#maybe Mr. Vera has a hit list ...

[grrrrriffin]

Feel free to take the animal head skeletons idea! I'd love to see that in action. Tho like what are these skeletons? Some kind of ghost or demons?

YIPPIE. And they're demons yep!!

[prettyboy-parker]

starker abo: homecoming

warnings: emotional and physical abuse (nothing explicit!), smut at the end, implied thorki, mentioned sambucky

words: 3.7k

“Jesus, he’s such a fuckin’ crybaby. I feel bad for Quentin.”

Everyone turns to look at the table across the cafeteria. Peter Parker, the world’s snootiest omega, is perched on top of the navy lunch table and bawling his eyes out. Loki, a lithe snarky omega, is patting under Peter’s eyes with tissues. His usual posse huddles around him, cooing at and petting him.

“I don’t. His performance in bed probably outweighs his attitude, if you catch my drift.” Sam snickers and Bucky punches him in the arm. The alpha lets out a whine and rubs at his shoulder. “Hey! What was that for?” He snaps at his boyfriend. Bucky just narrows his eyes. Tony finds himself looking at Peter again. He seems to have calmed down a little. His friends usher him out of the cafeteria, no doubt to help him fix his makeup. Tony could gag at how fucking prissy the omega is.

“You okay, Tony? You look a little pale.” Steve says, and Tony can’t believe he’s actually concerned.

“Jeez, Steve, I’m fine. Your motherly instincts take over?”

The table howls with laughter.

“Good one, Stark!” Thor booms and Steve rolls his eyes. Tony sends a wink at Steve, a group of girls heading towards their table emerging in the corner of his eye.

“Steven,” Peggy, the beta exchange student from England, pipes up. A few of her friends giggle behind her. “Would you come with me? I have to talk to you.”

Steve nods wordlessly, trailing behind her like a lost puppy.

“He’s smitten, I tell ya’.” Bucky slurs, tossing a crumpled napkin at Sam.

“Idiot. I’ve got to piss, see you in Calc.”

Sam groans and Rhodey shouts “TMI!” Tony passes a table of girls on his way out, and they all call his name. He shoots them a wink, opening the double doors to the hallway. It’s actually quiet in the hallway, aside from his combat boots thunking on the linoleum floors. He fishes through his leather jacket’s pocket, looking for his cigs, when-

“Watch where you’re fucking going!”

Tony stumbles back as he knocks into, well, none other than Peter Parker. He looks like he’s going to cry again as Loki lifts him off of the floor. The tan-skinned beta flips him a bird as they walk away.

Great.

✨👑✨

He can’t believe Quent would ever say that to him. For one, he’s not a slut. He’d never cheat on Quentin, he knows that, so why did he say it? Two, Quentin’s lucky no one was around to see Peter’s tears.

What he can’t get over is how Quentin touched him like that.

He’s heard of alphas hitting their omegas, but it’s always been an old wive’s tale, or whatever. He guesses that Quentin’s just stressed. He didn’t do so hot on his Pre-Calc test, so maybe he has some pent up anger.

Peter needs to send him some flowers.

By the time he gets back to his apartment, he’s already tried calling Quentin three times to apologize, but the alpha never picked up. He drops his Vera Bradley book bag on the floor with a heavy sigh.

“Hey, Peter! How was school?” Uncle Ben asks from where he’s seated at the kitchen island.

Peter breaks down into tears.

Uncle Ben takes him in his arms, holding him close. That’s the thing about his uncle, whenever he’s upset he just lets Peter cry it out, never asking for an explanation. Peter appreciates when his aunt gives him advice, he really does, but sometimes it’s nicer just to be held.

“I’ve got Halotop ice cream that’s calling your name.”

Peter giggles softly as Uncle Ben ruffles his hair.

Soon enough he’s cuddled under his silk sheets, a carton of peanut butter cup ice cream in his hands. In the midst of watching Cady and Janis mix together foot cream, his phone rings.  “Quentin 💕💕” lights up on the screen over a very flattering picture of his boyfriend.

“Hi,” Peter answers quietly.

“Hi honey, I just-um-wanted to say I’m sorry for what I said. I didn’t mean any of it.”

“It’s okay Quent, I was a bitch too. I’m sorry.” Peter responds quietly, stabbing his ice cream with his spoon.

“You kind of were. I’ll catch you tomorrow, okay?”

“Bye, love you.”

“Bye.”

Peter hangs up the phone, feeling emptier than before.

✨👑✨

“Anthony, you are not wearing that.”

Tony smirks and adjusts the collar of his leather jacket.

“Don’t worry, dad. I know Peter. It’s all good.” He replies, running a hand through his hand. Howard clenches his jaw.

“Come on, boys. We don’t want to be late.” His mother calls, ushering the two to the car. Howard still looks pissed as he climbs into the driver's seat, Tony scrolling through Instagram as they drive to the Parker’s. A picture of Peter appears, the omega posing on the hood of a cherry red ‘65 Thunderbird. His long, milky legs are displayed by his tiny red running shorts. A sliver of his toned stomach is exposed by his cream Coca Cola crop top. His almond hair looks like it’s blowing in the wind. Red heart-shaped glasses frame his face perfectly. The caption reads “Taste the Feeling! ♥️♥️”.

A small part of Tony wants to taste him.

He ignores that part.

“Now you behave, Anthony. This deal is important, we’re paying Benjamin a lot of money for his program.” Howard reminds him.

“Yeah yeah,” Tony replies, rolling his eyes and itching for a smoke. They pull up to one of the apartment complexes in the Upper East Side of Manhattan. Tony begrudgingly follows his parents, the elevator operator nervously pressing the buttons.  The elevator brings them directly to Peter’s penthouse because of course, the Parkers have a penthouse.

“Oh, hello!” A voice exclaims from the kitchen. He stands awkwardly until Mrs. Parker emerges from the other room. “Welcome, all of you!” She exclaims, giving his mom a hug.

“Oh, Anthony, I remember when you were just a baby. Your mother came to me for a dress for a gala, and she brought you along. You’ve grown into such a handsome alpha.”

Tony flushes, embarrassed. His mom laughs loudly and pinches his cheeks.

“Peter should be down soon, he always takes forever to get ready.” Mrs. Parker complains, pushing her glasses farther up her nose. “Benjamin is picking some whiskey from the cellar. Why don’t you come sit down?”

