#DAVIDS COSTUME IS DEFINITELY MY TOP PICK!!! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

impala666 · 4 years ago

Text

The One With The Monkey Part Three: The Party

Friends Rewrite (masterlist) Last Part (Part Two)

Ummm the reader meets Janice officially for the first time, and Rachel gets attacked at the airport.

You were feeling great today! Joey was keeping to his word that everything was going to be a little bit slower like you wanted. You slept on the couch a couple times and it was lumpy and really kind of sucked, but you were in such a good head space. Your head space was so good that you decided to sign a contract to officially start school, and it wasn’t cosmetology like you had originally planned. Instead you were going to Esthetician school and you were going to help people feel good in their own skin while wearing it, and you couldn’t be more happy and proud of yourself. You couldn’t wait to call your mom and rub her face in it. Of course you had to pay it off so you were still going to work at the store, but that was just a detail to help you get where you want to go. “Hey, what’s got you so smiley?” Chandler asked when he looked up to greet you, but he couldn’t help wonder what was going on. He could never remember a time where you’d looked so happy.

“Yeah, it almost looks like it’s about to hurt.” Phoebe smiled with her joke from her spot on the couch.

“It does, but I just can’t stop smiling.” You beamed.

“Then tell us,” Joey begged, “we’re dying to know over here.” Joey stood up from his spot to put his hand on your lower back.

“I officially signed a contract to start school next year.” You smiled even brighter. You felt the air be squeezed out of you when Joey and Chandler wrapped you in a big hug.

“Oh my god!” Joey celebrated.

“That’s amazing!” Chandler chimed in.

“Oh, congratulations, Y/N/N,” Phoebe smiled proudly at you as she put a friendly hand on your arm.

“Thanks, Pheebs,” you smiled at her as you adjusted your clothes after Chandler and Joey let go, and of course after Joey kissed you in congratulations. Just then you heard the door open and heard the sound of Ross and Monica’s voices, but they stopped when they saw everyone huddled around you.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Ross asked for himself and Monica, they both looked directly at you.

“I’m officially starting esthetics school next year.” Monica and Ross couldn’t help but smile themselves.

“Oh wow,” Ross said as he wrapped you in a quick hug which you happily reciprocated.

“Yeah, I’m so happy for you, and you’re going to be working at the same time right?” Monica smiled her bright smile at you.

“Yep, I’m going to be pretty busy these next 7 months. But I swear it’s all going to be with it. I'll get to prove my mom wrong and help people and do something I love. But anyway, you guys were saying something when you both walked in.” You waved off your excitement to hear what Monica and Ross had been talking about when they first walked in.

“Oh, yeah,” Ross continued as he took a seat in the arm chair and you and Monica sat next to each other on the couch with Phoebe. “What does the phrase ‘no-date pact’ mean to you?”

“I’m sorry okay? It’s just that Chandler has somebody, Phoebe has somebody, and Joey and Y/N are together. I thought I’d ask Fun Bobby.” Monica explained since it seemed like she herself found a date.

“Fun Bobby. Your ex-boyfriend Fun Bobby?” Chandler asked. Monica nodded.

“You know more than one Fun Bobby?” Joey couldn’t help but ask Chandler.

“I happen to know a Fun Bob.” Chandler explained to his friend next to him, that you couldn’t tell whether it was a joke or not. You nodded your head in the direction behind Joey when you saw Rachel coming up with the drink that he must have ordered before you got there.

“Okay, here we go,” Rachel announced while clearly trying to balance the almost overflowing liquid.

“Oh, oh, oh, there’s no room for milk.” Joey complained with a whine. So Rachel did what she thought was the smartest idea in that situation, she took a sip out of Joey’s mug so that he had room for his milk. But it was a good thing that it was Joey instead of another regular customer, because Joey took it anyway.

“There. Now there is,” she said smiling at her own quick thinking.

“Okay, so on our no date evening five of you have dates.” Ross couldn’t believe what was happening.

“Oh, six,” Rachel announced for everyone while she took a seat. Ross hid his face in his hands for a second to hide the anger that he wasn’t hiding very well. “Sorry. Paolo’s catching an earlier flight.” Rachel defended.

“Plus, I mean, it is kind of hard to have a ‘no-date pact’ when two of us are already going out.” Joey mentioned that fact that you kept thinking about. Even though you felt bad about Ross not having a date, it wasn’t like you should have to stop acting like a couple. Which was what it felt like he was expecting, but you knew he was having a really hard time this year so you just decided to keep your thoughts to yourself. “Also I picked up this really hot chick at the mall. What's an elf to do?” Joey winked over at you, but you sent him a warm bright smile and he couldn’t help copy it, causing you to bite onto your lower lip. But of course he would try to make it into some kind of sexual thing with that elf costume; that he definitely gave back instead of keeping for the both of you. Ross had to shake off what had just happened between the two of you.

“Okay, so I’m going the only one standing there alone when the ball drops?” He asked all of you.

“Oh, come on. We’ll have a big party and no one will know who’s with who.” Rachel told him trying to make him feel better, but clearly didn’t help based on the way that he roughly adjusted in his seat.

“Okay, this is so not what I needed right now,” Ross whined. Looking like he was about to cry.

“What’s that matter?” Monica seemingly becoming concerned about how upset her brother was.

“Oh, it’s Marcel.” All of you made eye contact when the relationship problems with the monkey came up. “He keeps shutting me out, you know? He’s walking around all the time, dragging his hands.” As annoying as the monkey stories were getting, you still didn’t like how upset Ross got about it.

“That is so weird, I had such a blast with him the other night.” Chandler let him know as you got up to get a cup of coffee and Chandler took your seat. “Yeah. We played, we watched TV. That juggling thing is amazing.” Chandler finished as you walked back over with your hot drink, and Joey guided you onto his lap as your place to sit.

“What, uh...what juggling thing?” Ross asked completely clueless.

“With the balled up socks. I figured you taught him that.” Chandler explained, but clearly Ross had no clue what he was talking about.

“No.” Ross flat out said looking more hurt.

“You know it wasn’t that big of a deal.” Chandler leaned forward as he brushed the whole conversation off. “It was just balled up socks and a melon.” Your eyebrows shot up at that weird detail.

“Phoebe, hi,” one of the scientist men walked into the shop with such a big smile. So you couldn’t help but wonder what he wanted from your friend as she greeted him. When she tried to be polite and introduce everyone with her, he clearly had a message that couldn’t wait.

“No. Have you seen David?” Max asked her.

“No, he hasn’t been around.” Phoebe answered to him.

“Well, if you see him, tell him to pack his bags. We are going to Minsk.” What the heck was in Minsk that was so exciting? Snow? You couldn’t help but wonder.

“Minsk?” She repeated in utter shock.

“Minsk. It’s in Russia.” David’s friend spelled out to her like he was teaching her something new.

“I know where Minsk is.” Phoebe chuckled while you were sure she imagined ripping his head off for the unnecessary man-splaining.

“We got the grant. Three years. All expenses paid.” He told all of you, so excited for this new career opportunity.

“So when, when do you leave?” Phoebe couldn’t help herself but ask.

“January first.” He smiled proudly, but the look on Phoebe’s face said that her heart was broken.

**********

Last night you had decided to sleep with Joey in his bed, much to Chandler’s dismay, but he was a big boy he’d get over it. You didn’t want to open your eyes because then you’d have to leave the warm covers over your body. But when you remembered that today was New Years Eve, you opened your eyes. You had nothing to do all day except go to Monica and Rachel’s party, plus the store was closed so no work. When you pressed the covers to your bare chest and turned your head, you saw that Joey was still in his own dream land. You could tell he was dreaming because his eyelashes were flinching a little bit. “Joey,” you whispered. Reaching out your hand to grab one of his that was resting on his stomach, however that turned to be a mistake when he pulled on your arm and tugged you into his chest like you were a teddy bear. “Hmmm, okay five more minutes.” You smiled as you got yourself to fall asleep again in Joey’s warmth. But who knew that the both of you would end up sleeping in bed all day until the party. You were about to be a busy bee, and you wanted to soak up all of the Joey time that you could get.

***********

It was finally party time! You were dressed to the nines with your guy with you after spending all day in bed, and now you got to have some of Monica’s amazing food. You did not know how anything could top this. Joey and you were over by the fridge talking to a small group of people, while he was mingling you were doing everything in your power to hide from Janice. Because for whatever reason she seemed to be obsessed with your brother, and if she knew that Chandler had a sister the both of you would never hear the end of it from her. “You okay?” Joey leaned down to quickly whisper in your ear. You nodded.

“I want a drink and some food, but I don’t want to meet her. I don’t want to meet Janice. She’s loud, scared me, and she’s obsessed with my brother. Maybe I’ll just starve for the rest of the night.” You said out loud, but it honestly wasn’t sounding like too bad of an idea.

“Ah, come on, just go get something.” Joey told you. Because you were just being ridiculous. You nodded, agreeing with him that you just had to do it, and whatever happened, happened. But when you excused yourself from the group you were talking to, Joey made sure to grab your arm lightly. “But if you need saving, just send a wink.”

“A wink?” You rose your eyebrow at him.

“Yeah, our signal for me to come rescue you.” Joey couldn’t help but smile at how genius he was.

“Good idea.” You smiled and nodded in agreement. So now that that was settled, Joey let you go and you made your way over to Rachel’s artichoke dip.

“I love this artichoke thing. Don’t tell me what’s in it. The diet starts tomorrow.” You heard this Janice tell Monica as she sipped her champagne and leaned herself against Chandler. Right when you stopped next to Chandler you heard the laugh you had heard so much about; you were all for being nice and killing them with kindness. But that laugh just sounded like a dolphin was choking on something.

“You remember Janice.” Chandler smiled like he was in pain as he reintroduced his ex-girlfriend to Monica.

“Oh...vividly.” Monica smiled at Janice. You couldn’t help but scoff as you took a bite of the artichoke dip, but unfortunately for you you were a little too loud.

“Oh, but I don’t think you’ve met.” Chandler turned to look at you and you could just see the evil in his eyes and his smirk growing. You immediately froze, you had no escape and couldn’t make eye contact with Joey. “Janice, this my baby sister, whom I love so dearly, Y/N. And Y/N this is Janice.” When Janice stepped forward you saw him silently laughing at you.

“Oh, you didn’t tell me you had a sister.” Janice exclaimed loudly. “It’s so great to meet you!” You were going for a handshake, but what you got was a hug. While you limply patted her back you looked over to Monica, begging her to save you.

“Oh, hey, Y/N. I think I heard Joey calling for you. You should probably go.” Monica smiled at Chandler while he frowned when Monica helped you

“Oh, and you’re dating Joey, too!? You have all the luck.”She started laughing again.

“Yeah sorry, I’ll just get back to him. It was-was nice meeting you Janice.” You smiled politely at her before you quickly walked back over to Joey, who immediately wrapped his arm around your waist. “She’s...nice.” You told him, not really knowing what else to say. Joey couldn’t help but just shake his head and smile at you.

“You are too nice.” He chuckled as he pecked you on the forehead.

“Watch it, Tribbiani,” you tried to sound threatening as you hip bumped him slightly. You weren’t sure what was happening, but when you looked up, Rachel was back from the airport. She clearly didn’t have Paolo with her. Her hair was all messed up, her coat was all dirty, and she had a split lip.

“Oh, my gosh!” Monica gasped in horror as she ran to Rachel by the door. “Rachel, honey are you okay?” Obviously she was not okay. “Where’s Paolo?”

“Rome, “ she growled the answer as to where Paolo was. “Jerk missed his flight.” She finished explaining as she limped over to the chair that someone pulled out for her.

“And then your face exploded?” Phoebe asked as she looked down at Rachel with concern.

“No.” She told her as she officially. “Okay. I was at the airport getting into a cab, when this woman-this blonde planet with a pocketbook-starts yelling at me.” Rachel started her story. “Something about how it was her cab first and then the next thing I know, she just starts pulling me out by my hair. And so I’m blowing on my attack whistle thingy and then three more cabs show up. So as I’m going to get into a cab, she tackles me! I hit my head on the curb and I cut my lip on my whistle.” Rachel’s story made you want to go find that blonde planet and give her a peace of your mind, but clearly that’s not what Rachel wanted or needed when she stopped crying and realized that everyone was there and dressed for the party. “Oh...everybody having fun at the party?” We all slowly nodded our heads for her. “Are people eating my dip?” She leaned over to ask Monica but she was still loud enough for all of us to hear. So, Monica just slowly nodded at her.

#friends rewrite #friends #Joey Tribbiani #joey tribbiani x reader #sister!bing #bing!reader #chandler bing #ross geller #phoebe buffay #rachel green #monica geller

73 notes · View notes

fishyspots · 4 years ago

Note

awww i think 7 would be v cute for david and patrick

7. late nights

Patrick winced at the creaking sound his apartment door made as it opened. He really had to see about getting that fixed. Later. At the moment, it was already late—later than he told David he’d be back from top-secret dance rehearsal—and his legs were screaming at him. If he didn’t die of embarrassment wearing his emcee costume in front of Stevie for dress rehearsals next week, then the choreography would surely do him in.

The light was still on, which was a good sign. Patrick hadn’t been sure David would wait up for him. David stopped responding to his texts a few hours earlier; he didn’t even know if David was still at his apartment. But the alternative was the motel, so Patrick felt pretty good about his chances.

There was a lump under the covers. David was here, at least, even if he was asleep. Despite himself, Patrick felt his shoulders slump. He was excited about the show. It had been years since the last time he’d acted, and he loved the source material. And he and Stevie had almost perfected their Mrs. Rose drinking game. But he hadn’t had dinner with David, or watched a movie with David, or curled up on the couch with David, in over a week.

“David?” He didn’t bother whispering. Out of either self-preservation or deeply rooted stubbornness, David was a deep sleeper. When Patrick had first moved into the apartment, he amused himself testing the limits of his boyfriend’s sleep. Once, he’d run the garbage disposal for nearly two minutes, and David didn’t even move.

Patrick dropped his bag on the floor. It thudded hard against the floor. He kicked it to the side, knowing that half-awake David had tripped over less on his way to the bathroom in the light of early morning.

He left the light on—just for a minute, just until he got ready to join David in bed—and made his way over to David. Even his boyfriend’s head was under the covers. Patrick pulled the blankets down, just a little. Just enough to see David’s face. He missed it. David’s features were slack with sleep, and Patrick loved the curve of his mouth and the shadows his lashes cast on his cheeks. Patrick tugged a bit more, then frowned. David was still wearing the same sweater he’d put on that morning. His phone, too, was resting facedown on the pillow next to him instead of plugged into his charger on the kitchen counter.

He sat—didn’t jump, definitely didn’t use any more force than usual—on the bed next to David. He checked, and David was still asleep. He ran his fingers through David’s hair, which was soft and curling just a little against the pillow. Then he tugged a little.

David sniffed and rolled to face him. His eyes blinked open. Finally.

“Hey,” Patrick said softly. “Did I wake you?”

David hummed and squinted up at him. “Time?”

Patrick winced. “One. We got done pretty late, and then Stevie wanted to run lines super quickly.”

“How many new rules for the drinking game?” David asked. He sat up and arranged the pillows behind him into a better position.

“None, we really did run lines.”

David kept looking at him.

“Two,” Patrick conceded. He leaned against the headboard next to David. “But they’re really good ones. One’s about how often your mom asks me to thrust, if that means anything to you.”

“You should know by now that you thrusting always means something to me.”

“Point.” Patrick laughed. “When did you decide to give up and just go to bed?”

David’s nose scrunched up. He looked up at the ceiling, avoiding Patrick’s gaze.

Patrick could feel the smile spreading across his face.

“Because you didn’t fall asleep while you were trying to wait up for me.”

“Nope,” David said quickly. “Definitely did not. Chose to go to bed. Mm hm.”

“And you just forgot to plug in your phone coincidentally.”

“Absolutely. I was reading on it. Happens sometimes.”

Patrick had never seen it happen.

“And sleeping in your sweater?” He asked innocently. “That was a choice, too?”

“Fuck, that’s going to be wrinkled,” David said, eyes darting to his sweater.

Patrick nudged David’s shoulder with his own. “You were trying to wait up for me.” He tried to keep the gloating out of his voice. He failed.

“It’s not my fault that we’ve barely seen each other this week!” David said, throwing his hands up. He paused. “Not that I think it’s your fault, either. I’m excited to see the show.”

He grimaced. “I’m excited to see your thrusting and Stevie’s singing in the show,” he amended.

“I get it.”

David huffed. “This is so dumb. I even made tea to stay awake! I couldn’t finish it, though. Gross. You have gross tea here.”

Patrick craned his neck to look and felt something catch in his throat at the sight of a half-full mug sitting on the floor next to David’s side of the bed.

He pressed his lips against David’s cheek and blinked back tears. Overtired. He was overtired and overemotional and he loved his boyfriend so much.

“Well, I’m sorry I was so late that you fell asleep,” he said. “Let me change, and we can go to sleep.”

“No, take your time.” David got out of bed, picked up his mug, and went into the kitchen. “I’m going to make coffee for me and gross tea for you. I feel like I haven’t talked to you in days.”

The lump in Patrick’s throat was back. He should really get some sleep—if he got sick, Mrs. Rose might actually kill him.

“If that’s, um. Okay.” David’s voice was a little quieter now. “Sorry, it’s super late, you’ve been busy all night—"

“Honey in the tea, please.”

