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heygerald · 2 years

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OLD HABITS DIE HARD - Part 1

Jake “Hangman” Seresin x oc

After years away, Lt. Zoe “Buzzard” Preston is back in Miramar as a candidate for a top secret mission. She’s excited for it, ready too. Her entire career has been building up to this moment. What she’s a little less excited for is a reunion with a starry eyed, smart-mouthed pilot who had broken her heart the first time around. Maybe, just maybe, this time she’ll be able to finally put him in her rearview mirror. Or maybe she’ll be forced to face the things that she preferred to keep in the dust.

Keep reading here: ... / part 2 / part 3 / *bonus chapter* / part 4 / part 5 / *bonus chapter* / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / *say yes*

Five years. Ten months. Give or take a handful of weeks. A number of days.

A shit load of time.

And yet, very little changed at Miramar during it. Sure, The Hard Deck had gotten a new owner who brought out all the bells and whistles; model plans and mugs hung from thousands of hooks in the ceilings. A new wave of steadfast patrons had filed in since the first glimmer of sunset on the California coast. New beer on tap left the old souls searching for something hoppy but cold, delicious but traditional. The parking lot had gotten a new coat of tarmac. The beach had gotten some new nets for volleyball and an array of food trucks. The base had gotten in a new era of plans, a change in CO a few times over, and the barracks had a fresh splattering of paint on them.

But, as Lieutenant Zoe Preston stared up at the open doors with sandy feet and sunkissed skin, she could still hear the familiar crow of laughter and insults and egos that somehow managed to float above the Jukebox.

Not much had changed, she figured, not where it mattered.

A group of sailors whistled at her as she strode by. Familiar faces from her stint at Miramar half a decade earlier mixed with some unfamiliar faces that she wouldn’t care to remember come morning.

“Boys,” she winked.

One of them, a mechanic named Mason who had spent more than one weekend trying to buy her a drink, tipped his beer at her with a devious smirk.

“Back so soon, Preston?”

“You know me,” she gave a lofty glance at the blinking sign. “I could never say no to a little bit of trouble.”

“Yeah, well, trouble is already waiting for you inside. I think you’re the last to show up,” he noted.

He held the door open as she stepped inside, took a deep whiff of sandalwood and spilt beer, watched as the crowd swept around her like she was a buoy out at sea. Penny wiped down the bar top with a rag while chatting amicably with a dark haired man that looked a flicker too familiar from his side profile, but her gaze quickly moved on to the crowd at the pool table just beyond.

A crowd that she knew too well, bickering with a tone that she would never quite forget.

“I’m surprised that you made it here at all, Bradshaw.”

“Why? Didn’t think I might be in your tail wind?”

“Thought you might run out of jet fuel before you made it to the shoreline,” Hangman shot back. There was the familiar wisp of a smirk on his face as he rattled the pool balls with a swift flick of his wrist. Zoe didn’t need to know whether he was stripes or solid to know that he was winning—it was, afterall, the one thing that he did best in life.

Maybe the only thing he did well.

“You know, considering that you always burn your fuel instead of making a decision,” came the punchline of his cloying insult; barely loud enough to be heard above the crowd.

Rooster shook his head. A few sun-streaked wisps of hair bounced on his forehead, and Zoe bit back a smile as she drew closer. Time away had done him good; it had bronzed his skin and made him look a little bit more like the Bradshaw that she knew rather than the one people whispered about when they realized who his dad was.

“I don’t need you to worry about me, Bagman. I made it here all on my own.”

“That’s not entirely true, is it?” Hangman pointed his pool stick at Rooster before turning back to the table with a snicker. He smacked the cue ball once more, sending several balls into their designated pockets, before grinning at anyone who would give him their attention. Meandering—more like prancing—to the other side of the table where the cue ball laid in waiting, he tutted, “Phoenix over here was practically begging for you to show up. She needs someone to keep her tail up, afterall.”

“Fuck off, Bagman,” Phoenix clipped, arms loosely crossed over her chest.

“It’s Hangman. And it’s true. Not to worry though, you got Bob now. That should be great for your skillset. I’m sure he’s worthy of your time.”

The WSO in question—one Zoe didn’t recognize but could already tell that he might be the brunt of everyone’s humor if his stunned silence was anything to go by—twisted a little uncomfortably at the side of the group, spectacles perched on the top of his nose as he glanced between his new pilot and the man who had just taken a pool stick out of his hands. He hadn’t even put up a fight for it; just let the betrayal happen while remaining respectful to all parties involved.

Phoenix pulled her lips tight as Hangman lined up his last shot, retort coming.

Zoe, not for the first time, delighted in beating her to the punch.

“Considering that fact that Phoenix had a better run score than you did, Bagman, I thought you would have grown a little bit more appreciative of her skills after all these years.”

Phoenix spun on her heel. Hangman jerked his wrist, sending the cue ball wildly spinning into a pocket on the opposite corner of the table, missing the eight ball entirely. Yale grinned as Zoe stepped forward into the group; laughter lighting up his eyes as he looked her over.

“Holy shit,” Phoenix crowed. “Buzz! In the flesh!”

“What’d you expect?” Zoe quipped back, arms still crossed as she grinned at the room.

“I expected you to be in a metal grave by now,” Harvard taunted. Though, when she narrowed her eyes in his direction, his face loosened into the flicker of a smile. Odd friends, even odder enemies, she supposed. “Guess the name still fits, though, huh?”

“Yours doesn’t. You’re still the stupidest fucker I know.”

The ones who didn’t know Zoe watched the scene carefully. The ones that did know Zoe let her insults wash over, taking them as seriously as a grain of salt knowing that she was always quick to snarl but slow to bite. Yale snorted as he patted Harvard on the shoulder, earning a glare from the former, but then laughter, true and hearty, broke through the tension. Phoenix cut through the space the quickest to pull Zoe into a bone crushing hug. They knocked boots so hard that the pair nearly went careening down to the floor, and if it weren’t for Rooster propping her up with a warm hand to the shoulder, they might have made real asses of themselves.

“I should have known you would be here,” Phoenix muttered into her ear.

When she let go, Rooster was quick to pull her into a looser, if not warmer hug that made Zoe’s face crack open with a happy smile. It had been too long since she saw them; too long since her and Phoenix were tearing the tarmac up during Top Gun and since her and Rooster were getting drunk at the local bar.

“You think I’d miss this shitshow?”

“Shitshow?” Hangman echoed, offended almost.

His face was tight as he looked her over; green eyes scouring every inch of her. She looked the same, she knew, but different in the best of ways. Like how her hair was longer, skin was healthier, and bones were stronger. If he noticed, though, he made no indication. Just let that stupid smirk of his draw his features as he leaned onto the pool table with the cue stick in hand.

“I think we’re in trouble if that’s all this is,” he told her half-heartedly. “Though, I get it. The talent is a bit lacking.”

“Self retrospection, Seresin? How progressive of you.”

He snorted. Sorta. It was more a mix of a startled laugh and then an annoyed grunt when he realized she had gotten a laugh out of him at all. Zoe figured that was pretty on par for him, though.

The way his smile seemed to tighten at the edges, however, wasn’t.

