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lostgirl677 · 2 years ago

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It can be our future

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Fluff

A/N : It’s another weird 3AM idea

Masterlist

You were casually reading on Eddie’s bed while his music blasted on the whole room. The dimmed light gave you the perfect lightning that made you feel at home. His scent on the sheets made you feel safe, like all hell can break loose and still you wouldn’t risk a thing here curled up against his pillows. And of course, the most perfect guy sitting there was the cherry on the top. There he was, trying to compose his new song for the next The Corroded Coffin rehearsal on the following Sunday. The way his tongue stuck out when he tried to focus drove you insane. Needless to say that you weren’t focused on your book anymore the moment he began to scribble. You could watch him for hours when he did that, the way his eyes gleamed every time he found a new rhyme or just the small smile he had plastered on his soft face just because he did what he loved. This sight wasn’t rare though. Everytime he looked at you, the same smile was present. That smile that made you weak at the knees and even forget your own name. And his hair all tousled, more than usual… ‘Like what you see, sweetheart ?’ he said with a smirk, interrupting your train of thoughts You were at first speechless, which made his smile even bigger. ‘You know, it’s a bit rude to stare. But since I have a huge ego problem, I’ll take your silence as a confirmation and your stare as a compliment.’ he said, tilting his head.'Okay, first I wasn’t staring. You really need to get your ego in check, Munson. Secondly, you’re way too distracting for me to handle.’ he raised his eyebrows and smiled in a very goofy way, his way. ‘Really, Y/N ? We definitely don’t have the same definition of staring. One more second and you would have jumped at me. Not that I would complain, though, but I’m not an easy guy. You’d have to buy me flowers, take me to dinner, the whole package first.’ He added, a seductive expression forming on his already attractive face.You didn’t know why you were caught off guard by this, you were used to it but you couldn’t help it. And God, he would take advantage of this. ‘You’re nearly drooling on your book, Y/N/N’ He said, messing with you. ‘Shut up, Eddie !’ you said, throwing him one of his pillows. It landed on his face and he threw himself on the floor in a very Eddie way. He raised and clutched his heart.‘How dare you use a weapon in such a vicious way against your lovely boyfriend ? The same pillow we used to make our fort with, the very one we used to hide from monsters when we were five ? Don’t even try to justify yourself. Through history, many women murdered their husbands in a terrible and very personal way but I never thought that you’d ever be one of them. Did I have it coming ? Maybe. But being murdered by a pillow, really ? I always thought that I would go down swinging.’ While he said that, he closed his eyes and put his hand on his forehead. You rolled your eyes. ‘Are you done yet ?’ He opened one eye while keeping the pose. ‘Almost.’ and he closed his eye. ‘ What would have happened if I didn’t ask you for the teddy bear behind you at the kindergarten on that fateful day of 27th September 1971? What…’ ‘Eddie ! I’m sorry, okay ?’You said, laughing. He eyed you as if he didn't believe you. ‘The real question is how did I manage to never kill you ?’ ‘You would never, sweetheart. You love me way too much’ He said while kissing your forehead. ‘Who said I never tried ?’ you said, smiling devilishly.‘After this monologue, I’d have all the reasons. I’m sure the judge wouldn’t blame me.’ He looked at you in mock pain. ‘I’m sure you’re hungry, that’s why you’re so mean.Let’s have some dinner.’ He said, kissing you again and taking your hand to lead you to the kitchen.

Eddie wasn’t that good at cooking ( he failed to boil water once and your pasta was raw and really…crispy) and his uncle was really busy and never had time to cook anything. Hell, when Wayne had an off day for Christmas, they would have some KFC takeout with eggnog directly from the bottle. Eddie opened the fridge and started rummaging through it.‘So we have mac and cheese, frozen lasagnas, frozen peas and my personal favorite, canned raviolis’ he said while jiggling the can before your eyes. ‘Uh, mac and cheese please.’ ‘Your wish is my command, darling’ And with that, he prepared everything while you put the plates on the table. ‘Eddie ?’ ‘Hm ?’ ‘When was the last time you had a home cooked meal ?’ This question kind of caught him off guard, so he turned his head to look at you. ‘Honestly, dunno. When was the last dinner with your parents, again ?’ ‘4 months ?!’ ‘Yeah I know, but it's really not a big deal. Even when my parents were still around, I never had anything that wasn’t canned or from a nearby fast food. And Wayne is really tired, I rather spend the rare moments we have together then force him to cook. Plus, even canned raviolis sound like a gastronomic meal if I have to share it with you.’ He said with his stupid grin of his. You couldn’t help but melt at this. ‘Dinner is served, m’lady’

Once the dinner was served, you ate and talked about various kinds of topics and laughed a lot. Around 10PM, it was time for you to go back home. Eddie walked you to your car. ‘I already miss you.’ He said, kissing your lips.’I miss you too. But we’ll see tomorrow, Eds.’ You started the car and began to drive. ‘I love you !’ Eddie screamed from the outside, not caring about his neighbors. ‘Love you too !’. You saw that he blew you a kiss on the rear view mirror and with that you exited the trailer park. On your way home, you thought about your conversation with Eddie about his meals and you had an idea. Wayne will have a day off soon and you knew that he spent that kind of day doing groceries and domestic stuff like this and Eddie will spend that day with his group, so you’ll use your spare key to enter and cook something for them.

You thought toroughfully about your plan until Sunday finally came. You had all the ingredients and utensils you needed. You drove to his trailer. You knocked just to make sure. Not a single soul. You took your key out of your pocket and unlocked the door. You carried everything to the table. Now, all you had to do was to follow the recipes and everything would be settled for dinner. Thankfully, you knew everything about their allergies so it wouldn’t be a problem. Everything was fine. The first dish turned out pretty good, not burned or anything. You began to settle everything for the dessert. ‘So you enter by effraction, now ?’ You jumped and there was flour everywhere, on the floor and your face. Eddie was there, smirking and his hands behind his back. ‘You gave me a spare key, dummy’ You said once you regained your calm. ‘I thought you were at your rehearsal today.’ ‘Yeah, I know. Gareth is sick so we couldn’t do it today.’ He then grabbed you by the waist. ‘Now tell what you’re doing here, putting flour everywhere ?’ he asked after wiping some flour from your face, visibly amused. ‘I wanted to prepare a meal for you and your uncle but a huge dumbass bolted on the trailer and caused this mess’ You said, smirking.’This scoundrel should be punished for this forfait.’ He said with a serious expression, then a smile on his face. His eyes shined with playfulness. ‘I’ll make sure of that. We need to make an example of it’ You replied, smirking. Eddie smiled widely. ‘Does this punishment require handcuffs ?’ he asked, wiggling his eyebrows. ‘You perv…Maybe ?’ You added. ‘Sometimes you really drive me crazy, Munson’.He faked an hurt expression ‘But you love me.’ ‘I know, sad but true, goofball.’ You said, kissing him on the cheek. ‘Now, will you help me clean this mess or maybe you think I’m really sexy with flour everywhere on me ?’ he seemed to think about it. ‘Even though I think I’ll throw flour more often on you if that means “special treatment” afterwards, I think I’ll help you right now’ He said, winking. You rolled your eyes but laughed anyway. ‘Good call, Eds. But I swear that if you throw flour on me I’ll…’ He didn’t let you finish your sentence by kissing you. He ended up with flour on his face too. And you began to clean everything.

You taught him how to bake. He was surprisingly good at it. ‘I swear I’ll make you cookies the next time, sweetheart. I can even try to sell space pastries to my customers, what do you think ?’ You looked at him. He was really enjoying himself, he seemed so happy, so pure. He looked like a kitten before a huge ball of yarn, ready to play and try everything. He tried to make music with every single ustensil available and began to sing silly songs. He danced around the kitchen, taking your hand and making you twirl around, throwing dough everywhere.’ It can be our future, Y/N.’ He murmured in your ear. Needless to say that you blushed heavily at that. He enjoyed himself so much that this dingus forgot to put on a glove to take the cake out of the oven. He barely touched it. ‘Jesus H Christ ! Shit’ He said while holding his right hand. ‘Eddie !’ You screamed, leaving your preparation to check on him. You carefully took his hand in yours and saw that it wasn’t serious. You stopped the oven and took care of his hand. ‘I could have ended up like Fred Kruger !’ ‘Don’t you think you are a bit overreacting, dearie ?’ He looked at you, deadpanned. ‘Okay, maybe a bit. But could you at least kiss it better instead of mocking your injured boyfriend please ?’ He really used his big brown eyes as a weapon against you, it was unfair. ‘Okay’ you said. You kissed his hand and you got back to work.

