#personally I would like it to go more the''maybe Christine is a normal car and Arnie is just acting up'' route | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

witchoflegends · 3 years

Text

Going back and rewatching Strange’s episode of What If... just so that I can talk about palmerstrange. So below is all my thoughts and feelings about everything palmerstrange related in the episode. So spoilers under the cut. It did get long, so fair warning. Since I touch on practically every palmerstrange moment in the episode.

I love that all Stephen had to do to get Christine to come to his speaking engagement was to promise her crème brulee. Then he’s got that sly comment about how he thinks they can do better than that. I love it.

The way Christine wants to hear Stephen’s speech before anyone else does. How she wants him to just go at it in a way that she knows he normally would. Just for the fun of it. And the way he actually considers it. Even telling her in one of the loops that he will go full out and run up to the podium like a reality tv show contestant. Even if he doesn’t know what that exactly entails. He’ll do anything for Christine. As long as it makes her happy, and as long as she is by his side.

Oh, then there’s Christine saying he’s done something remarkable, and Stephen’s immediate response is, “I would say the same about you.” That just makes me squeal. Cause he sees her as remarkable, and anytime she compliments him, he’s turning it back on her. She’s all he can think about when she’s around.

Also, all the times we saw Stephen compliment Christine in that dress of hers? How he pushed aside her own compliment of him to tell her how stunning she looked. Even though he was wearing an Armani suit. All he cared about was how pretty she looked. How the next time he sees her after he starts trying to get her back, his heart flutters. Then says he might have had a mild cardiac event upon seeing her. So cute. Ugh, and then he tells her that he’ll give her the world.

As well as how in the first car drive, Stephen says “We’re okay. You’re okay” after the oncoming car scare. And he puts his hand on her shoulder to comfort her in that moment. He was so concerned about her. His main concern was her. It’s always been her, and I cry. Which is what makes it even more heartbreaking the next moment when they actually do crash.

“In this universe, Stephen Strange didn’t loose his hands, but his heart.” The fact that Christine is seen as his heart just kills me. Also, Stephen’s face and posture at her funeral. He is absolutely broken and you can’t tell me otherwise.

Okay, but can we talk about the scene where Christine is wearing Stephen’s shirt. Her laugh and saying that the shirt of his that she’s wearing is now her favorite. How happy and playful Stephen sounds when he reaches out to her and says he’s going to have to take it back. Only for her to respond equally as playful. Yes please. I love that soft little moment. They’re so cute together.

THE HAND HOLDING DURING THE SECOND CAR RIDE!

“You’re being delightful. I must owe a muffin basket for this personality shift.” “Maybe you make me happy.” Ugh. Of course she makes you happy, Stephen. How could she not?

All the different options that Stephen when through to save her. Even so far as to try and separate himself from her and stand her up. Only for her to die when he wasn’t there. Then there’s the death where she dies in the middle of them dancing. Absolutely heartbreaking. All of it.

Also, there’s the fact that when Stephen tried to convince Christine that they should stay in, she was focused on him. He was supposed to be getting an award, and she wanted to make sure he was recognized for it. That he was happy, and getting what he deserved. She cares about him just as much as he cares about her.

How happy he gets just being around her, and the little smile he gets on his face anytime she’s even remotely happy. Then there’s how broken and tired he looks at the bar after he stood her up. I have so many emotions about this episode.

“Aren’t we allowed to be happy?” Apparently not, Stephen. Apparently not.

Stephen’s almost defeated, “I only want you. You’re the only thing that matters,” when Christine is asking if he’s okay, and if he wanted to talk. As well as the way he remembers her right before he cries out to the heavens in agony.

Stephen Strange is so stubborn. Especially when he can’t get what he wants, and all he wants is Christine. So he’ll do anything to get her back, and I think that’s the most heartbreaking thing of all. As well as the fact that the “normal” him saw that he couldn’t/wasn’t able to save Christine and how devastating it must have been to come to that realization.

“Is she worth the pain?” “Every moment of it.” Ugh. I can’t. If only you would listen to the people giving you warnings after warnings, Strange. But you were already too far gone the moment you decided to try and bring Christine back. Such devotion.

It must have broken “normal” Stephen’s heart not to try and save Christine, but to try to keep her dead. Cause he immediately knew the moment that the Ancient One was talking about when she was explaining what evil Strange was planning to do. He had thought about it just as much as evil Strange. Yet he was never able to go through with putting the timeline in danger. So he allowed himself to be broken hearted for the sake of his reality. Also, how the Ancient one had to remind normal Stephen that he couldn’t save Christine. Cause I feel like he regularly needs reminders.

“But do you want to stop him? Weren’t you in love with this Christine?” “I think I have to.” Like I said, him choosing the fate of his reality over his own heartbreak and pain. That is the Stephen that Christine loved. The one that cares about people and is able to put their needs above his own selfish wants.

Then there’s the whole fight between the Stephens and evil Stephen trying to convince normal Stephen to save Christine. Two versions of the same man that loved the same woman. One driven practically to madness trying to bring her back, and the other trying to move on and stop him. Christine would have wanted Stephen to move on.

“They wouldn’t understand. They never knew her. We knew her. We loved her.” As he was the only one that ever loved her. Meanwhile, he things normal Stephen is lying to him when he says the world is breaking. Just because he refuses to see the truth, and the truth would cause him and his emotions to come crashing down.

Evil Stephen basically calling normal Stephen a coward because he hadn’t tried going back. Hadn’t spent centuries sacrificing everything for Christine. Ugh. I love the devotion of a villain.

My heart breaks at normal Stephen’s “and now can you save her?” cause I can tell a part of him was hopeful that he could. Hopeful that maybe they could have everything they wanted, but then he realized that wasn’t the case when evil Stephen grabbed him.

Honestly, normal Stephen is the Stephen that Christine would love. In my opinion anyway. Evil Stephen saying yet again that the Ancient One doesn’t understand and they love her. Then normal Stephen saying that what he’s doing isn’t love. It’s something that I think Christine would absolutely say. Choosing the greater good over any one person. Over herself.

Oh, and don’t even get me started on the illusion that evil Strange makes normal Strange see. Christine wearing his shirt. Her telling him she loves him, and his smile as her hand covers his cheek and his hand covers hers. How they can be together again, and he honestly looks so content and relaxed in that moment. God how he missed her. I was so hoping to hear him say that he loved her back before he started coming to his senses.

Then there’s evil Stephen succeeding. Getting Christine back, but she’s terrified of the monster he is, and what’s happening around them. The world crumbling and falling apart until it’s only Stephen and Christine left. Him desperately trying to stop the world falling apart. Only for her to die in his arms anyway. Leaving him trapped in his own prison. It’s so heartbreaking, and I don’t think I’ll ever fully recover.

That’s it. That’s my palmerstrange rant brought to you by What If...

#palmerstrange #otp: palmerstrange #what if spoilers

39 notes · View notes

salty-ironstrange-shipper · 3 years

Text

First Line Meme

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all!). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line. Then tag your favorite authors!

tagged by the lovely @ironstrange-is-the-endgame (❤️❤️❤️) tagging: @funkylittlebidiot, @stark-strange-love2, and anyone else who wants to

"Stephen stumbled into Kamar-Taj, only narrowly avoiding breaking his skull on the floor by an apprentice sorcerer lurching forward and taking his arm.” (Don’t Lift The Veil)

“Tony wasn't really tired, even after a night of repairs on the briefcase suit, but his chest was aching from the arc reactor and the palladium and his eyes were blurring, so he decided to turn in anyway. He expected to find Stephen already asleep, or maybe reading if he'd stayed up for him. The reality was so much better.“ (Celebration)

“Stephen set the small human down in the cave, carefully uncurling his claws.“ (Who Would Ever Dare To Love A Dragon?)

“Steve had no idea what was going on.“ (Alone/Together)

“Christine crossed her legs, then uncrossed them. The carriage was moving along steadily, a team of four fine horses trotting energetically. Across from her, Stephen was reading one of his medical books by the light of an open window.“ (Of All The Stars Most Beautiful)

“She was there when he woke up, sitting just beyond the containment field with a phone in hand as she texted Yaz's mum (Najia was an excellent texter).” (Stay A Thousand Years)

““So how do you want to do this?” Tony asked, bouncing back and forth on his heels for a lack of something else to do. “Do you want me to prep you first, or—”“ (How Can I Repay You?)

“Tony dipped his razor into the cool stream of water, shaking it off. "Doc, you wanna hurry up? There's an Avengers meeting we have to be at in twenty minutes, and you're usually the one telling me to get ready. Are we in the Upside Down?"“ (So what if we grow old together?)

“Tony smiled fondly at his mate, flying through the sky on grand scarlet wings, saltwater spraying through the air.” (The Dragon Prince)

“"I can too be seductive!" Christine had no idea how she'd ended up in this argument. She only knew that Stephen, for all that they were best friends, had a way of pushing her buttons. Normally she was happy that he was on her side — his ability to pinpoint the exact way to rip a person's self-esteem to shreds in under a minute was both impressive and terrifying — now she was blushing and wanting to tear his perfect hair out.” (Seduce Me)

““We should leave soon," Sherlock said abruptly, typing on his (John's) laptop and not bothering to look up. "We have a plane to catch.” John stopped, lowering his newspaper to look at his flatmate. “What? Where?” “California.”” (A Strange Wedding)

“They did not talk about what happened at the wedding. As soon as they touched down in London, Lestrade had them on the phone. Then Moriarty happened, and the fall, and . . . that was that.“ (A Strange Love)

“The Sanctum Sanctorum was fucking creepy.“ (Welcome Home)

“Stephen spent the car ride to the hotel happily seated in Tony's lap, grinding down while Tony ran his hands up and down Stephen’s back. One of his hands held Tony’s jaw, pulling him in for kiss after kiss as his tongue curled in Tony’s mouth. Stephen nipped at his neck, murmuring, “God, I want to fuck you.”“ (Beg)

“Tony woke up hungover.” (Begin Again)

“Ned leaned back in his chair, holding pointing his pen at Peter like an intellectual. “Tell them your plan.”“ (From the Top: Phase Two)

“Stephen Strange woke up in a great mood. His friend, Mordo, lay in his bed as Stephen woke early and showered, singing “Bohemian Rhapsody” at the top of his lungs as he did. After he summoned his clothes, he made his coffee with far more espresso than was medically recommended, messed around with the Eye of Agamotto before being told off by the Ancient One (again), and was in the middle of training a group of novices when the Ancient One summoned him and Mordo to her quarters.” (Synergy)

“You do that thing with your tongue when you’re curious or excited.” (being known is being loved)

“It started as an accident. Or at the very least something he hadn’t intended to repeat.” (I Wanna Hold Your Hand)

“Charles woke with sweat on his face. This was quickly becoming the usual state of affairs. Genosha was almost directly on top of the equator, and no one could question the fact. The island was hot, and more humid than England or even New York in the summer. Every night for the past week, he fell asleep with his blanket half over his legs and by the time he woke, it had been pushed to the edge of the bed. Even so, sweat beaded on his face and neck, patiently waiting to be wiped away.” (A Treatise on Evolution and Extinction)

I think, if I had to determine a pattern, I (like @ironstrange-is-the-endgame) tend to go for in media res, or else I start with faux-artistic description. I dig it.

#incorrect-ironstrange #my writing #fanfiction #tag game #ironstrange #mcu #cherik #pristine #gamquick #johnlock #thoschei #doctor who #marvel #xmen #sherlock bbc

36 notes · View notes

incidentreport31 · 3 years

Text

Episode One: In the Middle of the Street TRANSCRIPT

[You can listen to the show wherever you get your podcasts.]

[Intro music players.]

ANNOUNCER:

Three-Eyed Frog Presents: Incident Report Number 31.

[Theme song fades to a stop.]

[click recorder on]

ARCHIVIST:

Test. Test. One, two, three. (mutters) Bloody hell, why does it smell like something died in here? Well, guess we can’t prove something didn’t, eh? The recorder seems to be working, at least.

My name is Val West. I’m the newly appointed head archivist at The [REDACTED] Institute, which documents people’s possible experiences with the supernatural for both emotional support purposes and to get recovery time off of work, school, et cetera if the trauma is deemed severe enough by their employers or other supervisory staff.[beat as they scoff] Supernatural doctor’s note, innit...

The Head of the Institute, Mr. Neil Banks, has asked me to record these accounts because, well, there actually isn’t really a good reason. [mutters] Didn’t spend eight years getting a masters in library sciences to read stories into a dusty tape recorder, but, we all have to get by.

I do, at least, have people to assist me: two researchers: Zach Zamuel-Imogen Baker, and Christine Lewis, along with, I’m told, a very well-respected psychologist: one [hesitant] Dr. Oliver Possum, who will be advising me on any cases where there is necessary psychological follow up. I haven’t actually met any of them yet, but hopefully they will be helpful.

I was also explicitly told not to look behind the bookshelf to my left, so I will be looking behind the bookshelf later today...right. Guess I should get started, then.

[Sound of papers tapped on desk to organize them]

ARCHIVIST:

[They clear their throat.] For the consideration of Ortolan Bunting Law Firm: Ayla Stephenson’s encounter with a house that did not exist and her subsequent request for thirty hours of paid time off. No date given. Fine by me. Not gonna lose sleep over improperly filled out paperwork. Well. Start? I suppose? Yes.

[ACCOUNT.]

I feel the need to start with this, so you fully understand what I’m trying to say. I have a feeling you’ll just dismiss my story otherwise. I’ve lived here going on ten years now. Moved here on the promise of a job from the same company that I still work for today: Ortolan Bunting Law Firm. I drive the same route to work every day. I mean, I looked up the quickest way on the map when I first moved to town, and hey, who am I to question that? If it works it works. No need to make something difficult when the map’ll just figure it for you that first day, right?

I guess I’m getting a bit off topic here, but my point is that I’ve been going the same way for a decade, which is to say that I know the route to and from work like the back of my hand. Sure, maybe I don’t pay attention to every detail every day, I mean after ten years, the drive is almost an unconscious thing-

ARCHIVIST:

(mutters) Not a great way to build up your story’s credibility but, I digress.

[ACCOUNT.]

-but I still know all the road’s quirks, even if they don’t stick out to me after all this time. I know that the first left turn light on the way lasts for about two seconds and if you’re more than two cars behind in line, you’ll have to wait a whole cycle to go. I know there’s a business center that, god knows why, has their logo done in comic sans just off to the right before I merge onto the highway. Once I’m on that freeway for about fifteen minutes, I can see this drive through coffee place on one of the adjacent streets. Every single morning the line’s backed up out to the street- you’d think there’d be a better way to do that, but that’s more of a personal gripe and certainly not the point. On my way back from work, I take a few side streets to avoid rush hour traffic on the main road- just the way the map recommended on my first day, of course, I’m not looking to get lost in the backroads. There’s a few old houses, sometimes I see elderly couples sitting out on their porches. Sometimes they wave and I do have the decency to wave back, though some of my colleagues might not believe you… I’m afraid I’ve been a bit put off by this whole experience and have been taking it out on some of my coworkers. All the more reason to give me the [THE ARCHIVIST sighs this last part out as they are once again pulled out of the story] time off that I so kindly requested.

ARCHIVIST:

That last line is crossed out. It appears that Ms. Stephenson was reluctant for her Firm to read that bit if this ever got back around to them. To be honest, the way that this is going, I’m not so sure that plea would have done anything for her, but I am, of course, to remain the impartial academic in my work here, so I suppose I’ll allow the defacing of Institute paperwork just this once, even if the scribbles are rather unprofessional.

[ACCOUNT.]

There're a few empty lots there too. I think at one point, the city wanted to buy them up and make a park, but I don’t think they ever got around to it. Really don’t think they will now. I’m getting ahead of myself. I guess what I’m trying to say is, I’ve been going the same way day in and day out for ten years… I’d notice if something was different.

ARCHIVIST:

I’m assuming… that is the point of this report yes? [beat] Continuing on.

[ACCOUNT.]

Nothing that day was really any different, I’d say. Just drove to work, hit all the usual landmarks: waiting to turn at the light, glancing at the comic sans sign, thinking that that coffee shop is definitely obstructing traffic, the usual. Went to work, got through the day with… minor amounts of stress… I mean it’s legal work, it isn’t fun, but somebody’s gotta do it. Got off right at five, gathered up my things and left. I took my usual streets, not really minding anything, but I noticed no one was out on the porches. That’s not unusual, I know, people can be inconsistent, it’s not a big deal, but looking back? Maybe they knew something was off… I mean if I’d lived in that neighborhood I certainly would have.

[Eerie music begins playing.]

I always drive with the radio on, can’t stand being alone with my thoughts on a busy street where road rage can make its way into my thoughts. Guess I should’ve mentioned that earlier, huh? Either way it seems important that I say it’s part of my daily life. I do it every day, and I’ve never had a problem with reception in that area, so when the sound started to glitch out, I thought something was wrong with my car. It was frustrating, sure, but not a big deal, even if I don’t necessarily enjoy the sound of static more than the average person.

I went through the usual useless attempts to fix it, of course. Smacked it a few times, turned it off and on again, but nothing changed. In the end, I just turned it off as I kept driving. Figured my own thoughts were better than the white noise that faded in and out of my speaker at an unpredictable volume. Things were fine for a few minutes. I’d almost gotten to the end of the street when I realized something wasn’t quite right.

At first, I thought maybe the light was just reflecting into my eyes weird. Maybe I’d just seen something out of the corner of my eye that there was a fine explanation for. Because… I knew this road. And there had never been a house there before. I was sure of it. A whole house isn’t something that could go up in a night, but you know that, you aren’t an idiot.

[Record scratch, cutting the music off.]

ARCHIVIST:

[pretentious bastard] I’d certainly like to think so, yes.

[ACCOUNT.]

But there it was. It wasn’t right next to the other houses, a few lots down the road instead. Other than my knowledge that it wasn’t there before, though, it could have blended into the neighborhood without anyone noticing.All things considered, it was a pretty nice house. Sure, it was done up in that fancy Victorian style and therefore inherently a little unnerving, you know how those old places just seem a little haunted even if they’re perfectly put together?

Still, beyond that, it was fine. Not broken down in that sort of creepy ghost way that you see in movies, or anything. The paint was pretty well done, only a little aged from the sun, and all the wood on the wrap-around porch was together. I mean if I was building a murder house, I would’ve splintered the boards and peeled up the exterior wall a bit, something along those lines, you know? It looked like someone could have been living out of it. Totally normal.

I know what you’re thinking, that I got out and had a look, but I can’t say I did. As the sun was going down? While I was all of a sudden unsure of my own thoughts? Really? No way in hell. I’m not an idiot either. So I kept driving. As I passed by, I got this strange feeling… like I wasn’t alone on the street. I don’t know if I imagined it or not, but with how much I was already questioning what I knew, I wasn’t sure I wanted the answer, and I sped away, not wanting to stick around any longer than I had to. Now, when I got home, I went through stages of denial before realizing that, hey, it wasn’t my damn neighborhood, and therefore not actually a problem that I would have to deal with.

At least until I was driving back from work the next afternoon. Funny how that works… your problems don’t just disappear because you’ve chosen to ignore them. Although ignore is a strong word considering I spent all day at work worrying about whether or not I should trust myself and whether or not I would see the house again when I drove home… I could’ve gone another route, of course. Could’ve gone even one street over and left it at that.

But that isn’t how it works, is it? I was so unsure of my own thoughts that I’d rather put myself in a situation that seemed potentially harmful than not know if I was wrong or not. [beat] So I went down the same route, just like I’d been conditioned to for the last decade. Once again, the couples were inside. They had to know something was wrong, I mean I was able to realize the house shouldn’t have been there and I didn’t even live in the neighborhood. I slowed my car to a snail’s pace as I inspected all about the street that I could. Not really sure what I was looking for if I’m being honest, but when I got to the house, I’d convinced myself that, yes, in fact, it was as real as the rest of the places on the block.

I don’t think it was really a conscious decision when I stopped the car. I’d just been going so slow already and… well I’d reached my target, hadn’t I? I sat and gazed over the house for a few moments. Looking over the perfect condition it seemed to be in, to no avail. It seemed to be perfectly normal. Maybe… Maybe I was really just in my head about all of this. Was it really that hard to believe? I should’ve just left, stopped staring at this place. Sitting there wasn’t going to change the fact that it was there, whether or not I could really trust my mind.

But… then I saw the curtains in the front window move. I snapped my gaze over to where I’d seen the motion and there was a little boy staring at me through the glass. He looked off to something behind the curtain before looking back over and waving, grinning a gap toothed smile at me. I... Well I wasn’t quite sure what to do with that so… I waved back. What else was I supposed to do? In an instance, I became convinced that I’d really just made the whole thing up. If there really was someone inside and nothing untoward seemed to be going on, the kid had seemed perfectly happy after all, then it had to be a real house. And really, if it had been some big spooky master plan, then why would he have acknowledged me? I’ve been to the movie theatre. I know children in horror flicks can be creepy, but just straight up waving at me like I was just another neighbor and nothing was going on? Didn’t exactly set up the sinister mood that I figured would have come from the place.

And then a hand shot out and. The kid recoiled as it shut, looking disappointed that he’d been caught doing something it was evident he wasn't supposed to. And I snapped back into trusting myself and sticking with my gut. I didn’t like the look of that. At all. Unfortunately, my whole life, I’ve generally been prone to the third fear response rather than either of the useful ones: I freeze. This time was no different. I couldn’t bring myself to drive away.

[In the background, eerie music begins playing.]

I sat there in dead silence for what felt like hours with a vague feeling of unease hanging in the air when the door opened. A man stepped out, wearing this fine tailored suit that I’d seen clients wealthier than I would ever be wear into my office and carried himself with the confidence of a person that knows no one is going to cross them. Despite all that, his face was soft. Approachable. Kind, even. Seemed like the kind of guy that knew he had money, but was willing to help you if you’d just say thank you afterwards.

As he approached my car he called out to me: “Hello there!”

Nice and friendly. Even with the strangeness of a few moments ago and my lingering unease, I could hardly bring myself to believe that this man would do anything to me. Sure, I was still stuck to my seat in fear, but he seemed perfectly safe. Maybe that’s just what it’s like to be charismatic though, looking back. I wasn’t sure what to do at that point, but my pre-programmed social response got the better of me and I rolled down my window to meet him.

“Hi.” I said. Just a simple greeting until I could really figure out what was happening.

He put one hand on the top of my car and leaned down to meet my eyes. As he spoke, his smile never faded: “So… I take it… you can see this place?”

Well, I was so taken aback I wasn’t really sure what to say, so I just nodded. And the next thing he said, well… threw me a bit off. He stood up, brushed off his pants calmly, turned back to the house, began walking, and he just said-

[Record scratch, cutting the music off.]

ARCHIVIST:

Now there’s a profanity here that I will not repeat, but it seems Ayla’s statement finishes there.

[The Archivist sighs and shuffles their papers.]

ARCHIVIST:

There’s not much followup to be done here. Ayla gave us a street address, but didn’t actually tell us which house it was. [mutters] Perhaps she’s more of an idiot than she claims to be.

