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fruitydiaz-archived · 3 years

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that's what i want for him

post-eddie begins | eddie meets with his attorney to change his will | a little feelings realization | a little pining | a little buckley-diaz family moment

4,097 words

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The day that Eddie has his appointment with his attorney to alter his will, he’s sick with nerves.

He thought he had made peace with his own mortality a long time ago, when he enlisted and found himself pinned down, a world away from his family and bleeding out in the middle of a warzone — but something about the official stature of a will has always made him feel nervous.

He’s still young, and he has no plans to die anytime soon, but who really does? Shannon certainly hadn’t planned on it either. Dealing with grief is hard enough as is, especially when it’s the loss of a parent, and if Eddie can make that experience any more bearable for Chris, then that’s what he’s going to do.

Ever since Shannon died, he’s had his parents down as Christopher’s legal guardians should anything happen to him. It wasn’t a decision he ever felt comfortable with — but he didn’t have anyone else, and he didn’t really have a choice. He had to make sure that Christopher had someone in case things went wrong on a call.

But since the well came down — well, before that actually. Ever since the tsunami, ever since the lawsuit, ever since the skateboard accident — Eddie’s known that he needs to adjust his will, because in none of those situations were Eddie’s parents around to make sure Christopher was okay.

Buck was.

It wasn’t that they didn’t care. They certainly called Eddie after they heard the news about the tsunami. They asked if Christopher was okay (not him, Christopher), and made their usual comments about how Texas would be so much safer for him — they hadn’t had both an earthquake and a tsunami over the last year. They made sure they did their best to let Eddie know that he was making a mistake keeping Chris there, that he was making a mistake not relocating him after he lost his mom, that Chris was going to get seriously hurt one of these days and it would be his fault. They said all of the things he knew they would.

But they weren’t there.

The well was a close call — too close — and in that moment when the mud came down on top of him and the water started to fill his lungs — he realized he couldn’t leave Christopher with them. Not when there was someone else right there, someone who loved Christopher the way he did, someone who would do anything for him, someone who understood him.

He’s still reeling from the accident a bit, as he sits in the office, bouncing his leg up and down and trying hard to tamp down his nerves and failing, as you do after near-death experiences. He keeps having to remind himself that he’s not down there anymore, that there isn’t water all around him, that he can breathe perfectly fine, that he’s on solid ground now.

He has to remind himself that when he fell, Buck and Hen were there to grasp his hands and pull him back up. He’s okay.

“Mr. Diaz?” A voice calls to his left. He looks up to see his attorney in the doorway, standing with her hands clasped in front of her. She smiles at him politely.

She’s a tall, fairly nondescript woman, with soft, quiet features, and thick curly black hair that’s always pulled back into a bun. She always comes dressed in suits but leaves her suit jacket draped over the back of her chair, moving about her office and greeting clients in soft cashmere sweaters.

She always seems to be wearing a smile — but not in an unsettling way. When Shannon was still around, when Eddie was warming up to the idea of welcoming her back into his life, Eddie had made some comment about her having middle school teacher energy — the kind of middle school teacher that still enjoyed working with kids but also took them seriously and didn’t allow any room for bullshit — and Shannon had laughed at him for using the word energy. She said something about Buck rubbing off on him and he rolled his eyes.

It’s just that she reminds him of someone, someone from his past — but he just can’t ever place her. He’s always been bad with faces. But there’s something familiar and grounding about her, something that helped Eddie feel calm when he first met her. But today, she doesn’t calm his nerves.

He feels sick.

He hasn’t seen her since Shannon died.

He stands up and wipes his shaking hands against his jeans, following her into her office.

When Eddie imagined an attorney’s office, when he was a little younger and more naive, he imagined it being small, cramped, with overflowing filing cabinets against one wall and bookshelves filled with boxes of legal documents and binders and books filled with rules and statutes that he could never dream of understanding. He imagined it as something that would make him feel small and cramped — and that the lawyer on the other side of the desk would peer over their tiny wireframe glasses at him and scrutinize every decision he made.

But Stacy’s office is different — it’s calmer, more minimalist. Her walls are a cool white that contrasts against all of the black furniture. The boxes on her shelves are a uniform grey with white labels with little script that’s illegible to Eddie. She even has a little bonsai tree on her desk. It reminds him of a therapist’s office — one that Shannon tried to make him see earlier on in their marriage, between deployments. Sometimes he can appreciate the universe’s weird sense of humor. Today he doesn’t.

He hates having to be here, having to deal with all of the weird legal aspects of living and dying, but he’s doing this for Christopher, so he swallows his nerves.

“I understand you’re wanting to change your will?” Stacy begins, pulling Eddie’s file onto her desk and flipping it open. He nods.

“Yes, I just want to make an adjustment to the legal guardianship — for Christopher,” She nods for him to continue. “After last year, I changed it so my parents would be his legal guardians. I’d like to change it again.”

Stacy smiles softly at him again before pulling something up on her computer. She opens a drawer and retrieves some blank paperwork and sets it on her desk.

“And who will you be changing it to?”

“His name is Evan Buckley. He’s...my friend. Coworker, actually, but...he understands Chris better than they do. Or ever could, really.”

Stacy nods, writing Buck’s name down on the paper before setting the pen down, folding her hands together again, and studying Eddie.

“So, last year when we adjusted your will after your wife passed, I remember your parents being here with us,” She says, and it’s not unkind or pointed in any way, but her words still make Eddie shift in his chair, like he’s done something wrong.

“That’s right,” Eddie says, clearing his throat.

“And Mr. Buckley isn’t here with us today.”

“No,” Eddie says, picking at a loose strand in the hem of his jeans. “He’s working a shift today.”

“I see, are you sure you don’t want him to be present for this? It’s a big decision.”

Eddie blinks at her before shifting his eyes around the room.

“Does he need to be here?”

“No, not at all. We normally encourage both parties to be here, but I’m sure you’ve gotten his consent already, it’s just a formality, really,” Stacy smiles and turns back to her file, picking the pen up again, and opening her mouth to ask another question, when Eddie interrupts her.

“Do I need to have, um, written consent or something to do this? I don’t remember my parents having to sign anything.”

Stacy looks back up at Eddie. For a moment neither of them says anything. She slowly sets her pen back down.

“It’s not required, but it is recommended. This is a big decision, as I’m sure you’re aware. Trusting someone as your child’s legal guardian isn’t something to be taken lightly — especially when they’re not family.”

Eddie frowns — he’s not taking this lightly. It’s all he’s been able to think about for weeks. Every morning when he sits down with Christopher to have breakfast it’s a reminder that he almost lost this. Every time he comes home to Christopher after a long day of work there’s a sense of relief that he’s never felt before — he got to come home again. When he sees the drawings of Shannon that Christopher did that Eddie keeps locked in his nightstand — unable to throw them away, but definitely not keeping them anywhere where Chris could find them again — he remembers how close Chris came to losing another parent.

When he thinks about Chris being uprooted, ripped out of this life they built in California just to be dragged back to Texas, with parents like his who always think they know what’s best but never allow room for adjustments, with parents he knows will stifle him — it’s heartbreaking. He knows this is the right decision.

But Stacy doesn’t give him the opportunity to say all of that, and she continues to press, gently.

“You have had a conversation about this with him?” Eddie shrinks in his chair a bit.

“No, we haven’t — we haven’t talked about it. But, look, you don’t know Buck, okay? This isn’t,” He pauses, waving his hand while he tries to figure out what to say. “A couple of weeks ago, I was in an accident. It was pretty bad, and — I could’ve died. I was drowning and all I could think about was how I couldn’t leave Chris alone. And then, if I did die, how miserable he would be with my parents. I mean, you met them.”

Stacy doesn’t respond.

“Well, I was raised by them, so — I know what they’d be like, and I don’t want that for Christopher. Buck would do anything for Christopher. Already has. He’s...it’s him. I want him to be Christopher’s guardian, you know, if anything ever happens.”

Stacy nods and sits back in her chair.

“Eddie,” She starts, breaking formality. “Listen, I understand. This kind of thing happens more often than you’d think. There’s a kind of clarity that comes to people when they have a close encounter with death. I imagine it was especially clarifying for you, so soon after your wife’s death.”

She sits up again and studies Eddie carefully.

“I just want to make sure that you’re aware — if something happens and you haven’t told Mr. Buckley, he could refuse.”

Eddie shakes his head vehemently.

“No,” He says confidently. He looks at Stacy again, dead in the eye so that she knows he’s serious. “He wouldn’t do that. Believe me.”

“And if your family tries to fight it?” Eddie looks away then, and his eyes get a little distant. He smiles a small, private smile, before looking back at Stacy.

“They won’t ever fight as hard as him. Trust me.”

Stacy holds his gaze for a moment.

You learn a lot about people when you’re in her line of work — people come in all of the time and show her their hands, inadvertently pouring their hearts out, and revealing everything that’s most important to them as they sort out their estates. She’s seen plenty of people make weird, terrible, stupid, and callous decisions in the event of their death. She’s seen plenty of people come in after a close call and make hasty, half-baked decisions that she doesn’t have the power to counsel them against.

But, with her admittedly limited understanding of who Eddie Diaz is as a person, he’s not the kind of person who makes hasty, half-baked decisions, especially not when it comes to what he loves most — Christopher. They’ve only seen each other a few times: when Eddie first moved to LA and was altering his will, and when Shannon died. She’s seen him worn, tired, dragged down by grief. From what she sees, he’s a man who’s burdened by the need to do what's right for everyone else around him.

When he came in with his parents the year before, he had seemed small, and it had struck her. She remembered him from their first meeting as an army man with strong shoulders and a jaw set with stubborn determination — but then he just seemed like a child.

The man in front of her now is somewhere in between, softened by the home he’s clearly made for him and his son here. He’s still worn, a little shaken after his incident, still clearly grieving the loss of his wife, but the look in his eyes is strong and sure.

And as much as she would prefer that Mr. Buckley, or Buck, as Eddie keeps calling him, were here, she can clearly tell the difference in how Eddie feels about him versus his parents by the way he talks. He didn’t say much when his parents were in her office, just nodded along to what they said and made quiet, reserved comments to affirm their decisions. At the time, she wasn’t sure if it was the grief or their presence that was making him small — but she gets it now. Buck clearly understands Eddie in a way that few people have before.

She just hopes that Eddie talks to him about it soon — because the man does seem to be a kind of magnet for life-threatening situations, and she would really prefer not to have to break the news to a surprised, grief-stricken Evan Buckley herself. That’s her least favorite part of the job.

But she doesn’t press any further — Eddie’s made his case and Stacy’s certain she won’t be able to convince him to hold off any longer to at least talk to Buck, and they finish sorting out the paperwork.

Stacy sends Eddie off with the promise to get in touch with him when the changes to his will are finalized, and a gentle suggestion to talk with Buck soon.

He’s out the door feeling a dozen pounds lighter.

Eddie considers telling Buck after that, he really does. He understands that it’s probably something he should hear about sooner rather than later. But something holds him back, something makes him want to keep those cards close to his chest, and he’s not sure why.

He doesn’t tell anyone, not for a while. He really should tell his parents — and he will, eventually — but he’s not really looking forward to that particular conversation. He can already hear their arguments in his head, how Buck is in just as dangerous a profession as he is, how Buck is a stranger — not family, how he’s barely known this man for two years when they’ve known him his whole life — that one will make him laugh, he’s sure.

The first person he tells ends up being Carla.

It’s a few weeks later and he’s chatting with her on the phone, chopping up vegetables in the kitchen, helping prep dinner while Chris and Buck are playing games in the living room.

He’s been thinking about broaching the topic all night, now that he’s gotten a chance to be alone with Buck, but he feels a little anxious at the idea — even though he knows Buck won’t refuse. It just feels like a big thing that they probably won’t ever have to deal with — it’s not like he plans on dying.

But the idea is fresh in his mind, so it shouldn’t be that surprising when Carla asks him what’s new and he responds, “I changed my will.”

She doesn’t say anything for a second, and Eddie glances down at his phone to make sure the call didn’t get disconnected on accident.

“Oh?” Carla asks, clearly surprised. “What made you change it?”

“The well,” Eddie says, sliding some chopped carrots off the cutting board and into a bowl. He hears Carla hum in acknowledgment, then smiles as he hears Buck shout from the living room. Chris beat him, again. He’s alive, he’s okay.

“What exactly did you change?”

“Christopher’s legal guardianship...you know, if anything like that happens again and, uh, I don’t make it,” He tries to say this casually, but his throat starts to close up again at the end. He coughs.

“Who’d you change it to?” Carla asks, her voice soft. Eddie pauses, then steps away from the counter, peeking around the corner to check on Buck and Chris. The volume of their game is loud — too loud, really — but they’re engrossed in it, and Eddie’s comfortable with the thought that they can’t overhear his conversation. He walks back to his phone.

“Buck,” He admits quietly.

“Did you talk to him about this?” Carla asks, eventually, and it strikes Eddie how well she knows him. She doesn’t even sound surprised that he made Buck Christopher’s legal guardian.

When he doesn’t respond, he hears Carla sigh.

“Eddie, this is the kind of thing you should talk to him about. If something happens and he suddenly finds out from your lawyer—“

“He’s not gonna refuse,” Eddie says confidently.

“No, and I didn’t say that he would. It would just be fair to him to tell him before, God forbid, something happens to you and he has to hear it from a stranger instead of his best friend.”

“I’m not planning on dying any time soon, Carla,” Eddie says, and he wants to feel confident as he says it, wants it to come off light-hearted and joking, but he’s still terrified and his voice betrays him.

“I know you’re not, honey,” Carla says sympathetically. “But we both know that anything can happen to any one of us, any day. I know I don’t need to remind you of that.”

Eddie nods, even though Carla can’t see him, and continues chopping vegetables.

“It’s just,” Eddie pauses, working out his words. “I don’t — should I tell Christopher? Maybe he should know first.”

“How did you do it when you changed it with your parents last year?” Eddie shrugs.

“Wasn’t really my decision. They were here, they decided it should be them, they told Christopher, we went to my attorney and made it happen. This time...this time it was my choice. And I don’t really know what to do here.”

He lets out a shaky laugh and finds himself, surprisingly, wishing Shannon was here.

It’s one of those things that happens after you lose someone you love — you forget all of the bad parts of your relationship and start to miss the good. He wishes she was here right now, chopping vegetables, teasing him for being useless in the kitchen. He wishes he wasn’t having this conversation right now. He wishes he didn’t feel so old, so marked by death.

He hears Christopher’s victory shout from the living room again, and his heart races to latch onto it. As long as he has his kid, everything’s okay. He wouldn’t take anything back — not for this. Christopher’s happy now.

Then he hears Buck laughing good-naturedly, hears him lowering the volume, and then listens as Chris tries to wheedle another round out of him.

“Come on, buddy, it’s time for me to start dinner. I gotta make sure your dad doesn’t burn any of our dinner in there, or accidentally chop a finger off cutting vegetables. Let’s go get you washed up and then we can help him out, okay?”

Eddie doesn’t hear Christopher’s response, he imagines it was something like a groan and a not-so-subtle eye roll, but he registers the sound of the TV cutting off and Buck’s weight lifting up off the couch. A couple of seconds later and there’s the sound of running water in the bathroom down the hall, and Christopher giggling over the noise.

Everything’s okay.

“Look, Carla, I’m sorry to cut this short but — Buck’s here and he’s about to come help me out in the kitchen, so, I gotta—“

“Just breathe, Eddie. You’ll figure it out, okay? Just make sure you tell him soon.” Eddie hums, noncommittal, and he’s pretty sure he can hear the way Carla shakes her head fondly. “And give that boy a kiss for me, will you?”

“Christopher or Buck?” Eddie jokes before he can stop himself. He freezes, knife hovering mid chop. He hears the water in the bathroom shut off and starts to panic, for some reason he can’t explain. That’s a normal joke to make about your friend, right? Carla would totally kiss him if she was here.

“Whichever one you want,” Carla says after a while, quiet and knowing.

“Hey, is that Carla?” Buck asks as he enters the kitchen.

“Great, thanks Carla, bye,” Eddie rushes, flustered and scrambling to end the call. He turns back around to face Buck, who’s looking at him quizzically.

“I was just gonna say hi?” He says, tilting his head to the side. “Hey, are you okay?”

“Great,” Eddie says, unconvincingly. Buck raises an eyebrow. “Um, fine, just — not sure...how many...potatoes you need me to chop?”

Buck doesn’t take his eyes off Eddie. He studies him, eyes flicking over his face, mentally running through his memory to see if Eddie’s been off lately. And, well, he has — he almost died a couple of weeks ago.

Eddie’s caginess isn’t hard to read — but Buck’s gotten pretty good at knowing when’s the right time to push and when’s the right time to sit back and wait, let Eddie come to him. As much as he doesn’t like it, this is a sit back and wait kind of situation.

He regards Eddie one last time before stepping up to the counter next to him, his hand hovering behind Eddie’s back. Eddie really wants to know why that makes him nervous all of a sudden. They’re close to each other all the time, practically touching each other constantly, but right now proximity to Buck is making it hard to breathe. Buck’s only got a couple of inches on him but it feels like he’s towering over him. It’s making him a little dizzy.

“I’m pretty sure this is enough,” Buck says, sliding away from Eddie and pulling a tray out of the cabinet by the stove, blissfully unaware of the way Eddie’s heart is racing in his chest. “I told Christopher he could help so I figured he could season the vegetables? I’ll measure the spices out for him so we don’t end up eating pure salt like we did last time.”

He sends Eddie a wink as he says that and then turns around, pulling spices out of Eddie’s cabinets and grabbing these tiny bowls that Eddie didn’t even know he had. He’s stunned, watching Buck move around the kitchen with ease, like this isn’t the hundredth time Buck has been over to cook them dinner.

It feels a little like he stepped into some alternate reality, like everything is exactly as it should be but something’s just slightly off. Something’s shifted, but he’s not sure what.

When Christopher comes in moments later, Buck gets him set up at the table easily, letting him sit himself and setting his crutches to the side, placing the tray down in front of him with all of the spices in reach, and pointing out what each of them are and explaining how they flavor the food.

He drizzles the oil over the vegetables and then lets Chris go for it, dumping the bowls over the tray and then getting in there with him, using their hands to coat them all evenly. And that, of course, is Christopher’s favorite part. While Eddie’s still processing, the kitchen’s filled with the sounds of Christopher laughing and Buck laughing along with him, encouraging the way he tosses each vegetable around to cover it in spices.

Eddie stands at the counter, still stunned, but warm all over. This is the kind of thing that keeps him going, the kind of thing that keeps him fighting when things get hard. It’s the kind of thing that Eddie will tuck inside his heart as a precious memory that will come back to him in the future whenever things inevitably get dark again.

He doesn’t want to tell Buck about the guardianship yet. He’ll tell Christopher first, and then his parents, and then, whenever the moment’s right, then he’ll tell Buck.

He’s not in any kind of rush. Things are perfect right now, and he just wants to enjoy that for a little bit longer.

#al talks #buddie #911 fox #okay maybe i’ll slow down now that i got this out of my head fjskfj #my fic

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eclecticstarlightconnoisseur · 3 years

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EDINBURGH TO BOSTON - CHAPTER 21 - SECRETS AND TRUTHS

Hello all, Finally the new chapter of Edinburgh to Boston is ready.

As I said in my update this has not been betaed. Therefore, any mistakes. lack of continuity or general mess-ups are all mine. I hope you will forgive me and overlook them. It took some re-writing when I read it over several times and I hope I caught all the mistakes.

This has been my baby for a long time and honestly, I think that was another reason that took so long to finish it as this is the last chapter. There will be an epilogue to clean up some things that are hanging around.

Just because this is the last chapter, does not mean this is the end. I can't really let go of these two people. They are so dear to my heart. Besides that, as I wrote this I realized that I did not totally address the opening premise that I made. If you recall I said that Fate and Destiny had their hands in seeing these two come together. There are other stories to tell about how such forces brought them together. I do plan a Part II but how I will do it has yet to be planned out.

I can't thank you all enough for being patient with me during times of difficulty when it took so long to get a chapter posted. I am so honored that so many of you liked this story which I honestly thought was going to fall flat on its face. I never dreamed I would get the response to it that I did. I thank you all for reading, commenting, giving the story some love. I am truly overwhelmed by your kindness.

