#kathy takes photos

[ladyraspberry-2540]

Boop!

Thank you to that one person who booped my profile 🥹

[zablife]

Runaway with Me

Benny Cross x female reader

Divider credit @firefly-graphics

Summary: You're a nice college girl dating a fellow student and photographer named Danny, but your boring life comes to an end when you meet the man you've previously only lusted after in photos. When you spend a night with Benny, your whole world changes.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, unprotected sex, language, drinking, infidelity (sorry Danny)

A/N: Kathy doesn't exist in this AU. Only my second fic for Benny. Let me know your thoughts! Comments are love 💕 No spoilers here!

Benny Cross Masterlist

“Hey,” a low voice called to you, rumbling like thunder on a warm summer night. His smoldering gaze stopped the click of your heels on the pavement before you could reach the bus stop, your attention stolen by a good looking blonde. You watched intently as the flashing streetlight illuminated his rugged jawline and muscular arms, sending a crackle of electricity down your spine.

“I know you,” he remarked mysteriously, taking a long drag of his cigarette.

Your throat went dry, as you struggled to answer. Readjusting your purse on your arm, you shook your head before you finally heard yourself whisper hoarsely, “I don’t think so.” However, you knew he was right, you’d seen his photos in Danny’s dorm room, though the prints hadn’t done him justice. 

“You’re that college girl Danny’s always talking about,” he added, eyes roving your body in obvious appreciation.

Your mouth dropped open at the mention of your boyfriend, heart beat quickening as you thought of the way you’d stared at those images, biting your lip in curious desire for a man you’d never met. It hadn’t occurred to you you might actually meet one day, but now it seemed your fantasy was coming true.

Locking eyes with him in a flirtatious stare, you almost felt guilty as you introduced yourself with a coy smile.

Benny's blue eyes twinkled and a wide grin spread across his face as he realized you weren't frightened of him.

"I'm Benny," he reciprocated without saying more. However, the way he allowed comfortable silence to linger, put you at ease long enough to explain that Danny stood you up, leaving you to take the bus home. You couldn’t help the anger that filled your voice, throat constricting with unshed tears as you wondered when you’d be as important as his silly book. 

Seeming to understand your need for distraction, Benny asked, “You wanna get out of here?” He didn’t wait for a reply before flicking his cigarette butt to the ground and throwing one leg over his bike.

As you thought of Danny's calls going unanswered, you picked at the strap of your bag hesitantly. “I don’t know, I should be getting back,” you reasoned quietly with yourself.

Benny held up his hands as though accepting defeat. “You gotta go, you gotta go,” he shrugged before starting up the bike.

You glanced over your shoulder toward the uninviting looking bench under the bus shelter just as the engine roared to life, impulsively grabbing his chiseled bicep. His chin jerked up at you in surprise, that adorable grin returning when you yelled, “I’m coming with you.”

Extending a ringed hand for you, he helped you onto the bike, snuggly fitting your arms around his trim waist with the instruction, “Hold on tight."

You didn’t bother asking where you’d be going, your desire for adventure steadily growing. When he accelerated toward the highway with wind rushing past your hair and colors blurring in your peripheral, you could think of nothing except the adrenaline coursing through your veins and the seductive thoughts multiplying with every new sensation.

Pressing your cheek against his back, you inhaled the intoxicating mixture of pomade and leather, closing your eyes to imagine it mingled with the sweat of exertion. The vibration of the bike beneath your legs, body molded tightly against his made you all the more eager for him.

When he pulled into a local motel and helped you off the bike, your legs had turned to jelly and you couldn’t be sure if it was from the overwhelming experience of the ride or your sudden nerves as you waited to see what might happen next. 

Benny didn’t seem to notice, walking toward his door with a slow, but confident strut. “Want a drink?” he asked, holding the door for you. 

You fidgeted with your necklace as you peeked your head into the small, yet tidy room where he said he’d been staying for the past month.

He offered you the first bottle of beer, knocking the cap off against the dresser with a sharp crack. He shook the fizz from his hand, sucking a little off his thumb before placing the bottle in your hand.

As your fingertips brushed against each other, it renewed the electricity dancing between you, his eyes darkening to a deeper shade of blue as lust overtook his gaze.

With a shaky breath you took a sip and placed the bottle onto the table, quickly forgetting it as he took hold of your arm and pulled you into a searing kiss.

As the cool metal of his rings touched the burning skin of your cheeks, you moaned against him, allowing him the opportunity to lick into your mouth hungrily. He was gentle, but firm as his tongue fought yours for dominance, hands tangling in your hair as his passion increased.

His calloused hands memorized every inch of you on their way down your body to find the hem of your top and pull it over your head. Nipping softly at your lower lip, he distracted you momentarily to unclip your bra and toss it aside, stopping long enough to suck in a breath at the sight of your breasts. 

Ducking his head to take a pert nipple into his mouth he lapped and sucked against the sensitive bud, making you whimper with need. 

“Like that, pretty girl?” he asked softly, hand kneading your other breast until you thought you’d cum from that simple touch alone. Hands resting atop his blonde curls, you pushed him away gently to catch your breath and he huffed out a little laugh. “A little too much, huh?”

Taking his lead, you wasted no time removing his jacket and shirt to reveal the taut planes of his chest and abs. Skating your fingers across the lean muscle with a sigh, you leaned in to place scattered kisses along his collarbone. You watched the vein in his neck jump before ghosting your lips over his throbbing pulse and chose a place to suck a bruise. 

He hissed as you tongued over it in soothing circles, fingertips clutching at your hip when you blew a stream of cold air across his flesh. Deciding to push him further, you snaked a hand down his front, palm gliding over the coarse material of his jeans. A low rumble of satisfaction came from his chest as you stroked his growing bulge, his hips involuntarily bucking against your hand. 

You smirked at his responsiveness and the fact that he was much bigger than you’d imagined. Unable to wait any longer, your fingers fumbled excitedly with his belt buckle, Benny groaning at the promise of release for his aching cock.

Falling to your knees, you helped him out of his pants and watched his cock bounce against his tan stomach. The little gasp that left your throat seemed to amuse him as he tilted his head to savor the sight of you before him.

Hand reaching for him like a prize, you began long slow licks along his shaft before taking the spongy head between your lips, eager to please. No sooner had you begun, he grasped for your shoulder to steady himself from the dizzying pleasure, opposite hand sweeping the hair from your face to watch himself disappear down your throat.

Benny’s moans began to fill the room as you worked, a stuttered breath escaping when you stopped to kitten lick and suck lightly on the tip, holding eye contact with him. The sight of your angelic face staring up at him through your lashes, saliva running down your chin was almost too much for him to bear. He knew he couldn't resist you if you continued much longer.

Within seconds you felt him capture your wrists, pulling you up to your feet as he gulped and shook his head. "Not yet, baby."

Walking you backward until the backs of your knees hit the bed behind you, he pushed you onto the mattress with a bounce. You giggled as his eager fingers hooked into the waist band of your skirt and underwear, tugging them down to reveal all of you to him. "So beautiful," he exclaimed, long fingers tracing over your chest and stomach reverently.

He hovered over you, placing kisses to your neck as his fingers found your slick folds, opening you up slowly until you were practically dripping down his fingers. Adding a thumb to circle over your clit, your back arched off the bed and he hushed you with a deep kiss which only intensified when he felt you clench around his digits.

"Need you, Benny," you whined, clutching at his broad shoulders and urging him to rest his weight over you. He pressed his forehead to yours, nuzzling your nose in a gesture far too sweet for the single, powerful thrust that came next. Tears sprang to your eyes from the exquisite feeling of fullness, the pressure on your g-spot intense and immediate.

Benny stilled the moment he'd seated himself inside you, shuddering slightly to hold himself back as he allowed you time to adjust to his size. His cool blue eyes drank you in before resuming a steady rhythm that had you writing beneath him, head tossed back onto the pillows.

The slow drag of his cock against your sensitive walls sent your nerve endings firing little sparks of heat through your core, somehow amplifying the need for more. Benny sensed it immediately, raising your leg to his hip and sank even deeper with a low rumble of satisfaction, matched only by your lustful mewls.

Spurred on by every sweet sound you made, his hips began snapping against you, a light sheen of sweat coating his chest. Your hands flew to his hair, tugging slightly at the roots as your brain fogged with pleasure. As he fucked you into the mattress, your eyes fluttered closed, only vaguely aware of him slipping his thumb into your mouth. Sucking eagerly against the salty skin, you heard Benny groan loudly as the sensation shot straight to his cock.

Removing his thumb with a pop, he snaked his hand between you to circle the small bundle of nerves at your apex causing your mouth to drop open. He leaned in for a kiss unlike before, messy and demanding. "Gonna cum for me, pretty girl?" he asked breathlessly.

You gave a pathetic nod, biting your lip as you felt the coil in your stomach ready to snap. Staring into the oceans of Benny's endlessly blue eyes, a soft static began buzzing in your ears as you heard him whisper, "Yeah? Let me see." His warm breath hit the shell of your ear just as you tipped over the edge, white heat consuming your body. Wave after wave crashed over you, melting your brain and making your limbs turn gooey.

Benny fucked you through it as he chased his own high, hips stuttering before he pulled out with a quick jerk. Emptying himself onto your stomach in hot, thick ropes, he exhaled a contented sigh and smiled down at you with a lopsided grin.

Hours later, overcome with exhaustion, you curled into Benny's side beneath the covers. Safe and warm in his embrace, you found yourself talking about anything and everything. He listened with rapt attention as you described your boring college, the pressure that came with the classes and your dream to escape, seeing the country the way Danny had.

Mostly, Benny listened, but he talked a little about his own travels too. The life he was leading fascinated you and you found yourself wishing you were part of it. However, your voice began to trail off as you glimpsed the far off look in Benny's eye.

Truthfully, Benny found the excitement in your voice endearing and he couldn't help fantasizing about taking you on the road with him. As he idly traced patterns against your arm, he found himself suddenly saying, "Runaway with me."

Clutching the duvet to your chest you turned to stare at him in disbelief. "What?"

