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hrina · 4 years

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Something Strange

PAIRING: Harry x Reader RATING: R WORD COUNT: 6.3k+ REQUESTED: no

uhhhh hi. so. this is my (first ever) halloween fic, ft. infuriatingly cocky ghostbuster!harry. i really hope you guys enjoy it, and just like every other writer on this godforsaken site, i’d love to hear any feedback that you might have. ok im done now lol go forth and read :)

warnings: cursing, brief nsfw content, a nasty habit of jumping to conclusions, and harry being an asshole with a secret heart of gold.

~*~

October 2nd, 2021

Your attention is first caught by the massive, obnoxiously-coloured truck parked in Mindy and Gerald’s driveway. The entire vehicle is a shade of navy blue, though its sophistication is ruined by the neon green bubble lettering streaked across its doors.

Spooked? Call Styles’ Scares!

Beneath that, there’s a promise painted in bright pink:

Lasting results or your money back!

“What the hell?” you mutter.

You unbuckle your seatbelt and exit your car, momentarily forgetting about the groceries sitting in the trunk. Mindy and Gerald are standing on their porch, absorbed in a light-hearted conversation. When they catch sight of you trekking across the lawn, they smile brightly and offer up a pair of welcoming waves.

“Hi, there!” you call, shoving your hands into the back pockets of your jeans. “What’s all this?”

“Good afternoon, dear!” Mindy replies. She quickly descends the front steps, meeting you halfway and enveloping you in a tight hug. “How are you? It’s been a while since we last spoke.”

“You can drop in whenever you want,” you say, chuckling. “It’s not like I live very far away.”

“How have you been?” Gerald follows his wife, steadily making his way off the porch. “How’s school?”

“It’s alright.” You shrug. “Things are picking up, now, but I’m trying my best to stay on top of them.”

You toss your thumb over your shoulder, gesturing to the bright pickup truck parked in their driveway. (It really is ugly, you think. Probably one of the ugliest vehicles that you’ve ever had the displeasure of perceiving.)

“What’s going on?”

“Oh!” Mindy lifts her hands to her mouth, gazing at you with wide, serious eyes. “Our house is haunted.”

You balk. “Pardon me?”

“I know, I know,” she sighs, shaking her head. “It sounds silly. I didn’t believe it at first either, but—something keeps knocking our picture frames off the wall. And the lights! They start flickering at random intervals throughout the day.”

“Are you sure it’s not just rats?” you joke.

Gerald, who has now joined you on the lawn, holds up his hand solemnly. “We tried using traps, but they haven’t been touched at all.”

“Exactly.” Mindy nods, turning back to you. “We’re already worried about Joseph’s wedding next week, so one of the ladies at the community centre recommended Harry. That same day, Gerald gave him a call, and that was the end of it.”

“Who’s Harry?” you ask, brows knitting together in confusion.

“Er—” A deep voice sounds from behind you. “I am.”

When you turn around, you come face-to-face with one of the prettiest men you’ve ever seen. He’s got mossy green eyes, dark pink lips, and brown hair that curls around his temples and behind his ears. Smooth skin stretches out over high, chiseled cheekbones and a sharp jaw. He’s wearing a pair of light-wash jeans and matching white sneakers. A black hoodie covers his broad chest; upon taking a closer look, you note that the two front strings have been tied into a picturesque little bow.

Mindy wastes no time, introducing the two of you immediately. When Harry holds out his hand for you to shake, you don’t hesitate.

“Did you want my card?” he asks, peering at you curiously.

You study his expression. Beneath his seemingly sincere exterior, arrogance runs wild and unchecked. You know this man. You’ve met him a hundred different times under a hundred different circumstances, and you’ve learned to recognize a lost cause when you’re staring it square in the face.

“Not at all.” You shoot him a fake smile. “I’m just the neighbour.”

“Right.” His lips twitch. He steps back, rolling his shoulders and lifting his chin in the direction of the house. “Well, I should probably get to work. It was nice meeting you, babe.”

Your nose wrinkles as the pet name sinks in.

When you turn back around to resume your conversation with Mindy and Gerald, they’re gone. Your eyes bounce to the right, where you find them guiding Harry up the porch steps. Mindy has one hand on his bicep whilst gesturing animatedly with the other. Gerald opens the front door and holds out his arm, welcoming Harry inside.

You scoff, shaking your head in disdain.

“Ghosts aren’t real,” you mumble as you make your way back across the lawn. The trunk of your car squeaks when you pull it open, and plastic bags rustle as you gather your groceries into your arms.

Ghosts aren’t real. And Harry is obviously a scammer, based on…well, based on everything. The tacky design on his truck. The unprofessional wardrobe. The self-assuredness emanating from every cell in his body. Babe.

But Mindy and Gerald truly believe that their home is haunted. Trying to change their minds without a shred of physical proof is pointless. You blow out a soft sigh, accepting the grim reality of your situation.

Your neighbours are gullible, trusting people. And for the next few days—whether you like it or not—Harry is here to stay.

October 5th, 2021

You’re approximately two seconds away from chucking your textbook against the far wall.

You’ve been trying to finish this chapter for the past hour. And though you pride yourself on being tolerant when it comes to petty annoyances, your patience is wearing thin. A quick glance out of your bedroom window reveals Harry’s hideous pickup truck parked—yet again—in Mindy and Gerald’s driveway.

You roll your eyes. Of course.

The piercing, raucous whirring starts up again; you release a frustrated yell, slamming your book shut and leaping off your bed. You’re muttering obscenities under your breath as you stalk down the hall, stopping briefly to slide on a pair of fuzzy slippers. When you yank your front door open, the chilly autumn air settles into your bones.

The clamour grows louder as you stomp across your shared lawn. When you knock on Mindy and Gerald’s door, the commotion is nearly unbearable. A few seconds go by, during which your presence remains unacknowledged; you rap once again on the wood, hoping that the sound will be conspicuous enough amidst all of the background noise.

Sure enough, everything goes quiet. Your shoulders slump with relief just as the door opens. Mindy greets you with a friendly smile.

“Hi, dear,” she says kindly. “What can I do for you?”

“Hi.” You force yourself to mirror her affable expression, hoping that she can’t see the pained exhaustion brewing in your eyes. “Could I just—could I speak with Harry, please? It won’t take long.”

“Of course.” She nods before peering at you anxiously. “Don’t tell me that you’ve got ghosts, too.”

“No.” You shake your head. Ghosts aren’t real, you want to say, but you hold your tongue. “No, I just—I just need to have a quick word with him, that’s all.”

“Alright. I’ll go fetch him.” She turns around and totters away.

You hear her call his name, followed by the telltale sound of shuffling. After a few long moments, he’s there, leaning against the doorway with a bemused look on his face.

“Evening, babe,” he says coolly. “What’s up?”

“Don’t call me that,” you snap, folding your arms over your chest.

Harry’s eyebrows shoot upward. He hadn’t expected you to greet him with such animosity, you suppose. His outfit is nearly identical to that of the other day, save for the red bandana perched atop his head. He buries his fingers into the pockets of his jeans, shrugging nonchalantly and pinning you with a blasé, unimpressed gaze.

“Noted,” he says. The corners of his lips curl up into a crooked smirk as he repeats, “What’s up?”

“You need to keep it down,” you say flatly. “I don’t know what kind of fake ‘exorcism’ bullshit you’re trying to pull off, but the noise is driving me insane. I need to study.”

“‘Fake’?” Harry parrots. “You don’t believe in spirits?”

“No,” you deadpan. “I don’t.” You narrow your eyes, studying the subtle movements of his face. “And if I had to take a wild guess, neither do you.”

“Really,” he says, chuckling softly. It isn’t a question.

“Really.”

Harry watches you, tickled by your obvious exasperation. “I get the feeling that you don’t like me very much.”

“Look at that,” you say, rolling your eyes. “He does have a brain.”

“You’re so judgmental.” He laughs, shaking his head. “How can you dislike me when you barely even know me?”

“I know enough,” you reply, scowling. “I know that you’re a fraud who takes advantage of people and their fears. And for what? Just so that you can take home a paycheque at the end of the day?”

“Ouch.” Harry feigns injury, placing a large hand over his heart. “That hurts, babe.”

There it is again. Babe.

“You know what?” Your nostrils flare. “Forget this—it’s like trying to explain rocket science to a toddler.”

He grins. “Yeah, I suppose. I’m much cuter, though, don’t you think?”

You scoff, pedalling backward. “In your dreams.”

His delight only seems to grow when your retort sinks in. You whip around, descending the porch steps and storming back toward your house. When you chance a glance over your shoulder, Harry is still standing in the doorway, a shit-eating smile stretched wide across his cheeks.

“Just keep it down, okay?” you call irritably.

He raises two fingers to his temple in a mock-salute, and you march away without another word.

October 8th, 2021

“You’re sure?”

You laugh. “Yes, Mindy, I’m sure. I promise.”

“Alright,” she assents, blowing out a quiet sigh through the phone. “I went grocery shopping today, so our cupboards are fully stocked—help yourself to anything you’d like. Also, when you flush the downstairs toilet, the water may look like it’s rising, but it goes down after a second or two.”

“Noted.” You snicker. “Anything else?”

“That’s it,” she says. “Thank you so much.”

“No problem,” you reply. “Tell Joseph and Amy that I said congratulations, yeah?”

“We will! See you later, dear.”

“See you later.”

October 9th, 2021

When Mindy and Gerald get back tomorrow afternoon, you’re going to wring their necks.

Agreeing to housesit whilst they celebrated their son’s wedding a few cities away? Sure. Fine. You had a long night full of nothing planned—sitting in front of the television, munching on some snacks, relaxing for the evening and trying to forget about all of the schoolwork waiting for you at home. You were in the middle of watching a Golden Girls rerun when, suddenly, there was a knock on the door.

“Coming!” You stood, setting your bowl of popcorn aside. The knocking continued as you made your way to the front entrance, wiping your buttery fingers against the dark leggings covering your thighs.

“I’m coming,” you said exasperatedly. You opened the door, ready to shoo away whoever it was—a salesperson, probably.

Instead, you came face-to-face with Harry.

And now, you’re here—slumped on the couch, angrily shovelling popcorn into your mouth. You keep your gaze trained on the television, trying your hardest to avoid the man who is setting up his “equipment” in the middle of the room.

“Can’t you do this in the kitchen?” you deadpan.

He flicks a switch on his machine—it looks an awful lot like a standard centrifuge. What a fraud.

“Spirit energy’s strongest in here,” he grunts. His knees scuff against the carpeted floor.

A derisive laugh falls from your lips. “Mindy and Gerald aren’t here—you can drop the act.”

Harry glances up at you, his pretty green irises glimmering. “What act?”

You roll your eyes and look away, fixing your attention back on the grainy screen.

Neither of you say anything for the next few minutes; tension builds, saturating the air and making it hard for you to breathe. Eventually, Harry breaks through the awkward silence. You want to scream.

“Er—” he starts, expectant. “Do you mind stepping out for a second? I need the room.”

Your nostrils flare. “Excuse me?”

“I need the—”

“I heard you,” you say, sitting up straight. “You don’t need anything. What the hell are you playing at?”

“I’m not quite sure what you mean, babe.” His tone is genuine, but you can sense the mirth simmering just beneath the surface. His lips twitch, and your frustration boils like water over a stove.

“Stop calling me that,” you snap, folding your arms across your chest. “And stop playing dumb. Other people might put up with your pseudo-spooky bullshit, but I won’t. Ghosts aren’t real!”

The lights go out.

You gasp, straining your eyes in an attempt to regain your bearings. Slowly, blurry shapes and shadows materialise in front of you. You fumble around for your phone, picking it up and tapping the screen. A moment later, the device’s flash lights up the room. You shine it from side to side, eventually settling on Harry, who is looking up at the ceiling in complete and utter bewilderment.

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath. “Now you’ve done it.”

“Done what?” you squawk, glaring at him. “The power went out. Big deal.”

The lights flicker fleetingly, and then the room is dark again. Your eyes drift over to Harry; he’s smirking.

“This isn’t a ghost,” you say stubbornly, waving your phone around. The bright light bounces across the walls before you steady yourself, positioning the beam back on him. He stands, sinking his hands into the deep pockets of his sweatpants.

“And how would you know?” he teases, cocking one eyebrow challengingly.

“Because,” you scoff. “Ghosts aren’t real.”

Something crashes to the floor. You yelp in surprise, your head snapping to the right. When you shine your light in the direction of the noise, you find a shattered picture frame lying on the ground.

“What the fuck?” Harry murmurs, advancing toward the mess.

“Careful!” you say, holding up your hand. He stops in his tracks, peering over at you in confusion. “There’s glass, idiot,” you explain, climbing to your feet. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”

He shoots you a crooked smile. “You do care.”

“I don’t.” Your response is curt. “I just don’t feel like driving you to the hospital so that they can remove fragments from your foot.”

Harry chuckles.

You sigh, squinting at the fallen frame. “We can clean it up when the lights come back on,” you say, mostly to yourself. “I don’t want to risk anything.”

He nods and yawns, stretching his arms out above his head. “Suit yourself, babe.”

“The next time you call me that, I’m going to—”

“What?” he asks, padding over to the sofa. You watch him approach with a deep scowl on your face. He collapses onto the couch, slouching and spreading his legs obnoxiously wide. “You gonna beat me up or something?”

You shake your head in disbelief, stepping away from him. “You’re a piece of shit.”

“So you say,” he replies, unbothered.

“You’re so—”

You break off, producing an angry noise in the back of your throat. Harry winks at you; in response, you whip around and storm away, carving out a path from the living room to the kitchen.

You shine the light from your phone across the cupboards, making a beeline for the fridge. When you pull it open, the cold compartment is dark. Squinting, you reach for one of the many water bottles stacked on the top shelf.

Stupid Harry, with his stupid smile and his stupid eyes and his stupid attitude and his stupid bogus business. You can’t believe that Mindy and Gerald were naïve enough to fall for his bullshit. You need to have a long talk with them when they get back, you think—to ensure that they never swallow a pill this big ever again.

“Thirsty?”

You nearly jump out of your skin, pointing your phone toward the kitchen’s exit. Harry is standing there, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his broad chest. You bring one hand up to your sternum, trying to calm your racing heart.

“Jesus Christ,” you hiss, shaking your head. “You scared the shit out of me!”

He snickers lowly. You turn your attention back to the fridge, grabbing a water bottle and uncapping it quickly. Through the darkness, Harry watches you gulp down the cool liquid; you pretend not to notice.

“Can I help you?” you finally ask, wiping your mouth with the heel of your palm.

“No.” He shrugs. “Just…looking, I guess.”

“That’s creepy,” you reply flatly. He laughs.

“May I steal a bottle?” he says, padding across the tiles. “I’m parched.”

You chew on the inside of your cheek. “I—sure. Whatever.”

And though you try, you can’t seem to tear your gaze away from him. He hums as he opens up the fridge, leaning forward to get a better look inside. You play with the hem of your sweater, standing behind him awkwardly. When he peers over his shoulder, you quickly look away, feigning interest in the marble countertop next to the sink.

“Er—” he starts. He fixes you with an inquisitive look, glancing down at the device in your hand. “Would you mind? I can’t see anything.”

“Don’t you have your own?” you ask.

“Yeah, but you’re already holding yours. Come on.”

You roll your eyes. “Fine.”

You draw nearer, lifting your phone and shining its flash into the fridge. Harry hums, plucking a water bottle off the top shelf with a satisfied smile. When he turns to face you, a puff of air catches in your throat; he’s awfully close, his torso brushing almost imperceptibly against yours.

You stare up at him, stunned. There’s a small mole beneath the left corner of his mouth. Part of you—an insignificant, microscopic part—fights the urge to reach out and run your thumb over the mark.

“I’m sorry for calling you a piece of shit,” you blurt.

He inhales deeply, chest expanding and fitting a bit more firmly against your own.

The contact snaps you out of your trance. You retreat, backing up against the counter to maintain your balance. Harry clears his throat and glances away.

“Thanks,” he says, his voice hoarse.

Unable to find the right words, you simply nod.

The two of you stand there for a long moment, sinking into a pool of uncomfortable silence. Just when you think that you’re going to choke on the invisible tension, a faint buzz resonates through the air. Less than a second later, the power returns, illuminating the kitchen in a wash of warm, brilliant light.

“Thank God,” you mutter. You shut the flash on your phone, sliding the device beneath the waistband of your leggings.

Harry blinks rapidly, disoriented. “Shit.”

“What’s wrong?” you ask, tilting your head to the side.

He waves your question away. “No, it’s—it’s nothing.”

And you don’t really feel like pressing the subject, so you let it go. A tired sigh falls from your mouth as you scan your surroundings.

“Help me find a broom,” you tell him. “We need to sweep up the glass in the other room.”

His lips twitch. “What’s the magic word?”

There he is. The same insufferable man who has been pushing your buttons all week. You scowl, shooting him a displeased glare.

“Forget it.” You drag your fingers down the left side of your face. “I’ll do it myself.”

~*~

“You sure you don’t want my help?” Harry calls, kicking his feet up onto the sofa.

You grunt, crouching next to the shattered glass on the floor. “Positive.”

The broom and dustpan that you’ve acquired from the laundry room are old and frail, but you suppose that they’ll get the job done. You set the dustpan down on the ground, wrapping your fingers around the broom’s handle and trying to maneuver it in an efficient way. It’s no easy feat, but eventually, you manage to create a small, compact pile of shards. Gingerly, you reach for the picture frame, plucking it up from the ground and setting it off to the side. Next, you take your time sweeping all of the fragments into the dustpan, inspecting the floor for any lingering bits.

“Struggling over there?” Harry asks.

You grit your teeth.

“No,” you counter in a matter-of-fact tone. “I think I got it all, actually. No thanks to you.”

You throw the last part over your shoulder, coupling it with an accusatory frown. Harry holds up his hands in surrender, suppressing his amusement.

“Shouldn’t you be exorcising spirits?” you ask. Sarcasm drips from your words.

He chuckles. The couch squeaks as he shuffles around; a moment later, the sound of approaching footsteps reaches your ears. You stiffen when he stops next to your squatted form.

“To be quite honest,” he begins, and you can practically hear the smirk in his voice, “I’m having a much better time watching you.”

“Creepy,” you say. “Again.”

He laughs, lowering himself to his knees. In the periphery of your vision, you watch him pick up the abandoned picture frame, turning it around and studying the photograph inside. His cheeks lift with the slope of a familiar smile, but somehow, this one is different from the others that you’ve witnessed.

It��s real. Sincere.

“Nice, don’t you think?” Harry asks, pulling you from your thoughts.

He extends his arm, revealing the photograph. Mindy and Gerald’s beaming faces stare up at you, a balance of bright grins and crinkled eyes. Subconsciously, your lips curl upward, and you take the frame from Harry’s hands.

“Yeah,” you murmur, running your fingertips over the photo. “They look happy.”

“How long have you known them?” he asks. There’s no malice behind the question.

“Since I moved in,” you say absentmindedly, admiring the ornate frame around the picture. “A few years, now.”

He hums in response. “They talk about you a lot.”

“All good things, I hope.” You cast a wry look in his direction.

He chuckles and nods. “Yeah. They look out for you, it seems.”

“I try to look out for them, too.” You sit back on your haunches, groaning quietly. “Which is why I was surprised that they didn’t come to me when they first thought their house was ‘haunted’.”

Your intonation changes on the last word; you still don’t believe that your neighbours are being plagued by spirits, despite the plethora of peculiarity that you’ve witnessed tonight.

“Maybe they didn’t want to worry you,” Harry suggests.

You roll your eyes. Even now, he refuses to drop the act.

“Sure,” you say. “So, hiring a spirit exterminator—or whatever you pretend to be—was a better move?” You snort softly, climbing to your feet. “How much are they paying you, anyway?”

He purses his lips. “They’re not.”

You freeze.

A beat of silence drags out, during which you swallow your shock. You clear your throat and lift your chin, staring down at Harry banally.

“You’re lying.”

“Nope.”

“You are!” you insist. A short, incredulous laugh tumbles off your tongue. “You are one hundred percent fucking with me.”

“I’m afraid not,” he says.

“Your truck, though...” you say. “‘Lasting results, or your money back’?”

“I’ve got to make it look legitimate, don’t I?” He smirks. “But it’s cute that you remembered.”

Your eyes lock with his, and suddenly, it’s almost impossible to breathe. His gaze is deep, open, and honest. Your lips part, but no sound comes out. Instinctively, your legs carry you a few paces back, veering toward the sofa. You plop down onto the plush cushions, clutching the picture frame tightly between your fingers.

“Then, why—?” you break off, shaking your head. “Why would you—?”

“Peace of mind,” Harry shrugs, still rooted to his spot on the floor. “Ever heard of the placebo effect?”

“You admit it, then,” you say, sitting up straight. “There’s no such thing as ghosts.”

He nods, blinking languidly. “There’s no such thing as ghosts.”

“So,” you start, trying to make sense of the situation, “you let them believe that you’re actually cleansing the house—for free, too—just to—?” You glance around the room, searching for the right words. “—just to put them at ease?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s…”

Sweet. Thoughtful.

“…ridiculous.”

Harry chuckles. “Thanks.”

“I—” You hesitate, depositing the photograph next to you on the couch. “This whole time, I thought you were just…”

“A con?”

You bring your fingers up to your mouth, nodding silently and studying him with big, rounded eyes.

He shrugs.

“I mean, I never really got the chance to explain myself. You’d already made up your mind about me, hadn’t you? So, I thought I’d just let you stick with your assumptions—it didn’t bother me much.”

“I’m a horrible person,” you say, mostly to yourself.

Harry laughs, shaking his head. “No, you’re not. You’re just a bit judgmental, that’s all.”

“You’re right.” You nod again, bowing your head in shame. “I am. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, babe, really.”

You stand abruptly, abandoning your spot on the sofa.

“I should finish up,” you state, embarrassed beyond belief. Harry watches you closely as you approach. You crouch down next to him, reaching for the dustpan with shaky hands. A few small shards of glass are littered at the brink of the collector; you nudge them away from the edge, trying to be as careful as possible.

“Ow!” you suddenly hiss, retracting your arm quickly. You twist your wrist, fixing your attention on a thin cut engraved into the pad of your index finger.

“What happened?” Harry asks, leaning forward.