David nodded and smiled a little, in that infuriating way he did when he thought he could successfully hide it.

“Honey,” he confirmed. “Then you can tell me more about this thrusting.”

#my fic #schitt's creek fic #schitts creek fic #david rose #patrick brewer #soft prompt fills #once again I present you with a fill that has no right to be as long as it is

29 notes · View notes

365days365movies · 4 years ago

Text

Action January: Summary

So...looks like this month has changed certain opinions of mine, huh?

Obviously, I still love Mad Max Fury Road...but this month has been a surprise, that’s for sure.

So, what’s the takeaway? Well, I’ve gone through all of these action movies: why not given them some awards, huh? I’ve figured out some categories, so let’s throw them out tout suite.

And the Awards go to...

Best Music: Top Gun (1986)

YOU GET ONE, TOP GUN. You. Get. ONE. Look, a lot of the music I listened to this month is iconic, memorable, and soundtrack worthy...but none of is is quite as memorable and iconic as Top Gun. I mean...Come on. It’s Top Gun. On top of Harold Faltermeyer’s surprisingly memorable score, there’s also “You’ve Lost Loving Feeling”, “Playing with the Boys”, the Academy Award-winning “Take My Breath Away”, and...OF COURSE...”Danger Zone.” Come on. It’s the most iconic song amongst these movies BAR NONE. Other nominees were Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, The Nice Guys, Atomic Blonde, Kung Fu Hustle, First Blood, The Poseidon Adventure, and Mad Mad 2.

Best Visual Effects: Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon (2000)

If I was including Mad Max Fury Road in these awards, that’d be the winner her. But, otherwise, it’s gotta be Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon. I mean...come on. This is a beautiful movie with amazing action sequences nd dazzling stunts and visual artistry that still holds up today. Gotta be this one here. Other nominees were House of Flying Daggers, The Poseidon Adventure, Kingsman: The Secret Service, Speed Racer, Mission: Impossible, Kung Fu Hustle, and The Expendables.

Best Visual Editing: Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon (2000)

...Yeah, see the above. Sorry, this one’s the undisputed champion visually. Not gonna be the last time, either. Other nominees were House of Flying Daggers, The Poseidon Adventure, Kingsman: The Secret Service, Speed Racer, Mission: Impossible, The Fast and the Furious, and Top Gun.

Best Sound Editing: The Poseidon Adventure (1972)

Here’s another one that Fury Road would’ve probably won, were I to include it in this awards show. But instead, this one is going to, weirdly enough, The Poseidon Adventure. Sound editing is pretty tough to judge, but for everything that happened in this film, the sound was weirdly impactful anhd perfect throughout. Despite the diverse and enclosed environment, it was all very consistent and effective. So, yeah, weirdly enough, I’m giving to these guys. Other nominees were Top Gun, Cliffhanger, The Fugitive, The Mask of Zorro, Kingsman: The Secret Service, The Fast and the Furious, Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome.

Best Production Design: Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome (1985)

THIRTY-ONE FILMS ENTER! ONE FILM LEAVES! No brainer here; this movie looks fantastic, and manages to surpass even Mad Max 2. And yeah, there were a LOT of potentials for this one, but this film definitely beat the others out. Other nominees were Atomic Blonde, the other 2 Mad Max films, Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, The Poseidon Adventure, Casino Royale, and The Nice Guys.

Best Costume Design: House of Flying Daggers (2004)

Speed Racer almost had this one, guys. Kingsman, Casino Royale, Atomic Blonde, the Mad Max films ESPECIALLY...they almost had it. But GODDAMN do I love the costumes in this movie! Not gonna get any others here, but honestly...yeah, I’m giving it to the elegant and well-crafted Zhang Yimou film here. Might be blasphemy, but I love these outfits.

Best Cinematography: Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon (2000)

The only choice. I literally don’t even have other nominees here, because this was always going to be won by Dragon.

Best Director: Ang Lee, Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon (2000)

Yeah, see the above here. Only choice. Hell of ALL of the movies I watched this month, this is the only one to be NOMINATED for an Academy Award. We’ve also got to acknowledge The Wachowskis, George Miller, Zhang Yimou, Nicolas Winding Refn, Shane Black, Matthew Vaughn, and David Leitch.

Best Screenplay: Shane Black, The Nice Guys

I GODDAMN LOVE THE WRITING IN THIS MOVIE. No contest, and no movie managed to surpass the pure unadulterated joy I got from this film. Full stop.

Best Supporting Actress: Michelle Yeoh, Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon (2000)

The pickings here are...surprisingly slim. The list consists of Michelle Yeoh (Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon), Shelley Winters (The Poseidon Adventure), Sofia Boutella (Atomic Blonde), Helen Buday (Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome), Helen Mirren (R.E.D.), Christina Ricci (Speed Racer), Famke Janssen (GoldenEye), Meg Ryan (Top Gun). And of those, Yeoh wins hands down. Although, one could argue why she’s here a support, and not Best Actress. Well, Zhang Ziyi, I think, deserved that role more. So, did she get it? We’ll see.

Best Supporting Actor: Tommy Lee Jones, The Fugitive (1993)

Typical for these movies, this category had WAY more options. And yet...there was only one. Tommy. TOMMY. OH! YES! YEEEEEEEE-

Best Actress: Zhang Ziyi, Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon (2000)

...Charlize, you almost had it. But no. No, it was always Zhang Ziyi here. SHe’s an understated amazing in this movie, and I’m going to give her the recognition. Zhang Ziyi, you rocked.

Best Actor: Ryan Gosling, Drive (2011)

In a category full of male actors, and good ones at that, the standout here is Ryan Gosling in Drive. And honestly, Sylvester Stallone was REAL close, as was Jean Reno, Daniel Craig, Russel Crowe, Chow Yun Fat, Gene Hackman, and even Mel Gibson. But no...it’s Gosling for the win.

Worst Film: The Expendables (2010)

The Expendables (2010). My disappointment is immeasurable. And my day is ruined. This film should have been amazing, but it was just a disappointment.

Best Film: Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon (200)

I mean..is this a surprise, really? This movie is all around fantastic, and it makes me sad that it wasn’t recognized at the Oscars in real life.

...Favorite Movie: Mad Max Fury Road (2015) I’M SORRY

I AM SORRY I STILL LOVE THIS MOVIE.

I can accept that there were a lot of movies that I liked more than this film, but it’s STILL MY FAVORITE! So, yeah, the more things change...

But the fact still is, that there were SO MANY things that I love about the movies this month, that I’m glad I did it. Which is why I’m...trepidacious about that’s to come. See, if January was Action, and it’s the last day of January...then it’s time for a new genre And there’s only one that I can do. And I’m...not looking forward to it.

February 2021: Romance February

#365 movie challenge #365 movies 365 days #365 Days 365 Movies #365 movies a year #user365 #movie challenge #movie essay #action january

3 notes · View notes

stainedglassgardens · 4 years ago

Photo

Watched in May

A Russian Youth (Мальчик русский) Sicario Fedora LoveTrue The Platform Water Lilies (Naissance des pieuvres) The Assistant The Half of It Tomboy The Last Man on Earth Beanpole (Дылда) Mommy The Fall Girlhood (Bande de filles) Carnival of Souls Marguerite & Julien Portrait of a Lady on Fire (Portrait de la jeune fille en feu) This Magnificent Cake! (Ce Magnifique Gâteau!) Romantic Comedy Transnistra Eraserhhead The Farewell Emma. Late Night Charlie's Angels Birds of Prey (and the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn) The Ancestors Came Suicide by Sunlight Anthropocene: The Human Epoch A Perfect 14 Westwood: Punk, Icon, Activist Free Radicals Aniara Vivarium La Pointe-Courte Diary of a Pregnant Woman (L'Opéra-Mouffe) Salut les Cubains Uncle Yanco (Oncle Yanco) GUO4 Atlantiques Sitara: Let Girls Dream Lions Love (Lions Love... And Lies) Živan Makes a Punk Festival (Živan pravi pank festival) Plastic and Glass The So-Called Caryatids (Les Dites Cariatides) The Octopus (La Pieuvre) Hyas and Stenorhynchus (Hyas et sténorinques, crustacés marins) Sea Urchins (Les Oursins) Bernard-L'Hermite (Bernard-l'Ermite) The Sea Horse (L'Hippocampe ou "cheval marin") Voyage to the Sky (Voyage dans le ciel) Le Vampire Freshwater Assassins (Assassins d'eau douce) How Some Jellyfish Are Born (Comment naissent des méduses) Shrimp Stories (Histoires de crevettes) The Love Life of the Octopus (Les Amours de la pieuvre) Acera, or The Witches' Dance (Acera, ou le Bal des Sorcières) Pigeons of the Square (Les Pigeons du square) The Slumber Party Massacre Jane B. par Agnès V. The Cranes Are Flying (Летят журавли) Crystal Swan (Хрусталь) Take Me Somewhere Nice Microhabitat ( 소공녀) The Unforeseen

Did not finish

Swiss Army Man (Daniel Kwan and Daniel Scheinert, 2016) Braid (Mitzi Peirone, 2018) A Secret Love (Chris Bolan, 2020) Calder's 1927 Great Circus (Le Grand Cirque Calder 1927, Jean Painlevé, 1955)

Did not like

Sicario (Denis Villeneuve, 2015) The Platform (Galder Gaztelu-Urrutia, 2019) The Half of It (Alice Wu, 2020) Sitara: Let Girls Dream (Sharmeen Obaid-Chinoy, 2019)

I could take them or leave them

Fedora (Billy Wilder, 1978) LoveTrue (Alma Har'el, 2016) This Magnificent Cake! (Ce Magnifique Gâteau!, Emma De Swaef & Marc James Roels, 2018) Romantic Comedy (Elizabeth Sankey, 2019) Eraserhhead (David Lynch, 1977) Late Night (Nisha Ganatra, 2019) Charlie's Angels (Elizabeth Banks, 2019) Free Radicals (Len Lye, 1958) Aniara (Pella Kågerman and Hugo Lilja, 2018) Birds of Prey (and the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn) (Cathy Yan, 2020) The Ancestors Came (Cecile Emeke, 2017) GUO4 (Peter Strickland, 2019) Živan Makes a Punk Festival (Živan pravi pank festival, Ognjen Glavonić, 2014) The Unforeseen (Laura Dunn, 2007)

Films I enjoyed

A Russian Youth (Мальчик русский, Alexander Zolotukhin, 2019): Went into this with the single aim of improving my Russian. Loved the back-and-forth between “the story” and the orchestra playing the score to said story. The “story” itself is also tragically moving

Water Lilies (Naissance des pieuvres), Tomboy, Girlhood (Bande de filles) and Portrait of a Lady on Fire (Portrait de la jeune fille en feu) (Céline Sciamma, 2007, 2011, 2014, 2019): I saw all four of Céline Sciamma’s films practically in a row! I liked all of them, don’t think I prefer one over another. And I recognise she’s a talented filmmaker, even though she’ll probably never be a favourite

The Last Man on Earth (Ubaldo Ragona and Sidney Salkow, 1964): A good... vampire-zombie film... that is worth sticking with even though you might find it too ordinary at first

Beanpole (Дылда, Kantemir Balagov, 2019): This story is fucked up! I liked it up to a certain extent, but I suspect it was mainly because of the historical and geographical setting. If you like post-WW2 Russia and this is the film for you

Mommy (Xavier Dolan, 2014): The portrayal of the titular mother hit a bit too close to home... This was my first Xavier Dolan film and I was not disappointed. Only drawback: Céline Dion’s song “On ne change pas” has been stuck in my head ever since

The Fall (Jonathan Glazer, 2020): It was... good? From the publicity it received on Mubi, I thought this was going to be a feature film, so yeah, I was disappointed, I loved Sexy Beast and Under the Skin so much

The Farewell (Lulu Wang, 2019): I really liked it, I think this didn’t get nearly enough praise -- but I was expecting something life-changing when I “only” found this very good

Emma. (Autumn de Wilde, 2020): This adaptation felt like Autumn de Wilde really, really wanted her film to be shown in as many classrooms as possible. It was enjoyable! I liked her additions to the book, and I appreciate the challenge she took up

Suicide by Sunlight (Nikyatu Jusu, 2019): A good short vampire film about Black vampires who are protected from daylight by their melanin

Anthropocene: The Human Epoch (Edward Burtynsky, Jennifer Baichwal, Nicholas de Pencier, 2018): Stunning visuals, sobering message. Somewhere between Koyaanisqatsi and Unser Täglich Brot in tone

A Perfect 14 (Giovanna Morales Vargas, 2018): This, by necessity, doesn’t cover everything on the subject of plus-size models, and practically speaking I didn’t learn anything -- but it’s well-made, and the personal stories of the main interviewees make a good, contrasted portrait

Westwood: Punk, Icon, Activist (Lorna Tucker, 2018): I came out of this feeling as if Vivienne Westwood wasn’t that interesting of a person, which I’m sure wasn’t the director’s intention... still, it was informative enough

Plastic and Glass (Tessa Joosse, 2009): A short somewhat-documentary about a choir in a recycling facility. Good music

The Slumber Party Massacre (Amy Holden Jones, 1982): Finally saw this! Very surprised to learn this was written by Rita Mae Brown. It was good as far as slashers go and of course, it is nice to watch something from that era that is not appallingly sexist

The Cranes Are Flying (Летят журавли, Mikhail Kalatozov, 1957): I guess I had to read about this afterwards in order to see how unusual it was for the time it was made. While I watched it I enjoyed the way it was filmed but the story left me indifferent, and I thought it lacked subtlety

Crystal Swan (Хрусталь, Darya Zhuk, 2018): A very aesthetically pleasing story set in 1990s Belarus, about a young woman who wants to emigrate to Chicago for the love of house music... the story will keep taking you unexpected places from there. The costumes are perfect, the soundtrack is interesting. It does feel a little as if it were made for export, and I thought it relied quite heavily on stereotypes about Slavs

Take Me Somewhere Nice (Ena Sendijarević, 2019): This coming-of-age road movie about a Bosnian girl who was raised in the Netherlands and comes back to visit her father in hospital has everything... drugs, violence, death, even cute dogs. The pastel palette makes it very satisfying

Microhabitat ( 소공녀, Jeon Go-woon, 2017): This film about a woman with a minimum-wage job who would rather leave her flat than quit smoking and drinking whisky just spoke to me

La Pointe-Courte, Diary of a Pregnant Woman (L'Opéra-Mouffe), Salut les Cubains, Uncle Yanco (Oncle Yanco), Lions Love (Lions Love... And Lies), The So-Called Caryatids (Les Dites Cariatides), Jane B. par Agnès V. (Agnès Varda, 1955, 1958, 1964, 1967, 1969, 1984, 1988): I decided to watch all of Agnès Varda’s films that are on Mubi France and that I haven’t seen already, in chronological order. This feels a bit like a chore sometimes, but I find it rewarding. It’s strange to think that even a few years ago hers was a name I’d heard a few times but that didn’t mean anything to me. And I know I can be merciless when it comes to French cinema. Anyway... I like what I’ve seen so far (the above plus Cléo and Vagabond), I like that someone can just pick up her film camera and make a short about caryatids... generally speaking I like Varda’s approach to film that makes it seem more accessible to people like me. I don’t think all of her films are particularly good, but I like that she made all of them. I never did particularly like Cléo, and I didn’t particularly like La Pointe-Courte in spite of the fact that it was shot very close to where I’m from. Of the above, my fave was probably Lions Love, even though (or because?) it doesn’t very much feel like a Varda film. Uncle Yanco is a close second. I’ve got three feature films left now

Films I loved

The Assistant (Kitty Green, 2019): Unfortunately enough, this reminded me of an internship I did a few years ago... I found it uncomfortably realistic, and thus very good. Julia Garner is perfect, as usual

Carnival of Souls (Herk Harvey, 1962): I watched this because it is a classic, expecting it to be over-the-top and not nearly as scary as I found it... a very good surprise

Marguerite & Julien (Valérie Donzelli, 2015): It’s hard to talk about this in a way that will make people want to see it without making me sound like a huge weirdo but here goes. It’s a story about a brother and sister who are madly in love with each other. It takes place in a fantasy past and is told like a fairytale. If you think it’s impossible to turn this premise into a good film please watch this

Transnistra (Anna Eborn, 2019): With this film I discovered the existence of the tiny unrecognised state named Transnistria... I also discovered Alla Pugacheva, who is part of a great nostalgic Russian soundtrack with Kino amongst others. The story is one of those documentaries about youth that punches you right in the gut. Definitely recommended

Vivarium (Lorcan Finnegan, 2019): This is the type of what, for lack of a better term, I call “minimal science fiction” that I really enjoy. I’ve thought about it a lot since then. I don’t know why people generally didn’t seem to like it. I thought the premise was terrifying and nightmarish, and the actual film effectively claustrophobic. Plu:s Imogen Poots

Atlantiques (Mati Diop, 2009): This is the short, not the feature film of the same name. I’ve heard a lot about Mati Diop and I saw this the second it became available on Mubi France -- and I didn’t regret it. Can’t wait to see Atlantiques, long form

The Octopus (La Pieuvre), Hyas and Stenorhynchus (Hyas et sténorinques, crustacés marins), Sea Urchins (Les Oursins), Bernard-L'Hermite (Bernard-l'Ermite), The Sea Horse (L'Hippocampe ou "cheval marin"), Voyage to the Sky (Voyage dans le ciel), Le Vampire, Freshwater Assassins (Assassins d'eau douce), How Some Jellyfish Are Born (Comment naissent des méduses), Shrimp Stories (Histoires de crevettes), The Love Life of the Octopus (Les Amours de la pieuvre), Acera, or The Witches' Dance (Acera, ou le Bal des Sorcières), Pigeons of the Square (Les Pigeons du square) (Jean Painlevé, 1928, 1929, 1929, 1930, 1934, 1937, 1945, 1947; Jean Painlevé and Geneviève Hamon, 1960, 1964, 1965, 1972; Jean Painlevé, 1982): I didn’t know who Jean Painlevé was before I decided to watch The Octopus. As it turns out, I am a sucker for well-made nature documentaries, and since all of these are short films, I ended up watching them all, in order of release, over the course of one afternoon. It’s a little bit crazy that these were getting made as early as the 1920s, and I can’t imagine what it would have been like to see them in theatres nearly a hundred years ago. Anyway these are all good, although I wasn’t expecting the vivisection that seems to have been par for the course in the early days

Yes, I really did watch 65 films in May. It becomes a little less impressive considering a fair amount of those were shorts, but still. Unemployment!

