#character from the bare minimum of the ‘bad at naming’ gag then so be it. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

medicifm · 3 years

Text

* not me actually writing an intro the night before like i always mean to 😳 hennyway hey biddies , i'm chloe , im in the snowy part of pst , & i use she / her pns . i’ve been . . . . . . . scouring the tags for an rp like this so im so excited to bring this newish muse of mine here ! im here to do the honours of introducing my himbo - on - the outside , manipulative - shit - on - the - inside . . . oscar 🤡

( twenty three , cis man , he / him ) ✉ ― hey babes , have you met OSCAR MEDICI ? they’re working here as THE HEAD CHEF AT LORENZO’S , a few villas down from where ��you’re staying . you might hear them singing ALRIGHTY APHRODITE BY PEACH PIT playing from their villa , it’s their favourite song . yes , they hear that they look like JACK GILINSKY a lot , actually - it’s really uncanny . their friends back home in SYDNEY , AUSTRALIA say that if they were on a tv show , their trope would be THE WOLF IN SHEEP’S CLOTHING , how funny is that ? ✎ chloe , 22 , she/her , pst

𝐢 .

pinterest | wanted plots |

𝐢𝐢 .

name : oscar gabriel medici

age : twenty three

dob / sign : december 4th , 1997 / sagittarius sun , leo moon , libra rising

pob : sydney , australia

gender / pronouns : cis man & he / him / his

career : head chef at lorenzo’s , full - time heathen , professional disappointment for mothers everywhere .

drinking / drugs / smoking : yes / more often than he’d admit / never .

religion : jewish background , currently non - practicing .

physical : jack gilinsky fc , dark brown / black longish curls ( reference ) , dark brown eyes , canon jack g’s tattoos , no piercings , 6′2″ , 175 lbs , lean but strong . tattoos a la canon!jack , pearly white smile that he may . . . or may not . . . use crest 3D white strips weekly to maintain . lots of burns & scars from kitchen mishaps on his hands & arms .

traits : hard - working , flighty , intelligent , hedonistic , charismatic , intense , volatile ,

other : speaks weird french ( aussie accent tings ) , tans easily but wears sunscreen nonetheless , works hard parties harder , can’t read a lick of french but spends a lot of his free time with a coffee & a new paperback , has a bit of an internal vendetta against rich people ( for no real reason , he just doesn’t like most of them ) , has ins with a bunch the local farmers & visits them weekly , pretends he isn’t lowkey addicted to nicotine administered via a puff bar , liquor of preference is tequila or red wine , drives a lil vespa around town for the gag of it ( loves seeing it haphazardly parked amongst a bunch of luxury cars ) ,

character inspo : jess mariano ( gilmore girls ) , gordon ramsey 🤡 , patrick verona ( 10 things i hate about you ) , ferris bueller ( ferris bueller’s day off ) , han solo ( star wars ) .

𝐢𝐢𝐢 .

oscar’s arrival was as unwanted to his parents as could be : a father whose tendencies leaned towards alcoholism & abusing whoever was in arms reach , a mother whose life was more or less spent at the nursing home she worked as a nurse at , evading home . he became a self - inflicted loner , preferring to do literally the exact opposite of what was expected or wanted from him . he had a few friends he ran with , but watching them all go off & study or prepare for university solidified in oscar’s mind that the non - traditional route was for him . growing up by the water , oscar always felt more drawn to skip school & head to the beach than he did obeying his parents wishes .

one of his solaces was his grandfather , gabriel , who owned an italian restaurant in a beach town north of sydney . whenever the weather was bad & oscar felt like ditching class , he’d head over to his nono’s restaurant where his ass would be put to work as soon as he set eyes on the restaurant . it was tough work , but challenging in a way that fanned the flames in oscar’s heart , rather than dimming them . by the time he was a teenager he was working in the restaurant everyday after school , an agreement between him & his grandfather framed on the back wall that stated that as long as oscar kept from flunking out , he was allowed to spend as little or as much time in the kitchen as he pleased .

his absolute defiance of anything traditional & following the rules made him unpopular with adults , but lowkey cool with the girls . by the time he was sixteen , he was losing his focus on the restaurant & his grades & spending more & more time chasing after girls . his nono tried to get oscar to come back & focus , but as always , anything he’s asked to do quickly becomes the thing he’s running from the most .

tw : death , cancer . around his eighteenth birthday , his grandfather suddenly fell ill with a rare form of cancer that took his life six weeks after diagnosis , which rocked oscar’s world . he felt overwhelming guilt that he hadn’t spent more time with his grandfather , which manifested itself as oscar dropping out of school a year shy of graduation to commit himself fully to perfecting his grandfather’s techniques , learning all of his recipes ( read : pouring over dozens of handwritten cookbooks ) in some failed attempt to get back some time with him . oscar hadn’t been close with his parents in years , more or less seeing them as wardens of a prison he wanted nothing to do with . his grandfather’s will left him the deed to the restaurant , with an ask that oscar would promise to act on whatever he felt called towards , rather than doing what others expected of him . to be candid , this whole situation crushed him .

eventually , he decided he’d had enough of the stifling community he’d grown up in . he sold the restaurant to one of the regulars , a wealthy man who he’d come to acknowledge as somewhat of an uncle ; a safe pair of hands who would treat his grandfather’s legacy with as much passion & respect as oscar himself would . so he packed a bag , texted his mom that he was going traveling , & got on a flight that evening . he traveled all around - first through central america , then through europe , throughout asia & africa , & spent a few months driving a van across the continental united states & canada for fun .

eventually , he started getting low - ish on money , & decided to settle in one of his favourite places he’d visited : southern france . he arrived in early 2018 , taking on whatever menial tasks he could while learning french until he got a position as a line cook in an italian restaurant . a few years later , he’s made his way up to filling the head chef position , an honour he takes with pride . he’s implemented many of his own recipes while using flavours he’s learned from his travels , with ingredients straight from local farmers . he’s earned the restaurant a two michelin star rating , & is constantly striving for more to get that last star ( both for his own ego as well as a secret debt to his grandfather ) .

𝐢𝐯 .

ok but that vid where gordon puts two pieces of bread on someone’s head & calls them an idiot sandwich ? that’s oscar . intense as fuck in the kitchen , & best nobody catch an attitude about it bc he will not hesitate to hand them their ass on a silver platter .

another gordon reference : you know how he’s the spawn of satan with adults , but the sweetest , most helpul guy with children ? that’s oscar with his staff vs people he wants something from . whether its to sleep with them ( usually his first instinct to be fair ) , their money or clout , or to get into some wild adventure some random resort staff wouldn’t dream of getting into , he can turn on the charm whenever needed .

can go from absolutely demoralizing someone in the kitchen to stepping out into the lounge to schmooze with his friends or cougars who leave phat tips in 0.2 seconds . the speed at which his mood can completely 180 is one of the seven world wonders ( last i checked ) .

his love language is absolutely acts of service . catch him actually falling in love once in a blue moon & making it his mission to cook her extravagant meals everyday .

the wolf in sheep’s clothing label epitomizes his nice , helpful , charismatic exterior , while ulterior motives & disdain for those who grew up with more money than he did lurk beneath the surface .

he can be MEAN when someone fucks him over or pushes him farther than he wants - isn’t afraid to go for the low blows or send someone home with an identity crisis if it protects himself .

lowkey alcoholic but he’s not ready for that conversation yet . he sees it more as perks of the location & atmosphere he’s found himself in .

also lowkey falls in love HARD , like this man is a closeted romantic but self - sabotages all potential relationships before they can get to that point out of fear he’ll be unable to live life of his own volition ( takes a flaky philophobic sagittarius to know a flaky philophobic sagittarius 🤡 ) . has probably only had a few real relationships besides flings bc he’s afraid .

𝐯 .

check out my wanted plots tag listed here , as well as my pinterest wanted plots board here . here are some other suggestions hehe :

best friend / ride or die : someone who knows about his past , keeps him grounded when he’s lk spiraling & wants to drop everything & flee to some far flung corner of the earth .

actual relationship : it was fast - burn with deep feelings ( not them thinking they’re soulmates after dating for a month . . . pete & ariana type beat ) but completely unrealistic . they have their own life , he’s pretty much tied to the restaurant , not to mention his lack of sharing anything about his childhood / life back home . they loved & cared for each other , but crashed & burned fairly quickly because of how idealistic it was . they can either be on bad or good terms now .

hateship with sexual tension 😈

summer flings !!

fake boyfriend : he shows up on her arm to her family’s events where she’s expected to have a partner . it’s not a real relationship , but her parents don’t need to know that . he plays the part & satisfies her parents beyond the bare minimum , & in return she invites him to parties , takes him out on her family’s yacht , etc etc . we luv some symbiosis

i can always use more fwbs hehehe

squad : a group of people who do everything together , have a chaotic group chat , have nicknames for one another , are utd on each other’s sex lives , party all night then show up to brunch hungover together .

cat & mouse : someone he’s pursuing who isn’t quite giving in , & vice versa . maybe it’s been going on a few years , everytime they’re in st tropez they have this weird lil flirtationship thing goin on until she leaves , they forget about one another , then pick it right back up when she returns .

confidant : preferably someone from a working class background who understands his plight of being a worker amongst people who expect to be waited on .

enemies : they don’t like his attitude , & he doesn’t like them in return . lots of eye rolls , shit talking , & tension between their mutual friends .

we’re sleeping together but we shouldn’t be but that’s half the fun : for whatever reason they became friends , starting hooking up despite it not being a good idea ( read : he’s exes with one of her friends , her parents want her focused on career , they’re part of the same friend group , etc ) . . . but now they can’t stop . lots of stolen glances across rooms , squeezing past one another in a crowded club just close enough for a quick touch to the back , quietly leaving one another’s places the morning after & playing dumb to anyone who asks .

#villasintro #eeeek im hyped !!

15 notes · View notes

emachinescat · 3 years

Text

The Neglected Neckerchief

A Merlin Fan-Fiction

by @emachinescat

@febuwhump day 21 - torture

Summary: A group of bandits torture Merlin in front of Arthur for their own entertainment, using Merlin’s beloved neckerchief against him in the cruelest of manners. Now, Arthur must struggle to come to terms with a traumatized Merlin, whose neckerchief has been replaced by a ring of bruises.

Characters: Merlin, Arthur

Words: 4,730

TW: strangulation, panic attacks

Note: Based on my drabble series from “Moments” by the same name. Sorry for no cover/header picture today. I'm sick and doing the bare minimum. I will add one later when I feel up to making one!

Keep reading here, or on AO3!

If you enjoy, please consider liking, commenting, or re-blogging, and you can follow me for more content like this! :)

Arthur had never understood his servant's attachment to that ratty triangle of fabric he wore around his neck. When he had first met Merlin, in fact, Arthur had downright hated it. He'd pestered his servant about it on many occasions, questioning the practicality, the fashion, the function of the neckerchief. Of course, Merlin never failed to follow up with a clever retort, but he never really answered the question, and eventually, Arthur got bored of teasing Merlin for his clothes and moved on to something else.

As the years passed, however, Arthur's derision for the odd neckwear faded, and before long, he found himself associating the neckerchief with Merlin himself. It got to the point where seeing Merlin without the accessory felt strange, and before he knew it, the prince realized that he actually liked that stupid scarf – though he would die before he admitted it to Merlin.

Now that he was older, perhaps a bit wiser than he had been as a young prince, King Arthur had a feeling that it wasn't so much the neckerchief that he'd grown to like, but the person who wore it. And since Merlin and his neckerchief were one and the same, it stood to reason that the king would have grown fond of it as well. Not that he would ever admit his affection for his servant out loud, either, of course. Not in so many words – or any words, really. That just wasn't how his relationship with Merlin worked.

Indeed, somewhere along the way, Merlin's neckerchief had become as much of a staple in Arthur's life as the servant himself. And yet, in the span of one bandit attack during a morning hunt, that all changed.

It had started off, as these things often do, as a normal patrol. It was a beautiful day, bright and warm, the sort of day where you would never expect anything horrible to happen. And yet –

It had been a week since the hunt turned to hell, and Arthur could still recall it so vividly that he might as well have been experiencing it all over again. Those five minutes of torture had branded themselves so deeply into his mind's eye that every time he fell asleep, he would go back – back to the forest, to the bandits and their laughter and their hands holding him back, holding him down. Back to the sounds. Oh gods, the sounds. Gagging, choking, panicked breaths, a mouth gaping open like a fish's, searching desperately for air that wouldn't come. Blue lips, still chest, and laughter. And, of course, in the center of it all, Merlin's beloved neckerchief.

***

One Week Ago

"Looks like we got a fine catch today, gentlemen!" The short, ugly brute of a bandit grinned at Arthur, half of his teeth rotten and the other half missing all together. "Is this a knight of Camelot we've stumbled upon?"

Arthur was relieved that they hadn't recognized him to be the king, at least. He tried to be as inconspicuous as possible on his outings, having Merlin hold on to the royal seal if they were going anywhere outside of the citadel – bandits generally ignored servants and focused on the more important looking people, after all. It was a clever trick, provided Merlin didn't lose the seal. So far, he'd kept up with it well enough on their journeys, and this time, it seemed to be paying off, as these bandits thought they were playing with just another knight and his servant.

But that didn't change the fact that Arthur and Merlin had been taken off guard, ambushed, and tied hand and foot by a band of ten morally bereft, muscle-heavy monsters who wouldn't know hygiene if it crashed into their thick skulls. Arthur had been shoved to his knees and held there by four men, who still struggled to keep him still. Two other men had done the same to his servant, but other than the usual bumps and bruises from fighting a losing battle, neither Arthur nor Merlin were hurt.

Arthur may not have been injured, but he was angry, mostly with himself. He'd known it was a bad idea to go on a hunt without any of the knights or guards to accompany him. He'd let Merlin come along because he knew that the obsessively loyal servant would have followed him anyway, and he'd much rather have Merlin by his side so he could keep an eye on him instead of being forced to listen to him thrashing around in the undergrowth making a racket while trying to be stealthy. As Athur had been reminded by his council many times, he was king now, and he had a responsibility to think not only of the safety and well-being of his people, but of himself as well. That meant no more running around in the forest on hunts or patrols without a guard. That meant telling the council where he was going to be at all times so that they would know to send someone after him if he didn't get back in time.

But Arthur had had enough. It had been a month since his father's death, and he was stifled in the castle. Even when he wasn't in Camelot, people still surrounded him on patrols and hunts, and even when those people were some of his closest friends – the knights – he often felt like he was being smothered, and his skin crawled at the thought of having to sit through one more council meeting or supervised hunt. He'd needed to get away. He'd told Guievere where he was going, of course. And then he'd grabbed his servant, all but dragging him out of the castle at the break of day, and they'd passed a pleasant enough morning, with Merlin scaring away half the prey. But as with most good things in King Arthur's life, this too had to end. The ambush had been unexpected and swift, and Guinevere wasn't expecting him back until evening – they were on their own.

As casually as he could, Arthur implored the bandits, "You have me, a knight of Camelot. My servant is of no use to you. Let him go."

The short, stocky bandit who seemed to be in charge considered this for a brief moment before crossing his tree-branch arms across his chest. "So he can run back to your coward king and bring a rescue party? Not likely."

"We're miles away from Camelot," Arthur pressed. "You could be long gone with me before he brings anyone back."

From the corner of his eye, Arthur watched Merlin frantically shake his head. Arthur ignored him, and prayed that the idiot would stay silent. All it would take would be Merlin saying "Arthur" one time, and the bandits would realize their mistake – and quickly seek to rectify it. Thankfully, Merlin seemed to be aware of the situation, and for once, blessedly, kept his mouth shut.

The leader ambled forward, brow creased as if thinking were incredibly painful for him. "You seem awfully keen to protect that servant of yours. Most knights don't give a damn about the help if their own lives are in danger. What's so special about that one?"

Arthur maintained eye contact with the brute before him. "I care about all those I have sworn to protect as a knight."

"Oh, that's rich!" A chorus of laughter from the surrounding bandits grated at Arthur's nerves. "Nah," the man continued, casting a glance over his shoulder at the skinny servant who glared defiantly back. "With those pretty blue eyes, I reckon he's more than just a servant."

"Yeah," called one of the bandits forcing Merlin to kneel. "The knight's consort I'd wager."

The leader swivelled back to face Arthur. "Is that it, Sir Knight? Is he your consort?"

Arthur didn't answer.

"Oh, now you clam up." The bandit leader seemed genuinely disappointed that he didn't get an answer. He peered at Arthur through slitted, suspicious eyes for a few charged seconds. Then he threw back his head and laughed.

"Well, lads, why don't we have a bit of fun before we head out?"

Arthur glanced at Merlin, and saw the servant looking back at him with wide, uncertain eyes. To Arthur's surprise, Merlin didn't look scared. In fact, Arthur thought that his servant appeared to be more conflicted than anything, like he was trying to make a difficult decision. Baffling as that was, it was hardly the most important thing on Arthur's mind at the moment.

The leader signaled to the men holding Merlin, and then everything went to hell.

One of the men lashed out with frightening speed for someone of his size, landing a devastating blow in the center of Merlin's back at the very second the servant was released. Arthur watched the kick connect, heard the pained cry, felt the thump as Merlin sprawled face-first onto the forest floor, hands tied behind his back, unable to move, barely able to breathe. Arthur had received similar kicks before, and he knew all too well the terror-inducing breathlessness that accompanied such injuries. He'd rarely wanted to kill someone as much as he wanted to kill the bandit who had inflicted such pain and panic on his servant.

But they weren't done yet. It got far, far worse.

The leader of the bandits stepped forward then, and squatted at the feebly stirring Merlin's side, still facing the king. Every muscle in Arthur's body tensed; his heart pounded deafeningly in his ears. Something very bad was going to happen, he could feel it in every fiber of his being. He'd seen enough violence and war and bloodshed, enough monsters, to know that this was far from over.

The bandit leader reached over and fingered the fabric of Merlin's neckerchief – he'd worn the blue one today. Arthur watched the idea form in the man's head even as Merlin began to recover a bit of his breath and attempted to squirm away from the bandit's touch. "Interesting fashion choice," the leader commented, sarcasm slathered generously on each word. "Makes my job easier though."

He clenched his meaty fist around the back of Merlin's scarf, and, keeping his eyes trained on the knight before him, slowly pulled up.

To Arthur, the world had slipped into slow motion. It was like the minutes just before a storm, when nature held its breath, birds forgot how to sing, and all of creation readied itself for the violence to come. He watched, horror coursing through him, as the first waves of realization and then panic dawned on his servant's dazed face. Blue eyes bulged wide, mouth opened in a soundless scream, and still, the bandit pulled.

The bandit took his time. He was in no rush. Arthur could see from the wild, glassy glint in his beady green eyes that he was relishing the control he had over the situation, over the man he was strangling. He never looked away from Arthur, not even when the agonized choking, coughing, gasping, hacking sounds began in earnest. Arthur, for his part, tried to ignore the man, and, as much as it hurt him, tore at his soul and twisted his stomach, the king kept his eyes on Merlin, trying to offer him comfort, reassurance, anything. Until Merlin's eyes started to dim, and his eyelids drooped as if a heavy weight had been tied to them, and the frantic heaves of his chest grew weak, and he knew Merlin was dying.

Despite his resolve to remain strong and unaffected, and despite his hopes that the bandit leader would grow tired of his cruel game if he thought Arthur was not emotionally invested, Arthur lost control. It had become clear to him that the man torturing Merlin did not care if he elicited a reaction from his other prisoner. He was tormenting – killing – Merlin because it was fun for him; the pleasure had written itself into his bright eyes and twisted smile. And Merlin was going to die.

Arthur lunged forward, a feral yell bursting from the deepest part of himself, and even with his hands bound behind his back and his ankles tied together, he nearly managed to shake off all of the four men holding him – and then three more added to their number, and Arthur found himself face-down just feet from Merlin, who was all but unconscious, barely fighting to breathe, and the pressure of the bandits on top of him was crushing. Arthur barely felt it beneath the weight of his failure.

The bandit leader now loomed over both master and servant, and to Arthur's surprise, he eased up pressure, releasing his grip slightly on Merlin's neckerchief and allowing the servant to drag in desperate, halted breaths, his eyes now bulging. Merlin coughed, deep, raw sounds grinding out from a shredded throat. Arthur could see a terrible, angry red line circling Merlin's neck, just beneath the neckerchief.

"Merlin – are you all right?" Arthur kept his voice low, hushed.

Tears were streaming down Merlin's cheeks, whether from fear or lack of oxygen or pain, Arthur didn't know. He tried to speak, and his voice hurt to hear; he sounded like his vocal chords had been slashed. "Aarrrrr…"

"Shhh," Arthur soothed, partially out of concern for Merlin's health, partially out of fear that Merlin would reveal Arthur's true identity. "It's okay, it's okay. Just breathe, okay? I'll find a way out of this." And Merlin looked at Arthur with such unmitigated trust in his gaze that Arthur felt like running himself through with his sword, because he had no plan. He had no hope. Surely, Merlin could see that, even in his state. Arthur had seven bandits piled on top of him, holding him motionless. The guilt crashed into Arthur with all the force of a battering ram into a fortress door. This was all his fault.

"S'not … your … fault," Merlin heaved out with great difficulty, and Arthur's blood ran cold. He was certain he hadn't said that out loud. How had Merlin known? It hit him – Merlin had known that Arthur was blaming himself because he knew Arthur.

The moment shattered as the bandit leader butted in, voice loud and abrasive, sending chills of fury across Arthur's flesh like an attacking army. "Now that you've got your breath back, Merlin, let's start from the top."

Arthur watched Merlin's eyes go wide with fear, and Arthur must have been giddy with it himself, because he could have sworn he saw a tiny bit of gold swirling in their depths right before the neckerchief was tightened and the imagined flame died out, and only terror remained.