You shake your head, waving away his worries. “I’m fine, I’m fine. Just got nicked, that’s all.”

“Let me see,” he requests, holding out his own hand.

You pause, taking your bottom lip between your teeth and stealing a quick glance at his face. His expression is concerned, but neutral. Your hesitation is silly, you think—he may be a bit of a jackass, but he’s not going to hurt you. You’ve already condemned him once before, and you were wrong.

You don’t want to make that mistake again.

After a brief moment, you give in, sliding your knuckles into his open palm.

“It’s alright, really,” you say, speaking around the lump in your throat. “The piece was tiny—it hardly broke the surface.”

Harry inspects the laceration closely, and you fight the urge to roll your eyes.

It’s not that serious, you want to tell him, but you refrain from letting the words escape. Part of you is enjoying the way your hands fit together so perfectly. You don’t want it to end—not yet.

“You’re bleeding a bit, babe,” he announces faintly, brows cinched in concentration.

“I am?” You try to tug your arm back, but he keeps a firm grip on your wrist. A low, confused noise echoes in the back of your throat; Harry peers up at you, his features unreadable.

“It’s just a spot,” he murmurs. “Let me.”

And before you can say or do anything else, he’s taking your finger past his lips and giving an easy, gentle suck.

You squeak.

The sound snaps Harry out of his trance; he releases your hand and recoils hastily. You exhale, driving out the stale air gathered in your lungs. When you peek up at him from beneath your lashes, he’s already watching you, shoulders taut with anxiety.

“Sorry,” he stammers. His nostrils flare. “That was weird—sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you say, shaking your head. “Er…thanks.”

“No worries.” He swallows.

“Alright.”

Awkwardly, you wipe your clammy palms against your thighs. Harry seems to be looking at everything except for you; his gaze flits to the ceiling, then to the couch, then to the floor. You gnaw on the inside of your cheek and push yourself up off the ground. The room is painfully quiet as you slowly slink back toward to the sofa.

“I should probably put this somewhere safe,” you mumble, picking up the forgotten picture frame.

Warm air floats over the nape of your neck. You gasp and spin around, nearly toppling over in your haste. Harry’s hands find your shoulders, steadying you and crowding you closer to his chest. You glance up at him; your shallow breaths mingle together in the narrow space, noses only inches apart.

“Is this okay?” he asks, his voice no higher than a gruff whisper. “Tell me. Please.”

In response, you fumble for one of his hands, grappling at his wrist; he loosens his hold on your arms, confused but willing. He’s motionless as you lift his knuckles up to your mouth. You glance down, tilting your head to the side and studying them carefully. Harry says nothing when you press a soft, feathery kiss to the pad of his index finger.

But then you’re dipping the tip of the digit between your lips, and suddenly, he’s undone.

“Fucking—”

He grabs your face in his palms and seals his mouth to yours.

The two of you stagger backward, tumbling onto the couch. Mindy and Gerald’s picture frame slips from your grasp, landing on a neighbouring cushion with a faint thud. Reflexively, your legs part; Harry takes his rightful place between them, slanting his body accordingly. When he applies the faintest hint of pressure, you moan.

“Fuck.” He draws back, his warm breath wafting over your chin. “Don’t.”

“‘Don’t’ what?” you ask, puzzled.

He shakes his head. “Don’t make those noises. It’s—you’re—I’m—”

He curses quietly and reaches for one of your hands. You allow him to guide your palm lower, inhaling sharply when you feel the slight bulge protruding from his trousers. Instinctively, your fingers close over the subtle ridge of his cock. His shoulders stiffen, and his eyes squeeze shut.

“You’re hard,” you murmur, as though it’s the most fascinating thing in the world.

“Not fully.” He swallows. “But I’m getting there.”

“Because of me?” you ask, peering up at him innocently.

“Yeah.” Harry expels a wobbly, disbelieving laugh. “Yeah, babe—because of you.”

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip as the familiar moniker falls from his mouth. He notices your unusual reaction, mouth curling into teasing smirk.

“What?” he says, lifting one eyebrow. “No nagging, this time? I thought you hated that nickname.”

You grip the collar of his sweater and give a gentle tug, guiding him down for another kiss. When the two of you finally break apart, you shrug. “It’s growing on me.”

He smiles.

“Do you—?” you pause, pursing your lips. The question sounds silly—presumptuous, even. Rather than finishing your sentence, you lift your chin, gazing up evenly into Harry’s green eyes and declaring, “I think I want to sleep with you.”

His cheeks dimple with a wide grin. “Is that so?”

You nod.

“Right, then.” He kisses your nose and pulls away. “There’s a condom in my wallet, but…I may or may not have left it in my truck.”

You groan, allowing your head to fall back against the sofa with a heavy thump. Harry chuckles at your theatrics. After a brief moment of contemplation, you compose yourself and sit up quickly.

“That works, actually,” you say, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear. “Grab your wallet, and then we can go to my place. I don’t think my neighbours would be very happy if we fucked on their couch.”

He laughs, climbing eagerly to his feet and shooting you a smug wink. “You got it, babe.”

October 10th, 2021

It’s nearly half past noon when you step out onto the porch the next day. You yawn, squinting up at the sun shining brightly in the sky. There are no clouds in sight; the slight chill of the autumn air tickles your exposed arms. You tug on the waistband of your sweatpants, keeping the material seated firmly on your hips.

“Good morning, dear!”

You jump, head snapping in the direction of a familiar voice. Mindy and Gerald are sitting on their veranda, nursing twin cups of coffee and looking awfully cozy. Gerald smiles at you, folding up his newspaper and setting it on his lap.

“Good morning!” You wave before re-evaluating your words. “Well, it’s technically past twelve, so good afternoon.”

Mindy laughs.

“How was the wedding?” you ask, approaching the side of your deck. You lean against the thin metal railing, combing your fingers through your messy hair. “I wasn’t expecting you to be back this soon.”

“We woke up early,” Mindy explains. “And the wedding was fabulous. Amy wore the most beautiful dress I’ve ever seen.”

“Really?” You grin. “Do you have any pictures?”

“Of course! Just let me run inside and grab my phone—”

“Mornin’,” a gruff voice says from behind you.

You gasp and spin around, bringing a hand to your chest. The sight laid out before you has your heart speeding up, galloping wildly and battering against the confines of your ribs.

Harry’s wearing that same hoodie from last night. Your gaze trails lower—he’s also sporting a pair of grey boxers and white socks. There’s a mug nestled in each of his large hands, his spindly fingers wrapped around the handles comfortably. Your eyes lock with his sleepy ones, and your breathing hitches in your throat.

“Morning,” you whisper, unable to muster up anything louder.

“I—” Harry clears his throat, stepping closer and extending his left arm. “I, er, took the liberty of making us some tea. Hope you don’t mind.”

“No, it’s—” You swallow as you accept one of the mugs, suppressing a giddy smile. “It’s completely fine. Thank you.”

“Of course.” He leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “Sleep well?”

“Mhm.” You nod shyly.

He chuckles. “Good.”

His gaze wanders over your shoulder, and it’s then that he notices Mindy and Gerald sat on the neighbouring porch. Without even batting an eye, he lifts his hand in a friendly wave. “Morning, you two. How was the wedding?”

You turn back toward the couple, a sheepish look on your face. Mindy is beaming, and Gerald is trying to hold back a laugh. Heat creeps up your neck; you wish that the ground would just open up and swallow you whole.

“It was wonderful!” Mindy trills. Her enthusiasm has skyrocketed. You pinch the bridge of your nose, utterly mortified.

“Yes.” Gerald finally pipes up, smirking knowingly. “It was great. What about you, though? How was your night?”

“Fine,” you blurt before Harry can respond. “It was fine.”

The duo share a look, and then Mindy giggles girlishly. You bring your mug up to your mouth, taking a long sip and groaning into the cup. Harry’s arm snakes around your waist, making you jump. You steal a glance at him out of the corner of your eye; he’s fighting a smile.

“Well—” Gerald clears his throat, plucking his folded newspaper from his lap and rising to his feet. “I think I’ll be going, now. Need to catch up on those few extra hours of sleep.”

“Me too,” Mindy says, nodding fervently. She directs her next words at you. “If you pop by later, I’ll show you those photos, okay?”

“Okay,” you croak.

She shoots you one last grin before disappearing inside.

“God,” you say immediately, hanging your head. “That was torture.”

Next to you, Harry laughs. You aim a weak swat at his chest. He snickers, catching your palm and ducking down to drop a gentle kiss against your knuckles. You exhale shakily, twisting your body around so that you can face him.

“Your hair’s a mess,” you murmur, running your free hand through his dishevelled curls.

He cocks one eyebrow. “And whose fault is that?”

You scoff. “Shut up.”

He chuckles quietly and steps closer to you, holding out his mug. You smile in assent, mirroring his movements and clinking your cups together.

“So,” Harry starts, sipping his tea casually, “you gonna let me take you out on a proper date, sometime?”

“That depends,” you say, trying to ignore the flurry of butterflies flapping around in your stomach. “I’ll go—but only if we take my car. I refuse to drive around town in your tacky truck.”

“It’s not that bad!” he protests.

“It’s awful,” you tell him, shaking your head. “It looks it was decorated by a preschooler during arts and crafts.”

“Fine.” He rolls his eyes playfully, giving in. “Any other requests?”

You pause, lost in thought.

“One more, actually,” you say, fixing him with a challenging stare. “You need to come clean to Mindy and Gerald.”

He doesn’t miss a beat. “Alright.”

“Really?” You balk, taken aback by his compliance. “That’s it? But I—I had a whole speech prepared.”

Harry laughs softly, cradling your face with his free hand and kissing you slowly. Your fingers tighten around your mug. When the two of you break apart for air, he shrugs.

“I started considering it after everything that happened last night. Keep your speech, though.” His lips twitch. “You’ll be needing to scold me again in no time, I’m sure.”

Your shoulders shake with a silent giggle. “You’re probably right.”

“Also—” Harry clears his throat, soothing the ache with another sip of tea. “You may want to suggest that they hire an exterminator.”

“An exterminator?” you repeat, blinking in surprise. “But…they don’t have rats. Gerald said that the traps hadn’t been touched.”

“Not rats,” he hums. “Squirrels, I believe. Living in the walls.”

“And how did you reach that conclusion?”

“I’ve been doing this for a while, babe—I’ve seen my fair share of pests. Plus,” he clucks his tongue, “they like to chew on wires.”

“Really?” You sigh distantly, pinching your bottom lip. “God, that sucks.”

“It does.” He nods, wrapping his fingers around your forearm. “But you can tell them later.”

“Later?” you say, brows knitting together. “Why not right now?”

“Because,” Harry grunts. You squeal when he crowds you up against your front door. He cups your jaw and tilts your chin up with his thumb, handsome face splitting into an easy, salacious grin.

“Right now, I’m taking you back to bed.”

~*~

thanks for reading! if you enjoyed this piece, please consider donating to my ko-fi! and as always, don’t forget to share your thoughts. thank you bunches <3

#harry styles smut #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #spookrry #harry writing #ok here it is 🙃 i lowkey feel like its gonna flop but w/e

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hakasims · 3 years

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Shitty Luca Movie Recap, Episode 4

Can’t Watch Nina, Even For Luca?

Don’t Worry, Me Neither. Goodbye.

...

Ok, fine, I’ll talk about the damn thing.

So it’s a warm September night, and I’m in the mood for a Luca Marinelli feature. In my infinite wisdom I choose Nina. “It’s directed by a woman,” I reason, “and women know what’s up.” ‘What’s up’ in this particular case is code for ‘how to frame beautiful men for the female gaze’. Because women can be auteurs, too, and being an auteur means making movies about your own personal wank material.

Turns out, sometimes a woman’s wank material consists less of a gorgeous male form and more of fascist architecture. We’ll discuss the former in due time, but for now, what’s Nina even about? Well, at its core it’s a simple story about a young woman who doesn’t know what she wants, set against the backdrop of the Rome that is almost entirely empty due to most people leaving for the summer. This could have been a fairly straightforward coming-of-age film, but Nina is too indie and up its own ass for that. Literally nothing of note happens in this movie, and it’s all long static wide shots of empty streets, endless stairs, and domineering largeness of Rome’s most famous fascist buildings such as the Palace of Italian Civilization, the Sapienza University of Rome, Palazzo dei Congressi, and, most prominently, the Fountains Hall. (Google what they look like if you don’t know.) Now, I’m guessing those locations weren’t chosen by accident. They could have easily added to the creepiness of the movie — and I’m assuming creepiness was intended; otherwise how do you explain these hoverboarding nuns?

Anyway, the employment of the locations could have been atmospheric and thematic had the shots not been so bland. But they are. Bland, flat, and always looking the same no matter what is happening in the scene. Usually audiences are willing to sit through slow uneventful movies because of interesting visuals or characters worthy of attention, but Nina has neither. The titular character herself is tedious. Even her bad fashion sense is bad in a boring way that doesn’t tell you anything about her. Is she stuck in perpetual adolescence? Is she searching to get in touch with her sensuality? Who knows. The only thing I’m certain of is that she needs to learn to tuck her tops into her bottoms.

Nina spends her days giving singing lessons, going to Chinese calligraphy classes, eating cake, exercising and taking midnight walks in the empty city. She wants to go to China in September — it’s the closest thing to a goal she has — yet she’s done no preparations, and instead of learning Mandarin she’s studying calligraphy. And she’s real bad at it, too.

There are reoccurring visual elements in the movie besides the vast emptiness: stairs, white columns, a jogger, a red dress, animals… You’d think those were very straightforward symbols, but they’re used too sporadically and inconsistently to hold any meaning. For example, animals. Nina is tasked with both helping out in a pet store and house-sitting an apartment with a German shepherd (a good boy named Homer), a guinea pig and a tank full of fish. The instructions she’s given are absurd, like feeding the dog sleeping pills and putting the guinea pig on a diet. And then there’s a supposedly American TV show always playing in and out of diegesis about dogs living in cages and swimming happily in pools, and it looks and sounds like a video off the political section on the dog version of YouTube. It contains timeless classics like “You are a dog born in the age of consumerism” and “Depression is an evil illness now spreading amongst dogs of every breed, dogs belonging to every social class.” The butter commercial from Crazy Ex-Girlfriend could never. And I wish the whole movie was as surreal as this TV program but unfortunately it’s as bland and directionless as Nina herself.

And boy is it directionless. There aren’t any subplots in the movie, no cause and effect, no acts, no structure, no flow; only scenes that happen, and I can’t even find any reasons for the order in which they happen. The scenes also don’t start or end; they just interrupt each other, not leaving any emotional impact. For example, there’s a scene where Nina sees her future self. She’s on one of those midnight walks with the good boy Homer when she sees a couple being romantic. The woman is wearing a long red dress, and the man is in all black. The shot is wide, so it’s impossible to see their faces, but the woman is obviously Nina:

And the man is definitely Luca. I recognized his ass. I’m not joking, guys. It’s his ass:

Also I was later directed to the website of the photographer who took the set photos, and yes, it’s Nina and Luca.

I never forget an ass.

Anyway, Nina, who at this point hasn’t properly met Luca’s character, Fabrizio, sees herself from the future acting romantic with him, and doesn’t react. We don’t even know if she recognizes herself or him or whether it’s even a real scene or a dream. How are we supposed to empathize with a heroine who isn’t allowed to react to her environment?

Whatever, it’s time to talk about Fabrizio. He plays the cello and he’s obnoxious. That’s it. He first appears as a patron of Caffé Palombini, the real-world café Nina frequents (and buys her cakes at). She’s drinking her usual milk shake and reading. At some point, their eyes meet, but neither says anything, and then Nina gets up and runs after the good boy Homer who decided to take a little stroll by himself. She leaves all her things behind: her milk shake, her handbag, at least three books, a whole stack of paper for calligraphy, and her diary. It’s obvious she’s going to come back as soon as she gets the dog. And yet before her feet are even out of frame, Fabrizio gets up, goes to her table and fucking steals her diary!

His next several appearances are random and sporadic, and it looks like he’s stalking Nina, but by the time of his first actual scene she is following him for some reason. Obviously, he can’t let a woman outcreep him, so he ambushes her:

He tells her blankly, “You’re following me,” but I think this scene deserves better dialogue. Thankfully, we have a whole well of predator/maiden media to pull from.

Though I personally believe this is the most appropriate line:

Fabrizio lets Nina know he has her diary in the dickiest way possible: he quotes from it to let her know that he’s read it. He then informs her that he’ll only give it back to her if she continues following him. And it’s not blackmail; “it’s an agreement.” What an asshole! I’m weeping for the dignified cuckoldry of Joseph.

And what was the purpose of that “agreement” plot point if the next time they meet is by chance? Quirky love interest writing, duh. So quirky that the accidental meeting happens when Nina is walking past a phone booth where Fabrizio is… doing a phone prank? I don’t know, I got nothing. Anyway, he’s annoyed their meeting is unintentional on Nina’s part, but he returns her diary, and I guess they start dating? He watches her sing once with what could only be described as a complete absence of emotions:

In the next scene she watches him play the cello after which they go on a date. Nina is wearing the red dress from the vision, but Fabrizio’s shirt is different. I fucking give up.

Their next (second?) date is a romantic dinner on Nina’s roof, and they’re dancing for entirely too long. She then tells him she’s scared of how much she’s enjoying his company, gives him a ridiculously chaste kiss goodnight and… completely ghosts him afterwards. And if you didn’t dislike Fabrizio before, you will now as he starts calling Nina at ungodly hours (including 5:30 am) and leaving her very whiny and increasingly more passive-aggressive, entitled, and accusatory voicemails. At some point he even leaves a voicemail for the fucking dog! He’s like, “Homer, I’m worried, meet me at the café.” Again, quirky love interest writing: extortion, phone pranks and a voicemail for a dog.

Fabrizio then lets Nina know he’ll be leaving town in three days in case she’d like to see him one last time or whatever. And she never fucking does! In any other movie she’d be chasing through the airport, but here she just drops him like he’s a well-tucked shirt! She tells the kid she’s befriended (she hangs out with an eleven-year-old boy the whole movie, don’t worry about it) that she’s afraid to be “like everyone else”, with a job and a boyfriend, so she doesn’t even say goodbye to Fabrizio. At some point she goes for a walk with the good boy Homer, and Fabrizio is also there, and they just miss each other. Even fate isn’t interested in that romance.

And then all the fascist buildings get covered in gigantic paper figurines, and the red-dressed Nina runs into Fabrizio’s arms. Because of course.

Nina is one of those movies where the main theme — a struggle to grow up — is obvious, but the rest of the elements are a mess only the writer-director could decipher. And I don’t really care. Again, I had to read Japanese postmodernists at university. What I do care about is the male form I mentioned at the start. I know I have no one but myself to blame for my expectations of how the director should have framed Luca’s body or face, but it’s one thing to frame him blandly and a completely different thing to isolate him as the only character (or actor) she’s deeply uninterested in filming competently. Everyone else in the movie gets their fair share of close-ups and decent lighting whilst Luca — whose name is literally second in the credits — gets, um, neglected.

This is his introduction:

These are literally all his close-ups:

Should I even count this last one? What’s with the lighting? Like, this is as well-lit as his face gets:

Oh, the shot is too wide and you can’t see his face properly? Well, tough poop:

Are you kidding me with this shit?

Nina may not be objectively the most terrible of the movies Luca’s been in: I’d argue both Mary of Nazareth and L’ultimo terrestre are worse, as is Slam, whose time’s a-coming. Nor is it the movie where Luca appears the least (The Great Beauty’s literal one minute of screen time is saying hi). But it’s the only movie I have no reasons to watch: it’s blandly shot, poorly structured, badly themed — and it’s actively obstructing Luca’s beauty and charisma. So no matter which film you’ll ask me to do next, at least in terms of the visual component of my posts, we have nowhere to go but up.

#luca marinelli #nina #nina 2012 #sh*tty luca movie recap

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youremyonlyhope · 3 years

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Starship Rewatch

10 years ago today (well, yesterday since I’m posting it a day later), 15 year old Hope curled up on her couch to watch a new StarKid show called Starship right as it dropped. This was the first time I got to watch a show when it was posted since I didn’t become a StarKid fan until a months earlier. I was so excited.

And now, I’m rewatching Starship for the first time in full in at least 5 years I think. I listened to the soundtrack twice earlier today, singing along at my desk at work (thank god no one else was here tonight to judge me). I still know so many of the lyrics. And so many little jokes and stuff were flooding back. Starship was my favorite StarKid show for a long time, so I’m so excited to watch this again to see if it’s still my fave.

This post ended up being really long, so you’ve been warned. But it also includes pictures of the crocheted Roach and Bugette plushies that I made as a teen.

OH. THE OLD LOGO. AHHH. I already have so many feels. The future is now! I can’t handle this. The nostalgia! The Galactic League of Extraterrestrial Exploration. My facebook account to this day says I am a Starship Ranger at the G.L.E.E. because I’ve never bothered to change it. Also, shoutout to anyone from the StarKidPotter FB and EFST days if you’re reading this. AHHH IT’S CHRIS AND ERIC. Ok I might have to pause 20 thousand times during this Starship Ranger ad to acknowledge all the StarKid cameos. Tyler! “We come to conquer... in peace!” Tyler I love you. Brian and Richard! I forgot they painted Richard BLUE. Britney and Ariel! Nicholas Joseph Stauss-Matathia! I see that StarKid’s website has shortened his name to just Nicholas Strauss but remember the days when we’d purposefully say his full name? Anyway, I literally just screamed “NICK” when I saw him because he was always one of my faves. The Old Snatch was and still is iconic. Devin and Lily! The Wizard God himself, AJ Holmes. God... remember those AJ Holmes appreciation days where we’d make Chuck Norris-like memes about AJ? So much is rushing back from the depths of my mind oh my god... It’s been so long yet it feels like yesterday... “Someone really *static* F- *static* -ucked up big time” Love it.

2 minutes and 22 seconds in. I’ve written so much. I had to pause before Joey started singing to take a moment. I love this show so much. I love these goofballs so much. And they’re all so young. Most of them are younger than I am now. This is insane.

