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wonderfulworldofmichaelford · 2 years ago

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Is It Really That Bad?

It’s hard to believe nowadays, but there was a time where the Tim Burton/Johnny Depp duo was known for delivering nothing but certified bangers. Edward Scissorhands, Ed Wood, Sleepy Hollow… It was just hit after hit when these two joined forces. But in the mid 2000s, something shifted. It suddenly seemed like people were sick of Burton, sick of Depp, and most of all sick of them working together. Sure, Corpse Bride and Sweeney Todd were still well-liked, but once Alice in Wonderland hit theaters people weren’t shy about voicing their dislike of the director and especially the actor. Burton kind of skidded to a halt for a while, while Depp just kept making increasingly worse movies with Disney and generally not doing anything worthwhile after Rango, and while Alice was the breaking point, the cracks started to show in 2005 with a little film called Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.

An attempt to redo Roald Dahl’s novel about a precocious child touring the candy factory of a wacky candymaker was being planned for a long time, with even Nicolas Cage in talks at one point to be Wonka, and at another point good ol’ Martin Scorcese was attached to direct. But things just kept falling through until Burton got dragged in, and from there he proceeded to get things done and talk the studio out of stupid decisions like killing off Charlie’s dad and making Wonka a parental figure. Ah, but speaking of Wonka, that crucial role needed filling, and it seemed a lot of famous actors were considered for the role by the studio—Robin Williams, Patrick Stewart, Michael Keaton, Steve Martin, Bill Murray, Christopher Walken, Brad Pitt, Leslie Nielsen, Robert De Niro, Will Smith, Mike Meyers, Ben Stiller, pretty much every living member of Monty Python left at the time, Adam Sandler, and Marilyn Manson among them according to TVTropes—and Burton had an interesting idea for his second pick to play the guy:

But instead he went for his first pick, someone who’s actually very similar to Marilyn Manson in a lot of ways! Good ol’ reliable JD himself! Surely this was gonna bring in the big bucks! And... it did! It's the highest-grossing adaptation of one of Dahl's works ever, and Burton's second highest-grossing film!

Critics seemed mostly fine with it, but audiences were a lot more divided. Some people liked that it was a new and different take on the story that stayed a lot more true to the book than the beloved 1971 Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory (a movie that Dahl famously hated as much as he did Jewish people, so frankly who gives a shit about his opinion), while others clung to the nostalgia of the Gene Wilder Wonka and treated this new film like a war crime. How dare they remake their favorite movie, even though this isn't a remake, it's just a different adaptation of the same book!

So yes, this movie isn’t the most reviled film out there, but it definitely is incredibly divisive, and what’s more I distinctly recall even as a child being aware of the attitude towards Depp and Burton shifting towards the more negative when this film came out. So I figured it was a high time I see about revisiting it and find out if this second cinematic outing into Wonka’s factory was really that bad, or if it genuinely was a work of impure imagination.

THE GOOD

It may surprise you to hear that this film actually does a few things better than the 1971 film. This is especially evident in the four shitty children touring the factory with Charlie.

The ones from Willy Wonka were, to put it bluntly, dull and forgettable, and came off as far too sympathetic in regards to their fate because none of them aside from Veruca Salt showcased any terrible traits that would lead to them deserving their punishments. In this film, all these kids are assholes, so watching them fall prey to the karmic justice of Wonka's factory is all the more satisfying. We also get to see what happens to them after they get out, which is kind of funny. I’m not gonna pretend that they made them the deepest and most complex characters ever, but with how they updated them and with the young actors they got to portray them, they managed to inject a bit more life into them than you’d expect.

This movie also fixes Grandpa Joe, who is pretty infamous to fans of the '71 film as a total asshole who constantly encourages Charlie to steal and just in general seems like a massive burden to his family. Here, he actually is every bit the sweet old grandpa that you’d expect, and his motivations for wanting to go on the tour are a lot nicer and more sympathetic. He also never tries to push Charlie into a life of crime, which is nice.

Of course, the very best aspect of this movie is Deep motherfucking Roy. He’s the second best dwarf actor out there, only oovershadowed by Warwick “Leprechaun” Davis, and much like Davis was in Star Wars as the ultimate Glup Shitto—Droopy McCool.

And in this film he gets the incredible honor of being every single fucking Oompa-Loompa there is, and he is clearly having a blast and busting his ass. He had no prior dancing experience, but you could not tell with how he’s pulling off all these sick moves while spitting out diss tracks for children like he’s Blood on the Dance Floor. He really is the single best actor in the movie, and that’s not to slander anyone else—Roy is just that good. Like we have a scene-stealing minor role for Christopher Lee as Wonka’s dad, a crabby dentist who hates candy, and as amazing as he is Roy still is better. You better respect this man.

Speaking of men to respect: Danny Elfman. Taking lyrics straight from the book and weaving a unique style for each kid—Big Bollywood spectacle for Augustus (that was Roy’s idea), 70s funk for Violet, psychedelic rock for Veruca, and hard rock for Mike—the songs are all genuinely great and fun to listen to. I’d never go as far as to say they’re more iconic than the Oompa-Loompa tracks from the ‘71 film, but I think they function better as songs, and the fact each of them has their own distinct style to set them apart from each other was the right way to go. I do think Mike’s song is the weakest of the bunch, feeling a lot messier than the other three, but it’s not unbearably awful or anything.

THE BAD

The biggest issue with the film is that the two most important characters—Charlie and Wonka—fucking suck.

Let’s start with Charlie. Now, to be clear, I’m not putting any blame on Freddie Highmore—he was literally a child, and even then I think he’s doing his damndest to make Charlie cute and whimsical. The issue here is definitely on the writers, who saw fit to stuff him full of all the syrupy sweet Tiny Tim-esque kind-hearted poor child cliches but forgot to impart a personality to go with them. Charlie is, to put it bluntly, a boring and generic nice guy, and one who ends up feeling like a living plot device to further Wonka’s character development, something that feels especially egregious when his name is literally in the title.

And now let’s talk about Wonka. Boy, is there a lot to unpack with this guy.

Literally everything about this take on Wonka is incredibly awkward and off-putting. The most infamous aspect of him is definitely the look; with his pale skin and dorky haircut he looked a lot like Michael Jackson, who at the time the film came out was going through a very serious scandal where he was accused of doing awful things to children in his big rich guy mansion… which is essentially the plot of this film when you think about it.

But that’s just an unfortunate coincidence! It’s an ugly look, sure, but a good performance could make it palatable, and this was Johnny Depp during his big post-Jack Sparrow renaissance working together with the guy who helped put him on the map. Surely he wouldn’t deliver an incredibly awkward, cringey, and insufferable performance that dials up all his acting quirks to annoying levels, right?

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Here’s the thing: On paper, Depp’s Wonka is honestly not that different than Wilder’s. They’re both weird, quirky, reclusive confectioners with a not-so-hidden disdain for the kids touring their factory and snarky, condescending attitudes. What it all comes down to is the presentation, and to show you what I mean I’m going to use the most batshit comparison you’ve ever seen:

Burton’s Wonka is very similar to Zack Snyder’s Ozymandias.

“Now hold on, Michael,” I hear you exclaiming in utter bewilderment, “how are these two comparable? I know that both are fine with the wonton murder of children if it helps achieve their goals and that a lot of people are weirdly horny for them, but how is this a good comparison?” Well luckily I’m not trying to compare a mass-murdering anti-villain to a quirky chocolatier in terms of character, but in how the adaptation drops the ball with how they’re presented by removing the more warm and positive aspects of them. In Alan Moore’s comic, Adrian Veidt is essentially a relentlessly charming gigachad, an affable and approachable fellow who seems beneath suspicion because he exudes a traditionally heroic warmth. In the movie, however, Snyder chose to portray Veidt as a cold, distant twink who doesn’t seem particularly approachable at all (another case of Daddy Zaddy tragically missing Moore’s point).