Regardless, upon investigating the street, nothing appeared to be out of the ordinary, though none of our staff were familiar enough with the area to tell which houses should and shouldn’t be there. In my personal opinion, this is a mere case of a poor attention span. I can’t blame Ayla, I suppose, but was it really worth coming here and telling a whole dramatic story over it?

[scoff] There are some other areas of this statement that leave room for questioning and research, such as the radio static and the house’s residents. For now, however, I will be filing this one under “Irrelevant” in my mind. End recording.

[Recorder clicks on.]

[Recorder clicks back on.]

[There’s footsteps as HR walks down the hall. They knock on the Archivist’s office door. Meanwhile, the Archivist can be heard moving something.]

HR:

[muffled] Uh, hello? I’ve got something for the Archivist.

ARCHIVIST:

Oh, uh, yes, of course. Just let me— [They curse as they are heard tripping over piles of statements.]

[A pause.]

HR:

...should I come back at a later time, or—?

[The door suddenly swings open.]

ARCHIVIST:

Right. Blimey. Sorry about that, mate. What’s all this, then?

HR:

Er, are you the head archivist?

ARCHIVIST:

That depends, who’s asking?

HR:

Your HR. I’m also an intern under Mr. Banks, which brings about a whole array of other useless titles, but for your purposes, I’m just HR. My name is Luca.

ARCHIVIST:

Oh! Lovely. Mr. Banks told me I’d be seeing you. Um, pleasure to meet you.

HR:

Thanks, you—wait, wh—?

ARCHIVIST:

[trying to change the subject] Say, why are you here, Luca? Any plans for after your internship? I mean, surely, you have a field of study, a career plan?

HR:

[slowly, growing increasingly confused] Oh, um, yeah. I, um—well, I started here—um, yeah, after my internship, I. Uh.

ARCHIVIST:

It’s alright if you don’t have a plan, y’know. Took me a while to figure all my stuff out, and, well, I got out alive, didn’t I?

HR:

No, it’s just—I know I have something, I just. Um. [desperately trying to change the subject] What are you doing in there, exactly?

ARCHIVIST:

[beat] Oh, just some housekeeping.

HR:

...and that required you to move an entire bookshelf?

[A long pause.]

ARCHIVIST:

Listen, I know what this looks like.

HR:

Doesn’t he have a weird thing about that?

ARCHIVIST:

[passionate] Which is exactly why I did it! I mean, they’re not the heaviest bookshelves in the world, so it’s certainly not a matter of safety.

HR:

[mutters] As if Mr. Banks has ever valued the life and safety of his employees.

[Both are heard walking back into the office towards where the bookshelf was.]

ARCHIVIST:

[cont.] Which means there must have been something weird about the bookshelf—and I was right. See, look, there’s like a weird...hole. Thing.

HR:

...I’m guessing that’s why Mr. Banks made me bring you a shovel?

ARCHIVIST:

Hm? Oh, right, the shovel. Kind of forgot I had asked for that.

HR:

How did you not notice I was carrying it when I came here?

ARCHIVIST:

You see, within the hole, there’s this big mound of dirt, and I have reason to believe that there’s something hidden beneath.

HR:

[They sniff, then, disgusted] Oh god, why does it smell like something died in there?

ARCHIVIST:

That’s what I’m trying to find out.

HR:

Look, can’t you just...I don’t know, leave it? Like, just put the bookshelf back, spray some air freshener, and then be done with it? I really don’t want to have to write this up.

ARCHIVIST:

You expect me to work under these conditions? Having a mysterious hole in my wall with no idea what’s lurking within?

HR:

Look, I just think this is a really stupid idea. If Mr. Banks finds out—

ARCHIVIST:

He’s not going to! You— [they huff a sigh.] Would you just hand me my shovel? I’m going in!

HR:

Whatever you say.

[HR hands the Archivist the shovel.]

ARCHIVIST:

Thank you.

[They are heard shoveling for some time, before the Archivist finally seems to hit something.]

HR:

Is...is that…?

ARCHIVIST:

My god.

HR:

That’s a dead body.

ARCHIVIST:

Appears to be. [beat.] Do you know who it is?

HR:

I mean, they’re sort of hard to recognize now.

ARCHIVIST:

Perhaps the previous archivist?

HR:

I dunno, I never knew them.

[A long pause.]

ARCHIVIST:

Right, then. Back to work. Mind helping me move this bookshelf?

HR:

(under their breath) God, I’m gonna have to write this up, aren’t I?

[Recorder clicks off.]

[Theme music plays.]

[CREDITS.]

Incident Report Number 31 is a podcast made by Three-Eyed Frog Presents. This episode, “In the Middle of the Street,” was written, directed, and produced by Val West and Luka Miller with sound design by Luka Miller. This episode featured Val West as the Archivist and Luka Miller as HR. Music is produced by Luka Miller. To keep up with the show and find transcripts, make sure to follow us on our Twitter at @IR31Pod and on tumblr at @IncidentReport31. To contact us with any questions or concerns, feel free to email us at [email protected]. Thanks so much for listening!

#ir31pod transcripts

5 notes · View notes

gaiapaia · 3 years

Text

Kermit and Friends: God Bless America

Kermit and Friends was all over the news cycle last week.

From Elisa Jordana being interviewed in US Weekly Magazine, to Wendy Williams addressing Elisa and Andy Dick on her show, to even Fox News covering the story.... everyone wanted to discuss the bombshell Elisa dropped last week on Kermit and Friends regarding Andy Dick's most recent arrest.

All of this began on Tuesday evening. Elisa's birthday was on Wednesday and she remained relatively quiet on her social media and in the Kermit and Friends Discord. So what happened at her birthday party?

Andy forgot about Elisa's birthday. No shocker there. Still, Elisa managed to get Andy on the phone and paid to have a car go pick him up. To Andy’s credit, he got in the car. Unfortunately, that’s the only credit he will receive from this point forward.

When Andy arrived, the first thing Elisa did was introduce him to her lovely mother. Instead of small talking and exchanging pleasantries, Andy immediately asked Elisa’s mom if she had any pills she could give him. Yikes!

Andy would only stay at the party for a short while. He showed more attention to Lisa Vanderpump than he did to Elisa, and then he would run off to go hang out with the guy who allegedly broke his ankle, Lucas.

So Andy pretty much ruined Elisa’s birthday. Does he care? Of course not. Andy wouldn’t talk to Elisa again until Saturday night when he called Elisa to ask her to pay for his hotel bill. After Elisa declined, Andy hung up on her and blocked Elisa on Instagram. This is really sad, pathetic behavior.

Elisa is claiming she’s officially done with Andy. The thing is, Elisa has one of the most forgiving souls on the planet. All Andy would have to do is have one nice conversation with Elisa and she’ll most likely then treat him (and his friends) to dinner. Who knows if Andy will even do that though. I personally hope not, and if he does... maybe Elisa will keep her foot down this time and refuse to allow Andy to keep hurting her like this.

I’ve been friends with Elisa since 2015. I could do a run down right now of the guys Elisa has dated since I’ve been blessed to know her, and I wouldn’t have anything good to say about any of them except maybe Gonzo, which honestly was just a fling.

Elisa deserves better than this. I desperately hope throughout our friendship that I set some kind of precedent to show Elisa how she should be treated by anyone who claims to love her. If I can get one thing out of my efforts these last 5 years, it’s that. It’s fine that Elisa doesn’t love me back... but it’s my main wish that she someday understands how I treat her is how the real man in her life should treat her. And hopefully that guy has many other amazing qualities to offer too, because Elisa deserves that as well if she’s going to give her heart to someone.

For all my bickering and griping about the men in Elisa’s life this last decade, we met a lovely young woman yesterday by the name of Mel who’s had it even worse than Elisa!

Mel is Jesse G-Rider’s ex-girlfriend. She was a part of the infamous trap house gang right before Elisa became emerged in it. Mel’s relationship with Jesse was extremely abusive, to say the least. There were cases of petty jealousy, beatings, drugs... you name it, it most likely happened.

Jesse called in highly upset with Elisa for having Mel on the show. Jesse claims he has a restraining order against Mel despite the fact that Mel moved all the way to Detroit, Michigan to escape Jesse.

Jesse then threatened Elisa with legal action, claiming it’s illegal to help a person contact another person who has a restraining order against them. Newsflash to Jesse: first of all, that’s not illegal, dumb dumb. Secondly, YOU called into the show. Elisa didn’t call you with Mel on the line. So even if in some ass backwards World where you could press charges against Elisa, they would be dropped immediately because JESSE initiated the contact by his own free will, and it’s all on recorded video.

Anyway, Mel was fantastic on the show. She had cute little elf ears, top notch internet and audio, a nice gaming chair... Elisa was impressed by all of this, as I was I. Mel looked like a professional streamer and she was a good storyteller that was also very vulnerable and honest. She’s everything Elisa looks for in a Kermit and Friends star. Hopefully Mel will become a regular in our community.

During Mel’s interview, Sharmin Smith went in head first about the horrors of abuse and what America needs to do to help women like Mel out. As a survivor of abuse, Sharmin has some strong feelings on the matter and she was not shy to share them. Even though her Presidential bid for 2020 was unsuccessful, I hear by declare Sharmin Smith President of Kermit and Friends. In my book, that’s why better than being President of the United States of America!

We love America on Kermit and Friends though. Yesterday was July the 4th and Elisa invited Tony Alexander on to discuss his career in the American military and what he’s heroically done to help fellow veterans who have had a rough time adjusting to normal life once they returned home from the war. Tony was a class act through and through, and it was great to see Kermit make a new friend like him on Independence Day.

Another US veteran joined the show, Kermit’s old pal Chris Christine. She said a lovely prayer and then randomly flip opened the Bible so that God could choose a special passage to share with all of Kermit’s beautiful friends. She landed on 1 Kings 6, which is about Solomon building a temple of the Lord, much like Elisa has built the Kermitarian Church!

Claire from New Jersey called at the beginning of the show to ask Elisa her thoughts on Wendy Williams’ segment about Elisa and Andy. Wendy wasn’t very kind - she made light of Andy’s addiction despite being an addict herself, she told a very distasteful joke about Bill Cosby getting hired before Andy ever would, she mispronounced Elisa’s name on purpose, and she claimed that Elisa was trying to use Andy for success. So funny how the ignorant morons who say stuff like that don’t realize it’s been Andy using Elisa this entire time... it’s honestly sexism. Wendy as a woman herself should know better, but I guess her IQ just isn’t at a place where she could ever grasp that.

Sigmond returned to Kermit and Friends this week. Elisa kindly invited Sigmond to her birthday party on Wednesday and by all accounts, he was a superb guest. He even bought Elisa a present! Yep, Sigmond Twayne's Mental Cookbook was his gift and Elisa seemed to love it. This led to Gonzo calling in to ask why the book is so cheap on Amazon. Sigmond, remembering that it was Gonzo who called him a serial killer last week, said Gonzo is a liar and that the book cost $37 on Amazon. Well, Gonzo was actually being truthful because at the time of this blog entry, the book is on sale for just $8.76 from it’s listed price of $37.00. Do NOT miss out on this AMAZING deal and buy your copy today by clicking here!

Of course, Kermit and Friends isn’t Kermit and Friends without some spectacular musical performances. Boy, were we blessed with some good ones for the 4th of July. Elisa’s dad Craig returned to the show to beautifully perform a patriotic song from the 1700′s in which I sadly can’t find the title of. Sigmond’s partner Wappy performed an incredible original song and covered Pool Shark by Sublime. Elisa would also play one of Sugar’s awesome music videos for everyone to enjoy. Good stuff all around from Kermit’s unbelievably talented friends.

All in all, it was a very eventual Kermit and Friends, one absolutely fitting for Independence Day. The future seems more uncertain than ever, but as long as Kermit has all her friends to enjoy, everything will be A-okay. Can’t wait to see what next week’s show will bring :)

youtube

3 notes · View notes

popculturebuffet · 4 years

Text

Nightmare Time Episode 1 Review: The Hatchetfield Ape-Man/Watcher World

I take a look at the first episode of Starkid’s new show Nightmare Time! Starkid, returns for a zoomcast, bringing back the casts of both Hatchefield plays for an anthology series of science fiction double feature picture shows! This week’s tales of terror:

The Hatchefield Ape-Man: A british heiress gets romanced by a shaved bigfoot with the help of everyone’s favorite kooky college professor. Forgotten fiances, murder and described nudity naturally insue.

Watcher World: Bill and Alice return as Bill drags his daughter to a kitschy theme park for a day of family fun, which Alice enjoys and is as respectful about as much as you’d expect. As you’d also expect given Bill’s general luck, things take a turn for the Shining real quick. Spoilers and full review under the cut.

Well this was a nice suprise. With the ongoing pandemic I genuinely did not think Starkid would be back anytime soon. Having just gotten back into them this years after several years of forgetting they existed via the Hatchetfield plays, I was pretty bummed, if understanding. So last week’s announcment of not only this series but a full scripted series from their sister production company the tin bros was a HUGE shot of happy I needed in this troubling times. Still need to watch spies are forver love the soundtrack nto important.

Point is the Lang Brothers and their merry band of actors found a way to continue on via format I didn’t realize existed outside of table reads but is a nice way to do things: The Zoomcast, basically a podcast done live on zoom, with the actors in plainclothes for the most part, with one person, in this case Nick Lang, reading out descriptions of what’s going on. Being a starkid production this also has musical director Matt Bohm playing accompaniment and pretaped if still via the actor’s own camera musical numbers. Overall while i’ts an understandably cheap production, only what costumes the actors have on hand and most props mimed, it WORKS, allowing for way more elaborate set pieces than the stage would allow and is anchored by Lang’s impeccable descriptions and the cast’s amazing as always acting really making the stories pop. So things worked on a technical level despite having the barest of bones to work with. But did it work on a story level? Well yes, but if I ended my reviews with just that i’d have less than the 3 or 4 fans I do have, so without further ado, it’s nightmare time! The Intro:

Now normally in my reviews I don’t talk about the intro because I come in mid way or because I just didn’t think to. This is an exception since

A) I should be doing that anyway or at least when I cover a show’s first episode since intro’s are sometimes one of the most memorable parts of a show

B) It’s a full musical number that’s been stuck in my head since the trailer for this series and has now set up an apartment there. C) This series is a musical, if not to the same degree as the two plays before it, so it’d be weird NOT to talk about it’s signature song.

So with that out of the way the intro.. is fucking impressive. Seriously taking disparate videos with probably as much as the directions “Sing this part of the song and be kind of creepy or alluring or whatever” and making it really flow? Good work, both to the starkids for bringing their a game to it as always and to Nick and Matt really did a good job editing this together, musically and visually to be an abolute jawdrop. And somehow finding utterly stunning stock image animations that none of us realized were stock footage but still fit the tone perfectly. Just great stuff. Some stray notes: Mariah is absolutely stunning in both voice and apperance in this, John Matheson’s bit as paul was great, and Jeff Blim of course got a great bit with his always astounding hair blowing in the breeze with him at full high pitch. Just an utterly great intro, and for Starkid’s first series in over a decade, and really ever but semantics, they really brought it. Good stuff. Onto the actual episode content.

The Hatchetfield Ape-Man: Lucy, a british heiress played by Angela Giarratana, was saved by the legendary “Hatchefield Ape-Man”.. who apparently has a hyphen like spider-men because while sasquatches can do that. Point is she’s come back every year in the hopes of reuniting with her savior but has so far failed. But as Lucy prepares to leave from this year’s failed expedition, an old friend finally gives her what she needs... old friend to us to her she’s just some grey haired lunatic who showed up out of the mist. Which while accurate, dosen’t quite quantify everyone’s favorite playwright/college professor/murderous psychopath/composer.

Yes at long last Professor Hidgens has returned! I honestly didn’t expect the anthology to bring in such a huge fan faviorite so soon. I mean I expected returning characters, mostly because the project allows old faviorites to come back for their own stories or for the stars of the musicals to get a chance at a much happier ending... there’s a lot of potetial there. That and let’s face it “Jane’s a Car” is a pretty dead giveaway it’s going to be about Tom’s dead wife and Tim’s dead mother coming back in horrible mash up of christine and my mother the car. Maybe. I could be wrong. I also doubt many of you know what my mother the car is and to that I say it’s an old sitcom i’m honestly suprised I know exists and know nothing about other than the title and it being about a son’s mom’s ghost possesing his car apparently. Well that and it was the basis for this.

youtube

Point is, while I expected some returns, I wasn’t expecting one this large and this bombastic so soon, but BOY was it welcome. So getting back on track after all that, HIdgens seemingly takes Lucy to meet her ape man, who goes by the name Klonk, played by everyone’s faviorite sexy caveman Joey Richter. Also it’s adorable he and Lauren share a streaming screen. I know practicality and all that but their engagment is genuinely a sweet thing to hear about at a time when the world’s going down the toilet fast. Fun Fact: I pegged the Ape-Man was either going to be Jeff or Joey, leaning towards Jeff, though given my love of Joey I wasn’t disapointed with him, especially with the twist... but I was EXASTIC to learn the answer was basically “Both.. kinda?”. But yeah Lucy soon bonds with the ape man, with HIdgens encouraging her since it’s more than he’s gotten out of Klonk in 11 months of looking after the guy, and this way they can get him to learn enough to decide what he wants for himself.

So a few months, and some romantic bonding between woman and ape-man, pass but a wrench is thrown into Klonk’s wooing and attempt to tell lucy he loves her: Jonathan, Lucy’s just now mentioned fiance and royal dickhead played by Kurt Mega. And credit where it’s do whlie he clearly didn’t have to dress up, he did have a nice 50′s monster movie british person suit he put on. Lucy is now conlficted and what not even though Jonathan is kind of an asshole who just wants to drag her back home. And i’ts not like Lucy didn’t keep in touch: she sent him texts and probably called, so i’ts not like he didn’t know she was here. He’s also a hunter for extra dick points as if he needed them. Naturally when meeting his romantic rival he’s a dick.. but raises some valid questions: While Hidgens claim he shaved Konk due to lesions, there’s no mark of lesisons or the shaving. But his natural dickheadedness shines through and Jonathan talks about shooting Klonk before lucy takes his ring off and throws it and Jonathan goes after her. Annnnd yeah turns out the disposable dickhead fiance for once is RIGHT. In a twist I did not remotley see coming but damn if it wasn’t clever, Klonk.. is Ted from TGWDLM and the plan was to seduce lucy with this con, marry her and then bump her off. It’s a hell of a twist and cleverly hidden since Joey’s such a starkid mainstay, it’s not a huge suprise he was Klonk and thus easily hid the fact he was also Ted. It’s clever stuff and pivots the story nicely.

Ted is naturally a douchey as ever, going along with Hidgen’s plan to have him marry lucy then kill her and take her dough for themselves.. and unsuprisingly, so Hidgens can get Workin Boys off the ground. Granted there are easier ways to do this with the same scooby doo scheme: Just have HIdgens plan working boys casually, have Klonk really love it and being the sweetheart she is LUcy would fiance the thing just to make them both happy. I mean he can still marry her and ted can still have direct acess to her money if they want, it’s just an easier way that dosen’t shine supscion on the caveman who looks exactly like a local douchebag who everyone he’s met would testify against him. I mean would Paul and Bill REALLY be that suprised that Ted did this?

Exactly. Then again neither of our “heroes’ Here is very bright, and this scheme only works because Lucy is clearly very sweet, very naive, and very much wants a romantic evening with an ape man after all this time and effort searching, so she wants to believe him. So the fact the best they could come up with is something out of Scooby Doo is unsuprisng but still great. However things take a turn for the

Pretty quick as Hidgens takes disposable british douche fiance hunting.. then kills the guy after freely admiting he’s a fraud in what’s an INCREDIBLY chilling scene. Seriously it’s amazing how Robert takes a character as loveably redicilous, even his evil and murderous plan during TGWDLM was still hilariously rediclous, and makes him UTTERLY TERRIFYING. Even when dropping my fair lady refrences. Amazing stuff. So the next day, after Konk “asks” what an engagment is and what not, we then get Lucy wondering just WHERE jonathan is and we get the second biggest laugh of the night as Hidgens gives us the iconic line of “Oh he left... said something about you being crazy and going back to london and basically to go fuck yourself. “. Naturally Lucy has followup questions and goes to find out while Ted, also naturally, isn’t exactly pleased when he finds out his partner in crime did a murder on someone.

Ted may be a sleazy dickhead.. but even he sees maybe murdering a rich british person who just came here, went basically ONLY to this one location, and whose probably got many people who will misss him, one of whom is their primary target, is kinda dumb. Then again this is a plan that hinges on someone who could easily be identified, as he has or at least probably had an office job and three coworkers who know him, assuming a false identity to marry someone for their money. But again we’re dealing with a guy who thinks working boys is marketable to anyone who isn’t a starkid, and a moron who soon says he does his best thinking while erect. They only got this far because their target REALLY wants to fuck a sasquatch, is sweet but naive and well Ted IS still joey richter, and no longer has the porn stache so there you go. Ted decides to cut Hidgens out of things.. partly because you know, he killed a person, and partly because instead of killing Lucy, Ted realized he honeslty has a LOT to gain by simply marrying her and staying married. He gains a hot rich wife (his word’s not mine, but angie is genuinely beautiful so fair point), a mansion, and while Hidgens points out the obvious, he has to stay Konk.. that’s actually appealing to Ted as he feels better as Konk, not just because he impresses an attractive woman for doing basic stuff, but because he feels better as Konk. This is.. an intresting turn for Ted i genuinely like. It shows that Ted may, as much as he presents with bluster and ego, actually LIKE the kind of shithead he knows he is. I mean looking at his life he has two workmates who calling them friends is a bit of a stretch, and one who he’s having an affair with but seems detemrined to make her doomed marriage to an even bigger asshole work. He really dosen’t have much as ted so it’s easy to see why being Konk is better: He’s a better person as him who actually has someone who cares about him. Naturally Hidgens takes this as well as you’d expect and when Ted/Konk tries proposing he goes with the logical option for taking the fourtune for himself:

Yes really. Hidgens strips naked, and swings his arms around like an orangutan to try and convince Lucy he’s the real hatchetfield apeman. Sadly this dosen’t mean we get a shirtless robert manion as he needs to keep the turtleneck on for later, but the mental image.. I had to pause the video for a good minute to laugh over it. Just everything about it from it somehow being a dumber plan than his scheme this episode, to the orangutan swaying to just.. everything. It’s fucking genius. But Higdens has more than a mighty penis to compete with Ted.. he reveals ted’s phone and Ted ends up revealing himsef by telling Hidgens to go fuck himself. Naturally Lucy is distraught and tries to leave and the professor pulls out his shotgun to threaten her into financing his musical because of course it’s about workin boys. Lucy tries to run, Hidgens tries to shoot.. and ted , doing the first good thing in his entire life, takes the bullet. Lucy gets ted out of there then locks the door behind them, and we get the SCARIEST bit in this segment as Hidgens leans into the camera, simulating the peep hole of the vault door to the ape man inclosure and begs her to let him out. It’s some real Jack Nicholson in the Shining stuff and it’s utterly terrifying, but it’s also an amazing bit of acting. Nice job Rob. So ted bleeds out, as much as Lucy wants to save him he knows he’s not going to make it and prefers to die as Konk, finally happy with himself. And I just realized everyone at Paul’s job is horribly miserable. I mean good god, Paul himself has serious depression issues judging by “Let it Out”, Ted clearly hates himself, Charlotte is in a horrible marriage and Bill just got out of one and has a strained realtionship with his daughter we’ll get into more in a bit. I mean honestly, Mr. Davidson is the only one of them who really dosen’t need therapy.. he just needs to tell his wife he wants her to choke him while he jerks off. For as ungodly hilarious as that line is he’s probably the most well adjusted person there. Go figure.