His jaw set determinedly, he nodded to indicate he was serious about what he'd said. "Be my girl," he added, eyeing you carefully to see if you'd accept.

Your heart knocked against your chest as you swiftly agreed, moving to straddle him and take his face between your hands for a celebratory kiss.

As the first rays of sun hit Benny’s eyes, he groaned in protest. The morning had come too quickly despite his best efforts to savor the night with you. Turning over in bed to drag you closer to him, his arm stretched over the cold, empty sheets. Clutching the material in his fist until his knuckles turned white, he wondered if you’d caught a cab, leaving the moment you came to your senses. 

Shuffling to the side of the bed to retrieve his jeans, he wondered why he’d been foolish enough to think you’d go anywhere with him when you had so many other opportunities. But he couldn’t think about all that before he’d had a cigarette so he fell out the front door, digging in his pockets for a lighter.

Just as he stumbled off the concrete step, he nearly tripped over the chair you’d placed outside the door, eliciting a cry of surprise from you.

As he quickly apologized, you clutched his Vandals jacket to your shoulders, giggling at his disheveled appearance. He was still effortlessly handsome despite his hair sticking up in all directions, the streaks of golden blonde catching the sunlight and arousing another wave of desire in you. However, you noticed he seemed too distracted to reciprocate.

“I thought you left,” he admitted, graveled voice still full of sleep as he closed the motel door behind him.

You raised the hand that held your cigarette, explaining, "Just came out for a smoke.”

As he retrieved the cigarette he had tucked behind his ear, he considered you warily. "Before you took off with my jacket?"

"I was going to give it back when I came in to wake you up," you explained softly, standing to stub out your cigarette with the toe of your shoe.

He turned his back to you, pretending to survey the parking lot as he nodded in understanding, "You gotta go."

You wrapped your arms around his waist, cheek pressed to his back as you imagined you'd do many more times in the future during long rides together. "We have to go. I thought we were running away together," you reminded him with a playful nudge.

He turned around instantly, pulling you close by the lapels of his jacket for a long kiss. Smirking against your lips he murmured, "Then let's go, baby."

[mara-and-its-the-same]

let’s understand that this is Mara immediately post breakup so this means i get to have it as wild as i want it to be...but anyway, all i’ve been thinking about is rebounding with Danny, duh. Beyond suggestive, it's directly implied, 2k words and a big thank you to @frnchgirls, rose is a most gracious help. Enjoy 🥰

“What about like this?”

If anyone asked Danny the series of events that led him here, there would be no sane answer. Friday night he meets you at the Vandals’ bar, Saturday night he learns that you live in Chicago but were dating another Vandal in a different chapter and just suffered a messy break up, and by Sunday afternoon he’s got you posing on his bed with the brand new knowledge that before you got into that relationship you were a lingerie model until that guy made you quit. 

“Danny?” You ask him again, leaning on your elbows and one knee slightly bent to the side over the other.

He shakes himself out of his daydreaming to realize that reality is ten times better and hopes you don’t notice his dazed off gaze from your side of the camera. “Yeah?”

“Is this a good pose?” 

Kathy told you that you should get back into modeling, then offered Danny to help you practice, maybe get new photos to show some agents.  Neither of you were busy this weekend, so now here you are in a brand new soft blue babydoll negligee that she made you buy the minute she heard about the split, on Danny’s bed. 

God, how he washed those sheets and cleaned all over his apartment as soon as you asked if you could do it at his place. It hasn’t been so neat since he toured the place. But now there you are wanting him to tell you if you look good in your lingerie on his bed. But photography is his job, he’s a professional, he can do this.

He could do this, if his tongue wasn’t suddenly tied until he swallowed thickly. “Yeah, maybe you just lean back a little more?”

“Like this?”

“Perfect.” He captures the picture and tries some more from a few different angles. “What about laying down?”

“Mhm,” you move a bit further down the bed and let your hair fall around you as best it could on its own. “Here?”

“Yeah, can I move your hair?”

“Yeah,” he rearranges your strands so they frame your face perfectly and look as effortless as possible.

“Gorgeous.” The shudder clicks right as he said it, so fast that he hits it a second time just to catch your smile when he says it.

“Really?” He catches the moment your face changes from eyes closed and sultry, to open and joyous.

“Beautiful.”

“Me? Or just your pictures? 

“You, and the pictures of you.”

“Thank you,” you roll over again and he gets one from another angle. 

It was never anything crazy, the sets you modeled. Just some odd jobs for more local boutiques, never anything obscene or ridiculously lavish. Danny refuses to believe that though. You make plastic rhinestones shine like diamonds. Machine spun cotton lace looks like hand threaded silk from Paris the second it touches your skin. 

“Do you think we got enough of this one?” you ask.

“I think so. I can get these developed and have them ready in a few days,” he starts packing his camera away. “What size did you say you wanted?”

“Oh I don’t know, but— Well actually I brought one more thing to try on. Unless you want to be done?”

He’s not sure how much more of this he can really take. How much longer can he be in the same room as you before he busts just from looking at you. 

“Yeah, sure- I’ll be in the kitchen.”

He tries not to stare as you slide of the bed and start looking through the bag you brought on his way out the door. 

3 minutes later your head is poked out of the door and into the kitchen, “Danny, you can come in now.”

Oh what a sight you are. The black nightgown reaches down all the way to your ankles, the silky fabric falls over your hips so perfectly, and the only thing between the air and your chest is a thin layer of the finest lace he’s ever seen. “I haven’t worn this in years.”

“That’s a shame.” He can’t believe he’s said that, especially in the tone he did, like he couldn’t believe you wouldn’t even wear it just by yourself. You must know how you look in it, how it looks tailored to your body in every square inch. 

“I know. But he didn’t like it. It’s vintage Chantelle, all silk. Didn’t know how to appreciate it properly.” You sit back on the bed again and just then he notices the slit up one side that just about nears the top of your thigh. 

You’re about to take a new pose when he asks you a most peculiar question. 

“I’m sorry?” You ask.

“Do you mind if I move you?” He says with more confidence this time and what a gift that he did.

“Sure.”

He sets the camera down on his dresser and comes towards you. With his hands on your shoulders— your nearly bare shoulders, his thumbs fitting perfectly just into the dips of your clavicles —he leads you to lay down against the pillows and rearranges your hair. He takes one of your hands and places it beside your head, the other he moves across your torso with your hand cusping your hip bone. He steps back a bit to consider your legs, with respect to the slit. After slowly, so slowly coasting down the length of your leg, he softly pulls one ankle down straight, and pushes the other slitted one up so that it is slightly bent at the knee and tilts it towards the other. 

He takes a second to look at you, really look at you, and he can’t believe anyone would ever try to keep you from this. 

Maybe he’s just getting to know your form, for the sake of the composition, you think. But only for a moment before you see him suck his bottom lip between his teeth, just for a second but you notice. 

Finally, finally, he takes the first picture of you like this. With the click of the shutter you’ve made your mind up, you decide to press your luck. “What if I like…” you bring the hand that was on your hip up to your mouth and bite the top knuckle of your index finger.

“Yes.”

“What’s the look you’re thinking though?”

“They’re your pictures. I’m thinking whatever you want me to think.”

“But you’re the photographer, the artist.”

“You’re the art.”

“Would you kiss me?”

He nearly drops the camera. “What?”

“They like when pictures tell stories, the story would be that I’m messy and ravished and the clothes are serving their intended purpose. If you’re alright with that?”

He so absolutely, most certainly, positively is more than just alright with that. “Yeah, ok.”

You push yourself back up on the bed while he positions himself at the edge. “So how do you wa—“ he’s cut off by your pull to his collar and the press of your lips. Surpassing his initial surprise he brings a hand up around you to hold your waist, and the other up to your jaw. Messy, you want it messy. And salacious, lascivious even. Beyond suggestive, obvious is what you need. He can tell from the way you continue to pull him into you even as his chest is flush against yours. 

You pull away panting for no more than a second to order “Get the camera off the bed.” How sweet of you to be concerned, he nearly leaps over you to put it on the nightstand and he’d like to say ‘if it were any less expensive’ he would have just thrown it, but he knows that the price of it wasn’t what stopped him, it was the fear of damaging even a single one of those pictures of you. 

As he’s leaning over you, you slide down a little further on the bed so he can reach you easier. Or maybe to muss your hair up a little more if it’s against the pillows, or any other excuse you could make to make it seem like this is all for the picture and not your own desires. 

From there it is licks, bites, tugs, sucks of lips. And you’re trying, you’re both trying to keep your hands out of it, but how could you when his hair is so soft and the back of his neck is the perfect shape for you to hold. And how could he when your skin is so perfect and your bare leg is right there.

“I want a hickey.”

“Huh?”

“Kiss my neck.” He kisses you twice more on his way to your throat and you can’t help the sound you make when he reaches the perfect spot. Already he has you gasping for air. “Oh god.” His hand slithers up the slit, sliding even higher in search of your hip bone or waist to hold. 

“Wait,” He lifts himself to be eye level with you, “wait—“

“Hm?”

“Sorry, just…You’re—This is real now, right?”

“Yes, yes, very real.” You rush to pull him back down to your lips and nearly crash noses with the way he rushes down to meet you. 

“Mmph,” he groans at the scratch of your nails across his scalp and just the sound makes your back arch. Moving down again, he passes soft kisses down the valley of your chest. You’re positive he can feel the beat of your heart through every inch of your skin. How you’ve missed this, being wanted, being adored. And how he’s missed crossing beyond the other side of the lens, the feel of sculpting another body just by the skill of his touch. 

As he’s pushing the side of your skirt up and away a sudden fear strikes you, “Wait!”

“What is it?” He immediately sits back and takes his hands away, looking into your eyes for any cause for concern.

“I’m so sorry, but I really don’t want to rip it.”

“Oh,” you see him immediately relax, “So…”

You make no answer, though you do sit up to your knees and move the skirt out from underneath you. With a gesture to the strap that has fallen off your shoulder, he finally gets the message. However, in the spirit of fairness, his own shirt is the first thing to go and before you have time to remember your original intent you both rise on your knees just to kiss again. You feel before you look while your hands roam his torso. 