The second time was just as slow and measured as the first. The bandit applied pressure in the tiniest increments, and this time, Arthur got a front-row view of the light leaving his friend's eyes. The noises were even worse up close, the coughs and gasps taking on the helm of death rattles. Merlin thrashed at first, trying to escape, to breathe, to do anything, and his lips lost color and turned blue, and now he was barely moving, barely breathing, and this time, the bandit leader had no intention of stopping.

Merlin's head and shoulders were now being held aloft by only the fabric around his neck, and his struggles ceased completely, his chest stilled.

Arthur squirmed desperately beneath the hold of the seven bandits, but even the adrenaline screaming through his body was not enough to throw them off. He could fear hot tears on his cheeks, knowing that if Merlin was not dead now, he would be soon. Arthur had been tortured before – it wasn't a common occurrence, but it had happened. And yet, nothing had prepared him for the kind of torture he had endured – was still enduring – in watching his closest friend die slowly and painfully, terrified, right in front of him. Arthur wanted to rip the men who were doing this limb from limb. He wanted to slowly squeeze the life out of the one strangling Merlin.

He wanted them to be strangling him instead.

All seemed lost – and would have been, if a Camelot patrol hadn't heard the commotion from a distance and come to investigate. There were six men, and they had the element of surprise. One moment, all was anguish and torture and the gut-clenching quiet that came at the end of life. The next, a short, fierce battle raged all around him. As soon as the bandits loosened their grip on him and Gwaine cut him free, Arthur joined the fight, catching the sword tossed at him by Elyan.

He ran through the man who had tortured his servant personally, with the same level of twisted glee and intimacy with which the man had strangled Merlin. It was so much more than he deserved.

Once the bandits had all been slain and lay scattered on the forest floor, Arthur raced to Merlin's side, slamming to his knees beside the servant. His hand shook so badly as he felt for the beat of Merlin's heart that Elyan had to take over, and his dark eyes were grave as he looked back at Arthur and shook his head.

"No," Arthur said simply, refusing to believe that Merlin was truly gone, that he had watched his friend die terribly before his eyes. "No, check again."

"No time for that," Gwaine snapped, falling to his knees on the opposite side of the servant and bending over the prone body. The blue of Merlin's lips was almost as vibrant as the color of the neckerchief that had so cruelly been turned against him.

The next few minutes passed in a blur of anxiety, disbelief, and finally relief, as Gwaine breathed for him, Arthur pounded on his chest, and Percival carried him home.

***

Merlin hadn't worn his neckerchief since that torturous day. He was sullen and nervous, jumping at small noises and avoiding Arthur, and refusing to wear anything to cover up those ghastly bruises.

He hadn't been able to talk for nearly a week after he'd woken up; Gaius said he was lucky that his windpipe wasn't crushed. But even after, Merlin barely spoke.

And gods, those bruises.

They encircled Merlin's pale neck like a grotesque mockery of the very scarf that had caused it. They had reached the stage where the very edges had started to yellow, but the inner ring was black, mottled with red and blue. Just looking at it hurt, and it was a constant reminder of the torture Merlin had gone through … and that Arthur had gone through, watching him. Arthur could not fathom that Merlin would prefer to walk around with those bruises in plain sight – surely they had to trigger bad memories as much as, if not more than, the neckerchief?

It was stupid, but Arthur couldn't stop himself thinking that when Merlin wore his neckerchief again, it would mean things were back to normal. That he was okay.

And so Arthur had a neckerchief made out of the finest material Guinevere could procure in the market. It was silk, so soft to the touch that Arthur wouldn't have minded falling asleep in it. It was a deep, Camelot red, and so light it was almost weightless.

When he presented it to Merlin, yesterday morning, the servant's eyes had twitched down to it, and where Arthur had thought he'd see gratitude, maybe even a hint of a smile, he saw only trepidation. Merlin had rasped a pained, "Thanks," then grabbed the scarf by one corner like it was a serpent poised to strike and shoved it into his pocket, out of sight. He hadn't worn it since.

"I don't understand," Arthur said to his wife over dinner, distress clear in his voice. "I replaced it."

"He's just not ready," Gwen soothed, though her brow was knit in worry.

"It's of a much finer material than his old one," Arthur insisted, as if he were trying to convince Gwen that Merlin should wear it.

"You have to be patient with him, Arthur. What happened to him was… traumatic. He has to come to terms with it in his own time."

Arthur scrubbed a hand over his face. "I just can't stand looking at his bruises."

Gwen squeezed his hand, her eyes sad and wise and more beautiful than anything that Arthur had seen. "I know it hurts," she said, "and I mean no disrespect, but… Arthur, this isn't about you. It's not about your discomfort, it's not about the pain you went through seeing Merlin be hurt like that."

Arthur opened his mouth, unsure of what he was going to say, not even knowing if he was going to argue or agree with her.

Gwen held up a hand. "I'm not saying that what you went through was unimportant. I can't even imagine watching…" She trailed off, shuddered. "But you can't expect Merlin to wear something that causes him so much pain and fear, just because it makes you uncomfortable."

Arthur knew she was right, and told her so. He would have to find a way to look past the bruises, for now.

Merlin was avoiding Arthur – there were no two ways about it. He got to work early, woke Arthur, and then ran off to do the rest of his chores. Finally, at the end of week two, Arthur cornered him in the armory.

"Merlin." Arthur's face was serious, his eyes uncharacteristically concerned.

"Sorry, Sire, I have work to do," Merlin said stiffly. His voice still sounded as if it were being painfully squeezed from him. He tried to leave, but Arthur caught his arm, pretended he didn't see Merlin flinch.

"For the love of… if I give you the day off, will you stay and talk to me?"

Merlin's eyes were wide and his scowl looked more pathetic than annoyed. "I suppose I have little choice in the matter."

Arthur's heart constricted. "Merlin, I—"

"Look, I'm sorry I haven't been wearing the neckerchief," Merlin blurted, avoiding Arthur's eyes. "I just… I know you we retrying to help, but… Hold on, I'll go get it right now," he flustered. His cheeks were red and his eyes bright.

"Merlin, stop."

Merlin stopped.

"I realize I haven't been fair to you," the king said slowly, carefully. "I haven't been patient. What happened was… wrong. Do you need to talk to me about it?"

The dam broke.

Arthur had never seen Merlin cry like this before. He'd seen tears in his friend's eyes on various occasions, but never had he witnessed the choking, uncontrollable, full-bodied sobs that were now wrenched from the depths of Merlin's soul. At first, Arthur stood, uncertain, terrified that he was going to say or do the wrong thing, but then he thought of Merlin, and tried to imagine what he would do for him if the king were in this situation. A strange calm descended over him, and he gently took Merlin by the arm and guided him to the nearest chair – Arthur's chair, the most comfortable one in the room, the one he never let anyone else sit in, not even Guinevere (she had her own, anyway).

He eased Merlin down, knelt beside him, and wrapped one arm around his servant's shoulders, and just held him while he released all of the pain and frustration and fear and trauma he'd been skirting around for weeks. Arthur felt the hot sting of a tear mark a course down his own face, and he didn't brush it away. He felt, like Merlin was feeling – felt the pain of the torture inflicted on them both, felt the violent sobs shaking Merlin's wiry frame, and finally, felt the tremors ease and stop all together, but he didn't withdraw his arm. He might have even squeezed a little bit tighter, as if assuring himself that his friend was still there, still breathing, despite how hard those bandits had tried to kill him.

Finally, Merlin shifted awkwardly, and Arthur became acutely aware of the fact that his arm was still around the servant's shoulders, and he withdrew with a start, backing away with haste.

Merlin turned to look at him, and his eyes were red-rimmed and puffy, the bruises on his neck still visible and angry, and tear tracks streaked down his face. Arthur watched him apprehensively, afraid that Merlin was going to say something emotional that Arthur wouldn't know how to respond to, or worse, openly acknowledge the unusual level of tenderness that had permeated that moment. Instead, Merlin quirked a watery half-smile and simply said, "Thank you."

Relieved, Arthur smiled back. "You're welcome. Feeling better, are we?"

Merlin gave a small, almost timid, nod. "A little bit, actually. I think."

Desperate for some return to normalcy, chest warm with the hope that Merlin really would be okay, someday, Arthur folded his arms across his chest. "Then get your scrawny arse out of my chair."

Merlin actually laughed then, and settled in deeper to the comfortable seat. "Sorry, sire," he said. "I think my scrawny arse is stuck here until further notice."

Arthur raised an eyebrow. Merlin blushed. "I… I don't think I can stand right now," he admitted, and Arthur noted with concern that Merlin's knees were indeed trembling. Merlin was trembling.

Arthur rolled his eyes like it was some great inconvenience. "Fine," he said. "Laze about like the useless servant you are. I'll fetch Gaius."

Merlin surged forward at this, almost fell flat on his face. "I don't need –" He broke off as Arthur shoved him back in the seat. "Gaius."

Arthur narrowed his eyes. "You were saying?"

Merlin had never looked so much like a sullen, scolded child.

***

When Arthur returned, Gaius not far behind him, he was shocked to find that Merlin was still where the king had left him. Even more surprising was the fact that Merlin held the silk neckerchief that Arthur had gifted him, almost reverently, gazing down at the fabric with a faraway look in his eyes.

"Merlin, where did you get that?" Arthur asked.

"My pocket."

"You've been carrying that around all week?"

Merlin didn't answer, but he didn't need to – it was obvious that he had been.

Arthur heard Gaius shuffle through the door behind him, but did not turn. He kept his eyes on Merlin, who continued to contemplate the scarf like he had never seen anything like it before. "Merlin, you don't have to wear that," Arthur said in a rush. "I just thought–"

"I know," Merlin interrupted, and that's when Arthur knew his servant was on the mend, because a Merlin who lacked all decorum and propriety was far more normal than one who was actually good at being a proper servant. "But, it's nice. And I was thinking, I've never owned anything so fine." He paused. "But I think I'll leave it at home when we go on hunts and patrols from now on." He gazed up at Arthur imploringly.

The king felt Merlin's eyes on his front and Gaius's on his back. He looked Merlin straight in the eyes and said, "You don't have to wear anything you don't want to, Merlin. If you never wear a ridiculous triangle scarf again, that's completely fine. Don't do it because you feel like you have to. You won't hurt my feelings."

Merlin grinned – a full, mischievous smile that Arthur hadn't seen in far too long. "When have I ever given you the impression that I care about protecting your feelings, Sire?"

Arthur tried to look stern, but ended up laughing out loud. "Fair point," he conceded.

He and Gaius watched with bated breath as Merlin tied the new neckerchief very loosely around his neck. A moment of tense silence, then –

"Does this make me look like a prat?"

"Merlin!"

Arthur knew that the ordeal wasn't over just because Merlin had put on the neckerchief. There would still be nightmares and anxiety and days where Merlin couldn't stand to have anything touch his neck. But this was progress. This was hope.

For this one moment, this was Arthur and Merlin, as they had always been, and all was well with the world.

For now, that was more than enough.

9 notes · View notes

xlady-saya · 4 years

Text

better than a night light [fic]

Relationships: andrew minyard/neil josten

Summary: Neil hasn’t had the chance to examine the feeling of fear in a long time. He’s all too familiar with it though; from the nightmares, to the memories of a cold basement floor, he knows the feeling like the back of his hand.

But this fear is new, loaded with ridiculousness and a complete lack of reason. It’s nothing more than pixels on a screen, far away theories that can’t hurt him like his past can.

Maybe that’s why he’s beginning to not mind it as much. It doesn’t hurt that Andrew is also there to hold him through it.

Tags: neil is a scaredy cat, fluff, fluff and humor, the monsters watch alien movies

Read on ao3!

The movie poster Nicky keeps shoving in Neil's face doesn't exactly do much in terms of persuasion.

Neil stares at the bold graphics, at the text of the title that drips as if it’s oozing blood. It's got an almost static quality to it, not original, but not trying too hard to be. It's an older movie, that much is clear, so not exactly Nicky's usual taste. There's nothing there to tell him about the plot, just a few shadows and a stark silhouette standing in the center. Neil stares at the poster on Nicky's phone, then at Nicky's expectant expression, and then back.

Surely there has to be some kind of clue to tell him what this is all supposed to mean, but he's not seeing it.

Nicky does his best to show Neil a few more posters from the same movie, some restyled and revamped for the modern era, but...

Nothing.

"For fuck's sake," Nicky huffs, putting his phone away. "It's a classic horror movie, Neil, and we're watching it tonight."

Oh. Neil's not sure why he had to know that.

It's never up to him to pick the movies for movie night, mostly because most do nothing for him or bore him to tears altogether. Watching them with Andrew is typically the only time he bothers to pay attention, and that's for the commentary about the stupid characters.

Nicky is the opposite.

He and Allison fight over the films every Friday night like it's a ritual, but on the rare occasions the upperclassman are busy, Nicky takes over and tries his best to drag Neil into it too. A seasoned movie buff, he's made it his mission to find a movie genre Neil actually likes. Neil's attempts to convince him otherwise have fallen on deaf ears.

After weeks of action spy movies and no luck, Nicky's obviously decided to up his game by switching to a new theme altogether.

Neil's not sure what this will do, though. The horror movies Nicky has picked in the past only served to annoy Neil or make him laugh with their horrible effects and impractical plot points. Nicky had still labeled that as progress.

Already, Neil is rolling his eyes. Neil has dealt with real horrors; ghosts and poltergeists aren’t what haunt him. He's only seen one or two slasher films with the team, but those were just nonsensical.

It's not something he enjoys thinking about, but it's hard to be afraid of being sliced open by some fictional asshole in a mask when his childhood already made him numb to the feeling of a blade.

As if sensing the underlying truth behind Neil's annoyance, Andrew makes his presence known with a loud thump of his soda can against the counter.

Nicky jumps, but Neil turns on instinct, a small smile on his face. They have new barstools, and he swears they're a little taller than the other ones. Andrew's legs swing, almost carefree in nature, and Neil averts his eyes at the glare he receives for staring.

"I said no horror movies," Andrew says finally, flicking another page of his novel over. It's for a class, Neil notes, and beams a little brighter. Part of their pact; if Neil has to do better in school, Andrew has to start trying to, too.

With some encouragement...it wasn't a hard compromise to make.

"Technically, you said no slasher movies," Nicky says, smirking at the loophole. Andrew stares, thoroughly unamused, and Neil blinks between them. He hadn't known about that. He glances back over to find Andrew already looking at him, resignation clear on his face. It's a common expression from the beginning of their this—less rare now, but just as endearing in Neil's mind.

It's Andrew's 'you caught me caring about you, and I hate that because it's not hard' look.

Neil hops up to sit on the counter, and Andrew's gaze flicks down to his knee as if debating resting his chin on top of it.

"You don't need to baby me, those movies don't affect me," Neil says with a fond smile. It's the truth; he's not sure why, but the masked villains and their carving knives just seem tacky to him at best. He understands Andrew's reasoning though, and appreciates it more than he can say.

Andrew would never think of him as weak, and Neil can handle most things no matter how painfully they might stir up old memories. Regardless, Andrew will spare him if he can.

The look of acknowledgement passes between them, and Andrew nods.

Then: "Even still, they're bad," Andrew says, aiming the statement at Nicky. "I refuse to suffer through them."

Aaron, who up until this point has been a silent bystander on the couch, grunts an affirmative. Kevin's got his headphones in, not even listening.

"Killjoys," Nicky mutters, clutching his phone tight to his chest. He points an accusatory finger right at Andrew, and keeps it there in challenge. "You might like it too, if you would just give it a chance!"

Andrew, highly unconvinced, raises a brow at Neil. The blond and Nicky are a lot better at having actual conversations without Neil now, to the point where Neil wouldn't even call Nicky afraid of Andrew anymore. Still...looks like this is not a case Andrew has the energy to make.

Neil smiles, all too smug.

"I thought you said horror movies were overrated?" he asks Nicky, grin just the right amount of shit-eating. "And by overrated, you meant you're super scared of them and won't be able to sleep for days."

"First of all, Neil, fuck you," Nicky says without hesitation. Aaron snorts in the background. Unwilling to be defeated, Nicky holds up his hand, counting off the reasons. "Second of all, this one is different! It's an alien movie, and those don't scare me as much. I mean, they're super impractical!"

That's what's super impractical?

Neil rolls his eyes. Their whole lives are impractical. Ha.

But ah, Neil realizes. Maybe that's the reason for the weird poster silhouette. Aliens. He'd almost prefer a slasher film. He crosses his arms, blowing his overgrown bangs out of his eyes. "Yeah, I'm sure Jackson with his goalie mask is just as realistic."

The room goes silent, and Neil isn't too prideful when it comes to pop culture. It's clear he fucked that up. Nicky blinks at him, and even Aaron is confused enough to turn around and lean over the side of the couch.

Neil blinks back, combing his brain for the revision. Nothing.

Andrew sighs below him, long and suffering, and this time he really does put his chin on Neil's knee. He glares a hole into Neil's abdomen, but Neil suspects it's mostly self directed.

"I think he means Jason," Andrew says, closing his eyes to ground himself. Neil's always been quite impressed with his self-control. "He's just trying to provoke me."

Oh, yeah. That prick.

A small chorus of realization goes through the room as Neil smirks down at his boyfriend.

Nicky squints. "Huh? Provoke you how?"

"Don't ask about their weird flirting," Aaron interrupts, making a slicing motion over his throat. Then, after a beat, he shoots a glare at his brother, who actually meets it for once. "Though for the record, you deserve to have a thing for morons."

Hey.

"That time, I really thought his name was Jackson," Neil defends, not caring that he just exposed how sometimes he will say the wrong shit on purpose just to get Andrew...in a mood. Aaron gags, and Neil is quite done with the conversation.

He squeezes Andrew's earlobe because, well...it's right there.

Nicky throws his hands up. "Oh my god, who cares! Neil, the point is that yes, a serial killer terrorizing a summer camp? Unlikely. But if someone were inclined, they could. And at minimum, slasher movies are scary because I could actually be stabbed on any given day."

"The chances of you running into a slasher are still pretty low," Neil tries, and Nicky gives him one of those looks like he's missed the point entirely.

"I'm talking about Andrew."

Ah.

"That's fair," Andrew says, eyes closing once more as Neil kneads his ear gently.

Done with the lot of them, Nicky shows Neil the button to rent the movie on his account, and rebelliously presses it. As if that somehow traps Neil in this apartment. Like he can't just leave.

The sad thing is that he won't.

Even without the upperclassman to join them tonight, this is his family—despite all their shitty taste.

"Your point?" Neil asks, though he's fully resigned at this point.

"So, alien movies are way cooler than anything else. Plus, the effects in this one are practical," Nicky says, and Neil tilts his head. Instead of bewildered, Nicky's excitement only grows. "You know, none of that cheap computer crap. You'll see, you'll love it."

Nicky squeals lightly as he goes to make snacks, dropping a few dishes in the process. It's a chorus of curses and clanging that Neil is all too used to, and Andrew barely flinches from it. It's hard to mind anything with Andrew's head in his lap and Neil's hands moving into his hair.

Neil stares over at the television, and sees his own annoyed expression staring back from the void.

Love it, will he?

Yeah, whatever you say.

They're about thirty minutes into the movie when Neil realizes there's a problem.

Nicky, for effect, has turned out all the lights, and the television illuminates the whole room despite its dark ambience. Neil's perfectly prepared to not pay attention, especially when the movie starts off slow and without any of the promised aliens. Nicky scolds him for his impatience, and things gradually start to get more suspicious between the characters on screen.

Neil's not bored out of his mind, but he's yet to see the full appeal. Because it's his spot, he curls up into Andrew’s side, sharing the bag of plain gummy worms between them since Neil hates the sour ones. Neil's more fixated on that at first; sometimes if they grab the same one on accident, they'll start the contest of pulling the poor worm and stretching the gelatin until it snaps. So far, Neil has won the longest piece two out of three times.

Then, in a shocking twist, the alien shows up.

Nicky was right about the practical effects. It's a grotesque creature, animatronic and padded with a fleshy substance that looks like bile. Its limbs are coated in it, sticky and disproportionate to its thin, skeletal body. Neil can see every disgusting ridge, and grimaces at the bubbles of flesh and pus that the effects team coated it with. After a while, he stops viewing it as a product of humans, as a robot. He starts seeing it as just the creature, in all its vileness. Random limbs and appendages shoot out from it, impaling some of the unlucky side characters, and the squelching sounds make Neil want to vomit.

Neil's throat begins to feel tight, and he's not sure why.

Throughout the next fifteen minutes, the creature starts its ruthless hunt after the team of scientists which make up the main cast. Only when it disappears does the audience realize the creature can shapeshift—that it's among them, somewhere on the base.

At first, Neil thinks he might have to go to the hospital. His pulse is fast, and he's sweating a little. It's weird, and he finds himself trying to calm down his own breathing. His muscles aren't usually this tense, and there's a nausea-inducing lump in his stomach, swimming around like the goop on screen. Maybe he's sick, maybe he ate some undercooked meat for dinner. That has to be it. He tries his best to stretch out, but his ankle hits Kevin's fancy metal flask, and Neil nearly jumps out of his skin from the cold when it coincides with a character being ripped in half on screen.

"Damn, that was pretty cool," Aaron concedes from his beanbag, watching the characters rush to safety from the gore they just witnessed. Even Kevin is invested, though he's still occasionally checking Exy stats on his phone. The creature is gone again all too soon, blending in, and the scientists begin to arm themselves against one another. Nicky looks over at Aaron gleefully, triumphant for his good choice.

At this point, Neil hates to admit he's fully invested. The characters in the movie have started to suspect one another, and the focus has shifted from the gore and the alien’s origin over to pure paranoia. It does a remarkably good job of capturing that feeling—one Neil knows all too well. Neil begins to suspect some of the characters too, even the main protagonist. The theories run through his head, but the film leaves everything as vague as can be.