“Always quick with the quips, Preston,” he returned to the table. Somehow, despite his mess-up upon her arrival, he was still winning. It wouldn’t take him long now to sink the eight ball into the corner if he was anything like the guy she knew. “Hopefully, you’re just as quick with the maneuvers.”

“Scared?”

“Bored and looking for a good competition.”

The group rolled their eyes in unison at that. Phoenix, maybe, the hardest. Her and Hangman had hated one another since day one when he insinuated that she shouldn’t be a pilot just because she lacked the balls (both physically and metaphorically) for the job. Of course, he had shut up about that as soon as Zoe shot him down during an exercise. Still, the wound had never fully healed over their years apart. It seemed that the distance had only left the wounded ego to fester even further.

She turned her back on him to face Rooster and Zoe.

“Were neither of you going to tell me that you were back in the states?”

They shared a look.

“You want a beer?” Rooster asked Zoe, not even attempting to seem like he was avoiding the argument at hand. She smiled back. “Yeah. I’m gonna get us some beers.”

He disappeared into the crowd. Phoenix put her hands on her hips.

“Coward!” she shouted after him.

“Big words from a little lady like yourself, P.”

“You’re such a dick,” she said, but the insult was clearly lacking malice. Instead, as the two women stared at one another, they both found themselves laughing at the idiocy of it all. Phoenix shook her head before pulling two other pilots into the conversation. “Fanboy, Payback, meet my sister from our early days at Top Gun. Zoe ‘Buzzard’ Preston. Buzz for short.”

“You two were in the same class?” Fanboy asked.

“Oh fuck yeah,” Phoenix laughed at the memory as Zoe winked at the boys in succession. “We were the best there was. Other than Bagman, of course. Buzz was almost number one, too; would have been if it wasn’t Seresin’s tendency to leave everyone else out to dry just for the sake of being an asshole.”

Payback laughed. “Yeah, I’m starting to get that vibe.”

“Just wait till you get to know him a little better,” Zoe said.

She wasn’t exactly bitter about the whole second place thing, not anymore anyways. But she still was a little hurt—no matter how much she wanted to believe that she wasn’t—that he had so carelessly tossed their relationship into the trash over such a trivial little thing as a medal. Second place was fine by her, anyways. She got a good station and a successful career to boot. One that brought her back here of all places; right alongside him.

First place couldn’t mean all that much, then, could it?

“I’d recommend never expecting him to be your wingman,” she snarked.

Perhaps, maybe, just a little bit, bitter. But who could blame her? She deserved to have a little bit of bitterness even after all this time. Hangman seemed worthy of it seeing as how his ego had yet to be reigned in after all these years.

“In a bar or in the sky?” Fanboy asked.

Phoenix laughed around the neck of her beer. “Either,” she told them.

The boys shared a look; a silent conversation passing between that could only truly exist between a pilot and his WSO. No one bothered to ask what the conversation itself was about. The girls didn’t care enough to inquire, nor did they want to have a peek into the pair’s head just hours before their first training exercise.

That could all wait till tomorrow when it really mattered.

“So, what sort of name is Buzzard, anyways?” Fanboy asked after a moment.

“I don’t know. What sort of name is Fanboy? You a Belieber or something?”

Payback guffawed into his drink, earning a hard elbow to the gut from his WSO. He winced, but didn’t apologize. Just wiped the spilt beer off his chin with a smile and said, “during flight school, he was always ending up in the nursing bay for one thing or another. We joked that it was to make his fans happy. The nurses all had heart eyes for him at one point or another.”

“You accident prone, Fanboy?”

“Just like to please the ladies when I can,” he shot back. Phoenix faked a gag while Zoe rolled her eyes humorously. Not one to let it go, though, he turned his gaze back to her to ask again. “But, seriously? What’s with all the bird names around here? First there’s Phoenix, then Rooster, now Buzzard? I mean, I know that you two are birds and all, but Rooster doesn’t exactly fit the bill.”

Payback snickered. “Well, Rooster fits it better than they do seeing as he actually has a co--oof!”

He keeled forward at the waist, moaning in dramatics from where Phoenix had sent her elbow swiftly into his stomach. A little green in the face, he held his hands up as if to offer an apology, while mumbling, “alright, geez. Sorry, Mom. It was just a joke.”

“Her name has nothing to do with her genitals,” Phoenix tutted, almost proudly.

“A weird way to defend me, but still true,” Zoe snarked at her friend. When she got the tail-end of Phoenix’s glare, however, she stepped far enough away that she wasn’t in reach of the woman’s elbows. It sent her backing up into Bob who quickly apologized—as if it was his fault in the first place—before moving to her opposite side so that Zoe had the free space next to the pool table. “How does anyone get their nickname, Fanboy? I didn’t pick it. It was given to me. Take it up with flight school, yeah?”

“There has to be some sort of meaning.”

She harrumphed, knowing damn well there was a meaning. “Well, it’s—”

“It’s because when everyone else is dead,” a smooth voice cut through the fold. The four turned to find Hangman standing over their shoulder, bent over the edge of the pool table about to take his turn. He blinked up at the group, green eyes burning a line down her face, before swiftly turning away. “She’s the only one left circling the bodies. Earned the name in the early days when she was somewhat good at training exercises. More so that she just knows how to run away without getting shot, though.”

He punctuated his statement by throwing his arm forward. The cue ball clacked against the eight ball, sending it into the corner at the far left of the table, leaving Yale and Harvard to groan about losing to him so quickly. Ego stocked, she watched Hangman stand to his full height with a smirk.

“Isn’t that right, Preston?”

There was something suave about how he spoke, a staccato that Zoe had missed in their years apart, but something burning and sharp and deadly all the same. All those years ago she had been convinced she was in love with him because of who he was beneath the moonlight when no one else was around, but years apart had made her realize that she was really just addicted to the adrenaline of him. It was no different than the job. Her hands twitched and her brow would pool sweat and her heart would thump a rhythm in her chest that made her feel more alive then she would ever know anywhere else when he fixed her with his attention.

But then just as quickly when he moved his attention elsewhere, she would return to the tarmac, her head would clear, and she would be forced to remember that who he was in the moonlight wasn’t the real him. Not really anyways. Who he was in the moonlight was just the version of him that she was attracted to; the soft side, the caring side, the side that made her feel seen.

And what good was all that when his prominent side was like this. A total dick.

“Well, you would know,” she shot back. “You were dead all those times, afterall.”

His smile twitched a little, eyes darkening, before he got his footing.

“Still got number one, though.”

Her smirk became a little less of a smile and a little more of a snarl. It was so easy to fall into this quibble with him, fall back into dangerous patterns, and if the bar was a little bit shittier and a little less packed, Zoe might have thought that no time had passed at all.

But it did.

And she was glad for it.

“Still don’t have anyone to watch your back, though. Do you?”

For the second time that night, she watched his smirk twitch a little at the side. Almost as if what she was saying actually broke through his exterior to leave a mark on the man beneath. She doubted that was the case; quickly scolded herself for thinking that he was capable of having a hurt pride at all, let alone from someone like her.

Old habits die hard, she supposed, but they do die.

Hangman cracked his mouth open to make a retort, no doubt rude and egotistical, but before he could the music from the jukebox cut off. The bar groaned, heads turning left and right to figure out what had happened, before someone started keying up the piano. Zoe heard the first notes of a familiar song, and turned to Phoenix with a knowing grin.