And slowly, so slowly, through wandering presses, pulls, and squeezes, he reaches the sides of your thighs and takes your nightgown by the seams to lift it over your head. He takes it by the straps to hang by the corner of the headboard rather than tossing it to the floor. 

You guide him forwards as you move to your back again, his knee moves between your legs while his fingertips smooth along your jaw. His eyes dance around your face, and as embarrassed as he may be to admit it, he takes a fleeting glance down the space between your bodies. An idea flashes before him, a bold one, but at this point in the afternoon he’s not sure there’s much left that could happen between you two that’d be too bold. He reaches for the camera slowly enough that you knew exactly what he wants. You resist the instinct to shy away when you still see his soft gaze over the camera. The shudder clicks and he drops it back on the nightstand, “That one’s not making it into the book,” Danny smirks at his own teasing before leaning back into you to finish what he started with a smile still on his lips. 

[avonne-writes]

Photographer Bucky x Benny Cross Headcanons

The lovely @carnevol came up with the amazing idea to make the photographer documenting the Vandals Bucky. We thought Bucky x Benny would be quite hot together, so here are some headcanons. Benny doesn’t get together with Kathy in this AU.

(some NSFW and spoilers for the movie under the cut)

Benny never talks to Bucky, doesn’t even acknowledge him at first but he lets himself be photographed, including his hands with the rings and the scar. It’s only while developing the photos that Bucky notices the heated, intense way Benny looks at him.

The next time Bucky hangs out with the guys, he stares back. Benny likes that, and he also likes it when Bucky directs his flirty jokes and banter at him. Although his reactions are pretty deadpan or just a faint smirk, Bucky can tell that he enjoys it. The intense staring happens increasingly often.

One night - much like in that Johnny & Benny scene - Bucky draws Benny aside, flirts with him some more under some bullshit excuse, slowly stepping into his space. But when Benny says his name, he doesn’t pull away, he lets his lips brush Benny's cheek.

Benny has some internalized homophobia that makes him freeze for a few seconds, but he quickly overcomes it by reasoning with himself that no one tells him what to do, he’s a rebel, a free spirit who can do whatever he wants.

So, before Bucky could backtrack, he finally turns his head and gives Bucky a biting, intense kiss.

He's not one to hold back. He goes for it with a passion that leaves Bucky reeling.

But just as quickly as it happened, Benny pulls away, gives Bucky an unreadable look and goes back to the others.

Bucky doesn’t know what to expect next, but finding Benny camping on his bike outside his place is certainly not on the list.

But that's what Benny does, and when Bucky lets him in, what he says is "So. You wanna show me the bedroom?"

They have bed-breaking, wall-banging, aggressive sex and share cigarettes and small anecdotes between rounds.

When the sunrise starts creeping painfully through the window, Bucky sees a softer, sad side of Benny. Benny doesn’t try to hide this from him, but when Bucky grabs the camera on the bedside table and takes a photo of him, he tells Bucky never to show that to anyone and his tone is threateningly serious.

Once Bucky swears he won't, Benny lights another cigarette, takes a pull, then gives it to Bucky and goes down on him, just like that. Bucky feels like he’s in heaven, but the heat of it burns like it’s hell.

Benny doesn’t swallow, he spits it out quite openly, but since he makes no fuss about sex in any way, Bucky knows that there's nothing else to it, just Benny's preference. Benny gets up before Bucky could reciprocate and while getting dressed, he asks if Bucky wants to go for a ride.

They go out, each on their own bike, but in the light of that dawn, Bucky feels closer to Benny than ever.

They have to repeat this a few times before Benny actually stays the night and sleeps. Bucky's pretty sure it's only a handful of people who have ever seen the man asleep, so it feels like a privilege.

Bucky falls in love, and he knows it's reciprocated the first time when Benny gets that sad look about him again but doesn’t follow it up with something aggressively sexual or restless. That time, he lets Bucky tell him about the bad moments in Bucky's past, with only this pained, upset silence about him. He never says anything in response, but Bucky can tell that he listens attentively.

They both have obsessive and impulsive traits, so the two together makes for a gunpowder-like combination. If they fight others, they back each other up and can do quite some damage. If they fight each other, paint chips off the walls from the outburst of anger.

Bucky stops hanging out with the club and photographing them because the tension between him and Johnny over Benny gets unbearable. Still, Benny continues to come over to his place. There’s never a regular pattern to it, but he keeps coming back.

Bucky asks him to stay and leave the club (which has been getting worse anyway) if that's what it takes, but that's too much to ask then. They have a few fights about this.

Benny runs away from conflict that cuts too deep into those buried emotions he tries to guard. When he has a huge fight with Bucky and then, like in the movie, tells Johnny he can’t take over the club, he leaves just like in the movie.

But Bucky isn't the type to sit on his ass and let him disappear, so he chases him down.

They both value loyalty high, and also, to be able to count on one another. In addition, Benny has this issue that he thinks removing himself from someone's life is taking a burden away from them. Bucky's unrelenting love and warmth and the fact that Bucky goes after him and doesn’t want him to leave get through Benny's walls, and he finally lets Bucky in.

They reconcile in some shady motel and decide to never go back to Chicago. The shift in Benny's priorities and decision to leave the biker life come from the effect Bucky has on him and not from Johnny’s death. Still, Benny cries when Johnny is killed.

He and Bucky settle down far away from Chicago. Benny works as a mechanic and Bucky as a journalist, and after some time, Bucky manages to persuade Benny to let him put that picture he took of Benny in bed on the nightstand.

[ginnysgraffiti]

reader as kathy from the bikeriders, very very random.

DANNY x yn.

"no danny, i told you already, benny isn't my boyfriend. and cut this part in your interview or he'll shoot me." you complained, handing him a cup of iced americano you had just prepared on your kitchen counter. danny was on the other side, smiling as he was holding the microphone towards you to get a better sound of your voice.

"ok, ok, promised. what about johnny? do you know something about his wife?"

you took a sip of your black coffee, savouring the sour taste down your throat before answering.

you had known danny for a month now.

you met him at a self-service laundrette in your small village, while you were doing the laundry with your friends. the washing machines were cream-colored, and the clothes smelled like clean sheets after just the first wash.

danny always walked around with his microphone or camera, a small radio attached to his leather belt and his canvas bag where he kept packs of cigarettes or notepads. at first, he had another shoulder bag, but that one bore the emblem of the prestigious college he went to, and he knew the vandals wouldn't like it.

since the beginning of the interview, danny used the guise of a normal confidential interview about johnny and his biker club, even if your daily-laundrette-friends stubbornly argued about the fact that he was just doing it on purpose to flirt with you. he would do a little interview almost every day, otherwise he would take photos of you and the members of johnny's club.

he said it was for a book he intended to write, where he would write down everything he had collected from numerous interviews and decorate it with pictures as well.

as months passed, you got happily used to the clanking sound of what must be a spoon heard in the background of the recording anytime you prepared him coffee, or the soft smile that would play on his lips whenever you made jokes during the interview, or how he would remove his leather jacket to place it on your living room chair and let his biceps be in wonderful display.

you couldn't deny it anyway, you were physically attracted to danny. shamefully attracted.

he was like fresh air to you. he was kind, gentleman, always well dressed and cleaned. he smelled like post-shaving and cologne, nothing to do with the alcohol and cigarette odor that motorcyclists emanatedfrom sunrise to sunset.

even your laundry girls insisted on you declaring your feelings for him, but you kept thinking he had better things to do and you were just someone destined to stay in his future book pages as the girl best friend of johnny's club's members.

"i thought you had interviewed me enough." you told him one day as he entered your house, carefully leaving his boots near the door rug.

"and so i thought." he said, strangely serious and absolutely not caring about the fact that you were only wearing your underwear and a pajama oversized t-shirt.

your pulse quickened dizzily when you noticed he wasn't carrying any microphone or camera with him, but definitely not because he wouldn't have been able to picture you half-naked and make you look bad.

"so...why are you here?" you asked, your voice suddenly little and cracking.

danny reached you with long strides, crossing the room with ease.

"danny- what are you-?!"

he bent down slightly to grab you so as to pick you up, placing you with the usual delicacy on the kitchen counter where you used to serve him coffees.

"i've been wanting this since the first day." his husky groaned and he removed his leather jacket with a smooth singular gesture, leaving him with his black tanktop you always found yourself staring at.

"danny..."

he couldn't listen to you, because he immediately settled himself between your legs, spreading them and hiding his face under your big t-shirts.

his hands did the same and they immediately found your bra, untying it to permit his wet and hot tongue to drown your nipples.

"mmmh-" a guttural moan escaped your mouth involuntarily as you threw your head back. your muscles tensed at the same time and your jelly legs squished his waist.

"i always thought you preferred benny or other members...i wanted to make a move so bad." he whispered, reaching your lips and kissing you softly.

you cupped his face and pulled him off a little bit just to have a better look at his face.

"you're crazy, you know that, right?"

a low chuckle left his mouth, and his throat throbbed a bit.

"how could i even think of choosing them over you!?"

danny smiled softly, and before you could notice, he had already taken off your bra and t-shirt.

[ytmanzwhore]

Chase It - 4

summary: a visit to supalupa featuring some familiar faces

warning: talks of death and traumatic experiences :/ poor babies

an: I love this chap mwahahah

@stillhere197 @thespillingvoid

Nellie didn't even need to ask Kate where they were going, just turning on the radio and letting the girl stew as they drove South. Nellie found herself nodding off, waking up as they pulled into a familiar drive. The girls headed inside, going right for the water jug in the fridge. Though they tried to be quiet, they clearly didn't do well enough as they heard the floors creak.

"It's me mama," Kate called out as Kathy sighed in relief, coming through the door. 

"Kate? What happened?" she asked as she looked at the two girls in front of her. "Nel, yall ok?" Kathy pulled Kate into her arms, which was what the blonde needed as she sagged into her mothers grip.

"You're ok," Kathy soothed as she opened her other arm and accepted Nellie into her embrace. The three stood there for a bit before Kate pulled back with a sniffle. "Let's get yall into bed."