Mrs. Parker leads them to the living room, where the couches are covered with blankets and the fireplace roars. Tony sinks into the knitted blanket, sighing heavily.

“Oh, goodness, I’m sorry I’m late!”

Peter Parker is at the top of the steps, in a tight, glittery maroon dress, looking like an absolute vision.

“Come down, Pete.” His aunt calls with a smile. The omega’s heels click on the hardwood staircase as he comes downstairs. He’s prettier up close, a silver glittery barrette holding his curls out of his face. Gold glitter is swept over his cheeks and eyelids.

“Anthony,” He says, scrunching up his button nose. Tony winks at him. The only empty seat is next to the alpha, so Peter daintily sits down on the couch. He smells divine, like expensive floral perfume mixed with the sweet scent of omega.

“You can call me Tony, you know.” The alpha purrs under the voices of his parents and Mrs. Parker. Peter rolls his eyes.

“Dully noted.” He snaps back, but Tony just laughs.

Dinner goes on slowly and Tony keeps his mouth shut. Peter’s definitely checking him out (or maybe that’s just Tony’s ego.) During the meal of lamb and beef, Tony notices a bruise blooming under the hem of his dress.

The omega gives him a glare and adjusts his collar.

✨👑✨

“Did you hear? We’re being assigned partners this time.”

“Ugh, gag,” Peter grumbles, tapping his pink pen on his pink notebook.

“I know,” Loki responds, eyes glancing to the back of the room. “I hope I get paired up with Thor, though.”

Peter smiles and picks at his cuticle.

“He better ask you to homecoming. I’m blackmailing him if he doesn’t by Friday.” He says nonchalantly, eyeing the burly blonde in the back of the room. He’s laughing about something with Anthony.

“Peter. I’ll beat you to it, you know that.” Loki jokes. Peter nudges him in the shoulder of his dark green sweater. The class quiets down when Ms. Hill steps into the room.

“Good afternoon, everyone. As you may have heard from the other classes, we’re starting our quarter project.” She announces. “I’ll be assigning you into partners, and you’ll be researching the impact and achievements of a Chinese dynasty.”  

The glass groans, a few pairs of eyes flicking around nervously.

“Calm down. It’s senior year, you should all know each other by now. I’ve already have your partners, so listen up...”

Peter studies his French manicure as Ms. Hill calls out their names. He gives Loki a wink when the teacher pairs Thor with him for the Tang Dynasty. It’s getting to the end of the list, and Peter’s worried that Ms. Hill might have forgotten him, then-

“Tony and Peter. Song Dynasty.”

The omega dies a little inside.

“Alright, get to work! Rubrics are on my desk, get brainstorming!”

The class disperses into a flurry of noise and movement. Tony slowly stalks over to him like the douchebag he is.

“How about you get the rubric?” Peter suggests, but it’s more of an order than anything. Tony smirks and places his pencil on the desk next to Peter.

“Anything for you, princess.” He teases, causing the omega to flush a bright red. Peter doodles in his notebook until Tony gets back with two rubrics.

“Song Dynasty. I’m fuckin’ pumped.”

This actually makes Peter giggle a little bit.

“Calm down, Anthony.” He quips back, a small smile on his face.

It turns out the two work together pretty well.

Tony’s definitely not a slacker, and had avid ideas that Peter wrote down. They settled on a comedy-style presentation. (Which Peter would neverdo, but who can say no to Tony’s puppy dog eyes?)

When the bell rings, Tony walks him to his next class, like a...gentleman.

Who knew?

✨👑✨

“Good morning Midtown! I’m Peter Parker, your SGA President.”

Tony turns his attention to the T.V in the hallway. Peter sits at the newscaster desk, in a navy and white tennis polo, a matching headband pushing back his curls, and two big pearls adorning his ears. Tony could purr, but he pinches himself. There’s no way he can be falling for Peter Parker.

No way.

The entire hallway goes silent, in awe of their queen on the screen.

“A quick reminder-next week is spirit week! The days are posted on our Instagram and around the school. Don’t forget to buy your homecoming tickets. They’re being sold all week in the cafeteria. Thanks, and have a wonderful day!”

Everyone resumes their conversation.

Tony slams his locker shut.

✨👑✨

“Oh god, you are not making me ride that.”

Tony laughs loudly and tucks his hands into the pockets of his jacket.

Peter stands with his arms crossed over his baby blue Chanel sweater. His pink lips are turned down into a frown, button nose scrunched like it always is.

“I am. Unless you want to walk?” Tony coos, handing his helmet to the omega. His honey eyes glance down at the black helmet, then back up to Tony.

“You’ll keep me safe?” Peter asks quietly, his bitchy facade dropping. Tony’s eyes widen.

“Oh, of course, Pete. I’d never let anything happen to you.” The alpha responds, genuine care in his voice.

“Well, then let’s go, slowpoke.” Peter huffs, placing the ill-fitting helmet on top of his curls. Tony chuckles and straddles the bike, waiting as Peter slowly wraps his arms around his torso, resting his cheek on his back.

“Hold on!” Tony calls as he starts the bike, causing the tiny omega to yelp. They leave school, weaving through the cars and students. Peter shouts directions to his house in Tony’s ear, the alpha smiling as the wind whips behind him. They eventually arrive at Peter’s apartment complex, parking his motorcycle in the garage for the occupants.

“That sucked,” Peter grumbles, but-Tony sniffs the air.

Peter’s turned on.

He’s about to crack a joke, but stops himself. Peter looks at the ground, embarrassed.

“Sorry. Didn’t bring my car.”

Peter tries to hide his smile.

The omega brings him up to his penthouse, heading to the kitchen to grab something to eat.

“Do you want anything, Tony? I’ve got...quite a lot.” Peter asks, grabbing some wheat crackers and spread from the fridge. Tony shucks off his leather jacket, placing it over the back of the chair. He runs his hand over the cool marble counter.

“I’m good, but thank you.” He responds, pulling his notebook out of his bag. Peter shrugs, grabbing his book bag.

“Suit yourself. Let’s go upstairs, my aunt will be home soon.” He tells Tony, not sparing him a second glance before heading to the staircase. The alpha rushes behind him, narrowly avoiding an expensive looking vase. They turn right down the hallway, pictures of Peter at all stages of his life on the walls. One catches Tony’s eyes, a little baby Peter with a big blue bow on his head, smiling as he plays in a pile of leaves.