“Leave it to Rooster to sniff out a piano.”

“Are you complaining?” Phoenix grabbed a few of the boys; Fanboy, Payback, Coyote, and even Bob, before ushering them excitedly towards the other side of the bar. “I guess you’re not getting that beer any time soon.”

“Probably shouldn’t have expected anything less. Rooster is so cheap sometimes.”

Phoenix threw her head back with a laugh before disappearing into the crowd. The pool tables were suddenly much less crowded as the bar patrons slowly started to be pulled to where the music was. Hangman stood amidst it all, cue stick limp in hand, gaping in confusion.

“What the hell happened to the jukebox?” he asked.

Zoe snickered. He blinked at her with a small frown. She just arched a brow in retort before grabbing his beer off the side of the table to take a swig.

“Rooster might not be an egomaniac like you, but he still loves to sing,” she said as if it were a simple truth. “Besides, you have a shit taste in music.”

“I—I don’t,” he said. Then his frown deepened into a scowl as he snagged his beer back out of her hands. Despite not having qualms when she insulted him earlier, he didn’t seem to be excited about how she was jumping to Rooster’s defense so easily. “What’s with you two, anyways? You fucking or something?”

She rolled her eyes. “As if I’d ever date a pilot again.”

“Doesn’t mean that you’re not fucking.”

“Alright,” she narrowed her eyes in turn, mouth pinching a little bit at the unpleasurable turn of conversation. She forgot he could sour things so effortlessly. “No. We’re not fucking. Not that it’s any of your business if we were.”

“Then—?”

“What’s the saying, Bagman? Birds of a feather tend to stick together?” she said with a forceful loftiness, enjoying his misery a little too much for anything else.

“He’s a dickhead.”

“And you’re an asshole.”

“He can’t fly.”

“He’s here, isn’t he?”

Jake pinched his mouth tighter, gripped his beer a little harder. “He’s a total tool.”

“Careful, Seresin,” she quipped, enjoying his bad attitude even less now that the conversation was beginning to reach murky waters. Still, a smirk and sarcasm were as good as duct tape in a situation like this; able to manage today what she could worry about fixing tomorrow. “You almost sound jealous of him.”

He went stiff beside her.

“Please,” he scoffed as if the entire idea was ridiculous. Though, when his eyes darted to the crowded piano on the far side of the bar where the crowd was now raucously joining in on singing, she caught the briefest flicker of uncertainty. “I’ve heard all about Bradshaw through the rumor mill. He isn’t half the pilot he thinks he is. He’s more likely to stall out than to make a kill.”

“What? Like you?”

“I have the record for a reason.”

“You’re never going to let that go, are you?” she muttered.

“Maybe if someone else here had made a kill, I would. But, I doubt that will happen anytime soon. Especially not when they select me as team leader. I make the shots; both the kill and the instructions.”

Zoe sighed.

Yeah, she thought with a brief flicker of misery, things really didn’t change.

“Glad to see that you’re still the same after all these years,” she rolled her eyes. She watched his eyes brighten, mouth quirking upwards, but before he could let the insult be taken as a compliment, she added, “You’re still an asshole who cares more about being number one than anything else. Like, you know, the fact that not everything is about being a pilot.”

The brightness froze in his eyes instantly, before he was frowning at her, eyebrows knit tightly in the middle of his forehead. It was, perhaps, the most genuine reaction he had given her yet.

“That’s not true.”

“And you’re still a shit liar, Seresin.”

He stared at her. Gaped, almost. Green eyes somehow both dark and bright as they swept over her features, looking for something, though she wasn’t sure what. She simply stared back, looking for something, though she wasn’t so sure of what that was either.

“Look, Zoe, I—”

“Jesus Christ, Buzz, what the fuck is going on here?” an amused voice cut through their staring contest like a knife through water.

Zoe turned to find Dylan ‘Stitch’ Chutsky looming over her with damp hair and glistening skin, the curl of a smile burning a line across his pale features as he glanced around the bar. It was easy for him to do given the foot of height he had on Zoe, and not for the first time, she found herself relieved in her WSO’s presence. He had a uncanny habit of showing up at the worst of times with his endless snark and pointed insults.

Right now, however, as she let out a breath of tension that she didn’t even realize she had been holding, wasn’t one of them.

Stitch arched a sharp brow with an equally sharp grin before asking, “are we on American Idol right now or is everyone in the bar just really fucking drunk already?”

She laughed, allowing her shoulders to lose a little bit of their stress.

“Rooster found a piano,” she said, as if that explained everything.

Stitch nodded as if it did. “The jukebox is out? I thought Penny would have replaced that old shit box with one that worked properly by now.”

“Something like that,” she simpered with a glance at the blonde beside her. She could tell that Hangman was trying to keep that damned smirk of his plastered in place, but as she poked a little more at Rooster’s musical talent, it flickered at the edges. “He always did like the attention, though.”

Stitch hummed. “I forgot he could do that.”

“Sing?”

“Make an entire bar of people fall in love with him because he knows how to play a few keys on a piano.”

“I wouldn’t say that they’re in love with him. He’s just playing a song that everybody knows,” Hangman argued, a little hot for the easy conversation that had been passing between the pair.

They both turned to look at him. Stitch, blinking as if he only just recognized his presence, didn’t seem all that bothered by his acrid tone. Zoe, on the other hand, felt a headache forming when she noted the way his gaze swept over Stitch condescendingly.

“Who are you?”

“Stitch.”

“Is that supposed to mean something to me? I’ve never heard of you.”

Stitch let out a bark of laughter; not entirely amused, but certainly not unamused. He always did walk that fine line, enjoying a little bit of chaos in his life as if hurtling around enemy air space inside a jet wasn’t enough. “I’m her WSO, asshat,” he shot back. His tone was just as acrid, but the easy going smile on his face made it seem a little less so. “Who the hell are you?”

“Hangman.”

“You’re Hangman?”

“Heard a lot about me?” Jake stood a little straight, puffed out his chest.

It deflated almost as quickly when Stitch just belted out another mean laugh, shaking his head while sharing a look with Zoe that certainly couldn’t have been construed as complementary. “Nothing you’d want me to repeat. I got to say, though, that you’re a lot smaller than I expected. With all those rumors flying about, I would have thought your shoulders would have been bigger. Y’know, to withstand the weight of your ginormous fucking head.”

Hangman’s smile turned icy, harsh. “Why don’t you dial it back a bit, buddy. You’re not even a pilot.”

“As if I haven’t heard that one before.”

Hangman floundered for a moment at Stitch’s apparent inability to take insult no matter how insulting someone could be. Shaking his head, his eyes darted to meet Zoe’s. She tried to stifle her smile when he did so, but, if she were being honest, it was hilarious to watch Stitch ding Hangman’s vanity without even breaking a sweat.

Especially when she had spent the better part of their first two years together telling Stitch about all the different ways that Jake ‘Hangman” Seresin had broken her heart to smithereens.

“What happened to Nantucket?” Hangman asked her after a moment.

