#AND LIKE THE WAY ITS SOFIA'S COLOR IN THE MOVIE AND SHE'S MATCHING HER AS SHE'S BETRAYING GONCHAROV!!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

robinskalechip · 5 years

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home - chapter one

robin buckley x reader

not really reader bc i put a name in place of it but its a robin x character that doesn’t actually exist

a/n: this is my first fic so bare with me, im also taking requests for mostly hcs and oneshots

not my gif!

chapter one - the first meeting

robin was into her second week as a high school senior and she was already ready to be done and over with the school year. everyone was moping around and pointing out all of their precious “lasts” of their high schools years while robin didn’t care much. band was the only thing that came to mind that she would miss.

after school, robin worked at the video store with steve and it was as if nothing had changed. she still kept count of how many times he failed at picking up girls. the kids still rushed in to see them, minus will and el who would have loved the discounted movie rentals. most of the time the kids didn’t even buy or rent the movies. they just had steve or robin put the movie of their choosing on the television in the store and they would sit there and watch while robin would keep on eye out for keith so they didn’t get in trouble.

robin was currently in the back of miss foster’s second period advanced english class, her head buried in a book she had been dying to read for a while that foster had gotten her hands on specifically for robin. miss foster could see robin perfectly and didnt mind that she didn’t have her eyes on the board because she knew robin was at least 60% listening and she probably could teach the class for her.

robin’s head shot up when she heard a subtle knock to her right. she looked up to see a girl in denium pants with a matching jacket that seems sligtly oversized. underneath she wore a simple pink tee shirt that was almost a peach color and a pair of black combat boots to tie the whole outfit together.

robin was always one to notice the details.

on her hands, she sported multiple simplistic rings and robin could barely see the leather bracelet that was being hidden by the jacket sleeves. her hair was messy, but in a way that made her seem put together if that makes sense. similar to robin’s, just darker and a bit fuller.

the stranger had her head peaking from the slightly opened classroom door and knocked once more.

“is this a bad time?”

robin had never seen miss foster’s face light up so quickly. she hurried her way from behind her desk to approach the girl.

the girl met her half way, her face now as bright as the sun with a smile as she received a tight hug from miss foster. foster then turned to the class, hand still on the girl’s back, and said “this is one of the good ones ” as she pointed to her, still smiling.

“what have you been up to”

the girl still carried her bright smile as she spoke, “i’m actually a junior journalist at the times”

somehow foster became even happier but was cut short when a student at the front of the class cleared his throat.

“can we get back to the lesson please”

robin didnt know the kid, not even his name. but she knew she didn’t like him. he was one of those kids that took high school way too seriously. as if he would die if a couple of minutes of the lesson were taken out. maybe he’s not as smart as he thinks he is because robin is doing just fine and she’s barely paying attention half the time.

the girl was polite about it, not showing any negative response. “i have a few other stops to make but i should be in town a while, i’m sure i’ll see you the next time i go to get a bagel or get gas”

foster smiled, “okay miss milani, stay out of trouble”

milani

robin felt the name was familiar. she could see some students from the other side of the room whispering amongst themselves.

the girl started to make her way back to the back of the room. robin watched her closely. she saw her smile drop slightly as she saw the students whispering and she guessed they saw her because the noise came to a sudden stop.

on her way out, her and robin’s eyes met for a brief moment. a small smile appeared on both of their faces as the girl exited.

robin had never felt more vulnerable yet more as peace then she had in those three seconds.

about ten minutes later the bell rang and robin quietly gathered her things and headed upstairs to mr. andrew’s advanced biology class, aka the one class she was struggling with this year despite it being one of her best subjects in prior years.

as she stepped through the doorway, her heart began to beat a little faster.

the girl who had previously interrupted miss foster’s class was now sat on mr. andrew’s front lab table. the two were talking and laughing. robin thought to herself, i guess she got on with a lot of the teachers here.

robin tried to remain calm as she searched her folder for her lab report she was meant to turn in yesterday. she decided to take care of dustin while he was home sick, today was steve’s turn. we love parenting. robin didn’t know why she was feeling so hectic but she tried her best to calm herself down as she walked to the front of the class, directly to mr. andrew, whose back was towards her as he spoke to the girl.

“andrew you got a patient”

mr. andrew turned around, arms folded and still smiling as he looked at robin. “ah miss buckley, we missed you yesterday.”

robin could feel the girl’s eyes on her as she tried to maintain eye contact with her teacher.

“im sorry, sir. i would have turned my lab in the day before if i had known i was going to be out-“

mr. andrew cut her off, “it’s no problem, really. i havent even started grading any of the labs yet.” he gave her a warm smile.

robin wondered why he was in such a good mood and her mind only went to one place; her.

mr. andrew took the paper from robin’s possession and went to his filing cabinet to place it in the current period’s file. in this process he was approached by another student as robin started to turn around to return to her desk until she was cut off once again, this time from the body on the lab table.

“you were in foster’s class, right?”

robin turned around slowly.

“yeah, you were the one who interrupted the class and made that imbecile have a cow”

the girl laughed, causing robin to as well. robin liked her laugh. it reminded her of the way the smith’s music made her feel; euphoric, even if for a short while.

the girl jumped down from the counter and extended her hand, “i’m sofia”

robin smiled as she took her hand, “i’m robin”

sofia

why does robin feel like she knows this name

“you’ve got two of the best teachers in hawkins, i hope you know that”. it seemed like no matter what this girl was saying she had a brightness to her, robin felt like she was going insane but in the best way possible.

“yeah i’m really enjoying them so far, it’s only been a couple of weeks but i think we all have a mutual understanding of each other. foster knows i don’t directly pay attention but i know what’s happening and andrew knows i am only a unit in and i’m already lost”

she laughed again

“biology was a bitch for me too. try asking for mrs. samuel in the library, she helped me out loads before i left. that was just for regular bio but she seems to know what she’s doing.”

“how long have-“

robin was cut off by the mr. andrew telling the class to take their seats as he wrote down the days objectives.

the girl had briefly turned her attention to him to say goodbye and then followed behind robin as she went to leave, stopping once she reached robin’s desk.

she picked up the book robin had accidentally left on her desk as she was searching her bag and read to quietly to herself, “the price of salt”

robin was still standing by her chair as she looked at the girl staring at the novel, feeling slightly uneasy about the reaction she might recieve. but all that anxiety was quickly whisked away as the girl smiled at her, book still in hand.