Naturally being already insane, Hidgens breaks out, still naked mind, and chases after Lucy. Also noticable is apparently some people thought hidgens was manipulated by the blue shit hive mind in TGWDLM. Which.. no. I do love the guy dont’ get me wrong.. but it was very obvious both from the way his musical number was done compared to the rest of the ones in the musical, and his actions that was entirely him, and his playing the music was so he could join, especially since we don’t see the hive mind use any mind manupluation on anyone else. Regular manipulation sure as seen with you tied up my heart and not your seed, manipulating charoltte into freeing her asshole husband so he could infect her and torturing bill for funsies. Just something to get out of the way. Point is he was always crazy we just now have him chasing an innocentish woman with his dong hanging out to prove it. He eventually catches her as Lucy catches herself in one of his bear traps when she hits the woods, because he had those for some reason.. and he has a resonable way out: Just give her the 30,000 dollars he needs for his musical. Thing is she dosen’t have the money.. or hardly any. She spent all of it trying to find the ape man and was marrying jonathan for his money and him for her title. And while it is a bit skeezy, it’s very clear both were using each other and likely knew it, and Lucy still comes out the most moral of our cast here.. granted it’s not a big stretch as hidgens is criminally insane, ted’s a skeeze and Jonathan.. well he’s just a diiiiiiccckkkk. It’s not hard is what i’m saying.. much like hidgen’s dick flopping around in the rain. But yeah he dosen’t take it well, Lucy goes up a tree, which is apparently something Becky did once. But before Lucy can die at the hands of a naked thespian, the REAL Ape-Man shows up and tears Hidgen’s arms off, taking lucy in his own arms afterwords and revealing he remembers her. The two hit it off instantly, it turns out his name is chumby in an excellent gag as that was what Hidgens wanted his fake ape man to be named but Ted froze, and go off into the night together. Awww.. what if a naked ape man played by my boy jeff blim and a british person can’t work who can?

We then close out the segment with a cameo appearance by Jamie Lynn Beatty, who while not part of the cast for this double feature, does get a fun showtune about the ape man. Also fun fact that i found out here on tumblr: That costume is from something Jamie did in HIGH SCHOOL. As in well over a decade ago. Like holy shit, good for her. She looks great in it. But yeah it’s a fun song and a nice way to close it out. Final Thoughts on the Hatchetfield Ape-Man: This was a great way to start things off. This one was more in line with starkids pre-hatchetfield work, a goofy story with some hidden depth inside. And like the guy who didn’t like musicals it was utterly terrifying in spots so yeah good stuff ,utterly hilarous and a great way to bring back some old faviorites while giving us a neat new protaganist. Good stuff.

Watcher World:

Now from a mostly comedy with a horrifying ending to just.. pure unfiltered horror and depression! It’s Watcher World! Bill and Alice are back! And given I love Mariah Rose Faith and Corey Dorris, I was exastic to find this was what the second segment was about.. mostly because I had no idea Starkid had teasers for the episodes on their instagram, or I would’ve known Hidgens was coming. I wouldn’t of known he’d be stark naked for the last third of his story but still, pleasant surprise.

So Bill and Alice are spending the day at Watcher World, a run down amusement park on the edge of town. It’s Alice’s last weekend before College so Bill’s trying to reconnect with her by cramming a good old fashioned family vacation down her throat. Alice is less than enthused, both because she clearly resents her dad in general, and because Deb is throwing a huge rager on the same night. My honest interpretation of that is that Deb fully inteded for her girlfriend to come but Bill sprung this on Alice at the last minute and being pretty oblivious and hating Deb, either didn’t care about taking alice from one last night with her friends and girlfriend or didn’t generally think that through. I mean don’t get me wrong normally i’d side with a parent not wanting their daughter to attend a huge teen rager on their last weekend together.. but it’s also Alice’s last weekend in town for some time, and it’s likely a saturday.. so he has another day, and presumibly had friday before this and while things with his ex wife are tense, fighting for an extra day with her would be understandable and i’ts not like Alice, even if she hates Bill, would really fight him on getting an extra day in the town she didn’t want to leave.

But that’s what I really like about this one that it’s layered. While Alice is slightly more in the right, she’s still shutting her dad out, refusing to let him follow her on instagram (though he does agree with her keeping it private as he dosen’t want Ted perving on her, which tracks, or Ted’s brother doing it which.. wait what?), and being on her phone the whole time to very clearly spite him and rub how much she dosen’t want to be there in her dad’s face. She dosen’t WANT to be at watcher world but instead of trying to talk to her Dad just wants to complain and apparenlty has on all their vacations.. it’s easy to see why Bill is annoyed by his daughter at times and thinks he has to FORCE HER to have fun with him, because otherwise she’d gladly ignore him for their entire weekends together for Deb. She’s so determined to punish her dad for the divorce, that she refuses to see on some level he IS trying, and is just sad about her leaving, and possibly leaving him forever and alone with nothing else in his life but his buddy Paul, whose getting married next week so that’s probably not helping. On the other hand the reason I say Alice is more in the right is that well.. Bill’s a grown ass men. And while, speaking for himself, grown ass men don’t always make the right decisions, and not speaking for myself neither do fathers... Alice’s acting out is understandable coming from an 18 year old whose been through hell over the last year, having her parents divorce being forced to move, loosing her friends. Bill however just kind of uses her age and angst as an excuse to undermine and belittle her feelings. Because he doesn’t like deb for the very stupid reasons of she does pot, instead of assuring her that Deb wouldn’t cheat on Alice with Deb’s former crush Zigg, starkid’s first non binary character in a nice show that Nick Lang wasn’t just covering his ass when he said there’d be more representation in starkid, which in his defense I didn’t doubt him on but it’s still nice he did so at the earliest opportunity and very clearly plans to use Zigg if he can find a nonbinary actor for them.

But yeah instead of assuring his daughter, Bill is just like “well sometimes relationships don’t work out” which while true is clearly his self serving way of trying to get Alice to break up with someone he dosen’t like. INstead of supporting her in her dreams of writing plays, one of which was good enough to get her a scholarship, he tries to act like she has no plans for her future and get her to be a doctor for more security, even though having a secure job has done.. no one at his office including him favors. I mean again, the most stable and happy person at the office is the guy in charge, and even he can’t tell his wife he wants her to choke him out at night. He wants her to choke him, he wants her to choke him while he jerks off, he wants her to choookeeee himmm while heeeee jerrrkssss offfff.

While part of this seems to be that Deb plans to be a starving artist who can mooch off her parents in a pinch, Alice GENUINELY seems to have a full plan for her life. I do get his worrying about her future.. but she’s a smart kid. A bit of a brat but she knows what she wants clealry and clearly has talent. He’s just projecting his own fears on her. He also refuses to accept any responsibility in the divorce.. his hating his ex wife IS valid, as she took his daughter away, uprooted her life a year before graduation and spends gobs of money on impressive outings, the latter two seemingly just to spite him when honestly, it’d of made more sense for Alice to stay with Bill for the year before she graduates and been better for her. However, Bill still doesn’t take responsibly that he too is shoving fun down her throat to try and win her over, hates her girlfriend and refuses to treat her with any respect, and really DOSEN’T know Alice all that well. As we learn during their fun day she has anxiety, and he never knew about it. And the divorce isn’t really an excuse when he had years before that. It’s the real problem of their relationship: Bill feels ENTITLED to a good father daughter relationship, but isn’t working at it and blames his ex wife or Alice for it instead of himself. While Alice isn’t an innocent as i’ve made clear, putting up walls and not telling dad things, given bill ignores her when she DOES try to tell him about her life, it’s easy to see she’s just given up. If he won’t listen why bother. Which yeah i’ve found myself there with my own dad from time to time. Bill’s not a bad person, he genuinely loves Alice, as he says “to the moon and back”, but it’s very clear from this outing he still loves the little girl who loved him unconditionally and not the complicated and mopey adult sh’es become, and dosen’t WANT to adapt to that and fears once she leaves for college she’ll avoid him for good, which isn’t unfounded. It’s a good, complex rich dynamic. Naturally with.. all this I covered up front instead of sprinkling it throughout, the day doesn’t go great, with Alice utterly miserable most of the time, and ending up in a goofy novelty t-shirt due to a log ride. She also has an unsettling encounter with park mascot Blinky, our newest adorable abomination, who not only shows up the moment she does something bad on camera but also stares at her ass, which.. Paul you mind coming back for a second?

Thank you. They end up at the Watch Party, a cheesy kids show musical because Bill apparently equates this with his daughter loving musicals. I mean granted cheesy kids stage shows can be rad just listen to this.

youtube

But I get Alice’s annoyance here. Thus we get the return of the sniggles, who apparently serve whatever eldrich deity is around this week and our first song of this segment, The Blinky Song. Which is catchy as hell as well as hilariously dark (”I’m so hungry”), and uses the stock footage well, as I could buy a cheap theme park ran by an eldtirch eye goblin using stock footage. But yeah it establishes Blinky as always watching and kinda fucked up. Also the sniggles are now clearly the smurgs with Angie’s now being named Sniglette, Jeff being papa Sniggle and James being Snigglotts. However Sniglette considers leaving with another song with a long string of words. Then, things get.. dark as the rest of the sniggles don’t want her to leave and try and mob her, and then Papa Sniggle accidently wings her with a mallet and apparenlty injures the actual performer, before everyone’s ushered out and the usher pretends nothing happened. Good mind screw horror stuff.

Alice and Bill then bicker a bit with my above point being made as Alice TRIES to get Bill to accept some respoinablity but he refuses and blames her mom. It’s now time for the Tear-Jerker, the reason they came. Bill’s buddy Paul says someone died. They also find three other people waiting in line and when one goes to the bathroom the other two start making out which.. yeah, dosen’t help Alice’s worry Deb’s going to cheat on her. So she takes the first single rider pass she can, with Bill worming his way in as to not let her get away. The two naturally end up fighting on the Tear-Jerker before it stops up high, and ends up stalled, with the gloriously returning Nerdy Kid played by Joey from Black Friday being as helpful as usual. Seriously bless them for bringing him back. Man in a Hurry also showed up again, bless him too. Alice picks this time to reveal her fear of heights and anxiety, and an approaching storm isn’t helping. So Bill.. steps up. He helps ease Alice down taking her phone for her, if loosing it due tot he rain and helping her stay calm. It’s a REALLY nice portrayal of an anxiety attack, with Mariah herself apparently having them and thus portraying it really well. As someone who has them myself it really hits home and Bills calm attempts to help her are really heartwarming, getting her to describe her musical for him and the two bonding. It’s genuinely sweet. But.. it can’t last, as Alice freaks out about her phone and Bill for once is in the right, as .. he was you know.. trying to save his daughter having a panic attack, and really stepped up given he was obnovious she had anxiety in the first place, and managed it well. He then gives the utterly heart stomping line “I love you to the moon and back, but sometime’s it’s really hard to like you. “

Just damn. So Alice runs off and both find their way to the fairway. Bill tries winning a doll for Alice, getting into a test of strength where he fails repedatly and is constantly mocked by the barker, played by James Tolbert who also played Blinky..

That should be Tolbert’s twitter handle. Anyway point is, Bill keeps trying even as he wracks up 400 dollars in credit card debt, for a 49.95 doll, before eventually the barker and hte crowd’s jeers get to be too much and he does smack it hard, thinking of all of his pent up rage towards alice.. just as the bell at the top takes the shape of alice’s head and explodes. Bill is naturally horrified by this by the barker assures he loves him.. and that he should totally hobble his daughter misery style to make her not leave him and use the mallet for it. Meanwhile Alice is at the shooting Gallery not wanting the blinky doll she wins, just blowing off steam when she runs into an old crone played by Lauren Lopez. But this Crone has her phone... which suspiciously has a ton of instagram photos of Deb and Zigg making out while sharing a toke. Granted Deb COULD’VE cheated, but given Alice is insecure, and her phone was given back to her by a witch working for an eye goblin.. yeah maybe just maybe Deb was loyal, and if she wasn’t wouldn’t be dumb enough to put it on instagram. But given Alice is already worked up it’s easy enough for her to beliive that her relationships in danger and if she gets there in time she can stop it and oh look her gun is now a real gun and can help her get the keys. So yeah it’s time for a creepy as hell Shining-esque showdown, but if both sides were possesed instead of one. It’s.. a CHILLING as hell scene, not helped by Alice wielding a gun again as both fight. I was gripped the entire time and don’t have much to say utter than HOLY SHIT THIS WAS AS TERRIFYING AS IT WAS RIVITING.

But a crowd gathers as the fight continues.. all with purple eyes which ave been seen on and off, watchers with a thousand eyes.. and with Blinky, now revealed NOT to be a costume probably, above them all. We also get one hell of a line. “This is an amusement park but not for YOUR amusement.”

So yeah I love this sequence.. and Blinky as a villain. While it’s vague if he and Blinky are the same entity.. I’m going with not. It’s not a stretch that like Cthulu, Wiggly has brothers in the black and white, with their own motives, methods and ability to get into our world. Unlike Wiggly.. Blinky’s already here and has no real ambition other than to find people to mentally tear apart and set loose on one another for his own amusement. He doesn’t have grand plans of burning the world.. he just wants to be entertained. It’s an interesting and chilling motive and I hope we see him again eventually. I also believe those at the park are trapped there bound after their own day there and trapped doing whatever Wiggly needs. Except maybe squeaky voiced teen. He probably just complains about cleaning up so much blood. But yeah Blinky is very happy as the fight escalates into the hall of mirrors and Alice looses her gun.. with Bill now poised to strike down his daughter as the mirror reflects the various workers at the park, all encouraging him to kill her... it’s utterly terrifying as Bill’s eyes take on a purple tint.. and we get a POWERFUL use of the score and the “why does it hurt to love you’ bit from TGWDLM.. as Bill sees himself and what he’s about to do, sees his daughter understandably having a panic attack.. and calms her, his eyes returning and the two reconciling. Of course Blinky isn’t happy about this “sappy bullshit” and brings htem into his domain, charging at them. But kinda missing that giving a pissed off teenager a rifle she knows how to use when you have a giant target for a face isn’t a good idea and she shoots him, with him bleeding a flood of purple goo that sends them out. While I doubt Winky’s dead, he is done with them. Our story concludes on a sweeet note as the two find their car, and they finally make as tep forward, Bill having seen almost too late how selfish and controlling he was being and accepting his daughter on her phone.. and Alice realizing her need to open up and after checking Instagram, likely finding out those photo’s weren’t real, she throws her phone in the back.. but not before accepting her dad’s request, letting him in. Sure the road ahead is rough.. but the two have made a good first step towards repairing things and loving one another again in a healthy manner. and all it took was bill nearly murdering her and allice shooting an eye goblin int he face and getting covered in his blood. Cue the credits, a beautiful song called “One Thousand Eyes” with Jeff Blim fucking nailing it. A great way to send off this bit. Final Thoughts: This was the best one of the two. While Ape Man is really good too, this one took the darker tone of black friday, but with a tighter narrative. By focusing on a smaller cast, the darker elements really played better and the conclusion felt more satisfying.. though it helped that BOTH of these tails ended without everyone dying, and while I doubt EVERY story will have a happy ending, it makes things more interesting knowing that the heroes can get a happy ending this time around instead of an apocalypse.

Overall Thoughts: This double feature was great, I’ll be getting a ticket to the next one if I can afford it, and if not i’ll see it presumably in December or next year when it comes on YouTube. Really excellent stuff. So this was a first for me but if you’d like to see more starkid stuff from me, let me know in the comments or my askbox, commission me to review one of the musicals via dm, and if you liked how I did this review follow this blog for weekly ducktales and loud house coverage, and amphibia coverage when that returns, among more fun reviews. And until next time.. don’t blink. Play us out Jeff.

youtube

I really hope this is the ending theme for the series.

#nightmare time #hatchetfield #the hatchetfield ape man #watcher world #ted #professor henry hidgens #Bill Woodward #Alice Woodward #Lucy Stockworth #halloween #halloween havoc #paul matthews #jeff blim #team starkid #starkid

16 notes · View notes

stxphxn-strange · 4 years

Text

what? a beautiful wedding?

a/n: yeah this is going to be in multiple parts! it follows the notes for my college au and features: cute ironstrange shit, pepper having feelings for a taken/engaged christine, rhodey pining, and jesus (bucky) taking the wheel, so enjoy part one (1) of whatever this is💜

“Hi Chrissy!” Anthony chirped, trying to keep his voice low so as to not disturb a sleeping Stephen.

“Why do you have Stephen’s phone?” Christine asked, cocking an eyebrow at her friend. She normally saved this particular eyebrow raise for Stephen, but since he and Anthony were so similar she’d probably get similar results.

Anthony kept his response brief: “Stephen isn’t feeling well and fell asleep as soon as we left the house, and I figured you’d rather me answer than wonder if he’s ignoring you. This is your wedding day, after all.”

Christine frowned. “What’s up? And when did you guys leave?”

“Probably half an hour ago, the traffic is brutal today. And you know how Stephen can get claustrophobic sometimes?” Anthony replied.

“On top of his car-sickness? Jesus,” Christine said. “Well you’re not a med student but I trust you know how to take care of your boyfriend, so I won’t lecture you. What time are you getting here?”

“Probably another half an hour,” Anthony asked. “Why do you seem jittery?”

“Pepper called me last night,” Christine said.

With those words, everyone in the car (including the Odinsons, Bruce, Sam, and Bucky, with whom T’challa was currently on the phone) was silent. It was no secret that the entire friend group knew that Pepper had a bad crush on Christine. In fact, the only person who probably didn’t know was Christine’s fiancée. Hope either had no idea, or she was just ignoring: the longing stares Pepper would give Christine, and Pepper’s obvious jealousy at the fact that they were getting married today.

“What did she say?” Sam asked quietly. “Damnit James watch the road!”

“I’m not the one driving,” Rhodey replied. “Sam I’m rolling my eyes at you through the phone.”

“I was talking to Bucky,” Sam replied.

“You guys let Jesus take the wheel?” T’challa asked.

Rhodey laughed, far louder than he should have, and subtly brushed his shoulder against T’challa’s.

Anthony shushed the group, making a mental note to talk with Stephen later about finally setting them up. “What did Pepper say, Christine?”

“I was asleep when she called, so I didn’t answer at the time. But she left me a lot of cryptic voicemails, most of them saying that she had a secret and didn’t know how to tell me,” Christine replied. “She sounded like she was drunk, honestly.”

Anthony frowned, feeling somewhat responsible for this. Did he give Pepper the wrong advice when she asked? Should he have invited her to stay the night, so she wouldn’t be alone with her thoughts? His facial expression quickly morphed into one of distress.

Rhodey threw a bag of chips at him. “Hey, stop that. If you’re at fault, we’re all at fault.”

“What do you mean? And Tony why does your face look like that?” Christine asked.

“I just feel bad,” Anthony said, dropping his head to rest on Stephen’s. Looking up again, he clarified: “Yesterday Pepper came to talk to Steph and me when we were having brunch and then we invited her to come hang out and she talked about how she was feeling. She insisted on going home after a little bit and said we weren’t giving her the advice she wanted to hear, but I wonder if I should have asked or insisted that she stay over. None of us would want her to be hurting if we could avoid it.”

“Rhodey is right,” Harry said. “We’re not in control of how she acts or feels.”

“Is she okay now?” Anthony asked, the worry refusing to leave his face.

“She seems fine, a little hungover if anything,” Christine replied. “I’ll keep an eye on her while we’re getting ready, I don’t want her to feel bad either. How far away are you guys?”

“Maybe 15 minutes, traffic permitting,” Wong said, drumming on the steering wheel.

“I’d say 20 for us,” Bucky added. “The Odinsons are suggesting I break the speed limit.”

“You drive like our ancient aunt!” Hela yelled at him.

“Where do you expect me to step on it, there’s nothing but traffic as far as the eye can see!” Bucky replied.

“I’m hanging up so you guys can sort that out, bye!” T’challa said, quickly hanging up the phone. He rolled his eyes, his stare lingering on Rhodey for a few seconds before he looked away.

Anthony had half a mind to wake Stephen and rant about how they couldn’t get past the pining stage, but there would be time to scheme later. Stephen needed his rest, and Anthony didn’t want him to panic.

“I’m hanging up too,” Christine said after some more chitchat. “I’m going to do my makeup.”

“You’re doing your own makeup for your wedding?” Wong asked.

“If you want something done right, do it yourself!” Christine replied. “Besides, remember that smokey eye I did for you in junior year? No one else can do that.”

She hung up before Wong had a chance to concede.

++++

Stephen was woken up somewhat gently(?) by Anthony elbowing him in the ribs. “Why?” He asked, rubbing the last traces of sleep from his eyes.

“You didn’t wake up when I kissed your cheek or played with your hair,” Anthony replied simply.

“I thought you’re supposed to kiss a sleeping person on the lips,” Stephen said, shifting to straddle his boyfriend.

“I will now that you’re awake,” Anthony said, giving Stephen a smattering of short kisses. “But I didn’t have your exact permission to kiss you while you were asleep, so I waited.”

Stephen wrapped his arms around Anthony’s shoulders, scooting closer to him. “You know I love you and how chivalrous you always are.”

“I love you too!” Anthony interjected with a small smile.

“But,” Stephen continued. “I’m awake now, and weddings put us both in a romantic mood… so will you just kiss me like you mean it?”

“Who am I to deny you?” Anthony murmured, tracing Stephen’s lips with his finger before finally leaning in and kissing him.

They were both breathless when they pulled away, Stephen resting his head on his boyfriend’s shoulder again.

Christine came into view, knocking on the window of the car. “I need to talk to you guys, please.”

The couple scrambled out of the car, standing alongside their friend. Christine was still in her sweats, her auburn hair in rollers as she shifted her weight from left to right.

“Jesus fuck, I have to catch you up,” Anthony told Stephen.

37 notes · View notes

paladin-lynx · 4 years

Text

SquipJere Week 2020, Day 4: Mr. Roboto

@squipjerebmc’s SquipJere Week 2020 Day 4: Mr. Roboto

Ships Involved: The SQUIP x Jeremy Heere (Technical Difficulties/Squipemy/Squeremy/JereSquip/SquipJere)

Setting: Canonverse, set in the time interval between “Loser Geek Whatever” and “Halloween”.

Trigger/Content Warnings: None

Jeremy had never been one to ‘bask in the limelight,’ as they said. He wasn’t exactly content to stay on the sidelines for his entire life like Michael was, but he didn’t need to be the center of attention. It would just be kind of nice to be looked at by someone other than his best friend since kindergarten or bullies searching for a punching bag.