“He got reassigned,” she shrugged. They had been through a hell of a lot back at Top Gun, but almost immediately after he got himself reassigned for losing his temper one too many times. She had been sad to see her partner go after so much blood, sweat, and tears together, but Stitch had been the best replacement anyone could ask for. Now, five years after the fact, she hardly ever thought about her former WSO. “Stitch has been with me ever since.”

Hangman harrumphed. “I liked Nantucket,” he said; the implication was clear.

“Well, I’m sure you would, Nantucket never had a problem with you abandoning us during the training exercises because of his little man crush on you. Stitch has a bit more of a backbone. Makes it a lot easier to like someone when they actually have your back up in the sky.”

There was that flicker again in his eyes, the tightness of his smile.

She ignored it to nudge Stitch towards the piano.

“C’mon, let’s go sing. Rooster is gonna want to talk to you, anyways. You still owe him money from that bet, remember? Back in Miami.”

Stitch threw his head back with a groan. “Fuck! I forgot about that. You think he’d take a lap dance as payment? I have, like, ten dollars in my bank account right now. Apparently buying stock in Blockbuster isn’t as lucrative as one might have expected.”

She shoved him forward with an incredulous laugh. The things that he said were always so out of pocket that it was almost impossible not to laugh at him, but clearly he didn’t think his financial woes were as humorous as she did, and in response he flashed her a scandalized look over his shoulder.

“I’m serious, Buzz,” he huffed. “I might need to start panhandling for money soon. Or, worse, I might have to move in with you. Imagine the impact that will have on my sex life.”

“Just go,” Zoe gave him another shove, another laugh, and was about to follow when a hand circled around her wrist; gentle but firm, warm but ice cold.

“Buzz.”

Zoe turned to find Hangman staring at her with a look that she couldn’t quite place; a look that she wasn’t sure she had ever seen him wear. Was that regret? Or disgust? Longing? Or was he about to tell her to keep their former relationship to herself because he didn’t want to give the other pilots any sort of leg up on him during training?

She used to think that she knew everything about him. Every quirk, every smile.

But that wasn’t actually true. And it certainly wasn’t true anymore.

“I—” he paused, floundered a little bit, eyes darting around the packed room as he took a deep breath. She furrowed her brows at him with a glance at the hand circled around her wrist, not liking the way her skin still smoldered under his touch after all these years. He noticed her gaze, and a moment later Zoe watched as he settled back onto his heels while licking his lips, hand dropping from her wrist. “Be careful trusting Rooster up there. The kid tends to freak out when he’s under pressure.”

Zoe frowned, bewildered.

It seemed like he wanted to say something more, but he never did, and she had grown tired of waiting for something from him that would never come.

Why did she always expect so much from him?

Shaking her own head, she shot him a winning grin that was as acidic as it was bitter along the edges. “I think you’re the last person that gets to lecture me about trust, Bagman.

He frowned at the use of the nickname that everyone had shoved upon him for his behavior up in the sky. And it did hurt a little to say; hurt when she knew how much it actually bothered him. But then she reminded herself that she didn’t care—couldn’t waste her time caring, not again—and quickly started shoving her way through the crowd. Rooster had finished his song now, but there were yells for him to sing something else, and by the time she got to a free spot at the piano, he was already banging another tune onto the keys with his shoulders thrown back.

Phoenix smiled at her, then glanced over her shoulder, and asked, “you good?”

“Sure,” she shrugged.

“Hangman’s an asshole,” the brunette replied, as if that could fix everything from the past. It wouldn’t, they both knew, but it wouldn’t be the last time that Phoenix tried to remind Zoe of that fact either. “Don’t worry about him, though. Bob and I got your back. Right Bob?”

The bespectacled WSO glanced between the woman in confusion. “Uh, right. Yep. Yes ma’am. That’s the job, anyways. I got your back.”

“You don’t even know what we’re talking about, do you?” Zoe asked with a wry smile.

He hesitated.

Laughing, Zoe forgave him as soon as she threw a hand over his shoulder. “You and Stitch are gonna get along great. Maybe a little too, well, actually,” she said while rustling his hair. “In fact, don’t ever offer to do him a favor no matter how charming he might seem. You seem a little too nice to end up in the county jail for that idiot.”

Bob didn’t seem too convinced. “Sounds good to me, ma’am.”

Zoe laughed again. There was something entirely too sweet about the little man tucked beneath her arm. Something endearing that would likely get spit out if he didn’t also know how to piss people off.

Maybe Hangman could teach him a thing or two about being upfront with people.

As if knowing where her mind went, Phoenix added, “I don’t know what you ever saw in that guy, by the way. Once you get past the rakishly nice face, you see that everything else is a total shitstorm.”

“Since when do you call Hangman rakish?”

“Since I have a pair of eyes and the sunset lighting seems to make his skin glow. Plus, I saw the way you looked at each other, as if no time had actually passed,” Phoenix told her with a knowing look. Zoe scowled a little. Particularly when Bob’s gaze darted towards the blonde in question upon learning that little nugget of information. “It’s hard not to, really. I’m just trying to play along with it so that you’ll finally listen to me this time. No dick is worth that.”

“There’s nothing there, anymore, P.”

“That’s exactly what you said last time too.”

“Yeah, well, this time I mean it,” Zoe rolled her eyes. She shot Bob a scowl when he raised his brows at her from beneath his glasses, clearly not convinced despite not even knowing the majority of her story. He blushed at being caught, but didn’t apologize. Groaning at them all, she said, “I’m serious! Hangman is a has-been. I’m onto better and brighter things now.”

Phoenix rolled her eyes. “Sure.”

“Don’t make me kick your ass, P. It’s early in the night but I will.”

Her brunette companion grinned. “As if you could.”

Zoe let out a noise of incredulity, but before she could make good on her threat, Stitch was inserting himself into the equation with a beer in each hand. Sometimes, she swore that he had a sixth sense about when to interrupt conversations. She minded a little bit less when he offered her one of his beers—half empty already, she noted, but said nothing—before he was sucking down the other with a curious glance at the trio.

“What’d I miss?” he asked.

Zoe glared at Phoenix, daring her to bring up Hangman to her WSO. Wisely, she said nothing. That left Bob to clear his throat and say, “uh… something about shots?”

Stitch didn’t even question it. Just threw his head back with a wild grin.

“Shots!” he shouted.

Phoenix laughed as she followed him to the bar, Bob in tow, leaving Zoe to shake her head after them with a hearty laugh. When she did follow, she ignored the pair of mossy green eyes that followed her towards the bar, and when she threw her shot back with a cry, she definitely didn’t think about how that has-been still tended to make her feel.