As always I need to thank my betas who helped me along the way and gave me the encouragement to continue when I didn't think I could do it. @scubalass you're the best.

Without further ado and a tear in my eye, I give you Chapter 21 Edinburgh to Boston.

Edinburgh to Boston

Chapter 21

Secrets and Truths

“Come On! Come On! COME ON!” Claire groused at the tardy lift. It really wouldn’t do to be late for surgery on her first day back to work. She wanted to give the damn thing a good kick but thought better of it since she would be standing for most of the day. The idea of standing on a sore foot did not appeal to her.

“Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ, what is taking this thing so long? For a new building, you would think they would have installed a better lift system.” Finally, the doors slid open on the fifth floor where the cardiothoracic surgery department offices were located.

She ran down the corridor trying to free herself from her coat while hanging onto the bag containing her morning fix.

Claire ran through the building’s front door shouting a greeting to Eddie, the security guard on duty. She made a beeline for the Cafe to get her morning coffee before going up to her office. It would be a long and trying day and the caffeine jolt would serve as her means of survival.

Niall stood behind the counter and grinned at her. “Late Dr. B?”

“Whatever made you think so?” she replied rather dryly. Her face was flushed and her hair exploded out from her wooly cap.

“Just a wild guess,” he smirked.

“Humph!” she snarled. “I would love to stand and chat with you but I have surgery in an hour. I’ll have a…”

“Here it is Dr. B. Large black coffee with one sugar and a raisin scone.” Niall smiled showing her the takeaway bag with her name on it.

She looked flustered, “How did you…”

“Dr. Fraser came by earlier. He ordered for you thinking you might be...um, in a hurry.”

“You say Dr. Fraser’s here already?” Claire grimaced ashamed of her lateness. It seemed, however, that curiosity got the better of her. Doing her best to look nonchalant, she casually asked, “Um, how did he look? Tired was he?” Dark smudges rimmed her eyes from lack of sleep. Claire would have liked nothing more than to curl up in bed and pull the covers over her head.

“Nay, no’ at all. Dr. Fraser said he worked out in the gym first then ran here. He looked quite hale and hearty actually. A wee bit pink from the cold, but truly well.”

“Of course, he did,” mumbling with annoyance to herself, “the man is made out of steel.”

Opening her overstuffed slouchy bag, she began the ritual of hunting for her wallet.

Cocking his head to the side, Niall pushed the bag toward Claire, “Oh, and he paid for this too.”

“Thank you, Niall and I’ll thank Fraser when I see him.”

Grabbing the bag, she made a mad dash toward her arch-enemy, the lift.

As usual, the ride to her floor became an act of slow torture and unmitigated agony. Once the lift doors opened, she sprinted down the corridor shaking one arm out of her coat while juggling her purse and the bag with its precious contents in the other hand. As she arrived outside her office door, her other arm managed to jiggle out of its sleeve. Finding the key to her office would require a balancing act considering the disordered state of her handbag. Placing her coat between her teeth and the bag containing her coffee and scone between her knees, not the soundest of ideas mind, she rummaged inside her handbag. Of course, the key could not be found being buried in the deep recesses of the purse. Needing a little extra stability, Claire leaned against the doorway. The door swung open making her lose balance and stumble into the room. Her mouth opened, squawking in surprise causing the coat to drop to the floor. Flailing hands pinwheeled around trying to maintain equilibrium rather than land ignominiously on her arse. She managed to keep her footing but lost the grip on her purse and watched as the contents tumbled out spilling haphazardly around the room. By some miracle, the sack with the coffee and scone remained intact. Not a drop of the rejuvenating liquid spilled. Which, of course, was the most important thing.

Surveying the mess she had inadvertently created, Claire concluded it was going to be one of those days. No doubt about it. And to make matters worse, she would have to operate without Fraser. Not to have his strong capable hands there moving in concert with hers, well the thought just soured her stomach. Of course, Pound would be there to help, but he was still in training even if he was Chief Fellow and she would still have to monitor him.

Mumbling words that a lady should not use, Claire picked up her coat and tossed it on a chair. On her hands and knees, she crawled around picking up the scattered bits and bobs shoving them back in the purse.

Standing, she walked toward her desk and saw it. In the middle of the desk stood a small beautifully cut crystal vase filled with forget-me-nots, white heather, and baby’s breath. A handwritten card placed in front of the flowers was written in a distinctive script declaring, Tha gaol agam ort, J. Claire could not read Gàidhlig but she instinctively knew what it meant. Her eyes misted over as she touched the delicate blooms.

How do you do it, Jamie Fraser? You take a terrible day and turn it into something magical.

Claire put on her lab coat, grabbed the bag with her coffee and scone, and walked out closing the door behind her. She strolled toward her nemesis, the lift, smiling and humming happily.

****************

“Aye, that’s right. See how Dr. Beauchamp keeps her field clear. It gives ye an unobstructed view and prevents postoperative infection.” Jamie turned to look at his students and they all dutifully nodded in appreciation.

“Watch how Dr. Beauchamp creates the anastomosis. Then she’ll tie it off. See how she makes her knots! ‘Tis a thing of beauty, is it no’? Perfect technique!” Jamie praised. Peering at his beloved, he saw her eyes crinkle with pleasure and her cheeks blazed red above her mask.

He came alive while he watched her work. As a surgeon, she was smart, talented, and highly sought after. Not only because of her skill but because she deeply cared about her patients. Some colleagues thought her “too involved” or believed her gender would make her“too soft” to become a competent cardiothoracic surgeon. Other critics thought her involvement with her patients would undermine her professionalism.

They had made love. Legs twined together; her head rested on his shoulder while his arm curled around her protectively. Jamie turned on to his side just enough to allow him to see her nakedness gilded by the moonlight. She curled into him clinging to him like a limpet anchored to a rock. Her muscles tense where normally she lay in his arms boneless after their intimacy. Finding a particularly tight knot he massaged it and felt it go slack.

“Is something wrong, my own? Did I no’ please you?” he asked anxiously.

“No, you were wonderful, really, Jamie. It’s just me. I started thinking. I don’t know why. But it’s nothing at all truly. I’m fine, just fine.��

“Sassenach, I ken well enough what ‘I’m fine means. Why dinna ye tell me what’s upsetting ye.” Jamie pulled her closer, tucking Claire’s head under his chin.

“We need to go back soon,” she said in a voice so low as to be almost inaudible. “And I’m so happy here with you,” she looked up into those startling blue eyes. “Then I started thinking about what it took for me to get this far in my career. My residency. My Fellowship. And suddenly I wondered if it was all worth it. I wondered if they were right in the end.”

“Who was right, Sassenach?”

Heaving a heavy sigh, Claire shared her trials as a cardiothoracic fellow. The competition for the position had been fierce. Only the top five candidates were called back to interview for the one open position. Even though she was highly ranked among the candidates for the fellowship, her prospective mentors suggested that perhaps she would be more suited to pediatrics, dermatology, or aesthetics as one of those specialties might suit her female sensibilities better. They had suggested cardiothoracic surgery might be too rigorous for a woman. The hours too demanding for a married woman. What would her husband say? Wouldn’t she like to have a family someday?

“The only qualification I didn’t have was I didn’t have a prick,” she said with some bitterness. She never expected an easy time. A distinct amount of sexism existed in medicine and women were not welcomed with open arms. She worked the worst schedule and given the most complex cases. Evaluations were harsh and judgmental. All done in the hopes that she would quit. Instead, it just made her work harder. And she turned a blind eye and a deaf ear to the mockery heaped on her. Claire succeeded where many others failed. She became their first female Chief Fellow; won several prestigious awards for her research. More importantly to Claire, her patients thrived.

“I am beginning to think they were right about some things. There is so much more to life. Much, much more,” she said drowsily. “And I want to have it. All.” Yawning, her eyes fluttered closed, and fell into a contented sleep.

“Aye, mo nighean donn, ye will. I’ll see tae it,” and leaned over kissing her brow.

Truly Claire is a woman of rare spirit, he thought. A woman who overcame many challenges and obstacles from an early age and was better for it. After all, she survived a plane crash that claimed the lives of her parents, lived like a vagabond with her archeologist uncle, and prevailed over a nightmare marriage. Many people would have been crushed under such hardships. But not his Sassenach; she endured. She managed to overcome them and emerge victoriously. A woman of rare spirit indeed. And one who deserved to be loved and loved well.

Jamie’s narrative kept pace with Claire’s every movement. Occasionally, he fired off questions at various intervals to his followers which they answered to his satisfaction. They remained throughout the entire procedure until skin closure finished and the patient made ready for transfer to the CSICU.

“Dr. Pound will accompany the patient to their room and start to write the postoperative orders. Please go with him. I will meet you over there.”

“Dr. Beauchamp, a word if ye please about yer next case,” called Jamie.

“Of course, Dr. Fraser. I would be delighted.”

The doctors exited the operating room on the pretext of being nothing more than two colleagues engaged in a discussion about a patient scheduled for surgery that afternoon. They approached an out-of-the-way corridor between the OR and the CSICU stealing down the passageway like two thieves in the night. Jamie’s head spun around looking for anyone who might have observed them. Deciding that they had not been seen, he seized her hand and pulled her into a little-used utility room. He locked the door behind them and drew her close, kissing her thoroughly.

“I missed ye.”

Claire cuddled into him resting her head on his chest. “I missed you too.”

Lifting her arms, she wrapped them around his neck. “Come here,” she whispered as she tugged his head down toward her.

Claire kissed him once, then twice.

“No’ that I’m complaining but what’s that for?”

“One was for the coffee, the other was for the scone. This one,” her voice turned provocative, “is for the flowers.” Her mouth latched onto his giving him a proper thank you kiss. The kiss, a searing flame, igniting them like a match to dry kindling. It left them both breathless and wanting for more.

She pressed firmly against him. He could feel her nipples rigid and taut through the thin scrub top. He knew she felt him; his hardness pressed against her body. If only I were home with her I’d carry her off to bed. This thought, naturally, made things much worse for him.

“How did you manage it?” she asked, her voice a sultry husky tone.

“Ewan gets the credit.”

“Be sure to thank him for me.” Claire crushed her body closer to his taking in his warmth. She buried he nose against him absorbing his smell. His scent was masculine, with the tang of antiseptic and just a dash of laundry starch hovering around him. Some things completely stirred her soul.

Clearing his throat, Jamie asked in a shaky voice, “Will ye, ah, will ye… Christ Claire, I canna think with ye so close tae me. Will ye take yer lunch with me?”

“Yes,” she said breathily.

“Why don’t ye go dictate yer op notes while on check on Pound? I’ll meet ye in about thirty minutes.”

“That’s a fine idea,” she leaned forward giving him a quick kiss. “Don’t be late.”

Jamie opened the door enough to peek out and found the corridor remained empty.

“Ye go first, I’ll follow after ye shortly.”

Claire slipped through the door while Jamie watched as she left. He noticed a little extra sway to her hips as she walked away. Damn little vixen. She did it on purpose. Sighing, he closed the door and leaned his head against it. He would have a wait a minute or two until his “problem” disappeared. It was becoming truly uncomfortable as he sought to adjust himself. “She’ll be the death of me yet.”

***********************

Walking into the CSICU after completing a successful surgery always filled Jamie with a certain satisfaction. He felt overjoyed that he and Claire helped patients return to their life, their work, their family, and without pain. He would tell patients, when he first met them, that this surgery was “enabling”. It would enable them to return to the life they wanted and not become a bystander.

With that thought in mind and a large grin on his face, Jamie swiped his badge across the electronic keypad granting him entrance into the Unit. The sounds of controlled chaos greeted him, voices raised, ventilators whooshing delivering needed oxygen, the soft beeping of heart monitors keeping time with healing hearts, IV pumps clicking as they delivered medication critical to the patient’s recovery.

He walked briskly toward the nurses’ station with gladness in his heart for he was back where he belonged.

“Fiona, ‘tis good tae see ye. How have ye been?” he inquired of the Unit’s charge nurse.

With the sound of his voice all conversation, all activity ceased, and every eye fastened onto him. The silence in the room would have been deafening if not for the continued mechanical sounds. Jamie became keenly aware of the absence of sound and the staff rooted in position. And just as quickly as it started it ended with activity resuming at its normal pace.

Fiona MacGowen kept her eyes glued to her computer screen, deliberately not making direct eye contact with the doctor. “Oh just braw, Dr. Fraser, just braw. Dr. Beauchamp’s patient is in Room 10 with Dr. Pound, Elspeth, and Iona getting him settled,” she said with her lips slightly turning up in a smile. “They’ll be waiting on ye.”

“Thank ye, Fiona. I’ll go and see how they are getting along.”

Jamie walked away, stopped, and turned back to look at Fiona once more. He thought her behavior a bit strange. Generally, one would say Fiona was a gregarious person with the reputation of being a chatterbox. Today, however, she acted more like a nun under a vow of silence. But to be honest, as he gazed around the Unit once more, everyone’s behavior seemed strange. And he had yet figured out what to make of it.

As Jamie approached the room the sounds of busyness gave the impression of a beehive humming with activity. As he stepped into the entryway, activity ceased. Again, all that remained was the soft mechanical sounds made by the life-sustaining equipment.

Elspeth stood quite still and uttered a little gasp. Meanwhile, Iona took a step back bumping into the ventilator; her eyes round with surprise. Dr. Pound cleared his throat glaring at the two nurses. They resumed their usual pleasant expressions with lips curling up into crooked smiles.

Jamie looked at the three of them thinking his team had gone daft.

“‘Tis good to have ye back Dr. Fraser,” declared the Fellow. “The ladies and I were just finishing getting Mr. MacNichol set up.”

Pound grabbed one of the portable workstations and began reviewing the patient’s current vitals as well as the orders he had written with the surgeon. They discussed the ventilator’s and pacemaker’s current settings, and when to call Dr. Beauchamp with any changes to her patient.

“Well-done, well-done. Mr. MacNichol is in very capable hands,” he smiled at his team. “I am off to lunch. Ye ken how to reach Dr. Beauchamp or me.”

Jamie walked out of the room and on impulse turned back to see the three heads buried in whispered conversation. He shook his head and left thinking about having lunch with Claire wanting to discuss the staff’s strange behavior with her.

Preoccupied with his thoughts, Jamie walked smack into his cousin Rupert almost knocking him down. Extending his arm quickly he caught his cousin by the shoulder steadying him.

“Sorry about that Rup. Doing a bit of wool-gathering I suppose.”

“Oy must be something awfully important to have ye so distracted.”

“I promised Claire I would have lunch with her and I dinna want tae be late.”

“Tae tell ye the truth, I am on my way tae find Geillis. We’re supposed to have a bite together too. Suppose ye two join us, aye?” He grinned broadly, “Twill be interesting to see if the plan

succeeded.”

“Sounds like a good idea cuz,” Jamie clapped an arm around Rupert’s shoulder as they strode off in search of the lasses.

************************************

Seated at one of the dictation corrals, Claire began her op notes. Her cardiac anesthesiologist, Geillis Duncan took the hutch next to her.

Dr. Duncan was a beautiful woman, with a trim figure, flaming red hair, and eyes as green as spring grass.

“Claire, ‘tis good tae have ye back. I’m sorry I dinna have much of a chance tae speak with ye this morning before the case. Did ye enjoy the conference?” Dr. Duncan gave Claire a sly side-long look.

“Wouldn’t you know it, Boston had a blizzard and the speakers weren’t able to make it.”

“No. What a shame. Ye flew all that way for nothing,” she sympathized.

“Too bad, right? Dr. Fraser and I were looking forward to hearing about those peripherally inserted heart valves.”

“Aye, but ye had the fox cub with ye. Perhaps it wasna so bad after all,” she leaned over jabbing Claire in the side. “Did ye maybe get tae share a room and have a go at him between the sheets, um?” She gave Claire a wicked smile. “I ken if I was snowed in with him, I would.

“Geillis!” Claire swore. She blushed from her hair roots to her toes.

Geillis gave her a sly smug smile. “After all, Georges X is an exclusive luxury hotel. Verra private, and verra, verra discrete. Or so I’ve heard,” she said shrugging her shoulders. “They have those flowers, all over the place. What are they? Orchids? she asked while tapping her nail against her white teeth feigning an attempt at recalling. I understand the lobby is decorated with a fortune in artwork. The rooms are quite grand, are they no’, with a fireplace, champagne, chocolate-dipped strawberries, fine whiskey. And I hear the bed is big enough to sleep an entire family. How could ye no’ entice him into yer bed, is what I want tae know?”

Claire glared at her friend, “What I want to know is how you know I stayed at Georges X. I know I never told you.”

Geillis chuckled nervously, “Why of course ye did. How else would I ken that?” Geillis became uncomfortable under Claire’s scrutiny.

“Spill it, Duncan. You know more than you’re telling.”

Geillis affected a look of innocence, “I swear tae ye Claire, I dinna ken anything.” She nervously scanned the area looking for any means of escape from further questioning. Her eyes latched on to Dr. Rupert MacKenzie ambling directly toward her, along with Jamie. “I need tae go. I promised tae meet Rupert for lunch. See ye later, Claire.”

Reaching out, Claire grasped Geillis by the forearm, “That’s a load of rubbish and you know it. I suspected there was something dodgy about that trip right from the beginning. I need answers and you have them, Duncan. You’re coming with me.”

************************************

The two male surgeons walked amicably through the corridor talking and laughing as Rupert entertained Jamie with tales of hospital gossip. As they approached the physician workstation, they noticed a loud commotion that seemed to be attracting a crowd. Jamie wondered what caused the kerfuffle this time. Most such squabbles centered around obtaining a certain OR room or available time for surgery. This behavior bordered on the ridiculous in his opinion.

As the men came closer to the center of the fray, they saw two female doctors engaged in a struggle. One of them had wild brown curls bouncing around her head. Claire? The second doctor had hair the color of flame. That head of hair belonged to the fiery Geillis Duncan. He quickened his pace needing to reach Claire.

“Claire! Claire,” he called, “What’s amiss?”

“‘Claire’ he calls her now. No’ Dr. Beauchamp,” Geillis snorted.

Claire’s posture had all the hallmarks of frustration and anger as she tried to drag her colleague toward the doctor’s lounge.

Claire’s eyes locked on Jamie, “It seems that Dr. Duncan knows a great deal about our trip. Particularly where we stayed and I want to know how.”

Rupert took Geillis firmly by the elbow and leaned over to hotly whisper in her ear, “Wha’ have ye done woman!?”

Cold green eyes glared fixedly up at him disliking his insinuation. “I may have spilled a bit of tea is all,” she said, wrenching her arm free of his grip.

“Sounds more like ye spilled the whole damn pot,” he growled at her. “Ye ken they were never supposed to find out, at least no’ this way. We were supposed to tell them gentle like. Now what?”

Dr. Duncan gave her shoulders the tiniest of shrugs. “Dinna fash. We’ll think of something,” and walked toward the lounge.

He squeezed his eyes shut and gritted his teeth, “Aye, that’s what I’m afraid of.”

Rupert held the lounge door open for his co-conspirator trying to usher her quietly into the room. Geillis, however, turned to observe Jamie and Claire huddled deep in discussion.

“Are ye both going to stand there all day blethering, or are ye coming? I’m hungry and I want my lunch.” she snapped.

The crowd lingered about waiting for the fuse to be lit and the fireworks to begin. Dr. Duncan had a very volatile reputation easily flying into pieces like an unstable explosive device. Whereas, Dr. Beauchamp was a genial person, kind and caring. But, the one thing she was not was a meek individual. When pushed beyond her tolerance limits, she could be as ruthless as a she-wolf defending her pups.

Jamie placed his hand firmly on the small of Claire’s back giving her a little nudge forward. The crowd began to murmur heads close in a whispered discussion, Some rudely pointed a finger at his hand on her back, while others outright stared. Jamie flushed. He should have known such an intimate placement of his hand would draw attention. They saw he claimed her. Not knowing how Claire would feel about this public display, he thought he needed to break up this crowd before someone accidentally said something.

“Show’s over everyone. Just a private meeting among friends. Nothing tae see here. I’m sure ye all have some work tae do. Patients are waiting for ye. Go on with ye.” Jamie said dismissing the loitering group.