But he had to admit, after his first real hangout with the ‘cool kids’ had been a success, he felt like a movie star. All of the eyes on him as he’d mastered the dancing game at Dave & Buster’s had been somewhat overwhelming at first, but he’d quickly adjusted and it just felt good to be recognized, even if it was for something that he technically hadn’t achieved on his own. But even Rich, who without a doubt knew how Jeremy had danced like he was a professional to a song he didn’t even know that well on the highest difficulty on some obscure music game, had praised him and let him have his brief moment of fame.

But it was enough attention to satisfy him for a week or more and as keyed up as he was from all the interaction, it felt nice to be home. The entire scene kept replaying itself in his head – whether that was because of him or because it was the SQUIP’s silent way of saying ‘look how well you did,’ he wasn’t completely sure – and he had a bit of a skip in his step as he walked into the house. His father hadn’t even seemed to notice he was gone so there was no way he’d noticed that Jeremy had taken the car.

The rest of the Saturday passed without much fanfare, and soon enough it was Sunday. Sundays were usually Jeremy’s day to buckle down and get his homework done, and he usually didn’t look forward to it. When he didn’t want to get up from bed, the SQUIP lightly prodded at him until he did, teasing him for his bedhead and telling him that it was sure it would be a productive day.

Jeremy had never really liked doing homework. The one exception was when he was given books to read, although that heavily depended on the book. However, ever since getting the SQUIP, he hadn’t gotten much more enthusiastic about doing schoolwork but he found it much easier to focus. He knew for a fact that was because of the SQUIP’s influence – or at least, it had definitely started that way and now Jeremy wondered if maybe his focus was better because his mind had been properly trained.

And so after scarfing down a bowl of cereal – the SQUIP had been intent on him having three meals a day, something Jeremy hadn’t exactly been great about before considering he opted to skip breakfast ninety-five percent of the time – he settled in at his desk to start on the one subject that was the bane of his existence: math. Michael had always been the one who was better with numbers while Jeremy was better with words. Jeremy had been in the drama club when he was in elementary school and for part of middle school, although he never had any roles that were too notable, but it was enough to satisfy him. His adoration of Christine had only bolstered his love of theater. He’d even debated a few times over the course of his short life trying to write poetry or songs, but he’d never gotten into the right mindset for it. He doubted he’d be good at it, anyway.

But now he had the SQUIP which, as it had so proudly declared the first day he’d gotten it, was made of math. There were certain things the SQUIP would do for him, but homework wasn’t one of them. It would stand by as Jeremy worked, ready to assist, but it would never just give him the answers. It would walk him through the problems or prompts to make sure he understood how to find the solution, and of course because the SQUIP was in his brain, Jeremy would find himself understanding even if he had initially found himself lost as the SQUIP rattled off information.

And so he sat at his desk and got to work – normally he’d end up hunched over in his chair, but thanks yet again to the SQUIP that was no longer the case – furrowing his brow as he started on the various problems. The SQUIP was helping him raise his grades but he still had to put in the effort himself, because if he was suddenly a prodigy in every subject, there would definitely be some eyebrows raised in his direction. So he needed to do well, but not too well, kind of like how he hadn’t gotten a perfect score back at Dave & Buster’s. There was a balance to these things, wherein the SQUIP would step in and hold his hand to lead him down the right path until Jeremy learned well enough to see the way on his own.

Jeremy usually waited until he got through all the problems he could do on his own before he asked for help, almost like he was still a little kid going to ask his parents if they could assist him. Then again, the SQUIP would always be there as soon as he so much as thought that he might not be able to figure something out on his own. No embarrassing scurrying down to the kitchen necessary – although it was still a bit embarrassing to need help at all.

And to his pleasant surprise, he was actually getting through most of the assigned problems relatively quickly. Sure, there were a couple that had him scratching his head for a few minutes, but it just took a quick flip through his notes – those were getting neater and better organized, too – for him to come to a realization. He might actually be able to have some free time on this Sunday instead of spending the whole day besides meals and bathroom breaks sitting at his desk and working.

He was so absorbed in his work – what a rarity – that he almost missed that there was sound in the room other than the scratching of his pencil against his notebook. When he finally noticed it, he looked up with his brow creased, confused. It almost sounded like humming, but he was pretty sure that even if his dad sang in the shower, it wouldn’t reach all the way through the closed door.

That was when he turned to see the SQUIP standing on the other side of the room, back facing him. It had a few translucent blue screens floating around it, each displaying various numbers and data that Jeremy could never even hope to understand, and it was tapping its chin as it looked over everything. Jeremy knew that the visuals were just to fit his personal aesthetics and to give him something to look at as the SQUIP interacted with him so his brain wasn’t left utterly baffled, but he still couldn’t help feeling intrigued.

Especially when he realized that his SQUIP was, in fact, humming as it went about its business.

Of course, as soon as Jeremy realized, the sound stopped and the screens fizzled away as the SQUIP looked over its shoulder. “What? You should be doing your homework.”

“You were humming,” was all Jeremy managed to say, realizing after a heartbeat how stupid it sounded to state the obvious.

However, the SQUIP merely blinked at him, turning around to properly face him, arms crossing against its chest. “I was not.”

“Wh—You were!” Jeremy protested. “I heard it.”

“Perhaps you were humming to yourself as you worked?”

“No way, I don’t hum when I work. Especially not when I’m doing math.”

The SQUIP seemed to bite back a smile at that and instead huffed. “Everything I do in this physical manifestation, Jeremy, has a purpose. There would be no reason for me be humming at this moment, so therefore I was not humming.”

Jeremy’s eyebrows furrowed. “But you were. I heard you. I know my brain is fucked up, but it isn’t so bad that I’m imagining humming. I even know the song. It was ‘Mr. Roboto’ by, uh…erm…shit…”

“Styx,” the SQUIP interrupted, although it didn’t seem entirely pleased to be giving Jeremy evidence against its argument.

“Yeah, Styx! It played at one point in Dave & Buster’s yesterday. When Jake and Brooke were doing the basketball game thingy.”

The SQUIP scowled at him. “Jeremy, I wasn’t humming. That would be illogical. Why would I carry out such a pointless act?”

Jeremy blinked, before shrugging. “I dunno. For fun? You’re an A.I., after all, so you have things that you like to do even if you don’t need to do them…right?”

He remembered the SQUIP telling him just a few days ago that it was impossible for it to ever be at a loss. But the SQUIP right now looked just a bit baffled at Jeremy’s explanation. “I…suppose that might be true. Have I done anything else like that?”

Jeremy thought for a moment. “You looked like you were having fun yesterday when we were playing games with everyone. Maybe it was just you helping me, but I think you were getting something out of it, too. Maybe the happy chemicals in my brain were affecting you or something.”

The SQUIP snorted. “It doesn’t work that way, Jeremy. But…you may be onto something.” It tilted its head, and Jeremy wondered what exactly it was processing. But it spoke again just a few moments later: “It seems that I was, in fact, humming. It was just a…mindless action. I didn’t even seem to realize myself that I was doing it.”

“Well, you told me that with every interaction, you learn and evolve,” Jeremy replied. “So maybe because you’re poking around at me less, you’re starting to realize there are things that you like to do? And that song stuck with you from yesterday.” He smiled. “Kind of fitting, honestly.”

“I’m not a robot, Jeremy. I’m a supercomputer.”

“Oh, you know what I meant!”

The SQUIP chuckled softly, reaching up to push its hair back, even though Jeremy was pretty sure it was already perfectly in place as it always was. “…This is certainly an interesting development. I’ll have to look more into it.”

Jeremy frowned. “I know you’re all about numbers and results and stuff, but…can’t you just enjoy it and not try to dig in and find a reason behind it?”

The SQUIP raised an eyebrow and tipped its head to one side as it looked at him. “I’m programmed to delve into situations and analyze how they come to be and what results may come from them. That includes how my own code functions and grows.”

Jeremy sighed, shrugging and turning back to his desk. “You do you, I guess. Just…I dunno, I have time when I’m not working and you don’t have to worry about me. So you could find your own thing to do.”

The SQUIP appeared beside him, still looking thoughtful. “You do realize I’m in your head, right? I can’t exactly decide to meander off and go attend some crazy rave.”

Jeremy smiled sideways at him. “Maybe you can meet up with Rich’s SQUIP and have a wild party or something in cyberspace. Or you could sync with some of my game systems and run around in them. I think you secretly liked being a little hamster.”

“I did not,” it protested and Jeremy only grinned more when he felt indignant static trail down his spine. The SQUIP tutted at him and turned away. “…I’ll consider looking into doing activities that don’t align with my assignment to you. It could prove to be an interesting experiment.”

“Uh huh.”

Jeremy left it at that and got back to his homework, although he was pretty sure he wasn’t focusing quite as well as before. Was it really that strange that the SQUIP had been humming? It seemed to do a lot of things that were a bit more extra than necessary – such as that little kiss to the back of Jeremy’s hand just the day before, but Jeremy was trying not to linger on that too much because it made his stomach feel funny – but it had always explained it away as being for Jeremy’s sake. But Jeremy was starting to wonder if that was just the SQUIP trying to convince itself that everything it did had a reason behind it and that it wasn’t just doing something for the sake of doing it like a stupid human would. A SQUIP was built to learn so that it could improve itself, and it would only see something as harmless as humming a tune as it worked as a distraction or even a downgrade.

But after Jeremy had eaten dinner and returned to his room to move on to his history homework, he blinked up as he once again heard the unmistakable humming. He looked over to see the SQUIP sitting on his bed, its eyes closed and expression contemplative as it almost hesitantly hummed out the familiar notes of ‘Mr. Roboto,’ albeit slower than the actual song. But as the minutes passed, the sound got more confident and Jeremy swore he even saw a smile.

“You have a nice voice,” he complimented after a bit.

“Just because someone can carry a tune while humming doesn’t mean they can sing well, Jeremy,” was the reply he got.

But when Jeremy lay down to sleep that night, nestled under the covers, he could see the gentle tell-tale glow of the SQUIP as it sat down on the edge of the bed, just as it had that first night it had activated. It ran its fingers through Jeremy’s hair, slow and soothing, and Jeremy tipped his head slightly up into the touch as he felt himself start to drift off.

And right before he fell asleep, he thought he heard a quiet voice singing:

“Everything about you is going to be wonderful…”

#SquipJere Week 2020 #lynx tales #mine #writing #Be More Chill #BMC Jeremy Heere #BMC SQUIP #Technical Difficulties #Squipemy #Squeremy #JereSquip #SquipJere #Jeremy Heere #SQUIP #of course now i'm gonna have Mr Roboto stuck in my head even if I only actually briefly mentioned it lol #BMC #fic #fanfiction #i don't have a fancy queue tag

14 notes · View notes

betterdaysareatoenailaway · 3 years

Text

Random Review #3: Sleepwalkers (1992) and “Sleep Walk” (1959)

I. Sleepwalkers (1992) I couldn’t sleep last night so I started watching a trashy B-movie penned by Stephen King specifically for the screen called Sleepwalkers (1992). Simply put, the film is an unmitigated disaster. A piece of shit. But it didn’t need to be. That’s what’s so annoying about it. By 1992 King was a grizzled veteran of the silver screen, with more adaptations under his belt than any other author of his cohort. Puzo had the Godfather films (1972 and 1974, respectively), sure, but nothing else. Leonard Gardner had Fat City (1972), a movie I love, but Gardner got sucked into the Hollywood scene of cocaine and hot tub parties and never published another novel, focusing instead on screenplays for shitty TV shows like NYPD Blue. After Demon Seed (1977), a movie I have seen and disliked, nobody would touch Dean Koontz’s stuff with a ten foot pole, which is too bad because The Voice of the Night, a 1980 novel about two young pals, one of whom is a psychopath trying to convince the other to help him commit murder, would make a terrific movie. But Koontz’s adaptations have been uniformly awful. The made-for-TV film starring John C McGinley, 1997′s Intensity, is especially bad. There are exceptions, but Stephen King has been lucky enough to avoid the fate of his peers. Big name directors have tackled his work, from Stanley Kubrick to Brian De Palma. King even does a decent job of acting in Pet Semetary (1989), in his own Maximum Overdrive (1986) and in George Romero’s Creepshow (1982), where he plays a yokel named Jordy Verril who gets infected by a meteorite that causes green weeds to grow all over his body. Many have criticized King’s over-the-top performance in that flick, but for me King perfectly nails the campy and comical tone that Romero was going for. The dissolves in Creepshow literally come right off the pages of comics, so people expecting a subtle Ordinary People-style turn from King had clearly walked into the wrong theatre. Undoubtedly Creepshow succeeds at what it set out to do. I’m not sure Sleepwalkers succeeds though, unless the film’s goal was to get me to like cats even more than I already do. But I already love cats a great deal. Here’s my cat Cookie watching me edit this very blog post.

And here’s one of my other cats, Church, named after the cat that reanimates and creeps out Louis and Ellie in Pet Sematary. Photo by @ScareAlex.

SPOILER ALERT: Do not keep reading if you plan on watching Sleepwalkers and want to find out for yourself what happens.

Stephen King saw many of his novels get adapted in the late 1970s and 80s: Carrie, The Shining, Firestarter, Christine, Cujo, and the movie that spawned the 1950s nostalgia industrial complex, Stand By Me, but Sleepwalkers was the first time he wrote a script specifically for the screen rather than adapting a novel that already existed. Maybe that’s why it’s so fucking bad. Stephen King is a novelist, gifted with a novelist’s rich imagination. He’s prone to giving backstories to even the most peripheral characters - think of Joe Chamber’s alcoholic neighbour Gary Pervier in the novel Cujo, who King follows for an unbelievable number of pages as the man stumbles drunkenly around his house spouting his catch phrase “I don’t give a shit,” drills a hole through his phone book so he can hang it from a string beside his phone, complains about his hemorrhoids getting “as big as golfballs” (I’m not joking), and just generally acts like an asshole until a rabid Cujo bounds over, rips his throat out, and he bleeds to death. In the novel Pervier’s death takes more than a few pages, but it makes for fun reading. You hate the man so fucking much that watching him die feels oddly satisfying. In the movie, though, his death occurs pretty quickly, and in a darkened hallway, so it’s hard to see what’s going on aside from Gary’s foot trembling. And Pervier’s “I don’t give a shit” makes sense when he’s drilling a hole in the phone book, not when he’s about to be savagely attacked by a rabid St Bernard. There’s just less room for back story in movies. In a medium that demands pruning and chiseling and the “less is more” dictum, King’s writing takes a marked turn for the worse. King is a prose maximalist, who freely admits to “writing to outrageous lengths” in his novels, listing It, The Stand, and The Tommyknockers as particularly egregious examples of literary logorrhea. He is not especially equipped to write concisely. This weakness is most apparent in Sleepwalkers’ dialogue, which sounds like it was supposed to be snappy and smart, like something Aaron Sorkin would write, but instead comes off like an even worse Tango & Cash, all bad jokes and shitty puns. More on those bad jokes later. First, the plot.

Sleepwalkers is about a boy named Charles and his mother Mary who travel around the United States killing and feeding off the lifeforce of various unfortunate people (if this sounds a little like The True Knot in Doctor Sleep, you’re not wrong. But self-plagiarism is not a crime). Charles and Mary are shapeshifting werewolf-type creatures called werecats, a species with its very own Wikipedia page. Wikipedia confers legitimacy dont’cha know, so lets assume werecats are real beings. According to said page, a werecat, “also written in a hyphenated form as were-cat) is an analogy to ‘werewolf’ for a feline therianthropic creature.” I’m gonna spell it with the hyphen from now on because “werecats” just looks like a typo. Okay? Okay.

Oddly enough, the were-cats in Sleepwalkers are terrified of cats. Actual cats. For the were-cats, cute kittens = kryptonite. When they see a cat or cats plural, this happens to them:

^ That is literally a scene from the movie. Charles is speeding when a cop pulls alongside him and bellows at him to pull over. Ever the rebel, Charles flips the cop the finger. But the cop has a cat named Clovis in his car, and when the cat pops up to have a look at the kid (see below), Charles shapeshifts first into a younger boy, then into whatever the fuck that is in the above screenshot.

Now, the were-cats aversion to normal cats is confusing because one would assume a were-cat to be a more evolved (or perhaps devolved?) version of the typical house kitty. The fact that these were-cats are bipedal alone suggests an advantage over our furry four-legged friends, no? Kinda like if humans were afraid of fucking gorillas. Wait...we are scared of gorillas. And chimpanzees. And all apes really. Okay, maybe the conceit of the film isn’t so silly after all. The film itself, however, is about as silly as a bad horror movie can get. When the policeman gets back to precinct and describes the incident above (”his face turned into a blur”) he is roundly ridiculed because in movies involving the supernatural nobody believes in the supernatural until it confronts them. It’s the law, sorry. Things don’t end well for the cop. Or for the guy who gets murdered when the mom stabs him with...an ear of corn. Yes, an ear of corn. Somehow, the mother is able to jam corn on the cob through a man’s body, without crushing the vegetable or turning it into yellow mash. It’s pretty amazing. Here is a sample of dialog from that scene: Cop About To Die On The Phone to Precinct: There’s blood everywhere! *STAB* Murderous Mother: No vegetables, no dessert. That is actually a line in the movie. “No vegetables, no dessert.” It’s no “let off some steam, Bennett” but it’s close. Told ya I’d get back to the bad jokes. See, Mary and Charles are new in town and therefore seeking to ingratiate themselves by killing everyone who suspects them of being weird, all while avoiding cats as best they can. At one point Charles yanks a man’s hand off and tells him to "keep [his] hands to [him]self," giving the man back his severed bloody hand. Later on Charles starts dating a girl who will gradually - and I do mean gradually - come to realize her boyfriend is not a real person but in fact a were-cat. Eventually our spunky young protagonist - Madchen Amick, who fans of Twin Peaks will recognize as Shelly - and a team of cats led by the adorable Clovis- kill the were-cat shapeshifting things and the sleepy small town (which is named Travis for some reason) goes back to normal, albeit with a slightly diminished population. For those keeping score, that’s Human/Cat Alliance 1, Shapeshifting Were-cats 0. It is clear triumph for the felis catus/people team! Unless we’re going by kill count, in which case it is closer to Human/Cat Alliance 2, Were-cats 26. I arrived at this figure through my own notes but also through a helpful video that takes a comprehensive and complete “carnage count” of all kills in Sleepwalkers: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vmt-DroK6uA

II. Santo & Johnny “Sleep Walk” (1959) Because Sleepwalkers is decidedly not known for its good acting or its well-written screenplay, it is perhaps best known for its liberal and sometimes contrapuntal use of Santo & Johnny’s classic steel guitar song “Sleep Walk,” possibly the most famous (and therefore best) instrumental of the 20th century. Some might say “Sleep Walk” is tied for the #1 spot with “Green Onions” by Booker T & the M.G.’s and/or “Wipe Out” by The Surfaris, but I disagree. The Santo & Johnny song is #1 because of its incalculable influence on all subsequent popular music.

I’m not saying “Wipe Out” didn't inspire a million imitators, both contemporaneously and even decades later…for example here’s a surf rock instrumental from 1999 called “Giant Cow" by a Toronto band called The Urban Surf Kings. The video was one of the first to be animated using Flash (and it shows):

youtube

So there are no shortage of surf rock bands, even now, decades after its emergence from the shores of California to the jukeboxes of Middle America. My old band Sleep for the Nightlife used to regularly play Rancho Relaxo with a surf rock band called the Dildonics, who I liked a great deal. There's even a Danish surf rock band called Baby Woodrose, whose debut album is a favourite of mine. They apparently compete for the title of Denmark’s biggest surf pop band with a group called The Setting Son. When a country that has no surfing culture and no beaches has multiple surf rock bands, it is safe to say the genre has attained international reach. As far as I can tell, there aren’t many bands out there playing Booker T & the M.G.’s inspired instrumental rock. Link Wray’s “Rumble” was released four years before “Green Onions.” But the influence of Santo and Johnny’s “Sleep Walk” is so ubiquitous as to be almost immeasurable. The reason for this is the sheer popularity of the song’s chord progression. If Santo and Johnny hadn’t written it first, somebody else would have, simply because the progression is so beautiful and easy on the ears and resolvable in a satisfying way. Have a listen to “Sleep Walk” first and then let’s check out some songs it directly inspired.

youtube

The chords are C, A minor, F and G. Minor variations sometimes reverse the last two chords, but if it begins with C to A minor, you can bet it’s following the “Sleep Walk” formula, almost as if musicians influenced by the song are in the titular trance. When it comes to playing guitar, Tom Waits once said “your hands are like dogs, going to the same places they’ve been. You have to be careful when playing is no longer in the mind but in the fingers, going to happy places. You have to break them of their habits or you don’t explore; you only play what is confident and pleasing.” Not only is it comforting to play and/or hear what we already know, studies have shown that our brains actively resist new music, because it takes work to understand the new information and assimilate it into a pattern we are cogent of. It isn’t until the brain recognizes the pattern that it gives us a dopamine rush. I’m not much for Pitchfork anymore, but a recent article they posted does a fine job of discussing this phenomenon in greater detail.

Led Zeppelin’s “D’Yer Maker” uses the “Sleep Walk” riff prominently, anchored by John Bonham and John Paul Jones’ white-boy reggae beat:

youtube

Here it is again with Del Shannon’s classic “Little Town Flirt.” I love Shannon’s falsetto at the end when he goes “you better run and hide now bo-o-oy.”

youtube

The Beatles “Happiness is a Warm Gun” uses the Sleep Walk progression, though not for the whole song. It goes into the progression at the bridge at 1:34:

youtube

Tumblr won’t let me embed any more videos, so you’ll to travel to another tab to hear these songs, but Neil Young gets in on the act with his overlooked classic “Winterlong:” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RV6r66n3TFI On their 1996 EP Interstate 8 Modest Mouse pay direct homage by singing over their own rendition of the original Santo & Johnny version, right down to the weeping steel guitar part: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VT_PwXjCqqs The vocals are typical wispy whispered indie rock vocals, but I think they work, particularly the two different voices. They titled their version “Sleepwalking (Couples Only Dance Prom Night).”

Dwight Yoakam’s “Thousand Miles From Nowhere” makes cinematic use of it. This song plays over the credits of one of my all-time favourite movies, 1993′s Red Rock West feat. Nicolas Cage, Lara Flynn Boyle, Dennis Hopper, and J.T. Walsh https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Tu3ypuKq8WE

“39″ is my favourite Queen song. I guess now I know why. It uses my fav chord progression: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kE8kGMfXaFU

Blink 182 scored their first hit “Dammit” with a minor variation on the Sleep Walk chord progression: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sT0g16_LQaQ

Midwest beer drinkin bar rockers Connections scored a shoulda-been-a-hit with the fist-pumping “Beat the Sky:” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YSNRq0n_WYA You’d be hard pressed to find a weaker lead singer than this guy (save for me, natch), but they make it work. This one’s an anthem.