There's a blanket of dread over him he's never felt before, because it's not real. There's no imminent danger to his person or his family, but he wonders what he'd be feeling if he were in this situation. The idea of imposters, walking around and having no way of telling them apart from your friends, from a human...

It takes Neil awhile, perhaps a little too long given his acquaintance with the emotion, to understand the tension in his body is fear.

He's afraid.

And isn't fear a strange thing?

He tries to remember fear, and it's not hard. It's always cold, piercing. It narrows down the world so that the fear is all that exists, along with the impending doom of the consequences that come with it. For him, fear has always eventually had a result. His fear was always well-founded. But this is nothing like that fear. Real, genuine, valid fear. This is not being threatened by his mom's scowl from across the room, or being on the basement floor, seconds from death. This is a queasy, unrealistic fear. One he can't get rid of, as much as he knows it shouldn't exist. There's nothing on the horizon, nothing coming to get them.

It's a lot of what-ifs and how-comes.

Neil hates it.

He can't look away as the characters all perish, eaten alive in part by the alien, but mostly by their own suspicion. In the end, the discord between them kills them all, and the ending hints heavily at the creature's survival and spread into the outside world.

Maybe here.

Neil scoffs at his own ridiculousness, rolling his eyes. That would never happen. He knows that, it's just—

"So?" Nicky says right in his face, and Neil jumps. Luckily, no one notices, and Andrew has already moved to switch the television off. Good. He surely would've felt the jump of Neil's body.

"So?" Neil parrots, unable to keep up. He keeps looking out the dorm windows, watching the darkness for any sign of life beyond it.

"Did you like it, Neil?" Kevin asks, turning around from his perch on the floor. He's also been weirdly committed to finding things for them to enjoy outside of Exy. Neil has a feeling that's mostly Thea's and therapy's doing, an attempt to get them some distance from the harsh Raven routines of old.

Kevin's attempt at getting them into trivia had been a disaster, and he'd abandoned it quickly.

Neil swallows the lump in his throat, eyes tracking Andrew to keep himself grounded. Aliens or no aliens, the sight of Andrew is a relaxant that's fifty times stronger.

Still, all he manages is a small: "It was okay."

It's a compliment coming from him, since his standard response is to shrug whenever any credits roll, and Nicky heads off to shower for bed with an extra lightness in his step.

Neil is not so fortunate.

An hour later, they're all turning in. Kevin has already passed out while Nicky takes his time in the bathroom with his twenty minute skincare routine. Neil had done everything in his power to not be alone once the lights began to go out. He's lucky his proximity to Andrew isn't unusual, but he keeps a few steps of distance just to throw off any suspicion the blond might have about why his boyfriend’s clinginess is off the charts.

The night sky is still pitch black through the windows, and any passing noise has Neil turning around and checking on his family critically. No, no—if Kevin were a creature, he wouldn't be snoring so loud.

Right?

He feels like a child, and does his best to go about his business without reading into everything so much. Even still, he hops onto the bed so he doesn't have to stand in front of the bottom of the bunk for too long. Something could grab his feet.

Andrew, per routine, wraps his arm around Neil's midsection to pull him closer, not yet aware of what's happening. Neil usually delights in this each time it happens, though he's certainly used to it by now. The path to sharing a bed had been a cautious one, and spooning even more so, but now he can't imagine sleeping without being cocooned like this.

Tonight, however, there's a problem.

Neil stiffens when Andrew moves to scoot him closer, a stark contrast to how he usually relaxes all his muscles. It's kinda fun when Andrew drags him. Andrew pauses, regarding Neil curiously, and Neil's dry throat seems to close up even more. The dread in his veins obviously isn't apparent, but it feels that way. Paling internally, Neil says, "I want a glass of water."

He really wants a glass of water. Fuck.

But is it worth it? Is he willing to die for a glass of water? He can make it until morning. If he were smart, he would've thought about this when everyone was still in the living room and he had access to knives to defend himself.

Andrew, calm as ever, concedes with a short nod. He removes his hand and waits for Neil to get up, and that's when Neil can't hide it anymore.

See, he doesn't move. Neil just lies there, staring up at the ceiling, and feels Andrew's eyes grow more and more critical with each passing second. Neil is torn. Does he get up despite his fear to preserve his dignity? Andrew of all people deserves to know when Neil has none to spare. Neil doesn't hide anything from Andrew, no matter how ridiculous.

The truth is, he'd love nothing more than to stay here on this bed with Andrew, where it's at least kind of safe. But, if he thinks more critically, he'll never get over this fear if he doesn't venture out into the dark common area to get his goddamn water.

Also, he's thirsty.

What to do, what to do.

At this point Neil begins to squirm, his gaze flicking over to the open bedroom door. It's black on the other side, inviting him and his imagination to wreak havoc.

Humans can survive a few days without water.

The whole time, Andrew doesn't stop staring at him, and Neil winces when he feels a gentle tap against his collarbone.

He's hesitated too long to keep the secret now. Better get it over with.

"Neil."

"Uh. Y-yes?"

"Look at me," Andrew says, and Neil can't disobey a request like that. Andrew's sleepy voice is gravely and soothing, like enticing smoke from a cigarette, and Neil follows it with all his senses. He turns over, then tenses up. Now his back is to the door. Can't have that.

He goes back to lying flat, and turns his head to send Andrew a desperate look.

It's stupid, it's pathetic. But...

"It's dark." That’s all he says.

Andrew's brows knit together, searching for the truth under that statement. "It's one in the morning."

Oh, but I'm the smart mouth.

Neil glares, and jumps when Nicky drops something in the bathroom. Neil waits for a sign of movement, and breathes a sigh of relief when Nicky's routine resumes.

Andrew sends him another look, no doubt already piecing it all together, and Neil huffs to himself.

"Asshole," he says, and picks at the thread of their blanket with his finger. He tries not to think of the aliens splitting open. Quietly, he admits: "The creature in the movie could see better in the dark."

It should be helpful to say it aloud, but it's not. It should convince Neil he's being truly unreasonable, that the odds of something otherworldly coming to target him are slim. He should be more worried about real killers coming for him on any given day.

But here he is, still afraid.

Andrew, in his own Andrew way, actually looks surprised. Something swims across his features that Neil has seen before, but can't pinpoint in the moment due to his own shame. He groans, turning away.

"Shut up, I know, forget it, I'm—"

A hand comes out to grab his chin, and Andrew turns Neil's face back towards him in one firm motion. Okay, now Neil definitely knows there's something in that look, and it renders him speechless for a moment.

"You're afraid." He swears he sees the corner of Andrew's mouth twitch, and he's so fixated on it that the truth comes easily.

"Yes."

"Of the...aliens. From the movie?"

Ah, but when put that way...

Neil groans again, pouting slightly. It's hard for Andrew to ruin anything for Neil, but it's difficult to stare fondly at one's boyfriend when he's trying to wring the embarrassing truth out of you. "Yes! I don't know why, okay?"

Andrew just nods, not judging. Not yet. Taking that into account, he taps Neil's chin a few times, maybe to the beat of invisible cogs moving in his head. Then he pauses, and gives Neil's earlobe a tug. Because...it's there. "Nicky said aliens are impractical. They aren't real. You know this, I assume."

Neil glares, but doesn't refute the statement. He's familiar with Andrew's process of retracing their steps, hypothetically. Trying to understand where the fear came from, how to best help Neil push it aside.

"Neil, confirm these things for me," Andrew says, and Neil nods, counting the freckles that dance over Andrew's nose. "You have dealt with members of a deadly mafia family."

Neil, because he's a shit, takes time to think about it. It's worth it when Andrew huffs.

Neil nods. "That is true."

"You are arguably more capable than me when it comes to killing someone," Andrew points out, and Neil does his best to ignore the spark of heat in Andrew's voice from that knowledge. "In fact, you've probably killed many people without remorse."

Hm. Okay.

"Mhm." Neil hums, and while he sees where this is going...

"You could potentially be Jackson, minus the hockey mask," Andrew finishes, and Neil is only somewhat insulted. What does he want with a summer camp?

Feigning stupidity this time, Neil squints. "Wasn't he immortal?"

"Neil."

Neil's laughter dissolves into a desperate whine, and he throws his hands behind him, hitting the headboard. Dammit. "Just—I know it makes no sense," he huffs. He scrambles up to a sitting position, an explanation on the tip of his tongue, and Andrew follows him calmly. "I know they're not real but...I think that's the problem. It's an unknown. I'm familiar with killers, with knives on my skin."

Neil almost feels guilty when he mentions it; Andrew accepts all his scars and experiences, but it doesn't mean he likes that they happened. They can't change the past, but the idea of either of them being hurt never fails to put a little pit of anger in their guts. He sees it bloom in Andrew's right then, and Neil smiles gently to quell it. It's not about that right now.

"But this is so removed from any of that," Neil explains, laughing at himself. It's sort of amusing if he thinks about it—that he’s made it to the point where he has the luxury of being afraid of such things, but he still doesn't feel relief. "I know it should be stupid and ridiculous. But that's probably why it bothers me. I mean, okay, what do we really know about aliens anyways? Nothing! No road map, no weapons. We're completely unprepared."

And...his explanation goes off the rails just like that.

Neil thinks he has a good point though. Like...who is really to say aliens don't exist? And if they do, they're all pretty much fucked. Who wouldn't be afraid?

Andrew only stares at him.

At the expression of disbelief, Neil whines and does his best to backtrack, but Andrew is having no more of it. Andrew just lays back down, hands covering his face.

It's a novel reaction, considering this is Andrew. He looks so beside himself, unable to process whatever is going on in his head, but not in the bad, overwhelmed way he might be used to. Neil leans over him, and artfully pokes Andrew between the eyebrows.

"Andrew?"

His boyfriend sighs. "I don't ever know what to do with you," he concedes, removing his hands so Neil can see his pissy expression. "Alien movies. It's goddamn alien movies."

Neil's not sure what to make of that, but even in the dimness of their room he can see the reluctant fondness in Andrew's face, poorly concealed behind a facade of neutral indifference. That, and the tips of his ears look a little red.

Neil's confused as hell before he realizes what it must be. He perks up, fear momentarily put on pause. "Oh...oh, you like this," he observes, not smug, just factual. Andrew glares. "You think it's—uh..."

Not hot, at least Neil doesn't think so. But—

"The word you're probably looking for is cute." Andrew grimaces when he says it, like it's a crime for the word to come out of his mouth. If Neil's being honest, he's surprised too. Not that Andrew thinks it, but that he actually said it. Hm. That's new. Neil likes it. He always insisted to Andrew that he didn't have to try harder at verbal affection just for Neil's sake, not if he didn't want to.

Clearly, part of him does.

Andrew glares at Neil's small smile, pushing his face away. "And you're wrong, so don't read into it."

Neil ignores that advice completely. "Oh, okay. So you think it's cute," he repeats, and mulls that over in his head.

"I just said—"

"Wait, why?" Neil asks, suddenly offended. Here he is trying to tell Andrew his alien attack plan, and the blond thinks the severity of the situation is cute. "Does my terror mean nothing to you?"

"Not in this case," Andrew admits, and this time there's clearly a small smile threatening to break the mask. Neil tries (pettily and unsuccessfully) to not let it affect him. "Now quit it, and go get your water."

Shit.

The fucking water.

The source of his woes comes back as a painful reminder in the form of his parched throat, scratchier now from all the discussion.

Noticing Neil's stricken face, Andrew wordlessly gets up with him, pulling him along to the edge of the bedroom so Neil can't talk himself out of it. Flicking on the light for the living area, Andrew pushes Neil out in front of him, a silent nudge to hurry up.

The room definitely looks a lot less sinister like this, but Neil's brain is reluctant to let him relax. He walks quickly and stiffly into the kitchen, turning back halfway to make sure that yes, Andrew is watching him.

"I'm here," the blond says, despite the roll of his eyes.

Neil practically runs to get his water, moving back to Andrew faster than the speed of light. As absurd as Andrew finds it, he dutifully waits for Neil to step fully back into the light of the bedroom before turning off the living room light again, and offers to take Neil's glass back when he finishes. Unwilling to lose Andrew by making him go alone, Neil takes his turn watching from the door.

Andrew looks back—not out of fear, but just to see the way Neil tracks his every move, wary of the surroundings. Something soft escapes Andrew's mouth, a vulnerable sound Neil swallows when he gets back into their bed.

He still can't fall asleep, but at least Andrew holds him a little tighter that night, a silent reminder that Neil's not alone in the darkness.

Neil's entire being burns with embarrassment, and he can't wait for a few days to pass so his brain will forget the movie entirely.

At least then the fear in his veins will be but a lingering memory, teasing fuel for Andrew at most.

Except, per routine, Andrew is a giant bastard.

"We're watching this tonight," he says a week later, throwing a library DVD into Nicky's lap.

Neil doesn't think much of it as he finishes the last of his math problems at his desk, kicking his legs happily since this means he'll be done with homework and his kissing ban will be lifted.

Nicky's voice has all his expectations shriveling up and exploding like alien guts. "Aliens again?"

Neil's head snaps up to meet Andrew's gaze across the room, betrayal lining his face. The DVD cover Nicky is looking at is old school again, another classic Neil assumes. It's less detailed than the first one, with nothing but a green, glowing egg on the front.

Hell no, Neil thinks, and glances back at Andrew with a desperate look in his eyes. Maybe it's a joke.

But Andrew's sense of humor is cruel.

"It wasn't awful," Andrew answers Nicky while looking right at Neil. There's nothing amused or challenging in his features, but Neil still senses it. Andrew has weighed Neil's fear, has no doubt picked it apart and tried to decide whether or not that fear should be quelled, or if it's fair game to prod.

The conclusion is clear.

"Awesome!" Nicky shouts, unaware of the turmoil between the two of them. "Finally, we found something you don't tune out completely."

"I'll make the snacks," Aaron says, and Kevin actually seems okay with the selection. He shoots them both a weird look—which, given the intensity of Neil's stare, is appropriate. However, living with them has given Kevin enough insight to know when and when not to intervene. He walks past them, as he should.

When they're actually getting settled in to watch the damn film, Neil has switched tactics. He's refusing to meet Andrew's gaze, foot tapping impatiently against their stained carpet. As peeved as he is, the fear is starting to outweigh it. What if this movie is worse? Is he ready for another night wondering if aliens are going to come absorb him into some hybrid monster?

What the fuck does the egg mean? Aliens lay eggs?!

Neil refuses to sit by Andrew at first, and Andrew's legs are spread in such a way that his lap is wide open and inviting.

It's difficult to resist.

Eventually, Andrew sighs, and slouches into the couch a little more, leaving a perfect Neil-sized spot next to him.

"You're going to sit over there by yourself?" Andrew asks. With the rest of the group out of earshot, he adds lowly: "Aliens pick off the stragglers first."

Neil's glare would melt flesh from bone if it wasn’t directed at Andrew. The blond is unaffected by Neil's threats, though there's definitely power behind them. Just...never towards him.

An unfortunate fact, but one Neil would never betray.

Sulking, he climbs up onto the couch and fits himself snuggly into Andrew's side, head on his chest. Completing the dance, Andrew manhandles Neil to rest more comfortably against him, and Neil ignores the smugness radiating off the blond.

When Aaron walks in, he regards them suspiciously. Neil hates him for smiling that knowing, shit eating little grin once the realization hits him.

Fuck Aaron. Neil knows he's afraid of possession movies. He better be ready.

"This one is especially gross," Aaron says, offhand, but aimed at Neil entirely. "I've seen it."

Neil stares into the television again, done with all of them, and hopes his brain is over it. He hopes this movie is as boring as it can be. "Let's get this shit over with."

And they do. But no, the movie is not boring.

This film is arguably worse than the one they watched last weekend. The aliens are somehow grosser, with tar-like skin and oozing orifices. Even worse, they're more parasitic than the other aliens, and extremely hard for these idiot characters to kill. Neil sees one of the alien babies jump down someone's throat and has to look away.

He supposes it's too late to ask how he got here, to wonder why he can't get over it and understand none of it is real.

But then again, what does he know about the universe?

Neil's glad everyone else is too into the film to notice him burying himself further into Andrew's chest, eyes glued to the screen reluctantly. That's the problem with fear—it takes hold of him. He's not one of those people who can look away or close their eyes, so he just wrings Andrew's shirt between his hands into a wrinkly mess.

At a certain point, the alien from earlier bursts through the character's chest and makes Neil jump away from Andrew's, but the blond grabs Neil's head gently in anticipation of this (which means he's seen this shit already, the asshole) and guides it to rest over his heart. It should make it worse, the rhythmic beating, pumping in time with the chest burster's onslaught. Instead, it's grounding, as it always is, and he sighs.

He wonders if this was Andrew's plan all along, but would that make sense? Having to comfort a scared Neil can't be anything but annoying.

Later, when he's having a mug of hot chocolate with Andrew and Aaron before bed, and steadily getting grumpier with the thought of the sleepless night to come, he says as much.

Aaron just looks at him, as if he can't believe Neil exists. "You really are a moron."

And with that, he goes back to his own dorm.

Neil tries to get clarification, but Andrew only takes the mug from his hands. He avoids Neil's questioning gaze and laces their fingers together, pulling Neil into the room before the lights go out.

It's hard to look serious when he's lying on top of Andrew's chest, glare peaking out, but he tries.

It's weekend three of Andrew's onslaught of alien movie sequels, and luckily he's promised to back off from now on.

Still. Neil's gonna pout all he wants.

A sound from outside makes him jump, but it's just an extra hard downpour knocking against the windows. If Neil closes his eyes, he almost sees the alien claws tapping on the glass, trying to get in.

"Poor, frightened little bunny," Andrew states without any inflection or tone, but Neil can sense the teasing underneath.

"Fuck you," he says, but it's dampened by the way he leans over to close the window blinds.

It helps. A little.

"And risk the alien contamination?" Andrew adds, tugging on Neil's bangs for his attention. Like he has to; he somehow always has it, even when Neil is less than pleased. "Tell me, just what do you think is going to happen? Nothing's going to burst out of you just from watching that movie."

Neil feels his stomach flip flop from the thought of it, his heart taking the tower of terror through his body. He makes a disgruntled noise in the back of his throat, and Andrew pulls him up by the scruff of his neck to get a better look at him.

"I still feel queasy," Neil says, a poor attempt at revenge. Andrew doesn't move away, isn't even remotely grossed out.

The blond just sighs, and rolls Neil over to the other side of the bed in a display of vulnerability. Instead of being pressed to the wall, Andrew's back is open to their room, to the world. Neil balks for a moment before he gets himself under control. They've done this a few times, so he closes his jaw. He knows he should be happy for these moments, not surprised by them. Because he knows they're not small. It's Andrew telling him something, it's Andrew giving. And that's nothing new.

Still, Andrew never has his back to the door, and it probably won't last long. Eventually they'll go back to their normal positions, but for now Andrew shields Neil from the world.

It's a silent emphasis, a promise.

Despite the dimness and the new tension in his shoulders, Andrew's gaze is like a spark to the gasoline pooling in Neil's body. "Neil, you're safe."

Yes. Deep down, that's the biggest truth of them all.

Neil sighs, and gently rolls them back over. It's his own affirmative, his own way of protecting Andrew—whether it be from real threats, or fictional ones. He slides over Andrew until he's on the edge of the bed, and is happy when the bits of tension bleed back out of Andrew. Much better.

"I know that." Neil curls up, and though his back is to the door, he doesn't turn away. It's another silent response. He's afraid, but he knows if an alien were to suddenly bust through the door...

Well, Andrew would let him know. "But I'm still...mph," he grunts, glaring at the blinds above Andrew, and this time, the edges of the blond's lips lift easily. Just for Neil to see.

"Scared?"

Neil rolls his eyes for the billionth time, mostly at himself. "Yes, Andrew, the stupid alien movies scare me. I'm glad you're enjoying it so much."

He won't lie; he expects a silent response, maybe the old 'I don't enjoy anything' just to make him laugh, because they both know it's not true.

Instead, Andrew grabs his wrist, tracing the veins there with his thumb.

"You're right," he admits, slow, as if he's considering taking it back. Neil waits with bated breath, and Andrew must ultimately decide that it's impossible to. "I am."

The blatant admission catches him off guard, and well...Andrew can be pretty cute too, when he avoids Neil's gaze like this. The blond fixates on where they're connected, tracing the scars farther up Neil's arm.

Neil hums. "Because you're a cruel otherworldly imposter, or because you know I secretly have a thing for when I amuse you?"

The master plan, all along.

At Neil's cheeky grin, Andrew rolls onto his back, questioning his existence. He slides Neil's hand over his chest, draping it across him. "You're a nuisance," he mutters, and Neil's grin softens at the edges. He still doesn't understand it all, but when Andrew's being so open like this he can't help but dive in. He slides his hand lower, resting it over Andrew's heart.

"Your heart's beating fast," he says quietly, nearly a whisper. "Could be a chest burster."

"Mourn me," Andrew responds, and Neil smothers his laugh in his pillow. It's got that fresh lavender scent, and reminds him that there's no way he's going to do laundry by himself this week. That room is dark.

For whatever reason, that makes him laugh more. He hears Andrew move closer, hears the stuttering breath of words kept back, and peeks an eye out. Andrew tends to look kind of constipated when he's trying to say something especially revealing, and Neil has long since stopped telling him he doesn't have to.

Because...Andrew told him it wasn't necessary.

'If I want to say something, I'll say it.'

Neil smiles; he remembers thinking it was such an Andrew answer. So now he waits patiently, letting his giggles fade into staggered huffs.

Moments pass, and then, quietly: "I like it," Andrew says, voice barely above a whisper. It hasn't lost its firmness, its inability to be argued with. "I like that you're scared of something that actually can't ever hurt you."

Neil's smile falls, but he's not upset, not in the slightest.

Andrew's statement from weeks ago feels wrong now. It's Neil that doesn't know what to do with him sometimes.

