#and sulley turns his back on him and tells him it doesn’t matter

[celosiaa]

Submission by @entitynumber5: Hi Connor, I hope you’re having a WONDERFUL birthday and that you get to take a break from studying to do the things you enjoy and just have the lovely day you deserve!!! For this morning’s “write what I like” sprint (trying a new method of getting it all out before I have to put the brain into study mode), I wrote a lil something about 🎃 spooky season birthdays 🎃set in the Emmaverse… which turned out kind of long and a bit sappy. So there is no pressure to read it! I just love these characters :’) the working title is “Martin and Jon get proven wrong by an adorable five year old”.

Content warnings: brief mentions of blood, alcohol and minor injury (in relation to Martin working a Halloween paramedic shift); food.

Emma is obsessed with birthdays. Just not her own.

She turned five in May, and no matter how special they tried to make the day—with rainbow layer cake and carefully-selected presents and a visit to the roller-skating rink with her best friends—she didn’t seem half as excited as when it was someone else’s birthday. She would hardly sleep the night before friends’ parties. She spent hours wrapping the presents she picked for them with ribbons and bows and even confetti stuffed inside the paper. The only time they could encourage her to practice the piano for her weekly lessons was when she played the Happy Birthday song over FaceTime for her friends’ birthdays that were during school holidays.

The only thing Emma seems to have held onto from her own birthday is the notebook given to her Georgie and Melanie. Martin seems to remember there being two: one with little cartoon ghost drawn in the front by Georgie and the other with a scribble of the Admiral by Melanie. But Emma only carries the one around with her everywhere, and Martin is starting to doubt his own memory about there being a duplicate.

She has it with her now, as they sit outside the lecture theatre where Jon is currently teaching. In the too-big chair beside the door, her legs swing as she holds the notebook very close, staring intently at its pages while she wriggles her fluffy purple pen in thought.

“Daddy,” Emma says, in that voice that means she has a Very Serious Question, “When is your birthday?”

Martin is still a little dazed from nearly a week of night shifts. It’s the first time in six days that he hasn’t been working or sleeping at this time in the afternoon, and while walking with Emma to Jon’s work to surprise him at the end of the day seemed like a nice idea in practice, he really wishes he was lying on the sofa. They could be watching Peppa Pig for the thousandth time. Or getting started on dinner, which he isn’t going to let Jon make after a long day of teaching. He’s been mentally calculating how many hours it is until he can go to bed, how many tasks he has to do before then.

This feels like a selfish thought, though, and he pushes it aside quickly in favour of smiling at Emma. “My birthday?”

“Yes,” Emma replies, still very grave, “That’s what I said. At school today, Miss Jones made us all put stickers on the big calendar on the wall for our birthdays. I wrote down all of my friends’ birthdays.”

“That’s nice.”

“And now I want to write down yours.”

“Okay, well, my birthday is next month.”

Emma frowns. “Next month. That’s…” she counts on her fingers until she seems to reach the answer she’s looking for. “October?”

“It is!” Martin grins. “Well done.”

Emma’s little frown doesn’t ease. “What day?”

“Well, do you know how many days are in October?”

Emma thinks. Shakes her head.

“There are thirty-one days in October,” Martin tells Emma, “And my birthday is on the very last day.”

Emma nods and returns to her notebook, slowly enunciating the words as she writes them down: “Oc-to-ber three-one.”

Martin wonders if Emma realises his birthday coincides with Halloween. Besides birthdays, she still doesn’t seem too interested in dates, no matter how many times her teacher makes her write them at the top of every page in her workbook. And during previous years, they celebrated Martin’s birthday the day before or after Halloween itself, so they can separate the two events, although perhaps she doesn’t remember.

Before Martin can ask, the door of the lecture theatre opens and students start filing out. Emma puts away her notebook and pen, her frown of concentration replaced by a glowing smile as she waits, bouncing excitedly in the chair, for her Baba to notice them waiting just outside.

*

“Jon,” Martin whisper-shouts as he tiptoes into the house after his shift, hoping he doesn’t wake Emma—but that his husband knows it’s urgent. “Jon, Jon, Jon.”

Jon emerges from the kitchen, wearing a pair of yellow washing up gloves dripping soap suds and a look of alarm. “What’s wrong?”

Martin ushers him back into the kitchen and shuts the door as quietly as possible, hoping it won’t wake Emma—or, worse yet, the cats, who will sit outside any closed door and cry to be let inside no matter what activity they were engaged in before.

“Martin,” Jon says, “What’s going on?”

“They just released the shifts for the next few weeks,” Martin replies, “And I’m working.”

“Well, good. I should hope so.”

“On my birthday.”

Jon’s expression merges into one of comprehension: Emma. And her newfound obsession with birthdays. “Ah.”

“Yep.”

“I don’t suppose you could swap shifts with someone?” Jon asks.

Martin sits down at the table, lowering his head into his hands. He wants to shower, change out of his paramedic uniform, but he knows he won’t be able to focus on anything else until they’ve had this conversation. “No one’s going to willingly take a Halloween shift. For a start, Andrew is terrified of clowns. And people are usually drunk, and it’s actually really hard to tell the difference between real and fake blood.”

“We could celebrate the day after,” Jon says, taking off the washing up gloves and sitting opposite Martin. He reaches across the table to take Martin’s hand. “I mean, you were born five minutes before midnight. It wouldn’t be a lie so much as a… slight shifting of the truth.”

“Jonathan Sims.” Martin gapes across the table at him. “Are you suggesting we lie to our daughter?”

“No!”

“Yes.”

“No, Martin,” Jon says again, “I’m simply suggesting we separate your birthday from Halloween, as we have done every year, and not draw attention to the fact because our daughter is currently obsessed with other peoples’ birthdays.”

“And it might upset her if she knew we were actually celebrating on the wrong day.”

“Exactly.”

