix things with Y/N.”

The former friends couldn’t resume their argument, because Rawlins finally showed up. This conversation would have to pick up at another time.

—

Miraculously, Lieberman was able to get in contact with you and informed you of Frank’s crazy plan. David only told you, so you can get to their safe house before Homeland Security and save Frank. He had a horrible feeling that Frank was being tortured or at the brink of death.

And he was absolutely right. When you got to the safe-house Frank was beaten at the worst you’ve ever seen him, and Rawlins had a knife to his eye.

Knowing Rawlins’ death belonged to Frank, you let off a warning shot by his ear. “Get away from him you cyclops looking ass bitch!”

All eyes turned on you. Both Frank and Billy were in shock that you were there, but Rawlins was happy.

“Forget the eye you owe me, Castle. I’ll just take one more thing you love.” Quickly, Rawlins grabbed you and put the knife to your neck.

“What the fuck are you doing, Rawlins!?” Billy yelled, drawing his gun.

“Let her go! You got me! Come kill me you son of a bitch!” Frank shouted, attempting to jump from his seat.

Both men kept yelling at him, but it didn’t deter Rawlins. Instead he added more pressure to your neck, drawing blood.

“Shut it, Russo! You don’t get to question me; you work for me.” Rawlins leaned into your ear. “I thought I would have to find you and make your death look like an accident. But look, the last loose end, struts right into the lion’s den.”

Desperately, you wanted to knock him out, but with how close he had the knife to your neck, there was a great possibility that Rawlins could get in a fatal blow.

“I’ll get her under control. She won’t say a word.” Billy tried to reason with him.

“No fucking way! I can’t wait to see Frank put a bullet in your fugly face!” You said to Rawlins, correcting Billy.

You could practically hear Billy roll his eyes at your outburst. One of things he loved and hated about you is, that you always spoke your mind, but it was one of the times that it was detrimental. “Y/N, shut the fuck up!” Frank and Billy reprimanded you.

Rawlins laughed at the interaction. “Sorry to end this little love triangle, but you can blame Castle for pulling her in Russo.”

What you and Rawlins didn’t know was that Frank and Billy were silently communicating on how to save you. Earlier, Billy loosened Frank’s restraints, because Rawlins was being a dick to him, so he deserved what was coming to him.

Finally, getting the hint Frank broke free. The shock caused Rawlins to loosen his hold on you, which allowed Billy to grab you.

“You good? Are you okay, baby?” Billy questioned while his hands roamed your body for injuries. When he was satisfied that you weren’t hurt, he kissed you deeply. For a moment, you forgot that he was backstabbing murderer, but the sound of Frank attacking Rawlins pulled you out of it.

Never had you seen Frank fight. You only saw the aftermath. So, you were intrigued when he fought Rawlins.

Billy tried to turn your head. “Don’t look. Y/N don’t need to see this.” You slapped his hands away and continued to watch anyway.

The way Frank fought was unbridled, ruthless, and brutal. Truthfully, if it was anyone else you would be concerned about their mental state, but you understood the depth of his anger and that was how he expressed.

You ran to Frank when he almost passed out after killing Rawlins. “Hey, baby wake up,” you lightly slapped his face.

“BABY!?” Billy roared from the other side of the room.

“I wish I could see your face right now, Bill. You just realized you’re done, and you lost everything you gave a shit about.” Frank struggled to speak.

“This isn’t my gun, Frank. I was never here. Y/N was never here.” Billy pulled you up from, Frank’s body and dragged you across the room.

You managed to pull yourself out of his hold and give Billy a right hook. “I’m not going anywhere with you! Do you think we still have a chance after everything you’ve done?”

Billy crowded your space and pointed the gun at Rawlins. “I offered Frankie a ticket out of the country before and just now I loosened the zip tie, so Frank had his chance. Ain’t that enough? What else do you want from me?”

“How about some remorse!? Can you even access that emotion or does that require too much selflessness from you?” You challenged Billy. You had to be hard on him or you would be too weak and take him back like nothing.

Taking a second, he looked up to the ceiling in deep thought. Billy leveled his eyes to yours and sighed, “What was happening when I broke up with you?”

“Huh? That’s irrelevant, Billy!”

“Its not! Now think what was in the news when I ended things?”

It took you awhile for you to remember, but when you did it hit you like a freight train. “Frank. His trial. Everything with Frank was front and center,” you mumbled.

“How does that matter, Billy?” Frank yelled off from the side. He didn’t need Billy charming his way back into your good graces.

“None of your business, Frankie. Why don’t you stick to dying over there?”

Punching Billy in the stomach, you scolded him. “Stop it!”

This time he let you go when you went to check on Frank. He was bleeding badly, so you took off your shirt to slow down some of the bleeding.

“Well, ain’t that a sight to go out to,” Billy commented on how Frank got an ample view of your breasts.

Billy’s smartass remarks were getting on your everlasting nerves and you were running out of patience. “William ‘Billy’ Russo quit your shit!”

“He ain’t lying sweetheart. That beautiful face being the last thing I’ve see is a blessing.” Frank took a bloody hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

You leaned down to his ear, playing it off as if you were leaning down to kiss him. “Stop talking. I need to stall him long enough until DHS gets here.”

Then you placed a kiss on his cheek, earning you a shot dangerously close to Frank from Billy. “None of that,” he warned.

“Okay, since I can’t do fucking anything but listen, please enlighten me what Frank’s trial had to do with us breaking up.”

Scratching the side of his head, Billy was trying to figure out where to start at. He had to make you see sense, to make you understand that he wasn’t as heartless as you believed him to be. “Y/N, you changed everything. Maria, the kids, I pushed all the guilt down and reasoned that their deaths were necessary, because I deserved better. And when all that shit went down with Frank and why he was killing everyone, all that guilt came back up.”

“Why then, Billy? Why did you feel guilty then!?”

“Because of you, damn it! Because I could finally relate. Because if someone as so much laid a fucking finger on you, they’d be dead. Shit, I already told Frankie over there, so I tell you, I was planning to propose to you. That pregnancy scare we had right before we broke up made me ready to have a family with you and I knew if someone took it away like Frank’s family, I would’ve ended up the same way.” Billy confessed.

Frank tried to stand up after he heard Billy’s confession, but he was too hurt, so you gently pushed him back down. “Having a family of your own made you regret your decision, even though we considered you family!?” The hurt was evident in Frank’s voice and you thought he may never recover.

“Frank, it’s done and over with. That chapter of your life is done. Matter of fact,” Billy gripped you by the back of the neck and pulled you against him. Then he cocked his gun and aimed at Frank despite your protests. “It’s the end of your story.”

Just before he was able to pull the trigger on Frank, a bullet from a Homeland Security hit his shoulder. He recovered quickly and dragged you with him, not caring that you left behind a bleeding Frank. The only solace you had in that moment was Madini would be able to get him the help that he needed.

“This is stupid, you know. You have DHS, NYPD, and my dad on your ass. Just turn yourself in and end the madness, Billy.”

Billy looked away from the window to look at you, “I’m not going prison. All I gotta do is get rid of Frank and then we’re off to a country with no extradition and starting a new chapter of our lives.”

Thankfully, Billy trusted you to a degree and didn’t tie you to the chair. So, you got up and wrap your arms round his waist and laid your head on his back. “If you go after Frank, do you really think you’ll survive that, Billy? He’s pissed and he’s not gonna stop til you’re dead. The only way to stop this is to convince you, because I know Frank can’t and more importantly, I won’t ask that from him either”

Insulted that you didn’t believe he could survive, Billy stepped out of your embrace. “You rather have me in prison?”

“I rather have you in prison than six feet under! God, Billy do you know how fucking conflicting this is for me!? I have to deal with two men I love trying to kill each other and one of em deserves it! Do you know how much it hurts my heart to say you deserve to die, Billy?” Sobs racked your body and eventually your body gave out and you fell to the floor. Never has Billy seen you cried like this. He got down to the floor and held you until the sobs subsided. “Please Billy, if you can’t go to prison just leave the country, but I can’t go with you.” You whispered against him.

It seemed like an eternity passed after you gave Billy that ultimatum. He truly considered it, but he couldn’t live without you, even if it would mean you would hate him forever. “You said it best, doll: Frankie ain’t stopping, so neither am I.” He admitted, right before he ripped your shirt in half.

“What the fuck, Billy?!” You slapped his hands away, but that didn’t deter him. His hands began to drift off to your pants and you were positive they were going to be his next victim.

Twisting your hip away from him, you were able to escape Billy’s embrace. “Bill, what the hell are you doing?”

Billy went down to push your pants down. “Just like I told you neither me or Frankie is stopping and if this is my last day on earth I wanna make love to my soulmate and possibly leave her with a little gift.”

“Uh huh. There’s absolutely no way I’m having sex with you.” Your voice quivered as you tried to reject Billy. Despite seeing him callously kill those DHS agents at his house, your body thrummed with excitement at the prospect of having sex with Billy.

Softly kissing the column of your neck with little nips in between, Billy cockily asked, “Is that so?”

You didn’t trust your voice, so you shook your head yes, which was a big no no for Billy. He loved you being vocal. Even when you two would sneak around in public, he made no efforts to quiet your moans.

“Use your words, darling,” he warned with two quick slaps to each butt cheek.

You melted into him despite the stings on your ass. “We’re totally not having sex,” you stuttered while Billy was massaging your ass.

Billy said nothing as his hand slid up your neck and lightly squeezed your throat. “See, your mouth is saying one thing, but your body is saying the complete opposite. Are you sure that’s what you want, baby? You know how good I can make you feel. How full I make you feel with me between those luscious thighs. How blissful it feels when I get at just the right angle and hit that spot. How high you feel when I start rubbing that pretty clit of yours while I’m plowing into you. Or how about how good it feels when I finally let you cum and you gush all over me. Do you really want to miss out on that for possibly the last time?”

At this point, you were a puddle. Billy always had a way with words. You only had enough energy to turn to face Billy and rip off his clothes. “That’s my girl,” Billy chuckled as he helped you take off his clothes and the remaining of yours.

Billy lowered himself to his knees and threw one of your legs over his shoulders, but you stopped him before he could get started. “No, I need you inside of me,” you ordered him.

“Someone’s impatient,” Billy smirked, standing up to his full height.

“Stop playing around or I’ll go find someone else to finish the job.”

Billy’s whole face darkened, he lifted your leg around your waist and entered you roughly. Both of you moaned in ecstasy. Both enjoying the familiar feeling of each other.

“Feels like my words did the trick. I didn’t even get to taste my favorite meal, because you’re so fucking wet already.” Billy whispered, not moving one inch since he entered you.

To motivate him, you slapped Billy across the face. “I swear to God, Russo if you don’t start moving, I’m gonna—oh shit,” your eyes rolled to your back of your head as Billy pulled out and pushed back in.

Yours and his moans plus the sound of skin slapping together were basically pornographic. Billy was right, he knew exactly how to make you feel on top of the world.

“I’m close, baby. Are you?” Billy asked, moving all your hair to one side so he could kiss the side of your neck. Somehow you managed to tell him yes and he let out a growl of approval.

“I’m gonna bust all in you. You hear me?” Billy yanked back your hair. “I’m gonna fill you with my seed and hope to see you round with my baby. Whether I end up dead or alive, either way I’m getting you pregnant tonight.”

His words shouldn’t have turned you on, but they did. You shouldn’t even be having sex with him right now but fucking Billy Russo could have almost anything he wanted especially when he was deep in your guts.

Billy’s pace fastened, causing both of you to erupt against each other. Both of your bodies were covered in the light sheen of sweat, but neither of you made the effort to clean up. In fact, you snuggled into him, drifting off to sleep, not knowing the shit show you would awake to later.

When you woke up, you were tied to a carousel, Dinah was lying on the ground with a gun shot wound to the head, and Billy and Frank were beating each other to death.

Neither man had the upper hand, they were too evenly matched for each other. “Guys, please stop!” Your throat was harsh, but you managed to scream at them.

It took a couple of more screams for them to finally pay attention to you.

“Sweetheart, you good? Did he hurt you?” Frank asked, oblivious to Billy planning to attack him. Billy managed his sneak attack on Frank and he finally got the upper hand. Your heart dropped. It looked like Frank was going to die, because you were a distraction.

You were in such a frenzy that you didn’t notice you broke the zip ties until you fell from the carousel.

In the nick of time, you were able to cover your body over Frank’s, halting Billy’s assault.

“Get out the way, Y/N!” Billy ordered you.

Shaking your head, no, you pleaded with him. “Please stop.”

Billy rolled his tongue around like he always does when he’s pissed. “Do you love me?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Do you love him?” He hissed.

“Yes,” you uttered, knowing it would break Billy’s heart.

“Do you love him more than me?”

“I..I…I don’t know.”

Sheathing his knife, he bent down, gripped the sides of your face and gave you a bruising kiss. You couldn’t tell if the kiss was meant for pleasure or punishment, or maybe both.

“Well, we’re about to find out.” He pushed off of his heels and cocked his gun. “Choose.”

“What?” You questioned, obviously confused.

Frank finally spoke up from under you. “Bill, you piece of shit. Don’t you do this to her!”

Billy was unfazed and instead of pointing the gun at Frank, he pointed it to Dinah. “Choose or she won’t even get the chance to survive the first shot.”

Frantically, you looked between both Frank and Billy. Each man so different but so similar at the same time and both had a vise grip on your heart.

“Frank,” you whispered with your head hanging down. “I choose Frank.”

If he wasn’t bleeding, you would’ve been able to see the red flushing Billy’s face.

He nodded his head as if he understood. “You always make things difficult. That’s ok, it’ll be just like when we first started dating.”

Expert marksmanship was Billy’s thing, so he always had a shot at Frank despite you covering his body. When the shot went off, you got clipped in the shoulder.

That moment set something off in Frank and he had renewed energy. Just like when Rawlins cut you, he was an animal. He attacked Billy so ferociously, you thought Billy was dead. But Frank shocked you, he told Billy he’ll leave him alive. The only thing that worried you was would it have been better just to kill Billy after the state Frank left him in.

—

Things were as good as they were gonna get. David was back with his family, Billy was locked up and hospitalized, Dinah was alive, and the CIA and DHS decided to leave Frank alone, letting him live his life.

Currently, you were waiting on Frank to go to David’s house for dinner with his family.

“Hey, Frank you almost ready?” You asked, putting on your earrings.

Frank came out of your guest room with a big duffel bag and a face full of regret.

Nodding to yourself to stop from crying, you asked the question you already knew the answer to. “You’re not going, are you?”

Sticking his hands in his pockets, Frank looked off to the side before returning his gaze to you. “Yeah.”

Walking over to him, you stuck your hands in his back pockets and gave him your irresistible puppy dog face. “There’s no way I can make you stay?”

Frank shook his head at you. He had to be strong or otherwise you would have him wrapped around your finger. Who’s he kidding? He’s probably already is. “You’re dangerous. You know that, sweetheart?”

Flipping your hair, you smiled up at him. “Duh. I kick ass on the daily.”