This same "missing the point" issue plagues Wonka. Yes, Wilder’s take is just as much a smug asshole reveling in the comeuppance the children are receiving, but he also has a genuine warmth to him which is codified perfectly with him singing “Pure Imagination.” Sure, he’s perfectly willing to traumatize everyone with a demented boat ride shortly after, but Wilder’s performance and the presentation of his Wonks help sell him as a quirky genius who is more likable than insufferable, and you really understand how despite being kind of a dick he is also a beloved figure.

Depp’s Wonka fails as the character in the same basic ways that the movie version of Veidt does: He's a condescending, cold, openly rude, guy who is just genuinely unpleasant to be around despite the movie really trying hard to make him likable and relatable, to the point where unlike Wilder's take it's hard to grasp why this guy gets any respect from anyone. He’s like the proto-Rick Sanchez, except he’s not even particularly funny to make up for it. Maybe this take is more accurate to the book, but if it is it’s really just proof that taking liberties when adapting really is for the best.

And this failure is only compounded by the movie piling on a tragic backstory for Wonka. Yes, Christopher Lee is great, but there is genuinely no need to pile on a traumatic childhood and weird daddy issues to Willy Wonka. The character works best as this weird, trickster mentor figure who dishes out karma to the naughty kids and ultimately rewards the good egg of the bunch. Trying to bring a guy with a magical factory full of dwarfs who do choreographed diss tracks every time a kid falls into the incinerator down to earth and make him relatable is just a mind-boggling decision.

These are really the only two issues with the film that stand out as excessively bad, but… you see the problem, right? The titular character and the owner of the titular chocolate factory are both bad. One’s a living prop, the other is just an obnoxious asshat who is given unneeded character development that ends up falling flat, and while this would be easy to ignore if they were side characters it’s impossible to let slide since they are the main fucking characters. The whole film revolves around the two very worst things in it, and no matter how good the other stuff in the movie is these elements alone drag it down a lot.

IS IT REALLY THAT BAD?

Look, I’m not going to pretend like this is a great film. If it really is closer to Dahl’s book, all it managed to do is convince me to never read it and solidified my belief that being pragmatic when adapting books to screen is the way to go. It’s also really easy to see how the Burton-Depp fatigue came about, as this is some of the weakest work in both of their filmographies.

But I still feel like there’s plenty to like here. The songs, the bratty kids, Deep motherfucking Roy, it’s all genuinely good shit! There was never a chance it was going to be iconic as the Wilder film, but it’s disingenuous to write it off entirely when it does a lot good things (and a few things better than the '71 version). A lot of people are nostalgic for this one these days, as it's the one this generation grew up with, and honestly? I can't really blame them entirely. It's a decent enough movie, and I honestly think that score it has up there is pretty fair. It's certainly a mixed bag but when it actually succeeds at being charming it does it in its own unique way rather than trying to ape the beloved classic that came before it, and I do respect it for that.

And hey, if Johnny Depp's worst and most annoying movie role is in a movie I'd still say is okay, that's a good thing right? He couldn't possibly ever take a role more cringeworthy and annoying than Wonka in a film that's genuinely shitty, right?

Right?

RIGHT?!

#is it really that bad?#IIRTB #Charlie and the Chocolate Factory #Tim Burton #Johnny Depp #Willy Wonka #Roald Dahl #book adaptation #review #movie review #Youtube

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metal-mewtwo · 5 months ago

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@pokeask-magi-retreat

An unusual looking Mewtwo ((all though, for many of the mewtwo variants ,they all looked unusual)) entered the event under the cover of darkness. How he got there was a mystery, something to do with time and space portals maybe. His eyes are black with glowing blue irises that were almost digital in appearance. His skin, though made of flesh, reflected the moonlight with the colour of silver chrome and his belly/tail was either an iridescent purple or dark blue, depending on how the light hit. As a newly revived former villain, he has a new lease on life as well as a new body. Finding himself in this new world and thrown into a social setting to improve his public interactions. All in the sake of reforming him into a better person. Short rundown of his personality: A bit eccentric, unhinged, can be a jerk/look down on others. Likes tea parties. And has the voice like Emperor Belos from the Owl house. (In some cases Metal Mewtwo's voice leans towards John Cleese from the Monty Python movies.) Approach him if you dare. Interaction hints: He likes flattery even if he can see through someone's attempt to get on his good side for their personal gain.

#the icon image for the blog is a place holder until I can get a decent image ref up.#event posting #pokeask-magi-retreat

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commonguttersnipe · 2 years ago

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Rank every Monty Python song out of 10 and give reasons why for your ranking them as it is please?

Always Look On The Bright Side Of Life- 10/10 (just a classic)

Knights Of The Round Table- 7/10 (I appreciate the commitment to character)

The Silly Walk Song- 7/10 (It itches my brain the right way)

I Bet You They Won’t Play This Song On The Radio- 10/10 (my favourite!)

Galaxy Song- 11/10 (It always makes me feel good on a rough day… ironically)

I Like Chinese- 6/10 (the O2 one is the best)

The Penis Song- 3/10 (ew.)

Sit On My Face- 9/10 (strangely romantic?)

Do What John- 5/10 (so is John going to do anything?)

Lousy Song- 0/10 (not really a song. heck, Graham says in the song itself that it’s appalling)

Lumberjack Song- 10/10 (I CAN TREAT YOU BETTER BEVIS)

Here Comes Another One- 7/10 (I don’t think I’ve laughed harder at a song)

Rainy Day In Berlin- 5/10 (nothing too special about this one)

Bruce’s Philosopher Song- 10/10 (constantly gets stuck in my head)

I’m Still So Worried- 9/10 (I’m now starting to think Terry and I were very similar people)

Muddy Knees- 6/10 (extra points for crooning)

Never Be Rude To An Arab- 7/10 (I also think we should blow up racists!)

Rudyard Kipling- 8/10 (Just a vibe)

Henry Kissinger- 6/10 (weird crush but sure)

Every Sperm Is Sacred- 10/10 (I actually listened to this when I went condom shopping. good times.)

Eric The Half A Bee- 8/10 (why is John so adorable singing this?!?)

Brian Song- 10/10 (never been more pumped up by an opening credits)

The Meaning Of Life- 8/10 (Eric screaming at us about existence 👍)

Blackmail/Nudge Rap- 10/10 (slaps for absolutely no reason at all)

Spam- spam/spam (spam)

Medical Love Song- 8/10 (Graham really pulled out every std he knew)

Money Song- 7/10 (*James A Janisse voice* BUSINESS)

Finland- 12/10 (it’s the place where he quite wants to be!)

Christmas In Heaven- 8/10 (heaven sounds pretty cool…)

I’ve got two legs- 5/10 (he sure does!)

Oliver Cromwell- 6/10 (ugh)

#monty python #graham chapman #john cleese #terry gilliam #eric idle #terry jones #michael palin

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hoodoo12 · 2 years ago

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Two show Wednesday

"Two show Tuesday" sounds better, but the travel plans didn't work out that way.

I saw a play and a musical. Dracula: A Comedy of Terrors and Spamalot. Mild spoilers under the cut (mostly for Spamalot).

Dracula was in an off Broadway production in a theater of ~250 seats. It was nice to be in such an intimate theater; even though we were fourth row the stage was so much closer because there was no pit. I loved the set design! They did a lot with a little. The show was a tight 90 minutes so there was no lag time or dragging out the plot. Out of the five actors, four of them played multiple roles, sometimes in the same scene!