Kathy offered to clean out the guest room for Nellie, but the girls protested, saying they were fine sharing. And while Kate took a shower, Nellie quietly filled Kathy in on what had been going on. When Kate got out, Nellie left her and Kathy to talk while she showered too. By the time she was done, Kathy's door was shut and Kate was laying in her bed looking at the ceiling. 

Nellie laid next to her, the girls comfortable in the silence as they listened to the familiar song of the crickets and owls and cows outside. "Missed it here," Nellie whispered in the dark. 

"Me too," Kate confessed back. And with that, the two girls fell into a deep sleep on their first decent mattress in days. 

The next morning, Nellie woke up as she heard Kathy head out to feed the cows as the sun rose. She took her time getting out of bed, careful to keep from waking up Kate. She headed downstairs, grinning softly as she saw an extra cup of coffee sitting on the island, just like Kathy would leave it for the only other early riser in the house during her college visits. 

She crept out of the house, looking across the farm in the misty air as she took a seat in her favorite rocking chair. She relished in the silence for an hour before she heard the front door close, and saw Kate head over to the barn. With a sigh, Nellie pulled herself up and walked over to join her. 

"Brings back a lot of memories," Nellie said softly as she walked over to stand next to Kate. Kathy came in shortly after, as the girls were looking around. 

"How yall doing?" Kathy asked.

"Just the way we left it," Kate sighed.

"Didn't know what you wanted me to do with it," Kathy said mater of factedly.

"Just throw it out," Kate said quickly.

"You done?" Kathy asked with a frown. "It's funny. I keep seeing more and more tornadoes, and floods and droughts and the price of wheat and seed going up, and up, and up. But I'm still here."

"I'm sorry mom," Kate said, and suddenly Nellie felt like an intruder. "I haven't been good about calling." 

"Me either," Nellie said softly. "I should've come to check in on you."

"Naw, you get to fight with you aunt on that one," Kathy scoffed at Nellie as her phone rang."I gotta take this. Throw it away," she shook her head. "I'm still waiting on you to save the world."

Nellie and Kate puttered around for a bit, Nellie pulling out some of their old journals while Kate opened up her old project. The two of them were spooked by a voice cutting through their silence. "Build your own tornado," Tyler said as he looked at Kate's table, and at Nellie.

"Middle school science project," Kate said with a laugh. 

"Must've won," Tyler said with a nod as he came to stand by Nellie, looking at the journal she was flipping through. "You write?"

"Yeah," she smiled up at him. "I used to write about all of my chases. Put in photos that Kate or I would take. Haven't looked at them in a while."

"How'd you find us?" Kate asked. 

"Dexter pieced it together," Tyler admitted. "Remembered yalls name from the news a few years back. I'm sorry about your friends."

"Thank you," Nellie whispered as Kathy came in. 

"I'm fixing some food, y'all ok eating outside?" she asked abruptly. 

"Oh he's not-"

"I'm not-"

"Yes of course Kathy," Nellie smiled sweetly, cutting Tyler and Kate off. 

"Kate, why don't you set the table," Kathy asked (ordered), the blonde following after her mother with a huff. 

"So," Tyler sat down next to Nellie, spreading his legs so his knee bumped her thigh. "You're a legend huh?"

"No," she shook her head. "Not me."

"You're a Harding," Tyler scoffed. "I guarantee you were chasing when you were in diapers."

"Not quite," she laughed. "I had to wait till my brother was born."

"That must've been something," Tyler smiled. "Learning from them."

"It was," she smiled softly. "They didn't even have to teach it to me, I just had it. God I used to love riding with them."

"I met some of their old crew once," Tyler said. "Came and gave a talk at UofA. They were so cool. And I remember them talking about how chasing was changing, and the way social media was effecting the way people saw storms. And it's what made me think about starting a youtube channel."

"Honestly, I think the channel is great," Nellie admitted. "It's a great educational tool. So many people are blindsided by storms because they don't come from an area like here, that prepares them. And it can cost them."

"That's the thing," Tyler nodded. "As much as it might look like stunts and show boating from the outside, we want to help people. We want to help in the disaster zones. And the channel helps us do that."

"That's what matters," Nellie said, resting her hand on his leg. "Who cares what assholes like Scott think. What really matters is those people you help. The family whose dog you found, the woman and her daughter you helped save last night. Those are who are important."

"You're real insightful, you know that?" Tyler asked softly, leaning in.

"Thank you," Nellie whispered as she came to meet him in the middle. The two's lips were a hairsbreadth apart when the roar of an engine startled them. 

"Thats a huge rig," Tyler commented as he tried to get his heart back under control.

"Oh please," Nellie almost whimpered. "Please no."

"Nellie, you okay-"

Tyler was cut off by the barn door swinging open with a screech and two figures barreling in. "Nellie June Harding," an older woman yelled as she walked in with a man at her side. "I know you didn't let me find out you were chasing again from Kathy Cooper?"

"Aunt Jo," Nellie stood up, hands out in a surrendering position. "Come on-"

"No ma'am," Jo wagged her finger in the air, while Bill held back a laugh. "We barely hear from you, other than when you show up out of the blue. You turn off from chasing even when we beg, and now, we find out you been chasing with some boyo from ARKANS-"

"Honey," Bill finally stepped in, interrupting Jo's rant. "Why don't we take a breath and introduce ourselves before you keep on hollering."

Tyler stood up immediately, holding out his hand. "Tyler Owens ma'am, sir," Nellie knew her aunt was internally pleased as Tyler greeted Jo first and then Bill. "Real nice to meet ya."

"You that tornado wrangler?" Jo wrinkled her nose. 

"You know who I am?" Tyler asked in awe.

"Do I," Jo scoffed as Nellie interjected. 

"Oh, Kathy's calling for dinner, let's go," and Nellie dragged a protesting Tyler out of the barn to the back table where Kathy and Kate were sitting. Nellie shoved him in a seat between her and Kate, to protect him from her aunt. Jo gave the table 15 minutes of peace before she leapt back in. 

"You two back at it?" Jo asked as she chewed her sandwich, eyeing Kate and Nellie.

"No," Nellie denied. "We came out to help a friend. But things have gotten, tricky."

"Yeah, Kathy mentioned Storm Par," Bill sighed. "Wish yall would've called. We could've let you know about Riggs."

"I'm sorry," Nellie whispered. "I haven't been good to yall recently. It's just been-"

"Hard," Jo choked out, grabbing Bill's hand. "We miss them too honey. Every day."

"What's going on?" Kate asked the three Hardings. "Is everyone ok? Ethan and your parents?"

"There was a storm," Bill said gruffly as Nellie's eyes began to well. "Two years after your accident. You know my sister, she never did worry about storm prepping. So they were home, Ethan in town from school. EF4 came through. They never stood a chance."

"Nellie," Kate choked out as Kathy looked down at her own plate. "Why wouldn't you-"

"I'm gonna go grab more drinks," Nellie hopped up, rushing inside the house and leaving the tense air behind her. She practically dove into the bathroom, closing the door and sliding down agains the tub as she finally let her sobs out. Her own heartbeat was so loud in her ears she didn't even hear the door open, but she felt her aunt sit down next to her. 

"It's okay Nellie girl," Jo cooed as she wrapped her arms around the sobbing woman. "Let it out."

"I miss Ethan," Nellie sniffled after a minute. "I wish I got to see him graduate, and take him on that chase he was always begging us for."

"Me too honey," Jo smiled wetly. "Me too. But you know he's here with us. And he wouldn't want you to be doing what you're doing. He'd want you to keep chasing what makes you happy, what makes your heart hum. And baby, we all know you've just been going through the motions, okay? And you gotta come back to us."

"I know," she smiled through her own tears. "This week, the storms. I've felt it again. That feeling we always used to talk about. That buzz."

"Good honey," Jo pulled her into a hug again. "Now, whatdya say we go finish our dinner." The women walked outside, and the rest of the table was kind enough not to comment on the lack of fresh drinks and the ladies tear stained cheeks. Eventually the conversation was on happier topics, and of course moved onto to talking about chasing. 

"Everyone's gotta have it, that instinct," Tyler said with a laugh.

"Aw yeah, Kate's always had that," Kathy said. 

"Nellie too," Bill grinned. "One time she was sitting on her horse, doing barrels and she pulled up, turned the horse around and ran right outta the paddock. We were inside and at 10 years old she knew a storm was building and she just had to see it."

"Quit," Nellie whined as she hid her face in her hands. "Kathy tell the Kate bath tub story." As Kathy embarrassed Kate, Tyler laughed and leaned back in his seat, tossing his arm around Nellie's chair. 

"What about you Tyler?" Kathy asked. "How'd you come to do this work?"

"Well, when you love something you'll spend your whole life trying to understand it," Tyler said with a smile, his face turning pink as Nellie leaned into his arm.

"Kate was studying for her PhD," Kathy said proudly. "Keep telling her to go back and finish."

"Disrupting tornado dynamics," Jo shook her head. "the damndest thing." This time it was Kate who left the table, rather than be reminded of the theories that had led to that fateful chase. Nellie watched as Kate went inside with some plates, before turning to Jo and Bill.

"Where yall at this week?"

"Home," Jo smiled. "You come over to see us in a few days ok? I know you've got some things to finish up."

"I will," she said with a big smile, getting up and rounding the table to hug the two of them. "We can make some of Meg's food."

"Thank god," Bill groaned as he ruffled Nellie's hair. "Missed your cooking sweet pea."

And with that, Nellie and Tyler helped stack plates before Kathy asked Nellie to show the boy Kate's work in the barn. "She's gonna be upset," Nellie warned as Tyler flipped through her note book. 

"I mean, yall thought you could disrupt a tornado," Tyler said as Kate opened up the door. 

"Don't look at that," she protested. 

"You're the OG wrangler," Tyler sang, sliding away from Kate. He read some of the theories out loud, commenting on some of the work. 

"Modeling has gotten so much better," Tyler offered. "I could upload this, rerun it. I mean, how could yall not tell me about this-"

"Because I got it wrong!" Nellie watched as Kate got emotional. "In the field, when it mattered, I got it wrong. I pushed it too far, and for what? A dream to make a difference? It was never going to work. And I have to live with that forever."