Martin sighs. “I don’t know. It feels… sort of wrong.”

“Apparently, children under the age of seven have no concept of the passing of time and—”

“Did Tim tell you that?”

“No.”

“Oh, god. It wasn’t Helen, was it? Please tell me you haven’t been having philosophical discussions about parenting with Helen again.”

“Martin,” Jon interrupts, “It was in the parenting book you gave me.”

“Huh. I don’t remember that chapter. Oh, god, maybe I should re-read it. The whole thing. Beginning to end. I—”

“Martin.” Jon squeezes his hand. “You deserve a day of your own. Tim and Sasha already agreed to take Emma trick-or-treating on Halloween. She will be focused on that for most of the day; she’s already talking about how excited she is. Let us spend the day after that treating you to all the wonderful things you deserve on your birthday—and every day.”

Martin manages a small smile, although every instinct inside of him is telling him not to accept Jon’s proposal. Not because he is worried about the ethics of manipulating their daughter’s concept of time—although this is a concern, too—but because he doesn’t want Jon to feel like he has to do any of this. To make a whole day about him, even if he takes great pleasure and care in doing the same for Jon on his birthday.

“Thanks, Jon,” Martin murmurs.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“Now, why don’t you go and have a warm shower? I’ve put the hot water on so it shouldn’t run out while you’re in there this time.”

Martin smirks. “Are you saying I smell?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?” Martin presses, teasing now. “Because I did have to treat a farmer who’d been kicked by one of his cows this evening.”

“Okay, alright, yes. Yes, you smell. Please go and have a shower.”

Martin laughs and gets up from the table. “I’m going, I’m going.”

“That really is disgusting, Martin.”

“It’s actually a pretty funny story. About the farmer, I mean. He’s fine, by the way. I’ll tell you about it when I’m out of the shower.”

Jon shakes his head. “Why today, of all days, have you abandoned the notion of showering before you sit down at the dinner table?”

“I had something important to tell you!”

“Fine. Alright.” Jon shakes his head again. “Now please have a shower. For your sake as much as mine.”

“Love you,” Martin sing-songs as he exits the kitchen. He hears Jon’s gentle laugh chase him into the warmth of the bathroom, where Jon has put on the radiator and left him a fresh towel. He smiles, feeling his love for Jon balloon in his chest, and settles into the sensation being home.

*

Martin’s Halloween—and birthday—shift is so busy that he barely has time to check his phone. Tim has sent an album of photos of him, Sasha and Emma out trick-or-treating, dressed as Mike, Sulley and Boo from Monsters, Inc. Jon has been updating him on the number of trick-or-treaters who have visited their house (fifty-four, as of ten thirty p.m.), and how Iris and the cats are holding up with the constant ringing of the doorbell.

On his break, Martin quickly texts Tim to watch his glucose levels and not to forget his insulin (to which Tim replies yes, sir with a number of yellow heart emojis). He also texts Sasha to say she can take home any of the Skittles they get on their expedition, since they’re her favourite but Emma hates them. He tells Jon he loves him and to give Iris a pet on his behalf and that there’s some spare sweets under the sink, if they’re running low. Then it’s back to work.

The shift passes quickly, in the end. There is so much to do and no time to think about anything other than their patients. He does get given a toffee apple by someone dressed as a Minion at a student house party, and he narrowly avoids getting his face painted by twins who are the same age as Emma while his team are checking their mother’s twisted ankle after a fall trying to get to the door in time for a last-minute delivery of sweets. It’s not an awful shift, but it is, like always, exhausting and difficult in the same measure as it’s rewarding and hopeful.

By the time he gets home, all he wants to do is sleep. Emma is tucked into bed, fast asleep, while her nightlight projects solar systems onto the ceiling. Jon, too, is sleeping soundly with the cats for company. Iris barely looks up from her bed when he comes inside, but she gives a little wag of her tail each time he passes down the hallway to shower or get a drink of water. There’s a plastic pumpkin full of Emma’s sweets on the table, next to the empty bowl that had once been full of treats to hand out to their visitors.

Martin’s smiles—it looks like a night well-spent for his family—and this thought carries him through an exhausted shower before he crawls into bed next to Jon. Jon must be tired, too, because he doesn’t stir. Martin makes a mental note to check his joints aren’t playing up from all the getting up and down from the sofa during the trick-or-treat visits.

Sometime later, Martin wakes to the soft click of the door as it opens. He squints against the light bursting around the edges of the still-shut curtains, expecting to see Jon tiptoeing to the bathroom to get ready for the day. Instead, Emma is creeping inside, holding a tray of pancakes while Jon follows behind, balancing two cups of tea.

“Happy birthday!” Emma says, as she places the tray down on the bed next to Martin. “We made spooky pancakes!”

Martin rubs the sleep from his eyes and sits up fully. He glances at the alarm clock next to the bed: 11:42 a.m. He’s been asleep for just over six hours, but it somehow feels longer and yet not enough. “It’s not—”

Jon clears his throat.

“Oh. Oh, thank you, Emma! These are wonderful.”

The pancakes are, indeed, spooky. Emma has used a pumpkin cookie cutter to shape them and then drawn on funny faces with fruit and syrup. No longer responsible for balancing the tray, Emma looks at Jon, a little uncertain, and Jon nods in encouragement as he places their cups of tea down on the bedside table.

“I made you a present,” Emma says almost shyly.

Martin smiles gently at her. “That’s very kind of you. Thank you, Emma.”

Emma pulls something off the tray. It’s the second notebook, the one Martin thought he’d imagined, wrapped in a glittery silver ribbon and some confetti streamers. She offers it to Martin, and he takes it carefully, holding it as if it might fall apart in his hands.

“You can open it,” Emma tells him seriously.