By the end of the day, all the dishes were ready and both Eddie and you were showered (separately, much to his dismay). You put the table while Eddie made sure that everything was settled. You both fell on the couch, exhausted and waited for his uncle to come back. Eddie fell asleep on you when you heard keys jingling on the door .Eddie jumped awake and greeted his uncle. ‘Hey uncle Wayne !’ ‘Hey Mr Munson’ you said. ‘Hey kids ! Y/N, I already told you you can call me Wayne.’ He said smiling. He was like a second father to you. You smiled too.‘You’ll never guess what happened today.’’ said Eddie.’Since the trailer is still in one piece, nothing wrong… I hope’ He said, joking. ‘Y/N broke in…’ You elbowed him. ‘Ouch ! Y/N came here and prepared us a home cooked meal’ Eddie said, eyeing you. ‘Eddie helped me a bit, especially with the flour’ you looked at him, knowingly. He blew you a raspberry. ‘Really ? And the trailer is still here ? Thank you Y/N’ ‘Okay, enough talking, more eating’ interjected Eddie. He brought you a third chair and you shared the whole meal. The dinner was lovely. You laughed, got compliments and shared stories. When the dessert arrived, you praised Eddie for his new skill. ‘Nearly burned myself but it was worthed it’ and with that, Eddie told Wayne in a (very) exaggerated way how he almost lost his hand to this damned oven. He earned a good laugh from the whole table.

Once the dinner was over, you went outside on the porch to take a look at the night sky. It was a bit chilly but damn, it was beautiful. It became even more gorgeous when Eddie joined you. ‘See’ he said, earning your attention.’ That's how I imagine our life.Messing around in the kitchen, laughing, dancing, having the time of our life. I want to go all wrinkly and toothless with you’ You laughed and blushed as hard as him. The last part was weirdly romantic. ‘I want it to be our future as well, Eddie. I love you, Munson’. He leaned against you. ‘I love you too, Y/N’ You hugged under the twinkling stars and got back inside to prepare a hot chocolate in one of the mugs on the wall.

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pedrito-friskito · 3 years ago

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sunshine on a cloudy day - chapter two

summary: your friendship with frankie moves into new territory, and christmas with the boys turns out to be more than you bargained for…

warnings: no explicit depictions of drug use, but allusions to, heed the warnings from chapter one pls and thanks

a/n: that’s a shit summary but whatever read: general pining, cute friendship descriptions, and frankie being the sweetest of sweet peas. one thing to note - I put on the first chapter that this takes place at the beginning of the movie, I would say it’s actually at least a year-year and a half before!!

(series masterlist) (main masterlist) (ao3)

Next Friday turns into every Friday quickly, and soon enough, the entirety of your weekends are spent with Benny, Will, and Frankie, or a combination — sometimes including Will’s girlfriend Emily, or any one of the many girls that Benny finds to hold his interest for a week or two. Frankie is perpetually single, compared to the Miller brothers, though there’s a girl he brings around one night, but you never see her again after, and when someone asks, he just brushes it off with a nonchalant, “It wasn’t gonna work.”

You and Frankie get along like a house on fire, sticking to each other’s sides when the brothers have girls around. He’s easy to tease, but gives as well as he takes, and the two of you have an easy rapport, always skirting around the subject of his past and yours, the war, the military, and all things bullshit, as Frankie calls it.

You only talk about you turning him down once, and he’s understanding, glad for your friendship, and insists you don’t need to keep apologizing, even though you feel like you should. You’re glad for his friendship too, and learning a bit more about him has been great.

He’s older than you, eight years between you and him, but it’s hard to tell. You have similar taste in movies and music, and are always sending each other recommendations through the week, even when you’re not together. He was a pilot in the army, ran transport for the Spec Ops team on every mission, and according to Benny, got them out of some tight situations more than once.

You discover the Catfish callsign was bestowed to him after their first op, when he drove a propeller boat through a marsh to get them all the hell out of dodge. The speed had disturbed the water so much that the catfish in the marsh followed them to the shore, and one had actually crawled onto land and chased Frankie until he punted it back into the water.

It’s an easy friendship, one built cracking jokes between hockey periods and playing drinking games at Benny’s. Frankie gives you rides home when you drink too much, always watches from his truck to make sure you get inside safely, and lets you drag him to the movies Ben and Will don’t want to see.

It goes without saying, and you don’t bring it up, but you notice the change in him, even from the night you met at Benny’s fight to the first Friday you spent with them all. He’s less jittery, his attention more and more focused each time you see him, and you haven’t seen him so much as touch his nose since the fight (with the exception of the time Benny brought over a girl one night that carried a tiny dog in a purse and Frankie discovered an allergy — you’d spent the night giving him Benadryl and wads of tissues).

You’re still wrangling with your own past, but coupled with the change you’ve seen and your friendship, your attraction to Frankie only grows. It’s hard; he’s handsome, kind, he makes you laugh and god, there’s something about that gravelly voice that drives you wild. Benny does his best to pull a confession out of you, but you’re adamant on stuffing the feelings down. Classic coping mechanisms, right?

When he finds the butterfly tattoo on the back of your neck, he gives you hell for it, but starts calling you mija and mariposa after that, and you have to hide your blush every time he says it.

Summer turns into fall, fall turns into winter, and you all spend Christmas together. You visit Mama on Christmas Eve, spend the night like you have every year since you moved out, but the evening finds you at Benny’s townhouse, Frankie, Will, and Emily also in attendance.

You meet another member of the Spec Ops team, Tom “Redfly” Davis, and his wife Molly, and, a special surprise for all the guys, the final member of the squad, Santiago “Pope” Garcia even makes an appearance, having flown in on the red-eye from Brazil just to spend Christmas with his guys.

Redfly is all business, rough around the edges but quietly soft, and Pope is an even bigger flirt than Benny, if that’s possible, instantly calling you beautiful and questioning where the Millers have been hiding you all this time.

“That’s what I said, man,” Frankie chimes in, and gives you a little wink when you look over at him.

It’s a night of drinking and playing cards, the guys all gathering around the dining table to share war stories and recount their missions together. You find a way to slip away at that point, finding Molly and Emily in the kitchen talking wedding planning; Will had proposed on Christmas Eve.

It doesn’t upset you so much as highlight your romantic loneliness a bit too harshly. You snag a beer and slip out the patio door, seemingly unnoticed by the raucous men at the table.

There’s a balcony out the patio; Ben’s got one of those porch swings with an awning, and there’s a beer fridge to boot. You perch on the swing, tucking your legs up under you and pushing off the ground, swaying slowly.

It’s your first Christmas without your brother. The morning had been hell with just you and Mama in that big house, and there’d been tears over breakfast. You’d contemplated cancelling on the boys, but Mama had all but pushed you out the door, insisting she was fine, that she’d spend the rest of the day with her friends from church, and that would get her by.

You’re wrapped in your own head, too busy replaying everything that’s happened in the past year to notice the patio door slide open again, and Frankie sticks his head out, a small smile tugging at his mouth. “There you are, mija,” he says quietly. “Was wondering where you got to.”

You return the smile, blinking hard, hoping he can’t see the tears that had started to gather at your eyes. “Just needed some air.”

“Mind if I join you?”

You nod, watching as he steps onto the patio, pulling a beer out of the fridge and then settling onto the swing beside you, leaving a foot of space between you. You both sip your beers quietly, the gentle sway lulling you a little. Frankie puts his arm across the back of the swing after a moment, and taps your shoulder gently. You lift your head, turning to look at him, and he juts his chin to the space between you.

There’s a small box sitting on the cushion, wrapped in red paper with tiny ornaments on it and a silver bow on top. Your jaw drops, protests instantly crawling out of you mouth. “Frankie,” you start, sitting up more and setting your beer down on the ground, “we all agreed, no gifts. I didn’t get you anything.”

There had been a brief discussion of Secret Santa, but it was quickly squashed after you all admitted you’d just buy a case of beer no matter who you got. When Will announced his plans to propose to Emily, you decided on no gifts period, since his wallet would be taking a hit more than most. So you’d all brought a case of beer for the night and that was that.

“I know,” Frankie mutters, adjusting his hat. His pouty lips curl up in a smile and he nudges the box towards you. “But when I saw it, I thought of you, and I just had to. Open it.”

You make a noise of protest, but Frankie waves you off, picking up the small box and placing it in your hands.

“Open it, mariposa,” he says quietly. “Please.”

“Okay, okay,” you murmur, and tear into the paper, revealing a small black box beneath, the kind that jewellery usually comes in. Your heart is already stuttering in your chest from the fact that he’s given you a gift, and that it’s a little black box, but when you open it, your heart all but crawls into your throat, and all you can manage is a breathy, “Oh.”

A silver signet ring sits inside, the flat face of it about the size of your thumbnail. Etched onto it’s surface is a butterfly, it’s wings spread wide, and there are patterns of suns and stars on it’s wings, intricately dug into the metal. It’s pretty and it’s sweet and you recognize the meaning immediately, your two nicknames the boys have for you. (Ben and Will had picked up on mariposa, although it was Frankie who used it the most.)

