but she is getting prettier and prettier

Prove It || Jack Maynard Imagine

“Would it be okay if I called you princess?” A voice whispers into my ear. I laugh rolling my eyes.

“What do you want Maynard?” I ask turning around to face him. We’re stood in a basically empty library, I was previously glancing over the many shelves.

“Go on a date with me?” He says grabbing my hand in his softly.

“We’ve been through this,” I say shaking my head averting my gaze from him and back to the many books. I pull my hand away from him to pull out a story.

“Yes,” He begins,“But I’ve also explained to you that I’m not that guy anymore.”

“Prove it,” I say crossing my arms over my chest, silently challenging him.

“Fine,” He says spinning on his heel, walking away from me.

What has gotten into that boy?

It had been a few days since the encounter with Jack at the library and I hadn’t seen him since. Joe and Conor have both tried to call me, but each and every time I would decline their calls. But today the both of them had been calling me constantly.

“Fucking hell,” I mutter under my breath answering the phone, “Hello?” my voice thick with annoyance.

“Finally,” Conor’s voice comes booming through the phone, “Have you been online today?”

“No?” I ask skeptically.

“Open your laptop and log into twitter,” Doing as he says my eyes trail over Jacks most recent tweet.

It’s a screenshot of a note that he had written on his phone. It reads,

There is this girl. She’s the most beautiful, smart, kind, funny. She’s perfect in every way imaginable. Her H/C hair, Her beautiful smile, her lips, her nose, her arms, her legs, her hands, her feet, Each and every part of this amazing human is absolutely perfect. Her eyes, her gorgeous H/C eyes, it’s my favorite color. She’s my best friend. She’s the single most intelligent person I know. But she has one fault… she doesn’t realize how amazing and beautiful she is.

My eyes well with tears.

She gets prettier and prettier each and every time I see her. She’s outstandingly gorgeous, but that’s the least interesting thing about her. She makes me laugh so hard that my sides ache, Smile so big that I feel that my cheeks are going to tear in half. She’s an absolute weirdo, but that’s one of the main reasons I like this girl.

“Y/N?” Conor’s voice breaks my thoughts.

“I need to talk to your brother,” I say distractedly, Searching for a jacket.

“No need, he’s outside your door.” Conor hangs up after that. Placing my phone down on the counter top, I rush over to the door, opening it at lightning speed.

“Jack,” I breathe, Eyes raking over his bashful face, and down to the bouquet of roses. My hands come up to cover my mouth.

“Okay, I’m going to ask you this one more fucking time,” He laughs making me laugh, “Y/N, you are my best friend, Will you please be my girlfriend?”

I bite my lip nervously, taking a step forwards towards him I place my lips on him softly.

9 crimes

Pairing: Eliza Schuyler x Reader

Summary: There are 10 things a person should never do under any circumstances. Throughout all your life you did 9 out of those 10. 

or the story of two little girls who fell in love and of two women who had to bury those feelings. 

Word count: 1,668

Time period: Hamiltime

Warnings: None (yet).

Note: This is a big work that’s going to be divided into three parts. Each one with 3 ‘crimes’. It may be confusing at the start as to what exactly are the crimes (or maybe it’s really obvious and I think is not) but at the end, I think everyone is going to get it. Also, I was experimenting with the narration again so… let’s see how that goes. I hope you like it, guys!  ♡

Extra information: I didn’t mention it in the text but the reader is the same age as Peggy, so is one year younger than Eliza and two years younger than Angelica. Oh and they’re neighbors. 

Lovely tag list: @aph-icelandey  @caspercassiecas  @coolbeanbinch @divergentphangirl101  @fairly–local–trashcan  @hamgurlphangirl @huffleheyguys @leidilaurens @myself-and-the-madman @squabblelion @strawbirby @tomatobasilisk @uniidust 

(I took the likes into account but if you didn’t want to get tagged don’t hesitate and tell me to erase you from the list and please forgive my mistake ;v;) 

________________________________ 

First.

You were seven when you felt the closest to hell, but God forbid your mother to heard you say that or she would take you to church every single day.

Heat pushed in on you, making you felt claustrophobic even though you were outside. The humidity was almost overwhelming; it was like breathing in bath water. Your cheeks were tinted in a beautiful red and sweat rolled down your forehead sticking strands of your bangs to your skin. It was not pleasant at all but the daisies surrounding you made it all worth it.

You wondered if there were daisies in hell. ‘Maybe if Lucifer was given some flowers he would smile and wouldn’t be as bad as people in church say he is’ you thought, playing with one of the blossoms in your hand ‘Or maybe he and God could go and have tea…’  

Somehow that line of thought ended with you making a flowers crown. It wasn’t perfect, the ones your nanny used to make were way better but it was good enough not to crumble at the touch and it looked pretty. You were proud of yourself.

