#tapped into francis for that bit there i think roger .

[barklikeagod]

“but tom’s beautiful blank face before him is dying to be punched, or kissed, or marked in some way.”

[tarithenurse]

Orphan 10

Starring:  Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader and MCU characters! Contents: Spoilers for Endgame!! Fluff. Yeah, you read that right. Of course, there’s also some pining, worrying, awkwardness, and general feels of all sorts. A/N: So I’m posting this from my new home!! First night here! SoooooooOOOOOOOoooooo*gasp*ooooOOOOOoooo stoked about this, it’s almost ridiculous! Still: previous chapters can be found on the masterlist. Thanks for likes and reblogs and comments <3

10. Protective

After managing the initial formalities and even getting into the car without making a fool of yourself, there’s little left to say. So, Rhodes had left you behind for some work-thing. Why not take Pepper’s offer? I can’t…not yet, though you explain that differently with excuses of any kind. Perhaps Steve realizes the true reason but if so, then he doesn’t push the agenda in an effort to find out which. You are more than grateful, just like you feel a sense of relief that he doesn’t question you about how the visit went.

How did it go? It’s a lot to take in, that’s for sure.

Tony Stark was a man of transitions more than anything. Every time he had faced something new, he’d go in head on and work his way through until he had transformed it, or it had transformed him – into something more, something greater. Flawed, like most other people, it had been easy for him to follow down a path of less than honorable activities. Then he was forced to learn the truth. Afterwards, Tony sought to use all he had to correct the mistakes he had made. Make a difference. Your estranged father had become a hero to the world through his intellect and stubbornness.

Now people who knew him keep saying how alike the two of you are, how many of his features you share. What is anyone supposed to do with information like that? Become someone new like Tony Stark might have done? Or go on, allowing the well-meant comments fall to the ground and shatter as you turn your back?

There are probably more options, but as much as you would like to think it through, analyze the situation, it’s impossible for your brain to follow a train of thought to the end because of the person sitting to your left.

Hyperaware of Steve, your logical and emotional sides are at war, periodically freezing the hordes of butterflies that just will not give up. Each beat of their wings heat your belly and cheeks only for leaden worry to replace it. And guilt.

Consumed with your own turmoil, you do nothing to keep track of the real world until Steve suddenly cuts the engine, proclaiming the destination has been reached. A few stairs up, the lights of the city visible through narrow windows in the stairwell, and on to a front door which the Captain unlocks before offering your to enter first, like the gentleman he apparently is.

Dark hair swings out of the face as Barnes looks up, nailing you to the spot with his icy eyes. “Ohooo, so this’s the emergency y’didn’t want me along for?”

“Bucky.” There’s a hint of a warning barely hidden there.

“Nah, man, it’s okay,” Bucky chuckles, winking jovially, “Wouldn’t wanna be a third wheel anyways.”

Despite the red ears, there’s no warmth left in Steve’s voice now: “James.”

You silently watch a standoff unfold between the blond captain and his friend with the shit-eating grin plastered across his face until, eventually, the cheeky ex-assassin decides to back off to his own room, leaving Steve alone to help you settle for the night.

It’s not a huge place, but from the looks of it it’s perfect for a pair of friends sharing the kitchen, bathroom and living room while having each their own bedroom – at least you did spot a perfectly made bed before Bucky pushed the door shut behind him and somehow you don’t think the two would manage to share a normal sized bed. King size, minimum? Keeping silent, it’s easy to follow Cap through to his room (with a “full”) while he babbles absentmindedly about towels, pillows, and lending out t-shirts for the night.

“– and I’ll keep the light on in the living room so you can find me…I’ll be on the couch…or the or the way to the –“

What he says finally catches your attention. “Wait what?”

“Uhh…light?”

He looks cute when perplexed, you realize and promptly try to ignore. “No the…you’re not sleeping on the couch.”

“I can’t ask you to do that. It’s no big deal, it’s comfy.” A shimmer of the stubbornness from the standoff a moment ago has returned.

I’ll give you stubborn. “Good, then I’ll be perfectly fine there, thank you.”

A snigger warns both of you before the tauntingly sarcastic voice booms through the wall: “And tHeRe wAs o-oNly onE Be-eD!”

 …   Clint   …

“She’s an adult.”

Even with woolen socks, the man still manages to stomp as he paces back and forth.

“She’s not our kid, honey.”

Fingers tap restlessly against his thigh, itching to dial Rhodes number or to fire an arrow…maybe at Rhodes. Good thing he’s not here.

“Her problem solving’s commendable and…” Laura sighs, trying to hide the roll of her eyes behind a hand before stopping her husband with a steely gaze. “Clinton Francis Barton. Y’listenin’ to me? [Y/N] is an adult and in good hands because she made a smart decision and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

“But –“ He motions wildly to the phone where the messages still can be seen on the screen. “The plan was –“

Laura isn’t just used to dealing with superheroes. She’s a wife and a mother too, and a faithful partner through thick and thin. For years, she’s been preparing for and handling events like this, and Clint is in awe at her calm. Serenity. Looking at her, he realizes for the millionth time through their years together that she is his rock by which he can secure himself and find steady ground.

A few deep breaths then he can seek refuge in her embrace. “You’re right, sweetheart,” he admits, “it’s just hard not to be protective o’ her. What if’t’d been Lila?”

“Then Lila would have known what to do too.” He can feel her smile as Laura kisses his head. “We’ve got smart kids…all three and a half.”

Silence falls between the adults, allowing the crackle of firewood to prevail – it’s one of those sounds Clint cherishes too much to remove the hearing aids for. That and birds singing. And the sound of wind in grass. For too many years none of those sounds had carried any meaning because the most important of them all were missing: the voices of his family. Even now when the kids are sleeping and Laura sits quietly, he can still hear them or at the very least their living echo.

“She’s not gone,” she murmurs gently.

Magical wife. “I know.”

 …   Reader   …

On a scale from zero (none at all) to ten (the worst possible), the level off awkwardness is steady right about an eleven…maybe a nine if you don’t breathe and move which on the other hand would make it a very uncomfortable experience in other ways. Who’d have thought? To be fair, you did but there’s no way you’re changing your mind now.

Even where you are lying in the darkness, you can feel the heat radiating off of Steve who is lying equally rigid, probably with his hands neatly above the blanket he has insisted on using just so you could have the duvet. At least he accepted you slept with a smaller spare pillow, something you had rejoiced for a moment, foolishly thinking his scent wouldn’t be so overpowering…dude, were you wrong. Careful not to move too much, you squirm until you’re on your side.

“Can’t sleep?” he asks softly.

Duh. “Might help if ya sing me a lullaby.”

The mattress shakes with soundless laughter. “Not sure my taste of music’s…y’know…the right kind.”

“What d’you listen to?”

Awkward minutes turn into peaceful hours as the two of you chat about music, books, anything really as time passes until sleep finally overpowers you.

…

Gnnnnooo…something big and warm is moving ever so slowly, trying to free itself from under your arm and head. In your sleep muddled brain, it only matters that the being equals safety for some reason. But despite the half-hearted whine you still end up alone although the covers are tugged nicely around you, eliciting a semi-pleased sigh from your lips.

A few minutes pass where you try to silence an insistent nagging in the back of your head, too tempted by sleep to want to dig out the bugger. There is a clang of a pot or something on the stove, jarring your mind a bit further. Cooking. The little thought bounces up and down in your spongy brain, already prepping the spotlight for the natural associations. Person…cooking…person. Now the nagging is millimeters from turning into realization in all its shiny glory. Person. Steve.

“Ohshitfuckno!”

Sitting up with a jolt, wide-eyed and hair a mess, everything comes crashing back. The visit yesterday before you called the Captain for a ride. Of course the chat as you both lay there in the dark, pretending and eventually believing it wasn’t weird at all.

“Oh…”

All of it meaning that the person gently pushing you away must have been Steve. Captain America. And you had snuggled him in your sleep.

“Please, kill me now,” you breathe, face hidden behind hands and hair.

“So…no eggs for you?” You can hear the shy smile in Steve’s voice just as clearly as the measured footsteps bringing him to the bed where he sits. “It’s alright, doll…you’re safe here.”

Despite the heat spreading all over your face, you still manage to look at him and return the smile. “I know.”