Martin unwraps the ribbon. Emma takes it from him, along with the confetti, perhaps to reuse for another present. Slowly, Martin cracks open the notebook to the first page. There is Georgie’s ghoulish sketch, alongside a new inscription in Emma’s handwriting: Sorted Poems By Emma K. Blackwood-Sims. For Daddy’s Birthday. October 31.

Martin feels something tender and soft unfurl in his chest, until he’s certain he is going to cry. He begins to flick through the pages, but Emma says: “Wait!”

Martin stops. “What is it?”

“Look.” Emma climbs on to the bed, elbowing her way into the space next to him, and reaches across Martin to open the notebook on the first page again, where her inscription is. She points at her name.

“It’s meant to say assorted poems,” Jon says, “But neither of us were sure how to spell it.”

Martin laughs, the sound a little wet and shaky with the tears he can feel building. Jon hates spelling. It’s his least favourite type of homework to help Emma with.

“Look,” Emma says again, “I wrote my name like yours!”

Martin smiles. “Blackwood-Sims? But that’s your name, too.”

“No,” Emma insists, “Emma K Blackwood-Sims. Like you! Like a proper poet.”

“Oh,” Martin murmurs, “Oh.”

He’s sure he and Jon will laugh about this later. Martin doesn’t actually have a middle name. Emma does, but it certainly doesn’t begin with K. But right now, he feels tears on his cheeks as he takes in his daughter’s hard work.

Emma reaches for his face, patting away his tears with the palms of her hands. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, I promise,” Martin replies, sniffling in an attempt to draw back the tears, “I’m happy. And I love you so, so much.”

Emma frowns. “Will pancakes make you feel better?”

“I’m alright, Emma. I promise. These are happy tears.”

“Pancakes always make me feel better,” Jon announces, climbing onto the other side of the bed and sliding back underneath the covers. He settles Emma down in the middle of them, handing her a mug full of juice. She doesn’t drink tea yet, but she doesn’t like to be left out when they do, so she has her own mug.

“These look wonderful,” Martin tells them, arranging the tray so they can all reach. Emma takes a plate and hands it to Jon, then does the same for Martin, before grabbing the final one for herself. “You’re getting very good at pancakes.”

“Baba said we can learn French toast next,” Emma says.

“Wow. That’s big.”

Emma nods. “It’s more difficult than normal toast.”

Martin chuckles. “It certainly is.”

They distribute the pumpkin-shaped pancakes between them. While they eat in bed, they tell each other stories about their Halloween night. Jon talks about the costumes of the people who visited their house, how many compliments they got on their pumpkin carving skills. Emma narrates her trick-or-treating adventure with Tim and Sasha. Martin shares the safest tales of his nightshift, the funny costumes he saw and the extravagant decorations at the parties they visited.

Martin is exhausted again by the time they’ve finished the pancakes. Jon insists on taking their empty plates back to the kitchen and making them another cup of tea, while Emma snuggles against Martin’s side. She rests her head on his shoulder.

“I know it’s not your birthday, Daddy,” Emma whispers.

Half-asleep until now, Martin grunts himself awake. “What was that, sweetheart?”

“I know it’s not really your birthday,” Emma tells him, not moving from where she’s clinging to his arm, “Your birthday was yesterday. On Halloween.”

“Oh, Emma, we—”

“It’s okay,” Emma says, “It’s like when we had a party on Saturday even though my birthday was on Wednesday because I had school.”

“Yeah.” Martin stokes his hand through Emma’s hair. “It is a bit like that.”

“I still get to say happy birthday.”

“You do.”

“But can we have a party on the right day next year?” Emma asks.

“For your birthday?”

“No, for your birthday.”

“Oh.” Martin laughs. “Yes. It might not be a party, if I have to work again, but we can do this. This is lovely. Thank you for being so thoughtful. And I’m excited to read your poems.”

“Baba said they were good.”

“Well, that’s high praise indeed.”

“It was fun.”

“That’s good. That’s what matters most when you make things.“

Emma wriggles around until she’s grinning up at him. “Can I read your poems now?”

Martin sighs, barely supressing a laugh. This isn’t the first time she’s asked. “Emma.”

She sticks her bottom lip out, pouting in a way that breaks Martin’s heart to the point where he can never turn her down when she’s looking at him like this. “Please.”

“Alright,” Martin gives in, “I’ll read you one tonight. Before bed.”

“Yay!” Emma’s grin grows even wider. "Thank you, Daddy.”

“Thank you. And I love you very, very much.”

“Love you, too.”

They settle back down. Martin dozes a little again, a smile on his face, as he thinks about telling Jon later that their daughter very much does understand the concept of time. There really are some things parenting books don’t prepare you for—like the way his love seems to grow with each day he gets with Emma and Jon, even when he thinks it’s impossible, that he already loves them more than any person can.

Some things are gifts even when they are not given as such, and Martin is beginning to allow himself to think of his life with his daughter and his husband as one. He didn’t ask for it with words or lists. He doesn’t know, even now, if he deserves it. But it’s his. And he will treasure it always.

Not featured: Martin realising what he’s agreed to and frantically trying to find a non-angsty poem he can read to his five-year-old daughter. Jon thinks the whole thing is hilarious.

<3

[atomic-taco-muffin]

The Lost Princess Chapter 68

Warnings: I think it’s fluff/angst

Rating: SFW

In the Badlands on the outskirts of the Keyblade Graveyard, two figures stood atop thirteen pillars of earth. Both in black cloaks, the man with blue hair spoke first.

“Humanity is a precious gift. And yet you desire to return to the Organization?” he said. 

“Oh, yes...of course. One eradication at Axel's hands was enough to learn where NOT to place my trust,” the second figure said. 

“He gave you a second lease on life.” 

“He ripped me away from the one thing I care about. I don't require humanity. Give me my research. I must see it to fruition, no matter the cost.”

“The replicas.” 