“That’s true, but you can really bring a man to his knees with just those beautiful eyes of yours. So, stop giving me those puppy dog eyes, or I’ll never leave you alone.”

Since, your innocent act wouldn’t work you decided to be a bit more devilish. This time you snaked your arms around Frank’s neck, brought your face closer to his and whispered into his ear. “You sure you can’t stay? At least for dinner?” You asked, licking the shell of his ear before tugging it in your mouth.

Grabbing handful of your ass, Frank pulled you closer to him and growled in your ear. “Don’t go poking the bear.”

“Or what,” you threw back, smirking up at him.

Frank shoved you against the nearest wall to kiss you and fondle your body. The way he was kissing you was almost like he was marking his territory, making it impossible for you to think about any other man.

His hands drifted to the inside of your jeans, where he pushed your panties to the side to insert two of his digits inside of you.

“Frankkkk,” you whimpered, digging your fingers in his shoulders. Those two fingers alone were stretching you out almost making you feel full. You couldn’t imagine how it would feel to get the real deal.

“Hey, open your eyes. I want to see them when I make you cum.” Frank rasped against your ear, making you even wetter than before.

Frank sped up his fingers and used his thumb to massage your clit. He loved how you quivered against him, knowing he was the cause of it. He loved your little moans that made him harder. He loved how hard you were digging into his shoulders that he knew would cause bruises. All of it he loved because he loved you.

He felt you contract around his fingers and he was in a dilemma. Desperately, he wanted to observe you fall apart against him, but he also wanted to draw it out, because this was the last time he planned on seeing you.

“Baby, please,” you begged Frank. Hearing you beg, undid Frank and at that moment he decided to finish you off.

Curling his thick fingers without changing his pace, Frank hit your g-spot, making you cum so hard you saw white spots.

Frank muffled your moans with his lips on yours. The way he was kissing you made you already wanting to start round two when you barely made it through the first round.

You whimpered when he slipped his fingers out of you and into his mouth. Unwrapping your arms from around his neck, you tried to stand on your own, but you stumbled a bit. “You okay, sweetheart?” Frank chuckled while checking on you.

When you shook your head yes, he reached down to pick up his duffel bag. “Still leaving huh?” You asked trying to keep the disappointment out.

“It’s better this way. Gives you a chance at a normal lifestyle.” Frank explained to you.

“What if I don’t want normal,” you countered.

Frank smirked at you before pulling you back into him. “You deserve it after all this bullshit, sweetheart. Go find an accountant or some stockbroker. Anyone who’s not like me or Billy.”

Pouting, you playfully hit his shoulder. “But I like my men a little murderous,” you whined.

Frank couldn’t help but shake his head and laugh. He was gonna miss that humor of yours. “I’m serious, Y/N.”

“I’m serious too! What the hell am I gonna do with a stockbroker? I’m gonna be like: ‘Oh what did I do? I beat the shit out of my client’s abusive husband. So, how was your day?’”

“You can’t beat the shit out of those assholes if you’re on the run with me. You gotta stay here help people out. It’s your calling.” It hurt to admit it, but Frank was right. The way Frank loved being a marine was the same way you loved helping out people.

Accepting defeat, you hugged Frank tightly, taking in his scent, committing it to memory. “I love you, Frank Castle.”

Slightly, pulling away from you Frank cupped your face as if he was holding precious cargo and kiss the corner of your lips. “I love you too.”

Just for a couple of seconds both of you stood there silently, getting your fill of each other for the last time. Frank was the one that broke contact first when he reached for the door. “Take care of yourself Y/N.” He advised, right before walking out the door.

After Frank left, you locked the door and slid to the ground, allowing yourself to finally let the tears fall. In a span of a couple of months you were in love with two men, one who was responsible for the deaths of the other’s family, and in a matter of days both were out of your life.

@twistedcharismaaa @titty-teetee @guccicloudz @gollyderek @harrysthiccthighss @angievii @gabytodd @frantic-realm @mmabodybuilder @breanime @veryfastspeedz @mbaku-babygirl @crushed-pink-petals @music-geek19 @voluptuouspelko

307 notes · View notes

highandlowculture · 4 years

Text

MEET THE NEW WEST, SAME AS THE OLD WEST

In the second act of Once Upon A Time… In Hollywood, washed-up actor Rick Dalton is on the set of a TV western as his stuntman and best buddy, Cliff Booth is revisiting Spahn Ranch, a former set for movie westerns. The ranch has been taken over by a bunch of hippies who follow some guy name “Charlie”. The heavy of the hippies is a fella by the name of Tex Watson. When conflict arises between Cliff and the hippies, one of the girls runs off to fetch Tex, who’s busy showing a tourist couple around the ranch. Hearing that there’s trouble brewing, Tex snaps to it, galloping across the western landscape on horseback and wearing a black hat. It’s a sweeping shot straight out of a John Ford film. That’s when it clicked for me…

Tarantino has made his third western.

Although there were always spaghetti western elements in his films (especially in Kill Bill vol. 2), QT hadn’t made a full-fledged western until 2012’s Django Unchained. Though entertaining and with an African-American lead, the film is his most straight-forward movie. We know who the heroes are, we know who the villains are. Wrongs are righted with a six-shooter and a hero’s grin. Its followup was another western, 2015‘s The Hateful Eight, a much darker and far less heroic film. All of the characters are flawed if not outrightly fucked-up. If Django Unchained was the sumptuously shot crowd pleaser, The Hateful Eight was the claustrophobic, nihilistic reversal. The western myth of heroes and villains is subverted by an unsavory group of characters who drag each other through snow, blood and racial slurs. Maybe the Old West was a pretty rough place to live in after all!

And now, in 2019, QT transports us to another Old West: 1969 Hollywood.

Fifty years ago. Half a century. Pretty old, right?

Already contentious with reviewers, one of the main debates surrounding Once Upon A Time… In Hollywood is its handling of Sharon Tate and the Manson Family. In the summer of ’69, when Tate, her unborn baby and her houseguests were brutally murdered by three members of the Manson Family, it sent shockwaves throughout Hollywood and America. The utopian dream of the 1960s was over. That’s the sanitized, less complicated history anyway. At the time many people were blaming satanism and Tate’s husband Roman Polanski for his hedonistic ways. Plus anyone deep in the trenches of late 60s hipdom knew that some of the peace-and-love spouting Flower Children might be psychopaths that could turn on a dime. Such darkness was foreshadowed in the music of The Doors and Velvet Underground. As Joan Didion recalled in her seminal work The White Album:

“Black masses were imagined, and bad trips blamed. I remembered all of the day’s misinformation very clearly, and I also remember this, and wish I did not: I remember that no one was surprised.”

Knowing this I find it disappointing just how many reviewers fail to see how sympathetic QT is to Sharon and her friends. They’re shown as cool people with a good vibe (only Roman is shown to be prickish when he speaks rudely to a dog). Sharon and Jay Sebring like to listen to records and enjoy life. No satanism. No orgies. And Sharon’s a generous person. She picks up hippie hitchhikers and buys her husband a Thomas Hardy novel. She relishes the communal experience of watching herself in the Dean Martin film The Wrecking Crew. It’s not just about her. She’s enjoying the connection she’s making with the theater’s audience. On the infamous August night, the film’s narrator talks about how Sharon, in the late stage of her pregnancy, was feeling hot and anxious. In short, Sharon is humanized. She’s a thoughtful, spirited and benevolent presence throughout the film. I think reviewers who view her just as “a Barbie doll” are revealing more of their own lack of empathy than QT’s. And people getting hung-up on how many lines her character speaks have some skewed priorities. As if the only way a person has worth is if they talk a lot. Talking. Talking. Talking. There are so many empty vessels running at the mouth these days. Social media voices bombard us constantly. There’s something to be said for some quiet dignity every once in awhile. Regardless, Once Upon A Time… In Hollywood isn’t Sharon’s film and it’s not a biopic. It’s Rick and Cliff’s film and it’s a western.

If comedy is “tragedy plus time”, then the same can be said for any work of art. The mythology of the Old West often mixed historical and fictional characters. Whether they were Billy The Kid, Wyatt Earp or Butch Cassidy, we’ve seen countless retellings of their exploits, never exactly the same, never entirely accurate. That’s what makes it a myth. A good portion is made-up. Going back to Homeric and Arthurian legends, the foundation of storytelling has always been a collision of fact and fiction, chronicle and embellishment. People make too much of QT altering historic events. Are the Nazis of Inglourious Basterds and the Manson Family of Once Upon A Time… In Hollywood any different than any other mythical villains of earlier works of art? If a filmmaker can’t riff on a fifty-year-old historical event, then what are we really doing here? Do we just want the cinema of Marvel Comics and discreet biopics? QT doesn’t treat history any different than the filmmakers of the 1960s treated the events of the 1860s. Tex Watson, galloping away in his black hat, is a signpost for this. It’s QT’s way of saying: “Every time has its myths, every time has its black hats and white hats”. And the Manson Family, filled with bloodlust and megalomania from the top down, fulfill the role of black-hatted villains quite perfectly.

Does this make Rick and Cliff, two middle-aged white guys who love booze and hate hippies, our white-hatted heroes? Hell, no. With the exception of Django Unchained, that was never QT’s bag. He’s all about the anti heroes of spaghetti westerns and Sam Peckinpah films. Men who have done plenty of bad, sometimes unspeakable, things. They’re only the hero because they wrestle with their past and because there’s always a meaner, badder fella waiting to shoot it out with ‘em. Clint Eastwood’s character in the The Good, the Bad and the Ugly is only “Good” because Lee Van Cleef is so clearly “Bad” (and Eli Wallach “Ugly”). In 1992’s The Unforgiven, Eastwood’s character talks of killing “women and children” in his past. Yet he’s still clearly our hero. The Old West is a morally complex time in which one’s heroism is often defined by a greater and competing villainy.

So when it’s revealed that Cliff possibly murdered his wife and got away with it, he’s stepping into the role of anti hero with a dark past. Is Cliff haunted by his past? Not seemingly. He’s more inclined to shrug it off with a smirk and swig of beer. Shit happens y’know. This makes him exactly the type of guy murderous hippies shouldn’t fuck with. They justify their bloodlust with a self-serving philosophical bent: Entertainers taught them to kill via TV and movies, so it’s okay to kill the people who are involved in making TV and movies. QT makes the bold and provocative choice to not confirm whether Cliff did or didn’t kill his wife, but if he did, he probably wouldn’t dress it up as anything other than a burst of brutish violence that he was lucky to get away with. He loves his dog though, and he’s a good friend. In real life that might not justify liking the guy, but in a western that’s usually enough. Ultimately these character choices made by QT are to set up a mythic showdown between Cliff and the Manson Family. He’s good because they’re bad. It’s the same reason Cliff was shown going head-to-head with Bruce Lee. Masked racism by QT, a known lover of Asian and martial arts films, or a way of building up Cliff’s status to mythical proportions? There was once this ex war hero, who became a stuntman and maybe killed his wife, and he once threw Bruce Lee into a car door on the set of The Green Hornet! Cliff is Paul Bunyan. He’s Bill Brasky. A folk hero for stuntmen and for his time.

And did you hear that one tale about Cliff and the Manson Family…?

Rick’s bread and butter is now guest-starring on various TV shows in which he plays the heavy and gets his ass kicked by the show’s star at the end of the episode. Rick is a boozy, bloated hot mess of a man who’s prone to crying. A lot. His first burst of tears in the film is at the Musso & Frank parking lot, after an agent gives Rick a harsh dose of reality regarding the state of his career. Cliff, always keeping his cool, gives Rick his sunglasses and says, “Don’t cry in front of the Mexicans.” Remember — this is a western. Anyway, if Cliff fills the role of macho, gives no fucks, murderous outlaw, Rick is the contrasting “modern man” or, to use a western term, “tenderfoot”. The film begins with a behind the scenes segment for Rick’s old show Bounty Law. In it an interviewer talks to Rick and Cliff about what a stuntman does. During the interview there’s a quip about Cliff carrying Rick’s load. So right out of the gate, QT brings our attention to the idea that Cliff is the real deal and Rick’s the actor playing a role. This notion is repeated throughout the film (even one of the Manson Girls, “Pussy”, makes reference to Cliff being more authentic because he’s a stuntman rather than an actor). Regardless of whether Cliff murdered his wife or not, he’s an ex military man and war hero, so obviously he’s killed people before. So in addition to taking falls and performing dangerous stunts for Rick, he’s more of a bona fide western anti hero than Rick ever could be. Fittingly, while Cliff and the Manson Family black hats are sizing each other up at Spahn Ranch, Rick is busy acting in a TV western. And Rick keeps crying. A lot. He even cries in front of a little girl who simultaneously coddles and reprimands him. No doubt, Cliff would view this as potentially worse than crying in front of Mexicans. But Rick can’t help himself. He’s both a man of his time and out of time. He can’t roll with the hippies and spaghetti westerns but he’d never last a day in Cliff’s shoes let alone the wild frontier. Even at the end, in which Rick finally gets the chance to become an avenging hero (involving possibly the greatest payoff in cinematic history) if one steps back and thinks of the climactic set-piece, Rick is merely stepping in at the end to grab all the glory after Cliff and his wonderful dog Brandy did most of the heavy lifting. Thus Cliff is yet again carrying Rick’s load.

But this doesn’t mean Rick doesn’t have a victory. He does. It just comes at the midpoint, and it’s the closest thing to a real-life victory in the film. When Rick shows up to play the heavy in the TV western, he’s reached his low-point. Like a different part of the anatomy going into ice-water in Raging Bull, Rick is submerging his face into ice-water in his trailer, struggling with a hangover and hopelessness. Making matters worse, the artsy director shows up and tells Rick he wants him to play a hippie-style outlaw with a fringe jacket, mustache and long hair. The only thing Rick does more than drink and cry is insult hippies. He’s living his worst nightmare as an actor. QT makes another one of his most interesting choices by showing the subsequent scenes from the TV show in the same film stock and style as the main narrative. Thus when juxtaposed to Cliff at Spahn Ranch, Rick’s battle with his growing irrelevance as an actor is given the same cinematic weight. This isn’t just a TV show within the movie — it is the movie! This battle or showdown is just as important as Cliff’s eventual showdown with the Manson Family. Rick struggles. He fucks up his lines. He comes totally unglued in his trailer. This looks like the end of the road for him as an actor. He eventually gets his shit together, embraces the role and goes for broke. It’s a credit to both QT as a filmmaker and Leo DiCaprio as an actor that the villain Rick plays in the TV show ends up being more intense and visceral than the one he played in the main narrative of Django Unchained. Rick’s chops as an actor are restored and he decides to go to Italy and star in spaghetti westerns. He learns to maximize his talent in order to roll with the times.