Ok I have to promise myself not to pause as much now. *Spoiler, I failed*

“I’ll fight off this gamma radiation if it’s the last thing I ever do!... We’re going down! This is the last thing I’ll ever do!” Oh my god. Look at baby Joey. He hasn’t even graduated from college yet. And that Bug puppet! Someone remind me to dig up the pictures of my crocheted plushies of Starship puppets since I made Roach and Bugette and gave them to the StarKids at SPACE and Apocalyptour. (I also did Rumbleroar, but the bugs were my own pattern I made so I was more proud) The camera is focused in on Bug instead of Joey’s face. I love it. So much. Brannnttttttt. My god. Am I gonna freak out over every single entrance? Roach pretending to die, he’s the best friend ever. “The needs of the many bugs outweigh the needs of the few bugs.” “Or the one bug, I know.” Oh man, when that line comes back... “Dirt eater” “Exoskeleton polisher” “I wanna build honeycombs” “The bug that ruins your picnic” “A fly on the wall!” That line came back to me earlier today and I died. Remembering that line was like 50% of the reason I listened to the soundtrack today.

Nick Lang! Julia! LAUREN LOPEZ. THERE SHE IS. Lovebugs, I can’t. *Sentimental music* “You could come over to my nest and I could... tear off your head and let my larva devour your body?” How did I forget that line? The way Lauren has to kick Bugette’s larva sack to walk. But the way that it also works so well with the character. I can’t. The Mosquito Brothers!! I forgot they show up so early. “This is our sister, Sweetheart” “...YO.” I CANNOT HANDLE JIM POVOLO. The “zzzz”s like buzzing as backing vocals instead of the usual “ahs” and “oohs.” The things you don’t appreciate until years later. Darren, you genius. That is such a good detail. For a second I couldn’t remember who the Overqueen is played by. 99% sure it’s Jim (It is). Also. Overqueen like ovary... and it looks like a giant vagina. That had to be pointed out to me later. “FLATTERY WILL GET YOU... everywhere.” Why did I forget that line too? “I’m a starship ranger” “Quiet you, you’re drunk” “No I’m drunk!” I remembered that line probably like... 2 minutes earlier when I noticed Joe huddling in the background and realized that line was coming up. The way Joey lets go of the puppet so both he and the puppet walk away with their arms limp... so cute.

Before even pressing play on part 3, I can hear February saying “Let the record show I am super ahead of schedule.” and I’m dying. I forgot about Brian as the escape pod. Denise Donovan! That Star Trek prop. I’m dumb so I can’t remember if it’s a communicator or what. But I know my Uhura Barbie had a mini one that I lost within a month probably. “OxyGen” “Schience” I can’t. “Mission Log... I think I just heard a spooky noise.” How am I forgetting all of these amazing lines? “Pika-pi!” AHHH I JUST SCREAMED. “My stars, I seemed to have landed in a field of these aMiNals!” I can’t. “Can I tell you guys something?” *port de bras and falls gently to the ground* “Hello!” “TOTORO!” I’m dead. The balloon mechanism on the mosquitos! I forgot about that! “HOLY SHIT IT’S A BUUUUGGGGG” Ok something I noticed but didn’t mention earlier. The bug puppet that Joe uses when he says “I had my heart set on nourishment” is the same one red and pink one that Julia used when talking about wanting to be nourishment. When Julia actually gets eaten, she’s using a different bug puppet, the green and pink one, but the same character voice. So, I can’t tell if they intentionally had her play 2 bugs so Joe could be one of them later, or if it was a mistake. I might also just be overthinking things. “ME THINKS IT WENT THAT-A-WAY” I cannot handle Jim Povolo. That scream Joe does as he slimes her. Woah I originally wrote “There seems to be no signs of intelligent lifeforms anywhere” earlier and then deleted it since I don’t know why I found it remarkable. And then looking at the comments of this part I see someone mentioned a Toy Story reference. So that’s why that line stuck out to me. Aww StarKid. There are so many Disney references in this show.

THERE SHE IS. THERE’S MY GIRL TAZ. The pew pew effects how could I forget that! “Hey Taz. You’re pretty tough for a chick.” “I was just going to say the same thing about you.” “Woahhhhhhhh” JoMo oh my god. “My spectrometer readings are off the wazooooooo” That line kills me. Why am I JUST NOW noticing, 10 years later, that Tootsie enters this scene with his gun facing the wrong way. Oh my god. “I saw the empirical proof that science killed god. It’s comforting to know he was once alive though. I like to think that when he died, he went to heaven.” Oh Tootsie Noodles. “...What the hell kind of name is that?” “He’s got bear hands??” Why do I forget all of these lines??!? That record scratch and freeze frame to go “BOOOOOO” oh my god I forgot that. “Like the other day, he was in the cafeteria, just cah-rying in front of everybody.” BOOOOOOO. Here we go, Taz’s amazing Up monologue. “And when Up, cuts an onion, the ONION is the one who cry.” HELP. Also 99% sure I used that joke for AJ appreciation at least one year. “Now take a walk off my knife” What a line. So awesome. I remember having a profile pic on FB that was the text of that monologue and the image of Lauren screaming “WALK IT OFF” I’m still convinced that first “WOO” from the audience that we hear when Up enters is Darren. “I do not peepee sitting down” “Huh??” JoMo’s face as if he’s trying his hardest not to laugh and I can’t tell if that’s him breaking character or if Krayonder is actually trying not to laugh. “I peepee like big boy, deadgoddamnit. So stop making fun of me because it hurts my feelings” I’m dying. Also, deadgoddamnit is amazing. “if you don’t go out there and die for something, then I will kill you for nothing.” I remembered the mirror scene, just seconds before it started and already started laughing. “You’re not a failure, overall.” “Allow me to introduce you to the final member of your team. MegaGirl!” I forgot how DRAMATIC that was. I also forgot that’s how MegaGirl comes into the story.

I need to stop pausing every 5 seconds oh my god I’ll never finish this tonight if I don’t.

“All hail AstroBoy” That was the funniest line. “MegaGirl, can you kill humans?” “No. But I’d like to.” I can’t handle it. “A horse ate my cousin! Me and horses got a feud.” #1 MegaGirl doing the “I’m watching you” hand sign. I can’t. “Hey. Miráme. *Slaps* NOW ESCHUCHAME” amazing. “Or that time. You taught me calculus... CALCULUS WAS TOUGH.” I never went past pre-calc. Nope. Ah. Get Back Up. One of my fave songs. “And now we dance.” Dylan’s “OW” as they lean back. “Ok Idiotas. Say something nice. Or I will kill you.” It’s all so iconic.

“So you still think being an egg planter is lame?” “...Yes.” The larva oh my god. I forgot we see one before the end. That’s Jaime playing the larva I think. Life is definitely one of my all-time favorite StarKid songs to this day. I wish it was longer. I love it so much. And I love that its instrumental is scattered as a motif throughout the show. “It’s a short, small thing we lead. With so much potential, pointless or essential, which one can I be?” Wow. Near Pippin levels of giving me an existential crisis. Also wow Joey improved his singing so much between AVPS and Starship. “My name’s Bug” “*Gasp!* Like a bug??” “Uh... no.” “Good. I’m February, like the month, but a person.” I should start saying that honestly. “I’m Hope, like the concept, but a person.” “You boldly go where every man -hey- woman -bark woof- or data dog has ever gone before! Sorry K9DX” Adorable. Joey’s subtle little double nod he makes the Bug puppet do when he’s shocked she thinks he’s a Starship Ranger. Amazing. Ah he said goddamn not deadgoddamn! February should have known right then he wasn’t human! “Take my claw” that too. "The only thing that needs to rest are your jokes, because they are so tired.” “Woahhhhhh” No but like... why don’t I use that line in everyday life... “Now I am slightly less weak.” “Ok. I’m going to shoot this metal bitch!” I’m dying. How did I forget the Taz/MegaGirl rivalry?? “That thing is a R-O-B-O-T man” “Can’t fool me with numbers, Krayonder.” I’m dead. “The stack of hay was my cousin!” #2 The way Meredith says “barometric pressure” is great. And Tootsie saying “Well you must take real good care of it, because I never would have guessed.” He’s such a sweetheart. “Nobody shoot dammit, nobody shoot.” “KILL KILL KILL” I never really liked Hideous Creatures but it’s so cute to see MegaGirl do the choreo robotically. I love that the Gap hasn’t changed. “Cool it skank, you do not know me.” Another line that I forgot until a split second before it was said. I’m so glad whoever edited this added some pews going in the wrong way for Tootsie’s gun. I know I definitely noticed Tootsie’s gun was backwards during this part, but I don’t know if I noticed it was backwards in that very first scene too. I forgot about MegaGirl tossing out Specs. That “MEGAGIRL!!!” scream from Joe though.

“Never in my 6 long days of life.” Underappreciated joke. Also, I think this is the 4th unique upright bug puppet. We got red/pink, green/blue, green/pink, and now red/blue. Also, Nick Lang is a great puppeteer. “Yes, I helped her escape. But I swear, never in a million years, did I think I’d be caught and yelled at for it!” Oh I forgot Bugette is the witness. Jaime’s angry face behind Joey is killing me. “He didn’t know the humans were evil.” “Oh, they’re not.” “Shut up!” Humoons and hoomans. “And no more singing or dancing” *gasps of horror* “The Overqueen has overspoken.” “Well, that’s not gonna help your chances with Bugette” Oh Roach. “PERHAPS.” Jim destroys me.

God the 4-person Pincer puppet. Amazing. Dylan’s arms being strong enough to be above his head for 10 minutes straight. Amazing. Also, Nick Lang is so emotive as a claw. It took me a sec but yeah JoMo is the tail. “There were? Where are they?” Joey’s face. “Tell me all about her” The claws under the chin I can’t. Hey StarKid, I see you throwing in an ad mid-video before Kick It Up a Notch. You’re lucky I love and support you guys. “Put ‘em together and what have you got?” bibbity boppity boo. More Disney references! This scene is full of them. Man, remember when we were all blown away by Dylan’s voice in this song the first time? Like we could tell he could sing in AVPM/S, but his songs were just so jokey and only his long “Welcooooooooooome” showed us his talent. But then Kick It Up a Notch happened. And we FINALLY appreciated Dylan’s beautiful voice. “I pushed it to the limit.” and “To coin a phrase, be a man.” more Disney. I might be overthinking this and will have to rewatch Life to confirm, but I think the camera zooming out as Pincer reprises Life is just like the camerawork when Bug sang it originally. If so, then wow even when filming their shows StarKid really thinks it all through. (Update: It totally is referencing the original zooms for Life and that’s amazing. Except it’s zooming out instead of in. I LOVE the attention to detail even in filming the show. I’m gonna guess that’s Liam’s doing.) All I can see when I hear Bug’s chorus of this song is Jaime and her SPACE tour dancing, which they incorporated in Apocalyptour as actual choreography. Because they’re goofballs. The kick line. Love it. God. Even though it’s not my favorite song from Starship (just because I love Life and Beauty more), Kick It Up A Notch is one of the best StarKid has ever done. I really has everything. Dylan’s gorgeous voice. Not one but two reprises of earlier songs to throw Bug’s own words back at him. Jim’s bass line. Awesome puppets. Disney references. It’s so amazing. I love how all the comments are either about Dylan’s voice or Dylan’s ability to hold his arms up for a 10+ minute scene or both.

"Gameover man, gameover!” “I feel like cutting open your belly, and filling it with jelly” *Gasps* Oh my god, I put on the captions for a second, and the caption said *Sad spayed puppy noises* “I am in charge of this mission now.” How did I forget about the mustache until 2 seconds before it happened? “She’s got the mustache now. *Kisses head* I love you” Oh my god Tootsie. I FORGOT ABOUT THE SECOND STACHE. There’s an ad right when we see Bug’s human form and I can’t even care because look at him! Ahhh. And the blue headband! Ahhhhh. Joey you’re so adorableeeee. “Bug? Well that’s a fine name.” His concerned face then the relief. Adorable. “Thank you sir. I am a tough bitch.” “Getting nothing but bug muff?!?” I love the slight delay the audience has before laughing as they realize what was just said. “Bug. You hard, ese. You flame.” I die. “Up there. In Space!” *dramatic pointing* No I totally didn’t just do the dramatic pointing with them... no that’s not in my muscle memory from 10 years ago... why would you think that. I’ll rave about Status Quo after it’s done. “But, what if I miss you?” Awwwwwwwww. And that “Just look up.” screenshot was used for “This.” memes in the fandom for years.

Oh Joey. Status Quo is such a good song too. And he really did improve as a singer to sing it. Earlier this week I remembered that this week is also the 10th anniversary of that time Darren was hopping from city to city every single day to promote the Warblers album. And at one point in that week he did a livestream that I remember rushing home to watch. In that livestream, I am 99% sure he sang Status Quo as a little sneak preview for Starship being released later that week. (Just checked, yep he sang it in a livestream on April 20 2011) God I love this song. Then the version the boys all sang for SPACE Tour was beyond beautiful too. Ahhh I love this musical.

Ok. It’s almost midnight. I started this 3 hours ago. I’m probably not finishing the show until 2am at the rate that I’m pausing and stopping to comment. But OH WELL.

“Dr. Spaceclaw” wow. “Leaving them behind was of little consequence, but a pleasure.” Oh Megagirl. “You did a very good job today too, son.” “*Gasp* Thanks dad.” That Star Wars fake-out though. Speaking of Star Wars, I really need to rewatch Ani now that I’m actively a Star Wars fan unlike last time when I still wasn’t invested in the movies I just watched them. How did I forget about Jaime playing Junior’s new mom?? ...Does Junior get an alien incubating in his chest... is that foreshadowing... I can’t remember. (This was like... half a foreshadow) This scene is funnier now that Breredith is married. The way Junior says “Phew” I’m dead. I remembered how they restrain MegaGirl once again 2 seconds before it happened oh my god. “We deserve bubbles on our skin.” An iconic line. “Well thank the long dead god you made it, Bug!” The crunching of the handshake, I can’t. Oh someone in the comments pointed out that Bug and February are doing the Tarzan hand thing while Up’s asking Taz to see a movie. Adorable.

Get yourself a man like Tootsie who won’t stand for you talking down about yourself. “Maybe this was all part of God’s plan. He made before he died.” I love the dead god jokes. I remember years ago some kid on facebook was like “The dead god jokes are offensive” and I was like “It’s a sci-fi musical about a bug in a human body but sure worry about god being dead.” but probably in an even more immature answer. I’m just mesmerized by Tootsie and MegaGirl’s verses. God. The first Dylan and Meredith duet. Amazing. And MegaGirl’s confused face is great. “Don’t press that button, or we’ll all be sucked into space.” So... Can anyone tell me what foreshadowing is? Oh shoot... ok wait no I’ll comment on that when we get there. God that is such a cute love song. I wrote barely anything just because I love that song so much. Would love to know where Tootsie’s taking her though.

Oh my god this scene! I forgot about this. How could I forget this. “Well the world always looks a little bit brighter, from on top of a lap.” I had remembered Bug sitting on Up’s lap, but not Specs. This is the part I forgot. Adorable. Ahhhh so cute. The Specs/Krayonder relationship was apparently cut from the filmed version, but was present if you saw it live. These moments are adorable. And I love how this is the second person JoMo’s had to carry in this show since he also carried Denise earlier. “Why if it isn’t Bug, my oldest friend.” and “Don’t say that, my dear.” are adorable. Oh wait. Up sat on Bug’s lap. Not the other way around. Ok. I didn’t remember this scene as well as I thought I did. I’m dying. I didn’t want to write anything during this, but oh my god “That son of a bitch Optimus Prime” I forgot that. I love the audience’s reaction to “The entire right side of my body, it’s a robot” because they all gasp, and then laugh at themselves for gasping. I knew there was something he couldn’t do without crying. I didn’t remember it being “Sir I Wanna Buy These Shoes” Christmas Song. It’s ok Up, I haven’t listened to that song in full in years. I can’t handle it. But Christmas songs in general make me cry too. Oh Up said goddamn instead of deadgoddamn too. Hmm... Aww the mother spider story. “I think the old you was just killing out of hate.” “Oh I was.” I’m dying. Awwww the nose kiss. I definitely remembered that. “Deadgodspeed soldier!” The way Joey misses catching the keys and also Darren’s “Woo!” in the audience again. So great. That 12 minute scene is just adorable and the Up story is so dramatic and hilarious.

Hmm finishing before 2am might be ambitious... “Hahaha. Then I’ll shoot him!” “Taking care of my business down on the planet is that cool with you?” Brian’s delivery of that line has always intrigued me. “How much I care about my MegaGirl unit’s survival is also a percent equivalent to zero” Rude. “You are nothing like my boyfriend, Tootsie Noodles.” “Yes, well - wait WHAAA” This scene is so different now that they’re married. “Ha. Ha. It was cute.” “You’re... a toaster.” *Slaps* Ok 1) I used to use that insult all the time and only half ironically. I was a strange teenager. 2) She just hurt a human... isn’t that against programming, or can she just not kill humans? Evil angry Brolden is something we need more of. I love Brian as a villain. More please. “You stupid goddamn robot” So I guess they say goddamn and deadgoddamnit. I’m overthinking the evolution of language in this universe. Also Brian’s screams while being choked are amazing. I’ve never forgotten those, if anything they’re better now.

AHHHH I REFRESHED AND DELETED ALL OF MY STUFF FOR BEAUTY. Kill me. I’m so mad. Let me try to recreate it but I hate myself. I was saving this draft after every part but OF COURSE I don’t save after my favorite song and then refresh.

Oh poor Meredith. Her white wig doesn’t let her blend in as much when she’s in the hoodies playing a bug. “Oh hey Bugette, we’re just trying to get Bug laid!” That bug had to know about Bugette’s crush though? That’s just cruel. “The ending is killer” ruuuuuuddddddddddeee. I know I had at least one more point, but that’s lost to the ether. Beauty is probably my fave, if not tied with Life. When I was listening to it earlier, I was overcome with emotion because it’s just such a joyful song. These days I cry over happy stuff almost as much as I cry over the sad. And these lines just hit so hard... I love it. I love this song so much and this scene so much. “Bug. She excreted her filth for you. WE DID IT!!!!!!!!” Brant Cox is so good. It really is a shame he’s not in anything else besides AVPSY and the 10th Anniversary with everyone else. “I do accept you for who you really are. A genius.” Well February, you’ll be glad to know that you thought of that, so you’re the genius. Wow. Junior’s 25, Brian was 25, and now I’m 25. This really was perfect timing for the 10th anniversary. Also I do not feel 25. “Suck off!” amazing.

I’M SAVING THIS TIME.

Ok next part. Luckily I was only 1 minute into the next part when I refreshed. Still so mad at myself... “Someone really firetrucked up big time” (Dead)God I love that line. I also used firetruck unironically. Once again, I was a strange teenager and I didn’t like cursing and I still don’t. “This is so weird, I’m so used to the scrambly version.” (It was while writing this line the first time that I refreshed and lost Beauty....) Ok as I watch AJ, it’s hitting me that he almost definitely came to the set during rehearsals and filmed his part since it’s not a green screen like the rest of them. “The hunters have become the hunted, and it’s wabbit season.” “That was a good video, until the end when it got sad.” Thanks Bug. “I think, I just had a think” See February’s smart. “I’m in a weird situation” Love that line. “Bug is a BUG!? I DON’T BELIEVE IT” Oh Junior. Dylan’s insulted face at “I am not... a dumbass.” So I can’t tell if Brian forgets he’s trapped when he moves his arms into a more relaxed position to lean on the column and then puts them back, or if it’s purposefully staged that way. Brian’s acting while he pretends to be shy and embarrassed about his evil plan is amazing and adorable. Brian has a good evil laugh, why don’t we get him as a villain more often? Also I was gonna make some sort of joke about Nick as Pincer’s left claw vs. Robert as Snarl’s left paw, but I’ll leave it be.

I FORGOT ABOUT THAT WEIGHT TAZ WAS LIFTING JUST FLOATING UP TO THE SKY WHEN SHE LETS GO. I just laughed out loud. “Damn that G.L.E.E. They’re always making twisted abominations of everything!!” I cannot handle it. And the wink. Poor Darren but also not poor Darren at all. I was just now WRACKING my mind for who could possibly be playing Pincer’s tail if JoMo was being devoured by mosquitos. It’s Brant. Literally the entire cast is currently onstage. Ok Krayonder’s been getting his blood drained for 3 minutes, why is he alive? OH I FORGOT KRAYONDER GETS UP AND SHOOTS THE BUGS. Ok and he gets chopped by Pincer’s claws too so HOW does he survive? StarKid answer!!! I forgot how dramatic this musical gets when you got both the bugs and MegaGirl coming after the humans. Aww the Vulcan salute from Specs. “I changed my name. To Tootsie... MegaGirl.” I love the reactions of the people in the audience who immediately realize what that means. I hear at least one “oh my god” that sounds like sobbing. Awwwww Tootsie’s “that’s real” speech and “I’d love you if you was the horse that ate my cousin.” (#3) just... get yourself a man like Tootsie MegaGirl. He is perfection. God the downloading love scene is so cute. I can’t handle it.

The Up saving Taz scene is so dramatic. Then Brian and Jim just calmly walk offstage. It kills me. Also why did Jaime just continue to lie there? “I just needed to learn how to kill with my heart.” Not exactly what Bug meant, but it works. God Taz climbing onto Up’s back is still the most hilarious thing ever. Whoever thought of her climbing that way was a genius. So funny. I always wanted to try it. Holding the gun up to her head like a blowdryer always gave me anxiety. Making the door out of a scrim that can be backlit was genius. Oof and bringing back “The needs of the many bugs outweigh the needs of the few bugs. Or the one bug.” just hurts. Poor Bug. My heart. This is probably the line that sticks with me to this day and I do think about sometimes.

Ok it’s now 2am and I still have 2 more parts.

I sorta love that Joey didn’t have the time to change into his blacks so he’s still in the Starship Ranger suit while playing the Bug puppet. “Save the Overqueen. I love her.” Awww. “Roach, I’m gonna get the job done if it’s the second last thing I do.” Love it. That Kick It Up A Notch Reprise though. Brian, you should play villains more often. Also remember all of us being like “LUPIN CAN SING?!?!?!??!!” “Lucky for me, God is dead. When you see him in hell, tell him Junior sent you.” Deadgod I love that line. This whole deadgod thing was just leading up to that amazing line. Oh no Bugette! Bug saying “maestro” oh my god. “DFSDSJFDSJKFDS... I’m dead.” I forgot that part! Oh my god the way Brian flicks the glasses back down on his face. Ok so I saw Lauren wiggle her way behind the mucus sac, but I didn’t see Nick come onstage. I rewinded, and I guess the zoom in shots on Brian and Joey were timed so we can’t see Nick join Lauren to be the first larva to come out. Oh well. And I love the crowd cheering as Junior dies. “And bingo was his name-o” That callback though. I forgot that the Overqueen eats Bugette’s body while crying. “Or Bugette! Oh...” Also god Roach is adorable.

