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#but on the other: my friend's entire family watches every godfather movie every christmas. one of my best friends watched spirited away twic
queermediastudies · 3 years
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“A Queer Who Cares” : The Intersection of Class and Queerness in Tokyo Godfathers
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Tokyo Godfathers is a Japanese animated film, made in 2003, that follows the adventures of three homeless friends on Christmas Eve in Tokyo, Japan. Throughout the movie, we follow Hana, a transwoman and former drag queen, Gin, a middle-aged man with a gambling addiction, and Miyuki, a teenage runaway, as they find a baby in a trash can and spend Christmas Day trying to reunite the child with her mother. A comedic adventure quickly ensues, as the chaotic but loving trio, do their best to take care of their new baby, solve the mystery of her appearance, and all the while combat the dangers and prejudices that come with being homeless. Though predominantly a comedy, the film also strays away from its humorous tone and delves deep into the characters’ complex backstories, emotionally exploring the myriad of reasons why Hana, Gin, and Miyuki are homeless and why getting the baby back to her mother is so important for each of them. Directed by the famous Satoshi Kon and loosely based on the 1913 novel “The Three Godfathers”, the film explores themes of parenthood, found families, classism, transphobia, and addiction, and illuminates the complex ways in which these forces interact and impact daily life. In essence, Tokyo Godfathers effectively explores themes of transphobia and the intersection of classism and queerness, and though not entirely unproblematic, is unique and powerful in its complex characterization of both Hana as a character and the oppressions she faces as a transwoman who is homeless. 
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(Hana speaking about her desire to be loved)
Before beginning, it is important to note that the following analysis is of the 2020 English dubbed re-release of Tokyo Godfathers by GKIDS. As of now, there are many fan-subbed versions of the film circulating on the internet that misgender Hana in their subtitles. The GKIDS re-release does not so I will not be addressing that form of transphobia in my analysis. Similarly, in the original Japanese version, Hana is voiced by a man, and the fluctuations of her voice, from high and feminine when she is happy, to low and masculine when she wants to be intimidating, is present and follows a very transphobic trope in comedy. In the GKIDS dubbed version, Hana is voiced by Shakina Nayfack, a transwoman, actress, and activist, and these vocal fluctuations are not present so, once again, I will not be addressing that form of transphobia, as it was not present in the updated version that I watched.
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How Shakina Nayfack used her voice to reclaim trans representation in animation
(A short article on Shakina Nayfack, the English voice actress for Hana in the 2020 GKIDS re-release)
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Though Tokyo Godfathers does not have the popularity or mainstream attention to be considered a breakout text, it’s humanizing and complex characterization of Hana breaks traditional transphobic tropes, particularly in comedy, that lends itself to “creat[ing] small cracks in the glass ceiling of cultural consciousness and makes room for future breaks” (Cavalcante, 2017, p. 4). Hana is the main protagonist of the film. She is both the center of comedic relief, the leader of her found family and the driver of the plot as a whole. It is through her desire to fulfill her dream of becoming a mother, and her desperate need to understand why parents abandon their children (as her parents did to her), that motivates her, and in turn, her friends, to find the child’s parents themselves, instead of going to the police. It is in this complexity that Hana, “breaks historical representation paradigms” of both trans characters and queer characters as a whole (Cavalcante, 2017, p. 2). In her desperate search to love and be loved, Hana is immediately humanized, her identity centered in love and family, and not in her gender or sexuality, as so many queer characters are. In addition, she is not portrayed as “sexless” as is the norm for queer characters, wherein they can exist in media as long as their love stories and intimate desires do not. Though very subtle, Hana is the only character in the movie that has a love interest, Gin, and she had a boyfriend, who died, but is still a key part of her characterization. Though these love stories are not centered in the film, they are the only ones in the movie, and this exclusive existence, unique to Hana, illustrates their importance to both the themes of the movie and Hana’s character.   
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(Miyuki asks Hana about her feelings for Gin)
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(A photo of Hana and her ex-boyfriend Ken at the club she once worked at)
That is not to say that the queer representation in this film is by any means perfect. As mentioned, the movie is a comedy and thus falls into the historical “preponderance of these representations occurring in the comedy”, especially given that  Hana is the comedic center (Dow, 2001, p.130). Even more so, there are instances in which Hana’s trans identity is stereotyped and used as the joke itself. In one scene, she flirts with a cab driver knowing that he is uncomfortable by the fact that she is a trans woman, and his transphobia is framed as comedic. She also has a very flamboyant personality, with sharp emotional highs, and equally dramatic lows, that once again plays into stereotypical representations of transwomen as over-the-top and overly dramatized to the point of ridiculousness. In line with this, her previous line of work was as a drag queen, and though scenes of her in the drag community are dominated by a sense of love and community, it still plays into already established tropes of transwoman living as a performance. In these ways, her representation at times leans towards the role of the “clown...putting on a show for The Other” where it is “never quite clear whether we are laughing with or at this figure” (Hall,1995, p. 22).  However, as mentioned above, Hana’s complex and nuanced backstory, combined with her frequent acts of heroism and her leadership role, make it so she is deeply humanized. Though her dramatic personality falls into these stereotypical tropes at times, it does not detract from her character arc of motherhood and finding love, a nuance that is missing from many stories of trans women in media.  
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(As pictured, Hana’s emotions are very dramatized and quickly jump from very high to very low)
This nuance is heightened through the intersection of classism and queerness, which is an equally prevalent theme throughout the film. In particular, class struggles are illustrated through medical care. At one point, Hana falls ill, and Gin is forced to give away his life savings in order to pay for her treatment. It is also here where Hana’s gender identity is questioned, as the hospital houses her in the men’s ward, and she explains that she “is not pleased with this”. This particular intersection of class and queerness within a medical setting is impactful given the long and “oppressive role of medicine in trans people’s lives” (Keegan, 2016, p. 607) and the strong tendency of media to tell trans folks stories, about both life and transition, in a way that is medicalized. For Hana, the discrimination she experiences at the hospital, and her inability to pay for her treatment, illustrate the violence of intersecting oppressions of queerness and homelessness in medical systems, while also straying away from the problematic representation of trans folks that are centered around a rhetoric of medicalization. More visually, the family is also a key illustrative example of how class and queerness are explored. The trio is constantly visually contrasted with traditional Japanese families in a variety of settings. This harkens back to ideas of “alternative forms” of families that queer folks create and this difference is visually exasperated by the trio’s homelessness, making them stand out in whatever space they are in (Keegan, 2016, p. 607).
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(An angel asks Gin if he would rather have her magic or an ambulance. He chooses the ambulance.)
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(Hana in the hospital. The subtitle reads “This ward, it’s the men’s isn't it?”)
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(One of many scenes where the trio is set up in  familial positions)
As a queer, white woman living in the United States my subject positionality had a great effect on how I consumed the movie. Most notably, I was born and raised in Western society, and given that this film is Japanese and made for Japanese audiences, there is a variety of cultural norms and perceptions that I did not pick up on because of my lack of familiarity with them. In the same vein, I watched this movie translated into English and, as with every translated work, there are words and subtle, yet important, nuances in the language that were very likely lost to me as a viewer. My identity as a queer woman made it so that I was drawn to Hana as a character and was very moved by her deep desire to be a mother. The movie is steeped in images of Hana and her friends encompassing the idea of a non-traditional family, and since I would love a family of my own one day and I expect that to look different than the dominant nuclear family norm, I really focused my experience on the variety of nontraditional families that this movie shows, all of them as loving as the next.
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(Hana and her drag mother reuniting)
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(Hana and her family)
As a whole, Tokyo Godfathers, though not without its faults, is a refreshing take on the traditional feel-good Christmas movie trope, delving into class and queerness, and using the two to explore what it really means to be a family that is loving and kind. Spoiler alert, that family looks a little something like one ex-drag queen, one man with a gambling addiction, a teenage runaway who loves cats, and their baby they found in a dumpster.  
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Sources
Dow, Bonnie (2001). “Ellen, Television, and the Politics of Gay and Lesbian Visibility.” Critical Studies in Media Communication 18(2), 123-140. 
Cavalcante, Andre (2017). “Breaking into Transgender Life: Transgender Audiences’ Experiences With ‘First of Its Kind’ Visibility in Popular Media.” Communication, Culture & Critique, 1-18. 
Keegan, Cáel (2016). “Tongues without Bodies: The Wachowskis’ Sense8.” Transgender Studies Quarterly 3(3–4), 605-610. 
Hall, Stuart (1995). “The Whites of their Eyes: Racist Ideologies and the Media,” in Gender, Race, and Class in Media 3rd ed., pp. 18-22. 
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cherryyharryy · 4 years
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The First Five
Pairing: Harry and Reader
WC: 3K
Warnings: Pregnancy/Birth 
 The first five minutes after you tell him you’re ready for a baby are chaotic, but the good kind. He’d been ready since you both said I do, but you wanted time, time with just him. 
He bit his tongue more times than he can count, not wanting to pressure you, knowing you’d come to him when you were ready to turn your house of two into three...or four; he kept his fingers crossed. Maybe even five...
He’d seen your wandering eyes linger on a mother and her child while you were out to lunch. You passed through the baby aisle at the store, not grabbing a thing. And when his friends stopped by with their three month old boy, you didn’t want to put him down. But still, he keeps silent. He sees the gears in your head working overtime, and he knows it’s coming. 
It’s a humid day, right in the middle of summer, when you approach him. Harry has flashbacks of the first date you two shared, your bashful smile and nervous hands. 
“I’m ready, Harry,” you whisper, rolling your lips in. “I want a baby.”
He can’t pinpoint exactly what emotions swarm him, they must be new. All he truly recalls is snatching you from the lounge chair you were stretched out on, and pulling you in for a hug that put all other hugs to shame. 
He showers you with kisses, every pet name he can think of tumbles past his lips as he suggests you two get to work right away, tugging you back into the house and up the stairs. 
He spends a lot of these five minutes running his eyes over you, glancing down at your stomach once you’re both bare, with just the thought of his baby, your baby, growing inside his love. 
And he presses a hard, passionate kiss right on your lips, running his thumb over your cheek and declaring his love for you. 
“You’re my world, y’know? My angel. Gonna make another one, yeah? Another darling I can cherish. Give you both anything, and all my love, you’ll have all my love.”
*** 
The first five minutes after you tell him you’re pregnant is silent. You’ve searched the internet for a cute way to present the news, a meaningful way to announce the creation of your love for each other. 
It’d been months since you first started trying, and needless to say, you were both sinking into disappointment every time a test didn’t yield the results you were after. But having bought yet another box while Harry was at work, you decided to try once more. 
And now with Christmas right around the corner, it’d be crazy for you not to make this a gift for him. 
You’re both surrounded by wrapping paper, still in your pajamas with forgotten mugs of coffee abandoned in the kitchen while you tell Harry he still had one gift left. 
It is a small, square box with a red ribbon adorning the green paper that you pull out from the tree itself. Harry chuckles at the hiding place and offers a kiss when you join him back on the floor. 
You’re fidgeting, positively squirming as he gently pulls the ribbon apart and pops off the lid. His brows furrow at the first recognition of a tiny t-shirt—a gag gift perhaps? It would explain your restlessness. 
But when he pulls the shirt out and unfolds it across his lap, he’s sure his heart stops for a moment. He can’t move, staring at the infant sized clothing with ‘Daddy said I’m a Packers Fan’ written across the front. 
His jaw wavers, and he swallows a dry, hollow, gulp. The only thing he wants to look at right now, is you. He needs the nod—the one he’s seen in movies and read about in books, the one where you’ll shyly smile and roll your lips in while your head silently says yes, this is really happening. So he darts his eyes up from the tiny shirt in his shaky hands to your face. You nod. 
He has a million things to say but they all come out in breathless huffs and dizzy laughs. He scrambles over to you and pulls you in, surely giving you the tightest, warmest hug you’ve ever received. 
“You’re...I…” He pulls back and searches your eyes. He must be dreaming. “This is...we’re really…”
You giggle and nod. “Yeah.”
“I can’t believe…” His lips finally tug into a smile. He shakes his head and flickers his eyes between your face and your stomach. They’re in there, tiny, microscopic, but they’re there.
“I couldn’t wait to tell you. Almost slipped up a few times.”
“I—I’m speechless.”
A soft laugh bubbles out of your mouth. “I can tell.”
You lean over the few inches he’s allowed between the two of you and press a soft, sweet, we’ve made a baby kiss to his lips. (As best you can, he can’t stop smiling).