“Please don’t touch anything, Anthony.” Peter sniffs when they reach his room, pink exploding in Tony’s vision. His room is huge, perfectly cleaned and organized. There are pictures everywhere, Peter smiling with his friends. A king-sized canopy bed sits in the middle of the room, expensive silk pillows arranged with care. Peter plops himself on the ground, spreading out his papers.

”Your room is...nice.” Tony comments, sitting on the ground next to Peter. He's still overwhelmed by the omegan aroma filling the room.

”Thank you.” Peter says softly, clearly pleased.

”Should we get started? I had some ideas about how we should present the civil service exam.”

They get a big chunk of their work done but end up talking about everything butthe Song Dynasty. Peter’s actually really fucking smart, wanting to study biological engineering in college. He's down to earth and an absolute sweetheart when he's not surrounded by the student body.

And he's really fucking pretty.

”I know! Fury is such a hardass!” Peter exclaims through giggles, tears coming out of his big doe eyes. His curls are a mess, splayed underneath his head.

Tony isn’t thinking when he reaches over and thumbs away Peter’s happy tears.

The omega blinks in surprise, but-

sucks Tony’s thumb into his mouth.

Tony growls loudly, removing his thumb from Peter’s mouth with a pop, leaning down, and pressing his lips to the other’s. The omega is everything Tony thought he would be. Sweet like sugar, with the remnants of the crackers on his tongue. He hums happily as Tony picks him up, pulling the smaller into his lap.

“Tony-“

“I fucking like you, Parker.”

“Tony,” Peter whispers as the alpha lightly drags his fingers over his bare thighs. “Tony, I have a boyfriend.”

“He doesn’t deserve to be your boyfriend, Peter.” Tony says, almost frantically. “He-He fucking hurts you.”

Peter flinches at his word choice.

“He doesn’t. It’s none of your business.” The omega breathes, avoiding Tony’s gaze.

“Peter, please tell someone. Or break up with him, I don’t care.” The alpha pleads, taking Peter’s hands in his. The omega rips them away.

“He loves me. Please drop it.”

Tony bites his tongue.

✨👑✨

“Loki, your bow is crooked.”

Loki rolls his eyes and spins around.

“Then fix it, Peter.”

Peter laughs and straightens the blue bow that holds his black, silky hair out of his face. It’s Class Colors Friday, the seniors getting their rightful color of blue. Harley takes a bite of his sandwich, looking over Peter’s shoulder.

“Uh, Pete? Quentin’s coming over here, and he looks mad.”

Peter turns around, seeing his boyfriend heading towards him with a scowl on his face. Peter pretends to light up, giving him a small wave. Before he can greet the alpha, he’s grabbing Peter by his cheerleading jacket.

“You fucking slut,” He growls, blue eyes narrowed. “You sleeping around with Stark now?”

Peter whimpers as his breathing picks up.

“Quent, you’re making a scene.” He whispers, tugging at the alpha’s sleeve gently. Quentin grins menacingly.

“Am I, now?” He chuckles, pressing a kiss to Peter’s cheek. “That’s high praise coming from a drama queen like yourself. Have fun finding another homecoming date.”

With that, Quentin pushes him back, and storms out of the cafeteria. Peter follows him, ignoring the shouts from his friends.

“Quentin, baby, wait!” The omega calls out once they get into the hallway, causing the alpha to spin around.

“Is it true? You made out with Stark?”

Peter’s bottom lip quivers as he stays silent. Quentin sighs exasperatedly, clenching his fists tightly.

“You deserve everything I did to you, Peter. And I hope you fucking know it.”

Peter doesn’t see his, well, ex-boyfriend, leave through his tears. He shuffles off to the omega restroom, trying to keep his mascara from running. He sifts through his purse for his little packet of tissues, dabbing at his eyes frantically. The door swings open, and Peter expects Loki and Harley, but the smell of smoke and musky alpha fills the room.

“Shit, Peter, I’m so fucking sorry,” Tony says quickly. Peter just whimpers and cuddles into the alpha’s torso.

“You were right,” He cries, breathing in deep breaths of Tony’s scent. The other boy strokes his curls, shushing him. “And now I don’t have a homecoming date, and all my friends do, and senior year is just going to suck.”

Tony sighs deeply from above him.

“I can go with you, if you want.”

Peter looks up into Tony’s deep brown eyes.

“Are you asking me out, Anthony?” He teases, poking the alpha’s cheek. His eyes widen in surprised.

“No! Not at all. I’m just saying, if you wanted to, I’d be willing to go with you.”

Peter laughs and kisses him.

✨👑✨

Tony’s so fucking nervous.

His hands shake as he grips the stupid plastic corsage box in one, ringing the doorbell with the other.

Mrs. Parker opens the door.

“Tony. Come on in. Peter will be down in a second.” She says with a glint in her eyes. Tony follows her into the apartment, perfectly clean, like always.

“Let me see,” Mrs. Parker smiles, leaning over to look at the corsage in the box. “He’ll love it.”

Speaking of him-

Peter Parker appears at the top of the steps.

Tony’s mouth parts subconsciously. Peter looks-Peter looks stunning. His dress is a cherry red that matches his lipstick, all lace and off the shoulder. He walks down slowly, smoothing the skirt of his dress.

“Peter, oh my god, you look beautiful.” Tony sputters as Peter gives him a peck on the cheek.

“And you look handsome,” The omega responds, thin fingers adjusting Tony’s tie. “You bought a corsage!”

Tony laughs, opening the box and picking up the white rose. He adjusts it on Peter’s wrist as the other boy pins a white boutonniere to Tony’s lapel.

“Perfect,” He coos, pressing another kiss to Tony’s jaw.

Mrs. Parker gives him a quick, threatening talk as Peter uses the bathroom. Peter fake swoons when Tony opens the passenger door to his Audi.

They’re the perfect pair.

They take pictures and dance and kiss and it’s everything Tony could ever dream of. Peter wins homecoming queen, as he should. He looks divine on stage, sparkling tiara on his curls and smiling wide.

“Alpha,” Peter whines, 30 minutes before the dance ends, making Tony’s heart skip a beat.