Following behind Claire, Jamie entered the room and shut the door.

Claire wanted to get to the bottom of things quickly and stormed up to her colleague in a blazing fury. “Alright Duncan, spill what you know.”

“I already told ye. I dinna ken anything about ye trip. As I said either you or Jamie must have mentioned where ye were staying. Beyond that, I dinna ken anything.”

Jamie looked at Claire and shook his head signifying that he had never mentioned the hotel to anyone.

“Um-hm. Since when does this institution send a chauffeured car to pick up two staff surgeons? For the Chief certainly but not for ordinary staff personnel. And we’re supposed to believe that the hospital made five-star accommodations with all expenses paid for us? Hmm? I think not. Did I not say so, Jamie?”

“Aye, ye did. Several times.”

“Claire began to pace while considering the other strange occurrences surrounding their trip.

“And what about my clothes? I most certainly did not pack away that nightgown. It was a mere scrap of silk and lace. And that lingerie! Those panties and bras were not something I would have packed for a conference trip.”

“I’ll bet he enjoyed it,” Geillis muttered under her breath a sly grin curling up on her lips lighting up her face.

Jamie leaned forward, his eyes narrowing, staring intensely at the female doctor, “I am inclined tae agree with Dr. Beauchamp that the circumstances surrounding our trip tae Boston were, tae say the least, most unusual. I also had clothes in my suitcase that I ken I dinna pack and I’m wondering how they got there. Can ye shed any light on this mystery?”

As Jamie questioned Geillis, an acrid odor caught Claire’s attention. Being a very astute doctor, she was used to the various malodors emitted by humans and knew what they meant. She raised her nose into the air and sniffed delicately. The pungent smell seemed to be coming from the direction of Rupert. A light sheen of sweat glossed over his forehead and there was a distinctive musky odor about him. Fear. Anxiety. Her intense scrutiny seemed to worsen whatever internal conflict plaguing him. Unable to withstand the intensity of her stare, Rupert turned away not wanting to meet her eyes.

Claire jabbed Jamie in his side with her elbow gaining his attention.

“I think Rupert has something to add to this conversation.”

Jamie walked over to his cousin and stared at him intently. Rupert took a few steps back, feeling the unconscious need to put some distance between them.

“Aye, I think yer right. Rupert, ye look like ye have something ye’d like tae get off yer chest. Out with it man.”

Deciding that the best defense is a good offense, Rupert widened his stance and crossed his arms over his chest.

“I dinna ken what yer talking about Jamie lad. As the lady said, I dinna ken anything about yer trip either. And dinna ask if I ken anything about how yer jeans, duck boots, and down jacket got into yer suitcase,” he replied, a self-satisfied look plastered across his face.

“Ye great dunderheid! Do ye ken what ye said?! Ye just gave it away,” Geillis shouted giving him a slap upside his head. “And ye were worried about what I said.”

“Wha’ are ye talking ab…” He had that startled look that one has when they realize they stuck their foot in their mouth. “Oh! Oh, shite.”

“Ye just admitted that ye changed Jamie’s clothes in his suitcase.”

“Dinna blame me for everything. You changed Claire’s clothes,” Rupert countered.

The two combatants escalated the argument going at each other nose to nose, eyeball to eyeball, tooth, fang, and claw.

“And whose ideas was this? Mine. Who made the hotel arrangements and spoke tae Joe Silverberg in Texas to get him on board with the plan should one of them call to discuss the meeting?” Geillis boasted as she swung her hair over her shoulder. A dreamy look took over her as she recalled the conversation with Dr. Silverberg. “I invited him to come to Scotland, ye ken. Told him I would show him the sights and a good time. Said he may take me up on that too.”

“Mmphm, so ye did,” Rupert grumbled with annoyance. He did not like the suggestion of Geillis showing the American surgeon a good time. “Ye forget I made the plane arrangements and got Kenny to print up the fake conference brochure. And who enlisted their secretary’s help to slip the vacation request under the Chief’s nose and have him sign it? Cost me a night out as payment for that,” Rupert griped.

The two doctors continued in their game of one-up-manship, oblivious to Jamie and Claire standing in the room.

Unable to take the bickering anymore, Jamie bellowed, “Haud yer weesht!!!”

Geillis and Rupert looked up in bewilderment having forgotten where they were and that Jamie and Claire stood listening.

“Do ye two realize that what ye did invaded our privacy? That ye had no right to interfere in our lives?” Jamie growled.

“So, that’s it then? The whole thing was a setup, some sort of game? None of this was real? ” Claire said as she looked at Jamie.

“I beg tae differ, hen,” Gellis walked over her expression softening and gently took hold of Claire’s hand, “it’s as real as it can get. We all saw the lovesick eyes, the secret peeks ye two gave each other, and the way ye fuss over each other. If two people were meant to be together it’s ye two. We just nudged things along is all, ” said Geillis.

“Aye, yer right,” Rupert chimed in. “‘Tis the truth that NO one could take watching ye two anymore. The whole hospital wanted tae see ye together.” Rupert smiled at Claire. He quickly turned his vexation on his cousin. “And if Fraser here was no’ going tae be a man about it and make the first move, well by God someone had tae,” he snarled at Jamie. “What are ye then, cuz, a man or a moose?”

Jamie ran his hand through his hair and rolled his shoulders as if trying to loosen his shirt that had suddenly become too tight. A shy crooked smile flashed over his face; his lip curling up on one side.

“Aye, yer right. I, ah, I… Well, tae tell the truth, I am a bit of a coward. Ye ken, I dinna think um, I dinna know if Claire felt the same about me.” Jamie turned and looked deeply in Claire’s eyes, “I was afraid tae lose ye. If being yer friend would be the best of it, then that would have been enough.”

“I was afraid of losing you too, Jamie. I’ve had feelings for you right from the start. Only now do I dare to admit them,” Claire turned toward Rupert and Geillis giving them a look of gratitude. Moving closer, placing her hands on his chest. “I love you and I always will.” Her arms went up around his neck, standing on tiptoe, she leaned in, and kissed him soundly.

The kiss finally ended, each blushing from making a display of themselves.

Geillis stood there making gagging noises as she watched their affection. Rupert looked at Geillis with a smirk on his face.

“What’s the matter, lass, jealous?” Rupert said with a grin on his face.

“Certainly not,” Geillis waved off that idea with a flip of her hand and turned away.

“Well then, ye won't be minding this. I've wanted tae do this for a long time.” Rupert turned her around, took her in his arms, and kissed her.

“And I dinna want tae hear about ye showing any other men a good time, either.” He gave her a look that told her he would not brook no for an answer.

Geillis, looking dazed readily agreed.

Jamie coughed loudly, reminding the other couple they were not alone.

Wrapping his arm around Claire and pulling her into his side, Jamie smiled at their friends, “We want to thank ye, both, for bringing us together. We are truly grateful.”

Claire nodded in agreement, forgetting about her anger with the unorthodox methods they used to bring her the love of her life.

“Since we are all telling the truth,” Rupert reluctantly admitted, “there’s a wee bit more to it.” “We were not the only ones involved in this. When other staff members heard what we about they wanted tae be part of it. And so...”

“And so everyone began to contribute money tae help pay for the trip. So that’s how ye had such fine accommodations and such.” Geillis huffed, “We told ye that people could no longer stand tae look at ye. They wanted ye two as a couple, no’ apart. Now can we stop havering about and get some lunch? My wame is empty. Besides, everyone is waiting in the canteen tae see ye both.”

“Oh, God,” Claire groaned as she grew red and buried her face in Jamie’s chest.

Jamie chuckled and rubbed her back in long soothing strokes.

“Are ye ready then, Sassenach? Let’s go give these good people their money’s worth,” he grinned.

“Yes. We should thank them all, don’t you think?” Claire replied, running her fingers through her hair trying to tame her wayward curls.

“Ye look fine, lass,” he bent to kiss her gently on the cheek and took hold of her hand.

Rupert and Geillis led the way, laughing and talking. Claire and Jamie walked behind them holding hands. Nerves were getting the best of her and her hands became sweaty. She surreptitiously wiped her free hand on the scrub pant leg.

“Dinna fash. Ye’ve faced worse and ye’ll no’ be doing this alone. We’ll face them as one.”

One.

ONE, he said. But. What did that exactly mean?

“What do you mean by that? Being one?” She held her breath waiting for an answer.

Jamie frowned, crease lines set upon his forehead.

“It’s like I’ve kent ye my whole life, even before that, if that’s possible. I mean yer part of me. I ken that sounds crazy, but I…”

“I know what you mean, Jamie. I feel the same way too. It’s hard to explain, but it’s there.”

“Aye, lass, it’s most definitely there.”

Approaching the canteen seemed a surreal experience. Normally, one would call the dining hall a lively place, with the sounds of laughter, chatter, mixed with the scrape of dinnerware against plates. Today seemed different. A thrum of excitement and perhaps expectation filled the air as if waiting for something to happen. As Jamie and Claire approached the door a steady vibration emanated from its core.

Geillis waved them back signaling she and Rupert would enter first. Rupert lifted his hand spreading his fingers indicating they should wait five minutes before entering. Jamie nodded and Rupert and Geillis entered the dining room.

Jamie and Claire waited in companionable silence. Who would think that five minutes could feel like an eternity? But it did.

Jamie looked at his watch; it was time.

“Are ye ready, Sassenach?”

“Je suis prest,” she acknowledged.

Their fingers reached out seeking their mate bonded the two hearts and souls into one. Turning they gave each other a nod and walked through the door only to meet with absolute silence.

All eyes turned upon them and it became unnerving. Claire inched closer to Jamie, if that was even possible, drawing on his strength.

Then the cheers began along with the whistles and applause. Someone from the back of the room called out, “It’s about time, Fraser.”

“Och why don’t ye just give us a bit of peace, aye?” came his laughing response.

They were rushed by a mob of well-wishers. Men clapped Jamie on the back wishing him well. Others made jokes, at his expense, about his manliness for taking so long.

The women embraced Claire telling her how happy they were for her. Some gave her sly looks while others made off-color jokes causing her to blush.

Eventually, people began to amble back to their tables and lunch, and the couple discovered themselves alone. Finding a table in an out-of-the-way corner, they sat to eat.

“I guess we are out as a couple officially. It’s no’ how I would have wished it tae become common knowledge, but…” Jamie shrugged. “They are good people and they meant well.”

Claire nodded in agreement as she moved her salad around on the plate not eating.

“It’s a strange feeling. Knowing that someone orchestrated this relationship. I know how this will sound, but I feel like this happened to me, to us before.”

Claire looked up at Jamie, eyes pleading for understanding.

“Forget what I said, it’s silly.” She stabbed a particularly tender piece of lettuce and ate it.

“Nay Sassenach, it’s no’ silly at all. I feel it too. It’s as if I am drawn to ye as if I kent ye from another lifetime. Like we were meant to be together, bonded if ye like.”

“That’s it, exactly.” Claire looked at him with a sense of relief. Looking up, she noticed the clock on the wall, reading 12:55 PM.

“Damn, we have to go. We’ll barely make it in time for Dr. de Gascogne’s appointment for your hand.”

Jamie muttered something in Gàidhlig which Claire really didn’t want a translation of.

“I dinna ken why everyone is making such a fuss over my hand. It doesna hurt and it will heal in a few more weeks.”

Claire blew out a breath of exasperation, “You know very well why Dr. Fraser. Your one of the best cardiac surgeons in all of Scotland. Well, next to me you are,” she said teasingly. Besides, the hospital needs you, your patients need you but most of all I need you. So that’s why.”

“I ken, but I dinna like being fussed over.”

“Yes, I know; you’re a doctor and doctors make terrible patients. You think you’re supposed to do the healing and don’t like when you need help,” Claire said with a raised eyebrow. “Now, let’s get your hand attended to, shall we?”

They hurried through the corridors, making it to the appointment with seconds to spare. Jamie was whisked off for X-Rays then he and Claire were escorted to an exam room. He sat on the examination bed while Claire took the chair next to him awaiting Dr. de Gascogne’s appearance.

Jamie studiously inspected an anatomical chart of the hand and wrist hanging on the wall in the room.

“Ye said ye need me,” he said almost inaudibly. “Do ye mean as yer surgical partner or as something more?

Claire noticed him drumming his fingers on his thigh anxiously.

“I need you, Jamie, in every sense of the word. As my partner, my friend, my lover, my everything. I. Need. You.” Claire stood and walked over to him. She wrapped her arms around his neck pressing her forehead to his.

“Aye, weel I wanted to make sure, is all. Yer the prettiest lass in the hospital. Any man would want tae be with ye,” and gave her a shy smile.

“Jamie Fraser, you say the most…” There was a knock on the door, the knob turned and Dr. de Gascogne entered the room finding the lovers locked in an embrace.

She looked at the two, raised an eyebrow at Jamie’s hands on Claire’s hips, “Un jour, quelqu'un entrera dans votre vie et vous fera comprendre pourquoi cela n'a jamais fonctionné avec quelqu'un d'autre, mes chers. Et il semble que vous ayez. I believe congratulations are in order. My secretary tells me you have announced that you are a couple. You two made quite a stir in the dining hall?”

Claire jumped away returning to her seat cheeks and nose bright red. While Jamie’s ears went pink.

“Well, um, ah, yes. Thank you. I believe that we made quite a spectacle of ourselves and continue to do so, it seems,” Claire replied mortified having been caught.

“Ah, mon chéri never be ashamed to show that you are in love. We are born of love and seek out love. Many have sacrificed greatly for love even died for it. It truly is a treasure to enjoy. No?” Dr. de Gascogne said with a smile. “Now to business.”

Dr. de Gascogne opened the electronic medical record and began her inquiry. Jamie explained how he injured his hand - twice - causing Dr. de Gascogne to raise her eyebrows in total disbelief.

She reviewed the X-Rays; then removed the splints. She moved and wiggled the fingers finding them healing well and moving to her satisfaction. The splints were replaced and Jamie was dismissed with a caution not to hit any more people or trees. She instructed him to see her again in one month for a further follow-up.

The two surgeons graciously thanked Dr. de Gascogne for her time and casually left the examination room. As soon as they could not be seen, they bolted toward the operating suites as quickly as they could eager to leave behind another awkward situation.

The remainder of the afternoon went on as planned. Claire completed her second surgical procedure without incident. Jamie’s students doggedly followed him from place to place. Finally, the day came to an end. The surgeons tiredly returned to their offices, checked in for urgent messages and for their schedule for the next day. Each too exhausted to do much of anything else, except want the comfort of a bed, chose to go home. It was a short walk to Claire’s flat from the hospital and Jamie escorted her home. He wrapped his arm around her waist and she leaned into him. They spoke of this and that sharing different events of their day. Arriving at Claire’s flat, they walked up the stairs toward the front door. Jamie stood one step lower than Claire allowing them to be of an equal height.

A wave of fatigue washed over her, but Claire did not want Jamie to leave despite her tiredness.

“Would you like to come up? I have some soup in the fridge. Mrs. Bug made it. She’s quite the cook. Won’t take more than a moment to heat up. Or maybe a glass of wine or a dram? To help unwind?” she said looking at him hopefully.

He unzipped both their jackets and pulled her into the depth of his wrapping the jacket around her. He wanted her close to him and to share his warmth with her.

“Mo chridhe, yer completely knackered and ye need yer rest. If I come up with ye, ye ken neither of us will get any sleep,” he said pressing himself against her his desire completely apparent. “It’s no’ that I dinna want tae, but it wouldna do tae have ye fall asleep tomorrow during yer procedures.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve worked with little sleep, just like you have, during residency and fellowship,” she pouted.

“Aye, but ye need to set an example for the students and fellows. And what about yer patients? They need Dr. Beauchamp at her best. They’re counting on ye.”

Claire luxuriated in the radiant heat of his body and the knowledge that he wanted her as much as she wanted him. But, she still did not want him to leave. For to be alone with Jamie was bliss but to be alone was, well, to be alone. She racked her fatigued brain for anything that would keep Jamie with her. She blurted out the first thing that came to mind, “I love you.”

“I ken ye do, mo nighean donn. I feel it every time ye touch me,” Jamie took her hand tenderly placing a kiss on her palm. Gently, he folded her fingers over to seal his kiss against her skin. “And when ye kiss me,” he brushed his lips over hers. “Most of all, when ye lie with me. I ken the truth of it in our lovemaking,” he pulled her even closer to him until no space existed between their bodies. “Woman, ye’re like a live wire. Yer body fairly pulses with yer love and it flows out from you into me. It’s no’ just lust between us. ‘Tis love that brought us together and binds our souls. ‘Tis a thing that I never knew I wanted or needed until I found ye,” his hand moved to cup her face.

“It’s the same for me. I never knew it could be like this. Especially, after Frank. I thought all relationships would end up like that one. I see how foolish I had been to keep myself closed. To close my heart from love. If not for this trip, this may have never happened. We may have never happened.”

“Mo leannan, I would have found ye somehow. Whether I found ye now or even if I had to wait two hundred years to find ye, I’d find ye. We are meant to be together. I ken it.” His forehead pressed to hers each inhaling the other’s breath.

It began to rain lightly; a mizzle he had once called it. Tiny droplets of water clung to his hair. In the light of the streetlamp, his hair looked like a ruby adorned with sparkling diamonds.

They stood locked in an embrace for several moments; neither truly wanting to part from the other.

“Sassenach,” he whispered into her ear, “go on up. Ye need yer rest. Yer poor wee eyes are closing and there are dark smudges around them. Go on then. I’ll see ye tomorrow.”

He kissed her on the forehead and she nodded her head in agreement. Claire walked up the last two steps and slid the key into the lock of the front door. She turned to watch Jamie as he disappeared into the night walking toward his home and it occurred to her that this was just the beginning of their life and of their story.

The End - Part I

Tha gaol agam ort: I love you. (As if you didn’t know already.)

Anastomosis: An anastomosis is a surgical connection between two structures. It usually means a connection that is created between tubular structures, such as blood vessels or loops of the intestine.

CSICU/Unit: Cardiac Surgical ICU.

Blatherer: Chatterbox.

Dunderheid: An idiot, a stupid person.

Haud yer weesht: Be quiet.

Moose: mouse

Un jour, quelqu'un entrera dans votre vie et vous fera comprendre pourquoi cela n'a jamais fonctionné avec quelqu'un d'autre, mes chers. Et il semble que vous ayez.: One day someone will walk into your life and make you see why it never worked out with anyone else, my dears. And it seems that you have. (Google translation. If it’s wrong I apologise.) The quote is attributed to anonymous.

Mo nighean donn: My brown-haired lass

Mo leannan: Darling

Mizzle: A light rain

I hope you enjoyed this chapter. This Jamie and Claire will return. When I don't know. I also have several other stories in various stages of completion sitting in my files. I would like to give them a little attention too. And I still need to get through all the other stuff going on in my life.

From the bottom of my heart, thank you for reading. 🧡🧡🧡🧡

#edinburgh to boston #chapter 21 #Secrets and truths #here goes nothing #ol fic #my writing #jamie and claire #I can't believe I finished it

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book-o-scams · 3 years

Text

'Sorry Wrong Ed' Alternate Ending Storyboard Sequence

Check out Al Kang's Ed, Edd n Eddy portfolio!

Al Kang worked on the show during seasons 3-4 and had roles on the storyboard and prop teams apparently. (IMDb says he was credited as Al Choi at the time, but it also says he worked on season 1 episodes, which doesn't line up with the timeline he mentioned.. anyway.)

I discovered his portfolio a few months ago after seeing fandom discussion of the alternate 'Sorry Wrong Ed' ending. I was pleasantly surprised to find a few other treats as well! But yes, I even sorta liked what I learned about 'Sorry Wrong Ed' in the process... (I threw in a little analysis comparing the two endings at the bottom)

I noticed Al seemed to mix up the order on these, so I thought I'd try my best to figure out the right order. This was the most confusing one for me to try and figure out the order of since almost all 8 pages were out of order. I think I finally figured out what's going on in the original ending.

So this alternate ending starts at an unknown point with Eddy flat on the ground, presumably injured, picking himself back up. At this point in the final cut of the episode, Eddy has just been squashed by a tree, but this seems more like a different injury, and he's not even retaining his injuries from the truck scene... The scenes with Jonny and Plank from the final cut of the episode seem to not exist at all here, Jonny and Plank don't appear in this sequence.