“Good.” For a moment it looks as though he wants to reach out for you, his hand twitching in the lap but never moving further. “I-uhmm…the Barton’s will probably want you back but…but would you want to visit Banner at his lap?”

There’s a distinct sense of disappointment. Not because you don’t want to check out the renowned scientist’s lab, but because…because what?

Pushing away an unformulated theory, you smile gently. “That’d be awesome.”

“Alright.”

And with that he’s leaving to sort the cooking, only pausing to pull a towel out of the cabinet so you can shower.

[hearts-hunger]

“D’you need a pencil, love?”

Part Seven || Masterlist

Summary: Making good on his promise to show you the sights, Roger takes you to Tate Gallery, too busy romancing you to pay attention to the paintings. Later, you go by Roger’s and Freddie’s flat so Roger can get ready for the show, and Roger asks if you’d like to do his makeup.

Pairings: College!Roger x Reader

Genre: Fluff, just a lot of blushing and giggling mainly

Word Count: 5.2k

Warnings: None!

A/N: After 900000 years of silence, this series has been resurrected! God bless Ben Hardy and his ability to make me pine over him so hard that it makes me dust off a series I’d long since given up on. I’m so thankful for your encouragement and patience, and how a lot of you have kept hope alive that this series would come back one day. It means so much! I don’t know when the next part will be, but this is at least a start! ♡

“Which one do you want to look at first?”

You tucked your hand under Roger’s arm and looked at the pamphlet he was holding, taking a moment to read all the names of the different galleries listed. Roger had suggested taking you to the Tate Gallery for the first stop on your touristy trip through London, and you couldn't have been more pleased; you’d been wanting to go ever since you arrived in London, and you were much happier to be going with Roger than to be going alone. 

“Well, we could just start...” You tapped the room on the map that had a number 1 on it, labeled 16th and 17th Century Painting. “There. At the first one.”

He gave you a cheeky grin. “Oh, aren’t you clever?”

You giggled. “Why, which one do you want to go to first?”

He looked over the map. “Hm, we could try Romantic Painting,” he said. “Sounds right for us.”

You blushed and buried your face against the sleeve of his jacket, drawing a laugh from him.

“You’re very cute, sweetheart,” he said. “Has anyone ever told you that?”

“Shut up,” you said, nudging him lightly. He chuckled and kissed your forehead.

“We’ll start with the first one, like you said. That’s the better idea. We’ll get to Romantic Paintings eventually, and maybe by then you won’t be so shy and I can kiss you in front of all these posh art connoisseurs.”

You lifted your head and met his eyes, unable to help a smile at the thought of him kissing you. “Who says we aren’t posh art connoisseurs?”

“Quite right,” he agreed, gently steering you to the side of the walkway as a group of students came in. “Let’s go make wild critiques of art that nobody in their right mind would agree with.”

You laughed. “Okay. Lead on, Mr. Taylor.”

You kept yourself tucked close to him as he led you into the gallery proper, letting you take as long as you wanted to take in the beautiful high-ceilinged rotunda before finding 16th and 17th Century painting. The gallery was warm and quiet, the sound of shoes hardwood floors and people’s quiet comments creating a soothing atmosphere as you and Roger looked at the many paintings that graced the walls.

“So, you’re studying history,” Roger said, his voice low and gentle as he looked from one of the paintings to you, a cheeky smile on his face. “What happened in the 16th and 17th Centuries?”

You gave a soft laugh. “Lots. Shakespeare, Galileo, Sir Francis Drake, Milton, Newton... lots.”

“That’s five more than I would have been able to name.”

“You could probably guess someone off the top of your head and they would have been doing something in the 16th or 17th Centuries.”

Roger grinned. “Okay, um, how about da Vinci?”

“Yep, 16th Century.” You smiled. “See? I told you?”

He laced his fingers with yours as you moved to the next painting, a portrait of a pale young woman in Tudor-style clothes.

“I wish I knew more about art and history,” Roger said, studying the painting. He glanced over at you. “Sorry I’m a bit useless when it comes to this sort of thing.”

You stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. “If I wanted an art expert, I would have come with Freddie.”

“You actually should come with Freddie sometime,” Roger said seriously. “He’ll spend the whole day here, and he actually knows things about art, like you said.”

You laughed. “Maybe I will, sometime.” You liked that idea, and you could imagine yourself whiling away the hours talking about art with Freddie. “But for now I’m having the grandest time with you, even if you don’t know anything about art.”

Roger smiled and you didn’t miss the endearing pink across his cheeks. “The grandest time, eh? Well, I’m glad. You deserve the grandest of everything, love.” He looked back at the painting, looking over it a little less self-consciously now he knew you were having a good time with him even if he couldn’t place the style or history of it at all. “I do like her style, though. Very flashy.”

You giggled. “I think Brian would love it if you suggested you wear Tudor-style outfits for your show.”

“That’d go over well with our audience at the pub, don’t you think?” he said with a chuckle. “Honestly, Brian could probably be persuaded. Freddie’s probably tried. It’s just Tim who’s always so resistant to anything out of the ordinary.”

You looked up at him, trying to make out how he felt by watching his expression. He noticed and gave you a kind smile.

“I’ve been told my face is rather hard to read sometimes,” he said. “But you can ask me if you want to know what I’m thinking.”

You blushed. “I don’t want to pry.”

“You’re not,” he said. “I promise, love, I’d tell you if I didn’t want to talk about something. But you can always ask. I’m pretty much an open book anyways.”

You bit your lip and thought of how to word it as you walked to the next painting, a landscape with a river and a little village in the background.

“Are you and Tim friends?” you asked.

Roger shrugged. “I mean, we’re mates, I guess. You can’t really play music with someone all the time and not be at least drinking buddies.”

“But...?”

“We’re not close,” Roger said. “Brian and Tim have known each other since secondary school, and they were playing long before I came along.”

You considered that. “You’re close with Brian, though, right? Or am I... misreading that?”

Roger smiled. “No, you’re not misreading that. Brian and I are - well, I don’t want to sound too sappy, but it’s like we’ve known each other forever. And Freddie’s the same. We just... I dunno. Fit.”

You smiled and gave his hand an affectionate squeeze. “You can be as sappy as you want with me, I won’t tell anybody.”

Roger chuckled. “I appreciate that. I’ve got to keep up this cool exterior somehow. Can’t have the two of them thinking I’m too fond of them. It’d go straight to their heads.”

You laughed and leaned your head against his shoulder. You had the feeling that whatever Roger said, Freddie and Brian knew how much Roger loved them, and that they felt the same in return. You didn’t want to make a snap judgement against Tim - after all, you’d known him for less than a week - but somehow he didn’t seem to click with the three of them like that, nor did he seem to want to.

“But, yeah, things with Tim are a little... frayed,” Roger supplied. “He keeps picking fights and talking about joining a different band.”

“Does he really?” you asked, a little surprised. “But you’re... you’re doing an album. Would he really up and quit like that?”

Roger shrugged. “I dunno. Tim’s always been one for a lot of bluster but it honestly wouldn’t surprise me if he did quit Smile. He’s always going on about these other bands that play the same circuit we do, like Humpy Bong - God, he’s really got a hard-on for them - ” He cut himself off, a fierce blush coloring his cheeks.

“Sorry, I -” He cleared his throat. “That was a bit vulgar of me.”

You laughed, not to be unkind, but because his embarrassment was very endearing. “It’s ok, Roger,” you said. “I’m not offended.”

“Yeah, but...” He gave you a bashful smile. “I’m really trying very hard to be a perfect gentleman, you know.”

You smiled and gave him a chaste kiss. “I know. And you’re doing a wonderful job, honey. Even if you do say things like ‘hard-on’.”

His blush deepened and he put a hand to his face to try and hide it.

You gave a soft laugh and took his hand in yours, pulling it away from his face. “What?”

“Nothing,” he mumbled, though he was fighting a beaming smile. “Just... that’s the first time you’ve called me some kind of nickname.”

You realized it was, and you smiled up at him. “Did you like it?”

“Not at all,” he said dryly. He smiled when you laughed. “Of course I did, silly thing, why do you think I’m an absolute mess? And it’s very American of you, too. ‘Honey’ isn’t a very common term of endearment here. It’s cute.”

