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velidewrites · 1 year ago

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When the senator of Chandrila’s debts catch up with him at last, the Galactic Empire places a bounty on his daughter’s head. But Elain Archeron is cunning, and she will not go down without a fight—certainly not to the handsome Mandalorian hunter, intent on claiming his prize.

Notes: Part 1/2 of my contribution to Day 7: AU of @elucienweekofficial! Dedicated to @melting-houses-of-gold who patiently listened to my ramblings about this fic <3

Tags: Alternate Universe - Star Wars, Mandalorian Bounty Hunter!Lucien x Bounty!Elain

Warnings: None (filthy smut in part 2 as I am once again unable to write porn without feelings)

Read on AO3

Part 1

The ship is disturbingly loud.

Elain doesn’t know much about spacecraft, but the sputtering hum of her H-Type Nubian’s engines is concerning enough that she imagines anyone else in her position would feel unsettled. She should have expected the complications—she’d been warned about them, in fact—but she still shifts in her seat uncomfortably.

The yacht has been borrowed to her by Vassa, the former queen of Naboo and a longtime friend—and, for the past four years, a senator within the ranks of the Galactic Empire. Vassa herself had not been present on Naboo during Elain’s stay, called away by what she called a sham of a voting in the Senate, but her people had been informed in advance well enough to take care of the entire process.

Elain Archeron is being smuggled.

It is precisely why she’s been lent the H-Type. The ship is pre-Empire, which means it will—it should—fly under the radar, staying off the Empire’s scopes. It’s not that Elain is a fugitive—not yet, at least—but she has no doubt the Chandrilan government will alert the Senate of her disappearance once they realise Lord Archeron’s daughter has escaped. She isn’t important enough to have Destroyers sent after her, but Elain has never been one to take her chances. Especially not on a day like this.

Especially not on her wedding day.

She has been putting it off since the day she turned fifteen, and it was only the love Lord Archeron supposedly bore for his daughter that kept Elain from an arrangement to be put in place immediately afterwards, as per the Chandrilan custom. Now, though, at twenty-three…Elain had run out of excuses.

The message arrived while she was on Naboo, spending the summer with Vassa as she did nearly every year. A holo-recording of Senator Archeron happily announced her engagement to Graysen Nolan, the only son of Governor Nolan—perhaps the single richest man on Chandrila, Elain’s own family not even coming close in wealth. This will be good for us, Elain, her father said. Finally, the tide turns favourably in our direction.

Elain was not inclined to agree.

Vassa, thank the Maker, had helped her put the plan in motion almost immediately, arranging for safe, undercover passage to the Outer Rim through one of the old hyperspace lanes, abandoned by the Republic during the Clone War. Her intel claimed the route to be safe enough to pass through undetected, which, for Elain, was more than enough.

Graysen Nolan is not old or, superficial as it may be, unattractive by any means. He is quite handsome actually and, as her father so vehemently assured her, quite ridiculously wealthy—but the twenty-eight year old man has a flaw.

He’s an Imperial.

Elain would never dare voice it out loud—in the eyes of the Empire, she is all but a loyal subject, a pretty face to put on Chandrila’s posters and nothing more. But deep down, in a place deep and uncharted like the Wild Space itself, Elain despises them with her whole, insignificant being.

The Senator does not share his daughter’s sentiment, of course—he is a loyalist through and through. It’s what made Elain despise him, too—despise the coward hiding behind expensive gestures and grand speeches. The coward who’d chosen the Empire over his family.

Over the two daughters it had taken from him.

Elain closes her eyes and rests the back of her head against the yacht’s sleek wall, the cool metal doing nothing to ease the pain of the memory. The ship shakes slightly as it charts the course into hyperspace, sending tremors into her bones where it comes into contact with her body. This is one of the crafts with strong deflector shields, Elain reminds herself. As long as they manage to avoid the asteroid field, they will be fine. Probably.

The ship sputters again, and, once again, doubt washes over her in a surging wave. This is probably the fourth or fifth time in the past hour that she’s reconsidered this whole ordeal, the very first one nearly sending her into cardiac arrest as she first saw the ship, the once glistening silver now rusted and peeling off in certain places, as though damaged by battle. It probably was. Elain can’t even begin to count how many attacks on her life Vassa had endured during the Clone War, the controversial Senator constantly the subject of immense interest to the now-extinct Separatist leaders.

She looks around the space, the air suddenly tight. She knows this is going to work—has been assured of it a hundred times—and yet, for some reason, dread continues to build in her chest all the same. Through the wide viewport of the cockpit, even the stars seem to flicker in warning.

“Are we clear?” she asks the pilot nervously.

The pilot, a man Vassa has personally vouched for, half-turns to her from his chair. “We’re calculating the jump, my Lady.”

Elain shifts in her own seat. “How much longer?”

The ground shakes violently before he manages to open his mouth.

Her four guards—or Vassa’s guards, since Elain abandoned her own when she’d sneaked out from her bedchamber’s terrace—jolt upright, white-gloved hands wrapped tightly around their blasters.

“What is happening?!” Elain yells when the floor trembles again, the ship groaning loudly.

All the blood drains from the pilot’s face. “Someone docked in from below.”

Elain’s blood chills. “Impossible.” They couldn’t have realised it yet—she’d purposefully opted to run in the middle of the night, way after the Chandrilan guard conducted their security check. She expected them to find her bed empty in the morning—but not now, merely an hour after her escape.

The commander of her escort looks at his subordinate, his face tight and deep with what seems like thousands of creases. “Check out the disturbance,” he barks, the guard only nodding before he disappears from the cockpit.

“Empire?” Elain asks, the question no more than a whisper. The pilot shakes his head, looking at the beeping controls in disbelief.

“It can’t be—this ship is supposed to be invisible.”

Elain chokes on a breath. “Supposed to?”

The pilot seems breathless, too. “My Lady—”

His words are interrupted by a singular shot of blaster fire as it cuts through the air. Then, a loud thud as a body falls to the metal floor.

Elain yelps.

One of her guards grabs her by the arm, his grip tight enough to crush the veins beneath her skin. “My Lady, we must hide.”

“Escape pods?” Elain pants.

The commander’s expression looks grave. “There are none on this ship.” He looks at the entrance to the cockpit, and a ringing silence ripples through the air as they all realise the guard has not yet returned—which means the body they’d heard was likely not the intruder’s.

“Hide her,” the commander barks to his remaining two men. “Seal the entrance.” And with that, he, too, disappears between the automatic door, the sharp whoosh of it closing foreboding in a way Elain can’t quite describe.

Not a single person in the cockpit dares to utter so much as a breath as they listen in to the commander’s steps, echoing through the passageway. One second passes, then two—then three.

There is a muffled sound of struggle before the blaster is fired again, yet another thud as what is undoubtedly the commander’s body falls to the floor.

What happens next is a blur to Elain.

The pilot sucks in a breath, and the two guards begin shouting at each other, one order after another as Elain is pulled back toward the small storage space hidden under the pilot’s seat. One of the men lunges for the door, his own weapon at the ready as he aims for the control panel. Elain squeezes her eyes shut, preparing for the shot.

Except that when the shot finally comes, it does not sound from her guard’s sleek, elegant S-5—the man hadn’t even managed to raise it toward the source.

No, it comes from a different pistol, rough and heavy, a trail of smoke hissing upward as the man’s body, too, slumps onto the metal.

Elain tears her gaze off her lifeless guard to look into the eyes of his murderer.

What she finds is a face covered entirely by beskar, the silvery helmet glinting even under the dying starlight.

The Mandalorian comes into view, his powerful frame scraping against the blast door as he takes a step forward, the sound as loud as the bodies of the three men he’d killed. Elain’s breath hitches in her chest, as though afraid to so much as graze the faded green of his chest plate, the metal she recognises as durasteel—hardly comparable to the sheer strength of beskar, but enough to keep the laser-like beams from piercing his heart—something many people have tried to do, if the ashen marks staining the armour are any indication.

Elain’s own heart—one she suspects will not keep beating for long—thumps loudly in her chest as the Mandalorian man sheathes the blaster back into his belt, so many weapons strapped to its side Elain struggles to understand how he manages to walk with all that weight. He looks calm as he looks over the cockpit—over the three people still alive and waiting for his next move. Elain cannot explain how she knows this—but she swears she can feel his gaze pinned on her, even with his face hidden behind a black, T-shaped visor.

“Stand down, Mandalorian,” the last of her Nubian guards orders loudly, his blaster pointed straight at the masked warrior.

Elain feels his eyes drift away from her face, like a magnet releasing its hold as he looks over the guard with nothing more than an angle of his head. The man actually squirms under his scrutiny.

“I said,” he repeated, no longer able to hide the slight tremor in his throat, “stand down.”

To Elain’s complete shock, the leather-clad hand hovering above his belt falls loosely down his side. The guard, too, seems to release a breath. “This is a diplomatic mission you have disrupted,” he says. “You will be reported to the Guild—”

“I’m not with the Guild,” the response cuts in. It makes Elain shiver—his voice is low and deep, the helmet’s vocoder modulating it slightly, making it seem like a gravelly rumble from his throat.

Once the shiver passes through her spine, the Mandalorian’s words register. If he isn’t with the Guild…

“Hand her over,” he orders. “Now.” One word—deadly. He does not seem like the man to revel in hiding his threats.

The guard gulps, sensing it, too. To his credit, he still manages to tell him, “We will not.”

The Mandalorian’s vocoder sounds with a low hum, the sound seeping a scorching fire into her bones. “My orders are to leave witnesses,” he finally says, his metal-clad body entirely still like a predator fixed on his prey. “It’s a shame I happen to be forgetful sometimes.”

Elain’s heart threatens to stumble out of her chest. He came here for her, and the men sent to protect her—Vassa’s men—do not need to die trying to protect her from the inevitable.

It’s just her luck, Elain thinks bitterly, that the one and only time she’s ever tried to rebel, she has to be hunted by one of the most ruthless warriors in the galaxy. The Mandalorians are known for their violent ways and brutal efficiency—they are, after all, one of the Empire’s most loyal subjects, having allied themselves with Emperor Koschei the moment he came into power.

Since it isn’t the Guild, then, it must be the Empire who have sent this bounty hunter after her, which could only mean two things: her plot to escape her impending marriage had been discovered by Governor Nolan much earlier than she’d expected, or…

Or Father was in a lot more trouble than he'd originally made it out to be.

“It’s okay,” Elain breathes, placing a palm on the guard’s arm. “It’s okay—I’ll go with him.”

The guard shakes his head vehemently. “No—you can’t my Lady, we have been ordered—”

“It’s okay,” she repeats, then squeezes his shoulder. “Lower your weapon.” She turns to the Mandalorian. “I’m going to walk towards you now. Do not hurt those men.”

The bounty hunter does not move, and so Elain takes this as his agreement.

She takes a half-step—then another, crossing the space on shaky legs. She’s almost there—has almost reached that magnetic presence of his when she hears a light swoosh, and a click of metal.

“Lady Elain, duck!” the guard shouts, and fires his blaster.

Elain whirls back just in time to see him sink to his knees, his mouth agape, the hole in his chest sizzling with that same, smoky trail. She shrieks, running back toward yet another man who’d given his life to keep her safe—when a tight, steady grip on her wrists holds her back. “No more tricks, sweetheart,” his warning comes purring as her back hits the hard steel at his chest. Elain whips to face him again, anger stinging hotly at her eyes. “You said you needed witnesses!”

His helmet moves an inch as he seemingly glances at the pilot cowering in his seat behind her. “One is more than enough.” He jerks his chin at the trembling man. “Deliver the message to the Senator. He has seven rotations.”

Elain starts, “Do not—” but her words are cut short as the Mandalorian yanks her back. “Where are you taking me?” she breathes, her attention transfixed on the rough feel of his leather gloves against her bare skin. “Answer me right now, or I will not follow you anywhere—”

His steps come to a stop so abruptly she nearly slams face-first into his back. Slowly, he turns to look at her, silence passing through them in a tremor before he asks lowly, “No?”

Elain swallows. Hard. “No,” she says, accepting that the word might mean her death.

To her surprise, the Mandalorian lets go, crossing his arms over his chest instead, the silver vambraces clanking against each other with the movement. “Look, sweetheart,” he says, the nickname already making a flaming anger stir in the pit of her stomach, “the way I see it, you’ve got two choices: you either come willingly, or I make you.”

Elain grits her teeth stubbornly. “If you want to collect on your bounty, you’ll have to bring me in alive.”

His hands brace at his hips as he cocks his head to the side, and though the black of his visor is nearly impenetrable, Elain swears she saw a flicker of a smirk. “Lucky for me, my orders weren’t that specific.”

Elain’s blood chills.

“So what’s it gonna be,” he pauses, a hint of mockery in his modulated tone as he adds, “my Lady?”

Elain considers.

If Nesta were here, she would have opposed the Mandalorian without a shadow of a doubt, the cold venom in her words perhaps enough to melt through the beskar itself. But Elain had never been much like her elder sister—and so she thinks of Feyre.

Her heart clenches at the memory of her name, but Elain does not linger—instead, she listens to her sister’s voice the way she remembers it—calm and wise, far too knowing for a seventeen year old Padawan—and yet still unmistakably Feyre’s, blue-grey eyes twinkling with mischief as she spoke. Don’t worry, Elain, she had told her four years ago, they won’t see us coming.

No, Feyre, Elain silently agrees now, a plan already forming in her head. He won’t.

She points at the circular opening in the floor—at the ladder to the ship docked directly beneath. “Lead the way.”

—

Elain finds herself in the cockpit of yet another crumbling ship.

The Razor Crest is even older than the H-Type, the model predating the Clone War by at least four years. She supposes the advantage of staying off the scopes is worth it, though right now, she can’t possibly imagine why the Mandalorian working clearly on the Empire’s paycheck would ever need to avoid it.

She sits a breath’s distance behind him, watching as those leather-clad fingers press so many controls her mind begins to spin as they shoot into hyperspace, the blue-white blur of stars blending together a sight beautiful enough to appreciate even in Elain’s current predicament. The ship is fast, too, no doubt tweaked with improvements over the years. She wonders how long the Mandalorian has owned it, frowning as she realises she doesn’t even know how old the bounty hunter is.

She doesn’t even know his face, let alone his name. She would’ve guessed a bounty hunter of his skill would be renowned all the way to the Outer Rim. “What’s your name?” she asks him, curiosity getting the better of her.

He ignores her question entirely.

Elain huffs. “It is rude to ignore a lady, you know.”

No response.

That familiar frustration stirs inside her again. “If you don’t tell me, I’m going to have to simply call you Mandalorian.” Her lip curls. “Or just Mando, perhaps—”

He turns back to her at that, and Elain realises triumphantly that she’d struck a nerve. “You are not to call me anything,” he tells her gruffly. “And besides,” his seat squeaks slightly and he turns to face the viewport again, “Something tells me that you are no lady.”

Her eyes dig into his back, and Elain sure wishes she could will a burning fire into them right now. When she realises it’s a futile effort, she asks, “Where am I to sleep?”.

“Here.”

“Here?” she frowns, looking at the chair, already groaning under her weight. “Where are you taking me?”

There is a brief pause—as if he’s considering how much he can really tell her. Then, “Chandrila.”

Elain’s eyes widen. “Chandrila?”

There is a raspy sound coming from beneath his helmet that Elain can only take for a chuckle. “I’m not taking you home, sweetheart. Sorry to disappoint.”

Elain squints. “So he does have manners after all.” When her hope of hearing a retort fades away, she asks again, “How long before we get there?”

“Too long.”

“Are you always this infuriating?”

He simply chuckles again.

Elain leans back into her seat. “I’m going to need a change of clothes,” she announces.

A glimmer of surprise passes through the space between them—as if whatever the Mandalorian was expecting, it was decidedly not this. “What?”

“I have to change,” Elain repeats, making a point of gesturing to her Naboo-fashioned gown as he turns to face her again. Then, doing her best to sound as bratty as he surely expects her to be—as everyone expects her to be—she says, “Travelling in these is uncomfortable.”