Spoon, who have made a career out of deconstructing rock n’ roll, so that their songs sometimes sound needlessly sparse (especially “The Ghost of You Lingers,” which takes minimalism to its most extreme...just a piano being bashed on staccato-style for four minutes), so it should surprise nobody that they re-arrange the Sleep Walk chords on their classic from Gimme Fiction, “I Summon You:” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=teXA8N3aF9M I love that opening line: remember the weight of the world was a sound that we used to buy? I think songwriter Britt Daniel is talking about buying albums from the likes of Pearl Jam or Smashing Pumpkins, any of those grunge bands with pessimistic worldviews. There are a million more examples. I remember seeing some YouTube video where a trio of gross douchebros keep playing the same progression while singing a bunch of hits over it. I don’t like the smarmy way they do it, making it seem like artists are lazy and deliberately stealing. I don’t think it’s plagiarism to use this progression. And furthermore, tempo and production make all the difference. Take “This Magic Moment” for example. There's a version by Jay & the Americans and one by Ben E King & the Drifters. I’ve never been a fan of those shrieking violins or fiddles that open the latter: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bacBKKgc4Uo The Jay & the Americans version puts the guitar riff way in the forefront, which I like a lot more. The guitar plays the entire progression once before the singing starts and the band joins in: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pKfASw6qoag

Each version has its own distinctive feel. They are pretty much two different songs. Perhaps the most famous use of the Sleep Walk progression is “Unchained Melody” by the Righteous Brothers, which is one of my favourite songs ever. The guy who chose to let Bobby Hatfield sing this one by himself must have kicked himself afterwards when it became a hit, much bigger than "You've Lost That Lovin' Feeling."https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qiiyq2xrSI0

What can you say about “Unchained Melody” that hasn’t already been said? God, that miraculously strong vocal, the way the strings (and later on, brass horns) are panned way over to the furthest reaches the left speaker while the drums and guitar are way over in the right, with the singing smack dab in the middle creates a kind of distance and sharp clarity that has never been reproduced in popular music, like seeing the skyscrapers of some distant city after an endless stretch of highway. After listening to “Unchained Melody,” one has to wonder: can that progression ever be improved upon? Can any artist write something more haunting, more beautiful, more uplifting than that? The “need your love” crescendo hits so fucking hard, as both the emotional and the sonic climax of the song, which of course is no accident...the strings descending and crashing like a waterfall of sound, it gets me every fucking time. Legend has it that King George II was so moved by the “Hallelujah” section of Handel’s “Messiah” that he stood up, he couldn't help himself, couldn't believe what he was hearing. I get that feeling with all my favourite songs. "1979." "Unchained Melody." "In The Still of the Night." "Digital Bath." "Why Does My Heart Feel So Bad?" "Interstate." "Liar's Tale." “Gimme Shelter.” The list goes on and on. Music is supposed to move us.

King George II stood because he was moved to do so. Music may be our creation, but it isn't our subordinate. All those sci-fi stories warning about technology growing beyond our control aren’t that far-fetched. Music is our creation but its power lies beyond our control. We are subordinate to music, helpless against its power and might, its urgency and vitality and beauty. There have been many times in my life when I have been so obsessed with a particular song that I pretty much want to live inside of it forever. A house of sound. I remember detoxing from heroin and listening to Grimes “Realiti” on repeat for twelve hours. Detoxing from OxyContin and listening to The Beach Boys “Dont Worry Baby” over and over. Or just being young and listening to “Tonight Tonight” over and over and over, tears streaming from my eyes in that way you cry when you’re a kid because you just feel so much and you don’t know what to do with the intensity of those feelings. It is precisely because we are so moved by music that we keep creating it. And in the act of that creation we are free. There are no limits to that freedom, which is why bands time and time again return to the well-worn Sleep Walk chord progression and try to make something new from it. Back in 2006, soon after buying what was then the new Yeah Yeah Yeahs album, I found myself playing the album’s closing track over and over. I loved the chorus and I loved the way it collapses into a lo-fi demo at the very end, stripping away the studio sheen and...not to be too punny, showing its bones (the album title is Show Your Bones). Later on I would realize that the song, called “Turn Into,” uses the Sleep Walk chord progression. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=exqCFoPiwpk

It’s just like, what Waits said, our hands goes to where we are familiar. And so do our ears, which is why jazz often sounds so unpleasant to us upon first listen. Or Captain Beefheart. But it’s worth the effort to discover new stuff, just as it’s worth the effort to try and write it. I recently lamented on this blog that music to me now is more about remembrance than discovery, but I’m still only 35 years old. I’m middle-aged right now (I don’t expect to live past 70, not with the lifestyle I’ve been living). There’s still a whole other half life to find new music and love and leave it for still newer stuff. It’s worth the challenge, that moment of inner resistance we feel when confronted with something new and challenging and strange sounding. The austere demands of adult life, rent and routine, take so much of our time. I still make time for creative pursuits, but I don’t really have much time for discovery, for seeking out new music. But I’ve resolved to start making more time. A few years ago I tried to listen to and like Trout Mask Replica but I couldn’t. I just didn’t get what was going on. It sounded like a bunch of mistakes piled on top of each other. But then a few days ago I was writing while listening to music, as I always do, and YouTube somehow landed on Lick My Decals Off, Baby. I didn’t love what I was hearing but I was intrigued enough to keep going. And now I really like this song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EMnd9dvb3sA&pbjreload=101 Another example I’ll give is the rare Robert Pollard gem “Prom Is Coming.” The first time I heard this song, it sounded like someone who can’t play guitar messing around, but the more I heard it the more I realized there’s a song there. It’s weird and strange, but it’s there. The lyrics are classic Pollard: Disregard injury and race madly out of the universe by sundown. Pollard obviously has a special place in his heart for this track. He named one of his many record labels Prom Is Coming Records and he titled the Boston Spaceships best-of collection Out of the Universe By Sundown. I don’t know if I’ll ever become a Captain Beefheart megafan but I can hear that the man was doing something very strange and, at times, beautiful. And anyway, why should everything be easy? Aren’t some challenges worth meeting for the experience waiting on the other side of comprehension or acceptance? I try to remember this now whenever I’m first confronted with new music, instead of vetoing it right away. Most of my favourite bands I was initially resistant to when I first heard them. Queens of the Stone Age, Kyuss, Guided by Voices, Spoon, Heavy Times. All bands I didn’t like at first. I don’t wanna sleepwalk through life, surrounding myself only with things I have already experienced. I need to stay awake. Because soon enough I’ll be asleep forever. We need to try everything we can before the Big Sleep comes to take us back to the great blankness, the terrible question mark that bookends our lives.

#sleep walk #santo & johnny #neil young #queen #dwight yoakam #led zeppelin #the beatles #betterdaysareatoenailaway

3 notes · View notes

spiritualgravity · 4 years

Text

Spiritual Gravity

The first time I can recall hearing from a spirit is going on 20 years ago while at the gym. I was on the treadmill, early in the morning, stomping away in order to clock a few miles.

Walking at a fairly fast pace, and slowly inching up the incline, while simultaneously holding on for both dear life and onto the handle bars in hopes of not falling backwards…I attempted to skim a magazine.

There was an article about breast cancer awareness in the publication, and suddenly I had the presence of my maternal grandfather with me.

He passed away when I was 8-years-old; I only have a handful of memories of him because we did not live close by.

It was the very first time in my life when I literally knew a spirit was with me, and still, even today, I find it hard to explain this experience as well as all of them that would later happen over the next two decades.

It was as if he appeared out of no where; I didn’t physically see him, but just knew it was him. I was taken back, and quietly in my mind acknowledged him.

“Hi, hello. Umm, did you want to tell me something?”

We went back and forth — him showing me visualizations, as well as audible messages all for my sister, Christine. The messages had to do with urging her to get a mammogram, which I later found out, she had been putting off. He told me that there was nothing alarmingly wrong, but that she needed to be diligent about that screening.

There are several types of ‘mental mediumship’ abilities, ways to communicate with spirit, i.e. souls who are no longer in their physical bodies. I have clairvoyance and clairaudient abilities.

We are spirtual beings having a human experience.

Clairvoyance is the ability to see a spirit or images (I only see images in my mind’s eye…well, until recently I physically saw spirit for the first time, but I’ll get back to that story later) that are sent telepathically by a spirit. The word has roots in two French words: clair (clear) and voir (to see), so clairvoyance means “clear seeing.”

According to the book, Where Two Worlds Meet, the most common way mediums see clairvoyantly is through subjective clairvoyance, which is much like the way we see things in our imagination, as mental images.

Clairaudience is when mediums ‘hear’ messages from spirit. For me personally, I don’t literally hear voices — no one is shouting at me from across the room — the messages come across like my own thoughts, but they’re not mine.

For as long as I can remember, I’ve been sensitive. And for most of that time, I considered this a flaw. As a teenager, my Mother used to encourage me to “stop taking on others’ drama or issues.” Like a good Mother, she was trying to protect me. I have always tried to be a good listener, and do whatever I can to help loved ones feel better by showing empathy, sometimes to a fault.

Actually, it was pretty much always to a fault.

I’m currently in the middle of reading Glennon Doyle’s latest book, Untamed, and I had an ah-ha moment when she shared an insightful sentiment about being a sensitive person. She spelled out that the opposite of being sensitive is being insensitive, and that’s - well - a terrible thing to be! I finally realized, at the age of 40, my sensitivity is an amazing gift.

There have been countless stories and circumstances of serendipity over my lifetime. I oftentimes know things before they actually happen. I have hunches, I have feelings, or I just…know. It turns out that all mediums are also psychics, but not all psychics are mediums.

One lovely happenstance of divine intervention was learning about and virtually meeting Dougall Fraser 10 years ago, a renowned psychic and life coach who lives in Los Angeles. While working at a pet products company at the time and handling their public relations, Dougall’s manager and husband David contacted me for a raffle giveaway to be used on Dougall’s radio show. We hit it off, became virtual friends, and I’ve been following Dougall’s work ever since. He can see and feel people’s auras. I’ve easily taken at least six of his remote classes, and one in particular was eye opening for me. His class, Empowering the Empath, helped me to learn how to protect my own energy (empaths are like sponges and can inadvertently taken on other’s energy).

Light worker. Empath. Healer.

There are many, many names to identify people like me.

I haven’t publicized or publicly shared my ability to communicate with spirit, probably because I didn’t want to be judged. Only closest friends and family know this (very important) part of my life. I try to live my life with integrity, to share my authentic self, and believe that being vulnerable is absolutely beautiful.

As the years go on, this ability to connect with spirits has become stronger and stronger, and that is because I have become more spiritually grounded and connected with my higher Self. I am a sucker for metaphors and one that I’ve used for a long time to explain this ability is an antenna. When I am practicing self-care, prayer, and in a chronic state of gratitude, my antenna is sky high and consequently hear from spirit more often.

Last night I was on a Zoom meeting with yet another renowned light worker who is also a medium, James Van Praagh. During that experience, I felt an unrelenting nudge to share my ability with the world.

I had no idea why now, all I knew was I’ve come to trust this voice inside of me and I was going to listen to it.

There was a tiny bit of hesitation as I was getting ready to hit “post” on my Facebook page, sharing this secret ability that I’ve kept close to me for half of my life. Not because I thought anyone would judge me (thankfully, I’ve overcome the tragedy of deeply caring what people think of me), but because it would mean I would need to become code red vulnerable, more than I’ve ever been before.

At this point I am not giving readings as a profession. But I’ve also learned to never say never — my heart feels that I needed to come out of the spiritual closet in order to move my life’s greater work forward, which is ultimately and simply to help people.

Several years back, I met a gal who would quickly become my spiritual mentor, Karen. She is a reiki master and a medium. She is truly gifted and has influenced my life in a number of ways. In fact, she is responsible for the title of this blog. During one of my reiki (i.e. energy healing & balancing) sessions, and sharing messages that she received from spirit for me, Karen said,

“You are the sun.”

I feel, in the depths of my being, that I’m on this planet, in this lifetime, to spread light — so that message made perfect sense.

I’m currently in something known as a ‘small circle’ that Karen put together. It means that a small group of people meet every few weeks and we learn from each other — practice healing exercises with one another, we do group meditations, balance our energy fields, and much more. We’ve continued to meet remotely since the pandemic quarantine hit over two months ago and I’m forever grateful for this small circle of like-minded men and women.

After I shared my truth on Facebook last night, a friend asked me what the experience has been like for me — how did this evolution of my gift happen — and is what ultimately prompted me to write this blog post. Since reading that inquiry, I’ve been flooded with memories.

Memories of random spirits coming through while I’m innocently enjoying myself while out to dinner with a group of friends, and friends of friends.

“Hi, I know you don’t know me and we just met, but I have to share something with you. I think your Mother is here in spirit.”

Memories of workshops, classes, seminars, group readings, and beach meditation retreats that I’ve attended. Reading Born Knowing, Intuitive Studies, Where Two Worlds Meet, But You Knew That Already, and many more books about this private piece of me, to better understand it all.

Having the ability to communicate with spirit is like knowing how to speak a language, but you don’t actually remember learning how to speak it. You just, speak that language.

Historically, spirit has come through when I’m in an altered state of consciousness. In the shower or taking a bath, working out at the gym, on a walk, or after a few glasses of wine. When we are fully conscious and awake, our brains emit waves of electrical energy that are very different when meditating or sleeping. In normal, awake consciousness, we are in Beta mode — exterior stimuli dominate our thoughts. It involves solving problems, thinking, and taking action.

To connect with spirit, we need to at least be in Alpha mode, or even Theta. You’ve probably entered Alpha mode without even realizing it. Think about a time when you’ve been driving a car, pulled up at home, and then realized you don’t quite remember the last few miles of driving. Thankfully, our subconscious mind kept the car in the correct lane and took the proper turns to make it home, until the conscious mind returned to the wheel.

This explains why I rarely ever remember messages from spirit. When they come through, it feels like I’m dreaming, but still awake. I will scribble down notes as I get messages because I know, otherwise, there is no way I’ll remember them in order to convey to the intended recipient.

Spirits always come to me, without invitation. I’ve only intentionally tried to connect with a spirit proactively one time a few years back. A friend of a friend, who became an acquaintance of mine, wanted to connect with her grandmother. Our mutual friend suggested that maybe I could try...so I figured it was time to take off my training wheels and give it a go.

Before she even arrived at my house, her grandmother was already coming through and showing me signs. My mentor / guru Karen gave me some prayers and intentions to say prior to the “medium sitting” and I felt very comfortable with the experience. But, I haven’t done anything like that since then.

As time has passed and I’ve had countless experiences connecting with spirits, it’s been easier for me to make that connection. My antenna is up, and has evidently stayed up, as my own soul has expanded and grown.

So much so, just last week a spirit appeared to me while I was in my bedroom, hanging out with my daughter after she woke up from her nap. I looked up and in an instant, saw a spirit (remember, I don’t normally see anyone, I just feel their presence). It was a man. It happened so fast, that I was completely in a state of shock. My jaw was literally dropped and I stared into space, trying to wrap my head around what just happened.

Because I typically have to be in a super relaxed state of mind (note: quarantined with a two-year-old is not conducive to a relaxed state of mind), I was mostly surprised that someone could even get my attention while I was totally distracted. The second reason I was picking my open mouth up off the floor was the fact that I literally saw a man.

Once I got a grip and accepted the fact this just happened, I asked him,

“Hi, hello. Umm…who are you?”

And just like that, the exact same sequence unfolded as it did 20 years ago with my Grandfather.

I knew who it was instantly.

The man was my friend, John, who tragically died in a car accident when I was in high school.

Mind you, I haven’t thought about him for a very, very long time.

And just like every other connection that spirit makes with me, I started to hear messages from him, as well as see visuals in my mind’s eye — scenes played out that depicted what the silent messages were conveying. The messages were for his girlfriend at the time of his death. Now, I need to track her down and make the awkward, but important phone call.

Growing up in a strict Catholic household, hearing directly from spirit was never in the playbook for my life. Praying was seemingly a one-way street — I would make requests, give thanks, and have a one-way conversation with my guardian angels, God, His son, and His tribe of saints. But God had other plans for me, to make this journey on planet Earth a two-way street of conversations, and I’m grateful to be a conduit for spreading love beyond the stars.

A consistent message that I’ve been given for my life, is that in order for me to accelerate and fully utilize this gift, I would need to stop taking on and carrying other’s pain — that has been my spiritual gravity barrier, holding me down. I’ve been working really hard on overcoming that hurdle for quite some time, from learning how to meditate, learning how to forgive those who have hurt me, and learning to energetically protect myself — and now, I’m finally ready to turn up the sunshine.

#sunshine #medium #mediumship #love #lovewins #clairvoyant #Psychic #self love #spiritual #lightworker #healer #energy #reiki

20 notes · View notes

candyheartharry · 5 years

Text

Go Your Own Way - Part 2

Guess what’s back! Part 1 to Go Your Own Way can be found here, ((which as stated previously is based off a tweet I once say for a Mamma Mia!-esque movie using Fleetwood Mac songs and starring Harry)) this one is the playlist for the series, and once again please let me know what you think!!! The word count for this part is just a little over 3k and once again here’s a brief summary of the series 💕The film of the same name stars Harry as our lead, who on screen is the frontman of an up and coming band called The Silk Roses in the mid-70′s, while our female lead (who also wrote and directed the film) plays his not-so-obvious love interest when she joins the band singing background vocals at the suggestion of the band’s guitarist who met her through her brother. During the day she manages the record shop her father had started, while her brother runs a recording studio out of the back where The Silk Roses recorded their early demos. Off camera, Harry and the main character have become close friends, and sometimes acting as someone’s love interest can be hard to drop when the cameras aren’t rolling.

“You really don’t have to go out of your way like this just for me,” she tried to plead with Harry in the kitchen of his New York City apartment, perched on a chair at the island while he tapped away on his phone, sending a few last minute emails to try to work a little Harry Styles magic before the movie premiere later that evening.

“It’s seriously the least I could do, and it’s not even going out of my way! Look at me! I’m in my own kitchen! I’m wearing slippers!” he replied dramatically gesturing to his feet, where he was indeed wearing a pair of soft pink slippers to accompany his silk robe, grey sweatpants, and white t-shirt ensemble. She may or may not be wearing a similar ensemble, since she may or may not be wearing his clothes after having may or may not have fallen asleep on his couch the night before after they went back to his place after going out to dinner.

They had gotten a little carried away with one of their never ending conversations they were so good at getting lost in while sitting on the floor of his living room and doing a puzzle on his coffee table, and suddenly it was two a.m. and she found herself fighting to stay awake on the couch while he was sat opposite of her, their legs stretched out to meet in the middle, even though his were nearly too long to do so comfortably.

At least, she had fallen asleep the night before on the couch, but when she woke to sunlight coming through the window, she realized she was suddenly in a bed in Harry’s guest room, which he must have carried her to at one point while she was asleep.

Now, with just about ten hours before the movie premiere, Harry was sending emails back and forth with Radio City Music Hall’s head of events staff to see if they would be able to book an extra lounge room space at the venue to set up a small stage and perform a few songs from the movie since he now knew for sure that Mick Fleetwood and both Christine and John McVie would be able to come.

“I personally think it would be pretty fucking cool if we got to sing with them, plus I know they’d love it. Mick was actually under the impression there’d be some sort of performance going on during the after party in the first place, so I can promise you, this is seriously not any trouble at all, just please let me do this for you and also because I want to for me, too,” Harry replied after he put his phone down, placing his hands on the counter and leaning across to her just a little closer.

She knows there’s no stopping him once his mind is made up, especially when he thinks it’s over something nice. She really thinks all this is to make up for not hearing back from Stevie, even though other members of the band can come, it looks like she’d be stuck with prior commitments that kept her in Los Angeles for the time being. To avoid getting her heart broken over Stevie not coming, she decided to change the subject, hoping the next topic won’t break her heart either.

“So have you got a date for the evening?” she asked before she took a sip of her orange juice he had set out with their breakfast, knowing it’s best to be prepared to expect him showing up with someone rather than be caught off guard by it when she sees someone she doesn’t know on his arm later on in the night. He shrugged and took a sip of some juice concoction he blended a little earlier before he replies. “Depends on if she says yes or not, we’ll see.”

Although she was the one who asked in the first place, it still made her a little jealous. She never meant to get a little possessive over her costar, after all they had only met because of the movie, it wasn’t as if they were friends beforehand. Admittedly, she catches feelings much too fast, so she knew it was a dangerous game to play Harry’s love interest in a film and expect to not have some sort of fraction of feelings for him. Was she really just expected to act as if she loved and cared about him, and then just go back to normal life? Maybe a trained actress could do the same, sure, but she was both a writer and hopeless romantic. With Harry she couldn’t really tell if it was a proper crush, or she was just jealous that some of the affection she had seen he was capable of were reserved for someone who wasn’t her. Either way, she tried to collect her thoughts and think of something to say while she spread more strawberry jam on a slice of toast, but luckily he kept the conversation going so that she didn’t have to.

“So we’ll have to come up with a set list I suppose, probably good to have a few options and then see what John, Mick, and Christine are up for. I was thinking we could do Sara, obviously The Chain, I Don’t Want To Know, and Dreams if those are good with you?” He took the time to add a little more strawberry cream cheese to his own bagel as he asked the question, to which she nodded and hummed a response around a mouthful of toast.

“Just might have a surprise for you later by the way,” he continued smugly, adding just the slightest shimmy of his hips over the delight that he knew something she didn’t, and also over the delight of knowing how much she hated knowing about surprises. She replied with an exasperated groan just as he knew she would, “Couldn’t you have just surprised me instead of telling me you’re going to surprise me?! Wouldn’t that have made so much more sense?!”

“Might’ve made sense, but wouldn’t have been any fun for me, now would it?” he teased with a smirk, to which she rolled her eyes and wanted to kick him in the knees. “Anyways, I’d better get going, I should start getting ready soon. Thank you for breakfast and letting me sleep in your guest room. I’ll be there early to do a couple red carpet interviews, since I ya know, wrote it and starred in it and all, so I’ll see you once you get there, I guess,” she replied as she took her dishes to the sink to clean up.

“Oooh, look at you Miss Triple Threat, are you nervous?” he said with a playful bump of his hip against hers while he rinsed his own dishes in the sink next to her. He had noticed she had been fidgety all morning, and assumed it was nerves starting to get to her. “I should be fine once I get into the swing of things. I’ll feel better once I’ve got other people with me and the rest of the cast is there, so please come find me once you get there so I don’t have to be by myself too long,” she admitted, resting her hip against the counter once she turned to face him.

“You’re going to do amazing, you’ll hardly even notice when I’m not there. I’ll come find you first chance I get, I promise. Want me to go ahead and call you a car?” he offered as he wrapped one arm around her shoulders to give her a reassuring hug, placing a gentle kiss to the top of her head. She nodded a yes even though she didn’t really want to leave, resting her cheek on his shoulder as he soothingly rubbed her back.