Last part. 2:21am. Here we go. Krayonder got his blood sucked out by giant mosquitos and was cut up by a giant scorpion, but all he needs is a bandage around his head. Awwww the soft “I Wanna Be” playing the background as Bug begs the team to accept his bug form. Bug being so mad “It’s that bastard Pincer isn’t it?” and then being so happy that Joey does the little nose scrunch thing. So cute. JOEY’S FACE WHEN DENISE KISSES THE BUG PUPPET. Cannot believe I forgot that until 2 seconds before it happened too. “I now pronounce you man vs. machine. Fight!” WOAH. Why in the WORLD did “eep op ork ahah” come back to me. I was able to say it WITH Joey. That was straight from the DEPTHS of my teenage brain oh my god. I forgot about that oh my GOD. THAT’S INSANE. I FORGOT SO MUCH STUFF BUT I REMEMBERED HOW TO SAY “I LOVE YOU” IN BUG.

And the Beauty reprise.

God I love this musical. It’s still my fave StarKid show I think. And I’m horrified to see that it has only 500K views for the last part, so only 500K people have watched it all the way through after 10 years. That’s disgraceful. It’s amazing. Watch Starship.

It is 2:32am. I started at 8:50pm. Got sidetracked when I had to rewatch the Beauty part of Act 2 again to make sure I got my notes back in the post. Took a few bathroom breaks. But this is mostly because I paused every like 10 seconds to make a comment, so it took 5 and a half hours to watch a 3 hour musical. This why I take forever to watch things while liveblogging. I take too long to writing notes.

I’ll probably just post this in the morning. Gotta proofread for mistakes before posting.

Ok it’s the next afternoon. This post is literally 5,000+ words and takes 20 minutes to read according to a online word counter. I’m sorry to whoever read this entire thing. Your reward is the pictures of the Starship plushies I crocheted when I was 15 and 16.

(Ignore the bad lighting and my horribly chipped paint. That’s the only picture I have of the Bugette one since I gave it to Lauren Lopez a day later. I started making another for myself shortly after but never finished. Maybe I should finally finish the second one... hmm...)

#hope rewatches starkid #guys i'm not kidding it's 5000+ words i wrote a lot i commented on basically every single second of this 3 hour musical

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365days365movies · 3 years

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April 2, 2021: The General (1926)

From one legendary early filmmaker onto another!

Joseph Frank Keaton was born in Piqua, Kansas, on October 4, 1895. His parents were vaudeville performers, which might be sounding familiar to you, based on Chaplin’s life history. But Keaton’s childhood was VERY different, I promise. When he was an infant, he fell down the stairs in front of a family friend, and stood up afterwards, seemingly fine. The actor said, “He’s a regular buster!” And the name stuck, as did Buster’s tendency to shake off what could be massive injury. And that proved useful, as he would soon lose the tip of his finger, hit his own eye with a rock, and was also SUCKED OUT OF A WINDOW BY A TORNADO AND DROPPED TWO CITY BLOCKS AWAY. FUCKING SERIOUSLY. And according to some accounts, al of that happened in the same fucking day. Allegedly, because that shit would be CRAZY if true.

Regardless, he was brought on to work with his parents on stage when he was three, and they became “The Three Keatons”. During the act, Buster would be thrown against the scenery, into the orchestra pit, or into the audience itself! He earned to take trick falls quickly, and was billed as “the little boy who can’t be damaged”. And kid was INDESTRUCTIBLE. Sure, he never got hurt because of surprisingly well-thought out stage trickery, but he also was VERY good at landing on his feet, describing himself once as “landing like a cat” on regular occasions. But eventually, the law banned child performers in vaudeville, putting an end to the act.

But that wouldn’t stop Buster Keaton, NO SIR. It did stop his father, though, who eventually succumbed to alcoholism and wrecked the family business. But Buster and his mother left for New York City, and Buster moved on to his lifelong passion: acting. While acting on stage, Keaton met a young man named Roscoe “Fatty” Arbuckle, who would become one of the most prominent early film stars. But then, World War I happened, and Buster served in France, where he would become permanently deaf in one ear.

When he came back, he was a writer for Arbuckle’s films before breaking out on his own projects, being able to write, direct, and act in his own films. In the process, he developed his unique style of acting and filmmaking, which was extremely visual and full of slapstick. In acting, he became famous for his emotionless stony face, known as the “deadpan”. He also ALWAYS did his own stunts, which sometimes resulted in some major consequences.

Yeah. YEAH. Dude did a stunt that caused him to BREAK HIS NECK, and he DID NOT REALIZE THIS for YEARS AFTER THE INCIDENT! This man is the GREATEST BADASS THAT FILM HAS EVER KNOWN. That was on Sherlock, Jr. in 1924, and by this point, Keaton was a millionaire, and one of the biggest names in Hollywood, alongside Charlie Chaplin, of course. He was married to actress Natalie Talmadge (who was the SAME AGE as him, go figure), and they had three children together by 1924. And their marriage...also began to suffer. Just like Chaplin, except that Keaton wasn’t abusive to Natalie or the kids, thankfully. It was her spending habits, and the two of them growing apart.

And then, in 1925, inspired by history like Chaplin was with The Gold Rush, Keaton was inspired by a true story from the Civil War, known as the Great Locomotive Chase. See, Buster LOVED trains, and with the money and resources at his disposal, he had the ability to make his magnum opus, his favorite film, and one of the most expensive films ever made. Working with Chaplin’s United Artists, he made today’s film of focus: The General. And, uh...this would have mixed results, I’ll just say that much for now.

I’ll tell you what happens to Buster after this in the review, but for now, let’s jump into the movie! It’s a short one, but that’s OK! SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Recap

Y’know, I considered saving this one for Historical July or War November, but I think it’s better here for a few reasons. Plus, I’d rather those films not be comedic, if I can help it. Anyway: Marietta, Georgia, 1861!

The Western & Atlantic Railroad train known as The General is bring driven by its chief engineer Johnnie Gray (Buster Keaton). As a title screen tells us, Johnny loves two things: the majestic The General, and his equally majestic fiancée, Annabelle Lee (Marion Mack). Living in the decadent pre-Civil War South, the two are happy with each other, although Johnnie is somewhat awkward in his way. He provides Annabelle with a photo of him and The General.

Just then, though, Annabelle’s brother (Frank Barnes) comes in and tells her and their father (Charles Smith) that Fort Sumter’s been fired on. UH OH. It’s war. As Annabelle’s brother immediately goes to enlist alongside many other men, Johnnie follows suit. However, when he gets to the enlisting station, he’s refused the opportunity, as he will be needed to act as a railroad engineer. Which, to be fair, does make sense. Railroad engineers would be vital for the effort. However, they never tell him why he isn’t fit for the job, so he just goes back and tries to enlist under a false name. They catch him, though, and he’s again refused. Dejected, he goes back to the train.

However, as he leaves, Annabelle’s father and brother see him in line, and try to get him in to join them. He shakes his head, but instead of assuming that he’s been rejected, they assume that he’s too cowardly to join. They relay this message to Annabelle, who goes to him directly He tells him the truth, that he’s been rejected, but she IMMEDIATELY assumes he’s lying, and tells him not to speak to her again unless he’s in uniform. Dammit, Annabelle! And poor Johnnie doesn’t even know how important he is! Geez, guys, get your shit together.

A year passes, and the war continues in earnest. We go to a Union camp, where Captain Anderson (Glen Cavender) plots with General Thatcher (Jim Farley) to ambush a train and steal it, in an effort to debilitate the train and the South’s efforts as a whole. Meanwhile, Annabelle’s father is wounded, causing her to go and see him. This requires a trip on The General, and a brief and awkward reunion with Johnnie.

However, we now have a much bigger problem than lost love. Because the train is stopped for Johnnie and the passengers to get some food at a nearby stop. And this is when Captain Anderson takes the opportunity to steal The General right from under Johnnie’s nose. And Annabelle, who catches them in the act, is kidnapped in order to hide their scheme.

The men take off with The General and Annabelle, and now BOTH of Johnnie’s loves are taken away from him. He chases after the train, first running, then using a handcar, and THEN taking a man’s penny-farthing bicycle. By the way, fun fact about me: it is my life’s goal to be able to afford a penny-farthing bicycle and ride it around town while wearing a top hat and coat, like it’s completely fucking normal. I need this - I FUCKING NEED THIS, UNDERSTAND???

He rides that penny-farthing to another stop, where he encounters Confederate soldiers, who he tries to recruit to aid him in retrieving his train. However, he accidentally leaves them all behind, using a small engine, Texas to chase after his train and the robbers. Johnnie’s soon leading them in a hot pursuit, also managing to procure a cannon on the way.

However, the robbers have taken notice now, and the Captain is under the mistaken impression that the Texas carries reinforcements. Instead, they keep going. Meanwhile, Johnnie’s hooked the cannon up to the back of the Texas, and is trying (and failing) to fire it at the robbers. Instead, he accidentally unhooks it as it’s about to fire, and it’s aimed at the Texas instead. To avoid the shot, Johnnie...Johnnie does THIS.

...Damn, Buster Keaton, that’s awesome. That’s him doing this, FOR REAL, in this film. Holy shit. Tom Cruise, eat your heart out. Anyway, the cannon misses the Texas, but ends up firing pretty close to The General, spooking the men onboard. To stave him off, they first detach their last car, which falls off the tracks when Johnnie’s looking away, confusing him greatly. Then, they through railroad ties on the tracks, which Johnnie has to clear by getting off the train, riding it’s grill (again), and removing by hand! God, I love this dude.

The Union soldiers divert the tracks, driving Johnnie into a dead end, but he manages to reverse the Texas and switch back onto the right track. Meanwhile, the Union men are building fires in The General’s train cars, and leaving those cars on covered bridges in order to burn them down. They do this on one, and the Texas follows, driving into it, and pushing it OUT of the bridge. And goddamn, this movie is cool as shit.

As Johnnie deals with this latest situation, the train drives through Chattanooga, where the Confederate Army is in full retreat, chased away by the Union. And it’s at this point that I should point something out: I really, really should be rooting aginst Johnnie here, for obvious reasons. But, the movie is putting him in position as the protagonist, and it works, because I do like this guy, even if he’s inevitably on the wrong side of history.

It’s also at this point where Johnnie COMPLETELY loses any advantage, as the men on The General have now realized that he’s the only one on the train, and start fighting back, throwing things at him and the Texas from above. Now in danger, Johnnie takes off and runs into the forest, where he hides. This, mind you, is also as Annabelle is watching from The General.

That night, he happens upon a house in enemy territory, and goes there to hide. As he does, however, a group of officers come in, and discuss their plans to ambush the Confederate soldiers, and to secure one of their bridges for their own trains. Johnnie, all the while, is hidden under a table.

Annabelle is brought in, and the men decide to hold her for now, until the deed is done and they can make other plans. However, Johnnie also hears this, and waits until the officers clear out of the house, leaving him, Annabelle, and a couple of guards. Johnnie, being a badass, knocks out the guards, put on one of their uniforms, and rescues Annabelle. The pair of them escape back into the forest, as a thunderstorm rages. They also encounter a bear in the woods, because that’s basically par for the course with these movies, it would seem.

So is a beartrap, which Annabelle briefly gets caught in (yikes), until she’s freed by Johnnie...who also gets caught in it right afterwards. Nice. With all this trouble in the dark, the two decide to hunker down in the woods. Annabelle thanks Johnnie for coming after her, even in the country of their enemy. And they reconcile as they sleep for the night. Thatnext morning, Johnnie gets his bearings, and sees The General at an encampment down below. Wearing a Union uniform, he devises a plan to get to the train, and warn the South of the Union’s plan.

He convinces Annabelle to hide in a burlap sac, which he carries with him into the encampment. Dude’s a strong guy for being as scrawny as he appears to be. He carries her over his shoulder to the train, then puts her on one of the cabins. The makes his way to the front, and surprises the few men there, pushing them off of it, and stealing back The General! Badass!!!

He gets Annabelle out of the bag and the two attempt to outrun the Union together. They block the way with telephone poles, then grab some wood from recently constructed fences in order to fuel the engine (with some humorous difficulty). The Union catches up quickly, however, and the two are forced to flee again. They dump barrels and other items on board the train onto the tracks, then attempt to replenish the water reserves for the steam locomotive (again with some humorous difficulty) before moving on.

But precious little seems to impede the train’s pursuers. Meanwhile, Annabelle makes herself busy by sweeping the train? Oh ho ho, silly women, with their cleaning and uselessness in vital combat situations! Tee hee hee, why isn’t she pregnant in the kitchen right now? Silly baby receptacles, I mean, women!

OK, that mildly chauvinistic moment aside, the two continue speeding ahead, but then, at a moment when Johnnie gets off the train for manipulate the tracks, Annabelle winds up on The General by herself!. She reverses the train at almost EXACTLY the wrong moment, nearly causing an accident, but Johnnie’s trick with the track works, diverting the Union trains to another unfinished track. And the two gain a wider lead once again. And then...we reach the Rock River Bridge.

This is where the Union troops are meant to be meeting the trains for supplies, and a vital part of the Union’s plans in the area. Turning the tables on the Union, Johnnie sets a massive fire on the bridge, but gets trapped behind it, and is forced to jump into the river as The General moves off of it. However, he gets back up just in time, and they head out to the southern territories.

As they do, Johnnie changes uniform to a Confederate Grey, so as not to get shot at once they arrive. He warns the Confederate troops or the coming Northern invasion, and they quickly mobilize. He and Annabelle figuratively and literally dress down the commanding officer (nice), and they head out to engage the Northern Invaders! I’m sure it’ll go well for everybody involved. It’s also here that Annabelle reunites with her father, alive and healing. Johnnie, meanwhile, tries to go and help the army face the North.

Speaking of the Union, they’re STILL trying to repair the train track that Johnnie messed up. They finally succeed, and head off to the Rock River Bridge, with the Texas ahead of them. The other troops meet with them after all, and the commander insists that the bridge is in tact enough to cross the bridge. And that leads to...the most expensive scene ever shot, at least at the time.

That’s real. Are you listening to me, THAT IS 100% FUCKING REAL! BUSTER KEATON COLLAPSED A BRIDGE WITH A TRAIN ON IT FOR THIS MOVIE!!! That shit? That’s some next level shit. The Union forces, now basically fucked, try to ford the river, only for the Confederate forces to fend them off, with Johnnie’s help. The Captain, hidden on the bank, starts to pick off soldiers that Johnny’s talking to, only for Johnnie to accidentally kill him with a sword, which flies through the air to get him. Which, yeah, is funny in a macabre way. He also accidentally takes out a dam, flooding the river and fishing the Union soldiers out, forcing them into retreat! Their other supply train is disabled, and the South has won this battle! I mean, booo, but I’m happy for Johnnie, at least.

Hailed as a hero with the rest, they all return to the town, where Johnnie reunites with The General in peace. However, he’s nearly done for, as one of the soldiers, an officer that he knocked out a WHILE ago, has actually been on the train the entire time, and has only now regained consciousness. Johnnie takes him prisoner, and the general in charge of this unit is so impressed by his actions that he brings Johnnie into the army, and promotes him to lieutenant, giving him the Union officer’s sword in the process! Good for you, Johnnie! Proud of you, bud.

Now officially enlisted at last, he and Annabelle happily reunite in love, and makeout right next to The General. And then, Johnnie marches off to war for an army on the losing side of history that’s defending slavery, and in all likelihood dies in the deadliest war in American history. Probably. The movie actually ends on the kiss, but it’s the Civil War, we all know what the fuck went down.

And that’s The General! Wow. I get why Keaton was so excited about this movie; it’s a massive accomplishment in film history, and engaging and entertaining movie, and a cinematic masterpiece...that was directly responsible for eventually ending Keaton’s career.

...See you in the Review! I’ll explain the last part, I promise.

#the general #the general 1926 #clyde bruckman #buster keaton #marion mack #glen cavender #jim farley #comedy april #user365 #365 movie challenge #365 movies 365 days #365 Days 365 Movies #365 movies a year #365days365movies

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strawberry-metal · 4 years

Text

First unmasking post, from an rp with @kazekothestrange not the whole rp, just from a drama filled portion of it. Not posting the whole rp because its way too long lol. Happens not too long after the flesh bud is pulled out of Kakyoin, Avdol left for the Kujo library so he wasn’t present when all this went down.

Shanna and Jotaro have been friends for about three months now and have dealt with about three stand user attempts on their lives (not counting Kakyoin), and not yet knowing why. They’ve both saved eachother’s lives at this point. Shanna didn’t understand why Jotaro wouldn’t leave his jail cell, and he refused to come out even when she begged him to, yet when she wasn’t there, he left for Kazeko, Avdol, and Joseph. Not knowing what went down, she can’t help but feel angry and proceeds to take it out on everyone around her. The punk felt like she finally found someone who cared about her, and understood her. But she feels like the delinquent may be toying around with her feelings now.

Jealously...is an ugly emotion.

Contains Rose and Shanna when their relationship was destroyed due to fighting for years over who would get to be the next head of their family. Also contains small references to how Shanna was the year prior to meeting Jotaro.

--------------------------------------------------------

Rose: *wetting a washrag in the kitchen, she plans to clean up the blood from Kakyoin's wound due to the flesh bud removal. She'll leave the rest to Holly* ...I can feel you glaring at me you know.

Shanna: I'm not glaring. This is just my face.

Rose: I don't recall your eyebrows always being so furrowed. In fact, you've been like this all day. Is it because of Kakyoin-san? Do you still not trust him, even after what we just learned?

Shanna: *she exhales* That's not it, just forget about it. ...He just had something pulled from his brain. You think hes going to be ok? What about any possible brain damage?

Rose: Well, I'm no nurse but...well, you know how Star Platinum works better than me, so you should already know the answer, yes? *wringing out the rag, she passes by her sister to head back to the room the others are in*

Shanna: ....Tch! If I really did I wouldn't be asking, asshole... *she follows after her sister*

Kakyoin: *sighing, he lowers his head into his hands, fingers tangling in his bloody hair* I'm so ashamed... how could I have let this happen to me?

Joseph: It's fine, son. *he reaches over and pats the redhead's back* You couldn't have known what was going to happen.

Kazeko: *she reenters the room with Holly, carrying the tea* We're back. *she smiles gently, setting the tray down*

Rose: *she comes in around the same time* We are too. Though Shanna didn't actually do anything.

Shanna: You're annoying. If you have something to say, say it.

Holly: Ah... girls, let's not fight, alright? We're all a little worked up after what just happened.

Shanna: ....*she sighs, not wanting to make herself look bad in front of Holly* Yeah... sorry.

Holly: *she closes her eyes in a smile, showing her appreciation*

Rose: *she kneels down in front of the redhead, tapping his shoulder* Lift your head up. You're going to get blood everywhere.

Shanna: /Dammit Rose, at least ask if hes ok first!/

Kakyoin: Ah- ... *he raises his head, his hands bloodied* R-right... I'm sorry.

Joseph: Kaz, when she's done-

Kazeko: Y-Yes, of course. *but for now, she distances herself, letting the younger brunette work*

Jotaro: ... *he quietly watches all this from the side, looking over to Shanna after a moment and holding out his hand*

Rose: Now look, you got your hands messy now too. *she cleans up his hands first before moving to his forehead, gently cleaning the wound with practiced motions* Let's take care of this quickly. It'd be a shame to keep such a face so bloody.

Holly: Oh my! Are you flirting already Rose?

Rose: *her eyebrow twitches as if in annoyance and she closes her eyes* I am not. I am merely stating facts.

Shanna: *she definitely notices his offer, but she refuses him and instead leans her back against the lining of the screen door, folding her arms across her chest and watching the others*

Kakyoin: *his heart does a tiny flutter, which he does his best to dismiss as his cheeks flush a pale red* Th... thank you.

Joseph: *he can't help but snicker a little at this. cute.*

Jotaro: *the delinquent keeps his eye on her for a minute, then slowly lowers his hand. any other time, he'd just go over to her, but she doesn't look in any mood for that*

Kazeko: *she can definitely feel the tension in the room generated by the two sisters, and subtly gravitates towards her old friend*

Shanna: *her gaze falls on the shorter woman when she starts moving to Joseph, and her eyes sharpen, as if shes angry at her for something. But what???*

Kazeko: *her eyes widen, eyebrows upturning as she shrinks back further in silence, averting her eyes. but maybe that's what made her glare in the first place...? so she tentatively steps forward again, rooted in place*

Joseph: *he raises an eyebrow, and gives the young punk a sharp look of his own* Something wrong?

Jotaro: Oi, JiJi-

Kakyoin: ... *he lowers his head a bit again. he can't help but feel like this was his fault*

Shanna: Don't act all tough old man, I've won street fights against guys your size. *she huffs at her bangs* Besides, I wasn't even doing anything. /But damn do you and this chick piss me off. Jotaro didn't leave the jail for me. He left for you, her, and that other guy. What the fuck do YOU guys have that I don't!? Why did he choose YOU old fucks!?/

Holly: *shes sensing the tension returning* U-Um, Rose-chan! Are you about done?

Rose: Yes, if he'll quit moving.

Kakyoin: Gomen nasai... *he murmurs softly, trying not to even be heard*

Joseph: Then why are you glaring at us? ... you wouldn't be thinking 'you piss me off', would you?

Jotaro: *his eyes move back and forth between his grandfather and his best friend... why is she so angry?*

Shanna: *she moves from her position, placing a hand on her hip and raising her head up, a shadow casting over her eyes* And so what if I am? You want to fight? I'll take you both on!

Holly: A-Ahh, papa, Shanna-chan, please let's-

Joseph: You think I can't hold my own-!!

Rose: STOP FIGHTING!!!