There's plenty of things Neil is scared of—things that have actually hurt him, ruined and scarred him. Those fears are more deeply ingrained and clawing, impossible to erase completely with a few nights of sleep. He doesn't have to wonder if they're real, how they'd hurt him or how painful it would be.

He knows. He can feel the ghost of a blade often, the searing scent of burning flesh whenever he's near a bonfire or when he touches his scars. He sometimes still wakes up from nightmares of being held down, except this time he's not able to get back up. He's never able to run again.

And as much as Andrew would like to, he can't go and reach into the past to stop those things from happening. The realities are so much more frightening, and that terror has no remedy. Andrew knows that better than anyone.

So maybe it's nice, maybe it's just a little rewarding, to see Neil so scared of fictional aliens and monsters instead. Those are the things that can't hurt him, that can't reach him. Perhaps it's better that they occupy his mind instead so that the other demons do not.

And that's the consideration that has Neil so at a loss; he can't do much more than echo Andrew's name in his head over and over, and scoot closer to him until he's all he can make sense of.

It's quiet, aside from the rain, but now it actually sounds like itself, calm and cleansing.

"Well, yeah," Neil whispers into Andrew's chest, then sits up. He wants to say it more firmly, with no room for doubt. This way even if Andrew doesn't believe him...he knows how Neil feels. "You protected me from all that other stuff, so those fears...they're easier now."

He's never put it into words before, but it's the truth. He'll always have nightmares about knives and guns, about fires and cold, blue eyes. But he knows any new threats that come crawling back from the mafia underworld won't have just him to deal with. He'll have Andrew by his side, fighting.

So he's not as afraid of that.

Andrew's grip around him tightens, a promise that never has to be renewed. Neil knows it's forever in place.

On the other hand...

Neil nudges Andrew sheepishly, tapping his finger right between Andrew's pecs. "I just don't know if you stand a chance against an alien hivemind," Neil admits. Though to be fair, no one does. They're all fucked.

Andrew, after a beat of silence, concedes. "For once, I think you're right."

Neil nearly feels better from that, light and warm, but then Nicky comes back into the room and turns off the lights abruptly, plunging them into darkness.

And suddenly, nothing is okay.

He scoots as far away from the edge as possible, practically pinning Andrew to the wall, but the blond takes everything with a sigh.

He deserves it anyways.

Neil still jumps from any little sound the next few nights, and yes, Andrew has to walk him to the laundry room, but that's alright. The teasing he eventually gets from the rest of the Foxes is more than worth it if he gets to make Andrew hold him extra tight.

The fear eventually fades, diluted, but if he pretends to cling to it a bit longer…no one has to know.

If Andrew catches onto Neil's dramatic, fake flinches and continued unwillingness to go anywhere by himself, well...

He certainly doesn't point it out.

#aftg #all for the game #andreil #andrew minyard #neil josten

38 notes · View notes

popculturebuffet · 3 years

Text

Tom and Jerry 2021 Review: It’s Almost Adequate!

Hello you happy people, and welcome to a surprise review! While this was on my schedule, I moved it out to make room for my new Patreon Sponsored review. Yes at the 5 dollar tier you too can get a review a month.. but enough shilling. Point is I had some thoughts on the film, and felt I could squeeze a review of it into the schedule since my review for yesterday, the 90′s Tom and Jerry movie, got canceled as I both had to finish up my tex avery birthday review and hadn’t noticed it wasn’t on HBO Max like I thought. I could’ve sworn it was once but not anymore. Gee it’s almost like they removed their overtly awful Tom and Jerry movie from the service so people woudln’t be reminded of it when they watched the mediocre new one. Or it was never on there because HBO wants to bury that mistake in a hole. You make the call.

Point is I had some room in my schedule, so if I can’t cover the 1990 movie this weekend, though I FULLY intend to still do that at some point as it still fascinates me, might as well cover the one everyone’s actually watching. So join me under the cut with spoilers to go into why this film is .. ehhhh. under the cut

Tom and Jerry follows, as you’d expect, our working boys up to their ass in shit, what is this buisness. In this case Tom literally rides in on a rail with his keyboard wanting to be a big musician one day, while Jerry is shopping around for a home but can’t find any in his bracket. The two end up fighting, as you’d expect, when Tom performs as a blind cat in a park, a great gag, and Jerry first steals his customers by dancing to his music, but then when Tom tries to stop him, not only exposes his scam, but gets Tom’s beloved Keyboard broken.

In the process of Tom trying to get Jerry back for runing his day, Tom ruins the day of Kayla, a cynical young lady played by Chole Grace Moretz who like Robin in the last theatrical film, is a blonde girl who takes up way more screen time than our heroes for some reason. Tom accidently destroys the clothes she was sent to deliver, and she gets fired from her Task Rabbit esque job... despite the fact that TaskRabbit is app based, entirely built around how you do jobs for hire as needed, and that at most she’d get a bad review and that the app dosen’t actually hire people. I know this both because i’ve seen the apps and parodies of it show up on tv shows I watch, most recently Close Enough, and because I took the 2 minutes it took to google it , read some of the Wikipedia article and do the bare minimum that me, a paid only by commissions and patreons reviewer, did to prove a point, and that the writers of this film, who likely got paid at least 10000 for a rewrite, and more for whoever wrote the treatment, which is about 30,000 at lowest as told to me by this article on what screenwriters get paid I looked up solely to prove a point. So they got paid tens of thousands of dollars, probably more than standard... to not spend 5 minutes looking up what task rabbit is, becuase they wanted to give her a “hip” job instead of just having her work for a dry cleaner. Then again they got thousands upon thousands to half ass it and i’m getting paid nothing to go on a rant about how they half assed it, so maybe i’m the dumbass, I dunno, but at least I take pride in my work. And i’ve had trouble spellchecking at times so take that as you will.

But so far the film is not bad: the slapstick is blended really well, the action is pitch perfect and our heroes are given good motivations: Kayla’s to find a job, Tom to play piano professionally and Jerry to find a proper home. You ready for some letdown?!

All three of our heroes converge at the Royal Gate Hotel, a prestigious hotel that’s been host to popes, dignitaries and Drake. Jerry sneaks inside, and soon finds himself at home and making himself home, Tom TRIES to and ends up getting on the wrong side of Butch, the black cat from the shorts played in this film by reggaton performer Nicky Jam. Why they choose him over a comedian or anyone who could actually act, especially since Butch dosen’t have a musical number or anything, is a riddle for the ages. My best guest, as it always is, is that Tim Story owes him a Wookie-Style life debt. Not only that but even more bafflingly Butch’s gang, who to the films credit like him are all his gang of cats from the classic shorts, are played by Kevin Hart’s Improve Troop, The Plastic Cup Boyz. I got a preview for what passing a kidney stone’s going to feel like just typing that name. I thought I had no explanation for this, not even a wookie life debt can explain how Kevin Hart’s posse, because he has one for some reason but at least unlike Adam Sandler he’s helping his smaller named friends get big instead of just promoting guys who really shouldn’t have a career or dragging poor guys like Shaq or Terry Crews into your bullcrap because they like you., can explain how this happened. But I forgot I looked up Tim Story’s filmography when I first found out he was director here, more on him later, and found out he directed both Ride Along films, both think like a man films, and one of Kevin Hart’s specials, so the two presumably are friends or at least have a solid working relationship, and given how successful the first Ride Along was for both men, I doubt Tim would turn down a favor from him and vice versa.

And while I find the Plastic Cup Boyz inclusion in this film bizzare and wish it was fellow comedy troupe and starkid adjacent wonderkinds the Tin Can Bros so I could get Joey Richter voicing an animated cat, they at least try their best, their just not given much to do and I don’t get casting them in these side rolls or not giving the butch role to one of them as Nicky Jam just sucks in the role. And I get Butch isn’t the most solid or complex character, but it still isn’t THAT hard, with the 80 drumloads of great comedians out there, to find SOMEONE better, and it’s weird Kevin Hart himself isn’t in the roll. If it wasn’t a wookie life debt i’m betting Hart was going to play Butch, had to back out due to scheduling conflicts or whatever, and Tim found the first guy he could who’d take almost nothing instead of an actual actor.

Kayla meanwhile somehow takes herself from sympathetic to wholly unlikeable in the span of the scene by maniuplating and terrifying a poor woman into not taking the job, outright STEALING HER RESUME, meaning if she screwed up this might go on the poor woman’s record, and lying her way into the job. And if the woman had been you know a classist dick or something, i’d understand but this is a perfectly nice lady who worked really hard, and who looses out on a job because some little bitch talked her out of it and then stole her identity. This one act really just makes me not care: It’s one thing to do what you gotta to get a job, I myself have never lied on an application but I get new york’s insanely expensive. Even if she presumibly lives in a hole that’s cramped, has roaches or rats, who given this unvierse probably have tiny tv’s that are still way too loud and binge watch way too much Jersey Shore at 2 in the morning, and is probably haunted, probably by Droopy wearing a bedsheet going boo but still, and yes he’s also alive here but he has identical cousins. Not the point. Point is even if she has sympathetic motives.. what she did is not okay and when she get flashes of guilt throughtout hte film it’s never long enough to feel like it’s not her simply feeling bad she didn’t get this herself and not that she STOLE IT FROM ANOTHER PERSON. Again if she’d FAKED her resume, this would’ve been fine, simply set up some websites, and it would’ve worked so why they went with this elaborate setup that takes her into outright crimes is beyond me.

Point is she gets hired by the manager/owner, Mr. Dubrois, played by Rob Delany, but since his name isn’t used enough i’m just going to call him Mustache Manager. Her direct superior whose against her being hired is Terrance, the Gate’s Event Manager played by a way too good for this film Micheal Pena, who sadly is given nothing to work with. Terrance.. is supposed to be the bad guy because he distrusts kayla. And while one of those reasons is stupid, she makes a joke about the goldfish being an aquatics manger and he takes it dead seriously, he’s rightfully supscious she’s not who she says she is, since one of the places on her resume is a place he knows people from. The only way the film manages to make him the bad guy is he is COMICALLY out of touch: he dosen’t get sarcasm, as seen before, dosen’t want people posting jerry to “snapgram or instaface”, and seems to have trouble relating to his guests. What makes this not work is that he’s manger at a ludicrously expensive hotel. As such a good chunk of his events would be for Celebrties, since New York’s a big hub for them, having tons living there and visiting for films, apperances on late night talk shows, SNL and what have you and being a prime spot for events and it’s clear part of his job is talking to the guests as the two the film focuses on, more on that in a minute, know him and have met him before. He also mentions Drake having stayed there... he would NOT have kept this job.

You’d need to do through research on these kinds of celebrates and social media is the easiest way to do that, to get what they like, what they don’t, what they don’t want to talk about, what scandals or gos might be going on to keep paparazzi out. I don’t even know how this business works nor did I google it.. and I didn’t to prove a point.. that even with no real idea how this works.. I still get what you’d probably need to know to make events for rich famous people. I’m not convinced Terrance knows how an internet works. And given writer Kevin Costello wrote the well received and weird film I still want to see Brigbsby Bear, I get the sense a lot of this nonsense was added in rewrites demanded by executives and credit him more for what works in the film. More on that in a moment.

Kayla is hired on because the Royal Gate has it’s biggest event ever, the wedding of Ben, played by Colin Jost, and Preeta, played by Pallavi Sharda. Why is it big? What do they do exactly? Are they trust fund babies? Did Ben invent an app? Did Preeta cure global warming? Did they both help defeat Galactus DEVOURER OF WORLDS?!... I dont’ know. If the film told me at all why their big names, even if it’s just because their famous for being famous which would be fine, why this is bigger than a fucking pope visiting, I missed it and I actually went back to their first scene and the scene where Mustache Manager brings up the wedding in the first place to Kayla, and found nothing. We just know their rich, their getting married, Ben doesn’t listen to Preeta and is insufferable, and that they own two classic Tom and Jerry characters: Ben owns spike whose played by Bobby Canavale who isn’t bad but dosen’t try to sound like spike at all and that annoys me given unlike Tom and Jerry, the former of whom’s signature noises from the cartoon were used archivally and otherwise dosen’t talk and only sings on occasion or does that wonderfully weird “don’t you belivie it” thing., has a distinct voice they could’ve got someone to imitate. The other is Preeya’s cat toodles, that white cat Tom is always trying to bang, who got a neat less anthro redesign.

Toots, Toodles whatever you call her the redesign works, making her more of a cat, and only speaking in meows for some reason, and combinging the two female cats tom’s liked, but while still being just funny animal enough that him wanting some pussy, so to speak, isn’t too creepy.

And this is where the film undergoes a bit of a shift. While the 20 or so minutes are rightfully focused on our boys with a bit of focus on Kayla, from here on out she’s our defacto lead. Given the last film did the same damn thing of making Tom and Jerry not the main leads in their own movie, you can see the problem. I will say to the film’s credit it is still LEAGUES better in a lot of other ways than the 90′s film in that the plot is actually centered around them: Jerry, when stealing some cheese, and runs afoul of the tempermental Chef Jackie played by Kim Jeong. Though i’m 100% not convinced Ben Chang didn’t just lie on his resume at some place and has now somehow become a michline star canditate. He finds Jerry, and Kayla volunteers to catch him to help her own career and validly points out her doing this discreetly with only the staff knowing about the mouse will keep it from becoming a social media nightmare.

The 90′s film could work without them, replacing them with any animal sidekick for Robin, since nit’s so far removed from Tom and Jerry their really an afterthought. Here the film DOES feel like a tom and jerry plot at it’s core, Jerry’s somewhere he shoudln’t be, Tom wants to chase him either due to personal greivance or his job depending on it, in this case both. The small side cast are all involved, and given decent if thin justifications for being there: Butch is an ally cat and Spike and Tootles are the pets of the happy couple.

And honestly the slapstick portions, the portions that are tom and jerry focused or use the humans well, are BRILLIANT. No really, it’s good stuff once in a while using a bit from the classics but mostly coming up with new gags and the animation is gorgeous. I won’t lie and say it’s always perfect, sometimes the models are a bit off and look unfinished and that’s not forgivable when you delay your film two months, and thus have extra time to work on that. But that’s a few shots here and there versus the majority of hte film where the various animals all blend perfectly. Unlike most Live Action adaptations of an old cartoon, this one actually seemed to have good reason, as they’ve taken the basic roger rabbit tech of decades ago and expanded on it well. Just like that classic you often wonder how the hell they pulled this off, and outside of one egregrous sequence where tom sets up an elaborate trap we spend far too much time on, when they do use CG for any props, you can’t tell. This is best highlighted by what I consdier to be the film’s best sequence and what brings Tom into the plot proper after lurking on the fringes for a good 15 minutes: Tom, miserable in the rain, finds jerry living it up in an empty room, and after some fun shenanigans trying to get in, finally succeds leading to a good 2-3 minute sequence of the two chasing after each other in the room. There are no actors, no one else and the room is empty, but perfectly gimmicked to time with thier movments. Wether they used cg and I couldn’t tell or just simply timed things great, it’s utterly fantastic and shows why this film is live action: while i’td be fine animated they cleary ahd the tech and ideas to do it live and thus did it this way. Naturally Kayla meets Tom again, and after finding out the room was trashed by both him and Jerry gets Mustache Manager to hire him.

But this is the problem: While there are great set pieces like this, or a REALLY damn impressive one later where Terrance gets dragged into a ball of violence while walking Spike for Ben and we see INSIDE IT, with Terrance not moving as fast but that being okay. And I love the movie’s commitment that ALL animals are animated. So it has it’s charms and gets a LOT right.

It’s clear to me from this strong core that the script was messed with, either by director Tim Story or the execs. Some misguided and stupid bits I get even if it was a bad idea: Tom does do the piano at one point, after he thinks he’s gotten rid of Jerry thanks to again an unwieldy overly long bit of CGI that’s a down spot on the usually good just tom and jerry stuff. And he STARTS singing a 40′s jazz song, and I thought “Okay they really got this and are doing something like is you is or is you ain’t my baby this will be fun”. Then T-Pain started using autotune, because of course, and Tom’s shoulder devil started scratching next to him...

By the way Tom’s Shoulder Devil and Angel are played very well by Lil Rel Howrey , aka Rod from Get Out. So good on you man, one bit of non miscasting. There’s one or two cringe inducing moment of trying to be hip here or there though for a film like this it isn’t nearly as bad as you’d expect. Still bad but i’ve seen so much worse at this point i’m not going to bother getting mad or upset over it. I’m used to this kind of thing from kids movies.

But while the film dosen’t really lack Tom and Jerry, it sidelines them way too often> There’s just too many scenes just about Kayla, whose not only not a great character despite Chole trying her absolute hardest god bless her. Her hitting it off with the bartender, her arguing with Terrance whose even more insufferable and her bonding with Preeta and Ben being annoying, we’ll get to him.. WE’LL GET TO HIM. But they aren’t funny or interesting, there’s nothing THERE to really get me interested, nothing new or fresh that we haven’t seen done better before. There’s just nothing, it feels like large parts of blank space. And to illustrate this my Niece, who I watched the film with and really loves Tom and Jerry after I showed it to her... played with other stuff during most of those scenes. And she’s young, her attention span is not great.. but noticably during the actual scenes of slapstick she was glued to the tv, just like she was when I showed her the classic shorts. It’s not just old farts like me who remember tom and jerry from their youth.. it’s the kids your TRYING to appeal to that don’t want this. If you can’t get kids, who in general and speaking from my own personal experience will watch just about anything, to pay attention YOU. HAVE. FAILED.

Okay took a second to compose myself, let’s move on to the rest of the movie. So after T-Pain stabbed music in the throat, we get to the worst section of the film as Kayla brokers peace between the two to get Preeta’s ring back after the three end up in the aformnetioned violence ball with Terrance, who she ducks his claims that she didn’t catch the mouse.. which she did not but for once she’s sympathetic as Terrance is much more likeable either, though gaslighting him and getting him put on leave is a bit extreme. Bafflingly, Kayla gets his job as event cordinator for now, and thus has to broker peace between the two warring factions.. and does so in the strangest way possible: by booking a day for them in new york to hang out and be BUDDIES!. This isn’t bad as the last film as it dosen’t last, but it is just.. surreal seeing the two having a hanging out montage around new york. Like the film just took a really weird turn with this, the montage itself isn’t weird, it’s standard shenanigans minus the fighting but still good stuff. Unlike the 90′s movie instead of singing about being palls or helping a small child, they just get into cartoony shenanigans together. More proof the film could’ve been so much better just with them.

Speaking of proof the film would’ve been better without them , Ben fucks around with a drone for the wedding, after Preeta confided in Kayla the wedding’s getting to be a bit much. So let’s talk about Ben shall we? While Preeta is just nice, friendly and down to earth, Ben... is a dumbass, a jackass and just an ass. His whole schtick is that he keeps escalting the wedding despite her wishing he’d stop, and i’ts just.. not funny. A guy ignoring his partner’s wishes, constnatly doing big gestures in large part to try and win over her dad who RIGHTFULLY hates, and in general just sucks. I do not blame this on Colin Jost: He’s perfectly charming on SNL, and Weekend Update is usually damn fun under him and Micheal Che. But like with Pena and Mortez, he’s given NOTHING to work with, and furthe rmore can’t improvise.. aka the skill most SNL cast and almnus walk away with. So it’s no suprise he instead comes off like an anoying plank of wood you want to see fall down a manhole and never return so Preeta can marry someone else. I dunno the Doorman’s a pretty cool guy, and if he’s taken or something there’s always Droopy. Droopy’s the smoothest motherfucker and we all know. And if HE’S taken there’s mustache man. The point is we have a Dating Game’s worth of elligble bachelors and the film tries to sell a plank of wood who clearly wants to bang Preeta’s dad more than he wants a genuine equal relationship with Preeta.

So that dosen’t help the final act.. which is started with something REALLY weird to round off tom and jerry’s day as Tom catches a ball, interupts a play and get.s. thrown in the pound for it?

I don’t know how tha’ts a crime, I don’t get it either, point is the animal control guy is a creep who shows them off as they pass some angry dogs.. and..

MY BOY. There was an earlier joke with him taking the place of The Joker, and I thought that was it sadly but nope there he is! While, given they don’t really have much to do with each other, it is a tad weird he’s been grafted onto the tom and jerry legacy.. I really don’t care because it means Droopy gets to show up every so often in other stuff like this.. And hopefully the spinoff series coming in the summer. I”ve talked before about how much I love this dog so having him show up here was a HUGE delight and easily the higlihgt of the film and the gag is perfect. WHy is he in prison? I don’t know. But given who we’re dealing with I also assume he just disappeared later and showed up at the Wolf’s place again to get the evidence to clear his name and to help a young brodway hopeful played by Peyton R LIst get to her audition in time. And yes I just imagined another live action film with a classic character.. but admit it you’d rather be watching that one. They also run into butch who tries to force him to eat Jerry or they’ll kill him.

Terence saw the arrest on the tv though, so he bails the two out, pits them against each other, and sets them loose at the wedding. This goes how you’d expect. the two cause chaos and thanks to Weekend UpDumbass there’s pecocks, tigers and elephants, and Jerry naturally spooks the elephants, Spike, who has it in for tom as usual, goes after tom the tiger goes after him and the wedding is destroyed. Preeta breaks up with Ben and leaves, and Kayla is fired.

Less good is that Tom gets thrown out because Terrance backed out on his deal because he’s a fucking asshole. So while Kayla gripes to her sorta loveintrest bartender man, and wishes she could fix things, T and J show up, both realizing it’s their fault and both with a plan to fix things leading to our climax. Kayla goes back to the hotel, and while Terrance tries to boject she rightfully blackmails him. Sadly neither get their commupance and while Mustache Manager puts two and two together, he’s all for ending this PR Nightmare and helping with Kayla’s plan to get ben to stage a wedding in central park that Preeta actually wants while our two actual heroes go to stop her and do some light kidnapping of toodles to get Preeta to stop.