“It’s your callsigns,” he grins, watching you pull the ring from the box and slip it immediately onto your right index finger. It’s a perfect fit, and you swipe your thumb over the etched surface over and over, inspecting every detail and feeling tears crawl up the back of your throat. Happy ones, this time.

“Fish, I love it,” you say, leaning across the swing to hug him tightly, throwing your arms around his neck. He jumps a little at the affection, but returns the embrace, one hand settling against your back, the other still holding his beer. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, mija,” he whispers, and kisses your temple as you pull back, the soft brush of his lips sending a shock through you. You settle back on the swing, the space between you two a little smaller now. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Frankie.”

“Oh,” he says suddenly, and lifts himself off the swing to pull something from his pocket, sitting back down and holding his closed fist towards you. “There’s something else, too.”

“Frankie.”

“You can’t keep it,” he continues, and unfurls his fingers, “but I wanted to show you.”

Inside his palm, sits a small, dark blue, plastic coin. On one side are the letters NA printed in white, a thin circle around them, and you watch him flip it over in his palm, the other side reading 6 months, clean & serene.

Your jaw drops again. “Six months?”

He nods, a proud smirk on his face. “As of yesterday. I’ve been going twice a week since we met, quit cold turkey and haven’t touched it since.”

“I’m proud of you,” you tell him, smiling as he drops the coin into your open palm. It’s warm, and already a little worn in the middle, like he’d been fiddling with it. “Wait, since we met?”

“Yeah, after Benny’s fight. Went home, found the nearest meeting, went the next morning.” He pulls his hat off, scrubbing his hand up the back of his neck and pushing his hair around. “Figured it would improve my chances if I ever plucked up the courage to ask you out again.”

Your brows shoot up. “You…you got clean, for me?”

He laughs, tilting his head back. “Well, the doc said I needed to quit or else my heart was gonna explode, and then you showed up, with your beautiful face and those eyes and that take-no-shit attitude, and you kicked my ass into gear.”

“And if I hadn’t shown up, you’d still be using?”

The blood drains from Frankie’s face and his mouth drops open. “No, that’s not what I’m…I didn’t-don’t…Fuck. I really like you, mija, okay? You’re beautiful, and you’re sexy, and you make me feel like a normal person again. And you said it that night, you don’t fuck around with white lines. I heard you. I needed to hear it. And now, neither do I.”

He’s rambling, clearly flustered by your question, and you just sit there, his sobriety chip warm in your hand, the ring he’s gifted slightly cold against your skin. You wait for him to finish, your own words from the night of the fight repeated on his tongue. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you’re surprised he remembers exactly what you said.

Finished his speech, Frankie sinks back against the cushions, draping his arm along the back again. You scoot closer to him, putting a careful hand on his thigh before handing the chip back to him. He flips it between his fingers. “I’m proud of you,” you tell him again, your eyes on his face. You don’t miss the way his breath hitches slightly, his eyes going glassy, the sheepish grin, the way he presses the coin to his lips before dropping into the chest pocket of his flannel. “Really, Frankie, I am.”

“Thank you, mija,” he mumbles, and then he freezes when your hand squeezes his thigh lightly. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“Yes, you could have,” you counter with a sly grin, “but I’m glad to have helped anyway.”

It all seems to happen in a moment. Your hand flexes on his thigh again, he inhales deeply, and you feel his hand move from the back of the swing and settle against your spine, the warmth of his palm seeping through your shirt. You lift your head just as he leans forward slightly, and his beer is balanced on the arm of the swing, his now free hand lifting, his thumb and forefinger catching your chin as you lean up, closing the distance between you before—

The patio door slides open, revealing a stumbling version of Pope, who shouts, “Feliz Navidad!” so loud the both of you flinch apart, Frankie’s beer going flying across the patio as Pope makes a run at the two of you and throws himself onto the swing. There’s a lot of cursing and grumbling as you push Pope up and off of you both, helping his clearly intoxicated body back up to stand. He droops against you, mumbling something incoherent about butterflies in your ear, and you shoot Frankie an apologetic look as you loop your arm around Pope’s waist and lead him back towards the door.

“I need another drink, sunshine,” he slurs in your ear and you roll your eyes.

“The last thing you need is another drink, Santi,” you respond, shaking your head.

His eyes go wide. “Santi! I like that! Why don’t you fuckers ever call me Santi?” he shouts as you push him through the door, pointing an accusing finger at Benny, Will, and Tom, who are still sat around the table, now accompanied by Molly and Emily.

“You’re the idiot that picked Pope,” Benny calls, shaking his head and turning back to his phone.

You deposit Pope/Santi on the couch and he sprawls against the pillows. “Oh, yeah,” he mumbles into the fabric, “I did pick it. Cuz I’m the Pope, fuckers!”

There’s a collective groan from the table, and you turn back to see Frankie slipping back in the patio door, his now empty beer bottle in his hand, hat clutched in the other. Your stomach is still doing backflips over what just almost occurred, and he gives you a tiny grin before announcing he’s heading out for the night. “Sunshine,” he says to you, “you need a ride home?”

You nod, probably a bit too enthusiastically. “Yeah, that would be great. Benny picked me up from my mom’s. I was just gonna crash on the couch,” you lean around him to see Pope now drooling on the pillows, completely comatose, “but I guess that’s not happening.”

“What?” Benny protests, putting his phone down. “No! Stay, it’s only like two in the morning, c’mon!”

“Nah, I’m wiped, Benny,” you say, shaking your head. “Been a long day.” You walk over to the table, give Ben a peck on the cheek in farewell, and say your goodbyes to the rest. “It was nice to meet you, Tom. You too, Molly.”

They both return the sentiment, Frankie says his goodbyes, and you walk together to the door, awkwardly sifting through the pile of shoes for his boots and your sneakers. When you admit to having forgotten a jacket, Frankie immediately pulls his off the hook and drapes it around your shoulders. “It’s cold out there,” he grumbles, and reaches for the doorknob.

“Fish, it’s Florida,” you laugh, and he just shrugs — so? — before shuffling you out the door and pulling it shut behind him.

It’s a quick walk across the complex to the visitor’s parking, and you pick out Frankie’s grey monster of a truck easily. The dark sky hides your blush when he opens the passenger door for you, makes sure you’re completely inside before shutting the door.

It’s a quick and silent drive from Benny’s place to yours, the little beachfront shack you’ve been renting ever since you moved out of your childhood home, and you spend most of it admiring your ring, running your finger across it’s face over and over again.

Frankie gets out first when he parks in front of your house, rounding the truck quickly and opening the door for you again. He does it all the time — anytime you’ve been in a car with him, he’s always opening the door for you and helping you out — but after the almost on the patio, it feels like something else. He offers you a hand to help you down from the truck, but he doesn’t let go once your feet are on the ground, instead threading his fingers through yours, reaching behind him to close the door before starting to walk with you up to the front door.

You don’t go for your keys immediately, instead lifting the hand not in his, the one now sporting your ring. “Thank you again, Fish, for the ring. I love it.”

“You’re welcome, mija,” he replies, a shy grin on his mouth. “Listen, about before, on the patio, I��I mean, leave it to fucking Pope to interrupt right then, but I wanted to—”

He doesn’t get the rest of the sentence out; you won’t let him. You curl your hand in the front of his flannel and pull him towards you, your mouth meeting his in a sweet kiss that tastes like beer and the chocolate chip cookies you’d brought to Ben’s. There’s something beneath it though, something warm and musky and manly that you know is just the taste of Frankie invading your senses.

It makes you gasp quietly when he lets go of your hand and puts his arms around you, one hand snaking up to the back of your head, the other resting flat against your spine. You drape your own arms around his neck, leaning into him as much as you can, kissing him with all you’ve got, chasing every little noise he makes when the kiss deepens.

It’s teeth and it’s tongue and in all fucking honesty, it’s everything you’ve been dreaming about since the day you laid eyes on Frankie Morales. He tastes like heaven, his mouth is warm and soft against yours, and when you brush your tongue along his bottom lip, he lets out a moan that rumbles through you.

“Wait, wait, wait,” he murmurs against your mouth after a minute, both of you coming up for air. His forehead is pressed against yours, eyes squeezed shut, and he steals another quick kiss before pulling away completely, reaching for your wrists, dragging his mouth over your pulse before taking a step back and holding you at arm’s length, your hands in his. “I wanna do this right.”

“Right?” you repeat, stifling a giggle at his flushed cheeks, kiss-swollen lips, and the one wayward curl that’s now sticking up over his forehead.

He nods. “Right. I wanna take you to dinner, mariposa. Bring you flowers and pick you up, you know, all that romantic shit.”

You bark a laugh. “Romantic shit.” You reach up, cupping his face with one hand, swiping your thumb over his bottom lip. He chases it, kissing the pad of your thumb and holding your hand to his face. “We can do that.”

“Tomorrow?” he asks, hopeful. “We could go to the marina, have dinner, walk the beach?”