#jake hangman seresin #hangman x oc #jake seresin x oc #top gun maverick #top gun imagine #jake seresin imagine #jake hangman seresin imagine #angst #fanfiction #i tried?#more to come #old habits die hard

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mickimagnum · 1 year

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Day 1 | Traditional | ft. Gemma

Wedding Bells CAS Challenge

(Credits + Links After Cut)

Hair: Buzzard, SFS - see original post Veil: Beo, Sims Cloud - see original post Dress: Sentate, Patreon (free) Necklace: Glitterberryfly, TSR Earrings: Glitterberryfly, TSR Eyeshadow: Remus Sirion, TSR Lipstick: Remus Sirion, TSR Poses: Helgatisha, Patreon (free)

Thank you to these amazing CC creators:

@buzzardly28 @beocreations @sentate @glitterberrysims @remussims @helgatisha

#weddingbellscas #mickiweddingbellscas #gemmamiller #sims cas challenge #cas challenge #the sims 4 #ts4 #ts4cc #ts4 cas #my sims #simblr #sims community #sims lookbook #sims edit #maxis mix #sims 4 lookbook #sims fashion #sims wedding

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greekstar · 1 year

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Warrior cat name Ideas Prefixes - A-Z A Acorn Adder Amber Ant Apple Arch Arrow Aspen Ash Asher Alder Amber B Badger Bark Beech Bellow Birch Berry Bird Black Blizzard Brave Breeze Bright Brown Bell Bug Beetle Bluebell Blue Bounce Brindle Brush Bush Buzzard Buzz Bee Bumble Bass Basil Bubble Brine Beaver Bison (I feel like this only goes good with ‘horn’ or Bisonpelt/fur.) Bat Bone Butterfly Burdock Broken Bramble Bracken Bay Brisk Blossom Briar Boil Branch Bud C Cloud Cloudy Crystal Cold Cricket Cliff Cardinal Crying Cougar Coyote Cobweb Chick Cow Cave Cheetah Carrot Coral Cactus Claw Cedar Cherry Cinder Clover Copper Creek Crooked Crouch Crow D Dew Dewy Duck Dusty Dust Dune Down Dagger Dodge Dolphin Daisy Doe Dapple Dappled Dark Dawn Dead Dove Drift Dusk E Eagle Ebony Echo Egg Eel Ember F Fallen Fallow Fawn Feather Fennel Fern Ferret Finch Fire Flame Fleet Flint Flower Flow Fly Fox Freckle Frog Frost Furze Fuzzy Foal Falling Fall G Gale Gust Golden Gold Goose Gorse Gorge Grass Gray Green Grass Goldfish Guppy Ghost H Hail Half Hare Hawk Hay Hoot Hazel Heather Heavy Hollow Holly Honey Honeycomb Hummingbird Horse Happy Hornet Hound Heron I Ice Ivy J Jagged Jay Joy Jaguar Jackdaw Jump Juniper K Kestrel Kink Koi L Lake Larch Leaf Lark Leopard Lichen Lightning Lily Lion Little Lizard Log Long Lost Loud Low Lynx M Maggot Mallow Maple Marsh Meadow Milk Minnow Mint Mist Misty Mole Moon Morning Moss Mossy Moth Mottle Mouse Mouth Mud Mumble Mink Muddy Moonlight Mountain Mushroom Monkey N Nettle Needle Nut Newt Night Nimble O Oak Oat Odd Olive One Otter Owl Orange Ocean Orca Opal P Pale Perch Pool Pike Peak Prickle Pounce Pine Petal Petal Pebble Pear Patch Pirate(kittypet or loner) Polar Peach Panda Pond Pigeon Plum Q Quail Quick R Rabbit Rain Ragged Rat Rattle Root Raspberry Reed Red Robin Rock Rose Rowan Rubble Running Rushing Rush Russet Rust Rye Raven Raccoon Rustle Rattlesnake Ravine Rapid S Sage Short Sheep Sedge Shrew Slate Slow Snail Sneeze Sorrel Soot Spider Spruce Sun Sunny Swallow Shallow Shade Sharp Scorch Sand Sandy Sky Silver Smoke Snake Soft Snow Sparrow Speckle Splash Spotted Squirrel Stalking Stalk Stalker Starling Stone Storm Stumpy Stump Sweet Swift Shred Sloe Shell Seed Shimmer Shimmering Skunk Spirit Squid Shy Sound Summer Sapphire Spiraling Spiral Shark Saturn T Tall Talon Tooth Timber Tiger Twig Tumble Thorn Thistle Thrush Tawny Tangle Ting Trout Torn Toad Tiny V Vine Vixen Void Vole W Wasp Weasel Web Weed Wet Whisker White Whale Wild Willow Wind Wolf Winter Wisteria Whisper Whispering Water Wave Waver Whisper Watermelon Whistle Wood Y Yellow

Yew

Yarrow- suggested

You guys DONT WANNA KNOW how LONG this took. I’m crying. And I might’ve missed some so feel free to send me messages in chat to request me editing it and putting it in some (not like messaging but the. Chat in this post lol.)

@cryptidclaw I also did this for our Au to help us with renaming.

I will get to suffixes soon I promise.

#Greekstar’s Suffixes/Prefixes #name ideas #Prefixes #suffixes #Just some name suggestions.

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laevanders · 1 year

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I was listening to VHS Christmas Carol (in February, yes) and began thinking about it with the DuckTales character, cuz well...Scrooge.

But seeing how i can't make a 45min animatic about that, here's my casting:

Scrooge as Scrooge (Duh)

Gladstone as Fred

His Wife/The guy who ask why do he even bother with Scrooge is Magica (but like a comic!Magica)

Donald as Bob Cratchit

Daisy as Mrs. Cratchit

Huey, Dewey,Louie as their sons

Webby as Tiny Tim

Maybe May and June, also

Rockerduck as Jacob Marley (his glasses can be like dimes or something, in the vine of the movie Scrooge(2022))

Goldie as Belle (but when they meet she's a dancer at Fizziwigs or something)

Marshall Cabrera as Fizziwigs (idk actually, but I think it fits)

The guys who asks for donations are either Jose and Panchito or Mickey and Goofy (I prefer the cabs but idk)

Glomgold, Beaks and Buzzard as the business men In the funeral

Beagle Boys as the 3 guys robbing him

Turkey Boy: Fenton?

The only ones I do not know is who are gonna be the couple who are relieved for his death, Launchpad and Drake maybe?

Anyway..NOW THE SPIRITS:

they could be like they are in the show.. but

I'd like to think them as characters so:

Past = Gyro: I just think their sass combine, also the time tub and stuff

Present = Santa Claus: Come-on just perfect, flying around the town and distributing Christmas Electricity? Perfect

Future (this is gonna feel like a stretch but hear me out:) Bentina: I just think it fits, since the Yet to Come puts in the path definitely and don't talk that much

#DuckTales #duck comics #vhscc #starkid #vhs christmas carol #scrooge mcduck #ebenezer scrooge #donald duck #dt17 #webby vanderquack #huey dewey and louie #gladstone gander #and others

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bright-eyed · 10 months

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Four Questions Regarding the Dreams of Animals

BY SUSAN STEWART

1. Is it true that they dream? It is true, for the spaces of night surround them with shape and purpose, like a warm hollow below the shoulders, or between the curve of thigh and belly. The land itself can lie like this. Hence our understanding of giants. The wind and the grass cry out to the arms of their sleep as the shore cries out, and buries its face in the bruised sea. We all have heard barns and fences splintering against the dark with a weight that is more than wood. The stars, too, bear witness. We can read their tails and claws as we would read the signs of our own dreams; a knot of sheets, scratches defining the edges of the body, the position of the legs upon waking. The cage and the forest are as helpless in the night as a pair of open hands holding rain.