A protagonist who is at odds with changing times might seem regressive or even reactionary to some people today, but it’s also a hallmark of westerns, especially the westerns of the late 1960s and early 1970s. From Once Upon a Time in the West to Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, an impending future of railroads and industrialization is always treated with uneasiness by the heroes. These changing times aren’t going to include them. Their wild and free ways will soon come to an end. Nowhere is this theme most prominent than in the work of Sam Peckinpah. In many of his westerns, The Wild Bunch, The Ballad of Cable Hogue, Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid, the heroes are viewed as endangered creatures who are all too aware of their fate. The character of Cable Hogue even meets his end when a motor car rolls over him. He’s killed by the modern age! Another Peckinpah film from this era, Junior Bonner, is set in 1972 Arizona but can also be considered a western (creating a template for QT’s western that’s not set in the canonical “Old West”). The protagonist and title character is an aging rodeo star (brilliantly played by Steve McQueen, who perhaps not so coincidentally also appears in QT’s film). In Peckinpah’s film, Junior has lost his edge and returns home to take a breather and maybe get his chops back. His struggle is not unlike Rick Dalton’s. They’re both aging entertainers and they both fear they’re washed-up. And as with all of Peckinpah’s westerns, encroaching progress is a threat to Junior’s simple cowboy ways. All of these above mentioned westerns are filled with a bittersweet quality; a nostalgic snapshot that’s destined to become yellow and brittle. The power of myths is they suggest immortality for our heroes.They might be long gone but they live through these tales. Whether’s it’s the Old West of outlaws in dusty little towns or the Old West of ’69 Hollywood, people once lived in these places and they lived vibrant, foolhardy and sometimes dangerous lives. Maybe they didn’t live or die exactly as the tale accounts, but they did indeed live and they did indeed die.

In his film QT references another “man out of time” western: The Life and Times of Judge Roy Bean. Written by John Milius, directed by John Huston and starring Paul Newman, the film is a highly-fictionalized account of the life of Judge Roy Bean. At the climax an elderly Roy Bean reemerges from a self-imposed exile to have a showdown with businessmen who have surrounded his beloved town with oil rigs. When his enemies ask who he is, Roy Bean shouts “Justice, you sons of bitches!” This is immediately followed by a shootout in which Roy defeats his foes, blows up the surrounding oil rigs and goes out in a blaze of glory. In real life Roy Bean died in his bed after a heavy bout of drinking. What’s most interesting is how QT referenced The Life and Times of Judge Roy Bean. After the climax of Once Upon A Time… In Hollywood there’s a triumphant but wistful epilogue in which one of our heroes is faced with a future that we all know is a fantasy. Over this scene is an evocative piece of music that sounds like it’s from a fairytale and it plays over the end credits. The piece of music is entitled “Miss Lillie Langtry” and it’s the main theme from The Life and Times of Judge Roy Bean. Lillie Langtry was a British-American socialite Roy Bean was enamored with and he even went so far to name the saloon in his town after her. “Miss Lille Langtry” plays over the end credits of Once Upon a Time… In Hollywood and the opening credits of The Life and Times of Judge Roy Bean. But before the credits in Roy Bean we see written in storybook fashion:

“Near the turn of the last century the Pecos River marked the boundaries of civilization in western Texas. West of the Pecos there was no law, no order, and only bad men and rattlesnakes lived there.

…Maybe this isn’t the way it was… it’s the way it should be.”

With Once Upon a Time… In Hollywood, Quentin Tarantino pays homage to a socialite/actress who was tragically murdered before her time and two endangered heroes—one an outlaw stuntman, the other an entertainer—neither of who existed but men like them did. For two hours and forty-five minutes, the onward march of tragedy and time is defeated through a spirited, Old West mix of bravado and audacity. Maybe it’s not the way it was…

But it’s the way it should be.

#Quentin Tarantino #Once Upon A Time In Hollywood #western #hollywood

41 notes · View notes

mindctrlaltdel · 3 years

Text

Random Reviews: Mulholland Drive

This movie is BASIC INSTINCT, written and directed by Salvador Dali.

***

Recently, I watched MULHOLLAND DRIVE for the first time for my friend Shawn Eastridge's podcast, MISSING FRAMES (www.thenerdparty.com/missingframes/episode-103-mulholland-drive).

As I watched this odd, funny, disturbing, interesting flick, I took the following notes. Is it, as some critics say, the BEST FILM OF THE 21ST CENTURY? Here's an inside look at my viewing experience as I mulled over MULHOLLAND DRIVE...

[PRESS PLAY]

I love how the first five minutes is basically a bad late 90's Gap commercial, all swing dancing, no point...

The Mulholland Drive sign is calling to us. The street, Mulholland Drive, is Bali Hai for perverts.

Justin Theroux gets top billing over Naomi Watts??

I gotta admit, I saw one of the movie's original posters and thought "Naomi Watts AND the lady from the first MEN IN BLACK is in this? It's the triumphant return of Linda Fiorentino." When I DIDN'T see her name in the opening credits, I was disappointed. She's NO Linda Fiorentino... for this role, she's even better. AND she's a countess (seriously, look it up). Oh, and Robert Forster shows up for 10 minutes.

Not-Linda Fiorentino has some hustle in her for someone who just survived a horrible head on collision.

I like how the street signs kind of tell us where we are and what kind of world we're in. It's like a surreal, dramatic version of that Californians SNL sketch.

You mean to tell me that the red-headed older woman didn't see not-Linda Fiorentino under her kitchen table? UnbeLIEVable.

Holy crap, the wide-eyed guy in Winky's - he plays Jimmy Barrett, the comedian in MAD MEN... and MAD MEN is an interesting connection here, because everyone talks in this measured, paced deliberate way throughout that series, kind of similar to how the characters usually speak in the David Lynch productions I've seen... When I started watching MAD MEN, I thought the actors were purposely directed to speak that way, so everything to seem more "real" as opposed to that fast-talking, old-Hollywood style that you'd expect to see from outspoken, big idea-types. I imagined that Matt Weiner wanted people to seem - at least to modern audiences - the way people actually were - particularly, the inhabitants of the intelligent and cerebral world of ad men, working behind the scenes, on the fringes of show business. But then Jimmy Barrett, an old-timey comedian ALSO spoke that way. And it just didn't seem authentic to me. Anyway, back to THIS movie...

OH and that dingy woman behind the dumpster! She's like if Captain Howdy moved out West and got all LA on us. Is that Cloris Leachman covered in mud? And the music... for some reason, there's nothing scarier than the sound of an HVAC vent on full blast. (According to this article, www.vulture.com/2014/10/mulholland-drives-evil-hobo-breaks-her-silencio.html,the actress who played Evil Hobo #1 said of her audition process: "I don’t mean to brag, but David Lynch said he was looking for the most incredible face he could find. I actually met him at a Twin Peaks party, and he was like, 'Look at that face!'")

I love the X-Files-style synth strings that play over Naomi Watts (Betty) and gram-gram (Irene) as they walk through the hotel, I mean the airport... Aw, these two old people love Betty. What a different life she's living than that countess who's not Linda Fiorentino who's squatting in that redhead's apartment that Betty's about to move into.

Even then, Naomi had a good American accent. (Although I learned she's technically British but split her time between England and Australia), those Australians are great at spitting out neutral American sounds. But once I learned that Betty is supposed to be Canadian, I was very disappointed. It's not THAT authentic. Where are her "Aboots"? And she didn't put maple syrup on anything in this whole movie.

Oh my God, are Irene and her husband, riding in this towncar, ALSO going to get held up, like not-Linda Fiorentino at the beginning of the movie? Oh okay, they're not. We just followed them for no reason other than to see that they look happier than an old couple in a Cialis commercial. I guess meeting Betty really improved their sex life or something.

Coco - of course she's a fading hollywood starlet... AHHH, Coco is played by Ann Miller - good for her. She's basically that kooky old landlady from SEINFELD, the one who worked with the Three Stooges that Kramer met when he went to LA. Look at all these connections!

"Prize-fighting kangaroo who shits all over the courtyard" - do you think Naomi Watts is going to come out and say, "as an Australian, I was actually offended by this line, but I was scared into silence by that power-hungry monster, David Lynch."

The countess - who now goes by "Rita" - does kind of look like Rita Hayworth. I like the connections to old Hollywood and to noirs and how it's all wrapped together. Rita Hayworth is also a redhead, like Betty's aunt. She's of Spanish descent as well... and the actress playing Rita in this movie is of Mexican descent... Connections, connections.

I love that this casting session is basically run by a deep state shadow organization with a weird waiter in a red blazer... This is how Disney cast WandaVision.

HAHAHAH "That is one of the finest espressos in the world sir!" - this is DEFINITELY how Disney casts their movies. And Justin Theroux is the only man with integrity in this room! Does anyone have any class in this town!? They don't even validate his parking.

This is my favorite movie about making movies since BOWFINGER. And I may not be lying. And somehow less weird than THE ARTIST.

Is everyone gonna start killing each other over Ed's famous black book? This is oddly funny.

"Something bit me bad!" This incredibly long fight scene between the blond guy and secretary... it reminds me of the Uma Thurman/Daryl Hannah trailer fight in KILL BILL VOL. 2 but with less snakes.

These closeups of lingering looks on Rita's cash-filled purse are great... She's pulling wads of cash out of that purse one at a time, like Leslie Nielsen pulling eggs out of that blond lady in AIRPLANE!

I want to know what direction David Lynch gave that braless woman who's following the blond assassin around. It's like she's doing an acting exercise... like you know, when you're told to fill the space... "walk around the room, and clear your head. And now you're walking really fast. And now you're slow. NOW, imagine what it would be like to walk with your nose as the furthest point in front of you. Lead with your nose..." And David Lynch did that and told the braless woman to lead with her chest.

Justin Theroux is basically Robert Downey Jr.'s character from BOWFINGER, except NOW, he's the protagonist.

Betty is loving Rita's amnesia a bit too much. If this were my life, Rita would be the most interesting thing to happen to me too. Hell, if I was from Ontario, getting off at LAX would rock my world.

When Justin Theroux enters his glass-walled home to find his wife with another man, well... Justin Theroux may never star in something like HOBO WITH A SHOTGUN, but I can definitely picture him in YUPPIE WITH A GOLF CLUB.

That slinky theme song playing in Justin Theroux's/Laraine's house is a song that I actually listen to in my tiki, lounge playlist - to give you a hint of my music tastes. What I listen to for fun, Billy Ray Cyrus puts on to drown out his love-making.

By the way, BILLY RAY CYRUS!!! WHAT? Is this how Miley was conceived??? I think yes.

Pink paint in a jewelry box! This is much better than the usual throwing-all-his-belongings-out-a-second-story-apartment-window-scene that happens in every other movie.

I wouldn't be THAT excited if I learned MY name was Diane Selwin. BUT the sexxxual tension with the waitress Diane at the diner is palpable!

So, not-Linda Fiorentino has amnesia. How does she know that answering machine is NOT her voice!?

Justin Theroux/Adam Kesher's wife is very aggressive with the large man who's so dedicated to finding Adam Kesher that he keeps calling Adam's name in vain like the secretary in my doctor's office.

I watched this movie in pieces, the first half late at night. The second half the next morning. In between, while sleeping, I had a dream where Betty and Rita were looking over a map and any time one of their hands brushed over another, their hands would turn gold. As if this was a stylistic choice made by the filmmaker directing my dream to show that there's some kind of deeper relationship between these two women. So I've started dreaming in Lynch.

I like how this film is so utterly connected to not only Lynch's subconscious, but the audience's as well. Lynch is TAPPED IN. I don't always love when a film goes all in with a surreal style, because sometimes that's just a cover for something lacking in the storytelling department. But I do feel there's more to it here, in MULHOLLAND DRIVE.

The hooded woman, Louise... I feel like I've run into her on the streets of New York. A Louise will ALWAYS find a way to give you a portent of doom that ruins your day. Friggin’ Louise.

This movie is so moody, you really have to be in the mood to watch it.

There's something magical and prophetic about the cowboy, like he's the seer that the old general sees on the eve of battle... Also, I love how the lead female role in Justin Theroux's movie is his sword of destiny. There's a glitz and gleam and nostalgia to Old Hollywood that naturally gives this movie, set in "modern" Hollywood," a total fantasy vibe.

Hahaha that "You're still here?" scene rehearsal between Betty and Rita is an excellent transition.

James Karen - the real estate guy from POLTERGEIST - is handling casting! "He moved the headshots but he didn't cast the bodies!!"

The casting direction: "Don't play it for real until it gets real." It's interesting how the characters, who work in the "business," seem to control their reality. Betty seems unsure of where the scene is going, then she gets into it. And it really speaks to her conversion from a bright-eyed new arrival to someone who surrenders to the darker impulses of the city.

HEAVY BREATHING.

Ugh friggin' Bob...

I love how Lynnie, the casting director, pulls the rug out from under that scene. There's always a jaded casting person who totally wrecks any good feelings about every audition. It's a thing.

David Lynch uses nostalgia and a latent love for Hollywood to draw the characters (and us) into his world and then subverts our expectations. A lot.

Why is the screen test just a lip-synching contest? ...I think it feeds into the nostalgia element for the movie at large but it seems like a waste of studio resources here. Early-aughties Hollywood spending, amirite?

Rita's reaction to finding the body is played very much like the reaction a character would have in an older film... The horror! The fear! The silent gaping terror while possessed with the inability to scream. I was watching the original KING KONG before this (which is may be a sign from the universe that I had to watch this Naomi Watts vehicle, as she starred in the remake), and specifically remember the scene where the director Carl Denham is coaching Ann Darrow/Fay Wray on how to act in a horror film - "now look up, and you see it, you see it in all its horror. And your jaw drops and you try to scream but you're so frozen in terror that you can't!" - I imagine that's what Lynch is doing to not-Linda Fiorentino off-camera as they filmed this scene.

Uh-oh, Rita is single-white femal'ing Betty now... She doesn't have a personality of her own, so she's going to take Betty's.... And now we're just getting NUDE with each other. This erotic thriller immediately turned from skintillating to Skinemax.

"I'm in love with you" - is Betty just saying that to convince herself? It feels more lusty than real. Betty's so bright-eyed and bushy tailed. Rita is gonna chew her up and spit her out!

I like the shot when they're sleeping together and, as they rest, their faces overlap thanks to the perspective of the framing. How much of the same person are they becoming? Where does one personality start and the other end?

The weird 2am theater. How'd Rita and Betty find this place? I love how this pop-up slam-poetry reading in this opera house is as terrifying to Rita and Betty as finding the dead body.

So Betty starts convulsing in her seat and then the poet disappears in a kind of old-style, cinematic I'm disappearing effect. I dig it.

Wait... is this a mysterious, magical show that just appears in LA, like Hamunaptra, the City of the Dead, that town in THE MUMMY that only shows up at sunrise on the third day or something like that? Or is this just a poorly attended Spanish-language talent show that could only afford to book this theater at 2am on a Thursday?

I love that Betty and Rita are tearing up over Rebekah Del Rio's performance (Rebekah Del Rio is a real person, by the way). Then, Rebekah faints as her voice keeps singing - is NOTHING real? Has Betty totally given into this weird world to the point that she doesn't really know what's authentic and what's fake anymore OR was Betty fake before she got to LA so it was easy for her to get acclimated.

This movie is like THE MATRIX, from the perspective of characters who only took the blue pill and didn't look back.