She looks into his visor, which seems to stare at her blankly. “You can’t be serious,” he then says.

Elain tilts her chin up in challenge. “Have you ever worn a gown, Mandalorian?”

“You know I haven’t,” he grumbles darkly.

“Then you have no right to tell me what’s comfortable and what isn’t. These fabrics are heavy—”

“Beskar is heavy,” he cuts in.

Elain stumbles over a breath, irritated less that he’s thrown her off her track, but more that the bastard Mandalorian is right.

Still, she presses, “You’re a Mandalorian, and I’m not. I demand we stop on the nearest planet so that I may—” she hovers a hand over her form, “adapt to the situation at hand.” She angles her head. “Besides, I’m sure you wouldn’t want me to attract any attention now, would you? I am a Senator’s daughter, after all.”

For a moment, the bounty hunter says nothing, simply leaning back in his seat as he assesses her. She tries not to shift under the stare she knows lurks beneath the helmet, her mind for some reason wondering if his eyes are the same green—or silver, perhaps—as his armour. She immediately dismisses the idea, though—he burns far too hot for his gaze not to blaze with that heat in some capacity. Not that she particularly cares—Elain has simply never had the chance to speak to a Mandalorian before, and those that she had seen had not seemed to share this one’s sentiment to stay perpetually hidden beneath the beskar.

She decides to flat out ask him, then—if only to satisfy that strange curiosity in her chest—when he surprises her again. “Alright,” he says, his visor seemingly focused on the thick folds of her gown. “We’ll make a stop.” Then, he adds, his voice rumbling with warning, “But no tricks, sweetheart. You won’t be able to escape me that easily.”

Elain has to bite back a smile. We’ll see.

—

A mechanically distorted cough stirs her from sleep.

“We’re landing up on Llanic,” he announces, and walks away.

Elain sits up, her back straining from the worn-out leather of her chair, the heavy dress not helping it at all. She curses herself—and not for the first time—for not thinking to wear something allowing more flexibility as she’d dressed in Vassa’s estate. Though, Elain now supposes, that same gown is the only reason she now has the opportunity to escape.

Soon enough, the Mandalorian lowers the Razor Crest onto a landing platform. Despite its proximity to Naboo, Llanic looks nothing like the planet’s vibrant, ethereal ecosystem. Everything here seems dull and grey—even the people opting for garments of pale blues and sulking whites as they move around the settlement.

“Llanic is the smugglers’ den,” the Mandalorian explains, as though reading the thoughts from Elain’s face. “All of this,” he waves a hand, gesturing to the view ahead as they step out of the ship, “is to help them stay out of sight.”

Elain looks to her own dress, the deep amethyst standing out almost ridiculously, already drawing more than a few pairs of eyes. The shiny Mandalorian at her side, Elain thinks with a sigh, certainly does not help.

The last thing she wants is the attention of more criminals.

“We need to get you a change of clothes quickly,” he mutters, making Elain look up at him with a smirk. “I told you—” she starts, but he’s already begun to walk off the platform, his gruff, “No time” her only invitation to follow along.

Her eyes scan her surroundings quickly, noting a cantina farther out back, already humming with a strange music she doesn’t recognise. He leads them left, though, toward what seems to be the market—one crowded enough that Elain can’t help but loose a breath of relief.

It should be easy to get rid of him here, Elain thinks. If, of course, she is quick enough.

Feyre would have thought this to be no more than an adventure. Elain smiles, the thought pouring a surge of courage into her chest.

They stop at an Ithorian merchant’s stand, one of the largest ones on the stony street, as he grumbles something to a bartering customer. Elain begins to fumble through his selection, her mind already tracking her route of escape. She’ll find some other, proper clothes later—the only purpose of these is to serve as her distraction.

She picks up a matching set of a top and trousers of dusted ivory, and a beige poncho to supposedly help her blend in. She’ll have to pick out something similar later if she truly is to disappear.

Elain is already side-eyeing the cantina, the copular structure practically calling out her name far at the street’s end. Perhaps she’ll be able to find a transfer there—someone to get her off-world and, hopefully, as far away from the infuriating Mandalorian and the Empire as possible

A warm, heavy presence appears beside her, and she chucks the clothes into the bounty hunter’s hands. He only stares back, confusion rolling off of him in waves.

She can’t help but snicker. “You’re impossible.”

“I…don’t understand.”

Elain huffs. “Well, my apologies if I forgot to remember to bring my credits as I was being kidnapped,” she sputters, the word making the elderly couple behind the Mandalorian turn to face her with a frown.

“Be more quiet now, would you,” the Mandalorian growls, the sound a deep rumble from his chest.

Elain narrows her gaze. “Just go buy these, yeah?”

He chuckles at the apparent drop in formalities, though his voice remains firm as he reminds her, “Don’t move until I’m back.”

She smiles sweetly, motioning to the streets around her. “Where else would I go?”

He seems to agree well enough, because the Mandalorian soon disappears between the hanging layers of cloth as he moves towards the Ithorian seller. When the familiar glint of beskar vanishes out of her sight, Elain turns and begins to run.

The amethyst dress and the tightness in her back is a strain on her speed, but the adrenaline surging through her is enough to keep her legs moving swiftly. Not for the very first time, Elain wishes she had the lithe speed and remarkable strength both of her sisters have always displayed, their movements carefully supported by the Force.

The thought leaves her as quickly as it arrived as Elain makes a sharp turn, pivoting into a darkened alleyway that she hopes will discreetly lead her to the back wall of the cantina. Her steps slow, as though the silent darkness compelled them to do so—and Elain quickly looks around, letting herself take a breath before she continues on again.

“Not so fast, princess,” a low, hissing voice sounds behind her.

Elain’s feet freeze into the ground.

“Don’t be afraid,” it croons, stepping in closer. “It will all be over soon.”

Elain’s breath quickens.

The man, unmistakably a Trandoshan, slithers beside her, his scaled, greenish skin finally coming into view—but it’s not his appearance Elain finds her gaze glued to, but the long, heavy Mortar Gun resting in his large hands as he points it directly at her face.

“Sssuch a shame,” he muses. “To ruin such a pretty face. But I find myself in a desssperate need of credits, you sssee.” He angles his scaly head, yellow eyes narrowing on her. “The Empire is paying quite the sum for you, little princess. If it was any lower…I might have taken some time to play with you firssst.”

“A shame indeed,” a voice agrees somewhere behind him. “Unfortunately, your time seems to have run out.”

A single shot booms through the air before the Trandoshan evaporates into dust.

A Mandalorian—her Mandalorian, Elain realises—stands a few metres behind where the reptilian bounty hunter stood a moment ago, a forked sniper rifle Elain had never seen before still pointed at the dissipating dust.

“Where did you get that?” Elain breathed. Has he been carrying that weapon this whole time? Could he have turned her into…into this?

He shrugs. “Had it lying around.”

He reaches her in a few quick strides, his head dipping as he appears to be sweeping his gaze over her, assessing. “Are you hurt?” he asks.

Elain shakes her head, her body slowly moving out of stillness. “No.” She clears her throat, begging the Force to bring clarity into her voice. “Thank you,” she rasps, then sighs, exasperated. The Force had never seemed to be her ally, anyways. “I’m…sorry for running.”

He hums. “I knew you would try something eventually. You got lucky.”

Elain blinks. “You would call this—” she gestures to the Trandoshan bounty hunter’s remains spread out over the stone ground, “—lucky?”

He nods, strapping the rifle to his back in one, swift movement. “There are others out there who would not hesitate to kill you on sight. I’d say,” he adds, “you got more than lucky to end up with me.”

“How very fortunate,” she mutters. He only chuckles, though she feels as his gaze lands on her again. There is a pause of quiet between them before he finally asks, the voice behind the helmet softer, somehow, “Are you, though? Alright?”

Elain sighs. “Yes. I’m…” she searches for the word. Tired. Confused. Lost. “Hungry,” she decides.

Another chuckle. “Follow me.”

The cantina beams a more lively song as they enter, though Elain, despite all that thorough education she’d received, can’t seem to recognise the language. They take their seats at a booth stuck into a dim nook before a waiter approaches, his gaze shining with curiosity at the unlikely pair. “What can I get you?”

“Spotchka,” Elain sighs, earning yet another amused huff from her companion. “And—whatever your special is today.”

The man nods. “That would be the stew.”

“Perfect,” Elain says, then turns to the Mandalorian, the waiter, too, looking at him expectantly.

“That will be all,” he says tightly, his tone enough to make the waiter scatter immediately out back. Elain frowns. “Are you not going to eat?”

“No.”

“But—”

“I’m not hungry.”

Elain counters, “I have not seen you eat since you put me on that rusted old ship.”

The visor seems to glower at her. “The Crest is fine.”

“Stop changing the subject.”

“I’m not willing to discuss this, Elain.” She doesn’t think she’d ever heard his name fall from his lips.

Does he even have lips? Elain can’t help but wonder. He appears human, but beneath that armour, he really could be anyone. It’s not that she truly cares about his face—the curve of his nose or the angle of his jaw. But she wants to be able to see if his gaze burns as brightly as she’s been imagining it, like a hot, midday sun.

His tone does not invite such questions, though, so Elain gives up with a deep, long-suffering sigh. “Fine,” she says. “Tell me your name, at least.”

“No.”

“I’m sick of calling you the Mandalorian in my head.”

“Then stop thinking about me, Elain.”

She throws her arms up in exasperation. “You are impossible!”

He seems to snicker at that. “So I’ve heard.”

Elain sinks further into her seat. “Are you able to answer any of my questions, at least?”

He hums, making a show of considering. “Probably not,” he finally said, earning yet another huff from Elain. “But perhaps you can answer some of mine.”

Elain feels her brows rise. “Oh?”

He laces his fingers atop the table. “What has your father done to get the Empire to put a bounty on your head?”

That, Elain did not expect. “I thought bounty hunters were taught not to ask any questions.”

“To their clients. The bounty is a whole another story.”

“How convenient,” Elain murmurs, and, once again, she swears she can feel his smile in her chest. “Very well. If you must know, he borrowed some money—too much of it for me to even begin to describe, and all of it from the wrong people.” She chews on her bottom lip before quickly releasing it from her teeth, a sharp exhale pushing past her mouth. “It’s why my…engagement was arranged in the first place.”

“To the Governor’s son. So I’ve heard.”

“Yes, well, they had money. But look how that turned out.”

“Do you…” his helmet cocks to the side, as though from this new angle, he can read the answer simply by looking at her face. “Do you regret it?”

“No!” Elain quickly says. “Kriff, no—it’s why you found me on the Nubian instead of the planet itself. I was…” she clears her throat. “I was escaping.”

Silence falls, broken only for a moment as the waiter arrives with Elain’s food. She begins digging into the warm stew, realising the conversation has most likely come to an end, the Mandalorian seemingly gazing off into the distance.

But then, a quiet sound reaches her, so indiscernible she initially thinks she must’ve imagined it. “I’m sorry,” he says. “For disrupting your plans.”

Elain flashes him a cryptic smile. “My plans aren’t disrupted just yet.”

—

When Elain emerges from the Crest’s refresher, she finds the clothes she’d picked out at the market laid out on a new cot.

“We’re almost done refuelling,” the Mandalorian’s voice reaches her from where he leans against the ladder leading up to the cockpit.

Elain arches a brow. “What happened to not leaving your side for a moment?”

“Well, I trust you’re not reckless enough to jump out of our ship once we’re in hyperspace.”

Our ship?

Elain dismisses it as her mind playing tricks on her. “Thank you for getting these for me. Believe it or not, but that gown was uncomfortable.”

A grunt of agreement. “It sure looked like it.”

Elain takes the poncho into her hands, her palm smoothing out the fabric. “I’m sorry about nagging you earlier. I—I don’t know much about Mandalorians, I just assumed—”

“You assumed fine.” A deep sigh rattles through him as he bounces off the ladder, stepping closer toward her. “Not removing this,” he points to the shining beskar atop his head, “is my choice.”

Elain dares to ask, “Why, though?”

“Does it matter?”

Yes. No. Maybe.

No, Elain finally decides. Soon—within the next rotation or two, perhaps—the Mandalorian will hand her over to the Empire, a toy to toss over her father’s head. She’ll never have the chance to think about his face again.

Her expression must have told her enough, because his body seems to stiffen as he halts less than five feet away from her.

“Are they going to kill me?” Elain asks him openly.

Silence ripples through the air.

“The Empire doesn’t kill innocent civilians,” he says carefully. Elain can’t help but laugh. “Even if that were true, I am hardly innocent.”

He seems inclined to disagree. “Your father’s mistakes are not your own, Elain.” His words sound deeper than usual as he says them.

She shifts on her feet. “Still, I’m afraid my family’s sins are already beyond repair.” She sighs, a sudden wave of tiredness washing over her, as though the words alone were enough to make her body feel limp. “My…” she can’t say it, her throat tightening on its own as she tries. Elain simply looks away.

But then, a few shallow breaths later, a heavy weight rests on the cot beside her. “My father is the head of an…important clan back on Mandalore,” he begins to tell her quietly. “He’s not a good man—to say the least.” He clears his throat. “I have six brothers, each of them worse than the last, as if they’re all competing to see which one of them can become cruel enough to finally catch Father’s attention.”

Elain turns to look at him at that.

He continues, “I never wanted to be like them—any of them. My mother is the only good thing about my family, and she was the only one not to send bounty hunters after me when I finally left.”

Elain’s eyes widen. “You—you escaped from Mandalore?”

His laugh feels bitter. “There is no escaping from my family. I’m the youngest—not important enough for them to keep on wasting credits to drag me back, but, I suppose, a reminder annoying enough to make my life miserable for as long as they wished.” His hand flickers up for a moment, then falls back onto the cot—as if he was going to run his fingers through his hair before remembering the helmet shielding them from view. “So I cut the best deal for myself as I could—and I’ve been picking up the Empire’s dirty jobs ever since. I don’t like most of them,” he admits, “but…” the words trail off. He does not need to finish them for Elain to understand.

But I’m glad I met you.

It is why Elain tells him plainly, “My sisters were Jedi.”

The Mandalorian goes completely, breathlessly still.

Elain nods. “Traitors to the Republic,” she adds bitterly. “To the Empire. My older sister—Nesta…” she fights back tears at the memory of her icy eyes, softening whenever the two of them got to see each other. “She was—she was on Corellia when…when the Order was given. And Feyre…Feyre was at the Temple on Coruscant.” She swallows the thick words in her throat. “She was—she’s gone,” Elain finishes, unable to speak the full truth. It’s too soon—it will never not be.

Her sisters were discovered late—Feyre at six, and Nesta at ten years old, when all the other foundlings had usually come to the Temple at no older than three. But the great masters had foreseen something in the two of them—something Elain had never quite been able to understand without the Force whispering to her the way it did to her sisters. Something with the potential to change the Galaxy as they all knew it.

Whatever her sisters’ purpose was, it would never be fulfilled. It had never even been given the chance to.

“It’s how I know my father will not come for me,” Elain adds quietly. “When you hand me over to the Empire. He’d aligned himself with them when it took not one, but two of his daughters away. Now, it will take away the third.”

Once again, the ship is enveloped in silence.

It had been so long since Elain had last spoken her sisters’ names that she isn’t sure she’d even talked about them to anyone since their death. The Mandalorian is a quiet presence beside her, strong and warm even through the hardened metal encasing his body. It feels relieving to her to know that he, too, lives in accordance with the Empire’s cruelty not by choice, but by the lack of it, hoping that one day, he will be free enough to leave and never look back.

But then Elain is reminded that neither of them are free just yet—and that, while he might still be able to harbour that dream, it is already too late for Elain. That the only way for him to get a step closer toward it, he has to make sure Elain never gets to reach it herself. There is something about the irony of it all that makes her want to weep—and yet, Elain can’t bring herself to feel angry.

“I hope the Empire pays you well for all of this,” she tells him earnestly.

He turns to face her then—as much as he can with the self-imposed containment of his beskar—and perhaps it is merely wishful thinking, but, for a whisper of a moment, Elain knows with the utmost certainty that she saw a flicker of gold beneath the darkness.