Anyway, Eddy picks himself up in the middle of an on-going scene, sees Jimmy drop a coin in a jar for Ed, who has inexplicably turned the cursed phone into a scam on his own. Edd is glaring at the off-screen kids, who have somehow learned about this phone and are excited to kill Eddy with it.

Eddy: "Jimmy! No!"

Jimmy answers the phone: "Hello?"

Ed: "HA HA HA"

Edd: "You people don't seriously believe--"

Then we sync up with gags that did happen in the ending of Sorry Wrong Ed, with context that makes its tone a little more sadistic than random. Jimmy's paid phonecall drops the sandbox on Eddy.

This page has the most skeletal dialogue...

Kev: "Yes." (I think he's meant to be fist pumping because Eddy got hurt, more of a "Yes!")

Jimmy: "BAD LUCK EDDY PHONE." (this dialogue must have been a placeholder)

Edd: "HA HA" (sarcastic ha-ha or did Al mean to write "Ed" for this?)

Jimmy seems to offer the phone to Edd.

We sync up again with Edd's denial from the final cut of this episode, except now it actually makes sense that he's so one-track-minded, because there are people actively arguing with him and keeping him disengaged from the victim.

Edd: "There must be a cargo plane overfilled with playground supplies..."

Sarah interrupts him.

RING RING

Sarah: "Oh, that's for me."

Eddy at this point holds Ed responsible, as he should, and starts running to stop Ed or Sarah. Ed offers no explanation for his betrayal.

Eddy: "Ed! What are you doing!?"

Sarah: "Hello?"

Sarah's paid phonecall summons the hippos, the most random moment in the final cut of the episode. Note how both of these slapstick gags were storyboarded on the same generic background, seems like the lane or an empty lot, but clearly a different location than Eddy's front yard from the aired ending.

And that's all we have to go off of!

I'll put my updated opinions below the cut, but suffice it to say, I like the episode a little better now! Knowing what the ending was going to be and trying to figure out the choices that led to the ending we got, I feel more appreciative that it didn't end up a lost episode or something and less annoyed that it was 11 minutes of one joke.

I know I have a reputation for not finding slapstick funny and disliking this episode, but violence was never my only issue. Lots of episodes have lackluster slapstick that I just let wash over me. My point that never gets as much focus is that this episode never felt FINISHED to begin with. It's just a slapstick vacuum with no ending and no point, and it used to be frustrating to me not knowing for sure if my hunch was right or not that it felt like the episode just wasn't working and they had to cobble it together from the scenes that almost worked.

I am surprised to say I like the episode more now that I know that is pretty close to the truth. Judging from this peek into the episode's development, this episode seems to have reached Danny Antonucci's and/or Wootie's (the episode's lead board artist) limit for being mean-spirited with the characters without a reason. I'll still probably avoid rewatching it, but knowing the episode has no ending specifically because it's been trimmed to bare bones is somehow reassuring.

The most obvious flaw to this original ending is the lack of motivation for Ed's or the kids' actions. The kids presumably still weren't in the rest of the episode, so there's really no reason for them to be here other than reiterating the same idea from 'Your Ed Here' and 'The Good Ole Ed' that the neighborhood kids are always looking for a reason to gang up on Eddy, something that isn't really true of those characters in earlier seasons.

I think I can imagine how, on paper (in the writers' outline), this episode sounded funnier. Trying to imagine this ending as part of the whole episode, I think the script's idea of the final joke is that Ed is not satisfied with ending the tests at the point where they tried to return the phone to Rolf. I think Ed converts the curse-testing process to a scam at that point, building off of how Ed already wasn't processing Eddy's safety in anything so far, and is probably more focused on proving to Edd that curses are real (as Ed was previously in league with Evil Tim). The addition of Ed running his own tests and the kids arguing Eddy's point against Edd's while Eddy's busy, does sound more like a complete manic cartoon boiling point than the way the finished episode just petered out with Edd as the sole antagonist. But unfortunately, in visual execution, suddenly piling in so many aggressive characters and so much random violence at once, would only really result in it petering out at a higher volume.

Meanwhile Edd's characterization is made much more structurally sound in the original ending. He's annoyed FOR Eddy's sake, and the only reason he's not actively helping Eddy is because like 3 other characters were supposed to be arguing with him while this was happening. It seems extremely apparent to me that the cuts made to this ending were for the sake of mitigating Ed's reputation in the fandom, as well as the kids', and I think it's really unfortunate that Edd's characterization was the cost for salvaging everyone else's. I'm glad I already considered his behavior in 'Sorry Wrong Ed' non-canon, because now it feels like the reason the aired ending is so out-of-character is just because Edd is basically arguing with the ghost of the original scene. I formally forgive 'Sorry Wrong Ed'. Production turnarounds are tough and AKA did their best to not turn this into another forgotten 'Special Ed' episode that simply wasn't working.

I think ditching the original ending was ultimately the right call. It was not an exemplary episode, but I can admit it's less out of place to have a pure "vacuum of violence" story than it would've been to essentially give the kids a supernatural revenge plot like this. That would've been really weird to have to accept-- Eddy definitely wouldn't want to be friends with anyone at the end of the movie if THIS was their past. Changing it to an unaware Jonny and a questionably aware Plank being responsible, indeed, was a vibe that landed much more like standard EEnE fare. It was weird enough that the kids all saw Santa in JJJ, can you imagine if they all knew curses were real AND participated in attacking a neighbor with one??

If there was a silver lining for me the first time I saw this episode, it was that none of the kids were directly involved in Eddy's suffering. It made the questionable reality of the cursed device slightly more acceptable that only the Eds and Rolf know about the curse. If this ending had happened, I would've reacted the same, but I would've rejected its continuity even more than I do now, because it would just feel like they animated one of the DC Comics (where the kids can blow the Eds up with fireworks at the end or the Eds can randomly be crushed under an avalanche of anvils)-- the art could end up gorgeous but the characterizations don't exactly land as real human beings, the balance this show strives for typically.

And I think that's all I wanted to say! In the end, I found myself liking 'Sorry Wrong Ed' slightly more than I used to, all thanks to this glimpse into how the animation production system morphs the outcome of a cartoon. Thanks so much to Al Kang, for sharing your art and this insight into the industry! I don't know whether he did both the gesture drawings and the revised art, but judging from his other boards I think the cleaned up art is his, and I liked seeing the poses that almost were!

#ed edd n eddy #sorry wrong ed #al kang #storyboard #concept art #alternate ending #deleted ending #alternate sequence #analysis

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purplelurkinghini · 3 years

Text

Narcissus by the Pond

0. PROLOGUE

Under the cut is the prologue to yet another multi-chapter mess I am planning to write. What is different about this one is the narrator: Edward Nygma himself. Another aspect of this piece that sets it apart from the rest of my writing is its epistolary form. That’s right, baby! First-person POV!

If you’ve seen >> this << post floating around, this is indeed me actually putting that second prompt to use.

Enjoy!

Dear ▚▛▙▙

I found a cat toy while cleaning out my closet today. It was that ashy plush mouse stuffed with dried nepeta cataria which you spent money on instead of saving up for your student loans. If he were still here, he’d be rolling around on the floor in some vivid dream in which he was a lion and it was a gazelle. And, if you were still here, I would’ve asked you to stay.

The day you got that tabby’s claws into me was the day you checked into work late. Frank, our project manager and your internship supervisor, had to drop his showman act and instill in you the fear all WayneTech employees are motivated by. After you offered your excuses and exchanged glances with the floor, you were free to enter the kitchen to heat up the coffees that you went out of your way to fetch for us each morning.

My daily routine, which you’ve played no small role in forming during your short stay with us, was disrupted by the absence of caffeine in my bloodstream. I remember my Rubik’s cube and how I crammed a corner into my palm, squeezing down on the still unscrambled sides. I would call it an ‘absentminded’ action, but we both know that would be an incorrect assessment. My mind is never not present, even as it wanders. For this reason, when you finally came out of the kitchen, I couldn’t not wonder what happened to your sweatshirt. It must’ve been soaked in rainwater, I concluded, and that was the reason you removed it. Or, rather, that was the excuse you used as you removed it. After all, your sneakers were soggy, but you couldn't exactly walk barefoot all over a corporate. Even so, there you were, in a far too small t-shirt which was too tight around your torso and too short to cover your stomach, walking around the office with your brewed bribes.

“Here you go, Jim” you placed the foam cup right in front of his face to get him to notice you. I’d argue that that slip of skin that was eye level to him was enough to get that scatterbrain's attention. He must’ve made a joke, or attempted to, because you laughed louder than anyone should around him.

“Cory,” you sauntered over to him. “I asked the barista for two tablespoons and a half this time.” Sure, he might’ve taken his glasses off before taste-testing it, but his lenses were fogged-up before the lid came off. You felt the most confidence around Cory, the least confident one in our team. While no line of code was too complex for him, women were a mystery he had yet to solve. You see, I haven’t failed to notice you making the most physical contact with him, brushing your hand against his as a means of disarming him.

After he served you a stuttered smile, you moved on to Paul who was pretending to be preoccupied with his screen. He’d been watching you since you walked out of the kitchen, yet still acted surprised when you showed up next to him. You didn’t mean to disturb him, of course, so you tip-toed around his desk, silently setting the cup on a coaster. He thanked you without taking his eyes off of his work, but took the time to watch you walk away as soon as you turned away from him.

"I'm sorry, Ed," you pouted as you placed the coffee on top of a stack of papers. "I know like to have your coffee before 8, but the storm hit while I was in the shop and the whole street took cover in there-"

"Slow down," I released the Rubik’s cube, flexing my fingers. "I'm not your supervisor. It’s not my forgiveness you need."

"Well, no, but I actually want your forgiveness," you covered your mouth in a coquettish display. "I mean-"

“Like I said,” I brush off the blush creeping up on my cheeks. "There's no use for that." Fetching the foam cup, I take a sip of the scolding beverage and brave through it. “There's no use to ask the barista to write our full names either. This calligraphy exercise cost you a scolding from Frank.”

“Actually,” you pulled the hem of your shirt down which only uncovered more of your cleavage instead of hiding your stomach. “I wrote your name myself.”

I stroked the surface of the cup right across the script. Again, I can’t call this action ‘absentminded’ either, but my mind had wandered off again. That lovely lettering was yours and so was the green marker, so you must’ve scavenged your backpack for it on a crowded morning train. You also must’ve taken your time steadying your hand for each stroke, each dot. E. Nygma. You also must’ve cleaned up the cup as it inevitably spilled and steadied your tongue for each stroke, each lick. Maybe you ever sampled the coffee yourself, the taste of cherry Chapstick staining the rim.

“Well,” you interrupted my intrusive thoughts. “Jim’s showing me the new user interface, so-”

“Of course,” I dismissed you and my daydreams.

“Talk to you later.”

Yes, that was the day the cat got his claws into me. It was after I’d drained the drink, and found myself restless still, that I made my way into the kitchen for another one. That is when I spotted you in the corner, cradling the sweatshirt you discarded earlier. At the sound of my steps, you straightened your back, but you didn’t turn your torso towards me.

“Hey, Ed,” you smiled and it was a painful sight because I couldn’t ignore the panic I ignited in your eyes. “Lunchtime already?”

“What are you doing?”

“Umm, trying to dry my shirt?”

The closer I got, the more gregarious you grew. You asked about what I’d like to eat, what the guys would like to eat, if I’d like to order out. You didn’t stop until I asked it of you.

“What are you hiding from me?”

Before you could bellow out something long enough to cover the sound, I heard it.

“Did your hoodie just meow?”

It was only then that you turned, facing me fully. “Please don’t tell Frank, but this is the reason I was running late.” Two pairs of eyes were pleading with me. One belonged to you and they were begging. The other belonged to an orange ball of fur and they were unblinking.

You were holding a bottle cap filled with water up to its meowing maw, so you must’ve been attempting to keep the animal hydrated, even after rescuing it from the streets in the middle of a storm. You bought kitten kibbles on your way to WayneTech and that had eaten ten minutes of your time and cost you a scolding from Frank.

“I couldn’t just leave Eddie to drown in a ditch somewhere.”

“Eddie?”

“Yeah,” you let it sink its little teeth into your skin as it held a single finger close with two whole paws. They feel like needles, I should know, but you carried on cooing the pincushion. “He reminds me of another green-eyed ginger. Maybe you know him.”

Yes, you remember now, don’t you? That was the moment Eddie sunk his claws into me, and I do mean it literally. He released your finger only to get his paws trapped into my button-up. I also mean it figuratively, as I swore to keep your secret the very next second. And, once you were by my side, shadowing me as I was coding like you wanted to since your first day of internship, you made me swear to keep him. How could I not? Your dorm had a ‘no pets’ policy and you had named him after me.

The two of us had time to get acquainted after you left for your evening classes. I fed him the kibbles and was careful not to get caught. And, because I wouldn't be using it that day anyway, I replaced your sweatshirt with my gym towel. While it smelled like a sad, soaked kitten, whatever fruity fragrance you were using had yet to fade from the fabric. That evening I drove straight home as soon as I left WayneTech, skipping my daily workout. My daily routine, as I’ve mentioned, had been modified by you.

“We don't even need to potty train him,” you giggled when you saw Eddie digging through the brand new litter box I had ordered. It had been waiting for me by the front entrance along with the delivery guy and yourself.

You got into a cab before even texting me, asking for an address only after the driver started the clock. I expected that stupid stunt from the likes of Jim, not you.

“He's a clever boy,” I smiled when I saw you were still wearing the green button-up shirt I asked you to exchange that shrunken t-shirt of yours with. “Like his namesake.”

You kneeled before the kitten and produced the plush mouse I'd only seen Eddie play with once. “Did the shampoo arrive? He should be high enough to not scratch our eyes out now.”

After rolling around on the rug with a bag full of catnip, he seemed blissed out enough for a bath. And, after only scratching you twice as you held him for me to scrub his ginger fur ever so gently, we got him all dried and drained. Those green eyes were barely opened as he looked up at us from the cat bed he was supposed to grow into and the sweatshirt he had grown fond of.

“Now we know he hates all water,” you said through gritted teeth as I sanitized your shaking hands. Your fingers were as fidgety as Cory's, yet I doubt his skin was ever that soft. “Not just the rain.”

“I bet he'd hate flees more,” I caressed your knuckles after bandaging the bloody bits.

“I hate the rain, too,” your eyes were downcast, much like earlier that morning, seemingly searching my sheets for something. “I never knew Frank could be so-”

“Terrifying?”

“Mean,” your giggle wasn't as gleeful as I'd grown used to. “I thought he was going to fire me right then and there.”

“He wouldn't,” I squeezed down on the shadows of your hands as they were snatched away from me. Then, I leaned in close and almost brushed your love with my lips as they moved: “He will let the anxiety that comes with that uncertainty eat you alive first.”

“See, now you're being mean,” you laughed, finally looking up at me.

“Me? Never,” I said, satisfied with myself. You were laughing - actually laughing - because of me.

When the dryer dinged, I was confident in leaving you in my bedroom with a smile on your face. After all, I was the one who brought you in there and I was the one who brought that out of you. Once I've collected your clothes, I returned to find you had already removed my button-up and was drying up the rest of your skin with one of my towels. You were turned only half the way, so you must've perceived me in your periphery. Paul pulled the same thing earlier today. Still, you sounded surprised as you covered the side of your breasts I bet you wanted me to see.

"Forgive me,” I turned around, but, unlike you, I did it all the way. “Here you are,” I stretched my arm behind me to hand you the bra and t-shirt.

“Thank you.” It was only after your bomber jacket was zipped to your chin that I dared to look at you directly. Your sweatshirt was Eddie's now, so you covered up with what you had. “For everything.”

“Let me drive you to your dorm.”

"You've already done enough," you pulled out your phone as I walked you to the door. “I'll just call another cab. Eddie needs you here. You need to wear him out, or he'll wear you out tonight.”

“Cats are crepuscular creatures,” I assure you. “Not nocturnal. I'm sure he'll fall asleep before I even turn in for the night.”

Yes, I was sure he'd fall. However, Eddie was so convinced. And, sure enough, there he was, meowing in my face at midnight.

My mistake was letting him get his claws into me. You see, I couldn't bear waking that little bastard up. Not when he looked so small in the middle of your sweatshirt, in the middle of his bed. He finally had a dry place to dream in and I couldn't take that away from him, so I let him sink his claws into me that much deeper.

And yours, as well.

After chasing him with my hand atop of my covers and letting him swat at the finger-spider, he was ready for bed. My bed. Yes, his green eyes were drooping when he surrendered to sleep. It just so happened that he did it on the left side of my bed. And I, not willing to risk another rude awakening, placed him atop of the pillow. Then, ever so silently, I slipped out of bed and into the bathroom. It was on my way back that I stumbled upon it: your sweatshirt.

I recall calling it off the floor and taking it with me to bed. For Eddie, of course. He loved that sweatshirt, as I'm sure you know. However, as I placed it on his pillow, I caught a whiff of it. It smelled like rainwater, pet shampoo, Eddie, and you. It was your sweat and deodorant, sweet and soapy, just as I had smelled it on my shirt before tossing it in the laundry basket and I couldn't smell it on the left side of my bed.

As I closed my eyes, I saw you. You were walking around the office, their wandering eyes watching you. You pass my desk and I am drenched in your scent. Sweet. Soapy. Soaking. Your sweatshirt is drenched, so you discard it. Your t-shirt is too tight, so I can see the dip of your belly button and the swell of your breasts. Though I am convinced you had a bra to cover them, my mind wanders. It wanders about the color of your nipples and it paints a picture of them peeking through the flimsy fabric.

And, as my mind wanders further, that flimsy fabric is pulled down, your hands wriggling at the hem of it. That's when those peeks pop out along with the rest. All of a sudden, you're soaking. Sweet. Soapy. You even try to hide this from me, crossing your arms over your chest. I capture your hands, soft skin, and fidgeting fingers, and wrestle with them. Oh, how easily you surrendered to me, sighing in defeat. I lock your arms behind your back with one hand and squeeze your tit like a stress toy. Sweet. Soapy. Soaking. I had to taste it.

When my tongue touched the tip, you pushed against it, filling my mouth with your flesh. You wanted this. That nipple is as sharp as a needle, but it melts in the heat of my mouth. You wanted this. After your tit is slick with my saliva and the peak is all puffy, I gather the other one in my grip and repeat. Sweet. Soapy. Soaking.

You wanted this and you told me as much. You said it loud enough for the others to hear. You wanted this. You wanted me. And, as if I haven't done enough, as if I haven't given you enough, I gave you all of me. Clearing the desk, cube, keypad, computer, and all, I slam you atop the surface. I had to pull down your pants for you, but your legs part all on their own. As for your panties, well, they all but dissolved under the duress. You attempt to hide from me again, tightening your thighs together. And, again, you surrender to me all too easily. After all, you want me. Your pussy? As I parted your legs and pushed your knees up to your chest, I saw how much she wanted me. Sweet. Soapy. Soaking.

However, I was not in a hurry. No matter how hot were your insides and how cold the chills were down my spine, I still took my sweet, soapy, soaking time. I set myself loose, my length slapping against your ass once it sprang free. You shivered, your back arching like a bow and your hands treading through your tangled hair. You wanted me. I took my time, sandwiching my shaft between your pussy lips, sliding across the slick and even wearing your labia as a hood atop its head for a maddening moment. It was only when you began begging, mewling to be mated that I gave myself to you. I crammed my cock inside of your cunt and went in so deep, I felt your heartbeat as your inner walls collapsed around me.

Sweet. Soapy. Soaking. I fucked you into a fever, your skin as slick as your insides and your mouth leaking as much saliva as your pussy was spilling precum. Sweet. Soapy. Soaking. Soon, it would've been spilling cum. Sweet. Soapy. Soaking. When I did come, however, it was in my fist and not between your lips.

As I opened my eyes, you disappeared. There was nothing there to greet me but the strike of the street lights slashing the darkness across the ceiling. Your sweetness had been replaced with my saltiness. It was indeed soapy and soaking, but it wasn’t you. Then, for the second time that night, I slipped out of bed and snuck into the bathroom.