Shanna: -!! *shes snapped out of it as soon as Joseph is, Rose hardly ever, if almost never, yells like this*

Kazeko: *she folds her hands and looks over at Rose, shocked. She's been so quiet and composed the whole time they've been here, until now*

Jotaro: ... /Shit.../

Rose: *she stands up, casting a glare at Joseph to drop it, then turning to face her sister* Would you just stop it already!? You've been picking a fight with everyone today! You want to be treated like an adult? Then stop acting so immature! You're acting just like you did when Le-

Shanna: DON'T FUCKING SAY HIS NAME!!

Rose: *she freezes up, she was pissed, yes, but she shouldn't of even brought HIM up in the first place* I...I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't of referenced him...but my point still stands. You've been doing nothing but show everyone attitude! You're picking a fight with his grandfather for crying out loud!

Shanna: *Her pupils dilate and she raises her hand up, bringing it down, intending to slap her sister as hard as she can, but she stops herself at the last second*

Rose: *she flinches, even covering her face in defense*

Shanna: ....I hate you so damn much. *she lowers her hand* You're always like this. You never talk to me. You never try to understand what's wrong. All you ever do is scold me but let everyone else off. You always have to make yourself look so damn good for everyone, yeah? You want that position in the family so bad??

Rose: Sha-

Shanna: You always were everyone's little princess. *she scoffs and with that, she leaves the room, leaving her sister standing there in silence*

Kazeko: *as soon as Shanna leaves the room, she releases her held breath and immediately starts hyperventilating, pressing her hand to her chest in an effort to calm herself down*

Joseph: H-Hey, hey hey! Shhhh, breathe!

Kakyoin: ... *once more he lowers his head. maybe it would have been better if he'd been... no, he shouldn't think like that-*

Jotaro: *without another word, he leaves the room too. he can't leave her like that*

Holly: *she glances between her father and Kazeko, and her son and Shanna. Honestly, she's torn on who she should be helping right now. Mentally apologizing to the other group, she hurries over to the short brunette to help her calm down from her panic attack*

Rose: ...*closing her eyes, she lets out a slow exhale. Just when she thought they were finally....finally getting along again...*

Joseph: *he smiles slightly at Holly* Thank you pumpkin.

Holly: Papa...I'm sorry, I don't know what got into her, she's normally such a sweet girl... *she gently rubs the short woman's back, moving strands of hair out of her face* H-Hey. I know that was scary...breath slowly ok? In...out....in...out...

Joseph: I trust you... so don't apologize for her, Holly. She can do it herself when she comes back. *he pulls his friend into a tight side hug* It's ok. Just focus on us, alright?

Kazeko: *between gasps, she nods* Thank- you- I'm- sorry- *gasp* *shaking her head, she does her best to ground herself*

Holly: It's ok, it's ok...do you want me to get you some water or anything?

Kazeko: *she nods her head, her breathing starting to slow down a little* Thank you- It's- ok- ... haa- I'll be- alright... *her eyebrows furrow and turn upward. again, she made the people she cares about worry about her*

Joseph: *he smiles a bit, rubbing her arm. good, she's calming down*

Holly: *she gives her a small side hug before leaving to fetch some water for her anyway*

Joseph: ... *after a couple more moments, he gives her another squeeze* Are you gonna be alright? Do you need anything?

Kazeko: *breathing raggedly now, but slowly, she lifts her head to reply* No... it happens... I don't need it right now...

Kakyoin: ... Gomen... gomen... *he murmurs to Rose, pulling his knees to his chest and burying his face*

Rose: ....*she turns around, and kneels down next to Kakyoin* ....Are you blaming yourself? Don't. It can't be helped. Shes held contempt for me for so many years now, I should of expected she'd explode sooner or later...

Kakyoin: Of course I am... it's... I'm the one who attacked...

Rose: ...You know, you say that but, she didn't blame you. When we, or more like I, was getting that washrag, she was concerned about you. She worried if you were going to be ok, since that...thing was literally pulled out of your brain.

Kakyoin: ... she did...? *he lifts his head ever so slightly, his hair splayed messily across his knee*

Rose: She was also worried about the possibility of you getting brain damage from that extraction. When I didn't really answer her, she got mad. *she looks amused for a moment* That fight that happened is...between her and I. It had nothing to do with you. She doesn't hate you, quite the opposite.

Kakyoin: *his expression lightens, then falls again* ... even so... I... I'm sorry... if things are rough between the two of you...

Rose: *she shakes her head* It's been this way for years, it can't be helped. I thought we were finally getting along again, but...

----------------------------------------------------

Who is this him that Rose mentioned, that caused a bad trigger in Shanna? You’ll find out in future unmasking posts.

Shanna and Jotaro had a bad argument with eachother after this, and shortly after, I want to reassure you guys that Shanna does return and apologize to everyone because hey, she realized she was kind of being a bitch. Knowing Jotaro is probably sulking in his own way after such a bad argument with eachother, she looks for him in the Kujo estate and properly apologizes to him too, and they both have an actual talk this time to clear up the horrible misunderstandings that were going on. Shanna later also apologizes to Rose for saying such a horrible thing to her. Their relationship is still rocky when the Stardust Crusader journey happens, they never get back to getting along after years of fighting eachother until post SDC I’m afraid.

To hopefully clear anything up, this is the only horrible fight the Metal Queen, as I noticed you guys like to call her, has with the SDC. She gets along with them all fine throughout the journey, and post SDC, she even starts calling Joseph ‘Jiji’, like Jotaro does!

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midnightcalibration · 4 years

Text

Merry Bobunk Christmas!

What: Short Fanfiction

Fandom: Avengers

Characters: Read the tags for the list.

Why: ‘Cos me and a friend of mine came up with the idea of giving a Christmas role to each avenger, and I decided to write this.

Words: Almost 1800 according to my text editor.

Quality: Probably with a lot of typos and awful grammar.

Stupidity level: High (I hope).

---------------------------------------

Tony is coming back to his workshop to continue one of his most important projects of the year. He hadn't slept since whenever the last time was, but who needs sleep when you've got coffee? He pities those who can't drink the miraculous brew.

As he enters the room the first thing he notices is DUM-E fighting against the cables of some Christmas lights. The lights are winning... Oh! Now U is trying to help his brother, that's nice. Aaaand now he's stuck too. Tony can't believe he won a prize for one of those things.

"Dum-E, U, stop destroying my delicate work, if you please."

Sparks jump out of the lights.

"You know those lights are supposed to last, not turn into fireworks. Sto- Ah- great! The workshop is on fire. Congratulations! Now it would be a good time to use your skills with the fire extinguisher, Dum-E," Tony says as he grabs said object himself, "Though I'm not sure you would still point it at me, instead of the fire..."

After putting the fire out and helping his not so intelligent bots, he gets back to work. He is just a little bit tired, but he has to finish it in time.

Last years had been chaotic. He never had time to properly put on a good Christmas decoration show for everybody. It's not like he is a traditionalist, or even believes in Christmas. For him, it is a time where people start to compete to see who has the best circus in town. And he, as the Stark he is, cannot just let it pass. He is the greatest showman there is. Sorry, Hugh Jackman, not sorry.

Has he hears the "bing" of the elevator sound he looks in its direction and sees the best two presents he is lucky to have in his life. Pepper is holding Morgan's hand while the little pea giggles as she skips and pulls her mother with her. Only when they got closer he notices something is odd. They are wearing costumes.

"What do we have here?" Tony asks. "An elf munchkin coming straight from Santa's workshop? And she's bringing with her a..." what is Pep supposed to be? "Gingerbread woman? Seriously?" He snorts. "Is it because of your hair?"

"Well, this Santa's little helper here thought you might need a sweet cookie to help you work," Pepper replies.

"Ok," he snorts again, "that sounds like something you would never say."

"Well, I didn't say it, Miss M. did."

Another "bing" echoes in the air and Peter comes out rushing and talking non-stop, "Oh, So sorry I am late Mr. Stark, I had to help like half of the people I saw when coming here as well as save like seven cats from trees and woah I even found a goat on one, Did you know goats climb trees? It's amazing, I mean I knew that already but I never thought I would see one in New York, And-"

"Calm down, Speedy Gonzalez! Have you ever heard about punctuation? And, I don't know, breathing?" Tony sasses before noticing Peter is also wearing an elf costume. "Did you go around saving old ladies from crosswalks in that?"

"Oh this?" Peter looks at himself, "I wasn't sure what to dress as but then Morgan told me she needed an elf brother and I was happy to be hers!"

Okay. That makes sense, Tony guesses.

"Has the party already started?"

Tony jerks his head and sees Rhodey, in a ridiculous candy cane suit. Like, seriously, what is going on? Why is platypus wearing that colorful, er-, thing, where only his face is visible?

"What's up, honey bear? Did you get abducted by aliens, where they did all these terrible things to you, and now you have a nineteen year old college student clown soul trapped in your body? Come on, Rho-rho, you can do it! You can win the fight for the right of control. Now really, what party?"

"Ha-ha. Very funny, Tones," Rhodey says with a fake laugh. "I hope you haven't forgot that today is Bobunk day."

The fu-?

"Bobunk is my favorite!" Morgan almost squeals. "It's what makes Christmas magical."

"It sure is, honey," Pepper agrees and Peter nods. OK, maybe he drank too much coffee. Or not enough!

He turns to his desk to get his mug so he can wash down the brown liquid. It is then he notices two big present boxes near the wall, that were not there before.

"Who the hell put that there?"

"Boss, you should mind your language! Morgan has ears." FRIDAY spoke.

"Sorry honey bee," Tony says trying to ignore that the sentence "has ears" was a bit odd, in the context. Like, it is true, but perhaps not the best way to put it. Maybe he needs to check FRIDAYS NL program, and see if she's not trying to learn her vocabulary from websites where people forget the difference between "they're", "their" and "there". Anyway, the presents! What are they doing there?

As he approaches the packages, they "explode" with a loud pop revealing Nat and Clint smiling from ear to ear, with present bows in their heads, dressed in wrapping paper, and shouting "SURPRISE! MERRY BOBUNK CHRISTMAS!!!"

Okay, now he is sure they are trying to troll him. He gets it, he deserves it for all the times he did the same. It was never at this level of crazy, though. He would keep it to wit and sarcasm.

*knock, knock, knock*

The sound came from the balcony glass doors. It is dark outside and Tony can't see anyone. And who would enter through the balcony? Except for him, of course? He purposefully ignored it.

*KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK*

He looks again. Nothing. He resists the urge to ignore it again, but then whoever is outside is probably freezing. And they are just pranking him in a weird way, they don't deserve to turn into ice cubes, right?

When he opens the door, he sees a snowman. Dressed. As. Captain. America.

"Ahah, joke is on you! This is more of a jab to Capsicle, not me."

"What are you talking about, Tony?" The voice sounds so much like Steve's. Where the- "Holy shit!"

"Language!"

The effing snowman is speaking. IT. IS. SPEAKING! Like, it is not Rogers dressed as a snowman. It is a effing snowman, like a real one.

"How are you doing it?" Tony is still perplexed. And not even sure he can believe Olaf here actually had enough humor in him to be passing as a snowman.

"Doing what, Tony?" the freaking snowman actually frowned.

"Make it so realistic?"

"Tony, do you always need to be so rude?"

"Wha-" *CLASH*

Tony rushes inside to see what has been broken. He hopes it wasn't anything related with his Christmas project.

He stops. Thor is there, blinking. Not with his eyes, no. He is lighting on and off in several spots. You know.... like Christmas lights!!! And he is fighting is bots!

"I challengeth thee to fight me with honor, arms of metall. Thee shalt learn the warth of the mightie lightning!"

"Pepper! Pepper Ann!" Tony calls.

"What is it, Tony?"

"What is happening? Please tell me you are seeing how weird this is. I'm not going crazy, right? I don't do crazy."

"What are you talking about?" she smiles, "You are always crazy. Come! Let's see the nativity scene."

"We don't have a nativity scene, Pepsy Pep."

Pepper chuckles as she points to two new figures. Yep! He gives up. Yep, yep. For the good of his sanity, he's going to pretend everything is normal.

Wanda is dressed as Virgin Mary, and is hugging(?) Vision who seems to be wrapped in a big blanket, and very naked under it.

"Hey there, Mary, baby Jesus." Tony acknowledges. "Where is Joseph?"

Vision replied with baby cries. Totally normal.

"I'm a single mother."

"Oh yes, of course you are. Sorry for the assumption."

"I am Groot!"

"You're right, you a-" Did the tree just talked?

"Meow!" T'Challa says, his cat tail wagging as he "paws" at panicking Bucky and Scott, who are hanging from the tree - which has grown, just a note - like Christmas tree decorations. From above, Sam and Hope are laughing. They have wings so they can fly away from the sharp claws of the King of Wakanda.

Of course this is normal. He just probably traveled to an alternate universe. He just needs to know how to go back to his sane plane of reality.

The tree is gigantic, now. It's breaking the glass doors and cracking the walls. It is threatening to destroy the whole tower. This can't be. No matter how everyone is ignoring what is happening, this is dangerous and he can't let anyone get hurt. Specially Pepper and Morgan.

He makes a gesture to call his suit, and flies outside to assess the damage. Curiously enough, nothing seems to be in danger.

"Boss!"

"Yes FRIDAY?"

"We have an UFO incoming, and fast."

"Say what now?"

He looks and sees something is coming his way. His GUI zooms on the object.

"This is normal, this is normal, this is normal."

"SANTA SMAAAAAASH!" Green Hulk Santa yells, as he flies through Tony in a sled pushed by a black reindeer with a helmet that looked the exact same as Loki's.

They smash into the tower, because why wouldn't they, right? The 'K' of the STARK lettering of the tower falls.

Then he sees it! It all makes sense, now! This is Bobunk Christmas in its perfection! This is his destiny.

Letting himself accept the Christmas spirit burning inside him, he flies to the top of the tower, that now was more tree than anything else, opens his arms and legs and turns on the repulsors, casting a magnificent light, turning into a blinding shining star.

He feels magnificent!

Everyone on the street below start to cheer and applauding the exhibition. He did it! He got the best Christmas decoration of the world!

"Stark!" Everyone shouts.

"Stark!"

"Please! This is not about me," he says.

"STARK, WAKE UP!"

Tony jerks as he wakes up.

Fury is towering over him with a disapproving frown. Everything is back to normal, since it had all been a dream.

"Stark, why are you looking at me like that?" Fury asks, with actual confusion painted in his face.

"I makes total sense!"

"What does?"

"You!"

"Me?"

"You are my Bobunk Christmas Grinch!"

THE END!

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intheforest-hides-a-light · 5 years

Text

A New Family | Part 1

Synopsis: Rachel Jessop’s life changes forever the day she meets Joseph Seed, and the seven years that follow are not at all how she expected them to be.

((So tumblr removed all my text from this post when I went to add a hashtag so here I am pasting it back in again *cries* there’s probably errors now haha))

Rating: M

Genre: Angst, Drama, pre-canon

Characters: Faith Seed (Rachel Jessop), Tracey Lader, Joseph Seed + others

Warnings: abuse, drug use, thoughts of suicide, implied sex

Length of Part 1: 6.5k Total Length: TBD

Disclaimer: I don’t own FC5 or its characters, only thing that’s mine is my writing.

a/n: Basically my take on Faith’s story as seen from her eyes. Who she is, how she ended up with PEG and why she stayed. Wrote this waaayy before all the “Did Joseph exploited Faith” drama came about. I’ve always been intrigued by their relationship/power dynamic so this delves into that as the story progresses. Also gets into the role that the Faiths play and why Rachel is different. Enjoy!

-------

I count the bruises on my arms and legs as I cry alone in my bedroom. Three on the right leg, two on the left. Four on the right arm, five on the left. I haven’t looked at myself in the mirror today but I am sure that my left eye is completely black and blue. There are fingernail scratches along my collarbones. Are they from my dad or from my brother? I don’t remember. I don’t want to remember. I run my fingers through my hair. Masses of strands fall out in clumps. Is it from being dragged across the kitchen last night? Or is it from the incident in the girls’ locker room two days ago? I don’t remember. I don’t want to remember.

I turn my nightstand around, looking for a secret stash of weed I keep hidden in case of emergencies. I find the plastic bag, but it is practically empty. There have been a lot of emergencies in the last three weeks. My backpack is sitting by the door. I head over to it and search the inner secret pocket. Another ziplock bag, empty except for a white powdery residue. I go into the bathroom, open up the lower cabinet door, feel around the upper inside and pull out another bag hidden between the pipe and the wall. Syringes. Empty.

My phone chimes. It’s Tracey. I hesitate to pick up. Deep down all I want is to talk to someone. Tell someone that it happened again, that I am back at the beginning, that no matter how much courage I try to muster up I keep falling back to this same place, dirt low, forgotten. Beaten. The only way up is getting high. That’s the only escape I know.

Tracey doesn’t need drugs like I need drugs. Tracey doesn’t depend on a leafy plant, or a fine white powder or a needle to numb her pain. Tracey is much stronger than me.

I swallow hard and pick up my phone, “Hi, Tracey.”

“Hey girl, how you holding up?”

Just hearing her ask the question shatters me. I hold in my sob, but my voice comes out shaky and weak, “I’m...not...not great.”

“What’s going on?”

“It was bad yesterday. It was really bad.”

“Your dad? Your brother?”

My father is a pharmacist. Yet somehow, right after mom died, his years of education magically disappeared and he quit his job to start experimenting with homeopathic medicine. Since then things haven’t been so easy. He makes no money. We’re living in debt. He’s looking for a cure for my autistic brother. I try to tell him, because he won’t listen to his graduate degree, that it’s impossible, that David is going to stay that way forever and the only thing that is going to make it any easier on him is love and education. I tell him that and he beats me up. Whatever he cooks up in his lab only makes my brother angry, violent. I think it’s getting into my father’s head too. Sends him into these fits of rage. I go to bed hearing screaming matches between the two of them. I’m afraid that one morning I will wake up and--

I can’t think about it. I don’t want to think about it. I don’t have anymore weed. I can’t break down like this because I don’t have a way up.

“Both.”

“Those bitches from school?”

Don’t think about it, Rachel.

“Uh huh.”

“Oh gosh. I’m sorry girlfriend. Got that secret stash I gave you?” She’s referring to the pot. She doesn’t know about the other two vices.

“All out.”

I hear her sigh, “You know that’s for emergencies only, Rachel. Not for everyday use. You’re supposed to be getting off that stuff, you know? We’re trying to get you better.”

“I know,” I sniff, “I know Trace. Lately it’s been so hard. I just wish there was a way out. I know I’m failing. I know you probably think I’m a failure but I am trying, I’m really trying.”

She chuckles, but I can tell that it is loving, “Hey. I’m here for you. I’ll always be here for you. OK? I know it isn’t easy. You’re not failing as long as you keep trying. Speaking of which...I think I found a place for us.”

We’ve been planning on running away together, mainly for my sake but also for hers. I need to get away from my dad. And she, well, Tracey’s got it good, but she’s always seeking more from life.

“How far is it?” I inquire.

“Not as far as we hoped, Rach,” she sighs, “Hope County”.

“Well that’s about as local as it gets,” I say with dismay, “What is it?”

“They call themselves Eden’s Gate. The Project at Eden’s Gate.”

“What are they? What do they do?”

“Well they’ve got a sermon tonight at the Ranch in Holland Valley. I’ll drive. Wanna come and find out?”

“I don’t think my dad will let me.”

“Who said you need his permission? Come on Rachel. We’ve snuck out your bedroom window plenty of times. It’ll be just like the old days.”

I look at my window. Nailed shut with wooden planks. Tracey doesn’t know about my father’s latest attempt to keep me in. My door is always locked. My father keeps the key. I can only go out for meals. Meals that aren’t even worth eating. I eat a scoop of peas for dinner and drink a glass of milk for breakfast. I do have my own bathroom, and my own bedroom, but no connection to the outside world other than my cell phone. Which is why those secret stashes meant so much to me.

“Well...I really think I ought to ask first, just in case,” I look down at my bruised legs, “I can’t afford to get into any more trouble. What do they preach? Maybe I can convince my old man?”

There’s a pause on the other end, “Just tell him they’re Christians. We are going to church.”

“Okay,” I pick at my nails, “I think he’ll be fine with that.”

------

Two hours later, blessed with permission from my unpredictable father, I am trying to cover up my black eye in the mirror. I don’t have a lot of makeup. My mother practically forbade it and my father continued the tradition. The only thing I can wear is concealer when I have a breakout, as every teenager gets. Otherwise he’s scared that I’ll get pregnant. But little does he know, back when Mom was alive, Tracey and I used to waitress at the 8-bit Pizza Bar while we were supposed to be selling girl scout cookies (sixteen is a little old for that anyway, in my opinion). We’d pick up some good looking boys in there from time to time. It didn’t matter that I didn’t wear any makeup. Guess you could say I had that small town charm going for me. Or maybe it was the fact that I was an easy target. I didn’t have a backbone. I still don’t. The boys were genteel enough. Courteous. Charming. But the minute I got into one of their trucks their hands went straight for me. Not the steering wheel. My breasts. Not the stick shift. My thigh. As if they owned it. As if they won it over. As if it was theirs for the taking from the beginning.

I let them take it. I’ve forgotten how much I owe Tracey for all the morning after pills she brought me. Every night after it would happen, I’d throw rocks and her bedroom window. She’d come down to the front and let me in. We’d go to the backyard, sit in the rocking chairs. Tracey would roll two joints and always gave me the bigger one. She meant well by it, like how a grandmother always gives her grandkids the bigger half of a pastry, but for me it did more harm than good. I would take it anyway, inhaling long drags of the stuff and pretending the smoke held the power to disintegrate my memories, my pain. I’d tell Tracey what happened. Every time it was a variation of the same story, with the same ending. She’d listen to me until I was done, until I’d finished crying and letting it all out. Then we would go back inside. She would make chamomile tea and serve it with oatmeal raisin cookies. I always had at least three because of the weed. Then we’d sleep in her big bed upstairs. When I’d wake up I couldn’t even remember the man’s face.

She kept forgiving me over and over again. She tried to teach me how to stand up for myself. She still does. But she also introduced me to drugs. I smoked pot with her but I found my way into other things in the bad parts of town. Coke. Heroin. I do them when I can do them, which is not very often. I can’t afford it and I can’t get out of the house enough anymore. I don’t think Tracey ever thought I’d become dependent on drugs. I know she only wanted to help me escape. But for me, weed was a gateway drug. It opened up a forest of dangers. Once I started, I couldn’t stop. I don’t have the self control that she does. Now she’s trying to wean me off of it. But she’s trying to cut off one head of the hydra. I need to smite all three if I want to get over this.