I have access to Outbuster now in addition to Mubi and Netflix, this time through my boyfriend’s account. It’s a French thing I think, and very cheap, but I’ve only just tried it with Microhabitat. Of course it was the Mubi Library thing that just completely sent me over the edge, and I want to watch all the things.

In June I hope to finish Agnès Varda’s filmography on Mubi and maybe watch some more Tarkovsky!

#watched in 2020 #films

28 notes · View notes

mygreatadventurehasbegun · 4 years ago

Note

for the classic film asks: vivien leigh, betty grable, sylvia sidney, ingrid bergman, veronica lake, hedy lamarr, rita hayworth, robert taylor

Vivien Leigh: what’s your favorite romantic moment?

Duh. :)

I was actually just thinking about this scene this morning. And me realizing that this scene is the first (and only) time he calls her “Marian”. Every other time he speaks to her, he calls her Milady...and when he says her name I absolutely melt.

Betty Grable: top five favorite actresses?

Since these are strictly classic movie asks, I’ll stick to actresses from OH.

~Olivia de Havilland (of course)

~Ingrid Bergman

~Audrey Hepburn

~Judy Garland

~Bette Davis

Sylvia Sidney: character’s wardrobe you’d want to raid?

I mean, of course Lady Marian’s:

But also Lisa Freemont, Alicia Huberman, Rose and Esther Smith (from Meet me in St. Louis), Christine Dubois, and Jo Stockton’s!

Ingrid Bergman: favorite piece of gossip?

Oooooh!!! This isn’t really gossip, more like trivia...but I love the fact that when they built the door for The Shining, Jack Nicholson tore it apart too quickly because he had worked as a fire fighter before he became famous..so they had to build him a stronger door!

Otherwise, I do enjoy the story about how during the filming of the romantic scene in The Adventures of Robin Hood, Olivia de Havilland purposely messed up several times (I believe because Flynn wouldn’t stop flirting or something), and so they had to do the kissing scene over and over until he, as she said: “had a little bit of trouble with his tights”.

Veronica Lake: top five favorite “aesthetic” scenes?

That’s a tough one!!! I decided to pick five movies as a whole, because otherwise I’d be deliberating for hours!

The Innocents: Probably one of the best-looking black and white movies I’ve ever seen. I consider this to be the definition of gothic horror.

Meet Me in St. Louis: I love that each season has a slightly different color palette. The costumes are gorgeous and it’s shot beautifully.

Phantom of the Opera: Another great horror flick! It definitely has a bit of that gothic feel, just with gorgeous colors and textures. The first time I watched this on Blu-Ray, I was blown away by how good it looked compared to both my VHS and DVD (yes, I own all three)

Fiddler on the Roof: Norman Jewison shot this movie through a stocking...and it gives it an incredibly natural feeling where all the colors are just slightly muted (but not in an obvious way).

The Adventures of Robin Hood: I couldn’t not include this one! The scenery, the costumes, the colors....*chef’s kiss*

It’s very clear that I love a particular style: high contrast (especially in B&W movies), and highly saturated colors!

Hedy Lamarr: favorite house from a movie?

Probably the Smith’s home from Meet me in St. Louis!!

Rita Hayworth: favorite small details about old films in general?

I love the care that went into making these movies. Not saying that people don’t pay attention to detail nowadays, but I think when so much of movie “isn’t there” when filming, things just get lost.

And I like the story when during her fitting for Gone With the Wind, Ann Rutherford (who played Scarlett’s sister Careen) noticed that the petticoats had rows of lace. And she said to Walter Plunkett and David Selsnick (thinking she could save him some money) that the petticoats didn’t need all this lace because no one sees them. And she was told: “you’ll know they’re there”.

Robert Taylor: name a character whose job you’d like to have?

Probably either Jo Stockton, going around the world modeling beautiful clothing

Or Jane Falbury, dancing on the stage with Gene Kelly! I mean, I kind of do that now, but I don’t have a Joe Ross.

#the adventures of robin hood #summer stock #olivia de havilland #audrey hepburn #judy garland #fiddler on the roof #funny face #phantom of the opera #the innocents #meet me in st louis

8 notes · View notes

tysonrunningfox · 5 years ago

Text

Ripped: Christmas Special

It’s the Ripped Christmas Special! Where Ripped is during Christmas. It’s...wow they’re them all the time

Ao3

“We could have ordered a tree online, you know,” Snotlout huffs, readjusting his grip around the freshly cut trunk of the seven-foot Fraser fir between them, his breath a puff of steam in the alley air. Someone opens their back door to throw a bag of trash into a dumpster and he jumps.

Hiccup rolls his eyes, “then we wouldn’t have gotten to pick it out.”

“Ok, we could have ordered a plastic tree online, since all of those look the same.” He starts walking, making Hiccup stumble backwards and catch himself on an alley wall, brick scraping against his glove. “Let’s get this home before we get murdered.”

“No murderers here,” Hiccup starts shuffling forward again anyway, “or at least I thought you caught them all, detective.”

“You think you can just mention my promotion and I’ll forget you’re a magnet for horrible, murderous luck?”

“It was worth a shot,” he shrugs, sighing when he hears the music accompanying the streetlamp glow introducing itself to the mouth of the alley. “Great, Christmas Carolers.”

“Lugging a giant tree across downtown is fine, but some cold people singing ‘Jingle Bells’ is too much holiday cheer for you. That makes sense.” Snotlout rolls his eyes, relaxing when he emerges onto the well-lit sidewalk half a block down from their front door. One of the carolers looks surprised to see them and Hiccup gives a half-hearted wave before tucking his chin to his chest to hopefully avoid interaction.

“Do you need some help with that?” A man’s voice infused with the probable self-importance of ‘Chief Caroler’ asks and Hiccup shakes his head.

“Nope, we’re almost home, thanks though.”

“Well, any requests for music while you work?”

“Silent night?” Hiccup snips but the intended insult goes over the man’s head as he conducts his jolly group in the first few offkey notes of the song.

Getting the tree up the stairs ends in casualties of a few lower branches and the rest of Snotlout’s patience when Hiccup accidentally props the tree up on his foot, but it’s worth it when he opens the door and sees Astrid’s face light up. Or maybe her face doesn’t light up, maybe it just reflects some of the hundreds of multicolor lights she’s strung around the apartment since he left for work this morning. Either way, it’s worth half an hour of dealing with cold, murder-paranoid Snotlout.

“Can we please get this fire hazard inside already?” Snotlout barks from behind the tree in the hallway and Hiccup barely catches his end as it tips forwards, shedding a shower of pine needles on the floor.

“You got a tree,” Astrid practically bounces over to help, taking Snotlout’s end from him and steering Hiccup to a patch of bare floor by the front window where a plastic tree stand is already sitting.

“I told you I would,” he nudges the tree stand with his toe, “you said you were getting a tree stand, what did you intend to put in it? A bush?”

“Just a second,” Astrid sets the trunk down before kneeling to adjust the tree stand in some way, “I figured since you were walking, it’d be smaller.”

“Snotlout graciously volunteered to help me carry it,” Hiccup gives his cousin the credit he doesn’t deserve as Astrid places the trunk in the stand, absently directing Hiccup to lean the tree this way and that until she deems it perfect and starts screwing it into place.

“Anything for you mom,” Snotlout grins.

“Don’t.” Hiccup narrows his eyes, “not tonight. Not tomorrow. Not this whole visit, ok? Do not.”

“Don’t what?”

“You know what.” He relaxes only slightly when Eretson appears from Snotlout’s room. Snotlout can’t be too obvious with his boyfriend in the room, right?

Then again, Eretson isn’t wearing his business-like ‘keep his employee-slash-boyfriend under control’ suit or expression. Instead, he’s wearing felt reindeer antlers and a sweater that says ‘Tree-Rex’ under a dinosaur wrapped in little flickering lights.

“There,” Astrid pops up, clapping her hands together and taking a step back to examine the tree.

The fierce light that bloomed in her eyes when he casually mentioned decorating for Christmas in preparation for his mom’s visit only brightens and it’s almost enough that he doesn’t notice her bulky sweater striped with chunky knitted green trees and white reindeer on a fuzzy, well worn red background.

“So Eretson borrowed the getup from you, I see,” he puts his hands on her waist and turns her to face him, earning about as much of her attention as someone distracting Michelangelo from the brick of marble that would become a statue of David.

“Hmm?” She frowns, glancing at Eretson, “no. He just has Christmas spirit, unlike some people.” She looks disparagingly at the plain blue sweater peeking out of his jacket.

“I thought he was going to yell at the carolers outside.” Snotlout greets Eretson with a tip-toed kiss on the cheek and it’s still weird how pleased Eretson manages to look about it.

“Lights, where did I put the lights?” Astrid will not be kept long from her tree and she pats Hiccup’s arm as she steps out of his grip.

“Over here,” Eretson produces another box from a bag on kitchen counter and tosses them to her, “and Hiccup, really, Eret is fine.”

“Right,” Hiccup shakes his head, hanging his jacket up and looking down to make sure that there’s nothing actually wrong with his sweater. Work clothes still feel like a costume more often than not, and while he’s ok with Astrid judging him on lack of Christmas themed patterns, he was hoping to look at least marginally like an adult tonight, “sorry, just habit. I’m not used to being on a first name basis with my lawyer.” His laugh is awkward, hollow, and everyone else rolls their eyes.

“He hasn’t been your lawyer in like eight months, dude,” Snotlout idly takes a price sticker off of the bottom of a golden reindeer that has taken up residence on the coffee table.

“I know,” Hiccup turns back to the tree to hide his blush when he inevitably remembers that Eretson also wasn’t his lawyer last month when he accidentally walked in on him in the shower. Which is good, because that’s definitely breaching some client-lawyer-confidentiality agreement, or something else legal, or something.

So, it’s good their legal involvement was over. For all parties.

“What time’s your mom getting here?” Astrid asks, fussing over making the lights even as they spiral around the tree.

His breath catches briefly as the feeling that this apartment wasn’t ever really home without her hits him again in one of those random, familiar waves that he still can’t make himself get used to. Sometimes she’ll swear over the fire alarm after burning breakfast or he’ll find one of her pristine paperbacks on the coffee table and he’s smacked with overwhelming nostalgia for something he hopes to never, ever have to miss.

“Come here,” he grabs her elbow, itchy wool on his palm only magnifying the feeling of home as he kisses her.

She sighs into it, indulging him with a hand torn briefly away from the tree to rest on his hip as his fingers cup the back of her neck, tangling in soft hair.

“Well, we don’t need this mistletoe then,” Snotlout scoffs and Hiccup registers just enough to flip him off as he pulls away, dropping one last kiss on Astrid’s nose and smiling to himself when it wrinkles.

“Maybe we do,” Eretson puts an arm over Snotlout’s shoulders, “to contain them in one area.”

Astrid glares at the both of them, arms wrapping slowly around Hiccup’s neck as she turns back to him, confusion knitting her brows together, “what were we talking about?”

“I have no idea,” he sets his hands on her waist, “the fact that Christmas carolers in this area are operating on a fraudulent myth that singing songs on the sidewalk has anything to do with the Grimborn investigation during Christmas eighteen-eighty-three?”

“No, that definitely wasn’t it.”

“Because that doesn’t make sense, given that A Christmas Carol was released in eighteen-eighty.”

“Ok, Scrooge.” She rolls her eyes but kisses him again, sweater sleeves rubbing against the side of his neck.

“Was it that itchy wool gives me a rash?” He teases but it doesn’t crack the shell of her recovered concentration.

“No,” she bites her lip and he barely resists the urge to kiss her again, “oh! I forgot to set the yaknog out.”

“Yaknog?” Hiccup and Snotlout ask at the same time and Eretson nods.

“She let me try some earlier, it’s good.”

“It’s to be respected,” she kisses Hiccup on the cheek before letting go and rushing to the fridge to pull out a large glass pitcher filled with cream colored liquid. “But it is delicious.”

“It’s eggnog,” Snotlout says after a first weary sip before taking another and Eretson pats him carefully on the shoulder. “What’s the difference between eggnog and yaknog?”

“The amount of rum I saw disappear into that pitcher,” Eretson says respectfully and Astrid grins, handing Hiccup a glass.

“That’s why Ruffnut named it yaknog,” she explains, “if it is not respected, it will make you yak.”

“It’s good,” Hiccup compliments, even though he can’t say he’s ever been an eggnog fan. Then again, he could be, especially when it makes Astrid smile again, reaching around him to take a package of shiny ornaments off of the counter and hold them up.

“Tree?”

“Sure.” He follows her back across the living room, obediently holding the package open for her to choose the first ornament to anoint the tree.

“The thing that people get wrong about tree decorating is that you have to have a plan,” she instructs, tucking her hair behind her ear and carefully picking a shiny red bauble up by the gold ring at the top of it, like she’s trying not to smudge it.

“You do?” He watches her hang the first ornament as high as she can reach, oversized sweater pulling up barely enough to show the back pockets of her jeans. “What happens if you just hang everything all willy-nilly?” He takes a gold ornament out of the box and hangs it on the other side of the tree at about hip height.

“It ends up unbalanced,” she purses her lips, undoing his decorating attempt and cleaning the smudges off of the ball on her sleeve before putting it back in functionally the same place.

“Wait,” he hands her the box of ornaments, “I’ll be right back.”

“I thought you were going to help,” she complains half-heartedly after him as he disappears into their unusually clean bedroom just long enough to grab the top hat from the bedpost.

“Oh God, the dorky hat,” Snotlout complains, barely distracted from his debate with Eretson on the couch. Hiccup ignores him.

“If you’re going to instruct me in the art of proper Christmas tree decoration,” he sets it on her head and it slips slightly crooked, like it always does, “you need this.”

“Fine,” she hands the box back to him and selects her next ornament, hanging it carefully on the tree.

“What, exactly, would make a Christmas tree unbalanced?” He loves when she takes things too seriously, assigning methods to things he’s always been sure were madness.

“Bare patches,” she shrugs, “uneven distribution of color.”

“Ok, that seems serious,” he jokes, handing her a blue ornament with a grip careful not to smudge and grinning when her warm fingers brush carefully over his, “and what are the consequences of having an unbalanced Christmas tree?”

“Consequences?” She looks up from under the brim of his hat, straightening it when it tips backwards.

“Yeah, what…great harm will befall those dumb enough not to listen to your ancient knowledge of Christmas tree decoration?” He realizes, with a jolt that makes time slow down, what exactly it means that he’s off work until the new year and she’s done with her semester. That’s at least ten days at home with her, ten days around the soon to be perfect tree, ten days with the multicolor lights reflecting in her eyes.

“Bad luck,” she nods solemnly.

“Oof,” he holds the box of ornaments to the side to step closer and whisper, “I should be probably paying attention then, I’ve had enough bad luck this year.”

“Not only bad luck, I hope.”

“Good too,” he assures, kissing her briefly and smiling when she forgets herself enough to press an ornament against his neck as her hand finds his cheek, “lots of good.” He flips Snotlout off again when he groans, then tries to pry the ornament free of Astrid’s grip before she smashes it against his jaw.

“Oh no,” she pulls back all of a sudden, staring from the tree to the counter where bags sit entirely depleted of Christmas decorations.

“What is it?”

“I forgot a star,” she blushes, messing with her hair and almost knocking the hat off of her head, “for the top of the tree.”

“Oh,” he looks around, half wondering if Snotlout would consent to his badge being a shiny tree-topper at least for tonight, before the idea hits him. “If I may…” He plucks the hat off of her head and goes onto lopsided tip toes to set it carefully on the top of the tree. It immediately falls slightly crooked, like it’s on a very rustic hat hook, and he expects Astrid’s too serious lecture about tree balance to start up again, but it doesn’t. “Is that—”

“I love it,” she grins, “you obviously didn’t need tree decorating lessons, you’re a natural.”

“You taught me everything I know,” he puts his hand on his heart to swear it and she rolls her eyes.

“Help me get the rest of these on before—”

A knock at the door cuts her off and she freezes, eyes wide as she tugs at her sweater, shifting half a step back from him. Right. His mom. That’s what she was asking about earlier before she distracted him.

He checks the time right as Snotlout stands up from the couch.

“I’ll get it.”

“No, you won’t,” Hiccup rushes to the door but stumbles, wasting precious time juggling an open box half full of ornaments and ultimately losing the race.