"You know," Tyler said lowly. "EF1 or EF5 rating. It's not based on size or win speed. The power is based on damage. And it's only after the fact we can define it. What it destroys, what it takes. I'm sorry that it happened. But how much more will y'all let this thing take from y'all?"

"You should get some sleep," Kate said tightly. "Don't want to miss any storms tomorrow."

Tyler sighed and Nellie walked over to place a hand on his back, ushering him out as he put the notebook down. "I'm sorry," he apologized as they walked into the house. "I pushed too hard."

"You didn't," Nellie shook her head as she looked up at him in the light of the dim kitchen lamp. "You pushed just enough." And with that, Nellie left him with a sweet kiss on the cheek, and headed to bed. 

[yabagofmilfs]

i love this photo. like, anna is clearly not wearing a bra, geno isn’t wearing underwear, sid and kathy made sure to leave enough room for a stack of bibles and sid has his requisite i don’t know how to appear human when there’s a smartphone pointed at me face. i think he’s also the one taking it? so many blessings in one photo.

[harrywavycurly]

I love that we told Jeff that our brother won’t kick his ass🤣 is there a chance we can see Jeff’s call with us? Love to see him apologize!!

Hiii lovey!! Yes of course you can get his phone call to you, I think you totally deserve to see him apologize! I hope you enjoy💖

-find all things Southern Comfort here✨

A/N: You’re just trying to enjoy your morning walk on the beach and getting some gossip from Kathy but Jeff kinda gets in the way of that✨

“Oh my goodness he did all that?” “Yes I’m telling you Niall is-” “I’m sorry Kathy one moment someone is calling me….oh god…it’s Harry’s manager uhm I gotta take this I’m sorry.” “It’s okay! I’ll call you tonight.” “Okay bye girl!” “Well howdy Jeffery.” “Hey…is uh is now an okay time to uhm talk?…are..you busy?” “Not busy at all…just having my coffee and enjoying a little walk on the beach.” “You’re having coffee while walking on the beach?” “Yes? Why?” “Don’t you refuse to use…those to go cup things for your coffee? You only use-” “I like a mug for my coffee…so yes I’m walking on the beach with a mug in my hand but that’s not the oddest thing someone is gonna see on this beach this mornin’ so I’m not too worried…now… what can I do for you Jeff?” “I..listen I’m sorry.” “And what exactly are you sorry for?” “I shouldn’t have spoken to you the way that I did…it was wrong of me and I apologize for just being a jerk…I shouldn’t have interrogated you like that because Harry doesn’t just…bring everyone he dates to meet me and that should’ve been my first clue that he was serious about you.” “Well I accept your apology thank you for that…can I ask you something right quick?” “I feel like I can’t…say no so..sure.” “Do you trust me? Like do you think I’m just some Texas redneck who’s gonna just use Harry for all he’s worth and chew him up and spit him back out all broken and useless?” “I don’t think you’re a redneck.” “Oh good because that’s the important part of what I just said.” “I uh..I mean we don’t know each other do we? At least not really? So…it’s hard to say if I trust you yet but…I trust Harry’s judgment and he..well we both know how he feels about you so..I’m kinda just going off that.” “I’ll be damned…you and I agree on somethin’…you’re right we don’t know each other very well but I also trust Harry’s judgment and he loves you Jeff so you can’t be all asshole and no sunshine…” “So we can at least try to get to know each other and be civil right? And maybe one day we will be friends?” “Yeah…yeah maybe one day we will be friends but for now I’ll just be sure to tell my brother that you apologized and make sure when he comes to visit me in a few weeks he doesn’t have to pay you a visit…” “Uh yeah that…that would be great if you…told him that he doesn’t need to pay me a visit…his name is Grant right?” “Yup his name is Grant..but really Jeff…I hope you do realize you and I are on the same team…we just play different positions that’s all.” “We both just want Harry to be happy.” “Exactly…is there anything else you wanted to talk to me about or can I finish my walk in peace now?” “Yeah you can finish your walk…but also to really answer your question…I don’t think you’re using Harry…you’ve put up with way too much of his…weirdness if you were just in it for the money or fame and…I mean you don’t even post photos of the two of you or try to be seen together so…yeah I don’t think you’re with him for the wrong reason.” “Thank you…that really does mean a lot to me hearing you say that…he is an odd little duck ain’t he? But lord is he cute.” “Oh yeah he’s so cute…but I’ll let you go…have a good day.” “You too Jeff…bye now.”

[taylorcritic]

Taylor and Conor

Continued thread part three

August 2012

in an interview with rolling stone, the singer beamed at the idea of living next-door to her boyfriend of barely a month.

late august, things turned sour when taylor escorted Conor to the wedding of his cousin, kyle, in boston.

while conor was invited, according to kyle's mother vicki, he'd failed to RSVP and his attention-grabbing pop star date was persona non grata.

"they texted me an hour before the wedding and asked if they could come," vicki told the boston herald. "i responded, 'please do not come.' they came anyway."

when vicki asked them leave, swift wouldn't budge. "it was like talking to a ghost. she seemed to look right past me."

after an awkward standoff, the couple left the reception only to return later. "the family felt like they couldn't do anything," a source told people magazine.

Taylor's rep denied the story. "taylor was invited to the wedding and the bride thanked her profusely for being there."

kathie lee gifford. , a guest at the wedding, gave her account of the drama on the today show.

"vicki's account is accurate... [swift was asked to leave] twice."

the two patched things up and the next day swift accompanied Kennedy on a trip to his mother's grave paparazzi in tow taking multiple photos of the Kennedy family mourning

the two would be separated for several days the next week as taylor promoted her new song, the singer would send her private jet to fetch kennedy in hyannis and bring him to nashville.

"he's been with her ever since and his family doesn't know when he will be back."sources told vanity fair

things would come to a quiet finish. with kennedy returning to high school and swift promoting her new album, the two would soon call it quits. Taylor later says it was a distance thing and that they have no hard feelings

in an interview with rolling stone that fall, swift would address the wedding controversy, insisting it was all a misunderstanding.

"i would never knowingly show up somewhere that i thought i wasn't invited to. and i would never want to upstage anybody."

in j. randy taraborrelli's book "the kennedy heirs," that came out 2018 conor had also felt uncomfortable with swift's purchasing a house next-door.

"it seemed as if she was getting a little too attached."

in 2013 swift sold off the last of her her camelot dreams - her $4 million cape cod mansion - flipping it for a million dollar profit and setting her sits on freshly eighteen one direction member harry styles Taylor now twenty four

[muzaktomyears]

Mimi said she had received a packet of photographs of John from Linda McCartney. They were from the White Album photo shoot. Mimi didn’t care for any of those particular photos. She thought John looked horrible in each and every one. It didn’t take away from the kindness of sending them, she said, but they weren’t photos she’d be keeping. She also found it somewhat odd that the pictures came on their own with no letter or note.

The Guitar’s All Right as a Hobby, John, Kathy Burns (2014)

[i-think-i-did-it-again]

The Tour XII

Warning: swearing, drinking, smut, angst

You’re not sure if it’s out of annoyance or he genuinely wants to but as soon as Colson strides back into the green room, he suggests we all go out and get shit faced. Everyone jumps at the idea and begins discussing places to go, who to invite, what time to go. You listen to the hum of conversation around you, enjoying the fact that no one knows Colson was on his knees half an hour ago. The thought makes your pussy pulse and you cross your legs tightly. Ashleigh and Sophie begin planning outfits and deciding what to do for their makeup and hair. Sophie insists on glamming you up for the occasion as there will definitely be paparazzi and people in the club taking photos. You reluctantly agree and the three of you head back to the hotel to get ready.

“So how did you end up in my clothes after the concert tonight?” Sophie asks as she finishes curling your hair. You look at her face in the reflection of the mirror and instantly blush.

“I spilt something on my clothes,” you mutter, looking away from her to sip your homemade cocktail.

“I call bullshit,” Ashleigh calls from the bedroom behind you. As much as you hate their prying, you love that they both know you well enough to tell when you’re lying.

“Ok but swear to me that you won’t say anything, ok?” you beg with pleading eyes.

Ashleigh is suddenly in the bathroom beside Sophie when you turn on your chair to speak. You don’t really know where to start but you figure you should probably start from the beginning, considering neither of them know the full extent of what the fuck has been going on with Colson and you. You take a deep, steadying breath, square your shoulders and look up at your two best friends.

“Colson and I have been hooking up secretly since the start of the tour,” you don’t wait for them to react before quickly continuing. “When I asked that we put some rules in place, he was a dick, we stopped and I thought that was the end of it. Then he went and made it all confusing by being an asshole to Chase, storming into my hotel room when clearly we went in there to be alone. What made it even more confusing was the fact that he went and apologised for all his shitty behaviour.”

“Classic Kells, act first and think second,” Ashleigh shakes her head with a sigh. You couldn’t possibly agree with her more.

“Yeah well, I made it worse by accepting his apology because he seemed to believe that meant we could go back to hooking up but I shut him down.”

“And how did he take that?” Sophie gives you an all knowing smile and you sink back into your seat with shame.

“You saw how he took it. I ended up making out with him on the bus, remember?” they nod, remembering exactly what you’re talking about because they both walked in on said make out with Rook. “I just didn’t want to get sucked in anymore so I thought that if I forced him to leave me alone, things would go back to normal eventually but instead, I just made things worse.”

“Hey, you can’t blame yourself for this whole thing. Kells is just as much involved as you are except he knows how to put on an act. The fact that he’s choosing not to is more a reflection on him than it is on you,” Ashleigh reassures you but somehow you can’t seem to see things the way she does. Your sole purpose for being here is to keep him in check and you’re failing miserably, according to Francis and Kathy anyway. 

You stand up and push your way past them to the clothes Sophie has laid out on the bed for you. It’s not your usual style but you know you have to trust the process when it comes to her choices. Most of the time what she picks out works in your favour but you have to push through the initial shock to see it. This time is no exception.