I stare at myself in the mirror. My complexion, once ruddy and bright, is now sickly, with tired eyes, bruises and scars all over. All of this makes me look like a corpse next to the plump small-town beauties full of spirit and life. I am a ghost. I float through the hallways like a ghost. I haunt my bedroom like a ghost.

I wasn’t always a ghost. I used to take care of myself. I’d lost about fifteen pounds since my mother died. My dad’s cooking is shit. Even though weed makes me hungry I never feel the desire to eat anything because nothing tastes good. My brown-blond hair (God couldn’t make up his mind when he made me, you see, at least that is what my mother would to say) used to be shiny with a slight wave to it, now it’s matte, dull, falling out in clumps and frayed awfully at the ends. I want to die. I feel like if I am a ghost I might as well be dead. I think I started doing heavier drugs because of that. Because I want to die, but I am too much of a coward just to kill myself and get it over with. Part of me hopes against hope that by getting out of this house and hopefully out of this town that I will find some reason to live again. I don’t want to be a ghost. If I’m going to live the rest of my life as a ghost I want to make that life brief, tragic and wasteful, like the duration of a tea candle’s flame.

The black eye is still visible. I do not know how many times I’ve applied makeup to it. It’s still there, especially in brighter light. I pull out my tube of concealer and shakily squeeze more unto the back of my hand. The tube farts. It is empty. I begin to roll it like toothpaste, trying to urge the last drops out. A dismal portion exits the tube in another fart. I toss it in the trash and use what I have, religiously applying it to my bruised eye and giving a little to my unaffected eye, trying to make them match as much as possible. It doesn’t reduce the swelling or the pain, but it looks presentable enough. I wish I had some lipstick, anything to put some color in my face.

I am not sure what to wear for this evening. I do not know if this Eden’s Gate church is a “come as you are” sort of thing or if I should put on something a little more presentable than my oversized pajamas. I open my closet. . My father burned half my wardrobe when I missed my curfew by ten minutes one night. But he left the things that my mother passed down to me. Probably some of the few things left that still remind him of her. I find a light green dress she used to wear. Mamma was so pretty. I don’t think I’ll ever be as pretty as she. I put it on regardless. It zips easily, for its rather loose. Just six months ago it was too tight. I was afraid I’d break the zipper. Now there is no I fear of that at all. White lace adorns the sleeves and my cleavage. I debate pulling the neckline down or up.

It’s church, Rachel, I tell myself, Besides, no one will want to look at you anyway.

The last thought bites. It’s a personal truth. I look down and rediscover the scratches. I tug my dress at the back, raising the neckline.

Fortunately the doorbell rings just in time. I leave my bathroom and stop at the door to the hallway.

Once you’ve been in captivity, once you’ve been locked up alone with your thoughts for long enough, once you’ve accepted that you’re stuck, you don’t bother trying doorknobs anymore. You’re used to reaching that hard spot where it stops turning and opens nothing. It takes me a moment to touch the handle. I know it will feel cold. I know the distinct shape it has and how it will fit into the palm of my hand. What I do not know is whether or not it will open. It might reach that hard lock. I might’ve gone through all of this trouble and not be able to leave.

Knowing this, I twist, hoping for the best.

To my relief, it unlocks effortlessly and opens without so much as a creak. I head downstairs to greet my friend.

------

Sitting in the chapel in the ranch, I feel so nervous. My body shivers. My hands shake. My heart pounds. I do not know if it is withdrawal or what. But I am not completely at ease. The people here are disheveled. Messy. Somewhat gross. The kind of person I would become if I let my addiction keep its grip on me. They are the types that my father would advise me to steer away from, however in his current state he is more like them than he knows. I am more like them than he knows

A tall, fit man with a full, well groomed dark beard strides unto the stage in a flourish of applause. He completely contrasts the people sitting in the pews. He is nicely dressed, wearing a fitted blue silk shirt rolled up at the cuffs, black vest, and tight jeans. His belt buckle is exceptionally extravagant. A pendant of some sort hangs from his neck. The crowd cheers for him. He waves, flashing a million dollar smile and a glint in his bright blue eyes. He’s handsome.

I turn and whisper to Tracey, “If I knew that pastors could look as good as he does I would’ve come to church a long time ago.”

She smirks and holds back a giggle, “You’re terrible.”

“He’s hot,” I say, perhaps a bit too loudly.

“Shhhhhh!” She tries not to laugh, “Behave.”

“Who is he?” I ask as if I were inquiring about a handsome stranger across a bar, not a preacher at the front of a church.

“That’s John Seed,” she tells me, “He doesn’t give the sermon. He’s just the opening act.”

“There’s more of them? Tracey, you told me this was church, not that mythical place where all of the hot guys in Hope County disappeared to!”

“Rachel, shut up!” She giggles again, but then whispers to me, “Don’t get your hopes up. He’s as good as they get, well, looks wise.”

“Bummer. That means we’ll have to fight for him.”

“Rachel!”

Our laughter is camouflaged by the cheers and shouts from people in the pews, phrases like “Oh John!” and “We love you!” and “Praise our brother”. I observe the scene. Sometime during our banter two other people entered the stage. One, a very tall, burly, fearsome man with a long frizzy red beard and bloodshot beady eyes. He holds a large semi-automatic rifle close to his body, and scans the crowd meticulously for possible threats. Though he wears the uniform shirt of the U.S. army, his demeanor is not one of honor or pride, but of sickened, disillusioned duty. The other, a girl, with thick yellow curls and a bountiful bust contained inside a too-tight white dress. She has slanted, sultry green eyes. There is a whorelike, slutty quality about her despite her conservative dress. But she is undeniably beautiful. I self consciously remember looking at my own chest this morning. Scratches everywhere. Nothing to be proud of. I run my fingers through my mousy hair, wishing I’d washed it. The beautiful woman holds a bouquet of flowers, with several blossoms strewn throughout her golden locks. She smiles at John.

I roll my eyes out of jealousy and look at Tracey, motioning to the girl sitting on stage, “Don’t tell me it’s a wedding,”

She shakes her head, “Oh no, that’s his sister. Faith. I don’t quite know if marriage is a thing here or if they’re all about brotherly sisterly love or if it’s just one massive orgy. I have no idea.”

I laugh at her raunchy train of thought. This is the Tracey I love.

“And who is Mr. Scary over there?” I whisper, trying not to make it obvious who I am talking about.

“Oh, him?” She whispers back, “I don’t know...He wasn’t here last time. I don’t exactly know what the gun is for, either.”

“Maybe he’s exerting his second amendment right?” I tease with a horrible attempt at the stereotypical Hope County drawl.

She looks at me. It’s not funny. “Why do they even need guns?”

“Tracey. We live in Montana. Everyone’s got guns here.”

“I know… but something’s not right.”

I look around the room again, “Maybe his job is to stop desperate bitches like us from throwing ourselves at that hottie over there?”

She bursts out laughing.

Our conversation is interrupted by John’s voice, “Brothers and sisters, welcome!” he proclaims, arms outstretched.

Applause. Tracey and I join in. At the moment we are spectators, like flies on a wall carefully observing but not yet involved.

“I want to tell you,” he continues, “how wonderful it is to see all of these new faces in our home this evening.” His eyes find mine momentarily. I’m intimidated by his strong presence yet also trying my hardest not to swoon. “We hope that this is just the beginning of your march with us.

“I want you to think of the life you’ve led before now. Of all the pain, of all the hardship, of every road you’ve turned down that felt like a dead end. I want to assure you, brothers and sisters, that the ship you’ve sailed across a sea of hardship is about to dock. I give to you a new captain who will guide you to an island of paradise. My brother, your Father, Joseph Seed!”

The crowd stands, clapping and cheering, holding their hands up in praise. The church doors open, and the blazing golden sunset from the west illuminates the doorway, revealing the silhouette of a tall, broad shouldered man. The light comes through his yellow tinted glasses, creating two glowing dots on the ground in front of him.

He moves with a serenity. There is a comforting sense of peace, a radiance that surrounds him. His suit jacket fits him well. His long hair is tied in a small bun on the crown of his scalp. He carries a white book with the symbol of the Project etched in gold on the cover. A rosary is wrapped like a bracelet across his right wrist and palm.

I cannot yet see his face. I too am standing, on my toes, craning my neck around the people in front of me, squinting. Finally when he reaches the stage, he turns around, and the crowd goes silent. They return to their seats. I am the last to stay standing.

Our eyes lock like magnets. I do not need to hear his voice. He does not need to utter a single word. A look comes across his sullen, rugged face. He catches his breath. The room is completely silent. Time slows. My heartbeat pounds. He looks as though he has seen a ghost. I know I look like a ghost. Perhaps it is that I seem so weak and sickly that common sense says I should not be standing here, I should not be in this room. But I am. And I know, somehow, deep inside myself, that I am destined to be here. To meet him. His expression changes from one of shock to one of recognition, a longing for something far off in the distance which yet appears so near. A red string of fate ties the two of us together before either of us can object. But like some perfect private secret, I am afraid that anyone else caught on to it. As my awareness returns to the room, I sit. He swallows hard. I try to look away but I can’t. I’m already entranced.

He speaks right to me as he begins his sermon.

“It is fate that you have come here.”

His words are chilling. They pierce me.

Joseph continues, “It is God’s divine plan that you are here today. Whether you’ve devoted yourself to this project or if this is your first time with us, I tell you that you are here for a reason. This is no accident. This is no chance.”

His speech, though indirect and addressed to a crowd, feels so personal. It is as if despite all of the people in this room he is talking to me and me alone. I know that it is no accident, that it is no chance, that I am not confused. The connection I feel with him is mutual. In a sea of strangers I am seen. We see each other.

“Just as such,” he goes on, respectfully connecting with the others in the pews, “your existence, your very entrance into this world, your birth, your conception...all is for a reason.”

He cannot stand it long. Joseph looks directly at me again and reads my soul like an open book. “You who have felt lost, unwanted, undesired, and unnecessary to the world: have no fear. You have a purpose.” He assures me, “Your life is designed to have significance. Even when the road is foggy, when the path is untred and you know not which step to take, know that God has a destination for you. I have a destination for you.”

My eyes well with tears. For the first time since my mother died, I feel safe. Sheltered. Believed in.

His voice, like silk, his words, like music, envelope me. “When all doors have shut against you, when your friends and your families turn their backs on you, I will be standing here with open arms. I accept you, my children, just as you are. There is nothing you have to change. No one else you have to be. You are loved here, just as you are. And you have always been worthy of that love.”

I break.

When the people around me hear my sobs interrupt the silence of Joseph’s pause, they turn to me with a look of celebratory joy on their faces. A woman on my right with very few teeth and hair bordering on dreadlocks pulls me against her bosom and holds me. Two young men reach back from their seats in front of me and pat me on my shoulder. Now the entire church is watching me, overjoyed. Someone starts the applause.

I feel a new hand on my back from my left side. I turn, expecting it to be Tracey. But it’s not. It’s the woman in the white dress from onstage. The sister.

“Come with me,” she beckons.

I don’t know what this means. “Wh-why?”

I look at Tracey. For the first time she’s looking at me not as my best friend. She seems bitter, disgusted, as if I’m filth. Trash. Foolish. Petty. As if I had no soul.

Faith speaks softly to me, “The Father wants to meet you. Won’t you come up?”

I laugh through my tears, “I’m interrupting the service.”

“No no no,” she’s overbearingly gentle, “Please come up. Nothing would make us happier.”

“Go to the Father,” the woman holding me into her bosom says, lifting my torso towards Faith. I take the sister’s hand, and she walks me down the aisle towards The Father who awaits me by the altar.

When we reach it, Faith hands me over to him and returns to her seat.

His hands are smooth and cold. His eyes, up close, are a vortex behind his yellow glasses. Full of wisdom and peace, as if he had reached that Nirvana the Buddhists dream of. He’s good looking. Not in the way that John is good looking. John is the kind of untouchably handsome, out of everyone’s league yet inside every girl’s dreams. The Father is approachable yet with a true sense of authority, like all fathers should be.

“What is your name my child?”

Intoxicated by him, I forget it on the spot. “My name?”

“Your name.”

“Rachel,” I swallow, “Rachel Jessop.”

His lips turn up at the corners.

“Tell me, Rachel. What is making you cry?”

I search for the answer in his eyes and find it, “The feelings that your words are bringing me. Feelings of safety. Salvation.”

He holds my face in his hands, “Salvation from what, dear Rachel?”

Feeling all eyes on me, I choke up. “F-from my life. From my agony.”

He nods slowly, knowingly.

“And what gives you this pain?” He continues to hold my face so that I cannot look anywhere else except straight into his magnificent eyes. More tears come.

My next words are succinct, for I’m clinging to my composure. “My father and my brother beat me. I’m bullied endlessly by my peers. I don’t feel safe anywhere.”

He continues his knowing nod. “My brothers and I know intimately of your struggle. Don’t we?” He looks to John and Jacob.

I see John nod in my periphery, but Jacob makes no expression whatsoever.

Joseph’s left hand softens into a gentle caress, “What else, child?”

He pulls the words out of me, words I am sure I shouldn’t even say in front of so many people. “I abuse drugs for help,” the rest is a stream of consciousness through my tears, “I’m a rat. I rummage for anything I can get my hands on. I always thought I deserved this life… like I did something irredeemably wrong and my circumstances are a consequence. I take every blow and I let others take from me… but there is no hatred in my heart for anyone except for myself. I don’t blame them. I think it’s all my fault.”

He sighs, looking at me with pity and understanding, “What if I told you, Rachel, that none of it is your fault?”

This concept is foreign to me, “How?”

“The pain you suffer is not because of your own personal ills. If that we’re the case, why aren’t the money grubbers, the corrupt politicians and greedy business owners punished with the same abuses you experience?”

I look at him blankly, “I don’t know.”

“It’s society that is sick, Rachel. It’s the ills in society which are responsible for the pain and the suffering of the innocent. It’s not your fault. They don’t understand you, so they try to take you out.”

The clouds part in my mind. The sky is clear. I’ve never thought of it it that way. I never considered that I am not the problem.

“But here,” He touches my forehead to his. I adore the feeling. “Here you may be saved, Rachel. Here your differences are celebrated. Put to use. Here you can be fulfilled and you can be happy. That’s what this Project offers.”

The Project, on their cue, claps again, pleased with the power of their leader’s message. Joseph looks straight into my eyes. I feel his anchor sinking in to me. And I know I will follow him into the darkest depths of the sea.

“We will talk more, Rachel.” He says. I am passed back to Faith and seated beside her. She holds my hands tightly. Joseph continues his main speech to the rest of the crowd.

“The world as we know it, as we see it today, is full of fog. Clutter. Sin. Distractors from our destined path. My children, can’t you feel that the world around us today is not the world that God intended to create? You, like Rachel, who have found yourselves here today as a result of his divine plan must be aware, even if remotely, of this fact?

“Let me tell you: God is angry. God intends to wipe this world clean again, the way he flooded the earth allowing only Noah and his family to board the arc. We are once again approaching a storm. Which is why, my children, God spoke to me. He has called to me to reach out to all of you, to each and every one of you, that you might be saved. That you might be redeemed. That you might discover your purpose and follow the path which he has set for us. My children, won’t you take my hand? Won’t you take hands with me, my brother Jacob, my brother John, and my sister Faith and join us in our march to Eden’s Gate?

“You do not need to decide tonight. But I hope that at the very least, I have planted a seed.”

John is the first to laugh at his closing statement. Jacob again, has no reaction. As the crowd catches on, the chuckling grows. I myself laugh through my tears, but when I look in the audience, I see Tracey scowling.

---------

Crickets conduct their nightly symphony as Tracey and I walk through the long grass back to her pickup truck. She’s quiet, but her anger can be felt loud and clear. She’s walked a few steps ahead of me the whole way.

“Tracey,” I stop her, grabbing her hand.

I look into her dark eyes, those eyes that know more about me than any other soul on this earth. My closest and dearest friend.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

She scoffs, “What the hell happened between the two of you just now?”

I know she is talking about the moment I shared with Joseph, then my emotional breakdown and our uncanny closeness that took up a bulk of the sermon.

“I don’t know,” I tell her, “I haven’t quite wrapped my head around it yet.”

She crosses her arms for warmth, pulling on her long sleeve t-shirt. “It was...awkward- no, uncomfortable, no-- Rachel what the fuck was that? What the actual fuck was that?”

Suddenly I reread a beautiful chapter in my life as if it were some sort of vulgar oddity. I’m embarrassed. I look down.

“Look, Rachel.” Tracey sighs, “I know there are some things we don’t talk about. I know that everyone has got secrets. I just wish I knew before we came--”

I look up at her, confused. “Knew what?”

She swallows. “I shouldn’t say anything. Who am I to judge? I mean…”

“What are you trying to say?” I demand defensively.

“Nothing!” She puts her arms up and takes a step back from me. “Let’s just go home. Your dad is probably worried.”

“I don’t want to go home.” I tell her. It’s the truth.

She gives me a look of shock and confusion. “Rachel, these people…there is something not right about them. They’re apocalyptic. They’re all talking about willing to die for that man. It’s like they’re being brainwashed. Some kind of new age Japanese kamikaze squadron ready to blow themselves up! Not to mention they look like a bunch of crackheads.” She puts both hands on my shoulders and looks me straight in the eye, “I want you to get better, Rachel. I’m afraid these people will just-just exploit your addiction. They won’t heal you. They’ll make you worse.”

“At least I don’t feel like the odd one out!” I shout at her. I am more frustrated with the situation than with my friend. “I don’t know how much more I can take! I don’t want— No, I can’t go back to my dad, Tracey. I can’t go back to school. I’m already failing. It’s not like I’m going to graduate. I’ve got nothing! I haven’t eaten a proper meal in three months! What am I going to do with my life besides waitressing or prostituting myself or having some rich man’s kids? This place…” I start to tear up, “I know it’s not perfect but it’s better than what I have now.”

She scoffs. “You know that you’re better than that Rachel.”

I laugh, but I’m exasperated. “I don’t! I fucking don’t! I’m not like you, Tracey! I’m not smart! I can’t get a degree. I don’t have a mom who supports me and takes care of me.”

I’ve wounded her. “You know that’s not what this is about.”

“And you know what?” Tears stream down, “I’m not your fucking charity case.”

“Well what makes you think you’re theirs all of a sudden? What makes you think you’re his all of a sudden?”

So that’s it.

“You’re jealous,” I call her out.

She laughs it off. “Sorry, Rachel. I’m not jealous of your forty-something schizophrenic preacher boyfriend.”

Our argument becomes petty, like that of two bratty schoolgirls, the kind of people we have never been before. “He is not my boyfriend.”

“Oh really?”

“Why would you even say that?”

“Well you sure seem pretty close don’t you?”

“I don’t know what happened!” I yell. “I never met that man before tonight! You heard me on the phone! I had no idea who this group was or what they do!”

Her mouth twitches. “Well you’re a damn good liar Rachel.”

“I’m not lying!”

“You’re trying to tell me that the little scene you made back there wasn’t planned?”

I shake my head. “I don’t see how it could be.”

“And I don’t see how it couldn’t be.”

“Tracey!” I try so hard to get through to her, but nothing is working, “I’ve never lied to you! Not once in all these years!”

She’s quiet.

“Why don’t you believe me?”

She sighs and looks away.

I know that she is jealous. But I realize in that moment that she is not jealous of what happened to me tonight. She’s jealous because she can’t believe that I can find peace and happiness in a different place, that I can find it with people other than her.

“They aren’t trying to fix me,” I say with an angry, disillusioned certainty, “All you ever do, all you ever talk about is trying to fix me. You believe that I’m broken. You want me to be broken so you have something to do with your life besides sit in your nice fucking house with your nice fucking family. All I want...for God’s sake all I want is to feel like I have a purpose. I don’t want to be someone else’s purpose, Tracey. I want to be my own purpose.”

Tracey continues to avoid looking at me. She glances in different directions, looks at the ground by her feet. “So that’s it, Rachel?”

“What’s it?”

“You’re just going to throw our friendship away?”

I want to shake her. “What? No! Tracey that’s not what I said!”

She glares at me. “I’ve been here for you. I’ve fought for you for the last three years. We’ve grown up together. I’m sorry that’s not enough.”

“Tracey!”

She’s running to her truck. I try to follow her, but my lungs and legs are weak.

“Tracey!”

She’s too fast. I feel dizzy. My vision starts to blur. I try to pick up speed.

“Tracey I didn’t say that!”

She doesn’t turn around. She doesn’t look back. Gets in her car, starts the engine. The lights turn on and she speeds away.

I watch her tail lights fade. I’m sick of the taste of my own tears. I’m sick of this life. I drop to my knees and grip the grass as hard as I can with my fists. I scream into the blue night sky. What is the way? Where is the path? What is my life supposed to be? Who am I now that I have no one? I can’t walk home. I don’t want to walk home. I could call a cab but I don’t have any money.

If I go home, I don’t know if I will ever get out of the house again.

I hear Joseph’s words in the back of my head. I remember them almost verbatim: “When all doors have shut against you, when your friends and your families turn their backs on you, I will be standing here with open arms. There is nothing you have to change. No one else you have to be. You are loved here, just as you are. And you have always been worthy of that love.”

I turn around, take a deep breath, and run back to the ranch. It glows with warm light from inside. It’s the only light I see.