 ***
The first five minutes before you endure the joys of pregnancy are much more agonizing than the five after. And Harry knew he’d be that husband—watching every move you make—but he had no idea how well he’d slip into the role. 
Needless to say, when you wake up feeling like you swallowed a model rocket ready for lift off, complete with a watery mouth and sore back, he panics. Your body’s in a state he doesn’t truly know how to take care of—sure he’s obsessed over the idea of being a dad, of you being pregnant. He’s a godfather and has a breeding kink that he won’t admit to. But the actual changes, the actual pain and metamorphosis that you’ve been going through and will continue to go through for the next six months, scares him to pieces. 
So for that first five minutes he’s pacing. He doesn’t take his eyes off you as you wait patiently on the cold tile floor, already hunched over the toilet. 
“You okay?”
“Mhmm.”
You really need him to shut up. You’re fine, you’re throwing up. It’s what pregnant women do. But when he’s nervous—as he gets if you so much as put a hand to your forehead and sigh—it sparks the own nervous energy in you to take over. Because things could go wrong, you’re not out of the woods for nine months. And yeah, you’re probably inching closer to the bowl because of the hot sauce you added to your chicken the night before, (add spicy food to the list of things you can’t eat), but when he asks you again…
“You alright?”
...you burst. 
“Harry for fucks sake would you shut up!”
He’s silent after that. The remainder of the five minutes he obeys and keeps his mouth quiet. He doesn’t leave, stays leant against the counter, but he doesn’t talk. 
When you’re brushing your teeth you look over at him. He’s pale and fidgety, like a child who received forgiveness but knows their parent is still mad. 
“I’m sorry.” You spit out your toothpaste, and repeat the words so he can understand them this time. 
“I hate seeing you like that. I can’t do anything, I can’t fix it, I can’t make you feel better. You’re going through things I’ll never understand and you have to do it all alone. I just…” he sighs, loosening the tension in his shoulders with a roll of his back. “I worry, y’know? You’re my everything. If something happens to you…” He doesn’t finish his sentence, the last few words are lucky they made it out, as wobbly and frail as they were. 
“Hey, look at me.” You’re stern as you approach him. “I'm never alone, okay? I have you.”
“But—”
“Nuh uh. Yeah, I’m the one that’s pregnant, but that’s just a small portion of everything that’s ahead. Nine months. Nine months and then you’ll be put to work.” You smile once he cracks a smirk. “And in the meantime, you've been the best support I could ask for. I never feel alone in all of this.”
His smirk grows from bashful to sly. “Because I never leave you alone.”
You laugh around your words. “Yeah that’s part of it.” Your hands gently slide up his arms to rest on his shoulders. “And I’ll be fine. Doctor says everything’s good. Nothing to worry about.”
“But what if—”
“If...if something happens, we’ll handle it. Worrying about whether something may or may not happen doesn’t prepare us, and it certainly doesn’t make things easier.”
He stares down at you, eyes twinkling with a confident look you haven’t seen in a while. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
***
The first five minutes after you step out of the shower, the morning Harry is supposed to be home after nearly a month, are bliss. 
He pulls his clothes off tiredly in the bedroom, willing himself to stay awake until he can greet you with a proper kiss once you’re out. He avoids the bed, knowing if he even sits on the edge he’ll pass out. 
He pours a cold glass of water and is on his way back up the stairs when he hears the rush of the shower come to a halt. He speeds up, stepping into the steam-filled room just as you’re unfolding your towel to wrap around your body. 
“You—” He’s pointing at you, frozen in the doorway, and you break into a stifling panic because the last time his words got caught in his throat with a pointed finger, there was a spider the size of your hand behind you. 
“What? What!?”
“You’ve got a bump!”
Your lips tweak into a smile, and for the first time in a long time, you feel truly shy around him. “Noticed it the other day, when I put on my orange dress.”
You hadn’t time to wrap the towel around you before he was wrapped around you; his arms pulling you in flush against his chest, but only for a moment as he steps back to admire the swell of your belly. 
It’s not that noticeable—you’d have to be especially attentive to that part of your body to see the difference compared to a couple of weeks ago. There’s no need to rush out and stock up on maternity wear, and you don’t have to worry about the friends and family you haven’t told yet finding out. 
But it is exciting. It’s your baby, yours and Harry’s baby. And it’s healthy and growing and now you’re showing...Harry’s enthralled. 
He flicks his eyes up and waits for your nod before smoothing his hand over your belly button. His hand is big and warm. His rings are absent which you’re thankful for, not needing the cold on your skin right after a shower. 
“I love our baby,” he muses against your hair. “And I love you.”
“Welcome home.”
*** 
The first five minutes in the baby store are ridiculous. Harry—is ridiculous. He’s got an entire cart overflowing, and he’s really in his own little world. 
“Look at these, love.” He holds up the smallest pair of mittens you’ve ever seen, with the biggest smile you’ve ever seen on his face. “Look how tiny.”
“Everything’s tiny, Harry.”
He tosses them in the cart. 
You’re not complaining; his enthusiasm is contagious. You’re excited yourself, but having someone to share it with, someone who’s over the moon at every piece of clothing and accessory added to the pile, is the cherry on top. 
You’re running your eyes over the rows and rows of socks, all a different color, all incredibly small. 
“What color?” He asks, tugging you back to rest against his chest. 
“Would you care if I said one of each?”
“I’ll go get another cart.”
***
The first five minutes into your baby shower are kind of ridiculous. It was Gemma’s job to throw the celebration together, but your lovely husband weaseled his way into the planning, and now you’re sitting amongst friends and family while Harry reads off a list of games the guests are to play. 
“Sorry,” Gemma nudges you on the couch. “I tried. Honest.”
“I guess it was stupid of me to expect him to sit back and do nothing.”
“No, not stupid...just…” she eyes you, holding back a smile. “Okay yeah, maybe it was.”
“Excuse me,” Harry scolds the two of you. He’s standing in front of the fireplace, waiting on each audience member to give him their full attention, his own wife included. “Are you two done?”
Gemma rolls her eyes. “Just get on with it, would you?”
“As I was saying,” Harry asserts, “the first game is a bottle chugging challenge.”
***
The first five minutes after your first contraction are scary. It’s definitely a contraction. You’ve endured a bout of Braxton Hicks, but what you’re feeling now are the major leagues. 
It’s the moment of no return. You’ve been in this state for quite a while, but it’s successfully and overwhelmingly dawning on you: you’re going into labor. 
It’s not about the past nine months, and it’s not about the baby a week from now, it’s about this very moment, and the hours to follow that have you second guessing this entire decision. You were ready to be pregnant and ready to teach your six year old how to ride a bike. You are not ready to give birth. 
Harry settles down on the floor beside the tub and cups your cheek in his palm. He holds up his phone with the timer at zero on the screen. “Tell me when,” he whispers. 
You nod and rest your head back against the linoleum, shutting out the light with your eyes and focusing on your body. Your body that is designed to perform this miracle, your body that has gone through nine months of rapid changes, your body that’s been through so much already. 
“Ah.”
“Breathe in.” He watches you relax in the water, making a mental note of your habit of holding your breath. “Good. I love you, you’re doing so good. Have been, always.” 
His thumb strokes over your cheek, and he asks if that’s okay. You nod and peak your eyes open, watching the timer on his phone tick by. It’s going too slow. Five minutes, the doctor had told you. Five minutes and it’s time to leave for the hospital. You’re not ready, please don’t stop at five. 
“The bags are in the car. And I’ve called your mum. Mine too.” He sets the phone down and dips his hand in the water, not letting go of you. “S’this warm enough?”
“Yeah.” Your voice is shakier than you were expecting. You peer up at him, and just by the look on his face, you know he knows. 
“You can do this. You’ve done so much already, and this is the last step.”
“It’s the hardest step though.”
“And you can do it”
You open your mouth, but it takes a couple swallows before you can speak. “I’m so scared. I didn’t think I would be, but I am.”
“Tell me what you’re scared about.”
You flicker your eyes up from the timer to his face, brows pulling in to say take a fucking guess. Instead you shrug. “I—just everything. The pain. The stitches. Something going wrong. Me dying, our baby dying. Something being wrong with them. Everything.”
Harry doesn’t blink. He has no right to tell you not to be scared. No right to try and de-rationalize your fears. You’re the one who’s body is preparing for something terrifying at this very moment, something you can’t truly prepare for no matter how many women you’ve asked ...so how bad does it really hurt? You’re the one giving birth, not him. 
“Are you not scared?” He catches the hint behind your words. You’re almost asking for the secret he seems to hold, because ever since you woke up from your nap with a buzzsaw in your gut, he’s been calm and collected. 
“F’course I am. Not gonna lie to you. You’re having a baby...that’ll never not be scary. If we have ten kids I’ll still be scared on our tenth trip to the hospital.” He pauses for a breath. “But I also know that you can do this. I know that you’re incredibly strong, stronger than I’ll ever dream of being. You’re healthy and the baby’s healthy. You’ve got a fight in you that I fell in love with. You don’t give up on anything, you don’t back down. You power through and show me time and time again how un-fucking-believable you are.”
He’s wiping the tears that have started to trickle down your cheeks, and for a second he worries he’s said something wrong. 
“Thank you.” Your voice is still brittle, but when you look up at him, the light in your eyes has changed. 
“Thank you,” he smothers a kiss onto your lips, “thank you, thank you, thank you for everything.”
***
The first five minutes after you’ve brought your child into the world are heavenly. Your body is more than exhausted, numb, yet you feel everything. You’re not even sure if what you’re feeling is your body. There’s a lot of noise, a lot of chaos, as you lay there. 
The voices are all in a tunnel. The only one you really tune in to is the high pitched scream, a decibel breaking siren that is somehow coming from the tiny human being placed on your chest. 
Then it’s your own voice. You’re crying; not sad, just relieved, overworked, and so fucking happy. Despite the excruciating wringer you’ve just been yanked through, you’d do it again in a heartbeat...maybe Harry will actually convince you to have three. 
“Hey little one.” You softly stroke your finger down your newborn’s cheek, the wailing yet to cease. “I’m so happy you’re finally here.”
The room starts to slow down, and soon you’re taking everything in again. Harry’s by your side. He never left, although he’s back in focus now. 
“I’m so, so proud of you.” He’s holding his baby, cradling their head just like he practiced a million times. And he’s looking at you, in you, if that’s possible, into the very depths of whatever harbors the strength you showed today. And of course the tears are dripping down his cheeks. He’s so fucking happy too. “I love you. I love you so—I just love you.” He shakes his head. There aren’t really words, are there?
“And I love you.” He smiles at his child, running his eyes over the features he can’t get enough of. It really is the two of you, all wrapped up in this small bundle blinking up at him. “We’re gonna let muma rest now, aren’t we?”
He bends down to place a kiss on your forehead. You feel a tear beside his lips. “I love you, my darling. Close your eyes, you’ll be fast asleep in five minutes.”
357 notes · View notes
skellybonesandtrees · 3 years
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12 Angry Men, 2001: A Space Odyssey, Breakfast at Tiffany’s, Casablanca, Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, Citizen Kane, Double Indemnity, Dinner at Eight, From Here to Eternity, It's a Wonderful Life, La Dolce Vita, Lawrence of Arabia, Psycho, Repulsion, Roman Holiday, Shane, Singing in the Rain, The Apartment, Titanic, The Godfather, Taxi Driver, and Witness for the Prosecution.
12 Angry Men- What’s your favorite movie? This has been asked so many times in tumblr asks things I wonder if I actually always give the same answer? But anyway, I think it’s always been Forrest Gump. Don’t quote me on that.
2001: A Space Odyssey- What’s your least favorite movie? Solo: A Star Wars Story.
Breakfast at Tiffany’s- What’s one of your favorite memories? When I was a kid, we used to go down to the beach every summer - which in Brazil is a Christmas season. So Dad would drive us down and we would stay at an uncle’s house, just us. Dad would go back to the city for work during the week but would always come back on the weekends. It was very quiet, at least until Christmas and NYE week when the entirity of the capital drove down. Some of my favorite times were spent there.
Casablanca- Do you want to get married? I don’t think so. It just hasn’t been on my to-do list for many years. I’m very comfortable with having my bed and my space for myself. I think it would be very difficult to share at this point.
Cat on a Hot Tin Roof- What was your childhood like? Better than most, even if not the best by some standards. White middle class family in Sao Paulo, it was more than fine. Sometimes money was tight, but it was still a good childhood, I did most of my travelling in my life during that period. 