So it ends how you’d expect: Preeta makes a huge mistake, seriously Droopy go to their honemoon I guarantee Ben will wonder off into the ocean because he thought it looked sick bro, Kayla gets her job back and in a move that makes her almost tolerable hires the woman she stole from who Terrance clearly wants to bang, and Tom actually catches Toot’s eye, but then Jerry mucks it up because cockblocking tom has been his job since the 40′s, they fight, Kayla tells them to cut it out, they put an the end thing over it. Roll credits.

As you could tell I had issues with this film and had more the more I thought about it. So it’s not very good.. but I still recommend watching it if you have Max right now. Yes really. While the human parts are pretty awful as you could tell, you can have some fun mocking them, and it’s worth suffering through them for the bits with our boys, as those bits are geneuinely energetic, fun and what you came for. If you like tom and Jerry, you probably won’t like this movie.. but you’ll enjoy those bits. Hopefully if there’s a sequel, and this film was a suprise hit so their probably will be, they’ll learn their lesson from this one and focus less on the humans and more on the hyjinks but overall this is just a medicore waste of some really great technology and slapstick. This is just one huge ball of dispaointment instead of cartoon violence and i’m sorry it ended this way. If you liked this review, you can follow me on my patreon at patreon.com/popculturebuffet. Even 1 dollar a month helps and my next stretch goal nets a Darkwing Duck episode a month, so if that excites you, please sign up. And if you can’t afford to that’s fine and feel free to stick around anyway. Times are hard and I get that. And I will see you at the next rainbow.

#tom and jerry #tom and jerry 2021 #tom and jerry movie #tom and jerry the movie #tom cat #jerry mouse #droopy #toodles #spike #micheal pena #chloe grace moretz #kim jeong #colin jost #hbo max #mgm #warner brothers

6 notes · View notes

gamerwoo · 5 years

Text

Wonwoo: Focus

Anonymous asked: hi can i ask for a gamer wonwoo smut please? i know you wrote one in the series but could you write one besides that? maybe like the reader want attention but he’s playing games and it leads to smut or they bet over a game and it’s related to smut? i hope it helps! also please don’t feel pressured to post this if you don’t want to xx i love your writing! thank you 💓

Characters: Wonwoo x female reader

Genre/warnings: gamer/streamer au, smut (kinda exhibitionism, oral, cockwarming), kinda fluffy at the end

Word count: 2,338

Summary: Having a popular Twitch streamer for a boyfriend, his attention is usually on his computer, his games, and his audience rather than you. So you figure if he won’t give you attention, you’ll make it harder for him to keep his attention off of you.

a/n: I didn’t know what to use for twitch usernames so uh I used names of my mutuals dskfhjksdhf shoutout to y’all (especially @sadienita who helped me w the direction it should go toward the end bc i didn’t know if i wanted to keep up w cocky asshat wonwoo or whiny baby wonwoo)

“Sadienita, thank you for the five months; heartskun, thank you for the $5 -- I appreciate it.”

Wonwoo’s eyes drifted over from the game to his chat, thanking the people he didn’t get to while he was playing. He had a break of a few seconds between respawning so he usually used it to look at chat. There were always plenty of questions and comments flooding in, so he’d thank the subs and donors while answering any questions or replying to any comments that stuck out to him.

You were currently kind of pissed off at him because he decided to stream instead of spend time with you. You had a particularly bad day at work today, so you were feeling extra needy because of it. But Wonwoo kept telling you he had a schedule to stick to, so he went straight to the office to stream, ignoring all of your advances.

But was that stopping you? Absolutely not.

You’d snuck into his office while he was distracted with the game. Since he wasn’t using facecam today, you stood behind him and wrapped your hands around him, your palms rubbing up and down his chest as your lips went right to his neck.

“_____-ah, I’m busy,” he whined, silencing his mic so he could scold you.

You let out a huff, moving away from him and sitting on the floor beside him instead. You were still feeling clingy, though, so you wrapped your arms around his leg and leaned your head against his knee, hoping maybe he’d give you some form of attention -- a head pat at the very least. But no, he carried on with his game, shot calling to his team.

Your hands started traveling further up Wonwoo’s leg until your fingers were dancing across his thighs over his shorts. You tilted your head back to glance up at his face only to see that he didn’t seem to care at all. His expression was still neutral as he played the game, the clicks of his keyboard still making the same patterns.

Feeling a little ballsy, you decided to test your luck. You crawled under his desk and knelt between his legs, your hand moving up to palm him through his shorts. He bit his lip but wasn’t fazed other than that. But still, he wasn’t telling you to stop and he wasn’t pulling away...

“My shots are steady, shut up chat,” Wonwoo pouted.

You smirked to yourself. Clearly you did have some kind of affect on your boyfriend if his chat was telling him his aiming was shaky, and that was only made clearer when a tent quickly formed in his shorts. But his face still showed zero emotion.

Your hands ventured higher, hooking your fingers through the waistband of his shorts and underwear, tugging both down just enough for his erection to spring free. You bit your lower lip as you gripped the base and leaned in, licking up the underside of his cock.

Wonwoo cleared his throat. You looked up to see him pushing his glasses up his nose but that was it. So you wrapped your lips around his tip, swirling your tongue as you slowly took more and more of him into your mouth. Still, his eyes never left the screen, but you didn’t see the way his hand clenched around the mouse momentarily before he stretched out his fingers and went back to holding it as he usually did.

You couldn’t tell if it was hotter to have Wonwoo be so passive about you sucking him off or if you’d rather he acknowledge your existence. Did you like how he removed his headphones and ran a hand through his hair before putting them back on, acting as if everything was normal? Or did you prefer he looked down at you and bit his lip to hold back moans, barely able to concentrate on his game?

You got your answer when you lowered your head all the way down, staying there for a moment as you deepthroated your boyfriend. You tried to stay as long as possible, but ultimately ended up gagging after a few seconds and coming back up. You felt fingers grip your hair, making you look up from under the desk to see Wonwoo’s eyes meet yours through his glasses as he put a finger to his lips, an eyebrow raised.

Arousal burned in your lower abdomen, seeing the amused look Wonwoo gave you. You simply nodded and went back to sucking him off, using your hand to stroke whatever you couldn’t fit.

“What was what noise?” Wonwoo asked with a chuckle, apparently reading a comment in chat as he put his hand back on his keyboard. “There was a gagging noise? Ah, it’s probably Neko.”

You tried not to giggle. Of course Wonwoo would blame your cat.

You started moving your head faster, and you could feel Wonwoo’s thigh flexing beneath your hand. Clearly, it was starting to get harder for him to stay quiet, making you smirk around his length.

“There’s somebody on the--" you heard Wonwoo cut off and suddenly suck in sharply as you hollowed your cheeks. He tried to steady his breathing before he continued. “There’s... There’s somebody on the left.”

You slid your free hand down into your panties, teasing your entrance with your index finger before pushing in. You ground down against your palm to get some friction against your clit as you continued to bob your head on Wonwoo’s length. You hummed around his length, sending vibrations through it that had him biting down on his lower lip, keeping his eyes on his screen.

Wonwoo was back to hardly paying any attention to you. He blew off his strange behavior as him stubbing his toe on his desk before he was back to shot calling and speaking to chat as normal. But it wasn’t long until you were quietly whining and whimpering as you added another finger into your heat, moving them in and out as you rubbed your clit with your thumb. Even with his headphones on, Wonwoo knew you were making little noises from the way his cock vibrated because of your lips around him.

Once he’d died again, he glanced down at you. You had saliva at the corners of your mouth and you had one hand down your panties, and the sight was enough to have Wonwoo smirking. He was more than amused at how desperate you were, and he wanted to use that to his advantage.

He reached down with one hand, stroking your hair back to get your attention. Then he was beckoning for you with two fingers, rolling his chair back. You crawled out from under the desk and stood up, feeling relief in your knees. Wonwoo hooked his fingers into your underwear and dragged them down before he grabbed your hips and pulled your forward, silently telling you that he wanted you to ride him.

“Stream?” you mouthed to him as you put one leg on either side of him on his chair.

“Be quiet,” he mouthed back with a smirk.

Despite the fact you didn’t think you’d be that quiet, you lined yourself up before sinking down on his cock, biting your lip to muffle the whimpers. The way he stretched and filled you would always be way better than anything your fingers could do. Your nails dug into his shoulders as you rested your head in the crook of his neck, nipping at his skin to try to hide the moans that wanted to make their way from your throat.

Wonwoo merely sighed as you slowly bounced your hips. He seemed almost content at the way you rode him and nuzzled into him, continuing to pay attention to the game rather than to you. He let you do all the work as he focused on his game that he was determined to complete before he gave in to you.

Or so he thought.

The way you clenched around him and the way your warm breath hit his skin was slowly breaking his resolve. The quiet mewls that were muffled into his shoulder paired with how your hips sped up as you rode him was enough to have him coughing to hide his moans. It was becoming too hard to hide, and he soon found himself having the urge to leave his game early.

“Chat, I’ll be right back,” he suddenly said, making you pause your movements. “I gotta go check on _____ real quick.”

You sat up straight and looked over your shoulder to see his screen. He muted his mic and then went to leave his game but you quickly reached over and grabbed his wrist, stopping him.

“_____--”

“Keep going,” you told him.

“What?”

“You thought you could ignore me, so do it. Keep playing like nothing’s happening.”

“I can’t,” he whined, slumping back into the chair. “It’s too much, you feel too good.”

“If you don’t, I’ll stop,” you threatened with a smirk.

Wonwoo groaned, “_____, if anybody finds you, I’ll get banned.”

“Then don’t let anybody find out,” you giggled before you unmuted his mic.

“I’m--” Wonwoo stopped, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath as you continued your movements, trying to keep the noise to a minimum while still making sure there was enough friction to push both of you to your releases. “I-I’m back, guys.”

Wonwoo scanned the screen as he chewed on his lip to keep any noises of pleasure back, but he did let out an awkward cough that almost made you laugh.

“Why’d I have to check on _____?” he read off one of the questions. “Sh-she’s uh...not feeling good. She’s s-sick.”

You were pretty impressed Wonwoo was even able to form a sentence considering how hard he was biting his lip. He bucked his hips up into you, causing you to gasp and slap a hand over your mouth, squeezing your eyes shut to concentrate on keeping quiet. You knew Wonwoo was doing this on purpose to embarrass you instead of him, but you weren’t going to let him win that game.

His mind started to get hazy the longer it went on. He could barely pay attention to the game, his tracking only getting worse and worse as he got closer to his orgasm. He could feel it quickly building, something about the thrill of doing this on stream arousing him more than he’d want to admit. But you felt the same, and you were having a hard time hiding the sound of skin hitting skin with how quickly you moved on his length. Your hand had already snaked down between your bodies to rub your clit, hoping to chase your high that was coming closer and closer.

At this point, Wonwoo wasn’t even speaking to his chat or reading comments anymore. His jaw was clenched as he focused on keeping his noises in, only clearing his throat and letting out coughs to hide the groans of pleasure.

For somebody who thought he could play this game, he lost. As his orgasm hit, he let go of his mouse and keyboard, opting to hold you as close as he could as he thrust up into you to ride out his orgasm how he wanted to. His head was thrown back against his chair as he pressed his lips into a thin line, only puffing air out through his nose as he worked through his orgasm. He didn’t even care that his character in-game was dead now. The game was completely forgotten in favor of you.

Feeling Wonwoo’s warm release and seeing the way his jaw clenched over and over was enough to send you over the edge soon after him, letting out a soft, high-pitched whine as you bit down onto his shoulder to stay silent. Your body shuddered as you came, grinding down onto him as he rubbed your back and let you relax before he went back to what he was doing before.

When your muscles had finally relaxed and you melted into the warmth of his body, his eyes flickered over to his chat that was being spammed with comments of him throwing his game and also questioning what that odd squeak was that they heard. He chuckled, keeping one arm around you while the other went back to his mouse.

“Sorry, _____ needed me,” he replied, the sudden sound of his voice making you jump. “That noise was her -- she came into the room because her stomach hurts.”

Despite the fact you were now sexually satisfied, you didn’t want to leave Wonwoo just yet. You were still needy for his touch, and you knew he still wouldn’t be done streaming for a while. That meant you’d have to go lay in bed alone, and that wasn’t something you were excited to do. But you knew you had to.

You went to get up, but Wonwoo tightened his hold on you, keeping you on his softening member as he moved his hand up your back to lay your head back down on his shoulder. You weren’t sure what he was doing, but you went along with it.

“She’s going to sit with me until I’m done,” he told his stream before he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll probably play one or two more games before I take her to bed.”

Something about your current position was actually really comforting, and you found your eyes closing as Wonwoo let go of you and went back to his game. You could hear soft hums of concentration every now and then, along with the tapping of his keys. His shot calling was softer now, careful not to disturb you, but you liked hearing his voice anyway.

Before you completely fell asleep, you heard him laughing quietly at a comment from chat.

“‘What if those noises were Wonwoo and his girlfriend doing it?’. Chat, we’d never do that. Get your minds out of the gutter.”

927 notes · View notes

firstpuffin · 5 years

Text

Dealing with overpowered antagonists:

-Note: haha- whoops. I meant to add an image but forgot, leaving only the note reminding me to do so.

Always triple proof-read your stuff to save yourself from embarrassment!

If you enjoy any kind of fantastic action story, whether it be peacekeepers in space, superheroes in New York or Vampires on a flat-earth atop the backs of four elephants, it is likely that at some point you will come across an overpowered antagonist. This enemy may be the man in the high tower pulling all of the strings or just a henchman too dumb to make plans; he can’t be hurt and he has greater raw power than the hero, but somehow he needs to be defeated (by the way, I’m using the old fashioned “he” rather than mess around with confusing specific gender-neutral pronouns; it’s just practical).

An example of this and the one that inspired this piece is Doomsday from the recent “Death of Superman” cartoon movie and is my bad example of how to write an overpowered villain. A reasonably comparable- erm, comparison in world, power levels and characters is from Japan; the recently finished (or on hiatus) series Dragon Ball Super did an overpowered antagonist reasonably well. Keep in mind I’m not saying Japan does this better, it’s just a coincidence.

I’m sure everybody knows Superman but I’ll briefly cover Dragon Ball to give non-nerds context. Like Superman, Dragon Ball started off as a comic book series (manga to those who get pissy about terminology) that has also been animated; the latest series is called Dragon Ball Super. The hero, Son Goku, is an alien sent from a dying planet and who gains godlike powers. I’ll point out that while Goku’s powers are innate, unlike Superman he has accessed them through rigorous training rather than convenient exposure to the sun and he is in no way a hero of justice. He’s already very strong but he transforms his body to get stronger and, through what’s become a gag in the fandom, he has about six transformations; he actually has more depending on what you count but six is the minimum. You may have seen the meme “this isn’t even my final form”: you can thank Dragon Ball for that.

Goku and Supes have been compared again and again and fans frequently (and kind of pathetically) fight over which is stronger; I’m not going to get involved in that as I know Goku really well, but Superman barely at all. I bring all of this up because the similarities and comparisons allow for a really interesting analysis of their antagonists.

First of all, let’s look at Doomsday. I mean, I’d rather not as he’s ugly as sin. Now that the bad joke’s over let’s actually say something of value: Doomsday is this huge grey-skinned, red-eyed (real original guys) and white-boned monstrosity. I say white boned because he has what appear to be pointed bones sticking out from all over him. From what I can grasp he is some sort of mutant Kryptonian without a mind or intelligence and that just destroys. There’s not much else to say besides that he appears to be a stronger version of Superman, minus intelligence.

The antagonist in Dragon Ball Super is called Jiren the Grey and he is- well he’s grey-skinned. Don’t ask me, naming-schemes might be different in Japan. Anyway, Jiren is an alien with grey-skin, big black-eyes and no hair. It’s never stated what species he is or how innately strong they are, but the dude is huge, like absolute unit huge. He is intelligent but appears lacking in the personality department, generally being quiet. Like Goku, his strength has been achieved through training although he doesn’t transform.

Let’s return to Doomsday and the subject at hand. Doomsday wanders around destroying everything until he meets Supes who is almost his match. The two fight for a long time with Superman losing ground until it is clear that he is being overwhelmed. Superman’s punches don’t do enough while Doomsday’s punches hurt. Supes tries everything he can, flight, heat vision, punching harder. But it reaches the point where the Hall of Justice is ruined and a broken Superman is being thrashed; Lois decides to yeet a stone at Doomsday who seems as fresh as a wild daisy and if I know the character well enough then it’s probably stronger than when the fight started. Seeing Lois in danger, Superman- kills Doomsday. Just like that. He fly-punches Doomsday’s head in a 180.

It comes out of nowhere and there is no reason for it. Yes, watching a man who can fly and shoot lasers requires the suspension of disbelief, but that only goes so far. Supes being able to outrun the sound of a speeding bullet is internally consistent within the world and we begin by accepting that. We know he is weak to kryptonite and being punched really, really hard, and that he gathers strength from the sun. And, in the name of being internally consistent, we see him being punched really, really hard at night when the sun is out and being unable to reciprocate. Even suspending our disbelief, just going by what we’ve seen in the movie so far, Superman should not have been able to beat Doomsday by just punching harder.

So what about Dragon Ball? Some more background, there are twelve universes that exist and ten fighters from eight of these universes are having a battle royale in the “Tournament of Power” and it has been established that there is a character who even the gods can’t match: Jiren the Grey. From the moment we see him he is calm and strong. Throughout the tournament he rarely acts and when he does he pulls off amazing feats: he tosses a berserk character who Goku was struggling with off of the stage, he deflects attacks with a look and blows a fighter out of the ring with the air pressure from a punch.

When he eventually fights Goku, who is the only person strong enough to actually put up a struggle, he overwhelms him. I’ll admit, the execution is trite and uninteresting (it’s boring and silly seeing someone block an attack with a finger; don’t do that), but it’s shown that Goku doesn’t stand a chance. Now Goku has been training under an angel in order to fight the gods (I know, sounds weird, right?) and he’s been training to do some martial arts thing where the body acts before the mind can think, and during the fight this training begins to manifest. This is shown before the tournament, as is the fact Goku’s species, known as Saiyans, are born fighters and will become more skilled as they do so; this is all internally consistent and matches what the viewers have already accepted.

Goku and Jiren fight three times and the only reason that Goku doesn’t lose the first time is because of Jiren’s arrogance. He gives Goku time to rest (twice) and to get a hang on the skills that had started to manifest during their fight, skills which he perfects during the final fight. Now I’ll admit that things don’t totally make sense: Goku learns to let his body react intuitively, speeding up his movement, and yet this causes him to transform again? This seems a bit contrived, and yet it uses what we already know: the Saiyan race can transform.

I can justify this by saying that it’s more than him reacting to attacks, his body as a whole is acting according to decades of training and transforming, and this manifests through the perfect transformation. I came up with this because it matches what the story has told us. Goku wins because of what they have told us for a long, long time. But you know what? Goku doesn’t win with this new power.

Goku has worn down Jiren when the new transformation’s side effects kick in and he loses the power as the muscle strain nearly cripples him. He then has to fight alongside two of his teammates to defeat this weakened Jiren.

The reason why Jiren’s defeat is so good is that it relies on things that we have known and has been established within the story; it’s internally consistent. Now I have to admit, Dragon Ball Super is a series that lasted a few years and is tagged on the end of another decades long series, and The Death of Superman is a couple hour long movie. This certainly gives Dragon Ball the advantage of time, but that doesn’t hugely matter.

It’s more than possible to set up a weakness in the early minutes of a movie, or better yet throughout the movie. Show that Doomsday has a weak neck; maybe see his bone-protrusions pierce Superman’s skin but are fragile and break off. Supes can yank out a shard from his own stomach and stab Doomsday. Maybe being a Kryptonian monster he also has a weakness to Kryptonite. Maybe… anything. It doesn’t have to be hours of our hero training to get stronger, just don’t pull a stronger punch out of your arse.

#first puffin #fiction #fantasy #science fiction #superman #superhero #antagonist #comics #DC comics #son goku #saiyan #dragon ball super #dragon ball #dragon ball z #doomsday #jiren the gray #storytelling #thosetagswilldofornow

6 notes · View notes

emeto-omo · 6 years

Text

Vampiric Appetites - McHanzo (Overwatch AU)

Title: Vampiric Appetites Characters: vampire!Hanzo Shimada & Jesse McCree (Overwatch AU) Summary: Hanzo has a bad habit of sucking down blood packs, laying on the couch depressed about his state of mortality while McCree is off working. McCree returns to find Hanzo’s practically “drank” himself sick in his absence. Disclaimer: Story contains blood drinking, vomiting, and talks of depression.