OOOH, Betty has the box and Rita has the key! But the box is empty except maybe its the Gom Jabbar pain-box from DUNE. Is David Lynch using MULHOLLAND DRIVE as an excuse to make good on his promise to produce a good version of DUNE.

WAIT A SECOND, the cowboy knows the dead girl? Does this even matter?

Now, wait ANOTHER second. Is Betty performing or DREAMING when she's Diane or is something else going one??

What's the BLUE KEY doing there?

"Two Detectives"??? Is she talking about Betty and Rita OR Robert Forster and the pudgy guy? OR someone else entirely - the two guy's from Winky's???

The movie became more interesting the moment the perspective shifted to "Diane" and "Camilla." When that happened, Naomi Watts really amped up her performance... reaching a level of intensity we hadn't seen since Betty's audition... it does take 2 hours to reach that point.... But then, when Betty and Rita are topless on the couch, I couldn't tell who they were supposed to be until Rita/Camilla called her "Diane."

Wait, now Rita's acting?? OH, so Rita was an actress? And Diane wasn't? Or Betty looks exactly like Diane?

The weird shifts in focus. The sad masturbating. This is the most depressing soft-core ever made!

Did Betty get killed and have amnesia too?

They take a shortcut to Eddie's house which looks EXACTLY like where Rita/Camilla was taken at the beginning of the movie by the hitmen in the towncar before that wild accident with those teenagers made her life weirder... OR less weird. You be the judge.

IS this a flashback or the future. Eddie and Camilla are having an affair?

MY MOTHER? COCO - what's real and what isn't????

The jitterbug competition.... Diane/Naomi wanted the lead so bad, Camilla got the part but in Mulholland Drive, Naomi is the star.

Then, Camilla is kissing that other blond actress who Betty watched screen test...

MULHOLLAND DRIVE is just David Lynch telling us that LA is a place for lust and jealousy and no matter what, purity gets ruined.

WHAT, the blond waitress is BETTY? And Diane hires the blond guy, who's officially labeled as a hitman.

Diane is also from Canada...

Are Diane and Betty just different versions of the same people in nearby parallel universes? I certainly HOPE so. This is too much insanity for ONE universe to handle.

The blue key will be found where the blond guy told Diane. Okay, that makes sense. But if this were to mirror real life, the key was in her hand the WHOLE time!

OH, and hobo-Cloris Leachman comes back... AND she's holding the blue box/Gom Jabbar... WHY the hell did those two old people wander out of that paper bag??? Do they represent longstanding guilt? Seems like it. Because they've just crept into Diane's apartment.

MULHOLLAND DRIVE is almost silly to the point of pretentiousness at points - at least with the last word to be uttered on screen - "silencio." That said, it does evoke the HAMLET line: "And the rest is silence," so THAT's poetic.

Sadly, Robert Forster was barely in this movie...

Oh, and Lee Grant played Louise - the old-Hollywood connections keep coming!

I can't believe this movie was intended to be a pilot?

***

Now, some final notes:

On the swapping of characters and relationships in the last 30 minutes -- my first thought was that Betty/Diane and Rita/Camilla look similar and/or they're connected by a parallel universe, and the diner is like the central hub between worlds, and hobo-Cloris Leachman is the gatekeeper between the two worlds... I buy the "dream world" explanation that some critics espouse, that's something I considered myself as I watched. But I'm not sure I believed Betty is Diane's dream version of herself. Also, I think David Lynch has a feeling about how everything fits together, yet I don't know if he's even settled on an explanation for everything. He just trusted his subconscious and he's so confident in his latent abilities, that we trust him to show us everything we need to see and take us everywhere we need to go.

I enjoy how it's a surrealist answer to SUNSET BOULEVARD. I hope in 2050, someone makes "The 405" really tying all these movies and Los Angeles roads together.

MULHOLLAND DRIVE is weird but good. Still, I don't know if, to me, it's more weird than good. It's also funny. But is it funny because it's weird or because it's actually, genuinely funny? Are these questions David Lynch actually wants me to ask or does he make it weird on impulse to cover for the fact that the film is simply just weird and based entirely on impulse? MULHOLLAND DRIVE is almost like a parody of a film noir, made by an inter-dimensional alien life-form who studied a bunch of movies from the 40's through the 90's but doesn't have a full grasp on human behavior, and DESPITE THAT, it's more of an emotional experience than a logical one. It's somewhere in between. It's self-indulgent in a way but also very giving. It's a paradox wrapped in an oxymoron wrapped in an enigma wrapped in a coffee-stained napkin covered in cigarette ash locked in a small, blue box.

***

Summing it up: I don't think there's a world where this movie would get a perfect score from me. Because ultimately, for all it's interesting and exciting moments, it's more of a passion project for David Lynch than a piece of entertainment for the audience, no matter how entertaining it may be. To me, it's a vision board more than it is a complete film. And yet, it IS a complete EXPERIENCE. And there's nothing wrong with that.

All of that said, I know David Lynch doesn't really like to give viewers a clear cut, traditional narrative. So, I had a feeling the mystery was just that, a mystery. Or even moreso, the FEELING of a mystery. It's not about where we're going, it's about the journey to the destination. And while the general atmosphere is moody and evocative and often powerful, MULHOLLAND DRIVE plays more like a 2.5 hour piece of music than a cohesive narrative. Maybe that's the best thing about it.

In the distant future, when our way of speaking has become as archaic as the words of Shakespeare are to us, it's the feeling and emotions and images of movies like MULHOLLAND DRIVE that will still have a timeless impact on the future audiences who view them.

#Random Reviews #movie review #review #Mulholland Drive #David Lynch #Missing Frames #Twin Peaks #Naomi Watts #Laura Harring #Ann Miller #Justin Theroux #Dune #existential #surreal

3 notes · View notes

stonerbughead · 3 years

Text

Maria watches friday night lights (#33)

I’m back, I’m back! So here’s what happened...I watched 5x10 on October 1, never edited my note about it, then ended up taking an inadvertent break from watching until now. Idk why, but i needed a break from like...watching tv i hadn’t seen before. Anyone else have that habit of watching things you’ve already seen when you’re going through an anxious period? Starting a new job in the same month as the 2020 presidential election fit the bill, and i wanted to really immerse myself in the final three episodes of this amazing show properly so i decided to wait until i was feeling it! Anyway to the like three people who enjoy my recaps, i hope you enjoy these last four recaps.

So without further ado, aforementioned Oct 1 recap, now edited and underneath the cut:

5x10 yoooo I have never been so amused by Buddy Garrity in my life + TIM so here we go:

TIM RIGGINS RETURNS?! Yay!!! (This is my reaction just from seeing him in the “previously on.”)

Eric’s getting recruited at a ~fancy~ restaurant! Oh shitttt

“That, right there, marks the end of the East Dillon Lions football program led by Coach Eric Taylor.” “...It’s a crate of oranges.” “Yeah, and it’s from the sunshine state. From Florida! And that can only mean one thing—year round sunshine and college funding.” Lmao alarmist Buddy is hilarious and actually not wrong here. Lol incredulous Levi: “you got all that from a crate of oranges?!”

#OperationGetTimOut!! Is Eric going to speak for him as a character witness?

I *knew* that phone call from Oklahoma Tech wasn’t gonna be good. Ohhhhh Vince you should’ve listened to Eric~~~

Oh shit everyone’s buzzing about “losing their kingmaker” and it’s playoff time! Love a good car radio scene. “So how was it honey, are we moving to Florida?” Lol

“Dad, maybe we should just talk to Coach. I need to be focused on this game on Friday night, getting my spot back.” Yes Vince stand up for yourself, take a break from those meetings! I am fearful of his dad’s true reaction tho.

“Expelling Epyck, that was a good start.” Omfg some of these teachers are too cruel! That is a severely traumatized child, ma’am!

“Impromptu speeches...” “Impromptu means not planned, Buddy.” “Okay, then promptu.” I’M LIVING for these Buddy and Levi interactions omg hilarious.

“A man can’t leave if you erect a statue in his honor.” “A plaque?” “You got money for that?!” I cannot omfgggg Levi and Buddy should take this show on the road!

Tami’s “Oh Levi you are too much.” That’s a nice way to say “fuck you” for making her take a personal day to go speak on a panel he TOLD her she’s speaking at? Smh this is why staff needs unions.

Lmao Buddy is being so extra with Eric, I can’t

...and enter Billy, here to ask Eric a favor...

“Tim Riggins? One of the best fullbacks in the great state of Texas? The boy my girl fell in love with? Yeah I’ll do that.” Damn Buddy has a crush on Tim Riggins too!! I get it dude same.

“I believe in loyalty, Billy. Sticking with your people, through good and bad.” SO EXTRA LMAO

“Hey coach you going to Florida?” “I was planning on going home and I suggest you do too, Tinker.” Ugh poor Eric having to deal with all of these rumors and the team being endlessly curious right before the playoffs!

Awww Tami’s excited about the Florida houses. “Three years with a two year option.” Damn. Aw the way that Eric looks at Tami and you know he wants to give her everything she wants 🥺

Omggg now Buddy is making the players talk up Eric Taylor 😂 his scheming truly kills me

Becky and Luke tossing a football, so precious!

Ah, there’s more to life than college football, Luke! “No one wants me.” “I want you.” Aww Becky.

Aw Billy is getting so frustrated trying to write his speech for Tim. “It sounds ridiculous.” “No it doesn’t. You’re a good brother.” Oh Mindy 🥺 fuck prisonssss he should not feel like his words have so much bearing on his brother’s literal freedom!

Yes to Vince going to Eric and agreeing to earn his way back! That’s the Vince we know and love!

I love Eric telling Tami about Tim’s parole hearing. “You going to do it?” “You bet i’m going to do it.” My heart! The way there’s no question about it 🥺

Andddd Vince’s dad predictably refuses to let up with the recruiters. But this time Vince is standing up to him!

Yesss Vince, walk away! Especially after his dad yelled at him like that; this is not your life, it’s Vince’s!

“Don’t whack her. Just a little love tap.” LMAO Luke, Tinker, Becky, and a pig. Luke is giving Tinker pageant advice for Tinker at a competition with the pig?? I can’t, that’s weirdly so cute. Becky clearly finds it cute.

Omg Tim in his all-white prison uniform I HATE THISSS

OMGGGG “I don’t want Billy to speak, he’s done enough damage.” Fuck this is gonna fuck Billy UP. But also fair...I mean, Billy DOES tend to be a fuck up?? Isn’t that how we got here?

Yessss Tami going off explaining that standardized testing isn’t the end all be all!!

“what would you have us do, meet with every kind in the state?” “Yes I would.” to a round of applause. GO OFF QUEEN TAMI TAYLOR

Yes Coach Taylor! Give us one of your epic speeches!

Poor Tim looks like he has a lot of self hatred sitting here listening to Eric talking about him 🥺

“I asked him to be an assistant coach because of his character off the field.” YES

lol Buddy Garrity getting up to speak even tho he’s not on the list 🤣

“He’s like family to me.” OH BUDDYYYY he’s coming through with a full time job for Tim when he comes out?????? Tim’s smile of relief.

“It’s time for you to let Tim Riggins come home.” YESSSSS

AW Tim sent Eric letters from prison?? My poor babe. “I’m sorry I didn’t visit more.” “I’m sorry I let you down.” “You didn’t and that’s not why I’m here.” IM EMOTIONAL

Holy shit Vince’s dad is STILL not letting up? “I’m your father. I know what’s right.” “that is enough! Get off his back!” “He needs a father, not an agent!” YES REGINA GO OFFFFF she finally snapped!

(It’s wild how Coach possibly leaving is being used in this fight in Vince’s family. Oh, Dillon!)

Oh shit Billy is yelling at both Becky and Mindy, clearly very affected by what Tim said at his parole hearing. “You did everything you could and that makes all the difference.” Aww Mindy, and Billy apologized! Too much stress for such a young family! Also unrelated but Mindy looks mad hot for the athletic banquet.

Awww I love getting to see the other teams stand up. Yeah cross country, yes girls volleyball!!!

Man, playing a sport in Texas that’s not football must suck, look at that insane applause for football vs. weak for everyone else

Buddy giving Gracie a lil t-shirt and saying, “clear eyes, full hearts...you know it?” And they’re all like “can’t...lose” and Gracie giggles! Ok that’s cute af

Omg the tension between Jess and Vince!! “Jess, I miss you. I miss you.” 🥺 aw yeah she blew him off for her brothers

Wow they made it to the playoffs for the first time in 25 years?? Well here comes Buddy’s All Hail Eric Taylor pageant. Lmao

Awww these heartfelt addresses from the team members on how much Eric Taylor has changed their lives??? Manipulative, Buddy, really. He knows what he’s doing.

Yesss Eric, give Tami that massage. See y’all, this is what being a good man looks like.

“It had the desired effect. It sure made you think twice about leaving Dillon.” “It’s a hell of an offer. I’d own that building. They have funding.” “Mmm and oranges. Don’t forget about oranges.” “Mmm that pool.” They wanna leave.

“You know what I want more than anything right now? I wanna bring these boys to state.” “I know you do.” “They deserve it.” “I know they do. But after you do that, this offer is something to think about. Because you deserve that.” Ugh I know I say it a lot but since we’re in the final four episodes now and I’m mostly talking into the void anyway — god, what a model of a wonderful and gentle and loving and communicative marriage! I am continually floored!

Becky with cowboy boots at Luke’s farm works. And ooh Luke’s mom said hi to her?? Progress!!

Aw they’re talking about how pretty they find Luke’s farm as he tries to imagine a future here in Dillon. “I have an amazing imagination. I see your next game, and you’re winning.” Awww Becky is such a cute girlfriend.

What a cute shot of Luke and Becky on the farm, “you ever think you could imagine living on a farm?” “Sure.” AWWW

Vince at Eric’s door on game day?!!! He’s asking Eric not to take the offer to Shane State when he’s supposed to already be at the field house!?!

“Having you as a coach is one of the best things to happen to me. I don’t know where I’d be without you. Either in jail or in a ditch somewhere.” Damn forget Buddy this shit is from the HEART

Eric tells him to get in the damn car and tells him he’s starting!! “You know what your problem is? You ask too many damn questions.”

AHHHHH TIM IS HOME! Showered in a flannel! My heart! He salutes Becky with a beer!

Aww Billy is so excited to have his brother home.

It seems uneasy in the home. Coming back from prison is hard.

And here they go, heading onto the bus with signs and cheers!

“I’ll tell you, this is an away game, but you look around here at the community tonight and the young players that I have playing for me, and the character they got—no matter where this community goes, that’s home.”

Damn Eric just announced he was planning to stay home in Dillon to the press. “you’re full of surprises, aren’t you?” says Tami. “I love you.” and with the FNL theme song playing aghkliyb I’m not ready for the final three episodes ahhh!!!

#maria watches friday night lights #mine #friday night lights 5x10

7 notes · View notes

lihikainanea · 4 years

Text

When tiger says her safe word.

Disclaimer:

Alright guys, look. I wrote and re-wrote this one a million times and then I thought it might just be better to add a bit of context.