Citizen Kane- Do you prefer to read books or watch movies? It depends on the moment/mood in my life.There was a time I watched a lot of movies, I watch very, very few nowadays. I have had periods where I read more than I do today as well. Nowadays if I read, I read some guilty pleasure romance novel - because I may not want marriage, but I like romances anyway.
Double Indemnity- Who is someone you look up to? I can’t pick just one, but there are a number of science communicators who have been fighting an uphill battle in Brazil since the beginning of the pandemic.They’re my heroes.
Dinner at Eight- What’s your favorite book? Early teens favorite that remains a favorite because it was the book that taught me about philosophy and thinking for myself: Sophie’s World by Jostein Gaarder. From Here to Eternity- Describe your perfect/ideal life. I would like to go back to the seaside, or somewhere quiet, with lots of trees. I don’t like crowded spaces and loud noises. I would be perfectly comfortable being somewhere I could work from home and had lots of nature around me - I’d love to go for walks on the beach or in the woods. Anything but my current concrete jungle.
It’s a Wonderful Life- What makes life better for you? Money. La Dolce Vita- What’s a talent of yours that you try to keep hidden from other people? If I had hidden talents, I wouldn’t hide them, would use them to get rich and get the hell out of here. Sadly am mediocre.
Lawrence of Arabia- What was your first job? Did you enjoy it? Unpaid work helping someone with their publishing services. I didn’t like it, it was also short lived as the commute sucked and it got in the way of prep school at the time. The worst thing about working any job in Sao Paulo, is the commute - add to that an unpaid job? Yeah.
Psycho- What’s one thing you want to happen in the future (preferably within the next year)? We get rid of Bolsonaro and all of the science denialists in power.
Repulsion- What’s something you like to do in your free time? Woolgathering - but it’s just a cover for despair. Roman Holiday- If you could know the honest answer to any question, what question would it be? Who killed Jonbenet Ramsey?
Shane- Honestly, how are you doing right now? Not good.
Singin’ in the Rain- Are you currently reading anything? If so, what is it? Nothing at the moment. I subscribed to a list to try and win a book at a raffle and didn’t win, so I consider my efforts at education commendable enough.
The Apartment- What is something that has impacted who you are today? Most starkly right now the pandemic and the 2018 election of the genocidal maniac currently in power. Am definitely a more bitter person now, and I already was one before.
Titanic- Have you ever been forced into doing something that you didn’t want to do? Many times. They were still things I’d take responsibility for, however.
The Godfather- What is something that calms you? Rain, the sea, trees.
Taxi Driver- If you could change one thing that has happened to either yourself or someone you care about, what would you change? That change would have required me to have met different people in my life, who could have swayed me in different directions. I would have liked to have cared more about what I studied in college, I would have liked to have cared more about what I should do.
Witness for the Prosecution- Give a random fact about yourself I’ve been trying to learn crochet since the middle of last year, and I’ve made hats and a lil’ wobbly sheep named Kate Winslet who can’t keep her head up.
I hope I didn’t skip any! :) thank you, friend!
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strangergrove · 4 years
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× VOL 001 × 04.19.2020 ×
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TUMBLR | @bambixxblue AO3 | moonlight_xx
× these hearts adore (every other beat, the other one beats for) ×
WORD COUNT: 10,569
CHAPTERS: 2/?
My Tumblr prompt fics all in one place. Some pining, some angst, but usually always a damn happy ending.
1. peach, curve of an ear, coffee grounds, veined hands, thunder
2. ways to say 'i love you' - 'i brought you an umbrella.'
The writing in this is so exquisite. It feels like cracking open a favourite book on a rainy Sunday morning, when the rest of the world is still asleep. It's comforting and poetic and incredibly heartwarming.
The first chapter takes us along on a sweet little vacation to California, a last hurrah of sorts, before the kids head off to college. It's sweet and peach-soaked and you can feel the ocean breeze against your skin with every passing word. It's the exact brand of happiness our boys deserve.
The second part is an achingly beautiful redemption for Billy. He learns how to let his wounds heal, learns how to let others in, learns how to trust and love. His initial interactions when he meets Steve are so precious and it shows how complex of a person he is, the softness beneath his concrete shell. I will devour any update to this amazing collection.
× the light of day shows me how ×
WORD COUNT: 39,173
CHAPTERS: 7/7
And from Robin, a single picture: the official cast list.
ROMEO MONTAGUE...BILLY HARGROVE
JULIET “JULIAN” CAPULET...STEVE HARRINGTON
Ah, fuck.
(or, Steve and Billy are in ballet school. They're cast in LGBT+ Romeo and Juliet. Featuring mutual pining, angst to fluff, and an Ancient Slavic demon cult. It gets weird.)
This is such a fun read. The spattering of background into the story really carves out the characters so well, choreographing the story in such a way that you fall into their lives without realizing it. You sit down to watch Steve practice his role for Julian and suddenly find yourself wondering if that small stutter you just saw has anything to do with any number of little details you know of his past. You see Billy storm across the studio floor and know that he’s trying to bury something that keeps resurfacing, but he refuses to let anyone help him.
It’s wonderful watching the way the boys play off of each other, pushing one another to better themselves in both their dance and their personal lives. Watching Steve fumble with his newfound and confusing feelings is sweet, hopeful, just waiting, waiting for it to tip over the edge, for the boys to fall into the space they’ve always belong: by each other’s side.
I’ve never done ballet, only watched it here and there in movies and shows, but I fell in love with this story, the way their dances are described, their movements. So if you’ve never been that into ballet, don’t let that deter you from reading this story. It’s so much more than just ballet.
× friends should sleep in other beds ×
WORD COUNT: 13,517
CHAPTERS: 2/2
It isn’t easy being in love with your best friend.
It especially isn’t easy being in love with your best friend if he’s the practical-Godfather of your university.
(or, 'I won't let anyone hurt you; you're safe with me' prompt fill where Steve thinks his love is one-sided but it absolutely isn't. Feat. loving girlfriends and Hawaiian vacations.)
This story is beyond achingly stunning. It’s all whirlwinds and longing and the white-knuckle deathgrip of trying to hold onto something you’re convinced is going to slip away. The deep, binding relationship between Billy and Steve is beautiful and heartbreaking and hopeful at the same time. Both characters have obvious trenches of emotional trauma they’ve had to trudge through to get where they are, trenches they’re still slowly crawling their ways out of.
The words are so wonderfully crafted that I felt the sway and break of Steve’s emotions at the same time he did. I felt the longing, the sorrow, the sputtering flame of hope that just refuses to gutter and die. I want to say I wanted more of this story, but I don’t know if my heart could have handled it. No, it was the perfect length, detailing the long harrowing journey of love and friendship, of finding family that doesn’t come from blood, of holding desperately onto things that are worth the bruises they leave on your fingers.
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TUMBLR | @cameorabbit AO3 | CaffeinatedBunny
× Life Is Sweet ×
WORD COUNT: 8,676
CHAPTERS: 4/4
Snapshots of domestic bliss, between loving boyfriends.
(This story will be marked as complete but I will be adding chapters as the muses come to me or when I need a break from some of my larger wip)
This wonderful little collection offers us a sweet insight into the boys' relationship. We get small glimpses into the boys' pasts that add layers to the stories. We get to see little snippets of Steve's relationship with his mother and grandmother. We get to see Billy's insecurities. 
Each story has it’s own little theme, if you will, from baking Christmas cookies to battling insecurities in their relationship. Each story gives us a little more, brings us a little deeper into these boys’ lives, adds that next layer to them that has you coming back to see how they’ve developed. I'm looking forward to any future additions to this collection.
× When I run out of road (You bring me Home) ×
WORD COUNT: 5,316
CHAPTERS: 1/1
The road back to Hawkins Indiana is long and tedious with neither of them really wanting to reach their destination; so to distract them both Billy has a plan to make it as pleasurable for both of them as he can.
Uffda. This was a fun read. Now, before I dive into the review, just a heads up: this is a PWP with dom/sub. And apologies in advance for my inability to be eloquent about smut.
The dynamic between the two was a joy to read. Steve's mannerisms as a baby and the way Billy handles him as his Daddy was fantastic. It's not heavy dom/sub here, but you can tell they've had this relationship for a while. They're both comfortable in their roles and both know exactly what they're doing, and how to get a rise out of each other. But between the power play and the drops of backstory, there's actually some beautiful writing here, too. There were a few lines that I found myself rereading just because they sounded beautiful.
Also, I just have to say... The way Billy handles his own cock... Why do I love that so much? Just little things, too, like tapping it against the steering wheel while he's teasing Steve.
× I'll Keep you Mine ×
WORD COUNT: 3,926
CHAPTERS: 1/1
Billy's forged a kingdom and took an empty throne, and he'll burn anyone and anything that tries to take it from him.
(My Dudes this whole story is pretty much the Grumpy Possessive one claims the Sunshine One - Literally. And I ain't even mad.)
Here we get a gorgeously written tale that spins the events of the Upside Down in a different light. I don't want to spoil what that is, as it's not explicitly stated in the summary or tags, so you'll have to read to find out! This idea could easily be fleshed out into a much longer piece, but there's also something about just getting a small taste of an idea that is very enjoyable.
There is this persistent sense of danger beneath all the beautiful imagery. It's in the pacing of the story, in the way Billy needs to claim Steve. We get enough of a taste of this otherness to want more, to want to see exactly how everything unfolds.
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TUMBLR | @wickedlydevious AO3 | wickedlydevious
× Weak Hands, Weak Lungs, Strong Heart ×
SERIES: Strong Heart
WORD COUNT: 2,771
CHAPTERS: 1/1
After the events at Starcourt Mall, Billy is recovering in the hospital and bored out of his mind. The only bright spots are when Max comes to visit.
And then Steve Harrington starts visiting too and that's even better.
There is a very beautiful light and warmth throughout this story. Billy's character feels so accurate, and the way he deals with being in the hospital and everything that entails is exquisitely portrayed here. What Billy has to deal with in the wake of the Mind Flayer grates against his entire personality, but it forces him to step outside of his comfort zone, outside of himself, and relearn how to interact with people, namely Steve.
The thing I loved most about this story is that we get to see these different facets of Billy, facets that maybe even he didn't really know were there, ones he never allowed himself to show because of his father. Still recovering, still being dependent on other people forces these different aspects of him into the world, and it's beautiful. It creates this very special sort of relationship between Billy and Steve that is just so pure and heart warming. I'll definitely be coming back to this when I need a spark of joy.
× Weak Backbone, Strong Convictions ×
SERIES: Strong Heart
WORD COUNT: 3,212
CHAPTERS: 1/1
After the events at Starcourt Mall, Steve starts bringing Max to visit Billy at the hospital.
And then Steve starts visiting on his own.
The sweetness continues with the second part of the Strong Heart series. The events of the first part are retold, but this time through Steve's POV. I've always loved the idea of telling the same events from different perspectives and this did not disappoint. The events may be the same, but you feel them differently than when they were told through Billy's perspective. Though the tone of the previous installation is ultimately uplifting, it's clear Billy is struggling. This part, however, is overflowing with hope, which only adds to the already beautiful feeling of the last piece. Don't think that because you already know the events that will take place because you read the last part that you shouldn't read this one. It's beautiful and moving and there are moments added that would be a shame to miss out on. I really hope this series continues, because it is wonderfully uplifting, but it stands strong all the same, just as it is.
× T(h)ree Mistakes ×
WORD COUNT: 4,559
CHAPTERS: 1/1
It’s their first Christmas in their own apartment and Steve reluctantly tasks Billy with getting the tree.
Mistakes are made.
This is a great read for the holidays. Billy's tree-getting adventures brought back so many memories of going to the tree farm down the road from our house as a kid and making a day of trying to find a tree that didn't look like trash and wouldn't break the bank. The feel of the story is cozy and sweet, like a warm and sleepy holiday morning. The kids, now teens, make a short but fun appearance that really makes this story feel like it's about found family. 
This story is like coming home, rounding up all of your best friends you haven’t seen in ages, and making a night of the holidays. It’s sipping eggnog, the lights turned down low, and listening to the sweet croon of gentle music somewhere in the house. This story is comfort and happiness and love. Now I want some hot apple cider...
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madpanda75 · 5 years
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“Christmas with the Barbas”
While I’m working on prompts, here is some holiday fluff with my growing Barba family ❤️
If you want to read my Hostage Story and other Barba Family drabbles, check out my Masterlist.
Thank you so much for all the likes, reblogs, and comments. You all are so wonderful! ❤️😍 If anyone wants to be tagged or if anyone has any requests, let me know!