“it’s one of my favorites. its an absolutely beautiful love story”

her face seems even brighter somehow, perhaps she really liked the story.

the two looked at each other a little too long, but surprisingly, despite just meeting, had no “awkward silence” between them

“i’ll leave you to andrew but um..check out mrs. samuel and i’ll hopefully see you around”

the girl headed out of the door and turned her head slightly at the last minute to give robin another warm smile that which robin returned as if it was almost instinctive.

robin thought about that smile for the rest of the day.

next chapter

#stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #robin buckley #robin x you #robin x y/n #robin x reader #robin buckley x you #robin buckley x reader

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spotlightsaga · 7 years

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Kevin Cage of @spotlightsaga reviews… I Love Dick (S01E02) The Conceptual Fuck Airdate: May 12, 2017 @amazonvideo Ratings: @amazon streaming only Score: 8.25/10

***********SPOILERS BELOW**********

Just like the first episode of ‘I Love Dick’, the second is over in a flash. It happens so quickly, so ferociously fast, with these seemingly large events that have a heavy significance on these characters, that they are almost too fast to catch. There’s irony in there somewhere because I can see someone easily professing that not much is happening, but in its characterization so much is transpiring I can almost feel my neck break from the whiplash. The episode opens with who I am assuming to be the two head honchos of the Venice Film Festival where Chris’ film had to be pulled because of music rights. They are attempting to watch the film and it looks straight up awful. It’s a lot like the French-Belgian film referenced in this very episode, Chantal Akerman’s 1974 black and white, supposedly charged with raw feminism ‘Je, Tu, Il, Elle’, just without any kind of hypnotic beat, sensuality, or weird lesbian sex scene where two women wrestle around in the bed, looking like an early WWF Women’s Wrestling Match during Post-Attitude Era when women with actual talent and showmanship were actually in the ring. Sorry, I have really weird, repressed, mixed feelings towards that film. Anyway, the two Italian Men toss it because they can’t take it anymore and then we cut back to Marfa, TX. Prepare for lots of cuts, I am very well aware of the presence of editors Julie Cohen & Christal Khatib.

Again there are some really strange, very human moments in this episode. I personally haven’t read the book, but my bestie in Brooklyn raves about it, even calling it her favorite. I keep going back to three big moments in the episode and I’m running them through my mind trying to figure out where these people are coming from. The first is when Chris shows up and interrupts Dick’s seminar, much to the chagrin of Sylvere, who believes that Chris attempting to attend Dick’s seminar is crossing a line in their fantasy that he’s just not comfortable with. Chris could give two shits, obviously this isn’t really a two way street, and shows up anyway… Later lying to Sylvere about being able to get in, claiming that it was full.

She brings a laptop with her terrible film on it and she’s literally a hot mess, once again a possible reference to 'Je, Tu, Il, Elle’… Her phone goes off, she’s bumbling all over the place, Dick dismisses his class and watches a few seconds of her horrible, horrible film and she legit, *and I can’t get over it*, but she legit strokes his head as he’s bent over watching the film. The gesture, the moment, his response to immediately shut the laptop and tells Chris, 'Its not my thing,’ It all sent me into a sort-of paralyzing shock. WTF just happened? Chris freaks out and points out that he hasn’t made art in 7 years and that brick he had set out as an art piece wasn’t art at all… To which he affirmed his love for straight lines. The rich metaphor isn’t lost on me, I died laughing and am chuckling as I’m writing this but I think it’s a combination of that comment and everything that happened so fast in that scene. My love for it increases with repeat views.

Meanwhile, Sylvere is having his own awkward encounters with the woman he met in the first episode, Toby (India Menuez)… This one I had to watch twice as well. Both Sylvere and Chris might have reinvigorated their sex life with this weird sexual fantasy about the mysterious, straight line loving 'Dick’, but they are tanking in the Marfa social scene. Sylvere questions Toby’s taste in art, finding out that her project is about 'looking at hardcore porn without judgement’, and verbatim, 'So I reduce it to its shapes.’ He takes the judgement further and calls her a child and asks her why she’s obsessed with porn, then reduces her to her beauty. The ironic and stunningly ignorant comment is met with the long pause from Toby, striking facial emotional-responding realization and then she simply tells Sylvere, 'You’re awful.’ And again the scene cuts fast, it’s almost dizzying, like I don’t have time to react. The cut is to a red screen with Chris’ words appearing large in and in charge on the screen, 'Dear Dick, I will not be muzzled.’ Only later when I’m sorting out my feelings on the episode, I find myself laughing at the quick edits, and just slightly tonally jarring direction led by the great Kimberly Pierce (a woman who literally burst on to the scene in '99 with the Oscar Winning 'Boys Don’t Cry’). I don’t even know what to think.

Chris returns home after her disastrous meeting with Dick, finding Devon (Roberta Colindrez) installing a water heater or some sort of handy-woman work (see what I did there?), and after the initial shock that someone is in her house, Chris goes right to ranting. Asking her if she knows who the director Maya Deren is, saying that Maya is supposed to be the most important female director of all time. Devon replies No, which I’m guessing most people wouldn’t know her either. Deren was big in the way Indy Bands are big now, but in the 40’s. I know film pretty well, but Meren is mainly a mystery, and while I’m familiar with a lot of films in the 50’s, they are more of Monster Movie in taste (I love classic, iconic trash 50’s cinema, like 'The Blob’, 'Alligator Man’, 'Them’). Trancey, experimental avant-garde types… No the 40’s would be far too early for me to consume that type of genre, despite its cultural importance.

It’s just hilarious to me to see Chris go on and on about how she likes mainstream directors and hates Sofia Coppola, who I’ve always loved btw… Chris cites Sofia’s 'perfect chestnuts highlights’ as another reason she hates her, 'Ooh, hey, how’d you get that brunette? A lotta money!’ I’m literally dead. 😂 Devon starts to follow her around, she’s literally mesmerized by Chris’ unhinged rant. Chris is now just asking rhetorical questions and ranting on as Devon almost salivates at Chris’ crazy as a pure inhibited spectator, 'It is a wonder that any woman could think of herself as an artist.’ Devon actually responds here… 'Uhm, I’m an artist too, so…’ Chris barely recognizes she spoke, muttering back, 'Oh, I didn’t realize’, like that has any bearing on the conversation that could’ve blossomed from there. I’m usually pretty empathetic but if I wasn’t laughing so hard from her rant and the Sofia Coppola comments, who once again I’ve always been fond of, I probably would have reached through the tv and pulled Chris’ hair a bit. I wonder what kind of rant Chris would produce about the cultural cancer of Oxygen’s 'Bad Girls Club’. In a perfect world, there would be an extra scene that Amazon would allow subscribers to see an outtake of this very scenario.