“Good evening, Miss Haddock,” Snotlout greets stepping aside to let Hiccup’s mom through, “may I say that you look particularly lovely this—”

“You may not,” Hiccup cuts him off, setting the box on the arm of the couch and resisting the urge to shove Snotlout out of the way. “Hi Mom.”

“Seeing Spitelout Jorgenson’s son grow up into such a polite young man,” his mom looks at him anxiously for a second and then sets a warm hand on his shoulder, “makes me wonder where I messed up.”

“Hey!” Hiccup laughs anyway and Snotlout holds out an arm.

“Can I take your coat?”

“I’ve got it,” Hiccup steps in, folding his mom’s coat awkwardly over his arm when she hands it to him.

Is he supposed to introduce Astrid now? Or get his mom settled first? Should he have introduced her before he took his mom’s coat? Should he have asked Eretson to take her coat, given that he trusts Eretson not to hit on his mom?

“Oh, Miss Haddock,” Snotlout interrupts Hiccup’s racing thoughts and gestures to Eretson, who looks as composed as any grown man could in a novelty sweater and felt antlers, “I don’t believe you’ve met my boyfriend, Eret.”

“He’s also my lawyer,” Hiccup blurts out, hastily tossing his mom’s coat onto his hat’s old peg on the coat rack. He’s lucky that it doesn’t fall.

He’s never introduced a girlfriend to his mom before, but he is relatively sure he was supposed to do that before introducing his lawyer. Ex-lawyer. Ex-lawyer, occasional victim of accidental shower peeping.

At least he didn’t say that out loud.

“Nice to meet you, Miss Haddock,” Eretson holds his hand out but Hiccup’s mom hugs him instead.

“Valka is fine.” She looks at Snotlout, “for all of you, really.”

“Well, if you insist.” Snotlout laughs how adults do when there’s no real joke, the laugh that Hiccup hasn’t even attempted to master.

“Oh, and Mom?” Hiccup clears his throat, stepping beside Astrid and grabbing her hand in his. He wonders if she can feel him shaking and internally thanks her for not mentioning it. “This is Astrid. My girlfriend. And Astrid, this is my mom. Obviously.”

“Nice to meet you,” Astrid squeezes his hand before letting it go and offering it to Hiccup’s mom. There’s a tense millisecond before she gets a hug too, a little more enthusiastic than Eretson’s, if Hiccup isn’t mistaken, and he breathes a little easier. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

“I wish I could say the same,” Hiccup’s mom laughs, hands on Astrid’s shoulders, “Hiccup has been very tight-lipped about this whole thing—”

“Mom,” he sounds fifteen when he whines, but he can’t seem to hold it back.

“I half thought he’d made you up.”

“Mom.”

“He didn’t even mention how absolutely gorgeous you are.”

“Oh. Thank you,” Astrid blushes, “can I get you anything? Would you like some yaknog?”

“Sure,” his mom agrees, asking ‘what the hell is yaknog’ with her eyes as she looks back at him. “She really is beautiful—”

“I know,” he cuts her off before Astrid can hear again, fumbling for his own glass of yaknog and toasting in his mom’s direction, “and she makes great eggnog. I mean yaknog. It’s eggnog with a way higher rum quotient, I’m told.”

“Merry Christmas,” his mom responds, humming appreciatively when she tries it.

Snotlout offers suspiciously graciously to get his mom’s bag from the stairwell, and she accepts before sitting down at one end of the couch, by Eretson. Snotlout’s seat is assumed, and that leaves the chair, which Hiccup sits in without thinking. Usually, Astrid would just wedge herself in beside him or make herself comfortable on his lap, but of course she can’t do that now, because his mom is here.

“Oh, sorry, you can have the, um, chair—” He starts to stand up, but she stops him, hand on his shoulder as she perches on the arm, resting her glass of yaknog on her knee.

“So,” his mom leans forward slightly, looking around the apartment like she’s wondering how many of the little changes since she lived here are Astrid’s influence. The answer is most of them, and Hiccup suddenly doesn’t know when he got so old that he didn’t have to ask permission for someone to move in with him. He guesses he asked Snotlout without getting permission, but that’s different. That’s a roommate. “Tell me everything.”

Eretson laughs, shooting Snotlout a knowing look when he comes back inside, arm on the back of the couch like an invitation to snuggle up together and watch the carnage. Sometimes, he’s enough of an ass to deserve the ‘lawyer’ title.

“Everything?” Hiccup clears his throat, “what’s everything? I mean, work is going great. I just got a petition with over ten thousand signatures to save the Grand Hotel from being torn down up to the State Legislature. I might even get to go defend it, which would be good because that’s how I got most of the ten thousand signatures, by promising people that if they signed my form, they’d be forcing me to talk in a very public, uncomfortable court, and I guess I was annoying enough that it’s something literal thousands of people wanted to force me to do.”

He laughs. No one else does. Astrid squeezes his shoulder, half-comfort and half-reminder, and his mom’s eagle eyes snag on the motion.

“You told me about your job on the phone,” she reminds him, “I was referring more to the fact that you’re living with a girlfriend you couldn’t find a minute to send me a picture of.”

“Would you have believed him?” Snotlout snorts, polite mask slipping for a second until Astrid glares at him. “About the job. Of course. I’m shocked you believed that Hiccup got a job. I hardly believed it, it’s really just Astrid being a good influence.”

Eretson and Astrid share a look and he puts a hand on Snotlout’s shoulder, urging him quiet.

“I heard you two met at your old apartment building?” Hiccup’s mom directs the question at Astrid and she freezes, eyebrows raising, “was that before or after the ‘little run-in with the law’ that he told me about?”

“Oh,” Astrid nods, “when you say everything, you mean that much everything.” Her fingernails dig into Hiccup’s shoulder and his grin turns plastic.

He didn’t know how to tell his mother that he got a little bit framed for serial murder, but it’s fine now, so he kind of just omitted the first half of the sentence.

“Is that not how you met?” Having his mom catch him in half a lie in front of his girlfriend is somehow worse than having his mom catch him in an absolute lie in any other circumstance. Unpredictably, it’s worse that he’s an adult, a real adult with a job, who just started using beard oil because isn’t the mark of true adulthood the accumulation of small bottles in the bathroom?

“Do you want to tell it, babe?” Astrid asks, an edge in the pet name, and he sighs.

“I’ll take your lead on this one.”

“Well,” she takes a long drink of her yaknog before continuing, “I’m assuming you know that Hiccup used to do Viggo Grimborn tours.”

His mom nods, “I was hoping to catch one on this trip, actually.”

“I don’t actually do them anymore,” Hiccup shrugs, “but I suppose exceptions could be made.”

“Anyway,” Astrid’s heel knocks against his metal shin as she swings her leg, mysteriously nervous rather than actually mad at him for lying by omission, “I happened to move into an apartment that featured on his tour.”

“So, we did meet at your building, technically.”

“Yeah, but I was in the building, and you were in the courtyard yelling about murder and shining a laser pointer into my bathroom,” she corrects him, voice softening throughout the sentence.

“And you don’t react well to being startled,” he fills in, smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, “as evidenced by the fact that you threw your toothbrush at my head.”

“Dropped it,” she insists, and he grabs her hand.

“With deadly aim, sure.”

“And I’m assuming you apologized,” Hiccup’s Mom raises her eyebrow and he nods.

“Of course, I sent her a pizza.”

“It didn’t stop you from coming back three times a night,” Astrid teases.

“That explains the ‘run-in’ with the law,” his mom gives him a stern look, like he’s six and his dad caught him elbow deep in the cookie jar, so he’s actually in trouble, “it does leave me a little foggy as to why a seemingly smart girl like you moved in with someone who stalked her.”

Astrid laughs, a little awkward, grip tightening on Hiccup’s hand like he’s her lifeline for once.

“Technically he only stalked my apartment.” She shrugs, “and he’s pretty persuasive. Especially about being harmless.”

“And lucky for him, you’re a huge nerd too,” Snotlout interjects, earning a blushing glare and an admonishing look from Eretson.

“Yeah, lucky for me,” Hiccup agrees, because it is luck that Astrid wasn’t just an undeniably gorgeous and unmistakably violent woman who threw things at him. He doesn’t know how much of his luck he spent for her to be so much more than that, but it’s worth it.

“That’s quite the story,” his mom finishes her yaknog and Astrid gets up to refill it for her, shooting Hiccup a look that he doesn’t quite understand. Almost checking in, almost worried, but he doesn’t have time to dwell on it because his mom turns to Eretson. “Hiccup said you’re his lawyer, maybe you’re the one to ask about his ‘run-in’ with the law, as he puts it.”

“Well,” Eretson looks almost panicked for a second, before adjusting his antlers and gesturing at Hiccup with the arm not over Snotlout’s shoulders, “given that I’m no longer his lawyer, I’m afraid you’ll have to direct all questions surrounding the dismissed case at my former client.”

Snotlout snickers.

“Is that what you would have said in court?” Hiccup wipes his face, arms itching to pull Astrid into his lap when she sits back down on the arm of the chair, like he could hide behind her where he could pretend he’s not going to have to explain this to his mother. “I’m shocked you didn’t see it on the news, Mom,” he gestures to his face, “it was everywhere, that’s why I ended up growing the beard, I didn’t actually take to fame as well as I thought I would. I’m sure you remember the magic tricks? I used to think I’d love to escape handcuffs on stage, but after I kind of did it, if the twenty-four-seven news racket counts as a stage, I discovered I kind of hated it—”

“I can’t take this anymore,” Snotlout stands up, hands held out like he’s projecting a scene onto a screen between them, “ok, so this really creepy dude infiltrated the police force and framed Hiccup for a bunch of murders—”

“Snotlout!” Astrid tries to stop him, but he waves her off.

“It’s your big meet-Hiccup’s-mom moment, I get you. I’ve got you, she comes out of this story looking…like oh my God, I’m not going to spoil it, just—wait, did you hear I got shot?” He pauses and then reaches for the hem of his shirt.

“Snotlout!” Hiccup snaps, almost knocking Astrid off of the arm of the chair as he jumps halfway to his feet.

“I was just going to show her my scar.”

“She doesn’t want to see your scar,” Hiccup assures him, sitting back down and tugging Astrid with him, his hips notched slightly behind hers so that they can share the chair. She crosses her legs and her ankle slides across his knee, anchoring him for whatever spectacle he’s about to endure.

Eretson has a stupid, bemused expression on his face that Hiccup only recognizes from his own reflection when he happens to be thinking about Astrid, and inviting his mother for Christmas was obviously a mistake.

“I’ll skip to the good part,” Snotlout promises, “Hiccup is in jail, for multiple murders, and Astrid goes to visit him, but of course the bad guy chooses that time to gloat about it, and Astrid—this Astrid, right here, takes her umbrella,” he mimes a wide swing like he’s hitting a home run, “and shatters the creep’s nose. One orbital socket too, I heard from the hospital. I’ve seen the video it’s…”

“Classified,” Eretson interrupts, “that case is still ongoing.”

“It’s awesome,” Snotlout insists, “that’s what it is.”

“It was nothing,” Astrid tries to hold some approximation of a humble expression but then she grins, allowing the compliment, “ok, it was pretty satisfying.”

“Multiple murders,” Hiccup’s mom says slowly, eyebrows raised, and he gives into the urge to hide behind Astrid, chin on her shoulder, arm possessively around her waist as he shoots a glare at Snotlout for revealing that little tidbit of information, “quite the ‘run-in’.”

“That I didn’t, you know, commit.” He mumbles after a too long second, “I was framed.”

It isn’t received as the comforting statement he was going for and he looks up at the lights strung around the window before whispering in Astrid’s ear.

“How do I get the conversation off of murder and back to Christmas?”

“I don’t know,” she flushes, whispering as quietly as possible as the three on the couch engage in halting small talk, “Jonbenet Ramsey?”

Hiccup snorts even though he shouldn’t, burying his nose in her hair to try and hide it. His humor has always skewed dark, and that’s probably why he’s not in a padded room right now, but the last thing he wants to do now is explain how Astrid’s knowledge of true crime beyond Grimborn is not only funny, but also endearing and kind of sexy in a way he can’t contemplate with his mom judging him.

“What was that?” His mom asks and Astrid’s neck warms as her blush travels down it.

“Nothing.” She clears her throat, patting Hiccup’s arm for him to let her up and take all of her warmth and protection with her. “I was about halfway through decorating the tree when you got here, I think I’ll go finish that.”

“Can I help?” His mom offers and while his first instinct is to follow and make sure that everything goes well, Astrid is far more capable of assuring that particular outcome than he is.

“Yeah, that’d be great.”

Hiccup tries not to watch them. He offers to order a pizza, because of course he didn’t plan for dinner in the rush of getting the tree and he doesn’t think anywhere delivers a whole Christmas goose on such short notice. He tries to focus on his phone or Snotlout and Eretson’s conversation about some law he doesn’t think he’s broken yet, but his entire being still snaps to attention when Astrid makes his mom laugh.

“…not even listening to me, are you?” Snotlout’s voice breaks his concentration as he tries to make sense of the joke or embarrassing story about him or whatever they’re bonding over and he glares at him.

“What?”

“I said ‘you’re not even listening to me, are you?’,” Snotlout scoffs and stands up, walking over to the chair as Eretson migrates closer to the tree, “and then you said ‘what?’, which proved you weren’t—”

“What did I miss?” Hiccup rolls his eyes, “because I heard the whole story where you admitted to my mother that I was wrongly incarcerated for murder. Thanks for that, by the way.”

“No problem, I figured it’d be easier if she heard it from me.” His smile is borderline flirtatious, and Hiccup grinds his teeth.

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what? Don’t give you another reason to thank me?”

“What’s the reason?” Hiccup stands up, returning to the counter to refresh his yaknog, sure that he’s going to need it to cushion whatever Snotlout is about to say.

“I’m doing you a favor—”

“Tell me what the favor is, and I’ll decide if I’m going to thank you for it.” His eyes flick to the tree again when Astrid laughs. She must have stolen Eretson’s antlers at some point and she slaps his hand away when he tries to recover them.

“I think your mom should sleep in my bed.”

“What?” Hiccup snaps, too loud, and everyone looks at him like they’re nervous to even attempt to understand the size and scale of whatever his problem is.

“Is everything ok?” Astrid cocks her head and he nods back at her, tight lipped and sloshing yaknog on the front of his apparently inadequate blue sweater when he tries to wave her off.

“Fine. Good. I just need to talk to Snotlout outside for a second. Alone. Where no one can hear him scream—”

“Scream?” Eretson asks but Snotlout brushes him off, following a little too willingly when Hiccup drags him out into the stairwell.

“I asked you to stop with the hitting on my mom jokes for one day,” he hisses out on the sidewalk, glaring at the carolers who have managed to move all of a block down the frigid sidewalk, even as the slow falling snow should have convinced them to head home by now, “for Astrid to meet her, because it’s a big deal—”

“It’s not a joke—”

“Sometimes, I wish I’d gotten convicted for shooting you so that double jeopardy could apply,” he runs out of steam all at once, shoulders slumping, “so are you telling Eretson that you think my mom should sleep with you or is it my turn to make a fool out of you by telling a stupid story?”

“I said your mom should sleep in my bed,” Snotlout claps him on the shoulders, “not with me. I can crash with Eret while she’s here, then your mom doesn’t have to sleep on the couch. I already changed the sheets.”

“If that’s what you meant, why did you phrase it like that?”

“To make you freak out,” he shrugs.

“Right. Thanks for that.”

“No problem,” Snotlout pulls a wad of green out of his pocket and it takes a second for Hiccup to recognize plastic mistletoe, “we’ll probably head out soon, actually, I grabbed this from Astrid’s decoration stash, I was thinking about hanging it from my belt buckle.”

“Gross.”

“Eret seems pretty into Christmas, I thought it was festive—”

“I’m going to go back inside, before you say anything else, or before—” Before something goes less than perfectly between Astrid and his mom. “Nope, that one reason is enough.”

“Dude,” Snotlout sighs, “calm the fuck down, Astrid’s great, and way too hot for you. There’s no way your mom isn’t going to like her.”

“Great pep talk.”

“I’m here to help,” Snotlout claps him on the shoulder before leading the way back inside.

He explains his purposed sleeping arrangements to Hiccup’s mom, and she makes another comment about how surprised she is at his politeness. If it wouldn’t make him stick around and cause more havoc, Hiccup might take the opportunity to clarify that it’s all an act, and a thin one at that, but as little as he wants to think about what Snotlout just overshared, he really wants him to leave. Not only to get his wildcard mouth out of the situation, but because there’s something nuclear about the idea of being alone with Astrid and his mom. Something a little more traditionally family shaped.

His dad’s absence is a little heavier as they sit around the remarkably well-balanced tree, eating pizza and hashing out vague plans for the next few days. Astrid teasingly promises to help with a Grimborn tour, if he’s too rusty, and he wonders what must show on his face for his mom to yawn so quickly and excuse herself to bed, blaming flights and travel and anything other than Hiccup’s blush.

She points silently at Astrid’s back on the way to Snotlout’s room before giving Hiccup a not so subtle thumbs up that he appreciates as much as it embarrasses him.

After the door is shut, Astrid stands with a yawn, stretching her arms over her head and shuffling towards the kitchen, promising to put the remnants of the yaknog away and meet him in the bedroom. And listening to the quiet clang of the pitcher in the fridge while he takes off his work clothes and flops onto the bed in his underwear only enforces the feeling of home and family and stifling rightness that has perfumed every awkward minute of tonight.