“Yes.” The hooded man laughed. “Soon they will replace, not just replicate. Given a heart, they can become just as real as any human.” 

“What excellent tidings. I would hate to think we invited you back into our ranks only for you to fail to deliver our final vessel...” The man takes off his hood, revealing the yellow eyes and ashy blond hair of... “Vexen.” 

“But remember...” Vexen said. 

“Of course.” 

“Protect the royal bloodline,” the both of them said. 

~~~~

You and the others sailed the Gummi Ship to a world of doors and monsters. The stars twinkled in the night sky as you all walked towards a large factory building taking in the sights. Sora stopped, turning around...There was something different about you all. As you and the others finally got a glimpse of one another, you all jumped back in fright, summoning your weapons. Sora held his Keyblade tightly, facing you and the others. He took a moment to distinguish the features of you and the others. But the thing was, you and the girls looked normal. 

‘Right, they’re Spirits. They can’t change forms that quickly,’ he said in his head.

“Wha...? D-Donald...Goofy...Sora...Vanitas...Why do you guys look like monsters?” you asked.

“Yeah, you’re really creeping us out,” Roxy said. 

“Although, Sora and Vanitas look kind of cute,” Rumi said. 

“Yeah, you got a point there,” Yui said. Sora had sports gray striped fur all over his body, a brand new tail, claws and spiky ears. Vanitas was the same way but had a darker color. Donald walked forward, lowering his wand. His feathers were now blue skin, his webbed feet now three-toed claws. His beak showed two fang-like protrusions as his tail ended in a spike, and two small purple wings stuck out from his back. He peered at Goofy from his single large eye. Goofy, on the other hand, now had two different sized and colored eyes, teal spotted skin and huge claws. Sora looked down at himself.

“Seriously? Is THIS how we blend in here?” he asked. 

“That's right. It's about time you caught on,” Donald said. You all walked closer to Sora, who scratched his face.

“Could you guys take a few steps back? You're givin' me the heebie- jeebies. Except you girls. You’re not creepy,” he said. 

“Yeah. Especially you Goofy. You’re really freaking me out,” Vanitas said. 

“YOU take a step back!” Donald yelled. Sora cowered, sparking a chuckle from Goofy.

“Come on, I think our new look could turn out to be lots of fun!” he said, causing Rumi to hide behind you. Sora and Vanitas shrugged and looked back up at the building. A large symbol of a M with an eye inside was stamped on the outside of the factory.

“Wonder what kind of weirdos live here...” Sora said. Goofy crouched next to Donald to whisper in his ear.

“Who'da thunk he'd get so creeped out?” he asked. Donald and Goofy giggled as you, Vanitas, Sora, and the girls read the words above the entranceway. There was scaffolding set up over the left side of the message.

“It says, ‘We Scare Because We Care’?” you asked. 

“That's odd,” Yui said. 

“Doesn't sound very caring,” Rumi said. 

“If they look like us, then they could be trouble. I think we'd better investigate,” Vanitas said. You and the others entered the factory doors and in the large lobby, you all saw two strange creatures. One very large and fuzzy and the other small and green. The larger one was holding a young toddler, causing you all alarm.

“Oh no!” Goofy said. 

“Weeee!” the toddler said. The girl poke out from over the monsters arms. She was wearing an oversized pink shirt and had tiny pigtails.

“Boo!” she said. The big monster turned around and saw you and your team, the little girl squirming in his fluffy claws.

“Hmm? I wonder who those guys are. And I wonder why there’s four human girls with them,” he said. The little green monster looked up at the big one through his single giant eyeball.

“What?! Careful, Sulley. If they see the K-I-D...” he said. 

“It's fine. We got nothing to hide.” 

“But you're the CEO! You set the example.” Sulley caved and set the girl on the floor as the green thing ran over to you and your team, waving his little arms.

“Guys! Guys, it's not what it looks like. Okay, listen. That kid over there just popped out of nowhere!” he said. He slammed his fist into his hand and you all gave him disapproving looks.

“We gotta call the CDA. Uh... It's a...uh... Oh yeah, a Code 835!” the monster said. Sora and Vanitas pointed his Keyblade at him causing him to clam up.

“Are you trying to scare that little girl?” Sora asked. Sulley raised an eyebrow.

“Yes! I mean, no no no!” the green monster said as he waved his arms frantically. “We're done with scare power. Nobody's gettin' scared.” 

“Mike, take it easy,” Sulley said. 

“You should too, guys. Ya see? She's happy!” Rumi said as she allowed the toddler to play with her bunny ears.

“Bunny!” she said. The toddler giggled and ran up to Sulley and bounced in front of him, who pet her on the head, making her giggle.

“Oh,” Vanitas said. He and Sora chuckled sheepishly as they and Donald put away their weapons. They walked up to the girl and crouched down.

“Hello. My name is Sora.” 

“And I’m Vanitas.” 

“Boo!” the girl said as she trotted over to them. 

“Oh, is that your name? Nice to meet you, Boo,” Sora said. She screamed excitedly, making Rumi’s heart melt. 

“Hold on! You guys really aren't afraid of humans?” Mike said. 

“You do see us, right?” Roxy asked. 

“Mike Wazowski,” Boo said. She pointed at Donald, who jumped in surprise, staring at her with his cyclops eye.

“Come on, Boo! I'M Mike Wazowski,” Mike said. 

“Mike Wazowski.” She continued pointing at Donald, waving her arm up and down. Sulley laughed.

“Well, you can see the resemblance. That googly bear eye,” he said. 

“What's going on? I'm Donald Duck!” 

“Mike Wazowski!” Boo said. Sora and Vanitas smiled as she started chasing Donald around the room.

“A-hyuck! I'm Goofy.” 

“I’m (Y/N).”

“The name’s Roxy.”

“I’m her twin sister, Yui.” 

“And I’m Rumi!” 

“We’re Spirits!” you and the girls said. 

“Well, my name's Sulley. And this is--”

“Oh, we know. Mike Wazowski, right?” you said. 

“How come you girls look normal?” Sulley asked. 