You grinned. “Well, lucky for you, you’ve got an American girlfriend to call you honey all the time.”

He put an arm around your waist and drew you close. “Quite right, I have.” He kissed you gently, the tenderness of it making you a little weak in the knees. You didn’t even think of how it would look to the other gallery-goers around you to see Roger kissing you like that in front of God and everybody, but you didn’t mind. You actually kind of liked it, and you gave him a breathless smile when you came up for air.

“Was that ok?” he asked. “Not, I mean - well, was it an ok kiss, first, but was it ok that I just kissed you like that in front of the whole gallery?”

You put your fingers to his lips and he kissed them gently.

“Yes, it’s ok,” you said, endeared to his concern. “And possibly the best kiss we’ve had so far.”

He grinned. “Well, fancy that. I think we’re getting better with practice, don’t you?”

“Without a doubt,” you said confidently. His expression showed a bit of pride at that, and you couldn’t help a smile. You tucked your arm around his waist under his jacket, enjoying the feeling of his warmth and steadiness as you continued around the gallery, moving from 16th and 17th Century Painting into different galleries up to the turn of the century. Roger made up little stories and scenarios for each painting you saw, some funny and lighthearted and others showing a distinct passion Roger had for issues of social justice and politics.

He made good on his promise to sweep you off your feet when you got to the Romantics, too. Though he listened interestedly when you explained Romanticism as a philosophy, he made up elaborate romantic scenarios for the paintings and said so many sweet things to you that you wore a permanent blushing smile all the way through. 

You noticed as you walked through the gallery on Surrealism that Roger kept discreetly checking his watch; you hadn’t thought it was late enough for you to head to the Foxtail for the set, but you guessed you could be misjudging what time it was.

“Is it almost time to go?” you asked.

He looked a little bashful. “Well, not technically - we don’t have to be at the pub until seven.”

“But you’re ready to go?” you guessed.

“I was hoping to swing by my flat to change, if that’s alright,” he said apologetically. “But I don’t want to rush you. I really can just go in this, I’ll be fine.”

You smiled. “It’s ok, honey, I don’t mind. We couldn’t have done the whole thing in one day, anyway, so we can go so you can get ready for the show.”

“You’re sure?”

“Positive,” you said, kissing his cheek.

He beamed at you. “Thank you. I can drop you by your flat if you want to get freshened up, or you can just hang out at mine and Freddie’s until we leave for the show, if you want.”

“Yeah, I’d love that,” you said. 

“Well, I'd love that too,” he said sweetly. “Come on, then.”

You followed him through the winding rooms and hallways until you got back to the main entrance, thanking him as he held the door open for you. The fall air was crisp and cool compared to the warmth of the gallery, and you tucked yourself close to Roger as you started the walk back to his flat. Brian had taken the van from De Lane so you and Roger wouldn’t have to worry about it, and he'd meet you at the pub with all the equipment and Roger’s kit later.

You chatted as you walked, asking each other questions and continuing to get to know each other. Roger lit up when you asked him questions about music, what he imagined for Smile and how he hoped to be able to contribute songs someday like Brian and Tim did. He admitted he had a few songs he was working on, though he didn’t think they were very good. You made him promise to show you sometime, and he just blushed and said he’d love to.

It was getting dark by the time you got to his apartment building, the cozy glow from inside the flats shining through the curtained windows onto the street below. Roger let you up to the third floor, stopping at the door sporting a tarnished brass 305. He didn’t bother to check if it was unlocked, and you assumed that meant Freddie was already home.

“Fred,” Roger called as he ushered you inside. “I’m back, and I’ve brought Y/N.”

You stood just inside the door, feeling a little bit shy, unsure where you should go as Roger hung his jacket and set his wallet on the kitchen counter. The flat was small but homey, the kitchen and living room separated by a small island; there was a hallway off to your left you guessed led to the bedrooms. A Jimi Hendrix record was playing, and the light of the lamp on the side table by the couch was warm and soft.

Freddie emerged from the hallway as Roger took your coat from you and hung it up, a beaming smile on his face.

“Y/N, darling!” he said happily. “Welcome to our home. It’s lovely to see you.”

You smiled. “Thanks for having me over,” you said. “Roger invited me to hang out for a bit while he got changed for the show.”

“You’re perfectly welcome anytime you’d like to come over, my dear,” Freddie said. “Our home is your home. Can I get you a cup of tea or anything?”

Even though you felt perfectly comfortable with Freddie and Roger, it always made you a bit anxious to go to someone’s house for the first time; you hated the idea of being an inconvenience and were always a little shy accepting hospitality. Roger must have sensed your hesitance, because he put his hand on the small of your back and gave you a gentle smile.

“We’ll both have one, please, if you’ve got any on,” Roger said to Freddie, saving you having to ask for yourself. You gave him a grateful smile and felt yourself fairly glow with affection as he returned it with one of his own.

“I’m no barbarian, Roger, darling,” Freddie said with a wave of his hand. “Of course I’ve got some on.”

He busied himself with making tea as Roger gently steered you into the living room, taking your hand in his as you reached up out of habit to tuck your hair behind your ear.

“Don’t have to be nervous,” he reminded you, kissing your knuckles gently. You blushed and leaned your head against his chest to hide your face.

He chuckled and kissed your hair. “‘S ok, sweetheart. It’s just us. And I won’t be but a minute getting changed.”

“Okay.” You gave a soft laugh. “Sorry I’m being... weird. I don’t know.”

He smiled. “You’re alright, love. You’re welcome to explore, if you want, but it’s up to you. Loo’s the first door on the left down the hall, Freddie’s the door after, and I’m the door on the right.”

“Go get dressed,” you told him, giving him a light nudge towards his bedroom. “I’ll spend some quality time with Freddie.”

“Ooh, I love quality time,” Freddie said, affectionately teasing. He brought two mugs of tea over, handing one to you and one to Roger.

“Alright, then, I’ll leave you to it,” Roger said. He have you a quick kiss before heading to his room, leaving you and Freddie in the living room. You cradled your tea in your hands, sipping at it slowly.

“Did I make it alright, darling?” Freddie asked.

You smiled. “Yeah, it’s perfect. Thank you.”

“Nonsense, dear, you’re very welcome,” he said sweetly. “I’m just going to tidy the kitchen so I won’t have to do it after the show, you can stay in here or come sit at the bar or whatever you like.”

He crossed to the kitchen and started to wash the few dishes in the sink; you looked around the living room and found a large collection of records on one of the shelves of the bookcase.

“Hey Freddie?” you asked.

“Hm?”

“Can I look at these records?”

He smiled. “Of course you can, darling. You can turn Jimi off and play a different record, if you find one you like.”

You thumbed through Freddie’s and Roger’s record collection, discovering that they had excellent and slightly eclectic tastes in music. The records ranged from the Beatles and the Rolling Stones to opera and classical music. Each record looked well-loved, and you were endeared to the idea that Freddie and Roger’s home was one that always had music playing.

“Bloody hell,” you heard Freddie say. “Is that the time?”

You looked over and saw him frowning at the clock on the wall.

“I’m going to get dressed, darling,” he told you, drying his hands on a kitchen towel. “Oh, also, if you’d like, there’s Jammy Dodgers up in the cabinet above the sink.” He gave you a mischievous smile. “Just don’t tell Rog, he’ll eat them all if he knows where I’ve hidden them.”

You giggled. “Ok. Thanks.”

Freddie headed back to his bedroom and nearly crashed into Roger, who was coming out of his room with an eyeliner pencil and an eyeshadow palette in hand.

“Well hello, Rog,” Freddie said. “Where’s the fire?”

“Can you do my makeup?” he asked.

Freddie bit his lip. “I’ve still got to get dressed, darling.” He brightened. “Have Y/N do it for you. Hers is lovely, so she knows how to do it, and that’ll give me time to get dressed.”

Roger looked over to you. “Would you - I mean, only if you want, but - ”

You smiled. “Sure, I can do your makeup for you.”

Have gave you a relieved smile. “Thanks.” He came over and flopped down on the couch, offering you the eyeliner pencil and palette. “You’re wonderful, anyone ever tell you that?”

“You’re the only one that matters to me,” you said, making him grin.

“Is sitting here ok?” he asked. “I can do whatever you need me to do.”