Because the show was short and a comedy, I'd call it Dracula-lite or Cliffs Notes Dracula lol. There were changes to some backstories and genderswapping, and Dracula had a change of heart at the end. There were puppets, a bat on a stick, lots of black lace well-cut men, and every actor did an absolutely bangup job with the comedy.

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Dracula, A Comedy Of Terrors (@draculacomedy)

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Before it was a stage show, it was a radio drama -- oops, podcast. The podcast starred a ton of stars: Christopher Sieber, John Stamos, Annaleigh Ashford, Laura Benanti, Alex Brightman, James Monroe Iglehart, Richard Kind, Rob McClure, Ashley Park, Alan Tudyk, Kathy Fitzgerald, Jeff Kready, and Orville Mendoza.

Listen to it here: Apple Podcasts, Spotify, or Broadway Podcast Network.

Second show was Spamalot! I was excited to see the differences between the Kennedy Center and Broadway.

The sets were slightly different: bigger, flashier, with an expensive looking forest. If you know, you know, lol. Some lines were changed but nothing drastic. God was Steve Martin, which is apropos. It was Leslie Kritzer's first night back after being sick; she made reference to that and her improv game is top notch.

Ethan Slater was great. The person I went with said they could hear his Spongebob voice when he sang as Prince Herbert but I didn't hear that (I laugh too hard at those scenes because they're my favorite). The person sitting to my other side had never seen the show or knew much about Monty Python (apparently) and he was INTO IT. I loved that he enjoyed it so much and some of it took him by surprise.

I really enjoyed Taran Killan. He made Sir Lancelot his own versus aping was Alex Brightman did and it worked. His French Taunter also got huge laughs because he dragged some of it out to an awkward amount of time but got the audience into it, which brought it back around to funny again. You know Justin Collette's outrageously long scream when Lydia heads into the Netherworld? Increase that time by about two minutes and that's what Killan did during one specific part of the scene. His costume for "His Name is Lancelot" was also different with many more bedazzled flames, lol

Good quick trip with good shows!

ps: We stopped at a random cafe before Spamalot and David Josefsburg was there! I tagged him on my IG and he dmed me back, lol

#personal #Spamalot #Dracula #Broadway #Instagram

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roseofithaca · 11 months ago

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The Forgotten Ones

(Just some angsty venting with my ocs Silver and Robin's ghost-cub Kya, and a surprisingly good therapist).

"Feel better?"

Silver nearly jumped out of skin at the voice, Kya letting out a tiny squeak as her hands gripped the pup extra tight.

"Sorry! Sorry. Didn't mean to spook." Humphrey apologised, his head lying on its side beneath the bed.

Steadying her breathing, Silver soothed both Kya and herself by stroking the cub's velvety soft ears.

"You've been there the whole time?"

"Well...yeah. I didn't wanna disturb ya, love. Seemed like you wanted to be alone...more or less. And I couldn't exactly quietly shuffle out, so...."

"You just thought you'd enjoy the show?" She accused.

Humphrey went quiet.

He'd been stuck in that room since the early hours of the morning, having skidded across the landing and through the walls after being accidentally kicked by Kitty as she'd excitedly dashed to the ballroom.

Eight hours of boredom, meditation, then more boredom, then replaying his favourite Monty Python sketches in his head, followed by more boredom had passed. Then his solitude had been interrupted by the sound of a screaming match from the other end of the house, followed by Silver entering the room that was now mostly used by Robin but had once been shared between him and their dearly departed peasant farmer.

As he'd been about to sigh in relief and call her attention over so he could finally be picked up before that rather large spider got too close to his nose, the girl had collapsed onto the floor.

She was crying. Distraught, even.

Tucking her legs up to her front, she'd huddled close to the window and wrapped her arms around herself. No. Humphrey squinted and saw that she wasn't alone. Kya was nestled against the black fabric of Silver's boob tube, the Neo Pagan stroking her tiny head as she rocked herself back and forth.

Once again, Humphrey opened his mouth to ask if she was okay. Then he heard what she was muttering.

"Artemis, Diana, Luna light, take away my endless plight. Artemis, Diana, Luna light, take away my endless plight."

She repeated the chant, the mantra, over and over, her eyes staring out into nothing.

It broke Humphrey's heart to see her this way. True, he'd never been as close to her as Mary or Robin or Kitty. But she was one of the few who made an effort to always pick him up when she found him. And he admired her usually positive outlook even if she did seem to have her head in the clouds, or rather the stars. Same as the caveman really, just with better speech and body odor.

It was rare that smile ever seemed to leave her face, even less so to see her cry. He thinks this might be the first, at least for him. More than ever, she looked like a child.

And the way she was praying for comfort to whatever was troubling her....reminded him of Her.

His twelve year old wife gritting her teeth and clutching at her rosary, mumbling a hundred Hail Mary's as she knelt on the hardwood floor. Even then, when he was only a kid himself, he knew she was praying to be taken away from this place. Away from him.

Humphrey knew it was wrong to be watching. Sophie had taught him that well enough the last time. But he didn't really have a choice this time. Sure, he could close his eyes but not his ears.

He left her to her pray. Let her seek comfort in her faith and the texture of Kya's fur. Only when her breathing had evened out and she'd quietened down, did he speak.

And nearly gave her a heart attack it seems.

"Again, sorry. Just wanted to leave you to it. I know this room is important to ya."

Silver sat on the windowsill, the wolf cub stretching her paws up against her nape.

"S'fine."

He'd never heard her sound so quiet.

"D'you wanna talk-?"

Silver shook her head.

"No, no, that's fine. No worries. If you want me to sod off, feel free to toss me out the door. Preferably not the window though, if you don't mind, if I land in that rosebush I'm gonna be stick chatting to hedgehogs for a week, haha."

She didn't seem to react. It was almost as if he were talking to a doll. Or a living.

"Someone upset you?"

The young woman shrugged.

A yes, then. Right?

"I'm sure you could set Robin on them if you wanted-."

She looked at him, a hardened edge to her blue eyes, red raw from crying.

...Oh.

"Wait. 'Weren't Robin the one who upset you, was it?"

Another shrug. But this time she spoke, her voice croaky.

"He didn't say anything. He was running around with Julian, playing pranks on Mike, winding him up." She explained; "I found Kya in the kitchen. She was all alone. The others were all upstairs. Someone had just left her there...when I asked who saw her last, they all said Robin had put her there before going off with Julian..."

"Oh, I know that feeling."

Silver sniffled as Kya whimpered against her. She rocked her gently, turning to look out the window.

Out towards the woods. Her bed. Her room, or close as can be. All the way across the field.

"I found Robin and just...started screaming at him. How could he just leave her? She's just a baby. She's blind, she's helpless, she can't even crawl far on her own!" Silver cried; "He calls himself her dad but then just abandons her when there's something more fun to do..."

Humphrey didn't think that sounded entirely accurate. Robin had carried that cub in his furs for as long as he'd known him and rarely was she ever just dumped like people did to him.

"What did he say?" He prompted.

"That he only meant to leave her for a few minutes, he was gonna be running and jumping a lot and didn't want her being disturbed. I said he should have given her to Kitty or someone but apparently they'd been in the kitchen at the time and also left...so I ended up screaming at all of them."

"Right." That explains the earthquake earlier.

"....And then my chest became really tight and the room was spinning. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think. I knew it didn't make sense to get that upset but I just couldn't stop screaming. And they were all looking at me like....like..."

"Like a stranger?"

When she met his gaze, he knew he'd hit the nail on the head.

"How d'you know that?" She asked.

"You ain't the only one who's lost your temper."

"Really? You?"

"Going on five hundred years here! I know I might seem like Mr. Cool and Collected but I can be pushed to the limit as well." He stated.

At that, Silver got off the windowsill. Tucking Kya into her front pocket, she scooped Humphrey's head off the floor and placed him on the duvet before sitting crosslegged beside him.