His voice is quiet as he responds.

“Not nearly enough.”

—

Once again, Elain is violently ripped from sleep.

They cannot be landing already—Elain can swear they’ve only just left Llanic’s atmosphere, her face hitting the cot the moment the Crest’s navicomputer was programmed and the stars blurred into a singular light again. Chandrila is still a long journey ahead, at least two, if not three more refuelling stops since the Crest is unable to withstand such a distance on a single tank.

They aren’t landing, Elain understands as the last remnants of her sleep sharpen into reality—into the loud, flaring sound echoing off the ship’s tight space. Into the red light blazing on and off, illuminating her shaky hands as the realisation finally sinks.

The Crest is under attack.

Elucien Week Taglist: @melting-houses-of-gold @areyoudreaminof @fieldofdaisiies @kingofsummer93 @witchlingsandwyverns @gracie-rosee @stickyelectrons @selesera @sv0430 @vulpes-fennec @captain-of-the-gwynriel-ship @screaming-opossum @autumndreaming7 @sunshinebingo @spell-cleavers @starfall-spirit @lectoradefics @this-is-rochelle @goldenmagnolias @labellefleur-sauvage @bookeater34 @capbuckyfalcon @betterthaneveryword @tasha2627 @tenaciousdiplomatloverprune

#breaking news: velidewrites can't write a one-shot to save her life #breaking in the sense that we been knew #elucienweek2023 #elucien #pro elucien #elain x lucien #elain archeron #elain acotar #lucien vanserra #lucien acotar #elucien fic #elucien fanfic #elucien fanfiction #acotar fanfic #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #my writing

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a-small-batch-of-dragons · 6 months ago

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lies are only as good as the person telling them (and you've never claimed to be) part 6

Read on Ao3 Masterlist

Pairings: nolan/john/bishop

Warnings: none

Word Count: 3457

It’s the day of the gala. And where once he would’ve been not-so-secretly thrilled that Nolan couldn’t come with him, now it’s simmering under his skin like a badly healed bruise.

Sarah’s noticed, because of course she has, and she puts her hand on his arm as they’re getting ready to go.

“What if someone comes looking for him,” he mutters, trying to keep his voice low enough that Nolan in the bedroom won’t hear it, “we didn’t move locations the way we should have. Is it safe to leave him like this?”

“If they were going to find us, they would’ve made a move by now. You said it yourself: we lost them enough on the way back that we could afford to stay at least until the next phase.” Still, he sees her glance over her shoulder too. “Besides, he’s a big boy. He can take care of himself.”

He catches the almost imperceptible tremor in her voice and gives her a look.

“Hey!” Nolan’s voice comes from the bedroom. “You guys talking about me out there?”

“No,” they say in unison, which is as good as a ‘yes,’ judging by Nolan’s little chuckle. Sarah rolls her eyes. “We’re leaving now, stay out of trouble.”

“Yes, mother,” Nolan grouses as they walk to the door.

John gets behind the wheel and pulls smoothly into the late-night Parisian traffic. He’s driven these roads so often he practically has them memorized by this point, which is good because when there’s an unexpected detour he know exactly where to turn to still get them to the gala on time.

What isn’t so good is his brain choosing to take that time and focus on the injured Nolan Booth back at their shitty apartment.

Nolan’s caught on to them, at least somewhat. He’s giving them looks now when he thinks they can get away with it; he’s all furrowed brows and tight mouth and puzzling like he’s trying to…well. Like he’s trying to figure out the trick. Only there isn’t one to figure out and he’s not sure he can ever get Nolan to believe that.

He’s already tricked him once. He’s not too egotistical to think he could ever get away with something like that again, even if he was trying, nor is he too proud to admit that yeah, Nolan Booth might be a ship that’s already sailed. Sure, he’s the one that came to them with the idea for the score, and he’s the one who’s been the reluctant go-between for an uncomfortable amount of their contacts, but him? Actually getting to the Nolan behind all the quips and the facades and the walls that he’s still letting them hit?

They might have a better of chance of just walking in and asking if they could have the Mona Lisa.

Sarah’s voice comes from the passenger’s seat when they stop at a red light. Just a quiet hum, but she doesn’t need to say anything else. He sighs and lets himself slump against the seat for a second.

“I’m worried about Nolan.”

”He’s going to fine, John, we won’t be gone long enough for somebody to—“

“Not that.” He rubs his chin. “I mean I’m worried he’s…I’m worried about us.”

Sarah falls silent as the light turns green. He presses them slowly back into the sea of traffic. It takes three more intersections for her to speak again.

“We can’t exactly blame him, we did con him.”

“I know.”

“And we did it by establishing a level of intimacy with him that would be difficult to achieve again.”

“I know.”

“He probably thinks it’s another scheme.”

“I know,” he says, a bit more bite in his voice, “I know that, Sarah, I do. And I know he’s probably thinking the same thing. But this isn’t a scheme.”

He glances at her as he turns and sees the thoughtful wrinkle between her brows reappear. “He’s not going to believe us, not without some sort of proof.”

“We can’t prove a negative.”

“I know.” She turns to stare out at the passing lights as they near their destination. After a second a small smile comes to her face and she huffs a laugh.

“What?”

“I can’t help but think whether this would have been easier if one of us took a bullet for him.”

“Nobody else is getting shot,” John says automatically, but it’s already done what she wanted it to.

What would’ve happened if he or Sarah took a bullet for Nolan? Would they have? He’s the likelier of the two of them, probably shoving Booth out of the way and catching the stray shot in his shoulder. But then would come the exclusion, shutting Booth out even more while Sarah patches him up, her anger at his being hurt redirected at Booth for allowing it to happen. His own gruffness sharpening in an effort guilt Booth into…what? Being less himself? And with Sarah…his hands tighten reflexively on the wheel as he remembers the things he’s done to people who dared touch her, and what he might do to Booth if he were any sort of scapegoat.

“I don’t think we would’ve realized,” he says eventually, “I think it would’ve made things worse.”

Sarah hums. “Perhaps you’re right.”

As they get closer and closer to the mark’s event, he forces himself back into mission mode. There will be time to think about Nolan Booth later. For now, it’s game face time; there’s no use in thinking about what to do after the heist if they don’t get the whole thing off the ground in the first place. Beside him, he can feel Sarah sitting up a little straighter, her icier mask falling into place over her features. They join a long line of cars trailing down the block toward a blood red awning, accompanied by several masked guards and a host in long white gloves.

“Is that him?”

“That’s the checkpoint. If our aliases don’t get us past here, we’re screwed.”

“They will,” Sarah says with a comforting confidence.

John takes a deep breath and squares his shoulders.

Time to go to work.

***

Count Evon Madripoor does not spare any expenses. The hall is lavishly decorated, bordering on the ostentatious; crystal chandeliers hang from the ceiling, garlands of ivy and wildflowers forming a pseudo-vaulted look over glittering tables and an actual marble dance floor. There’s a full orchestra up on one of the landings, a conductor with an earpiece talking to someone on the dance floor. Across the way are the doors to what must be the kitchens, suited-and-booted waitstaff carrying plates laden with lobster, steak, expensive dishes the likes of which could probably finance an entire school district. It’s gloriously hedonistic and it makes no small part of John want to spit.

But of course, Arthur and Roxanne DeVale do not spit at the celebrations of their fellow elites, and so they saunter into the midst of the crowds. Sarah’s picked her dark blue dress for the evening, the one that has the tiny crystals in the skirt that make her look like some evening goddess. Another diamond sparkles at the point between her collarbones, two more from her ears. Her hair cascades over one shoulder, hiding the earpiece, the open back distracting from the slight indentation at her covered leg where the holster sits. His own suit has diamond cufflinks and tie pin, charcoal gray covering a night-black shirt. The two of them move through the throng of party-goers until they reach an unoccupied table, sitting and examining the menu in front of them. A waiter quickly comes over and offers them a wide variety of liquor to choose from.

“Gin and tonic,” Sarah orders smoothly.

“Whiskey. Neat.”

“Right away, Monsieur, Mademoiselle.”

He darts off into the back and John turns to casually survey the room for anyone who might resemble the Count. He spies a few people that fit his rough description, but no luck.

“He might not be here yet,” he murmurs to Sarah as they both feign consulting the menu, “rich jerks always like to make an entrance.”

“There’s a staircase at the far end.” She indicates the carpeted marble with a slight turn of her head. “That might be where he comes from.”

“Any idea when?”

“The official start time of the party was about forty five minutes ago. I’d say anywhere from the one to one-and-a-half hour mark.”

That gives them at least fifteen minutes to make themselves as inconspicuous as possible. They’ve faced far worse odds.

The waiter comes back with heir drinks and a bread bowl while they consider their meal options. Sarah refrains from taking any, elegantly sipping from her drink as her eyes travel the room. John takes a single roll, breaking little bits off to eat every once in a while. In accordance with Sarah’s prediction, it’s almost fifteen minutes later exactly when the orchestra gives a sudden musical flare and a spotlight appears at the top of the staircase.

Count Madripoor is as disgustingly overblown as John expected, right down to the golden buckles on his shoes and the gemstones inlaid along the collar pins as he spreads his arms wide.

“Friends, old, new and yet to be made, welcome to my humble little get together.”

A polite titter goes up amongst the crowd.

“Eat, drink, and be merry. Life is for the living, after all, and we have our debt to settle with the reaper upon our passing!”

He claps his hands and the orchestra strikes up again. John and Sarah each exchange a glance before casually arranging themselves to highlight the lack of food on their table. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the count making conversation with more than a few people, shaking their hands and gesturing about, slowly making his way around to the tables. Sarah finishes her drink as he approaches, arching her back just a little to send a surreptitious glance over her shoulder.

Sure enough, it takes barely another moment for the count to make his way over to their table, the faint smell of wood smoke following him.

“It seems a disgrace that there are two such fine faces at my party and I have not the faintest idea who you are.” He bows slightly. “Evon Madripoor, your humble host.”

“You are too kind,” Sarah demurs, looking every bit the blushing maiden, “Roxanne DeVale, the honor is mine.”

”Ms. DeVale. A lovely name for a lovely woman.” He holds his hand out for hers and places a chaste kiss on the back. “And you, my handsome friend?”

“Arthur DeVale. You sure know how to throw one hell of a party.”

“Ah, well, when one is born with more money than can be spent in a single lifetime, that doesn’t mean one shouldn’t try. I notice your table is comparatively empty, is none of the food to your liking?”

“To be honest, we have been struggling to choose.” Sarah peers around and leans a little closer. “And your portions look too generous for me.”

“If I may, Mademoiselle, life is too short not to enjoy good food. But if it is a smaller portion you desire, then of course it shall be made. If you are truly stumped for options, might I recommend the Chef’s delight?” He points to one of the entries further down the menu. “She has been refining her techniques for many years.”

“That sounds wonderful.”

“And for you, Monsieur, do the portions daunt you as well?” The count gives him a smile that’s too intentional to not be flirtatious. “Or is there something else that keeps you from a decision?”

“I’ve had a range of these dishes before,” he says, feigning aloofness, “I’m looking for something more exemplary.”

“Might I suggest the third of the dinner platters, then. A delicacy I assure you that you would not find anywhere else.”

“Are you bothering guests into trying things again?”

They turn to see a graceful woman in a black and white suit glide up to them, giving the count a look before nodding to them both.

“Forgive him his enthusiasm, if you would be so gracious.”

“Anastasia DeVeaux,” the count introduces, “my major domo and the only reason this party is as successful as it is.”

”We’ll take your suggestions,” John says, nodding to her, “nothing to forgive.”

She nods and a whole crew of waitstaff ready themselves. She gives the count one last look that John can’t quite decipher before vanishing back into the crowd.

“If it is not too much an imposition,” Sarah asks, “would you be so kind as to join us? We could hardly bear to keep you from your celebration but—“

“Nonsense,” the count says, waving a hand, “I would be honored to. Come, come, let us talk and drink! I notice your drinks are nearing empty, come, let us get you refilled.”

What passes next is…surreal. Their food comes and admittedly, it is delicious. The count takes no small amount of pleasure in seeing how much they both enjoy it, ordering a dish for himself and engaging them in polite enough conversation. He doesn’t seem to care when they’re a little cagey with their responses, launching off into ludicrous tales of his own to give them time to eat or to decide what it is they want to say next. In a word, it’s pleasant, yet there’s this itch at the base of his spine that he can’t get rid of.

It’s when the count just about makes an innuendo that he realizes what it is: he’s leaving space for Nolan.

The pauses he and Sarah are leaving every once in a while are for his stupid quips. The laughs they feign are so he can make up the next part of the story with some playfully fond insults that he only half-means. The glances they shoot at each other stutter about halfway through because they’re missing the other person to look at. They look for him now, and the realization makes him take an extra sip of his whiskey.

This could be bad. This could be very bad.

“Well,” the count proclaims, throwing aside his napkin, “I do hope your appetites have been thoroughly satisfied?”

“You did not offered undeserved praise, you used is indeed a master.”

“Could you be tempted to a spot of dessert?”

“Not at the moment, I fear,” Sarah laughs, holding a hand to herself, “I’ve already eaten my fill.”

“And yourself, Monsieur?”

John fakes a laugh and waves his hand, mirroring Sarah’s posture. The count simply laughs and acquiesces, getting to his feet.

“I have often found that a bit of mild exercise aids in digestion,” he says, adjusting himself and bowing again, “if you would do me the honor?”

John glances at Sarah. She nods. He inclines his head and gestures to her. “Please, as long as she wants.”

“Oh, forgive me. Although I am sure the Mademoiselle is lovely—“ and here he bows again to Sarah— “I did hope that you would deign to accompany me.”

Oh.

John blinks. The count is still waiting patiently, his hand extended, and all he can hear is Nolan’s voice in his head saying I didn’t mean walk like you were going to ask me to dance.

He swallows, forces himself to smile, and takes the count’s hand.

The count leads him to an open spot of the dance floor. To John’s surprise, no one looks twice at them. The count steps carefully into his space, as if expecting him to back out t any moment, and holds out his hand once again.

”I guess that you’d be more accustomed to leading?”

“If it’s not too presumptuous of me.”

“Of course,” and he steps easily into the follower’s position, “I would be delighted.”

The count is a…well, he’s a good dancer. He doesn’t quite have the body type John’s used to leading, but he moves as easily as any dance partner he’s ever had. The only thing is that, well, now Nolan’s voice is really loud.

“Monsieur,” the count says after a few minutes turning about the floor, “if I may be so bold?”

“It’s your party, I’d say that gives you the right.”

“You are too kind.” He wets his lips and sighs. “I will be blunt. Am I a stand-in for the evening?”

John blinks, swallowing his panic with practiced ease, playing surprised instead. “A stand-in? How could you be a stand-in?”

“You and the Mademoiselle. You both act as if you are missing a piece.” He inclines his head back towards Sarah. “I am not intruding, am I? There is not a third waiting for you both?”

“No, you’re not intruding. He—“ John realizes his mistake a moment too late, but the count gives him a gentle prompt to continue and stopping now would only be more suspicious. “He was supposed to come but he couldn’t make it.”

The count makes a sad noise. “A pity, indeed. I would have liked to meet the man who could successfully charm both of your hearts.”

A sudden image of Nolan’s face makes his step falter. The court catches them easily before they bump into another couple, making it look as though John is the one steering them out of the way.

“Unless…he does not know?”

John swallows. “It’s complicated.”

“Life is complicated, Monsieur. Very few things easily gotten are worth their getting.”

“We hurt him,” John hears himself saying, “I don’t think he trusts us anymore.”

“Ah. Well. That is complicated.” The count shakes his head. “Did he know before?”

“No.”

“Truly complicated. You, Monsieur, are not one for understatement.”

John hums. They dance for a little longer until the count shakes his head.

“Life is too short, Monsieur. Too short to let complications deter you. I ask you now, regardless of the complications, or the history, does he hold your feelings? And the Mademoiselle’s?”