“Yeah, baby?” Tony responds, grinding his hips forward against Peter’s ass, a quiet ‘oof’ falling from his lips.

“Can-Can we go back to your place? If your parents aren’t home-“

“Fuck yes.”

The car is thick with the scent of arousal, the mixing of their pheromones making Tony crazy. They’re on top of each other once they make it inside.

“Tony, where’s your room?” Peter moans as Tony nibbles on his neck. The alpha doesn’t respond, instead lifts the smaller into his arms. Tony rushes upstairs, making sure he doesn’t drop Peter. They collapse onto the bed, Tony pressing his lips to Peter’s. He tastes delicious, as always, and Tony can’t help but moan. He pulls off of Peter, shucking off his suit jacket as Peter stands up.

“Alpha, can you help undo my dress?”

That phrase sends a jolt of arousal to Tony’s dick.

He obeys, thick fingers tugging the silver zipper down. Peter steps out of the dress, his freckled back on full display, as well as his delectable ass that’s barely covered by white panties. In awe, Tony runs his fingers over the pale stretch marks littering his flesh.

“Is that- are they too gross? Quentin always said t-they were ugly.”

Tony’s speechless.

“No, no, baby,” He coos, spinning Peter around so he can see his face. His doe eyes shine with oncoming tears. “You’re fucking beautiful, you know that? You’re the sexiest goddamn thing I’ve ever seen.”

Peter giggles shyly, flushed.

“Fuck Quentin. He’s a pussy, not a real alpha. He never deserved you. You’re perfect, my little omega.”

They make love.

There’s nothing else to call it-not fucking, not sex. Peter rides him for everything he’s worth, tiny cock leaking against his stomach as his thick thighs straddle Tony’s. The tiara stays on, his curls becoming damp with sweat. Tony doesn’t last long, he pops his knot too early, but he doesn’t mind, since Peter is right behind him.

“Tony?” The omega whispers after Tony slipped out of him and cleaned them up.

“Yeah?” The alpha responds, breath hitting the back of Peter’s neck.

“I fucking like you, Stark.”

Tony laughs, pulls Peter closer under the covers, and kisses him.

[citizenscreen]

‘Tis the season to spread cheer and I’m doing my part by recommending classic movies, paying them forward in hopes that these memorable distractions take people’s minds off negative goings on. I’m asking that you join me, recommend your favorites and #PayClassicsForward on your blogs, by noting your recommendations in the comments or sharing across social media.

Let’s give the gift of movies.

Here’s the challenge…pick movie recommendations to the “12 Days of Christmas” theme as I’ve done below. Keep in mind that movie choices should be those you think would appeal to non-classics fans. Let’s grow our community and #PayClassicsForward

Have fun!

On the first day of Christmas, etc. etc…

One hat

The “one” listing is always a difficult one due to the fact that classics lend themselves to plenty of choices. That said, I came up with a category that encompasses important decades and several genre of film – the fedora. By following the history of the fedora in film you’ll be made privy to the best gangsters, greatest funny men, and most memorable lovers of Hollywood’s golden age. So here it is, a signature fedora:

Note that in researching my favorite fedora portrait I learned that trilbys are often mistaken for fedoras. Since experts seem to be confused between the two types of classic men’s hats that leaves little hope for me. I can’t say for sure whether Bogart is wearing a trilby in the above image, but he may well be. Descriptions of this type of hat explain the rims are shorter than your average fedoras. Either way, it’s a cool, suave look and Bogie rocks it.

From GQ: What’s the difference between a fedora and a trilby?

Answer: Traditionally a fedora has a wide brim and in the UK a wide ribbon band and bow. A trilby has a narrow brim and narrow ribbon, although there are some American trilbies that still have the wide ribbon.

  Two Fairbanks

Things were not simple between Douglas Fairbanks and Douglas Fairbanks, Jr. as it is for many families, but the son wore his father’s name proudly. I chose this father and son combination because if you watch their films you’ll get a healthy helping of everything from silent adventure to pre-code delicacies through some terrific television work. These are careers worth following.

  Three Trios

There are quite a few choices for memorable trios in film including Cattle rustlers Robert Hightower (John Wayne), Pedro “Pete” Rocafuerte (Pedro Armendáriz), and William Kearney (Harry Carey, Jr.) in John Ford’s 3 Godfathers. That one is definitely difficult to pass up. That said, I think the following trios are likely to be looked at less by casual fans and they all deserve attention. These are my choices of trios in movies:

They are such a joy to behold. I remember them fondly from my days as a child watching them on TV. It seemed then that they appeared in a million movies, but that wasn’t the case. Still, these siblings are a joy in films like Buck Pirates with Abbott and Costello and their film debut in Albert S. Rogell’s Argentine Nights (1940). The Andrews Sisters made 17 films, more than any other singing group and all are a terrific way to be introduced to the movies. If that record does not impress you, then maybe this one will: LaVerne, Maxene, and Patty garnered 113 charted Billboard hits with 46 of those reaching the top 10. That’s more than Elvis Presley or The Beatles.

  I have nothing against Disney. In fact, I enjoy their classic animated films immensely. Due to that I’m less than enthusiastic about their constant remakes, which – in my opinion – disrespects those wonderful, older film accomplishments. Today I pay tribute to one of them by way of a trio of glorious characters made in the memorable Disney vein we’ve all come to know and love, that combination of warmth and delightful comedy that permeate those wonderful films. These characters are Princess Aurora’s three good fairy godmothers Flora, Fauna and Merryweather in Disney’s 1959 classic Sleeping Beauty. They alone pay tribute to an enchanting legacy.

“Each of us the child may bless, with a single gift no more, no less.”

  The final mention here goes to three Russian envoys who have arrived in Paris to sell a fortune in jewelry, imperial jewelry, the money of which is to go to the Russian government, which is in need of cash. The three, Iranoff, Buljanoff and Kopalski (played hilariously by Sig Ruman, Felix Bressart and Alexander Granach, respectively) who are supposed to be doing work for the Russian government, immediately get caught up in the excesses of capitalism and fail to sell the jewelry.  Moscow then sends a special envoy to Paris to investigate what’s going on with the trio and the jewelry. The envoy is the rigid and humorless, Comrade Yakushova – Ninotchka (Greta Garbo). The charming Melvyn Douglas plays Ninotchka’s love interest in Ernst Lubitsch’s delightful comedy, but it’s the three envoys in the hands of Ruman, Bressart and Granach that make this movie among the greats in the annals of comedy. I just want to get to know them better and so should you.