"Oh, much better, thank you very much." The Tudor smiled; "It's not just Kya you were upset for, was it?"

The Pagan wiped her eyes.

"I never really noticed it much when Mary was here. But ever since..." She bit her lip, the wound still raw. Humphrey wished he could pat her hand; "I wake up and for me no time had past. A month ago was yesterday. But so much has happened. And usually I love listening to what I need to catch up on. But there's things I can't. Like when I notice Cap and Kitty have somehow gone from her hating how bossy he is to him suddenly acting like her dad. Or the secret jokes between Robin and Julian I'll never get. Or just...those little moments that make them all feel connected. Like a family."

"It makes you feel like an outsider looking in, hmm? I mean I live here and I get that."

Silver let out a half laugh, half cry.

"We need to start hanging out more."

"We do." He agreed; "Think it will do us both not to bottle things up have someone to talk to. Someone who gets it. And who, unlike one of us three here, can talk back. No offense, Kya."

The cub let out the tiniest mewl and Silver nearly smiled, holding her beneath her chin.

"Good to have someone who cares." She mumbled.

"Ey, come on. We all care about you, love. Especially Robin, he adores you."

"He's not here though, is he? He didn't come to check on me? Or Kya."

"Maybe he knew you wanted your space. I mean, you didn't exactly invite me in. He worries about you though. He told me himself."

"Why?"

"Well. When you go off hiding like this and when your mood seems to shift so quick but you don't tell us what's wrong. Not having a go, I'm just saying. He knows it ain't...normal. Your situation. The whole time perspective has to be a headache for you."

She didn't reply, just looked at her hands.

"You don't need to try to hide it behind a smile for us, Silver, darlin'. It's only gonna get worse that way. And Robin knows better than any of us, ghost brains can be as fragile as livings. I've had to talk him through some pretty dark moments of his."

"So you all think I'm a nutcase?" She scoffed.

"Not sure that's the PC term, but no. Just that...you run the risk of losing your grip on everything if you don't let people help. That fair?"

Silence. A long, thoughtful stare at the cub in her hands.

"Yes, Humphrey, that makes sense, you're so wise and handsome! And oh thank you Miss. Ravenstar-."

"Piss off." Silver snorted, nudging him over with a light push of her knuckles.

He let himself topple, just glad to get a smile out of her, reluctant as it was.

Again. Just like Sophie.

"....Okay. Fine. Sometimes I do feel like I'm losing it. Like I dunno where I am or rather when I am...I feel like the world is passing by without me and no one...No one really cares if I get left behind." A tear leaked from her eyes.

"Oh, sweetheart. I'm sorry. You always seemed like your dreams made you so happy."

"They do. But they're still just dreams. You guys...this...It's the only reality I've got. And most of the time it feels less a part of me than where I go to when I'm asleep. And sometimes when it gets so bad and I feel so left out that I go to sleep wishing...."

Humphrey blinked; "Wishing what?"

"...That I won't wake up the next month. Or the next. Or ever again."

Somewhere, wherever his stupid body was stumbling about, he imagined it was stumbling from that blow to his chest.

"You know we'd all be in bits if that happened, right?" Not Moving On. Just forever cursed to sleep in Purgatory.

She shrugged; "You'd get over it. You'd move on."

"Silver."

The teen got off the bed and wiped her eyes.

"I should go find Robin. I'm sure he feels bad enough by now and Kya wants her dad, for all his faults." She sounded so flat. Dejected.

"Silver, love, sit down-."

"Thanks for the talk. I'm glad someone else understands. Or...actually I'm not because it sucks that anyone should feel this way. But I'm glad I know I've got someone to talk to..."

Humphrey sighed; "Of course, sweetheart. Anytime. But please, wait-."

"If I see your body around, I'll lead it up here." She took a breath and plastered that cheery smile on her face before walking towards the door. "C'mon, Kya. Back to the show."

Humphrey watched the girl leave, cursing the God he'd stopped believing in for giving her such a cruel curse to live with in death.

#bbc ghosts fanfic #angst #silver ravenstar #bbc ghosts #humphrey bone #wolf kya #ghosts oc

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allthemusic · 1 year ago

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Week ending: 12th July

Well, we got to our first EP, the All Star Hit Parade (EP), credited to "Various artists". This is sufficiently vague that I can't seem to find a version of it, and in any case, I have no intention of covering EPs. My blog, them's the rules. Which still leaves us with...

I'm Walking Backward for Christmas - The Goons (double A-side, peaked at Number 4)

The Goons! I didn't actually know all that much about these guys, before listening to this, except that they were a 1950s British comedy troupe who did mostly radio comedy? They had a show called The Goon Show, and I know it heavily influenced Monty Python and just about every other act coming out of that same slightly daft/surreal British comedy tradition.

So yes, I'm expecting comedy here - which maybe explains the otherwise out of place title? We're about as far from Christmas as you can get, but I think you can get away with that if you're doing a comedy thing. This was a song that apparently was originally sung by Spike Milligan on the Goon Show during a writers' strike, and he's got a pretty legendary rep.

That said, I don't actually think I get this song? It starts with some very fast, chaotic big band jazz, but then cuts rapidly from that to a very nasal, annoying voice singing about how Across the Irish Sea, / I'm walking backwards for Christmas. Apparently sideways and forwards doesn't work, as people just look at me / And say it's a publicity stunt. Which... huh? I just don't fundamentally get what's funny or why that works as a joke, I don't think.

Anyway, we get a brief sketch of an Irish lad who falls in love with a girl, and he's apparently walking backwards across the sea for the sake of this girl? But again, I don't really followthe logic of the song. And my good will towards it - what little I had - is absolutely used up by the repeat of the first chorus bit, when the already nasal voice starts to sound a little bit like a buzzing fly, and gains a chorus of people making weird "ooooooh" groaning noises in the back. It's giving me a headache, just in time for the loud swing to return, and then some random piano thumping.

Yeah, I don't like this song much. I wanted to, but nope.

Bluebottle Blues - The Goons (double A-side, 4)

Oh boy. If I was irritated by the buzzing-fly sound on the last track, how much more so will I be annoyed here, on a track that is literally named for a type of fly?

Okay, there's a lot of speaking at the start of this, and I'm really not doing great at following the plot of it all. I don't know if people were just better at following radio conversations in the 1950s, or if I'm just personally bad at it, or if the recording quality that I'm listening to isn't helping, or if these were characters and voices people benefitted from knowing ahead of time? Because Bluebottle, it turns out, far from being a fly, is a recurring Goon Show character, a sort of irritating Boy Scout from East Finchley. Except I can't quite get a handle on what the joke is with him, except that he's irritating?

I know a lot of comedy is just "look at this irritating character", but this one really feels thin on the ground. He just gets tricked by the other unnamed character, which gives him the eponymous blues, except that basically is just him singing - in a not massively bluesy style - about how he doesn't like being the butt of various slapstick jokes and mischief. Which is not famously a genre of comedy that works in an audio format.

Yeah, I'm very irritated by this one too. The voices are minorly more palatable, but only minor, and I don't even manage to be charmed by the bit at the end where a man starts singing about walking backwards for Christmas, only to remark Oh no, that's the other side, isn't it? which is normally the sort of detail I'd eat up with a spoon. Grrrrr.

Okay, I am absolutely not going to name a favourite here. Not least beacuse it's so clearly a comedy record, and not a song. You can't sing along to this, half of it is spoken, and it relies heavily on you knowing the characters and context for the jokes. I wanted to enjoy this as a bit of silly fun, but it really didn't click. Sorry!