And just when you were planning to go back home to show your creation to your mother and father someone approached to you. It was a girl. She was even redder than you, —you didn’t know if it was for the weather or because she apparently had been running— with her ponytail almost undone and her eyes full of tears.  

Both of you looked at each other with surprise, not having anticipated finding someone else.

“Why are you crying?” you couldn’t help to ask.

She sniffed, rubbing her eyes with the sleeve of her dress “I’m not cr-crying…”

“Yes you are” you pointed out, standing up and searching in your pockets for the handkerchief you always carried with you “But that’s alright” you assured her with a smile, handing her the white object “We all cry, even my mum does it sometimes”

She shyly accepted the handkerchief and softly wiped her tears away “But I don’t like it” she mumbled “Peggy makes fun of me”

“Peggy?”

“My sister. She says I look ugly when I cry”

You observed her again, thoughtfully this time. And noticed her long and still wet eyelashes, her button nose and how bright her eyes actually were. It was almost unbelievable that someone dared to say she looked bad.  

“I think you look more like an apple” you acknowledged and she frowned, not being pleased with your statement “B-but a nice apple! Like those my nanny uses to make a pie. They’re bright red and beautiful. Totally the best apples!” you explained yourself, maybe getting too excited about it because you somehow made her laugh. It was a soft sound, sweet and contagious. You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped your lips.  

“You could be the Apple goddess” you proposed, taking your flowers crown and softly placing it on her head.

“Why not just a queen?”

“I don’t know” you shrugged “I just think goddess sounds prettier than queen”  

She seemed to think of it for a moment, moving her lips to form the words in a soundless whisper. Then nodded and stared at you with a bright smile.

“Yes, it sounds prettier”

Second.

When you were ten, you heard the word for the first time in the mouth of someone who was not your parents: Love.

You were still young, a child with three friends who were playing in their father’s fields.

“Love is all mom talks about recently,” said Peggy, mouth scrunched into a frown.

“Such a nonsensical concept” Angelica added, stretching beside her “If I could be tempted to it, it would be for someone whose mind challenges my own, a storm in wit”

You tilted your head back, letting the sun brush gently down your face and feeling Eliza’s fingers still braiding your hair softly.

“I’d do it for someone who brightens my day and motivates me to be better,” you said with a little smile on your mouth “Someone who makes the stars seem to shine brighter”

Peggy looked at you, then at Angelica and laughed lightly.

“You’ve just said the same thing the fairy tales do” she teased, but then her eyes seemed to be filled with excitement and curiosity as she sat closer to you “It must be that you are already in love with someone!”

“She is not” Eliza blurted out and you could imagine the little frown on her face “If you love someone he needs to court you and ask for your hand to marry you. And (Y/N) is not being courted by anyone”

Angelica smiled and patted her sister’s head “What a silly notion you have of love, dear”

“Wait, is not like that?” Eliza asked, turning her face to Angelica with a confused expression.

“Of course not, you dumbo” Peggy said among giggles “You love someone when the stork leaves a baby on your door”

“What does that have to do with love?” you asked back, noticing how Peggy’s hand got closer to you hair to take one of the flowers that Eliza had pinned in it just to be lightly slapped away by her sister.

“Ouch!” Peggy cried, giving Eliza a grumpy look “Well, you have to love someone to have a baby!”

“Yes, but you have to love them before that” at least that was what your mother had told you, “I think loving someone is when you give them the last cookie even if you want to eat it too”

The youngest of the Schuyler sisters laughed again “That can’t be love!”

“Why not?”

“Because if it was, Eliza would be in love with you”

You stayed silent for a few seconds, analyzing different sceneries in your head to then finally turn your head to Eliza, whose hands had started trembling a little against your hair.

“None of you have a single clue of what love is” Angelica sighed, shaking her head. “It worries me that because of that you’d give your heart to someone who does not deserve it”  

“We won’t,” you said, and the three sisters stared at you with inquiry in their eyes “Because we now have a

love amulet

” you stated happily as you took off the small necklace you had around your neck. It was a simple gold chain with a gold heart hanging from it.

“A love amulet?” Eliza repeated as you gently turned around to place it in her hands.

“Yes, we just have to wear it when someone wants to courter us and somehow we will know if that person is the indicated”  

Eliza and Peggy seemed to believe it’ll work and nodded excitedly.  Angelica had a doubtful expression but finally nodded too. It was a sweet irony that she was the first one to wear it three years later.

Third.

You were sixteen the first time you felt it. It had hit you like a brick. Love.