He thinks about the shitty apartment. He thinks about Nolan’s blood still on the back seat of the car. He thinks about Nolan’s face when he asked him to dance, how heartbroken and betrayed he looked on that beach, how he lit up when they found that vault in Argentina, how he looked when he held him out over the train tracks, and how terrified he’d been when Nolan got shot.

Fuck. Fuck, he does. God, he does.

The count smiles when John manages one jerky nod. “I implore you, Monsieur, tell him. If he is the kind of man who could charm the both of you, he is a good enough man to hear you.”

“Thank you, Count,” John says, and he surprises himself with how genuine it is.

“Please, you must call me Evon.”

“Thank you, Evon.”

Evon grins. “Tell you what: I am having another little party in a month or so, at the Louvre. Bring yourself, the Mademoiselle, and this other man, hm? Let me see the three of you with my own eyes.”

“That sounds like a plan.”

John tells Sarah. Of course he does. It’s the second thing out of his mouth as soon as they’re in the car and driving back to the apartment. Sarah just looks at him, reaches across the console to squeeze his hand, and smiles. The cocktails churn in his stomach as he puts the car in park and gets out. Sarah’s heels click behind him as he makes his way to the door, taking one deep steadying breath before pushing it open.

“Booth? We’re back!”

No response.

”Booth?” Sarah quickly comes in, drawing her gun and glancing around. “Are you alright?”

Nothing. John bites back a curse and looks around. Sarah keeps moving toward the bedroom—no sign of forced entry, no trace of the windows being opened or anything, all their stuff is still where they left it, safeguards and all. Maybe he’s passed out in the bedroom? Did his stitches pop and he could’ve fix it? Is he—

“He’s gone,” comes Sarah’s too clipped, too calm voice, “all of his things are gone.”

John races to her side and finds her staring down at a piece of paper. He leans over her shoulder. It’s the address Arlo gave them to pick up the forgery with the time and code words. Drawn under it in pen is a pawn lying on its side like the king at the end of a game of chess.

John just stares at it.

Fuck.

Nolan’s gone.

“We need to get him back,” he hears himself say from miles away, “we gotta get him back, Sarah.”

“I know,” she says, her voice still too even, “don’t worry. We will.”

He wishes her confidence brought him comfort.

#dragonbabbles #fic #red notice #the bishop #sarah black #john hartley #nolan booth

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shehungthemoon · 10 months ago

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Ty for the tag @vera-dauriac! 💗It's been weeks with this in the back of my mind and I'm finally getting around to it (also bugs have been going around like wild, i hope those fluids worked quickly!)

Tag Game: 9 People You'd Like to Get to Know Better

-`♡´- last song:

fingertips by lana del rey

-`♡´- currently watching:

Waiting on the third episode of True Detective season 4 to come out tonight! ❄

-`♡´- three ships:

Ahhhh I'm not really OBSESSED with a certain 3 right now, so I'll just list the last 3 ships I bookmarked for on ao3!

Sonny Corleone/Tom Hagen from The Godfather

Trapper/Hawkeye from M*A*S*H

Marcus Keane/Tomas Ortega from The Exorcist (TV)

So we've got 70s mafia power plays, weird dramedy angst, and religious horror soulmates. Quite the list haha

-`♡´- favorite color:

Cool shades. At the moment, powder blue! 🩵

-`♡´- currently consuming:

Water + orange 🍊

-`♡´- first ship:

Probably percabeth from the PJO books!

-`♡´- relationship status:

single (much needed!)

-`♡´- film:

A favorite film? That goes to Christopher Nolan's Inception without a doubt! A lot of his work is special to me, including Tenet (which completely pulled the wool over our eyes and gave us a River Song lovestory with NO warning, tears were welling) and Interstellar (which as an astrophysicist it was NOVEL to see so much sci-fi accuracy on screen, and of course my physics grandfather Dr. Kip Thorne was a big consultant so I'm proud by proxy.)

-`♡´- currently working on:

Fandom wise, I'm finishing up a Green Lantern/Flash secret santa from dc comics! 🎅

Life wise, working on applications to get another degree. Phew 🤓🤪💀

Tagging: @adizzyninja @mihrsuri @scare-ard--sleigh @midnightestsun @dantaliones @billowypantss @ellena-asg @mirabilefuturum @sjwromanroy

#tag game #🌻#true detective #christopher nolan #lana del rey

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onlythebravest · 1 year ago

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H, J, O? <3

hii, and thank you!!

H - What is your favorite source text for fandom stuff (e.g., TV shows, movies, books, anime, Western animation, etc.)?

i mean, considering that the fandoms i'm currently active in are both rpf, then i guess i have to say real life? 😂 but I'm trying to think about other fandoms I've been active in, and i think most of them started in books, one way or another. even if the fandom itself was revolving a bit more around the movie adaptations, i'd go with books. unless real life counts (which I'm not sure), then that's the one i'd go with

J - Name a fandom you didn’t think about until you saw it all over Tumblr. (You don’t have to care about it or follow it; it just has to be something that Tumblr made you aware of.)

that i didn't think about? what does that mean, really? bc nowadays i assume there's a fandom for everything, but it's not like I'm aware of it? more, i wouldn't be surprised this has a fandom. so idk if this counts but i didn't think about the supernatural fandom at all until it was all over my dash ten-ish years ago. does that count?

O - Choose a song at random. Which ship or character does it remind you of?

hm.... again, idk if this counts, but All Night Long by Lionel Richie reminds me about tknp (hockey players travis konecny & nolan patrick) bc there's this video of them dancing to it in the locker room after a game 😂 one direction songs obviously makes me think of them. but otherwise, no. or wait, did i misinterpret the question? should i just have grabbed a song, listened to it and then answered the question? if so, too bad bc I'm watching a movie 😂

different fandom qs (or just send me a letter from the alphabet)

#fandom and ships qs #ash #thank you!!

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stephanieinge · 2 years ago

Link

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Nolan Ryan George Bush George H. W. Bush Framed Photo Laser Signed Autographs.

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brokehorrorfan · 4 years ago

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Blu-ray Review: King Kong (1976)

The recent release of Godzilla vs. Kong revived the age-old debate about which giant monster is superior, but it's not exactly a fair fight when you consider their respective quantity of output. By the mid-1970s, Godzilla had already appeared in 15 films, while King Kong only had a mere four to his name: the 1933 original, its same-year sequel Son of Kong, the 1962 crossover King Kong vs. Godzilla, and its 1967 followup King Kong Escapes.

The first remake of King Kong arrived in 1976 at the behest of Italian producer Dino De Laurentiis (Dune, Flash Gordon, Army of Darkness). Lorenzo Semple Jr. (Flash Gordon) was hired to pen the script, based on James Ashmore Creelman and Ruth Rose's original screenplay, and John Guillermin (The Towering Inferno, Death on the Nile) assumed the director's chair. Richard H. Kline (Star Trek: The Motion Picture, Soylent Green) served as cinematographer, while John Barry (Dances with Wolves, Goldfinger) composed the score. The plot largely follows the same beats as the 1933 version, although some alterations and expansions were made along the way.

Hoping to sail into the history books with the biggest oil strike in history, oil magnate Fred Wilson (Charles Grodin, Midnight Run) leads an expedition to an undiscovered island in the Indian Ocean hidden by a perpetual fog. Paleontologist Jack Prescott (Jeff Bridges, The Big Lebowski) sneaks aboard the vessel, as he believes an animal occupies the island. In the middle of the ocean, the ship happens upon a life raft with struggling actress Dwan (Jessica Lange, American Horror Story), who quickly hits it off with Jack. Upon arriving at its destination, the crew discovers that the island is not uninhabited when they interrupt the native's ritual. The tribesmen proceed to kidnap Dwan and offer her as a sacrifice to the giant primate known as Kong.

The big reveal is impressive considering the limitations of the time. Per the closing title card, Kong was designed and engineered by Carlo Rambaldi (E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial, Alien), who also constructed it with Glen Robinson (Logan's Run, Flash Gordon), with “special contributions” by Rick Baker (An American Werewolf in London, Men in Black). Since Rambaldi's attempt at a full-scale electronic Kong failed, however, the majority of creature work is accomplished with Baker in a costume with mechanized masks. It's fairly convincing as such, although the seams of the composite shots are clearly visible in high definition. Perhaps more than any other kaiju, it's important for Kong to be expressive, and this iteration successfully conveys pathos.

Semple's script drops the filmmaking angle from the original plot yet retains that the female lead is an aspiring actress and the human antagonist wants to exploit Kong on stage - which, smartly, becomes a corporate-branded event here. Kong only fights one monster on the island - a bloody battle with a giant snake - but his path of destruction in New York is much grander, rivaling and often upstaging the Godzilla films of the time. Instead of the Empire State Building, Kong is drawn to the then-new World Trade Center this time around, as the Twin Towers parallel his habitat, leading to his tragic downfall and a brilliant final image.

After Barbra Streisand passed on the role of Dwan, De Laurentiis sought to pluck an unknown actress from obscurity and make her a star. He did just that with Lange, who receives an "introducing" credit. It's easy to see why she won out over innumerable other aspiring actresses, as she radiates on camera, and her naivety works to the advantage of her character. Bridges is serviceable as the leading man and has good chemistry with Lange - but the film's focus is, rightly, on Kong and Dwan. Their bond is palpable, although the sexualization of their relationship is an odd choice.

While the supporting roles are largely one-dimensional, they're filled by a number of keen character actors: John Randolph (Christmas Vacation) as the ship's captain, Ed Lauter (Family Plot) as the first mate, Rene Auberjonois (Star Trek: Deep Space Nine) as a geologist, Jack O'Halloran (Superman) and Julius Harris (Live and Let Die) as oil drillers, Dennis Fimple (House of 1000 Corpses) as a crew member, John Lone (The Last Emperor) as the cook, John Agar (Revenge of the Creature) as a city official, Walt Gorney (Friday the 13th) as a subway driver, and a young Corbin Bernsen (Psych) and Joe Piscopo (Saturday Night Live) as uncredited reporters.

King Kong has been released on Collector's Edition Blu-ray by Scream Factory with reversible artwork featuring a new design by Hugh Fleming and John Berkey's classic poster. The two-disc set includes the 134-minute theatrical version and the 182-minute TV cut, with its additional footage newly scanned in 2K from the internegative. (NBC paid De Laurentiis $19.5 million for two showings; the highest amount a network ever paid for a film at the time.) It features DTS-HD 5.1 and newly restored theatrical DTS-HD 2.0 stereo audio options.

This version of King Kong lacks the awe-inspiring spectacle of the three other major iterations (the 1933 original, Peter Jackson's 2005 remake, and 2017's Kong: Skull Island reboot), but it has moments of greatness that shine in high definition. De Laurentiis successfully spearheaded a sincere remake that shows reverence for the cinematic icon, and the theatrical cut is smoothly paced despite the lengthy runtime. The TV version doesn't fare as well, as it's padded by nearly an hour of additional footage (along with trims to the more crude sequences). They do little to add plot points, character depth, or anything else of potential value; instead they serve only to fill a programming block at the expense of the pacing. Still, it's nice to finally have a restored version for diehard fans.

King Kong: The History of a Movie Icon author Ray Morton provides a new audio commentary on the theatrical cut. It's very dry but full of information, especially when it comes to the drama between Rambaldi and Baker over the creature design. Having "outgrown the boundaries of a featurette," per disc producer Justin Beahm, an interview with Baker was turned into a second commentary. It's not as long as the whole film, which is fine, but it frustratingly forces the viewer to sit through gaps of the film's audio while awaiting the next soundbite rather than presenting it all in succession. It's unfortunate but worthwhile, as there's a lot of firsthand insight.

Beyond that, there are over 45 minutes of new video interviews with O’Halloran, assistant director David McGiffert, production manager Brian Frankish, sculptor Jack Varner, second unit director William Kronick, photographic effects assistant Barry Nolan, and production assistants Jeffrey Chernov and Scott Thaler. Most are conducted over video chat with mostly fine results (O’Halloran's picture quality is particularly bad), although a few are traditional on-camera pieces, and some subjects are paired together. They all seem proud of their contributions and happily share anecdotes about working on the massive production, even if the experiences weren't always positive.

Other special features on the first disc include the theatrical trailer, seven TV spots, three radio spots, and four still galleries (stills, posters and lobby cards, newspaper ads, and behind-the-scenes photos). The TV cut disc, meanwhile, sports an hour-long panel with Baker, O’Halloran, Kline, Dino De Laurentiis' widow Martha, and Barry's agent Richard Kraft, from a 2016 event at Santa Monica, CA's Aero Theater. Hosted by Morton, it's an entertaining and informative discussion.

King Kong is available on Collector’s Edition Blu-ray now via Scream Factory.

#king kong #kong #jeff bridges #jessica lange #rick baker #carlo rambaldi #scream factory #dvd #gift #review #article #john guillermin #dino de laurentiis #kaiju #king kong 1976

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peashooter85 · 5 years ago

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44 Years Ago Today — The Sinking of the Edmund Fitzgerald,

At over 700 feet long and with a dead weight tonnage of 26,000, the SS Edmund Fitzgerald was the largest freighter of the Great Lakes in the 1960’s and 70’s. However the Edmund Fitzgerald would go down in history as a doomed ship, its fate foreshadowed when it took three blows to break a champagne bottle on her bow at her christening. From 1958 to 1975 the Edmund Fitzgerald hauled iron ore from mines in Duluth, Minnesota to iron and steel mills in Detroit, Toledo, Buffalo, Cleveland, Chicago, and other Great Lakes ports.

On November 9th, 1975, the Edmund Fitzgerald set off on a run from Superior, Wisconsin to a steel mill in Detroit. The next day the Fitzgerald was caught in one of the worst storms in Great Lakes history, with waves over 35 feet high and hurricane force winds. At 3:30 PM the Fitzgerald reported that it had sustained topside damage and was heading for safe port in Whitefish Bay, Canada. 40 minutes later the Fitzgerald requested radar assistance from a nearby ship, the Anderson, as she had lost radar capability. By 6:00 PM the Fitzgerald reported,"I have a bad list, lost both radars. And am taking heavy seas over the deck. One of the worst seas I’ve ever been in." The Anderson continued to guide the Fitzgerald into Whitefish Bay, until it was itself struck by a large wave and force to seek safe harbor. At 7:00 PM the Fitzgerald sent its last radio signal reporting, "we are holding our own.” By 7:30 the Fitzgerald had disappeared from radar screens and no longer responded to radio calls.

The Edmund Fitzgerald took all 29 crew with her, leaving nothing behind but an oil slick and some assorted pieces of wreckage. Four days later the wreck was discovered using sonar, located 530 ft below Lake Superior. She was only 15 Nautical Miles from Whitefish Bay and safety. None of the crew’s bodies were ever recovered. After most shipwrecks, gas from decay causes corpses to float back to the surface. With an average temperature of 36 degree F (around 2 Celsius), decay is prevented or delayed, causing corpses to remain on the lake bottom. Thus it is said Superior never gives up her dead. Over the coming decades the wreck has been studied and surveyed, with numerous theories offered as to the reason for its sinking. The most prominent feature of the wreck is the fact that it had been ripped in half, either before of after its sinking. It is often suggested that the Fitzgerald was overloaded, causing large waves to create stress fractures on the Fitzgerald’s hull. According to the Anderson the Fitzgerald faced three rogue waves in succession, a phenomenon known as “The Three Sisters”. Numerous other factors are to blame for the Fitzgerald’s sinking.

After the sinking of the Edmund Fitzgerald and to this day the Mariners Church in Detroit maintains the tradition of ringing the ship’ s bell, which had been recovered from the wreckage, 29 times in honor of the 29 dead crewmen.