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— When December came, you couldn’t wait to take Mila to go see Santa. On one snowy Saturday, you and Rafael bundled up the two year old and took her to Macy’s Santaland. The little toddler’s eyes practically bugged out as she stared at the Christmas village laid out before her. She bounced up and down as Rafael carried her on his shoulders pointing out all the different displays. Your daughter was captivated by Santa’s workshop, the twinkling lights, and snow laden Christmas trees adorning the path. Even you and Rafael were amazed at the elaborate holiday landscape, it felt as if you were actually at the North Pole. Finally, it was time to see the big man in red. As soon as Rafael brought Mila up to Santa, she burst into tears, crying and terrified. The little girl sat on his lap screaming and reaching out for you and your husband, Santa just smiled, totally unphased by the toddler’s tears. “It’s a rite of passage,” you said to your worried husband, quickly taking several photos before scooping up your daughter. As the years went by, Mila lost her fear of Santa, but that one picture of her crying on his lap was priceless.
— When Mila was three, she was chosen to be an angel for her dance studio’s production of The Nutcracker. You weren’t sure who was more excited about it, you or your daughter. The entire month of November, the little girl would dance around the apartment, practicing her part until she got it just right. You and Rafael were even hearing Tchaikovsky in your sleep. Everyone came to watch Mila’s big debut, between your family and the squad, you all took up an entire row. Fin, Sonny, and Rafael each brought your daughter a bouquet of red roses, the floral arrangements were bigger than she was. Your heart swelled watching her glide across the stage, dressed in her angel costume. Mila blushed when she caught your eye from the audience, waving to you and your husband from the stage. You both were so proud of her. One weekend after her show, Rafael surprised Mila with tickets to the New York City Ballet’s Nutcracker production, the two of them enjoying a special father/daughter date.
—Ever since you were a little girl, you loved ice skating. Rafael had even taken you for one of your first dates, although he had no idea how to skate. When Mila was older, you insisted on taking her to Central Park to teach her. You had taught your husband, but he was rather shaky on the ice, preferring to sit on the sidelines with the twins who weren’t quite old enough to join you and Mila. Your daughter was a little wobbly at first, but soon she got the hang of it. Rafael smiled watching as the two of you held hands, laughing and spinning in circles on the ice. You locked eyes with your husband from across the rink, blowing him a kiss, mouthing “I love you.” He blew you a kiss, mouthing back, “I love you too.” An older woman sitting by noticed your interaction, “You have a beautiful family, sir.” She says to Rafael. He beams with pride and thanks her, gazing down at the sleeping twins bundled up in the stroller before looking at you and Mila on the ice. “I think so too.” He softly says.
—Every December since you first started dating, Rafael takes you to Rockefeller Center to see the big Christmas tree. After a romantic dinner, the two of you walk hand in hand, looking at the holiday themed window displays as you head over to the tree. Your eyes gaze at the lighted spruce with childlike wonder, the lights practically dancing in your eyes. This year Rafael surprises you with “Top of the Rock” tickets for Rockefeller Plaza, you snuggle close to him as you both drink in the wintery city skyline from 70 stories high above the ground. While you and Rafael are enjoying your night out, Sonny babysits Mila, surprising her with a gingerbread house. The little girl has an absolute blast with her godfather decorating the house with frosting and candy, most of which she and Sonny end up eating. By the end of the night, Mila crashes from her sugar rush and Sonny is exhausted from chasing an energetic toddler. You and Rafael come home to find them both passed out on the couch. After taking a few pics, Rafael puts your daughter to bed while you cover your partner with a blanket, knowing after a night with Mila, he would be too tired to go back to his own apartment.
—During your pregnancy with the twins, you were too sick and tired to go out and do anything during the holidays. Most of those wintery December weekends were spent snuggled up on the couch with Rafael and Mila sipping hot chocolate, baking cookies, and watching Christmas movie marathons until all three of you would fall asleep under the soft warm blankets, too comfortable to move to your own beds.
—Every other Christmas, you and Rafael host Noche Buena for your friends and family. On December 24th, everyone comes to your house where you gather around the table, eating, drinking, and sharing stories. You spend hours with your mother-in-law, cooking traditional Cuban food. The house is filled with the aromatic scents of lechón, arroz y frijoles negros, and fried plantains, there is enough food to feed an army. Afterwards, Mila loves singing los villancicos with her Papi while you enjoy stealing a dance or two with your husband. The two of you swaying your hips to the salsa music blasting in your living room. At midnight, your family heads over to church to celebrate mass. Your daughter falls asleep as soon the priest begins talking, exhausted from her night of partying. Once the service is over, you and Rafael put Mila to bed before quietly placing her presents under the tree. Rafael multitasks, munching on the cookies your little girl left for Santa while putting her new bicycle together. It's only a couple hours later before Mila is awake again, bouncing on your bed, announcing that Santa came. In the end, all the exhaustion is worth it, watching your little girl open her presents, excited to show you and your husband what she got for Christmas.
@obfuscateyummy @beltzboys2015-blog @letty-o @sweetsummertime99 @sonnysdoll @lyssa1385 @burningsorr0ws @katmstanton @gibbs274 @izzythefanfreak @southern-magnolia @riodallas @eclecticminded @delia26 @glimmerglittergirl
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astral-space-dragon · 6 years
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Favorite X-Mas movies
I was inspired by a few posts on here and thought I’d give it a shot. This is just a list of my favorite holiday movies and why, some you may have heard of, some you may have not. Also it’s almost 11pm over here and I am super bored, so why not. In no particular order, here are my favorite X-Mas movies:
1. The Polar Express
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This film is based on the 1985 book of the same name and follows the story of a young boy who is beginning the question the existence of Santa Claus and his journey on the Polar Express to the North Pole.
This is a movie that seems to get shit on more often than not. The main thing it gets flack for is the animation. I personally love the animation, for 2004 animation, it’s a pretty stellar film. Beautiful animations, beautiful music, and stellar voice acting courtesy of Tom Hanks and Josh Hutcherson. See it for yourself and experience the magic.
2. The Nutcracker Prince
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Growing up, the Nutcracker story was a staple in my household. We have a collection of nutcrackers, my older sister participated in the ballet multiple times when she was younger, and my mom has owned multiple copies of the score by Tchaikovsky.
The film is, of course, based on the Nutcracker ballet and it is a SEVERELY underrated film. Seriously, NOBODY I know has even heard of this film. The film features the voice acting of Kiefer Sutherland as the Nutcracker, Mike MacDonald as the Mouse King, and the late Phyllis Diller as the Mouse Queen. It, of course, has Tchaikovsky’s magical score. I watched it CONSTANTLY as a kid and I still watch it now. It’s another stellar film that still holds up to this day.
3. Elf
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Oh yeah, I’m sure we ALL know this one. This movie is not even 15 years old and it’s already a household classic. It’s funny, it stars Will Ferrell (one of my favorite actors) and it always leaves me in a good mood.
4. Home Alone
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Another classic. I love the slapstick humor and young Macaulay Culkin. What else is there to say?
5. The Muppet Christmas Carol
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Another film based on a classic story. This time starring everyone’s favorite frog and Michael Caine. I’ve always love the Muppets and The Christmas Carol, so the film was the best of both worlds for me. Also, the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come always scared the piss out of me. It still creeps me out. XD
6. Mickey’s Once Upon a Christmas
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Unlike the other entries on this list, this had three segments. One segment being an original story (starring Goofy and his son Max), one being inspired by Christmas Every Day by William Dean Howells(starring Huey, Dewey, and Louie), and the other entirely based on The Gift of the Magi by O. Henry (starring Mickey and Minnie). Being from Disney, all three segments leave that warm feeling in your heart.
7. The Nightmare Before Christmas
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Now, there is a debate on whether this film is a Christmas movie or a Halloween movie. I say to that, “Why not both?” The film is whimsical, it has the combination of that Tim Burton magic and Danny Elfman’s musical talent.  What more is there to say?
8. National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation
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For anyone familiar with the National Lampoon franchise, you know how much of a hoot Chevy Chase is. This always has me on the floor laughing while I nearly piss myself. It’s that good. And it’s written by the late John Hughes so it’s automatic win.
9. Tokyo Godfathers
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 Now, here’s an unusual one. 
In this Japanese film, directed by Satoshi Kon, three homeless rejects from society come across an abandoned infant in the garbage. Rather than turn the little girl straight over to the police, our three misfits follow a series of clues, hoping to determine who the baby belongs to.  What follows is a set of twists and turns that will make you laugh and cry.
Along the way the vagabond adventurers face violence, duplicity, deception, new friends in need, tests and many more surprises.
Make no mistake, this film is rated PG-13 for a reason. There is profanity, a little violence, a little nudity a car chase, and even a suicide attempt or two. While at times the three homeless heroes do seem to treat each other poorly (from harassing comments to out and out homophobic slurs) this doesn't hold much water as a complaint because at the heart of it all, these three constitute a family. They love and need each other and bicker almost good-naturedly! Most refreshingly this film is spiritual all the way through in such a new and irreverent way that it practically turns the more commercial holiday fare on its ear. There is a strong moral in this urban and post-modern fairy tale and there's also a slice of the subtlety and skill to pull this off without once being preachy.
This is a MUST watch film. I highly recommend it anyone who is a fan of anime or just looking for a different Christmas movie.
and the last entry on this list:
Miracle on 34th Street
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Now this... this is the definition of a classic. In this 1947 film, an old man claims to be Santa and a lawyer defends him in court to stop him from being institutionalized.
As silly as that may sound, this is a heart-warming film. This film is something special. This film is so legendary that is has been  was selected for preservation in the National Film Registry by the Library of Congress as being "culturally, historically or aesthetically significant". 
I want to say more, but I don’t want to give anything else away. Check it out and see why this film is considered a landmark.
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chocolatechiplague · 7 years
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Best Friends and A Bad Movie; Yuuri & Phichit friendship fic
A gift fic focusing on the friendship of Yuuri Katsuki and Phichit Chulanont for @official-phichit-chu​ after they had a really hard day, though this is coming in late due to drama and bad family trouble the last three days, but it’s here! Hope you like it.
Ao3 of story: Right Here
Prompt: awesome slumber party for Yuuri and Phichit with hot cocoa, snacks, shitty movies, and gossip/talking
There was no way for the two skaters to not have a two person slumber party while the outside world was coating the city in a thick blanket of snow. A laptop was set up on on a small table, a playlist of the worst rated movies going on strong, the scent of cooked frozen pizza with a mingling of BBQ chips, popcorn, and Yuuri's favorite concoction that made the rest of the world's population shudder in horror. Really, the smell of pickles and marshmallow fluff was not something Phichit imagined he would adjust to when he first roomed with Japan’s top figure skater.  
May the deities take pity on the poor soul who fell for Yuuri's natural charm and won his heart, because it was something they would have to accept his horrible sense of taste, with an added pickle and marshmallow aftertaste kiss every time.
They were currently watching a horror comedy movie about every holiday being turned into a nightmare like horror. They were at Easter so far, the rabbit being a horrible, frightening rabbit man that was cursed, switching it onto the small girl because she saw him as he birthed baby chicks from the hole in each hand along the house. It changed their views on what the Easter Bunny was, some disturbing, hairless mix of Jesus and a rabbit man. For some reason with a slimy face.
“Do you think they’ll have the Fourth of July in this?” Phichit questioned, mouth full, spewing half chewed crumbs.
“No idea, I don’t think this is an American film but maybe? It’s a known holiday after all, an insane one too. Also, you’re disgusting, close your mouth.”
Phichit simply responded with opening his mouth wide, tongue out to show off the mashed chips. When it came to his and Yuuri’s time together being the top brotp of the world, he had no shame, no limit to his ways to gross Yuuri out. As the holidays in the movie switched to Mother's Day.
“Has gotten pregnant twenty times? Jeez.”
“Reminds me, I heard one of the female skaters from England is pregnant, third kid.”
“How do you know this, Phichit?”
“I have my sources.”
Yuuri glanced to see Phichit slide his phone out of sight slowly, a smile on the other man's lips. It was something that Yuuri never pushed to know, never wanted to fully know if anything as it would require him to go into every bit of dirt and dark secrets he held of the entire skating community. Phichit was a man full of others secrets, blackmail, and the entire world stored on multiple devices, hard drives and whatever else. Yuuri was convinced he had a little black book as well.