Eliza was sitting beside you, her delicate fingers glided in circles at your hands.

“I can’t play like this” you whispered and she smiled.

“You don’t have to” was her answer, soft and melodic like the sound of the piano keys.

Dix begs to differ” you joked resting your head against hers.

“Hmm” with a loving expression on her face, she placed her hands on the piano and played the little melody again. You pulled apart slightly, just enough for her to reach all the keys “Une, deux, trois, quatre, cinq, six, sept, huit, neuf…”

“Dix,” you said.

Eliza shook her head in a “no” sign and took your hands again, motioning you to play the piece.

You rolled your eyes but indulged her anyway, brushing the keys with your fingers in a soft movement “Une, deux, trois—” Eliza leaned in closer and placed a light kiss on your cheek, you smiled “quatre, cinq, six—” another one, this time on your chin “sept, huit, neuf—”

Before you could add the dix Eliza pressed her lips against yours. It was just a touch, it didn’t last more than a second. A chaste affection that was as soft as the spring breeze.  

You tended to kiss a lot because that’s what children do, that’s what best friends do. You kissed on the forehead, the cheek, the eyelids, the nose, the chin… but never on the lips. Never like this.

You froze, she blushed, and the room was filled with silence. The soft and almost inexistent echo of the forgotten melody was the only thing you could hear. For the first time, the silence was not comfortable and it made your hands sweat and Eliza’s eyes to get glassy.

“I… didn’t…” her voice trembled, her gaze wouldn’t meet yours.

“Please don’t” you pleaded in a whisper. ‘Don’t say you didn’t mean it’.

She looked at you this time and you closed the distance between your mouths with another kiss. Tenderly and almost shyly you let your lips to brush against hers, slowly exploring the softness of the feeling and the taste of her breath. The movement was clumsy and innocent, slow and delicate… but then she kissed you back and it was perfect.

When you pulled apart, you were greeted with her flushed face and widened eyes. You to let out a little laugh.

I swear to God if the only reason why you kissed me was to shut me up before I reached ten I’m not going to forgive you,” you said, pressing your forehead against hers.

She laughed too “It was one of the reasons, but not the main one”

Eliza placed her right hand on your nape and started playing absentmindedly with your hair. You closed your eyes and sighed contently.

The sound of her voice gave you butterflies, her smile made your heart skip a beat, every time you were with her you felt so complete… You should’ve known it before; of course it was love.

Imagine James and Lily as an old couple

• James is absolutely horrified when his hair starts to turn gray.
• But than much to everyone’s annoyance he looks like a fricking anime character and his hair remains messy and full until the very end
• Lily makes this really horrible pranks like she doesn’t remember people or stories and practically kills James every time she does it
• James loves to tell anyone who will listen about their romance and how it started
• He goes into the most meaningless details and bores his grandchildren, shoppers, baristas, nursing stuff, doctors and even random people on the street
• but they all listen because he tells it with such excitement and with sparks in his eyes
• they are both forced into retirement eventually because they won’t quit
• “ old?!?! What do you mean old?!?! Of course I can bloody go on a mission I just need a hand out of this chair”
• when they are finally retire they spend every possible moment with their grand children
• and are OF COURSE the best grandparents ever
• James spoils them waaay too much
• Lily just never says no to them
• they love to go to the park together with or without the kids
• they sit on a bench in the sun, Lily’s head on James’s shoulder as she reads him a story
• because he can’t see -let alone read- a bloody thing (but would never ever admit it)
• they also kiss a lot
• especially in public
• both of them are so proud to be “high school sweethearts” who are still very much in love
• James tells Lily everyday that she is only getting prettier with age
• Lily would brag about all of her family’s successes even the silliest things
• “oh how nice that your son is a healer BUT my grandson just burned down his house while discovering his magic!”
• Lily learns how to knit and loves it
• James loves watching her while she sits on the sofa with her little glasses at the edge of her little nose and just stare at her in awe
• she really did got only prettier with age
• they host a brunch almost every sunday
• and they invite EVERYONE over for every single holiday
• and James tells the same old lame dad jokes every year
• and Lily keeps on laughing even after over 70 holidays together
• Harry calls them every single day and still asks them for advice about everything
• Harry sings to his kids a lullaby that Lily used to sing to him
• which makes Lily so very happy because it’s a muggle lullaby that her father sang to her
• they have a competition to see which one can outlive the other one
• but inside both of them want to loose
• because after all these years they don’t even want to imagine life without the other

I Miss You

 Request: “39 and 49?? thank you :)”

39. “Please come home, I miss you.”

49. “I’m too sober for this.”