The two of them remained there like that for a moment by the counter, before he then picked up his phone off the counter behind them to call for her ride, sending a quick text to his driver before sliding his phone in his pocket and wrapping his now free hand around her to hold her a little tighter. “I’ll be fine once I’m there, I don’t know what I’m so nervous for ahead of time,” she confided in him, knowing she would feel more comfortable by his side in front of all the cameras and lights like she does right now in the peacefulness of his kitchen. He was a seasoned professional, and while she knew what to expect, she would have a significantly larger amount of attention on her this evening than she was used to. Sure, she’d been to premieres for projects she had written or directed or even acted in before, but this particular project had felt almost like her baby, and while she was extremely proud of it, she really just wanted everyone else to love it as much as she did.

“I wish I could just sleep in your guest room all day until it’s time to go, I don’t want to be awake and be nervous, I just want to get this started, the wait is going to drive me insane,” she rambled, still pressed tightly to his chest as he continued to rub her back. He pulled back a little for second and looked down at her with a confused look on his face. “My guest room?” he inquired, resulting in her expression matching his, but suddenly a wave of realization hit her, and she gently shoved his arm over what she thinks she’s come to the conclusion that he had done.

“Harry, stop it, did you let me kick you out of your own room so I could sleep in your bed? Tell me that I woke up in your guest room,” she continued. He held onto her a little tighter as she tried to squirm away, making her even more flustered at his kindness towards her.

“Please, you think I’d elect to sleep on my couch when I’ve got a movie premiere the next morning?” he teased. “You didn’t kick me in your sleep and you never snored, but you did try to hold my hand and your fingers were really cold. You just seemed so exhausted so I couldn’t just leave you on the couch. Best blankets are on my bed,” he shrugged like it was no big deal, although to her it was a Very Big Deal and she probably wouldn’t stop thinking about it and kicking herself for having a chance to share a bed with her attractive costar that she couldn’t tell if she had a crush on and not remember anything about it because she was asleep. They had taken naps on set together wherever they had a spot to fall asleep during late night shoots so sleeping near him wasn’t the problem, it was the idea of being in his bed in his room, and not even realizing it. “Harry Styles, you are entirely too much.”

A notification buzzed on his phone, which he retrieved from his pocket to read, letting her know his car is waiting for her whenever she was ready to leave for her own hotel room she had reserved nearby. She took a moment to collect her things from the night before, slipping back into his bedroom to change into her own clothes again. Earlier when he was trying to convince her to spend time with him before the premiere once they both were in New York she had teased him that there were bound to be more rumors they were dating, and now here she was about to leave his apartment in the same clothes she had worn the night before. Even though she knew it was extremely unlikely that anyone would see her leaving, she still personally hated the idea of what people might think, so once she was half dressed in her own clothes and still wearing his shirt he offered for her to sleep in, she called out to him in the hallway. “Harry, I’m going to steal your shirt for the day, I’ll give it back later, okay?”

He appeared at the other end of the hall from the kitchen, his hands shoved in the pockets of his robe. “Just a couple weeks ago you didn’t want to go to dinner with me because you were worried people would think we were together, now you want to leave my apartment wearing my clothes?” he teased.

“Look, it’s either I leave wearing your clothes, or I leave in the clothes I wore the night before, and honestly, I’m not fond of either option! Plus if I take just a white shirt, it could belong to literally anybody so I should be fine.”

“What, you don’t want to wear a tour shirt with my face on it to give people something to talk about at the premiere tonight?” he replied with a smirk, making her once again roll her eyes as she leaned against the doorframe.

“No, Harry, I really do not,” she replied, trying to sound annoyed even though she couldn’t help but smile. She turned away to walk back into his bedroom before he had the chance to think of another reply, going to fold the pants he loaned to her to sleep in and placing the folded pair on the foot of his bed. Now that she knew it was actually his room and not just his spare guest bedroom, she didn’t know how she could’ve made the mistake in the first place. Personal touches of him were all over if you looked in the right place. A jewelry box with his collection of rings was on top of his dresser, there were a total of three different vanilla cashmere candles in different places around the room, and a small assortment of journals and novels were lined up along the shelf at the bottom of the nightstand by the bed. In the corner of the room a jacket was thrown over a chair, one she recognized from a memory long ago when she first met him in a studio in London when he came in for his very first audition. She hadn’t seen that specific jacket in ages, and it took her a moment for the memory to come back to her, but once she placed where she recognized it from, she was instantly taken back to a rainy afternoon sitting at a table with a casting director when she saw Harry walk in for the first time and introduce himself.

When his agent had been in touch to express his interest in her film, she had been floored to say the least. She knew she had to be objective, and judge his audition the same as anyone else’s, but she would’ve been lying if she were to say Harry wasn’t her first choice before even seeing him read for the role. If she really had to think about it, and narrow it down to one specific moment that made her thoughts and feelings towards him begin to blur the lines of professional and attracted to him, it was likely the moment he walked into the room and shook everyone’s hands at his audition. Something about taking his hand and meeting his eyes for that very first moment drew her in, she knew being professional might be challenging, which she now knew for sure how challenging that would be.

Something about seeing that jacket from that very first time she met him had triggered another realization in her as well. Something about it made her realize how long ago that day really was and how far this project had come along, making her also very sad that this was almost all over. This project she had been working for years on was about to belong to not just her anymore, but the whole world. It was a special moment when it first belonged to the cast and crew as well, but finally having it out in the world seemed very surreal and bittersweet.

“Snooping through my things?” Her thoughts were interrupted by Harry showing up in the doorway, leaning against the frame very similar to how she had been just a few moments before.

“Do you ever get a little sad when you release music?” she asked once she turned around to face him after she heard his voice.

“I don’t really know if I would say sad, but it is kind of intimidating I would say,” he replied with a shrug of his shoulders.

“It kind of just hit me that this project won’t be just mine anymore after this, and really it hasn’t been just mine for a long time, and I don’t know, it just made me kind of sad, I guess,” she shrugged herself, shaking her head in attempts to clear her thoughts. She collected her things after glancing around the room to make sure she wasn’t leaving anything behind and met him in the doorway.

He walked her down the hall and took the elevator with her down to the garage, opening the car door for her with a quick kiss to her cheek before she slid inside. “I’ll come find you later, you’re going to be just fine. We’ll have a moment to rehearse before we perform with the band later tonight, I’ve got it squared away so I’ll just pull you away from your adoring fans so we can get ready to sing for them. Sound good?” he asked, to which she nodded a yes before he gave her hand a quick squeeze and closed the car door.

When he started to walk back towards the elevators she rolled down the window and called out to get his attention. “Don’t think I forgot about whatever surprise you just couldn’t wait to tell me about! It better be good!”

He smiled and gave a quick wave as the car starts to pull away. “Don’t worry, you’re gonna love it!” Harry was quite good at pulling strings, and she was about to find out just how good at it he could be.

#actor!harry #harry styles #harry styles fic #harry one shot #harry styles one shot #harry series #harry styles series #fleetwood mac #vintage harry #harry imagine #harry styles imagine #writing #styles #go your own way #70s harry #actor!harry fic #harry fic

78 notes · View notes

skyler-bane · 4 years

Text

I. Leaving

Up went the sun. All the trees, sidewalks, and cars’ roofs seemed even brighter, still glistening with yesterday’s rain. Another warm morning in New York has just welcomed the residents. But would it be absolutely normal for everyone? Would an undisturbed daily routine be meant for everyone today?

The walls turned painfully white as the first sunrays peered through the window – now one could also notice how empty they looked; no pictures or photographs, but minimalistic interiors had been pretty common for such a long time it wouldn’t make anyone question the owner’s taste. A large sofa had been waiting for so long to welcome any guests if they ever visited this place, there was a desk, along with some blue rug that looked exceptionally soft. A few shelves with books and CDs on them. Nothing more. No item found on the desk looked strange either and yet, it still didn’t seem to belong to a regular citizen, somehow. If one wanted to know why this room looked rather out of ordinary, the answer could be a couple of weird devices nobody but their owner knew what they were for.

And there he was; having fallen asleep so gracefully, with his cheek pressed against the keyboard, Skyler Bane had proudly managed to get his 4-or-so hours of sleep. Feeling how bad his back hurt, he let out a sigh and tried to make his position a bit more comfortable, slowly getting used to the brightness too. “Well, haven’t you mastered this trick…”, he muttered, blinking fast – still too much sun. But coffee wasn’t going to make itself and magically appear on the desk with a lovely “Drink Me” label… At least Skyler’s last commission wasn’t going to bother him anymore and could be classified as finished, a few days before the deadline. This should bring that… low quality sleep to an end, and hopefully the whites of Skyler’s eyes, along with his transparent and disturbingly grayish tone of skin would stop screaming ‘workaholic’. He finally managed to raise himself from the chair and head straight to the kitchen, where he looked outside the window. New York, how could these all people be so awake, smiling, and full of energy?

Skyler had moved to New York so many years ago, he couldn’t even imagine living in any other city now and every single time he actually tried to envision this move, that imaginary city looked… just like NYC. And 'moved'…? No, not really. He’d been brought to this city by his parents, straight from London where he’d spent his first 6 years of life. Not long enough for any strong bonds or friendships to be missed once they crossed the Manhattan Bridge, yet long enough to say his situation was rather difficult and… unappealing. No child would like to find themselves so far from their parents after all, not even with the loveliest grandparents as their new companions and guardians. New York was where Skyler had come to terms with what his parents had done to him, where his grandparents had managed to show him that the world wasn’t as rotten as it seemed to the little boy. But the reason he’d decided to stay in the city wasn’t as romantic as one would think. He’d simply gotten used to NYC, not bothered by his hopeless attempts at looking for some other place to live in. The message about his parents’ fatal accident and how he could move to their newly bought apartment in London - it all sounded like a joke, but sure Skyler could find some finesse in it. And he was going to move there without batting an eye as if they’d owed him much more than that. Which they certainly had. This one thought kept him going, this one thought reassured him that London was a good idea.

A loud beep coming from his coffee machine announced that his drink was ready. It should wake him up, along with a hot shower, breakfast, and...- Another loud noise came from his front door this time. Someone was at the door and Skyler already hated them for coming this early, even though he was the one who had turned his phone off and made it impossible for others to contact him. He opened the door energetically as if he wanted to convince himself that he didn't need coffee to function properly. All his hatred was gone when he saw who his unexpected guest was.

"Hey, I brought your games! Sorry I didn't come yesterday, they called my mom and told her I failed that stupid test, so she got mad. I told her it wasn't because of the games or anything like that, but she never listens..."

Ah, this boy. The list of people Skyler would miss wasn't long, his number one was Max, his neighbor. He was sixteen and lived with his mother and grandmother. Both of them weren't sure if Skyler could be considered a good company for Max, but his grandmother remembered Christine, Skyler's grandmother, and how wonderful a person she was, so eventually, they decided that as long as Max didn't start skipping school or using swear words, the two could hang out together.

"It's okay, come in. D'you want somethin' to drink?"

"Yeah, some juice maybe? Thanks!"

Max came in and put the games on the table. A little bit too late for Bane to hide his bags and a few large boxes? Definitely. The man mouthed 'fuck' and hid his face behind the palms of his hands, so he could add a soundless, yet angry 'you stupid fuck' too. There was no way he could just disappear without saying a word now and he knew that well, he just had no clue how he was going to do that. Hey, I’m leaving and won’t be coming back. How was your day?

Skyler handed the boy a glass of orange juice and grabbed his coffee too, leaning against the window sill in the kitchen. He took a sip of coffee and furrowed his brows.

"Why did you use 'fail' and 'test' in one sentence, though?"

"The questions were dumb! I couldn't understand them, nobody could," replied Max, sounding very disappointed. "I wasn't even the only one who didn't pass! The whole class, except for Josh of course, but it didn't convince my mom. She always says: 'if Josh gets good grades, then so could you'."

Bane chuckled, ignoring Max's little protest that there was nothing funny about that. "Fuck Josh, he won't get any smarter if he's the only kid who understands dumb questions, yeah?" Max liked this part much more. He grinned at the man, as he drank his orange juice, and promised himself that he would use it next time his mom gets mad at his grades. "Don't worry about it, your grades aren't some kind of a mirror where you can see how smart you are. They're nothin' more than some simplified system and once you've finished school..." Skyler shrugged his shoulders and added; "At a job interview they never ask if you were an A student."

"Exactly! That’s what I tell myself but-"

"But you have to study, comprenez vous? Or your mom's gonna kill me, not you," he said, raising a brow even though he wasn't expecting an answer. And now the hardest part... Skyler inhaled deeply, told himself that he had to tell Max about his decision, then looked at the boy. "I’m leavin’. I'm goin' to London soon, I have to be sure you'll be ok, y'know?", then pointed at the boxes and the bags. “I know you’re probably disappointed and that’s not what you expected from me, but I just have to go. Start anew.”

Max opened his eyes wider, desperately looking for any signs that would let him believe his friend was joking. No, there weren't any, even the tone of his voice sounded completely different, unlike Skyler. He was going to leave him here. No more games, no more movies... No more silly adventures to keep secret from mom and grandma. Max hadn't felt that lonely in a long time; how else could one feel if their best friend told them something like this? "You're not coming back," he said flatly, avoiding Skyler's gaze for a moment.

"Not really. I’ve got my stupid reasons... But I will visit you from time to time."

"Is Aria one of the reasons?"

Some of the coffee he drank went down the wrong way and Skyler started coughing, which probably was the worst possible way of saying 'no'. "I know I said 'stupid reasons' but that's not what I meant," he said in a hoarse voice and cleared his throat once again.

"Ok, ok...- Is she going too, then?"

"I don't care 'bout her and you shouldn't tell her anything in case she comes here. She stays in New York and I'm more than ok with that. Don't-"

"-talk to her, I know..." Max paused, giving himself a moment to ponder on his friend's words. He couldn’t just turn on his heel and leave, forget about their friendship. Skyler had helped him so many times and the last thing Max wanted was sound ungrateful. "If you have to... Come on, I'd be a shitty friend if I stopped talking to you or left without saying goodbye, right?"

"All I can say is that it'd be my style," he replied with a light chuckle. "Actually, that was my plan until you came here."

Max knew he wasn't joking but still managed to laugh at his confession. The fact that he eventually told him mattered most.

"And now I better take a shower and get ready to... take care of... this and that." Max didn't have to know all the details about his terribly badly chosen role model - 'computer programmer'. Yeah, sure.

"Sure," he replied with a small smile. Now he was sure that Skyler wasn't going to leave unexpectedly.

"Max? Y'know what, I think you should take the games. I'll be far too busy to play them," he said, raising a brow. Skyler watched as the boy quickly went back to the table where he'd left the games and smiled to himself. He knew that it was probably the best apology he could come up with.

"Too bad I'll only get better at them." Max placed one hand on the doorknob and turned to Skyler, adding half-jokingly, "And you said you didn't like losing, Bane?", before he closed the door behind him.

Skyler finished his coffee in silence and headed to the bathroom. He really needed some time to think and as the kind of person whose brain worked much better in the shower, he really needed one right now. There were some things he needed to get done before he left New York, things that didn't necessarily sound pleasant, and he didn't have much time either.

#sp:skyler #leaving:part I

3 notes · View notes

evien-stark · 4 years

Text

✧I Need You✧ Chapter 109 [Begin: Interlude]

The first quarter meeting had been delayed by unfortunate circumstances this year. What with its two CEOs mixed up in Avengers superhero business and the downfall of a huge government agency which was hiding a Hydra conspiracy inside of it… things had to understandably be put on the back burner until the end of January. So now that you and Tony were a little bit more free and clear, you decided to host a bigger conference than normal. You had your own presentation to give inside of it, for the Board more than anyone else, but at the same time you could run the project updates from the other departments and see where development were on several other key things.

These sort of things were always nerve wracking, no matter if you were confident in the works you had started. Even if it ended up that the Board disagreed or didn’t like what was going on, they would never have the balls to start organizing another movement for removal. For either you or Tony. After what had happened last time… and now that the two of you were certifiable public darlings and heroes- they’d never do that again. It would be against their own interests.

Yet, still, knowing this, you had a two hour long presentation about your projects and initiatives. Some that went years back. It was hard to hold a room for that long, you knew. But the information needed to be out and in the light of day so that Stark Industries could move forward into the new year. Tony helped you prepare… the best he could, anyway, and he sat front row for you while you took the stage.

You went through each with power points that you and Pepper had put together late into the night the day before. Starting with the Clean Planet Initiative that had started the moment Tony had shut down the weapons division of Stark Industries and spanning the power up of the Tower everyone was currently sitting in. That was going all well and good. Of course. Running smoothly, the Tower was still sustaining itself, and Stark Industries had been able to credit itself with the reduction of air pollution, with plastic waste reduction, with fuel efficiency regulations, and new clean energy production. Stark Industries’ teams in that area had also begun their last phase of their Intellicrops project, which was something they’d present near the end of the conference.

Then came the update on the Disaster Relief Funds for both the Expo and the Battle of New York. After the initial snafu of having terrible staff that had had to be replaced, things had been running a little bit more smoothly. Though the funds had not run dry, their usage had gone down- which was a great sign. It meant people were no longer relying on Stark Industries for help. Life was returning back to normal. Not particularly important to people like the Board, but the mentions of the oodles of tax credits the company could still claim and the boost to PR through all this was a little bit more substantial to their tastes.

A lengthy chunk of time was dedicated to Damage Control’s reports about the clean up portion of New York. You made sure to include that you’d broken off a portion of the team to go assess and clean up DC, and that the warehouses were scheduled to go under a revamp after you’d been forced to purchase more property for them to operate. Company bloat would always be a thing to be mindful of, but when that bloat consisted of deadly weapons… someone needed to go through every single shelf to make sure things were not only accounted for, but to determine whether or not those very same things were worth holding on to.

After that you gave the update on the Hansen Foundation. Still up and running strong. Though it had mostly assisted and helped the veterans that had been hurt by AIM’s malicious intentions, you and Tony had expanded it to care for the nation’s veterans that were otherwise not getting the help they needed. Going well, smoothly, and in the light of mentioning the funds needed for the Foundation, you again brought up the tax breaks and stock boosts that came from having someone like Colonel Rhodes on advisory staff. It had been a huge face lift for Stark Industries. Putting its past behind it and moving forward to navigate the damage it may have taken part in.

...especially after the SHIELD leaks had informed the public that Obadiah Stane had been selling weapons to America’s enemies for fun and profit… yes, this foundation out of all of them was probably the most important one to have as a full face right now.

The last two points of business were two of your newest initiatives: M and OAT. It was a little early to be reporting on either of them in a financial capacity, but the public returns had already been great and, as you convinced everyone, very cost effective. The net gain would far outweigh whatever dollar amount ended up being on the end of this year’s reports. You were very sure of that. With OAT came the mention that you and Tony were looking to buy up another building- perhaps in DC, but not sure yet, to accommodate the expansion of Stark Industries and its brand new employees. Scouting would have to be done soon, something you said you were looking forward to.

With that you opened the floor for questions, whether from the Board or the teams that had been invited to this big meeting. There had been… many. More than you would have liked. And more than you needed about topics not exactly pertinent to your presentations. Many of them having to do with the SHIELD leaks, of course, and your and Tony’s various… dealings. It wasn’t hard to put the voices to bed, and direct them to any of the multitude of reports that already existed. As for if any of them would negatively impact the company, you had personally already seen to that your and Tony’s motives would not be questioned.

After that very public spat with Christine, the general consensus was that you were doing your job- as a superhero and businesswoman. Were someone to look up to. Were someone that people agreed with, in every poll that had come out about it. Stark Industries had remained untouched. So whether or not you should have blown up that way (you were kind of the mind that you maybe shouldn’t have and should have remained dignified about it) didn’t matter anymore. You had and the public was loving it.

Christine had retreated into a hole. Calls had stopped. Her portion of the media that followed you and Tony around like hawks had disappeared. That spelled trouble, you were sure. She’d been smacked pretty hard for all to see. There was no way she was going to take that without repercussions. You just hoped… she wouldn’t do something drastic. Better not to think about it, for the moment.

Once your portion of the conference was finished, you thanked everyone and as usual, made a small speech about looking forward to the year ahead. After that, you excused yourself off the presentation stage in the theater, wanting to take a moment just to breathe after speaking for so long. Even though you hadn’t seen him get up, it didn’t surprise you to see Tony waiting for you behind the curtain, bottle of chilled water in hand.

The next presenter was already taking the stage as he smiled at you. “Great stuff. You really have a talent for getting people to eat out of your hand.”

“You know, I think one of the members of the Board said that to me a long time ago.” Hard to remember it, now. Although the part of your brain that held on to all things painful reminded you that that moment had not been a good one.

“They’re not wrong.” As you took the water from him and sipped at it gingerly, he put an arm around your waist. “What’d’you think? Time to cut and run?”

“That would be very rude to the other presenters.” While this grand meeting would be summarized in reports that you would go over later anyway… it was better for appearance to sit through and smile.

“Hm. Yeah. Well. Then we have a problem.” Humming sardonically. When you looked up at him he grinned. “It may also be very rude to the waitstaff at Ivy Lane if we bail on our reservation.”

You settled a hand on his chest with a playfully light push. “You mean your reservation. I had no part in that.”

“It was for two.”

“Guess you’ll have to get Bruce to go.”

“Busy.”

“So am I.”

The exchange left the two of you lightly smirking at one another, probably all too obvious you’d give in very soon. He helped speed matters along by lifting the hand you’d laid over his heart, pressing a kiss to the back. “Come on. Little celebration dinner never hurt anyone.”

“Technically the conference isn’t over. Celebrating early might invite chaos…” Lilting lightly as you half leaned up.

“I can handle chaos- especially restaurant chaos. What’s the worst they can do. Burn my chicken? Spill my wine?”

“Let’s not tempt fate, darling.” Shifting completely forward to press a small kiss to his lips.

It was interrupted all too soon by a clearing of someone’s throat. And when the two of you broke and turned, you saw Happy standing behind you. He hooked a thumb towards the exit door. “Car’s ready.”

You feigned annoyance back up at Tony. “I didn’t even say I would go.”

“But you will. Call me crazy, but, I’m pretty sure I know you by now.”

That damnable boyish charm of his, with that beautiful wry smile… you wondered if Tony Stark was aware of just how much he had you wrapped around his finger. You only hoped the feeling was mutual, as the two of you made your quiet escape. And hoped that no one noticed. Or saw. Or cared.

----

As luck would have it, the night after that went perfectly fine. No one burned Tony’s food, no one spilled any drinks on you. Though he didn’t reserve the whole restaurant, the two of you had a back table all to yourselves. It was nice to just be together, to just spend some time together after everything. Really, it was starting to feel like falling into a bit of a routine that way.

Something terrible and seemingly world-ending would come down upon you, Tony, and the team. You’d all figure it out. Clean up would start. And then eventually you and Tony would pretend you knew what normal life looked like for a little while. Enjoy each other’s company. And then… something else bad would happen.

It made the moments you shared, like that, precious. But it also… served to fuel your anxiety. How many more times would big terrible things happen? How many more storms would you have to weather?

While you had decided, coming into your realization, that you didn’t want to ruin the evening, he caught your eyes in the lowlights of flickering candles, and his smile disappeared. Settling his hand over yours, “You okay?”

Your smile was somewhat bittersweet. “That obvious?”