People aren’t perfect, and sometimes they fuck up. Bill doesn’t seem like himself in this one, and in the heat of the moment tiger’s mind got away on her a lot. It happens, especially when your partner seems a little left of centre and you don’t find a lot of their traits that you seek out when things get intense. Dom/sub dynamics can escalate quickly, if a person’s headspace isn’t quite right it’s easy for the body to activate that panic response. Tiger was feeling some discomfort, she didn’t quite feel safe, and she did exactly what she was supposed to--exactly what Bill wants her to do--every single time that happens.

Tiger knows Bill would never hurt her, and she’s not scared of him. But in the heat of the moment, who he seemed to be was giving her quite a fright. But the minute she said her safe word--he stopped everything. Immediately. Because there is no other option. When someone safe words, you stop.

***

He didn’t seem like himself.

It was the first thing that struck you as he greeted you in the airport. Even though he had wrapped, even though it was time to leave the character behind, he seemed to still carry some of it with him. His face still had a few harsh ridges that didn’t belong to him, a bit of a tick in his jaw that was more ominous than his own, an impatience and abruptness to his movements that you weren’t used to.

The character had been so far from his baseline. You hadn’t been around to see it, only just barely as he rehearsed for the role before leaving to shoot—but it was a man full of torture, of pain, of aggression and anger and a hair trigger temper. It was far from his naturally even-tempered, calm state and like everything else, he had thrown himself into it with reckless abandon. The FaceTime calls were few and far between because his character was a recluse, one who gladly eschewed human interaction at every chance and he wanted to feel that, to immerse himself in it. But the few times you had seen him, it was easy to see a difference in his usually happy self—his patience seemed lot shorter, his answers to your questions far more curt. It had sent a warning flag up in your brain but he had levelled with you in a lengthy series of text messages a few days later—this one was a hard one. He already had a tough time wrapping his head around the character and he felt that unless he really threw himself into it 100% and let it consume him—then he would just never get a feel for the guy he was supposed to portray. So that’s what he did. He reinforced that your safe word would still work over text message and that if you really needed him, then he’d be there. But otherwise, he needed…space. Distance. He needed to allow himself to delve into the darkest parts of a mind that wasn’t his, to make it come to life on screen.

And he did just that, but when he wrapped, he had reached out. He needed a break, needed to let the character go, needed to get as far away from him as he could. He had asked you then, if you’d go away with him somewhere—anywhere, so long as it was far away. You checked in with work and booked the time off before calling him back, telling him to choose the place. Somewhere warm, he thought. Somewhere with a lot of nature, where time seemed to just stand still, where you could be just the two of you and reconnect.

“Tiger, I need a favour from you,” he had said on a late night call, “A mulligan. A free pass, or whatever.”

Something in his tone had struck you, and you pressed the phone closer to your ear.

“Just name it and it’s yours, Billy Goat,” you reassured. You heard him take a deep breath.

“Let me take care of this one,” he asked.

“Bill—” you huffed.

“I know, kid. I know,” he interjected, “But I have it all lined up. I need sun, I need nature, I need ocean. I need you, tiger. Please, let me do this. For us.”

You sighed heavily into the phone.

“For me, kid,” he tried again, “Please?”

“Bill, I love you. And for everything but your money.”

“I know, tiger,” he said and you could hear the smile in his voice, “Thank you.”

“I’m paying you back in blowjobs,” you said, and you smiled when his boisterous laugh came through the phone.

“I’d be an idiot to say no to that,” he laughed, “The mouth on you could kill a man.”

You hung up shortly after, making arrangements to meet him where he had just wrapped because it was easier to get to your vacation destination from there. The airline tickets had come through your email a short while later, accompanied by a sweet note from him that had you packing your bags that much faster.

But when you landed, it seemed that there was somebody other than your best friend who had greeted you at the airport. A man with a much shorter temper, a lot more darkness in his eyes, far more malicious purpose to his step. He looked tired as he always did after a gruelling shoot and that seemed normal, but something in his demeanour seemed off. His demeanor, and his body—Bill looked huge. You told him as much as he leaned to hug you.

“This guy was big, tiger,” he explained with a shrug, “Big and angry. I had to work out a lot more and eat my weight in chicken breasts. But I’m done talking about him. Done living him. Come on.”

He ushered you to the waiting car, giving your bag to the driver to toss in the trunk as he slid in beside you. As soon as the doors were shut he took your face in his hands, laying a deep kiss on your lips.

“I missed you, kid,” he murmured against your mouth as he kissed you again, “So, so much.”

“I missed you too, bud,” you whispered, “And now we have a whole week together to just relax.”

He sighed against your lips, and you pulled him in for another kiss.

You both thought the sun, the sea and some good food would do him good, would bring him a little back to himself. And while it did relax him somewhat—the bags under his eyes took a few days but they eventually disappeared, his skin took on a much healthier glow, but somehow he still seemed….different. He seemed tense and alert, ready to strike at any moment. His laid back nature was gone, replaced by something far more anxious, jumpy, something worried and jaded. He had been rough with you too, the first night you spent together after awhile. You hadn’t quite paid as much attention to it because you needed him just as bad, but his movements were far more harsh, aggressive. He grabbed and pulled at you, bit at your lips and just moved you into the position he wanted before slamming into you, keeping his pace hurried and rough. You had enjoyed it, it had been a long time since you had been with him and you liked when he got needy, when he got so desperate for you that he could barely contain it. You liked when he was a little frantic, a little aggressive, a little consumed by it. It felt good to feel his desire, to be with him after so many weeks apart. But usually after being a little rougher than usual he’d take care of you, make sure you were okay, cuddle you and give you lots of gentle touches before drifting off to sleep.

This time, everything about it after was different. With an arm slung loosely around your hip, he leaned over you and kissed your cheek.

“You good, kid?” He asked, already settling behind you. You furrowed your brow.

“Yeah I’m…I’m good,” you stammered, and you craned your neck to reach his lips for another kiss.

“Good. Goodnight, tiger,” he murmured, and then he flopped his head on the pillow. Frowning, you removed his arm from your waist and pushed the covers back.

“I’m just going to clean up,” you said into the darkness, and he raised his head.

“Oh, right,” he fumbled, “I’ll get you a washcloth.”

You pressed his shoulder back into the bed as he sat up.

“It’s okay,” you mumbled, “I’ll get it.”

With your arms outstretched, you followed the walls into the bathroom to clean up. It was usually always something he did for you, bring you a warm washcloth and even wipe you clean, but you knew he was tired. He probably still didn’t have his head screwed on straight, you rationalized, and he’d be back to himself after some much needed rest and relaxation. You cleaned yourself off and shut the light, making your way back to bed. He was already snoring, his rhythmic breaths breaking the silence in the room. You crawled back into bed, grabbing his wrist and looping it around your waist. He stirred, curling in around you and pressing his lips to your ear.

“I’m sorry tiger,” he mumbled, “I should’ve done that.”

“It’s fine,” you murmured. You titled your head for a kiss, raising a hand to run through his hair as he tightened his arms around you.

“This guy got to me,” he admitted, “He’s a hard one to shake.”

“But he’s done now,” you slowly rolled over so you were facing him, and after another peck to his lips you tucked your head under his chin, “You don’t ever have to be him again.”

“Until re-shoots,” he laughed with a snort, and you smiled into his chest.

“Those are a long time from now,” you sighed as you kissed his chest, “I love you, bud.”

“Love you too, kid.”

You looped your arms around him, scratching idly at his back until you heard his breaths even out. You shifted, stretching out muscles that were already sore and sucking in a harsh breath when you went to rest on your back. It hurt too much already, your stinging backside and some of the bruises already emerging, so you tucked into his chest and rested your cheek over his heart to let the rhythmic beating lull you into a fitful sleep.

The ache was the first thing that you noticed when you woke up the next morning. It wasn’t abnormal to be a bit sore after a night when you had been so rough with each other, but this was a little worse than usual. Stretching your legs until your knees cracked, you winced as you rolled over onto your back—you could feel the bruises on your backside, the skin raw and tender. You rolled your wrists and flinched, they were aching from when he had held them over your head in a vice grip, but you shook them out and reached for him in bed, seeking his warmth and his comfort.

Neither were to be found as you rolled right into a pillow, opening one eye to look for him. You raised your head when he wasn’t in your line of sight, looking around before you spotted him on the balcony with a cigarette in his hand. He jumped when you opened the patio door, and his face dropped when he saw the distressed look on yours.

“Why did you leave?” You stammered, pulling the hem of your night shirt down.

“Hey kid,” he started, “I’m sorry, I thought you’d be out for a little while longer. It’s early.”

He stubbed the cigarette out immediately, standing and walking to you as you anxiously ran your hand through your hair.

“Bill you never leave the bed after a night like we had,” you said and your voice trembled, “You’re always there when I wake up.”

Your breath came in raggedly and he placed his hands on your arms.

“Tiger, hey, easy,” he said as he took your face in his hands, “You’re okay, kid. I’m right here.”

“But you always stay in bed,” you accused, “To make sure I wake up okay.”

“I just needed a cigarette, tiger,” he said gently, “I’m sorry. I’m right here. Come on back to bed.”

And you had let him carry you back to bed and stay with you for awhile, tending to some of the more sore spots that you had told him about. He seemed like his old self then, bringing you coffee and tutting softly as he ran his hands over you, kissing over some of your emerging bruises. He had showered with you like he always did, helped with the zipper on your sundress and placed a soft kiss on your neck like he always did, grabbing your hand on the way out the door for breakfast. You were a little slow moving, the bruises on your thighs from his tight grip and the ache between your legs from the way he had pounded into you still had you moving a little gingerly, and it didn’t go unnoticed. When the elevator doors closed he let out a deep sigh, turning and backing you slowly into the corner.

“Tiger, I really am sorry,” he murmured, grabbing your chin gently and tilting it up towards him, “I shouldn’t have let you wake up like that after last night. I fucked up, kid.”

He kissed you tenderly, barely brushing his lips with yours and you put your hands on his chest.

“It’s okay,” you tilted your head for another kiss and fiddled with the neckline of his shirt nervously, “Just….just don’t do that again, Bill. It was awful.”

He nodded solemnly and jumped away from you when the doors opened and more people got on. But he squeezed your hand reassuringly, raising it to his lips to kiss each of your knuckles before keeping hold of it.

It seemed, at least for a little while, that his gentleness had come back—until the waitress messed up his coffee order at breakfast, and he uncharacteristically snapped at her. She pursed her lips, looking like she was one more rude comment away from dumping the entire pot on his lap, but ultimately nodded politely and turned to get him the right order as you glared across the table.

“Bill, what the fuck was that?” You kept your tone low but harsh, and he glanced up at you passively.

“It’s coffee, tiger, not fucking rocket science,” he retorted, and you looked at him incredulously.

“And you couldn’t tell her nicely?” You hissed.

“I did that the first time and it didn’t work, did it?” He flicked his eyes to yours before focusing back on his menu. You mouth hung open before you cleared your throat, calmly taking a sip of your champagne.

“Bill.”

“Hmm?” He didn’t look up.

“Bill,” you said more forcefully, and tapped his shin with your foot. Keeping his head down, he raised his eyebrows as his eyes flicked up to yours.

“What tiger?” He replied in the same tone. You reached across the table, grabbing both of his hands and staring him down.

“I’m going to say this once, bud,” you said, “This guy I’m with right now? He’s not you. He’s shades of the guy you just spent 6 weeks pretending to be. And he better get the fuck out of you right fucking now, before I make him get the fuck out. Understand?”

He didn’t react, and you flicked his knuckles.

“Understand?” You repeated; he nodded slightly and had the decency to look at least a little bashful.

“Yeah kid, I get it,” he mumbled.

“Good,” and you released his hands, turning your attention back to your menu. The air was tense, heavy with awkwardness, but a few seconds later Bill rose slowly. Your eyes followed him and you saw him approach the waitress, slowly put a hand on her arm and apologize. She smiled a half smile, nodding and managing a little laugh before patting his hand in reassurance. When he came back to the table he stepped behind you, looping his arms around your shoulders and putting his lips at your ear. He gave you a gentle kiss on your earlobe before nuzzling his nose in there.

“He’s a hard one to shake,” he mumbled.

“Well, you better shake him before I do, bud,” you said honestly, “I don’t like this version of you.”

He sighed softly, mumbling another apology in your ear before kissing your cheek. He grabbed his chair, bringing it around to sit beside you instead and lacing his fingers with yours.

He had straightened out more over the course of the day, making a conscious effort to relax a little. Shades of his normal self shone through when he snuck up behind you to fold you into his arms, when he gently brushed your hair back and braided it for you before dinner—plucking a tropical flower from the hedges by the balcony to place over your ear. He seemed a little more like himself during dinner, taking a seat beside you on wooden chairs plunked in the sand, his thigh pressed to yours, his eyes starting to clear from their fog of the past few days. A little of the impatience still lingered, the curtness and annoyance when something went wrong, but you were willing to acknowledge the progress already. But halfway through dinner, the air changed again. And when he leaned forward, biting your earlobe and surreptitiously passing your hand over the bulge in his shorts, you took in a deep breath.

“I need you kid,” he breathed in your ear, “Now.”

And then you were being hauled up, nearly running after him as he held onto your hand and took big strides to your room. The minute the door closed behind you, he was shoving your back against it. He bit at your lips as his hands grabbed at you, tugging your dress as he tried to find the zipper. You flinched as he bit your neck, his hands gripping the fabric at the back of your dress and you felt his arms tense.

“Whoa whoa whoa,” your hands flew back to grab his just in time, “Don’t rip this dress, I like it.”

“Then get it the fuck off, tiger,” he growled and you winced a little as he pulled you forward and slammed you into the wall instead, jamming his knee between your legs. He kissed you hard, knocking the back of your head into the wall as he groaned into your mouth—but then you were moving again, being pulled forward as the zipper on your dress was yanked down, the straps pulled down your arms before he lifted you and clutched you to his front. You tried to breathe, to calm your racing heart—you had been rough with each other before and you always enjoyed it, but this time it felt more…unsettling. Maybe because Bill had barely seemed like himself for the entire trip, maybe because you were still so sore from when he had let it all out last night, maybe because it seemed that there wasn’t a single part of you that wasn’t being bitten or pinched or grabbed harshly. He pulled his hand back from where it had your thigh in a vice grip, landing it hard on your ass and you yelped, wincing. It just seemed to spur him on more as he bit on your lower lip, pulling back and spanking you again. You sucked a tense breath in through your teeth, barely stopping the pained whimper that escaped, and then you were flying in the air as he threw you onto the bed and pounced on top of you.

You tried to tell yourself that this was Bill, your best friend, someone you loved and felt safe with—but the fear was getting away on you. He was just so big now, a lot bigger than you were used to seeing him, and there was so much anger to him in everything he did. You hadn’t seen any of the gentleness that always seemed right at the surface even when he rough-housed you, you hadn’t seen any of the calmness and comfort he always seemed to exude when you needed it, and he hadn’t once faltered in his heated, aggressive pace where you could usually see hints of the boyish smile peak through. There was none of that, instead he was hurried and rough and chased his own pleasure, his hands were strong as they grabbed and pulled at you, and his usually soft lips were curled over teeth that bit and nipped at you just a little harder than you were used to.