You were a little distracted by how pretty he looked in the soft warm light, looking up at you. “Um, yeah,” you said. You set your tea down on the coffee table. “I’ll just, um - ”

You bit your lip. “Can I sit on your lap?”

His eyes widened. “Oh, uh, yeah, if you want,” he managed. You fought a smile at how adorably nervous he was and how obvious it was that he was trying to hide his excitement at the thought. He patted his thigh. “All yours.”

You briefly debated straddling him before deciding that both of you might implode, and decided on sitting sideways in his lap. His hands immediately went to steady you, resting on the small of your back and over your thigh. You could feel his warmth through the flouncy fabric of your skirt and felt heat rise to your cheeks.

“Hi,” you said, a little breathless with how close you were. You could feel his breath on your skin, his scent of laundry detergent and cologne and cigarette smoke a heady mix.

He smiled, showing laugh lines by his eyes that you hadn’t noticed before. “Hi.” He cocked his head as he looked at you. “You’re so beautiful.”

You blushed. “Roger,” you mumbled, suddenly shy. 

He chuckled. “It’s true. And you’re very pretty when you blush.” He tweaked your cheek gently as if to prove his point, and you felt a little dizzy with how enamored you were with him.

You shook your head slightly to clear it. “Um, so, eyeliner.”

He grinned. “Eyeliner,” he agreed. “And a little bit of eyeshadow, if you wouldn’t mind.”

You opened the palette and let it rest in your lap, looking over the few tones of gold and rose it held. You had the feeling that if you looked through Freddie’s makeup you would find more flashy and outrageous colors, which suited him, but you knew without seeing them on him that these colors would look good on Roger.

“What color were you thinking?” you asked.

He shrugged and gave you a smile. “Whichever one you think is best,” he said. “Freddie usually does my makeup because I’m not very good at it, and he just does whatever the hell he wants. It turns out well every time but I don’t have any say.”

You gave a soft laugh. “Well, I think the gold would look good with your outfit,” you said. He’d changed into snug, dark jeans and a loose-fitting black button down, conveniently forgetting to button the top three; you’d been trying to keep from outright ogling him since he came out of his bedroom. As if he wasn’t enticing enough, he wore a plain gold necklace that rested right at the base of his throat and a longer one with a gold charm in the shape of a bird. 

You couldn’t help yourself; you gently touched the little gold bird on his chest and felt your fingers brush over his warm skin. 

“Pretty,” you said softly. You were a little lost for words, so close to him and so drawn to him.

His smile was gentle. “Thank you.”

You looked up at him. “Close your eyes.”

He did as you said, a smile lingering on his face, his fingers against your back tracing little patterns over your sweater. You studied his face in concentration as you did his eyeshadow for him, using the gold like you’d said you would. It caught the light and shimmered a bit over those long, beautiful lashes that laid gently on his cheeks.

You took a steadying breath when you finished his eyeshadow, relieved you hadn’t messed it up. “I’m starting your eyeliner now, ok?”

He smiled. “Fine by me, love.”

You put your fingers to his jaw, tipping his face up slightly so you could see better. You felt his pulse beating steady and fast; your begged your hands to stop trembling.

“Hey,” he said gently. He opened his eyes and looked at you, putting your hand over his on his cheek. “You ok?”

“Y-yeah,” you managed.

He looked worried. “You’re a little shaky, love. You sure you’re alright?”

You bit your lip. “Um... you - you make me nervous,” you admitted, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. “Not in a bad way, just - you’re very pretty, and I kind of can’t believe I’m sitting on your lap and doing your makeup, and I want to kiss you so bad I can’t think straight.”

His smile was beautiful as wonder and affection replaced the worry in his expression, looking up at you like you were the most precious thing in the world. Your breath caught in your chest.

“Okay,” he said gently. He gave a soft laugh. “I’m sorry I make you nervous, love, I don’t mean to. But you should know that all of that going on in there - ” He tapped softly on your chest, right where your heart was beating fair to burst. “That’s all going on for me, too.”

You twisted the cap of the eyeliner pencil around and around. “Really?”

“Absolutely,” he said, meaning it. “God, sweetheart, I forget how to breathe when I’m with you. I feel like my heart’s gonna give out any second with you so close to me.”

You blushed and couldn’t help a smile. “Hopefully not. I need a drummer with a heart to take me to his show tonight.”

He chuckled. “You’ve already got this drummer and his heart, love.” He kissed you then, slow and tender, drawing you out and stilling the shaking in your hands. You were a little dazed when you parted and gave him a soft smile.

“You’ve got my heart too, you know,” you said softly. You laughed. “You’ve also got some of my lipgloss on you. Hold still.” 

You ran your thumb over his bottom lip, cleaning off the rosy sheen of your lipgloss. 

“I should do your eyeliner before Freddie freaks out at me,” you said.

Roger smiled. “He wouldn’t. He’d fuss at me, but not at you.” He closed his eyes again, and you rested your hand on his cheek to steady it as you drew in the dark color over his eyeshadow. It didn’t look half bad, you thought, but that was more a credit to Roger’s lovely features than any skill of your own. When you were finished, you took a moment to study Roger’s face while he waited patiently for further instruction, memorizing the curve of his cheek and the very light freckles over his nose and the way the corner of his mouth started to tip up in a slow smile.

“Enjoying the view?” he teased lightly.

You blushed and kissed the tip of his nose; he rewarded you with the cutest laugh you’d ever heard.

“What was that for?” he asked, looking up at you with those incredible blue eyes, his face lit up with his smile.

“Just because,” you said, feeling a little cheeky.

He grinned. “Well then - ” He gave you a quick kiss. “That’s just because, too.”

You smiled as you stood from his lap, setting aside for the moment the thought that you’d like to do it again sometime very soon, offering your hand.

“Come on,” you said. “Let’s go take a look and you can tell me how terrible I did.”

He laughed as he took your hand, walking with you to the bathroom. “I’m sure it’s perfect.” He stood beside you and admired your handiwork in the mirror, batting his lashes and giving you a smirk.

“I think it looks dashing,” he said. “Very well done, sweetheart.”

You could see the way your cheeks pinked at his tone and that expression on his face. “Well, I’m glad I didn’t botch it. Gold looks very pretty on you.”

He smiled. “Thank you.”

You were going to try and say something quite charming about him looking pretty no matter what color he wore when Freddie came in, his hands fluttering in a bit of a panic.

“Roger, darling, you haven’t seen my - ooh, that gold looks lovely on you!” He put a hand to Roger’s cheek and looked at Roger’s makeup more closely. “God, your lashes are long, aren’t they? I’ll be jealous forever, dear. But that gold really does look quite stunning on you.”

Roger smiled. “Thanks.”

“Lovely job, darling,” Freddie told you with a smile. “However did you get him to sit still for you?”

“I have my methods,” you teased. You and Roger shared a glance and both couldn’t help your bashful smiles.

Freddie gave a delighted laugh. “Of course you do, darling. Well, in any case, I’m glad your methods were useful. Rog looks good enough to eat.”

“Quite a compliment, coming from you,” you said sweetly. Freddie was indeed dressed to kill, as he always was, in tight black pants, a shiny white shirt, and an outrageously flowered blazer. His studded silver belt matched the cuff bracelet on his wrist.

Freddie winked. “Got to make an impression, darling.” He looked over the counter, searching for something. “Though neither of you have seen my necklace, have you?”

“Which one?” Roger asked. “The dog-collar one?”

Freddie rolled his eyes. “Yes, Rog, though it’s not a dog-collar.”

Roger grinned as he rummaged around in the first drawer. “I beg to differ.” He found the necklace in question, a rigid silver loop with a little black jewel dancing from it.

“Dog-collar,” Roger confirmed as Freddie put it on. Freddie just gave an exasperated laugh and straightened it until he was satisfied it rested perfectly around his neck.

“Well then,” Freddie said briskly. “Are we all ready?”

Roger looked over to you in question and you nodded. “I’m ready.”

“Can I actually - ” Freddie started, reaching a hand out to you. “Can I do something really quickly to your hair, darling? I don’t have to if you don’t want me to.”

You smiled. “Sure,” you said, knowing Freddie’s efforts to style you would be an improvement on your look. You hadn’t done anything with your hair besides put it in a loose bun, and you were happy to let Freddie make you a bit more fashionable.