“Always.” Such a strong and resolute statement drove a stake of warmth through your churning worries.

But it wasn’t enough to kill them. “I don’t wanna ruin the night. I just… for a second couldn’t help but think about how we always end up here. After something nasty. Like we’re caught in an endless cycle.”

His eyes lowered, thinking. There was a soft silence before he started nodding lightly. “Yeah. ...I’m still in the planning phases, of this whole defense idea, but. I think I can get Banner in by June and start putting in the real work.”

This was not where you wanted to put his mind right now, but now that you’d forced him there, you had no choice. “I know we’ve talked about it but could you just… as simple as possible give me what your “defense idea” is?” Before it had been assistance. Something to help the Avengers. But now…

“It would be nice. Kinda far fetched, but. I work best on lofty ideals.” Smiling just a little. “-anyway, what I’m getting at… I’m willing to put in the time and effort- to something that… lets us go home.”

“Is that an option?”

“I’m still in the very rough draft phases, but-”

You turned your hand over in his so that you could give him a squeeze. “I’m not asking if you could build something. I have no doubt in my mind that you could figure out something- even something that big. I’m asking… even if you did…”

“Would we be able to stop?” A breath left him, and he slid his fingers between yours, just holding on. His eyes dropped again. “If you’re asking me that, you already know the answer. But. In terms of incremental steps. Monitoring a situation is better than being on the front lines.”

Monitoring. You imagined, he meant this, from somewhere safe. Wasn’t that what this was all about? There were levels of this. To build something that would allow you to pretend you could lead normal lives. To build something that would protect the earth from the things he saw up in space, and the things he thought would eventually come to earth to wreak more havoc. But, on top of it all…

Somewhere inside you, you heard the broken plea he’d made the night before your house in California had been blown up.

Threat is imminent, and I have to protect the one thing that I can't live without. That's you.

Taking a breath, you tried to level the both of you out, and aimed a quieter smile his way. “When you say lets us go home, what is it you’re envisioning?”

He blinked twice, having to shift gears to acquiesce that kind of question. But, once he was there, the quirk in the corner of his lips was considerably wry. “Are you asking me where I see us?”

“In… five years.”

“Am I being interviewed?” Grinning, then.

You returned the expression. “If it helps to think of it that way, then sure.”

“Alright. Five years…” Breathing out, eyes going up quickly in thought. As if he was looking at something- the picture he had in his mind. “New house. Something- comfortable. I think I’m aging out of my whole playboy billionaire estate vibe.”

“Thank god for that.”

For one reason or another this got a little laugh out of him, a drop of his head. When his eyes returned to yours, he lifted your joined hands, shifting forward so that he could rest the back of yours against his cheek. “Even though it seems like it’s not up to me- I’d hope by then you’ll settle for marriage.”

“Settle, huh? That’s a terrible pitch. You’re doing a disservice to yourself, you know.”

“If that’s how you feel, I’ll have them bring out a slice of cake with a ring in it right now.”

While you didn’t think he had something like that set up, you also knew if you gave him even the barest notion that that was what you wanted, he’d absolutely make it happen in fifteen minutes. He was ready to jump for you, whenever you were ready. That’s what he was saying. It put a squeeze in your heart. “Tony…”

“Oh that sounds bad.” Teasing, even knowing defeat was coming, smiling even still.

“It’s not that I don’t want to.”

“We’re off to a good start.”

“Just- right now…” You sighed, and he mirrored it, looking the exact kind of crestfallen yet understanding that really broke your heart. “Right now is not the right time.”

He nodded, and then pressed a little closer to your hand. “But. In five years?”

Your brows went up. “Did you just turn the tables on me?”

“I was sure you’d be used to that by now.”

Untangling your fingers from his, you turned your hand, resting his cheek in your palm. Just holding him. Dearly. Lovingly. Eyes watching his. “In five years… yes. I’d like a home with you. I’d like to build a life with you. And… yes. Be married to you.”

“Okay.” He murmured, looking at you. Adoration shone in his eyes, radiated between you, twined with that ever present and deep feeling of love. That he had only for you. “In five years.”

Hearing him at that moment, make a promise. A promise to try and find a way to cull that self same chaos in your lives. The uncertainty. Not only for the world. But for the both of you. So that the two of you could have a life together. “I love you, Tony.”

His smile was so beautiful. “I love you, too.” Reaching up to hold your hand there against his face, turning lightly, to press a kiss to your palm. “More than anything.”

----

A light rain had started to fall and it was terribly chilly outside, but after your meal you and Tony decided it might be nice to just take a little walk in the rain. Happy provided the both of you with an umbrella, and at your request set a moving security perimeter of twenty feet, him ten behind, just to keep cameras at bay. It sucked, that you were having to do that increasingly more, but this life came with that territory.

Tony was holding the umbrella over the both of you, his other arm preoccupied, twined with yours as you laid your head against him. The city at least seemed quiet, not even in the superficial way that your security was creating. It was just… nice. Even the cold was refreshing, in a way. The two of you had slipped into slightly broken and soft conversation about nothing important.

It was hard to sense the subtle shift, lulled into that false sense of things being alright. Someone had been following the two of you. And it wasn’t until you heard Happy arguing with whoever it was that the both of you turned.

A little too late as a woman put him over her shoulder and onto his back in a hard thump. She was short, black hair and very pale skin- and she was angry. Tony immediately moved just in front of you, “Please don’t touch my Happy.” Calling out to her.

While she looked at him for a few seconds, her gaze skewed to you. “I don’t want trouble.” And after saying so, continued to give you the exact opposite idea as she came stomping your way.

You couldn’t help but make a face at her. “Then you’re making a mistake.” Whoever she was, she was now just short of charging two of the most powerful people in the city. How she’d broken through security was a bit of an upsetting question- but- the two of you could handle yourselves.

Said security had gotten the message that something was going down on their watch, and two of your Stark Industries strongmen came to her side. A car pulled up on the sidewalk. Tony opened the door for you, and put his arm around you to usher you inside. But, with one leg up and a hand on the door, you heard her call. “Hey-!” Whoever she was, the police could sort her out. Your plan was to leave. At least until she yelled again.

“Hey, puppy!”

It shot a tremor through you so violent you thought for a second the sidewalk must be shaking. Going in the car was no longer an option. Your body seemed to be moving on its own as you turned back to look at her. Your security was scattered on the sidewalk.

“That’s what I thought. That’s you. Right?”

Tony’s voice was so very far away. Muffled, as he called out, with a hand on your shoulder, “Honey-”

The next motions came in swift chops. The yank of your jacket zipper. The double press of the Heart Reactor. Tony was yelling something behind you- as you’d started moving. Running at full speed. This woman was dangerous. And not only that-

She was with him.

Moving to a half leap to put all your momentum forward, you charged at her with a powerful punch. One she caught, both of her hands holding you at bay, gritting her teeth at you as the two of you struggled. “Listen to me-” Growling at you.

“You work for him-” Growling right on back, zipping your eyes up along your HUD to get the helmet to release. You wanted to look into her eyes for this. To send a message to her- and him. You felt a snarl as you bore your teeth at her, “So you go back to him and tell him-”

“I don’t work for that asshole. And he’s dead. No thanks to you.”

That practically killed the fight in you almost immediately. The feeling of such raw and powerful guilt- of disgust and of wrath… you’d felt these things before. Easing up on your punch, even though she still held you in her palms, you narrowed your eyes at her. The heavy smell of liquor rolling off her was sickening. “What are you talking about?”

“It’s you, right? At least tell me I’ve got that part down.” There was a smaller air of satisfaction. She scoffed with a dead-eyed half grin. “Yeah. He’s dead. I thought you should know.” Her eyes moved sideways and then she let you go, putting her hands up. “I did what I came here to do.”

You realized the sound of a heavy thunk behind you too late. Tony had pulled a suit- probably from the car- and while this woman was strong... she was also probably no idiot. “Are we talking about-”

“Kilgrave. If you even got that far. If you even cared.” She spit at you. Like this was… your fault, somehow. “I thought he was lying, you know. Not that it matters, he’s dead now. But he hurt a lot of people. Because you let him.”

“You’re sure he’s dead?”

She hung her head, a sarcastic bark of laughter leaving her. “Saw him got hit by a bus. Yeah. He’s pretty dead.” Then she looked up at you, and for a moment you weren’t sure you’d ever seen so much boiling hate- or felt so much- directed at you before. “Superhero my ass. You could’ve stopped him-”

It riled you straight to your core. Even as you held up your hand to keep Tony at bay- from firing on this woman- you stared her down. “If we’re talking about the same monster, then you know I had no say in what I did.”

“But you got out. And you let him continue to roam around. Because you’re a coward. Live with that for the rest of your life. Knowing he hurt so many other people. Knowing you could have done more. People are dead because of you.” Then she turned away in a half stumble, shoving aside one of your other security guards who had gotten to his feet. “Don’t touch me.” Barking at him, half falling over, catching herself, and then walking off.

Your men were staring at you, waiting for direction- because two of the Iron People of the world were standing there, letting her get away. So clearly that meant they shouldn’t get involved. Right? “...ma’am?”

Tony put a hand on your shoulder. “Honey.”

With a shaky hand, feeling the earth shift beneath you, you reached up to deactivate the suit, and felt the slice of pouring rain suddenly coming down over you. The man that had taken you… one you’d promised vengeance on- the one you’d promised you’d make regret doing that- regret hurting others… also the one you ran from- such a dangerous, powerful man. The man who could command people with a single word.

...had gotten hit by a bus.

Wrapping your arms around yourself, you turned to Tony, unable to meet his eyes. “I need to go home.”

“Yeah-” Clearly stunned and confused, having no earthly idea what the hell was going on. But wanting to heed your needs.

Once the two of you were in the car with Happy behind the wheel, promising he was okay- and apologizing for letting that happen- you tuned everything else out except the patter of rain on the windows.

Fury had been right. You should have gotten out of bed. You should have made an effort. Maybe you could have caught that man- Kilgrave, apparently. That did make you a coward. The woman was right.

Stuck in traffic, fifteen minutes out from the Tower, you found your voice. “She said he’s dead.”

Tony had his arm around you, the both of you soaking wet still. “Who?”

“The one who took me.”

The air in the back of the car became suffocating and dark. “...she sure about that?”

“She wasn’t lying.” You knew it, now. Sensed it, as she was coming down on you. Everything she’d said was true. “She blamed me-” This escaping out of you in a hiccup as you reached up to press a hand to your forehead.

“She was also drunk. Which. Excusable. Given the circumstances. But. Also skews her judgment.” He was trying to defend you. And much as you wanted to give in…

“She called me a coward.”

“What more proof do you need that she’s wrong?” When you didn’t- couldn’t- answer, he let a breath out. “...we’re really sure. That he’s dead? Who even is she? ...you’re sure she’s sure?” Double and triple checking. Wordlessly you nodded. “...how did she know about you?”

“He must have… told her. I don’t know. He was a sick person.”

“And he’s dead now. According to her.” Tony’s skepticism was understandable. This was such a terrible mark on both your lives. To have it come to a quick and unforeseeable, maybe even unknowable end… it was hard to believe. “...either way. I had JARVIS grab a scan.”

“Why?” Finding enough strength to finally look up at him.

“Seems like enhanced people are popping up everywhere, these days. Seeing as how she laid out our security and held a swing from you like Cap, I’m thinking it’s not a bad idea to keep an eye on things.”

You weren’t sure how you felt about this. If she were anything like you- and it seemed like you had an uncomfortable amount in common… “I don’t want to spy on her.”

“Nobody said spy. I’m not spying.” Defending himself quickly.

“I believe her.” What she had been saying was true. You… were pretty sure about it.

“Alright. So I believe you when you believe her. Doesn’t change the fact that a woman that angry and that boozed up could punch a hole through a regular person.”

Your eyes dropped, thinking about this. ...he was right. And you weren’t sure how to feel about that. The two of you weren’t responsible for every single newly enhanced individual that showed up on the street. Not until they started menacing the general public, at least. Then it was sort of your problem.

But this woman had been taken by that man. Probably abused by him. No telling for how long. She was now angry and had a new sense of freedom. ...she was also self medicating with alcohol. And she had some pretty heavy firepower in her muscles. This was a dangerous cocktail. ...it also wasn’t fair to pigeonhole her.

“SHIELD kept tabs on people, remember? And we didn’t like it. ...I’m- I agree with you. This situation is a little dicey but… let’s leave her alone. Until she decides what side of the fence she’s coming out on.”

“I’m not trying to menace her.” There was a sudden blossom of blue in the backseat as he looked away. Guilt was very close. “...I remember. How you came out of that. I’ve got nothing but sympathy, alright?” Leaning in closer, you practically hid your face against the round of his shoulder, hand over his heart. Just clinging to him. He took a breath to even himself out. “We’ll stay worried about us. And our current situation.” Making a very valiant effort, he touched a hand over your wet hair, directing your attention his way, and tried a smile for you. “...and that five years will be here before you know it.”

Out of all the ways you’d expected this evening to go… this wasn’t exactly the chaos you’d thought you were inviting. It wasn’t exactly the worst, either. But it… definitely sucked.

#Tony Stark #Tony Stark x Reader #INY Chapter One Hundred Nine

5 notes · View notes

aelaer · 5 years

Note

Suicide TW!!! I live for the Nick/Stephen frenemy relationship, so: AU where Stephen is severely depressed and, instead of crashing his car, he parks in a pull-over and attempts suicide (drugs, alcohol, cutting, up to you) only to then be hit by an oncoming car. As a result, he ends up in hospital to realise that not only is he still alive, but Nick knows what he did. He can't stand the shame and humiliation, until he hears the words "I'm sorry" out of nowhere.

Okay nonny, so a couple things:

By relationship I presume you meant “platonic relationship” as my list of (serious) romance-focused stories in the MCU is a big fat zero and will remain that way probably for some time. If not all time. But I never say never.

I altered the scenario a bit and decided not to use a car crash, but the main elements (depression/suicide, Nick and Stephen interaction, Nick Knowing) remain. This also sort of allows it to potentially be in the “realm of canon” with enough stretching, should one decide to want the headcanon. Though IMO this is an AU-verse.

So I hope that’s all okay and you still find it fulfilling. I’ve never actually written Nick before (though I dabbled with the idea of all the events of Doctor Strange from Nick’s POV like, back when the film first came out) so that was also fun. I really dislike fics that make him look like an idiot (or worse, a pervert for some weird ass reason) so it’s great to get my own view out.

And I also didn’t want to write a book because I’ve got too many WIPs that are books that need to get finished first, so I was going for “short and sweet”. In a manner of speaking. I mean it seems I’m still incapable of doing something under 2000 words but it’s shorter than the last prompt so you know, I’m getting there.

As the prompt suggests, this fic will go into detail about very serious subjects around mental health, including depression and suicide. Please proceed with caution if these are sensitive subjects for you.

Please also note that the symptoms and actions taken within the story are not a guide or diagnosis tool and should be interpreted as strictly fictional. Please refer to official literature such as those offered by the National Suicide Prevention Hotline (US) and other verified sources for what you should do if you believe someone you know is suffering from suicidal thoughts.

Written for @stephenstrangebingo square, “It’s Not About You”.

—————–

Every employee at Metro-General took the confidentiality of their patients’ conditions seriously. There was no doctor or nurse on staff that could be bribed to leak any celebrity’s medical information; they were known for having some of the best doctors for a reason. Many of the elite of New York went to that hospital in the middle of Midtown for that famous discretion.

There was, however, one glaring exception to this rule that every nurse and doctor learned early on: if one of their co-workers had something very serious happen to them, their status would eventually leak out to the rest of the staff. There was never anything particularly hostile about the whispers, and while curiosity was the biggest fuel to the information train, news tended to spread out from concern rather than scorn. This trend even applied to staff members that were generally seen as assholes.

Doctor Nicodemus West learned this during his next shift. A couple minutes after entering his office, just as he was getting into his email inbox, a quick knock at the open door broke his concentration. He looked up and smiled. “Morning, Alyssa.”

The nurse offered a brief smile in greeting, but stepped inside and closed the door before speaking. “Did you hear the news?” she asked softly; her smile was gone.

His brow furrowed. “I’m sorry, news?”

“Doctor Strange was admitted to the ER last night.”

His mind came to a screeching halt. “What? Seriously?” He generally avoided the man if he could, though from what was going around the gossip circles the last couple weeks, Strange was still a raging asshole, but in good health. “What happened?”

Alyssa shook her head. “I don’t know all the details, but he had to get his stomach pumped.”

Nick winced in sympathy; that was not a pleasant experience. “Jeez,” he muttered. “Is he doing okay?”

“Last I heard, he’s stable,” she answered. “Apparently Doctor Palmer’s still his emergency contact, though.”

“She would be anyone’s emergency contact; she’s too good of a person,” he replied in return. “Thanks for letting me know, though; I suspect others in the department may need to take some of his patients that can’t wait for him.”

Alyssa nodded. “The administration is already looking through his cases, though I expect he’ll be up and back at work as soon as he can. Doctor Strange is never really one for breaks.”

“I suppose not,” said Nick. The conversation turned to other topics and the neurosurgeon put the matter with Strange in the back of his mind, left as generally unimportant in the grand scheme of his life.

—————

Strange got back to work and things got back to normal in the neurology department.

Only thing was, Nick started noticing things.

While Doctor West was no prodigy like Doctor Strange, he would not have the ability to become a neurosurgeon without the ability to notice details. It was the details in life— in the human body in particular— that fascinated him and turned him towards medicine in the first place. No, he wasn’t a prodigy, but he was still damn good at his job.

So when Strange came back to the office a few days after his visit to the ER, Nick decided to break his usual policy of avoiding Strange as much as humanly possible and went to his office to welcome him back. It was good for department morale to act mostly cordial to each other, even if most of the effort was on his part.

The door was open and Strange was still in his outer coat, back to him, when Nick knocked on the doorway. The doctor turned to face him and Nick raised a hand in greeting. “Hey. Just wanted to say welcome back.”

Strange’s brow furrowed and he made a rather weird expression. “Oh… uh, thanks.” He turned to the coat rack in the corner of the room and began to remove his outerwear.

“How’re you…” Nick started, but paused as the coat was fully removed, revealing Strange’s dress shirt underneath. It hung rather loosely on his figure; apparently the man had lost some weight recently. Due to Christine Palmer’s honeymoon phase about two years ago, Nick was more aware than he would prefer to be about how ‘fit’ Doctor Stephen Strange was (which really was unfair).

It seemed that wasn’t the case anymore. When had that happened?

Strange didn’t seem to notice his trailing off. “I’m fine. Perfectly alright, thank you. I hope you didn’t botch any of my surgeries while I was gone.”

And there was the asshole he remembered. Nick pressed his lips together. “All your patients are recovering without setback. You can even see them for yourself.” He did his best to cut back the bite of sarcasm in his last sentence.

If Strange heard it, he didn’t comment on it. “I’ll let the nurses handle it. Now if you’ll excuse me, I do have a lot of emails to catch up on. Close the door behind you, if you would.”

Nick rolled his eyes and shut the door as he left the office, but the detail seen settled in the back of his mind to remain quiet, but not forgotten.

And with that one thing noticed, he started to notice more things as the weeks passed on.

According to Alyssa, Strange was rarely seen in the hospital cafeteria anymore— one of the cafeteria staff members who had an open crush on the doctor was complaining about it, apparently.

Strange was having bouts of insomnia, according to gossiping security personnel. There were times that doctors did not go home for the night, but his were becoming more consistent occurrences.

As Nick ate with members from both his usual surgical team and Strange’s surgical team one lunch time a few weeks after Strange came back to work, the topic somehow went to Strange and his uncanny recollection for music, no matter the genre or decade it was released. It was well known that he liked to have the others on his team try and challenge him with their song choices while he was performing his operations.

“Not anymore,” said Billy, and Alyssa frowned at him.

“What? But that’s his gig! He’s been doing that for years.”

Billy shrugged. “He hasn’t been doing it for a few months now. He’s told us he doesn’t care what we want to play, but he doesn’t guess at songs anymore. Doesn’t give any recommendations, either. It sort of sucks; my music library has barely expanded this year.”

“Maybe you need to find something really challenging, a song so obscure that he’ll be drawn into it again,” she said. “I wonder how well he knows Jamaican music.”

“We tried British and Australian Top Hits of the ‘80s last year, but we haven’t done Jamaica. Do Jamaicans generally speak English? He hasn’t memorized songs from every language in the world.”

She rolled her eyes, and as Alyssa started explaining the history of Jamaica and Jamaican Creole, Nick stored this new bit of information away in the section of his brain that, somehow, had become dedicated to collecting all these tidbits.

And Nick noticed that every time he bumped into the other neurosurgeon in the hall, he appeared exhausted. Nick did not know if anyone else noticed the clear loss of weight and the dark bags around his eyes, but they were blindingly obvious to him.

Usually Strange moved with an endless amount of energy when off to surgery, and with some of the more challenging surgeries the energy stayed with him no matter how long the procedure took. It was an exuberance that even he admired, though it was never something he planned to admit to Strange. But now the energy was missing. He was still snarky and aloof, but the spark of genuine joy that was once clear to everyone in the department was gone.

If Strange was a friend, he would have acted weeks ago. If Strange was a colleague he got along with, he would have waited no longer than a month, just to make sure. But two months after his short medical hiatus and Nick remained uncertain, because this was Stephen Strange. Surely no one as big-headed and arrogant as he could ever actually be— yes, there were some signs, but it just seemed too far-fetched. Surely not.

A couple weeks later and some of the doctors from neurosurgery, some from cardiology, and some from the ER were having a rare lunch together. Somehow Christine Palmer had managed to drag Strange out of his office to see his coworkers. And somehow he ended up sitting next to Strange, though the man was mostly quiet as he took the occasional bite from his salad. That in itself was very unusual, as Nick was used to Strange enjoying all the attention of the room.

The conversation turned to a sudden, inexplicable death that happened just yesterday that the hospital was still trying to solve. As theories went around the table, Nick heard Strange mutter under his breath, “Maybe she just realized life wasn’t worth living.” None of the others heard it. Nick pretended he didn’t, either.

But the comment resonated in his head for the rest of the day.

————

This was not going to be comfortable. This was not going to be easy. Nick hated that he, of all people, had noticed. Had no one else seen it?

It only took another day to push his discomfort aside. “It’s not about you,” he mumbled to himself in the mirror in the early morning. “Strange needs help.” And he was a doctor, first and foremost. And doctors helped people in need.

He wanted to speak with Strange outside the hospital, in a neutral place for them both. The only problem was that he never saw the man outside of work and he had no idea how to approach him.

The opportunity came a few days later when Nick was already performing surgery while on call. Another emergency craniotomy was required and Strange stepped in at Christine’s request while Nick was unavailable. It was as good a reason as any.

“Thank you for taking that patient yesterday,” he said in greeting the next morning.

Strange looked up from his computer, surprise crossing his features. He looked tired. “No surgeon can be in two surgeries at once,” he said with a shrug.

“Still, I appreciate it,” Nick said. “I know you’re not fond of the ER.”

“A butcher shop.”