Ninotchka with Iranoff, Buljanoff, and Kopalski

  Four Skippy Performances

It’s no wonder this wire-haired terrier was the highest paid canine star of his day. Often referred to as “Asta,” thanks to his successful appearances in The Thin Man movies, his real name was Skippy – and we love him to tears. Although I’m choosing only four of his film performances, Skippy never made a bad movie and starred opposite some of Hollywood’s biggest names. If you keep an eye out for Skippy’s filmography on TCM, you will no doubt be introduced to an astounding talent as well as a terrific movie. It’s guaranteed. My Skippy suggestions are:

Skippy as Asta in The Thin Man movies opposite William Powell and Myrna Loy as Nick and Nora Charles. I can’t imagine you haven’t seen The Thin Man (1934), but may not have given any of the sequels a try. If that’s the case you will be delighted by Skippy in any one of his key performances:

in ANOTHER THIN MAN

in AFTER THE THIN MAN

  Skippy is wonderful as Mr. Smith in The Awful Truth. Worth a custody dispute between Warriner and Warriner played by Cary Grant and Irene Dunne, this time Skippy is required to add straight drama to his repertoire as he is required to choose between his two humans right off the bat. There’s also plenty for him to do on the comedy front, however, so this one is a must-see.

forced to choose between the Warriners in court

front and center in the awful truth

  Skippy as George in Howard Hawks’ Bringing Up Baby opposite Katharine Hepburn and Cary Grant. Another terrific outing for our favorite pooch as he is central to action thanks to his burying abilities.

Holding his own in Hawks’ beloved screwball

  This sequel to Norman Z. McLeod’s 1937 hit Topper lacks some of the charm of its predecessor, but the talents of Constance Bennett, Roland Young, Billie Burke, Alan Mowbry, and Skippy make it well worth your time. Here, Skippy matched Bennett’s ghostly wit by ghostly wit in a role that stretches his talents to matters beyond this world and he approaches it with signature enthusiasm.

so famous he made it into this spectacular publicity photo with Constance Bennett

  Five Lords-a-leaping

No explanation needed.

Cagney

Nicholas Brothers

Kelly

Astaire

Six Vivien Leigh GWTW Tests

Gone With the Wind is celebrating its 80th anniversary on December 15 and, as the biggest, most famous movie ever made, it deserves at least a mention here.

On that day in 1939, Atlanta’s Loew’s Grand Theater was buzzing with Hollywood’s biggest names. It was such an occasion for Atlanta that the film’s opening was a 3-day event as Governor Eurith Dickinson Rivers declared a three-day holiday. Other politicians asked that Georgians dress in period clothing. A lot had happened in Hollywood leading up to that premiere though including the famous search for the film’s leading lady, the protagonist of Margaret Mitchell’s 1936 blockbuster novel, Scarlett O’Hara. Every female star it seems auditioned for the part. Among them were Bette Davis, Jean Arthur, Tallulah Bankhead, Joan Bennett, Claudette Colbert, Frances Dee, and Paulette Goddard who, as stories go, was close to being chosen. As we all know, however, Scarlett went to the lovely, British Vivien Leigh who possessed an outstanding talent. Leigh made the part her own and, along with the film, became tantamount to Hollywood royalty. To honor Vivien Leigh and her memorable Scarlett O’Hara here are six make-up and wardrobe test stills:

  Seven Justices

Judge James K. Hardy in the Andy Hardy movie series

Judge Margaret Turner in The Bachelor and the Bobby-Soxer

Judge Taylor in To Kill a Mockingbird

Judge Weaver in Anatomy of a Murder

Judge Henry X. Harper in Miracle on 34th Street

Judge Dan Haywood in Judgment at Nuremberg

Judge Chamberlain Haller in My Cousin Vinny

Eight Serials

Follow the links to watch episodes of these dramatically exciting serials. It might take a few chapters for you to get hooked, but you’ll get hooked.

The Perils of Pauline (1914) starring Pearl White

The Vanishing Legion (1931) starring Harry Carey and Edwina Booth

The Green Hornet (1940) starring Gordon Jones

Zorro Rides Again (1937) starring John Carroll

The Master Mystery (1918) starring Harry Houdini

Flash Gordon (1936) starring Buster Crabbe

The Phantom Creeps (1939) starring Bela Lugosi

Holt of the Secret Service (1941) starring Jack Holt

  Nine Ladies Dancing

Ann Miller

Ruby Keeler

Eleanor Powell

Lena Horne

Betty Grable

Vera-Ellen

Cyd Charisse

Ginger Rogers

Dorothy Dandridge

  Ten Directors

Watch their movies… live, love, learn, and laugh.

Michael Curtiz

Akira Kurosawa

William Wyler

Fritz Lang

Ernst Lubitsch

John Ford

Alfred Hitchcock

Mervyn LeRoy

Ida Lupino

Lois Weber

  Eleven Movies about Millionaires

Since I recommended movies about hobos in a previous year, I thought the time came for millionaires. There are many wonderful movies about the super rich, particularly during the Great Depression when audiences loved seeing the plight of these people play out for laughs. That theme made for some of film history’s best screwball comedies. The super rich, however, have lent themselves for entertaining movie fare ever since the movies began and in every genre. Check out this terrific list from Forbes spotlighting millionaires in movies.