He grinned. “Lovely! I don’t want to do much, I’ve just got - ” He stepped around Roger, who graciously made room, and took the ponytail holder out to let your bun down. “I’ve got a lovely hairpin I think would go with that sweater.”

He fished around in the same drawer Roger had found his necklace in until he pulled out a slender hairpin with delicate blue flowers on the end. Freddie gently tousled your hair until it fell over your shoulders, loosely pinning your curls back from your face. The flowers caught the light and sparkled in your hair, giving you a touch of glamour, and you wondered at how Freddie was able to work such magic with so little.

“Oh, darling, that looks simply dazzling with your hair color,” Freddie said. “Do you like it?”

You beamed. “Yes, I love it,” you said. You turned your head to admire the pin better in the mirror. “It’s so pretty. Where did you get it?”

“We get all sorts of odds and ends at Kensington, dear,” he said. “I always keep a variety here, because you never know what an outfit might need, or if you might have a lovely guest who looks marvelous wearing little trinkets in their hair.”

You smiled. “Thank you, Freddie. It’s beautiful.”

He waved you off and gave a smile that was a little bashful. “No need, my dear. You brought out the beauty of the thing, not the other way ‘round. What do you think, Rog? Doesn’t it look lovely?”

Roger took you in, from the sparkly blue flowers in your hair to the heel of your shiny black shoes. You felt like a bashful schoolgirl under his gaze and thrilled at his smile.

“Beautiful,” he said, and for a second, that was the only thing in the world that mattered to you. He brushed his knuckles over your cheek and gently tugged at your curls. “Quite lovely indeed.”

You grinned. “Well, now we’re all dolled up, shall we go watch you play some rock ‘n roll?”

Roger offered you his arm in a gallant gesture, making you giggle. “Indeed we shall, my lady.”

Freddie followed the two of you out of the flat, locking it up behind you, and gave you and Roger a fond smile as the two of you walked hand in hand towards the Foxtail for Smile’s show.

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[crazyfreckledginger]

The Outlaws x Reader x Deadpool - “Team Red” [Part 11]

Warning: a lot of description of sex for some reason.

“Jason?” The ginger asked.

“Hmm?” His serious expression feel back again as he lost sight of the girl and got his attention redirected to his colleagues.

"Are you sure this is just friends with benefit?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Of course, it is, she just said-”

“For you, do you consider it friends with benefits? No strings attached?” Roy murmured, leaning closer to him as Wade stood up to go to the bathroom. Jason’s jaw clenched in thought before glancing at him and shrugging.

“Does it matter?” The raven-haired man bit his lip.

“Of course it does Jaybird, she won’t think more of this relationship than, well, this.” The ginger shook his head, patting his friend’s back, “I can tell you don’t consider her a fuck buddy.”

“Listen, Roy, I like what we have, if I may, I adore being able to come home and just, you know, put it in there. If she doesn’t want this to be anything more then I respect that,” He nodded. Roy chewed the inside of his cheek, sighing as he stood up.

“Okay buddy,”

*****

“This is boring,” The girl sighed, sipping from her cup. “Give it time, Roy is nearly finished with the job.” Jason nodded.

“Hell yeah, then we could go party to a strip club with the ladies,” Wade cheered, blowing a bubble of gum. Red Hood stole a glance at the girl and he was sure he saw her frown momentarily before looking away.

“We’ll see later,” Jason grumbled, staring at the screen inside the small van, “Roy, give us a visual.” he commanded.

“Coming right up,” The com responded as the screen suddenly lit up, “gotta tell you Jaybird, eye cams are really bad, we’ll need to find something else in the future because this is just so uncomfortable,” The ginger jumped over the rooftop, maintaining his balance and making sure he wouldn’t be seen despite the dimly lit sky.

“There Royboy, on your left,” Wade pointed at the screen as Arsenal’s cam froze on two sets of vans, two white ones with an unknown logo on them, and two black ones.

“Zoom in Wade,” Jason nodded, the merc shuffled closer to the screen as Red Hood and The Scarlet Witch leaned over to get a better look at the scene. Wade moved the joystick, zooming in on Roy’s camera.

“Scruffy looking dude and bald headed asshole, looks like our guys,” Deadpool commented sarcastically.

“Perfect, now stay hidden Roy,” The man did as he was told, crouching down and placing a small visor on the edge so he could witness the scene.

****

“Yeesh, how long before they are done talking?” Wade groaned, putting his feet up on the table and his hands behind his head.

“Well at least you’re sitting on a comfortable car seat in the warmth, I’m at the top of a building, laying on a dirty concrete floor where people may have done some questionable things in the cold night,” Roy complained.

“Both of you, stop,” Jason chuckled, shaking his head, finding himself sneak a glance once again at (Y/N). She was trouble, her mind had wondered someplace else. The girl wasn’t even facing their general direction. His head tilted back to his teammate.

“Wade,” He whispered, tapping his shoulder lightly, earning the merc’s full attention.

“Hmm?”

“Can you get out of the van for a second? I need to talk to (Y/N),” Jason whispered.

“If by talking you mean fucking then no, I don’t want to stand outside like a dumb fuck whilst the only sounds that could be heard are moans and the squeaks from the van is moving uncontrollably and-”

“No, Wade, I actually have to have a discussion with (Y/N), please?” He begged. The mutant groaned softly, jerking his hands up in the air in surrender.

“Fine, seven minutes, max, with all the fiddling the both of you have been having, I’ve heard y’all, I’m sure you can’t both finish in that time, you can’t be that good at it,” Wade pointed his finger at him. Jason smirked smugly, biting his lip.

“Well, I can’t speak for her but by the sounds of it, she thinks I’m really good!”

“Ew,” Wade shot off his chair and moved towards the door, sliding it open and jumping out.

“Where is he going?” The girl frowned, coming back to her senses.

“He’s uh, getting fresh air, can we talk?” Jason shifted closer to her. She nodded slowly.

“What’s been troubling you?” He pulled her closer.

“Nothing,” She mumbled.

“Babe, I’m serious,” His tilted her head to the side so she made eye contact with him. Beautiful blue eyes locked with her breathtaking (E/C) ones. They were so soft and comforting.

“I just, I feel we could be doing more about Francis you know? Like Wade and I, we know what those type of people are like -- even before Francis I knew because,” She trailed off, “my point is, he’s keeping people and using them as guinea pigs, we should be helping them as well. It’s not against Wade but we need to do more than just looking for a way to reverse his skin condition,” a sigh escaped her lips.

“Hey,” He rubbed her shoulder softly as she leaned into his chest, nuzzling his neck, “we’re going to do that when we finish with Wade alright?”

“You promise?”

“Of course doll, I promise you, as soon as we’re done, we’re going to kick Francis’ ass,” He kissed her forehead unconsciously.

“Okay,” she nodded softly.

“You guys are cute!” The intercom called out.

“ROY!!”

“Oh, look, they are on the move,” The ginger announced. Jason extended his arm to the door and knocked on it, Wade opened it and waltzed inside.

“Woo, finally a little action,” He celebrated, plopping down on the seat. All three of them stared at the screen as the visor showed the two sets of vans moving away from each other.

“Roy, stay in pursuit of the black vans, we’ll follow your tracker, keep us informed.”

“Roger that boss,” He teased.

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[weekendwarriorblog]

WHAT TO WATCH THIS WEEKEND April 26, 2019  - AVENGERS: ENDGAME!!!

This is the big one, the start of the summer movie season – like last year, one week early – but also a singularly movie that is likely to crush pretty much everything still playing in theaters, and that is…

AVENGERS: ENDGAME!!

What’s being promoted as the finale of storylines that have been set-up over ten years of Marvel movies finally hits theaters one year after the fateful ending of Infinity War. Sadly, I won’t be seeing this until early next week, since I’ll be busy attending the Tribeca Film Festival over the weekend. (See more details about that below.)

Still, it’s hard to deny the draw of a sequel to last year’s Avengers: Endgame, which had such an astounding cliffhanger ending that few will want to wait to see this one, mainly to see how the surviving heroes deal with Thanos and get their friends and colleagues back.