“It’s part of our Spirit powers,” you and the girls said. Boo jumped out from behind you as you all laughed, but soon hid behind Sulley nervously.

“What's the matter, Boo?” he asked. Behind Donald, Negaverses appeared. You and your team rushed to the danger, summoning your weapons.

“Negaverses!” Donald and Goofy said. 

“Why do these always have to ruin the moment?” Roxy asked. 

“‘Cause they’re bad guys and that’s what they do,” you said. Sulley and Mike hid Boo behind the lobby desk.

“Stay here. Kitty will be back,” Sulley said. Boo nodded and hid.

“Those guys are right, Sulley. This has got ‘bad news’ written all over it,” Mike said. 

“Yeah, we gotta keep Boo safe.” 

“I’m on it!” They ran back to you and your team in the fray, quickly disposing of the troublesome creatures. Sulley gave Mike a high-five.

“All right!” Sulley said. 

“Nice, Sulley. Even with those extra pounds you put on,” Mike said. 

“Heh, still runnin' circles around you, butterball.” Boo poke out from her hiding place.

“Kitty!” she said. Sulley shuffled over to Boo as you and your team kept vigilant.

“So, any idea who those guys were?” Mike asked. 

“Those are called Negaverses. They’re creatures that try and possess Spirits such as us,” you said. 

“Yeah. But they can also possess non-Spirits as well,” Yui said. 

“Uh-huh. A while back, the King fought a whole bunch of battles against 'em with the three missing Keyblade wielders,” Goofy said. 

“Wait, really?!” You and the girls asked. 

“Yeah, you didn’t know?” Vanitas asked. 

“Well, no one told us!” you said. Sulley and Mike exchanged glances and Mike shrugged.

“The same three that we're looking for? Aqua, Terra, and Ventus?” Sora asked. 

“Uh-huh. We need more dependable help than YOU!” Donald said. 

“Hey!” Vanitas noticed how you looked down and ruffled your hair.

“You doing okay?” he asked. 

“Yeah. I’m just worried about Aunt Aqua,” you said. 

“Wait, Aunt Aqua?” Roxy asked. 

“Not so much of an aunt, but more of a babysitter.” 

“I know that’s not all that’s bothering you. Is it...her?” Vanitas said. 

“Yeah.” 

“Who?!” Roxy and your friends asked. 

“I’ll tell you later.” 

“Still, how come the Negaverses are showin' up now?” Goofy asked.

“Is it because they use scream power?” Donald asked. 

“No. They must be after us. But then again, they can possess non-Spirits. So maybe they are using scream power,” Yui said. She looked over at Mike and Sulley and Mike stamped his foot.

“Hey, I told you we're through using that!” he said. Sulley nodded in agreement. “Besides, we have no idea who or what you're talking about.”

“Oh, you'd really like the King--” Sora said but you covered his mouth.

“Uh-oh!” Goofy said. 

“Order!” Donald and the twins said. You let go of Sora, who tried to rectify the suddenly awkward situation.

“Ummm...basically...we've come from far away to get rid of those creatures causing trouble. We're like...exterminators?” he said. You and your team nodded in agreement. 

“Just HOW far away?” Mike said. 

“As far as you can imagine,” Rumi said. Mike scratched his bald green head.

“Hmm... Okay, okay, let's just say we buy all that. Are those creeps dangerous?” he said.

“Extremely!” Donald said. 

“They sure gave Boo a scare,” Sulley said. Boo rubbed his fur and nodded. Mike turned to face Sulley.

“Sulley, I know you've missed her, but it's time to postpone our playdate,” he said. 

“You're right, Mikey. Let's get our girl home,” Sulley said. Mike nodded in agreement.

“What are you planning to do?” Vanitas asked. 

“It's kind of a long story...but Boo's from another world...and we gotta send her back there...to keep her safe,” Mike said. 

“Okay, then. We're gonna help you,” you said. 

“What?!” Boo reached for the floor and Sulley let her down.

“Well, obviously you can’t take down those Negaverses by yourself. If you did, you probably would get possessed by one,” Roxy said. 

“Yep. And they might try to cause more trouble, so, we wanna come along,” Sora said as he extended a hand.

“Great!” Mike said and shook his hand. “We could use a couple of exterminators around here!”

“Yeah, thanks!” Sulley said. Boo started running past the lobby and Sulley and Mike joined her, playfully roaring. Donald crossed his arms.

“You've always gotta help,” he said. 

“Hey, they need us. Besides, we need to figure out how all those Negaverses got here,” Sora said.

“I agree with Sora,” you said. 

~Le Time Skip b/c I’m Lazy AF~

“And that takes care of that!” Donald said. 

“Uh-huh,” Goofy said. You, Vanitas, Sora, and the girls gave a sheepish chuckle. Later, you all finally found Boo's door and jumped up to it, Mike and Sulley hanging from the rails.

“Okay, Boo. Time to go home. You must be tuckered out, but we'll play together real soon,” Sulley said. The rail buckled and began to slide the door along, with you and your team following on your own red door. You each gave your own excited shouts.

“What NOW?!” Mike asked. The doors arrived at the Laugh Floor, and you all jumped off as you all locked in your terminals. A hooded figure stepped toward them, sending you and your team on the defensive. The person took their hood off to reveal... 

“Mom!” Rumi said. 

“Gotta say, that strange facade had me fooled at first,” Elena said. 

“This is the part where you spout some mumbo jumbo and disappear, right?” Sora asked. Elena walked through one of the workstations.

“This whole world...was powered by scream. They converted the screams of human children into energy,” she said as she picked up one of the scream canisters. “And this very company was what made it all happen. It's as rich a source of negative emotion as we'll ever find.”

“For the last time, we already stopped doing that!” Mike said, angrily.

“Did you? Then how do you explain all these canisters of surplus scream?” Elena held up a canister. “This facility was everything I could hope for. And I was lucky enough to find a pawn whose heart was darkened by thoughts of revenge.”

“You mean Randall.” 

“All Randall ever cared about was winning. And this guy took advantage of that weakness,” Sulley said. 

“My heart is made of just one thing. And the Negaverses collected enough screams and sadness from those children to reconstruct it.”