I guess Chris’ interaction with Dick is so jarring that she starts to rip down all the letters she wrote to Dick from the lines strung across her bedroom. And it appears Chris’ visit to Dick’s class was so jarring we see him sitting on his porch staring intently into the Great wide Texan open, clearly annunciating her name in full, 'Chris Kraus’. The editing is fantastic in these final moments (tho to be fair it’s great the whole way through). We see Devon shirtless, confidently writing as if a lightbulb is literally shining bright above her head. Sylvere somberly mopes back through town to his home. This is when we cut to 'Je, Tu, Il, Elle’ where the protagonist speaks about taking everything she had written and spreading it out, then just laying in bed. Cut to Chris laying in bed looking up at the empty wire dawned with clothespins that once held all the letters to Dick, the same letters that had Sylvere and Chris fucking like they had just met each other. Sylvere walks in professing that he hates the town and tries to sit next to Chris and touch her, but without the letters there is no longer warmth and a red pulsing glow in their bedroom. She jerks away from him and claims her 'skin is tight’. Yeesh.

Suki & Geoff arrive at Devon’s trailer and she reveals what she was fervently writing about… A play… About a couple from New York… A woman… She wants to 'become somebody’… 'But she hates herself’… Another quick cut, God I’m in love with these editors… Chris is packing up all her letters to Dick. Cut to Dick who sees a snake, slithering in the very opposite manner of the straight lines he claims to love so much. He arranges multiple rocks in the shape of the slithering, wavy snake and runs along side of them. Is this Dick beginning to let go of his rigid nature? Cut back to Chris who is walking into Dick Jarrett’s office and drops off a box containing all the letters she had written Dick, and so passionately made love to her husband under. The box is tied with a single ribbon, and there’s a dead moth at one corner of the box with a card… 'To: Dick Jarrett / From: Chris Kraus’… Cut to RED. That’s the perfect color alright.

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readingactually · 6 years

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Book Spotlight: Best Beach Ever by Wendy Wax