As for me, I have quite a few favorites with millionaire themes that appeal to most others as well. These include such popular titles as The Philadelphia Story, the shenanigans of the Charleses in The Thin Man movies, My Man Godfrey, The Lady Eve, How to Marry a Millionaire, and movies featuring recognizable names like Charles Foster Kane and Bruce Wayne. For this purpose, however, I recommend lesser known, but worthy millionaire movie stories I’ve watched through the years – some in terrible condition, a few greats, and some for plain ole fun. Here are the 11 rich and classic…

Phil Rosen’s Extravagance (1930)

John G. Adolfi’s The Millionaire (1931)

Clarence G. Badger’s Miss Brewster’s Millions (1926)

Frank Tuttle’s Love Among the Millionaires (1930)

Mitchell Leisen’s Easy Living (1937)

Anthony Asquith’s The Millionairess (1960)

Robert Moore’s Murder by Death (1976)

William Asher’s Bikini Beach (1964)

Walter Lang’s I’ll Give a Million (1938)

George Marshall’s A Millionaire for Christy (1951)

Roy Del Ruth’s Kid Millions (1934)

EXTRAVAGANCE (1930_

THE MILLIONAIRE (1931)

LOVE AMONG THE MILLIONAIRES (1930)

MISS BREWSTER’S MILLIONS (1926)

MURDER BY DEATH (1976)

I’LL GIVE A MILLION (1938)

A MILLIONAIRE FOR CHRISTY (1951)

THE MILLIONAIRESS (1960)

KID MILLIONS (1934)

BIKINI BEACH (1964)

EASY LIVING (1937)

    Twelve Feature Acting Debuts

Some of my favorite and/or most memorable film debuts…

Jamie Lee Curtis in Halloween – effective after all these years.

Orson Welles in Citizen Kane – although Welles’ performance is what I find hardest to like in Kane, I cannot deny its impact and status among characters in film.

Audrey Hepburn in Roman Holiday – appropriate introduction for royalty in film and in life. She charms you from the first moment.

Eva Marie Saint in On the Waterfront – exclamation point to begin a stellar movie career.

Barbra Streisand in Funny Girl – a tour de force and a phenomenon

Peter Lorre in M – brilliant, nightmarish, heartbreaking. Described by director Fritz Lang as “one of the best in film history.” I agree.

Julie Andrews in Mary Poppins – Her debut should have been as Eliza Doolittle in My Fair Lady, but we’ll take this and so did she. Not only did Andrews win the Best Actress Academy Award for her portrayal of the magical nanny, but she won the hearts of the world in the process.

Timothy Hutton in Ordinary People – ordinarily superb.

Angela Lansbury in Gaslight – small part, big impact. Undeniable screen presence.

Edward Norton in Primal Fear – convincing and chilling.

Greer Garson in Goodbye, Mr. Chips – She wanted a worthy role as her screen introduction. She got it. She killed it – as she did from that moment on.

Eddie Murphy in 48 Hours – I love this performance highlighting the scope of Murphy’s talent.

I gave this final topic a lot of thought as there are many worthy contenders. For instance, I’m sure many would choose James Dean’s turn in East of Eden, as big a legend-ensuring performance as there ever was, but it’s not a favorite of mine. Tatum O’Neill’s performance in Paper Moon is another one I considered as were Marlee Matlin’s in Children of a Lesser God and Lupita Nyong’o heartbreaking Patsey in 12 Years a Slave. Finally, I adore Robert Duvall’s debut appearance in To Kill a Mockingbird. And I could go on and on. We just have an embarrassment of riches.

♥

Phew! There you have this year’s movie recommendations. I hope you enjoyed the list and that – in the spirit of Christmas – you take this challenge and…

#PayClassicsForward

Visit previous year’s lists as shown:

2015

2016

2017

2018

The Challenge: #PayClassicsForward for Christmas ‘Tis the season to spread cheer and I’m doing my part by recommending classic movies, paying them forward in hopes that these memorable distractions take people’s minds off negative goings on.

[bewarecreepercomics]

Beware the Creeper #1

First issue in the original six issue miniseries written in 1968. Creeper’s had about three of these over the years, none of them exceeding twelve issues. Well, better a short, comprehensive story than, well...the Clone Saga.

Behind you. The Menace lurks behind you. If you’d just turn around-he blends in only slightly better than you do-he’s got orange on him for godssakes, is he Naruto’s grandfather or something? He is behind you!

Again, not a bad cover at all. No wasted space, an actual background, stuff happening. My only criticisms are that the rain looks like melting icicles instead of rain, and that the colors clash a bit, but hey, Silver Age. Riotous colors were not unusual.

We start out on a dark and stormy night, in which no one sees a green and bright orange ninja scaling a building. Well, it is raining, perhaps there are fewer people on the streets. Sure, I can suspend my belief for that.

This guy is The Terror, and he is going to these great lengths to sneak up on an unfortunate fellow he believes is going to betray him. We get the immediate establishment of this guy as a bad guy. No mysteries here.

I’ve got some bad news for you, sir...

Exactly what you think is about to happen, happens.

Actually, it kind of doesn’t. Yes, The Terror bust right through that window, but how this guy dies is a mystery. Mr. Terror doesn’t shoot him. Doesn’t stab him. It’s implied that he maybe hits him, but just then...

Jack Ryder, you have the worst timing of any man alive.

The Terror kicks his butt. How embarrassing. And then leaves without even bothering to kill him. The insolence!

His poor victim dies of...plot-convenience-itis, but not before giving Jack a list of names to check out. Now that’s spite.

Jack, of course, wants to follow up on this as soon as he can, but is stymied by his boss, who has assigned him to watch over the stations weather girl, Vera Sweet.

Yes, that is seriously her name.

I told you so. Vera is a publicity hound who smokes like a chimney, and has zero respect for our hero. She is also listed on almost every Creeper bio description as his love interest.

There is literally not a single comic in which this is true.

Really. We never, ever see this. The best we ever get on this subject is several mentions in more recent years that they used to go out, but it went bad and now they barely get along. In these original comics, they are practically antagonists.

Meanwhile, the Terror bursts in on a gangster, still dressed like that. Instead of busting into laughter, he gets busted in the face, and the Terror demands half of his rackets profits. And it looks like he’s not the only unlucky mobster to be victimized by the Terror.

Aw, the double-crossers might have been double crossed. I don’t feel sorry for any of them.

Jack ditches Vera at the very first opportunity to check up on those names victim #1 provided. First up, Gerk Kreg.

Try saying that name five times fast. Anyway, for a supposedly successful gangster, it sure is easy for Jack to just walk right into his house. More like succ-sessful, amirite?

Anyway.

It’s so easy for him to get in there that he has to switch to Creeper and bring attention to himself just to get noticed. He also makes the first mention of what is in later iterations referenced as an addiction to Professor Yatz’s serum.

Hey, if throwing up the horns is supposed to be demonic, does throwing down the horns invoke angels?

Of course, a Goon Battle follows. You know the kind. Where these supposed tough guys can barely lay a finger on our hero, and are sometimes so bad at fighting that he can have an entire internal monologue about how awesome he is without even getting interrupted?