I ran quickly into my dressing room after my show. Tonight was boys night, although it is like that almost every night of this tour. The only difference was is that I’m not going home to y/n like I did 2 months ago. Speaking of which, I should probably call y/n since I promised her a FaceTime call home tonight. I pick up my phone and dial y/n’s number and put it on speaker before propping it up on a pillow. Waiting for y/n to answer, I unbutton my shirt and try to find a different shirt in my suitcase. 

“Hey babe!”

I pop up from my suitcase so y/n could see my face from over the couch. “Hey! Why do you get prettier and prettier everyday?”

“You’re funny because this morning sickness is kicking my butt. Thankfully it should be ending soon, since I’m already 4 months.”

“Well my wife looks gorgeous.” She blushes and pushes her hair out of her face, showing me her wedding rings. “God, I’m so in love with you.”

“How was tonight’s show?”

“Amazing, as always. The crowd was so alive tonight and so loud! Also, someone asked if we’ve started to think about names and what I’m hoping for.”

“And what did you say?”

“At first I said a girl, then I said a boy, then I said as long as they’re healthy I’m happy.” Y/n starts to cry a little bit. “Darling, why are you crying?”

“It’s these stupid hormones. I started crying when I dropped an orange on the floor the other day. Like what the heck, it’s just an orange hitting the floor.” She wipes away her tears. “Okay, I’m good now.”

“I mean I would cry too if my food dropped on the ground.”

A knock sounded at my door. “Hey dude! Hurry up we’re leaving soon!”

“Okay! Let me finish getting ready!” I shout back to Matt.

“Going out tonight?” Y/n asks.

“Yeah,” I hold up two shirts that I’m trying to chose between. “Is it okay if I go out?”

“Yeah, of course. I don’t know you’re asking me it’s not like I’m your mom. Go out and have fun.” She lets out a little laugh. “By the way, wear the red shirt because it looks hot on you.”

“Okay, sounds good.” I slip off my other shirt that was already unbuttoned and put on the red shirt. “Well hun, I have to go.”

Y/n’s smile slowly fades, “Alright, I love you!”

“I love you too! I miss you..”

“Only one month to go. We can do it. This isn’t the first tour you’ve had in this relationship. Go out and have fun.”

“Okay.” 

Y/n yawns. “Well, I’m gonna go to bed. Goodnight, love you.”

“Goodnight, love you too.” Y/n smiles and shortly hangs up after. I put my phone in my pocket then walk over to where my hair stuff is. I fix my hair a little bit, put on more deodorant and cologne, then headed to the door.

“Woah, dude. Some warning next time would be nice.”

“Well I didn’t know you’d be leaning against the door.”

“Eh whatever. Let’s go! Bro night tonight! WOO!” I laugh and run with Matt to the car.




After getting off the phone with Shawn, I pack the last few things I needed in my suitcase before the flight to where Shawn is. Matt talked to me a few days ago asking if I want to come and surprise him at one of his shows. Obviously I accepted; I wouldn’t turn down the chance to surprise him.  My plane takes off at 11:00pm and right now it is about 8:30pm. I need to quickly pack and leave so I get there by at least 10pm.

An hour later.

I just finished packing because I accidentally fell asleep on the couch. I call an uber to take me to the airport. On the entire way there, I kept thinking about how I’m gonna be seeing Shawn for the first time in 3 months. I’m so happy to see him again. It’ll shock him so much because he’s not even expecting my visit. He’ll also get to see my tiny baby bump that is starting to show. We finally get to the airport and the driver helps me get my luggage out of the trunk. I give him a tip for being so nice and kind, then go in and check in. Thankfully, the line for the check- in wasn’t as long as I expected it to be. Once I finished checking in, I headed to security for my bag check. I slipped off my shoes, took off my sweater and my jewelry, and place all of my items on the conveyor belt. I walk through the metal detector, then wait for my stuff after they’re done looking at them. The security guard helped me carry my luggage to a bench so I can put all of my stuff back on. 

“Whoever got to put that ring on your hand is a lucky man.”

“Thank you, I’m very lucky to have him in my life.”

“You’re welcome and have a safe flight.” He says before walking away. I find gate 11, which was the gate for my flight. The flight doesn’t depart until 11, and it is already 10:45. Thankfully I woke up from my nap when I did otherwise I would’ve missed my flight. After passing the flight attendant, I found my seat and waited for the announcements they say before take off. Although they were saying information I should’ve paid attention to, I was zoning out the window picturing seeing the love of my life in 8 hours.




“Another shot of tequila, please.”

“Coming right up.” says the bartender

It’s been an hour of drinking and I’m starting to feel a bit tipsy, but not enough.

“Hey man. How’s it going?” Matt says as he sits down in the bar stool next to me.

“It’s going okay.” I say as I stir around the whisky in my glass.