#far cry 5 #faith seed #far cry fanfiction #far cry 5 faith #fc5 #joseph seed #fc5 fanfic

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rizzopd · 5 years

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— ❝ wait is that DAVID HARBOUR ? or is that JOSEPH "JOE / JOEY" RIZZO who arrived in las vegas THIRTY-ONE YEARS AGO? HE is a FORTY-FOUR year old. last time i checked he was the CHIEF OF POLICE, LVMPD. rumour has it he's very TWO-FISTED and very BROODING. the CISMALE reminds me of SHAKE A LEG by ACDC.

hey ya’ll lmao. it’s ya girl cat, back w another shitty ass character bio (i play sloane too, in case u weren’t aware). hope u enjoy!

hailing from brooklyn, new york, rizzo was raised by an extremely italian, roman catholic family. we’re talking grandfather-straight-off-the-damn-boat from italy, might as well be a fuckin pepperoni italian. there, he lived in a compact two-story in the city with his grandfather, grandmother, mother, father and six aunts/uncles and older brother. he was youngest of all eight children (in conclusion: he’s baby and has been All Along).

his grandfather had celiac disease that was misdiagnosed as paranoid schizophrenia due to time-appropriate lack of medical knowledge, and was thus continually hospitalized throughout joseph’s early life. though reportedly abusive during his episodes, joey disputes this as he was too young to remember. by age three, his aunt tessie died in an automobile accident.

at age six, his mother and father split. his father was heavily involved in the mob scene and often brought home “dirty money,” though he swore off gang-related activity in his early twenties at the insistence of julia, joe’s mother. with his mother working wherever, however and whenever she could to bring in money, he spent much time with his nonna ----- fellas, this man is a highkey certified Grandma’s Boy. he was nonna’s favorite. he would do everything with her; laundry, cooking, help take care of his grandfather, and she even taught him how to play piano (said it built character). with his grandfather on high doses of thorazine (anti-psychotic) by this point, all he could do is pace and smoke cigarettes.

by the age of 10, following in the foot steps of his father and uncles, joey was beginning to get into some bad shit of his own (they say they start younger and younger???? ya’ll need ta RECOGNIZE). when his grandmother found out, she vowed she’d beat him senseless unless he shook himself of his “demons.” he obeyed. as if to reinforce her point, his father was murdered by the mob for dishonesty/unpaid dues just before his thirteenth birthday. he, his mother and his brother relocated to las vegas for fear of being sought after.

in las vegas, joey had no problem making friends. in high school, joey turned to sports to help cope with his anger issues. he was captain of the boxing team.

after high school, joseph turned to law with the hopes of making his mother proud. he worked as a homicide detective for many years before earning the title of chief of police. he’s been the police chief for the last ten years.

joe is an honest man, and not very political. even so, earning the title of police chief came with its own set of trials and tribulations. having taken over office from the previous police chief, there is still a lot of corruption joey is currently trying to overrule. it has in turn made him very unpopular in the eyes of the wealthy. as a result, joey is left to choose between the lesser of two evils in order to maintain balance between classes: which sometimes entails a level of corruption of his own. in short, he is trying to keep from being a scullion to different political influences.

joe has a bad drinking problem. he went through a cocaine period in the 70s, but has since kicked the hard stuff. even so, he is constantly under scrutiny for his behavior. he was even investigated for using confiscated substances though the case trailed cold, and no verdict was ever reached. he maintains he has never once abused his power as a lawman.

joe is the kind to shove you into the wall and then kiss ur head afterwards if we’re being honest. he loves kids, but hates punkassery. as long as u respect him, he’s lenient

joe is brazen and rough around the edges. though short-tempered, he has a strong intuition that is usually dead on. when he finds a lead, he’s like a dog with a bone.

joe has been married exactly once. he has an estranged daughter who also lives in las vegas.

he’s a sagittarrius lmfao

he’s just :( Trying His Best ok :( (he not tho)

wanted interactions (will be updated):

police informant: could be anyone tbh. what this would entail is one person (or could be several tbh, whoever’s interested) giving joe details about a specific situation (could be a drug distributing sitch, could be literally anything idc) in exchange for immunity. police informants were really popular in the 70s/80s especially (they’re still used today i believe? idk ya’ll i’m a pharm student tbh) and were especially useful in local cases. whoever is interested in this plot should know that their character would have to have been caught up in a situation that joe needs info on, and thus caught by him in order for this deal to be offered.

two foes, one common goal: again, could be anyone, but preferably someone in a position of power (doesn’t have to be political whatsoever, could be someone making a lot of money in something). this is a “you scratch my back, i’ll scratch yours” arrangement between two people who shouldn’t get along.

estranged daughter, caring dad: DOES NOT have to be a character made for this situation tbh. she doesn’t even have to have the same last name! just someone who would be interested having this ole gentle giant as their dad and allowing him to constantly bug you wanting to form a relationship. :”)

drinking buddy: this would be a type of situation where this person is always the last person at last call except for him. pros: this dude slowly opening up 2 u over time, like a lil flower :”) :”) :”)

that’s all i got, but i’ll update over time. thank u for reading i’m so sry this is trash i rly tried i have 3 brain cells luv u comment rate subscribe tahnks :) <3

#intro #eightyintro

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dovahgarbage · 5 years

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Thots on Far Cry New Dawn

ok so. imma put some of this under the cut because i dont want to spoil it for you’s who are still playing through it. but uhhhh gotta say. i was a bit underwhelmed by it over all.

ok so firstly i try not to judge a series of games based on previous installments because it doesnt feel fair to compare apples and oranges. but... this game was so obsessed with what happened in fc5 that it only feels fair that i’m allowed to look back as well.

So first and foremost, the game has a large emotional disconnect between Cap and citizens of hope county. All we really know about cap is that they are working for Thomas Rush to rebuild settlements across America. So they aren’t even from hope county and they have no context for anything that waits for them there. I was excited to see an outside perspective on the events of fc5, hear stories about the deputy that brought on the end of the world. I learned v quickly that this was a fool’s dream. See the problem with relaying the events of fc5 to a character like cap is they have next to no reason to be invested in the past of this area except “hey there’s fresh water here” or “hey this is a defensible position right”. Any emotional weight is shrugged off by Cap having no context of the history of these people or their struggles with each other. WE as players know everything. We’ve seen the horrors of Eden’s gate, we’ve seen the destruction the Seeds brought to hope county. We know what the fuck is going on. But cap has NO idea. And honestly isn’t really given a reason to try and find out more about it. Everything cap is doing is in an effort to bring down the highway men and build up settlements. (well. Settlement. All we have are outposts) why the hell would they care about who was who. What the fuck is a boomer. Who is this deputy everyone vaguely mentions and why do I give a shit?

And this gets to be a more noticeable problem as we interact with Joseph Seed. Big Daddy Greasy Jesus himself. I hate joseph as a person, love him as a villain. But… seeing him in this game, being forced to work with him as a player (KNOWING what he’s done and the countless lives he’s ruined) and the whole while the only person cap sees is some yoda motherfucker with meth apples that help you hulk out like… once.

That moment when joseph asks you to kill him? It made No Sense as to why cap would shoot him?? In their eyes, joseph has done nothing wrong. Ok maybe he wasn’t an A+ parent but nothing worth killing him over. This moment that is supposed to hold so much weight and meant to be a sort of catharsis for us as players and it just feels… hollow.

Lets discuss the Deputy. Because I have. Many feelings.

I honestly don’t understand why they weren’t the player character again. The narrative wouldn’t have had this huge emotional canyon to be filled between the county and cap. Coming across old guns for hire and friends would actually have… meant something. Revisiting old locations only to see them crumbled and over grown. Any interaction between them and joseph seed would have been charged with tension and held more water. Not to mention it would have made that decision in killing him potentially rewarding and not just “ehh I guess, you dick.”

Instead, the Judge is just kinda… there. In fact everyone is just kinda… there. But I got a laundry list of how Ubisoft did our baby Rook dirty.

[if !supportLists]1. [endif]Your efforts in the first game feel invalidated. Not just because you “lost” but because of how brushed under the rug the Deputy is. Only a few companions from the first game even Address the Judge. And even then, its no where near the emotional closure we would have liked.

[if !supportLists]2. [endif]Sharky doesn’t even speak to the judge. Nor does Grace. Nick has one throw away line. 0/10

[if !supportLists]3. [endif]Only Jerome and Carmina come close to giving any validation as far as showing a connection to Judge. Even then Jerome was more on the side of “I’m disappointed in you for having changed into this.” Hurk just makes jokes. Albeit funny jokes but still.

[if !supportLists]4. [endif]Also wasn’t the identity of the judge supposed to be a secret? Why the hell does everyone else know and new eden doesn’t?

[if !supportLists]5. [endif]The judge has NO reaction to either ending. None. Joseph lives or dies, it is the same. Silence.

[if !supportLists]6. [endif]Also why the hell does Cap get to kill him when the Deputy has suffered infinitely more at the hands of that lunatic? How am I supposed to feel like this is a rewarding decision to make?

I don’t know about anyone else, but I was very attached to my deputy. She wasn’t just a shell I inhabited as I played fc5. I wanted to know what happened to her after she escaped the bunker with joseph and I wanted her to find peace and closure after all she had sacrificed and suffered. The Junior Deputy deserved better!

Ok, so I’m moving on to the Twins. Honestly, they should have had their own game. Their potential as well rounded and fun far cry villains is wasted here.

The actresses did a wonderful job in making them charismatic and I loved the way their actions synced up and how one would finish the sentence of the other. It was very unified and the connection between them was very clear.

But I couldn’t connect with them as far as feeling threatened on screen. You could say it’s because we inherently don’t find women as scary as men in media and that’s entirely possible but narratively speaking, the Twins aren’t as threatening to me as villains because they lack something very vital – direction and purpose.

Mind you, all the far cry villains are so over the top and their motives don’t always make sense but I cannot wrap my head around the Twins motives? They’re here to have a good time and I guess they like to party but?? Why the hell would they want hurk’s baby, yknow? Why do they talk about problem solvers and problem makers when objectively, they HAVE to know they create more problems than they solve.

They TRY to give Mickey some depth with their mother and her making mickey promise to be better. But like… there’s not a lot of indication of growth or change or even regret in the end. After Lou’s death is only when mickey acknowledges that they only tore things down and never bothered making the world better but… lol where the hell did that conclusion come from? Why now? Why are you bringing this up now? (again cap has no context as to the significance of Mickey’s promise to her mother about protecting lou or trying to be better) At least with the Seeds they had a very clear purpose (prepare for the end of the world and horde as much shit as possible). Pagan Min had a purpose (crush the resistance that threatened his rule). Even Vaas as crazy and chaotic as he was still had a purpose in furthering Hoyt’s empire of drugs and slavery.

Also, the Twins are sort of in the backseat because of Joseph’s presence. It’s like ubisoft didn’t trust them to carry the series forward and instead chose to try and get a previous villain to anchor on. It diminishes their presence and importance and really just adds to the jumbled mess that is this game.

I personally blame rushed writing. Far Cry has a problem with putting out games fast and half baked. Far cry primal received a lot of flack for being a reused map of fc4. And I think given enough time and drafts this game could have been something better. Not perfect by any means. But definitely its own game.

All in all, I probably wont play it again. It doesn’t appeal to me anymore and has too many shortcomings for me to actually enjoy it. Day two of me playing it felt like just a confused slogging mess and I just zoomed through so I wouldn’t see spoilers on tumblr.

#asghfjs #im tired im going back to memes and fc5 #far cry new dawn #spoilers #far cry new dawn spoilers

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moviestorian · 5 years

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Les Mis BBC final thoughts

Alright, on monday I finished the 6th and last episode of the most recent, mini-series adaptation of Les Misérables. I was slightly hesitant about posting my thoughts (mostly because of the tag being largely dominated by negativity; any effort to post anything else seemed kind of pointless to me), but I eventually decided to go for it. I still wanted the entire show to sit in for a while (I also want to do a rewatch, because I can't guarantee that my feelings remain the same; I might just as well change my opinions completely). But let's begin!

Tldr; Also, unpopular opinion alert: I actually enjoyed it. A lot. I genuinely liked the miniseries. Yes, there were some choices and things I wasn't exactly fond of, but I have the same thing about literally every single adaptation I have seen so far (mostly thinking of the stage musical and 2012 film). Cause you know, you can like something and still see its flaws, and the other way round - you can dislike it and yet admit it is not inherently bad.

Now, the longer "review" comes in. It's gonna be reaaaally long. Also: spoilers.

The negatives/things I'm indifferent about/what could have been better:

- I'm following the popular trend of disliking that font. I care a lot about cinematography and visual parts of films and shows, so I wasn't satisfied with this particular choice. They could do better, honestly.

- For most of the time, the music was a bit meh. Nothing really striking or to hate, but compared to the War&Peace 2016 soundtrack (which was amazing!), this one was very undermining. There were some individual songs I liked a lot, though.

- The overall cinematography was ok. Again, nothing super special, but there were some pretty nice shots, too. I had some minor objections about cgi in a few scenes, but let's that the 2012 film wasn't exactly flawless in this aspect, too... If not worse.

- Ok, confession time & another unpopular opinion alert: I genuinely think the script is not half as bad as some people on this site try to tell everyone and the majority of their issues is either exaggerated to an enormous extent or comes from a huge prejudice. Or a general but pretty clear misinterpretation of certain scenes. Having said that, I had issues with the script, too. Davies did a waaay better job with his W&P, really. Although I actually like some of his changes or narrative choices, there is one thing I can't exactly ignore: how certain scenes were pure exposition. I think it got better in the later episodes, but I spotted at least two(!) examples just in episode one alone. Davies, being the experienced author as he is, should really know that it's not a good way to write scenes, especially in the first episode (which is supposed to encourage the viewers to keep watching). There's nothing more annoying to me than being treated, as a viewer, as a person who needs a straight-in-your-face explaination of what’s happening on screen.

- Another fairly popular trend: the brothel & the wet dream sequences. Even though I expected both of these to be A LOT worse, given what the fandom was saying (exaggerating again), and I don't think they are "out of character" or unrealistic in terms of the setting, I tried to cut these out from the episode (in my head ofc). And I think we could do without them; the brothel scene could remain in the final cut, but I would make it way shorter.

- What I REALLY disliked: a minor thing, but it bugged me a lot. I mean the main dialogue being in English, and the background dialogue in French. Christ, how I hate when they do such stuff in the movies...(thankfully the main characters didn't try to pull off their fake French accent, that would be even worse) Either you do it in French, or in English. One has to be consistent.

- The pissing scene in ep1 was...weird.

- Valjean being mean to Gavroche.

- The timeline was sometimes a bit odd, if not crazy, but could’ve been way worse (nothing can surpass P0ldark and its weirdly ageing children and even more weirdly, or not at all ageing adults)

- Valjean firing Fantine left me with very mixed feelings. On the one hand, I think it makes sense narratively, in this particular adaptation, it’s also not the first one who makes Valjean responsible for Fantine’s misery (to a smaller or bigger extent). On the other one, it’s not a choice I’m super happy about so...

Now, let's move on to the positives!

- Excellent choice in casting. I think all of the actors did a solid job. Obviously they had some veteran, experienced or acclaimed actors like Bradley, Sumpter, Jacobi, Colman, West... You couldn't expect any less from them. BUT there were also some younger and fresh faces, who's interpretations of their characters I really loved - Lily Collins, Erin Kellyman, Reece Yates, Josh O'Connor. Liked Joseph Quinn and Ellie Bamber a lot, too, especially the former. Obviously, I cannot NOT mention David Oyelowo! He was particularly impressive in the last episode.

- You have no idea how grateful I am for the entire Pontmercy storyline, honestly. I have so many feelings about Georges Pontmercy it's not even funny. Also baby Marius!!! Huge props for the Marius/Guillenormand dynamics.

- Fantine's storyline. I love the focus on her in this adaptation, and instead of merely showing her "downfall", we got to see her entire background story and many faces of her character. From naivety and joyful innocent to her determination to survive, and, finally, her desperate attempts to feed her daughter. I love that we got to see a glimpse of her relationship with Cosette. I love that, heartbreaking as that scene was, we got to see the moment of her leaving her child with the Thénardiers. Loved that she was also outspoken at times. I really felt for her in this series. Naturally, I always do have tons of empathy for Fantine, she's one of my favourite characters in general, but I found Lily Collins' version to be particularly relatable.

- Btw: I disagree that Fantine and Cosette were overly "sexualized" or fetishized. And don't even get me started on the supposed "sexual undertones" between Cosette and Valjean, cause this is utter bullshit.

- I actually liked the relationship between Cosette and her Papa, especially when she was little!

- I loved Gavroche in this adaptation. I'm usually not a huge fan of his, but Reece was so charming and impossible to resist!

- All the side characters (good or bad) we finally got to see at least for a while! I already mentioned the Pontmercies, but I also mean: Petit Gervais, Tholomyès and his gang (+Favourite and Zephine), Azelma, Gavroche's little brothers, Mabeuf, even Victurnien. And Sister Simplice, I love that woman. And Rivette. 😁

- Huge thumbs up for portraying the Thénardiers as the evil/malicious people they were (but not one-dimensional, esp. Madame Th.) instead of as some comic relief only.

- Contrary to the popular opinion, I count Les Amis as the positives. I actually think that narrowing down the number of the students to focus on was a good choice (like, excuse me, but giving a few lines to a character in an ensemble song is not enough to give them personality. Even in the book some hardly had one). And guess what? I legit cared more about this Enjolras or this Courfeyrac than in other adaptations. I liked Quinn's version of Enjolras more than I like Hugo's original character. This is obviously a personal preference, but to me personally Quinn's slightly toned down version, sort of a hybrid of Enjolras and Combeferre was way more appealing (I also think Quinn had more innocence and wide-eyedness in his eyes and face than some most popular actors who have played the role. To me, the accurate hair colour is the least sygnificant thing, honestly. Especially that some of the fans' favourites hardly fit the book description in that aspect).

- The Enjolras/Grantaire execution scene.

- Small interactions between Enjolras and Courfeyrac. Especially the ones in the final moments of the resistance. Oh my...

- Overall, the barricade scenes were very good.

- I liked Marius a lot, which is quite a thing! I loved that we got the awkward, but still adorable side of his. I had seen Josh in The Riot Club and I remember him being good but not memorable; I was impressed with his performance in Les Mis, he was so different!

- Erin's Éponine broke my heart. Especially in episode 5, she was fantastic. So many expressions in her eyes; I loved her fidgety hand moves, too!

- I appreciate that they started the show with something other than the galleys/bishop Myriel. That was a nice and quite refreshing take.

What else do I like about this adaptation? That it revived my passion for Les Mis; that it made me want to reread the book (or certain chapters at least), rewatch the 2012 film, listen to songs from the musical, check out other adaptations. That it’s gonna bring new people to the fandom. And, whether you like it or not, it DOES offer new interpretations of the characters and actually does give a fresh take. Every adaptations gives us something new to discuss, this one included. I also don’t believe it’s the worst thing that ever happened to Les Mis or whatever; I happen to think it actually is a good adaptation overall. Is it flawless or 100% accurate in everything? No, because it’s impossible to turn such a huge and detailed book into a 100% faithful adaptation; also it’s really not what the adaptations are for. I too would have added/cut out some stuff from various versions of Les Mis, but this is because it’s my interpretation; the fact that we imagine some things differently does not mean that other people’s interpretations are bad.

Since films and tv shows belong to the visual media, I think that Les Mis BBC could have done better in that aspect - I wasn’t exactly satisfied with it, as I wasn’t exactly over the moon about some choices in the script. It’s not a masterpiece, but I never expected it to be one; neither it is a “piece of shit”. Despite its flaws, I still found the miniseries to be very enjoyable and I will gladly rewatch it in the near future. I feel that it might even become one of my favourite adaptations(I will decide once I’ve seen them all, or most of them!), save for the interpretation of JVJ, which could’ve been better tbh. For me, it��s a nice 7,5/10

#les miserables 2018 #long post #wera speaks #gotta prepare for the unfollows #les mis bbc

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alicescripts · 6 years

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Part 3, Chapter 8: “To Forgive”

Alice: The mountains in Tennessee look almost tropical this morning. Mist over forest canopy, lakes with low bridges. I don’t know what I pictured when I pictured this place, but it wasn’t this. I guess I didn’t picture it. Never bothered to.

Keisha: We come into Nashville. Each city skyline has that one building. The one that lets you know which city you’re looking at, because otherwise every skyscraper is every skyscraper. In New York, there’s the Empire State. In Los Angeles, there’s that round one. I dunno what it’s called, I don’t think anyone does. It’s… you know, the round one. And in Nashville, there’s the Batman building. That’s not what it’s called. I’m sure there’s some architectural reason for its design, but what it looks like is that it’s a building shaped like Batman’s head.

Alice: A soft tap on the cab door while we slept and I was already awake and tensed. A lot of training and even more justifiable worry had gone into my years fighting these creatures, and the slightest sound could mean anything at all. So that’s what I had to be ready for.

Keisha came awake too, in response to my getting up. I put my finger to my lips, crept to the door, and flung it open. The kids screamed. It was a teenage girl. My brain was putting together the pieces and was about to deliver the words “Oh you must be- “, when Keisha screamed too and threw herself past me. “Sylvia! Sylvia, you’re safe!” “Oh, you must be Sylvia,” I said. The girl nodded into Keisha’s shoulder.

Alice Isn’t Dead by Joseph Fink. Performed by Jasika Nicole and Erica Livingston. Produced by Disparition. Part 3, Chapter 8: “To Forgive”.

Alice: The meetings of what we now called Praxis continued. We met once every three months. This was not going to be a fast process. Oh, we had aged. Oh yes, almost a year and a half of this already. The battle was never going to be fast. The only way to overthrow power is by driving in the thinnest edge of the wedge and then methodically and constantly tapping it in for years. Until there’s enough leverage for what only looks from the outside like a sudden upheaval.

The meetings had taken on a religious aspect. Stories of the Oracles were now recited like encounters with angels. It wasn’t quite worship, but it wasn’t quite not. And we didn’t (deter) that. Worship and rituals can be tools, used for good or bad.

We realized that we couldn’t oversee the group entirely on our own, so we gave all of the people an assignment. Go back to where they were from and start their own Praxis group. Gather people around the same way we had. Start hundreds of these all over the country. We tapped that wedge in a little deeper.

Keisha: First I gave Sylvia some water and a bit to eat, but next I sat her down and wanted to hear where in hell she had been all this time, and if she had found anything. “Yes and no,” she said. She had gone looking for the Oracles, just like she said she would. Just like we did. And like us, she discovered quick that the Oracles are only findable when they choose to be found. There’s no stumbling on them. They come to you. Still she visited every dusty roadside stop that hadn’t seen action since the 70’s, and she poked into the corners in the back rooms. She started to get a sense for the kind of places that they were drawn to.

She discovered, like us, that even when finally encountered, the Oracles had difficulty communicating with people who experienced through such a fundamentally different filter. The more she found and talked to them, the more she felt it was most similar to the way her mind worked when she first woke up. When her thoughts were flat and straddled what was real and unreal equally. So she would meditate for hours in the mornings, trying to hold onto and extend that way of thinking, so that she might be able to understand the Oracles better.