Astrid pauses when the door clicks shut behind her, cocking her head as he props himself up on an elbow, a bemused little smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

“What?” He looks down at his chest, “did Yaknog soak through my shirt?”

“I can’t tell from here,” she unbuttons her pants and shoves them down to join his in a disorganized pile on the floor before doing that female trick where her arms disappear into sleeves for a moment and her bra appears, also immediately abandoned. Her sweater hangs halfway down her thighs and her knee-high socks are covered in candy canes and Christmas trees. “I was wondering why you aren’t under the covers.”

“Ran out of energy,” he shrugs, “right here. Can’t move another inch.”

“Right,” she nods, unimpressed as she climbs onto the bed beside him and tugs absently at her side of the covers, biting her lip and sitting cross-legged, tucking her hair behind her ear. “How do you think that went?”

“Oh, I was a spaz, so everything’s right on schedule.” He lays back, hand landing on her knee and sliding down to trace the edge of her sock against her calf.

“No, I mean,” her voice dips, “how do you think I did with meeting your mom?”

“Great,” he rolls on his side to face her, leaning halfway up on an elbow, “of course. Were you worried?”

“Of course, I was worried,” she crosses her arms, but even she struggles to look scary in an oversized sweater and holiday socks.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I thought it was obvious.” She scoffs, “I want your mom to like me, of course I was nervous.”

“She likes you,” he skips to the fact instead of meandering through the long explanation that of course his mom would like her, because there’s nothing unlikeable about her, “she gave me a thumbs up on her way to bed. That’s high approval.”

“Oh,” she brightens, hands tucked back into too long sleeves.

“I have a secret too,” he flops onto his back, “I don’t know if you want to hear it though…”

“Don’t tease me,” she follows, straddling his hips with her hands on his chest, like she’s planning on holding him down until he talks. Not that he minds, if anything he folds his arms behind his head with plans to draw it out. “That’s just mean.”

“Snotlout stole your mistletoe,” he says seriously.

“Bastard,” she whispers, fingers curling absently against his chest.

“I know. I would have fought for it for you—”

“Of course.”

“But he told me he was planning to hang it from his belt buckle, so then it felt tainted.” He laughs when her nose wrinkles in sympathetic disgust. “I know.”

“Well what are we going to do now?” She presses her thumb to his lower lip, fingernails scratching gently through his beard and he shivers. Her smile is just on the right side of teasing,“if you’re cold, you should get under the covers.”

“Told you, I’m too tired,” he pushes back on her hips with hands that suddenly can’t move fast enough and she scoots back enough to let him sit up. “I also told you that wool gives me a rash,” he tries to kiss her as he pulls her sweater up, but she pushes him back with a hand over his mouth.

“Without mistletoe?” She snickers through her false incredulity and he pauses his quest against her sweater to tuck her hair behind her ear, “that’s not very festive.”

“We don’t need it.” He attempts to roll her onto the pillow but only half succeeds, hovering over her as she scoots back, knees hugging his hips when she’s comfortable. “It’s a pagan thing anyway.” Her sweater makes his chest itch when he kisses her neck, but her hand trailing down his side makes it hard to care.

“Oh, so like ‘keep Christ in Christmas’?” She asks, arching into him when he grinds down against her, hand sliding down the back of her thigh.

“No,” he sits back on his heel, carefully unfolding her leg and setting her novelty sock clad heel over his shoulder, “it’s all about commercialism.”

“Right. Of course,” she laughs, eyes bright with something better than Christmas spirit and stronger than yaknog.

“A reason to sell socks,” he kisses the edge of the sock on her calf, “and deforest small, ornamental trees.” He kisses the inside of her knee. “Run up the electric bill with hundreds of twinkling lights.”

He kisses the inside of her thigh, knees scooting backwards on the bed as her heel drags up his spine.

“They’re LED.” She’s not laughing anymore, voice low like she’s reminding herself to be quiet, and she lifts her hips when he hooks his thumbs in the sides of her underwear.

“A reason to buy twinkling lights, then.” He pushes her sweater up enough to kiss her hipbone and she nearly growls under her breath, hand firm on the back of his head as she redirects his focus.

“Ok, Scrooge.”

He’d make some quip about the ghost of Christmas future not being particularly scary, but he doesn’t think she’s listening.

#ripped #ripped christmas special #httyd fic #modern au #hiccstrid #osha would allow it #eretlout #the meaning of christmas is capitalism and that's just fine with them #meeting the parents

75 notes · View notes

astrophysicist-guitar-god · 5 years ago

Text

Queen - 30 Day Challenge

Day 27: Favorite stage costume?

Since the question doesn’t specify, I’m going to pick outfits for all four guys.

John: John’s stage outfits were mostly low-key, so I had no favorites. I went looking specifically for this challenge, though, and found two that I really like!

Is there anything hotter than a musician in a suit and tie??? Like David Bowie, Bryan Ferry and Robert Palmer, John’s looking damn sharp in this grey ensemble. Seen by me in this post. (deakysgurl).

I’m loving the simplicity of white and black, which Queen as a whole elevated to an art form for their stage outfits. This fitted look for John is particularly nice. Seen by me in this post. (imcompletelylost)

Freddie: Of Freddie’s many looks, I like his leotards the best...on the other hand, the shorts were awfully cute too. Here’s one of each since I couldn’t decide between them.

Of his leotards, I like this striped one the best. The black belt with the bold buckle is a nice touch. Seen by me in this post. (fuckyeahmercury)

My other favorite, the iconic red and white striped shorts and suspenders. How cute are these things? Seen by me in this post. (moustachefreddie)

Roger: I like a lot of Roger’s stage looks; many of them are just pants! Two of my favorite more-than-pants looks:

Everything works here. A dramatic, open black jacket with gold/silver embellishment, worn shirtless with about four necklaces. Sexy and classic. Seen by me in this post. (kadestroyademons)

Another favorite, no particular reason why... No, I’m lying. The outfit itself is bangin’, but honestly, I love the sexy expanse of skin here. Seen by me in this post. (kaz-qhadl1203)

Brian: I have two favorite looks for Brian, and I’m giving honorable mention to those black velvet pants that were extremely flattering to the Tiniest Ass in Rock and Roll (TM).

The long white jacket and pants that he wore with a yellow and white striped shirt, and again with a black and white striped shirt as seen here. Very flattering for his tall, slim build, loose enough to be comfortable without a lot of layers flapping around. A very nice look. Seen by me in this post. (farrokhbulsaramercury)

Ahhh, the white pants and Elvira sleeveless tee. Like, I have unholy amounts of love for this outfit and it’s definitely my favorite. He’s worn the pants with other shirts/tops, but it’s God tier when combined with the Elvira tee. I have to watch this gif loop about 90 times before I can stop watching. Like...damn. Is that sexy, or is it just me? If it’s just me, I’m fine with that. Seen by me in this post. (tenderbri)

There are some very nice shoulder shimmy gifs of this outfit minus the vest, and I can’t find them at the moment, naturally. ;-p

Edited to add: Found ‘em!

Giffed by the fabulous tenderbri, seen in this post:

Like, seriously. That’s why this is my all-time favorite outfit of his. Oh, Brian.

#queen 30 day challenge #30 day queen challenge #Q30DC - 27 #Queen #John Deacon #Brian May #Roger Taylor #Freddie Mercury #I spent waaay too much time on this #Brian in motion

17 notes · View notes

aion-rsa · 4 years ago

Text

Batman: Soul of the Dragon – Bringing a Little Bruce Lee to Bruce Wayne’s World

https://ift.tt/eA8V8J

This article contains Batman: Soul of the Dragon spoilers.

The latest DC animated film Batman: Soul of the Dragon is a complete reimagining of the Dark Knight. It’s an out-of-continuity story, the kind of tale DC usually places under its Elseworlds banner. Set in the 1970s, Soul of the Dragon places Batman (David Giuntoli) as part of an ensemble of heroes, a collection of the top martial arts masters in the DC universe including Richard Dragon (Mark Dacascos), Lady Shiva (Kelly Hu), Ben Turner a.k.a. Bronze Tiger (Michael Jai White), and O-Sensei (James Hong).

“It’s a weird movie in that you can literally take the voice cast and transpose it into live-action and they can make the same movie,” gushes writer Jeremy Abrams, “They’re all accomplished and good looking. It all works!”

Batman: Soul of the Dragon is a mash-up of Batman and ‘70s Kung Fu films. For this film, the comics character Richard Dragon is reinvented as a thinly disguised homage to Bruce Lee.

“I pitch a lot of martial art DC comic ideas,” confesses Abrams. “I’ve been pitching Batman meets Enter the Dragon for a while, and evidently, [Executive Producer] Bruce Timm had a similar idea.” Timm said he’d love to do a 1970s Batman martial arts thing, which led him to Abrams. “Bruce wanted to add on a Big Trouble in Little China element, which is like catnip for me. That’s one of my favorite movies. So, it ended up being like four hours just talking about stuff, and what would work, and what would be cool.”

Abrams and Timm have a great love of ’70s cinema. It’s an unusually fruitful period to set a Batman story according to Abrams.

“One of the great things that they had is all these really distinct genres,” Abrams says. “You had blaxploitation, you had Kung Fu movies, you had James Bond movies. Then you had horror movies that were the satanic panic type cult movies. And our movie is in the center of that and it just all seemed to lend itself to this movie.”

In the 1970s Batman comics strove to distance themselves from Adam West’s campy TV rendition which had become the dominant impression of the character since its wild success from 1966-69. Part of this reinvention involved scaling down Batman’s reliance on gadgets and technology in favor of a more two-fisted, detective style approach. Batman: Soul of the Dragon explores Batman in his formative years, and scales back his resources accordingly. “You’re not going to get the Batcave,” explains Abrams. “You’re going to get the loft above a building, a dance club.”

There are so many Batman stories already so to stand out, the filmmakers sought to bring Batman to his roots by making this more about Bruce Wayne.

“We’ve tried to humanize Batman,” adds director Sam Liu, “so he’s not in the costume for the majority of the film, and it’s more of a human story.”

There’s always risk when retooling a beloved character.

“We get to work on big, A-list superheroes,” Liu says. “These are iconic heroes. They’re not just made up from cartoons and stuff like that. It’s a big responsibility sometimes, but if I spend too much time thinking what it means to so many people, I could get intimidated. After a while…you kind of want to try something different. We’ve done so many Batman stories. Sometimes you try something new and it’s interesting to you, because again, it’s different. But then the fans don’t get on board with it because they kind of want them to stay the same.”

Who is the Best Martial Artist in the DC Universe?

Given the formative theme, Batman: Soul of the Dragon illuminates Batman’s training in martial arts. However, this isn’t exactly Christopher Nolan’s Batman Begins either. Batman doesn’t study ninjutsu with Ra’s al Ghul. Instead, he trains under O-Sensei alongside the most powerful martial artists of DC. Abrams, a consummate comics and martial arts geek, already had his top three DC Universe martial artists picked out.

“Well, I know Shiva’s in there. I know Richard Dragon’s in there, and I know that Ben Turner’s in there,” Abrams says. “I definitely think they are the top. I don’t think Batman breaks the top five in terms of DC martial artists. But he’s cool. I just think he supplements martial arts with so many other things.”

Even though Batman has top billing, he’s not the main character. According to Liu, each of the others in the quartet of heroes could carry their own story.

“We didn’t want any of them to be sidekicks,” Liu says. “We’re so used to these Batman stories where Batman is the guy. It was a very conscious decision in building this, that we made sure that Richard was never a sidekick. If anything, this was a little bit subversively kind of supposed to be more of a Richard story. Batman is just one of the characters. He grew up with these characters, and he’s just part of this ensemble, and each of them have their part in this grander story.”

In the wake of Bruce Lee, Kung Fu oriented characters spread into comics. Marvel’s upcoming Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings, based on a popular comic series that came out in the 1970s, is a leading example, however DC had their own stable of martial masters.

“I know and I love the glut of DC martial arts characters of that era,” states Abrams emphatically. “Everybody has their peculiarities in the things they love about fandom. I know a guy that is really obsessed with the background creatures of Star Wars. But one of my obsessions in the DC universe are these really cool well-defined martial arts characters they have.”

Batman: Soul of the Dragon takes a deep dive into several secondary DC martial artists like Judomaster Rip Jagger (Chris Cox), Edmund Dorrence (Patrick Seitz) and the nefarious Kobra Cult including Jeffery Burr (Josh Keaton), and Lady Eve (Grey Griffin). What is it about cobras and martial arts villains nowadays?

Enter Richard Dragon

While all of the martial artists in this film have been reinvented to some degree from the comic pages to this animated adaptation, the biggest change is Richard Dragon. In the comics, Dragon was originally Richard Drakunovski, a Caucasian character. In later story arcs, Dragon’s title is usurped by his villainous student, Richard Diaz Jr. In Batman: Soul of the Dragon, Dragon is Chinese, a clone of Bruce Lee’s character ‘Lee’ from Enter the Dragon.

“‘Race swapping’ is not usually where I go first because I’d rather just make a new character,” confesses Abrams. “But we made this an Elseworlds, so there’s a lot to be set up. We can do whatever we want.”

For Liu, bringing a positive Chinese character to the DC animated universe was huge.

“It’s funny because when we started this film, they sort of approached me saying, ‘Hey, we’re going to put you in this sort of ’70s Enter the Dragon meets Batman kind of a story.’ I was like, ‘Oh boy. This could go either way.’”

Liu remembers laying out the ground rules in an early writer’s room meeting by saying “Look, I’m Chinese. I just want to make sure that you’re going to do this respectfully, because I don’t really want to be a part of something if it’s just sort of…irresponsible.”

Liu was reassured to learn that respectful representation was at the forefront of everyone’s mind from the very beginning and that sold him on the project.

“I’m an older guy, so I’ve experienced racism and all that kind of stuff, because I grew up in the South when I was very, very young,” Liu says. “It’s horrible. I’ve always liked to get more representation.”

For Liu, Batman: Soul of the Dragon is another step towards increased acceptance of diversity. As an Asian American, he has experienced xenophobia all his life.

“As volatile as it is nowadays, it’s much better,” Liu says. “I remember my dad being an Asian man in the South, and some of the stuff we had to go through. I come from an era where you’re oppressed, so you’re just expected to be that way. Any little movement forward is a big step. For me, personally, I think it’s great.”

As the world’s first global Asian celebrity, Lee was a pioneer before long before diversity became an issue of debate. He lived by example, all the while infusing his philosophy into his constant battle against racism.

“It’s like a theme that’s in Enter The Dragon, the art of fighting without fighting.” In Batman: Soul of the Dragon, there’s even an homage to the scene in Enter The Dragon where Lee drops that line on Parsons (Peter Archer) and tricks him out of a fight.

For Abrams, shifting Richard Dragon to Asian was true to the roots of the character. Dragon first appeared in a paperback novel written by Denny O’Neil under a pseudonym. According to Abrams, “On that cover, it looks like Richard Dragon is an Asian man. And for Bruce [Timm], that’s how he always saw him.” Abrams feels that bringing Dragon back to how he was depicted on that original cover was the way to go. “I think it adds a great diversity and it pulls away from, ‘Oh, here’s another white guy with Batman.’ It makes this really cool ensemble, even more definitively different.”

The Launch of a New Franchise?

The finale of Batman: Soul of the Dragon leaves the door wide open for a sequel. Batman, Dragon, Shiva, and Turner enter another hellish dimension, and what lies ahead is anyone’s guess.

“The ending is actually one of the first things that we came up with,” reveals Abrams. “We looked at each other and thought, ‘This is crazy. But, what if this happens?’ We’re looking around at each other, like, ‘Somebody’s going to stop us, right?’ It’s like, ‘Nope. We’re going to do it.’ The ending fits perfectly with the dream of Batman, which is, ‘I get to fight evil, forever.’”

So will there be a Batman: Return of the Dragon?

“Bruce Timm had talked about potentially doing more if this does really well,” adds Liu. “I think he’s in talks with some other creators and stuff like that, because he’s such a fan of the ’70s that I think that he would love to be able to continue doing more stories, especially in this genre. This story is really, really personal as far as just all the things that he loves. I think both him and Jeremy are in love with this era and this genre.”

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

Batman: Soul of the Dragon is available now on Digital and Blu-ray.

The post Batman: Soul of the Dragon – Bringing a Little Bruce Lee to Bruce Wayne’s World appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/2NEdx2P

#aion-rsa #Den of Geek

1 note · View note

bettycooperoutfitwatch · 5 years ago

Text

3x04 Chapter Thirty-Nine: The Midnight Club

I love this episode, but it’s explicitly one in which Betty is merely an observer. I sort of don’t know how to handle it in the context of this project.

Let’s explore what Betty has going on, and then we’ll take a glance at Young Alice. There’s a lot of paralleling of our two generations in this episode, so there’s some relevance to this.

(Me when I heard they were making this episode.)

(Big mood)

This outfit is...so great. These cropped navy pinstripe pants are just so different from anything we’ve seen Betty in before, and paired with a mustard yellow & navy ribbed ringer tee? Navy slip-on Keds? It’s so fucking jaunty. Love the v-cut on the hem of the pants.

This is also quite a lot of fun, even if the length of the wide-leg overalls slightly annoys me. My youth was full of ratty-hem jeans because we wore our bootcut jeans long—ratty hems are what happens when they’re constantly dragging on the ground—but ripped jeans aren’t in Betty’s wheelhouse (at least, not yet...)