“By the way, have you seen Victors charity EVENT? The routine he did was from last year.” The Thai man grinned, watching the pink that creeped up along the others ears. Why yes, Yuuri had seen the charity event, he had watched it live on stream, forcing himself awake in the wee hours of the night, cradling his third cup of coffee to keep himself from passing out mid routine. Why must he suffer through watching other, very talented skaters before Victors skate? The Russian was the only reason he was giving up precious sleep when he had a morning class the next day.
“I think so.” Yuuri murmured, playing it off as if the event wasn’t on his mind the entire last week, like it wasn’t downloaded to his phone, watched every few hours to ohh and awe at the beautiful moves.
God, he had such a problem.
He got a pat on the back from Phichit, followed by a silent gift of a potato chip held out against his mouth. Yuuri accepted the offering,
As the Christmas holiday in the movie began, the two had slipped into soft conversation about class, the strain and stress that came with coming up spring finals that would lead into a summer of practice, of new routines to figure out for their next competitions. Yuuri already qualified for the Grand Prix, having to just go through the two cups slash compeitions to make it to the Grand Prix, to skate on the same ice as his first love-er idol. Yeah, idol. He would get to see his face in real life, not in high definition on his computer. It was honestly embarrassing how excited he was about seeing the man in person, how he knew the closer the competition came, the more he would feel the bouncing excitement, energy and pure dread that couldn’t be avoided.
Phichit could see it on Yuuri’s face, how reality of what was going to happen at the end of the year was beginning to fully hit.
“You’ll do great.”
“Only great?”
“Fabulous.” Phichit corrected.
“Victor is fabulous, I’m not.” Yuuri shot back, a small smile on his lips, pushing and prodding his best friend lightly.
“Fine, then you’ll be a spectacular, riveting, sparkling, show stopper ball of perfection that will make Victor get on his knees as a babbling mess, begging to have your babies.”
At that, Yuuri snorted and took a bite of pickle and fluff, deciding on a large bite just to horrify the Thai man for the teasing. The words were nice to hear though, to know that even it was coming from his biased best friend, he had support. It was too early to resolve himself into his ‘i'm going to fail’ mindset, so he soaked the words of confidence up to bottle for later use.
“Just promise to label as as Godfather to future kids.”
“Sure thing, Phichit.”
“And best man at the wedding.”
“Wouldn’t pick anyone else.”
“And I also want to have one grandchild named after me, I’m gonna do the same for you.”
“You told me for the last year that you refuse to live past twenty-five so that you don’t have to face the slow decline of ‘your beauty’.” Yuuri pointed out, smiling fully now. Phichit, the ever dramatic knew how to slip the first signs of stress away in moments like this.
“So?”
“So, how are you going to enforce a grandchild named after me?”
“Friends for life, Yuuri! I’ll do it when I’m in the afterlife.” As if it were obvious.
“‘Friends for life’ doesn’t say anything about ghosts.”
“It’s implied!”
The childish tone pushed Yuuri into laughter, Phichit wiggling his perfectly manicured eyebrows in victory before smacking him with a cushion, the movie drawing to a close.
“You’re my best friend, you know that right, Phichit?”
Yuuri was a man that may be hard to understand with certain things. He may hide his emotions over what hurts him, when upset, when his mind is yelling at him to quit, give up, just crawl back into bed with the curtains drawn to sleep the next week away. When it came to his loved ones though, he tried to make it obvious how important they were to him. Phichit very much was in that short list of people, sitting at lines best friend and the closest thing to a brother he would ever had.
It wasn’t a confession, they had made clear how close they were many times in the years together as roommates and friends, but Phichit gave a surprised look, followed by a bright smile.
“So long as you know that you’re my best friend, Yuuri. Don’t you ever forget it.”
“I don’t think I ever could. After all, you’ll be my best man if I ever get married, future kids godfather, and going to haunt me as a ghost at the ripe age of twenty-five.”
“Sounds like we’ll both have a good life.” Phichit hummed, leaning against Yuuri after spreading a blanket over them, starting up The King and The Skater for the third time that night.
“So long as we have each other, I think we’ll survive.”
“Agreed. Now we just need to start working on ‘Operation: About TIme’.”
“What’s that?”
“The plan where we get you to seduce and marry Victor Nikiforov.”
“PHICHIT!”
“Good start! But I think he will be offended if you scream out another man's name, so start practicing screaming his. A little moaning never hurts either.”
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Homestuck Secret Santa 2016
gift fic for @cronnchy– happy holidays!! (and sorry for the lateness ;;)
Dave’s first Christmas was fucked up.
Of course, it was probably unfair to put undue emphasis on his first Christmas. Upon further examination, it was safe to say that his second, third, fourth, and every Christmas of his thirteen years of life was fucked up, not just the first one.
This wasn’t due to the custom-made Smuppet ornaments that adorned the Christmas cactus, or the stockings made of the same material as an anime body pillow, or even the severed horse head his bro gave him, wrapped in Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff wrapping paper, ala The Godfather (thankfully with a plush horse instead). No, all of these things might seem strange to an outsider, but Dave didn’t even bat an eye (not like anyone could tell, either, with his certified Coolkid aviators controlling his emotional output at all times. Instead, the most bizarre, the most outrageous part of his childhood Christmases was that there was never any snow.
As any resident of Satan’s Asshole, or the southern United States, could tell you, snow was a rare sight, not just at Christmas but at any time of year. Oh sure, it would occasionally fall in January or February, slushy, fake snow that would end up melted by the afternoon– but Dave had never even had that. Every Christmas it was hot enough outside that he could’ve walked around in a speedo or jumped into a lake without even the slightest fear of hypothermia, both things his bro had done one Christmas or another.
Dave wouldn’t even have been so bitter about it if the phrase “White Christmas” wasn’t tossed around so much, and if every goddamn Disney movie or Christmas card had to shove perfect snowy scenes in his face every December. Every time he watched a Christmas special and saw the children rolling around in the snow while sleigh bells jingled overhead, the more he realized there was something fundamentally wrong with his version of Christmas.
Well. Aside from the Smuppets.
To add to this predicament, every time Christmas rolled around in New York Rose was ass-deep in snow, so all of her messages contained some complaint about the nuclear family and capitalist vestige of a “perfect white Christmas”. Normally Dave would be down for shittalking capitalism with her, but he couldn’t help but be annoyed at her ungratefulness, since he’d give anything to get out of the literal hell that was Texas and into some snowy, wintery wonderland, filled with pine trees and mansions in the woods.
Thankfully, Jade shared his predicament. Living on a tropical island with no one but her grandpa (or so he had thought, at thirteen years old, only to learn that she’d been all by herself for years, which was worse) she had no snow, no cold weather at all, and none of the trappings of a regular Christmas. She’d spent her December sitting in the greenhouse with her enormous dogs, eating atomic steaks and decorating a twenty-foot tree with homemade ornaments. (Which didn’t sound so bad, actually.) The two of them had commiserated for years over their lack of snow on Christmas, although Jade didn’t object too much because the warm weather was optimal for plant-growing and she didn’t think she’d like snow all that much, really!
Finally, there was John, who, much in the same vein as Rose, was no help. Living in Washington meant he got a decent amount every year, perfectly blanketing his suburban neighborhood. Every year he had pictures of snowmen with funny disguises, or his attempt at drawing Nicholas Cage’s face in the snow. Rose may have had quantity, but John had quality; he could sled, ice-skate, and make snow angels without worrying about hypothermia the way she did.
He did, however, sympathize with Dave. “No snow?” he’d said, two days before Christmas as they chatted on Pesterchum. Flurries were coming down outside his window, while the sun shone vibrantly outside of Dave’s. “That sucks. You need to visit me when it’s snowing, I’ll show you how it’s done!”
“It doesn’t take a genius to run around in some powdery white shit,” he’d replied, “but I’ll hold you to that promise.”
The truth was, as a thirteen year old broiling with teen angst and grappling with an unresolved crush on his best friend, there was nothing Dave would’ve liked better than to fuck around in the snow with John in the Washington suburbia, living out every one of his Hallmark fantasies. How and when they would meet in person, Dave hadn’t figured out, but he was determined to make it happen.
And then the world ended, and he had other things to worry about.
x-x-x
By the time Dave sees snow for the first time, the world he knew is gone. It all went so quickly; the meteors, the egg, the sword through his bro’s chest and the feathery bird version of himself who tried to save John from dying and John himself, sending fireflies and wisps of wind all across their session as he ascended to the heavens or something like that. Technically they still haven’t met in person, although John and Davesprite have; he can’t help but be jealous of that fact  He still has that crush, but then again he doesn’t have much time to think or dwell on anything  (ironically since he now has literally nothing but time). Still, he can’t help but remember John’s words as he crunches through the snow of LOFAF.
It had been too long since they’d talked.
Dave had been working overtime, running around timelines and spinning his timetables enough to make him sick. He had twenty-one dead Johns at his doorstep and a dozen Roses and Jades spread out across doomed timelines, but for the moment, he was going frog-hunting.
While Jade scampered through the snow, searching for the key to their entire universe, Dave took in their snowy surroundings. Jade had already been on LOFAF for awhile, so none of it was new to her, but to Dave, it was a whole new world. The snow piled thick and soft in huge drifts, painting the world a stark white save for the green trees, bright red flowers, and occasional frog or hummingbird. In the distance, Jade’s tower stood like a beacon against the gray sky, the lights of Skaia twinkling softly in the distance.
What he would’ve given to have a planet like this instead of his hellscape of heat and clanging metal.
“Hey, Jade,” he’d said, lifting her to inspect the branches of a tree. “Have you made snowmen or gone sledding or anything yet?”
“I had a bit of fun when I first got on my planet!” she’d replied, shaking snow from her hair. “But there really hasn’t been time for that. Especially now… we’ve got to find that frog!”
“Oh, of course. But I dunno… it feels pretty damn Christmas-y to me, even though it’s April or something. Assuming anyone’s keeping track of arbitrary shit like that now. Don’t you think we should celebrate the Christmas we’ve been deprived of?”
It was at this point Jade looked over at him, looking more serious than he’d ever seen her, and said, “Of course we are.”
Thus, the Kringlefucker was born because they decided, shit, let’s be Santa, and through great abuse of alchemizing, a merry time was had by all. It wasn’t quite the Christmas Dave had envisioned before the game, but nonetheless he was content to sit with Jade on the roof of her tower around a shitty jpeg tree, watching the snow fall softly onto her silent planet.
“John and Rose should be here,” Jade said, echoing Dave’s train of thought perfectly. But instead of succumbing to sappiness, he’d shrugged.
“When we create the new world we can have as many Christmases as we want together. We can even invite those weird troll guys. But first…”
“But first, we have to find that frog!” Jade hopped to her feet. “Shall we go?”
“Yeah, let’s go.” He thought, in that moment, how thankful he was for Jade, and about how in the new world, he would’ve alchemized a sled for him and John, and how Rose would’ve been knitting away at ugly sweaters for all of them.
But, like usual, Dave didn’t have too much time to think or dwell on things. That was probably for the best.
Still, they couldn’t find those frogs fast enough.
x-x-x
The new world wasn’t exactly how Dave envisioned it.
There was a Scratch, and the Green Sun, and a bomb, and he and Rose godtiered and now they’re on a meteor hurtling through space with five gray alien trolls for three whole years, apparently. It would actually be a decent arrangement except for the fact that John and Jade were on their own ship, an actual golden boat, en route to the new session, and they won’t be able to see each other for those same three years. Nor would they be able to communicate– no Pesterchum, carrier pigeon, or Pony Express can help them now. The last semblance of communication they had was a letter in a bucket that caused Karkat to lose his shit, and that was it.
It was strange; Dave used to talk to John every single day on Pesterchum, talking about movies and webcomics and all manner of nonsensical things, filling pages and pages of Pesterchum with nothing. Dave would even keep writing after John had signed off, ranting and rambling and rapping, wondering if John even read all of those messages or just passed it off as the same bull he always spouted.
But all of that, only to lead to straight radio silence. Nothing. They weren’t going to be hearing from John and Jade for awhile, and he accepts that.
And frankly, the trolls weren’t too bad. Terezi was as weird as her messages had implied, which was a relief, and she licked any available surface, a habit so unhygienic and hazardous it was very distinctly Terezi. Her moirail, (whatever the fuck that meant) Vriska, was a shit-stirrer if Dave had ever seen one, and was also the troll who had guided John on his quest and fucked over their session in more than one universe.
The two of them made quite a pair, and despite Teresa’s tendency to not display any negative emotions, and the fact that Dave doubted if Vriska even had a soul at all, they seemed to care deeply together. They clearly had some history together, although Dave didn’t pry too much into details because the trolls had a lot of stories and they were all fucked up (and he’d find out eventually anyways).