Inspired by this picture that @squidbiscuit did.

~~~

“Han…”

The sound of cloth rustling sounded through the dark living room and what McCree was partially sure was a hiss met his ears as he closed the front door. He had been meticulously careful to keep the swath of sunlight that had cut the darkness like a buzz saw to a minimum, having gotten ridiculously good at in the days that had followed Hanzo’s accident.

Truthfully, the neighbors had posed a few curious looks and questions to see the pudgy cowboy squeezing himself uncomfortably through a barely open doorway. It had taken some doing, but they seemed convinced now that they’d simply gotten a capricious kitten with a terrible case of extreme wanderlust.

McCree flipped the light on beside the couch, causing Hanzo to curse and practically fly beneath the afghan that hung over the back of it. The floor around the sofa was littered with drained blood packs, nearly the entire week’s supply that McCree had “liberated” from the local blood bank.

“I can’t tell if yer dead or depressed…” McCree sighed, moving to pull the covers from Hanzo’s head.

His normally well-maintained head of hair had become a fancy mullet from his lack of attention to it, his bangs spikey and sticking up in every which direction thanks to the blanket being removed. He scowled. “They are not mutually exclusive.”

“Neither is yer binge drinkin’. Ya’d think these here sake instead’a clean blood.” McCree said, stooping down to begin picking up the packs.

Hanzo’s stomach made a high-pitched whine longing for the true death instead of the unending bloat it was currently in as his freshly undead digestive system fought to adjust to his newest diet.

“What do you think it is going to do? Kill me?” He half-joked, though the note of disappointment in his tone was not lost on McCree, and it stung.

“It’ll get easier. We’ve been through worse.” McCree said, taking the drained packs out of the room.

Hanzo sighed, not needing his heightened senses to pick up on the mood shift. Slipping from the touch, he pressed a hand to his lips as his stomach sloshed uncomfortably, another sickening whine escaping.

McCree returned with an emptied wastebasket and set it in Hanzo’s lap, but before he could leave the room again, the vampire caught his wrist. “Jesse…”

The cowboy couldn’t stop his heart from fluttering. It was such a rarity that Hanzo used his first name, rarer still when he spoke it like a prayer. “I know, Han. I know you didn’t mean it like that.”

“It hurt still.” Hanzo acknowledged, before swallowing thickly around the deluded copper taste flooding his mouth as saliva began to pool.

“It did. But I know yer hurtin’ too,” McCree whispered. Sitting next to Hanzo, he rubbed his back with his flesh hand, his expression softening. “I know its selfish of me ta be grateful that I still have ya when ya probably sufferin’ more than if he’d killed ya, an I’m sorry for it.”

Hanzo looked at him with dark eyes that glowed a soft red in their depths, but the look in them was anything but cursed. “I am also…” hic. “…glad I am here for you, still.”

McCree gave his boyfriend a soft smile and tucked his hair back some. “I know,” he said softly. “Ya really overdid it with that blood, didn’t ya?”

As if in reply, his rumbling stomach pitched suddenly, and he gagged wetly. McCree chucked softly, rubbing his back more. “Go ahead. Yer not gonna bother me.”

Leaning over the trash can in his lap, Hanzo relaxed and let it come. The next lurch brought with a small gush of pink-stained saliva that he spat into the bin with a soft noise, looking far greyer than before, his skin nearly translucent he had paled so much. McCree slid his arm further around Hanzo so that he could lay his hand on his stomach, and with the next gag, he pressed in.

The flood gates open, and Hanzo pitched forward as vibrant red blood poured from his lips, splattering into the bottom of the trashcan. Almost immediately, he belched on the end of it and another thick spray followed. Habitually, he tried to draw breath no longer needed and choked, coughing and sputtering enough to let out a rather rough sounding retch and bringing up a smaller rush of blood-vomit.

“Yer alright, Han. Yer alright.” McCree said, moving his hand to keep his hair out of the way. “Jes let it happen.”

The archer would end up bringing up one final wave, this one darker than the other and half-congealed before his stomach seemed settled enough. McCree took the wastebasket and kissed Hanzo’s cheek, offering him a tissue to clean the bloody drool from his lips while McCree dumped the putrid smelling bloody puke down the garbage disposal.

As he returned, he found Hanzo laid out on the couch, miserable, but looking less transparent than before. McCree took a seat on the floor next to him, causing Hanzo to remove the man’s cowboy hat so that he could slide his fingers through his thick brown locks. “You are too good to me.”

Jesse chuckled gently and turned to lay a kiss on Hanzo’s chest. “I like ta think I’m jus good enough.”

-Fin-

#mchanzo #hanzo shimada #jesse mccree #overwatch #overwatch au #emeto #vampire #emetophilia #sickfic #squidbiscuit #my fic #fanfic #vomiting #blood #throw up #puke

134 notes · View notes

nellie-elizabeth · 5 years

Text

Supernatural: Lebanon (14x13)

Hmm. So I... Hm. I have a lot of thoughts and feelings to discuss. This is probably going to turn in to quite the review. It's one of those ones where I really don't know how I'm going to fall on the scale when I grade it at the end. I'm just going to start writing, and I'll get to my thoughts through that.

Cons:

If I were to review this episode by comparing it to the milestone 200th episode, I might look on it with some disfavor. Why? Well, this was an episode centered around the nuclear Winchester family. So, the focus was on Sam, Dean, John, and Mary. And I'm cool with there being an episode focusing on that dynamic, and it's neat that Jeffrey Dean Morgan was able to come back and all that. But the 200th episode managed to focus on the themes of the show as a whole. It focused mostly on Sam and Dean, but it referenced everything from Adam to Destiel to Chuck to the Samulet and so much more. It was an episode that managed to be about the ever-changing, twisting road that is Supernatural over the seasons. This episode, by contrast, was kind of a "taking it back to basics" sort of episode, that encapsulated the original, long past, aims and themes of the show. Not a bad idea for an episode AT ALL. Just an interesting choice for such a big milestone. Barely any Cas, no Jack, no other recurring guests or even mention of them really... it felt like this episode existed in a time capsule, a little bubble that could have landed anywhere in any season and felt just as appropriate. Is that a bad thing? I don't know.

The elephant in the room here is that John Winchester was a demonstrably abusive father. Supernatural demonstrates that, but ever since his death back at the start of Season Two, the show has been inconsistent in how it's treated the memory of this character. It makes perfect sense, and is indeed good, that Sam and Dean themselves would have conflicting emotions. I don't mind that sometimes Dean brings up how awful John was, and other times seems to canonize him as some sort of a saint. That makes sense for his character. I don't mind that Sam has forgiven John for everything and has his own regrets about their tempestuous relationship. But here's where it gets a little more shaky for me. Think about it: from John Winchester's perspective in this episode, he's in 2003. He and Sam are not on speaking terms. He is continuing to emotionally and perhaps physically abuse and manipulate Dean, who idolizes him in an unhealthy way. Sam and Dean can remember their dad with rose colored glasses, but a more interesting, and more real, interpretation of the John Winchester that they should be meeting in this episode would be one that's so full of anger and grief that he lashes out at his two sons and can't accept Sam wanting to do anything outside of the hunting life.

I like that Sam and John had their big apology/reconciliation scene. I like that Sam expresses that he put their arguments aside a long time ago. But what about Dean? The problem is, John is right in the middle of things with Dean - from his perspective, he would have no reason for apologizing. And Dean would never ask for that apology, or express any anger. But Dean deserves to feel that anger. He deserves for his years of perspective to have taught him that his dad wasn't really a good father to him at all. He was, at minimum, neglectful, and Dean doesn't get to confront that in any meaningful way in this episode.

A couple of smaller notes: as I said above, I understand that this episode had a rather narrow focus on the Winchesters, but it did include a few other characters - namely, Cas and Zachariah. If you were going to do the whole timeline being rewritten thing, cool. If you were going to throw in a few cameos, cool. But this is the 300th episode, people! Is Zachariah really the best pull you have? No Bobby? No Naomi? No Charlie? Gabriel? Jody? Nothing? Time is being rewritten! There are so many creative cameos you could have done here, and it could have been brief, and not taken away from the focus on John. Zach just felt like a very odd choice for such a brief reappearance. Also, does killing him mess up the timeline even more? Time travel makes my head hurt.

I liked the random teens at the beginning of the episode, but it felt odd to cram in this story at the start of the episode, and then toss it aside for much of the run-time. There was just a bit too much focus on the kids to discount it as window dressing, and not enough focus to really bring them in to the limelight as characters in their own right.

Pros:

If I try to tear myself away from reviewing this as a milestone episode, I think I look at it with much more favor. John Winchester has long been a looming presence on this show, and I think the opportunity to focus on him, and more specifically, on his sons' memories and relationships with him, is a great concept for an episode. I personally think John sucks, and I might have wished for him to be treated a bit less kindly by the narrative in this instance. But I'm on Sam and Dean's side, always. I want what's best for them, and a happy family is what they want and totally deserve. I liked seeing that.

For me, I would forgive a hell of a lot of crap for just the moment with Sam and Dean washing up dishes after dinner. That scene for me was the one moment that most made this episode feel like the 300th. It's just Sam and Dean alone, talking about what a shame it is that they'll send John back and he won't remember anything, thus making the whole trip pointless. But Dean points out that as hard as their lives have been, he doesn't want to change anything because then, what would that make them? Dean says he's good with who he is, and with who Sam is too. That is freakin' HUGE. That is a capstone moment for Dean Winchester's character development, and it made me instantly misty-eyed.

Let's do a little check-in with the Cas corner here. Yeah, I might be slightly bummed he wasn't in more of the episode, but there are several things to discuss even so. First of all, Misha killed it with his performance as the back-to-Angel-basics Castiel that we saw. We see the wings, he calls himself an Angel of the Lord, and he kicks the crap out of Sam and Dean. First of all, I'm sure Misha took great satisfaction in that. Second of all, I love the way that Cas is used as a shorthand for everything that's wrong with this changing timeline. Before this moment, Dean was happy to accept the changing universe as recompense for having John back. After this encounter, Sam and Dean both know that things have gone too far. A world where Cas doesn't know them, and tries to kill them, is unacceptable. I also like that Sam and Zachariah paired off for the fight, leaving us with the delicious angst of Dean trying to stop Cas from killing him. (Again. Sheesh). I love that bewildered, heartbroken look on Dean's face when he realizes Cas doesn't know him. And I also love that as the episode ends, the real Cas, our Cas, returns to the bunker, solidifying his place among the core cast of the show, and among the family.

Another thing that I was struggling with a bit in this episode is that the focus was so much on the family, but the family seemed only to include the Winchester four. "Family don't end in blood" is one of the more powerful lines and sentiments from this show's long history. But as the hour progressed, I realized that this core message wasn't being disregarded. Sam and Dean fill John in on everything that he's missed, and they're clear to emphasize that they live in a bunker with an angel and with Lucifer's son. They don't have time to go in to all of the details, but they're sure to fill John in on the state of their family - Sam, Dean, Mary, Cas, Jack. That's family to them now. This important point is re-emphasized again as John has a moment with Dean, lamenting that Dean never got out of the life, and instead was pulled in by John's mission. He says he thought Dean would have a family of his own one day, and Dean instantly responds: "I have a family." This moment is strengthened by his later saying to Sam that he's good with who he is. Yes, he never settled down with a single romantic partner and had babies of his own, but he is not at all dissatisfied or unfulfilled when it comes to a strong family system. It's not just the Winchesters vs. the rest of the world anymore, and that's important to point out.

I know that I earlier said that I had some qualms about the opening sequence with the teens, but I actually really liked the stuff with the pawn shop, the magic items, and Sam and Dean on a regular hunt. It felt a little imbalanced within the pacing of the episode, but I also think it's important to note another key aspect of this story: an homage to the humble beginnings of Supernatural. Sam and Dean are on a simple hunt. They have to burn an item to defeat a ghost. There's a hilarious gag about the ghost of John Wayne Gacy, given Sam's hatred of clowns and fascination with serial killers. It's all very classic Supernatural. It's a sequence that could fit into the show in any season at all. It's also a chance for us to spend some time with Sam and Dean alone, doing what they do best. That was once the only heart of this show that mattered, and it's still one of the most important pieces to the puzzle. We also get John fighting Sam and Dean in the dark, in a nice echo of Sam and Dean's fight in the pilot. All of this serves to show that this 300th episode is about honoring the show's origins, instead of trying to encompass the whole thing. I have conflicting feelings about that, as shown above, but mostly I think it's done really well.

On a smaller note, I love the introduction of the concept that Sam and Dean go about town in Lebanon as the Campbell brothers, and that they've become something of a local legend. That was such a cool idea. I never really thought about their day-to-day reality, but it's cool to think about them being an urban legend, because it kind of brings the show around full circle. From hunting urban legends to becoming one! And the kids describing Cas and Jack was hilarious. Another moment to emphasize that Team Free Will includes all four of the boys.

And now to the performances. Because... holy hell. This episode starts to fall apart a bit if you scrutinize the plot too closely. John Winchester, as I mentioned, is not behaving very John Winchester-y. But this is about Sam and Dean getting closure, and let me tell ya... all four of these actors (Padalecki, Ackles, Morgan, and Smith) were giving it their all, and I felt every one of those heartbreaking, heartwarming moments. I'm going to rapid-fire some of the best things I noticed:

- The way John's voice cracked on the word "Mary" when he heard her voice.

- John and Mary holding hands, and John saying "my girl" to her... instant tears.

- The look on Sam's face when John said "I'm proud of you."

- The hug between John and his two sons, complete with all three of them crying.

- Dean saying "I love you too." Just like... wow. Dude has been throwing the love word around a lot and I am all about it.

- Dean flinching when Sam crushed the pearl.

- Sam saying that he thinks about John a lot and doesn't think about their fights, but thinks instead about not getting to say goodbye.

- Both Sam and John saying "I'm sorry."

- All of the overly sappy yet beautiful shots during the family dinner, of the family laughing, and sharing stories, and eating Winchester Surprise. The fact that this is the ONLY family dinner that they've ever had that way is just heartbreaking. But I'm so happy they got to have it.

Well, what did I tell you? This review is long. I knew it would be. 300 episodes, you guys. Holy crap. And we've got a Season Fifteen coming around the bend. I was really pleased with Jeffrey Dean Morgan's performance, and I thought Jared and Jensen killed it with the emotional material as usual. Are my thoughts conflicted? Yes. But is this one of those episodes that I'll probably go back and watch again? Also yes. It stands out, and it made me emotional. That's kind of all I can ask for.

8.5/10

#review #supernatural #supernatural review #spn 14x13 #spn 300th #spn

11 notes · View notes

pass-the-bechdel · 5 years

Text

Marvel Cinematic Universe: The Avengers (2012)

Does it pass the Bechdel Test?

No.

How many female characters (with names and lines) are there?

Three (23.07% of cast).

How many male characters (with names and lines) are there?

Ten.

Positive Content Rating:

Three.

General Episode Quality:

It’s solid. Unpopular opinion? I don’t think it’s half as good as people made it out to be, back when it first hit cinemas and everyone was swooning. It’s solid, but that’s the best I’ve got for it.

MORE INFO (and potential spoilers) UNDER THE CUT:

Passing the Bechdel:

...

Female characters:

Maria Hill.

Natasha Romanov.

Pepper Potts.

Male characters:

Nick Fury.

Phil Coulson.

Erik Selvig.

Clint Barton.

Loki.

Bruce Banner.

Steve Rogers.

Tony Stark.

JARVIS.

Thor.

OTHER NOTES:

‘free from freedom’ is such a wanky piece of writing, man. It’s absolute nonsense, but it sounds vaguely profound if you don’t think about it at all. I thought about it. It’s idiotic.

The very first thing we see of Black Widow in this movie is her being hit in the face, wearing a slinky little dress, tied to a chair being interrogated by a bunch of men. We’re supposed to indulge this excuse for hurting and objectifying a woman and then write it off as ‘empowering’ because she beats the Hell outta the dudes a couple of minutes later. That’s not a game I’m interested in playing. This is garbage.

The classical music over the beginnings of the Stuttgart attack is great.

All those German folks so confused by this Loki dude speaking English at them. What a tool.

I’m not sure I’ve ever heard ‘not today’ used as an effective badass declaration. It’s ALWAYS cheesy. Make it stop.

“There’s only one God, ma’am, and I’m pretty sure he doesn’t dress like that.” I don’t really like this line for Steve; he just doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who would play the ‘one true God’ card, and there was nothing in his origin story which implied that he’s particularly attached to religion at all; plus, he already read the brief on Thor, he knows this is literally the old Norse deity, there’s no question of whether or not they’re dealing with a God here. To argue the point (because he’s not MY God!) is meaningless in context, and feels like a weak attempt to correlate (Christian) faith with being ‘old-fashioned’, like OF COURSE Steve would defend the idea of the ‘one true God’, he’s from the past, not a cool enlightened atheist/agnostic modern man like the rest of us, right?

Thor and Loki are using such archaic phrasing, when Tony makes his ‘Shakespeare in the Park’ joke, it’s...more an observation than a quip. The Asgardians were not half as stuffy in Thor. It makes it seem like someone didn’t bother to see that movie first before writing their version of the characters.

Thor has to fight with the others when he shows up. He’s just gotta.

Gotta give a nod to Mark Ruffalo’s work here; I feel like I can see the clear comparison between his version of the character and Edward Norton’s in The Incredible Hulk, but at the same time there’s no sense of this being a Norton’s-Banner impression. Ruffalo is doing a sweet job of making the character his own without totally overhauling the template Norton laid down, and I dig it.

Oh, here we are. Loki calls Black Widow a ‘mewling quim’, which is just a fancy way of calling her a whiny cunt. Your gendered slur is still a gendered slur, movie.

I know they’re playing the idea that the sceptre is causing the antagonism between the characters, but fuck, it’s tedious. It just feels like they’re all contrived petty versions of themselves, being shitty because it’s ~dramatic~ for them to not get along.

I didn’t see this movie until months after it was released, and people were raving about how crushed they were by the major character death in the film but they were doing a pretty good job of not spoiling it; good enough that for a moment, I really thought I’d get to enjoy the surprise/horror for myself. You know who spoiled it for me? In a tweet, no less? It was the 44th President of the United States. Thanks, Obama.

This guy is the MVP of this film:

You can chalk “Son, just don’t,” up on the list of Things Steve Rogers Would Not Say. Just because he’s technically in his nineties doesn’t mean he isn’t still in his twenties in his mind: I don’t buy that he’d go for a blithely patriarchal term like ‘son’, it seems like another poorly-considered attempt to make him sound old-fashioned. Juxtapose that with ‘just don’t’, which is very modern vernacular. It might seem clever to combine the two as a meta-expression of Steve belonging to two different times now, but in practical application it just sounds out-of-character, and there’s nothing clever about that.

I know I said after the last movie that I love it when someone gets hit and flies off-screen in an exaggerated fashion, but Hulk punching Thor off-screen after they finish working together to take down the big beastie is an exception, because there’s no reason for Hulk to decide to hit Thor in the first place, it’s just a gag for the sake of a gag. I can’t believe they messed up such a simple pleasure.

I will forgive it, in return for Hulk smashing Loki all over the place. That was funny.

Back when this movie came out, before I saw it, I had people tell me - straight-faced, totally sincere - that it was one of the best movies they had ever seen. The internet was on fire with Avengers love. The film was rated in the IMDb Top 20. Admittedly, that all sets a pretty impossible standard for a movie to meet, and being at least a little disappointed in the result is probably a given. I was not particularly invested either way (I didn’t fall down the Marvel rabbit hole until later), so I didn’t allow myself to go in to my first viewing with such lofty expectations to be crushed, just the general assumption that this was gonna be good, it had to be good, at minimum. And it was that; it’s a good film. It’s entertaining. The plot makes basic essential sense. It’s easy to follow. There are some nice visuals, and most of the special effects are relatively clean, which can be a significant difficulty for big-budget extravaganzas that sometimes/often try to get way too much spectacle bang for their buck, so, a nice win. All in all, The Avengers is not a bad film. Sure is a bland one, though.

I know, I know, getting all these big-name characters from previous films together in one movie was a serious task and it’s hard to write a well-balanced script for so many leads, blah blah. Let’s put that whole equivocation to bed right now, because I honestly don’t think that balancing the big-name cast was the problem. All of the characters had something to do, no one felt like a random extra, I could quibble about certain places where I really wish things had been plumped up a bit (pretty much everywhere - the film is extremely low on meaningful character beats), but ultimately the characters are fairly evenly presented. What makes this movie bland to me is 1) the way that the personalities of the characters deviate from that established in their previous films, and 2) the simplicity of the story they inhabit.