I guess that’s all I have to say about the movie (other than my box office analysis at The Beat), until I see it so let’s get straight to the…

LIMITED RELEASES

If you live in New York, I beseech you to go see Pamela Green’s doc BE NATURAL: THE UNTOLD STORY OF ALICE GUY-BLACHÉ  (Zeitgeist Films), narrated by Jodi Foster, when it opens in New York on Friday. It will open at the IFC Center in New York plus a few other cities as it slowly expands to other cities. It’s an amazing story about the first-ever female filmmaker who was around during the earliest days of cinema in France.

Ralph Fiennes’ directs and co-stars in THE WHITE CROW (Sony Pictures Classics), an amazing film starring Oleg Ivenko as ballet dancer Rudolf Nureyev, who travelled to Paris with his ballet company, ended up meeting and falling in love with Clara Saint (Adèle Exarchopoulos) and defecting. Fiennes plays Nureyev’s early teacher, but it’s a fairly small role as he allows his younger cast to shine in a terrific story that covers much of Nureyev’s early life before defecting. It’s a fantastic film, regardless of whether you’re into ballet or not. The White Crowopens in New York and L.A. on Friday.

Not quite as amazing (but a movie I had been looking forward to seeing since Toronto last year) is Justin Kelly’s  JT LEROY (Universal Home Entertainment), which stars Kristen Stewart as Savannah Knoop, the young woman who pretended to be author J.T. Leroy, an abused transgender young man, who was duped by actual author Laura Albert (played by Laura Dern) to help fulfill the ruse for the press and other celebrities. Jim Sturgess plays Geoffrey Knoop, Laura’s boyfriend and Savannah’s brother while Diane Kruger plays Eva, a character clearly meant to be Asia Argento, who made The Heart is Deceitful Above All Things based on “Leroy’s” novel. I was very interested in this film, partially because I interviewed Argento for that film without knowing the story until seeing Jeff Feurzeig’s doc Author: The JT Leroy Story. The movie, co-written by Knoop and Kelly from her own book documenting events, is okay, but I feel that the screenplay could have been a lot more interesting if adapted by a better writer, and I’ve generally been mixed about Kelly’s work as a director, as well.  I guess if you’re interested in this story, you can check this out in select cities or On Demand.

Josh Lobo’s thriller I TRAPPED THE DEVIL (IFC Midnight) stars Scott Poythress as Steve, a man who is holding a man hostage in his basement who he believes is the Devil himself. When his brother (AJ Bowen) and wife (Susan Burke) arrive for the Christmas season, they discover Steve’s secret and begin wondering if the man is in fact the Devil.  I liked the movie’s premise more than the execution, as I didn’t think too much about the cast.

Roxanne Benjamin made her directorial debut as part of the horror anthology Southbound. She also had a segment in the XX anthology, and she now makes her feature film debut with BODY AT BRIGHTON ROCK (Magnet Releasing). It follows a young woman who is working as a summer employee at a state park, but who takes a wrong turn and ends up in a crime scene with no communication to the outside world. Bravely, she must spend the night in the wilderness protecting the crime scene on her own.


Opening on Wednesday at Film Forum is Carmine Street Guitars (Abramorama), Ron Mann’s documentary about Rick Kelly’s West Village guitar shop that’s been where he and his apprentice Cindy Hulej design and build custom guitars for the musical superstars. Some of the guitarists who pop in and are captured on camera include Charlie Sexton, Marc Ribot, Lenny Kaye and Bill Frisell with a special appearance by Jim Jarmusch. If you’re into music or are a guitar player, you’ll want to check this out.

Maia Wechsler’s doc If the Dancer Dances (Monument Releasing) goes into the dance studio of Stephen Petronio as they try to breathe new life into Merce Cunningham’s 1968 piece “RainForest.” The movie is being released in conjunction with Cunningham’s centennial, opening Friday in New York at the Quadand in L.A. at the Laemmle Music Hall.

A Thousand Thoughts

LOCAL FESTIVALS

The big festival starting on Wednesday is the17thAnnual TRIBECA FILM FESTIVAL, which kicks off on Wednesday with Life, Animated director Roger Ross Williams’ new documentary The Apollo, which is having it World premiere AT the Apollo Theater in Harlem. Other special events held at the Beacon Theater, also far north of Tribeca, include the 35thAnniversary of This is Spinal Tap and 40th Anniversary of Francis Ford Coppola’s Apocalypse Now, a special talk between Tribeca co-founder Robert De Niro and his longtime director Martin Scorsese, as well as special concerts/talks following docs about the Wu Tang Clan (Wu Tang Clan: Of Mics and Men) and Phish frontman Trey Anastasio (Between Me and My Mind).  

I’m not sure why, but I tend to gravitate more to the docs at Tribeca than the narratives, maybe because there have been maybe a dozen narratives at the festival that I truly loved. On the other hand, the festival has become renowned for so many amazing docs, and this year, there are goods ones about Stones bassist Bill Wyman (The Quiet One), Woodstock: Three Days That Defined a Generation, Maiden (about the first all-woman around-the-world sailing team), another one about movie sound (Making Waves) and one about a Ohio factory that shuts down but then is resuscitated by a Chinese company that offers the community new hope (American Factory). I’m also looking forward to seeing the doc Other Music, about New York’s indie record store which recently shut its doors. Add to that other music docs like Linda Ronstadt: The Sound of My Voice and Mystify: Michael Hutchence, and there’s quite a bit that I’m going to want to check out. 

Some of the narratives that I’m interested include The Kill Team, starring Nat Wolff and Alexander Skarsgard, and Kevin McMullin’s Low Tide, which has its World Premiere. Also, soon-to-be-released movies like Mary (American Psycho) Harron’s Charlie Says, starring Mat Smith as Charles Manson, and Joe Berlinger’s Extremely Wicked, Shockingly Evil and Vile, starring Zac Efron as Ted Bundy, will screen at Tribeca before their respective releases on May 10.

Hopefully, I’ll find some more hidden gems as the festival progresses.

Up in Toronto, Canada, one of my favorite cities, this year’s Hot Docs begins on Thursday. As the name might imply, this is a documentary film festival with an amazing array of docs, many getting their world premieres. I’m a little busy with Tribeca to go through all that is being offered, but if you live in Toronto, then you should be able to find some interesting subjects covered.

REPERTORY

METROGRAPH (NYC):

Metrograph Pictures’ second release is a restored rerelease of Djibril Diop Mambety’s Hyenas (1992), a comic adaptation of Friedrich Dürrenmatt’s play “The Visit” about a rich woman who is visiting a small African village with enough money to back the man running for mayor of the town. Instead, she reveals that he got her pregnant and abandoned her with child, leading her to a life of misery before coming into money. She offers a bounty to kill the man who did this to her, and the village needs to decide whether they like the mayoral candidate, a popular shopkeeper, as much as they need the money being offered. It’s a pretty fascinating film, beautifully shot, and it’s nice to see the Metrograph reviving it through their distribution arm. On top of that, the retrospective of Brazilian filmmaker Nelson Pereira Dos Santos continues through Sunday, including a few repeat showings. Late Nites at Metrograph  offers Gaspar Noe’s recent Climax, as well as Evangelion 1.0 and Evangelion 2.0for the Anime fans.  Playtime: Family Matinees ends the month with a classic Kurt Russell Disney movie, The Barefoot Executive  (1971).

THE NEW BEVERLY (L.A.):

Weds. afternoon is a screening of Melville’s 1956 film Bob Le Flambeur, while a double feature of Sydney Pollack’s The Yakuza  (1974) and John Woo’s A Better Tomorrow II  (1987) runs Weds. and Thursday. The Extended Version of Sam Peckinpah’s Major Dundee  (1965), starring Charlton Heston, screens on Friday and Saturday, followed by the double feature of Peter Sellers’ 1966 film After the Fox and Elaine May’s The Hearbreak Kid on Sunday and Monday. Tarantino’s The Hateful Eight and the 1983 comedy Doctor Detroit are the Friday and Saturday midnight movies, respectably. This weekend’s KIDEE MATINEE is Lord and Miller’s animated Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs, while Monday’s matinee is David Fincher’s Fight Club.