“What’s wrong?”

“Just missing y/n. I wish I could be there to help her through all the rough parts, but I had to leave for this tour.”

“She knows that you love her and you’d be there for her if you could. She also knows that your career is important and that you need to go on tours sometimes.”

“I’m too sober for this, man.” I say before downing the shot that was placed in front of me. The bartender fills another shot glass, but I hold up two fingers so he fills up another.

“Dude, slow down though.” Matt laughs.

“What’s stopping you?” I say as I offer him a shot.

“You’re gonna regret this tomorrow…”

“No I won’t.” Matt and I then down a shot.

An hour later

I’m gonna admit that I’m pretty drunk right now. But I haven’t had this much fun since my 19th birthday, even though that was 8 years ago. Mind you, y/n and I’s honeymoon was pretty fun for many reasons. Right now I’m on the dance floor with Matt, Brian, and Ian. A young lady, who looks about 21, comes walking our way and starts dancing with us. Dancing was actually fun until she tries to start grinding with me. 

“I’m sorry I can’t do this.” I shout to her over the music.

“Come on! It’ll be fun! Plus she doesn’t have to know.” She must’ve noticed the ring on my hand.

“Listen, you’re very pretty and I’m sure you can get any guy in this club. I love my wife very much and I can’t do that to her.” 

“Whatever.” She says before walking to Matt then Ian, but both reject her.

“Come on, let’s go, before more like her come over.” Ian says before looping one of my arms over his shoulders and I put my other arm around Matt.

When we get to the car, I sit in the passenger, Matt gets in the drivers side, and Ian and Brian sit in the backseat. We were only 15 minutes away from the hotel, but it felt like it was forever.

“Dude! This is my jam!” I quickly turn up the volume so that it could be heard through the businesses outside on the street. “I WANNA FOLLOW WHERE SHE GOES! I THINK ABOUT HER AND SHE KNOWS IT!” screaming out the words.

“Shawn, this is your song..” said Brian.

“I know! It’s amazing. Such a classic.”

“No, man. I mean you made this song.”

“Okay, but it’s still the best song out there.”

“Cocky much?” Not listening to what Brian was saying, I still belted out the words. 2017 was the best year by far, but my albums after Illuminate are still great because I explored different types of sound. My fans have supported me throughout the years and I honestly wouldn’t be here without them.

After arriving to the hotel, my best friends helped me into the elevator. By now, everything in my vision was swimming and very disoriented. 

“I don’t feel so good.”

“Whatever you do, don’t throw up on my shoes.” said Brian.

“I told you that you’d regret this.” remarked Matt.

“Don’t tell y/n about this, please.” I say looking at Matt.

“Good luck with that, she’s seeing you tomorrow.” laughed Ian.

“She’s what?”

“Ian, shut up.” Matt slapped Ian on the arm. “He said nothing.”

“Okay, I don’t really care just get me to my room.” The elevator bell rang, telling us we got to the floor that our rooms were on. As soon as the doors opened up, the boys rushed me to my room?”

“Where’s your room key?” questioned Matt as Ian and Brian headed to their rooms.

“I think it’s in my jacket.. no wait it’s in my back pocket. Left cheek.”

“Are you fucking seri-” Matt sighs. “Fine. You’re lucky you’re my best friend.” He reaches into my pocket. “It isn’t there.”

“Right cheek.”

He checks that pocket and took out the card. “Just for future reference, I’m not doing that again because it was fucking awkward.” He says as he swipes the card and opens the door.

Immediately I rush to the toilet and empty my stomach of what it contained. I rinsed my mouth out with water and brushed my teeth. I hated vomiting, although I don’t think anyone thoroughly enjoys it. I make my way to my bed and I see that Matt set out some water bottles I had in my fridge and set some Advil next to it. 

“I put some Advil that you can take when you wake up. You’re going to have a terrible headache in the morning. Anyways, if you need anything text me and I’ll come over.” he walks over to the door.

“Thanks, Matt.”

“Yup, goodnight.” He left and closed the door quietly behind him. I take off my shirt and my pants so all I’m in is my boxers. All that sounds good right now is sleep, so I pull back the sheets and fall down on the pillows. I passed out as soon as I fell onto the bed.




Hours later. 7 am.

My plane landed a while ago and I had just arrived to Shawn’s room. I lightly knock on the door, only to get the response of: “Go away.” So I knocked again and finally he came to answer the door. 

“What do you want? Y/N! YOU’RE HERE!” He shouts and the holds a hand up to his head in pain. Shawn takes me into a hug, but he notices that my belly had gotten a little bigger because of the baby. His eyes lit up in joy and pulled me inside his room and closed the door behind me. “Has it honestly been that long?”