Least amusing song of the bunch: I'm Walking Backwards for Christmas

#uk charts #1956 #the goons

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pacificglovebox · 1 year ago

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Just gonna consolidate my answers here :3

I'm adding some Content Warnings in the tags and next to the specific responses so please be forewarned before you read ahead

Part One

History (Especially Ancient Roman and Gaelic)

Two Brothers one older and one younger (I'm the middle sibling)

Egg Noodles with Chicken served over mashed potatos with Green Peas and Carrots (family dish at every holiday)

CW: Surgery... I'm gonna change my answer from before... I forget about this sometimes because it still pulls me back in to the moment... but when I was like 17/18 I think my mom went in for brain surgery to relieve some symptoms of Chiari Malformation (tldr of it the brain is too big and enters through spinal canal and *can* create issues - techniclaly i have it too but even if im having symptoms thats for older me to deal with i cannot handle it now) on that morning mom was taken back to be prepped for surgery and I got a call from my older brother who couldn't join us at the hospital since he had just finished an overnight shift at work and he needed to hear how she was doing... I remember that hallway I was in as i talked on the phone with him, the sound of the elevators, and the worry in his voice and mine it was truly one of the hardest days for me so far... all we could do was hope and pray the surgery was a success (spoiler: it was and my Mom is doing better these days but still has lifelong medical issues that are being managed)

5 Foot 10 Inches (I think it's been a whole since I've measured)

Being a Friend to my friends, Writing Poetry, Reading, Watching Movies and TV, honestly I'm into most things

Part Two (electric boogaloo)

25 years old

I have loved friends & family and I think I've loved some people romantically

White Chocolate it makes my tummy less mad (I know it's just Coco Butter but I consider it chocolate)

Share me whatever you want :3 Part of loving friends to me is to enjoy what friends and besties are passionate about and it makes me love others more when they are authentically themselves

Part Five Three (do you like my Monty Python and the Holy Grail reference?)

Yes my parents are still together they've been together my whole life and I don't see them splitting up as both rely on eachother to help each other for medical assistance

I'll answer this from the point of view of what I would like my obituary to say if I died today (little somber but I think it best answers the question)... I want it to say I was a great friend to those who know me and that I loved everyone who knew me

I don't really view that many things as a disappointment, something about my point of view helps me see everything as a learning experience... if I had to say something it is that I might be that soon I plan to give up on working toward my professional license because it's too hard at the current moment... I am trying not to feel shame at leaning this direction but the world of professional accounting licensing is especially difficult for neurodivergent me and I want to let go of some stress in my life

I love both but if I were have one as a pet I probably would have a cat because they seem less work than a dog I LOVE dogs, but they seem like a bit too much work for me at the moment

CW: Gender Dysphoria... I think probably the worst thing to happen to me was before I knew I was transfem, my old Dr put me on Testosterone because mine "was too low"... I was barely 16 or so I didn't feel like I had a say so I got the injections weekly and I knew shortly after starting something felt wrong but even stopping didn't help my body felt wrong more than it ever had and I still miss my old hair it was so good fucking sweet and full before I started loosing it... honestly I have found some good in this experience, because without it maybe it would have taken me longer to recognize I was trans

Honestly just a text from a friend sharing something they love! Random texts from friends are always appreciated!

This will depend on what you would wanna do. I love going to the cinema to see movies, going to the local chill lgbt bar for a drink, going outdoors for a hike (in the spring through fall), and many other things. I also love just chilling and playing games or watching TV. I'm sure we would play some Guilty Gear: Strive at least!

Does anyone wanna speed run best friends any% with me?

#cw: surgery #cw: gender dysphoria

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lostjonscave · 6 years ago

Conversation

mag 123

melanie: hey what the fuck are you doing here i thought you literally died

jon: ...i got better

#tma spoilers #the magnus archives #tma #*monty python voice* i got better #he turned me into a NEWT

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saltyxtides · 2 years ago

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MONTGOMERY WARDEYN.

When Monty showed up for her Valentine’s Day visit for her brother she entered with a big over zealous and over dramatic hug for him. She set a ginormous basket of decandant candies and chocolates from all over the world down first. Then she smothered him.

“Happy Valentine’s Day brother of mine. Your Valentine has arrived. Aren’t you happy now? Cherish it now before you get stuck with mother all night. She’s already in the bathtub gin. Good luck with that.”

��I know I’m the best thing that ever happened to you and the highlight of your day. I’m the blessing of your life. You don’t even have to say it. I know you’ll never have a real girl out there for a Valentine but I got all prettied up, just for our dance. Don’t carry on how I’m better than another girl because I’ll never leave you like you always do, but it is true. I never will. Never, ever, EVER. Okay, I have a date after dropping you off with mom, but it’s for you too. She’s making me play shadow caddy. Ew. But, I love, uv you, wuv you.”

Then she’d back up and do a little spin for him so he could see her dress all in pale pink lace. It was something designer though the real Bayden rarely called these things out, just told her she looked so pretty.

“Now where is it? Before we dance. Show me what little drawing or confection you’ve whipped up for me this year. Is it a poem? A song? Gimme, gimme.” Then she plopped herself right into his lap like an ever so close space invading sister might. “What quaint little BayBay way have you chosen to honor me this year?”

( @montywonmom )

MONTGOMERY W a r d e y n buzzed around like she’d guzzled every drop of espresso. Her actions were downright condescending like a Katy Perry parody video. && they finally understood where Bayden’s arrogance stems from: that.

Dozen’s of times they had rehearsed Monty’s return in there head — the dramatic embrace, the exacting chosen gifts pattern last’s Christmas greetings. They’re own breath felt tight, as if the walls were pressing in being constricted by something as dangerous as a python hugging them back weakly.

“ Happy Valentine’s Day, little sister. ” A spin off of Montgomery’s own words used. Only they didn’t look happy about Monty’s statement about DR.W a r d e y n. The mama boy’s persona. It was easy to show how they truly felt on the inside. A fiery scowl that felt like it wasn’t going away anytime soon.

The more && more time they spent with Montgomery, in Bayden’s body the more his sister reminded them of Mother Gothel. Only it’s the sibling addition Instead of listening through it, Monty’s voice began to sound tiny && helium high-pitched, as far away as an echo.

If Bayden was meant to be controlled, that idjit would have come with a mother fucking remote. But guess what? He’s is own person. What did his own sister really know about him? It’s worse that his own sister didn’t even think about the concept of him ever falling in love.

Could be a thing someday! Anything was possible, but if it didn’t revolve around her, she wouldn’t notice. He is a qualified person. Not bothering to listen much after that, thus they lose more brain cells in the process. Not quite looking to happy && keeping there thoughts to themselves.

Only to be re-awakened into the moment when Monty sat on there lap. Who did she think they were? Jolly old St. Nicholas. Wasn’t she a little to old to be sitting on his brother’s lap like this. It was a high level of uncomfortable-ness, as she needed to leave room for the holy spirit.

Not that they even believed in the holy spirit! But damn girl give some space. “ It’s not much. “ Taking a small bundle of daffodils — wrapped in yarn to hold it together ( god forbid the string nurse would come back again knowing Bayden’s luck ). Freshly picked from the Asylum Grounds.

Pink lemonade rock candy. Though they couldn’t match Bayden's real skill of CHEF B o y b a y d e n style. This was still food-relative? Also re-using the cupcakes they made for them would have been safe, but let’s face it. The calories consumption of a cupcake ( 131+ c. ) vs. rock candy ( 15 - 50 c. ).

It would be a waste to give them to her if she would just throw them away in the end. Only now they had to try to finish things quickly between them. As they didn’t want to stay anymore longer than they should. “ Monty I’m not in the mood right now to stick around, fake a dance, so let’s JUST l e a v e.”

#montgomery wardeyn #montywonmom #━━ ✧ spilled ink. | interactions #━━ 🌊 saltyxtides. | ahv

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technetiumai · 3 years ago

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Hi all!