FILM FORUM (NYC):

The “Trilogies” series continues this weekend with Andrzej Wajda’s “War Trilogy” (A Generation, Kanal, Ashes and Diamonds) on Wednesday, Jean Cocteau’s “Orphic Trilogy” (Blood of a Poet, Orpheus and Testament of Orpheus) on Thursday. Ingmar Bergman’s “God and Man Trilogy” (Through a Glass Darkly, Winter Light and The Silence) screens on Friday, and then Nicolas Winding Refn’s Pusher trilogy begins on Friday then continues on Saturday, April 27, and the third part on May 4. (Trust me, this is not an easy series to watch in one sitting.) Also, Marcel Pagnol’s “Marseilles Trilogy” will screen on Sunday. Film Forum Jr. shows Satyajit Ray’s Pather Panchali (1955), which is also part of Ray’s “Apu Trilogy” for the “Trilogies” series. See how that works?

BAM CINEMATEK (NYC):

BAM is killing it this week with a number of releases including a restored rerelease of Nina Menkes’ 1991 film Queen of Diamond with Menkes present for a QnA on Friday night and a panel on Saturday night. Set in Vegas, it deals with a disaffected blackjack dealer who drifts through a series of encounters. On Wednesday, BAM’s “Screen Epiphanies” series continues with Vanity Faircritic K. Austin Collins presenting Brian De Palma’s thriller Femme Fatale, starring Rebecca Romjin. Lastly, on Sunday, the “Beyond the Canon” series continues with a double feature of Charles Lane’s Sidewalk Stories  (1989) with Charlie Chaplin’s The Kid (1921).

EGYPTIAN THEATRE (LA):

The Egyptian gets in on Aero’s Classic Movie ClownsThursday with a Marx Brothers double feature of A Night at the Opera (1935) and A Day at the Races  (1937) with authors Robert Bader and Josh Frank signing their book. Friday sees a Stanley Donen tribute with a screening of Singin’ in the Rain  (1952), plus there will be an encore screening of the 7-hour War and Peace  (1967) on Sunday and Disney’s Mary Poppins (1964) on Sunday with a panel in conjunction with the Art Directors Guild Film Society.

AERO  (LA):

A new series called “Cowboys and Samurai” begins this week, and it’s little surprise that most of the samurai movies are from Akira Kurosawa. It begins on Thursday with a double feature of Rashomon (1950)and High Noon, then continues Friday with The Searchers (1956) and The Hidden Fortress (1958) and Seven Samurai (1954) and The Wild Bunch  (1969) on Saturday. Sunday’s double feature is Clint Eastwood’s Unforgiven (1992) and the 1962 film Harakiri (1962) (not directed by Kurosawa!). Sunday is also a rescheduled screening of the musical Annie (1982), as part of the Albert Finney remembrance.

IFC CENTER (NYC)

Waverly Midnights: Parental Guidance  continues with Poltergeist  (1982), Weekend Classics: Love Mom and Dad screens Charlie Chaplin’s The Kid  (1921), while Late Night Favorites: Spring shows Jodorowsky’s El Topo (1970).

MOMA (NYC):

Modern Matinees: B is for Bacall will show 1956’s Written on the Windon Weds, How to Marry a Millionaire  (1953) Thursday and then end the series on Friday with a reshowing of Vincent Minelli’s Designing Woman  (1957).

MUSEUM OF THE MOVING IMAGE (NYC):

The museum’s See it Big! Action series continues with two screenings of William Friedkin’s The French Connection 1971) on Friday and Saturday, Bullitt  (1968) on Saturday and George Miller’s Mad Max: Fury Road on Sunday. There will also be a showing of William Lustig’s 1980 horror film Maniacwith Lustig in attendance as part of its Disreputable Cinema series. This weekend is the first I’ve ever wished I lived out in Astoria, Queens.

QUAD CINEMA (NYC):

Wild Things: The Ferocious Films of Nelly Kaplan ends Thursday, but I don’t have any information for the weekend as of yet.

LANDMARK THEATRES NUART  (LA):

This Friday’s midnight movie is John Carpenter’s The Thing (1982), also starring Kurt Russell.

That’s it for this week. Next week: Four new wide releases that aren’t Avengers: Endgame!

[yahoo-puck-daddy-blog]

If Bergeron doesn’t win, who fills NHL’s Selke Trophy void?

As a voting member of the Professional Hockey Writers’ Association, the Selke Trophy has been both encouraging and discouraging.

On the negative side, the voting has leaned hard into reputation-based voting in far too many years. The Selke Trophy has been given to the “forward who demonstrates the most skill in the defensive component” in the NHL 37 times. Sixteen of those winners were one of five players: Bob Gainey, Guy Carbonneau, Jere Lehtinen, Pavel Datsyuk or Patrice Bergeron.

Voters have also developed an odd litmus test for Selke candidates, much like how the Lady Byng has become the de facto “high scorer with few penalty minutes” award.

Selke winners have to have a:

1 – Faceoff winning percentage among the League’s best.

2 – Positive plus-minus rating, and especially a double-digit one.

3 – Offensive stats that are above average, even though this shouldn’t be a primary factor in defensive prowess.

On the positive side, PHWA voters have made an effort to dabble in analytics to make a Selke nominee’s case. Corsi and possession metrics are seen as mandatory in 2017; one hopes that further context will follow.

The three titans of the recent Selke voting are all having self-acknowledged substandard years, and might fail the basic tests.

Chicago Blackhawks center Jonathan Toews, a two-time winner, has a 57-percent faceoff winning percentage, but he’s a minus-2.

Boston Bruins center Patrice Bergeron, second in the NHL at 59-percent on faceoffs, is a plus-2 but only have 29 points in 52 games after posting 68 in 80 games last season.

Los Angeles Kings center Anze Kopitar, who won it last season, is at 52.2-percent on faceoffs, is a plus-4 but has 32 points in 47 games.

Now, the perception is that none of these three are going to win the Selke this season.

Which is, frankly, ludicrous, in one specific case:

That of Patrice Bergeron.

On top of his faceoff prowess, Bergeron is leading the NHL in Corsi percentage at 5-on-5 at 62 percent. He’s second in the NHL for expected goals-against per 60 minutes at 1.82, which is better than his numbers last season.

Now, unless we’re in the Upside Down where Bergeron no longer gets credit for making his linemates better, but instead it’s David Pastrnak and Brad Marchand that are carrying him, this is impressive.

A “substandard” year for Patrice Bergeron is still exponentially better than a career year from an average player. It’s like trying to find a Stanley Kubrick film without merits, or one that pales in comparison to, say, Zach Snyder’s best.

That said, there seems to be enough digital ink spilled on other candidates that a changing of the old guard seems likely. Here are a few:

THE FAMILIAR NAMES

Ryan Kesler, Anaheim Ducks

A previous winner in 2011 and a finalist four times, which is why one would make him the front-runner now – he’ll have the reputation thing on his side.

He’s third in the NHL in faceoff percentage (57.9). He starts over 42 percent of his shifts in the defensive zone (second most in the NHL for players with over 600 minutes), gives up 6.64 (5v5) scoring attempts per 60 minutes, which is No. 10 in the NHL for players with at least 700 minutes TOI.

He’s got a positive Corsi (51.46) and 42 points in 54 games. So yeah, he’s going to be a finalist, as it’s been a year-long lovefest for Kesler.

Mikko Koivu, Wild

Speaking of reputations …

There’s a hard sell happening lately for Koivu, the 33-year-old Wild forward. The highest he’s ever reached in the Selke voting is No. 4 in 2009, but otherwise has been out of the top 10 in every year but 2009 and 2008.

The sell began with his coach, Bruce Boudreau:

“Who’s got better numbers for a defensive forward than Mikko?,” Boudreau after the Wild’s morning skate at Rogers Place Tuesday. “He plays against every team’s top line. He’s plus-24, he’s got 35 points. There’s nobody in the league that has better numbers for what you’re asking him to do. He kills every penalty. He takes every big faceoff. Everything a defensive forward is supposed to do, he does.”

The sell continues on Hockey Wilderness:

Koivu has seen some of the toughest starts in the NHL. At 5-on-5 play, he starts in the defensive zone 43.5% of the time- second most in the NHL among regulars. Players who get that kind of assignment usually don’t succeed offensively, but in spite of his tough workload, he’s taken his teammates to new heights. He’s centered Mikael Granlund, who leads the Wild in scoring, and Jason Zucker, who has set a career-high in points playing alongside Koivu.