You bite your bottom lip, restraining yourself from kissing him again. “Pick me up at eight?”

He surges forward so fast you yelp, your lips finding his once more, shivers snaking down your spine until he pulls away, whispers goodnight, and sprints back to his truck. He waits for you to get inside before pulling away, and you lean back against the door, a giddy giggle escaping your mouth.

#my fics #frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie “catfish” morales #triple frontier #triple frontier fic #catfish morales x reader #frankie morales smut #sunshine on a cloudy day

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talldecafcappuccino · 3 years ago

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Here, have a Rebecca driving Ted on Christmas ficlet. Merry Christmas ya filthy animals! Ted shut the passenger side door and Rebecca was suddenly very aware there was a man in her car. It had been a while--a long while. It was different from driving Nora or even Keeley. Ted took up physical space in a way she wasn’t used to, he was taller than she sometimes remembered, shoulders broad, and when he bent to click his belt she caught a whiff of cologne--warm and woodsy.

It was strange, but not in a bad way. It was notable. That was all.

“Wow.” He looked into the back of the car, eyebrows raised. “Is this Santa’s sleigh?”

“Something like that,” she replied.

She turned her car keys, the engine roaring to life. Not wanting to ruin the day’s surprise, she quickly changed the subject. “So Henry liked his Christmas gift?”

“Gosh, yeah. Got him a drone. One of those ‘must have’ items on all the lists,” Ted paused, his eyes thoughtful and a little sad. “To be honest I didn’t know what to get him this year. It was easier when he liked legos and trucks. Now it’s all Minecraft youtubers and Fortnite. I don’t understand half of it except there’s these dances Henry has me learning.”

“Oh I know how that goes.” Rebecca nodded, checking her mirrors for traffic. “I bought Nora a birthday gift for the first time in six years and it was a disaster. Turns out she’s not a little girl anymore.”

“Why, what did ya get her? A pony?” He chuckled, but she just stared ahead, clearing her throat slightly as she pulled away from the curb. “You didn’t?”

“Yes, yes I did.”

“Oh boy.” She could hear the smile in his voice. At least her godparenting mishap wasn’t a total waste.

“I know, I know. But Olivia Ride-rigo is living her best life at a children’s camp in Kent and Nora got a new phone instead. So it’s fine.” She put her hand up to stop Ted. “ And before you start, I did not pick the name, Nora did.”

“Oh it’s a great name. No notes from me. I was just going to ask if Horson Welles and Al Capony were being hospitable.”

She shook her head, reaching for the radio, “Okay, no more horse talk.”

Ted waved his hands in mock-surrender. “Of course, I’m just happy to be here. I never want to look a gift horse in the mouth.”

She rolled her eyes and pressed play with one long, manicured finger. Christms music was just what she needed to get Ted into the holiday spirit. But when Bing Crosby’s voice filled the car, it was slow and melancholy.

Christmas eve will find me, where the love light gleams, I'll be home for Christmas, If only in my dreams . . .

Oh no. That wouldn’t do. She’d just rescued him from thoughts of home back in Kansas. There had to be something on one of the other stations. She clicked to the next station and Elvis Presley’s lazy drawl filled the car.

You'll be doing all right, with your Christmas of white, But I'll have a blue, blue, blue, blue Christmas

Well that was worse. Whoever was in charge of the Christmas Day music rotation was having a very bad day. She stopped at the light and jabbed the button one more time. The song that came through seemed upbeat enough, but the lyrics . . .

They're singing "Deck The Halls,” but it's not like Christmas at all, 'Cause I remember when you were here, and all the fun we had last year

“Bloody hell,” she muttered, reaching to turn the whole thing off. But before she could, Ted’s hand was on hers.

“No, leave it. I like this song.”

She tore her eyes from the car stopped ahead of her and saw he was smiling, small but genuine. His hand pressed against hers, a sudden tingle lighting up across her hand, like closing an electric circuit. But Ted didn’t react, just started singing along quietly.

(Christmas) pretty lights on the tree

(Christmas) I'm watching them shine

(Christmas) you should be here with me

(Christmas) baby, please come home

She nodded, gathering her thoughts. “Me too. It’s . . . nice.”

Ted's smile grew, eyes crinkling a bit at the corners. Finally, he took his hand back and turned to look out the passenger window, humming quietly.

She looked back at the road just as the light changed, the song playing still as she tried to wrap her head around whatever just happened.

It was strange, but not in a bad way. It was notable. That was all.

#ted x rebecca #ted lasso #ted lasso fic #ficlet #merry christmas everyone

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nicolepellegrino17 · 3 years ago

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Mini Research Paper

Nicole Pellegrino

Professor Nichole Frocheur

Mini-Research Paper

November 15th, 2021

Photo Ttiles in picture order:

David LaChapelle

Travis Scott, AstroWorld, 2016

David LaChapelle

Cher, 1996

Staley-Wise Gallery

David LaChapelle

Amanda as Andy Warhol’s Marilyn in Blue, 2007, 2003

Staley-Wise Gallery

David LaChapelle

Eminem: About to Blow, 1999

Staley-Wise Gallery

David LaChapelle

Kardashian/Jenner, Carnival Crazy, 2013

David LaChapelle is an American photographer, music video director, and film director. LaChapelle’s style would be considered as surrealism, sexuality, uniqueness, and humor. To pursue his artistic career, David studied at the North Carolina School of Arts and then at New York’s School of Visual Arts. LaChapelle’s work that was in galleries around New York City caught the eye of Andy Warhol. Warhol offered a job to LaChapelle in the Interview magazine. From getting this job offer, David didn’t know that this was when his life was going to change.

LaChapelle made about forty-one photo-books, which were called that held photographs of famous people such as Whitney Houston, Bundchen, Marilyn Manson, Shakira, David Bowie, Naomi Campbell, Björk, Shirley Manson, Lil’ Kim, David Beckham, Uma Thurman, Cameron Diaz, Britney Spears, Lance Armstrong, Pamela Anderson, Leonardo DiCaprio, Cher, Christina Aguilera, Pink, Madonna, Lady Gaga, Katy Perry, Paris Hilton, Minogue, Amanda Lepore, Hugh Hefner, Jim Kardashian, and Brooke Shields. Each book has its own uniqueness to it. Even though David takes photos to fit a certain theme of his new book, he doesn’t make his photos look the same, if anything, every photo he takes tells its own story. One of David LaChapelle famous photographs was the famous advertisement of sailors kissing for Diesel in 1995. This ad created many controversies and the U.S. Government barred gays, lesbians, and bisexuals from entering into the military service. (famousphotographers)

David LaChapelle has won many awards for his work. He won the Best New Photographer of the Year award by American and French Photo magazines, 1995; the VH-1 presented him Photographer of the Year Award, 1996; Best Style Photography for photography in magazine at the Alfred Eisenstaedt Awards of Life magazine, 1998; and many other awards not just for photography but for direction as well.

Over the past three decades, LaChapelle photographed many musicians. The first photo I am observing is the 2016 cover of Travis Scott’s double platinum album, Astroworld. David’s idea was to design and photograph a carnival; themed album cover, an homage to the now-shuttered amusement park in Houston, Texas, and conceived of the large scale inflate golden sculpture representing Travis Scott’s head. The two album covers is a nostalgic visual take on what Scott envisioned Astroworld to be an auditory roller coaster experience of his music. The result is a visual continuation of a metaphor that’s woven throughout the project, adding depth, duality, and perception to what Astroworld is all about. (cxainc) The first image depicts a bright advertisement-style picture, featuring children and families entering a theme park. The second, which embodies a darker, after-hours tone, features burning cars, burlesque dancers, and a slight nod to his debut studio album Rodeo as per the figurine.

In 2013, David was asked by a famous family to take their yearly Christmas card. The Kardashian/Jenner family production’s paid LaChapelle up to $250,000.00 to capture their family photo. According LaChapelle agreed to this photograph last minute and had to come up with an idea. The family changed up their Christmas card style by posing on a futuristic, carnival-like set for a panoramic shot.

To compare the photos, the Astroworld album cover, and the Kardashian/Jenner Christmas card are both very dramatic photos. Both have a lot going on. When looking at the photos, you don’t know where to start looking first. In the first Astroworld photo and the Kardashian Christmas card, there is common colors used, such as golds and purples. When looking closely, both photos consist of nudity. In the Astroworld picture (on the left), there is nude women showing off their behinds. In the Kardashians Christmas card, on the left side there is nude parts of mannequins. Both photos have a common gold item as well. In the Astroworld photo, the gold attraction is the inflatable head and in the Kardashian Christmas car, there is a big golden dollar sign. Another aspect they have in common is both are carnival like photos.