You held onto his shoulders, squeaking as he ripped your panties off. He grabbed your hand to lace his fingers with yours and you breathed a small sigh of relief, but when he slammed into you without warning every muscle in your body tightened and you let out a pained grunt. It hurt—it hurt a lot. You were still so sensitive from last night, still aching in all the same places, and as he pulled back and slammed into you again, the pain got too much.

“Red,” you choked out, and he stilled immediately, “Red red red.”

In a flash, he was off of you. He pulled back, untangling all of his limbs from you and pulling out of you as fast as he could while you winced. He put distance between you—a lot of distance—crouching on the floor at the foot of the bed so you wouldn’t even feel his presence on the mattress. And you needed it—you needed space, to try and calm down. You took a ragged breath in, cupping your hands over your face as a small sob escaped on the exhale.

You counted to ten, trying to get at least three decent breaths in. You couldn’t stop a few tears from falling down your cheeks as you started to cry, keeping your hands pressed to your face as you sat up. You tried to talk yourself down—to remind yourself that this was Bill, and Bill would never hurt you on purpose. Things had gotten out of hand, escalated a bit too quickly, and it had freaked you out because you weren’t sure who he was anymore. He didn’t have his usual gentleness, his calmness, and you needed to sense that when things were starting to get a bit rough, you needed to still feel safe and know that it wouldn’t get too far. But he hadn’t seemed himself, you hadn’t sensed any of your best friend still in there, and when it started to get really intense you didn’t feel safe with whoever he seemed to be in that moment.

But it was still Bill. He was still hiding in there somewhere, maybe a little deeper than usual. And when you said your safe word, he had stopped immediately. And if you had let him know just a little earlier that it was a bit too rough, a bit too intense, that he seemed a bit less like himself—he would have been the one to stop it all, comfort you, make sure you were okay. It was still Bill, no matter what.

But instead he watched helplessly as your shoulders shook softly, watched you try and breathe properly to stifle the crying. He wanted so badly to reach for you, but he knew the boundaries you both had set—red meant you were at your limit. Red meant you couldn’t handle anymore, that you were in pain or scared or both. Red meant he wasn’t allowed to touch you, not even talk to you, until you told him it was okay.

He felt his chest crush with guilt—he had pushed you too far. He had pushed you to the point where he scared you, caused you pain. He bit his lip, running his hand through his hair as he waited agonizingly for your next move. For you to tell him he could touch you, hold you, comfort you the way he needed to. He hoped you would let him.

A sniffle broke through your ragged breaths and he watched as you shook your head lightly and swiped at your tears with the back of your hand.

“Bill,” you held it out to him, “Come here, please. Slowly.”

“Tiger…” he murmured, but the rest of the words died on his lips. He didn’t even know what to say. He rose to his feet, keeping his movements slow and deliberate as he crawled onto the bed. When his chest hit your extended hand, you flattened your palm on it.

“Stop,” you whispered, and he halted. Reaching down, you grabbed his hand and laced your fingers with his. You took a shaky breath in, squeezing his hand. He stayed stoic, your thumb stroking over his knuckles for what seemed like an eternity.

“Talk, please,” you said feebly, “Just say anything.”

“Tiger,” he whispered, and you could hear the pain in his voice, “I’m so, so sorry kid.”

You sniffled, tightening your grip on his hand and he squeezed back.

“You’re safe,” he continued, “It’s just me and you here. You’re safe, kid. Something just scared you, that’s all.”

“You did,” you mumbled lowly, “You scared me.”

You heard his sharp intake of breath, and you glanced up in time to see the tortured look in his eye. Those eyes—those eyes, you knew. Kind and gentle, warm, worried—you held his gaze as he bit his lip.

“Kid, are you hurt?” He tried softly, and you nodded slightly. You heard his hard swallow.

“How hurt?” He asked, “Hospital hurt?”

You shook your head.

“Did…did I hurt you?”

You nodded. His heart sank.

“Tiger, can I come closer?” His voice broke, and he squeezed your hand lightly. You nodded.

“Can I hold you?” He asked, and you nodded again. Ducking his head, he caught your gaze as your eyes flitted to his.

“Yes?’ He looked for confirmation.

“Yes,” you sniffled, “Move slowly, please.”

And he did. Moving to sit cross legged in front of you, he reached a tentative arm out and pulled you gently into his lap as you winced, keeping his movements slow and predictable. Once you were settled against his chest, he wrapped his arms around you and pressed his nose to yours. He took a steadying breath in.

“Is this okay?” He asked, and you nodded.

“Can you talk to me, kid?” He pleaded, “Tell me what happened?”

You exhaled a deep breath, swiping at your tears and picking at your fingernails.

“Bill, you…I got….” You paused when your lip started to quiver, taking a moment to calm down, “I don’t know who you are, this week.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him just yet, so you kept your eyes focused on your lap.

“You’re so angry all the time, so aggressive and short tempered and…and rough. And now you’re huge, and you were so rough yesterday and you didn’t take care of me after and I’m so sore. I hurt everywhere. And when you came at me again tonight I just…I got…scared.”

It was Bill’s turn to pause, close his eyes to try and process it all, but you kept babbling nervously.

“I’m fine with rough because I know that I’m always safe with you. But you haven’t been YOU this whole trip and last night hurt but not enough to stop but this morning really hurt and then you weren’t there when I woke up and I was so sore and tonight you were being so rough again and you’re so big now Bill and everything about you is so angry and I was too sore and it was too much and you just….”

Nothing else came out, and at your silence he raised his eyes to yours. He reached his hand for your cheek, pausing to open his palm a few inches from your face and wait for you to nod. You did, and his thumb stroked your cheek lightly.

“Tiger, last night…” he whispered, “Did I do something that you didn’t want? Did I go too far?”

“No,” you said honestly, “It was…rough. But I enjoyed it last night.”

“Did it scare you?”

“A little,” you admitted, “You didn’t seem like…you.”

He took a deep breath in.

“And tonight? I hurt you?” He asked.

“Yes.”

“And I did something you didn’t want?”

You shook your head forcefully.

“No,” you emphasized, “I said my safe word before it got there. And you stopped.”

“Tiger, can you look at me sweetheart?” He asked, “It’s okay if you can’t yet.”

But a gentle kiss to your temple and his warm hands running up your sides helped ground you, helped confirm that it was Bill now, the Bill you knew, trying to comfort you. You brought your gaze reluctantly to his.

“Thanks,” he murmured, “Tiger, I don’t ever want to hurt you. Ever. And I don’t ever want you to be afraid of me.”

He stopped when his voice cracked, taking a deep breath in.

“I have no excuses kid, none. I have no excuses for leaving you this morning after being so rough with you last night, I have no excuses for snapping at you and everyone else this week, I have no excuses for being so rough and careless with you again tonight.”

“Bill I like it when you’re rough,” you mumbled, but he gently placed a finger over your lips.

“I know, but I took it too far. I need to do better. Tiger I’m so, so sorry. I would never hurt you on purpose, and I never want to scare you. I’m sorry, kid. I’ll do better.”

You sniffled gently, burrowed further into him and he pulled you closer.

“Thank you for saying your safe word,” he continued, “Thank you for stopping me when you didn’t feel safe anymore or when it didn’t feel good. That takes courage, kid. You did good.”

You nodded, fiddling with the chain around his neck and wiping a fresh set of tears from your cheeks. He shifted you so you were facing him, spanning his hands across your cheeks as he kept his eyes on yours.

“I’m sorry, tiger,” he murmured, “I’m sorry I hurt you. And I’m sorry I scared you.”

“Apology accepted,” you sniffled, kissing him gently.

“Are you okay? Can you tell me what I can do to make it better for you now?” He still looked so distraught, so torn up over the whole thing as he rested his forehead gently on yours.

“You can start off by kissing me,” you said, “A real good one, like you usually do.”

He tilted your chin up to lay his lips on yours. It was everything the last few days had lacked—it was gentle, warm, full of softness. He pulled away slowly but when your lips chased his, he kissed you again and waited until you broke away first.

“I want a bath please,” you requested, “A bubble bath.” You wanted closeness, you wanted his arms around you, and the hot water would do wonders for your aches and pains.

“A bubble bath? Okay. I…I can do that,” he nodded, “Can I pick you up?”

You nodded, but you wanted to make one more thing clear to him so you stayed his arms when he reached for you. He misinterpreted your move, retracting his arms as if he had been burnt, taking a big step back from you even as you grabbed for him.

“I’m sorry,” he stuttered, “You said it was okay. I thought—”

You sighed, rubbing at your eyes and taking a steadying breath.

“Bill, it is okay,” you reassured, “Come back here.”

“Tiger—” he hesitated, but you held your hand up.

“No. Bill, right now this is still about what I need. And I need you to come back here and put your arms around me,” you gave him a second to spring into action and he did, gathering you gently in his arms.

“And now, I need you to listen,” you turned so you were facing him, taking his chin in your hands.

“Bud, this doesn’t change…us. Our dynamic. What we do. I don’t want this to change what we do. I enjoy it when you’re a little rough with me,” you explained, but he shook his head stubbornly.

“Tiger, I hurt you. I scared you. This is going to change our dynamic,” he insisted, “I don’t want to be rough with you anymore.”

“In that moment, what you were doing scared me. And the aftermath of yesterday was what hurt me. Bill, I’m not afraid of you. And I know you would never hurt me. As soon as I let you know I wasn’t okay, you stopped. The very reason why safe words exist is so that your partner—whom you love and trust—doesn’t push you too far,” you said. He looked unconvinced.

“I don’t want our dynamic to change. And I want you to know that. Now if you don’t feel comfortable being rough with me anymore because you’re scared, that’s a limit we can talk about. But we’ll talk about it tomorrow, because I am exhausted, I am still sore, and I need you to hold me for a lot longer.”

“Not because I’m scared,” you clarified, coaxing his arms tighter around you, “But because I missed you, because you make me feel safe, because you’re warm, and because you finally seem like yourself again.”

You patted his shoulder, jutting your chin until he got the message and stood to bring you into the bathroom while he drew the bath. He tested the water, putting extra bubbles in it before stepping in and holding his hand out to you. He sat down slowly and waited for your next move, but without hesitation you sat between his legs, leaning your back against his chest. He let out a deep sigh.

“Tiger—“ he started, but you cut him off.

“We’re done apologizing, bud. We’re okay,” you confirmed, craning your neck back for a kiss.

Another deep sigh rang in your ear, but he pressed his lips to your temple and left them there

“I’ve got promises to keep,” he murmured.

“And miles to go before I sleep.”

#bill skarsgard #sub tiger #BFF!Bill #bill skarsgard fic #bill skarsgard drabble

223 notes · View notes

ober-affen-geil · 4 years

Note

Riley, you are one of the few people I know who loves Shakespeare as much as I do. Which makes me want to ask you the tough question: do you have a favorite play? Or a favorite memory associated with a play? Do share 😁🤓

*vibrates a normal amount*

Hnnngggg ok. Ok so I said before that my first, my very first, introduction to Shakespeare was Romeo and Juliet in 9th grade and I hated it. It left me with the impression that Shakespeare was just another one of those things that people liked because it was old and therefore A Classic and I didn’t get what was actually compelling about a story where two kids died in such a preventable way. (Again please also recognize I was a baby aroace who Super Did Not Get It and still Does Not because it’s fucking dumb ok.)

I remember liking learning about the language, because again, this was our introduction to “Shakespeare” as a whole and while we only read one play we also were taught about iambic pentameter and the sonnet form at the same time. I remember thinking that part was cool but disliking the actual play. And we did even watch a version in class, this wasn’t a question of “oh I didn’t get it because I couldn’t see it acted” (we’ll come back to that) we watched the Zepherelli version in class and actually had the option of staying after school to watch the Leo DiCaprio one too. I saw both and still didn’t like the story.

But.

In 10th grade we read Macbeth. And crucially, before we got to it in class, my mom decided I was old enough she was allowed to start using me as an excuse to see plays that she wanted to go to. This included the production my high school drama club was putting on which was a dinner theatre style play called “A Banquet at Dunsinane”.

What it was was essentially the last half of Macbeth starting at the banquet scene where Macbeth sees the ghost and everything starts going to hell in a handbasket. The “dinner theatre” part of it was that the audience functioned as all the filler guests at the banquet; we were set up in the school’s cafeteria arranged in a long rectangle with a “head table” for the actors and the stage space in the middle.

I know there’s been plenty of stuff written about how live actors feed off the audience energy in the room and how live performances are unique and charged with a special kind of energy that’s only able to be there because of the relationship and the implicit trust between the performers and the audience but the fact of the matter is, live theatre hits different.

You can read the stage directions for Lady Macduff running off stage from her son’s murderer and you can see an actor do it on screen but when you are sitting in the room when she runs for her life literally screaming bloody murder (the stage direction is “Exit Lady Macduff crying ‘murder’ pursued by murderers” and the girl doing it in the version I saw had a hell of a set of pipes on her, she also actually physically exited the building through the cafeteria doors and the SLAM of the push bar when she hit it was An Effect let me tell you) it just hits different.

After that I was absolutely hooked, so if you want my opinion it’s this: if you want someone to get into a play, any play but Shakespeare especially, watch it before you read it and make sure it’s a live performance. Either actually attending one or finding a recording of one works imo, but the live aspect of it makes all the difference. Now. This is the part where I link a bunch of Shakespeare stuff I think is cool lol.

This is the YouTube page for the National Theatre in Britain, they’ve been putting some of their past Shakespeare performances up for free (temporarily) because of COVID so if you keep an eye on it you might be able to see some really cool shit. They just had “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” up, that was awesome.

This is a short video with a linguist and his (actor) son talking about “original pronunciation” in Shakespearian works and how they’ve been able (more or less) to “reconstruct” the “accent” that Shakespearian works “should” have been performed it; the accent that makes rhymes actually work and reveal puns (filthy puns because this is Shakespeare ofc) that we’ve lost to time because pronunciation changes. It’s really fucking cool and I highly recommend.

This is The Complete Works of William Shakespeare, Abridged which is imo a must-watch for every Shakespeare fan, it is absolutely hysterical and is clearly written and performed by people who love and appreciate Shakespeare. I’ve seen it live twice as well as this version, 10/10 recommend.

Other Shakespeare things I recommend: - Slings and Arrows, a Canadian show about a theatre company trying to put on Shakespeare plays while hijinks ensue, each season arc ends up loosely mirroring the play they are putting on. (s1: Hamlet, s2: Macbeth, s3: King Lear) - Bill, a comedy/satire about “Shakespeare’s beginnings” done by the same people who do “Horrible Histories”. It’s witty and referential and includes a trans character (if you would like details on that please message me). - Shakespeare in Love, a movie (romcom mostly but also kinda not) about Shakespeare writing Romeo and Juliet while also lowkey living it. A lot better than the title suggests imo and I love it for the audience at the end reacting to the death scenes because it’s the first time anyone has seen how Romeo and Juliet ends. - ShakespeaRetold, a mini series the BBC put together that is modern adaptations of Macbeth, Much Ado About Nothing, A Midsummer Night’s Dream, and The Taming of the Shrew. (This is the version of Macbeth with James MacAvoy and the “when pigs fly” thing which is great, and the version of Much Ado where Hero is played by Billie Piper and at the end she’s basically like “no fuck you, you’re a dick” which is HELLA GREAT.) I recommend it because this particular adaption actually made me LIKE Taming of the Shrew because of how they played it which is a MASSIVE accomplishment because that show is pretty controversial. This is the clip I show people as an example of why I love it.