Laid on the bed is a tight fitting black long sleeve top with a turtleneck, a faux leather skirt with a silver zipper running up the front and black satin thigh high boots. If anyone else suggested this outfit to you, you’d laugh in their face but for some reason when Sophie does, you go with it without question. Still, you grimace internally at the short length of the skirt.

“You still didn’t answer my question though,” Sophie sits you on the bed to start on fixing your makeup now that your hair is done.

“I forgot what the question was,” you lie and you know you don’t fool either of them. Sophie raises one perfectly plucked eyebrow at you and you buckle. “I got wet when I stepped into Colson’s shower and he…ate me out.” you blush a bright red and focus on looking anywhere but at the two of them.

“You are a fucking queen,” Sophie praises you and Ashleigh cheers.

“To a fucking queen!” Ash toasts, raising her solo cup in the air and throwing the entire contents back in one gulp.

They drop the topic after that. You’re not sure if it’s because they sense your discomfort or because they want to maintain your privacy or both but you’re grateful. As much as you love your best friends, you’ve never really been the kiss and tell kind of person, especially when you’re not even really sure what to classify Colson and you at the moment. It feels wrong to be sharing every gory detail, even if they are his friends too. 

When your makeup is done, you’ve almost finished an entire bottle of wine and you’ve put the intimidating outfit on, it’s time to meet the guys in the lobby. Ashleigh snaps a few pics of the three of you in the elevator for Instagram and you’re actually really starting to like how the outfit looks on you. When you step into the lobby and all the guys catcall you, you like the outfit even more. 

You look around and notice that Colson is missing but Rook assures the group that he’s on his way down. When the elevator dings and Colson steps out, your heart stutters in your chest. Even though you’re trying so hard to be indifferent to him, you can’t help but be flawed every time you see him. His bleach blonde hair, his angular jaw and sharp cheekbones, the way his eyes flicker different shades depending on the lighting of the room, his pink lips always set in a slight pout, the way his nose ring catches in the light. The thing that stands out to you the most though, is his intimidating height. When he walks into a room, everyone knows it because he stands at least a foot taller than most people. There’s something about his tall stature that makes you want to forget your inhibitions and climb him like a tree.

“Let’s fucking party,” he grins at the guys and begins walking through the lobby. 

You try your best to stand off to the side and out of his line of sight but Sophie and Ashleigh link their arms with you and drag you with them, making damn sure they get his attention in the process. You can’t help but enjoy the way his eyes bulge slightly as he takes you in. You also like the way you notice him adjusting his dick uncomfortably without drawing any attention to what he’s doing but you know.

There’s a couple of black vans waiting for you all outside. Sophie, Asleigh and you all pile into one of the vans, letting the guys work out who is going in each one. You can’t help the butterflies in your stomach when Colson climbs into the same van as you but they tamper down when he pushes his way to the back, away from you. Ashleigh doesn’t allow you to dwell on it for too long, dragging you into a conversation about the club.

Why the fuck is she dressed like that?

Colson’s already pent up frustration is at a boiling point as he studies your smooth thigh from the back of the van. As if it wasn’t bad enough that you left him high and hard after the concert, now you have to go teasing him with your curves, breasts on full display in your tight top and sexy legs all exposed in your short skirt. Not to mention those boots. He’d pay a lot of money to have you in his room in just those boots. Rook is so invested in what he’s saying that he doesn’t even notice you’ve barely said a word and you’re grateful. This is going to be a long fucking night.

Colson peels his eyes away from you when the van comes to a stop and he can finally free himself. The smell of your perfume is filling his senses and it’s intoxicating enough that he’s not sure he can control himself. When he steps out of the van, he’s immediately greeted by the flash of cameras. A couple of bouncers from the club push their way through and escort you past the paparazzi. Colson has to resist the urge to turn around and make sure you’re ok. He knows that Rook will be standing on one side of you to protect you from the bodies trying to push their way towards you all, holding you to his side.

Lucky bastard.

When you all get into the club a manager with too much cologne and greasy hair directs everyone straight to a VIP section in the back. It sits on a raised platform that gives just enough leverage to see the dancefloor but not so much that it looks like a stage for everyone to gawk at. The lighting is slightly darker in the space, creating shadows in the corners of the couches for privacy. Colson immediately orders a shit ton of drinks, wanting to make sure he’s completely numb so he doesn’t think about you. Easier said than done if you weren’t three feet from him and looking like sex on legs.

When did I start fucking pining?

This was completely new territory for him. He was used to having women throw themselves at him so when you came along and said ‘thanks but no thanks’ it flipped everything upside down for him and he didn’t like it. He was always in control, he didn’t like giving that up for anybody. For you though, maybe he could make an exception.

You loved this club! The music was a mix of all your favourite artists and the DJ didn’t feel the need to constantly interrupt the tracks but talking over the lyrics with dumb catchphrases or shit singing. The dance floor was crowded but not suffocating and there didn’t appear to be many creepy men trying to grind up on unsuspecting women. Colson had ordered several rounds of shots and you were buzzed. You dragged Sophie to the dancefloor and you were so busy enjoying yourself, you barely even felt the pain in your feet from the heels. You’re sure the alcohol probably helped with that.

You were surprised that even the guys decided to join you all on the dance floor but it was entertaining watching Rook and Colson dance some ridiculous ‘routine’ they’d obviously come up with years ago. They adjusted the tempo to each song but the moves were still the same. A lot more shimming than you’re used to seeing two grown men do but entertaining nonetheless. 

When an RnB track begins and the beat slows, your own dance moves change. You go from jumping around to grinding and swaying your hips to the beat. You don’t resist when Colson moves closer to you, you like feeling his chest against your arm. You let the music take you. You turn your body so that you’re facing him, winding an arm behind his neck. He presses himself to you and you can feel his arousal through his tight pants. You both sway to the music, his hands on your hips determining your movements. You turn so your ass is right against his crotch. You grind so hard against him, you’re practically dry humping him in the middle of the club. His face is buried in your neck and you can feel the vibration every time he moans. 

You’re enjoying yourself way too much but as quickly as it begins, the song changes and a boppy pop song begins to play. You pull yourself away from Colson and return to dancing with Ashleigh and Sophie, Baze and Slim exchange a look but you ignore that. Colson’s glare is so intense, you’re pretty sure he’s plotting your death but you couldn’t care less. 

You’re drunk enough that you’re happy but not so drunk you’re going to be sick. It’s a fun balance that you’re not mad about. When you stumble into the silent lobby with Rook, the two of you are in such loud fits of laughter that the night manager shushes you from behind the desk. You giggle an apology to him and all the others scold the two of you. Colson trails behind the group like a sad puppy but you don’t really notice. 

You make it to your floor and everyone piles out, mumbling good nights to each other as you each stop at your respective doors. 

You’re the last one in the hallway because you’re searching through your clutch for your room key with one eye closed, at least you think you’re alone. Colson grips your wrist and drags you into his room, slamming the door behind him. 

“What do I have to do to get you to let me fuck you?!” he growls angrily and you stumble back from the volume of his voice. 

“I…” you start but you don’t really know how to end the sentence so you stop to think for a moment. An idea dawns on you and you grin evilly. “Beg,” you whisper seductively. 

“W-what?” Colson is staring at you like you’ve grown a second head.

“You heard me, I want you to beg for me to fuck you, right here, right now.” 

You’re practically purring in his ear now. Your tongue flicks his earlobe every now again for emphasis. You can tell it’s bringing him to his knees as he sways again. Sweet, innocent you commanding devilish him to beg for your affections? Unheard of. 

“Please baby, I need you,” he whines and you smile against his neck. 

“What do you need?” you kiss his jawline.

“Your…dripping wet pussy on my throbbing cock while you scream my name.”

You didn’t expect something so dirty to come out of his mouth and you can’t help the blush that spreads across your cheeks. You’d think after reading so many dirty novels that you could control your reactions but you know that there is a huge difference between reading a fictional character and actually listening to a living, breathing guy saying it. Especially when it’s a guy like Colson and especially when he’s saying those things about you.

“Demanding thing aren’t you?” you tease him with a tight smile. 

If he knew how much you were throbbing for him, your control would be revoked and you’d be putty in his hands. You trail your fingertips down his chest and he watches the path they lead to the hem of his t-shirt. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he was panting with anticipation. You want to tease him but the aching between your legs is begging you to stop being so damn cruel to her. When you lift his top and scrape your nails over his ‘Almost Famous’ tattoo, he all but falls to his knees in front of you.

“Please?” Colson whispers against the shell of your ear and you know exactly what he wants.

You cup his growing erection in the palm of your hand and gently rub against his jeans. He lets out a shuddering breath and throws his head back, resting himself against the door. You watch as he all but crumbles in front of you. A mixture of pleasure and relief plastered across his face but then anguish. You pull your hand back and cup it against your chest protectively.

“I’m sorry, I can’t do this,” you mutter and step away from him, he follows you though.

“No, please don’t stop,” he’s begging you again but this time, you’re not enjoying it. 

Your vagina is cursing you out but you tune her out. Every time you try to get some distance between you and Colson, he follows. You end up jumping across the bed so that he can’t follow you. You hold up your hand to halt him and even in the dim light from the lamp, you can see the hurt in his eyes. You know you’re being cruel and confusing but you can’t help it. You have questions you need answered and half drunk and horny Colson is the only one that will give them to you.

“What is this?” you wave a hand between the two of you and he groans.

“Why do you women need everything defined?” he scrubs his hands over his face and sits on the floor with a huff. “Just enjoy the goddamn moment and be grateful.”

“Grateful for you? I don’t fucking think so.” for the second time tonight, Colson looks at you like you’ve grown a second head.

“What the hell does that mean?”

“Who’d be grateful for a selfish, moody, cruel man like you? One minute you’re warm and gentle and the next you’re giving everyone that ‘fuck off’ attitude you’ve perfected and not talking to anyone for days. You’ve made Ashleigh’s life a living hell over the last few months and you could care less,” he winces but you’re not finished. “One of your oldest friends in the world and all you’ve done is be an asshole to her for no good reason.”

“Fuck you! Just because you don’t know the reason, doesn’t mean it’s not a good one,” he spits at you and you step back like he’s pushed you.