There are many differences between both photos. In Astroworld, the picture on the left side is to seem to be what the carnival looks like at night, as if it went to the dark side and it not as much a kid friendly carnival. But then looking at the photo on the right, you have kids jumping with their popcorn in their hand looking like they’re having the time of their life. The different n the Kardashian/Jenner Christmas card is it seems to be more of a casino/carnival idea. The women are dressed up in their gowns surrounded by money and it gives off more of a classic vibe.

I never heard of David LaChapelle before doing this project, but I’m glad he came up when I was doing my research. His work is very interesting and caught my eye. What I like about Travis Scott’s album cover is that it makes you want to go to the carnival. I like the album cover that has the kids in it more then the one on the left side because the one on the left is giving off a creepy vibe, meanwhile the one with the kids in it, gives off a happy vibe.

For the Kardashian Christmas card, honestly, I don’t like it. I understand that LaChapelle’s photographs are supposed to be dramatic but knowing it was for Christmas, I feel like he could’ve come up with a better idea.

Work Cited:

David LaChapelle. Artnet.com. (n.d.). Retrieved November 15, 2021, from http://www.artnet.com/artists/david-lachapelle/4.

Home. FAMOUS PHOTOGRAPHERS. (n.d.). Retrieved November 15, 2021, from https://www.famousphotographers.net/david-lachapelle.

The edition. David LaChapelle Photographs Travis Scott's "Astroworld" Album Covers - Creative Exchange Agency. (2018, August 1). Retrieved November 15, 2021, from https://cxainc.com/edition/travis-scotts-astroworld-covers-created-by-david-lachapelle/.

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sinistergardenlegacy · 4 years ago

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The Armchair Scholar's Guide: Hallow...Christm...New Years Eve Special Episode!

The Armchair Scholar’s Guide: Hallow…Christm…New Years Eve Special Episode!

As the title suggest, this episode of the podcast was originally going to be put up around Halloween, but someone (me) didn’t finish writing it in time and then someone (also me) handed over a huge task of putting all the foley and the background music and everything to our dear friend and sound engineering wizard, Jonathan Glass, with, like, a day to spare. He wisely took his time and all the…

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#Armchair Scholar Guide #Holiday #Podcast #Sinister Garden Legacy #Youtube

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yesdreamilyenchantingbouquet · 3 years ago

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Mariah Carey, Khalid and Kirk Franklin Celebrate the Holiday Season With New Song “Fall In Love At Christmas”

Superstar, award-winning artists, Mariah Carey, Khalid and Kirk Franklin, debuted their new song, “Fall in Love at Christmas.” The all-star collaboration was released by Carey’s imprint, MARIAH, in partnership with RCA Records and RCA Inspiration.Written and produced by Carey, Franklin and Daniel Moore, II, and recorded in Atlanta and Los Angeles at Carey’s Butterfly Lounge recording studios, the…

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#Khalid #Kirk Franklin #Mariah Carey #New Christms music

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ohtheseboysilove · 5 years ago

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Winter/Christmas prompt: 36 with Joe. Fluff. I thought something like this: you're dating for a few months and this is your first christmas together and you're the one knitting for him. Thank you, dear! You're awesome! 💞

36. you knit me a sweater for christmas and i realize i am in love with you

1258 words. Cheesy fluff.

"My fingers are sore" You complained, wiggling them in Joe’s face with a pout.

"Too much knitting today ?" He asked with this adorable smile you loved so much.

"Yep, Christmas is always the busiest period with the orders" You covered your mouth to yawn politely.

You had a little knitting online shop to earn some more money aside your 9 to 5 job and you really enjoyed it. You were especially popular with dogs and babies clothes. Or fluffy socks, everyone loved some warm and comfy socks. You mostly accepted only small jobs, it was quicker and easier than jumper or vest.

"My poor little Christmas elf" Joe cooed and brought your tired fingers to his mouth, covered them in loud pecks. "You probably gonna have more order after today" He raised one of his feet, warmly resting inside a fluffy sock covered in little snowmen. Joe’s favourite creation of yours. "I showed them to everyone on set, bragging about how my beautiful girlfriend was so talented" He wiggled his brows funnily and you giggled, cheeks flushing at the compliments.

"They probably think you’re dating a grandma now" You snorted and gently cupped his face to press a little kiss on his lips. "But thank you very much, baby" You smiled wider when he rubbed his nose against yours, the cheesiness of the gesture making your heart fluttered stupidly.

"What a sexy grandma then” The American cheekily squeezed your ass, making laughed even more.

You couldn’t believe you and Joe were dating for only five little months. It felt like forever. In a good way. And when he told he wanted to spend Christmas with you and only you...it took you days to stop smiling so stupidly. You were already head over heel for the man.

You were a bit panicking. Okay, maybe more than a bit. It was the morning of Christmas and soon enough, you and Joe would exchanged present. For now he was still sleeping, snoring lightly in his bedroom. You, in the other hand, were downstairs, wrapping your present in a Christmas wrapping, wondering if it was a good idea. You weren’t the best at gift, especially for boyfriends, it was still new and you weren’t sure what you were supposed to offer him. Nothing too much or expensive but neither a cheap or lame present.

That was why you opted for an original one, made by you and your little hands. A Christmas jumper. It took you weeks of work, you rarely did such big piece of clothing and you remembered why : it was exhausting and bloody complicated. Especially after you picked a really hard pattern and motifs to knit but you loves the result. You weren’t sure if Joe would like it tough. It was funny but maybe he would find it boring or stupid. Maybe the baseball ball signed by his favourite player that you saw on amazon the other day was a better idea. You were overthinking once again.

"Hi, sweet" You quickly hid the wrapped present behind your back and smiled to a half awake Joe. "Already up ?" He put a butterfly kiss on your cheekbone and lazily made his way to the kitchen.

"Yeah, was too excited to sleep” You explained and followed him as he let out a yawn, making hot chocolate for the both of you. "Sleep well ?" You sat on the counter, watching him added tiny marshmallows inside your cups.

"Always when you’re here" He winked and you rolled your eyes at his cheesiness, secretly loving it. "Should we have breakfast then open our presents ?" He asked and you nodded eagerly, dying to see what he brought you.

You grabbed the plate of Christmas cookie you both cooked yesterday and sat on the living-room table, soft Christmas songs playing on the back. You watched fondly the snow falling quietly by the window, one of Joe’s hand resting sweetly on your knee. It was a simple but yet perfect morning for you.

"Alright, open mine first !" Joe tugged on your hand as soon as you finished your drink, quickly wiping the Chantilly cream around your mouth.

You both kneeled on the carpet right under the Christmas tree, his eyes shinning with pure childish excitement. You smiled timidly and took the present from his hands, unwrapping it carefully. There were a white envelope with two tickets for the Broadway musical The Lion King inside and another small jewellery box, inside was resting a beautiful emerald ring. Absolutely stunning.

"Oh my god, Joe !" You squealed happily, immediately sliding the ring on your finger, admiring it again and again. "It’s so beautiful ! And the lion king, I wanted to see it since forever ! Thank you so much !" You giggled and cupped his face for messy kiss, feeling incredibly lucky to have this man in your life.

"You’re very welcome, sweet" He grinned, relieved that you liked his present. "My turn now” He winked at you and grabbed your present, looking at it curiously.

You pinched your lips nervously and watched him unwrapping the present with eagerness. He took out the brown fluffy jumper and a large smile appeared on his face.

"No you didn’t !" He chuckled heartily, taking a closer look of the jumper. It was a little green dinosaur wearing a tiny Santa hat, ´Merry Christmas’ knitted under it in a bright red colour. "Sweet, I love it ! It’s so cool honestly" He let out a giggle and immediately slid it on, giving your lips a long kiss.

"You really like it ? Because I had some doubts this morning, it’s a bit lame, I mean a jumper for Christm—" He cut you with another kiss, gently stroking your face.

"Shush. It’s perfect. I really love it, I’m serious !" Joe wrapped your in a tight hug and kissed loudly your exposed neck. "It must take you forever to knit it, sweet"

"Few weeks" You shrugged, face burning under the sweet words coming from your adorable boyfriend.

"You’re the best. I can’t wait to show it to everyone. My girl made this awesome jumper by herself, who can say that except me ?" You giggled quietly and gladly accepted the kiss he pressed on your mouth, hands caressing gently your hips. "I wish I could have offered you something I made myself but except a noodle necklace...my competences stop here" You both snorted at his silliness before sharing another kiss, deeper than any of the previous one this morning.

He barely let you enough time to breath before kissed you again, his tongue meeting your for a hot and loving kiss. It made your heart beat heavily and your head dizzy. When he finally let go of your mouth, you were both panting slightly, lips swollen from the intense kiss.

"What’s that for ?" You murmured with a giddy smile, the butterflies inside your belly going crazy.

"I love you" Joe replied with a find smile, his warm palm cradling your face so gently it made you melt. "I’m totally in love with you" You were sure your heart clearly stopped for few seconds at his words before beating quicker than never, your mouth opened like a goldfish. "You don’t have to say ba—"

"I love you too" You breathed quietly, looking at each other with this stupid ‘in love’ smile. "Merry Christmas Joe" You wrapped your arms around his waist, head resting peacefully against his chest.