Yes, yes, you are the very picture of idealized manliness. And so are your underoos. (Nice buttcheek we got there, thanks Ditko.)

Well, he battles his way through the mob penthouse, stopping only to question a goon, but doing so gets him ambushed and restrained. Let this be a lesson to you; punch first, ask questions later does not work. Punch only, and ask no questions is the way to go!

Gerk Kreg(ugh, why) decides that, before he shoots Creeper, he wants to know who he really is. No, you fool! Didn’t you learn? Punch only! No questions!

In attempting to rip his wig off, we learn something interesting.

That’s right, the molecular rearrangement device doesn’t just change his clothing and administer a dose of serum, it actually fuses that stuff to him. The wig, the rug, the makeup, the suit, none of it can be removed when he is Creeper.

Oh, the implications! The horrible, horrible implications.

Everyone’s startlemant at this revelation gives Creeper a chance to punch his way free and escape. You see! He got the lesson!

Jack thought that Kreg might be the Terror, but didn’t manage to get any proof in that punch-fest, so he moves on to the next name he had been given, that of Hack Axeley, a...private detective? With that name? Could’ve sworn he’d be either a hitman or a lumberjack.

Hack wants nothing to do with any of this, clearly being too busy working out of a closet with a gorgeous window view. Seriously, it is crowded in there.

Jack decides to do as Axeley suggests-go ask Cleary the lawyer. Who promptly runs him out. Not a big surprise there, Jack is no longer a reporter, nor is he a detective. He is small-time TV network security. Buuuut, Cleary’s defensiveness has made Jack suspicious, so he decides to go back in, in costume.

Up the side of the building.

In broad daylight.

Where everyone can see him.

Still wanted by the police.

BrainTrust.jpg

To get away, he hops a few buildings, drops into an alley, and switches back to Jack.

I wasn’t kidding in the previous review, he seriously does this all the damn time. Oh, and now he remembers Vera, and that he has an actual job.

Love interest, everybody!

She wants to punish him for ditching her by making him walk her dog in the rain. Is that all? What the heck is he got to gripe about, nowadays they’d have his job. Again!

Well, he caves, and they head back to his place to grab an umbrella. She might be a shameless fame-seeker, but Vera is no monster! However, the Terror is! And he is waiting in Jacks apartment to get the drop on him, fully armed with the Punch Only philosophy!

He was not, however, expecting Vera’s Shriek Like a Banshee Technique!

The name of the game in this issue is Jack Gets Ambushed. But the Terror makes a run for it, figuring Vera’s screaming will have attracted too much attention. Jack immediately ditches Vera yet again, to chase after him.

Nice working with you Jack.

Forth comes the Creeper, and so commences The Chase! Which takes up the rest of the comic, with one small break.

Here’s a bonus: My favorite panel in this issue. Get a look at those hands. It might be worth mentioning here that Ditko also helped create Spiderman. I wonder if there’s a way we could tell?

No time to contemplate now, time for another ambush!

Gosh darnit Jack, just look behind you every now and again! 

We get a dazzling rooftop fight out of this. There’s fisticuffs! Close calls! And of course...

Ass shots!

The Terror makes his escape. Again. Jack puts two and two together and gets a high value of three. In other words, the Terror waiting at Jacks apartment means that Gerk Kreg can’t be the Terror, because Jack didn’t question him as Jack-only as the Creeper. Only two fellows know that Jack Ryder was researching the Terror, and he decides to drop in on one of them, the misleadingly named Hack Axeley.

Who is just so dead, you guys.

Worried for the safety of the lawyer Cleary, he phones to warn him to stay low, then goes forth to question the late Axeleys secretary, Ida Horn.

Fear his swayed hip! Become powerless before the provocative pose! The distractionary merit of the skimpy outfit is proven yet again!

While she is sufficiently terrified-partially by Creepers questions and vague threats, but mostly by his sexy, sexy photoshoot vogueing- He notices something cleverly hiding behind her drapes.

The Terror is truly a master of stealth. Especially since there isn’t even a window back there.

More brawling for our champion and his nemesis! Oh, but this time, there is a maverick contender!

Kick his ass, baby! No, wait...

Uh...I don’t think that phrase means what you think it means...But whatever, Creeper has recognized the Terror’s voice, and the jig is up! Almost.

Aw, I kinda liked her. It’s too bad her legs have detached from her body. But enough of that! Resume the chase!

Just swinging about in empty space, in a storm, in the darkened city. Badass. But they have been spotted by those who are out for their blood. So now that he’s got him, what does Creeper do?

Freaking publicly unmasks the Terror, revealing him to be Hack Axeleys assistant! Remember? This guy?

He said two words while Jack was there. He was clearly super important and involved, oh yeah. And now his face is uncovered and visible...In front of everybody who wants a chance to murder him. Great job, Jack. This guy is sure to survive until his court date.

No, nevermind, Creeper drops every single one of the gangsters by himself because he’s the title character. How could I forget. The police reap a bumper crop of crooks, and Jack escapes, but not without surveying his work.

He’s not addicted, he can quit any time he wants.

And so our comic comes to an end with Jack and Vera bickering. How romantic.

While this is the first issue of the miniseries proper, it is completely removed from the story as a whole, presenting us only with a mediocre mystery, and a lot of awesome fight scenes. The real story starts next time, in Beware the Creeper #2, coming soon!

[emmetohboy]

Favorites ‘17

Listen: SZA: Cntrl Jason Isbell and the 400 Unit: Chaos and Clothes King Krule: The OOZ Joan Shelley: Joan Shelley Lilly Hiatt: Different, I Guess Kendrck Lamar: Damn JD McPherson: On the Lips Kehlani: Honey Faye Webster: She Won’t Go Away Kota the Friend: Lawn Chair Josh Ritter: Feels Like Lightning Rolling Blackouts Coastal Fever: Julie’s Place Sabrina Claudio: Confidently Lost The Secret Sisters: He’s Fine

My parents didn’t play the radio much in our house when I was growing up. But my grandparents always had it on in there place. A little Realistic brand radio sat in the corner of the kitchen. From its single speaker the voice of Paul Harvey mixed with the songs of Tom T. Hall, Johnny Paycheck and Sammi Smith. This is the wrinkle of my youth into which country music crawled. In college, amidst all of the “alternative" or “progressive” music I devoured I intertwined a healthy dose of Johnny Cash, Patsy Cline and George Jones records. But to this day when asked the horrible question “What kind of music do you like?” I still answer. “Everything. Well everything but Country.”