Thank you for the Six Sentence Sunday tags @bazzybelle, @captain-aralias, @cutestkilla, @bookish-bogwitch, and @ivelovedhimthroughworse. I was too wrapped up in other stuff to post anything, but I loved reading what everyone’s working on!

So, I have decided to start writing the Niamh-is-a-vigilante dystopian fic. My current WIPs are Atomic Son and Silence and Cries, and Silence and Cries is requiring a lot of research (which is mostly auxiliary and possibly unnecessary, but... my process is my process) which is making the process very slow going, and I’m struggling with the Atomic Son scenes that I’m working on, to the point where it’s just better to have something else to brain barf into while I’m ruminating on that. So, even though I don’t really like having so many WIPs, here we are. I felt like I needed another thing, and this is the thing, apparently.

It is pretty absurd so far (not in like a goofy Monty Python way, but in a wth is going on, this universe makes absolutely no sense, who thought of this way), and I’ve decided to roll with it. In the grand scheme of things I haven’t been writing for very long, and I’ve certainly never written anything like this. The only way to learn is just to do it.

There will be cliches and endlessly cringy dialogue. There will be bizarre set-pieces with no reasonable explanation. There will be forced attempts at explanations that don’t actually hold up to any scrutiny. It will be ridiculous, and that will be okay. (Can you tell I’m trying to talk myself up about this?)

CW: References to being in the middle of a suicide attempt.

“I came here thinkin’ no one else would be here.”

“Funny thing, that. I came here knowing it’s where people go to fall from tall heights to die quick deaths.”

“Is that why we come here?”

“Isn’t it?”

I let my body fall forward a bit, leaning out over the edge. “Perhaps there’s hope amongst the trees. Hope that can’t be found up here.”

“Can’t think what good hope would do you when your body’s turned to mush at the bottom of the forest.”

I finally look at him. He’s got bronze curly hair and kind eyes. He’s clearly a mitling, he’s not trying to hide it. If I couldn’t tell by his voice, I could tell by his clothes. The clothes of the upper-class, only a generation or so past. Patched up and loose fitting, but not filthy and put back together piecemeal like most of the clothes worn by my people.

“So, you make a habit of… interrupting people?”

“You could say that.”

“What’s the game? You try to convince me that life’s worth livin’?”

“Oh,” he chuckles, “‘no. Nothing like that. I didn’t come here to lie to you, or fill you up with ideas that even I don’t believe. I’d just like to propose,” he makes a gesture of ambivalence, “an alternate way of dying.”

“This way seems perfectly suitable for me, thank you, Mr.---”

He holds out his hand for me to shake. “Simon Snow.”

“Simon Snow.” I don’t lift my hand. “Is that fake?”

He lets out a good natured sigh and drops his hands. “‘Course it’s fake, Niamh. I’m asking you to become an assassin for a secret society plotting the downfall of the government.”

“So that's it, is it?”

He shrugs and bobs his head in affirmation.

“Fair enough, then. Though it hardly seems fair, seein’ as you know my name. “

“Of course I know your name. I’m asking you to become an assassin for a secret society plotting the downfall of the government.”

“Right.”

Not much so far, but it’s a start. It will be called “Night-Switch Paragons” and it will come out... eventually... and at whatever pace I can manage...

Tagging some of the people who said they’d be interested in this au when I posted about it before: @prettylightsbigcity, @aroace-genderfluid-sheep, @hairasuntouchedaspartoftheamazon

#WIP Wednesday #carry on

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chloelucia13 · 5 years ago

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To Dream

Pairing: Spencer Reid x reader

Prompt: After a case takes a turn for the worst, Spencer can’t help the doubt of your future riddling his brain. But when he closes his eyes, everything is okay. If only for a moment. Based off the song “Epiphany” by Taylor Swift

Warnings: angst, a little fluff, mentions of death, language, violence, gore, it’s just a ride y’all (italics are memories, words in bold are dreams)

Word count: 4.1k

A/N: So I’ve gotten sucked into the Criminal Minds fandom, and now it’s time to do what I do best: write sad fan fiction. I hope you all enjoy! My requests are open 24/7 and so is my taglist!

Tags: @sojournmichael

This wasn’t how it was supposed to go.

You’ve done this a million times. The case was so simple, so easy to dissect.

Maybe you got cocky. Maybe you underestimated the unsub. Maybe this was all your fault.

Nausea churned in your stomach as you screeched to a halt in front of the old auto body shop. You knew that you would find a house of horrors as soon as you stepped inside, but the adrenaline in your veins told you to ignore your hesitation and the breakfast from this morning that was crawling up your esophagus.

“I’m going in,” you announced, unbuckling your seatbelt and nearly throwing yourself out of the car.

“Y/N, wait, you need backup,” Spencer shouted after you as you hurried to the entrance.

You stopped in front of the building, turning to give him a look. “Spence, you heard his message.”

This man, this murderer, seemed to be infatuated with the media coverage of the case. You caught on to the fact that he was following along closely with the case after he sent a haunting letter to the precinct, detailing where he was and that he would give himself up to the police, as long as his legacy would not be forgotten.

Turns out, the media coverage wasn’t the only thing he was infatuated with.

It was realized at the beginning of researching this case that you fit his type to a t, but you never expected that it would become this.

His other request? That you were the only one to capture him and take him into custody.

Spencer opened his mouth to argue but you cut him off. “If anyone goes in there but me, it’ll be a bloodbath,” you reminded him.

He gulped, weighing his options for a moment. “Fine. The rest of the team is on the way. As soon as you’ve got him, radio to me and we’ll send everyone in,” he instructed, worry marring his features.

“Everything’s gonna be fine. I promise, doc.” You gave him a gentle smile before turning on your heel and entering the building, your gun drawn.

The smell of coagulated blood and decomposition hit your nostrils the moment you stepped inside, making your stomach lurch. You bit down on your cheek so harshly the taste of copper tinged your tongue.

“Randy McAllister, this is the FBI,” you announced your presence, edging around the corner into the main part of the garage.

“Ah, Agent Y/L/N, I thought you’d never make it,” a voice hummed to the right of you.You turned your head to see him standing with a gun in his right hand, a woman on her knees in front of him.

“Let her go, Randy. She’s got nothing to do with this.”

He chuckled. “Oh darling, she has everything to do with this. She’s my replacement for you, can’t you tell?” He glided the tip of his gun against her forehead, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

“Then give me her, and you can get what you want.”

“You really thought I was gonna be that easy?” He clicked his tongue. “Take off your vest.”

You scoffed. “I’m not taking off my vest.”

he clenched his jaw, hovering his finger over the trigger. “Take off your vest or I’ll blow her fucking brains out!”

You knew not to question him. He’d done it five times already, so what’s stopping him from doing it again.

You slowly slid your gun into your holster before ripping the velcro apart, pulling your kevlar vest off and setting it on the ground. “There, are you happy?”

He grinned, baring his teeth like a rabid dog, before pushing the girl forward. You bent down and helped her up before directing her to run, waiting until you could no longer hear her footsteps before you drew your gun once more.

“Alright, Randy. I did what you wanted. Now drop your weapon and put your hands above your head.”

His grin slowly fell, letting his gun clatter to the ground before he rose his hands in the air, surrendering.

You stepped behind him, yanking his hands behind his back and holding them together with one hand while you searched for your cuffs with the other.

Everything moved so suddenly.

A sharp crack echoed through the garage as he slammed his head back into yours, shattering the cartilage in your nose. You stumbled back, clutching onto your nose as you tried to regain your balance.

He grabbed you by your shirt and threw you to the ground, climbing on top of you and wrapping a hand around your throat. You clawed at his hand and kicked with all your might, finally landing one solid blow to his groin.

He swayed, and you gathered enough strength to roll him over, pinning him to the ground.