“It’s only been a few months, but yeah.” 

Shawn gets down on his knees so that his face is in front of my stomach. “I’m so sorry I left you and mommy all alone back home. I promise I will come home soon.” He kisses my stomach then stands back up to give me a kiss. The taste on his lips was mint mixed with a little bit of alcohol from the night before. He deepens the kiss a little by pulling me as close as he can and adds tongue. I put my hands on the back of his head and tug his hair a little, completely forgetting that he had a headache. “Ow.” he says in reply to my action.

“I’m sorry.” I say as I pull back. “I forgot.”

“It’s okay.” He walks over to the nightstand next to the bed and takes the medicine that was already set out for him.

“Had a little too much fun last night?” I laugh and lay down on the best next to him. 

“Yeah, but I hardly remember it. All I remember is screaming out the lyrics to ‘There’s Nothing Holdin’ Me Back’.” He says as he lays down next to me and pulls me close.

I lay my head down on his shoulder, “they still play that song?”

“I guess they do.” He laughs, but holds his head again.

“If you drink like this again in five months..” I look up at him. “It’ll be like I’m taking care of two babies at home.”

“Oh shut up.” He says and we both smile.

Hyerin looks super cute with her new weave (even if it’s kind of messy) and I’m glad her long hair is back. Her cut was gorgeous during the Street era but I wasn’t a fan of the length and bangs of her most recent ‘do. She’s getting prettier and prettier (like inside, like outside). ♥

2

‘But of course I do really like you,’ Jayce said, frowning. ‘You’re the most beautiful gi- the most beautiful being I’ve ever seen’. With that he touched her cheek gently. Was it physically possible to catch fire from over-blushing? Because she just might have done exactly that.

‘But this is so not true,’ she objected trying to bring this overwhelming conversation down to earth before she fainted once again. ‘There are lots of women prettier than me. Objectively prettier,’ she stated.

‘First of all, pretty and beautiful are two different things,’ he retorted with wry smile. ‘Second, I can’t think of anyone’. He shrugged. ‘Nope, no one’.

‘You’re- Hey, I think I see your friends out there, on the second floor’, she gestured toward the balcony where she just spotted the blue head of Mr.Hawaii.

‘Fuckkkk’, Jayce groaned, taking her hand in his again. ‘Come on, Trinidad, we’d better get out of here’.


‘Who do you think she is?’ Monroe asked, watching Jayce taking his girlfriend away from the club.

‘She is… our leverage’, Blue Hawaii replied with a grin.

eorlsdotter  asked:

Question! I noticed - maybe I'm wrong - that in all the adaptations, the casting for the main characters is similar: Darcy is dark haired, and so is Lizzie; Jane is blonde and (for some fascinating reason) Bingley is ginger-y. Is there a reason? something in the books that I missed? Some extra source? It seemed too much a coincidence (although I do love Ginger Bingley) thanks!!!

First off, I’m going to refer back to Mullan’s What Matters in Jane Austen? again, because he’s done a whole chapter on what her characters look like (and starts off with a basic examination of casting choices in adaptations and the admiration or outrage which always follows.) “How people look is often suggested rather than specified in Austen’s novels.” He then goes on to quote Sterne’s Tristram Shandy, “…paint her to your own mind–as like your mistress as you can–as unlike your wife as your conscience will let you.”

All we know of Jane is that she is considered very beautiful–as much is said by Bingley, her mother (who has no difficulty criticizing her children when they displease her,) and even Darcy must admit it as a fact. Looks are important in novels where often penniless girls must rely on other attractions in their manners and person–”…words used so frequently about characters when we first meet them: handsome, pretty, gentlemanlike, elegant…”. And yet she avoids specifics–perhaps as a reaction to other novels of her era, where a heroine’s precise points of beauty are totted up among her other virtues to make her a peerless wonder. Austen’s heroines are often described by other characters, rather than the narration, as it’s important to consider who is looking, and how, when looking at their judgements. Some people use a mention in Jane Austen’s letters about Jane wearing the colour green and Elizabeth preferring yellow to be some kind of marker of what their haircolours must have been in Austen’s mind’s eye, but that’s a tenuous argument at best, and if Austen had wanted the world in general to know imagined particulars about Jane and Elizabeth, she would have set them down in the text.

We know Elizabeth’s eyes are fine, and dark, but beyond that, we are given no details. On a genetic level, dark eyes are far more likely to occur in people with darker hair, but Austen wasn’t working with genetics–and dark eyes paired with lighter hair can sometimes be a rare sign of remarkable beauty, as in the descriptions of Irene in Galsworthy’s Forsyte Saga books. (A description which was entirely ignored in the casting of my future wife Gina McKee, but then Irene’s beauty and her allure is such a pivotal force in the novels that to pin it down as necessarily belonging to certain shades of colouring is to make it more trite than it truly is. Irene’s beauty is something beyond what one sees at first glance–it is transcendent charm.)