“Yeah, and the whole time they were trashing our company in the process!” Mike said. Sulley held Mike back from rushing at Elene, but Mike struggled against the grip on his head.

“But, even with all this negative emotion, my heart is still incomplete. I need something else,” Elena said. She dropped the canister. It clanged to the ground before screaming off into the air.

“Whoa!” You and Sora said. Sulley dodged away, taking Mike and Boo with him. You all watched as the canister flew around the expansive room, bouncing off the walls until it ran out of scream and crashed to the floor. Mike and Sulley scowled as it rolled to Sora's feet.

“You know, I just realized something. The half of Vanitas that sleeps on...inside of your heart,” Elena said. Sora and Vanitas turned around and gasped as Elena held her bow and arrow just inches from them. Before she could attack, someone landed in between them.

“No...” Elena said. 

“Missed me?” the person asked. She stood up and you recognized her. 

“It’s her,” you said. 

Her outfit (but picture it black):

“I thought that you were trapped in the Realm of Darkness!” Elena said. 

“Yeah. Well, let’s just say I had a little help,” the woman said. 

“Grr, this isn’t over!” Elena then disappeared through a dark corridor. The woman sighed and turned around.

“Alright, which one of you is (Y/N) and Vanitas?” she asked. Sora and Roxy quickly pushed you and Vanitas towards her. 

“I thought so. Nice to finally meet you. The name’s Celina. I’m a Spirit. And also Xehanort’s daughter.” 

“Huh?!” you all asked.

To be continued...

[cabinboy100]

BABY DRIVER: Edgar Eggs!

Edgar Eggs—They're kind of like what people call Easter Eggs in other films, but with a quality that's distinctly Wrightian. Or perhaps forthWright? What follows is a collection of notes and details from the film—references, motifs, callbacks, and connections—narrative, filmmaking, and personal—inserted and/or found (or imagined by me =) in the perfectly timed rhythmic clockwork beauty that is BABY DRIVER.

Please note that my memory for quotes is tres imperfect these days. I may present some dialogue in quotes or screenplay-ish format, but it's best-of-my-recollection, and the result is likely paraphrased.

Now entering SPOILER CITY…

The Octane Shuffle

On his Octane run after the first heist, Baby musicals his way down the road to "Harlem Shuffle." As he roughly follows the song's instructions, the song is backed up by the city itself, its lyrics presented in graffiti art, spray paint, and signs in Baby's environment. And it's not just static. In at least one instance, the graffiti on his way back from Octane is different, added to, compared to the graffiti on his way to Octane. A piece of wall that echoes "Right" the first time, also tells him "Shake Shake" the second.

Also, on the way to Octane, along with Baby’s “Harlem Shuffle” track syncing with graffiti and posted words in the environment, we see Baby match poses with a mural of a guy looking up to the sky and play “air horn” in front of a show window featuring a trumpet.

Also also, on the way to Octane we overhear a guy on the phone telling someone that they're late. On the way back from Octane he passes the same guy dressing down the other guy in person about having to be on time.

Just before leaving Octane, a girl across the street catches his eye, right in front of a graffiti'd heart. It’s our Muse, Debora, but Baby doesn’t know that yet. By the time he exits the coffee shop, seconds later and heading in the same direction as her, she's mysteriously disappeared. On his way back to the Healey, he dodges a face-to-face with a policeman, two-steps around a sandwich board doomsayer telling him that he must save himself from sin, and when crossing the street, a police car just passes him by before turning on its siren. Signs and portents.

I wonder…Could the lyrics to “Harlem Shuffle” be a map to one of the getaway scenes? Or the acts and plot of the entire film…? Certainly can’t put it past Professor Wright =)

Baby makes another Octane run after the armored truck heist, considerably less joyful, and for us, abridged. Along with the change in the cover of "Harlem Shuffle" it's a great barometer of a downward, darkward, trend in Baby's crime-adjacent fortunes.

What's on the Telly?

When Baby flips thru channels at home w/Joe early on, I was hit with some deja view to the channel-hopping in SHAUN OF THE DEAD which connects clips from different shows to create a message about what's actually going on before our heroes quite suss it out. That's not quite what happens here, but the apparently random snippets of content do end up being (1) useful and (2) meaningful.

1. Useful?

If we pay attention, we learn that Baby doesn't just electronically remix (Kid Koala!) the samples of the people in his neighborhood that he records on his microcassette recorder. He also does it conversationally. When he finds himself at a loss for original words, he verbally samples/replays dialogue—from art and life—that he's stored on his personal hard drive. So, on the TV, we see Alfalfa of THE LITTLE RASCALS squeaking out "You Are So Beautiful." These are the words that seem to uncontrollably fall from his lips soon after meeting Debora. On the TV, we see John Krasinski holding Meryl Streep in some farewell moment in I-don't-know-the-movie, no-doubt-cheekily announcing, "They grow up so fast, don't they?" When casing the post office with Nephew Samm, that's what Baby says to cover up his flub of a guess at the boy's age…

TELLER: How old is he? BABY: Four. SAMM: I'm eight. BABY: They grow up so fast, don't they?

On the TV, we see Mike telling Sulley in MONSTERS, INC, "You and I are a team. Nothing is more important than our friendship." Later, this is what Baby tells Doc to reassure him of his loyalty and commitment to him. The clips are tools that Baby adds to his inventory for later use. They also serve as a Wrightian map of events to come.

It's not just media Baby remixes, tho. He pulls from life, too. In the elevator down after the first heist, he hears Darling approve of Buddy's post-heist celebration plan…"That's the finest wining and dining of all the wines and dines in town." And that's how he describes Bacchanalia when he suggests it to Debora for their first date. Of course, the suggestion itself is a Buddy sample.