The day you got cat’s claws into my shirt was the day you sunk your own under my skin. After that day, we shared a secret. I never told Frank about Eddie, but Eddie never told you about what I did in the dark. His glowing green eyes didn’t judge me, but they never let me forget. After you left without a notice, ginning up your internship, changing your phone number and never surrendering your real name, I couldn’t face them anymore. His eyes never let me forget, so I rehomed him.

I found your Gotham U sweatshirt while cleaning out my closet today. The name you gave WayneTech is nowhere to be found in their student records. Your name can’t be found in any police records either. Your real name, however, I am sure will uncover quite the mystery.

Yours,

E. NYGMA

#Edward Nygma #Riddler #Edward Nygma x Reader #Riddler x Reader #It is Not Safe For Work #Riddler x You #Edward Nygma x You

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diazactually · 3 years

Note

Yeah, let's bully and harass the writers until they give in to our demands, despite them not being what they had planned creatively and it possibly forcing them to ruin THEIR vision for THEIR show. And, like. Did y'all forget that Ryan Guzman is racist? There's a reason he's barely been in this season and had hardly any plot. ALMOST THE WHOLE CAST IS UNCOMFORTABLE WORKING WITH HIM. I'm shocked they didn't take the opportunity to kill Eddie off and get rid of the toxicity I'm sure Ryan brings to set.

hi!

so first of all, interesting choice of words there, bully and harass.

i’m curious what you mean by that because you see according to tim minear “conversations that the fans have are conversations that happen in the writer’s room”.

to me, this means that the writers listen to their audience and are curious about our opinion and wishes. now how does one voice their opinion other than on social media, joining the discussion?

now correct me if i’m wrong but making a post about something i did not like about this episode doesn’t exactly count as bullying or harrassing the writers.

did i imply we should attack them on their social media account? did i imply we should send them threating letters? did i by any means imply we should interact with them in a disrespectful way? no, i don’t believe i did.

second of all, you’re saying their vision and their show. so you’re saying that show writers think up an idea, write a script for it for let’s say 4 seasons, fulfilling their vision without caring if anybody likes it?

i mean, sure, if you’re rich and have nothing better to do than waste your money on making a show while ignoring the feedback? go for it. but if you’re neither rich, nor ignorant you’re gonna be wary of the audience’s feedback because viewers are the key to success. you have to keep them interested and therefore invested because they bring the profit with their engagement. that’s how the business works.

now let’s move on to the real issue i assume you have with my earlier post.

i don’t know what ryan guzman is doing nowadays, i don’t follow him on any social media, i only see him as eddie diaz.

i know about the events regarding him last year, i know how mixed feedback his words got. the thing is though that i am in no place to decide whether he is racist or not. i’m a white woman, his actions didn’t affect me therefore i’m not going to make a statement, it’s not my place to have opinions about it.

what i can reply to is you saying almost the whole cast is uncomfortable working with him. what i do see of ryan is in aisha’s ig stories actually. and on group pictures with other cast members. according to tim minear when he forgot to tell ryan whether eddie lives or dies he got messages from the cast saying ‘you’re not killing off eddie, are you?’ he also said oliver and ryan has a lot of chemistry when it comes to acting together, tho make of that what you will

anyway i’m just not exactly sure what you mean by almost everyone being uncomfortable with him

to that last sentence i really can’t, nor do i want to reply. you’re sure so i won’t bother trying to convince you otherwise, we are all free to think whatever we want, it doesn’t change the fact that we are not present during sets nor do we interact with the cast besides social media posts.

#911 thoughts #anon ask #eddie diaz #ryan guzman #911 on fox #911 #911 4x14

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tripleaxeldiaz · 4 years

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all was golden when the day met the night

chapter 5/5

read on ao3

start from the beginning

As the weekend wears on, Eddie feels more and more like himself. He chalks it up mostly to staying inside with Chris, Disney+, and takeout for two days straight, basking in the unbridled happiness that always seems to surround his son. He knows, though, that a big part of his feeling better is also because of Buck — he’s never had a catharsis like that with anyone, and he thanked Buck by essentially slamming the door in his face as soon as he tried to dig a little deeper. He wanted to help, Eddie wanted him to help, but it was too much and he was too raw, so he just shut down. Defaulted to being closed off as he usually was because it was safe and easy. But Buck is his best friend, one of the people he loves most, and he deserves someone who could be open and honest with him.

Eddie really wants to be that person.

He really needs to apologize.

He tries multiple times, writing and deleting texts, planning scripts in his head but never hitting the call button. The words keep getting jumbled and they don’t feel like enough, don’t feel like they’re fully expressing how much Eddie wants to tell Buck everything, wants to fully let him in, if Buck is still interested. If he’s not, Eddie’s really not sure what he’s going to do.

He braces himself on Monday, but Buck doesn’t come in. He sees him through the window as he parks and all but falls out of his car, hurrying toward Armageddon. He stops at the front door of the shop, knocks, smiles, and waves, before hurrying off again.

It’s fine. It’s fine. He’s just running late.

He doesn’t see him at all Tuesday, but gets a selfie of a sad looking Buck wrapped in a blanket with a mug of tea and a message reading sinus infections suck ))):. He smiles as he tells him to feel better, and things almost feel normal. Maybe this is just how Buck wants to play it — pretend that Eddie didn’t have a complete breakdown and go back to how things used to be, to how they used to be, whatever that was. If that’s what’s going to make Buck happiest and keep him in Eddie’s life, that’s what Eddie will do. He’ll smash all his feelings back into a box and set it on fire if he has to. Whatever it takes to make sure Buck never leaves.

The door above the shop rings on Wednesday morning, but Eddie’s too absorbed in trying to balance the numbers of a recent wedding to notice. A shadow falls over his laptop, and when he looks up, he’s face to face with Buck, backlit in the golden glow of the early morning sunlight, looking like an angel even in his usual all black. Eddie feels his mouth go dry and his heartbeat pick up.

“You know,” Buck says, his smile easy as always, even if his shoulders look a little tense, “you’re pretty cute when you’re trying to do math.”

It’s a knee jerk reaction to roll his eyes and shake his head, and he smiles too as he sees Buck relax. “At least I know how to do math,” he fires back, laughing at Buck’s mock outrage. Just like that, they’re back in their old routine.

“That’s what I have Maddie for. She’s the brains of the whole operation, and I’m the beauty.”

“What’s Chimney then?”

“He’s dead meat after he let my flowers die while I was gone for a day.”

Eddie snorts as he gets the craft paper. “Well, math might be hard, but replacing flowers is easy. Any requests?”

Buck just shrugs, smiling softly at Eddie now. “Whatever you’re feeling.”

Eddie’s been trying to figure that out for the past four days, but it’s so much easier when Buck asks him to do it with flowers. He wraps the bouquet and turns back to Buck, holding the flowers between them like a shield.

Buck cocks his head, confused. Eddie clears his throat and takes a deep breath. “I’m really sorry about last week. You were just trying to help, and I shouldn’t have yelled at you. I’ve got...a lot of stuff to sort through, and I didn’t want to put that burden on you.”

Buck’s smile gets softer still as he reaches out to hold Eddie’s wrist. “It’s okay, I get it. But I meant what I said — I’m here for you no matter what. However and whenever you need me.” He takes the bouquet from Eddie, holding it in the crook of his arm. “Are these apology flowers to match your apology speech?”

Eddie laughs, trying to ignore the embarrassed blush he feels growing on his cheeks. “I guess so. Yellow roses literally mean apology, purple hyacinth means asking for forgiveness, and red carnations—” mean something that you absolutely can’t tell him, he finishes in his head. He freezes for a second, scrambling for any other reason for including them, before lamely landing on— “They just looked nice.”

Luckily, Buck takes it, no questions asked.

As he leaves, Eddie feels a weight go with him, feels more like himself than he has in days. Buck is still here. He saw Eddie at his lowest and it didn’t scare him off. And while that’s all well and good, it feels fragile and new, like something that could break the minute Eddie tries to make it more than friendship like he still so desperately wants.

Instead, he resolves to ball his feelings back up in his chest, hiding them away like he’s done for months and months now. He promised himself he’d do whatever it takes to make sure Buck sticks around, and he meant it.

~~~~~~~~~~

The sun is setting as he enters Armageddon, in a surprisingly good mood given everything that’s happened the past two weeks. He makes his way to the back, distracted by trying to figure out what to do with his weekend. Maybe they can go to the art museum Chris has been raving about, look at all the works that don’t make any sense to Eddie but can keep Chris enraptured for hours. Maybe Buck will come along to explain everything.

He’s distracted enough that he doesn’t register Buck and Chris’s conversation until he’s halfway to the table they’re sitting at in the back room. When he does finally tune in, he stops, just out of sight, and feels his whole body start to go numb.

“It says they mean ‘I’m sorry’ and ‘Please forgive me’. Is that what Dad said they meant? Was he sorry about something?” Chris is reading from a school library book, the bouquet from earlier this week on the table between him and Buck.

Buck looks at the flowers, smiling almost sadly, before turning back to Chris. “Yeah, that’s what he said too. We just got into an argument, but gave me these flowers, so it’s okay now.” He turns back to the flowers, fingers playing with a stray stem that had fallen off as they wilted. “What does it say about red carnations?”

Chris flips through the book, eventually landing on the page he was looking for. Eddie braces himself as quietly as he can, because he knows exactly what Chris is going to read. “There’s a lot of meanings for different colors, but it says that if you give someone red carnations, it means you love them and feel something special for them. What did Dad say?”

His sharp intake of breath is completely involuntary, fueled purely by panic. Both heads snap toward him immediately, Chris’s face lighting up, Buck’s looking stunned. He tries to keep his own face as normal as possible, but his eyes feel wild and he’s hot all over and he just needs to get Chris and get out.

“Dad! I got a book about flowers from the library so I can know what they mean just like you!”

He really hopes his smile is genuine, because as happy as he is that his son wants to be anything like him, he also feels about 15 seconds away from passing out. “That’s great, buddy. Can you grab your stuff so we can go?”

Chris hops off the chair to pack up, filling the would-be uncomfortable silence with his usual chatter about school, what he’s reading, and what he did with Buck all afternoon. Eddie very pointedly keeps his eyes on his son the whole time, nodding and commentating more than normal so he’s not tempted to look at Buck and completely fall apart. Chris hugs Buck tight around the middle before heading for the door, forcing Eddie to acknowledge Buck without any kind of buffer.

“Thanks for watching him, we’ll see you later, okay?” he says, looking at a spot just over Buck’s shoulder. He doesn’t wait for a response, just rushes out, following after Chris even as he hears Buck call his name.

Surely, Buck will just brush this off. He won’t think twice about why Eddie actually included the carnations and just move on. They’ll be fine, Eddie won’t lose him because of his loud, dumb feelings, and the whole thing will blow over by Monday. He repeats it in his head over and over, willing it to be true.

They’re through the front door and halfway down the sidewalk before Buck catches up with them.

“Eddie, wait!”

Apparently, his force of will is not as strong as he thought.

Eddie skids to a stop, letting Chris run ahead to the store. He closes his eyes and prepares himself, because this is it. The moment he had been trying to prevent for months. He’s off the edge of the cliff, and there’s nothing he can do about it. He takes a deep breath before he turns around.

Buck is watching him. He looks confused and a little worried, and Eddie’s palms itch to reach out and somehow make it better. He jams his hands into the pockets of his jeans instead.

“The carnations weren’t just for show, were they?” Buck asks, slowly, quietly, like he’s trying not to spook a caged animal.

He could lie. He could tell him they didn’t mean anything, that they really just looked nice. He could deny it over and over, and he knows eventually Buck would give in and let it go. They’d go back to square one where they’ve been for so long that Eddie can see ruts forming in their routine.

He’s so tired, though. Tired of lying, tired of wrestling with his feelings and trying to keep them from cracking his ribs and breaking free. And Buck had already seen him lower than rock bottom, and he stayed. Maybe he would stay after this, too.

“No”, Eddie says, shaking his head. “They weren’t just for show. Neither were the gardenias or pink camellias or red tulips, none of them were. You can look them up if you don’t believe me.”

Buck freezes, eyes wide, still as Eddie has ever seen him. And for as much as Eddie is usually a coward, he decides this is the moment to be brave.

“I love you,” he says in a rush. “I’ve loved you for a while, and I didn’t know how to say it out loud, so I just gave you love in flowers instead. You’re everything, Buck, to me and to Chris, and I just didn’t want to lose you or scare you away because I don’t know what I’d do with myself if you left. We need you, in whatever way we can have you.”

He can feel himself shaking as he stops talking, face hot with a furious blush of embarrassment, he’s sure. He never stops looking at Buck though, waiting for him to say something, anything, even telling him to fuck off and never speak to him again would be better than silence.

He waits, and Buck just looks at him with an expression he can’t decipher. He looks and looks, and with every passing second, Eddie feels the world crumbling down around him.

The numbness is back, this time laced with the sting of rejection. He takes a few steps backwards as he feels tears start to prick at the back of his eyes, turning toward the store before they’re too noticeable.

He stops when he feels Buck’s hand wrap around his wrist, holding him in place. “Eddie, please,” he says, sounding close to tears himself. “I— I don’t know what to say, I—”

Eddie pulls his wrist back, Buck letting go without a fight. “It’s fine, Buck. Just forget about it.”

He walks away, tears falling without shame.

He half hopes Buck follows him.

He doesn’t.

~~~~~~~~~~

Eddie is not hiding. He is strategically avoiding.

He tries to process everything over the weekend, but come Monday, he still can’t bring himself to face Buck, to have the talk where he tells Eddie that he just wants to be friends and nothing more. Because he’ll say that, but things won’t go back to normal. They’ll be awkward and stilted and they’ll drift farther and farther apart until they’re no longer in each other’s orbit, practically strangers. He wasn’t lying when he said he didn’t know what he’d do with himself without Buck, and he really doesn’t want to try figuring that out now.

So Buck comes in every day like normal, and every day Eddie finds an excuse to busy himself in the back room and let Hen handle him. It only takes her two visits to catch on and pry every detail out of him.

“Eddie, I love you, but you’re the biggest idiot I’ve ever met,” she tells him when he finishes his story.

“Thank you for kicking me when I’m down,” he says, voice muffled from where his head is pressed to the table. She grabs a hold of his wrist, tugging it until he sits up and gives her his attention.

“Look,” she says. “I don’t know exactly what’s going on in Buck’s head, but he looks about as heartbroken as you do, if not worse. You have to talk to him. If you love him like you say you do, you owe him that much, at the very least.”

She’s right, of course, but that doesn’t mean Eddie is happy about it. Nor does it mean he’s going to jump headfirst into talking about his feelings like he did the last time. He tried being brave, and look where that got him.

He’s still biding his time (and licking his wounds) when he comes back from a delivery a few days later to an eerily quiet store. It’s late afternoon, when they’re normally busy with people picking up bouquets for date nights on their way home from work, but he doesn’t hear any voices when he comes in the back door or see Hen running around with fistfuls of flowers. He walks to the front and stops dead before he can call out for anyone.

Buck is there, once again lit up by the sunlight streaming through the windows, standing next to a vase holding the biggest bouquet Eddie thinks he’s ever seen. He looks nervous, biting his lip as he watches Eddie walk closer, no doubt waiting for a reaction. Eddie’s honestly dumbstruck, because not only is it huge, but he immediately registers the meaning behind each flower he sees.

Blue violets for devotion, forget-me-nots for true love, yarrow for everlasting love. Aster, red chrysanthemums, honeysuckle. Rainflowers asking for returned affection and jasmine for love without conditions. They’re all surrounded by moonflowers for dreaming of and hoping for love. The whole thing is an explosion of color and scents and emotions and it’s beautiful. Almost as beautiful as the man standing next to it.

“I didn’t know what to say last week,” Buck says quietly, gaze moving from the flowers to Eddie. There’s a blush crawling up his cheeks that rivals any rose or carnation. His smile unfurls like a lily in the summertime. “I figured I’d try speaking your language instead.”

Eddie turns to Buck fully, tries to say something, but the words get stuck in his throat as his mind tries to process the sheer amount of things he’s feeling. He has half a mind to pinch himself, make sure he’s not dreaming, but he knows he isn’t. This is better than anything in his wildest fantasies because it’s real.

He’s snapped back to the present moment when he feels Buck’s hands on his, slotting their fingers together. Eddie squeezes instinctually, holding on for dear life, because he feels like he’s about to crack again — not from despair this time, but from sheer, unfiltered joy. It only gets bigger when he looks at Buck and sees it reflected in his eyes, too.

“Eddie,” he says, a laugh bubbling out of him like the happiness is overwhelming. “I love you. I love you so much. I think I’ve loved you from the minute I ran into the store for the first time, and it’s been snowballing ever since.” He brings a hand up to Eddie’s cheek, wiping away tears he didn’t even know were falling. He leans into the touch, smile only growing because it’s warm and perfect, like he always knew it would be. “You said I was everything to you and Chris, but you two are more than everything to me. I want to be here, with you, for you, for as long as you’ll let me.”

And because he is who he is, because he’s been living with his parasitic self doubt for longer than anyone should, Eddie pauses. His mind flashes through all his shadows and darkness lingering under this momentary happiness, and while it’s overwhelming and good and true, he still doubts.

“I’m a mess,” he says, feeling Buck tighten his hold like he’s afraid he’ll try to run. “You saw it up close. I can’t guarantee it won’t always be that bad. Are you sure you want to deal with all this?”

“I want everything with you, Eddie. Good, bad, and ugly. You can’t scare me away that easily. I won’t let you.”

For once, there’s no rebuttal. He knows Buck is telling the truth, feels it in every part of him. If he focuses enough, he swears he feels a little less darkness around him. But there’s so much going on in his head that he doesn’t know what to say anymore, can’t figure out how to express to Buck exactly what all of this means to him.

He’s still not great at words, but he’s as good at actions as he is at flowers.

There’s no fireworks or angels singing when they kiss, and it takes a few tries for them to stop smiling enough for their teeth to get out of the way. But once they fall into a rhythm, Buck hands on Eddie’s hips, Eddie’s hands running through Bucks curls, the whole world falls away until it’s just them. It’s a slow, gentle thing, but Eddie pours everything he’s hiding into it, hoping that Buck picks up on how much and how deeply he loves him. If the smile he feels on Buck’s lips is any indication, he thinks the message is loud and clear.

They pull away eventually but only to rest their foreheads together, soaking up each other. Eddie’s still smiling as he leans in, placing kisses on whatever parts of Buck’s face he can reach, just because he can. He feels the rumble of Buck’s laugh in his own chest, and almost wants to cry again at the realization that he’s going to be able to feel that laugh whenever he wants, have it memorized and tucked away in his mind for when the darkness is too loud.

He always knew Buck had enough light in him for both of them. Now he gets to prove himself right.

He pulls back a little more, taking in every feature of Buck’s happiness, fingers coming up to gently trace over his birthmark.

“Does this mean I get free tattoos for life?” he asks. Buck’s laugh is sharp and surprised, and they dissolve into giggles and kisses and touches like they’re teenagers again.

Eddie knows that it won’t always be this perfect — things will be hard, they’ll be tested again and again, and sometimes things will feel too dark for either of them to bear. But the light will always come back, they’ll grow stronger, blossoming in ways they never could on their own.

Eddie has been hiding in the shadows for too long. Buck is finally bringing him into the sunshine.

#eddie diaz #evan buckley #buddie #buddie fic #9-1-1 fic #9-1-1 fox #i'm sad it's over except SIKE i have a lot of little fics planned for this #i hope you guys like it!!#the flower shop #ficcery

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365days365movies · 3 years

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January 6, 2021: Last Action Hero (1993) (Part 1)

Let’s have some fun, shall we?

Comedy is my favorite genre, and I obviously also love action. So, when looking at the subgenres to cover this month, action-comedy most certainly was at the top of the list. But what exactly is action-comedy?

Exactly what it sounds like, funnily enough. Action-comedies rely on physical action sequences to further the plot, but also inject dialogue with humor and jokes throughout the script. Entertainment and amusement combined into one beautiful, succinct package. I’ll be judging the writing for these movies on how much they made me laugh while watching it. That said...