Anyway I love Shakespeare a normal amount, why do you ask.

#personal #rant #ask #shakespeare #a riley special

24 notes · View notes

sinceileftyoublog · 3 years

Text

New Bums Interview: Married Couple Vibe

BY JORDAN MAINZER

Unlike the mathematical approach of Six Organs of Admittance or the wound jangly pop of Skygreen Leopards, Ben Chasny and Donovan Quinn’s New Bums is like its name: contemporary slacker vibes, loose playing, easy, gorgeous tunes. The band’s first record, Voices in a Rented Room, came out in 2014, and almost immediately afterwards, they started recording its follow-up. It wouldn’t be released until this March, as the more layered but just as lackadaisical Last Time I Saw Grace (Drag City). Both Chasny and Quinn write songs, and each plays off the other one’s style as much as presenting their own. For instance, on the energetic “Oblieration Time”, which juxtaposes soloing and acoustic strumming, Chasny attempted to write lyrics like Quinn. As for Quinn’s lyrics, more generally, Chasny’s instrumentation shifts them. “One of the great things about songwriting [is] the way the lyrics come across versus what they actually mean,” Quinn said on a Zoom call earlier this year with me and Chasny. “The same words can be funny, sad, [or] ironic depending on the instrumentation behind [them]. It’s really fun to see what Ben does.” Chasny agrees that instrumentation matters, not citing a general philosophy but rather a YouTube video with almost 10 million views that overlays a scene of Darth Vader visiting the Death Star with a snippet of Spandau Ballet’s “True”.

Indeed, the buddy quality of New Bums shines through when they’re in the same room--even a virtual one. They laugh and play with each other and finish each other’s sentences, having been friends for a long time. But such a laid-back feeling wouldn’t be possible without each member’s distinct personalities. Chasny, knowing I was set to interview Chris Corsano later that day about his and Bill Orcutt’s excellent Made Out Of Sound, had me communicate an inside joke to Corsano, with whom he shares a band, Rangda. (The joke? Telling Corsano that he should make a pack of beats called “Chris Corsano’s Breakbeats,” to which Corsano cackled and replied, “You’ve been talking to Chasny.”) Chasny’s also self-deprecating: “I’m not a very good violin player, but the last song has me on the violin,” he shrugs about Last Time’s “Follow Them Up the Slope”. And he forgets the titles of the songs, facetiously chalking it up to the album’s lyrical themes of decay. Quinn, simply, is humble and go-with-the-flow.

Underneath it all are some serious aesthetic and instrumental chops from the both of them, a mix of guitars, harmonium (the circular “So Long, Kus”), violin, and keyboards. Opener “Billy, God Damn” is twangy and layered. “Onward to Devastation” features tasty riffing following the lilting folk of “Marlene Left California”. “Wild Dogs” shimmers, while “Hermitage Song” stuns with deep string textures. All in all, Chasny and Quinn talk about these songs with the same exuberance they do their other projects, or music by Corsano and Orcutt, or even legendary records by 90′s German drone artists. Music fans make music makers, and music bums never fade.

Read my conversation with them below, edited for length and clarity.

Since I Left You: What’s unique about Last Time I Saw Grace as compared to Voices in a Rented Room?

Donovan Quinn: I think both of the records come from the same place. A buddy record is the way I would put it, where it grew out of me and Ben in a room, playing two guitars, talking about ideas and records we admired. This one, we built the songs up a little bit more, added some layers to the songs with overdubs, and really added some depth to a lot of the compositions with vocal and guitar work and different synths, whereas the first one we tried to keep it as barebones as possible.

Ben Chasny: Yeah. I would say the first one was more slopdog, like a mutt running wild, and this one isn’t showdog level, but trimming up the dog a little bit, teaching it a couple tricks.

SILY: Maybe album 3 will be showdog.

BC: Yeah. I think it’ll probably take a poop right in front of everybody, but it will still be up there.

SILY: Those layers are what I noticed from the get-go, on [opener] “Billy. God Damn”. Is that why you decided to have it first on the record and release it ahead of time?

BC: We ran through a number of sequences on the record. It just felt like a good one to start out with. There are definitely more vocal layers on this than the other record we did for sure.

DQ: Yeah, I don’t have a clear memory of recording a lot of these songs because we did it over a long period of time, and “Billy God Damn” is one of those songs. I think we put it first because it set a good tone for the rest of the record.

SILY: The sequencing definitely struck me. It goes back and forth between more up-tempo tracks like “Obliteration Time Two” and more lilting tracks like “Marlene Left California”. Is that something you had in mind when ultimately deciding on the order of the tracks?

BC: I think so, yeah, trying to balance it out without having one of the sides of the records being too much one direction.

SILY: I love records like this where the palate is mostly vocals and guitars but you throw in a wildcard like the harmonium, or the cello on “Street of Spies”. It makes those songs stand out.

DQ: “Street of Spies” has our buddy Jason Quever on cello who has a band called Papercuts. I work a lot with Jason and he was kind enough to put some cello on that one.

BC: He did the drums and some of the strings on the first record, too.

SILY: You could say the whole album has a loose quality, but on that song especially, you kept the false start and the countdown from the live recording.

DQ: We do like that kind of sketchbook vibe with our records.

BC: [laughs] I have a feeling I know what you’re gonna say, Donovan.

DQ: I’m not gonna say what you think I’m gonna say...Me and Ben have known each other for so long, it’s a married couple vibe where we know what the other person is gonna say or is thinking...With the way you can record records now, it’s pretty easy to really get things lined up and cleaned up. We thought with New Bums, it would be kind of a nice contrast to not do that, to keep things a little bit frayed.

SILY: It goes with the aesthetic suggested by the band name, too.

DQ: Yeah, exactly.

SILY: Did anything inspire the lyrics specifically?

DQ: Not anything specifically, but over time, both me and Ben writing, we kind of developed a sense of a type of record lyrically, and it seemed to be a lot of songs about decay and certain kinds of desperation. We built from that, not totally consciously, but everything seemed to gravitate towards it.

BC: I will say, when I wrote some of the lyrics to the song “Obliteration Time”, I was actually trying to write songs like Donovan’s band Skygreen Leopards, and I was hoping he would pick up on it. I was like, “Did you pick up on it?” He was like, “No, I didn’t at all.” That was what I was trying to do.

SILY: In some ways, you still have a ways to go in your marriage, then.

BC: Yeah, a lot of ways.

SILY: What were you going for on the first line of “Street of Spies”, “Who gives a fuck about clemency?”

DQ: You know, I don’t remember. And when we were listening back to different vocal takes, there was one that was so unusually angry for me that Ben was saying I sounded like Rage Against the Machine or something, so we changed it. I don’t know. It’s just meant to have the language contrast the mellow vibe of the song. I like that style when if you have a mellow song with lyrics that contradict that feel.

SILY: What’s the inspiration behind the album title?

BC: It’s a line [on the album]. When you listen to [the] song, you realize it’s the name of a woman, Grace, but in context on the front of the record, it has a different meaning, which we thought would be kind of fun. You listen to the record, and you realize, “Ah, I see what they’re talking about.”

DQ: That was kind of a last-minute title. I think we got lucky with it. It fits really well with the kind of themes developed in the record: decay, desperation, etc.

SILY: Is Grace a real person or just a character?

Both: Just a character.

SILY: What’s the inspiration behind the cover art?

BC: Donovan had the concept behind the art.

DQ: We were gonna see if anyone noticed this, but if you look at the first cover and the second cover, it’s basically the same elements, but we took things away. The first one has the two triangles, and it’s pictures of me and Ben, and this one doesn’t have any pictures. The idea is for every album to have the same basic design that takes elements away to eventually have nothing at all.

SILY: What are you gonna lose on the next one? One of the triangles?

BC: Possibly. That’s when I get kicked out of the band.

SILY: Or it’s self-titled, and you can use New Bums as the band and the title.

DQ: The other day, something cool happened that reminded me of the cover and the two triangles. It doesn’t totally work, but I did this video that heavily references ZZ Top. For the video, we bought a couple of ZZ Top magical keychains, and I was trying to open a box with it, but the fucking thing broke! But the two extreme points of the keys broke off, and what’s left looks a lot like the two triangles.

BC: The original record cover from the first record was based on one of my favorite records, pretty much a tribute to it, a band called The Black Vial. He did a record called Frozen Morning in maybe the mid-90s. He did 300 of them, this German guy, Liebried Loch. They were wrapped in black electric tape, and that’s what held the photograph on. This really gorgeous looking record, one of the most dark, depressing records I’ve ever heard in my life. It’s just droning on electric guitar on a practice amp, really distorted, singing songs like, “Black crows, flying no more!” We based the original artwork off that record and then modified it.

SILY: Have you thought about doing a live stream or socially distant show?

BC: We should try to figure out how to do it together. We still have to figure out Zoom. We may not do Zoom a lot. We’re more Google. We know technology.

SILY: You’re not Luddites?

BC: We have most of our meetings on Google Hangouts.

DQ: New Bums has a lot of meetings, and we spend a lot of time together, so it’s surprising it’s taken us 5 years to do two albums and two tours.

BC: We do have some great video footage from that tour a couple years back filmed at a bookstore in San Francisco called Adobe Books, and I think we’re gonna put that out for people to check out.

SILY: Were some of the songs from this record performed there?

BC: Yeah, we [did] “Cover Band”.

SILY: Anything you’ve been listening to, watching, or reading lately that’s caught your attention?

DQ: I’ve been watching a lot of movies more than anything else. I have the Criterion Channel service, so I’ve been finding a lot of inspiration in that. I was just recommending the movie Close-up to Ben, if you want to feel that doing any kind of artistic endeavor might have some meaning, it’s worth it.

BC: I’ve been watching a lot of Poirot. That guy’s great. His relationship with Hastings is quite similar to Donovan and me, though I won’t say who is Poirot and who’s Hastings.

Last Time I Saw Grace by New Bums

1 note · View note

blurrypetals · 3 years

Text

Better Together by Christine Riccio - blurrypetals review

originally posted feb. 3, 2021 - ★☆☆☆☆

An ARC was provided by NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. How to begin! This is my first ARC and, after nearly 6 years of reviewing every book I read, I was excited for the opportunity to read something in advance. I am still very excited! It is a really wonderful privilege to be able to read a book that isn't out yet. It was not, however, a privilege to read this book. This book was―and I cannot stress this enough―bad. While I didn't like Christine Riccio's first effort, Again, But Better, it still had some structure to it that made sense and, even if I didn't like it, it still had things about it where I could see why others might enjoy it, which is why I rated it a 2 of 5 and called it done. I didn't loathe Again, But Better but I did loathe Better Together. If this hadn't been baby's first ARC, I would not have finished this book. I usually never finish books I dislike as much as this unless they are so bad that they become funny. This couldn't even get to that point, this was just plain bad. This book was painful. One thing that kicked things off in a really poor fashion was Riccio's inability to distinguish the two girls' inner voices from one another. I was constantly having to thumb back to the top of a chapter just to check if it was a Siri or a Jamie chapter. And okay, yes, let's talk about names, shall we? I really hated the name Pilot Penn in Again, But Better but Riccio really had to outdo herself when she legitimately, actually, really named her two main characters after Jamie and Cersei Lannister from Game of Thrones. This is something that is acknowledged in the text because the parents are mega freaks for Game of Thrones, and Riccio attempts to play it for laughs, but I'm sorry, there is no parent in the world, especially not people who are actually fans of those characters, who would legitimately name two siblings after the world's most famous incestuous siblings, and the fact that Riccio had the idea for it and kept it in is honestly a bit troubling. The dual POV from each girl does make sense thematically, but functionally, it does very little to serve the story, as both girls are going through such a similar journey that the book goes through the same lessons twice, making the book twice as long as it needs to be. I would have preferred Again, But Better as dual POV over this. There is so much time dedicated at the beginning toward Jamie and Siri being just soOOooOO dIfFeReNt that it was pretty painful from the start, especially with the lack of proper distinctive voices between the sisters' inner monologues. Not only are we basically given a laundry list of reasons why these girls are such opposites, but nobody talks like a real person in this book, least of all our main characters. Jamie swears like a sailor, but they're cute, colorful swears that nobody in real life would use! How different! Siri refuses to swear, instead using the word excrement instead of shit or intercourse instead of fuck. Again, this is played as a way to supposedly show how different the sisters are, but instead it only proves they do the same "look how quirky!" B.S. and it does nothing to endear the reader to them, only proving they are cartoon caricatures of caricatures, nowhere close to being relatable or interesting. So, let's get into the basic plot and setup, shall we? This book bills itself as an homage to Freaky Friday and The Parent Trap. How do I know this? Not only is that listed on the inside flap (which is fine, I'd like to establish; there's nothing wrong with listing your comps on the inside flap) but it's repeated multiple times in the text that the girls are in the middle of a Parent Trap-Freaky Friday situation. I don't know about you guys, though, but when I'm reading an homage to something, I really don't love it when the characters announce they are in the middle of an homage and then say the title of the thing the homage is to. I think Christine has a pop culture problem. Her whole life is centered around the things she watches, reads, and listens to. That's okay, so is mine! There's nothing wrong with that, in my opinion. There is, however, a problem with dragging constant pop culture references into your writing. Timothée Chalamet plays a weirdly large role here for some reason. I do not care to ever hear a Game of Thrones reference in anything ever again, because this has enough of them to cover me for the rest of my life. We also get Billie Eilish, Men in Black, and a plethora of other things here that only serve to make the reference to the thing and leave, adding nothing to the story and leaving me groaning in its wake. It's nowhere near as bad as it was in Again, But Better but it's still pretty bad here. Using a pop culture reference is not always a lazy choice; sometimes it can build your setting or show something your character is interested in, but rather than referencing something real, Christine could instead use her creativity to create a new, different show that the girls' parents were into, making all those constant Game of Thrones references feel more original and important to the story, rather than pulling a random bluray off her shelf and calling it good. I'd like to challenge Christine to write a book with no pop culture references. She may not be able to help herself. Speaking of laziness, the magic in this book feels particularly lackluster, even in comparison to the sorry excuse for magic in Again, But Better and, even before the magic begins, the girls are already planning to do a regular non-magical Parent Trap because they look so similar, so when the magic is introduced, it doesn't do much for the story. The girls also don't seem to learn much while in one another's shoes, making the justification for the magic feel entirely non-existent. There's also some weird business with glitter and sneezing that feels like a little too much in a post-COVID era, honestly. All in all, this was an extremely painful experience. I honestly have no idea how this book made it to this stage in the state it's in. It's extremely poorly written, pointless, and is filled to the brim with cringe, flat characters, and poor excuses for standup comedy routines. I really was willing to give Christine a chance to improve as a writer from her altogether lame debut, but unfortunately this only somehow proved to be worse.