We first saw this pink leather jacket in 303.

You know whose wheelhouse ripped jeans are in? Alice Smith.

Let’s dive into a special edition of Alice Smith Outfit Watch.

The costumes for the flashbacks in this episode are fairly authentically 90s—or so they read to me, a person who was admittedly very young for most of the decade.

But if I could editorialize—what is odd about The Midnight Club, is that it’s a 90s-set episode with a soundtrack exclusively from the 80s. In fairness, no decade really defines itself until halfway through. This is why everyone thinks Mad Men begins in the 50s, when in fact it’s explicitly 1960—it’s just that none of the signifiers we know as “the 60s” will show up for a few years. That’s perhaps Riverdale’s excuse here; that and this episode is in part an homage to The Breakfast Club (1985).

Still—Alice name drops Nirvana, Winona & Johnny at the top, and her wardrobe is absolutely grunge meets Like a Prayer-era Madonna meets Shelly Johnson. We could have heard a couple early 90s tunes, at minimum. They didn’t have to blow the music budget on David Bowie and Tears for Fears (altho Modern Love and Everybody Wants to Rule the World are true chunes, so at least they made good choices.)

Before we dive in, let’s take a moment to remember Southside Alice as she manifests in adulthood.

Ah yes. It’s all there. From the black leather and the sheer top to the layered jewelry and fishnets. The wardrobe team definitely worked retroactively from this to create a look for young Alice.

These flashbacks take place over a period of weeks, if not months (altho not too long, since Alice is never visibly pregnant. Eternal caveat: it’s Riverdale, etc.)

Young Alice wears a very limited number of items in a seemingly infinite number of combinations. She’s not wealthy. She doesn’t have the upper middle class means that Betty does (or modern day Alice does, I guess).

Just look at that layering. Layering necklaces is an art. But true to Southside-form, young Alice layers everything, and a lot of it, all the time. It recalls season one Jughead quite a bit; he was homeless for a time, and was thus prepared for harsh realities. Stepford Wife Adult Alice always seemed oddly tolerant of Betty dating this Southside kid, in a way that perhaps made one wonder. Knowing more about her background and own history provides some enlightenment.

These two moments take place on explicitly different days, and yet she’s wearing essentially all the same items.

We could literally take an inventory of the items of clothing Alice owns: Serpent jacket, a black cap, ripped jeans, black tights, fishnet leggings, black & mustard flannel shirt, fingerless gloves (very John Bender), black corset, black bra, rose-print sheer crop top, black boots, 2 black belts with silver hardware, an array of jewelry (including but not limited to rings, a number of crosses & chains, a choker, earrings, some bracelets), and a black backpack. She also wears a black lace long-sleeve top and a black skirt (or are they shorts?) for Artie Andrews’s funeral.

There’s also the coronet and robe she wears as the Sorceress.

These JEANS. These are g r e a t.

Admittedly, there’s some repetition in the outfits of the other members of the Midnight Club, too. For example, Penelope wears this embroidered vest a few times.

(Foreshadowing.)

So maybe this point is entirely moot. A television wardrobe department has a budget, and they can’t blow it all on a single episode.

After Featherhead dies, and the Midnight Club disbands, we meet Alice Smith on the road to becoming Alice Cooper—still by way of Madonna. But like, Blonde Ambition Madonna, fittingly.

(PS Betty and Alice have the same locker.)

With a faux-Chanel blazer and a denim skirt (echoes of Betty!) There is literally no black in this outfit. Her tights are b r i g h t pink, and she’s got on shiny silver heels. She’s cut her hair and blown out the curls.

Summary: Betty wears 2 outfits, and I could not even attempt to count Alice’s

That backpack?: EVEN HERE, YES

Best Betty outfit: mustard ringer and pinstripe pants!!

Best Young Alice outfit: Every time I see that image of Alice sat on the floor in the circle where they’re picking their characters, I think of that one gifset that’s just like step on my neck

There’s a really lovely fanart breakdown of Betty and Alice’s outfits this ep!, too

#3x04 #s3 #riverdale #betty cooper outfit watch #betty cooper #long post #tumblr doesn't understand how US daylight savings time works?

91 notes · View notes

shootwinterfest · 5 years ago

Text

The Story of a Christmas Elf

Shoot Secret Santa Gift by @hackersandhammers

Tree sap was sticky and plain out inconvenient. Sameen Shaw stood in the middle of the store and rubbed her hands on the front of her shirt, swearing under her breath. She caught a glimpse of herself in a mirror and glared at her reflection. One of her coworkers made eye contact through the mirror and promptly made a b-line in the other direction.

She had already made a reputation for herself. Most of the other employees at the toy store knew to stay away.

Her boss, the main store manager knew that she was supposed to be good at her job. Somehow she was recommended as a top decorator and was thought to have the precision of a surgeon when it came to details. That was coming from her references and her impressive portfolio thanks to Root and The Machine. Her actual decorating skills were mediocre at best.

The store needed all hands on deck for Christmas. They just made sure to keep her away from actual customers. They needed her decorating skills, not her personality. That was fine by Shaw.

The store Shaw was working at was highly esteemed and went by the name Toy Castles. It always made it in New York’s top magazines for the holidays. Sometimes, it even made it in some holiday movies. A large part of that was due to the decorations.

The other half was that all the competition went out of business.

Most people didn’t buy toys in stores anymore if you thought about it logically. Online shopping was taking over but if you got creative with your thought process, well, some things didn’t add up. That’s what Root told her anyway. Shaw didn’t really care about the details and she never bothered to ask.

So, here Shaw was, a grown woman dressed as an elf with a hat and pointy ears that she had to glue on every morning. She needed to keep this cover no matter how much she hated it.

Shaw cut out another paper gingerbread man. It stuck to her fingers.

“Shi-”

“Hi, Shaw.” A man interrupted. He joined her and stood by her side, reaching for the second pair of scissors to cut out paper candy canes at the workstation.

“David.” Shaw acknowledged him and kept working. He was the only employee that she could stand. She actually liked working with him and they both respected each other’s space. If only everyone was like that. He reminded her of Reese.

This whole situation could be worse. She could work at the store permanently. She knew she was only going to be here for a few more days. She hoped. That thought was the only thing that made this bearable.

“Hey, how are my two favorite elves?” The front end manager walked in. His elf costume was more elaborate than theirs with a shiny gold tag labeled “Leon” proudly pinned to his chest.

The two of them barely acknowledged him as he came in draping his arms around Sameen’s shoulders and awkwardly attempting to do the same with David but failing because of his height. “Only one week until Christmas!”

It took all the self-control Shaw had to not punch him. Instead, she shot him a warning glare. “Right,” He stopped acting chummy and got the hint.

She couldn’t believe Root got Leon on this mission too. This was the first time she had worked with him and she wished it would be the last. She never wanted to see him again after this.

“What do you want Leon?” Shaw said between her teeth.

“Doors are opening at eight o’clock. We wouldn’t mind you in the back stockroom, Shaw.” He said with a gulp.

“That’s alright with me,” Shaw said.

“Um, one more thing. Santa is going to be here at ten and we need some elves to stand by his side at the North Pole. I was hoping maybe you’d be interested?”

“No.” She wasn’t going to be a babysitter and she wasn’t going to listen to Leon. He definitely wasn’t going to fire her or tell upper management. They were both on this job to find a number, a Dylan Marks who has failed to show up so far. The little details of a retail store weren’t going to get in the way.

“Right, I’ll just get back to work. Uh, David, we need the candy canes hanging over the registers. Can we get you over there before the doors open?” He directed his attention over to her co-worker. Shaw immediately tuned out.

Figuring the conversation was over, she took her gingerbread cutouts from the table, moving to the front of the store.

Toy Castles was impressive, the front windows were fully made from glass, the windows stretching from floor to ceiling. As per tradition, the glass was almost completely covered with Christmas decorations. Shaw put the gingerbread men in the empty spots. She peered through the glass across the street. A coffee shop with equally giant glass windows was directly across.

Root was on the other side.

Shaw lost focus on the gingerbread men. Root had been visiting the same table since Shaw first started working at the toy shop. Every morning had gone the same since then. Sameen would hang up decorations in the front window and Root would gaze across the street at her.

This was irritating, Root didn’t tell her why she needed to work here. She just told her to wait. The days kept on dragging on and Shaw’s patience kept getting shorter.

Today, Root was wearing a dress. Her coat was hanging on the back of her chair and her hands glided expertly across the keys of her keyboard. Shaw had no idea why Root was so dressed up. It was almost Christmas and it was freezing in New York. Not that Shaw was complaining anyway, she didn’t mind the view.

Root looked up at Shaw, she smiled smugly while picking up her drink and biting her straw seductively. Root attempted a wink and failed spectacularly. Shaw looked at her blankly, immediately feeling a bit of irritation and something else that only Root got out of her.

To say Root was annoying was an understatement.

It only took a second for the moment to end. Root’s attention was brought back to her laptop. Shaw watched her get back to work while she finished hanging the gingerbread men. The day was about to start.

“Hey, are you about done over there?” An employee caring keys walked to the front door. She was about to unlock the store.

“Yeah,” Shaw said, finishing getting the last decoration in place.

Families and parents were starting to line up at the door. Not wanting to be in the middle of a Jingle All the Way situation, she finished quickly.

Shaw was starting to learn that parents were the worst demographics of people she ever had to deal with. They’d bite, scratch, and claw their way to get a cheap plastic toy. Shaw wasn’t even allowed to punch them. Fortunately, she’d be spending the day in the stockroom. She made her way towards the back of the store.

The doors to the store opened. Shaw could hear kids and parents in the main building as she went through the first shipments and opened the new boxes with her box cutter. More decoration materials came in last night. Fresh-cut Douglas Fir branches filled the box. The aroma was unmistakable but it always made her sneeze. They were meant to be turned into fresh wreaths. She started to get to work.

The rest of the day was like this. More boxes and more branches turned into misshapen Christmas wreaths. The day was completely uneventful. Shaw clocked out in frustration, her hands sticky with tree sap.

“Only six days left until Christmas.” Lean reminded her again as she walked out of the store.

>>>

That night Sameen scrubbed her hands for an extra five minutes in the shower. It felt as though the tree sap would never come off. She gave up and turned off the water. It was late, she was hungry, and her apartment was welcoming but devoid of food. She’d have to go back out again.

She exited out of her bathroom door in a tank top and boy shorts, towel drying her hair.

“Hi, Sameen,” Root was sitting on her bed with her laptop open.

“Can’t you knock?”

“You were busy so I let myself in.” Root looked up from her work, she lifted up a brown paper bag that was at her side, “Someone told me you didn’t eat.”

“If it doesn’t have extra mustard, I’ll kick your ass.”

“Don’t worry, I know what you like,” Root said with a grin.

Root’s double innuendo wasn’t lost on Shaw and she rolled her eyes, taking the bag from Root’s grip. She sat down next to her on the bed, pulling out the sandwich. They had become accustomed to this when Root was in New York. Shaw stopped kicking Root out and Root stopped destroying her locks. Root stole a key instead and Shaw never asked for it back.

“What’s this?” Shaw pointed to Root’s laptop after she pulled back the wrapping to her sandwich. It looked like bank statements.

“I’m working on something with your current employers.” Root scrolled down on her laptop. It looked like the statements went back for several years.

“Why do you have me there? The number I’m after isn’t at that hell.”

“Patience, Sameen. You know holding off always has a great reward.”

“Shut-Up.” Shaw took a large bite of her sandwich. She didn’t press the subject of the number again.

Root continued to work at her side and quickly, Shaw’s sandwich was gone. Taking out a bag of chips, Shaw opened the bag with a rustle and a pop. She tried to make sense of what Root was working on but all she could figure out was what she had first seen. Toy Castles was making a large amount of money but it wasn’t from toys.

“There is another bag of chips in the bag, can you get them out?” Root asked.

“Uh-huh.” Shaw dug in the brown paper bag and pulled out some Cheetos.

They ate their chips in silence as Root worked.

Eventually, Shaw got bored and she pulled back the covers to her side of the bed. She faced her back towards Root and fell asleep. She’d have another long day at the toy shop tomorrow. Hopefully, it would be more interesting than hanging up decorations and making wreaths.

>>>

Four days passed. Nothing happened that was worth noting. It was no surprise that Shaw wanted to strangle someone more than normal. What made it worse was that she was having a particularly bad morning. It might have been because she dropped her bagel on the sidewalk as she walked to the toy shop. The day was already shaping up to be horrible.

Shaw walked into the back to clock in.

“Psst, Shaw,” A voice came from the distance as Shaw clocked in. She knew who that voice belonged to. Leon was hiding behind a potted plant between the vending machine.

“What do you want Leon?” Shaw really didn’t feel like dealing with him.

“I need your help,” His voice sounded shaky.

“You want me to ask David for your lunch money back?” Shaw said sarcastically.

“What?” He looked confused for a moment, “Yes… um, but there is something worse.” He got out from behind the plant and looked both ways down the hall before continuing, “Follow me.”

Shaw had no idea what he was up to but if it was anything to make her day exciting she was up for it. They walked to the break-room and the employee lockers. No one else was in the room. Most of the employees were already out on the sales floor or the back stockroom.

“Leon, what the hell is going on?” She watched him as he stopped at his locker and looked around the room cautiously again.

“Don’t judge okay, it’s not mine,” He said and opened his locker slowly. He pulled out a large paper bag and opened it for Shaw to see.

Several bags of cocaine were inside.

“What the hell?” Shaw looked back up at Leon.

“It’s not mine I swear,” Leon closed the paper bag. He practically threw it back inside his locker and clasped the lock in a hurry.

“Who gave you that?”

“David,” Leon said in a whisper, “He wants me to deliver it to this address on Christmas eve.” Leon handed her a note with an address on it.

“Why do you get all the fun?” Shaw replied as she read the address.

“Fun?” Leon started in a harsh whisper, “This isn’t fun. David said something about proving my loyalty but I don’t want to prove anything. He said if I told anyone he’d kill me.”

“When did this start?”

“When David stole my lunch money the first time… and when Laney stole it the second… and-”

“Okay, I get it. You have gullible written all over you.” Shaw handed Leon back the note with the address, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I tried!” Leon’s voice raised. He quickly clasped his hand over his mouth.

“Okay, fair. I’m going with you to the address so stop freaking out. Who else is involved in this?”

“Practically everyone at the store,” Leon took a deep breath in.

“Why didn’t I hear about this?”

“Because they’re scared of you!” Leon started to walk away from his locker. He still looked uneasy.

“Okay.” This was understandable. It also made sense where the toy store was getting all its money.

“Okay-okay, I need to get out of here now. Get back on the floor and act as if nothing happened. They’re not going to kill me right? Or am I going to get arrested and sent to jail? I’m too handsome for jail. I’ll be fresh meat, it’ll be a mess! What if I die? I don’t want to die on Christmas,” Leon started rambling.

Shaw walked behind him and let him continue his speech. He needed to get the energy out and she wouldn’t have to listen to him again when she went to the back stockroom.

Her bad mood was starting to lift. Finally, something interesting was happening.

>>>

“You can’t have me going in there alone,” Leon clutched the brown paper bag to his chest. It was the night of Christmas eve and nothing was stirring on the street. A dark and ominous apartment complex loomed over them in a shady part of the city. He was there to deliver the contents of the bag.

“I’m only a call away,” Shaw said as she pointed at her ear. They both had an earpiece so they could communicate with each other.

“But what if it’s a trap?”

“I’ll bust you out of it.”

“You sure?”

“Leon,” She gave him a glare.

“Yeah, sure,” Leon gulped, he hesitated for a moment, “Where is the tall guy and the dog?” He asked, cracking the car door.

“Another number,” Shaw said. Honestly, she would have preferred working on another number herself.

“Oh...” Leon mumbled, “I like working with them better.”

“We can agree on something,” Shaw said under her breath as he exited the car door.

She watched him enter the building and disappear behind the entrance. Shaw didn’t like being on the sidelines but this was the best she could do. She took out her DSLR camera and pointed it at the apartment complex.

Taking several photographs, she really couldn’t get a focus on anything interesting. She had Leon take his phone and leave it recording in the inside pocket of his jacket. Hopefully, he can capture some audio that would be useful to whatever Root was working on. With her camera, Shaw was unable to capture anything of interest.

For now, all Shaw could do was wait.

The car was starting to get cold, he had been in the building for a while. It might have been a mistake sending him alone. He wasn’t trained like her or Reese and he wasn’t even a police officer like Fusco. This might have been a mistake. Shaw picked up the camera and tried zooming in on the windows again.

Bang!

A noise that sounded like a door slamming came from her earpiece.

“Shaw, I think I messed up!” Leon’s voice was heard. It was obvious that he was panicked.

“Where are you?” Shaw was on alert, her adrenaline started kicking in. She had been waiting for this moment for a long time.

“Second floor. Come quick!”

Shaw jumped out of the car and rushed towards the building. She knew what apartment room he was in. Second-floor third room to the right, she rushed up the steps of the apartment building. The door to room 204 was slightly cracked. She drew her USP Compact, slowly entering the apartment with her handgun drawn.

She didn’t know what to expect.

The apartment was completely bare of any furniture or decorations but that’s not what stood out. A tall man was standing in the center of the living room.

“Oh, so you are a snitch.” The man spotted her entering the room.

Shaw couldn’t tell who he was because his face was covered in a ski mask but she recognized his voice and his build.