We’ll cover the Avengers themselves first: the good news is, Tony Stark is still Tony Stark. His personality is intact. Bruce Banner is, as noted, not exactly the Bruce Banner we met back in The Incredible Hulk, but that’s both a given and a good thing - the casting change is an improvement. Hawkeye was barely in the MCU previously, so we don’t really have enough to compare him against in order to make a judgment. Black Widow, however, is a bit of a mess; Joss Whedon’s special brand of misogyny is on display from moment one, as noted above (he LOVES writing women being brutalised because ‘how would we know/believe that they’re strong if we don’t get to see them overcoming mistreatment?’ - he tends not to feel the need to ‘prove’ his male characters’ strengths in this way), and Natasha’s personal story for the movie continues in a distinctly gendered vein: as is common for female characters being written by shitty dudes, her arc revolves predominantly around a man (Hawkeye), and she is ‘emotionally compromised’ by her attachment to him. She also zones out in the middle of an action scene and winds up in a corner shaking and traumatised (very out-of-character for a super spysassin), and particular emphasis is placed on all the bad things she’s done in the past and how she should feel bad about it, though no one does more than shrug their shoulders about Clint or Fury or any of the other SHIELD agents who are acknowledged as having dark and dirty pasts. Why is Natasha the one who is singled out to have her morality judged while her ‘arc’ focuses on her inconvenient emotional engagement? You know why. There’s no reason why this particular tack had to be taken in bringing her backstory into the film, and as a result of it we spend little time with Black Widow displaying the kind of cool professionalism and self-assurance she had in Iron Man 2. The inclusion of that vulnerability and backstory doesn’t make her feel more rounded or complicated because it is deconstructing the power and mastery of the character; rather than building upon the foundation set in her previous film visit, we’re questioning the stability of that foundation and seeing if we can get a few pieces of the structure to rattle loose.

A big part of the trouble for Thor is that he gets saddled with that poxy Ye Olde Cliche dialogue, and there are few things worse for achieving character consistency than changing the way that they talk: no matter how hard the actor tries to play the character the same, they can’t compensate for the fact that the very structure of their sentences has been remodeled. They can improvise rephrasing the lines and/or argue the point if they want, but it’s hard to challenge every line, and if the director (who, oh look, is also the writer) insists you follow the script verbatim, there’s not a lot you can do with that. Poor Captain America suffers the same fate with the overt attempts to make him sound ‘old-fashioned’ by having him utter words and phrases that he never used in his origin movie. What’s worse is, this stilted dialogue is pretty much the sum total of the film’s acknowledgment of the fact that, oh yeah, Steve just recently woke up from the ice to find that seventy years has passed and nearly everyone and everything he used to know is gone. He has an exchange with Fury in his first scene, about ‘getting back in the world’, but there’s zero follow-up on how he’s handling it, what difficulties there might be, or even just how Steve is feeling about all of this on a basic emotional level. And yes, I am aware that there’s a deleted montage of Steve going about his day being isolated and out-of-touch, and it’s a travesty that they cut it because that’s essential character content, but it’s also a total bare minimum which has zero follow-up. Steve Rogers spends the whole film just being...there, speaking lines that don’t suit him or reflect the personality we just saw in The First Avenger, and not even in an understandable character-development ‘throwing myself into my work to hide from the pain’ kind of way. He’s kinda blandly self-righteous and all-business no-pleasure in exactly the way he was NOT in his origin movie; my impression is that Whedon doesn’t care for the character and wrote him off as the traditional patriotic cliche one might have expected him to be instead of the nuanced character that he actually is. As with Thor and Loki, it feels as if Whedon didn’t bother to watch the previous movies first in order to get a sense of the established characters.

Speaking of Loki: if there’s one character who really, REALLY suffered a personality change in this script, it’s him. None of what made Loki the highlight of Thor is in evidence here; where that character was a cunning plotter full to overflowing with complex and contradictory feelings for his family and driven to action by that same emotional cascade, this Loki...wants to rule the Earth. Because. He’s, like, crazy, the other characters all say so, even Thor - the only one who actually knows Loki and is fit to assess his mental state - says that his ‘mind is far astray’ (what Thor thinks of that, whether he’s surprised or concerned, whether he feels like he understands why this has happened to Loki or not, is unclear, because, I dunno, Thor having feelings is as inconvenient to the story as Steve having feelings - as Loki snarls derisively about ‘sentiment’, we must remember that being emotionally compromised is dumb and only for women? Hmm). Loki is just a placeholder villain in this film, driven to action by nothing in particular, it’s just a business arrangement with a mysterious third party that coincidentally happens to involve Earth. Loki prattles and hollers a lot about how ruling is his right and people want to be ruled and blah despot blah, and it’s both supremely uninspired, and not true to the character we met in Thor at all - the Loki we know was not obsessed with ruling, his motivations were all about his family standing and the things he was denied within those relationships and their implications. I remember fandom, back when this movie came out, scrambling with various headcanons about Loki losing his mind in the void or being brainwashed, ad nauseum, because no one really seemed to feel like they were watching a logical progression of the same character at all.

Now, one of the main ways that the lack of character consistency contributes to narrative blandness is that it disrupts narrative immersion - we’re re-negotiating the way that we engage with the characters, and that distracts from engaging with the story itself. At worst, we may even find ourselves cynical about every decision that a character makes (whether it’s in-character or not), because we’re too aware of the man behind the curtain to buy the act. There are definite shades of that in this film, but the worst of it comes from the whole team-antagonism schtick that is vaguely blamed on ‘Loki’s manipulations’ and the sceptre. The thing is, this all requires the characters to behave out-of-character, and since they mostly already are out-of-character due to bad writing, the exacerbation of that by creating artificial conflict feels like more bad writing, not actual plot. Having the characters initially get along poorly before triumphantly uniting to win the day is such an overused device, it’s easy to construe the conflict as arbitrary, and as it turns out...it is. Loki/the sceptre causing the Avengers to argue doesn’t actually impact the narrative in any meaningful way, since they don’t start a fight or fracture over it, it doesn’t slow down Tony’s efforts to learn what Fury is really up to, nor does it prevent Steve from investigating the same thing in person. Them conflicting with Fury and questioning their decision to work with SHIELD, etc, is a normal thing to have an argument about, no magic-mind-stick required; the only mileage the movie really gets out of the forced-conflict ploy is that Steve and Tony keep pissing on each other, which is extremely OOC for nice-guy Steve and WOULD throw up a big red flag for mental manipulations if the movie weren’t already misrepresenting him as an insufferable stick in the mud anyway, and even for Tony it feels off - he’s generally a jerk as a rule, but he doesn’t pick unprovoked fights - but again, when the movie is already so left-of-centre on so many characters everyone feels off, so it’s easy to assume the characters are just falling victim to contrived drama, and not something in the actual story. As noted, it doesn’t end up mattering where the conflict comes from anyway; the bad news is, it takes until the halfway point of the Goddamn movie before the characters get their prescribed ‘rough patch’ out of the way. The fact that they were just being really annoying for no real reason and without narrative consequence kinda steps on the idea of it being ‘triumphant’ when they all come together at the end to fight Loki, because there was zero reason for the audience to ever legitimately doubt that it would happen, not even in a begrudging-putting-this-genuine-disagreement-aside-so-that-we-can-save-the-world kind of way. It’s just dead air with no weight behind it, and with characters reduced to such cliche versions of themselves that it’s hard to muster the will to care.

AND SO, we have a movie which, as previously noted, is awfully damn simplistic. That’s not a terrible thing, in and of itself - it’s all about what you do with an idea, and I would posit that a more complicated plot wouldn’t be a great idea here since there are so many primary moving parts in the form of characters to justify. But, the aforementioned griping about the skewy characterisation makes this film a bad candidate for character-over-plot, and if the shenanigans are falling flat, that’s when simplistic plotting becomes a problem. It goes like this: Loki shows up and steals the magic cube (action ensues). The avengers assemble to catch Loki (action ensues). The characters argue on a helicarrier until Loki’s goons show up to wreck shit (action ensues). Loki escapes and goes to New York to use the magic cube to portal an alien army to Earth. Action ensues until the portal is closed and Loki is defeated. The end. I’m not complaining about the action - it’s a standard facet of the genre, and most of it is entertaining enough (though the unnecessary Thor/Iron Man fight I coulda done without, and the battle of New York runs a bit long) - but the plot itself is pretty point-A-to-B-to-C without much in the way of surprises, and like I said, that’s fine so long as you’re delivering in another arena, i.e. STRONG CHARACTER NARRATIVES. And character is sooo far from being this film’s strong suit. The result? Is not very compelling.

It tends to wind up that, by the time I get to the end of explaining why I think a thing didn’t work (and this is...the abridged version), it maybe seems ridiculous that I’m also saying ‘this thing isn’t that bad’. The truth is, there’s nothing that I think this movie does impressively well, and there are a lot of pretty major things that I think were poorly handled. BUT, I still meant what I said: it’s entertaining. It makes at least basic sense, and flows easily enough. And while I have serious issues with a lot of the characterisation and feel that - though balanced(ish) in handling - the plot failed to take real advantage of any of the character resources at its disposal (except maybe Tony), the actors still brought the goods to the table, and those whom I enjoyed in their previous films (I mean you, Chris Evans) didn’t disappoint, even though the material they were handling did. It’s a solid film, it’s good fun, I don’t regret watching it, and while I am irritated by various aspects, I don’t feel the need to keep ranting about them. And hey; Mark Ruffalo is really very wonderful. They’ve got that going for them.

#The Avengers #MCU #Marvel Cinematic Universe #Bechdel Test #female representation #Avengers

20 notes · View notes

bythebigcoolingtower · 6 years

Text

I Wrote a Simpsons Script...

Over the last couple of months, when I’ve had time, I’ve tried to write something that was not only better than what’s currently being produced but could also find a place lower down the seasons. I don’t think I’ve been successful but I thought I’d share my endeavors for an important reason: It made me realize how hard coming up with an idea, writing and editing a script for a cartoon was. For some background, I write scripts for films part time and try to sell them, so far (obviously, because I wouldn't shut up about it if I had) I’ve not been able too (partly because it’s tough to sell scripts in England and partly because I don’t have the money/time/resources to make them independently) but I do have some experience in shaping a narrative, the structure of scripts and other techniques, so I’ve not walked into this blind. Whether it’s good or not is your opinion, seriously, feel free to criticize it, if you think it’s bad, tell me, I’m a grown man, I can take criticism. If you like it, that’s allowed too, but the main question is this: What season do you think it’d fit into?

Be warned, it’s 30 pages on Word so it’s a long read, it’s your choice, you don’t have to. For reference: Italics are description, bold is who’s talking, normal is dialogue, (Beside name is ‘Off Screen’, under name is the way the line is delivered).

(Disclaimer: I obviously don’t own the rights to the Simpsons, this is a non-profit idea and simply a writing exercise to keep me amused, so I believe it falls within fair use, please don’t sue! If you want me to take it down, I will.)

OPENING CREDITS

COUCH GAG: The family sit on the couch, Maggie is a baby’s bottle, Lisa a plastic cup, Bart a glass, Marge a wine glass and Homer a beer mug. They are then filled with drink, Maggie with milk, Lisa with orange juice, Bart with Buzz cola, Marge with Wine and Homer with Duff.

EXT. CHARITY FUN FAIR – DAY

We move down from a clear blue sky past a sign, ‘CHARITY FUN FAIR: WHERE ONLY THE CHAIRTY IS OBLIGATORY’, down into the park which has been taken over by various things.

There’s a puppet show, some games and a stage. It all looks very cost effective, as if they wanted to bare minimum to maximize profits.

Walking around are the Simpson’s, looking a bit bored, except Marge who’s seems disappointed. Lisa holds a brochure about the fair.

MARGE

Fifteen dollars for cotton candy, what charity would charge such high prices?

Lisa consults the brochure.

LISA

‘Quimby retirement homes’.

(she reads more)

He wants a place in Tobago.

BART

I thought he already embezzled funds for that?

LISA

No that was for his golf club membership in Bermuda.

HOMER

(wistful)

I wish I could retire.

BART

What’s stopping you?

HOMER

Burns had us sign contracts in perpetuity in exchange for a second ice machine.

STAGE, CHARITY FUN FAIR – LATER

Quimby is on stage, along with a few others, and has a big smile on his face. Something sits under a sheet on a table beside him. He approaches the microphone to address the crowd, which includes the Simpsons.

QUIMBY

Thank you ladies and gentleman for your tremendous charity. I’m one step closer to getting a holiday home in Trinidad.

There’s scattered applause, murmurs. Quimby doesn’t care, carries on as an assistant walks over with a bucket.

QUIMBY

To show my appreciation I will now draw a winner from this bucket of parking tickets, that’s worth more than the prize in question, this-

Quimby unveils the prize, a toaster oven, has to be told by his assistant what it is.

QUIMBY

Toaster oven, I didn’t want as a gift.

No applause this time, just coughs and confused looks. Quimby draws a ticket.

QUIMBY

Marge Simpson.

The family react with little enthusiasm. Scattershot applause as they move up onto the stage.

QUIMBY

(to Lisa)

Congratulations, Marge.

He shakes Lisa’s hand, she can’t be bothered to tell him, it’s over quickly enough.

QUIMBY

(to his Assistant)

Bundle the cash, my flight leaves in an hour.

Quimby and his assistant leave, the stage is vacated by all but the Simpsons and a reporter, TOM, 20′s, The crowd disperses.

TOM

This is headline stuff, can I get a quote?

LISA

This is your headline? I thought you reported on real news, like your stories on the upcoming winter.

TOM

That was a Game of Thrones review.

LISA

Oh.

TOM

We haven’t printed a real news story since the town got high speed broadband. No one reads the paper anymore.

MARGE

Well, it would be nice to be named in the paper in a context other than: “we apologize for erroneously reporting the death of Homer Simpson”.

TOM

(to Homer)

Oh hey, I thought you looked familiar.

HOMER

Can you print a different picture of me this time? That old one makes me look fat, I’m portly.

TOM

Sure, we’ll send our new guy round later.

LISA

I thought Fred was your photographer?

TOM

He was until 7/11 poached him. They offered him something we couldn’t.

BART

Job satisfaction?

TOM

A wage.

(pause)

Oh and that.

INT. DINING ROOM, SIMPSON HOUSE – NIGHT

The family are sat around the table eating.

HOMER

This is great pasta honey.

MARGE

It’s Shepard’s pie.

HOMER

Do you want the compliment or not?

Moe enters, camera in hand.

MOE

Hey everyone.

HOMER

Hey Moe-

(sees camera)

Are you the Shoppers new photographer?

Moe looks around, stutters.

MOE

Uh... yeah... I sure am.

LISA

How did you get in?

Moe panics slightly.

MOE

Gather round, picture time.

There’s a knock on the door.

MARGE

I should get that.

Marge walks past Moe, who stands awkwardly at the top of the room, to the front door.

DOOR

Marge opens the door to CLIVE BREWER, 38, average looking, gentle.

CLIVE

I’m Clive Brewer, from the Shopper.

MARGE

If your-

Marge turns right to find Moe has gone, then left to see an open window at the back of the living room.

MARGE

Never mind. Please, come in.

DINING ROOM

Marge shuts the front door and walks Clive into the room, then sits back down.

CLIVE

Hi, it’s nice to meet you all. I thought it’d be good to have the toaster oven in the picture.

HOMER

The what?

CLIVE

The prize you won.

Nothing, the family don’t remember it.

CLIVE

Earlier today.

Nope.

CLIVE

It’s the reason I’m here.

HOMER

You should probably just take the picture.

CLIVE

Alright, big smiles.

The family bunch up, Clive takes the picture.

THE SPRINGFIELD SHOPPER

HEADLINE: LOCAL FAMILY FILLS PICTURE SPACE

SUB STORY: FRED PROMOTED TO ASSISTANT MANAGER

INT. GROCERY STORE – THE NEXT DAY (MORNING)

The family are out shopping, Marge reads the newspaper, very proud that they’re on the front.

MARGE

What a great picture, we’ll have to ask Clive for a copy, he’s so talented and nice.

HOMER

Pfft, he’s no nicer than me, Carl, Lenny or Moe.

MARGE

Last week you told me Moe throw a mug at you.

HOMER

(laughs)

Oh, honey, that was only because I hit Lenny in the head with a pool cue to stop him biting Carl after he’d bruised Lenny’s arm in Moe’s annual pain Olympics.

Marge stares at him, doesn’t like any of that.

EXT. SPRINGFIELD SHOPPER – LATER ON

The shopper is housed in a wide, one storey building, Marge’s station wagon is parked outside.

INT. FOYER, SPRINGFIELD SHOPPER – SAME TIME

Marge carries Maggie with her as she stands at the reception desk, a woman, FELICITY, walks over to her.

FELICITY

Hi, can I help?

MARGE

I was looking for Clive Brewer, the photographer?

FELICITY

He should be at his desk. We can look after your baby while you talk to him. We’re running a day care to add a little extra cash until our readership picks up.

MARGE

You are? I didn’t know that?

FELICITY

You didn’t? We advertise it all the time-

(pause)

Oh.

OFFICE – MOMENTS LATER

Marge enters what should be a loud bustling office, full of journalists and writers, but instead finds around twenty very unenthusiastic employees, mainly students, not doing much at all.

Clive stands out like a sore thumb, not least because he’s stationed by a window with the sun is beaming through it.

Marge walks over, Clive sees her, smiles.

CLIVE

Marge, hi, I assume you’re here because we referred to Homer as a “buffoon” in the article.

MARGE

Well, he is really more of an oaf but I was actually hoping I could get a copy of the picture you took. It’d be nice to have one were Homer isn’t giving the kids rabbit ears.

She takes out her phone, opens up the picture folder and shows Clive several photo’s as she’s described. The shadow on the wall behind the kids makes them look like characters from ‘Life in Hell’.

MARGE

I just don’t get why people find it funny.

Clive laughs. Stops when he really hears what Marge said.

CLIVE

Sure, I’ll print you off a copy.

Tom, walking past at the time, overhears the conversation.

TOM

The printer here doesn’t work.

CLIVE

It doesn’t?

TOM

No, wasn’t this explained when you were given the tour?

CLIVE

I was supposed to have had a tour?

Tom looks around.

TOM

(covering)

No.

He walks off. Clive sighs.

CLIVE

I guess I can’t print you off a copy.

Marge can see his disappointment, smiles trying to perk him up.

MARGE

Don’t worry, we have a printer a home, you can bring the picture there.

CLIVE

(trying)

Sounds like a plan.

EXT. PARK – THE SAME TIME

Bart, Lisa and an annoyed looking Homer walk around the park, it’s barely been cleaned since yesterday, or the days before that.

HOMER

How many days do I have to do this for?

LISA

Dr. Hibbert said you need to walk for at least an hour a day for the next three months.

HOMER

Three months! What’s the point?

LISA

(concerned)

Dad, he said in your condition you could die at any moment.

HOMER

(grumbling)

That can’t come soon enough.

Lisa gives him an off look, concerned but confused as to whether Homer actually understands.

BART

Why am I here?

LISA

You were supposed to be walking Santa’s Little Helper.

BART

Oh, yeah.

(pause)

I’m sure he’s getting plenty of fresh air.

CUT TO: The basement of the Simpson house, pitch black, SLH barking incessantly.

BACK TO: Homer and the kids walking, Lisa now concerned by the amount of rubbish about.

LISA

Did they even bother cleaning up from yesterday?

They pass a crumpled sign: 2017 CHARITY DRIVE. QUIMBY WANTS A PORSCHE.

LISA

Or last year?

HOMER

Lisa, fly tipping is a part of nature, ever since the caveman.

LISA

It’s destroying the natural environment of the animals.

BART

Looks like there adapting to it.

We pan across the rubbish, which the animals are using, including a family of raccoons operating the toaster oven.

LISA

Well, it’s not right, animals deserve to live with the same rights as us, nature deserves to flourish and not be cluttered by plastics that should be being recycled. I’m going to start a group to clean this place up.

Homer gets down to Lisa’s level, puts his hand on her shoulder to calm her.

HOMER

Lisa, is this the type of thing were you ask me to join and I keep saying no and you just keep asking and interrupting while I’m trying to drink beer and watch TV, until I eventually cave?

LISA

(shyly)

Yes.

HOMER

Then consider me in.

INT. KITCHEN, SIMPSON HOUSE – A LITTLE LATER

Marge carries Maggie into the kitchen, leading Clive through with her.

She puts Maggie in the high chair.

MARGE

Take a seat, I think the printer’s in the basement.

Clive takes a seat at the table, takes his bag off as he sits, from that he takes out his laptop and opens it on the table.

Marge walks to the basement door, opens it, SLH rushes out.

MARGE

Hmmm.

She disappears downstairs. Clive begins clicking through his laptop, trying to find the image.

He goes through various folders, opens one that he hadn’t meant too, it’s full of beautiful shots, landscapes of parks, woods and forests.

Clive opens one, a melancholic look upon his face. Maggie begins laughing.

Turning, Clive sees that it’s the picture Maggie is amused by.

CLIVE

You like it huh?

(pause)

Yeah, it’s alright.

Marge can be heard coming back up.

CLIVE

Let’s just keep it between us.

He backs out of the folder, Maggie stops laughing.

Marge re-enters, carrying a really old looking printer.

MARGE

Here we go. We only use it when Lisa wants to print out protest leaflets. Luckily she’s boycotting paper right now.

CLIVE

I’m sure it’ll work fine.

Marge puts it on the top, plugs it in, it comes on immediately. She hands Maggie the bottle she’s reaching for.

CLIVE

It’s connected. Here-

From his bag Clive takes a ream of paper, hands it to Marge.

MARGE

Do you always carry so much paper?

CLIVE

Oh, I took it from the office.

(pause)

I mean, there not actually paying me.

Marge shrugs, puts the paper in. Clive clicks on the picture, selects print, the process begins immediately.

He backs out of the folder, leaving him on the page with all the folders on.

Quickly the picture prints, Marge is very pleased with it.

MARGE

What a great shot. You really do have a talent.

Clive is non committal, modest.

CLIVE

Maybe.

MARGE

I’ve got the perfect frame for it too, hold there.

Marge leaves Clive sat with Maggie again, she sees the situation, ‘accidentally’ drops her bottle on the laptop, the printer starts up again.

Clive turns, looks panicked once he sees that it’s printing the pictures from earlier.

CLIVE

What are the odds?

One after another they print, Clive tries to grab them as quickly as he can, to hide them but can’t. Maggie laughs.

MARGE (O.S)

It fits perfectly.

Marge enters to see Clive stuffing a couple of the printed pictures into the toaster, she looks suspiciously at him, wondering what he’s up to.