“Ok, fine then. What’s the perfectly justified reason for why you’ve been such an asshole to everyone? Why have you been drinking, screwing and snorting your way to an early grave no matter who it hurts?”

“BECAUSE I DON’T WANT TO BE HERE ANYMORE!” he screams and jumps to his feet. 

You’ve seen Colson get mad, hell you’ve seen him in fights with actual punches and blood, but this mad is so different. He practically morphes into a new person before your eyes and it terrifies you. You try to not show it but you can tell by the way he tries to calm himself that he notices your fear.

“I…I never thought I’d be the guy whose happiness depends on another person but when she left, I couldn’t shut the voices up.” 

By ‘she’, you can only assume he’s referring to his ex fiance Megan who left him for her ex-husband and to be honest, he’d made it seem like the whole thing didn’t bother him. No one was stupid enough to believe him but given that he pretty much jumped back into single life and didn’t start acting out until 12 months after their break up, everyone assumed the two were unrelated. You should’ve known better and you feel guilty that you didn’t.

“I thought you didn’t care,” you whisper but then you smack yourself for saying something so dumb.

“To be honest, I didn’t. We hadn’t been happy for a long time and I was relieved when she ended things. The anxiety started when I asked myself one question ‘why wasn’t she happy with me?’ and then ‘what’s wrong with me?’. It just played on some already pretty strong insecurities.”

It made sense. You’d gone through enough break ups to know that even if it’s the most amicable break up in the history of break ups, you always end up asking yourself those exact same questions and sometimes the unknown will eat you up inside. You have this uncontrollable thought that you’re the problem, that one particular thing you did, what it was you’ll never know, pushed that person to stop loving you. Makes them realise you’re not right for them, not good enough for them, not desirable enough for them. If you don’t have strong-will and a little bit of self-confidence and esteem, the thoughts become all consuming and you never open yourself up to anyone ever again.

“There were other issues that already existed so I’m not blaming everything on that but I thought if I pushed people away, I could at least minimise the damage.”

“What were the other things?” you ask before you can stop yourself and judging by the look on his face, you don’t want to know the answer.

“You,” he whispers and your breath stills.

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

Tag list:

@mgklove99xx

[prozac-shaped-urn]

Deborah Vance meta analysis (again)

Alright, it's time to read too much into shit but considering that JPL straight up said the whole opening sequence of season 3 with the Ceasar statue was foreshadowing... I feel like I can be forgiven for what's about to come out of my fingertips.

Anyway. I am once again putting my psych degree to use in dissecting fictional characters and story arcs. Enjoy x

So! We have the Margesson family with Fred, Martha, Deborah and Kathy. Fred and Martha were five years apart in age, as are Deborah and Kathy (considering there's a reference to Deb's age in 301 as being 70 – which was Jean's age at the time of filming – I can safely assume JPL are using J and Jean's real ages here). That's just enough of an age difference in siblings for there to be a firm power imbalance and hooboy. Hooooooo boyyyyyyyy that's an entirely different can of worms I analyzed a few years ago and turned into 98k... But before I get too into the weeds here, I should introduce my thesis:

Deborah Vance is a survivor, a provider, a mother, and an icon. She was forced to be the first three thanks to her childhood family dynamic and built an empire as a result.

What we've been given in terms of parental backstory is minimal. Deborah mentions her dad being a drinker (304). Based on DJ's addiction storyline, I can reasonably assume JPL are educated on addiction patterns and family trauma cycles. Kathy says their mom wouldn't have wanted there to be animosity between her and Deborah (307), and based on Deborah's isolation and decision to go no-contact with Kathy, I think JPL are leaning towards Deborah needing to distance herself in order to make sure she doesn't explode and cause bodily harm... more than she ends up inflicting.

There are elements of classical narcissism in Deborah's behavior – mainly the need to have zero contact with the narcissist in order to heal. While I don't think Kathy is a narcissist, I firmly believe Frank was. He was jealous, histrionic, selfish, and cunningly manipulative. These are all traits of Narcissistic Personality Disorder, and yeah, Deborah possesses these qualities too. The difference between her and Frank, though, is that Deborah is using these tools to ensure she succeeds. She doesn't use them to take someone else down. She lets Ava go so she won't get in the way of Ava's success. She doesn't want to take up all the space in the room. She wants Ava to learn from her and apply the lessons so she can also succeed. It would be very easy for someone to take a single look at Deborah and assume she's hollow – and I think the pilot did a very good job of showing just that! The only glimpse we get behind the curtain is when Deborah sees that Frank died. She doesn't react except to say, “I can't believe they used that photo,” which is classic avoidance and emotional detachment. It's a coping mechanism she developed in her childhood.

I have to interject here and mention Deborah's desire to keep DJ close when she was a child. When a narcissist has their hooks into someone, they don't let go. They will use every tactic known to mankind to ensure the safety blanket they have chosen doesn't leave. So when Frank blew everything up, Deborah left, and Frank went after Kathy because she was 19 and easily manipulated. I think Deborah witnessed what Frank was doing to her and Kathy and decided to protect DJ by pulling her onto the road in a tour bus so Frank couldn't get to her. Obviously this backfired and resulted in DJ having a healthy(ish) relationship with Kathy because Frank was a master manipulator. Deborah saw that toxic father/daughter bond and went, Nope, not trying to fix this one – I'll only make it worse. Not to mention Frank's smear campaign! I mean Jesus Christ, the guy just couldn't wait to sign divorce papers. He had to destroy everything so Deborah wouldn't get somewhere without his help. So she wouldn't succeed on her own. So he would get all the credit, much like Ira did (“He gets to take credit for me? Put my photo up on his fucking wall?” 108).

In terms of why Deborah is the way she is, that's layered and difficult to summarize. A lot of her behavior stems from childhood trauma and her early adulthood. I think if Deborah had never met Frank, things would have been very, very different between her and Kathy. I think they would have continued to support each other and openly communicate, and despite there being a power imbalance between them, as Kathy matured and Deborah witnessed her growth, I think that Deborah would have been proud of the woman Kathy turned out to be. I think she's still proud of the woman Kathy turned out to be, even if she “hates” her or whatever. The dynamic of older sister/younger sister is very fraught with a mix of caretaking and jealousy. It's a super complex relationship, which is only usurped by the mother/daughter dynamic. Judging by how deeply bonded Deborah and Kathy were before 1976, it's very clear why Deborah feels so extremely betrayed by Kathy for what Frank did to them both. And it's also very clear why Kathy's appearance triggers Deborah so harshly she vomits.

Kathy embodies all the trauma from Frank, and keeping her distanced for so long let Deborah fall into a false sense of security and assumption that she had healed from all the shit that happened (which is debunked in 206 – “I got over my husband, but I never got over [losing a late night show].”) She never did. And knowing how Deborah reacts to the possibility of failing, which is to say that she doesn't react well – insomnia, anxiety, obsessive behaviors, defensiveness, blackmail – for her to not only not be healed after 50 years but to also be so overcome by emotion that she has a physical reaction? That's unconscionable. Unacceptable. A weakness. A secret shame. She's failed and it's the end of the world. And in most cases in her childhood and marriage to Frank, it kinda was...

*big deep exhale*

Here's where the rubber meets the road when it comes to Deborah Vance's relationships. Any kind, any shape, any depth, anything. She's afraid to let someone down. She's afraid that she won't be good enough. She's afraid that she won't be strong enough. She's afraid that she won't have all the answers. She's afraid to not be able to provide the way she wants to and has been able to in the past. And it's all due to a number of factors:

Her mother died first

Her mother died when Deborah was 15 and Kathy was 10

Her father died when Deborah was 17 and Kathy was 12

Her father was an alcoholic

Her household wasn't big on rules

As I mentioned, the mother/daughter relationship is the most complicated relationship dynamic. Regardless of what gendered roles are, biologically speaking, the mother/child bond is unique in that the mother's womb is where the child literally grows. Mother and child are connected by blood and tissue for almost a whole year. There are certain things that are established at the time of conception which can never be established by the father and child. It's just that simple. Mother/child bonds are more intense as a result. Being the eldest daughter meant Deborah and Martha had that bond and it was uninterrupted for five years. As childhood psychology analysis can and will predict, having an only child status for any length of time will make the bond between mother and child more intense than that of succeeding siblings. Having multiple siblings doesn't detract from the mother/child bond, but the eldest will always have a little extra special bond with the mother. So Deborah losing that bond first was the biggest blow to her developing psyche. That was a loss she felt more acutely than Kathy.

Deborah became a mother at 15. When a parent dies, it's the eldest siblings – but specifically the eldest sisters – who immediately start parenting whoever is left, including anyone in the family unit – parents, grandparents, siblings, aunts, uncles, whoever. From what we know of Boomer culture and Greatest Generation morals, there's a very good chance Fred just delegated his parental duties to Deborah and checked the fuck out entirely after Martha died. From what I see Deborah doing when it comes to parenting, I wouldn't be surprised if this is a family pattern and learned behavior based in the fear of not measuring up.

Losing both parents before the age of 18 steals away any remaining childhood. Orphaned children are immediately thrust into survival mode and will stoop to what seem like unwarranted extremes like manipulation, blackmail, histrionic behavior, and bullying simply because they have to survive. There is no real way for orphaned children to support and protect themselves unless there's also a built-in safety net of siblings. Eldest siblings obviously support and protect more than the younger siblings, but the reward of there being kind of a quid-pro-quo or IOU or something along those lines is usually enough motivation to take on the responsibility of caretaking. As supported by the text, Deborah did her job as big sister. She protected Kathy from bullies (206) and she kept Kathy close until Frank got in the way (104). She continued these patterns in other areas of her life: “I would love nothing more than to bury you in more debt than medical school ever could” (106), “I helped a lot of people. I wasn't perfect but I did what I could” (108), “You have no fucking idea how much I do for you” (104). The behavior orphaned children usually develop as a result of being thrust into survival mode looks exactly like narcissistic traits. But as is seen throughout the series, Deborah doesn't use these tactics to tear someone else down. She uses them to survive.