McSorley, Ernest M. Captain

McCarthy, John H. 1st Mate

Pratt, James A. 2nd Mate

Armagost, Michael E. 3rd Mate

Holl, George J. Chief Engineer

Bindon, Edward F. 1st Asst. Engineer

Edwards, Thomas E 2nd Asst. Engineer

Haskell, Russell G. 2nd Asst. Engineer

Champeau, Oliver J. 3rd Asst. Engineer

Beetcher, Frederick J. Porter

Bentsen, Thomas Oiler

Borgeson, Thomas D. AB Maint. Man

Church, Nolan F. Porter

Cundy, Ransom E. Watchman

Hudson, Bruce L. Deckhand

Kalmon, Allen G. 2nd Cook

MacLellan, Gordon F. Wiper

Mazes, Joseph W. Spec. Maint. Man

O'Brien, Eugene W. Wheelsman

Peckol, Karl A. Watchman

Poviach, John J. Wheelsman

Rafferty, Robert C. Steward

Riippa, Paul M Deckhand

Simmons, John D. Wheelsman

Spengler, William J Watchman

Thomas, Mark A Deckhand

Walton, Ralph G. Oiler

Weiss, David E. Cadet (Deck)

Wilhelm, Blaine H. Oiler

#history #accidents #shipwrecks #Edmund fitzgerald #great lakes

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krakenbait · 3 years ago

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kraken bait 3: the moment of truth

the moment is finally upon us! no, not the actual expansion draft, that’s in 10 days. i mean my last (but best) installment of the kraken bait expansion draft theories!

this has been a long, long work in progress, basically since i posted the last one. i’ve asked nearly every hockey fan i know, as well as randomly messaging several friends and cool people on hockeyblr, for their ideas and opinions on their favorite team’s expansion draft situation. and as with my previous lists, i had my friend and capfriendly consultant corwin (@chaos-hockey) collaborating with me to make this semi-reasonable (largely against their wishes). i’ll be including commentary from myself and my variety of sources with each pick.

for reference, this is a somewhat plausible look at who seattle might take in the expansion draft. it’s not a prediction, because even i don’t honestly think the kraken will take some of these players, but it’s a fun simulation. it does follow expansion draft rules, and even comes under the cap (which took some last-minute finagling by me and corwin).

without further ado, let’s get into it! this list got long, so it’s all under the cut.

Anaheim Ducks: Haydn Fleury

this one comes straight from resident danton heinen fan, ergo ducks fan @dantonheinens, so thanks for your help casey! they sent me a very detailed explanation of anaheim’s expansion draft situation basically explaining that there’s a whole lot of “ands, ifs, or buts” with the ducks, but if fleury is exposed, he’s a slam dunk (slam duck? i’m sorry)

Arizona Coyotes: Christian Fischer

the one thing i know about this dude is he got wrecked in a fight with nathan mackinnon in the 2020 playoffs. this is the first of several picks on this list i borrowed from The Athletic’s mock expansion drafts, which happens if i don’t know the team and i don’t know anyone else who does. corwin and i also considered taking adin hill from the yotes, but we decided on some other goalies instead (stay tuned).

Boston Bruins: Jeremy Lauzon

i have a lot of friends who are bruins fans, so credits are owed to: corwin, casey again, alex (@patron-saint-of-boston-hockey) & luna (@kureally) & any other bruins fans in the nwhl discord, and my irl bruins friends. i got a lot of opinions on the bruins pick, including jake debrusk, jakub zboril, connor clifton, and trent frederic. but the one name almost everyone could agree on was lauzon. therefore, i’ve decided he’s headed to seattle.

(it feels worth it to mention that at the prospect of having to take someone from the bruins, corwin said “curses be upon your name!” in an aggressively thick boston accent)

Buffalo Sabres: Rasmus Asplund

i could not tell you who this is, other than the fact that he’s one of buffalo’s three rasmuses (rasmi?). corwin and i had also talked about maybe putting anders bjork here, like i did in the last go-around, but i defaulted to The Athletic this time, and they thought asplund was a good pick, so here we are.

Calgary Flames: Mark Giordano

another pick borrowed from The Athletic, but i’ve seen predictions of giordano to the kraken a fair amount. it just seems right (and a whole lot better than corwin’s proposition of matthew tkachuk from last round).

Carolina Hurricanes: Brady Skjei

this one comes from the lovely @summerteukka, so thank you kinga! she gave me a very good rundown on the canes and the expansion draft, with the conclusion being the canes have so much defensive depth that it’s definitely going to be a defenseman, and especially if they resign dougie hamilton, skjei seems to be a likely choice. i’m all for it- we’ll have “an S and a K and a J all next to each other” on a kraken jersey.

Chicago: Adam Gaudette

similarly to the arizona pick, corwin and i considered a goalie here- in this case, it would have been malcolm subban. but he is not one of the goalies we ended up going for. instead, we opted on bringing micaela gaudette and her husband back to the pacific northwest.

Colorado Avalanche: Ryan Graves

this is really a no-brainer. gravy is a good defenseman, but the avs have such a strong defense between cale makar, devon toews, and sam girard (and you could add erik johnson when he’s healthy), plus up-and-comers like bo byram. gravy will almost definitely be exposed, and i think he’s a great pick for seattle. plus it’s relatively painless for avs fans who also will like seattle (like yours truly).

(corwin also wanted me to mention that they want gravy traded to the bruins so he can play with curtis hall, who is basically “color-swapped ryan graves”)

Columbus Blue Jackets: Dean Kukan

another pick taken right from The Athletic. i do not know who this is, but he’s a defenseman and the writers liked this pick so i went with it. for the record, corwin really wanted this pick to be boone jenner because he has a funky name, but i wanted another defenseman, so the fun name was sacrificed for function.

Dallas Stars: Jason Dickinson

i don’t really have an explanation for this one. corwin and i were talking about the stars options and picking dickinson just felt right.

Detroit Red Wings: Vladislav Namestnikov

thanks are owed here to joce (@doubleminor) for her red wings expertise! she gave me a few players who were likely kraken bait and i picked from there. it came down to evgeny svechnikov and vladislav namestnikov, but i went with namestnikov in the end. he was with the avs for a brief period and i liked him then, plus the vibes just seem right, so here we are.

Edmonton Oilers: Tyson Barrie

really, tyson barrie was the player who started the whole kraken bait thing. corwin made the drawing, i made the first list, and the rest is history. do i actually think tyson will be going to the kraken in a week? not really. do i still really like the idea of it? 100%. therefore, i will continue to engage in my “tyson barrie to seattle” nonsense.

Florida Panthers: Chris Driedger

oh look, our first goalie! florida had some interesting skater options, but when it came down to it, corwin and i thought the cats were a good place to take a goalie from. driedger did pretty well this season, plus the panthers’ goalie situation is locked up between $10 million man bobrovsky and future star spencer knight.

Los Angeles Kings: Viktor Arvidsson

corwin was feeling pretty strong about this one, so i’m trusting their judgement. according to them, seattle expressed interest in arvidsson, so nashville traded him to the kings instead of giving him up for nothing. now the kings get to give him up for nothing, which works out pretty well, considering i had absolutely no clue who to pick from the kings.

Minnesota Wild: Matt Dumba

like some other picks, this just seems right. i like matt dumba a lot. he seems like a fun and wholesome guy, and his activism, both on his own and with the hockey diversity alliance, is admirable. i hope he gets to display his personality and keep working to better the sport of hockey with the kraken.

Montreal Canadiens: Jake Allen

goalie number two! picking a player from the habs was weird because i got attached to them during the playoffs, but i really don’t know many of their players? so corwin and i deliberated on this a little, and after looking at our goalie situation, decided that allen was the right pick from montreal.

Nashville Predators: Calle Jarnkrok

after doing art for and getting a featured article from the preds, corwin thinks they’re some kind of nashville expert. i originally had matt duchene here, but corwin said not him. their logic? they did art of duchene for their preds project, so they probably want to keep him around. fair point. so we went with calle jarnkrok. the logic behind that choice was simple: “calle jarn-kraken”

New Jersey Devils: Andreas Johnsson

i wish i kept a counter of how many times corwin told me “ron francis doesn’t care about your feelings!” when we were discussing the devils pick. they kept advocating for either nate bastian or mikey mcleod, but i would not stand for the superbuddies being separated. this is my kraken bait list, so my decisions. i asked a few of my devils friends for their input (props to sabs @jakejuentzel and h @bigmouthnatebastian), and in between the mild panic, andreas johnsson got tossed out. therefore, it’s mango getting shipped to seattle. does it further lower the average age of the devils? yeah, but it’ll be fine! the nhl could use some youthful chaos.

New York Islanders: Jordan Eberle

all of my kraken bait ideas for the isles came from the bardown breakdown podcast (a great listen if you like hockey and pop-punk/punk music!), since both hosts are isles fans. they had a few names tossed out, including josh bailey and casey cizikas, but corwin and i decided on eberle. like with a lot of these, right vibes.

New York Rangers: Kevin Rooney

i’ve seen two names pretty consistently for rangers kraken bait: colin blackwell and kevin rooney. is blackwell is better and therefore the more likely pick? yes. but kevin rooney is a former devil and also mocked tom wilson, so i voted he gets to go seattle.

Ottawa Senators: Chris Tierney

i don’t think i could name more than three, maybe four players on the sens, so i defaulted to The Athletic on this one. i have no idea who chris tierney is, but it works, so there we go.

Philadelphia Flyers: James Van Riemsdyk

@phillyjoel left some fantastic notes on the flyers kraken bait in the tags of my last list, giving me good evidence to tell corwin that for the last time, nolan patrick is not kraken bait. the argument i saw was that the flyers are probably going to trade patrick instead of giving him up for nothing and make cap space by giving away van riemsdyk or voracek. The Athletic liked the van riemsdyk pick, and corwin could live with it, so that’s where we settled.

Pittsburgh Penguins: Zach Aston-Reese

i honestly don’t have a whole lot of explanation for this one. another pick borrowed from The Athletic, corwin and i liked it, there we go. we considered going with kris letang, but the vibes weren’t right.

San Jose Sharks: Ryan Donato

shoutout to my sharks friend and amazing artist K (@18minutemajor) for their help! i originally had brent burns in this slot, on K’s suggestion (we had a fantastic exchange about brent burns befriending bigfoot). however, i ran into last-minute cap trouble and had to switch the pick. ryan donato came from The Athletic, but i think it’s kind of a fun pick. he’s been passed between a few teams recently, but most of what i know of ryan donato comes from the 2018 olympics (aka the first time i really watched hockey!), when he was apparently doing pretty well for team usa.

St. Louis Blues: Vince Dunn

thank you @powerblais (and the blues fans group chat) for your input on this one! vince dunn was one of the names on the list erin sent me, and The Athletic also had him listed, so we went with it.

Tampa Bay Lightning: Blake Coleman

thanks @heddy for responding to my out-of-the-blue message with some good input on the bolts! ana gave me some good suggestions like tyler johnson plus something else so they take on the contract, alex killorn, and ondrej palat. in the end, this devils fan defaulted to pickles. this pick is in the same category as tyson barrie- do i actually think coleman is going to the kraken? not really. do i still like the idea? absolutely.

Toronto Maple Leafs: Travis Dermott

borrowed from The Athletic and some other kraken bait predictions, because everyone has something to say about the leafs. corwin and i waffled between dermott and alexander kerfoot for this pick, but we eventually settled on dermott to seattle.

Vancouver Canucks: Madison Bowey

this pick changed so much in just one day. we originally had braden holtby here because original kraken bait, but then i ran into cap trouble. so i switched it to zack macewen, following a pick by The Athletic. but then i wanted one or two more defensemen, so i switched to madison bowey, who was the other pick from The Athletic. after all that, it seems like the right pick.

Washington Capitals: Vitek Vanecek

our third and final goalie! corwin and i had our eyes on vanecek as kraken bait for a while- a young goalie with promise and room to improve seemed like the right pick for seattle. we briefly considered tj oshie--he’s from washington state, and corwin wanted to upset caps fans (we were talking during the first round of the playoffs)--but ended up back with vanecek as our pick.

Winnipeg Jets: Mason Appleton

last pick of the list! not much to say here, though. it’s a pick borrowed from The Athletic, but we went with him over the other option from the jets because he has a fun name. to quote corwin, mason appleton sounds like “an apple pie in a mason jar on skates.”

and there you have it folks, the final kraken bait list! if you want to know the specifics, we’ve got 3 goalies, 16 forwards, and 11 defensemen, and the total cap hit is 76.4M. i’m pretty doubtful that this will be the actual expansion draft lineup, but we’ll have to see how many, if any, picks corwin and i got right.

thanks again to everyone who helped me out, and i hope you enjoyed the chaos and commentary of the kraken bait lists!

#seattle kraken #kraken bait #expansion draft

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agentnico · 5 years ago

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Top 20 Best Movies of the Decade (2010′s)

Now that we have entered the 2020s, it’s time to look back on a decade of movie magic. To emphasise the importance of each year, I’ll balance things out by including two films from each year for my Top 20 list. I’ve tried to pick films that both defined this decade as well as appealed to me personally, so my list will of course, as always, be different from yours, but hopefully, I won’t totally irritate you with my humble choice, which I deem worthy to post online for the public eye to witness.

2010:

INCEPTION - “You’re waiting for a train...” Christopher Nolan unarguably is the most exciting and original directors working today. Each time he releases a movie, its an event. A literal must-see at the cinema. Which is why this isn’t the only film of his you will find on this list. With Inception, Nolan gives us a movie that is both enjoyable and imaginative, rewarding the audience for the attention that it demands. Filled with so much detail that if you miss certain shots, you will completely get lost in confusion of the narrative (as confusing as it already is). It’s intense and complex, with great performances from the likes of Leonardo DiCaprio and Tom Hardy, this movie will leave you lingering for more even after that mysterious ending.

SCOTT PILGRIM VS. THE WORLD - “You cocky cock! You'll pay for your crimes against humanity!” Once again, another exciting director on this list (oh there are so so many!). Ever since Edgar Wright emerged from the British isles, he’s given us some of the funniest films of the past decade and onwards. His Cornetto Trilogy is a blast, Baby Driver is a blast, Ant-Man was going to be even more of a blast if Marvel allowed Wright to do his magical shenanigans his way, and the upcoming Last Night in Soho will surely be a blast also. With Scott Pilgrim vs. The World Wright creates a meta-clever universe taking inspiration from comic books and video games and filled to the brink with wink-wink-nudge-nudge humour, this is an exciting and very sarcastic over the top endeavor. Also, Brie Larson in this movie.....phew!! And unsurprisingly, its all a blast!

2011:

DRIVE - “I just wanted you to know, just getting to be around you, that was the best thing that ever happened to me.” Drive is more of an elegant exercise in style, and its emotions may be hidden but they run deep. A shamelessly disreputable, stylish, stoic, ultra-violent thriller with amazing stunt work, one of the best opening sequences of any movie this decade and a neon-pumped soundtrack that’s a must-own for all vinyl users, if you still haven’t seen Drive, there’s only one thing you can do. Clue: it’s to go watch Drive.

MISSION: IMPOSSIBLE - GHOST PROTOCOL - “Your mission, should you choose to accept it...” Tom Cruise’s deal with the devil allows him to do some literally impossible stuff, and though I don’t condone his Scientology ways, the man’s stunt work and efforts in his area of expertise are worth all the praise and respect. To be honest, I’m commemorating all three of the Mission Impossible flicks that graced our screen this year (Ghost Protocol, Rogue Nation and Fallout). This franchise is like a game of dodgeball, except that Tom Cruise is the dodgeBALL, being thrown and thrust left and right like nobody cares. Also, with me being Russian, the fact that a movie manages to destroy the Kremlin and then have me not hate the film in the aftermath shows that this film is way too fun to hate.

2012:

DJANGO UNCHAINED - “Gentlemen, you had my curiosity, but now you have my attention.” Quentin Tarantino is one of my favourite directors working today. And Django Unchained happens to be my favourite film of his. The writing for this film is orgasmic (I went there!). The way the actors deliver the lines and the lines of dialogue themselves sound almost poetic to my ears. I can quote so many lines from this darn thing. The cinematography is immaculate. The soundtrack choice is great. The performances, my goodness, the PERFORMANCES!! Jamie Foxx does arguably his career-best work here, but also we have Christoph Waltz and Leonardo DiCaprio both chewing up the scenery, and I’m sure everyone has heard the story involving DiCaprio and the broken glass. Django Unchained is an easy choice on this list for me, and possibly in my Top 10 of all time.