OK, so, Arnold Schwarzenegger and Last Action Hero. Schwarzenegger isn’t exactly the most emotionally expressive actor in the world, as you’ve probably noticed. And expressiveness is somewhat necessary to express humor. Look at Eddie Murphy up there, and see how expressive he is. Schwarzenegger...doesn’t have that. At all. But, this movie could still be funny! Shane Black wrote it, and he wrote one of my favorite guilty pleasure Halloween movies, The Monster Squad. So, I’m looking forward to this movie for that in and of itself. And with that...

Recap

We start with a sick guitar lick on Christmas Day, as a group of cops close in on a criminal known as the Ripper holding children hostage at an elementary school. But then...Jack Slater (played, naturally, by Arnold Schwarzenegger) arrives. And yes, this is a parody character and scene, meant to lambast all of the stereotypical renegade cop tropes that I’ve literally never seen in a movie. Like, I guess Lethal Weapon and Beverly Hills Cop have it, but I think this character concept has been Flanderized into...well...Jack Slater.

Slater kicks a cop through a window with a Schwarzenegger-esque action line, and CRUSHES A RADIO LIKE A NAPKIN. I appreciate Schwarzenegger making fun of himself like this, and we’ve only just begun. Jack goes through banter with the Ripper (Tom Noonan), who...is unironically terrifying. Holy shit, that guy is creepy as fuck, and his stylized ax is intimidating as hell. And as he holds Slater’s son hostage out of revenge, the two face off with some cool action beats, and...

...Shit, I think I want to watch this movie. And I don’t mean Last Action Hero, I mean the in-universe movie that our actual main character, Danny Madigan (Austin O’Brien) is watching. Danny’s a big Jack Slater fan, and one of the only patrons of a movie theater owned by Nick (Robert Prosky). Nick, a kind old man, invites Danny to see the next Slater film before anybody else. And honestly, I get it. I’d watch this movie series unironically if it existed, real talk. Mostly because it seems fun.

Danny’s skipped school just to see this movie, and he walks into his English class, where the teacher shows Lawrence Olivier as Hamlet. Fun fact! The English teacher showing it is played by Joanne Plowright, Olivier’s real life wife! Very sweet! Anyway, Danny, bored by a goddamn classic movie, conjures a different movie in his head.

Fuck yes. I need this movie to exist.

We learn from Danny’s mother (Mercedes Ruehl) that his father has recently died, and he spends far too much of his time watching movies at Nick’s theater. I look forward to this revelation never being explored. As he’s headed to the theater when he isn’t supposed to, he opens the door at the exact wrong time, and A ROBBER BREAKS INTO HIS PLACE, OH SHIT! Confronted with the type of real danger that he’d see in an action movie, and with no action hero to save him, the robber finds nothing of value and leaves the place. He gets rescued by the cops eventually, and they tell him to go home. But, no, he goes...to the movies.

Mom might have a point there, sport.

While he’s there, Nick brings him in, and begins to monologue to him about his past in the theater business. And that monologue introduces the MacGuffin of the film: the Golden Ticket, given to Nick by Houdini himself, and an alleged portal to another world.

So, is this gonna be more of a Pagemaster situation, or a The NeverEnding Story deal? The Golden Ticket is torn for admission, Danny sits down, and the movie-in-a-movie begins in earnest. In the film, Slater’s cousin Frank (Art Carney in his last film role) is being held hostage by the crime boss Vivaldi (Anthony Quinn), and his henchman...one of the most immediately visually interesting characters I’ve ever seen in a film...in a FILM.

Benedict (played by Charles Dance), is immediately a fascinating character, essentially a non-Marvel Bullseye, and a gunsman with flawless precision. And yeah...I dig it. Oh, how I dig it.

Jack Slater arrives in his snakeskin boots, and discovers Frank, who delivers a message in the cheesiest death sequence I’ve ever seen, followed by the cheesiest bomb compound I’ve ever seen, followed by a bigger explosion than anyone would’ve expected, FOLLOWED by...OK, look, the references to other action movies in this are already ridiculous and all over the place, and I refuse to spoil them all for those of you who’ve never seen this movie.

By the way, I gotta make a comment about Danny real quick. Watching this many action movies may have made him a little...detached...from reality. I say this because he expressed no shock or emotion during or after the robbery, then went immediately to the movie theater, and had no reaction whatsoever about the death of the two cops in the movie. Little budding sociopath, that Danny.

Although, that might change, now that the ticket’s getting all magic-y, and a stick of ACME dynamite (actually in the film, I swear) makes its way into the theater. It explodes, and Danny inexplicably (magically, even) finds himself in the movie. So, Pagemaster, then.

Danny’s complete lack of reaction and emotion in this situation confirms my theory on him being a liiiiiiiiiiittle detached from reality. But then...the most gloriously stupid thing I’ve seen this month happens.

Arnold proceeds to make a pun that is NOT “Nasty brainfreeze,” and I am disappointed forever. Who wrote this? Who wrote this?

We get a car chase fueled with jumps, gunfire, puns, a casual mention of premature ejaculation, and Coca Cola product placement, all accompanied by Danny finally showing a modicum of reaction to the fact that he is IN A FUCKING MOVIE. REACT MORE, DANNY. At his age, I would have soiled myself immediately. At MY age, I would soil myself if this happened to me! Anyway...

OK, I just have to say this now: this movie has some of the most insane shots and set-ups that I’ve ever seen, and by GOD, I am here for it. Like...Did you SEE the motorcycle dress girl panic while a man WAS ON FIRE IN THE BACKGROUND? Earlier, a car does an INSANE jump and crash and explodes in the BACKGROUND, and the movie just treats it like a pigeon flew on set! Nobody cares! THE SCENES IN THIS MOVIE MAKE INSANITY AN ART FORM.

Anyway...we get to the LAPD, and...HOLY SHIT. IS THAT…

Was that Sharon Stone as Catherine Trammel from Basic Instinct, and Robert Patrick as T1000 from Terminator 2? I...but...wait...if...how...I’m broken now. 404, blue screen, reboot, update needed, WHAT?!? I...just...SO many questions, and this movie better answer them.

We see some added insanity, including a man with a houndstooth suit which I DESPERATELY WANT but could not pull off. There’s literally a buddy cop generator, where we also see a rabbi cop, and an Amadeus reference is dropped as F. Murray goddamn Abraham (playing a cop named Practice) appears in this movie, and THEN...an animated cat cop sexually harasses a female cop. I am not joking.

Am...am I insane? Also, if I was in the theaters watching this movie-in-a-movie, I would be both angry and confused as to what in the FUCK was happening!!! WHY IS THERE AN ANIMATED CAT COP IN MY JACK SLATER MOVIE? WHO DIRECTED THIS BULLSHIT (in universe)?? Also that cat was recently suspended, and is also one of their best men.

And then, Danny uses his knowledge of the Jack Slater franchise to break down the barriers of repressed affection between the chief and Slater, and it’s briefly heartwarming for some reason. Anyway, they’re now suspicious of his knowledge of Slater’s life, and this leaves to the inevitable buddy cop pairing of Jack Slater and Danny Madigan. This art-deco something walks by…

...and I desperately need to know more about the art direction of this film. Because, wow, it is an absolute masterpiece of randomly exaggerated shit, damn.

To prove his point about being in a movie, Danny goes to a Blockbuster, which... man, does THAT bring me back! That’s right you young whippersnappers, I WAS THERE FOR BLOCKBUSTER IN THE ‘90s! We used to go to the store and look at the VHSs. I remember seeing The Lost World there, but my dad said I was too young for it. I was sad, but he got me some candy and a Really Wild Animals video, and we watched it that night after Carmen Sandiego. My God. It was paradise.

Anyway, Schwarzenegger doesn’t exist, and find out that Stallone has taken over his roles.

...I’d watch that. I’d watch the HELL out of that. Danny then uses some legitimately impressive math to dissect the “555” number thing in movies, as well as pointing out the lack of non-conventionally attractive women. Which, credit to you, kiddo, for addressing the overwrought emphasis on conventional attractiveness that permeated Hollywood at this time, and to this day. I mean, he’s not criticizing it, but he is pointing it out, and that’s better than nothing in the ‘90s.

Danny guides his way to Vivaldi’s house, where the butler is...Professor Toru Tanaki! He looks exactly like Odd Job from the James Bond series, but the actor is SubZero from The Running Man! You know, the hockey killer!

Anyway, after crack about Schwarzenegger’s “I’ll be back” line, a conversation with Benedict (who has a smiley face instead of a bullseye), and some terrible CGI dogs, Benedict becomes correctly convinced that something’s up with Danny. They arrive at his house, and his college-aged daughter Whitney (played by Bridgette Wilson, in her first film role in and out of the movie, in a neat little twist!) kisses Danny directly on the mouth, and I’m a liiiiiiittle uncomfortable with that. Anyway, we brush right past that, and realize that his son...died. Oh. Uh. Guess we didn’t see the end of that movie, huh? Yikes. Poor Jack.

Hey, Benedict and his gang arrive at Slater’s place! Fun! There’s a sort-of amusing play on “harming a hair on one’s head,” and the interrogation continues. Charles Dance is legitimately threatening as Benedict. And, while we’re at it, Bridgette Wilson has an entertaining action sequence all her own.

Anyway, Jack arrives, and makes a ridiculous jump off of the balcony to pursue Benedict. Benedict name drops getting a tank, which I’m assuming is named the Chekov (film trope reference there, have a good time). Danny realizes that he’s the comedy sidekick of the movie, and at this point, I need to mention something: in case you haven’t noticed, this film is delightfully meta. And I love that about it.

But it’s also...cluttered. You’ll see what I mean in a little bit, but real talk, I didn’t realize that Benedict had stolen the ticket until Danny mentioned it, because I was apparently quite distracted. And this is an important plot point, as Benedict soon realizes the true power of the ticket, cleverly overlaid by the opening to the Twilight Zone, with Rod Serling mentioning traveling to another dimension. Also...his eye was a bomb. What. Anyway, that explosion results in Slater officially getting fired from the department, and the chief...

Um. Yeah, this movie is also kind of a cartoon, not including the cartoon cat. And you have no idea how much I’m omitting from this movie. The digitization of Humphrey Bogart, the fact that Slater can’t say “fuck” in a PG-13 movie, the surprising character realization that Slater’s ex-wife is actually remarried, the clearly dominatrix cop clad in leather, the fact that there’s a plan to detonate a nerve gas-infused bomb stuffed into a dead man nicknamed Leo the Fart at his own funeral, a digitization of Humphrey Bogart. Yeah, I said that last one twice, because the effect actually holds up really well, like, seriously.

OK, let’s take a break, yeah? Part 2 later today!

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seancekitsch · 5 years

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Richie Tozier x Reader: 27 Years Later... Revamped!

You heard it here folks! I’ve updated my big Richie x Reader post to be more inclusive! The reader is now gender neutral instead of female, and I’ve mixed elements from the book and the new movie IT chapter 2! warning, i am a book purist so there are some plot elements from the book that do not occur in the movie! Enjoy!

-Growing up, you had always been Stan’s. You’d be each other’s go-to people, sometimes even closer than Richie and Eddie. He had been your perfect Boy Scout crush growing up, and after the first encounter with IT, he decided he couldn’t dance around his feelings any longer and asked you out.

-You always felt like the loser on the “outside”, you were at all group hang outs and meetings but you didn’t really hang out with anyone but Stan besides the occasional sleepover with Bev, but after Stan’s bar mitzvah that changed. Richie was the only loser to attend (besides you) and that meant a great deal to you. Despite how Stan used to get annoyed at Richie’s jokes, you always made sure to go out of your way to include him and befriend him after that day.

-Even though the losers drifted during high school, you remained Stan’s partner and Richie’s best friend besides Eddie. You had a lot more in common with Richie than you had originally thought because both of you essentially had to raise yourselves. Stan found a new found respect for the fellow loser over this connection you had.

-Stan was your first everything, from kisses to heartbreak. Yes, heartbreak. You broke up the summer before college. You were going out to California for school on an honours program and he was going to a university in Georgia with his twin sister. It was practical but it didn’t mean it didn’t sting either of you. You had promised to remain on good terms, however.

-Despite him moving on in Georgia, you never really did. He after college quickly married a woman named Patricia and settled in Atlanta. You met back up with Richie after graduation, and moved into a townhouse with him in Beverly Hills. Despite dating around, you never had much luck, probably thanks to your loud tall housemate.

-You and Richie actually flew out to Stan’s wedding, and while your first love was gone, there were no ill feelings from either of you. You shared a dance with him at the reception and told him how much you approved of his new wife. It meant a lot to him.

-After the wedding, you start to drift from Stan. Soon you don’t hear from each other at all. Richie was the only loser left for you.

-As much as he hated to say it, Richie saw this as his opportunity. You see, he had cared about you since the bar mitzvah. He knew there was someone he loved, but he couldn’t remember who. He guessed because he remembered you so vividly and nothing else, it had to be you. He was respectful of Stan and you, so he had never said anything and kept his distance. With Stan married, and Richie as your roommate (and secretly ruining most of your dates, whether he meant to or not) you were free, and he could hope you’d somehow feel the same.

-You and Richie live it up in Beverly Hills, networking and working side by side; going to celebrity parties and drinking with the big wigs.

-You’ve been tipsy and kissed at these parties, always to fend off unwanted company. It became the perfect cover and a casual display of affection for your closest friend. Despite it being a defence, you once kissed in a taxi after leaving one of these parties. It was a deep and long kiss, and there was no audience for it to be necessary, but it was never spoke of again.

-You became a writer on a semi popular TV series and Richie became a stand up comedian. While you hadn’t gone to school for writing, Richie had encouraged you to go for the job. You had always been good at writing, even minoring in it during college. He helped you prepare and edit scripts. He would even act out scenes in his famous impressions.

-Things were going so well, until one day Mike Hanlon calls. At first, you don’t even remember him until he calls you your old childhood nickname. You have to go back to Derry. IT is back.

-The plane ride is long, and both you and Richie decide to knock a few back in the airport bar and sleep it off on the flight. When you wake up at landing, your head is in the hollow of where his neck and shoulder meet and his arm is around you. Your hands are interlaced. Sure, the two of you had shared beds on road trips and when you’d travel for job auditions, but you had never really snuggled like this. You’re both blushing messes when you get to baggage claim.

-When you finally get back in town, you head straight to the Chinese restaurant in town in the car Richie rents. You recognise everyone immediately, embracing each of them with warmth and love... except for Stan who is nowhere to be seen. Mike assures you that he had contacted him.

-Despite his absence, you all enjoy dinner. You notice Bev and Bill still carry torches for one another after all these years. Ben looks amazing and seems very successful. Mike is even wiser than he was when you were all young. Eddie is still just as hyper and fun to talk to.

-After the meal, you all head off from the restaurant to talk strategy. On the walk out of the building, Bev pulls you back to walk and talk with her. It’s as if nothing has changed and you’re having a sleepover again. She specifically asks if you and Richie are a couple. When you deny this, she laughs and says that’s insane because of how you seem so in love with one another.

-You’d never say it, but you had imagined a life with Richie before. You can’t really be roommates with someone you have such a bond with without thinking of these things. But late at night when you can’t sleep you think about how nice it would be to have his arms around you, pressed into his lean and warm chest. There have been times when he’s brought people back, and he has a type in the people he brings home. A lot of them either share your name, or Eddie’s. You realize this isn’t a coincidence that you’d hear him calling out these names. Tozier sounded like a nice title to gain. It would be fun to see his last name, even hyphenated, on yours in any of your writing credits. But you’re snapped out of your thoughts the second Bev gets through on the line she’s trying to reach Stan at.

-Patricia was on the line; she said Stan had slit his wrists in the bathtub just an hour earlier. IT had been written on the wall in his blood. This makes your blood run cold. You can’t even react for a good five minutes even though everyone is watching you very carefully.

-The day you had all made that blood pact, Stan had made an off handed joke about slitting your wrists instead of just your hands. It had made you uncomfortable then, but scares the shit out of you now.

-When you finally do react, it’s like your whole world crumbles. You think you might be screaming, you know you’re definitely crying. You don’t even realize you’ve fled past all of the other losers cars until Richie’s arms are around you and he’s pressing you close to him on the curb.

-He let’s you scream it out, let’s you dig your nails into his skin until he bleeds, let’s you soak his nice dress shirt with tears and spit. Anything to comfort you and be close to you. This is the most thankful you’ve ever been for Richard Tozier.

-When you’ve stopped crying, there’s a newfound hate in your heart. You’re going to kill IT and it’s never going to hurt anyone ever again. You vow to avenge Stanley Uris. The group can’t disagree, even though half of them want to run. You all vow that before tomorrow is over, the clown will die.

-Richie and Eddie tell you how much they want to leave, and they try to get you to leave as well. But between your need for vengeance and Bill and Mike’s ranting about a strategy to kill IT, they don’t end up leaving town. That night, you can’t sleep. You aren’t sure how, maybe it’s a trick of IT’s illusions, but somehow you end up in Richie’s bed. It’s restless and you’re both terrified, but you cling together in solidarity and something stronger than lifelong friendship. But by the time he wakes you’re gone already, looking for your token to burn.

-You find it in the clubhouse, hidden behind one of the wooden boards nailed to the floor. It’s the little paper program from Stan’s bar mitzvah. An important day that quite literally changed your whole life.

-Upon returning to the townhouse, you find It nearly empty, with Eddie patching up a hole in his face. He’s mumbling something about the library while he’s finishing sanitizing his wound, so that’s where the two of you head when he’s done.

-Richie is shaken after killing Bowers, and now it’s your turn to comfort him. He shakes as you slip your arm around his, guiding him as he walks. Your other hand squeezes his bicep every few minutes to remind him to breathe. You’re here, and you’ve got him. It helps.

-Returning to Neibolt fills you with all of the memories you’d struggled to remember the day before. All of the fear and isolation of your childhood filled you so completely that you thought you could be sick. But you enter anyway, nausea and all.

-seeing IT take the form of Stan’s body is what does it for you though. You’re doubled over vomiting and crying, your hands sting against the broken glass and splinters on the floor. You’re only half aware of the chaos going around you until Richie kicks what you can only describe as a spider with Stan’s head and razor sharp teeth away from you. And then everything is so horrifyingly clear. This is only the beginning; it will get worse. When the head spider attacks Richie, you try to pull it off of him, but you aren’t strong enough. It’s up to Eddie, but Eddie is frozen.

-Down in the sewers is even worse. The fight takes a larger toll on all of you than expected. Eddie finally abandons all of the fear he cling to his entire life and charged head first into the fight, only to be stabbed through the torso and not get back up. You’re bloodied by one of IT’s claws, your wrist probably broken and one of your legs is in agony, so much so that you have to fight to stand while dodging the giant spider monster in it’s true form. All of you are injured in some way but team work weakens the creature.

-ripping out IT’s heart and destroying it should have been the end of all of the horror, and at first you think it is. You’re all relieved, until you notice Eddie hasn’t gotten up. Eddie and Richie had always had a special bond. You knew this better than anyone. He was the first one to Eddie’s side and held him as he tried to get him to respond.

-Eddie Kaspbrak is dead, and you can feel Richie’s heart breaking beside you. You hold his hand as he goes, and the rest of the losers hold each other. Richie presses a long kiss to his face, finally allowing tears to fall for the first time in the lifetime you’ve known him. It hurts even more knowing you can’t carry his body out of this place.

-As you leave the sewers, something changes. It’s as if the curse on you all has finally been lifted. You know you all have to go back to real life and finally live without fear, but fear is all any of you have ever known. The water of the quarry is healing to all of you, in the physical case of soothing aching muscles, and spiritually. It’s a rebirth.

-Richie cries again in the water, and you all come together to hold him. Under the water you feel a hand grasp yours, and you don’t even have to open your eyes to know that it’s Richies hand.

-Much to yours, and i think everyone’s surprise, Bev leaves with Ben. You could have sworn you heard her going at it with Bill the other night. Bill stays in town another week to recover before leaving and starting to work on his next novel. Mike resumes his life without the burden of watching Derry for ITs return, even more wise than he ever had been. You and Richie were another story.

-The second he saw you bleed in the sewer, he had gone berserk. Nothing else had mattered in that moment but destroying the thing that hurt you and Eddie. He knew after that he couldn’t ignore his feelings any longer. If his past love was gone, he had to pursue his future.