"Merry Christmas my love"

#joe mazello x reader #joe mazzelo x reader #joe mazzello x reader #christmas prompts

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purplerose244 · 5 years ago

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All I want for Christmas

Here’s my present for @yellowmagicalgirl!! Hi, I’m your Secret Santa 😎 Here for you a Jlaire Christmas fic hurt/comfort with some fluffy moments, I hope you have a nice Christmas ❤❤ A special thank to @toa-secret-santa for this wonderful event, I enjoyed a lot writing this! 😊

Enjoy!! ^ ^

Here the fic on the AO3

So… his girlfriend was late.

Nothing to fear someone would say, maybe you arrived too early some other would say, take the hint and move on Jim Lame Jr. a third person would add – or that was just a remaining of Steve’s high school reign of terror into his head. And then there was him, who was in a relationship that had survived high school, Trollmarket, Darklands and the end of the world – twice. Who trusted this girl like few other people in the entire world. Who knew to be have been stalling for half an hour at this fancy restaurant, constantly looking at his phone to make sure he was in time.

The waiter was giving him such deadly eyes he couldn’t help but scratch his chest looking instinctively for his amulet, just in case. Only to pet the cloth of his jacket. The Glamour Mask was definitely a powerful item, turning all of his mighty half troll figure into his skinny old self. As much as it felt good to look human again, he could help but feel off. He never truly liked appearances, and lying to himself was ridiculous. Just for tonight, though, he promised himself not to be overly existentialistic.

He could sit on a chair of his size! The wonder!

His phone started to ring, his heart fluttered hoping to finally get a word from Claire. Nope, just good old Tobes. Four minutes late now. Eh, maybe he was getting paranoid.

“Hello?”

“-Jimbooo!! Merry Christmas!-”

“Tobes you said it this morning already. Right at midnight, remember?” Not his ideal alarm, with all the danger faced until now he had become pretty good at waking up automatically with his sword out – poor Bagdwella woke up only to faint right after.

“-Can’t I say it twice to my bestest friend in the world? Aaalso Nana may or may not want me to check in and make sure the sweater she made for you is big enough. She kinda took the cookies hostage so… Merry Christmas, please tell me the sweater is good!-” Jim giggled. How could it not? Somehow his tough troll skin could still melt under the fluffiness. One of the best presents he got all day, even though it was a tough fight against Blinky’s book, a handmade historical volume with all his adventures as the trollhunter and Jim Lake Jr., and the other trolls’ effort to build him a statue like the ones in the Hero’s Forge back at the Trollmarket – out of scratch and garbage, but still heartfelt. Also Claire’s was still left…

“It’s perfect, tell her I say thanks.” The music in the background sounded different from usual, it was definitely not Ms. Domzalski’s usual eighties Christmas movie. More like some kind of Rumba lesson. “Are you guys dancing?”

Toby made a disgusted noise.

“-Just Nana… and Varvatos.-”

“For real?!” Boy did he miss stuff from Arcadia.

Even from the phone he could hear the light shrug.

“-We have our Akiridion friends for Christmas, apparently they don’t know what it is and that is unacceptable. Apart from the geezers’ love show it’s kinda fun you know? Aja has spent a full hour staring in awe at the decorations and Krel is at his fourth hot chocolate. Tried to stop him, kept shifting the mug through all his four arms, the sneaky genius.-” He sighed, but in a playful tone. He was definitely happy to have those two at his home – maybe even Varvatos. “-You’re at the restaurant, dude? How is the Christmas going for you two lovebirds?-” Right on cue his smirking voice appeared, of course. His own fault telling him about all the planning he did for this night – even though there was no way to hide something like that from him.

Jim stared at the empty spot in front of him, sighing.

“Claire’s not here yet.”

“-What?… she’s ten minutes late, what’s going on?-” That was a great question. “-I leave you all alone in New Jersey, see what happens. Do I have to put up a new three rules plan? Like back for the double date?-”

“Not sure how to prove your method since that time I basically went on a date with Morgana.” The implications of that night could still give him the creeps, and judging from Toby’s whine it wasn’t just him. “I’m sure it’s nothing. Besides, she can take care of herself.” There wasn’t even much danger hanging around, only a bunch of goblins and that warrior thingy they threatened away a while ago – now it was a Wizards’ problem.

“-If you say so, I guess I’ll leave you th- Luug for the last time, stop stealing Chomsky’s wife, she’s not a toy! She would be in any other place but not in this house!-” A happy barf came from the phone. “-Well, gotta scram. Say hi to Claire, for me! And to Blinky and the others!-”

“For sure, bye.” Call ended, still no sign of his girlfriend. Everything was too quiet, this fancy place was moved just by polite whispering and some light clanks of the stools. The waiter passed by his table, giving him a very annoyed and questionable eyebrow. “Huh, scusa, sorry, five more minutes?” The man sighed in the subtlest way and nodded, leaving him to his empty table.

Jim started to bump his fingers over the present for her, the red wrap almost mesmerizing to look at. He peaked at the phone. A quarter of an hour. He felt like he was on the verge of the ‘maybe I should send a message’, but couldn’t shake away the ‘I’m definitely I’m exaggerating’ feeling. Or maybe he was just hungry. When they started to plan this special night Claire had insisted to come to this specific Italian restaurant, ‘La Gialla Ragazza Magica’, saying there was something on the menu that she thought even his troll tongue might appreciate. It was certainly a nice thought. His first normal date at a normal place in a while, with his not so ordinary girlfriend.

Who was… peaking at the window? All covered in mud?

Jim jumped on his feet, the chair falling down. Right when their eyes met he saw the faintest tears forming, and his heart broke right there. The moment she tried to escape he was already running, probably bumping the famous waiter who broke in a few furiously whispered Italian curses.

Who cared? He didn’t. Nothing else mattered.

It had snowed a couple of days prior, now the streets were covered in white wonder. He almost slipped a couple of times but didn’t slow down. It was just a matter of showing her how serious he was. Because there was no way she could outrun him, Claire knew it well. That was why, as soon as they stumbled in an old forgotten park, hidden behind a bunch of dry trees ready to be taken down, she slowly stopped, panting softly.

Jim did the same, exhaling just one breath before scooting closer. Her tearful eyes blocked him.

“It’s nothing, I promise.” She immediately wiped away her tears.

“Claire what happened?” An attack? Another enemy? The guilt for waiting impatiently was starting to burn his stomach. He approached her cautiously, like she could run away again if he tried a rush move. “Was it the knight thingy again? Someone else?”

“No one attacked me Jim. It’s… it’s not important.” She took a bench and sat on it, looking at everything but him. She could be so stubborn sometimes. Even while wearing a purple dress covered in mud all over the gown. Even while having a lavender coat with one shoulder unstitched. Even while holding for dear life against her chest a silver bag with a blue ribbon. Even while biting her lip just to hold everything for herself.

Jim sat nearby and smiled at her, gently taking her face between his hands. It was weird again, seeing his human hands. Like nothing had really changed after all.

“I don’t really like how this not important is making my girlfriend cry. Should I beat him up?” Claire rolled her eyes, even if a little grin escaped her lips. “Ah, there, that’s better. That’s all I want for Christm- Oh my gosh, old overused Christmas songs are prophetic, what do you know.” He gained a giggle, the night was getting wonderful already. He slowly took her hands, bringing them together, cold and shaking. The bag softly drifted against her chest. “Alright, spill.”

Claire sighed, looking better, leaning into his hold.

“It’s stupid, really.”

“If you’re involved then it’s definitely not.” She shrugged, eyes down, still looking unsure. “Come on Claire, don’t make me speak Spanish to you, you know I can do that!” Ah, a snort. He was definitely going in the right direction.

“Please spare me from such painful experience.”

“Then you know what to do, chica loca.” Every single one of Senor Uhl’s harsh lessons was worth it just to hear this laugh, a wonderful sound able to turn the cold winter just a little bit warmer.

Claire looked down at the present, her smile slowly fading into disappointment.

“I just... I struggled a little to find the perfect present for you.” Claire Nunez getting this late for an event? “I already made something for you like a month ago.” Oh thank goodness, now the world was in balance again. “But the more I thought about it the silliest it looked and...” She grunted, frustrated, crossing her arms over her stomach, the bag in the middle. “I don’t know, I freaked out. And then I come to this exotic restaurant with all the atmosphere, with my boyfriend all elegant and a present ready on the table that is definitely gonna be amazing and...” Claire whined, giving him a smile. “You just have to make everything special for me, do you?”

Jim winced, scooting closer, a little wary.

��You don’t like that?”