LES MISERABLES - “Do you hear the people sing?” The film that is based on a musical that is based on a book that is based on certain true events. Tom Hooper did an interesting choice of having actors sing live in front of the camera during filming rather than pre-record their voices, and it works to grand effect, though Russell Crowe should have probably been given more singing lessons. The movie is one hell of a way to adapt such a popular stage musical. With an opening shot that emphasises the scale of this picture with a zoom-in towards this big ship during a storm being pulled by these poor prisoners, we are plunged into the despair and conflicts of various characters with adroit narrative thrust so that not a moment feels wasted or redundant. You’d think that a film with hardly any dialogue and an overall reliance on singing wouldn’t be so emotional. Yet, somehow, it works. Also props to Anne Hathaway for winning an Academy Award for being in a film for only 5 MINUTES!!

2013:

THE WOLF OF WALL STREET - “Sell me this pen.” Martin Scorsese’s mad look into Wall Street life is a bombastic caper and running at nearly 3 hours, Scorsese and his editing team manage to keep an astoundingly intoxicating pace that keeps you enthralled and engaged throughout. This one is definitely not for the families, as this R-rated fest is filled with drugs, money, sex and everything you can possibly imagine and paints quite the picture of the rich folks of Wall Street. And the middle of it all a bravura performance from Leonardo DiCaprio. Someone needs to give DiCaprio’s agent a raise, this is Leo’s third appearance on this list and we’re only in 2013!

THE WAY WAY BACK - “I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave. You're having way too much fun, it's making everyone uncomfortable.” Sometimes a little indie flick is enough to lift a human spirit. Real, fun, uplifting and innocent, The Way Way Back dedicated to anyone who felt awkward or out of place at some point in their life, which, let’s be honest, counts all of us. I’m not afraid to admit that. So stop being a b*** and reveal your sensitive side too! Yes, you, the person reading this. Who else could I possibly be talking to? Myself? Maybe. The Way Way Back though is one of the best feel-good indie films of this decade, with the loveable Steve Carell acting very unloveable and Sam Rockwell Rockwelling himself to charm city! If you’ve missed this one, treat yo’self and check it out.

2014:

THE GRAND BUDAPEST HOTEL - “And?? Where is it? What's it all about dammit don't keep us in suspense this has been a complete f***ing nightmare! Just tell us what the f*** is going on!!!” Easily Wes Anderson’s best in my opinion (I have a friend who would argue Rushmore and The Royal Tenenbaums has the better hand but I think my opinion is more valid because it's me), this movie is a glossy, colorful, whimsical deadpan affair with an energetic turn from Ralph Fiennes as the hotel concierge M. Gustave H. as he and his lobby boy run into various Wes Anderson regulars and deal with murderers, stolen paintings, love affairs, prison breaks, and all kinds of crazy shindigs, but all shown in such a casual Wes Anderson way. This movie is like a slice of cherry pie - damn fine!

INTERSTELLAR - “Murphy’s Law doesn’t mean that something bad will happen. It means that whatever can happen, will happen.” As promised, Christopher Nolan makes another appearance on this list, now with his space time-traveling epic Interstellar, where he takes inspiration from the likes of Kubrick and Tarkovsky to give us, as always, a tad bit confusing adventure with great visuals and an interesting narrative (though it does sometimes get lost in its own way), however, the key thing holding this piece together is the father-daughter relationship with Matthew McConaughey and Mackenzie Foy (and Jessica Chastain) managing to bring so much raw emotion to their respective roles that you can’t help but want to shed a tear. I mean, I haven’t cried for over 14 years, but I remember when I first watched this film, the audience around me was sobbing quite a few times during the duration of this movie. Give it to Nolan to give us the emotional moments!

2015:

MAD MAX: FURY ROAD - “Oh what a day! What a lovely day!!” Easily the best action movie of this decade. Sorry John Wick, neither you or Tom Cruise could defeat this beast. The sheer, limitless invention behind this movie's exhilarating, preposterous chase scenes highlights action filmmaking at its finest. With big monster trucks and a random guitarist rocking-it in the middle of all the action, it’s like a nihilistic version of a Cirque du Soleil show! And it makes Tom Hardy the calmest person on-screen; no idea how it managed that.

STEVE JOBS - “I sat in a garage and invented the future because artists lead and hacks ask for show of hands.” If there is anyone who can make formulaic, mathematical or technological sound fun and exciting, its Aaron Sorkin. The man has a talent for writing screenplays about difficult and complicated topics yet turning them approachable for the casual moviegoer. Pair him with director Danny Boyle, and the result is Steve Jobs, a look at the man behind the phone. Narratively set during three important product launches of Jobs’, we get to see the behind-the-scenes of his relationships with his colleagues and family members, and this character study is one that could have easily fallen into generic biopic tropes, but it holds it’s own right till the credits roll. Also props for showing that Seth Rogen can actually do a serious role. Who would’ve thought that pot-smoking fella had dramatic chops in him?

2016:

NOCTURNAL ANIMALS - “Susan, enjoy the absurdity of our world. It’s a lot less painful. Believe me, our world is a lot less painful than the real world.” Fashion designer Tom Ford does sew his suits well. Apparently, he can also make great films too, with 2009′s A Single Man and with said Nocturnal Animals. This movie is truly incredible and I remember it taking me and my friend by surprise when we first watched it at the cinema. It’s shocking. Horrifying. Depressing. Upsetting. Altogether exhilarating. Being of a fashion background, Tom Ford directs the hell out of this movie, with gorgeous shots and great use of colour as well as managing to masterfully create tension and suspense when necessary. Honestly, I know Tom Ford is probably busy at a department store somewhere, but the guy needs to make another movie. The man has a talent.

LA LA LAND - “Here’s to the ones who dream, foolish as they may seem. Here’s to the hearts that ache; here’s to the mess we make.” Oh, La La Land. Damien Chazelle’s follow-up to the also excellent Whiplash. People who know me well know how much I love this movie. An old-school tour-de-force musical that’s a love letter to jazz and the golden age of Hollywood. The city of stars never looked so good. Featuring catchy original songs, excellent dance choreography (the sequence to the song “Lovely Night” is especially memorable) and a romance tale ten times better than the forsaken The Notebook, La La Land is one special movie. I know many are put off by the film’s not so happy ending, however for me it was the only way this narrative could have ended.

2017:

BLADE RUNNER 2049 - “We’re all just looking out for something real.” Similarly to Nolan, Denis Villeneuve is proving to be one of the most exciting directors working today. He’s the man behind such films as *deep breath* Prisoners, Enemy, Sicario, Arrival and Blade Runner 2049. And those have all been done within the last decade. The man constantly makes quality movies of various genres, though lately, he has been leaning more towards science fiction, which is a-okay in my books, since as Blade Runner 2049 proves, he can turn science into fiction like butter on bread. A sequel made 30 years after Ridley Scott’s classic, this visually breathtaking piece is arguably even better than its predecessor with many moments giving you the “wow wow wow wow wow WOW!” factor, and when Ryan Gosling and Harrison Ford are both on-screen they are dynamite. Forget the new Star Wars film (that’s right, I'm throwing shade there), Blade Runner is where it’s at!

PHANTOM THREAD - “The tea is going out. The interruption is staying right here with me.” The supposed last Daniel Day-Lewis film, as he has now apparently retired from acting, but let’s be honest, nothing stops him from simply unretiring at any point. Exhibit A - Joe Pesci. However, like Pesci, if he comes back I’ll only be happy. He’s one of acting greats of our time, and his collaborations will director Paul Thomas Anderson bring out some of his best roles. Phantom Thread is a marvel of a movie. No, I don’t mean that’s its part of the Marvel Cinematic Universe, I mean as in it can fill one with wonder and astonishment. Phantom Thread is PTA’s Gothic dark fairy-tale romance film, which expertly planned shots and scenes where every word of the dialogue counts. There is no wasted moment. And as the film transpires to its dark and unsettling climax, one begins to realize that this, THIS, is what filmmaking is about. Telling an engrossing story in an interesting way with crisp-clear shots and off-the-chart acting at play, with great costume design on display, although the latter is unsurprising due to a major aspect of the movie revolving around fashion.

2018:

MANDY - “You ripped ma shirt!! You ripped maaa shiirrt!!” An acquired taste for sure, however, Mandy is indeed something truly special. From first glance, this film might seem like nothing out of the ordinary, especially from the point of view of the plot. Its the usual revenge flick. However director Panos Cosmatos’ vision and how he presents it is so much more unique. And what’s not love in this film? There’s something for everyone! It’s artsy and slow enough for the critics, hip and metal for the nonchalant, gory and violent for the hardcore genre fanatics and of course the Nic-Cage-rage factor is present for the fans of the actor. Alright, it may not be a family film, but this one is worth a watch. The whole thing is bound together by this psychedelic otherworldly environment, with the whole movie conceived in this dark, unsettlingly beautiful yet horror-filled aura that might stray people away, as it might be just too different for them, however, if you are looking for something different to watch, take mandy. I mean, watch Mandy!

A STAR IS BORN - “Music is essentially 12 notes between any octave. Twelve notes and the octave repeats. It’s the same story told over and over. All the artist can offer the world is how they see those 12 notes.” The film that began all the rumours surrounding Bradley Cooper’s and Lady Gaga’s affair. People, heads up, they are actors! They were putting on a performance! Jeez. That being said, I totally ship them. Nuff’ said. The film though? Yes, it’s good. Some country-style music, romance blooming, Gaga can apparently act, people sing about shallows for some reason...all together works for a pretty decent motion picture. Also, the fact that Bradley Cooper wrote, directed, produced and starred in this gives me so much respect for the guy. He poured his heart and soul into this. And Lady Gaga absolutely shines!

2019:

PAIN & GLORY - “Writing is like drawing but with letters.” Director Pedro Almodovar semi-autobiographical film takes a close look at how one deals with acceptance, being forgotten, symptoms of depression and generally all fairly negative attributes, but delivered in such an honest and profound way that there is a strange lightness that emerges from it all. Antonio Banderas is uncannily vulnerable in the lead role, delivering such an earnest performance that shows a man that is filled with melancholic regret who seeks his own form of redemption. This movie is a thing of beauty.

PARASITE - “You know what kind of plan never fails? No plan at all. If you make a plan, life never works out that way.” Parasite is easily the most original and surprising films of 2019, and possibly the decade, managing to subvert expectations and blend together so many different genres so naturally. To spoil any narrative element of this movie would be a sin, like this one in particular works best when not knowing anything about it. This movie comes to us from Bong Joon-Ho, a South Korean director behind such films as The Host, Memories of Murder, Okja, and Snowpiercer. It’s nice to see the awards ceremonies giving him the proper recognition finally. He deserves it.

That sums up my Top 20 Best Movies of the Decade list. Of course, there are so many other great films that came out in these 10 years, such as Whiplash, When Marnie Was There, Paterson, Silence, Kubo and the Two Strings, The Nice Guys...I can go on forever. Cinema is a constant ever-growing medium, and it is fascinating to see how it changes through the years, in some ways improving and in some parts not so much. In any case, I look forward towards a new decade of, hopefully, great movies, however, let’s be honest, for all these great films there’s always a Norm of the North, a Scout’s Guide to the Zombie Apocalypse or frickin’ Cats. But let’s hope those will be kept to a minimum. In any case, bring on the 2020s!

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atemyboyfriend · 4 years ago

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ships i need and/or need more of in my life:

captain wolf ( this surprises no one, as i’m the captain of this ship and T R A S H ) // ruby lucas & killian jones

frankenwolf* // ruby lucas & dr. whale / victor frankenstein

red huntsman // ruby lucas & the huntsman / graham humbert

red beauty / red lace // ruby lucas & belle french / lacey

frozen wolf // ruby lucas & elsa

red cricket // ruby lucas & archie hopper

red wood // ruby lucas & august booth

mad wolf // ruby lucas & jefferson

peter & the wolf* // ruby lucas & peter

ruby slippers* // ruby lucas & dorothy gale

mulan rouge // ruby lucas & mulan

brave red warrior // ruby lucas & merida & mulan

red snow // ruby lucas & snow white / mary margaret

charming wolf // ruby lucas & charming / david nolan

RED SNOWING ( fite me this would have been the perfect triad ) // ruby lucas & charming & snow white

*do it. someone fucking do it. write whale/victor, peter and/or dorothy. i will give you l i m b s.

#( UNCLOAKED ) | ooc #( G I M M E )

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texastheband · 4 years ago

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Crowd Pleaser

Interview by Nigel Farndale, Photography by Ellen Nolan Taken from The Sunday Telegraph - July 31, 2005