-He is uncharacteristically quiet on the way to the airport, and without speaking you know why. You’re all each other has now.

-He parks, gets out, walks around and opens the car door for you. Before you can reach for your suitcase, he reaches for you. The kiss is sobering yet intoxicating all at the same time. His hands rake through your hair and your arms rise up and wrap around his neck. The only reason to stop is the lack of oxygen that leaves you both dizzy. For once in your life, neither of you need to talk to be heard.

-The flight home feels weightless. You’re joking and lighthearted and giddy. If you weren’t as clear minded you could have sworn there was music in the air.

-When you arrive home, you decide to convert one of your bedrooms into a guest room. Stan’s letter to you both is framed in the living room. For once, you fall asleep peacefully. You fall asleep next to your best friend, your soulmate.

——————

Request anything you’d like to see! My ask box is open!

#my work #richie x reader #richie tozier x reader #richie tozier #it chapter 2

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fromtheringapron · 4 years

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WCW Halloween Havoc 1999

Date: October 24, 1999.

Location: MGM Grand Garden Arena in Las Vegas, Nevada.

Attendance: 8,464.

Commentary: Tony Schiavone and Bobby Heenan.

Results:

1. WCW Cruiserweight Championship Match: Disco Inferno (champion) defeated Lash LeRoux.

2. Street Fight for the vacant WCW World Tag Team Championship: Harlem Heat (Booker T and Stevie Ray) defeated The First Family (Hugh Morrus and Brian Knobbs) (with Jimmy Hart) and The Filthy Animals (Billy Kidman and Konnan) to win the titles.

3. Eddie Guerrero defeated Perry Saturn via disqualification.

4. Brad Armstrong defeated Berlyn (with The Wall).

5. WCW World TV Championship Match: Rick Steiner (champion) defeated Chris Benoit.

6. Lex Luger (with Miss Elizabeth) defeated Bret Hart.

7. WCW World Heavyweight Championship Match: Sting (champion) defeated Hulk Hogan.

8. WCW United States Championship Match: Goldberg defeated Sid Vicious (champion) via TKO to win the title.

9. Strap Match: Diamond Dallas Page (with Kimberly) defeated Ric Flair.

10. WCW World Heavyweight Championship Match: Goldberg defeated Sting (champion) to win the title.

My Review

WCW was rapidly spinning out of control by the time of Halloween Havoc 1999, but a new beginning seemed to be on the horizon. Vince Russo, the man who spearheaded the Attitude Era in the WWF, joined the writing team right before the show, with hopes he’d add a spark to a product that’d become convoluted and stale. Russo certainly did bring a spark; the only problem is that he wound up burning down the whole house with it. Halloween Havoc 1999 may have only just been the start of this new era, but it’s got Russo’s fingerprints all over it and, holy shit, does it go off the rails in a hurry.

In a way, Halloween Havoc and Russo’s swerve-laden booking seem like the perfect match. If there’s one event where he could go balls to the wall with crash TV and gimmickry, it’s gotta be Havoc, and heavens knows the depths of absurdism WCW reached at the event in the years before Russo anyway. Unfortunately, the ‘99 Havoc features one of Russo’s worst booking caveats⏤the worked shoot. This would happen several times throughout his tenure in WCW, each more embarrassing than the last, but his obsession with “going off the script” starts here.

The show starts conventionally enough, but it takes a hard left turn into near indescribable chaos. Midway through, we have a match between Hulk Hogan and Sting, a main event match that’s bound to draw no matter how many times it happens. But, alas, there’s a twist: Hogan “lies” down for Sting and the match ends in 3 seconds. It’s then given zero explanation or follow-up for the rest of the show, leaving the audience confused and downright angry. Even when you look past they just pissed away a match people were paying money to see, it feels like a desperate attempt to create controversy just to pop some interest in the next night’s Nitro. I don’t think Hogan “lying down” was ever explained on WCW TV though, which just makes the whole thing worse.

If that weren’t enough, the commentators and performers are constantly bringing up “the writers from up North” and the “powers that be.” It’s deliberately meant to be a wink at the audience, who are likely rolling their eyes so hard that you can practically hear it. It’s all just a way of saying “Get it? This is a bunch of fake shit. You’re watching a bunch of fakers. But this right here? This is real.” The reality is that it’s actually just embarrassing, not that Russo ever caught on. There’s still plenty of other swerves throughout the night, including a surprise Sting vs. Goldberg main event. The crowd in Las Vegas seems to dig it, at least. Too bad it’s practically impossible to connect the dots on how we even got the damn match in the first place!

Halloween Havoc 1999 is exactly the kind of madness you can expect from WCW’s annual schlockfest, but it’s even more confounding and inexplicable this time out. I guess the nicest thing I can say is that the show certainly isn’t boring. The bad part is that the fun often gives way to frustration, filling this Halloween Havoc up with more tricks than treats.

My Random Notes

On WCW Nitro for Men Cologne: Okay, I’m completely befuddled by this. I can’t imagine a grown ass adult actually purchasing it, let alone a 14-year-old. Beyond that, they have a segment on this show where Medusa and Bobby Heenan basically tell us it’s shit?

Lash LeRoux, in his ongoing quest to carve out an identity for himself, wears a dreadful Lash Vegas shirt to the ring. I’d like to think he immediately discarded it after this show and never wore it again.

Buff Bagwell takes one of the worst guitar shots I’ve ever seen. It just kinda bonks over his head. I do wonder what level of craft goes into creating a gimmicked guitar, though.

The Halloween Havoc graveyard in this outing features a headstone shared by The Boston Strangler and Jack the Ripper. Yes, folks, that’s right: The Ripper was not only identified, but also shares the same grave with another serial killer at MGM in Las Vegas. The more you know!

I haven’t seen enough of them to judge, but Revolution are pretty much like the Radicals just without Eddie, no?

Eddie stealing Ric Flair’s Rolex was a storyline at this time, apparently. It’s another example of Russo stuffing in too many storylines, but I do low-key appreciate it’s not the only documented time Eddie has stolen from Flair, must we not forget the time he stole Flair’s number at Royal Rumble ’05.

We get a quick shot of a Hogan WWF wrestling buddy in the crowd, which reminds me that I have the Warrior and Macho King ones smoldering up in my attic somewhere.

Shoutout to the show’s poster, which gives me strong Animorphs vibes and Scholastic Book Fair memories. There was also the Nickelodeon show I barely watched? I just remember there was some dude named Tobias on it.

In Russo’s obsession with confused sexual analogies, DDP delivers a promo where he winds up landing on him and Flair jerking off together. Um, okay. Not gonna try to unpack that. Happy for you tho. Or sorry that happened.

Pretty crazy to think Bret vs. Luger would’ve been an absolutely money program just five years earlier when both were headlining WrestleMania X, and now they’re here just in this 7-minute drivel of a match. I know I shouldn’t be surprised, as both were at a radically different point in their respective careers by this time, but I find their showing here depressing as fuck.

#wwe network #halloween havoc #wcw #wrestling #halloween #wwe nxt #goldberg

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hatmanreviewsmovies · 4 years

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The Trial of the Chicago 7

Hat 1- Story: A chronicle and dramatization of the 1968 anti Vietnam riots and the trial that followed, this film is a respectful and honest depiction of an era. It delves into the court hearings, incorporating the original transcripts, and takes us to the moments outside the court as well as reflecting back on the events that got us to this point. The story takes no sides, showing how terribly these defendants were treated as well as how complicated their own situation was. It takes the time to show us they were neither angels nor demons, and explores both concepts, while remaining true to the story its telling. That being said, it has its flaws. The most interesting element of this story, that of Bobby Seale, the Black Panthers member who was shunted into this trial while having no involvement, is again shunted to the background of this film, getting several juicy moments but very little coverage to his actual story. There are also moments when the clear and focused filter this story is fed through gets rosy and sentimental when it shouldn’t, tarnishing the good work that is being done here. For the most part however, very nice work .75/1 hat

Hat 2- Performances: This is a fantastic, world class selection of actors across the board. There is no weak link anywhere when it comes to the quality of performances. The difficulty comes here. The two most featured characters are Eddie Redmayne’s Tom Hayden and Sacha Baron Cohen’s Abbie Hoffman, are two men who are meant to be young, passionate activists. But both of them are too old for their roles, and the passion of youth doesn’t read as dramatically as it could. THE best performances here are Yahya Abdul-Mateen II as Bobby Seale, and Mark Rylance as William Kunstler. Both of these men are perfect for their roles, and rise to the top with perfect power and punch as is needed. The whole cast does a great job, and the slight discordances in casting of main characters is counter balanced with the magnificent supporting roles. .75/1 hat Hat 3- Craft: Alright, we all know Aaron Sorkin is a fantastic writer. And this may be some of his best work in a decade. He finds a way to weave fact and dramatization together in a classic orchestral dialogue way, and it’s great, he may have his next writing Oscar in the bag. You know what Sorkin isn’t? A director. It goes by the strength of the actors in this film and the strength of the script beneath it, along with a clear vision and good people around him that this film works. The directing here is not great, and the moments when sentimentality tints this film’s clear focus are symptoms of a director getting in his own way. It doesn’t ruin the work being done around him, but it does hinder what could have been an even more tense, even more powerful film than we already get. .75/1 hat

Hat 4- Entertainment Value: This film is absolutely riveting. If you can get past the age thing I mentioned earlier and look at this fantastic acting with an incredible script, you get to witness unbelievable storytelling. Could it have gone further, yes. Do I wish it had gone all the way in the court scenes, yes. But what we have is a world class selection of actors with great material doing everything they can to tell this story as truly as they can. And it is marvelous to see. 1/1 hat Hat 5- Memorability: This is as much a historical document as it is a showcase of fantastic story telling. There are performances in here that are as human and powerful as it gets, and this writing is crisp, honest and focused. Across the board its practiced work by practiced artists and should stand as a perfect depiction of this moment in history. It needs to be seen now more than ever. 1/1 hat TOTAL: 4.25/5 hats

#trial of the chicago 7 #review

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brokehorrorfan · 4 years

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Blu-ray Review: Big Trouble in Little China

While cinephiles reflect on John Carpenter's output from the '70s and '80s with great reverence - some might argue that it's an unparalleled run of genre classics - many of his films were considered failures upon initial release due to a lack of commercial success. The Thing is the most well-documented example, but Big Trouble in Little China suffered a similar fate. Produced by 20th Century Fox, the film's domestic gross of $11.1 million only covered about half of its budget, and the critical reception was mixed.

Disillusioned by the Hollywood system, the production influenced Carpenter to return to his independent roots, where he would stay for much of the remainder of his career. But, like many of the master of horror's works, Big Trouble found a cult audience through television and home video. Difficult to classify, the genre-bending adventure combines elements of action (martial arts, no less), comedy, fantasy, horror, western, and even a dash of romance.

The film follows swaggering truck driver Jack Burton (Kurt Russell, The Thing), who finds big trouble while passing through California's Chinatown. He becomes mixed up with Lo Pan (James Hong, Blade Runner), an ancient, evil sorcerer with a legion of warrior followers. Burton has a crew of his own, including his newfound love interest, Gracie Law (Kim Cattrall, Sex and the City); his friend with a vendetta against Lo Pan, Wang Chi (Dennis Dun, Prince of Darkness); and Egg Shen (Victor Wong, 3 Ninjas), who shares his expertise in magic.

Big Trouble in Little China plays out like John Carpenter's answer to Indiana Jones. In lesser hands, it would be little more than a campy B-movie, but Carpenter's unique lens elevates the material without losing the quirkiness. Aside from a plot that's more complicated than it needs to be, this is the closest Carpenter ever came to making a children's movie, complete with an extremely '80s end credit theme song performed by The Coupe De Villes (consisting of Carpenter and filmmaking friends Nick Castle and Tommy Lee Wallace).

The screenplay began as a cowboy western that incorporated Chinese fantasy elements, written by first-timers Gary Goldman (Total Recall) and David Z. Weinstein, before script doctor W.D. Richter (Invasion of the Body Snatchers) adapted it from the Old West to a contemporary setting. When it came time to shoot, Carpenter smartly solicited input from the Asian cast and crew members to ensure well-rounded portrayals rather than stereotypes.

The introduction of Chinese mysticism allows for the inclusion of monsters, which were created by Steve Johnson (Ghostbusters, Species). The special effects guru was initially disappointed to have to make cartoony characters, per Carpenter's request - but, after seeing the final product, he conceded that the filmmaker was right. The creatures are not a far cry from Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles villains, but there's a charm to them that fits the picture's atypical tone.

Jack Burton is ostensibly the prototypical action hero, as the story is framed around him. Upon closer inspection, however, the character is little more than a bumbling sidekick to Wang Chi, who actually knows what he's doing. Burton serves as the voice of the Western audience, ignorant of the mythology and incredulous to the sorcery. Russell, in his fourth of five collaborations with Carpenter, tackles the charismatic part with aplomb.

Big Trouble in Little China has received a new Collector's Edition Blu-ray courtesy of Shout Factory. It's available in both standard and limited edition Steelbook packaging with artwork by Laz Marquez and Nathanael Marsh, respectively. In their final collaboration, Carpenter and longtime cinematographer Dean Cundey's (Halloween, Jurassic Park) widescreen visuals shine even more in high definition, utilizing an existing transfer that’s sharp.

The first of two discs features three audio commentaries, two of which are new. The first is more of an extended interview with producer Larry Franco, hosted by special features producer Justin Beahm. Rarely mentioning what's on screen, they discuss Franco's entire career - including his lengthy stint on Carpenter film's from Elvis to They Live - in chronological order. The second new track finds Johnson in conversation with Sharknado filmmaker Anthony C. Ferrante. Thanks to Johnson's unfiltered nature, it's a fascinating and entertaining chat in which he divulges that he funded his early makeup supplies by selling marijuana, beer, and shoplifted goods to friends.

An archival commentary with Carpenter and Russell, recorded circa 2001, is full of laughs between the two friends. They poke fun at the fact that the movies they do together don't catch on until later, while Carpenter acknowledges that the Big Trouble set was reused in Janet Jackson's "When I Think of You" music video. An isolated score track, featuring 5.1 DTS-HD Master Audio of the synth soundtrack composed by Carpenter in association with regular collaborator Alan Howarth (They Live, Christine), is also available.

The first disc also includes: a vintage audio interview with Carpenter promoting the film; electronic press kit interviews with Carpenter, Russell, Dun, Cattrall, Hong, and visual effects artist Richard Edlund (Star Wars); deleted and extended scenes, including the extended ending; a gag reel; the Coupe De Villes' music video, which somehow makes the song feel even more overtly '80s; three theatrical trailers, one of which is in Spanish; five TV spots; and three photo galleries: movie stills, posters and lobby cards, and behind-the-scenes pictures.

The second disc contains a whopping twelve new interviews with cast and crew members. Dunn discusses his transition from marketing student to actor on a whim. Hong, equipped with a paper fan that he puts to good use when discussing Big Trouble, calls Lo Pan one of his best roles. Actor Donald Li, noting the stereotypical nature of most Asian roles in Hollywood, says he identified with his happy-go-lucky character of Eddie Lee. Actor Carter Wong discusses how his martial arts training led to a film career and his explosive death scene as Thunder. Actor Peter Kwong, who plays Rain, details the racial prejudices he faced early in his career, driving his aspirations to spread a message of humanity rather than race. Actor Al Leong, who plays the Hatchet Man, is animated in his praise for Carpenter.

Richter details how he turned the original period western script into a contemporary film. Goldman provides additional context to the earlier script, including original scenes that were modernized. Martial arts choreographer James Lew explains how he was drawn to martial arts because he saw Asian representation in Bruce Lee films. Castle - best known for playing Michael Myers in Halloween and co-writing Escape from New York - tells more of his origins and musical background that led to The Coupe De Villes. Wallace - who directed Halloween III and It - calls music his first love as he discusses his lifelong friendship with Carpenter, including their earlier musical collaborations. Legendary poster artist Drew Struzan (Star Wars, Indiana Jones, Harry Potter) shares his fascinating backstory and admits that he posed for his own reference photo for Kurt Russell's body on the poster.

Although they did not participate in new extras, 2013 interviews with Carpenter and Russell offer their recent thoughts on the project. The straight-talking Carpenter is open about his unpleasant experience dealing with the studio, while Russell looks back on his Carpenter collaboration with fondness but reveals that the studio intentionally buried the release. There's also interviews from the same period with Cundey, who briefly touches on his many Carpenter collaborations; Franco, which features a lot of the same information from the commentary; and stuntman/actor Jeff Imada. Extras are rounded out by an archival interview with Endlund, who breaks down several visual effect gags, and a vintage making-of featurette.

Big Trouble in Little China is available now on Blu-ray and Steelbook via Scream Factory.

#big trouble in little china #john carpenter #kurt russell #kim cattrall #james hong #jack burton #victor wong #dennis dun #scream factory #dvd #gift #article #review #dean cundey #laz marquez

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rantshemlock · 5 years

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It: Chapter 2

It: Chapter 2 is an almost three hour movie in which just about nothing of value happens

this review contains implied spoilers for the movie! if that bothers you, don’t read ahead.

It (2017) had some incredible setpieces with brilliant monster designs and fantastic practical effects, bolstered by a couple of excellent performances from the show-stealing Finn Wolfhard and Jack Dylan Grazer, along with an outstanding performance by Bill Skarsgard as Pennywise. this, and the simplicity of the plot, make up for the fact that the character writing was often shallow and the dialogue laden with exposition.

It: Chapter 2 has almost all of those qualities, but also one major flaw: it's a bad movie.

there’s a lot to unpack when it comes to why exactly It 2 is such an extreme drop in quality to the first movie; the biggest is the story, which is a mish-mash of new footage of the child actors and the characters as adults, and is probably the biggest pisstake in film history in terms how much of an extreme waste of time it is. for a film to so thoroughly enforce the idea that the characters’ actions are pointless and serve nothing is unbelievable. as a movie that should be a triumphant ending to the saga, we’re given what is explicitly told to us to be pointless.

It 2′s sin is that it doesn’t build up to anything. not storybeats, not relationships, often not even scares. things are laughably obviously telegraphed, even more so than It 2017′s often heavy-handed exposition. the movie wants us to care about the characters because of their past together, but rather than building off the first film’s two hours of story it instead patches in new settings and scenes that no viewer has any attachment to.

“remember the club house? you love the club house!” the film says, showing us to a set we’ve never seen before and have no reason to care about other than it dictates we have to now care about it. the first movie was incredibly well received and is now beloved, it has more than enough emotional moments to build off of, but the film rejects all that in favour of bringing up new ideas, new concepts that hardly get built upon. it demands you care, but doesn’t earn that compassion or attention.

unresolved issues is the name of the game in this movie; characters are constantly shown to have problems, huge, serious problems. Beverly is being abused by her husband, something we’re shown in overly graphic detail. Mike is suffering from untold trauma from standing vigil over Derry for years. Bill is fucking up his movie and his relationship with his wife. Richie is living a lie, deep within the closet. what’s most egregious is not just that these issues don’t get resolved, but that they never get addressed.

we are meant to believe that these characters care about each other, care deeply, have a connection that would drive them to die for each other, but no one notices that Bev is covered with bruises and is desperately avoiding home. no one questions Mike’s erratic, terrified behaviour. Bill forgets his wife exists. as i watched the movie i found myself asking, if Ben loves Beverly so much, why can’t he see her pain?

in the first movie, the characters’ issues were deeply entrenched in their psyche, were part of what Pennywise used to manipulate and attack them. in this movie, they haven’t moved on from their childhood issues and their adult issues are merely tacked on, lip service to the idea that they have grown up but a refusal to actually spend time examining what their issues as adults are. all the characters are suffering in some way, but they never share these things. for all their love and trust, they never developed past their childhood and they never learned how to be adults. their arcs from the first movie are reset completely; their development in that film never happened. for how little that film ties into this one and how much this one wants to retell history with new content, it might as well not have existed at all.

if It: Chapter 2 lacks anything, it’s tact. it’s carelessly violent and shallow, throwing around horrifying concepts and spending no time to flesh them out. while the idea in the book that Pennywise’s presence leads to more violence, abuse and bigotry deserves criticism, this film manages to do an even worse job. what in the book might be questionable and in need of updating becomes uncomfortable and thoughtless in the movie. the gay hate crime at the film is one of the most prominent examples; always a horrifying thing to read in the movie it serves even less purpose, exposes even less about the town, adds nothing, means nothing. goes nowhere.

let’s talk about being gay. let’s talk about Richie.

here’s a fun fact; discounting Nightmare on Elm Street 2 (as painful as it is for me to say this, as someone who fucking adores that movie) It: Chapter 2 is the first horror movie in a big franchise to have a gay hero, unless there’s some information i really badly need to be updated on. making Richie gay was a good move, and i think Richie was the perfect character to pick for it. he’s by far one of the two most likeable characters in the film, the most memorable, gets the best moments and the best lines.

but the conclusion the film gives him, combined with the hate crime earlier in the movie, after he spends the entire film in the closet letting no one know he is suffering, is that he will never be happy. he can’t open up to anyone about what he’s feeling; he never tells any of the others, even Eddie, the character strongly implied to be the love of his life. while Ben and Beverly are given one of the best and most visually striking setpieces of the film to reunite in, there is no such moment for Eddie and Richie. there is no catharsis for either of them.

while making Richie gay was an excellent idea, to try and throw a bone to us starving gays to have someone to cling to, but the ending of the movie left me feeling completely hollow. i did not want my takeaway from his character to be that he is traumatised beyond the point of any healing.

the politics of gay representation in this movie are bad, and so is race.