The man was David.

“Shaw, wait!” Leon was in the corner of the room. His hands were up with his palms up at his sides. David had a gun pointed at him.

“Quiet, snitch!” He yelled at Leon.

“David, I know it’s you.” Shaw got closer to him. She didn’t lower her gun.

“Damnit, I knew you weren’t a decorator,” David said, he kept the gun pointed at Leon.

“Are you working alone?” Shaw asked. The whole situation was tense. Shaw knew that any wrong move would set David off.

“I’m not answering your questions,” David shifted uncomfortably, “If you get any closer, I’ll shoot.”

“Wait!” Leon said, he backed away as far as he could until he hit a wall. “I know you were ordered to do this from mister toy master himself. The guy who owns Toy Castles, right?”

“Shut-up,” David growled at Leon.

“No, I know this is how you start this whole drug thing. You take some easy people off the street, pay them minimum wage in New York but then offer them big money to sell some drugs so they won’t go homeless.” Leon continued.

“I said, shut up!” David was getting even more agitated.

Shaw kept the gun pointed at David. Shaw realized that Leon was an easy mark but he wasn’t a coward. She let him continue without intervening.

“This was the test? You give them the drugs and see if they deliver it back to you? What do you do if they fail, do you kill them?” Leon asked.

“That’s right, this is a test, I guess you’re sharper than you look. I’ve never had this before though,” He pointed at Shaw, “ Didn’t even know you two were friends. Guess, I’m going to have to kill you both.”

“No, wait!” Leon yelled.

Shaw only had time to react, everything after this point was a blur.

Three gunshots went off. With a thud, two bodies hit the floor.

>>>

Tree sap clung to Shaw’s fingers for the last time. She tried to wash it out with shampoo in the shower. It was late, Shaw had another long night that was stretching into the early morning.

It hadn’t been a bad night.

Shaw walked out of her bathroom towel drying her hair. She was in a tank top and boy shorts. The night was almost the same as every other night but this time she didn’t have to worry about going back to the toy shop the next morning.

“Hey stranger, Merry Christmas” Root was sitting on Shaw’s bed. She was messing with Leon’s phone and wearing an ugly sweater and pajama pants.

“Is it Christmas?”

“It’s past midnight, sweetie,” Root smiled, “Ready for a present?”

“I hope you brought food,” Shaw ignored her.

“Don’t worry Sameen, I brought some take-out.”

Shaw grinned, she was starving and Root always seemed to know what she was in the mood for.

“I’ll take that phone back to Leon tomorrow. He won’t even notice it’s gone. He’s too busy poking at his new bruise,” Shaw sat down next to Root. They opened the Chinese takeout and started splitting up the food.

She was glad that Root suggested that Leon should take a bulletproof vest. He hid it under his large winter coat and after the events of the last several hours, she didn’t really hate him. He had earned her respect. In the face of danger, there weren’t many people who would take a bullet. He fared better than David, who would need knee surgery for two busted kneecaps.

“You know you could have just sent the audio file to me as an attachment.”

“So?” Shaw didn’t really care, “Did you get all the information you needed?”

“I think so.” Root picked up a wallet that had belonged to David. She pulled out a driver’s license with the name Dylan Marks. It had David’s picture on it, the photo ID revealing his real name.

“I guess David was the perp,” Shaw shrugged. That was too bad when they were working together, she actually liked him. Although, he was probably trying to keep his head down. It made him less annoying compared to everyone else but he was just trying to not bring attention to himself.

“Too bad it’s over. I’m going to miss you in that elf costume.” Root smiled.

“If you mention me wearing that one more time-” Shaw trailed.

“Yeah?” Root raised her eyebrows.

“I’ll kick your ass,” Shaw stared at Root and angrily stuffed some sweet and sour chicken in her mouth. She wanted to forget that elf costume ever existed.

“Oh, sounds fun.” Root smiled and took a bite of her own orange chicken.

They ate in silence, enjoying each other’s company. Outside it started to snow. This was one of the better Christmases Shaw could remember having in a long time.

~FIN~

#shoot secret santa #root x shaw

45 notes · View notes

let-it-raines · 5 years ago

Text

Catch Me If You Can (3/?)

298 days. That’s how long Killian Jones was away from a baseball field. It’s less than a year, only part of a season for him, but it might as well have lasted a decade as he alternated between physical therapy and spending an excessive amount of time sitting on his couch.

But then he came back and won the World Series.

It’s something no one saw coming, and it’s certainly not something anyone who knows about his arm would predict. Now it’s a new season with new possibilities, and anything could happen. On-field reporter Emma Swan will be there to cover it all even if she is not his biggest fan right now.

Asking her out live on-air will do that.

Rating: Mature

A/N: Shoutout to my spectacular beta @resident-of-storybrooke 🧡 I’m the worst writer and send her multiple chapters at a time instead of just the one, and she gets things back to me in record time!

We get some background information on Emma in this chapter to further set up the story, and I thank you for reading! I’m really, really excited about a lot of the things I have planned for this story!

I promise they interact in all chapters after this

Found on AO3: Beginning | Current

Tumblr: 1 | 2 | 3 |

Tag list: @sals86 @iam2307 @ashley-knightingale @snowbellewells @karenfrommisthaven @skyewardolicitycloisdelena91 @scientificapricot @captswanis4vr @emmas-storybook @ultimiflos @jamif @idristardis @nikkiemms @resident-of-storybrooke @tiganasummertree @wellhellotragic @bmbbcs4evr @onceuponaprincessworld @jennjenn615 @mayquita @captainsjedi @teamhook @kmomof4 @ekr032-blog-blog @ultraluckycatnd @cs-forlife @andiirivera @jonirobinson64 @mariakov81 @galaxyzxstark @qualitycoffeethings @thejollyroger-writer

-/-

“What are you getting David for his birthday?”

Emma looks to her right where Ruby is stretched out on her yoga mat, doing a stretch that definitely isn’t anything that’s taught in a certified class. She can’t tell if she’s gotten stuck that way or if she’s simply given up on getting some early morning exercise. They really have to start going back to spin class sometime soon. Maybe tomorrow.

“I bought him some new dress shirts.”

“That’s boring.”

“Have you not gotten him anything, Rubes?” She swipes her blush against her cheek waiting for Ruby to answer. She doesn’t. “The party is tonight. You know that, right? And we’re about to be at work all day editing.”

“Why do you think I’m asking so that I have time to get Graham to go get something on his lunch break?”

“You have no shame.”

Ruby falls onto her mat, star fishing out on the floor before propping herself up on her elbows, her bun coming undone so that it hangs messily on her shoulders. “I know. So, what should I buy him? He’s turning forty. Is he having a midlife crisis? Should I get him some hair dye?”

“Only if you want to be murdered.”

Ruby grunts before rising from her mat and stretching out. “Eh, it might be worth it. I think I’ll just get him a Shake Shack gift card. I’m not his sister. I can get away with a semi-shitty gift.”

She chuckles as she grabs her brush for her bronzer and runs it across her cheekbone, blending it in. “It’s not semi-shitty if he takes us to lunch with it.”

“True. Alright,” Ruby claps, picking her mat up, “I’m going to go shower, and then we can go to work. Ten minutes tops.”

It’s twenty minutes, which is actually less time than Emma was expecting, before she and Ruby walk out of their apartment, walking the three blocks to their train station and swiping their metro cards to get through the gate so they can take the ten-minute ride to the studios. They rarely have to go into the actual offices before ten. The only time they have to be at work earlier than that is when there’s an early game and they have to make their way across Manhattan to get to the fields. That’s a bit of a bigger commute. But this morning the weather is relatively nice, the trains aren’t crowded or full of people in T-rex costumes, and she and Ruby get to the office and through security before they have to be there.

She leaves Ruby on the seventh floor before going up to the tenth to the editing room, her eyes having to adjust from the brightness outside to the dim lights inside the room that’s really only lit by screens.

“Anton, how the hell do you live in the sunlight after staying in here all day?”

Anton twists in his chair to look at her before turning back to the screen that he’s working on, clicking on a few keys as he speaks. “It’s only dark right now because I’m trying to get the lighting right on this edit. Something is wrong with the shadows. Get Ash to set you up. You’ve got over eight hours of footage to go through, so this probably isn’t going to get finished today.”

“He’s only talking in about an hour and a half of that.”

“Yeah, but you’ve got to get the filler and then your notes. It’s a whole thing when you have a big segment like this. You’ll get used to it.”

She nods even though Anton isn’t paying any attention to her, before stepping into the room and around some of the editors she’s never worked with until she’s sitting down at Ashley’s workstation, picking up the pair of headphones that she uses and rolling up to the screen as she watches Ashely piece together several clips to promote whatever tennis tournament is going on right now. She thinks it’s the one in Palm Springs, but she hasn’t really been able to keep up with things lately.

“Sorry about that,” Ashley apologizes, flashing her a smile. “Alexandria had a late night last night, and I didn’t get into work in time to finish this up until you got here. But now my attention is all yours.”

“Is she okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. She’s teething is all. It’s miserable for all of us.”

“I bet. I remember when Leo was teething. David aged about fifteen years.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better.”

“Sorry, sorry,” she laughs, patting Ashley’s arm. “I won’t tell you any other stories about miserable babies. Let’s talk the interview.”

Ashley nods and clicks around on her computer until she’s pulling up Emma’s file, all of the hours of footage broken down. Emma has a basic understanding of how all of this works, but it’s mostly above her knowledge and paygrade. That’s why she’s glad to have people like Ashley and Anton, especially when they can easily throw out shaky or unusable footage to narrow things down even more. She tells Ashley that she wants to work on the main interview first, to make sure she can show all of the pieces she wants, and then they’ll work on finding the filler footage and the music to be played in the background. This is the first time Emma has ever worked on an edited segment that’s more than one minute, so it’s all a whole new world to her.

“This is good,” Ashley murmurs, her voice a small whisper outside of the headphones. “Like, really good. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him be this open before.”

“Jones? Jones is an open book.”

Her brows raise before settling back down at a regular height. “You are literally the most knowledgeable person on this subject in this building, and you think that Jones is an open book?”

“I mean, yeah. He’s baseball player, first and foremost. He’s young, hot, likes to spend his money and go out with every woman with big boobs and a pulse.”

Ashley actually laughs at that, rolling back in her chair before rewinding the video to a part where Killian is talking about his nieces and how they collect bobble heads, particularly his, and scatter them throughout their house for their parents to have to pick up. Emma remembers laughing at that, remembers thinking it’s sweet, but she’s not entirely sure why Ashley is showing it to her again.

“I know you probably hate him for asking you out like that, which was kind of a dick move, but anyone with eyes can tell he’s a sweet guy. I mean, he spent his injury break learning how to bake and sitting with his nieces so that they didn’t have to go to daycare. Yeah, he kind of had a period where he was pictured with a lot of girls, but that was when he was twenty-four and on top of the world. I mean, when you were twenty-four, you’re telling me you wouldn’t have been all over a pretty baseball player if you met him in a bar?”

“I hated all men at twenty-four.”

Ashely shakes her head from side to side, chuckling at her again. Emma hates to admit it, but Ashley is right. She knows that he’s not a bad guy, that’s not some sleazy player. No, he did not make the best decisions in asking her out last year, but in a move that surprised her, he very kindly apologized. And she really should not judge him over that time when he was pictured with girls all the time. For one, he probably dates as much as every other guy, but his dates happen to be publicized. She hates when women are shamed for dating, and here she is judging someone else.

His incessant flirting in all of his interviews and him asking her out have likely framed her view on him when she should know better than to judge by what appears on the surface.

She should also know better than to let a few pretty words make her trust someone.

“I met Sean at twenty-four.”

Emma sighs, curving her lips into a smile before patting Ashely’s arm. “And you two are wonderful. Let’s keep editing before we get distracted by you showing me a million baby pictures.”

“Dammit, Emma,” Anton groans from his seat, “the first rule of the editing room is that you don’t talk about baby pictures.”

After letting Ashley show her new pictures of Alexandra and those adorable chubby cheeks, they finally get around to some more editing, cutting questions that have repeated answers and editing out Emma’s laugh or weird coughing sounds so that she doesn’t look like a total maniac. There’s this part in the film where Killian is standing with his back to the camera and in front of a large set of windows that show off the field, and it looks like it could be a part of the Hall of Fame. It’s a gorgeous shot, and it’s where he’s talking about his hopes and dreams for baseball as well as wanting to get to live a normal life full of everything that his brother has.

Frankly, it’s beautiful enough to make her tear up.

They may just be her, though. As much as sports are about the statistics, about the executions, it’s also about the emotions. In the grand scheme of life, a baseball game doesn’t matter. These men getting paid millions of dollars to play a game don’t change the world. Except that they do. People live and die by the game, by the unpredictability, by the fact that it’s human beings out there pushing their bodies to limits that most people can’t reach. It takes everyone away from the world for a bit, lets them cheer for a happy ending, and even though the losses can be crushing, for just that little while, people feel hope.

Killian Jones coming back from injury, no matter how minor, to win the World Series, gave people hope.

It’s that thought process that guides her in helping Ashley and Anton edit the segment, and even though they only get about halfway through editing, they stop for the day so that Ashley can go home to her family and Anton to his while she walks down three flights of stairs to get to her office shoved into the corner of the corporate floor. There’s literally not even room in there for her to have an extra chair for someone to sit with her, but considering how little time she spends there now, that doesn’t matter. And it’s a step up from the cubicles.

Damn, her segment is going to be good.

This is…she knows she complained about it, and for the right reasons, but this is huge for her career. Right now, she’s more than happy doing post-game interviews and the occasional mid-game updates, but one day she might want to commentate or have her own show. One day she might want to move onto things other than sports. She’s getting ahead of herself, she knows. She simply can’t help it.

She’s excited, and she actually can’t wait to come into work tomorrow to get it all finished.

After sending a text to Ruby asking her if she’s almost ready to go, she logs into her computer and waits for her email to load, figuring she might as well get some more work done while she waits. Ruby’s timing at work is always so unpredictable when they’re not working together, so she has absolutely no idea when they’ll be able to leave to get on the train to Astoria. If only David was in the office today.

She doesn’t have much to sort through, just a few emails asking about the segment, another few talking about food that’s available in the office (she really hates that she missed those), and then another two from Walsh that she immediately deletes. They could be work related, but they’re most likely not.

Dating someone she works with was an absolutely horrible idea that she’ll probably never do again. Walsh is definitely an asshole, one that’s worse than all of the others, but he kind of ruined that workplace peace that she had for awhile. They’d both been stat checkers together, spent their days going blind reading spreadsheets and becoming friends, and when they both got promotions to journalists (ones who actually got to write articles) at the same time, she was pretty sure that it was fate or something crazy like that. They got to have the same job, the same schedule, and she was in that phase of infatuation in a new relationship that it made her stomach constantly feel like it was in those pleasantly painful knots.

Then she interviewed and auditioned for the on-air job to work with the Yankees.

It’s a moment that’s changed her life in an immeasurable amount of ways, but the first and most obvious – before Killian Jones 2k18 – was that her boyfriend of over a year resented her. He resented her, belittled her for what she did for a living, and it all felt so painstakingly familiar that she had to break up with him before he damaged her beyond repair too.

The fact that he was cheating definitely helped that decision.

So for him to still work under one hundred feet away from her in the office and still send her emails on a regular basis is a pretty big sting.

There is no one who got more enjoyment out of her being asked out on live television than Walsh Osborne.

Ruby: I am in the bathroom curling my hair. Meet you by the seventh floor receptionist desk in ten.

Emma: Where did you get a curling iron?

Ruby: The makeup room in the studio.

Of course she did.

Closing out her computer and slipping her booties back on, she leaves her office and locks it up before making her way through the cubicles, specifically going out of her way to avoid Walsh’s desk since she knows he’s still in the office, and waits by the receptionist area with David’s present in her hand. There’s no one sitting there, all of the calls being forwarded through the machine, and she idly wonders where in the world Jacob is.

“We have got to get whatever curling iron it is they use in hair and makeup,” Ruby sighs as she walks into the room, heels that she was not wearing this morning now on her feet and her hair curled into perfectly styled waves. “Seriously, it’s fantastic.”

“It’s, like, over three hundred dollars.”

“We can split it. You ready to go? Graham is going to meet us there.”

“Does he have David’s present?”

“Yep.” Ruby loops her arm through Emma’s elbow, pulling her closer, before walking toward the elevators. “He wins the award for the best boyfriend today.”

“Who is he in competition with?”

“Your non-existent boyfriend.”

She pinches Ruby’s arm, but she doesn’t say anything as the elevator opens and they walk inside. It’s always such a pain to go to David and Mary Margaret’s townhome from the office, if only because of the amount of times they have to switch trains, but it gives she and Ruby time to talk about their days and scroll through their phone, checking up on everything that they’ve missed while working.

(She usually finds time to look while at work. Knowing what’s happening in baseball players’ lives is important to her job, right? It doesn’t make her creepy if they put it online.)

Plus, it’s a Friday afternoon, and that’s always the best time to see people dressed in odd costumes and eating full on turkeys on the subway.

Seriously. That happened once. It wasn’t even Thanksgiving.