Sharleen Spiteri used to be a shy boyish hairdresser who got called 'son' a lot. But then she grew up into a famous, flirty pop star who knows 'how to be a woman' and regularly gets proposed to on stage. What went right? By Nigel Farndale In a noisy London bar Sharleen Spiteri is hearing voices. 'Sorry' she says, distractedly turning round in her seat. 'I keep hearing someone say, "That's Sharleen from Texas."' That must be the curse of being a public figure in a public place, I suggest. 'No, it's the curse of my bloody hearing. I can separate sounds really well. Too well. In the studio I have to listen to a mix from about three rooms away. My nickname within the band is Radar.' This seems quite brave of her band. Radar was the nerdy one with the glasses in M*A*S*H. Spiteri has a reputation for being a loud, feisty, broken-nosed, leather-jacketed Glaswegian. I'm surprised they dare call her anything other than 'boss', or possibly, given that she also describes herself as looking androgynous, 'sir' Today she is not wearing the black leather jacket, but black jeans are in evidence, and a black top, and these complement the 'Sharleen Spiteri look': dark, blunt-cut hair that she has to flick constantly from her dark, sultry eyes. But that is not to say she looks intimidating, or is lacking in warmth. She has big, puffy lips for one thing, and she is wont to chew on these coquettishly. And she is chatty. Very, very chatty. 'I can be a bit of chatterbox,' she warns redundantly. 'It was a habit I picked up as a hairdresser.' That was when she was 17. It was meant to be a temporary job before taking up a place at the Glasgow School of Art, but she found she enjoyed it and would have liked to keep it up had she not, on a whim, auditioned for a new band being formed by Johnny McElhone, a guitarist with Altered Images. The five members of the band - all the rest are men - decided to call themselves Texas, after the Wim Wenders film Paris, Texas. Spiteri and McElhone wrote 'I Don't Want a Lover', a bluesy number featuring a Ry Cooder-style slide guitar, and it went straight to the top of the charts. This was unexpected, so much so that Spiteri hadn't even given up her £2-an-hour hairdressing job. Their success looked shortlived though, as two follow-up albums flopped, but then, nearly a decade later, in 1997, came the album White on Blonde, a mix of dance, rock and soul which produced one hit after another: 'Say What You Want', 'Black-Eyed Boy', 'Halo', etc. Now, at 37, Sharleen is a regular on rich lists and Texas have sold some 20 million albums worldwide. 'My band is very aware I am the front person,' she says, talking rapidly in her Scottish burr. 'They knew that when they joined. I told them, "The attention will come to me and you won’t seem as important, so just accept that and don't feel paranoid about it." Bands break up when egos come into it.' Spiteri and McElhone still write all the songs - they have a new single out this month - and such has been the closeness of their partnership for the past 20 years, you have to wonder whether their actual partners feel jealous. Spiteri has been living in Primrose Hill with her boyfriend Ashley Heath, a fashion journalist, for the past decade. They have a three-year-old daughter called - and, remember, we're talking about pop stars here - Misty Kyd. So: does Ashley get jealous? 'I wouldn’t think so, but that is a question I can’t answer. I spend a lot of time with Johnny and as well as working together, we are best mates. But Johnny's wife is also one of my best mates. And Ashley sees a side of me that Johnny never sees, especially as we have a child together.' Even so, it must be odd for Ashley to see men holding up placards at Texas concerts, as they do, declaring their love for Spiteri and even proposing marriage. Doesn’t that bother him? 'You're probably better asking my dad that question!' Her father works for her; he is in charge of the lighting when Texas is on tour. When Spiteri was growing up, though, he was a captain in the Merchant Navy. 'He did three months on, one off. It seemed normal at the time. We were quite chuffed about his job. It seemed glamorous. I remember the massive walk-in fridges they had on his ships. My dad was cool. He smoked weed and shit, and was a bit of a hippy.' He could be a disciplinarian, though. 'I had to be home by nine during the summer holidays and one night I was late so I ran through the park and went straight into a tree and broke my nose. I got home with my nose bleeding and my dad just said, "You're six minutes late and you're in for a week." I wasn’t even allowed out in to the garden.' That's called imprisonment, I point out. 'Yeah, but it taught me a bloody lesson.' Has wealth and fame changed her relationship with her parents? 'No. I was always close to them and I still am. I'll take my mum out to dinner with my girlfriends and we'll have a giggle and a laugh.' Are these the starry girlfriends one reads about in the society pages? The Madonnas, the Stellas, the Gwyneths? 'Nooo. My best friends are Gilleen and Raggy. They are ma girls. They are like ma backbone. We're the three witches. We look after each other.' Does she divide her friends into celebrities and non- celebrities? 'No, no, no. Not at all.' But surely celebrities find it easier to relate to each other because their circumstances are mutually abnormal, that is why they tend to flock together? 'I don’t think of it like that. I've met these people through work, as it were, and being in a place they would be. Just because you are both famous, it doesn't mean you are going to get on. Trust me I've met a lot of famous people I don't like. Really don’t like.' And the ones she does like, how easy is it to go from superficial encounters at starry events to deep friendships? 'I met Stella [McCartney] first, many years ago when her dad was doing a TV special and I was invited to sing on it. We just clicked and drifted into friendship. She invited me to one of her shows in Paris. I invited her to one of my shows. I thought she was cool, she thought I was cool. We got on well together as two women. It wasn't at all starry.' And Madonna? That friendship, I gather, wasn’t even a matter of them bumping into each other. Madonna summoned Spiteri for an audience. 'Madonna just rang up and said, "Do you want to come to dinner?" and it was either a yes or a no and I said, "Yes." That's just an easier way for her to meet people she thinks she might want to meet, because there is always such a fuss around her when she is in a public place, What can I say? I enjoy her company, her conversation. She's lovely.' She has some glamorous male friends, too: Tom Ford, Ewan McGregor and Thierry Henry among them. The last-named announced the birth of her daughter to the world by scoring a goal for Arsenal, then lifting his shirt to reveal the words, FOR THE NEWBORN KYD. Has parenthood had an impact on her social life? 'To an extent. You have to think about babysitters. I'm always thinking, "Oo, it's 11 o'clock. I’d better get to bed because I'm up in the morning at seven with Misty"'. Spiteri rummages around in her shoulder bag and produces a photograph of her Aryan looking daughter. 'My mother is German and her blonde hair and blue eyes have jumped a generation to Misty. My grandmother's French, my grandfather's Italian, so I'm a bit of a mongrel.' Children of the rich and famous have a habit of growing up dysfunctional, does that worry her? 'Look, I know Misty's going to grow up very lucky. She's already got privileges. She went to bloody Live 8, for God's sake. At three years old! But I think about how Stella grew up to be so normal despite having such a famous father and I don't worry. For me, more than anything, I hate bad manners. I just want Misty to have good bloody manners and to understand what it means not to have everything you want.' The McCartneys sent their children to state schools in order not to spoil them; will Spiteri do the same? 'No. It's partly because I think it will be easier for Misty not to become the centre of attention if there are other children at the school whose parents are pop stars. It will probably help that Misty has the surname Heath.' Does Spiteri think she might change her name to Heath at some point, too? 'I don't know. Marriage is not a big issue in my life. It's neither here nor there for me. It's not for feminist reasons. I don't want to be "the future woman" or anything. I just don't care enough about all that.' She may not be the woman of the future, but does she think of herself as 'a working mother'? 'I'm completely hands on. At night I'm normally the one who puts Misty to bed. But I do have a nanny. I wouldn't want to have Misty hanging around the studios.' Does she feel guilt as a mother going out to work? 'No, but I cry more easily than I used to. You become more emotional. But I don't feel guilty, because I know Misty is well looked after. If she wasn't happy, I'd give this up in a second. In fact, I keep thinking that's what I might do anyway: run off to the country and breed chickens. And I would love Misty to have a brother and a sister.' As we talk an unexpectedly pragmatic side to Spiteri emerges. She turned down modelling contacts for Calvin Klein, and even the Nicole Kidman role in Moulin Rouge, it transpires, because she didn't want to compromise her image as a serious musician. 'I thought, if I do a movie, I may be rubbish at it. I know I'm good at this, though. Music. And this is what pays my bills.' (I'm tempted to remind her of David Brent's opinion of her alternative job prospects in The Office - 'We're both good in our own fields. I'm sure Texas couldn't run and manage a successful paper merchants. I couldn't do what... well, I could do what they do, and I think they knew that, even back then - probably what spurred them on'- but think better of it.) So, she's sensible with money? 'I'm not stupid with it. I don't know what I'm worth, to be honest, but I do make sure I know what is happening with my money I don't know how much time I have left doing this and I don't want to end up middle-aged and having to sell everything.' I ask if Spiteri worries about ageing: might she consider cosmetic surgery when she is older? 'Never say never. I was supposed to have my nose fixed for medical reasons when I broke it, because the gristle has grown in the way and I sometimes find it hard to breathe. The only reason I never did was I was worried it would effect my singing voice.' Does she use her looks to manipulate people? 'Am I a flirt, you mean? Of course. You've seen the photographs of me. You've seen the videos. I know how to be a woman. I don't manipulate people with it, though. I have a look, but I'm not beautiful. I'm androgynous. I think I look better now, though, than I did when I was younger. I grew into my face. As a kid I was skinny and geeky-looking, not an attractive child. None of the boys ever fancied me. I was always the mate. It was a bit gutting.' Was there a moment when she recognised that men did fancy her, after all? 'I don't know what they do find attractive. I think I look a bit strange, to be honest. I hide under my fringe and I have a big nose and a big mouth. I know my big mouth is a good feature and I do use it. But there's no point having a nice mouth if you're not a nice person, so I try to be nice. It's complicated, attractiveness. I don't even know for sure what I find attractive in a man.' Given that she thought she was unattractive as a teenager, did she feel self-conscious standing up on stage as an 18-year-old? 'I couldn't look at the camera. I was awkward and I knew I looked like a boy. Even in Texas, at the beginning, I used to get called "son" a lot. I'd get on buses and the driver would say, "That's one-twenty, son." She's more complicated than she seems at first, this Sharleen Spiteri: a self-deprecating rock star; a bohemian friend to the stars who likes to have a quiet game of Scrabble on the tour bus after a concert; a mother who worries about her daughter's manners, and makes financial plans for the future. More confusingly, she seems to have been a painfully shy teenager who became an extrovert, first as a chatty hairdresser then as a rock star. I'm confused, I say. How does that transition work, exactly? 'Well, I was fine on stage because I just became immersed in the music and blocked everything else out. And being chatty with strangers as a hairdresser was fine because they were one-on-one relationships. But I had been very shy at school, in a group, you know. I found it difficult to communicate with a class I felt I had nothing in common with. I was interested in music and art and being a goth. The other girls were only interested in pulling boys and drinking wine down the Goldfish Bowl in Loch Loman. I look at people with complete confusion when they talk about school being the best years of your life. I hated it.' Spiteri is less vain and egotistical than I expected, and I am pleasantly surprised when she insists on paying for our drinks. Afterwards, as we walk round the corner to her record company to watch her latest video, she tells me that there are some days when the paparazzi will follow her car and take pictures of her popping to the corner shop for milk 'and I hate that. Hate it.' And even when she turns up for a formal event and there are photographers waiting outside 'the palms of my hands start sweating and I can't breath and I think, 'Why am I doing this?"' Yet in her new video her lack of self-consciousness is remarkable. Indeed, she spends most of the time writhing around provocatively. 'Oh yeah,' she says, when I point this out. 'It was an easy one to film, that. I was on my back most of the time. Like I said, I do know how to be a woman.'

Dress by Louis Vuitton. Stylist: Cheryl Konteh. Hair: Raphael Salley at Streeters. Make up: Sam Bryant at Holy Cow

Text originally posted on texasindemand.com

#article #redbook #sharleenspiteri #sharleen spiteri #ellen nolan #sunday telegraph

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ao3feed-captiveprince · 5 years ago

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Hangout for all fandoms!!

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2VJy9YY

by Marvelous_Stark

Just a place for everyone of every random to hang out and talk about their ships and anything they'd like! :)

This is probably a complete waste of my time, to be honest. Facebook is a thing too lol.

You can comment links to works you've made, or ones you enjoy! Honestly post anything but hate.

Have fun, make friends, and please no arguing 😓

Words: 12, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Once Upon a Time (TV), A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, ダイヤのA | Daiya no A | Ace of Diamond, Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), InuYasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale, A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas, Dream Daddy: A Dad Dating Simulator, Animorphs - Katherine A. Applegate, A Series of Unfortunate Events - Lemony Snicket, A Series of Unfortunate Events (TV), A.C.E (Beat Interactive Band), The A-Team (TV), The A-Team (2010), Solo: A Star Wars Story (2018), The A-Team - All Media Types, B.A.P, B1A4, Block B, B-PROJECT 鼓動＊アンビシャス | B-PROJECT: Kodou Ambitious, Weiß Side B (Manga), Don't Trust the B---- in Apartment 23, Понедельник начинается в субботу - Стругацкие | Monday Begins on Saturday - A. & B. Strugatsky, Team B (Band), Z-O-M-B-I-E-S (Disney Movies), B.I.G | Boys in Groove, Left Behind - Jerry B. Jenkins & Tim LaHaye, Grey's Anatomy: B-Team (Web Series), Charlotte's Web - E. B. White, B.I.Shadow, Plan B (2009), Battle B-Daman, Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat, Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis, Political RPF - US 21st c., Political RPF - UK 20th-21st c., Political RPF - France 21st c., Hornblower - C. S. Forester, Coldfire Trilogy - C. S. Friedman, Political RPF - US 20th c., C-Pop, The Big C (TV), Alliance-Union - C. J. Cherryh, Political RPF - Canadian 21st c., Political RPF - Russian 21st c., House of Night - P. C. Cast & Kristin Cast, Chronicles of the Kencyrath - P. C. Hodgell, Flowers in the Attic - V. C. Andrews, Les Petits Meurtres d'Agatha Christie (TV), Le fabuleux destin d'Amélie Poulain | Amélie (2001), Les Aventures Extraordinaires d'Adèle Blanc-Sec (2010), La Vie d'Adèle | Blue is the Warmest Color (2013), Reflets d'Acide (Podcast), Les nouvelles aventures d'Aladin | The New Adventures of Aladdin (2015), Les chansons d'amour | Love Songs (2007), Couple d'Ange, Starry - Dahan & D'Angelo, Llibre d'Amic e Amat | The Book of the Lover and the Beloved - Ramon Llull, L'elisir d'amore | The Elixir of Love - Donzietti/Romani, 愛聖女 | Sainte d'Amour - Takarazuka Revue, Anne with an E (TV), The Outsiders - S. E. Hinton, Formula E RPF, Raffles - E. W. Hornung, Shades of Magic - V. E. Schwab, WALL-E (2008), Maurice - E. M. Forster, ボールルームへようこそ | Ballroom e Youkoso, Romeo e Giulietta - Ama e Cambia il Mondo, Villains Series - V. E. Schwab, Biggles Series - W. E. Johns, Nußknacker und Mausekönig | Nutcracker and the Mouse King - E. T. A. Hoffmann, Star Wars: Ahsoka - E. K. Johnston, Leagues and Legends - E. Jade Lomax, Seven Pillars of Wisdom - T. E. Lawrence, Oniisama E, f(x), F-Zero (Video Games), Great Gatsby - F. Scott Fitzgerald, Sue Thomas: F.B.Eye, F.E.A.R. (Video Games), F. T. Island, David Blaize - E. F. Benson, To Serve Them All My Days - R. F. Delderfield, Wild ARMs Altercode: F, The Poppy War - R. F. Kuang, F is for Family (Cartoon), F. COMPO, F/X: The Series, Logan's Run Series - William F. Nolan & George Clayton Johnson, China Mountain Zhang - Maureen F. McHugh, Enchanters Series - K. F. Bradshaw, Jeeves - P. G. Wodehouse, .hack//G.U., G.I. Joe - All Media Types, (여자)아이들 | (G)I-DLE, G.I. Joe (Cartoon), Psmith - P. G. Wodehouse, WODEHOUSE P. G. - Works, G.I. Joe: Rise of Cobra (2009), G Gundam, G.I. Joe: Retaliation (2013), The War of the Worlds - H. G. Wells, G.I. Joe: Renegades, 聖闘士星矢エピソード・ジー | Saint Seiya: Episode G, Splintered - A. G. Howard, The Invisible Man - H. G. Wells, Marabilia - Iria G. Parente & Selene M. Pascual, だから僕はHができない。| Dakara Boku wa H ga Dekinai. | So I Can't Play H! (Anime), Cthulhu Mythos - H. P. Lovecraft, LOVECRAFT H. P. - Works, H2O: Just Add Water, Machineries of Empire Series - Yoon Ha Lee, Triple H (Korea Band), Herbert West - Reanimator - H. P. Lovecraft, H.O.T. (Band), Dream Cycle - H. P. Lovecraft, Once and Future King Series - T. H. White, H.I.V.E. Series - Mark Walden, The Time Machine - H. G. Wells, The Tapestry Series - Henry H. Neff, She - H. 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(TV 1980), 古剑奇谭 | Gujian Qitan (Video Games), 诡秘之主 - 爱潜水的乌贼 | Guǐ Mì Zhī Zhǔ - Ài Qián Shuǐ De Wū Zéi, Persona Q: Shadow of the Labyrinth, 灵契 | Ling Qi | Spiritpact, 秦时明月 | Qín Shí Míngyuè | The Legend of Qin - All Media Types, 法医秦明 | Medical Examiner Dr. Qin (TV), Persona Q2: New Cinema Labyrinth, 庆余年 | Qing Yu Nian (TV), Tantei Gakuen Q | Detective Academy Q, Avenue Q - Lopez/Marx, 情定三生 | Qing Ding San Sheng (TV), 古剑奇谭 | Gujian Qitan (TV), 你却爱着一个傻逼 - 水千丞 | In Love with an Idiot - Shui Qian Cheng, 开封奇谈 | Kai Feng Qi Tan (TV), 大秦帝國 | Da Qin Di Guo | The Qin Empire (TV), Afdeling Q | Department Q (Movies), Power Rangers R.P.M., The Legend of Drizzt Series - R. A. Salvatore, Mary Russell - Laurie R. King, Nightside Series - Simon R. Green, R.O.D: Read or Die & Related Fandoms, E/R (1984), Wonder - R. J. Palacio, Smith of Wootton Major - J. R. R. Tolkien, Deathstalker Series - Simon R. Green, S.C.I.谜案集 | S.C.I. Mystery (TV), S.C.I.谜案集 | S.C.I. Mystery (TV) RPF, The Expanse Series - James S. A. Corey, The Last Unicorn - Peter S. Beagle, Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats - T. S. Eliot, The Daevabad Trilogy - S. A. Chakraborty, Star Wars: Phasma - Delilah S. Dawson, Draka Series - S. M. Stirling, s-CRY-ed, Wings of Fire - Tui T. Sutherland, Green Creek Series - T.J. Klune, T-Ara, Mad T Party Band, T.U.F.F. Puppy, The Tempest Series - T. D. Cloud, The Waste Land - T. S. Eliot, t.A.T.u. (Band), T. J. Hooker (TV), T.M.Revolution, Topp Dogg | Xeno-T (Band), The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015), The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV), U-KISS, Hollywood U: Rising Star, U2 (Band), The Girl from U.N.C.L.E., The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015) RPF, Here U Are (Webcomic), Without You - NCT U (Music Video), UC: Undercover, 1-800-WHERE-R-U Series - Meg Cabot, เพราะรักใช่ป่าว | Why R U?: The Series (TV) RPF, The Hate U Give - Angie Thomas, UC (Webcomic), Whitest Kids U' Know RPF, The Hate U Give (2018), Deux ans de vacances | Two Years' Vacation - Jules Verne, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, Yu-Gi-Oh! ARC-V, Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice, 第五人格 | Identity V (Video Game), Grand Theft Auto V, V for Vendetta (2005), Henry V - Shakespeare, 第五人格 | Identity V (Video Game) RPF, Final Fantasy V, Code Name: Sailor V, V (2009), V (1983), W.I.T.C.H., Hardy Boys - Franklin W. Dixon, Nancy Drew/Hardy Boys Super Mysteries - Franklin W. Dixon & Carolyn Keene, 君の名は。| Kimi no Na wa. | Your Name., 四月は君の嘘 | Shigatsu wa Kimi no Uso | Your lie in April, 田中くんはいつもけだるげ | Tanaka-kun wa Itsumo Kedaruge | Tanaka is Always Listless, 会長はメイド様! | Kaichou wa Maid-sama! | Maid Sama!, 囀る鳥は羽ばたかない | Saezuru Tori wa Habatakanai, كتاب ألف ليلة وليلة | Kitaab 'alf layla wa-layla | One Thousand and One Nights, 裏切りは僕の名前を知っている | Uragiri wa Boku no Namae wo Shitteiru | The Betrayal Knows My Name, 結城友奈は勇者である | Yuuki Yuuna wa Yuusha de aru | Yuki Yuna is a Hero, ふたりはプリキュア | Futari wa Pretty Cure, 今日から俺は!! | Kyou Kara Ore Wa!!, Koko wa Greenwood | Here is Greenwood, Bounen no Xam'd | Xam'd: Lost Memories, The X-Files, X-Men - All Media Types, Monsta X (Band), X-Men (Movieverse), Hunter X Hunter, X-Men (Comicverse), X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X1 (Korea Band), X-Men Evolution, Pocket Monsters: X & Y | Pokemon X & Y Versions, Rockman X | Mega Man X, Star Wars Legends: X-Wing Series - Aaron Allston & Michael Stackpole, X -エックス- | X/1999, Hoshi no Kaabii | Kirby: Right Back at Ya!, やがて君になる | Yagate Kimi ni Naru | Bloom Into You (Manga), Y: The Last Man, かくりよの宿飯 | Kakuriyo no Yadomeshi | Kakuriyo: Bed & Breakfast for Spirits (Anime), Sarai-ya Goyou | House of Five Leaves, Pokemon + Nobunaga no Yabou | Pokemon Conquest, Y tu mamá también (2001), Ya-ya-yah (Band), Y Gwyll | Hinterland, 传说之主的夫人 - 尹琊 | The Legendary Master's Wife - Yin Ya, Libro de los ejemplos del conde Lucanor y de Patronio | Tales of Count Lucanor - Don Juan Manuel, Yes or No อยากรัก ก็รักเลย | Yes or No: Yaak Rak Gaw Rak Loey (Movies), Olmos y Robles (TV), Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood (2002), Ya lyublyu tebya | You I Love (2004), Z for Zachariah (2015), Z Nation (TV), Z.Tao (Musician), The Chronicles of Vladimir Tod - Zac Brewer, A.B.C.-Z, World War Z - Max Brooks, Suite Life of Zack & Cody, Lost Souls - Poppy Z. Brite, Demashitaa! Powerpuff Girls Z, House of Leaves - Mark Z. Danielewski, World War Z (2013), Exquisite Corpse - Poppy Z. Brite, The Slayer Chronicles - Zac Brewer, Mazinger Z, Drawing Blood - Poppy Z. Brite, Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle, Sherlock Holmes (Downey films), Sherlock Holmes (1984 TV), Sherlock (TV) RPF, Miss Sherlock (TV), Шерлок Холмс | Sherlock Holmes (TV 2013), Sherlock Holmes (Rathbone films), Adventures of Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson (TV Russia), シャーロック | Sherlock: Untold Stories (TV), Murder Rooms: The Dark Beginnings of Sherlock Holmes, The Private Life of Sherlock Holmes (1970), Sherlock Holmes in the 22nd Century (Cartoon), Sherlock Holmes (US TV 1954), Shall We Date?: Guard Me Sherlock!+, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Marvel, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616, Marvel Cinematic Universe RPF, Captain Marvel (2019), The Defenders (Marvel TV), Marvel Ultimates, Marvel Adventures: Avengers, Marvel Noir, Marvel 3490, Captain Marvel (Marvel Comics), Star Wars (Marvel Comics), Shazam! | Captain Marvel (Comics), Currently adding more fandoms