I've gotta wonder if Edgar Wright is a fan of a particular sketch from THE CAROL BURNETT SHOW, with Alan Alda as guest. It was an immediate favorite when I saw it as a kid. Alda plays a fellow on a date who seems to be quite the charmer, saying all the right things. I forget if the date was at her place or maybe they show up there at the end of the night, but once she turns on the TV, we learn that most of what he's said to her have been lines from the movies. I think he denies it for a while, but when he finally breaks down into an emotional confession, a few seconds later, we hear that very same confession in the dialogue of a movie of the week. Genius.

It's probably very telling that that sketch should burn itself into my brain, eh? =)

2. Meaningful?

At the end of this series of channel flipping clips, we land on coverage of a bullfight. We see a matador stepping around a skewered but still strutting bull. We hear, and see via cc, the announcer…"The bull still stands.” In the moment, that seems to be a comment on the conversation between Baby and Joe. Baby has just told him, "One more job and I'm done." Joe tells him that he doesn't want anyone to get hurt, so Baby promises that he'll make sure nothing will happen to him. Joe explains that it's not himself he's worried about, a concern which somehow sails over his high-altitude head.

However, before we cut to the next scene, the bullfight announcer continues…"The bull still stands…Bloodied, but not defeated. Gaston could not finish him on horseback and now must try his luck on foot." To different degrees, this predicts what happens to Baby after the post office robbery and also in his finale duel with Buddy in the parking garage. Post-post office, after skewering Bats, Baby (and Buddy and Darling) have to abandon their steed and escape on foot.

By the way, the meaning behind the name "Gaston" can be stranger or guest.

Later, when it’s down to Baby and Debora vs. Buddy, they start car-v-car (the red Challenger and the police cruiser), but Baby tells Debora they have to get out of the car so that he can end this, and although he does that just to get into a different car, the final confrontation has all of the players on their feet. Well, y'know, until they’re not any more.

I think the second time we see Baby or Joe channel-hopping at home, Noel Fielding appears on screen for a few seconds. On my first screening, I thought it was a clip from THE MIGHTY BOOSH, but now I realize that it’s from the video for Mint Royale’s “Blue Song,” which Wright directed. It was sort of an early short form riff of his full-blown BABY DRIVER concept—a wheelman waiting on his crew to the sound—and duration—of a favorite song of the right length. A very fun watch and listen.

Speaking of Prophecy…

I covered this in my "BABY DRIVER: What's in a name?" post, but I think it's worth mentioning again for anyone who's going back for more. Pay attention to what Griff says about and tells Baby in his little tirade after the heist. I'm fairly certain every bit of it is true or will be proven true by the end of the film. Baby *does* think himself, if not better than, then outside and apart from, the crews that he works with. He can't be in crime and not be a little criminal. He will have blood on his hands.

His closing remark is something like…

GRIFF: Gotta hand it to ya, Totem Pole. I don't know if you're brave as shit or scared shitless, but you're gonna have to figure it out…Which one are you?

Courageous or cowardly? Baby himself doesn't know, partly because he probably hasn't thought about it, partly because he hasn't put himself in a place where that's truly been tested, but it will.

Actually, now that I think about it, on that matter, Griff is not right. It's not either-or, because Baby is both scared shitless *and* brave as shit. That’s kind of the point.

Bo's Diner and the Laundromat…

Thinking about Bo’s Diner's decor theme and wall art…The big long wall has a mural of a couple in a convertible heading down Route 66, apparently a replica of postcard art that Debora later sends to Baby while he's in jail.

Soon after Debora and Baby first speak at Bo's, she excuses herself and tells him to feel free to ask her any questions he might have. When he calls after her to do just that and ask about the "Baby" song she's singing, we see her turn back to look at him with that wall mural as the backdrop, a premix of the moment when they hit the road together, first in Baby's vision, then in reality, five years later.

How about the laundromat's decor theme and wall art? Space-y, featuring rockets and rows of laundry machines against a field of stars. Something fun to note: at whatever hour it is Debora and Baby hit the 'mat, everyone's drying their clothes in loads of red, blue, and yellow—popping primaries. A perfect musical film backdrop to their subliminal dance number. =)

Does Baby ever actually eat, drink, or order anything at Bo's?

Where is Bo’s Diner? If ever in the area, gotta go—gotta go!

I wonder if the decor in the diner and laundromat was redone for the movie, or was left as magically found?

We see Baby dial up Bo’s Diner before he leaves to take Joe to safety—555-1270. I think that was it. December 1970? Does that line up with a significant birthday or cinematic event?

What it *does* line up with is a car part—a Steeda Mustang Pedal Kit, Manual! =)

The Rainbow Connection…

POSTAL WORKER: Everybody wants happiness, nobody wants pain, but you can’t have a rainbow without a little rain.

This after saying she’s working “9 to 5, just like Dolly.”

It’s a sweet connect to the rain that falls the next day, the day of the post office heist, and the rainbow that appears five years later when Deb picks up Miles on his release from prison, ready to drive west on 20 in a car they can’t afford with a plan they don’t have.

I guess that’s romantic? Sounds like a lot of stress to me. =)

A slight stretch, but a little more “rain” falls during the parking garage duel, when the sprinklers kick in.