“I love that. Makes me wanna do something in return, and this is what happens when I try.” She sighed, looking down at her gown. “… I was trying to find a spell for making you human again.” Jim couldn’t help but gasp, looking at her in disbelief. “I know you’re seeing everything in a better light now, I know you’re embracing your new life and you’re okay with that. It was supposed to be for one night, tonight, instead of using the Glamour Mask.” Claire’s eyes fell, the faintest bags underneath. Just how long she studied for that? “But I failed, none of the spells I tried had worked, not even after I sneaked some of Merlin’s old books.” A natural scowl took over her face for a moment, forever marked as a reaction to that name. “I’m sorry Jim. I wanted to give you the best Christmas after all you’ve been through, and now…” She took the bag between her hands, her wet cheeks vivid under the streetlights. Shook by the disappointment and the hatred.

But oh, if Jim cared about that awful guy right now. There was absolutely nothing that could distract him from this wonderful warm feeling taking over inside, challenging winter for supremacy and winning without a sweat.

She did it for him. For no one but him.

Jim hugged her, waiting for her surprised hands to lean on his back. If there was something good that truly came from his transformation was how life had became so much vivid. All of his senses were hyperactive, capturing everything around him. The pinching caress of the winter breeze, the chatters of citizens excited for festivities, the Christmas lights so painfully beautiful, the mouthwatering smell of doughnuts in the streets.

And her. Her scent, her voice, her touch.

“I love you.” Her sweet, gentle shiver as words took place into the air. To the point even Jim was forced to acknowledge them. Right. He never said that before, such an obvious yet fundamental thing. Right now it felt just right.

Claire pushed him away just to look into his eyes. In her brown irises there was astonishment, wonder, awe. Love. So much love, blossoming in her smile. And in her laugh.

“Took you long enough.”

Jim grinned. Right, he couldn’t even gather the courage to ask her to prom, let alone the l-word. She was simply one step ahead, and he would had not taken it any other way.

“You just have a quicker pace. I’m catching you, always will.” Or maybe she was willing to wait for him to speed up. That was what he thought, when she took the Glamour Mask off his face for just a moment, his blue fuzzy face in full view in the Christmas night. She was ready to make sure he was seen, was welcomed, was close, like right now when she kissed him so gently with her cold lips, the caress of a snowflake. Making him forget who was troll, who was human, and what actually mattered outside this moment.

When Claire pulled away, lips beautifully red and lucid, the regret was still apparent into her eyes.

“… I’m sorry it didn’t work out. I really wanted to give you something special tonight.” She put back the mask, smiling weakly.

Jim tenderly caressed her cheek.

“You wanna give me something special? Please let’s get to our table, I’m pretty sure one of the waiter is already done with me.” She arched an eyebrow in confusion. “… I came an hour earlier to make sure I was on time. Kept stalling the entire night.”

Claire giggled, the lights got brighter.

“James Lake Junior, are you for real?”

“Hey, I’m allowed to be nervous the night of Christmas for a dinner date, especially if my girlfriend is late!” She rolled her eyes but nodded nonetheless. “… maybe you wanna go home and change? Or we can just forget about dinner, if you’re not in the mood anymore.” The last thing he would had wanted was upset her, especially after knowing how much she had worked on this.

Claire gave him a look. She eyed her dress, smiled slyly and traced the outline of the spots with her fingers. She whispered something, her eyes turned purple for a moment, and the mud came out of the cloth falling on the snow.

“I like this dress, thank you. Also I’m starving, shall we?” She extended a hand towards him, smiling softly. Glowing as soon as he took the invitation. Right, no chivalry with this sorceress, Claire could be her own knight with no problem.

Getting back inside the restaurant proved to be a little less problematic than he expected, he wasn’t sure if it was his inerasable reservation, the present he left at the table kinda like a placeholder, or the beautiful lady by his side. They simply managed to avoid the waiter’s very obvious irritated expression and take place. The atmosphere was already different, as one of the musician started playing some Christmas song at the piano.

Jim was distractively playing with a toothpick between his fingers, without missing Claire’s worried glance at his present for her. He sighed.

“Look, how about we just get this over with? So you can relax a little.” She hummed slightly then nodded. He pushed the bag towards her. “Here. I hope you like it.” Claire smiled and started unwrapping, try to peak inside as soon as a hole appeared. When it was finally uncovered she gasped with glee, looking at the brand new edition of Romeo and Juliet in her hand. The cover was white with black roses at the edges, a single red bottle under the big title.

“Oh Jim, it’s beautiful!”

Jim grinned, keeping a sigh of relief for himself.

“I know you left your copy at Arcadia, so I thought why not?” He took his time to admire this theatre kid getting lost on her world. “There’s a little note inside.” And thinking about how much sleep he lost just thinking about those three lines almost made him yawn on the place. When she looked at his dedication, right next to the first chapter, he could almost hear her thoughts reading out loud.

Back there I was your Romeo, you were my Juliet

Today, together, we’re our own happy ending

I love you, Claire Nunez

JLJ

It didn’t rhyme and that sucked, it was the first conclusion he came to when he had finished the thirtieth draft. But when Claire’s lips gingerly touched his once again, with her standing up without caring for the attention, he couldn’t help but feel overly proud about himself.

Claire looked tearful again, and so happy.

“I love you too.” She went back to her seat, looking at the book with adoration. “Thank you, it’s perfect, this is just… perfect.” Her eyes went down again, as she warily gave him the present. This honor student had always took her most important assignments very seriously, going for a second option was probably painful.

Jim took the bag. It felt very light, and kinda soft. A sweater? A scarf?

“Claire you know if it’s coming from you I already love it, right? Like, it would be physically impossible for me to hate something that you bought for me.”

“Then there’s a problem, since I didn’t buy it.” She just gesture for him to get it over with.

Jim frowned, opening the bag. And there it was, red, white, fluffy. A big Santa hat made of wool, clearly handmade, with a precise texture even if a little loose. It had a little bell on the top that made him smile when he shook it.

“This is adorable, you made it yourself?”

“Well, yeah, but I did get some lessons from Lucy through webcam.”

“Who’s Lucy?”

“Aja and Krel’s adoptive mom or something, Toby told me about her as soon as I explained to him what I wanted to do.” Of course Tobes knew, that guy was everyone’s connection. “It’s just a little something, and it still came out a little amateurish… doesn’t really compare with this.” Her hands were still on the book, down but still so happy.

Jim smiled at her.

“What? You made this for me, this is the best! Let me try it… what…” He should had not notice probably, as his thumb slipped into a hole of the hat. “I-I probably shook it too hard, sorry!”

But Claire shook her head.

“It was there already. There are two holes actually. I put them.”

“Why would you…” As the second hole was revealed, and the realization of how perfectly placed the entrances were from each other, Jim gasped. “… oh my gosh. Oh my gosh, it’s a Christmas hat with holes for my horns. You made me a hat with space for my horns!” How he wished he could erase the expression of uncertainty from her face right this moment, but the joy was too much for him to do anything. Just imagining her careful fingers tracing the cloth and making sure to leave that little particularity was enough to leave him speechless.

Claire was worried. But she was also really, really smart, and Jim was most certain he was crying some happy tears while dealing with this bright shock of joy.

“… so you like it?”

“I love it!” He smiled at her. “Thank you.” He put it on, without caring how disproportional it looked over his human head – for the first time ever he couldn’t wait to go back to his troll appearance. He tried to reach her over the table, his hand met hers midway and their fingers intertwined.

Her eyes were so bright and full it was almost too much to look at.

“You deserve this and so much more. You know you do, right?”

Jim shrugged, tracing her knuckles.

“Well, I’m not asking for anything more but this.” How messy and chaotic were their lives to enjoy just a simple breath while holding each other’s hands like this? Little they cared. Jim might have been content with just being like this for a few hours… but he was also hungry. Troll hungry. “Now, this is a really nice place, but what do I eat exactly?”

Claire took the menu and smirked, like she was expecting that question.

“Puzzone di Moena.”

“Come again?” She giggled.

“It’s an Italian cheese, produced in a city of a specific region of the North. You can translate the name as ‘Moena’s Stinky’, very characteristic for its very strong smell of… feet.” She pointed at one of the main dishes. “Here they make the gnocchi with a sauce made of that cheese, I thought that you might like this one. Just so you can have a nice meal in a neat place with me.”

Jim didn’t even know how to deal with this. He just took her hand again, warm and soft, looking at her amazing girlfriend with the strongest wish to let her know how much it meant to him.

“I love you so much.”

Claire held back, smiling brightly, like she knew exactly how much.

“I love you too.” Because she felt exactly the same.

#trollhunters #toa #tales of arcadia #jim lake jr #claire nunez #toby domzalski #troll jim #christmas #toa fanfiction #fanfiction #christmas fanfiction #secret santa

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starlightomatic · 3 years ago

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So, I think that this was super well-intentioned, but I think it’s also an example of exactly what we’re talking about. It’s not that we feel excluded from Christmas because we want to celebrate it and we can’t, it’s that we feel excluded from American society because we don’t want to celebrate Christmas and in many ways it’s made clear to us that that’s not okay.