2. Do they dream of the past or of the future?

Think of the way a woman who wanders the roads could step into an empty farmhouse one afternoon and find a basket of eggs, some unopened letters, the pillowcases embroidered with initials that once were hers. Think of her happiness as she sleeps in the daylilies; the air is always heaviest at the start of dusk. Cows, for example, find each part of themselves traveling at a different rate of speed. Their bells call back to their burdened hearts the way a sparrow taunts an old hawk. As far as the badger and the owl are concerned, the past is a silver trout circling in the ice. Each night he swims through their waking and makes his way back to the moon. Clouds file through the dark like prisoners through an endless yard. Deer are made visible by their hunger. I could also mention the hopes of common spiders: green thread sailing from an infinite spool, a web, a thin nest, a child dragging a white rope slowly through the sand.

3. Do they dream of this world or of another?

The prairie lies open like a vacant eye, blind to everything but the wind. From the tall grass the sky is an industrious map that bursts with rivers and cities. A black hawk waltzes against his clumsy wings, the buzzards grow bored with the dead. A screendoor flapping idly on an August afternoon or a woman fanning herself in church; this is how the tails of snakes and cats keep time even in sleep. There are sudden flashes of light to account for. Alligators, tormented by knots and vines, take these as a sign of grace. Eagles find solace in the far glow of towns, in the small yellow bulb a child keeps by his bed. The lightning that scars the horizon of the meadow is carried in the desperate gaze of foxes. Have other skies fallen into this sky? All the evidence seems to say so. Conspiracy of air, conspiracy of ice, the silver trout is thirsty for morning, the prairie dog shivers with sweat. Skeletons of gulls lie scattered on the dunes, their beaks still parted by whispering. These are the languages that fall beyond our hearing. Imagine the way rain falls around a house at night, invisible to its sleepers. They do not dream of us.

4. How can we learn more? This is all we will ever know.

#w #favorites #kennapost

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therovingstar · 11 months

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Illustrious

Summary: When everyone lowkey wants to be your favorite. Chill fun with the OG Scions, set sometime post-5.3, I reckon. ~1600 words.

She should have known to stay away when she entered the Rising Stones only for every eye in the room to immediately find her. Odzaya resists a reflexive pause in her step and continues on her way to the bar, where Lucianne greets her with a tellingly amused smile and her usual cup of tea. “Should I be alarmed?” she asks, just loud enough for the bartender to catch, as she accepts the earthenware mug with a scaled hand and appreciative nod.

“Depends on your answer,” Lucianne cryptically replies, and lifts an encouraging eyebrow before scooting her way back down the counter with a chuckle.

Not promising. With a silent, preparatory sigh, Odzaya turns from the counter and, pointedly ignoring the half-dozen stares that follow, makes her way to one of the sitting area’s armchairs.

Before she has taken her first sip or even fully sat her rear into her seat, Lyse is in her sights, and practically in her face.

“Who got you to join the Scions?” she asks without preamble, hands planted on her red-clad hips as she stands before her.

Odzaya lifts a thick violet brow, just barely seen beneath locced bangs. “Good to see you, Lyse. How is Ala Mhigo’s restoration progressing?”

“Slowly but in a good direction. It’s annoying work sometimes but worth it. Raubahn and M’naago say ‘hi’. Who got you to join the Scions?” The first three statements fly nearly over her head, quick in succession as they come. The fourth – clearly considered by the monk to be the most important – is slowed just enough to register.

“Context?” Odzaya asks simply, eyebrow rising higher.

“Thancred says it was him,” Lyse vaguely clarifies. “But whoever of us you met first gave you the invitation, yeah? Between Thancred, Shtola, and Papalymo and me, it was us, right? It’s practically on record.”

Is it? Before she can ask, Thancred speaks up from his position leaning against Tataru’s desk.

“There is no record, Lyse. Just your word, which is wrong.” He tips his chin toward Odzaya with a small grin. “Welcome back, love.”

“Mm,” she sounds in acknowledgment as she settles back against the cushions and brings her mug to her lips, just as Lyse continues.

“Well, maybe not on written record,” the blonde amends, turning to the older man. “But it might as well be. We met her while investigating the Twelveswood, remember? Gave her her invitation to the Waking Sands after she helped us out. That’s how she got there.”

Thancred lets out an incredulous laugh. “Before or after you knocked your block and imagined it?”

“What?!”

“They’ve been arguing about it for near a bell, now.” Odzaya looks up to see Y’shtola planting herself at the nearby table, gaze narrowed in what can only be perceived as fond exasperation. “Lyse refuses to let it go.”

“Because I’m right!” the young woman insists.

“Meaning wrong.”

“Shut up, Thancred!”

“How did this begin?” Odzaya asks in a rare – and usually regretted – indulgence of curiosity.

“Fond reminiscence,” Urianger supplies, amusement writ clear on his face. “Knowledge of thy visit to the Sylphs prompted Lyse to recall your first fateful meeting ‘neath the great boughs of the Elementals’ domain.”

“You were practicing your conjury, remember?” Lyse takes over. “Saved Papalymo from getting nearly plucked up off the ground by a buzzard.”

“There’s some hilarious imagery,” Thancred comments.

Odzaya nods. “In the Central Shroud, near Bentbranch. I recall.” Though she was not so much practicing her conjury as ensuring the young Sylphie did not kill herself practicing hers.

“See?!” Lyse exclaims, aiming the declaration at Thancred. The older man graces her with a smirk.

“Odzaya’s memory is not the one we are calling into question. She would also recall our own first meeting underneath the Sultantree, yes?” He meets her gaze expectantly.

Odzaya takes her time enjoying a long draught of tea before agreeing. “We defeated a voidsent.”

“And in so doing rescued the Sultana,” he adds, his smirk widening at Lyse as if to brag. She sniffs at him.

“As if that’s relevant.”

“Of course it is. How else than through such a serendipitous partnership would she have been convinced to join us at the Waking Sands? Which, for the proverbial record, is located in the very region I monitored?”

“Proximity doesn’t mean anything! Zaya showed up in the Shroud long before she ever made it to you out there in the desert!” The monk turns back to Odzaya. “Right?”

“Mm...” the other woman begins, happily distracted by the taste of nutmeg and heavy cream on her tongue.

“Ha!” Lyse exclaims, taking the monotone intonation for confirmation as she whips herself around to Thancred, only...

“No,” the woman finishes.

...to whip right on back around in a near-complete circle, her expression plummeting in surprise. “Huh? No?”

“Ha,” Thancred mocks. Lyse shoots him a barbed look.

“I did reach Thanalan first,” Odzaya corrects, circling a clawed finger around the mug’s rim before bringing the residue she finds to her mouth. “By boat, coming from Kugane. I met Thancred soon after, and not long after that he gave me the name of the Scions and invited me to the Waking Sands.”

“But you never mentioned him when you met Papalymo and me!” Lyse questions. Odzaya briefly lifts a shoulder.

“I cared not for the invitation, nor the thought of involvement in an organization.” She spares a glance in Thancred’s direction. “Nor the not-so-subtle flirtations of a random rogue I met beneath a tree in the desert. I chose to forget the encounter occurred.”

“Are you serious?” the man questions with an incredulous grin. Odzaya grants him a small, teasing smirk, and he loudly chuckles. “Well, damn. Consider me effectively humbled.”