As for Karkat and Kanaya, well, the former was loud and angry, about what Dave had expected, but they did adopt the disgustingly sweet habit of curling up on the couch to watch movies together, so he couldn’t be too annoyed by his short fuse and no indoor voice. As for Kanaya, she and Rose spent most of their time flirting in ways Dave didn’t really want to get involved in, but was sweet enough from afar.
And the less said about Gamzee, the better.
All in all, the meteor wasn’t exactly a terrible place to be, even if it did give them ample time to reflect on their shortcomings in the three years of doing jack shit.
It was hard to the gauge the passage of time when you’re essentially detached from it- unless you’re the Knight of Time, that is. Dave knew the time down to the exact second, which was why when Christmas came around he was the first to know.
“Holy shit,” he said, making Karkat look up from his romance novel. “It’s Christmas.”
“What the fuck is that?”
“There’s got to be some troll equivalent of it… you know, fat guy in a red suit gives you gifts, you song around a tree, you celebrate the birth of Christ?”
Karkat continued to stare at him.
“It’s that holiday you celebrate at the end of the year?”
“You’re probably thinking of Twelfth Perigree’s Eve, but that hasn’t happened yet and we don’t have any of the weird traditions you have.”
“I seriously doubt that.” Dave got to his feet. “Well, whatever. I’m going to go talk to Rose.”
Miraculously, Rose wasn’t already involved with Kanaya, so Dave sat right down, pushed her book away, and said,”Rose, it’s Christmas.”
“Is it really?”
“Try to contain all that enthusiasm, will you?”
“I’m sorry, I wasn’t exactly the biggest fan of religion in my youth, and my mother’s overabundance of Christmas spirit rather killed the holiday for me.”
“Goddamnit Rose; you’re the only one on this ship that knows what Christmas is.Give me some Christmas spirit won’t you?”
“Ho ho ho,” she said drily.
“Thanks,” Dave said. “First you don’t appreciate all the snow you got, and now you’re completely devoid of spirit… I feel so merry.”
“You wouldn’t like snow either if it trapped you inside your house with your overbearing and passive aggressive mother.” Rose replied, pulling her book back in front of her.
“Well I was trapped inside with my bro whether it was snowing or not, so it would’ve been nice to have a little Christmas cheer while we were at it.”
“Listen Dave, if you’re that set on celebrating Christmas then I’ll knit us some ugly sweaters and we can go about it, but I don’t think anyone else on this meteor would care.”
“The trolls apparently have their own version of Christmas, so we can celebrate that too I guess.” Dave slumped over the table. “I wonder if John and Jade are celebrating Christmas now…”
“Considering that time is lost to everybody but you, I’d say no.”
“It was worth a shot. Hey, are you going to start knitting those sweaters or not? We’re wasting the Christmas magic.”
“I don’t think Santa would approve of that attitude.” Rose began to reach for the needles and yarn that were sitting across the table from her.
“I’ll save some mistletoe for you and Kanaya, how about that?”
“So thoughtful.” Rose pulled out a red ball of yarn. “I’ll get some for you and John, then.”
“Good luck with that, when he’s essentially a universe away. Who said I still have my shitty thirteen year old crush, anyway?”
“Trust me, I know you.” Rose cast him a glance. “After all, we are siblings, aren’t we?”
Dave paused. “I guess we are… huh.”
“Something strange about that?”
“Nah,” Dave shut his mouth before he said something sappy or appeared emotionally vulnerable, both dangerous when Rose was in his presence.
When he had celebrated Christmas with Jade, there had been so much going on he hadn’t even had time to think, whereas now he had too much time to do so. For a moment, he’d wondered about his bro– remembered their past Christmases together– and had almost, for a moment…
But he still had a family.
(Even if, when it came to Christmas, she was incredibly sacrilegious and was only celebrating with him out of pity and probably a mockery of the whole thing.)
“You know, I at least wish it’d snow.”
“Maybe we’ll pass through a dream bubble or something.”
x-x-x
“Shouldn’t we start making up our own holidays?”
Karkat looked up from where he’d been fiddling with the hand-knitted sweater Rose had given him. “What?”
“I mean, we’re gods now, right? We can make whatever holidays we want. We can even send down our own baby Jesus, and make our own Christmas and with better traditions.”
“I think Christmas’s traditions are just fine!” Jade exclaimed from where she sat next to Karkat. “And I thought you liked Christmas, Dave.”
“I do,” Dave replied. “But I mean, it could use some updating. And not just Christmas, we can create holidays of our own–”
“I say we make Nic Cage’s birthday a national holiday,” volunteered John.
“Goddamnit John, I thought we were over this Nic Cage stuff,” Dave groaned. “The carapacians don’t even know who that is. You’ve gotta come up with something better than that, man.”
“I don’t think the carapacians really know or care about what we do!” Roxy said cheerfully, walking into the living room where most of them were assembled and handing them each a mug. “Here, take some of Janey’s special eggnog.”
“Is it alcohol?” John asked dubiously.
“Come on Johnny, live a little!” Roxy said, nudging him. She had on a santa hat and had somehow managed to wrap a festive string of lights around her entire person. “Actually, I don’t know what’s in, but Janey makes everything with love.”
“Bleh,” John said, even though he accepted a glass and took a hearty swig from it. “Well, at least it’s not cake.”
“There’s plenty of that too!” Jane called from the kitchen, to which John made a face.
Miraculously, they had all managed to gather together for Christmas this year, with both of those terms being used loosely. ‘Christmas’ had little meaning, with the trolls and Calliope having no connection to the holiday and the rest of them, being literal gods, attaching little religious significance to the holiday. And ‘this year’ had little bearing as well, given that they were all effectively immortal. However, they had all been relatively busy, making gathering in one place quite a challenge.
And yet, here they were. Rose, with Kanaya’s grudging help, had hand-knitted everyone a sweater, which they were all wearing, despite the relative heat of the indoors. Jane and her dad had been cooking away all day with Roxy and Calliope’s help (why she would want to cook after working all day was a mystery) and Jake and Dirk were gracing Terezi with the glory that was Christmas movies (even though Dave had already shown her Elf.) Vriska, whom Terezi had somehow rescued from the void, was trying to replace all of their Christmas decorations with Halloween ones, with Karkat yelling at her. Jade had coerced John into helping her wrap a mountain of presents, and for some reason two new trolls– Aradia and Sollux– had arrived, presumably also from the void, like Vriska, bearing gifts (while Aradia’s red getup did suspiciously resemble Santa’s, Sollux’s blind and irritable demeanor suggested nothing of the sort).
It was still surreal to Dave that they were all together– unharmed, alive, and relatively enjoying life. Of course, the trolls had to cope with the fact that their numbers had been depleted, making Dave glad he had managed to survive with John, Jade, and Rose all still alive. They’d had plenty of trials along the way, but somehow, they survived.
And now they were celebrating Christmas together, like he’d always wanted.
It was almost too cheesy and picture-perfect for Dave to stomach, but he figured they deserved it.
“Hey, guys!” The front door of John and Jane’s house, where they’d all been gathering, slammed open. Jake charged in, apparently finished with his movie marathon, his glasses askew and cheeks bright red. “It’s snowing out there!”
“That’s perfect!” Roxy cheered. “Snow on Christmas day. I never had that in the future, it was always hot as hell.”
“Same,” Dirk sighed.
“Well, that sucks,” John said. “In my neighborhood we always had plenty of snow!”
And suddenly, it comes back to him.
“No snow? That sucks. You need to visit me when it’s snowing, I’ll show you how it’s done!”
All those years of staring out a window, looking for a snowflake– either that, or a ticket to Washington. Of running through the snow, looking for frogs, or sitting through a dream bubble of that very illusion. Dave’s Christmas has been pretty damn perfect but there’s one thing he needs to complete it.
Abruptly, he stands, dragging John with him, much to the latter’s complaints. “Where are we going, I didn’t even get to finish the eggnog–”
“Shut up, I have to talk to you.” Dave dragged him from the living room, packed to the brim with people and presents and a giant tree, and to the front step, shutting the door behind them. His breath forms a cloud and he rubs his palms together. “Remember that one time when we were thirteen and we talked about having snow?”
John cocks his head and Dave realizes it’s too mundane a detail for him to remember. He’s about to backtrack when he nods and smiles, slightly bemused. “I think?”
“Well, you told me you’d show me the right way to play in the snow.” Dave turned towards the actual winter wonderland that is Can Town before him. “Now do your worst, Egbert.”
And just like that, John began laughing. There’s no one around and the sound echoes in the silent white landscape. “You really remember that?” he said, wiping his eyes, before shaking his head and saying, “And you don’t know how to play in the snow?”
“The last time I was in snow I was too busy frog-foraging to have time to frolic.” Dave kicked a pile of snow. “Look at all of this white shit. It’s blinding.”
“Well, if you really want me to show you….” John adjusted his glasses, which had fogged up slightly. “I hope you can keep up.”
“I’ve been ready since the day you told me.”
John smiled, and Dave tried to keep his heart from flipping over in his chest. “Then let’s go.”
They start with the basics– snowman making. Dave could deal with that, easy, and began applying his own artistic merit until there’s a giant Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff in the front yard. He and John almost began snowscaping Nic Cage’s face, a favorite winter pasttime of John’s, before he decided it would take too long. They moved on, now working on snow angels.
Dave was genuinely surprised by how enjoyable it was to lay on your back and wave your arms and legs. The result was something that didn’t exactly resemble an angel, and yet he felt a connection with Northerners he’d never felt before.
They lobbed snowballs at each other for a solid twenty minutes, almost ready to engage in full on turf warfare before John decided that it was time to move on lest they break a window, or each other’s nose. It was at this point that he declared it was time for his favorite activity.
“Sledding!” he announced, going through the shed, where somehow he found a battered red sled. “I have no idea why this is here… but whatever. Let’s go find the biggest hill we can!”
“Hell yeah,” Dave said. “See, this is the kind of winter activity I wanted to do. None of those lame snow-angels or whatever. It’s no fun until you can potentially throw yourself into a tree.”
“You loved the snow angels,” John said, rolling his eyes. “Anyways, let’s get going.”
(By then, they had completely forgotten about everybody inside the house. Dave would miss Jane’s Christmas cake, but it was for the best, since John would have undoubtedly run from the room screaming.)
“Huh…”
“What?” John said, as they trekked through the snowy woods. Can Town’s buildings glimmered in the distance as they mounted higher and higher up a hill, their feet crunching through the snow.
“I just… agh, never mind. It’s stupid.”
“Ok, now that you’ve said that, you have to tell me.” John waited, then sighed. “Daaaave…”
“Fine, ok. When we first entered the game, I got to have Christmas with Jade. And then, when we were on the meteor, I had it with Rose. So now, I thought, I finally get to have it with you.”
Silence lapsed over the two of them as they climbed the hill, Dave feeling his cheeks heating even more. He was just about to keel over in the snow when John finally said something.
“I guess you’re right,” he cast his eyes on the ground, breathing out small puffs. “But we’ll have plenty of time to spend together now, right?”
“Yeah…”
“You know,” John said, staring up at the cold winter sky. “I really missed you.”
Dave feels a culmination of years and years of jumbled emotions rise up in his throat, but instead of feeling choked by them, it’s like a weight has been lifted from his chest. “I missed you too.”
“Hey…” John said, gesturing in front of them. “We’ve reached the top of the hill! You ready to go?”
And in an instant, the moment between the two of them vanished. But instead of being disappointed, Dave can’t help but smile. Ever since reuniting they’d bounced between being best bros or being something more, something Dave had tortured himself with for years. But it was  Christmas, and there was snow,  and they had got years and years to figure it out, whatever “it” is. (Even if the mistletoe Rose had hung over the door would answer that question soon enough.)
Ultimately, it didn’t matter. Because Dave had plenty of time. And for once, there was nothing to worry about. 
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The Nintendo King and the Midlife Crisis
It was December in San Diego, the palm trees strung with tinsel in Ocean Beach. Pat Contri shuffled barefoot on the floor of his game room, black hair wet from the shower and curling above his eyes. He was in front of a wall of nearly 1,000 games for the Nintendo Entertainment System, the greatest console ever released; the wall, floor to ceiling, was amazing to behold, Contri as small as Ahab in front of his whale. He read from the spines of gray plastic cartridges he’d spent two decades collecting: Spy Hunter, with its Peter Gunn theme, which he got for Christmas in 1987; Jaws, which he picked up at a flea market with his mother in Rahway, New Jersey, a year or two later; Zelda II, a game he had his parents order from the Sears catalog in 1988, a game he cried over because it took forever to arrive.