Dark could mean brown, or also a very dark blue or grey–it’s impossible to tell, exactly. Anne Elliott’s eyes are mild and dark, Fanny Price’s are soft and light, Harriet Smith’s are blue, Jane Fairfax’s a deep grey, (and her lashes and eyebrows called dark, giving us some notion of the likely shade of her hair,) Mary Crawford’s are sparkling and dark…eyes are often the only thing near to a solid description we are given of physical attributes, and even then half of the description is more to do with the expression of the personality or feeling of the character through their glances and gazes, rather than specifically the colour of their irises. (Only Emma Woodhouse’s exact eye-colour is known–they are “hazle” and no adaptation so far has given enough of a shit to make certain of casting.) Marianne Dashwood has very dark eyes, and there is a general comparative description of the figures of the two sisters–but casting directors rarely, if ever, I think, take specifics of figures into account beyond an ‘acceptable’ level of Hollywood slimness.

Now, for the casting trends (exceptions to the pattern you laid out being the 1940 P&P’s Greer Garson being a dirty-blonde/light brown Elizabeth, while Maureen O’Sullivan’s Jane had very dark hair; and the 1980 miniseries with Elizabeth Garvie’s Eliza also having light brown hair while Sabina Franklyn’s Jane was several shades darker–but indeed, the two more recent and well-known adaptations of 1995 and 2005 have the colourings you mentioned,) it’s probably just down to Hollywood mechanics where you’re going to have to combine the tropes of a comparative Ugly Duckling sister as well as a Best Friend/Beta Couple plotline. Coding a blonde woman (or man) as ‘good’ and a darker-haired person as ‘less good’ has been a Thing since long before cinema showed up on the scene. There’s a reason Laura Ingalls spends so much time inwardly (and outwardly) bitching about her sister Mary’s luck in being blonde (and also better-behaved, though this is never explicitly tied to the fact that Mary is blonde, but just ties INTO the overall notion that Mary is The Better Daughter.) Dark-haired heroines throughout older literature have bemoaned their lack of golden locks (notably also in LM Montgomery’s works, with Anne Shirley’s famous sensitivity about her hair being red, but also briefly in Emily Starr’s contemplation of her own black hair and atypical looks, which gets a bit of verse thrown at it which I can’t find sourced anywhere else so must have been made up by Montgomery herself: “If the bards of old the truth have told the sirens had raven hair. But over the earth since art had birth, they paint the angels fair.“

So culturally, in the west, there’s a pervasive notion (especially when it comes to women,) that dark-haired women are the ‘darker’ side of their humanity…the temptresses, the more-likely-to-be-bad. (Though any reasonable reader would be like “…well, they’re human, you see, not out-and-out evil.”) But of course anyone compared to the fair-haired saintly paragon of womanhood would look bad–and so equally is the angelic blonde woman a trope in literature, often but not always used in comparisons against her brunette foil.

In cinema, quite often it’s just to better differentiate between characters, and to use these assumptions which are deeply entrenched in our cultures to play upon our immediate and almost instinctive reactions to visual cues. Jane is super-good, so she’s blonde. Bingley is likewise a bright and easy-going character, with more elements of comedy about him, so he’s got lighter hair, too, either as a strawberry blonde or redhead–but he is definitely the sidekick. I, personally, would be all for a ginger Darcy. Or a ginger-everybody P&P. (But that’s not going to happen, because redheaded men are culturally de-sexed/made less masculine or attractive, whereas redheaded women are more inclined to be overly-sexualized. Humanity is weird.) Darcy is a brooding brunette, because darker hair in the case of a male character gives them gravitas and mystery. It’s that damn Byronic thing coming into play. Dark hair, dark secrets. It’s a visual construct we’ve trapped ourselves into, at this point. Also, when you’ve got two love-stories running more or less concurrently, an audience needs visual markers to help them quickly identify and individualize (and therefore emotionally-invest in) the characters. More morally-dubious and fascinating hero and heroine Elizabeth and Darcy are brunettes because we see them making mistakes and drawing our attention by being fuck-ups. Lizzie can’t be the Prettier Sister, so she’s more automatically made the Brunette Underdog. Darcy is brooding and mysterious–so it’s very easy to make him dark-haired. Their contrasts are in their secondary characters–Jane and Bingley. Jane is prettier, and good-hearted (moreso than Eliza, anyway,) so she ascends to Blonde. Bingley is the Good Friend, and seemingly with fewer social defects compared to Darcy, so as the Nice Man, he gets lighter hair to also differentiate him from Darcy and make him more matchy-matchy with Jane. Our brains are making these connections based on visuals even before we’ve gotten half a dozen words of dialogue from any of these people.