Release Day

May 22,2018

Read an excerpt: ONE Nicole Grant Giraldi stood in front of a far-too-full-length mirror that hung on a wall of the too-small cottage where she, her husband special agent Joe Giraldi, and their twin daughters currently lived. It exposed two primary reasons women were not designed to give birth at forty-seven; lack of elasticity and surplus gravity. She closed one eye and shifted slightly, but the expanse of flesh did not become easier to contemplate. Despite all of her fears and doubts, the body she was staring at had performed admirably. It had adapted and stretched to accommodate Sofia and Gemma. Against great odds, it had carried them full term, propelled them into the world nine months ago, and then provided sustenance. What it had not done was snap back into anything that resembled its previous shape. Her eyes slid away. She forced them back. It was time to accept reality. Her breasts hung lower than seemed anatomically possible. Blue veins streaked across them no doubt to match the ones that now crisscrossed the legs she’d once been proud of. Stretch marks cut across the stomach that jiggled as she turned. Although she knew it was a mistake, she looked at her rear end, which had grown wider and had somehow been injected with cottage cheese. Most likely while she’d been sleeping. Or confined to bed-rest. “Are you ready?” Joe called. She sighed and turned her back on the mirror as she wriggled into a jogging bra, slipped her arms into a T-shirt, then began to pull the too-tight lycra up over her thighs. “Almost!” “I’m going to put the girls in the stroller. We’ll be outside.” Nikki tied her hair back into a low ponytail, donned a lightweight running jacket and laced up her shoes. Careful not to look at herself again, she left the bedroom and made it through the tiny cottage in a matter of seconds. It was the second day of January. On the west coast of central Florida, that meant a vivid blue sky, butter yellow sun, and a cool salt breeze. She breathed in the crisp air as she stepped onto the concrete path that bisected the Sunshine Hotel property and nearly stumbled at the sight of Joe and the girls waiting for her. Were they really all hers? Tamping down a swell of emotion, she moved toward the stroller taking in the pink and white knit hats neatly tied beneath their chins and the streaks of sunscreen slathered over their cheeks. Sofia had her father’s dark hair, sparkling brown-black eyes, and sunny temperament while Gemma was auburn haired and green eyed like Nikki. Where Gemma’s oversized lungs and the will to use them had come from, was still under debate. “All present, recently diapered, and accounted for. Requesting permission to move out.” Joe shot her a wink and saluted smartly. Though he was closing in on fifty, Joe remained broad shouldered and hard bodied with a chiseled face and piercing dark eyes that too often saw right through her; a skill she blamed on his FBI training. They’d met when he’d used her to help him catch her younger brother Malcolm Dyer, whose three hundred million dollar Ponzi scheme had left Nikki and then-strangers Madeline Singer and Avery Lawford with nothing but shared ownership of Bella Flora, a 1920s Mediterranean revival mansion at the south end of the beach. She saluted back and fell into step beside him. A few doors down they passed the two- bedroom cottage that Madeline Singer, her daughter Kyra and grandson Dustin had just moved into. “It’ll be great having Maddie here, but it’s so strange to think of someone else living in Bella Flora,” Nikki said thinking of the house they’d brought back from the brink of ruin and that had done the same for them. After they’d first renovated Bella Flora Dustin’s famous father, mega-movie star Daniel Deranian, had bought it for Dustin and Kyra. It had become home to all of them when they’d needed one most, but Kyra had been forced to rent it out. “Yeah,” Joe agreed as they wheeled passed Bitsy Baynard’s one bedroom, which the former heiress had taken in lieu of repayment for the money she’d put into their now defunct TV show. “When is Bitsy coming back?” “I don’t know. She said she was going to stay in Palm Beach until she found someone who knew something about where Bertie is hiding.” Nikki grimaced. In her former life as an A-list matchmaker, Nikki had brought Bitsy, heiress to a timber fortune, and her husband together and had counted them as one of her biggest successes. Right up until last January when Bertie disappeared with Bitsy’s fortune and an exotic dancer who was pregnant with his child. When the walkway split they wheeled the stroller toward the low slung main building, a mid-century gem that they’d renovated for what they’d hoped would be a new season of their TV show, Do Over. The sound of voices and the scrape of furniture reached them from the new rooftop deck, where tables and chairs were being set up. The pool area was quiet. The lifeguard would take his place on the retro lifeguard stand at noon when temperatures had risen and the rooftop grille started cranking out hot dogs and hamburgers. By the time they wheeled through the opening in the low pink wall and onto the beach, Nikki was feeling slightly winded. Joe was not. Despite the weak morning sun and the breeze off the gulf, he pulled off his T-shirt and tucked one end into the waistband of his running shorts. His chest and abs were hard, his arms and legs muscled. Dark hair smattered with gray dusted his chest and arrowed downward. She considered his body with an unhealthy mixture of admiration and jealousy. And a devout wish that men carried the babies in our species. “You know we don’t have to run,” he said when they reached the hard packed sand near the water’s edge. “It’s a gorgeous day just to be outside.” “Definitely gorgeous,” she agreed admiring the dip and dance of sunlight on the slightly choppy water’s surface. A windsurfer skimmed by as she began to stretch, his brightly colored sail bulging with wind. “But I know you’re ready for a run.” She had to hold onto his shoulder as she reached back to grab her foot and stretch her quads. “And so am I.” “All right.” When she’d finished stretching, he flashed her a smile and opened his arms wide, leaving their direction up to her. “Lead the way.” To their right lay the historic Don CeSar Hotel and the northern half of St. Petersburg Beach. In the other direction… she shrugged as if it didn’t matter, but she could not deny the tug she felt. Without a word she pivoted left and broke into a slow jog, heading toward the southern tip of Pass-a-Grille. And Bella Flora. Joe turned the stroller and fell in beside her. For a few heady minutes she simply gave herself up to the fresh air, the wash of water on and off the sand, and the caw of gulls wheeling through the sky. But it wasn’t long before her breathing grew uneven and her strides became shorter. She flushed with embarrassment when she realized that he had checked his stride to match hers. Her chin went up and she picked up her pace. She’d recently weaned the girls to formula and while nursing had helped her drop weight, she was going to have to do more than a crawl if she ever hoped to get her body back. “You worry about yourself and the girls,” she snapped careful not to huff or puff. “I’ll be fine.” “Okay,” he said easily. “You’re the boss.” His movements remained fluid, but she could still feel him holding back. “There’s no shame in taking it easy, Nik. And walking is exercise too. A walk could be nice.” “Right.” Surely that wasn’t her breathing that sounded so…labored. Or her legs that had turned into lead weights. She pinned a smile on her lips and focused her eyes down the beach. She’d run this distance a thousand times. There was no reason she couldn’t do it now. She woulddo it now. And if she felt a little uncomfortable, well no one had ever died from discomfort. Otherwise she would have expired early in her pregnancy. She picked up her pace another notch and ignored Joe’s look of concern. She was not going to whine or complain and she most definitely wasn’t going to walk. Breathing was overrated. And it was nothing compared to pride. # Shortly before her life imploded, Madeline Singer had decided to refurbish it slightly. Her nest had emptied and she’d hit the big five-oh. The time seemed right to take down a few metaphorical walls. Raise a few ceilings. Open things up. What she’d envisioned as a minor renovation turned into a total gut job when her husband lost everything in Malcolm Dyer’s Ponzi scheme. The life she’d only planned to tweak got demo’d; blown to bits before her eyes. There were casualties. Somehow she managed to drag her family clear of the rubble. Ultimately, those who were still standing constructed a new life; one that bore almost no resemblance to the original. Not exactly a ‘do over,’ but a chance to do and be more. Today was January second. The first useable day of a brand new year and once again her life was under construction. Yesterday she, her daughter Kyra and her four-year-old grandson