He ignored the comment. “So I’d like to thank you. You free after work? Dinner’s on me.”

The other man stared at him. “You want to have dinner,” he said flatly.

“As colleagues,” he added, hopefully unnecessarily, because really? “I’m trying to be nice and show my appreciation, Strange. Don’t be an ass about it and just say yes.”

Strange lifted his brows high, but the fuel to his ego did the trick. “Yeah, sure. Got any place in mind?”

Nick shrugged. “There’s a good Italian place three blocks south of us.”

“Italian’s fine.”

“Cool. See you later.” He ignored the expression on Strange’s face and took his leave.

—————

The walk from the hospital to the restaurant was a bit of an uncomfortable one, but Nick wasn’t certain if it was mostly one-sided or not; Strange was more or less expressionless. He only tried to instigate conversation once throughout the walk, but it trailed off to silence before they reached the second block, so Nick decided then to save all attempts at conversation for dinner.

It was going to be hard enough then.

After they arrived and were seated, he also decided to wait until they had finished eating before approaching the topic. Maybe the food would relax the nerves in his gut.

So in the meantime he talked shop. It had been some time since either of them had discussed their cases with each other, so he figured that it was a safe enough conversation topic until the end of the meal.

Unfortunately Strange, bastard that he was, threw him off his planned course. It was just after they ordered food; both had a glass of wine and their waiter had already set down a basket of bread and a saucer of olive oil for dipping. Strange caught Nick as the latter was ripping off a piece of bread to smother in the dipping oil.

“What is this really about?” he asked.

Nick paused mid-dip. “What?”

“All this.” He waved an arm to gesture to the restaurant. “I’ve helped in the ER several times when your hands were full. What is this actually about?”

He set his bread on his plate, frowning. “You can’t wait until after we eat?”

Strange raised a brow. “Consider yourself fortunate I said yes to this at all. I only came because, admittedly, I’m curious; I cannot begin to guess what you could possibly want to talk to me about outside of work.”

“Fine, fine.” Nick sighed and set his elbows on the table. He pressed his lips against his closed fists as he figured out how to start. All the while, Strange stared at him with an odd mix of exasperation and puzzlement. “You…” he started slowly. He trailed off.

“Me,” said Strange.

Fuck it. “You’ve been off lately.”

His brows shot up. “Off?”

“Yeah, off. Not yourself. Different.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means exactly that. You’re acting differently lately. For a while, apparently.”

He bristled in clear irritation. “If you’re just going to waste my time—”

“You don’t enjoy your work anymore.”

That shut him up. Nick continued in the silence. “You used to always enter and exit your operations with this excitement that echoed down the halls. That’s completely gone.”

Strange recovered his voice. “If you’re implying that my work has suffered—”

“No, no,” he interrupted. “Not at all. This isn’t about the quality of your work; this is about you.” Strange didn’t have an immediate retort to that, so Nick continued, “Or maybe it’s not about you but about this man that’s taken over you the last several months. That man is clearly not eating and sleeping well, barely comes out of his office, hasn’t bragged about his newest studies and speeches in months, and mutters about life not being worth living at lunchtime.”

His colleague’s mouth hung slightly open as if he wanted to say something but had forgotten how to speak. Nick couldn’t quite read the emotion in his eyes, either. Before he completely lost his nerve, he said one last observation. “And that man,” he muttered, “had his stomach pumped two months ago, and those circumstances combined with the rest paint a picture of a man who… might be a bit lost.”

Something raw flashed through Strange’s eyes that made him appear more vulnerable than Nick’s ever seen him before. That brought on a strange and discomforting feeling that joined the rest of the jumbled nerves in his stomach.

Quickly he continued, “You don’t need to tell me anything. I’m not demanding anything from you. I just wanted to say that— no matter what differences we have— that if you do need someone for— for anything— that I’m here. Even if it’s just to listen.”

He fell silent, and still Strange didn’t say anything immediately, which was unusual in itself. Nick wasn’t sure if he should continue looking at him or if he should look away, or what.

And thank God, dinner arrived and gave him the perfect reason to look away and leave Strange to his thoughts.

The silence sat for the remainder of the meal. Strange didn’t eat much (though he couldn’t blame him) but also didn’t leave. Nick didn’t know what that meant, or if it meant anything at all.

Still, he had one last thing to say.

After he paid the bill, he pulled a card from his wallet as he stood up. “She came with high recommendations,” he said as he put down the card of a therapist that most certainly did not work at Metro-General. “Think about it.” With that, he took his leave, allowing Strange time alone to dwell on what he said.

————

When they next saw each other at work, neither of them made any indication to each other that they had dinner last night. Their last conversation never crossed the threshold of the hospital. Strange never called him, and Nick never inquired about his well being more than he did any other coworker.

But a few months later, when he got word that Strange was starting his music challenge games in his operations once more, Nick allowed himself a small smile at the news.

#doctor strange fanfic #stephenstrangebingo #doctor strange #stephen strange #nick west #my writing #my fanfiction #prompt fill #tw: suicide #tw: mental health #Anonymous

46 notes · View notes

macbookpro-hard-drive · 5 years

Text

control [jeremy h. x squipped!reader] pt.4

i arise from my grave to post this

so uhhhh consider............... im a tired college student-

anyway uh

i swear this part is shorter than i intended but i guess i’ll die

warnings: squip. thts it. the squip. manipulation, abuse, everything that kinda comes with writing about the SQUIP. also horror movie mentions but nothing explicit (although a kill is mentioned from one of said horror movies)

Halloween day finally comes, and thankfully lands on a Saturday to give you maximum time to hang out with Michael and Jeremy (who, upon learning you’d be joining the two of them during a lucky moment between classes, had stared at you for a moment with furrowed brow before commenting he didn’t know that the two of you were friends again). Your nerves were getting the best of you as you flipped through your clothes, slipping into a comfortable pair of black jeans. The entire time, your SQUIP lingered around you, talking you through some game plan. You stripped off the large shirt you used for pajamas and slipped into a plain black t-shirt, before fishing your jean jacket from your bed.

Finally, you turned to your SQUIP’s form standing behind you. “Maybe I could, y’know... do this myself?” You suggested, before following it up with a quick, almost apologetic, “I don’t think I should be depending on you for every interaction... right?”

At first, it didn’t respond. It stared at you, lips pressed into a thin line as it gave you a once-over. After letting out a small hum of approval at your ensemble, it shook it’s head. “I’ve run the numbers and that will result in your failure, [y/n]. It’s best to stick with the original plan,” and then it paused for a moment, “I’m beginning to detect that you don’t trust me.”

“I do!” You responded quickly, before you nervously pushed past the intangible figure to look in your mirror. Combing your fingers through your hair, you let the question weigh in your mind before you finally looked back to your SQUIP. “Is... Is there any way to get rid of you?”

“No.” The response was sharp, quick to shoot down any and every idea you’d been formulating.

“Oh. So...” You trailed off, before crossing your room and fishing through your dresser to find a pair of socks, “I’m stuck with you, then.”

“Stuck implies you no longer want me here, [y/n].”

“It’s not that I don’t want you here...” You mused aloud, before snagging a pair of shoes and sitting on your bed. “It’s just... I don’t think I want you around when I’m, like, thirty.”

“Plenty of world leaders would kill to have a SQUIP, [y/n]. Consider yourself lucky.”

You merely shrugged at the sentiment before your phone chimed with a text from Michael, almost as if on cue to end this awkward moment between you and the voice in your head. Quickly, you finished getting ready and shoved your keys and phone into your pocket, and you raced out to Michael’s car. Jeremy was already in the passenger seat, forcing you to retire into the back - which, you immediately sprawled out and absolutely enjoyed the space as Michael took off, launching into a list of the contenders for the evening. Scream, Halloween, A Nightmare On Elm Street, specifically the remake of Friday The 13th (and, for a moment, you heard Jeremy exhale sharply at the title), Final Destination...

“And Terrifier-” Michael began, eyes cutting towards Jeremy for a split second.

Immediately, Jeremy smacked Michael’s arm. “Dude, I told you I’m not watching Terrifier-” He shifted, “fuck that clown.”

You looked between the two of them. “What’s Terrifier?”

Michael’s beaming at your question. “Jer. We have to. They don’t-”

“No!” He retorted, “fuck you, I’m sparing them, then-”

“C’mon, Jeremy,” Michael teased further, “it’s just one kill-”

“HE SAWS HER IN HALF, MICHAEL.” Jeremy’s voice went up an octave, and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat, “that’s horrifying-”

You rose a brow in response. “What’s so bad about that-”

Jeremy turned to face you, “okay.” He shut his eyes for a moment, composing himself, before he opened them once more, “there’s this girl that gets kidnapped, right? She gets... suspended spread eagle, and cut down the middle.”

“Okay, but-”

“She’s upside down.” When you winced at the mental image, Jeremy looked back at Michael, “see? Any normal person would find that disgusting-”

“Alright,” Michael conceded, “no Terrifier. Got it.”

If there was one thing that became apparent extremely quickly, it was that the Friday The 13th remake was fucking awful. Without Michael’s constant quips (plenty having to do with Mr.Supernatural being in the movie), you weren’t sure how you survived - especially during a sex scene until the poetic line of “you have perfect nipple placement, baby” was spoken and immediately the three of you are choking on laughter - Michael more than happy to mock it. And thank fuck for that, because you’d been uncomfortable watching the scene up until that line - to say nothing of how awkwardly silent Jeremy had gone. The moment the movie was over, Michael began to queue up Netflix with the promise of watching something actually good. The opening moments of Scream had been enough to prove that.

From beside you, Michael lowered his voice, looking at you and Jeremy, “what’s your favorite scary movie?”

You playfully nudged him with your elbow, “fuck, dude, that wasn’t even a good impression-”

“I think it was great, actually,” Michael looked to Jeremy, “don’t you agree?”

Looking between the two of you, Jeremy debated for a moment before finally giving his answer, “I, uh, kinda have to side with [y/n]-”

“Unbelievable. Betrayal.” Michael leaned back into the couch, looking back to the movie, “I let you come into my house, eat my snacks-”

“-That I helped buy,” Jeremy cut in.

“That my dear friend Jeremiah helped buy,” Michael smirked a little, “and this is how I’m repaid.”

“C’mon, Mikey,” you nudged him once more, “Jeremy’s not gonna lie about your shitty impression.”

“He would if I was Christine.”

“That’s because Christine’s talented,” Jeremy looked away, “it wouldn’t have sucked if she did it.”

For a moment, you faltered. “Yeah,” you halfheartedly said, and pretended not to catch Michael’s concerned glance at your sudden change in behavior, “he’s got a point.”

The moment Michael went to say anything, your phone began to ding relentlessly. With the intention of turning it to silent, you pulled it from your jacket pocket only to freeze the moment you caught a glimpse of the screen. Tweet after tweet, text after text, all of it came in rapid-fire, whether they were directly to you or not. You pulled yourself off of the couch, ignoring Michael’s call after you as you head upstairs to open up your Twitter.

Rich set a fire. Jake’s house was burned down. Rich was in the hospital, and so was Jake.

A hand landed on your shoulder, and you almost jumped as you turned to face Michael. He stared at you for a moment, giving you a once-over before finally speaking, “you okay?”

You shrugged it off, stumbling as you took a step back, “yeah-”

Michael’s gaze goes soft as he picked up on the fear that was racing through your blood and shining on your face. “That’s bullshit, [y/n],” he said, “look, I won’t push you to talk, but-”

Swallowing your nerves, you forced yourself to stand tall and get your emotions under control. “Can you drive me home?”

He glanced back to the door, where Jeremy had been coming up the steps, “uh, yeah- just let me grab my phone-”

And then he left you alone with Jeremy as he retreated downstairs. Biting his bottom lip nervously, he tore his eyes away from you, before finally appearing to gather some courage to speak to you. “Is everything okay?”

You nodded quickly, “yeah, just...” You trailed off, looking down at the floor, “something came up.”

“What?”

Immediately, you panicked. Something about saying Rich Goranski is in the hospital and I’m worried felt too heavy to drop at the moment. So you just stayed silent as Michael came back upstairs with his phone.

The moment you were back in the sanctuary of your room, you found your phone once more. Flipping through tweets, you felt your stomach drop further. He burned the house down because he knew he was gay and couldn’t handle that, that he was dead, that he was high and drunk, that Jake had broken both of his legs while escaping the fire, and you saw a few tweets from some pissed people about how they’d been slightly burned while escaping the fire. But Rich received the worst of it.

“But-” You mused aloud, “how did he - why would he-”

“Rich lacked the proper coping mechanism. His SQUIP was most likely disabled due to the alcohol he consumed that night,” your SQUIP stepped into existence in front of you, and you lowered your phone as you looked up at it, “and with everything else he’s been dealing with...”

Your blood ran cold at the implication. “You don’t mean he-”

“Perhaps it was just an accident.”

You caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, completely disheveled from your worries. “I should go see him.”

“He won’t be awake.” Your SQUIP crossed it’s arms as it looked down at you, “besides... he most likely won’t be having visitors yet.”

“I don’t care-”

“[y/n]. You need to rest first. You can visit Rich tomorrow...” You finally gave into what it was saying, sitting down on your bed for a moment, “besides.” You looked up, “you did well tonight. You deserve a break.”

“I... what?”

“I let you control the conversation. Instead of giving you the correct things to say, I decided to watch. You performed amiably. Congratulations.” Your SQUIP smiled at you, “you’re learning. Of course, we still have more work to do, but it’s progress.”

“Oh.” You stood, stripping off your jacket, “thank you, then.” You paused for a moment, “I don’t think I’m going to be able to sleep.”

“Don’t worry. You’ll be fine. Don’t forget,” it said, and you turned to look at it, “you have me.”

Over the next few days, you’d been relentlessly going to the hospital - borrowing your parents’ cars whenever you could. After several days of trying, you were finally able to get in to see Rich, and your heart sank in your chest when you finally saw him. He wasn’t awake, as your SQUIP had said, but he was alive and that was enough for you in that moment. He was broken and bruised, sure, but the fact his heart monitor provided a steady beat to break the silence in the room was almost like music. You stood at his bedside, looking down on him as he slept. You hugged your arms close to your body - what would have happened to you if you had gone to the party? Would you be here, alongside or instead of Rich? Would you have been able to stop him from... whatever he had been trying to do?

“Rich,” you finally say aloud, and your tears choke you, “fuck - Rich, I’m sorry-”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” your SQUIP’s touch grazed your shoulder, “this wasn’t your fault. There was nothing we could have done.”

“I should have been there, I could have stopped him-”

“It was for the best that you were with Michael and Jeremy, [y/n].”

For a moment, you’re quiet and afraid. But you finally asked the question that had begun to weigh down on you: “is this going to happen to me?”

“Of course not. Now... let’s get back to work,” your SQUIP said, “it’s important you don’t dwell on this for too long. Let’s visit Jake while we’re here.”

Going along with it’s idea, you’d easily found Jake’s room after a few minutes of searching. The TV had been on with some cooking show displayed, and you were more than glad to see Jake awake and as well as he could be for someone with two broken legs. When you cautiously walked in, he brightened up immediately - and for a moment, you had assumed it was because you weren’t a nurse coming to check on him.

“[y/n]!” He called out as you walked in, “how are you?”

Caught off guard by the question, you stammered for a moment, “I’m - uh, I’m fine,” you said, “how are you?”

“Great!” He said, “I mean - the whole broken legs thing is, y’know, not that great, but I’m glad to see you.”

“You... you are?”

“Yeah!” He said, “Rich always talks about you, y’know.” The moment you flushed, Jake chuckled, “he said you’re a lot cooler than you seem.”

“Oh.” You looked away for a moment, “that’s sweet of him-”

“Do you still do the art stuff?” He asked, and immediately you looked back at him.

“How did you know that I-”

He cut you off, “there was this project back in freshman year that you did with Michael Mell, and, uh, Jeremy-something. You did the art for it, right?”

Nodding, you slowly remembered the piece you’d been repressing due to how rushed it had been. “Right. Yeah, I still do art stuff,” you smiled at him, “do you know when you’re getting out?”

“Nah,” he sunk into the bed, “shouldn’t be long, though. We should hang out!”

“Oh. Uh. Don’t you hang out with Chloe and Brooke...?”

“Yeah,” he admitted, “but you came to visit me, so... we should still hang.”

You couldn’t help but smile at that. “Sure,” you said, fiddling with your hair, “that’d be great, Jake.”

Jake reached out for you, and immediately pulled you into an awkward hug. “Fuck, dude, Rich was right about you.”

“About me being cool, or...?”

“He said you’re really fuckin’ nice, since you helped him out with something.” He shrugged, “are you two... not friends?”

“I, uh - we are, sorta-”

“Good.” He said, “Rich is a good dude to his friends, y’know.”

“What about your house?” You asked.

Jake’s smile fell, “I mean... I think it was an accident. Since, y’know, Rich wouldn’t just burn my house down, right?”

You nodded. “Right.” Stepping back away from the bed, you smiled once more, “I hope you get out of here soon, Jake.”

On your way out of the hospital, you stood in the gift shop for far too long, occupied with your own thoughts. So Rich had been talking about you - and, whatever he said aside from you being nice, helpful, and cooler than you seem, it had been enough to make Jake Dillinger think the two of you were friends. You almost smiled at the idea, but the underlying feeling that Rich would wake up and immediately ditch you lingered within the pit of your stomach. Shaking your head, you dismissed the thought as you headed out to your car. You had things to do.

After all, you shouldn’t dwell.

Over a week later, there’s this uneasy feeling that’s stuck with you from the first moment you saw Rich in that hospital bed. Uncertainty? Fear? You weren’t sure - but it dwelled within the pit of your stomach, making you doubt every move no matter whether you or your SQUIP made it. You’d just gotten home from hanging out with Michael and Jeremy at the mall, your backpack swung from your shoulder to the foot of your bed, and you nearly collapse as you sit down. Slowly, you sank your head into your hands, warm against your face before you finally let go and fall back onto your bed. When you uncovered your face, your SQUIP had materialized before you.

It leaned over you. “Is there a problem? You should be happy since you spent time with Jeremy-”

“I am, I just-” You paused for a moment, “I just don’t feel like I’m.. me anymore.”

“You are you, [y/n].”

You nodded slowly in agreement, before propping yourself up on your elbows. “Right, but... I feel like you’re taking control of everything and I’m - I’m just... fake.”

It raised a brow at the mere idea. “You’re far from artificial.”

Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you couldn’t help but feel... off. “But you don’t let me control things-”

With a heavy sigh, your SQUIP shook it’s head before pacing around your room. “That’s because we’re still in phase B of our plan. Once we get to phase C, you’ll have more control-”

“And when will that be?”

It looked back at you, slowing to a stop. “Once we pin down Jeremy’s feelings for you, you can be more yourself.”

After a moment, you sank back against your bed, shutting your eyes for a moment. “I hope you’re right.”

“Of course I’m right. After all, relationships are like this...”

You opened your eyes again. “What?”

“Faking it until you get it? Revealing yourself when you have them? It’s very common, [y/n].”

When it said that, you couldn’t help but feel skeptical. But when you tried to remember your last relationship (or, rather, a weak attempt at one), it felt so distant that you were unsure of how it had went. Yet you nod along nonetheless. The feeling of of dread stayed with you.

And it continued to stay attached to you like a shadow over the next few days. Even when you found yourself sitting on Michael’s bed, a pillow hugged against your chest as he and Jeremy were ecstatically talking about one of Michael’s latest finds from the guy at Spencer’s. You’d zoned out for the time being, thoughts more preoccupied with what was to come. How much longer would it be until you had control over yourself again?

But your SQUIP’s voice jarred you from your thoughts. “We need to go.”

As Michael pulled out a bottle of red soda, a slightly faded plastic label reading MOUNTAIN DEW RED crinkling as he did, you held back a frown at your SQUIP. “[y/n],” Michael said with a smile, holding it out, “you want one?”

“Hell yeah, dude-” You had began as you reached for it, barely getting it within your grasp before a shock rang through your hand, a small hiss of pain emitting from you as the bottle hit the floor. “Shit, sorry, Michael-”

But a flash of pain cut you off before you could try to explain anything away. Your voice was distant as you heard yourself speak, bullshitting some excuse as you lost control of your body - it moving on it’s own despite your desperate attempts to take back what was yours. You managed to take control back the moment you got outside, knees weak and the following shock was enough to send you crashing onto your knees.

“What the fuck?!” You snapped, speaking aloud as another shock ran through you. “FUCK-”

“I told you we need to leave.”

“I didn’t want to-”

“[y/n], we-”

“No!” You snapped once more, “no - this is still my life - I want to-” Your speech devolved as you struggled to word your thoughts, “it was just a soda!” Another shock ran through you. “What the fuck- come on - I just- it was just-”

And then it all made sense. The panic. The sudden change. How close had you been? How fucking close had you been? When you tried to get back up and turn yourself around, you found yourself fighting for control all over again as your body turned away from Michael’s house, every step forcing you farther and farther from salvation.

“[y/n]!” Michael’s voice rang clear out across his front lawn, and before you could try to do anything, he was running up to you - catching you by the wrist. “Hey - what the fuck, dude? Are you okay? What just happened-”

But he stopped, staring at you. You, completely terrified and shaking and fighting for control of your own fucking body. You were, to put it simply, a mess. Disheveled, hands twitchy, breathing labored as you forced yourself to stay planted where you were. You broke through, “get the Mountain Dew Red” slipping past your lips in a hiss before another shock of pain sparks through you, and you’re pulling yourself away from Michael once more.

A door slammed. Before you could go anywhere, Michael’s footsteps pound against the pavement as he tackled you to the ground. Your body fought against him. He managed to grab you by the wrists, pinning you down, his knees at your abdomen as you continued to thrash against your will against him.

“[y/n]-” Michael began, before his nails dug into your skin, “what the literal fuck is going on?”

Tears streamed down your cheeks as you fought for your voice. “I-” You managed to force past your lips, “I - I took this - pill,” your voice strained, and you kept fighting for control, “I thought Jeremy would like me but - but I fucked - I fucked up, Michael-” You were straight up about to breakdown, voice wavering with every forced syllable, “I’m so sorry, I just - I can’t-”

“[y/n].” It’s voice cut clearly through your mind, almost afraid for a second. “I promise - I’ll do better for you. We’ll scrap this plan and make a new one. You just have to let me try again. I promise-”

The door slammed once more, and Jeremy is rushing over, questioning everything along the way.

It turned nasty. “You’ll never be the same, [y/n],” it hissed, “think about it - if you keep me, you’ll be normal - you’ll never have to hurt again. If you get rid of me, you’ll never be accepted - you’ll be an outcast all over again, and Jeremy and Michael are guaranteed to hate you-”

The last things you remembered were the faintly fruity taste on your lips, a thousand questions flying around you, and an intense pain that seemed to completely split you in two as a scream tore it’s way out of you.

And then everything went black.

#mj's writing corner #bmc #be more chill reader insert #be more chill x reader #bmc reader insert #jeremy heere x reader #jeremy heere imagine #god i hope my quick proofreading was enough to catch anything tht wasnt finished-

31 notes · View notes