The wall was both a shrine to his life’s hobby and the backdrop for his work. For a decade, Contri has played a character called Pat the NES Punk for nearly 250,000 viewers on YouTube. Fans recognize him at the airport, at the gym, at the swap meets, and he has become not just an expert on Nintendo but a public face for anyone who grew up with the NES, anyone who’s worn a Donkey Kong T-shirt or who still has the Super Mario Bros. theme song thumping in their heart.
The Punk is goofier than the real-life Contri—a bit more manic, an exaggeration of his id. Games are the Punk’s life, and thoughts of the NES sing him to sleep and then wake him in sweat. Almost all of his videos, which run around 10 minutes, focus on the Punk’s experience with a single NES game. Each is a combination history lesson and review, delivered with a narrative voice that lets Contri (as writer, director, and star) show off his sense of humor, his knowledge of Nintendo, and occasionally even the depths of his introspection—about being boxed into an endless childhood by video­games, about the inherent sadness of trying to fill a hole in his life with them.
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Nik Mirus
One of Contri’s best videos, a 12-minute piece from 2013 dedicated to the rare and expensive NES game The Flintstones: The Surprise at Dinosaur Peak!, begins with the Punk rustling awake from a fever dream, choking out “I need help.” And, looking at his games: “What am I doing? They’re just video­games. I’m holding like a thousand bucks’ worth right in my hands. That could be going to something useful, something memorable. Like a vacation! I could go anywhere I want. Scotland. Italy. Tahiti …” And there he pauses. “I wonder if there’s NES games in Tahiti.”
It was a bit, mostly, but as Nintendo celebrates the 33rd birthday of its historic console—and as Contri approaches 38—it was also a sign of the conflict within him. Like a lot of people who were born in the years just before and after the launch of the NES, he is no longer young and not nearly old, neither new nor vintage, and it seems like he has started to feel a bit lost in the in-between. “I don’t know if I want to be 65 years old talking about retro video­games,” he told me. “I don’t want that to be the only thing I talk about forever. I think sometimes, ‘Is this where my talent begins and ends?’ ” He says he doesn’t play NES video­games anymore—except when he’s in character—and that it’s different now: It’s work. He admits this in resignation, like it’s sacrilege, the man for whom Nintendo became a career.
“There’s something a little self-deprecating about the Punk character, and about my character too,” says James Rolfe, a 37-year-old godfather of YouTube gamers who plays a character named the Angry Video Game Nerd and is a collaborator of Contri’s. “All these YouTube characters have some kind of element of sadness to them. Thinking back to childhood, were we wasting our time with games? Were we really entertaining ourselves? Were we really happy?”
Contri’s home library consists of nearly 1,000 NES games.
SHAYAN ASGHARNIA
Contri is a 37-year-old man who has been playing video­games his entire life. His cousin’s Atari 2600, when he was 4. His family’s PC-IBM XT. Then he was 7 when his parents bought him an NES console, and pre­adolescent Pat started spending hours in his family’s rec room in front of a small Magnavox monitor. Later, in high school, he played Super Nintendo and then PC games, and rediscovered the NES while he was in college. After he graduated, in 2002, he eventually settled into a job in market research, working 50-plus hours a week in Princeton, New Jersey, and living in nearby North Brunswick. He hated it.
One day in 2006, he came across the Angry Video Game Nerd’s irascible game reviews, and the sight of a character drinking beer and railing about the game Castlevania II: Simon’s Quest rang out to him. “I saw the AVGN doing well, but I saw a lot of bad videos out there too,” Contri says. “I’d watch them and think, ‘Not only does this person not know how to play the game, he didn’t include any history of it.’ At the very least, I thought I could do better.”
Contri made his first video, six and a half minutes of him as the Punk playing a couple of NES baseball games before landing on the best, Baseball Stars. He chose the nickname because he thought it had a ring to it, had an attitude, and, well, women he’d dated told him he acted like a punk. It also captured the overpowering feeling he got when he played the games; the NES made him happy, and the character was a weird, happy extension of who Contri really was. He made his second video a month later, about The Three Stooges, and then another one after that. He started pumping out videos, each loaded with enough humor, personality, and insider knowledge to set it apart from everything else online. In 2012, a few years after leaving New Jersey for San Diego, he quit his market research job and started making videos full time.
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Today Contri gets flown across the country up to a dozen times a year to attend video­game conventions, where he often arrives sleep-deprived and stressed, carving a smile in front of his fans. He schleps suitcases full of NES Punk wristbands and DVDs across banquet hallways and sits at a booth wearing a T-shirt and sandals, a guy with that perpetual five-o’clock shadow and the foppish hair, selling his merchandise and signing his name a hundred times on NES consoles and controllers and game cartridges. He earns six figures a year, his revenue coming from merchandise and book royalties; from YouTube ads and the sponsors of his two podcasts, Not So Common, which he hosts by himself, and the Completely Unnecessary Podcast, a show he cohosts with a friend named Ian Ferguson; from the Patreon supporters whose monthly donations help pay for his content.
As of earlier this year, the NES Punk videos were the least lucrative and most time-­consuming of all Contri’s ventures. One of his most recent videos, about a game called Stadium Events, took him more than 50 hours to create—much of that time spent researching the mysterious rarity of the game—and it attracted just over 70,000 views at last count, earning him a little less than $400. A low return, by any measure, and he’s started to think more and more about retiring the character and maybe doing something else with his time.
“For the last year and a half, I’ve never really known what he does for fun,” says Ferguson, who met Contri in 2008. “I can’t think of one specific hobby aside from exercise that he does that’s completely disconnected from work. His work was once his hobby, and now he’s married to that work.” Contri insists that he does, in fact, have other interests: “I like movies. I love the zoo. I like watching sports on TV. I hate the Patriots, but who doesn’t?” He’s never been married, has no kids, and lives alone, unless you count the Punk. “The Punk is just a character,” he says. “Sometimes people think it’s really me. But at some point this will end.”
In the game room where he films the videos, Contri lingered over the wall of NES cartridge games he no longer plays for fun. “I don’t know if they give me a feeling anymore,” he said. “And I don’t know if I’m still looking for that feeling. Most of us are well-adjusted adults now.” Maybe he meant the generation of adults who’d loved the NES as kids, or the obsessed people like him who’d collected the whole North American library (he keeps three games in a bank vault), or the really insane people who would want an ancient, mint-condition NES holographic cereal box, which he proudly showed me.
Pat Contri holding a jumbo-sized vintage Donkey Kong plush from 1982 at his home outside of San Diego.
SHAYAN ASGHARNIA
Contri doesn’t know what to do—walk the Punk into the sunset, or kill the character off. Nintendo is as popular as ever, which isn’t making the decision any easier. The Switch—a Nintendo console designed for middle-­aged people as much as it is for anyone—has sold more than 14 million units since it was released last year. Stores spent a year selling out of the NES and SNES Classic. And in the summer of 2016, Contri released a 437-page, $60 hardback coffee-table-sized bible called Ultimate Nintendo: Guide to the NES Library, 1985–1995, which took him nearly three years to finish 1. It includes reviews of every mainstream NES game released in the US along with information and factoids and NES curio history. He wrote 450 of the 800-plus reviews, then compiled it all before publishing it himself.
It suffocated him but turned into a surprise hit—with two print runs totaling 10,000 copies—thanks in part to his meticulous research and the surge in interest in retro NES games. It was a big reason why he was able to buy his house in San Diego, where Nintendo is on the walls and in the bedroom, on the floor and on the shelves, in the beady plastic eyes of the stuffed animals and on his personalized wristbands and the five-o’clock shadow that his YouTube character can never seem to get rid of. Nintendo forged him and allowed him the strange bounty of internet fame, not to mention a ton of crazy stuff he has collected for no other reason than that it probably made him feel like a kid.
He has already planned a sequel to the book, a guide for the Super Nintendo library that he hopes to publish next year. “I am happy, I think—I’ll definitely be happy, once I finish the next book,” he says. Contri’s hair is going a little gray, and he mentions that maybe the Punk might survive to have totally white hair—that maybe he could still be talking about games 30 years from now, like old men talking about toy train sets in the corners of convention ballrooms. He has enough games to make it all last forever. The Punk, an old guy, hunched over, still collecting, still playing the ancient games, still living in a house full of Nintendo.
Read More
Real Wedding, Virtual Space • The Pursuit of Youth • The Digital Vision Problem • The True Screen Addicts • Rebooting Reproduction • Silicon Valley's Brotox Boom • The Next Steve Jobs • Solving Health Issues at All Stages
Justin Heckert (@JustinHeckert) is a writer living in Charleston, South Carolina. This is his first feature for WIRED.
1 Correction appended, 3/27/18, 8:28 PM EDT: Contri published his book, Ultimate Nintendo: Guide to the NES Library, 1985–1995, in 2016, not 2017.
This article appears in the April issue. Subscribe now.
Related Video
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The History of Nintendo: By the Numbers
With the announcement of the Nintendo Switch and the discontinuation of the Wii U, let's take a look at some of the numbers behind the legendary video game company.
Read more: https://www.wired.com/story/nes-punk-nintendo-gamer/
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djzena · 7 years
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Prime Halloween Songs 2014
We asked folks throughout the office and on Twitter their favorite Halloween songs for #MusicMonday. That is the extra fun time once you can provide your kids Halloween pencils,little toys or other fun objects. As a former educator and mom of two (ages 3 and seven), this e book captured what Halloween is all about. There is quite literally no Halloween occasion with music that has ever occurred without the playing of this song. There are 18 enjoyable Halloween children' songs for you to scare your little ones with in this category, but we're satisfied there are lots more scary songs on the market we've yet to discover. I am aware these songs may have reached you after your Halloween party weekend, but don't forget there may be still Wednesday night (be careful to keep away from noise violations with increased fines) as well as this upcoming weekend (don't forget to celebrate Day of the Useless for some extra credit), so don't pack away your costumes but! Never thoughts the truth that Black Sabbath are the godfathers of metallic and Ozzy Osbourne is the Prince of Darkness: From a purely musical standpoint, Black Sabbath's eponymous music is diabolical. Hi- I found a really pale piece of paper in my Hallowenn stuf.. cirda 1974 or so. A hand written web page, very pale with the entire Lyrics to the Wobblin Goblin! One other Halloween tune that is been round for many years, this one is nice for youths as a result of the high-pitched, sped up voice of the monster makes him seem lovable, not scary. Halloween Land's delightfully whimsical melody bought a nightmarish rendition thanks to Marilyn Manson. Send over 21000+ Messages & Wishes to friends and family by way of WhatsApp, Facebook! Christmas Songs, Christmas carols, and music for the Vacation Season with lyrics and music to take heed to. Good songs to sing near the Christmas tree. Yeah after all Thriller might be Michael Jackson's hottest Halloween type jingle, however Ghosts is certainly the extra spookier tune. Both mother and father and lecturers will profit from enjoying Halloween songs The songs get your youngsters into the spirit, and interact them. Halloween Rock Band: Ever heard of a Halloween celebration with Rock music?I bet nobody has. Though it considerations the terrifying legendary being that seems throughout full moons, the tune's lyrics themselves are gentle and humorous. In the Netherlands, Halloween could also be a current Anglo-Saxon import, however that hasn't stopped Amsterdam from taking the holiday to its coronary heart, with a energetic variety of themed occasions geared toward all ages. In faculty, Halloween occasion colleges are a very completely different animal than your regular get together college. YouTube has helpfully supplied us with a listing of songs whose views and searches spike excessive above their regular amount every year round Hallow's Eve. Nonetheless, pondering it's charming” might say extra about me than it does about this tune, which is frightening. Many of these songs were not originally for youngsters,” says Kay Vandergrift, Professor Emerita of Kids's Literature at Rutgers College. From adorning the house to creating costumes and greeting playing cards, and completing faculty Halloween tasks, kids can do a lot. And why Marilyn Manson may not be parents' best choice of music artists for his or her youngsters to be listening to, he does an important job with the track and retains it clear. Take a look at Merely Said for a recipe and full directions to make this great and spooky Halloween Celebration punch with dismembered hand! In the event you determine to host a Halloween celebration, there are numerous spooky songs that you'll have to choose from that make your last playlist. The low-key tune is steeped in cinematic horror - its title refers back to the actor well-known for taking part in Dracula within the unique 1931 movie, and Bauhaus performed the track through the opening credits of 1983 horror film The Hunger. Coming soon: Hundreds of new songs to teach seasons, climate, professions, good habits, manners, and many others. It definitely is one of the livelier musical items to have on the list for Halloween as evening music. We start by discussing nursery rhymes typically, and by naming as lots of them as we can. Party music from the rest of the yr's playlists will still be confirmed floorfillers, of course, from your pop classics to chart hits and beyond. Flip a big, hollowed-out Halloween pumpkin into a target for throwing objects. Young kids often go trick or treating with dad and mom or with an older brother or sister. Since we specialize in putting collectively custom playlists for companies, we pulled collectively the best Halloween playlist for a fun and spooky night time out. I too was a bit anxious about how far the halloween theme could be taken but fortunately it was very much toddler pleasant - the costumes aren't scary (see photos within the post). The creepy halloween music went to #2 on the pop singles chart in the US and was certified gold. Entwistle got here up with the music after an evening of ingesting and making up goofy names for animals and bugs with Rolling Stones bassist Invoice Wyman , which could explain why is voice is so scratchy. To capitalize on my boys' love of Halloween (and holidays on the whole), our mommy college actions this month are going to have rather a lot to do with pumpkins, scarecrows, owls, and silly monsters. The first is a recording you could just take heed to, whereas the second is a video that you can watch and see the ESL occasion vocabulary flashcards concurrently listening to the proper pronunciation. My kindergartner LOVES this guide full of acquainted nursery rhymes and fully intriguing new paintings. They're maybe finest identified for his or her version of The Hearse Tune”; a a long time-old, morbid children's track that audiences may know from its inclusion in Scary Tales to Tell in the Darkish. Halloween is arguably probably the most fun holidays of the 12 months, and but, so few appear conscious of the unbelievable plethora of Halloween music. Rockwell had been typically unknown before this large hit propelled them to #2 in the US pop charts. A brand new addition to the Halloween canon, this six minute epic from Kanye West was the high point of his My Beautiful Darkish Twisted Fantasy Opus and featured an all-star guest list, together with Jay Z, Rick Ross and, for some cause, Bon Iver. Of course, there are plenty of different awesome Halloween songs we may have included, but this list consists of a few of the classics and in addition some you will have by no means heard before that we hope you get pleasure from and add to your Halloween repertoire for http://disney.wikia.com/wiki/Frozen years to come back. Three scheming witch sisters are back to attain immortality after their hanging 300 years ago—and they're casting spells via tune and dance alongside the way. Take heed to our high 10 as you ready yourselves to roam the dark and bitter streets!