Dustin and Dustin’s new puppy Max, had moved out of Bella Flora into the newly renovated two bedroom cottage she stood in now. Soon Kyra and Dustin would go to Orlando so that Dustin could play his father’s son in Daniel Deranian’s directorial debut. At which point Maddie would be completely on her own. A fact that both excited and terrified her. In the kitchen, the lack of counter space forced her to work more efficiently and in less than fifteen minutes she’d assembled an egg souffle, slid it into the oven, and set the timer. The souffle was of the never fail variety, guaranteed to pouf in exactly sixty minutes. Unlike life, which came with no guarantees and often ‘poufed’ when you least expected it. Soon the scent of melting cheese teased her nostrils and began to fill the air. She pictured it wafting down the short hallway to the second bedroom, slipping under the closed door, and crooking its finger. While she waited she put on a pot of coffee and puttered, unpacking and organizing the exceedingly compact kitchen. The cottage felt like a dollhouse after the castle-like Bella Flora, but Maddie felt oddly content. She lacked space and income and her resume consisted only of a brief and excruciatingly public stint on their renovation-turned-reality TV show. But the cottage belonged to her. And so did the new life that lay ahead. A text dinged in and the face of William Hightower, the rock icon formerly known as William the Wild, appeared on the screen. A reminder that the life that lay ahead included a relationship with a man whose poster had once hung on her teenaged bedroom wall. Mornin’ Maddie-fan. Hud and the fish send their regards. Ha. She had discovered early on that the fish that lived in the Florida Keys had a nasty sense of humor. Despite Will’s efforts to teach her how to fly cast, she was no threat to the fish population and they knew it. Catch anything yet? Nope. But the sun’s on the rise and it’s so beautiful down here this morning I’m not sure I care. Liar. Will loved to be out on the flats around Islamorada above all things, but he did not like to be bested by anything covered with scales. True. And Hud’s making me look bad. He and the fish want to know when you’re coming to visit. They’re just looking for entertainment. Hudson Power, Will’s longtime friend and fishing guide, had taught her to drive a boat and been very patient with her ineptness at fly casting. But she was fairly certain she’d heard the fish laughing at her on more than one occasion. True. He texted again. But I miss you madly, Maddie fan. A warm glow formed in her chest and radiated outward. She did not understand why Will, who had finally won his own personal war on drugs and was once again topping the charts, had chosen her when he could have his pick of younger, prettier, and undoubtedly firmer women, but she’d finally stopped asking. Plus it was hard to argue with his physical reaction to her. Her cheeks flamed at the thought and despite her two left thumbs, she was very glad they were texting and not face-timing. When are you coming down to Mermaid Point? They had met when their former network sent Madeline, Kyra, Avery Lawford, and Nicole Grant down to the Keys with instructions to turn Will’s private island into a Bed and Breakfast; an idea he did not appreciate in the least. As soon as Kyra and Dustin leave for Orlando. Kyra, who’d met and fallen for the megastar on her very first film set, was not at all happy about the upcoming film. Or having to spend six weeks on set with Daniel and his equally famous movie star wife, Tonja Kay. Can u tell me when? In 2 weeks. That’s 2 weeks 2 long. She was still smiling when she heard the first sounds of movement from the second bedroom. By the time she’d finished setting the dinette table, pulled the orange juice out of the refrigerator, and cut up a bowl of fruit, there were only a few minutes left on the timer. A woof and the shake of a dog’s collar were followed by the creak of a bedframe. Despite the early hour, the souffle had worked its magic. She poured herself a cup of freshly brewed coffee. Today was the first day of the rest of her life. Now all she had to do was figure out what to do with it. In the small second bedroom of her mother’s cottage, Kyra woke to the scents of coffee and egg soufflé. Dustin slept on the railed bunk bed above her. Max, the Great Dane puppy his father had unexpectedly and unaccountably given him for Christmas, stood next to her whimpering. She did not want to get up, but she definitely didn’t want to clean up another accident. Max nudged her with his wet, cold nose and she threw off her sheets. Today was not a good day. Today was the day a stranger would move into Bella Flora. Max began to circle and sniff the floor. Kyra sat up, careful not to hit her head on the upper bunk. She was debating whether she could make a run to the bathroom when Max’s whimper turned more urgent. “Got it. Hold on!” She grabbed him and raced for the door, holding him out in front of her. “Good morning.” Maddie moved to throw open the door. “Um-hmmm.” She sniffed appreciatively as they passed the oven that held the souffle. Madeline Singer was the mother everyone deserved but didn’t necessarily get. She’d created a home everywhere they’d landed from the initially uninhabitable Bella Flora to Max Golden’s neglected Deco home on South Beach to the rickety houseboat tethered to William Hightower’s dock. While Max anointed the grass and the nearest bush, she lifted her cell phone and roused it. The first six months rent had been released from escrow and deposited into her account, but the sight of all those zeros didn’t make her anywhere near as happy as it should have. It meant there was not going to be a last minute reprieve. The tenant would move in today. For the next six months he/she/or them would have the run of Bella Flora and the option to stay on for six more months after that. Which meant she and Dustin and Max could be sharing a bedroom in Maddie’s cottage for an entire year while a stranger lived in the house they’d poured their hearts and souls into and that was ‘home’ in every way that mattered. She’d been a fool to believe that everything would somehow magically work out when she’d taken the loan to finance the Sunshine Hotel renovation and their own version of Do Over. Max woofed happily as she pulled a plastic bag from her pocket, picked up his ‘offering,’ then dropped it in a nearby trashcan. She’d changed Dustin’s diapers easily enough but she’d known the day would come when he could toilet on his own. Unless they moved into a rural setting Max was never going to be able to dispose of his own droppings. She did not want to think about how big Max was going to get, or what size plastic bag he would one day require. Inside, she found Dustin sitting at the dinette drinking a cup of orange juice and chatting with his favorite person. That person held out a cup of coffee. “Thanks, Mom.” She swallowed a long sip, let the warmth slide down her throat. “The money’s in my account.” “That’s a good thing, Kyra. That will definitely take some of the pressure off.” “I know. But …” “Come eat.” Three plates containing souffle, buttered toast, and fresh fruit were on their way to the table. Within minutes Kyra was seated. She picked up her fork, but her appetite had fled. “Kyra, you need to let go of the worry. It’s done. Bella Flora’s only on loan. She still belongs to Dustin and you. Emotionally she’ll always belong to all of us.” “It’s just….” Kyra took a bite of souffle, but her usual bliss over the cheesy wonderfulness was missing. She needed to see the tenant for herself. Needed to make sure he wasn’t some Atilla the Hun of houses, bent on destruction. Or someone fronting for Daniel Deranian and Tonja Kay for some nefarious reason she’d yet to figure out. She took another bite of souffle then washed it down with another long pull of coffee. John Franklin was meeting the tenant at eleven to hand over the key. She stole a glance at her phone. It was early. There would be plenty of time after a leisurely breakfast to shower and dress and discover that she’d left something at Bella Flora that they couldn’t possibly be expected live without. # Avery Lawford did not want to get out of bed. Not now. Not ever. She clutched the pillow more tightly to her chest and kept her eyes shut. It would take a crowbar to pry them open. A tow truck to move her. Something warm passed under her nose. It smelled dark and steamy before it moved just out of range then back again. The lovely fog of sleep that had enveloped her began to dissipate. She closed her eyes tighter and wished she could shut her nostrils, but Avery braked for coffee. She drank it for the protection of others and had the T-shirt to prove it. She burrowed deeper into the cocoon of blankets but her nose betrayed her. No. She would not be ruled by coffee. She was stronger than coffee. The smell retreated. She’d begun to relax back into sleep when the crinkle of paper sounded near her ear. There was movement. A