Rating: Not Rated

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi, Other

Characters: I'll add more soon - Character

Relationships: I'll add more soon

Additional Tags: I'll add more soon - Freeform

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2VJy9YY

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #captive prince

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helloandwelcometomariasblog · 4 years ago

Text

Review #57-61

Old Review #57: 500 Days of Summer Written 31/08/18

Directed by Marc Webb Written by Scott Neustadter, Michael H. Weber

I was really, really surprised. I honestly thought they’d showed us the ending at the very beginning, so even when Summer was getting married, I had the confidence that things would turn out well in the very end. But no. She actually did get married to someone else and they didn’t end up together. I LOVED THAT. It was heartbreaking but I LOVED IT. It’s so unique! So unconventional! Even the very last scene was unconventional, how Autumn declined when he first asked. It was both funny and unexpected. This entire movie was full of unexpected twists and turns and I absolutely loved that.

Now, about how I could relate to the film. I think I could really relate to Summer. Not in terms of attractiveness and all that, but the difficulty she had in commitment and how private she was. And it’s weird but Summer’s right, you can just tell. You know when you fall in love.

All in all, a great movie. I loved the twist in the end. I also loved the message. It made me kind of sad though. The message is true, but it made me a little sad. That there really isn’t something like fate and in the end, even the most painful breakup, even the most compatible relationship, even the most unforgettable person, can be replaced by someone new. Christians tend to believe that God has prepared someone special for them. But that’s probably not true.

Old Review #58: The Dark Knight Review Written 20/07/17

Directed by Christopher Nolan Written by Jonathan Nolan, Christopher Nolan, David S. Goyer, Bob Kane

Just finished The Dark Knight, then had a brief squeal fest over the fact that Netflix had the sequel as well. I’d really wanted to rewatch it. I loved it so much when I first saw it. I still can’t forget that well scene. I personally think it’s one of the best I’ve seen in any Hollywood film.

As for The Dark Knight, amazing, amazing, amazing. THE AMOUNT OF SUSPENSE. Honestly, if anyone wants to learn how to write suspense, they should study this film page by page, beat by beat. I’m just going to jot down the amazing bits in bullet points cause I can’t think straight to write full paragraphs right now. But one thing – the Joker wasn’t as terrifying as I thought he’d be. Harvey Dent’s face was much more terrifying.

The amount of choices. CHOICES. CHOICES!!!!

The choices were always equally DIFFICULT. The balance was astounding. Rachel or Harvey? The wife or the boy? The ship full of civilians or prisoners?

The amount of TWISTS. You honestly never knew what was going to happen. I loved that so much. I absolutely loved the scene where that one prisoners gets up and throws the detonator out the window. He was a better man than the police officer. Those kinds of scenes. Where you think someone will be a certain way, and then they totally surprise you.

The Joker was smart. I loved that. I love a smart villain. When you don’t know what the villain is going to do and how, that’s when it gets amazing.

I also love how Harvey turned into a villain too. I also love how they used the two-face concept. That was great. Terrifying, therefore great.

I LOVE HOW THEY KILLED RACHEL. Look, it was great. It was one of the best things the film did. How many times in a superhero film does the hero save the damsel in distress? ALL THE TIME. It was refreshing seeing that NOT happen for once. It was new and positively shocking to see the death of an important person ACTUALLY happen. It was the best motivator, the best trigger for the story to be pushed forward. There was so much force now. The story, the characters, their motivations, became rich and meaningful. Rachel had to die. It was good that she died. (I’m talking about this all from the point of view of a screenwriting freak. Of course I didn’t ACTUALLY want her to die.)

I just love how the film presents choices, and then actually ACTS ON THOSE CHOICES. There are so many films where someone’s in danger, or something terrible is about to happen, and then the film saves it in the last moment. It’s kind of like a cheat. They build up the tension immensely, and then destroy it by making everything all well in the end. ‘Oh, were you scared? Hehe. It’s okay now!’ They’re teasing us.

But this film actually follows through, and that’s what makes it so terrifyingly good. With other superhero movies, whenever a threat is introduced, of course I’m scared at first, and tense, but after a while I’m like, “The hero’s going to save the day anyway.” And it happens.

But with this film, no. If time runs out, the hero doesn’t get to save the day. No deus ex machina. He can’t get there on time? She dies. It’s that simple. They don’t cheat the audience by suddenly presenting a miracle. Things go to plan. How come the good people always get a second chance? Keep things real.

The coin. Leaving it up to chance, Harvey’s coin was the most suspenseful token I’d seen in a film. AND AGAIN, HE FOLLOWED THROUGH. I really love that. That’s honestly what makes the film truly suspenseful. It follows through. So when the next decision making moment comes up, you KNOW they might actually die. The stakes are high and the stakes are fucking REAL. They actually will die. Decisions HAVE to be made, actions need to be taken.

I love that.

Review #59: Fight Club Written 18/07/17

Directed by David Fincher Written by Jim Uhls Based on the novel by Chuck Palahniuk

I want to, no, need to, talk about Fight Club.

It’s a fucking crazy movie. I really don’t like this movie. I can’t stop watching it, but I really, really don’t like it. I guess as a viewer, I could be told the same thing: Just stop caring and let go, and watch the fucking movie for what it fucking is.

But I CAN’T. I’m typing furiously right now because I just really can’t. I can’t bear to see all this crazy insane yoloness. I want it to stop. I want them to stop fighting and I want them to stop doing crazy shit and get their FUCKING LIVES TOGETHER.

I want the main character (do I even know his name?) to honestly get a grip and stop making a mess out of his life. He knows it’s wrong. But he’s so affected by Tyler’s words and his useless charisma all the time that he thinks it’s cool to be so crazy.

I think the movie is kind of glorifying Tyler, putting him up on the same level as a god. There was even a crucifixion moment. And the main character is trying really hard to look good to Tyler (like all his other 꼬봉s) and honestly it’s all a matter of self-esteem. Main character, you don’t need to do all that insane shit to feel like you’re worth it. So Tyler is a charismatic dude. So what. He’s not worth all that effort for you to feel accepted and appreciated. I just can’t with this film.

Review AFTER the film ended:

My mind… is blown away. Has been blown away. Not literally. Thank goodness not literally. I’m really amazed. I wasn’t really surprised at the split personality twist, for some reason. I was just sitting there going meh a little. It was a nice save, though, is what I thought. It was the right move to make in order for us to start understanding and liking the main character. A good move. A redemptive move.

The last 15 minutes? or so? were pretty amazing. Full of tension, and I had no idea what would happen. I loved it when the gun shifted from Tyler’s hand to… uh… Tyler’s. The movie turned out to be so much more different to what I thought it would be. At first I thought it was about fighting, and letting it go, and then it got way too much and I started feeling really uncomfortable, and then it turned out to have some fantasy aspects and got really good.

I’m kind of shaken right now, and I have to go home. But uh, let me talk briefly about what I think the message was.

Don’t FAKE IT. You are who you are. Even if you’re going through hard times. That’s who you are. Don’t hide yourself, don’t fake yourself. Don’t create a fake personality to slip into whenever you feel vulnerable. Let yourself be vulnerable. 강한 척… 하지 말자. I’m really shaken by the film right now. I can’t believe that gun shot didn’t blow his head off. Wtf.

Review #60: Catch Me If You Can Written: 13/07/17

Directed by Steven Spielberg Written by Jeff Nathanson Based on the book by Frank Abagnale Jr., Stan Redding

It’s a really good film. It made me think a lot, and I was never bored. I was always kept in suspense, and I was emotionally moved. I think that’s pretty much enough for it to be a great film. All around amazing in terms of action line and relationship line and character depth and development.

Frank was such a great character. He just felt so multi-dimensional and real. That’s the amazing thing about great characters. You never get the thought that they’ve been made up. You never get the thought that some writer sat at their desk for hours on end developing this “character”. I guess DiCaprio’s acting made it more realistic, but in general, Frank’s character was just really raw. I really loved him. He was interesting, dynamic, and had an intention behind everything. He was really active, he led the story. He was always making decisions. Argh. Amazing. He was always pushing the story on by making decision after decision. Even though he was the one being chased, he was the one making all the decisions and leading the story. Isn’t that amazing? You’d think that the person being chased would be the passive one, reacting to the fact that they’re being chased. Running away and escaping all the time. But no, even his escaping seemed like a feat, a beat, an extravagant decision.

And underneath all that, was his broken soul. That was the most amazing part about his character. He was doing all that because he was broken inside. All he wanted, was for his dreamy, perfect life to be put back into place. And he thought money could solve that. He thought if he tried hard enough, he could get his parents back together. He thought he could give them money, and the three of them could live as a happy family again. He always, always had fantasies of happy families – you see it so clearly and deeply in his eyes when he’s staring at his parents dancing, or when he sees Brenda’s parents washing the dishes together. That was his dream, deep deep inside. And he tried to achieve that and failed. He became disappointed with himself and his life, and came face to face with the fact that he couldn’t save anything – never could turn back time and put things right again – and made the decision that the real life wasn’t worth living. And so he began running away, living a lie. Remember what Carl says in the end. It’s easier living the lie (I think?).

I was so glad Frank came back in the end though. I’m glad he made that decision. See? Until the end, Frank is very much a strong, active character. HE makes the decisions.

I learned a lot. I think this just became one of my favourite films. (2020 me: Really?)

Review #61: Beauty and The Beast (2017) Written 18/03/17

Directed by Bill Condon Written by Stephen Chbosky, Evan Spiliotopoulos

The main problem I had with this film was some of the dialogue. It felt forced, cheesy, too economical. I know that each line of dialogue needs a purpose and you should only write what is needed, but I felt that it was a bit too much here (for example, the scene where Belle talks to her dad for the first time).

However, other than that, I was more than happy about what I saw on screen last night. It was truly enchanting. That is the perfect word for it. It reflected the animated film enough to feel joyfully and uncontrollably nostalgic, but also challenged several aspects of the original to create a more logical, credible, interesting story. It was a perfect adaptation.

When we see Belle for the first time in that small provincial town, in her blue and white dress, we are completely floored and can only watch mesmerized as she walks through the town, the townspeople singing one of the most famous Disney introduction songs.

Said simply, I gained immense pleasure from two things:

Recognizing things from the original film. Seeing how they made it into live action.

The things they did differently. They added bits and pieces to the story to make it perfect.

I'd love to watch it again just to jot the differences down. Also, I was holding my breath during the ballroom dancing scene. Perfect. And when she picked up the plate to drink from it. That was perfect. She didn't teach him to use the fork and spoon. It was like she got down to his level and tried to understand him while also showing him a better way to do things.

It had just the right amount of difference to make people wonder what might happen next. And that's amazing for an adaptation.

#review

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ao3feed-saintseiya · 5 years ago

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Hangout for all fandoms!!

AO3: https://ift.tt/2VJy9YY

by Marvelous_Stark

Just a place for everyone of every random to hang out and talk about their ships and anything they'd like! :)

This is probably a complete waste of my time, to be honest. Facebook is a thing too lol.

You can comment links to works you've made, or ones you enjoy! Honestly post anything but hate.

Have fun, make friends, and please no arguing 😓

Words: 12, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Rating: Not Rated

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi, Other

Characters: I'll add more soon - Character

Relationships: I'll add more soon

Additional Tags: I'll add more soon - Freeform

AO3: https://ift.tt/2VJy9YY

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #saint seiya #los caballeros del zodiaco #Hangout for all fandoms!!

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