#better together #christine riccio #again but better #2021 #arc #goodreads mirror #blurrypetals

2 notes · View notes

huntercftroy · 3 years

Photo

Option 1: we’re looking to highlight the differences between your canon mythology character and the oc you’ve created and built around them. for side a, include songs that apply to the myth, for side b, songs about your own character

Rocket Man: A Hector Playlist A little more melancholy. A few songs about him being a dad. Mostly related to him being a warrior, dying, and being put in tough positions. My dude.

Rocketman- Ninja Sex Party// Time in a Bottle- Jim Croce// Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door- Raign// Another One Bites the Dust- Queen// Hey Brother- Avicii// Stairway to Heaven- Led Zepplin// I’d Love to Change the World- Ten Years After// It’s the End of the World as We Know It- Islander// Mother Nature’s Son- The Beatles// Cat’s in the Cradle- Harry Chapin// Teach Your Children- Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young// The Boxer- Simon & Garfunkel// Black- Kari Kimmel// Lovely- Billie Eilish & Khalid// Sunday Bloody Sunday- U2// Gangsta’s Paradise- Coolio

Rock It Man: A Hunter Playlist Way more upbeat. A lot of songs related to being a musician. A lot of 90s. A chaotic child. My dude.

Better Days (And the Bottom Drops Out)- Citizen King// Glorious- Macklemore & Skylar Grey// Because- The Beatles// The Man- The Killers// Baba O’Riley- The Who// Clap For The Wolfman- The Guess Who// How Bizarre- OMC// Alright- Supergrass// Old Time Rock N’ Roll- Bob Seger// Soldier, Poet, King- The Oh Hellos// Point of Know Return- Kansas// Hazy Shade of Winter- The Bangles// The Passenger- Iggy Pop// Spirit in the Sky- Norman Greenbaum// Don’t Bring Me Down- ELO// Bang the Drum All Day- Todd Rundgren

Rocketman

Rocketman- Ninja Sex Party// Till touch down brings me round again to find I'm not the man they think I am at home

Time in A Bottle- Jim Croce// If I could make days last forever If words could make wishes come true I'd save every day like a treasure and then Again, I would spend them with you

Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door- RAIGN// Mama put my guns in the ground I can't shoot them anymore That cold black cloud is comin' around And I feel I'm knockin' on heaven's door

Another One Bites The Dust- Queen// There are plenty of ways that you can hurt a man And bring him to the ground

Hey Brother-Avicci// What if I'm far from home? Oh, brother, I will hear you call What if I lose it all? Oh, sister, I will help you out! Oh, if the sky comes falling down for you There's nothing in this world I wouldn't do

Stairway to Heaven- Led Zepplin// There's a feeling I get when I look to the west, And my spirit is crying for leaving.

I’d Love to Change the World- Ten Years After// I'd love to change the world - but I don't know what to do So I'll leave it up to you... Oh yeah

It’s the End of the World as We Know It- Islander// Uh oh, overflow, population, Common Food But it'll do. Save yourself, serve yourself World serves its own needs, listen to your heart bleed

Mother Nature’s Son- The Beatles// Sit beside a mountain stream, see her waters rise Listen to the pretty sound of music as she flies

Cat’s in the Cradle- Harry Chapin// My child arrived just the other day He came to the world in the usual way But there were planes to catch and bills to pay He learned to walk while I was away

Teach You Children - Crosby, Stills, Nash, & Young// You, who are on the road, Must have a code That you can live by. And so become yourself Because the past is just a goodbye.

The Boxer- Simon & Garfunkel// In the clearing stands a boxer And a fighter by his trade And he carries the remainders Of every glove that laid him down And cut him till he cried out

Black- Kari Kimmel// Far off in the distance Somewhere you can't see Allegiances have formed your destiny Opposition all around Feeding off your soul Trying hard to swallow up you whole

Lovely- Billie Eilish & Khalid// Heart made of glass, my mind of stone Tear me to pieces, skin to bone Hello, welcome home

Sunday Bloody Sunday- U2// But I won't heed the battle call It puts my back up Puts my back up against the wall

Gangsta’s Paradise- Coolio// Death ain't nothing but a heartbeat away, I'm living life, do or die, what can I say I'm 23 now, but will I live to see 24 The way things are going I don't know

Rock It Man

Better Days (And the Bottom Drops Out)- Citizen King// One foot in the hole One foot getting deeper With a broken mirror and a blown-out speaker I ain't got much else to lose

Glorious- Macklemore & Skylar Grey// I heard you die twice, once when they bury you in the grave And the second time is the last time that somebody mentions your name So when I leave here on this earth, did I take more than I gave?

Because- The Beatles// Because the wind is high it blows my mind Because the wind is high

The Man- The Killers// When it comes to Friday, I always earn Don't try to teach me, I got nothing to learn 'Cause baby I'm gifted You see what I mean? USDA certified lean

Baba O’Riley- The Who// The exodus is here The happy ones are near Let's get together Before we get much older

Clap For The Wolfman- The Guess Who// Clap for the Wolfman He gonna rate your record high Clap for the WolfmanYou gonna dig him 'til the day you die

How Bizarre- OMC// Destination unknown, as we pull in for some gas A freshly pasted poster reveals a smile from the past

Alright- Supergrass// We are young We run green Keep our teeth nice and clean See our friends, see the sights Feel alright

Old Time Rock N’ Roll- Bob Seger// Still like that old-time rock 'n' roll That kind of music just soothes my soul I reminisce about the days of old With that old-time rock 'n' roll

Soldier, Poet, King- The Oh Hellos// There will come a poet Whose weapon is his word He will slay you with his tongue, o lei o lai o lord

Point of Know Return- Kansas// Your father, he said he needs you Your mother, she says she loves you Your brothers, they echo your words: "How far to the point of know return?" "Well, how long?"

Hazy Shade of Winter- The Bangles// Time, time, time, see what's become of me While I looked around For my possibilities I was so hard to please But look around, leaves are brown And the sky is a hazy shade of winter

The Passenger- Iggy Pop// I am the passenger and I ride and I ride I ride through the city's backsides I see the stars come out of the sky Yeah, the bright and hollow sky You know it looks so good tonight

Spirit in the Sky- Norman Greenbaum// When I die and they lay me to rest Gonna go to the place that's the best When I lay me down to die Goin' up to the spirit in the sky

Don’t Bring Me Down- ELO// You got me shakin' got me runnin' away You got me crawlin' up to you everyday, Don't bring me down, no no no no no,

Bang the Drum All Day- Todd Rundgren// Every day when I get home from work I feel so frustrated The boss is a jerk And I get my sticks and go out to the shed And I pound on that drum like it was the boss's head

#ooc: i have 0 control and pick ALL the songs so im sorry but also not at all #theikostask #theikostask01

1 note · View note

eyesfixedonthesun22 · 5 years

Text

Wanna Know a Secret? Part 2

Summary: Being friends with Billy Hargrove was surprisingly easy. Being caught by him in a compromising situation...not so much. Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Female Reader Warning(s): Cursing, Smut 18+, problematic canon character Word Count: 1,414 Beta Reader: The stunning and sexy @supersoldiersruined-me. Notes: The vibe for this came from the song “40 Over” by Seaway. Canon Billy is incredibly problematic. This fic is not an endorsement of abusive, crappy behavior. Both reader and Billy are at least 18 in this fic if not recently graduated and older.

Previously:

His tone is vulgar and cocky. You wanna smack him. Your friend was a dick teasing you like this. His hands grab your pants and pull them down over your ass along with your panties in one smooth motion.

“Billy stop!”

You’re laid bare before him. The lips of your cunt still sticky from your previous arousal. He pushes your torso back on the bed and spreads your legs wider still. You don’t know what to feel. Your arousal swirls with shame and confusion. He was your best friend and he’d caught you pleasuring yourself on his bed. Yet he was now staring between your thighs like you’d seen him stare at other girls he’d wanted to fuck. You should want to snap your legs closed.

“Billy what the fuck is wrong with you. You’re not gonna fuck me and leave me like all the other girls.”

His focus shifts from your pussy to meet your eyes and for a moment his tone turns deadly. “Oh darling, I don’t do this for other girls.”

**************************************************************************************************

“Billy don’t!”

You clamp your eyes shut and scream from the sensation. It’s exhilarating and terrifying all at once. You can’t believe you’ve put this much trust in a boy like Billy Hargrove. He seems to have found all your deepest darkest places, things you were ashamed to think, pulled them to the surface and embraced them. In his own fashion. He was buried deep in you and you didn’t want him to leave.

“Billy!” It’s a chanted plea at this point. You’d never begged to a boy before. Now you’re praying to one who may as well be the antichrist for how much he plans on answering you. The dark chuckle which blooms out of his lips works like a spell cast on you. Your hands unclench from the fabric below you and your eyes open; wide and ready.

“Do you feel it, sweetheart?” His tone dips sinful and deep. He always got like this around her. It makes your cheeks flush with warmth. “Feel those vibrations?”

You look over at Billy, meeting the sea blue eyes. He looks like a kid you think. His smile isn’t the smug sneer worn for others. It’s genuine. Beaming. You glance at her speedometer.

“Fucking hell, Billy!” You grab his hand in hopes he’ll listen. The Camero, Billy’s cobalt blue baby, races down the backroads of Hawkins going nearly forty over the posted speed limit. You wanted to be mad. You should be. The joy so plainly etched on the tortured boy’s face made you forget the danger and enjoy the rush along with him. He was happiest with his two girls.

**************************************************************************************************

“Bill don’t-”

“Don’t what?” His eyelashes flutter against his flushed cheeks. His hot breath pants puffs of air against your lips. Asshole. How dare he be so smug. He loved to see you, his innocent darling, turn competitive and feisty.

“Touch you?” His thumb drags a slow circle around your clit. The rough callus of his finger pad felt amazing but you managed to keep your hips flat on the bed. You glared at him. A challenge. This was a fucking game. A game the two of you had played before, albeit with different terms. Regardless, you intended to win.

“Lick you?” He flattens his tongue and licks from your puckered hole to your clit. Your hips jerk. He lingers long enough to swipe into your entrance and collect your wetness. He slurps. His behavior is obscene. The growl he made as he tasted you is what did it. Surrender. You give up. But then the sensation is gone.

“Or fuck you?” His eyes smolder. He bites his lip and tilts his head to the side goading you for an answer. He knows what the fuck he’s doing. He’s done this to countless other girls. Say the right things, enhance the pretty edge to his dangerous face. Lie.

Fuck him. There will be no white flag.

You swing your hand with your full weight behind it expecting to leave a bruise. The connection never comes. Your wrist is grasped in his hand.

“Nuh uh, baby girl. You can’t lie to me.” He sets your hand free knowing full well you won’t make the attempt again. “I know you...and you know me.”

His tone softens as he adds the second bit. Your hand tangles into his curls and pulls him between your thighs. There’s only a moment of hesitation before he’s on you. He licks, nips, and sucks; finding the right combination which has you panting. His hands roam over your hips and up your stomach. They graze under your breasts but don’t linger.

“Billy don’t-” This time it comes out different. He’s so used to you scolding him. Billy don’t drive too fast. Billy don’t tease the freshman. Billy don’t ditch class. Billy don’t be mean to Max. He loved each “Billy don’t” because it meant you cared. This one though.

“Billy don’t fucking stop!”

He groans into your core as you grind helplessly against his face. He wants to drag it out. How many more times can he get you to moan his name before you change your mind again and “Billy don’t” him away for real this time? His index slips into you.

“Fuck Billy.”

That may be a new favorite. He pumps and pushes two fingers now, feeling you writhe and clench on him. What he would give to feel you give the same treatment to his cock. He’s accepted this will be done when you come undone. His brain has. His cock hasn’t. His hips drag pathetically against the side of the bed painting patterns of precum on the quilt; towel long since abandoned.

“Billy, Billy, Billy!” You’ve been reduced to incoherent babble. His name is the only clear word to escape your mouth unscathed. He’s moaning against your clit as he savors you. Your hands clench further in his curls; pulling him impossibly closer to you, chasing the last bit of friction that you need. He lets you grind against his face while he massages patterns inside you.

“Billy I’m gonna-”

That’s the saddest one yet. It means it’s over. You spasm on his face and he takes it. Drinks it down and hopes for more. You’re tart and sweet. He thinks it reminds him of when you say fuck. The first time you had, it nearly knocked him on his ass. How was this sweet girl capable of uttering such filth? He’d had to go jerk off in the bathroom stalls after he’d knocked your books out of your hand his first day at Hawkins High.

“What the fuck is your problem?” The memory still got him hard.

Your back stops arching and touches back on the bed. He can’t stop tasting you. He rests his head lazily against your inner thigh until you reprehend him the way only you can. One more lick he thinks. One more to memorize your taste. One more to memorize your sounds. You twitch and whimper, too over sensitive to control your movements but too overfucked to care.

“Billy don’t.”

There is is. He knew it was coming. He thought maybe he’d get it right this time. It’s soft at least. Maybe vulnerable. Sort of like when you fall asleep tucked in his side during a movie night. When your eyes first flutter open, he can see the pleasure. You push him away and joke he tried to cop a feel. Maybe he had.

He stops licking your core only to kiss the skin on your thigh. Your hip. Your belly button. Then he’s pulling you up onto the bed all together. Your legs are numb to everything. You’re numb to everyone except Billy. When had your shirt come off? Did it matter?

Billy kisses the crests of your breasts before licking into your collar. He’s pressed against you and you can feel him. Skin on skin. His palm cups your chin and you finally taste him. Marlboro smoke, peppermint toothpaste, and something honey sweet. You taste your cunt on the hair of his mustache. You want a night alone with him. You want to learn and taste every inch of him staying up all night. You push him away.

“Billy don-” His fingers pry your hand off his shoulder. You need him off you. Every second his skin is on yours you know its a second longer it will take to forget him. His fingers intertwined with yours; pinning them above your head. You’re getting carried away.

***

He doesn’t fuck you that night. At least, his cock was never inside you. You tell yourself it makes it easier. Maybe you fucked yourself. You got carried away. He so easily made you go numb with pleasure. You stand on wobbly legs in the moonlight streaming through his window while searching for your clothes. He hands you your shirt. You don’t meet his eyes.

“Sweetheart.” His voice is gravelly and full of need. How fucking dare he. Another tally for him to add to his collection. How dare he not drop the act. It wasn’t though. Maybe part of you knew. He wanted you to stay. He wanted to hold you. He would have stayed up all night listening to your snores and soaking up all the affection for which he was deficient. He would have kissed you awake so he could sneak you home in his Camaro. He wanted to ask if he could do this for you every night.

“Billy. Don’t.”

#Billy Hargrove x reader #Billy Hargrove x you #Billy Hargrove x female reader #billy hargrove #billy x reader #billy x you #stranger things #Billy Hargrove smut

244 notes · View notes