new scent joined the first. She sniffed, a reflex nothing more. She was only human. Sugar. “Avery?” Chase Hardin’s voice was warm and seductive. “There’s nothing you could say or do that would make me get out of this bed right now.” “Nothing?” The bed dipped as he sat on its edge. “You mean you don’t want this Dunkin Donuts coffee or glazed donuts?” He waved each item as he mentioned it. His voice grew muffled as he took a bite of donut and chewed appreciatively. “Ummm, that’s good.” He bent over and kissed her with warm lips sticky with sugar. This was what came of sleeping with a man who knew your weaknesses. She opened her eyes. A large Styrofoam cup of coffee sat on the nightstand. Chase finished off the donut, licked his fingers and grinned. “I don’t remember the last time I spent almost two days in bed.” His blue eyes glittered. Dark stubble covered his cheeks and his hair stuck up in a variety of directions. “I thought we needed sustenance.” When she didn’t make a move, he drew a donut out of the bag and placed it on a napkin next to the cup of coffee. She’d known Chase since childhood, much of which she’d spent crushing on him. They’d grown up on their fathers’ construction sites, gone their separate ways. She’d become an architect. He’d taken over Hardin Morgan Construction. He’d been a royal pain in the ass the whole time he was helping them renovate Bella Flora. And then one day he wasn’t. “Your cupboards are bare,” he said. “A man cannot live on sex and Cheez Doodles alone.” “This woman can,” she replied stung that he would disparage the snack that in the darkest of times could help make life worth living. “I give that donut and coffee about fifteen seconds.” He looked at her knowingly. She wanted to argue. And she really, really wanted to be asleep. She could resist if she wanted to. She could. But what would be gained by rejecting a warm, gooey glazed donut and a steaming cup of coffee? “If you were looking at me like you’re looking at that donut right now we could spend another two days in bed.” He stretched and scratched his chest. “I owe my sister big time for having Dad and the boys up for the week.” His blue eyes turned dark and steamy. They were a magnetic force. The siren call of coffee and donuts grew softer as a shiver of anticipation snaked up her spine. They’d been in bed since New Year’s Eve and today was… “Oh, no!” She sat up. “What?” “What day is it?” She ran her hands under the covers but her phone wasn’t there. “It’s Monday.” “Are you sure?” He nodded without hesitation. “But that means it’s…” “… January second,” they said simultaneously. But it was just a date on the calendar to him. She began scooting out of bed. “What time is it?” He glanced down at his watch. “It’s .…ten forty.” She took one bite of donut, swallowed it whole, and grabbed the cup of coffee. “How far away did you park?” She moved toward the bathroom very glad the cottage was so tiny. “Hmmm?” “You didn’t park here at the Sunshine, right? I told you I didn’t want anyone to know that we’re…you know…” She nodded toward the bed, which looked like it had been struck by a hurricane. Or lifted by a tornado and tossed around for a night or two. “Everybody knows, Avery. There’s no reason to keep it a secret that we’re back together.” “But we’re not back together.” She raced into the bathroom, turned on the shower, raced back to retrieve the donut. “Having sex doesn’t mean we’re back together. It just means we’re still attracted to each other and spent a couple of days in bed to celebrate the New Year.” Their relationship had foundered during his youngest son Jason’s meltdown and rebellion. Jason was doing better now and repeating his senior year of high school, but Avery could still remember exactly how it felt to be pushed away when things got rough. Other than Maddie, Nikki, and Kyra, the Hardins were the closest thing to family she had yet Chase had completely shut her out when Jason had gone off the rails. Out of the family and out of Hardin Morgan Construction. That they were dating again was due to his abject apologies and powers of persuasion. She enjoyed his company and the sex was spectacular, but she didn’t intend to open herself up to that kind of hurt again any time in this millennium. And she was not prepared to tie her career to his. She devoured the donut in a few hungry bites then stepped into the now hot shower. Ten minutes later she was running a comb through her short blond hair and pulling on a pair of jeans and a Do Over T-shirt. She could almost hear her mother’s ghost hovering above her and sighing over her lack of makeup, but she was a wash and wear kind of girl. And though she no longer hid the Dolly Parton sized bust that was too large for her height in oversized clothes, she had not yet reconciled to the big blue eyes and Kewpie Doll features that caused strangers to deduct IQ points before she even opened her mouth. “Are you staying here or coming with me?” “Where are we going?” He grabbed the bag of donuts. “Out.” “Out where?” She grabbed the keys to the mini-Cooper and headed for the front door. # Nikki and Joe sat at their favorite picnic table at the Paradise Grille overlooking the white sand beach and the gulf that it bounded. A stream of beachgoers passed in both directions. A jovial game of corn hole played out in the soft sand nearby. Sofia and Gemma snoozed happily in the stroller, their faces smeared with the remnants of a scrambled egg breakfast. Seagulls eyed the crumbs left on their plates but so far no dive-bombing had occurred. “God they’re adorable when they’re asleep,” Nikki said looking at the girls’ angelic faces. “Not that they aren’t adorable when they’re awake, but…” “… you’re too busy trying to keep them happy to notice.” Nikki looked at Joe. “You don’t even bat an eyelash when Gemma goes on a screaming jag. Or one of them projectile vomits all over you.” “I may have ended up in the financial crimes unit, but I do have hostage negotiation training,” he said wryly. “I know how to look like I’m not panicking even when I’m scared shitless.” “So when do you think you’ll be able to actually start negotiating with them?” “Well, we know from personal experience that it doesn’t work on pregnant women,” he said. “I can’t remember convincing you of a single thing while you were carrying them. So while I don’t know that there’s a lower age limit, it’s clear rational thought is necessary. And probably the ability to speak or at least understand and process language are too.” “Great.” Nikki slumped. Every morning she vowed this would be the day that she’d become competent and un-harried. The kind of mother who loved her children so much that she never resented the endless demands that created the near constant state of exhaustion. “I’ve got another ten days or so and then I’m going to have to start traveling again.” Her heart sunk further. “Oh?” “Yeah. Which is why I really think we ought to hire someone to help you.” “No. I’m their mother. Taking care of them is my job.” Not a job she’d ever imagined for herself. But it wasn’t one you could resign from. “Nik, they’re too much for the two of us a lot of the time. I can’t leave you alone.” “I won’t be alone,” she said trying to keep the panic out of her eyes and her voice. “Maddie will help. And…Avery and Bitsy will be nearby.” Neither of them mentioned that Bitsy had fallen down on the job the night Nikki had gone into labor. “Kyra and Dustin will be leaving for Orlando in two weeks. And Maddie won’t have a reason to stay here. She’ll be free to travel. Or spend time with Will. Or whatever she feels like. And Avery and Bitsy have no experience with children and aren’t looking to acquire it. Plus they’ll both be working. “I can do it,” she said. “End of conversation.” “But, Nikki. I…” His face smoothed out. She saw him relax his features, his shoulders. Hostage negotiation training her ass. “Ready to head back?” She’d barely made it this far. In fact, about halfway there she’d been doing more of a brisk walk than a slow jog. “I was thinking maybe I could run back to the cottage and come pick you all up in the car.” He looked at her face. “You know, in case you’d like to just chill here for a while.” “Don’t think I can make it back?” she challenged though she wasn’t totally sure she could. She only knew she was not going to appear too tired or too overwhelmed or too anything in front of him. “No, of course not. I just thought you might want to get back more quickly. It’s getting close to eleven.” “Eleven?” She sat up. “Yes.” “I wouldn’t mind walking a little further. There’s really no rush to get back is there?” “No.” “The girls love the jetty. And the fishermen on the dock.” He gave her a long look. “Sure. Why not?” He busied himself gathering the paper plates and cups and was gentleman enough not to say anything when she took her time getting to her feet. # “That was one of your best egg soufflés ever, Mom. Right Dustin?” Freshly showered and dressed, Kyra strode back into the living room/kitchen where Dustin stood on a stool ‘helping’ his grandmother wash the dishes. “D’licious,” he agreed waving his hands, which were encased in a pair of too-large rubber gloves. Max was under the table licking up the bits of egg that surrounded Dustin’s chair. “What do we say to Grandma?” Kyra asked Dustin as she stole a glance at the clock on the wall then turned her gaze to the coffee table where the car keys typically ended up. “Thank you Geema!” Dustin crowed. “You’re both very welcome,” Maddie said hiding her smile at the speed with which Kyra located and pocketed the car keys. “If you don’t mind keeping an eye on Dustin, I… I have a couple of things I need to take care of.” Kyra didn’t quite meet her eye as she laid a kiss on Dustin’s head and moved toward the door. “Things?” Maddie asked. “Umm-hmmm.” “Dustin wanna do things too!” Dustin clambered down from the step and held out his arms. Maddie peeled the large yellow gloves from beneath his armpits and down his arms. Kyra checked the clock again. “It’s ten-fifty,” Maddie said. “Where exactly are you going?” “Oh, you know. Here and there. Not far,” Kyra babbled. “I won’t be gone long.” “Kyra…” Her daughter looked up as if she’d been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. “I really don’t think this is a good idea.” “I … don’t know what you’re talking about,” Kyra protested. “It would be better to just stay away,” Maddie said gently. “Stay away from what?” Kyra adopted an expression of surprised confusion, but any mother worth her salt could read a daughter’s face like a roadmap. It would take more than feigned indignation to make Maddie believe she was headed out to run errands. “Kyra.” “Fine.” Kyra sighed. “It’s not like there’s any chance of keeping a secret when we’re living on top of each other like this anyway.” “If you’re going, we’re going with you.” She picked up the leash and attached it to Max’s collar then handed Dustin his sweatshirt. “Where we going Geema?” Dustin asked as his mother pulled open the cottage door. “If I’m not mistaken, I think we’re going to Bella Flora to get a look at the person who’s going to live there.” TWO Kyra breathed deeply as she drove south on the narrow two lane road, but each breath carried its own little dart of panic that sent her fear of who and what she’d find at Bella Flora shooting through her. She turned on to Gulf Way, her thoughts jumbled and her gaze slightly unfocused. The familiar scenery rippled and shimmered before her eyes giving the mom and pop hotels and expensive new homes on her left and the low wall and crossovers that bordered the beach on her right, a fun house vibe. The blocks were short and the avenues that stretched from the bay to the gulf were even shorter. At The Hurricane Restaurant her foot eased further off the gas pedal so that the minivan passed Eighth Avenue, Pass-a-Grille’s ‘main street,’ at what could only be called a crawl. The closer they got to Bella Flora the slower she drove and the sharper and more pointed the panic became. What if the tenant was Daniel Deranian or Tonja Kay or one of their emissaries? What if he/she/they were trust fund babies with no respect for other people’s property? What if they looked unstable or had a herd of children who would abuse Dustin’s mini-Bella Flora playhouse? The number of things the new tenant would be free to do in/and/or to her home bombarded her. How could she let some stranger sleep in her bed? Hang their clothes in her closet? Lie on their couch? Mix drinks in the Casbah Lounge? How on earth could she have let this happen? “We can still turn around,” Maddie said. “It’s not too late.” She hesitated. “No one will ever know we even thought about doing this.” But though she was driving as slowly as any newly arrived retiree, Bella Flora’s gravitational pull was simply too strong to resist. So was Kyra’s urge to protect her even though it was far too late for that. They passed a couple pushing a jogging stroller. That couple was Nikki and Joe. So much for a lack of witnesses. And then she came face to face with Bella Flora. Rising out of the low walled garden. A pale pink wedding cake of a house with banks of windows framed in white icing trim and bell towers that topped a multi-angled barrel-tile roof and jutted up into the brilliant blue sky. “We going home?” Dustin asked uncertainly. God, she wished they were only coming home from a trip to the grocery store or some other mundane errand and not about to watch some stranger move in. Eyes blurred with tears, Kyra pulled into a parking space. The blue Mini-Cooper in the next spot belonged to Avery Lawford. Max gave a happy woof as they joined Avery and Chase on the sidewalk. A minute later Nikki and Joe arrived, the twins sound asleep in the stroller. Kyra was trying to decide who looked the most embarrassed when a lone figure walked up the path from the jetty. Gatsby style pants fluttering lightly in the breeze, a mint green vest buttoned over an oxford shirt, Ray Flamingo, former designer to the stars, walked up to them. “Beautiful day isn’t it?” “Don’t even try to pretend you were just out for a stroll,” Avery said. “Who me?” Hands in pockets Ray turned to face Bella Flora. “I didn’t realize a house could send a distress signal until today.” “You know that whoever is renting Bella Flora has spent a lot of money to live in her,” Joe said gently. “There’s every reason to expect that person will treat her well.” John Franklin’s Cadillac pulled up in front of Bella Flora at exactly 11:00AM. The car was a classic, like its octogenarian owner and driver. Kyra’s father, Steve, who now worked at Franklin Realty and had been responsible for finding Bella Flora’s mystery tenant, was with him. With Max straining against his leash they trundled over to meet them. “You all look a little more like a lynch mob than a welcoming committee.” John Franklin had a ruff of white hair around an otherwise bald scalp and a long face dominated by the droopy brown eyes of a basset hound. Those eyes looked worried as his hands tightened on the handle of his cane. “Is there a problem?” “That depends,” Kyra said. “On what?” her father asked. “On whether the tenants look as if they can fully appreciate their luck in getting to walk through Bella Flora’s front doors. If they don’t, I might need help stringing them up from the Reclinata Palm out back.” Chase and Joe laughed. Maddie, Avery, and Nikki exchanged worried glances. “We don’t necessarily have to deliver a welcome basket,” Ray said in a conciliatory tone. “But I don’t think we need to be contemplating violence, either.” “Neither do I,” Maddie said. “In fact, I’m not altogether sure we should be here.” As usual her mother seemed intent on keeping the peace. And preventing Kyra from committing a stupid act. If only that had happened before Kyra took the loan out against Bella Flora. “But clearly we’re all curious to see who’s moving in. So I think we should at least act like a welcoming committee. Plus we can let them know that we’re nearby if they have any questions about the workings or idiosyncrasies of the house.” They milled relatively quietly until a car turned off of Pass-a-Grille Way onto Beach Road, passed the Cottage Inn and pulled into Bella Flora’s brick driveway. The car was low, sleek and silver with tinted windows that revealed little. They inched closer, stopping just short of the garden wall as John and her father walked up the driveway. Kyra wasn’t the only one holding her breath as the driver got out of the car. Through the palms and tall bushes she could see only slices at a time; a lone male head of blond hair atop a body that seemed tall and well formed. There was a flash of blue jean and some kind of dark jacket or blazer. He moved with a confident stride that Kyra chalked up to arrogance. Did that mean he would be careless with other people’s possessions? Or did it mean that he was used to nice things and would take care of theirs? She moved in an attempt to get a better look, but everyone was jockeying for position. Between the bushes and trees John and her father’s backs were the only things clearly visible. Her father froze briefly. John Franklin’s normally hunched shoulders went stiff. Murmurs of what sounded like surprise reached them. Heart pounding, knees pressed against the concrete, she leaned over the garden wall in an attempt to see more. The tenant cocked his head and she sensed him peering between John and her father as if looking for something or someone. Dustin dropped her hand and moved toward the driveway. A prickle of unease raised the hair on the back of her neck, but she knew from the blond head and build that it wasn’t Daniel Deranian. Was it another movie star? A famous athlete or musician? “Lookit Mommy. Lookit who’s here!” Dustin shouted as he ran up the driveway. Kyra detached herself from the wall and the group to race after him. The breath caught in her throat as the tenant stepped around the two Realtors and reached down to pick up Dustin. She blinked rapidly trying to make sense of what she was seeing. Read the full article