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trendingnewsb · 6 years
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The Nintendo King and the Midlife Crisis
It was December in San Diego, the palm trees strung with tinsel in Ocean Beach. Pat Contri shuffled barefoot on the floor of his game room, black hair wet from the shower and curling above his eyes. He was in front of a wall of nearly 1,000 games for the Nintendo Entertainment System, the greatest console ever released; the wall, floor to ceiling, was amazing to behold, Contri as small as Ahab in front of his whale. He read from the spines of gray plastic cartridges he’d spent two decades collecting: Spy Hunter, with its Peter Gunn theme, which he got for Christmas in 1987; Jaws, which he picked up at a flea market with his mother in Rahway, New Jersey, a year or two later; Zelda II, a game he had his parents order from the Sears catalog in 1988, a game he cried over because it took forever to arrive.
The wall was both a shrine to his life’s hobby and the backdrop for his work. For a decade, Contri has played a character called Pat the NES Punk for nearly 250,000 viewers on YouTube. Fans recognize him at the airport, at the gym, at the swap meets, and he has become not just an expert on Nintendo but a public face for anyone who grew up with the NES, anyone who’s worn a Donkey Kong T-shirt or who still has the Super Mario Bros. theme song thumping in their heart.
The Punk is goofier than the real-life Contri—a bit more manic, an exaggeration of his id. Games are the Punk’s life, and thoughts of the NES sing him to sleep and then wake him in sweat. Almost all of his videos, which run around 10 minutes, focus on the Punk’s experience with a single NES game. Each is a combination history lesson and review, delivered with a narrative voice that lets Contri (as writer, director, and star) show off his sense of humor, his knowledge of Nintendo, and occasionally even the depths of his introspection—about being boxed into an endless childhood by video­games, about the inherent sadness of trying to fill a hole in his life with them.
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Nik Mirus
One of Contri’s best videos, a 12-minute piece from 2013 dedicated to the rare and expensive NES game The Flintstones: The Surprise at Dinosaur Peak!, begins with the Punk rustling awake from a fever dream, choking out “I need help.” And, looking at his games: “What am I doing? They’re just video­games. I’m holding like a thousand bucks’ worth right in my hands. That could be going to something useful, something memorable. Like a vacation! I could go anywhere I want. Scotland. Italy. Tahiti …” And there he pauses. “I wonder if there’s NES games in Tahiti.”
It was a bit, mostly, but as Nintendo celebrates the 33rd birthday of its historic console—and as Contri approaches 38—it was also a sign of the conflict within him. Like a lot of people who were born in the years just before and after the launch of the NES, he is no longer young and not nearly old, neither new nor vintage, and it seems like he has started to feel a bit lost in the in-between. “I don’t know if I want to be 65 years old talking about retro video­games,” he told me. “I don’t want that to be the only thing I talk about forever. I think sometimes, ‘Is this where my talent begins and ends?’ ” He says he doesn’t play NES video­games anymore—except when he’s in character—and that it’s different now: It’s work. He admits this in resignation, like it’s sacrilege, the man for whom Nintendo became a career.
“There’s something a little self-deprecating about the Punk character, and about my character too,” says James Rolfe, a 37-year-old godfather of YouTube gamers who plays a character named the Angry Video Game Nerd and is a collaborator of Contri’s. “All these YouTube characters have some kind of element of sadness to them. Thinking back to childhood, were we wasting our time with games? Were we really entertaining ourselves? Were we really happy?”
Contri’s home library consists of nearly 1,000 NES games.
SHAYAN ASGHARNIA
Contri is a 37-year-old man who has been playing video­games his entire life. His cousin’s Atari 2600, when he was 4. His family’s PC-IBM XT. Then he was 7 when his parents bought him an NES console, and pre­adolescent Pat started spending hours in his family’s rec room in front of a small Magnavox monitor. Later, in high school, he played Super Nintendo and then PC games, and rediscovered the NES while he was in college. After he graduated, in 2002, he eventually settled into a job in market research, working 50-plus hours a week in Princeton, New Jersey, and living in nearby North Brunswick. He hated it.
One day in 2006, he came across the Angry Video Game Nerd’s irascible game reviews, and the sight of a character drinking beer and railing about the game Castlevania II: Simon’s Quest rang out to him. “I saw the AVGN doing well, but I saw a lot of bad videos out there too,” Contri says. “I’d watch them and think, ‘Not only does this person not know how to play the game, he didn’t include any history of it.’ At the very least, I thought I could do better.”
Contri made his first video, six and a half minutes of him as the Punk playing a couple of NES baseball games before landing on the best, Baseball Stars. He chose the nickname because he thought it had a ring to it, had an attitude, and, well, women he’d dated told him he acted like a punk. It also captured the overpowering feeling he got when he played the games; the NES made him happy, and the character was a weird, happy extension of who Contri really was. He made his second video a month later, about The Three Stooges, and then another one after that. He started pumping out videos, each loaded with enough humor, personality, and insider knowledge to set it apart from everything else online. In 2012, a few years after leaving New Jersey for San Diego, he quit his market research job and started making videos full time.
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Today Contri gets flown across the country up to a dozen times a year to attend video­game conventions, where he often arrives sleep-deprived and stressed, carving a smile in front of his fans. He schleps suitcases full of NES Punk wristbands and DVDs across banquet hallways and sits at a booth wearing a T-shirt and sandals, a guy with that perpetual five-o’clock shadow and the foppish hair, selling his merchandise and signing his name a hundred times on NES consoles and controllers and game cartridges. He earns six figures a year, his revenue coming from merchandise and book royalties; from YouTube ads and the sponsors of his two podcasts, Not So Common, which he hosts by himself, and the Completely Unnecessary Podcast, a show he cohosts with a friend named Ian Ferguson; from the Patreon supporters whose monthly donations help pay for his content.
As of earlier this year, the NES Punk videos were the least lucrative and most time-­consuming of all Contri’s ventures. One of his most recent videos, about a game called Stadium Events, took him more than 50 hours to create—much of that time spent researching the mysterious rarity of the game—and it attracted just over 70,000 views at last count, earning him a little less than $400. A low return, by any measure, and he’s started to think more and more about retiring the character and maybe doing something else with his time.
“For the last year and a half, I’ve never really known what he does for fun,” says Ferguson, who met Contri in 2008. “I can’t think of one specific hobby aside from exercise that he does that’s completely disconnected from work. His work was once his hobby, and now he’s married to that work.” Contri insists that he does, in fact, have other interests: “I like movies. I love the zoo. I like watching sports on TV. I hate the Patriots, but who doesn’t?” He’s never been married, has no kids, and lives alone, unless you count the Punk. “The Punk is just a character,” he says. “Sometimes people think it’s really me. But at some point this will end.”
In the game room where he films the videos, Contri lingered over the wall of NES cartridge games he no longer plays for fun. “I don’t know if they give me a feeling anymore,” he said. “And I don’t know if I’m still looking for that feeling. Most of us are well-adjusted adults now.” Maybe he meant the generation of adults who’d loved the NES as kids, or the obsessed people like him who’d collected the whole North American library (he keeps three games in a bank vault), or the really insane people who would want an ancient, mint-condition NES holographic cereal box, which he proudly showed me.
Pat Contri holding a jumbo-sized vintage Donkey Kong plush from 1982 at his home outside of San Diego.
SHAYAN ASGHARNIA
Contri doesn’t know what to do—walk the Punk into the sunset, or kill the character off. Nintendo is as popular as ever, which isn’t making the decision any easier. The Switch—a Nintendo console designed for middle-­aged people as much as it is for anyone—has sold more than 14 million units since it was released last year. Stores spent a year selling out of the NES and SNES Classic. And in the summer of 2016, Contri released a 437-page, $60 hardback coffee-table-sized bible called Ultimate Nintendo: Guide to the NES Library, 1985–1995, which took him nearly three years to finish 1. It includes reviews of every mainstream NES game released in the US along with information and factoids and NES curio history. He wrote 450 of the 800-plus reviews, then compiled it all before publishing it himself.
It suffocated him but turned into a surprise hit—with two print runs totaling 10,000 copies—thanks in part to his meticulous research and the surge in interest in retro NES games. It was a big reason why he was able to buy his house in San Diego, where Nintendo is on the walls and in the bedroom, on the floor and on the shelves, in the beady plastic eyes of the stuffed animals and on his personalized wristbands and the five-o’clock shadow that his YouTube character can never seem to get rid of. Nintendo forged him and allowed him the strange bounty of internet fame, not to mention a ton of crazy stuff he has collected for no other reason than that it probably made him feel like a kid.
He has already planned a sequel to the book, a guide for the Super Nintendo library that he hopes to publish next year. “I am happy, I think—I’ll definitely be happy, once I finish the next book,” he says. Contri’s hair is going a little gray, and he mentions that maybe the Punk might survive to have totally white hair—that maybe he could still be talking about games 30 years from now, like old men talking about toy train sets in the corners of convention ballrooms. He has enough games to make it all last forever. The Punk, an old guy, hunched over, still collecting, still playing the ancient games, still living in a house full of Nintendo.
Read More
Real Wedding, Virtual Space • The Pursuit of Youth • The Digital Vision Problem • The True Screen Addicts • Rebooting Reproduction • Silicon Valley's Brotox Boom • The Next Steve Jobs • Solving Health Issues at All Stages
Justin Heckert (@JustinHeckert) is a writer living in Charleston, South Carolina. This is his first feature for WIRED.
1 Correction appended, 3/27/18, 8:28 PM EDT: Contri published his book, Ultimate Nintendo: Guide to the NES Library, 1985–1995, in 2016, not 2017.
This article appears in the April issue. Subscribe now.
Related Video
Gaming
The History of Nintendo: By the Numbers
With the announcement of the Nintendo Switch and the discontinuation of the Wii U, let's take a look at some of the numbers behind the legendary video game company.
Read more: https://www.wired.com/story/nes-punk-nintendo-gamer/
from Viral News HQ https://ift.tt/2HmnM3Q via Viral News HQ
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