Stephen King is a writer with a dirty reputation for his habit of using “native americans” as shorthand for something magic and not understandable, and this film manages to not only dig up the few traces of this from the book but also make it worse, turning the ritual of chud (something that the book implied only worked because the characters believed in it and had no tie to native americans) into the act of ignorant, misinformed indigenous people who get not a single line to explain or defend themselves but are only allowed to be set dressing to later be ridiculed and demonised.

Mike, the sole black character of the movie, is served horribly in this film. while in the novel he was one of the most important characters, a thoughtful librarian and historian carefully gathering the history of Derry to research the truth of It’s influence, he was given no screen time in the first movie and in this one is the detested outsider of the group. he is pushed into the position of mentor and guide, rather than friend, and comes across almost like the old stereotype of the magical black character, someone who is only there to provide guidance to the white leads through insight he mysteriously and magically possesses. the film stripped away his position as historian and researcher from the first movie and now scrambles to make up for that, leaving him without the history and characterisation to allow us to understand who and why he is.

on top of this, despite the enormity of his sacrifice to stay in Derry and the clear mental strain it’s put him through -- Isaiah Mustafa gives Mike more depth and thought than anyone else did and brings in his performance layers of subtlety this film doesn’t deserve -- the other characters are mocking and derisive of his attempts, don’t trust him and accuse him repeatedly of lying to and betraying them. these moments go nowhere, also. he is always immediately ‘forgiven’ without any thought as to his own suffering or the continual selflessness of his actions. he’s the thoughtless punchbag to a film in which the character continually martyrs himself for the comfort of others.

he isn’t even given the dignity of being called the leader of the group, despite doing everything for them and coming up with every idea. for some reason, the leader is nominated as Bill, despite James McAvoy’s performance being lackluster to the point of fading into the background entirely and the character of Bill doing next to nothing in the film at all.

but again -- the characters in It are not allowed to care about each other’s pain and suffering outside of a few moments. they come with their mental turmoil and they are either completely cured of it or allowed to remain in it, unmentioned again.

there’s not a bad actor in this -- James Ransone is astonishingly good, pitch-perfectly recreating Jack Dylan Grazer’s every mannerism, Bill Hader is both funny and heart-rendering when needed, Isaiah Mustafa moves mountains to make the script give him some depth, and Bill Skarsgard is again incredible as Pennywise -- but there’s also not an actor who isn’t horribly, horribly maligned by the script. Jessica Chastain, an actress of tremendous power and presence, is given next to nothing to do or say. more thought and care is given to Stephen King’s cameo as a shop owner than the role of Henry Bowers.

the film has its moments. Richie and Eddie are a delight, and the monster design and practical effects are again top of the line. it’s just a painful shame that so much talent and craft, the skills of the incredible artists and designers, the hard work of the enthusiastic and engaged cast and the intricacy of the sets are wasted on a movie that has no direction, no idea where it’s going and no point to make about anything.

also, it’s pretty fucking galling for a movie to continually make jokes about how despised a writer’s endings are only for it to take the far better ending of the book and discard it for something so ridiculous it was a strain not to laugh in the theatre.

It: Chapter 2 has no reason to be as bad as it is, but all the goodwill in the world can’t save a story this fragile, this pointless, and that refuses to engage with any of the subject it brings up to this degree. It wants us to take it very seriously indeed, but there’s nothing here to latch onto; this movie is someone screaming ‘oh the horror’ in a beautiful room filled with set dressings that crumble to ash.

#rantsfilmwatch #my writing #it 2017 #it chapter 2 #justice for richie :(

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useless-blog-dont-bother · 5 years

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NYGMOBBLEPOT THE MUSICAL - THE SCRIPT

Disclaimer: I swear I’m not on crack. It’s just that I write this when I desperately want and need to sleep but just can’t. And of course I don’t own any of the songs, nor the characters. And no it’s not the regular writing style, it’s written like a script.

PART 1

SCENE 1 – STREETS OF GOTHAM

The streets of Gotham are busy as usual. Some say the hectic streets of this city are a literal madhouse. But those people obviously never set foot in a real madhouse and especially not in the hell reserved for the criminally insane: ‘Arkham Asylum’. And yet they’re complaining.

GOTHAMITES: There’s a hole in the world like a great black pit,

And the vermin of the world inhabit it,

And its morals aren’t worth what a pig could spit,

And it goes by the name of Gotham…

At the top of the hole sit a privileged few,

Making mock of the vermin in the lower zoo,

Turning beauty into filth and greed…

And if you’ve sailed the world and seen its wonders,

You’ll know the cruelty of men is as wondrous as Peru,

But there’s no place like Gotham!

A kid, her backpack on one shoulder, is on her way home after a long day at Gotham High. A grown man pushes her and snatches her backpack.

KID (on the ground): Ugh, not again!

That kid is actually lucky, being robbed isn’t the worst thing that could have happened there. But it is the third time this month that she loses her bag. Only in Gotham.

SCENE 2 – OUTSIDE THE ICEBERG LOUNGE

Two men are getting out of a club called the Iceberg Lounge. A limousine is waiting for them.

EDWARD (about to open the limousine door): I’ll get the door!

OSWALD (going in the limousine): Oh, you’ll get much more!

BOTH: Either way we can’t go wrong…

With how shamelessly and how famously we’re both just getting along…

The smallest of the pair takes his partner’s hand and eagerly pulls him inside the limousine.

BOTH: We’re get, get, getting, get, get, getting, getting along!

OSWALD: So, what have you planned? I’m confident you didn’t make me close the lounge and got us the limo for nothing.

EDWARD (talking fast): We haven’t had date night in a while so I thought we, you know, we might as well make it a bit fancier than usual since it hasn’t happened in days, in weeks actually because of the lounge and the occasional robberies and the meetings and –

OSWALD (amused): Slow down, Ed.

EDWARD (blushing as he adjusts his glasses): I – Sorry, I –

OSWALD: No need to apologize, nor explain. I know how that brain of yours can be sometimes.

EDWARD: Hey!

OSWALD: You know I didn’t mean that in an offensive way. And you know I love everything about you. From your schemes to escape the GCPD to your way of fidgeting with your glasses when you’re nervous.

EDWARD: Everything? Even the riddles?

OSWALD: Especially the riddles.

EDWARD (chuckling): Now you’re just lying to make me feel better, Oswald.

OSWALD (smiling): What? No, I’d never do that.

SCENE 3 - RESTAURANT

Oswald and Ed are sitting at the best table of an expensive restaurant.

OSWALD: You really weren’t kidding when you said ‘fancier’.

EDWARD: Only the best for you.

OSWALD (resting a hand on Ed’s hand): For us, dear.

EDWARD: He’s touching my hand…

OSWALD: He’s looking kind of funny…

EDWARD: Wait, he knows I’m gonna propose?

OSWALD: Is this because I touched his hand?

EDWARD: Well, I guess…

OSWALD: Well, I guess…

BOTH: I’ll just go with it…

EDWARD: The very first time I saw you,

A very long time ago,

I have to admit,

I liked you a bit,

But I didn’t want you to know.

OSWALD: When we were roommates,

All I could do was stare,

And I can’t refute,

You looked pretty cute,

Tying that guy to a chair.

BOTH: I guess we’re doing this,

See that look in your eyes,

How could I resist?

It’s meant to be because we’re allies,

Time to move in for a kiss,

Just go with it and don’t ask why,

I guess we’re doing this…

WAITER: Are you, sirs, ready to order? Oh, I’m awfully sorry. It seems I’ve forgotten to give you the wine card earlier. I’ll be back in a second with it.

OSWALD: Well he couldn’t have had a worst timing. Where were we?

EDWARD (standing): I – I have to go to the restroom.

OSWALD (winking): Want me to accompany you?

EDWARD (laughing as he turns red): N – No, I’ll be back in a second.

SCENE 4 – MEN’S RESTROOM

Edward is muttering to himself while frantically washing his hands. As he looks up at his reflection in the mirror, Edward gasps.

THE RIDDLER: Long time no see, right?

ED: I thought I was done with you.

THE RIDDLER: If you really wanted to be done with me, you shouldn’t have taken those pills earlier.

ED: It was to help me with –

THE RIDDLER: Yes, I already know. Too nervous to propose to Pengy. We share a brain, you know?

ED: No, we don’t share a brain. You’re a figment of my imagination, an hallucination due to pills I should definitely throw away.

THE RIDDLER (resting a hand on Ed’s shoulder): Oh please, I’ve been in your head way before you started taking those pills. And I’m much more than a mere hallucination. I’m you and I want to help you, to help us.

ED (adjusting his glasses): Do you think he knows?

THE RIDDLER: Well, you did force him to close the lounge for the night and dragged him to Gotham’s fanciest restaurant. And I’m sure he’s aware that it’s been exactly a year since he’s been released from Blackgate.

ED: Oh crud…

THE RIDDLER: Also, another dead giveaway. Just look at us.

ED (dabbing his forehead with his handkerchief): Yes, I know.

THE RIDDLER (mockingly): We look like we just ran a marathon! I’ve never seen us sweat that much. And, Christ, quit blushing each time he looks at you.

ED: You’re really not helping.

THE RIDDLER (with a sly smile): You’re right. But maybe -

ED: Don’t even think about it.

THE RIDDLER: You really think the stuttering mess that you are is gonna be able to pop the question?

Ed briefly stares in the mirror before looking down. The Riddler’s smile grows bigger.

THE RIDDLER: I thought so.

ED: It’s such a bad idea…

THE RIDDLER: It’s a brilliant idea. Let me help you, Ed. We want the same thing, we’re the same. I’m just, well, stronger.

All your nerdiness is ugly,

All your stammering’s a chore,

Your tics and fidgets are persistent,

And your charm is non-existent,

Fix your vibe then fix some more.

ED: But -

THE RIDDLER: Oh, everything about you is so terrible,

Oh, everything about you makes me wanna die.

ED: Jesus Christ…

THE RIDDLER: So, don’t freak out,

And don’t resist,

And have no doubt,

If I assist,

You will be more chill.

ED: Alright. But you better not mess this up. I -

THE RIDDLER: Don’t worry, Eddie. Penguin’s wrapped around our finger anyway. He would never say no.

Ed sighs as his doppelgänger disappears. He is about to walk up to the door but he decides to glance one last time at his reflection. He smirks. The Riddler has taken over.

EDWARD: Let’s get to work.

#gotham #oswald cobblepot #edward nygma #nygmobblepot #nygmobblepot the musical

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marshmallowgoop · 5 years

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Okay, so I keep seeing all this stuff about how the 2018 film Venom is just a live-action Kill la Kill, but most of the time, this content winds up being another usage of the “In this essay I will” meme.

And, like, yes, I admit, I haven’t even seen Venom and really ain’t too familiar with Venom lore, but I WILL FINISH THE ESSAY ANYWAY.

First, lemme get the basics outta the way. Venom, just like Kill la Kill, involves a protagonist (Eddie, Ryuko) bonding with a space alien outfit (Venom, Senketsu). While the alien is viewed as a dangerous parasite, the protagonist becomes much stronger from the partnership, and together, the two are able to battle the various threats around them.

But while, say, the Spider-Man 3 adaptation of the Venom story didn’t really go much further than that sorta basic outline, it seems that the 2018 film takes the concept of a human/alien connection to a whole ‘nother level. Just as in numerous comics, movie!Venom is not depicted as little more than a monstrous power-up with zero personality besides “evilz”; they, like Senketsu in Kill la Kill, are a sentient, sapient, and emotional character in their own right. And, as @agendervenom argues in this fantastic post (which is also where I am getting all of these Venom comics images from, thank you!), Eddie and Venom “consider their entire story in the comics to be a love story.”

Which is also super the vibe I’m getting from this latest flick.

I mean, like. Most everything I see about the film is that it’s a love story between Eddie and Venom and a goofy rom-com and Venom is the Best Monster Boyfriend and... yeah. If the Venom comics are a love story more than anything else, it seems like there’s a hecka lotta consensus that the recent movie is the same way.

It’s not as easy to make a similar case for Kill la Kill. Everyone kinda has a different idea of what the show is all about, and these ideas can be anything from a warning about wearable technology to some giant metaphor about puberty.

But. Look. Kill la Kill has been described by its head scriptwriter, Kazuki Nakashima, to be his attempt to “make a form of intimacy that transcends love and species.”

And IN THIS ESSAY I WILL ACTUALLY contend that Ryuko and Senketsu’s relationship—just like Eddie and Venom’s in Venom—forms the heart of the whole narrative.

So, yes, this post is going exactly where you think it’s going. Controversial titty anime Kill la Kill is literally a love story between a teenage girl and her alien shirt, and if you don’t believe me, consider the following:

✄ The cover art for the final volume of the series (pictured at the top of this post)—or, you know, the number-one thing that the show wants you to take away from it—is an illustration of Ryuko and Senketsu wrapped in a tender embrace, presumably just about to Synchronize and become one. To further bring my point home, this image is constantly featured on the homepage for the official Kill la Kill website.

✄ (Plus, an earlier draft that character designer Sushio drew (pictured just above) is maybe even more intimate and adorable.)

✄ In Nakashima’s comments for the final episode in The Complete Script Book, he notes that he felt the story had to end with Ryuko saying goodbye to Senketsu because it began with the two saying hello.

✄ Which, I mean, is a pretty blatant acknowledgment that Kill la Kill is ultimately all about Ryuko and Senketsu’s bond.

✄ And while voice actors are generally largely uninvolved in the writing of a TV series and can’t exactly state any “canon” information, Ami Koshimizu, Ryuko’s VA, has argued for the significance of Ryuko and Senketsu’s partnership herself, saying, “Senketsu and Ryuko are like family, like friends, like lovers, are in a very comfortable/close-fitting relationship. Had they both been human, it would not have been possible for them to have this relationship. I think that is what this wonderful work depicted.” (Emphasis added.)

In short? Maybe Ryuko and Senketsu don’t get a cute fairytale ending with a little heart like Eddie and Venom do in one of the comics, but it’s kinda undeniable that their love for each other is just as crucial to Kill la Kill as Eddie and Venom’s love for each other is to Venom comics and the new film. In both cases, that human/alien connection is legitimately the bread and butter of the story.

And the similarities don’t end there. Oh, no. The human/alien connections here also resemble each other greatly.

Eddie/Venom: We are two-in-one, Hawk.

Ryuko: No. Senketsu and I are two in one.

Again, I haven’t seen the movie, so I’m gonna rely on comics caps from here on out, but given that Venom appears to follow the main comics story of the alien symbiote much more closely than, say, that aforementioned Spider-Man 3, I figure that the film can’t be too far off.

And in the comics? Eddie and Venom say the exact same thing about their relationship as Ryuko says about hers with Senketsu: they’re two in one.

And I am just scratching the surface.

Venom: Where we bonded, Eddie. Just like marriage.

Senketsu: This is literally Life Fiber Synchronization!

Venom and Eddie’s relationship gets compared to marriage in the comics, and while it’s hard to capture in just a single image from Kill la Kill, there is some pretty in-your-face wedding and marriage symbolism regarding Ryuko and Senketsu’s relationship, too. Their act of coming together is termed Jin-I-Ittai, and though this was officially translated as “Life Fiber Synchronization,” it can be more literally translated as “Human-Clothing Unity.” Given the connotations that “union” has with marriage, and that a similar alien to Senketsu is quite literally described as a “wedding dress,” which Ryuko also quite literally tears off of her body and consequently drenches herself in her own blood so that she can reunite with Senketsu... yeah.

Just like Eddie and Venom, what Ryuko and Senketsu have is akin to marriage, but it’s also way, way more than that.

Eddie/Venom: —married in a way no human can ever under—whoa!

Ryuko: I’d rather be dead! I have to take this [wedding dress] off even if I die! Because if I don’t... I won’t be able to wear Senketsu again!

And I can keep going.

Eddie: I used to hate going to the movies alone. That was before the other and I found each other. Now, I’m never alone. Life doesn’t give you many happy endings like that.

Ryuko: We’re not the same. I’m not alone. Senketsu and I fight together!

Both Eddie and Ryuko emphasize how they’re never alone and always have their alien by their side; even the short trailer for the upcoming Kill la Kill video game stresses this point, which is perhaps especially noteworthy because the game’s story is actually focused on another character altogether.

And while Ryuko and Senketsu may not go on lovey-dovey dates together in-series, there is an official card where they hold hands just like Venom and Eddie do at the movies in the comics, happily frolicking around together in what’s legitimately, seriously titled “Senketsu’s Date with Ryuko.”

(Plus, there was even a whole figure made outta this date image. So. You know.)

And I can go on some more.

Eddie: Yeah... Ohhhh, yeah. That’s it, baby. Wrap those tentacles around me.

Senketsu: We’ve never been so in sync before! Right now, you and I are one! This is literally Life Fiber Synchronization!

Ryuko: You can say that again! Doesn’t this feel awesome?!

Both Eddie/Venom and Ryuko/Senketsu have fusion sequences that ain’t at all shy about playing up the innuendo that comes along with, well, two characters “becoming one.” In one scene, Eddie loves the feel of Venom’s tentacles around him. In another, Ryuko cherishes her connection with Senketsu and starts glowing after expressing how good the sensation of being Synced with him is.

But, you know, it’s sweet! These aren’t just dirty jokes. They are expressions of these characters loving each other and loving being together.

And, like. I could really go on and on here, folks.

I could talk about how Venom declares that no one will break the bond they have with Eddie, just like how Senketsu raps in his duet with Ryuko (which is also the main theme of the show, btw) that they should “let no one break the bond that is [theirs]”:

Venom: Important place, Eddie. Bonded forever. No one will break that bond.

Senketsu: Let’s let no one break the bond that is ours

I could talk about how Eddie refers to Venom as his symbiote just like Ryuko refers to Senketsu as her Senketsu in the official English subtitles and dub:

Eddie: So, it’s true. The symbiote is here. My symbiote.

Ryuko: That’s my Senketsu! You can do anything if you try!

I could talk about how both Eddie/Venom and Ryuko/Senketsu want to be together forever:

Venom: We want to be together, Eddie. Forever.

Eddie: Yes, love.

Senketsu: I want to be worn by you.

Ryuko: I’m never taking Senketsu off.

But, y’know. I think this post is probably long enough by now, and I’ve hopefully made my point.

tl;dr? Venom is basically a live-action Kill la Kill because, if it’s anything like the comics (and I take it that it is), its entire main focus is, just like Kill la Kill’s, the similarly loving relationship between a human and alien clothes.

And if Venom can be recognized for telling a story all about an impossible love that’s really not impossible at all, Kill la Kill deserves some dang recognition for doing the same thing, even if its “monster” isn’t maybe as unconventionally attractive as Venom is.

And if I can write a ginormous essay on this subject without even seeing the film and knowing basically nothing about Venom lore, just imagine what’s possible with that knowledge.

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