But you didn’t account for his hands.

As you held his shoulders against the concrete, a shot rang out.

Your abdomen felt warm as the rest of your body felt as if it was stuck in a freezer. Slowly, you rolled off of Randy and laid on your back, staring up at the ceiling.

Voices began to echo around you, a muffled sound that mimicked the effect of your head being held underwater. “Agent down, we need a medic!”

Your eyelids fluttered open and closed at a snail-like pace, eyes flickering around the room to try and figure out what was going on.

And then they shot open wide as the burning sensation began, a feeling as if your organs were being shredded apart with red hot knives.

“Y/N, what happened?”

Your eyes finally focused on Spencer’s face hovering above you, tears in his eyes. “Tis just a flesh wound,” you whispered, your lungs burning.

He glanced between you and the bullet wound in your chest. “Are you quoting Monty Python right now?”

You let out a chuckle, feeling tears begin to sting your eyes. “It’s what I do when I’m panicking. You should know that by now.” Slowly, you reached your hand down to where you felt the pain resonate, eyes growing wide when you felt something wet soak your hand. “Oh my god.”

Tears began streaking down his face, his lip caught in-between his teeth to keep from crying out.

Without thinking, you reached your hands up to wipe away his tears, a look of terror residing on your face when a dark crimson smeared across his cheeks. “Oh god,” you gasped out, moving to pull your sleeves over your hands and try to wipe away the blood.��“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” The blood smeared around his cheek, and you felt the room spinning around you.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. Just breathe for me. Calm down.”

You nodded, desperately trying to gasp in a solid breath, but to no avail. A sob left your lips, and you felt a rush of blood pour down your sides. “I-I can’t.” You shook your head. “I think... I think I’m bleeding out, doc.”

“No, no, don’t say that. You’re gonna be just fine.” He pulled away from your gaze for a moment to search around. “Where the fuck is the medic?!”

“Spence.”

His eyes fell back onto your face, hazel irises boring into yours as tears dripped down his face. You dedicated his face to memory, trying to remember the way his skin felt under your fingertips, the gentle scratch of his stubble, the way his hair would glide between your fingertips, worried that it you would never be able to experience it again.

“I love you,” you choked out, sniffling. “I love you so much.”

He nodded, a crease forming between his brows as he tried his hardest to contain his sobs. “I love you too. So much.”

He felt as if he died when he watched your eyelids slowly flutter closed, and then stopped moving altogether. He continued applying pressure to your wound, feeling your blood soak through his windbreaker and onto his hands.

Suddenly he was shoved away, and he watched in a daze as a group of medics quickly checked your vitals before lifting you on a stretcher and rushing you out of the building. He pushed himself to his feet and stumbled behind them, clambering into the back of the ambulance.

They attached an oxygen mask with a bag valve, attempting to pump oxygen into your lungs. He watched as your chest rose and fell, wishing it wasn’t being controlled by someone else.

The tips of your hair twirled between his fingers, a dazed look on his face as his eyes tracked each breath you took. Breathe in, gentle rise. Breathe out, gentle droop. He felt the soft rush of air against his skin, making his heart race under your cheek.

He didn’t dare move, too worried that if he did, you would wake up. It was rare that he would see you in such a peaceful state, so fragile and unguarded. He wouldn’t dare ruin it. He never knew when it would be the last time he could witness it.

“Her vitals are crashing, she’s going into V FIB!” an EMT shouted, startling him back to the present. “Bring me the AED.” He watched as they applied two wired pads to your chest and turned up a dial, signaling before delivering an electric shock. Your body flinched from the shock, only for it to collapse back down and lay flat.

He felt like he was going to vomit. His hands were clutching onto your free one, unable to tear his eyes away from your ashen face.

He couldn’t decide if it would be better if you were in a black void, unaware of anything that was going on, or if you could feel and hear every single thing that was occurring. He mostly just hoped that you weren’t scared.

But the only thought on his mind, when they finally arrived to the ER and he watched you get rushed into the OR, was that he couldn’t live without you.

*** “Spence, you can head home. I’ll take over,” Emily instructed as she stepped into the waiting room, nudging his shoulder slightly.

He just shook his head, staring at the glass windows in front of him that peered into the hallways of the hospital.

“You need to get some rest,” she persisted, sitting down next to him. “Just go lay down for a few hours, I’ll call you if anything happens.”

“I-I can’t just leave. If something happens...” Spencer mumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. He couldn’t tell if he was being defensive, or if he was trying to desperately hold himself together.

“She’s gonna be just fine. She’s a fighter.”

He let out a shuddering breath, his eyes falling closed for a moment. “The survival rate after going into V FIB is 50%.”

“Well, 50% seems like a pretty good probability to me.”

“That doesn’t account for the blood loss or oxygen deprivation. She lost over four pints of blood. The body goes into hypovolemic after losing only two pints. Any more than that, and the body will most likely fall into a coma.”

Now he understood how everyone else felt when he spewed out facts. It was torturous, unwilling to allow him to slip away from the predicament for even a moment.

The image of your body bleeding out on the dirty floor was imprinted in his mind. Even if he didn’t have an eidetic memory, there was no way that he could ever forget it.

Emily pursed her lips. “But she’ll be alive. She might be banged up, but she isn’t gone. She’s not going anywhere anytime soon.” She squeezed his shoulder. “You know, if Y/N were here right now, she’d be yelling at you to go and take a nap.”

He let out a watery chuckle at that, sniffling slightly. “I can’t leave, Emily. Not until I hear something from the doctors.”

She sighed. “Fine. I’m gonna set a timer on my phone for 20 minutes, and you will sleep until that timer goes off. If you get up any time during that, I’m restarting the timer. Deal?”

“Emily-”

“Spencer, you know better than anybody the effects of sleep deprivation on a person. You’re not going to be any use here if you’re tired.”

He clenched his jaw, already feeling his eyelids begin to droop. “Fine. But only 20 minutes.”

***

He never thought that golden could be a feeling, until he met you. His whole being, his whole soul felt as if it was dripping with the warm yellow hue.

He may have felt golden, but you were golden. You were the sun to him, something that he treasured with his whole being but worried he would be blinded by your beauty, turned into mush from your warmth. He still risked it, staring at you for so long so he could memorize every aspect of you before his sight left him.

Your scent of sunshine and sweet morning dew lingered on everything he owned, and he was addicted to it. He could smell it now, swooning over it.

“Your hair’s getting shaggy, doc.”

Spencer hummed, fluttering his eyes open and seeing that his head was laying in your lap, the two of you perched underneath a tree in the park down the road from your shared apartment.

“Yeah? You want me to cut it?” he teased, shifting slightly to look up at you.

You grinned, ruffling his hair slightly before leaning down and pressing a kiss to the crown of his head. “Never.”

His eyes flickered over your face, taking in every small detail. “You’re so beautiful.”

You scoffed, gently gliding your finger along his jawline. “I can say the same for you, pretty boy.”

“I’m serious.” He huffed, sitting up and taking your hand in his, staring directly into your eyes for a moment. He mimicked your ministrations, taking his finger and tracing along your collarbone, against the angle of your jawbone, down the slope of your nose, and down the dip of your cupid’s bow. His eyes followed his finger, a small wrinkle forming between his brows. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

A grin settled on your face, gently pulling his fingers from your skin and pressing your lips to his fingertips. “What’s got you being so sappy?”

He let out a chuckle, shaking his head slightly before touching his lips to yours. “I’m so in love with you.”

A pleased sigh escaped your lips, and your eyes searched his. “I’m so in love with you too. Now will you please tell me what’s going on?” You shifted into his lap, entwining your arms around his neck and playing with his hair.

“I...” He gulped, his eyes squeezing shut for a moment. “I don’t want you to leave me.”