Your family’s Christmas sounds lovely and I am glad that’s something your family does! But, it’s not something I’m going to adopt with my family, for a few reasons. It’s partly because Christmas was often when antisemitic violence would occur back in Eastern Europe — tensions between Jews and their non-Jewish neighbors would erupt that night and Jews would be killed. It’s also because of the association Christmas still does have with Jesus. But the simplest reason is just, it’s not our culture and there’s no reason to celebrate and that’s okay!

To make an analogy — Rosh Hashanah is a Jewish holiday that happens in September or October. It’s our New Year. We gather with our families, wear new clothes, eat special foods and go to synagogue. It’s a religious holiday for a lot of Jews, but there are some secular Jews who don’t go to synagogue or say any of the blessings — they just use it as a day to gather with their families and have a special meal. But, I’m guessing your family probably doesn’t do that. And it’s probably not because you object to Rosh Hashanah on religious or philosophical grounds, or because you feel excluded — it’s just because it’s not your holiday and there’s simply no reason why September 6th (or whatever day it falls) should be any different from any other day. And that’s okay!

In much the same way, Christmas for my family was just another day — albeit a day my dad had off from work, and I had off from school. And, Jews actually do have various alternatives! Because it’s a day off but most things to do are closed, American Jews developed a tradition of eating Chinese food and going out to a movie (because Chinese restaurants and movie theaters are often the only businesses open). Growing up, it was usually just a quiet day spent catching up on homework.

There’s an older tradition called Nitl Nacht, as well, that comes from pre-WW2 Jewish society in Eastern Europe. Because of the pain that Christianity had brought to Jewish communities (in the form of violence) it was considered not good to study Torah on Christmas because then Jesus would merit from it, so men who would usually have been out studying Torah would instead stay in and play cards and board games. I suspect the reason for this was also so they wouldn’t be outside where they could be attacked. My mom grew up mostly in the US, but she and her family did Nitl Nacht when she was growing up because her family is Hasidic and keep some of the older customs that other American Jews stopped doing.

So, it’s not actually about not having something to do on actual Christmas Eve or Day! We’re pretty content with eating Chinese food, or playing cards, or sitting and doing homework. The real issue is the month or two leading up to it, when we’re bombarded with Christmas music and Christmas merchandise and Christmas from every angle and place — ads on TV, Christmas trees in our apartment buildings, decorations in our offices, even tumblr aesthetic blogs. It’s everywhere — for weeks and weeks. And it’s a reminder that we don’t belong.

See, the thing is, it’s not really about feeling bad that we can’t celebrate it (though, I won’t lie, for me at least there’s a little of that). What it’s about is the fact that it sends a message that there is no room in society for people who don’t celebrate Christmas. That we’re doing something wrong if we don’t. Something offensive even. And that’s so often reinforced — by coworkers asking what our Christmas plans are even if we’re loudly Jewish, to a Jew being told they can’t put up a Chanukah decoration in their cubicle when the entire office is covered in Christmas decorations because it “ruins the vibe,” to people actually getting angry when a Jew says they don’t celebrate Christmas!

I don’t mean to make an example of you, but to be honest, your comment ties into this. There were maybe some assumptions that the existence and importance of Christmas in someone’s life is a default, and that the only objection to it could be not feeling included in it. And that’s really the thing; we’re not asking to be welcomed into Christmas. We’re asking to be respected and accepted as full members of American society (or whichever society, because while my experience and that of the article author is that of being Jewish in America, this is more broadly applicable) even if we don’t want to participate in Christmas.

The issue isn’t even Christmas itself, not really. The issue is with not making space for difference. With not being okay with difference. The issue is with a society that centers one religion and culture and marginalizes the others. A society where there’s just one right way to be, and everyone else is expected to assimilate or at very least shut up. So, while the offer to be welcomed into Christmas is kind, what we really want is a society where difference is welcomed and where lots of different religions and cultures are seen as valid and valued parts of our communal fabric.

The irony is that secular Christmas was supposed to be a solution for a multicultural America where there’s no state religion or required observance. But a watered-down version of Jesus’s so-called birthday... has just managed to make the assumption of Christianity even more of a given. Non-Christians who opt out of stockings and presents aren’t considered bad at religion; they’re considered bad at American-ness.... Each tinkly "It’s the Most Wonderful Tiiiiiime of the Yearrrrrr" is just one more tiny reminder that I’m not part of the majority: I’m an exception to the given social rule.

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teeanti3dhoodie · 2 years ago

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amplesalty · 2 years ago

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Halloween 2022 - Day 23 - The Changeling (1980)

No small talk in this seance. “Hi Joseph, how’s the afterlife? Was your pet hamster waiting for you?” No, just straight in with the HOW DID YOU DIE, JOSEPH?!

Well, if it isn’t another visit from a blog alumni, this time in the shape of George C. Scott. He’s appeared previously in Firestarter and The Exorcist III. Plus there was his version of A Christmas Carol that went undocumented, maybe I should revisit that so he can be one of the few to appear in both Halloween and Christms marathons. I assume it’s few, I can’t think who would be on that list off the top of my head, Macalay Culkin springs to mind immediately after looking at The Good Son the other year.

It’s a shame I’ve already looked at Exorcist III actually, it would have made for some great ‘SCISSOR ME DADDY ASS!’ references. That’s going to sound alarmingly strange to anyone who doesn’t know the context so let’s move swiftly on.

The Changeling is a haunted house/ghost type movie that abruptly takes a sharp pivot in a true crime direction about two thirds of the way through. Things start out horrifcly enough with Scott’s character John Russell witnessing his wife and child being absolutely steamrolled by a truck in a traffic accident. One second they’re just casually waiting for some roadside assistance and the next they’re willingly laying down right in the path of an out of control vehicle. This, children, is why you always stand well away from your parked car when you’ve broken down. But seriously, they see this truck coming and could easily just run to the side out of it’s way but instead they just lay down directly in front of it. There’s only one word for that; idiocy.

John can only look on helplessly from a nearby phone box. I love how the title just flashes up straight away, it’s like the same timing as the credits starting for Curb Your Enthusiasm just at the sweet spot of comedic timing. Heck, this would make for a very dark round of ‘Meme Your Enthusiasm’.

Turns out John is a very talented composer and in the wake of this tragedy, moves to Seattle to take up a lecturing job whilst working on new compositions. It’s here that he’s able to rent an old house through the local historical society who deem it perfect to him due to its large music room complete with grand piano. But strange things start to happen like random banging noises that are a little too odd to put down to just the house settling for the night.

Or a bath just running itself which leads to a startling vision of a young boy being drowned and a hidden room in the house where he was seemingly locked away, complete with a tiny wheelchair. After that Guy Pierce version of A Christmas Carol I think I’ve had quite my fill of watching crippled children drowning, thank you very much. I love how John just ‘nopes’ out of there by reversing out of the room like Homer Simpson through his hedges, going out of the door and right down the corridor in a way that he seems to back into the camera itself and effectively fade the scene to black.

Through the means of a seance, we come to learn that this boy was called Joseph Carmichael and this is where the whole turn into true crime comes in with a rather convoluted plot-line involving the state senator, Joseph Carmichael. See, his family owned the house and the young boy stood to inherit quite a fortune once he turned 21. Only, given his frail state, his father couldn’t let that go to chance so decided to quietly bump him off himself whilst drafting in a replacement who he would ship off to Europe for 15 years before bringing him back miraculously cured of all his ailments.

So the movie turns into this attempt to put the spirit of the real Joseph Carmichael to rest whilst the suspicious senator starts doing some digging of his own on John when he’s tipped off to these people suddenly sniffing around the house and the old family archives. John clearly needs some pointers on his investigate skills because his big play is basically lung wildly at the senator screaming conspiracy theory level claims about children who have been dead for the best part of 70 years and impostors. Quite frankly, he’s luckily the senators security detail didn’t shoot him on sight.

This one is okay, George C. Scott brings a certain gravitas to the role and it’s a refreshing change on the back of something like The Amityville Horror to not had this outwardly aggressive spirit in the house. It’s more like it’s reaching out in the hopes that someone may be able to avenge it’s death. Not that it doesn’t have it’s moments of aggression, seemingly getting pissed off towards the end at what seems to be fruitless attempts at trying to solve the mystery or exerting it’s powers on those who are wanting to intervene on the senators behalf.

If anything I am more intruiged by this director, Peter Medak, and some of his other work like a TV adaptation of The Hunchback of Notre Dame starring Richard Harris and Salma Hayek, and a movie called Zorro, The Gay Blade. What on Earth is Zorro, The Gay Blade? This was 1981 so it’s not as if it’s some old timey use of the word like in The Flintstones. Is this some weird exploitation thing?

#Halloween 2022 #The Changeling

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