In 2017 I wove a great deal of what other folks might call country into my listening. But I would venture to guess that none of the tracks, or maybe even the artist at all, found air play on whatever counts as country radio these days.

If Colter Wall wore a baseball hat he might find Country radio airplay. If he wore his T-shirts tight, pronounced “drink” and “drank” the same way and mocked people for “being green” he might be all over the CMA’s. Colter Wall is only 22 years old. The weathered gravel in his voice makes me believe that the water where he grew up in Swift Current, Saskatchewan runs flush with bourbon and smoke the way the water of my youth carried fluoride. "Motorcycle" is the song I sang along to the most this past year. 

“Chaos and Clothes” is the most irresistible track on the newest offering by Jason Isbell and the 400 Unit. And it contains my favorite lyric of 2017. I straight up pilfered “Let’s name all the monsters you killed” as the title for this year’s Autumn compilation.

When Lilly Hiatt opens “Different, I Guess” with the admission "I had a plan to make me look tough.” you just know things did not go as planned. And when she concludes with the same line it closes the song like the cover of a hardback book. I’ve always been a sucker for songs that use the same-line-as-opener-and-closer technique. But I of course had no way of initially knowing how it would end. What so endeared me the first time through was how this little self-defeated line nestled so easily into the rhythm and meter of the verse. And how, by the time she carries us into the chorus, she is straining with both emotion and meter to fit in all she has to say - “I just love you more than anyone I ever have, I guess.” I don’t envy the siblings or offspring of famous creative talent. They are usually greeted with and extra dose of skepticism. Often its warranted. But here the daughter John Hiatt is well on her way to independent credibility.

  Josh Ritter has made frequent appearances here on my lists. This year he returns with The Gathering. While not my favorite Ritter record (that would be The Historical Conquests of Josh Ritter) it is his best in a few years. And when Mrs. OhBoy and I saw him and his Royal City Band play their last U.S. date of the current tour they were phenomenal. On “Feels Like Lightening” Ritter leans right into some classic Johnny Cash/Luther Perkins guitar chugging for my favorite number on the record.

The Secret Sisters would not have raised an eyebrow had their lovely and sorrowful “He’s Fine” poured from the little radio in Nick and Vera’s kitchen all those years back. Their harmonies and storytelling call out from a bygone era and would have settled in seamlessly between ditties from Dolly and Tammy.

An artist who would have made either of my grandparents lunge to turn the dial on a radio is King Krule. But I’ve been enamored since first hearing his 6 Feet Beneath the Moon in 2013.Then his shtick might have been best described as part crooner part bar-fight antagonizer. Since then any listener has been able to hear is maturation as he released a more introspective record under is real name Archy Marshall in 2015 and this past year dropped The OOZ again under the King Rule moniker. The raw, angular guitars now carry a jazzier nuance and his “What you lookin’ at?” vocal delivery of “6 Feet…” now carries a “just hear me out.” authenticity. And the overall instrumental landscapes on The OOZ vary widely creating one of the years most diverse musical accomplishments.

Regarding musical accomplishments, in 2015 I pondered that Kedrick Lamar's “To Pimp a Butterfly” may be just as noteworthy of an accomplishment as an instrumental record. He returns with a much different and straight forward “Damn” this year. There’s a reason Vince Staples calls Kendrick the greatest living rapper. And much more qualified music writers have poured countless words onto his latest effort, in both its original format and the newest “Damn. Collectors Edition” wherein the track list flows in the reverse, and intended order from the original.

Choosing my favorite record of the year is proving to be a bit of a struggle. And I may just have to flip a coin on this one. With absolute certainty the record I listened to most this year, annoyed close friends with energetic adoration for, and searched three Chicago record stores to buy on vinyl for my niece Hallie this Christmas is SZA’s “Ctrl.” The record worked itself into my life the way most of my favorites do. I read acclaim for the effort and downloaded it into my listening rotation. At first I was underwhelmed and didn’t give it much thought. Then one by one, starting with “Supermodel” (notice the  here post from August) the tracks began resonating. Each track took its turn as my favorite and all have an honest narrative approach that sets the record apart from most anything in the genre. I’ve heard the notion that the album is dead. We live in a world of singles. And now the playlist has usurped the album. It may be true. I am as guilty as anyone of being a creature of the playlist. But when a collection of tracks likes “Cntrl” comes along it reinforces the unparalleled experience of one artist, in one work creating a complete musical experience. And it is worth a thousand playlists.

All of my fondness for SZA (Solana Imani Rowe) and her fabulous debut were only reinforced by her performances with solo musical accompaniment.  And by the fact that when she performed as musical guest on SNL, she didn’t rest on her success but rather re-imagined two of her hits and brought a live band and choir to perform them.

So its sounds pretty clear right? SZA. "Cntrl." But 2017 brought a record by a woman who has released three since 2014. And as much as SZA basks in all the freshness of Cntrl, it's well known how difficult it can be to follow up on a break out debut. I once heard an artist lament the pressure that comes after such success, "You have your entire life to make your first record. And one year to make the next.” Maybe the fact, that by no standards can Joan Shelley’s 2012 debut, “Ginko” be considered a success, allowed her to continue to grow into the artist who five years later released her best record. Maybe Joan herself also believes it to be her best record, the best reflection of herself as an artist, and that’s why she eponymously title this collection of eleven gorgeous tracks. I’ve included “The Push and Pull” on this playlist, but without exception I could have chosen any track on the record to prove my point. "Joan Shelley” was released in May of this year. I was immediately enthralled. But not in the way that makes you exclaim adoration to friends. Much more in a way that makes your wife look up from her reading on a Sunday morning and ask “What’s this?” And then twenty minutes later speak again “This is beautiful.”

Sitting here now, looking out the window into the snowy woods of Michigan and thinking about all that I have read and seen and heard this past year it is easy to understand how a quiet little record released back in May could have fallen off my radar. Thank you Nora O’Connor for just last week reminding me of all of the warmth and frailty and magic that is “Joan Shelley.”

Happy New Year.

I have to go flip a coin.

.