By the time they get to the townhouse, it’s past six, and she can see cars parked up and down the street, Mary Margaret’s SUV sitting right in front of their home. She insists on driving everywhere, even when she comes into Manhattan, and Emma will never understand that. But she guesses that they live a bit outside of the most crowded parts of the city and the Mary Margaret is always toting Leo around to school and soccer practice or moving all of her crafts that she takes to her classroom. Emma loves her sister-in-law (it’s easier to say than foster mom’s son’s wife), but she is one of those people whose entire life could be found on a Pinterest board where Emma is more thrift store mashup even with her life being more established lately.

Not that there’s anything wrong with living life like that. It’s simply not Emma’s cup of tea.

“So, how many fortieth birthday themed things do you think Mary Margaret has in their house?”

“I mean, obviously forty.”

“Obviously.”

Graham is sitting on the front steps when they walk up, a small envelope in his hand as he stares down at his phone, and Ruby whistles, making him actually jump from his seat.

“What the hell?” he grumbles, clutching his hand and the envelope over his heart. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

“It depends. Am I the beneficiary of your life insurance plan?”

“Oh my God,” Emma chuckles, shaking her head from side to side as she adjusts the box underneath her arm. “You two are disturbed.”

“Only my girlfriend is.” He stands from the steps and moves closer to quickly press his lips against Ruby’s. “You two ready to go inside?”

“Were you too scared to go inside without us, babe?”

“If I’m honest, yes. I’m not entirely sure what kind of party awaits us.”

“You and me both.”

Emma steps up the stairs and opens the door, knowing that it’s unlocked and that she can just let herself in. She immediately hears the sound of people talking, most noticeably Leo in his high-pitched voice, but everything looks as normal as it always does. The living room is still neatly arranged, a mixture of white and gray furniture, most of it antique, all scattered throughout. The dining room has place settings arranged, but no one sitting there, so she walks to the back of the home where the kitchen is to find everyone all standing around the island eating off of the veggie place that’s set out.

Huh. So maybe David turning forty means that everything is low-key. That’s a refreshing change of pace.

“Emma,” Leo screeches when he sees her, hopping down from the countertop and running toward her, pushing her back with the force of his hug.

“Hey, kid,” she laughs as she moves David’s present so that she can hug Leo back. He’s getting so big, is nearly as tall as she is now, and he’s only ten. She can’t imagine what he’s going to be like when he gets older. She doesn’t really want to. She’s that aunt who gushes about remembering the day that her nephew was born and grossing him out by talking about it. “Why are you letting all of these people eat my food?”

“Because you don’t like vegetables.”

“I definitely do.”

“You never eat collards, and I always have to.”

“Well, that’s because I don’t like collards.”

Leo scrunches up his nose, his face twisted in disgust like he’s eating those collards, before he grabs her hand and starts trying to tug her back to the entryway. “Come on, Emma, I want to show you my new Captain America shield.”

“I’ve got to go say hi to your parents, but why don’t you go get it and bring it down to show me?”

“Okay.”

He nods his head and then runs upstairs, his footsteps loud, and she turns back toward the kitchen to start talking to people who most likely don’t have Captain America shields in their bedroom. Well, they could. He’s kind of a big deal.

America’s ass and all that.

David is swiping a carrot through a bit of dip, and she takes the opportunity to put her present on the table before wrapping her arms around David’s stomach. He’s so incredibly warm, as always, and she appreciates the solid nature of him as his hand comes up to cup the back of her head, his lips pressing into her hairline.

“Happy birthday, old man.”

“Excuse me. I am in the prime of my life.”

She rolls her eyes, unable to help herself before pulling back and patting his chest. “Sure, if you think so.”

“I do. I’m glad you made it today.”

“And miss your birthday so that I have to hear it every day at work? Never.”

“That wouldn’t happen.”

“It would,” Ruby adds in. “It would be one of those things that you’d bring up every opportunity you get. You’d feed it into her earpiece while she was on air so that she’d do that thing with her nose where it scrunches up all weird to make her look like a mouse.”

“I do not do that.”

“You do, sweetie,” Mary Margaret adds in, opening up the refrigerator and grabbing a bowl of what Emma sincerely hopes is Mary Margaret’s pasta salad. “It’s so, but it does make you look like a mouse. Or like you smelled something bad.”

“Well, I am next to a bunch of sweaty men. I could smell something bad.”

“True.”

“And Ruby, you can’t say anything. You talk in my earpiece all of the time.”

“That’s my job.”

“It’s not your job to talk about assess in pinstripes.”

“Eh,” she protests, clicking her tongue and tilting her head to the side. “I think it might be.”

“I’m sorry,” a woman Emma doesn’t know says, breaking Emma out of their little bubble to remember that there are other people in this house. “What is it that you do?”

“Oh,” she sighs, her mouth suddenly dry. She’s not conceited, she doesn’t think, but it’s been awhile since she met someone who wasn’t in her circle and didn’t know about her job. “I’m a reporter for the Yankees. Emma Swan. It’s nice to meet you – ”

“Jasmine Anwar. I teach with Mary Margaret.”

“She’s my teacher,” Leo adds in, running back in the room with a shield that’s nearly bigger than his body. “But I get to call her Miss Jasmine when she’s here, which is super cool because my friends don’t get to do that.”

“That’s our secret, though, Leo.”

“I know, I know. Emma, look at my shield.”

“Leo, it’s time to eat,” Mary Margaret says. “You can show off your shield afterwards, okay?”

“I thought we were eating cake afterwards.”

“We are.”

“So, when can I show off my shield?”

“After the cake, Leo,” David sighs before clapping his hands together. “Let’s eat.”

Inside the bowl was, indeed, Mary Margaret’s pasta salad, and in the oven was a tray of baked chicken, rolls, and macaroni and cheese. It’s the kind of meal that Ruth would make on the weekend or whenever David came home for a holiday, and for someone who eats cereal and Chinese takeout when Graham doesn’t feel like cooking, this is absolutely the best case scenario for her.

Thank goodness for David turning forty and Mary Margaret deciding to keep it low key with just a few friends instead of everyone from both of their offices.

(His thirtieth birthday was insane, especially when she thinks about the fact that Mary Margaret planned it while seven months pregnant.)

Most of the conversation halts with everyone eating, just a few murmurs here and there, but then Ruby gets a glass of wine in here – possibly two – and while Ruby can deal with liquor no problem, red wine gets to her. It’s the strangest thing, but Ruby’s already loose filter becomes, well, looser.

“No, do you guys remember the time,” Ruby hiccups, sipping on her drink while Emma very gracefully shovels more macaroni and cheese into her mouth, “that we were out in LA for work, and David nearly got arrested for walking out of a Walmart with a boxed fan because he threw away the receipt at self-checkout and they checked him at the door?”

“This is not that great of a story, Ruby,” David huffs, crossing his arms over his chest and tipping his beer bottle up to his lips.

“But it is,” Graham protests. “It was a twenty-dollar fan, man. All you had to do was pay for it again, but instead you were one more protest away from getting taken off to jail.”

“I paid for the damn fan. It was on the security video.”

“Yeah,” Emma sighs as she slides her plate onto the coffee table, “but we only know that because you literally demanded to speak to the manager, had to sweet talk your way into the security office, and we spent three hours inside that building all because you can’t sleep without a fan in the room.”

“To be fair, you and I did have a great time while we were waiting. We bought that purple hair dye and streaked your hair.”

“Which was really dumb because I had to be on camera the next day.”

“It washed out.”

“Really? Because I swear I still have purple in my hair if it’s in the right light.”

She tugs at strands of her hair to prove a point while laughter bubbles in her stomach. God, she loves her friends. They’re the actual best. She doesn’t know how she got lucky enough to have them in her life.

“Your purple streaks are probably what made Jones ask you out. He saw that you had a wild side and couldn’t pass that opportunity up.”

She takes that thing about loving her friends back.

She groans, sinking down further into the couch and wishing that she had Leo’s Captain America shield to hide her face so that no one can see the blush that’s rising from her cheeks. Today is apparently a day to bring this up once every hour. It might as well go on her grave stone at this point.

Okay, that’s a little dramatic.

It can at least go in her obituary.

That doesn’t make it any better.

“Emma, can you get me Killian Jones’s autograph?” Leo questions, looking up at her from where he’s very enthusiastically scarfing down another plate of macaroni. He’s not going to have any room for cake at this rate.

“I’m not sure if I can, kid.”

“But you know him! He asked you on a date!”

She’s going to dye all of her hair purple, change her name, and move countries. That’s even more dramatic, but she seems to be on a role with being dramatic tonight.

Italy would be nice. There’s lots of pasta there.

“I’ll ask, kid.”

“I want it on a hat.”

“Leo,” Mary Margaret scolds, “use your manners.”

“I want it on a hat please,” he corrects before shoveling more food in his mouth. “Can we have cake now?”

#catch me if you can #cs fic #cs ff #Captain Swan #captain swan fic

76 notes · View notes

hellzyeahthewebwieldingavenger · 5 years ago

Text

Spider-Man v3 2099 #23-25 Thoughts

Some mixed feelings.

There was a lot of stuff I liked, and a fair amount I was disappointed by.

There was some art and dialogue production issues, which I think might’ve occurred because the series was wrapping up and whoever was in charge didn’t catch as they were prepping for whatever the next project was.

But more significantly, I honestly felt that there were several unanswered questions:

· What was the big bad thing Miguel and Liz did that was talked about back in volume 2 #1?

· What actually caused the Maestro’s version of 2099 to happen?

· What caused that future to alter into the Sinister Six’s future?

· What was up with those purple Mohawk mutant people from volume 3 #1 who obviously had something to do with Tempest but it’s never explained

· How was Tempest’s mother involved with the Fist

· Shit there wasn’t any resolution for Tempest’s mother at all was there!

· What exactly did Tyler Stone plan to use Tempest for? Was he really just tempting her to take his treatment so she’d stab Miguel on sight?

· Why should Sonny Frisco be left in the present day? He’s from the future and has some future tech leftover from his Iron Man armour

· What happened to the Sinister Six 2099? Electro is presumably shut down for good but what happened to Venom, Vulture, Doc Ock and Sandwoman? Yeah presumably they’re all going to team up in 2019, but Sandwoman was nowhere to be found and IIRC she wasn’t dead. Moreover they were still around in 2019 under the employ of the Fist.

· How did Tyler Stone travel to the past?

· How did Tyler Stone join up with the Fist?

· How did Tyler Stone rise to what seemed like the leadership of the Fist

· What happened to Venture and Glorianna?

· What happened with Miguel’s fellow time traveller who created the new version of X-Factor? Was that really just very loose and light set up for Secret Wars 2099?

· The payoff for the Alchemax prison facility which was then turned into a terrorist internment facility was...just the place for the final showdown to occur? Really?

Why DID the cure for Tempest’s cancer turn her into an insect monster back in Vol. 2?

Also, not really an unanswered question but the emotional investment into Miguel and Tempest’s relationship is still rather hollow as I talked about back in issue #20. It just kind of feels significant because Tempest has been around since waaaaay back in the backup story from ASM volume 3 #1. Not to mention Miguel’s survival is definitely a dues ex machina.

The harsh truth is the more I think about the resolution of this the more I come to the sad realizing it at best left an awful lot to be desired.

Objectively it’s very problem riddled.

Now that being said...on a pure enjoyment level I did LIKE it.

I don’t think I ever expressed this before, but the reason I started calling posts like this ‘Thoughts’ rather than ‘Review(s)’ like I used to is because, whilst I firmly believe a story can be objectively evaluated, I found it stressful and well...not fun doing it.

Plus I do this blog for me and realized posts like this one are more for me, so I have a record of my thoughts and feelings for these stories.

I’m not saying me liking something or disliking it makes it good or bad objectively. But what I am saying is...well I enjoyed this.

I was disheartened by the lack of pay off to a lot of stuff, but I did enjoy the ride while I was on it.

Let me talk about a few minor things that annoyed me before I end more positively.

So a Pokemon Go parody is intrinsic to the battle to save the future. I dunno, that just feels both on the nose and unearned since Pokemon Go! wasn’t even a thing when this series began. Also Tyler Stone’s motivations were rather underwhelming and Miguel didn’t get enough of a showdown with him. Granted, I guess you could argue said showdown already happened in Secret Wars 2099. He same applies to the Sinister Six 2099, especially Venom given that he is Miguel’s brother from another mother. Furthermore the explanation for who Aisa is, was a tad underwhelming but not illogical as I’ll address later.

Now for positives.

For starters it’s funny that whilst this issue came out in like September 2017, it’s depiction of 2019 wasn’t that far off. The only things it a little wrong was that people aren’t as much into Pokemon Go! as they were in 2017 and Silk to my knowledge doesn’t operate in New York city anymore. But all of those are easily No. Prized so in theory this comic’s depiction of 2019 is actually canon. I think it basically HAS to be or else the Fist’s plan could still happen and Miguel would’ve prevented nothing. Although the Marvel.wiki says otherwise. But they aren’t always right.

My biggest point of praise is in regarding Gabri.

Maybe I was being dense, but I honestly didn’t figure out who he was until he stabbed Tyler Stone with a stinger like Tempest’s.

See, when these issues were coming out I obviously saw the covers of Miguel in his new suit alongside another Spider-Man 2099, one wearing the original red and blue 2099 costume. But I wasn’t paying enough attention to notice the red and blue costume was similar, yet clearly different to the original. I was thinking that it was simply Miguel from another universe, another timeline or another point in time, possibly playing off of the Edge of Spider-Verse issue with the alternate Miguels back in volume 2 issue #5.

But no...this is the son of Miguel O’Hara, the Spider-Man of...well we don’t actually know what year he is from. He’s a time traveller and whilst he’s partnered up with his mother in 2019, he looks to be about Miguel’s age. Giving him a suit similar yet unique to his father’s, with his ‘cape’ evoking his mother’s wings and such was a nice touch. I think PAD in making him a time traveller adds just enough credibility to his powers too as some kind of future technology. I doubt we’ll see much more of this character, but damn I’d like to, even out of his outfit he seems pretty cool.

And if nothing else, I just like that Miguel has a legacy and got to KNOW that.

Another thing I really liked about the structure of the story essentially allowed for there to be two climaxes, one in the future of 2019 where Aisa was the final boss and one in the present of 2017 where Miguel got to settle his business.

Let’s talk briefly about Aisa. So she’s literally one of the Greek Fates. I found this underwhelming, but I can’t say it wasn’t a logical reveal. In fact it justifies the Medea story arc with Elektra as that in hindsight was putting Greek myth on the chessboard for PAD to use later.

In fact these last three issues can be looked at as PAD essentially treating elements across his 2010s Spidey 2099 run (or at least the issues that weren’t mandated events) as chess pieces that came into play here.

· Back in volume 3 issue #1, Miguel referenced Peter, Silk and Miles being around to pick up his slack. Those 3 saved the civilians under mind control.

· The Sinister Six and Tyler Stone obviously all showed up in the Sinister Six arc beginning in issue #10, and in particular Tyler was popping up sporadically since the Secret Wars mini

· Strange 2099 with the help of Cap 2099 ultimately save Miguel’s life and they were showing up before and during Secret Wars

· Tempest’s insect form was introduced back in v2 #11-12 and was critical to the climax of this story. In fact I love the poetry of Miguel and his father Tyler both dying via stingers, stingers passed down from mother to son no less

· Sonny obviously was showing up on and off since Secret Wars

· The Alchemax Prison is something that’s been lingering (and unfortunately was often ignored) since way back in v2 #5

· I already explained the Greek myth angle

· Man Mountain Marko has been building a grudge with Spidey since before issue v3 #10

In a sense it was rewarding seeing all this stuff come back into play for the climax, but it definitely could’ve been done better, in a more satisfying way. Frankly, if the Medea story had been cut to 2 issues tops we might’ve had an extra issue to fix some of this stuff.

The final thing I want to talk about is issue #25 specifically. I don’t know if this was intentional, but to me issue #25 read as PAD delivering a microcosm of Miguel.

In various scenes, organically strung together, we see different facets of his personality. The dives are not necessarily deep, but this one issue, for any faults you might find in it’s plot, speaks a lot to who Miguel O’Hara is as a person.

It’s light, it’s subtle but it tells you the cliffnotes.

He’s sarcastic.

He’s sardonic.

He’s not a murderer, but is willing to be violent, willing to kill.

He is on the side of the angels, but is absolutely not one of them.

He values family but they frustrate him.

He’s far from wholesome.

He’s willing to make the sacrifice play for what’s right, for what has to be done.

He faces his own destruction head on.

He has a cynical streak in him.

He’s got anger in him and acknowledges it can compromise him.

He’s smart, both in terms of scientific brilliance and tactical thinking.

Hell even the use of his powers and gadgets (we could include Lyla in that) get one last ride in this issue.

And it’s all capped off with him saving everyone at the cost of his lover, his child and his own life. Only for him to come back to the world he’s saved, his home and ring in the new yea, the new century in factr. 2099 is OVER at last!

But he doesn’t celebrate. But he also isn’t Peter Parker, so he doesn’t somberely mope. He just gets on with it acknowledging what he’s lost, what it was for and rolling his eyes at the fact that the good times aren’t going to last.

And yet...it’s not depressing.

THAT’S Miguel O’Hara to me.

Over all, this arc 100% could’ve been better. But as a fond farewell to the character, possibly even being the last time his creator will ever write him, it was a Hell of a ride.

And for that ride, I thank Peter David and Will Sliney.

#Spider-Man #Spider-Man 2099 #Miguel O'Hara #Marvel 2099 #Iron Man #Iron Man 2099 #Lyla #Honey Bee #Peter David #will sliney

14 notes · View notes