“Spencer.” The corners of your lips crooked into a frown and you rested a hand on his cheek. “What makes you think I’ll ever leave you?”

“Y/N, you’re dying.”

“What do you mean? I’m right here. And I know you’re not a medical doctor, but I know you’re smart enough to know when someone is alive.”

He shook his head, sniffling. “No, you-you’re laying on an operating table right now. This isn’t real. None of this is real.”

“It’s real enough, isn’t it?”

He shot up with a gasp, immediately burying his head in his hands and letting out a shuddering breath.

“Spence, that was only eleven min-” Emily began.

He ignored her, pushing himself to his feet and propelling himself towards the bathrooms. He stumbled into the bathroom and gripped onto the edge of the sink, sucking in deep breaths until his lungs burned. Bile rose in his throat and he willed himself to keep it down, gaining enough strength to turn on the cold water and splash his face.

A hand touched his shoulder and he stood up straight in a panic. “Calm down, man, it’s just me,” Derek consoled, holding his hands up. “Are you okay?”

Spencer shook his head fervently, running his hands over his face before pulling them through his hair. “I can’t lose her.”

Derek reached forward, grabbing Spencer’s shoulder and tugging him into a tight hug. ‘’You’re not gonna lose her. She’s strong, and she’s stubborn as all hell. If she’s gonna die, it’s gonna be by her own terms.”

And Spencer sobbed.

***

It had been over four hours, and the entire team still had yet to hear anything from the doctors. The sun had already set, and almost everyone had headed home for the night.

But Spencer was still sat in the waiting room, eyelids drooping lower and lower with each passing moment of silence.

He wanted so badly to sleep, to go back to that peaceful moment in his mind where he could lay with you and forget anything bad ever happened, but he couldn’t let himself. He couldn’t let himself succumb to a fantasy when in reality, you were laying on an operating table with multiple surgeons working to keep you alive.

“Mr. Reid?”

Spencer rose to his feet at once, all feelings of exhaustion fleeing his body and being replaced with pure adrenaline. “Yes?”

The doctor gave him a curt nod before directing him into the hall. Spencer followed behind him and stood in a nervous silence as he watched her flip through a clipboard.

“She’s alive, and she’s in stable condition,” she explained, looking away from her clipboard.

He felt as if he was floating, a high he never even imagined was possible.

“But she is in a coma, and probably will remain that way for the next few days.”

And there it was.

“But-But you think she’ll wake up?” Spencer rushed out, shifting from foot to foot.

“Definitely. Her body needs time to rest, but she’ll wake up as soon as she’s ready.”

Spencer let out a sigh of relief, a small smile residing on his lips. “Thank you, doctor.”

“You’re a lucky man. We almost lost her, but she fought with all she had. She wanted to stay here.”

He knew that her claims were impossible, but there was an inkling in the back of his mind that maybe she was right. So, instead of responding, he just nodded. “Can-” He cleared his throat. “Can I see her?”

The doctor pressed her lips together in thought for a moment before nodding. “Right this way.”

He followed her through the hospital halls, leading him through the winding maze until they stopped in front of room 112. She gestured to the door before retreating, leaving him alone.

All attempts to catch his breath were futile for the moment he stepped through the door, all the air left his lungs. He couldn’t tell if he was staring at your sleeping form in horror or fondness as he inched towards your bedside, settling into the chair next to you.

“You’re alive,” were the only words he could formulate, repeating them like a mantra while he took your hand in his and pressed feather-light kisses to your knuckles.

Finally, he let his head rest against the thin blanket on your bed, and his eyes drooped closed.

Poppies were your favorite flower. They symbolized peace, something neither of you were familiar with due to your jobs.

Spencer never understood how a flower could symbolize something so complex until he opened his eyes.

He was completely, utterly at peace.

You stood in a field of bright red poppies, a white dress cascading around your frame and a megawatt smile on your face.

Sunshine. Golden.

As if out of a scene from a romance movie (one that you probably forced him to watch), he ran through the fields, coming towards you. Once you were within reach, he wrapped both of his arms around your waist and clung onto you like a vice.

A breathless laugh fell from your lips as you returned the hug, letting your arms hook around his neck. “Hi, my love,” you whispered.

He knew none of this was real. He knew that every memory of you was being pulled from his brain all at once and letting him feel a moment of peace.

But he also knew that he wanted to stay here, at least for a little while.

“Hi, my love,” he echoed, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

“Are you alright?” You pulled away slightly, searching his eyes as you brought one hand to cup his face. “You’re crying.”

“I’m just fine.” He gave you a smile, gently taking your hand from his face and placing your hand in his own. “I’m perfect.”

“Are you sure? Did I do-”

“Y/N,” he interrupted, squeezing your hand gently. “Everything’s fine. Don’t worry.”

You took a deep breath and nodded, letting your shoulders drop. “Sorry, I just... I know you’ve been feeling sad lately. I just want to make sure it isn’t because of me.”

His brows furrowed together, worry lines settling on his forehead. “Of course not. Why would you think that?”

“Because every time you look at me, you cry.”

Those words made his heart drop to his stomach. He knew that this was all in his mind, but it was still your voice. He felt all the hurt, all the guilt.

“I...” A small sob bubbled in his throat, and he pulled you back into his tight embrace. “I just don’t want to lose you. I’m not ready yet.”

You nodded, gripping onto the fabric of his shirt and holding him as close as you possibly could. “Well, right now, you have me. Is that not enough?”

“But it’s not real. I need the real you.”

“Then you have to wake up, my love.”

Wake up. Wake up. Wake up

“Spencer, wake up.”

His eyes flew open, a hand immediately coming up to rub at them. “What?” he grumbled, holding back a yawn.

“God, I’ve tried waking you up for the past five minutes.”

His eyes flickered up to see a pair of Y/E/C eyes staring back at him.

“You’re awake.”

“I can say the same thing about you, sleepyhead,” you teased, weakly patting his hand.

“Oh my god. You’re okay.” He pushed himself to his feet and hovered his hands over your face, fearful that if he touched you, you would disappear.

“I’m okay, doc.” Your words were slurred, but that was expected. He still knew what you were saying, and even if he didn’t, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that you were awake, that you were alive.

He let out an incredulous laugh as he bent down and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. “I thought I lost you.”

“You can’t get rid of me that easily.” You hands slowly reached up, letting your fingers graze along his cheek. “Hi, my love.”

“Hi, my love.” He grinned at you. “I thought you weren’t supposed to be awake for a few more days, at least.”

“I guess I just had to wake up. I couldn’t stand being gone from you that long.” You pulled your lower lip between your teeth. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“I-If I wasn’t so cocky, none of this would have happened. You all wouldn’t be wondering whether I’m gonna live or not. I wouldn’t be stuck in a hospital bed with a hole in my chest. You... You wouldn’t be crying.” You gestured to the tears on his cheeks as tears began to stream down your own. “I wouldn’t be crying.”

“Y/N,” he sighed, taking your hand in his and pressing his lips to the back of it. “None of this is your fault. Don’t you ever blame yourself for this.”

You nodded with a sniffle, pulling his hand to your lips and reciprocating his actions. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

The two of you sat in a comfortable silence for a moment, letting yourselves take in everything that was happening.

“Once you get released from the hospital and you’re healed, do you want to get married?”

Your eyes widened in shock at his words, searching his face to make sure that he was being honest. “Are you proposing?”

He shrugged, feeling his cheeks begin to burn. “I-I mean I don’t have a ring yet but... I think I am.”

“Well, if you think you’re proposing, I think I’ll say yes.”

Both of your cheeks ached from how wide you were smiling, that smile never faltering when he pressed his lips to yours and let them linger.

“Can we have poppies at our wedding?” you mumbled against his lips.

He chuckled, nodding.

Pure sunshine.

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