This happens often in films and TV shows–in Coppola’s Dracula, Sadie Frost (a natural brunette) was made a vibrant redhead as Lucy to contrast to Winona Ryder’s more sedate and mysterious Mina. (Though this also had the fun effect of tying in a possible reference to the historical link between redhaired people and vampires, and the whole mythos of redhaired women in particular and sexual allure/witchcraft/spiritual evil–particularly as THIS version of Lucy is much more heavily sexualized compared to her book counterpart. I don’t know how much of the hair-colour-change was on purpose from Coppola’s perspective, and largely it’s just handwaved as being so people could really tell apart the ONLY TWO MAJOR FEMALE CHARACTERS IN THE FILM, but personally I think it’s an interesting choice–particularly compared to Katie McGrath’s blonde Lucy.) Again, we see the contrasting of virtue coded in hair-colouring, as Lucy is a character known for her sweetness and purity…as well as being a secondary female character to the heroine, and hence her more-virtuous foil…with lighter hair. Mina’s place as an educated, working, and married woman, with a more active part in the narrative, particularly as her brushes with dark forces mark her as ‘unholy’, makes it easier to code her as ‘complicated’, i.e. a brunette. Interestingly, this is set on its head in Penny Dreadful, where Mina becomes the blonde, doomed damsel, and her friend/lover Vanessa is the raven-haired woman at the center of a maelstrom of fucked up shit full of vampires, witches, and devils. Essentially if you want your heroine to go ‘bad’ a little (or a lot), give her a better-by-comparison blonde friend and have at it.

Of course, since these tropes are so pervasive, we do see stories where this is purposefully mirrored or mocked, where the icy blonde is the femme fatale or turncoat who uses her appeal to deceive others–but this relies just as heavily on the initial assumption that a fair-haired character is intrinsically ‘better’ on a moral level.

To conclude, this is why I think we see that general trend with colouring when it comes to casting/styling these characters in cinematic adaptations, as we have really very little in the text to go on, but from the characters themselves there are long traditions to draw from for visual cues to quickly and adeptly condition audiences to draw certain assumptions about these characters which enable us to rapidly bond with and understand them to some degree. I want to specify “Western” audiences because the blonde/brunette thing is at its roots kind of a colourism thing which is grossly pervasive in a white supremacist society going back for centuries, and Caucasian beauty standards do not and should not apply globally; but as the media most of us are familiar with is dominated by this white heteronormative patriarchal history, these tropes and codings exist for ultimately gross reasons. Frankly we could all do without them from this day forward, but change can be slow and so these stereotypes continue to exist and blonde people on-screen for now often continue to be the tacit code for ‘these people are the purest bestest people’ while the darker-haired people are almost always more morally-grey, complicated–even troubling–and made more ‘fascinating’ by their more flawed natures. It’s a shitty way of doing things, but we’ve been culturally conditioned to respond to things like that, and so it works.

Anyway, thanks for asking this one–my answer went to places I wasn’t fully expecting me to go, but I enjoyed blowing the dust off my film studies qualifications and I always love yelling about culture.

agenderraskel  asked:

Is it ever talked about that JARVIS, who colored the suit gold before Tony told him to add red, predicted the color of Tony's metallics? Or did Howard and/or Maria have gold so it was a good chance?

It’s a non-power AU so nah. (Also the suit was gold because of the alloy, not because he colored it that way, I thought?) JARVIS mostly doesn’t mention Tony’s feathers except when Tony’s about to do an experiment that might damage them so he tells Tony to take precautionary measures. He doesn’t even mention Tony’s gotten his gold feathers because to JARVIS, that’s never mattered. Tony is still Tony no matter what color his feathers are. (They’d been patchy when he’d returned from Afghanistan and JARVIS had silently ordered the things to care for them without mentioning it to Tony, for example. Tony had voiced a quiet thanks but hadn’t said anything further so they just kind of operate on a level of quiet acceptance.)

Howard had black wings with platinum feathers. Maria had blue wings with gold feathers just on the verge of bronze. Most people would find the combination ugly or obtrusive, but Maria always dressed herself to make her wings look spectacular. (Tony got the red feathers from his grandfather on Howard’s side.) Maria always used to gush about how much prettier Tony’s wings would be than hers if he inherited her gold. Howard assured her that her wings were perfectly lovely and she told him “Yes, Howard, I know, but our son’s would be prettier” and Tony’s only sorry she never gets to see them.