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su17-accdcritprac-blog · 7 years

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Blog Assignment #2

The short form video that I chose was the movie trailer for the film Marie Antoinette by Sofia Coppola (2006).

Upon first the first viewing of the text, the visuals depict a story set in 18th century France. The colors are vivid, the lighting is natural, there are a variety of camera angles, and the transitions between each scene are abrupt but go with the rhythm of the music. The main character is Marie Antoinette. She is shown throughout the whole trailer from different scenes in the film. All of the characters are dressed in 18th century fashion, and it takes place at Versailles. Between the clips of the movie, there is text throughout the trailer that tell the audience about the film. The audio starts with music that sounds like music from that time period, but by the middle of the trailer, punk music plays. At the end of the trailer, there is a pause of silence with only Marie Antoinette bowing at a balcony in front of an angry mob. This scene is the most memorable part of the trailer because of the pause in momentum.

The words spoken in the trailer: “Friendship between Austria and France must be cemented by marriage. My youngest daughter, Antoine, will be queen of France.”-Antoinette’s mom “It is a custom that the bride retain nothing from a foreign court.” “You represent the future. All eyes will be on you.” “She looks like a child.” “So I heard you make keys as a hobby?” “Yes.” “It would be interesting to see how long she lasts.” “What on Earth is going on with that young couple?” “It’s a disaster.” “This is ridiculous.” “This, Madame, is Versailles.” “I’m afraid that the queen has somewhat of an artistic temperament.” “It’s not too much is it?” “No.” “She spends like mad.” “People of France are hungry.” “The king and queen are complete blunderers.” “Don’t they ever get tired of these ridiculous stories?” “Can’t you do something?” “I’m not going to acknowledge it.” “She was in the shrubs at dawn with various men.” “He has quite a reputation.” “She’s a terrible queen.” “Letting everyone down would be my greatest unhappiness.” “The Bastille Fortress was stormed.” “There’s a mob of hundreds on their way.”

Most of the lines are narrative in nature and do not coincide with the clips. Some of the clips match the audio, but the only clear character is Marie Antoinette herself. Other characters deliver lines, however the audience is unclear about whom they are. As mentioned above, the audio starts with music that sets the tone for 18th century France. However, when the main character arrives at her new home in France, the music changes to punk music from the 1980s. Other sounds come from horses, audience applauses from the film clips, glasses clinking, carriages, and yelling from a mob. The purpose of changing the genre of music to something more current is to reframe the story as something that seems as relevant today as it was when it happened. The target audience is made up of movie-goers who most likely females in their teens or early adulthood. Although the film is clearly about Marie Antoinette and youth, it could attract an adult of any age.

The author of this text is Sofia Coppola, as she is the director of the film. The trailer plays scenes from the film that tells the general story while enticing the audience to watch it in full. The 18th century music, costumes, and setting, show that the film is a period piece and is set in that specific time. However, the vibrant colors and the 80s music revitalize the time period, making it seem vivid and present. “Rumor, Scandal, Sex, Fame, Revolution” are words that appear across the screen between clips. These are all aspects of culture that still exist today. The film and its trailer talk about the story of a historical figure, but it is seen from the perspective of Sofia Coppola in 2006. She depicts to 18th century culture and its similarities to the present by showing the aspects how the same aspects of culture that exist today manifested during that time in Marie Antoinette’s life. People who expect to see a historical film about her might not be satisfied with Coppola’s interpretation because of the vibrancy that is an unexpected view of the past. The film is attempting to point to celebrity culture as a whole, regardless of time, as if to say that it was the same in the 1700s when it was first beginning as it is now. It also talks about growing up and the unique pressure that young people have when they try to meet the expectations of everyone around them.

I have seen the film and I would say that the trailer sounds a lot more fast-paced than the film actually is. The music is the same as it is in the film, so I think that it captured the tone of the film well. The lines that they chose to narrate the whole trailer were the some of the most intriguing parts of the film, which makes sense because this trailer is essentially an advertisement for it. The film itself is relatively quiet and moves at a slower pace than the trailer suggests. However, the music and all of the clips show the specific point of view that Coppola has, which is a significant aspect of the film.

Video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yBWyKRoh98U

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readingactually · 6 years

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Book Spotlight: Best Beach Ever by Wendy Wax

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