That’s pretty good. And when you compare Koivu’s defensive zone starts to previous Selke winners, you get some surprising results. In his 2015-16 campaign Anze Kopitar only started 30.6 of his 5-on-5 shifts in the defensive zone. When Patrice Bergeron won in 2014-15, he started in the defensive zone 38.2% of the time, which is impressive, but still dwarfed by Koivu’s mark this season. In the year before that? Bergeron won despite taking just 33.8% of his starts in the defensive zone.

He’s also got the faceoff numbers (54.8) and the zone starts (43.74 in the defensive zone, most in the NHL), although his Corsi is below par (49.08) – understandable, given how the Wild play under Boudreau.

(It’s also an interesting conundrum for Selke voters that penalize Bergeron for quality of linemates: Have you seen what Jason Zucker and especially Mikael Granlund have done this season?)

Koivu could catch a wave with Boudreau and Devan Dubnyk in postseason awards voting. He’s been excellent, but this seems very much like an “excuse to give him some past due” situation.

Nicklas Backstrom, Washington Capitals

Speaking of “past due,” the fact that Backstrom hasn’t cracked the top 10 in Selke voting in his career is some weird anomaly where anyone in Ovechkin’s aura is automatically a defensive liability in the eyes of dullards.

Once again, he’s 52.4 in faceoffs and playing a great two-way game. Although not as great as we’ve seen from him: He’s 49.16 in Corsi percentage, his lowest in five years. And his scoring changes against per 60 minutes has jumped by nearly two, from 6.79 last season to 8.94 this season.

Like Koivu, there’s always a chance that under-the-radar greatness could finally be rewarded thanks to a dominant team, and the campaign is in full swing for Backstrom. But there’s also a sense that a Selke win this season would be like Pacino winning for “Scent of a Woman.” Hoo-wah.

Henrik Zetterberg, Detroit Red Wings

The old war horse (36) is quietly having an outstanding season on the defensive end, within context. And that context is that he has a Corsi Relative to his teammates of plus-3.9; the Red Wings have their best save percentage (.936) with on the ice at 5v5; and he has by far the best expected goals against (2.19) and scoring chances against (5.97) than any other Red Wing. He’s also 50.7 on faceoffs.

This isn’t the year for Zetterberg to be a dark horse candidate, considering the fortunes of his team – it’s a bit like rallying to the cause of a non-playoff team’s coach for the Jack Adams. But a stick-tap to a guy whose back problems and advancing age had us thinking he was a non-factor. But he’s doing all of this in 2016-17 playing 19:20 per night, tops on the Wings for forwards.

Were it not for Pavel Datsyuk’s shadow, he might have one of these already.

THE PATIENTLY WAITING

Ryan O’Reilly, Buffalo Sabres

There was a brief moment in 2014 when O’Reilly looked like a Selke mainstay, finishing sixth. He hasn’t been better than 12th since then.

This season, he has 31 points in 41 games and a plus-8, winning 57.8 (!) of his faceoffs. He’s one of the only positive possession players in the Sabres at (50.94) for players with over 610 minutes TOI. He has an outstanding 5.79 scoring chances against per 60 minutes, vs. 7.36 SCF.

Again, if the Sabres were a winning team, this would be a totally different story for one of the League’s best two-way players.

Jordan Staal, Carolina Hurricanes

Again, it’s a bit of a joke that Staal has only been a Selke finalist once in his career, given what a force he’s been defensively.

At 58.7 percent on faceoffs and a rock-solid 56.39 percent Corsi, that might change this season given that many pundits are starting to take notice as the Hurricanes inch closer to the playoff bubble.

From Cardiac Cane:

Staal’s stats are comparable to the rest of the group and are second only to Bergeron in most aspects. These other three players are considered some of the best defensive forwards in the league. And Jordan Staal’s stats, while nice, are nothing dazzling; he isn’t blowing away the competition. And that would be correct, to an extent. The thing is though these stats need to taken in with a little bit of context.

That context is the quality of teammates that each player plays with. Patrice Bergeron has David Pastrnak and Brad Marchand on his wing. Anze Kopitar has Jeff Carter. Jonathan Toews has Marian Hossa probably one of the best defensive wingers in his own right. Let’s look at some of Jordan Staal’s past linemates this year: Joakim Nordstrom, Brock McGinn, Andrej Nestrasil, and Elias Lindholm.

While none of those players are terrible, I wouldn’t consider any of them close to the level of talent as those wingers named above. That’s what makes Jordan Staal’s numbers so special.

He’s an elite defensive talent, and might have just enough offense at 28 points in 41 games to get the voters’ attention. Especially if the Hurricanes make a serious push during the voting.

THE NEW FACES

Mikael Backlund, Calgary Flames

Mikael Backlund has never received a vote for a postseason award. Which is incredible because, like, everyone gets a Selke vote eventually. Even Ovechkin has!

When there’s something TSN and Sportsnet agree on, you can be sure it’s going to be support. From Eric Francis:

In the game of life, the man they call “Backs” is winning big these days. So much so, that it’s time for Backlund to be included in the Selke Trophy discussion, as the forward who demonstrates the most skill in the defensive component of the game.

“I think this year he should be mentioned with some of the top two-way centres in the league,” said Flames captain Mark Giordano, unsolicited.

“He’s been that good. He’s been playing against the best players in the league night in and night out. And he’s doing it at both ends of the ice.

He’s second on the team in Corsi percentage (54.71) and is starting 39.49 percent of his shifts in the defensive zone at 5-on-5. He’s also facing the best quality opponents for any Calgary forward.

Backlund has been outstanding, but again, you’re asking a guy who never received a postseason awards vote to surpass some known quantities. Not easy.

Nazem Kadri, Toronto Maple Leafs

Kadri’s an interesting case study, as he’s gotten some accolades for playing a shutdown role against big names this season. There’s no question he’s found that niche on the team after a few seasons of strong production but little solidification of his role. He has it now, and Editor In Leaf see’s him as a Selke guy: 

It wasn’t purely choice that led him to this decision either. Realistically he isn’t going to be on the top-two lines due to the wonderkids coming through.  You’d also imagine with more focus on defense that his offense would natural tail off, quite the opposite. With 20 goals, he has already tied his career best, with essentially half the season to go.

Using the Corsi stats, his CF60 is 63.11 and CA60 is 59.97 meaning the Leafs are averaging 3 more shots with him on the ice. You can use that to suggest that he is also stopping 3 shots with his defensive capabilities.

Kadri is over 37 percent in defensive zone starts, by far the highest for the Leafs’ forwards this season. So not only is he effectively doing the heavy lifting defensively, he’s doing it so the younger players don’t have to. That said, faceoffs (45.8) are going to kill him in the analysis.

THE WILD CARD

Connor McDavid, Edmonton Oilers

Yes, the best offensive player in the NHL this season is also the best defensive forward on the Edmonton Oilers.

Carolyn Wilke had a good piece on the Selke dark horses, and made the McDavid case:

Of course, it’s his “non-traditionalness” that will likely keep him off of most ballots, which is understandable. His one minute of penalty kill time per game, while effective, isn’t very much compared to other guys like Kesler (nearly 3 minutes) or Brad Marchand (almost 2 minutes).

And it’s hard to say that he’s “deployed in defensive situations” when the reality is that coach Todd McLellan would have him on the ice for all 60 minutes if he thought he could. This is in stark contrast to guys like Kesler, Koivu, Silfverberg and Granlund, who are used almost entirely as shutdown players.

And let’s be frank, McDavid’s feet are moving too fast for him to block shots, another hallmark of traditional defensive play.

Now, he’s not going to win. He’ll get a few Edmonton-centric votes, but he’s not going to be in the top 10. Still, file this away: The last time we had a legitimate threat to win the Selke and the scoring title in the same season was Sergei Fedorov in 1996, who won the award and finished ninth in scoring.

Connor McDavid is going to accomplish a great many things in his career. Could that be one of them?

—

Greg Wyshynski is a writer for Yahoo Sports. Contact him at puckdaddyblog@yahoo.com or find him on Twitter. His book, TAKE YOUR EYE OFF THE PUCK, is available on Amazon and wherever books are sold.

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