“Guess that extends to both of us.” With a slight pout, Lyse plops herself on the arm of Odzaya’s chair, the long red silk of her sleeve draping itself over Odzaya’s lap. “If you were looking to avoid joining any groups, I can only assume that means Papalymo and I didn’t convince you, either.”

“No,” Odzaya confirms, her smirk widening when Lyse answers her bluntness by wriggling herself partially into her seat, only to settle for the chair’s arm when the spikes of her friend’s curled tail promise something decidedly different from comfort.

“Well, if we failed to convince you, how’d you end up joining?”

Reflexively, Odzaya glances over her mug’s rim, sunset eyes finding their way across the table, only to meet Y’shtola’s own misty gray gaze.

Urianger catches the subtle exchange, and his delight is obvious. “And the sorceress strikes once more,” he dramatically intonates. Lyse whips her head around for what seems the umpteenth time.

“Shtola?!”

The scholar in question merely lounges further into her own seat, her own cup of tea in hand. She takes a leisurely sip, and the subsequent clink of the porcelain on the accompanying saucer seems to sound her answer better than words.

“Why do I feel like we should have known?” Thancred comments with an amused shrug.

“But that’s not fair!” Lyse exclaims, eyeing Odzaya. “You were never in Limsa! Were you?”

“For a brief time, yes,” she corrects once more. It was her original destination after leaving Kugane, in fact, only for the small ship to be blown off course by an unforeseen storm. It found purchase instead in Thanalan, at the docks of the Silver Bazaar, from which she found her way to Ul’dah on foot.

An attempted guiding by higher powers, it may have been, the more she thinks on it. An annoyance, it most certainly was.

“Just long enough to capture the attentions of the local populace,” Y’shtola confirms. “The commercial link between Limsa and Kugane does make the citizenry more accustomed to foreigners. Nevertheless, a rather elaborately garbed Au Ra adorned with both blade and scepter set tongues wagging rather enthusiastically when she arrived via airship.”

“Unsurprising,” Thancred comments, a teasing wink already on hand when Odzaya briefly meets his gaze.

“I shall enjoy my respite in peace now, yes?” she inquires of Lyse, the question just short of sarcastic as she makes a point of raising her mug back to her lips. The monk releases a final, resigned gust of air and theatrically drapes herself along the armchair’s back, her blonde head alighting upon Odzaya’s shoulder.

“I suppose,” she says, a pout pulling at her voice as well as at the bow of her lips. “Still think it’s cheating,” she mutters.

“Simply be glad our illustrious friend found her way into our midst, dear Lyse,” Urianger soothes. “Twas a united effort, one could say, for our prayers to be answered as they were.”

Just then, the din of Mor Dhona’s marketplace heralds the opening of the Rising Stone’s doors. A familiar sight soon follows: an enthusiastically arguing Alisaie, her arms a tangle of emphatic gestures, and a calmly protesting Alphinaud, at whom said gestures are aimed. The former only pauses in her tirade when she catches sight of Lyse’s figure and, apparently more importantly, the high-pinned fall of Odzaya’s locs partially obscured behind it. “Aha!” she exclaims. “Zaya will clear this up!” And against her brother’s protestations, she makes a beeline for them. “Zaya! Who do you rely on most amongst the Scions?”

Once more, the Warrior of Light lowers her mug, her expression characteristically neutral but for the slightest pinched purse to her lips. “And soon to find my way back out,” she quietly declares.

#odzaya malaguld #scions of the seventh dawn #ffxiv fic #storytime #hey look i wrote something! its a miracle!#trying to practice more with zaya's voice and pov #it's almost always easier writing from another's perspective #cuz they're almost always more forthcoming with their thoughts/emotions/etc.#zaya's a closed book even to herself sometimes

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dansnaturepictures · 10 months

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23rd July 2023: Andrews Mare in the New Forest

Pictures taken in this set are of: 1, 5, 6, 7 and 8. Views on what was a great walk around, I really liked being out in the open, vast and undulating landscape with the rich varied emerald colour of the thick gorse and bracken, and the heather just starting to come into flower and give the landscape a hint of purple. 2. Mushroom. 3. Some of that heather, common heather, which I enjoyed seeing there was lovely bell heather too. 4. Rowan berries which was nice to see. 9. Another Silver Y moth I loved seeing lately. 10. Hawksbit with a bee or hoverfly on.

In some time doing a Big Butterfly Count here bright and colourful Painted Lady, stalwart lately Red Admiral, Holly Blue and a few eyecatching Gatekeepers were highlights with Meadow Brown and Small White also seen. I got special views of charming Linnet, sharp and chirping Meadow Pipit and Buzzard soaring on the walk as well as surprisingly for such a rural spot a House Sparrow in a tree. Woodpigeon, Carrion Crow, Chaffinch heard, lesser spearwort looking nice in water, tormentil, daisy, bird's-foot trefoil and apples on an apple tree were also good to see.

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marshfiend · 2 years

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Fearsome Critters

Agropelter, a beast that amuses itself by hurling twigs and tree branches at passersby.

Axehandle hound, a beast that reputedly subsists on axe-handles left unattended, mentioned in Jorge Luis Borges' Book of Imaginary Beings.

Ball-tailed cat, a feline similar to a mountain lion, except with a long tail with a bulbous end used for striking its prey.

Bigfoot is an alleged ape/human-like hybrid creature of North American folklore. Cactus cat, a feline of the American Southwest with hair-like thorns that intoxicates itself by the consumption of cactus water.

Dungavenhooter, a crocodile creature with no mouth and huge nostrils. The creature uses its tail to pound loggers into a gaseous vapor, which it then inhales for sustenance.

Glawackus, an animal resembling a mixture of a lion, boar, or bear.

Gumberoo, a rare, hairless bear-like creature with nearly invulnerable skin. The animal's hide repels anything fired at it. Fire causes the gumberoo to combust in a massive explosion.

Hidebehind, an animal that seizes loggers and devours them. The animal was said to be so swift that it could hide behind the nearest tree before being seen.

Hodag, a creature of the Wisconsin swamps possessing horns and spines.

Hugag, an animal similar to a moose, with stiff, jointless legs, and a large upper lip preventing it from grazing or lying down.

Jackalope, a jackrabbit with the antlers of an antelope or deer.

Jersey Devil, a predatory creature that inhabits the pine forests of Southern New Jersey. The creature is often described as winged and bipedal, and sometimes connected to witchcraft and devil worship.

Sidehill gouger, an animal legged for hillsides having legs on one side taller than the other, thus always having to travel on hillsides.

Splintercat, a legendary cat of the Pacific Northwest that uses its incredible speed and stiff forehead to smash into large trees, knocking the branches off and withering the trunks.

Squonk, an animal which, saddened by its deformed countenance, cries incessantly and even dissolves into tears if seen.

Teakettler, a small variety of vermin that makes a noise like a teakettle.

Wampus cat, a large phantom panther that varies widely in appearance.

Whirling Whimpus, a gorilla-like monster with large arms and horse-like hooves, with the ability to spin around into a small tornado to catch prey, similar to Taz of Looney Tunes fame.

Belled buzzard, a vulture with a bell affixed to it. The ringing of which is cited as an omen of disaster.

Gillygaloo bird, a bird that lays square eggs, so they do not roll.

Goofus bird, a backwards-flying bird that builds its nest upside down.