But ultimately, she realized that the Oracles were a cause. They existed to fight back Thistle and everything that Thistle stood for. They were a purpose more than a creature. And so she realized that while she wouldn’t be able to understand them enough to help them, she could go on continuing their purpose herself. It was all she had ever cared about. This struggle was the core and soul of her.

“And I knew,” Sylvia said, “that if I wanted to be there for the fight, I had to come to you, Keisha. Because for whatever reason, you’re where that fight ends up.”

The motel we stay at is full of high school kids on a trip, to learn how to make it in the country music business. Like any city devoted to a specific entertainment industry, like LA to the movies or New York to the theater, or Las Vegas to upper despair, Nashville has a hole at the heart of it that everything in the city slopes toward.

Alice: I wasn’t there for this, so this is what I heard. A coffee shop past closing. The owner let the folks use it because she herself was a member. This was one of hundreds of small Praxis groups started by one of the original faithful. In this case, it was Daniel, who once manned the counter at the Easy Stop in Swansea. He told the others again about what we had told them, passing along our stories as best he could remember, and like anyone sort of making it up any time he needed to fill the gaps. In this way, our story spread. In much less of a direct fashion than a big headline, but in a way that people would actually receive.

Then the others told their own stories. In the hush of that half-darkened coffee shop, they shared what they had seen that hadn’t been possible and definitely hadn’t been right. But had been real. They felt the utter relief of being believed.

Keisha: “It’s all gonna end soon,” said Sylvia. And I felt every connotation of good and bad she meant by that. This was coming to a head, even though we had no real way of knowing what that would mean. “I’m just glad we could all be together for that,” I said. “Yeah man,” she said. “The three of us scattered out real good. I guess this would have to be the end, right? How else would we have ever gotten it together to be in the same place at the same time?” “What was that name you used it to go by as a teenager?” I said. “Forget it,” she said. “Skip, right?” [chuckle] “Nobody calls me Skip anymore.” “Alright,” I said. She took my hand. “You can call me Skip if you want. [scoffs] Shit, you can call me whatever. I know what you mean by it.” I put my arm around her, this runaway teenager who I would never be able to protect as much as she deserved. We sat like that for a long while, but we couldn’t sit like that forever. Couldn’t do anything forever.

Alice: “I don’t know how this will turn out,” Keisha said. “I don’t know if there will be an after, but there might be, and so we need to talk about what comes next.” “OK,” I said with real fear. We had stayed together because we had a mission, because there was a great struggle and we were on the same side. That kind of energy can paper over a lot of dysfunction and pain. If we made it through this, maybe there wouldn’t be an us left to talk about. And maybe Keisha knew it. I dreaded this conversation, but I had a lot of experience in my life of facing what I dread. So I sat down and I listened. Keisha took a long breath with her eyes closed. And then she looked at me with a calm determination, someone who had moved past indecision and had landed, for good or bad, on their way forward. “I forgive you,” she said. “I forgive you completely.” [chuckles] I felt this wash of happiness, and also surprise because they were not the words I was expecting, but she brushed aside my hand as I moved it toward her. “I’m not finished,” she said.

The members of those smaller Praxis groups were asked to start their own groups. Now the regional became the local. Most towns of any size had a Praxis group, some as small as three or four, others in the hundreds meeting in community centers and parks, in libraries and diners. We didn’t know all the details. For instance, we didn’t know what had happened to the story. The story that we had told our group, and then the members of our groups had told their groups and so on and so on.

The story had changed. It had become less an oral history and more a religious text. We had become prophets or minor deities. There were the Oracles and they were powerful beings that many had started to worship. But there were also the stories of Keisha and Alice, who controlled the Oracles, who could fight off Thistle Men singlehandedly, who would one day come and raise up the entire country against the monster that strangled it.

I-I dunno what we would have done with that story if we had known about it. But in the end, all that can be controlled is what you do. What others think about what you do is out of your hands. It was out of our hands.

Keisha: It had been over two years of this slow growth. Praxis had unfolded from a word whispered in weird corners into a tangible movement of people, a quiet gathering ready to explode into the open. And it wasn’t lost on Thistle or on Bay and Creek.

In that motel room in Nashville, a piece of paper slid under the door. Against the curtain, the shambling shadow of a misshapen man. We prepared for a fight, but it was quiet for a long time, and so I picked up the paper.

“Alice,” it said. “We should talk. It doesn’t have to be like this. Meet me at” and here it gave directions to a remote location in southern Indiana. The paper was signed “Lucy”. “They’re ready to end this,” said Alice. “Yeah,” I said. “Put out the call. What we’ve been preparing for. It’s here.”

“I’m not finished,” I said to Alice. “I’m not forgiving you for your sake. I need you to hear all of this, not just the parts you want to hear. I don’t know if you deserve forgiveness, and maybe I don’t care. Maybe there isn’t some great balance sheet where the equation of guilt can be figured until it’s all equal on both sides. And maybe it’s just what the person who has hurt feels, right or wrong. And if so then – I don’t wanna think about what you deserve. I wanna think about what I deserve.” I paused. The heaviest part was out of me now, and I could see clear through to the finish. “I deserve to live a happy life,” I said. “I deserve to have my wife who I love at my side. I deserve to wake easy in the morning and to fall asleep easy at night. I deserve to not have what you did intruding into our lives. So I want you to understand this: in order to have what I deserve, I must forgive you. But I’m not forgiving you for you. I’m forgiving you because it’s what I deserve.”

She nodded, in understanding and agreement. And there was a moment of tension. But I had forgiven her and I meant it. I leaned forward and she leaned forward and we met in the middle in maybe the best kiss we’ve ever had. Our bodies collapsed together with the gravity of everything we felt.

I had been holding my breath for years. I opened my mouth. I breathed in. [deep breath] This is love. This is what it’s made of.

The night before Indiana. I don’t know Lucy’s plan but I can guess. I don’t know who will stand on our side, but I can hope.

There is a knock, and Sylvia calls out through the door. I open it and she’s standing in the motel walkway, looking not herself under fluorescent glare. “I feel so strange,” she said. I guided her in. Alice came over and concerned. Sylvia looked seriously ill. I had never seen her face like that. I didn’t know what was happening. And then Sylvia fell to the ground and began to tremble. Tears splashed off her face as she shook. “I understand,” she said. “I understand.”

And in a terrible moment, I did too.

#alice isn't dead #alice isn't dead transcripts #part 3 #part 3 chapter 8 #to forgive #long post

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krs724490 · 3 years

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I have to come on here and say something because this is really quite profound. I’ve wrote on this tumblr about every man. Literally since the OG Evan Flashner. And here I am. Back. This time it’s about Tyler Joseph Horner.

I have to say. I had hoped for myself that I wouldn’t be back so soon. That I would take time to build myself up without anyone in the picture. As you’ll learn, Tyler has taught me that building yourself and building a relationship are not mutually exclusive events. They can, in fact, occur simultaneously. And, actually, work together quite beautifully. Tyler has taught me so many things. So much so, that I know whatever happens, he’s given me more than I could ever ask from him and for that I am grateful. That is how I want to set the tone for this. So, let’s start at the beginning, shall we?

I met Tyler late February 2021 in Vail, Colorado. He was there on a ski trip with friends whom I am also friends with. I drove in from Denver to stay with them for a few days. I remember walking into the airbnb and taking mental note that he was the most attractive male there. No shame. It’s what I thought! Later that night we went to the grocery store. This is when being vegetarian came in handy! You see, Tyler is also vegetarian. So naturally, our friend Marcela thought there could be a potential match between us **eye roll at how she was right. Anywho! We discussed lentil pasta while the crew ran around filling 2 carts to the brim (literally) with all the food we would need for the week. They then proceeded to leave us in the car alone together while they took forever in the liquor store (not not on purpose). We made light get to know you conversation. Nothing crazy. Just what you would expect. & that’s the night we met. Funny how you look back at days like this & realize you had no idea you were meeting someone special.

Fast forward to the night. Ya know.. the night ;) I’m going to be honest here. And I don’t think Tyler knows this. But, I went on a date in Breckenridge that night (Danny was vanilla)….. then came back to our Airbnb in Vail to find the whole squad turnt up. By turnt up, I mean, quite hammered. Ya know, sloshed. I joined in the festivities and then, slowly, people started retreating to their rooms for bed. Eventually, Tyler and I were left in the living room. I’m not going to go into detail here, but you can imagine what happened. We slept uncomfortably on the couch. I’m still not sure how Tyler’s arm is attached to his body after that. The next morning I really just did not know what to do with myself. I still laugh at how awkward I felt. I didn’t know what to do with my hands!!! (Anchorman reference) I don’t do one night stands. In fact, I have never had a one night stand. This had that sort of vibe to it as Tyler is from New York & I was leaving that day to go home. So, I woke up and could not look him in the eye. I said my goodbyes to everyone (awkwardly side hugged Tyler saying nice to meet you, absolutely no eye contact was made) and drove back to Denver. On the drive home I imagine I was probably hitting myself over the head saying, “stupid stupid stupid.” Not over the awkwardness of the goodbye, but over my love life as a whole.

A few days later, he texted me. I knew I had no room for boys in my life, so when he texted me at first I was thinking “goddammit ain’t nobody got time for this….” but then we texted, and texted, and texted, and TEXTED. When I say we texted, I mean, it eventually got to the point where I was sending 80 messages at a time that took me an hour to write. Different conversation threads. Incredible emoji usage. I had to set aside time to message him back - I made myself a cup of tea and every night I would sit and write Tyler, sipping on it. There were times I would look forward to it. Other times I was exhausted typing things out haphazardly. I was trying to be funny and entertaining, witty, with those messages. Phone calls were sprinkled in here and there - when we could find time in our schedules that didn’t seem to too align well. My raspy voice could barely hold up my end of the conversation. Next thing I knew he was back in Colorado to “visit his Aunt & see Ki and Bobby” hehe. I’d like to think he was coming for me.

His first visit back, I met him at a coffee shop in Cherry Creek. I remember being so nervous! He pulled up in his uber, jumped out, scooped me!!! Kissed me!! And then put me down??!! Amazing. Incredible. Wonderful. Outstanding. I went to Ki and Bobby’s (by the way the sweetest couple ever) to see him the next night. The next day, we practically walked a half marathon…. we went down the Cherry Creek Trail to get matcha at the same shop as the day before (we were regulars now)(this was before Tyler drank matcha - also he knows about cherry park! Ask him about it!) Then, we went to tattered cover book store (of course), ate at True Food kitchen (vegetarians ugh!), got ice cream (DUH), stopped for some kombucha (which flavor to choose ?!), and circled back home. We got our steps in. Which is a thing that Tyler does on the regular. Now that I think about it, it’s an underrated thing that he has brought to my life. I love walking everywhere in order to eat, see, and do all the things. You come home tired, feeling accomplished. What a good practice to have. On the last day, he came to my yoga class at ONE. Which means a lot to me as a lot of my friends and family don’t participate in or see what I do. And I love what I do. So for him to be there and see the things and try the things ?! Thank you.

**one month later** Tyler is back in CO! This time to “see Anthony” his old roommate who was there working remotely. This is the trip I got called a fungible asset! We went to Boulder to hike the flat irons. My tummy hurt on that hike, but I didn’t bring it up. We had tacos for dinner with Anthony and Jen and Alanoud and her bf. Tyler cooked dinner for his Aunt Vicki and I the next night. Impossible burgers and veggies in her backyard! I like her yard. Something so homey about it. Juju and Syrus were great company. Remember how earlier I said it’s funny how you don’t realize you’re meeting someone important when you’re meeting them? That’s also true for Syrus. My future hiking partner. More on Vicki to come. She’s amazing.

Now we reach the point where it’s my turn to go see Tyler. So I book a flight to New York in July. 2 months away. These 2 months flew by. We texted and called. I do have to mention that this was when I was running on a treadmill at VASA & suddenly decided I did not want to be with Tyler. I was unhappy with my body and fitness goals. I had convinced myself over the course of that 30 minute run that Tyler was the reason I didn’t have my shit together. I simply didn’t have excess energy to give to a relationship - I needed to use that energy on myself. I had made up my mind to call him right after I got off the treadmill to tell him I was done. That way I could focus on myself and lift weights lol. So I got off the treadmill and told my front desk friends what I was going to do. They said ok! but what did he do wrong? I said... well nothing, I just decided I’m done. and they were like... ok? So then I took a step back and thought - it’s not like he compromises my workout schedule or changes my eating habits because he eats unhealthy.. he doesn’t even live here. He doesn’t interfere with my day to day life. I also really enjoy talking to him. He doesn’t stress me out at all. He’s actually... never done anything wrong really... in fact, I think my life might be worse off if I wasn’t talking to him. Now this, was a concept. One I had never encountered before.

Also over the course of this time, I took Syrus for 2 hikes and got to know his aunt. Which, in its own way, was connecting to Tyler. We chatted in her backyard about Tyler and his family. She told me about herself. About how she loved being independent. We bonded over this as I’m the same way. I don’t need anyone. I like to do things alone to better soak them in. She reminisced about Chad and Tyler when they were kids. We talked about dating… all of the things! I really admire what she’s done with her life. She’s so content in her cute home. She’s very connected to her inner circle - she knows everyone in the neighborhood! She treats them like family. She made me feel like family! Inviting me back. Wanting to hang out. Telling me straight up that she liked me. This made me really happy. Not because she’s Tyler’s aunt and I want to feel close to him, but because it felt nice, warm, wholesome, genuine.

Then it came time to go to New York. For some reason I was really quite nervous. The day before I was on edge. I had butterflies the whole Uber ride to his apartment. But as soon as I was with him that all subsided.

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mycasandstarrs · 6 years

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SPN 01X01: “Pilot”

I’‘“cI personally believe (and know) that I have a bit of an issue with not knowing how much to share about myself, but I figured I’d tell y’all a bit about my history with the SPN Rewatch experience.

I actually participated in last year’s SPN Rewatch and had a lot of fun with it! I had originally wanted to liveblog it on here but chickened out at the last moment and ended up liveblogging it (so to speak) in my journals. When Hurricane Harvey hit, the Rewatch was the thing that kept me going and gave me a sense of stability.

I’m more than happy and excited to be doing this all over again, with the added bonus of liveblogging here on my blog! I’ve got a good chunk of time on my hands and I figured it would be good character development for me to do this publicly, so without further ado, here is my liveblogging of S1EP1 “Pilot”.

Lawrence, Kansas. 22 years ago.

“Come on, let’s say good night to your brother.” Mary’s first words on the show.

“’Night, Sam.” Dean’s first words.

“Hey Dean.” John’s first words.

They seemed like such a normal, happy, loving family. *cries*

I think the show does a great job of setting up Mary as a regular housewife and the Winchesters as an ordinary family; it made me believe at very first viewing that what happened to them next was just an unfortunate stroke of luck, as opposed to something that was in the works and destined for them for years, hell, decades.

(I’m noticing old, vintage wedding photos. Are they the wedding photos of John and Mary’s parents?)

“Sammy? Sammy!” Mary’s last words.

And there’s the scream of horror.

Oh, jesus christ. Nothing prepared me for that death and even now my stomach turns seeing Mary on the ceiling like that. RIP Mary Winchester.

“Take your brother outside as fast as you can and don’t look back! Now Dean, go!”

(Little baby Sammy was so cute.)

Our first (silent) title card!

Enter Jess. “Sam! get a move on! We were supposed to be there like 15 minutes ago. Are you coming or what?”

I don’t know the exact details of the night Sam left for Stanford (besides the blow out fight between Sam and John) but at some point Sam packed the photo of his parents and he has it out on display in his apartment. That’s incredibly sweet.

THERE’S OUR SAMMY!

Proud girlfriend Jess leads a toast to Sam and his LSAT score. (174!)

There’s a notable concern in Jess’ eyes when Sam tells them that his family doesn’t know about his stunning achievement. Did she ever ask about Sam’s family or did she ever plan to ask about them?? She seems like the type to let things go if someone asked her to, but eventually it had to be worrying her...like here.

“I’m proud of you. And you’re gonna knock ‘em dead on Monday and you’re gonna get that full ride. I know it.”

“What would I do without you?”

“Crash and burn.”

*screams in foreshadowing*

Jess was such a good and supportive girlfriend. Sensing that Sam didn’t have a good upbringing/home life, she really goes the extra mile to show her support for him, which I’m sure Sam deeply appreciated.

And there's my beloved Dean!

AWWW THOSE BABY VOICES.

Ah so, Jess knew Sam had a brother.

LMAO @ Sam for pulling the “Whatever you have to say to me, you can say it in front of her” card.

THEN he tries to fucking be a smartass when Dean tries to put it delicately. (”Dad hasn’t been home in a couple of days.”)

And finally, there’s the backfiring on Sam’s part when Dean says the now famous (and later paralleled) line:

I can see the Lucifer/Michael parallels as early as right here: Sam, rebellious and angry at the absent father vs Dean, dutiful and loyal to the absent father.

“You think mom would have wanted this for us?”

No, Sammy, she did not.

“I can’t do this alone.”

“Yeah, you can.”

“Yeah...well i don’t want to.”

Still true to this day.

The Impala’s arsenal! Still so awesome.

“Dad let you go on a hunting trip by yourself?”

On first viewing, I immediately thought, “Dude, he looks old enough to be on his own” just as Dean said:

“I’m 26, dude.”

and that’s the exact moment I claimed him as my favorite.

Wow, 3 weeks? No wonder Dean was worried.

WHOA how did Sam have THAT KIND OF BLADE WITH HIM??

“Hey, everything’s gonna be ok. I promise.” Sam’s last words to Jess. Oh jesus, why.

I got fucking jumpscared by the show, goddamn it.

Welp, RIP Troy. I’d feel worse for him if he hadn’t tried to cheat on his girlfriend.

Real rich of Sam ragging on Dean about the credit card scams, when about 9 years later (S10) he offers to teach Claire about the very same thing. That’s A+ character development coming up.

“Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole.”

(I think this is Dean’s first “Sammy” of the show, no?)

agH Netflix still hasn’t got the right music for this season. No AC/DC for me here. :(

I love seeing Sam’s ~shocked~ face at all the fake ids. What an innocent baby.

Posing as federal Marshals.

“You two are a little young for marshals, aren’t you?”

“Thanks, that’s awfully kind of you.”

LMAOO. I wish I can brush shit off like that. #goals.

That accurate display of sibling culture:

Now posing as Troy’s uncles. (Really? Uncles?)

Sam and Dean: “What do they talk about?” (That synch up!!!)

The first scene Jensen and Jared filmed together: the library research scene. :’)

1981. Constance Welch, 24 y.o, jumps off a bridge. An hour before the suicide she called 911 to report that her kids were dead in the bathtub. “Our babies were gone, and Constance just couldn't bear it," said husband Joseph Welch.”

At the crime scene. A bro fight is a-brewin’.

“Even if we do find the thing that killed her, Mom's gone. And she isn't coming back.”

Them’s fightin’ words!

Wait about 11 years on that, Sam.

Dean is loyal to both absent parents.

And Sam didn’t even apologize for that! Dude, wth. (Tho Dean didn’t apologize for slamming him into the bridge, so I guess its even.)

There’s Constance.

“Who’s driving your car?”

*Dean holds up car keys*

lmao.

How fucking athletic of Sam to hold onto the side of the bridge, hot damn.

Then there’s poor Dean covered in mud.

“That Constance chick, what a BITCH.”

“You smell like a toilet.”

Sam picking his first lock on the show.

Just noticed that John had an area on the wall dedicated to “Deals and Demons”. ohohoho, hoo boy.

Monster of the Episode: Woman in white (Constance Welch.)

Oh there we go, Sam’s apologizing for what he said on the bridge.

“Hey, no chick flick moments.”

“All right, jerk.”

“Bitch.”

John had a photo of him and the boys. :’)

Oh, Sam’s listening to a voicemail left by Jess.

Welp, cops.

“So come home soon, okay? I love you.” Jess’ last words to Sam.

“So. Fake US Marshal. Fake credit cards. You got anything that's real?”

“My boobs.”

I fucking love S1!Dean. What a babe.

Dean, er, “Ted Nugent” is in “real trouble” here.

John’s journal. Unceremoniously dumped on the table in front of Dean.

“DEAN 35-111″

Joseph Welch.

Sam, now posing as a reporter.

Sam taking a plunge and telling Joseph about the Woman in White.

Welp, he got kicked out but he got the info he needed.

Out goes Dean, courtesy of Sam’s fake 911 call as a distraction.

“I’m taking you home.” OOOHHHH THAT ONE LINER THOO

Aaand he drives the Impala into the house.

Creepy ghost children.

Oh good lord. RIP Constance Welch, again and permanently.

They are the absolute cutest :)

Blackwater Ridge, Colorado.

Aww Dean. He got so used to having Sam around. :(

“I’ll take you home.” Makes me sad that S1!Sam’s “home” was a place without Dean and Dean knew it.

“You know, we made a hell of a team back there.”

Dean’s goodbye, because actually saying “goodbye” would hurt too much. (Or maybe he was trying to plant the seed of “come hunting with me” in Sam’s mind...)

Sam enters his apartment...goes into his bedroom (eating something too, maybe the cookies Jess was baking?)

And there it is. RIP Jessica Moore, died the exact same day and way that Mary died.

Ugh god, that instance when Dean looks up and sees Jess on the ceiling. That one tiny moment of shock, horror, and realization that that’s how his mother died too. Jesus, Jensen’s a good actor.

And then it’s straight to saving Sam.

One brother pulling the other brother away from his lover to save his life, at the cost of leaving the brother’s loved one behind. Totally won’t be repeated later on in the series...

Dean doesn’t even know what to say to Sam. I don’t blame him.

OOHHHH!!!!!!

And that’s the Pilot. One of my favorite Pilots of any of the tv shows that I watch, and a pretty good episode for Supernatural. I love revisiting the baby faces and voices of the brothers, and I love pointing out all the things that are gonna change for the brothers in upcoming seasons (from Sam’s disdain of credit card scams to Mary “not coming back”). Overall, an A+ episode for me.

#spn summer rewatch #spn liveblog #spn 1x01 #this was already so much fun #this also took about 3 hours to do #but it was 3 hours well spent tbh

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