Having an alcoholic parent (and therefore an unreliable parent) leaves the job of parenting to the eldest children, and in Deborah's case, this most likely had the biggest effect on her choice not to parent DJ. (Yes, there could be family pattern/learned behaviors at play here, too, and it might be a mix of both.) Not only does Deborah hesitate to develop a relationship with DJ, she flat out runs away from the responsibilities on more than one occasion. She avoids supporting DJ at the trade show, she offers small comforts of hand-me-down clothes rather than healthy communication, she chides DJ for going to therapy, and she jokes about DJ's sobriety. DJ confronts her numerous times and asks for a relationship but it's all in vain. There will never be a healthy, communicative, supportive, guilt-free relationship there unless Deborah has extensive therapy. Addressing the alcoholism and addiction that runs in her family might be too painful, so she may never do it. I would like to think JPL will at least have Deborah try, because they're crafting a redemption arc with her. This is one area I would like to see developed and explored more.

Having no structure during childhood and adolescent years is very detrimental to the developing psyches of children. There is definitely a thing as too much regimen, but having no structure at all is like giving a child the keys to a car and saying, “Good fucking luck!” It's beyond the realm of unhealthy; it's destructive. The child will learn to adapt, though. Some resulting adaptive behaviors are adrenaline seeking, dangerous hobbies like extreme sports, attachment issues, Borderline Personality Disorder, and attention seeking behaviors. It seems counter-intuitive to develop traits that fit into a structure-free home, but the child is using these adaptations as a way to normalize a very destructive environment. They aren't running hog wild because they want to. They're running hog wild because there is no other way for them to get the attention and care they need. These learned behaviors continue into adulthood in the form of attachment issues, cluster B personality disorders (Narcissistic Personality Disorder, Borderline Personality Disorder, Histrionic Personality Disorder, and Anti-social Personality Disorder), commitment issues, detachment, emotional abuse and neglect.

Based on these five factors, if Deborah didn't take care of herself and Kathy when Martha died, if she didn't take care of her dad when he was drunk, if she didn't coddle to the needs of Frank's narcissism, if she didn't get a perfect score on being the strongest person in the room, then she was a failure and there were extensive repercussions resulting in her, DJ's and Kathy's safety and survival being threatened. The result of this constant need to always be right so she will survive extends into her adulthood, resulting in perfectionism, obsession, tunnel vision, stringent morals, and a lack of flexibility.

Again, I have to stress, the traits of classical narcissism that Deborah exhibits are a result of her need to survive as: the only child of an alcoholic, then the eldest daughter, then the mother figure to Kathy, then the caretaker of her father, then the sole supporter of Kathy, then the wife of a narcissist, then the rejected wife, then the emotionally wounded woman she is known as today. She's exhausted, and it's no wonder why. She's been the strongest person in the room since she was 15. She's had to be. There was no choice. She either stepped up and took initiative or she died. There was no in-between.

For Deborah, the holy grail of success is getting a late night show. It not only symbolizes an happy, intact family unit (because her dad only laughed during Johnny Carson – 304), but it also realistically equips Deborah to be able to provide for herself and her family. It gives her a tangible reward for surviving all the shit that's been thrown her way. It's a tenured career, it's status, it's reliable, it's sustainable (inasmuch as anything in the entertainment industry is). It's all the things her childhood never was. She's worked her whole life to keep her head above water, and even when she could take a day off she doesn't because she's afraid someone else will come along and take her spot – “You have to scratch and claw and it never fucking ends, and it doesn't get better; it just gets harder.” (102)

So... This is why Deborah is the way she is, and this is why I love her. I see myself in her and knowing that she and I share so many things in common is part of the reason why this show means so much to me. Yeah, it's just a fucking TV show. It's fake and all that junk, but to me it's representation. And that means the world.

I can't thank JPL enough for giving me the gift of Deborah Margesson Vance. I also wanna know when they snuck into my childhood bedroom because holy shit...

[magentagalaxies]

Kids in the Archive: Episode 4

it's been a while, but thanks to the influx of new-old kids in the hall scripts i got from bruce's storage last summer and the fact that i already finished all my homework for this week i'm happy to present a new episode of Kids in the Archive! for those unfamiliar, kids in the archive is my show in which i focus on one individual kids in the hall sketch and give you a behind-the-scenes comparison of script and screen

Previous Episodes: Episode 1 - armada finale ("do we make it?") Episode 2 - fran & gordon: the vacation Episode 3 - comfortable

for our return to the archives, i'll be covering the S1E16 classic "Is He?"

this sketch is one of my favorites from season one, and one of my favorite cathy and kathi sketches altogether. i'd cite this as one of the many examples of kith being ahead of its time with regards to gay humor - i've shown this sketch to other gen z's who had no idea "is he (limps wrist)" goes back further than online memes. as a queer-comedy-history nerd i already knew about the gesture's origin, but i still was taken aback by how all these jokes feel completely timeless

The Handwritten Notes

overall, this sketch is fairly faithful to the script i received, so there aren't quite as many "alternate version" moments to showcase. however, this script does have the interesting quirk of having handwritten changes to it that don't follow the version in the tv show. other scripts in my collection have this, and i'm fairly sure these notes were made for adapting the sketch to a live show or tour. the photo above selects the walkout music as "9 to 5", and sets the scene in a break room with coffee and donuts rather than at their desks. this might be an easier setup for a live show with more limited sets, and build in time for the fan reaction to seeing favorite characters return

unfortunately the version of "tour of duty" on youtube was taken down, so i can't now compare these notes to the version in that tour recording. i do remember that i liked that version less. while i enjoyed the wordplay and euphemisms on their own, i felt they slowed down the flow of an already good sketch and distracted from the existing punchline. none of these euphemisms are present in this sketch, but there is one handwritten edit that i think weakens the writing

The "Improv"

in my previous episode, i cleared up the misconception that comfortable featured a fully improvised exchange. kids in the hall rarely improvised full dialogue on-air, even if they used it at some stage in their writing process. however, there are still small "improvised" elements to these performances that show the performers putting their own spin on the established structure. in "comfortable", it was scott replacing the "da da da da" song with "hava nagila" (for some reason, we may never know). in the case of the cathys, this improv often comes from trailed off sentences

most instances of kathi's giggle aren't specified, but during the stage direction "bruce just giggles like a ninny" scott improvises some sentence fragments to cover for kathi's awkwardness

The Ending

as i previously mentioned, there's no big difference between the script i received and the sketch that made it to air. it's a mostly faithful transcript of all the dialogue that was spoken, with some written descriptions of actions that take place. i feel like i'm just describing what any script is at this point

overall, i enjoy having "is he?" in my collection, not because it presents an alternate reality with different casting and whole other scenes like some of my scripts, but because of the indescribable feeling of having the script this favorite sketch of mine was made from. every wonderful part of this sketch started out as just words on a page, and was built upon to create something truly special. again, i could be describing any script, but damn it i love "is he?"

as always, i hope you enjoyed this episode of "kids in the archive" and be sure to stay tuned for the next one (which will hopefully be coming out much sooner this time). if you have a specific sketch you'd like to see a script-to-screen comparison for let me know and if i have it i'll make an episode and tag you in it.

[theanonymousninja247]

Sometimes you do crazy things

For the things you love. At least… I think that’s how the phrase goes…

AnYhOo, I may or may not have been planning to make a fool of myself for WEEKS to attempt to do this little photo shoot with @kathaynesart Yeehaw Peepaw shirt just because I adored it so much.

I took Peepaw with me on a little adventure to my friends little farm where he got to meet Scout, Fancy and little Dash. (The wee little devil decided just to nom on my fingers the entire time I was trying to take pictures. It was awesome 😆).

Just wanted to say thank you so much Mz. Kathy for all that you do. You’re a HUGE inspiration to me and I very much want to be like you when I grow up. Please also tell Replica Leo how much I love him too. Big hugs because I’m BIG fan! (I believe in you big guy. You’re doing a great job) 🙌🏼🧡💙🤠

ALSO CONGRATS ON POSTING YOUR COMIC! I literally sat open mouth when you posted like “DAYUM! Now THAT is some serious character development, plot lining and story world building”

[thesiouxzy]

That & he cancelled the tour because basically JB doesn’t want any crazies who were offended taking aim at The D while on stage. Such a dumb time to be alive 🫠 They’re trying to make an example out of KG, like they did with Kathy Griffin & her gorey Trump photo 🙄 Hypocrites! Meanwhile Trump & a lot of Republicans can do & say worse & everyone should be fine with it. Membah when Trump Tweeted this:

Ok, enough about this. Politics can often be so irritating! They can quickly bring out the nastiness in people. It’s a shame. I find it extremely annoying when politics start to ooze over & affect the arts. I love Tenacious D! Never much forget: Kyle took a bullet for JB. How quickly he forgot 😏😉

[librarycomic]

Continental Drifter by Kathy Macleod. First Second, 2024. 9781250813732. 218pp including an afterward, photos of Kathy and her family, and comics that she drew when she was a kid.

Kathy and her older sister Jennie grew up in Thailand where they were raised by older parents (their dad is a retired US soldier, their mother a Thai businesswoman). They attended international schools where they were educated in English. Their family also spent some summers in Maine with their father's family.

A lot of the book is about Kathy not feeling like she fit in, no matter where she is. It also explores the way her family didn't talk about the past and so often kept their feelings from each other.

Some people thought Kathy's dad was her grandfather. In Thailand after friend's brother told her she wasn't American, Kathy started to look forward to going to Maine, where she would be attending summer camp for the first time. (She also started keeping a diary as she began her countdown to the Maine trip.) In Maine, though, she and her family were clearly different from those around them. Despite a group of loving relatives there, it wasn't always a great experience. But camp wasn't a complete and utter disaster, either.

There's a lot to love about this book. It feels like the kind of story that might open up some kids' eyes about how they treat others, especially how questioning and excluding kids can make them feel like they don't belong. I'm a huge fan of Kathy's warm and welcoming camp counselor. And I loved the fart jokes, her relationship with her dad, the bits about Thai culture, and the cringy moment when her mom gave her a special something to take with her to camp.