Fur-bearing trout, a species of trout that grows a thick fur coat for warmth in cold climates.

Hoop snake, a snake that bites its tail to enable it to roll like a wheel.

Joint snake, a snake that can reassemble itself after being cut to pieces or break apart when hit with something.

Snallygaster, a bird/reptile-like hybrid beast said to inhabit the hills surrounding Washington and Frederick Counties of Maryland

Snow snake, a snake that is active only during winter months.

-Wikipedia

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clarktooncrossing · 5 months

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Giraffe's Eye View: Christmas Specials Special (2023) | From All Of Us to All Of You

Chestnuts are roasting on an open fire. Jack Frost is nipping at your nose. Mom and dad can hardly wait for school to start again. All the dogs in the neighborhood somehow learned to bark Jingle Bells in sync. Yet retail workers are still more annoyed with Mariah Carey. Snow is getting shoveled, tossed, and formed into sentient beings leading parades without permits. It makes for an excellent distraction as the Krampus abducts children for bad behavior. Fruitcake is exchanged only to find its permanent home in the garbage. Terrorists have hijacked the Holiday office party right before your boss can give you a Jelly of the Month Club membership as your bonus. And of course, the Turducken has returned to wreak its fiery vengeance upon an unsuspecting world! If all this doesn’t put you in the Christmas spirit, perhaps these following Holiday specials will!

Greetings people of today and robots of tomorrow! It is I, Santa Clark, your geeky giraffe friend with a deep love of Christmas! My obsession for the yuletide is rivaled only by Maleficent’s hatred for it, which is saying a lot considering she once teamed up with Mad Madam Mim to kidnap the literal Spirit of Christmas. Yes, that really happened. I know this due to my annual pilgrimage to the Island of Misfit Specials, home to obscure or nerdy festive media ranging from movies, TV episodes, and comics. It’s no easy journey. Constantly I find myself confronted by sinister snowmen, genocidal gingerbread men, and worst of all, crappy commercials. Getting stabbed in the foot by a candy-cane wielding cookie is one thing, but I swear I’ve seen that ad for Wilbur’s White Elephant Gift Emporium more times than I’ve seen Miracle on 34th Street! Sometimes at night I catch myself reciting that jingle. Wilbur’s White Elephant Gift Emporium: Where Christmas meets Convenience! Huh, maybe Maleficent had a point.

Nah, my deep-rooted appreciation for this time of year can weather even the most moronic marketing! It helps that most of the merry media I’ve seen have put me in the perfect Holiday mood! Examples include the time a Ninja Turtle found himself trapped in a truck full of stollen toys, a drunk department store Santa stumbling onto a wish-granting magic bag, Big Bird nearly becoming a popsicle, Gwenpool waking up in a world where Galactus took the place of jolly ol’ Saint Nicholas, a terrifying tree stump trying to slaughter some saps over a stupid ship war, and the year when Death gave the Little Match Girl the greatest gift of all. Needless to say, I thought I had seen it all. That is, until I took my friends on a trip to the Island, tasking them to find me new, strange, seasonal specials to review! Some of them were fair, finding me festive favorites as comforting as coco in front of the fireplace. Others were fiendish, wanting to feed off my misery like Gremlins after midnight. Regardless of how naughty or nice my companions were, I’ve compiled all of their suggestions into a makeshift advent calendar! So stay tuned everyday until Christmas to see how badly my buddies can shred what little sanity I have left.

On the thirteenth day of Christmas, my buddies gave to me...

Being a Disney fan today is hard. The parks have been ravaged, their films flop on arrival, their continued downplaying of animation is annoying, and don’t even get me started on how they handled this year’s Writer / Actor Strike. Not to say there’s no diamonds hidden in the rough every now and again, but for the most part the buzzards running the Mouse House believe in profits not pixie dust. Worse, they have forgotten the most crucial ingredient to any creative undertaking: risk. Go big or go home, make a splash or stay dry, spending money makes money. Perhaps no one knew this better than Walt Disney himself. The man mortgaged his home to finance Snow White, nearly drove his company to bankruptcy to build Disneyland, and embraced television when the rest of Hollywood cowered in fear of it. He understood that television could be a powerful marketing tool that could help his brand grow in the long haul. Ironic, innit? Uncle Walt became a beloved figure through the small screen, hosting the Disneyland series and making a brief appearance at the opening from From All Of Us to All Of You. Premiering in 1958, the seasonal special proved so popular that it airs along with a sampling of various shorts to this day in other countries. Including Sweden, home to the rambunctious robotroll SIM-N (Finjix), himself having fond memories of watching it with his family. Being a classic Disney fan myself, I was actually eager to see if the hype the malicious machine was peddling was valid.

A pity it’s not on Disney+! First the Star Wars Holiday special, then Snowed in at the House of Mouse, and now this!? You advertised everything would be on there, Bobby Boi. What gives!? Thankfully where you fail, the Internet succeeds! Let’s just say I found a copy well archived on a specific site. It also had One Hour in Wonderland, Walt’s original Holiday offering from 1950. Sadly it was nothing special, just the Magic Mirror from Snow White showing clips from several projects to Kathryn Beaumont, Bobby Driscoll, Edgar Burgen and his iconic puppet pals. Aside from Walt’s daughters Diane and Sharon making a brief cameo, this trip to Wonderland is only notable for how many times it promotes Coca Cola. Man, is anybody else thirsty for a Sunkist?

Let’s pop a cold one and we can check out From All Of Us together!

Walt, now the same size as Tinkerbell, welcomes us to the program. He wishes everyone at home a Merry Christmas before turning things over to the real musical Masters of Ceremony; Jiminy Cricket (Cliff Edwards) and Mickey Mouse. Together on piano the cartoon celebrities sing a rousing rendition of The Little Drummer Boy mixed with Peace on Earth! Or rather Jiminy just shows off his collection of Christmas cards. Each card cues up a segment from a beloved animated feature that’ll already has or will be unnecessarily rebooted in live-action. Which features depend on the version you're watching, this recreation including Bambi, Peter Pan, Cinderella, Pinocchio, Snow White and the Seven Dwarves, along with two additional short films, Toy Tinkerers and Santa’s Workshop. The former features famous foul Donald Duck (Clarence Nash) comically dueling against Chip and Dale in toy warfare, the latter showing Santa prepping at the Pole for his annual sleigh ride. It also features an unfortunate bit of blackface, something I hope is cut from reruns. At least they didn’t show an entire segment from Song of the South like One Hour did. Remember folks, Disney’s most controversial film was once endorsed by Coca-Cola!

Overall, From All Of Us is decent blend of Holiday warmth and Disney magic, a warm cup of cocoa laced with a pleasant amount of pixie dust. However, I feel like it’s unnecessary in this modern age. Call me crazy, but why watch this clip show when I’ve seen these movies in their entirety via VHS, DVD, Blu-Ray, or streaming? For SIM-N, the answer is comforting nostalgia. While I might see it as regifted film scenes with barely any new material, SIM-N sees it as an excuse to get together with his family and watch the moments that made us realize magic was real. Knowing that makes this special a yuletide treasure in my book. Still, if you want some comforting Christmas capers centered around Mickey Mouse, I can do you one better. Or should I say three better?

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