It may also be a callback to Debora's first anonymous and unacknowledged appearance in the film, during Baby's first "Harlem Shuffle" to Octane. A headphoned Debora (who's not yet looking like a zeb-o-ra) passes Octane on the other side of the street. When Baby spots her, she crosses directly in front of a graffiti'd heart sitting on rainbows, sync'd of course to a nice beat or sting in the music. I *think* they're rainbows below the heart. Something to look for on my next screening.

Also, kind of walking the long way around, a figurative-to-literal connection to Paul Williams!

Dolly Parton -> imparter of Rainbow wisdom -> “The Rainbow Connection” -> written by Paul Williams.

=)

An Educated Guess From an Uneducated Man…

Bats at Bo’s does a "reading" of Buddy and Darling. He calls Buddy out as an ex-Wall Street schmuck who played harder than he worked, running up debt that would "make a white man blush." He left behind a wife and maybe kid to run off with his favorite stripper and crime it up in a world of "three things—money, sex, drugs, and action…Oh, shit! That's four."

When he boils it down, he explains that Buddy and Darling rob banks to support a drug habit. Bats does drugs to support a bank robbing habit. They’re on vacation; he’s at work.

The look on Buddy's face tells me that Bats is spot-on. BTW, Jon Hamm kills in this film! =)

Buddy's got nothing to say, so Darling takes this opp to respond for both of them, explaining that Bats may think he's the crazy one in the crew, the wild card, but he's never seen Buddy when he's been pushed. "When he sees red, you won't see anything but black…" Darling's explicit warning for Bats actually predicts Buddy's relentless pursuit of revenge on Baby for her death.

Walter Hill Connections…

Walter Hill is the director of the 1978 getaway driver flick, THE DRIVER (and THE WARRIORS and 48 HOURS). I've only just recently seen THE DRIVER for the first time and it is definitely the godfather of dozens of heist and chase films I've seen over the years. It's uncanny how I recognize it now in the DNA of the likes of HEAT, THE ITALIAN JOB, and DRIVE. Kind of a missing link between LE SAMOURAI and RONIN. Edgar Wright acknowledges the film's huge inspiration on him and his filmmaking and he pays his respects in a couple of sweet ways in BABY DRIVER.

If you sit through the credits (and you should—these people made the film you just watched!) you'll see that Walter Hill played the court ASL translator for Baby's foster dad, Joe. He does not appear on screen. We only hear his voice as Joe signs…

JOE: He's got a good heart. Always has. Always will.

A minute or so later, we learn that Baby's been sentenced to a minimum of 5 years in jail, and we see him serving his time as prisoner number 28071978. That's 28-07-1978, aka the 28th of July, 1978, the original release date of Walter Hill's THE DRIVER!

Note that I did not pull that out of my wazoo. Seeing that number on screen, knowing it’s Edgar Wright at the helm, I just had a feeling, so went googling for info about THE DRIVER to uncover that connection.

Falcon Driver?

Oh, man! Who is responsible for Baby’s wardrobe? For half if not most of the film, he is strategically yet uncannily decked out in duds that scream “Han Solo” to me. I’m talking A NEW HOPE—black vest over white shirt with dark pants.

(Baby’s taste in clothes—as well as his backstory and talents—inspired this BABY DRIVER: Nerf Herder mashup… =)

After the film, I was told that our Baby, Ansel Elgort, had been on the short list for the young Han Solo film. I honestly had no idea as I did and do my best to block that sort of “news” as much as possible when it comes to films I’m looking forward to.

Was this Wright, Elgort, or another member or members of the crew expressing their support for HANsel? I have no idea how the timelines of young Solo casting and BABY DRIVER shooting line up. But if the decision was made before shooting, maybe Ansel’s turn as Baby becomes a kind of what-could-have-been/what-you-missed strutting? =)

When I heard about the LEGO MOVIE directors being dismissed from the project, I thought that maybe they’d seen BABY DRIVER and realized that Edgar Wright had already made the movie—what’s the point now? =)

And in the Hollywood minute before Ron Howard was announced, I wondered if maybe BABY DRIVER might possibly be the perfect proof of capabilities for Wright as the new director. Alas—*sigh*—not to be.

I wonder just what the heck happened with Disney/Marvel/ANT-MAN and Wright.

Musicians in BABY DRIVER…

When Baby delivers his coupe de grace in the parking garage…

BABY: Fuck you, Buddy.

A perfect phrase and sentiment all on its own, but me being me, I do also wonder if he's paraphrasing Elvis—FYB vs TCB?

When Baby does speak more than a couple of syllables, his southern drawl definitely vibes Elvis for me. And although we don't hear his voice when he's lip syncing to the Jon Spencer Blues Explosion’s “Bellbottoms” in the opening heist, he’s definitely channeling Elvis hard in the moment. Or channeling Jon Spencer channeling Elvis. In any case, the impression is made, and it stays with me.

Who gives Baby his mail in jail? Whoever it is has a very unique look—maybe costumed in an ill-fitting uniform?—a Sam Elliot mustache, and a distinctive voice. In the in-order-of-appearance credits, I didn't see him, expecting to find "prison guard" at the end of the list, after "judge." Later, on the twitters, I saw a tweet asking Edgar Wright who Jon Spencer played, and a reply that explained he was the prison guard! Yeah, I do not know my music or musicians very well, so never could've called that on my own. What a perfect cameo, though, right?

I can thank the end credits for informing me that Doc likes to hang out at Bacchanalia with Big Boi and Killer Mike (of Run the Jewels), two artists who contributed "Chase Me" to the movie's soundtrack.

Note that a lot of the above appeared in earlier posts here and here, but this rambling above is the most developed crazy talk (so far).

I've got some more half—well, more like quarter—baked thoughts, but will let them cook a while yet before posting. Don’t wanna give anyone blog salmonella. After all, these *are* made with eggs.

*groan*

If you’re interested in seeing some BABY DRIVER fan art poster designs inspired by Edgar Eggs, click here. =)

All you need is one killer track…

Keep on keepin' on~