At that moment the printer jams. The final fully printed picture flies out, lands at Marge’s feet.

Putting down the family portrait, she picks up the printed picture, a glorious shot of the early evening.

MARGE

Clive, did you take this.

Clive looks embarrassed, by both his actions and Marge seeing his work.

CLIVE

(nervous)

Yeah.

MARGE

It’s so expressive-

She moves around, fishes another from the oven.

MARGE

They all are. Why would you hide them?

CLIVE

I guess because they remind me of what I had, lost.

MARGE

Please, sit down, tell me.

Clive takes one of the pictures from the toaster, gives it to Maggie, then sits down.

INT. GYM, SCHOOL – 30 YEARS EARLIER

An eight year old Clive sits on a stall.

CLIVE (O.S)

My passion for photography came from my dad.

A photographer stands behind an old camera, readies the shot, beside him is Clive’s dad, DANIEL BREWER, 36, taking multiple pictures.

CLIVE (O.S)

He was always taking pictures of me, the whole family.

MONTAGE - OVER THE FOLLOWING YEARS

Daniel takes pictures of Clive in the bathroom, sleeping, at school, playing sports, as he has his first kiss, first date and even through the window of his first ‘adult sleep over’.

CLIVE (O.S)

I just started doing the same.

Clive takes pictures of Daniel in the bathroom, sleeping, at work, watching sports on TV, watching Clive play sports whilst Clive plays and while Daniel is taking pictures of Clive.

MARGE (O.S)

Are you two still close?

CLIVE (O.S)

We haven’t been close for a while.

EXT. TRAIN TRACKS – DAY, 20 YEARS AGO

Daniel stands in the middle of the tracks, camera ready.

CLIVE (O.S)

He was trying to take a picture of the front of a train.

A train can be heard approaching, Daniel takes his stance.

The train approaches from behind Daniel.

EXT. FUNERAL, CEMETERY – A COUPLE WEEKS LATER

Daniel’s headstone is a camera, his picture is a picture of him taking a picture of the picture taker, presumably Clive.

The family weeps in sadness, as does a now eighteen year old Clive. Still, he continues to take pictures.

CLIVE (O.S)

After that I vowed to take my time in my work and for a while that went well.

INT. HIGH END MAGAZINE COMPANY – TEN YEARS LATER

A happy Clive, now twenty eight, shows off the negatives of his work to his boss, MR. HARTFORD, 44.

He gets the thumbs up, which he takes a picture of.

CLIVE (O.S)

But it didn’t last, with smart phones, people wanted shots quicker and I just didn’t work fast enough.

EXT. TOWN SQUARE – TIME LAPSE, OVER 12 HOURS

Clive arrives in the empty town square to take a picture of a new sculpture, he takes his stance and waits.

Over the course of the next twelve hours, hundreds of photographers, selfie taking tourists and interested locals take pictures.

There’s also a protest about the statue, people with banners and plaques turn up, then the police arrive to stop them, there’s a conversation and then the police join in with the protesters.

Lastly a work crew turns up and removes the statue, Clive is alone again, finally takes the picture.

INT. KITCHEN, SIMPSON HOUSE – THIRTY MINUTES LATER

Marge has sat and listened, she and Clive have also drunk coffee in the interim. Maggie is asleep, holding the picture Clive gave her.

CLIVE

Eventually the work began to dry up, now I’m wherever here is, taking pictures for nothing.

MARGE

Clive, I’m so sorry.

He sits upset, but he’s been like this for a while so it’s almost normal to him.

CLIVE

It’s not the work or money I miss, it’s the feeling. That passion I used to have when I was an eight year old, like there was nothing more important.

(sigh)

I wish I could capture that again.

HALLWAY – AT THAT MOMENT

The door bursts open, an impassioned Lisa enters as SLH bolts out the house.

LISA

(loud, excitable)

Mom, get the printer, were making flyers!

EXT. PARK – TWO DAYS LATER (MORNING)

Lisa has organized an impressive line-up, along with the family, her and Bart’s school classes, Skinner, Willie and Grampa, Jasper and the old Jewish man. Each has a rubbish picker, bag and hi-vis jacket.

Skinner looks annoyed and anxious, walks over to Lisa, who’s reading through her to-do list.

SKINNER

Exactly how many more favors does the school owe you? I feel this is bordering on absurd, especially since you already hijacked the band to play for sick children at the hospital.

LISA

Your right, maybe I have been abusing my power.

Skinner relaxes, but Lisa isn’t done.

LISA

Although I’m quite sure the building shouldn’t be held together with driftwood and crazy glue.

All Skinner’s good thoughts have gone, he groans.

SKINNER

Young lady, I’d like to see you run a school on two hundred and seventy five dollars a month without resorting to crazy glue and criminality.

LATER ON THAT DAY

Everyone is picking rubbish up, rather un-enthusiastically, but slowly the park is looking a little better.

Sat under a tree, watching, is Clive he eats a toasted sandwich. Marge walks over to him.

MARGE

Clive-

(sees the sandwich)

Where’d you get that?

CLIVE

A raccoon gave it too me.

MARGE

Oh.

(pause)

Is any of this inspiring you?

CLIVE

It’s great to watch your daughter care so much about nature and boss around her principal but it feels like something’s missing, I can’t put my finger on it.

Lisa, seeing Marge and Clive talking, has come over.

LISA

Mr. Brewer, maybe joining in will inspire you, being involved with the experience.

Clive stands up, sandwich in hand.

CLIVE

Your right, it’d certainly be more helpful than me just sitting around. Hand me a stick.

In comes a stick, held by Homer, his bag and jacket in the other hand.

HOMER

Have mine.

Clive takes it, Homer runs off, drops the rest of his stuff.

LISA

Dad!

He walks back to Lisa.

HOMER

Lisa, honey, I wouldn’t leave unless it was very important.

LISA

But-

Homer snatches Clive’s sandwich-

HOMER

Yoink!

Then runs off.

CUT TO: Close up, Homer, moments later. He laughs to himself.

HOMER

Got away clean.

He looks around, finds he’s back in the park, gear on. He stares at his legs, accusingly.

HOMER

(to his legs)

I said go to Moe!

Homer looks back up, finds Moe stood there, in full gear.

HOMER

Moe!

(confused)

What are you doing here?

Moe laughs, looks away, remembering.

MOE

Well, you remember the other day, when I was in your house?

He looks back to Homer, who’s gone, his stuff on the floor.

Moe sighs, looks away, finds Homer stood the other side of him, chastising his legs, he looks up.

HOMER

Moe!

(confused)

What are you doing here?

TIME LAPSE – OVER THE NEXT FEW HOURS

Lisa, Clive and the rest pick up what rubbish they can, but it’s a losing battle.

First the other kids leave at three o’clock with the school day over, then the old folks at four being called back for bedtime, then Skinner and Willie leave.

Now with only Clive and the family they face other residents openly fly tipping as they clean up. For everything cleaned three more things are dropped.

It hits early evening, everyone bar Lisa is exhausted.

7:10PM

Maggie is asleep on Marge’s shoulder, even she is yawning.

MARGE

Lisa, I think we should stop for today, we need food and rest. We’ll come back tomorrow.

Lisa puts another can in the bag, knows that Marge is right but has a hard time accepting it.

LISA

(sadly)

But we aren’t even close to half way done and Clive-

She looks across the park, to the tree Clive was sat under earlier, where he is now, grabbing his stuff.

MARGE

It’ll be better tomorrow.

Lisa well’s up.

LISA

But if we don’t do the work today, there won’t be a tomorrow.

In goes another can, her bag splits, the rubbish falls out and she bursts into tears.

The family stand, as sad as Lisa but unable to help her.

From the tree Clive can hear Lisa, he turns and sees her, his eyes ache over her pain, he can feel his own, the rejection, the loss of his father, in the pit of his stomach.

Grabbing his camera, Clive steels up, he aims and takes a picture.

INT. OFFICE, SPRINGFIELD SHOPPER – LATER THAT NIGHT

ON THE COMPUTER SCREEN: The picture of Lisa crying, rubbish at her feet, family beside her. The headline reads: TOWN MUST CLEAN UP ACT.

Alone, Clive writes the story himself.

PRINTING ROOM – LATER

The paper runs through the machines, Clive snaps the process.

At the end of the process, the papers are bundled, Clive snaps it.

INT. BACK OF VAN – EARLY MORNING

Paperboys throw bundles of the paper onto the street for waiting sellers, Clive is in the van handing the papers to them and, of course, taking pictures as he does.

EXT. STREET – MORNING

A young paperboy rides his bike quickly, throwing papers to the doors.

Behind him Clive runs, struggling to keep up and take pictures at the same time.

INT. BEDROOM, CLIVE’S APARTMENT – A LITTLE LATER

Clive sleeps, exhausted, his finger on the resting on the button of his camera which faces him.

INT. LISA’S ROOM, SIMPSON HOUSE – 7:30AM

Marge is waking Lisa up, but Lisa is reluctant.

LISA

(sleepy)

Do I have to get up?

MARGE

No, honey but at least read the paper first.

This intrigues Lisa, she gets up fully and is handed the paper by Marge.

Her eyes light up seeing the headline and picture she reads the story below. The sub headline is: FRED FIRED. PAGES 3-12.

LISA

Do you think it made a difference?

MARGE

I wouldn’t have woke you up if it hadn’t.

EXT. PARK – 9AM

The whole town, inspired by the picture or perhaps feeling really guilty for making an eight year old cry, are out picking up rubbish.

Lisa watches over them, helping herself.

Clive enters the park, having just got back up, Lisa spots him immediately.

LISA

Oh Clive, thank you!

She gives Clive a hug, he half smiles, a little embarrassed.

CLIVE

Wow, I didn’t think it would have so much of an impact.

LISA

Then why did you do it?

CLIVE

Because I didn’t want you to give up, I wanted you to keep that passion, that fight that I lost.

LISA

Do you think you’ll rediscover yours?

CLIVE

Maybe in time, but right now I want to take pictures to show what can be achieved with a passionate spirit.

PICTURE MONTAGE – OVER THE REST OF THE DAY

We start with a picture of Lisa stood in front of a large group of helpers. Lisa working within that group.

Moe, Homer and the other barflies picking up cans and bottle’s of beer.

Skinner picking up bricks. Skinner putting the bricks in his car.

Homer picking up the toaster oven. The raccoons fighting Homer for the toaster oven. Marge, Bart and Maggie helping Homer take the toaster oven. The raccoons crying.

Jimbo, Kearney and Dolph putting together a bin. Then putting Milhouse in the bin.

Shots of people cleaning, the park changing and eventually being clean.

Finally the whole town together in a photograph, in the background is a plane.

5PM

The town talks as it begins to disperse, rolling past the park is a black car, Quimby’s. The window rolls down.

INT. BACK, QUIMBY’S CAR – CONTINUOUS

Quimby, very well tanned, takes off his sunglasses to look at the scene in the park.

QUIMBY

Someone find out what’s happening.

One of his bodyguards exits the car.

Through the window we watch the bodyguard, who is dressed top half in a suit and bottom half in shorts and sandals from the holiday, walk over to Carl and talk to him. He walks back to the car, leans in at the window.

BODYGUARD

Apparently the town came together to clean the park and Lenny’s having an ice cream party, can we go?

QUIMBY

No you moron, but this park thing, that we can exploit.

(thinks)

How much money do we have left from the holiday?

BODYGUARD

Around three hundred dollars sir.

QUIMBY

Perfect.

EXT. SPRINGFIELD MUSEUM OF ART – THE NEXT NIGHT

Lit up and looking good the museum has a stream of patrons entering it.

ENTRANCE – SAME TIME

A doorman stands selling tickets, beside him there’s a sign:

TONIGHT – CLIVE BREWER EXHIBITION (ADULTS: $30, KIDS $20)

TOMORROW – PICTURES FROM YESTERDAYS EXHIBIT.

INT. MAIN, SPRINGFIELD MUSEUM OF ART – SAME TIME

Everyone in town is about, looking at the various pictures on the wall, a photographer, FRED, takes pictures of them.

Lisa stands looking at one of the pictures holding a program from the evening, Clive walks over to her.

CLIVE

What do you think?

LISA

They’re so good, I’m really impressed.

CLIVE

I’m glad you like them. Honestly I’ve never had a crowd this big for my work before, where’s the money going to?

Lisa consults the program.

LISA

It’s going to pay off Mayor Quimby’s tax bill.

CLIVE

Well, I would complain and say something like “if only you could clean up the corruption in the mayors office like you did the park”, but he did pay me two hundred dollars for tonight.

MAN (O.S)

How would you like to make twice that a year?

Clive turns. His old boss Mr. Hartford is stood there.

CLIVE

Mr. Hartford? What are you doing here?

MR. HARTFORD (MAN)

We were in town to do a story on small town mayoral corruption, until Mayor Quimby paid me fifty dollars not too. Then we saw the sign, figured we’d see your work.

CLIVE

And?

MR. HARTFORD

It’s impressive, so how about coming back on staff?

CLIVE

Last time we spoke you said as long your daughter had a smart phone you wouldn’t need me?

MR. HARTFORD

(laughing)

Yes, what a four years it’s been.

(serious)

Unfortunately Stephanie has gone from a cute twelve year old to a sullen sixteen year old.

Across the room STEPHANIE, 16, is sat on the floor, headphones on, in her own world.

MR. HARTFORD

The only pictures she takes now are of herself looking unhappy. I need a true photographer, I need you Clive.

CLIVE

Okay, but not for four hundred pound a year.

MR. HARTFORD

How about four hundred pounds a day?

CLIVE

Deal.

He almost snaps Mr. Hartford’s hand off shake on it, which Hartford doesn’t quite understand.

MR. HARTFORD

(thinking)

Did I say a day or a month?

LISA

A day.

MR. HARTFORD

Darn it.

(sighs)

Nevermind, I probably fire you in a couple weeks anyway, I fire everyone eventually.

Mr. Hartford walks off.

MR. HARTFORD (O.S)

Stephanie, you’re fired!

LISA

I guess this means you’re leaving?

CLIVE

If it’s any consolation I probably would have left anyway, the paper hired Fred back.

Fred walks over at the same time.

LISA

Are the rumours true, Fred?

FRED

(staunch)

No comment.

He takes a picture of Lisa and Clive, then leaves.

CLIVE

Thank you, Lisa. You’ve given me a taste of the passion I had for photography and a chance to have another go at making it into a career.

LISA

Well, thank you for helping me clean the park.

CLIVE

I have something to give you.

From his pocket Clive takes a picture, an image of train tracks, hands it to Lisa.

CLIVE

This is the last picture my dad ever took. I want you to have it.

LISA

Clive, I can’t take this.

CLIVE

Why not? It’s just a copy.

LISA

Oh.

QUIMBY (O.S)

Yes, alright now.

Lisa, Clive, and the rest of the patrons turn to see Quimby at a hastily set up mic stand.

QUIMBY

I’d like to welcome everyone, from art lovers to lovers of free food-

Cut to Homer holding two bowls of food that was supposed to be for everyone.

QUIMBY (CONT’D)

To this celebration of our town and it’s ‘do it anyway’ spirit. And now, welcome the man who took the pictures you see here tonight, without permission, Clive Brewer.

Clive looks surprised, walks over to the mic, applauded.

CLIVE

Wow, what a reception, but your applause should be for Lisa, she’s the one who inspired all of this.

He waves Lisa over, drops the mic stand to her size and moves away from it. She gets even greater applause.

LISA

I believe strongly that this town can be truly great if we all work together and to better ourselves each and every day.

She looks across to where Clive was, he’s gone, she looks back at the crowd, all of whom are fully engaged by her words.

Taking a deep breathe she continues on.

EXT. SPRINGFIELD MUSEUM OF ART – SAME TIME

Clive watches Lisa through the window, smiles, takes a picture of her, then moves on.

CREDITS

We see Clive’s journey back to his job, then his work on the job.

We end on three pictures. The first of the front of a train. The second the back end of that same train and the third a picture taken of Clive by a nurse as he lays in a full body cast in a hospital. Big smile on his face.

END

#The Simpsons #Not tall or wide

41 notes · View notes

hegagergerk · 6 years

Text

My reactions to The Last Jedi

I have mixed feelings about The Last Jedi. There are some aspects of it that I loved, but there was a lot that I really didn’t like. I’ve seen it twice, and each time I left the theater thinking, “Well. Huh. I don’t know what I feel.” I felt this uncertain about The Force Awakens, for comparison, but I left Rogue One knowing I liked it.

I also want it known that I am a fan of Rian Johnson and his work. I LOVE Brick, and Looper was pretty great. So I was pretty excited going into this film.

Perhaps, if this had been the first in a trilogy, I might be able to overlook the parts that I don’t like, as I did in The Force Awakens. But this is the second part - the meat of the story. And honestly, the whole thing felt gamey.

SPOILERS (and unpopular opinions) under the cut.

Pros:

It’s a beautifully shot, visually striking film.

Adam Driver shirtless

Adam Driver, period. Love that boy

I love what they’ve done with Luke (the grumpy old hermit schtick), and I loved what little time we spent on Ach-To. The location was beautiful, I loved the Caretakers and the Porgs, and I loved Luke’s take on the Force and the Jedi.

Rey Random is the best answer to her backstory and the explanation I was hoping for. I loved the mirror cave sequence. It’s an even better touch that not only were they random people, but they were awful and neglectful. Ouch. Didn’t think they’d go that far.

I love that Rey and Kylo want to fuck each other. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

I’m okay with Luke trying to murder Ben and then regretting it, even though I understand why many people are not. I actually really like the exploration of Luke’s character, and the digging into his personality flaws and weaknesses - namely, that he was prideful of his own legacy, which gave him several blind spots with regards to his nephew, and led to his biggest failure as a Jedi. It’s true - it is, initially, out of character, but I think this lapse in judgment was more horrifying to Luke himself for that very reason, and resolves for me, at least, why he would isolate himself like he does.

I liked Luke’s death. I liked that it’s hinted that he was ready to go, anyway, and he got to go out heroically in the end.

I LOVED Luke and Leia’s reunion. Oh my god. The tears. I just. Can’t get over it. Especially knowing that Carrie Fisher wrote that scene? Fuck me

Cons:

It feels like 3 different films crammed together into 2 ½ hours. One of these films, I very much wanted to watch, but was never given enough of (Rey’s story). Another of these films, I wanted to want to watch, but found myself losing interest as time wore on (Finn’s story). The remaining one - I could have done without entirely, and I ended up resenting completely by the film’s finish (Poe’s story).

Some of the humor worked, but a lot of it really didn’t - especially the gag about zapping dudes into walls at dramatic/semi-dramatic moments (Hux, Poe, and Finn). Granted, humor is pretty subjective, but for comparison, I either loved or had no issue with the humor in both The Force Awakens and Rogue One.

The preachy bits were REALLY. FUCKING. PREACHY. Like, dude, I agree with the points you’re making, but wow, I’d appreciate if you didn’t insult my intelligence by being so god damned ON THE NOSE about it. I thought this movie was about ~ambiguity~ And yes, I’m talking about the “don’t abuse animals”, “it’s a WAR MACHINE”, and “men don’t respect feminine women” thing. I felt like these moments were 4th-wall-breaking and did nothing to serve the story or the characters, not to mention being out of place in a Star Wars film (Star Wars is cheesy, but not THAT kind of cheesy).

Rey’s part of the story ends about 2/3 of the way in. After her battle with Kylo, she pretty much disappears from the narrative, only making a quick cameo at the end of the film. Seriously. The movie pretty much belongs to the male characters after she confronts Snoke.

Rey never truly suffers any lasting consequences for her choices, whether emotionally or physically. Compare this to Luke’s defeat by Vader in Empire, which leaves him physically maimed and emotionally broken and betrayed. Rey is sad when she admits the truth of her parentage, yeah, and she’s not happy when Kylo usurps the First Order command, but even if this betrayal devastates her, we don’t get to see her break down under these revelations. It might be hard for Rey to acknowledge her shitty parents, but does verbalizing this hinder Rey in any way? Does it introduce an obstacle that seems impossible to overcome? Is it truly her lowest point? Ask the same questions of Kylo becoming the Supreme Leader, with regard to Rey’s feelings. Is this betrayal on the level of Anakin to Padme? Hell, even on the level of Obi Wan to Luke? Rey wrestles with Kylo over the lightsaber, nopes the fuck out, and then magically appears on the Falcon, hollering jovially about how swashbuckling and fun it is to be gunning down the First Order. In other words, she feels like she’s had an easy time of it. We really needed a scene where she shows some emotional wounds - whether when Kylo is passed out and she’s about to leave him, perhaps looking down at him with longing and sorrow, deliberating on why she should, but can’t, kill him - or whether at the end, sharing pain with Leia. But it’s like her failures don’t touch her or her story.

I’m a huge Reylo stan, but I’ve got to be honest - Kylo and Rey’s dynamic, while easily the most intriguing thing about the movie, ended up being severely underwhelming. Four conversations, and then she’s ready to go-to-bat for him? When they were touching hands in the hut, I literally was like, “Wait. Is that it? Did I blink and miss something?” They chopped Reylo down to the barest minimum of relationship progression, leaving out a lot of story-telling beats that would have bridged the gap between their antagonism and their intimacy. I felt cheated out of their story, and I really wanted to be on board with them, considering their shared loneliness and character comparison/contrast was something I was extremely excited about going into this film. I’ve read one-shot fanfics with more elegant development than this film.

I’m NOT a Snoke stan, nor was I terribly interested in his backstory or in coming up with random ass theories involving his backstory, but damn. Snoke’s abrupt dismissal from the narrative, despite being an awesome scene in isolation, feels cheap retroactively, and I can empathize with the fans who feel let down about his meaningless identity (especially when they were taunted by LF for giving enough of a shit to come up with theories about said character). The truth is that, since the sequel trilogy takes place within an established universe - and Star Wars, at that - we, the audience ARE owed a bare minimum amount of explanation for Snoke’s existence, his power, and his goals. Where was he 30 years ago, when Palpatine was in power? If you can’t at least give me something, my suspension of disbelief is shattered. And no, it’s not my fucking job, as a member of the audience, to fill in the blanks with regards to basic storytelling. At this point, why the hell couldn’t Snoke have been Darth Plageius? Or Palpatine reborn? Or whoever the fuck. If any further context had been given to him, it could only have added some meat to the story - its not like this information would have detracted from Kylo’s killing of him (if anything, it would have made that moment even more awesome). I mean, you had to hold my hand about “evil arms dealers” and “animal rights” and “she wasn’t interested in LOOKING like a hero”, but you can’t give me some damn context for Snoke? And no, I don’t give a fuck that Palpatine had no backstory in the original movies - right, we knew everything we needed to know about him, which was that he was a super powerful Force-wielder who took control of the galaxy. I wasn’t wondering, “Hmm, I wonder where that other super evil bad guy was 30 years ago while he was coming to power!” about Palpatine, because there was no frame of reference for that - and now, with the prequel trilogy, there’s definitely no need. But hey, for Snoke? Yes. Yes, that sort of information is relevant here. Even your most basic bitch casual fan left The Force Awakens wondering, “I wonder what that Snoke guy, who is most certainly older than 30 years of age, was doing three decades ago?”

Finn’s whole story was underwhelming, as much as I liked both he and Rose together. Nothing of consequence came of their story, whether by plot movement or emotional revelations - save that he decided, somewhat sloppily, to die for the Resistance (because he didn’t want to be an apathetic asshole like DJ, or whatever), only to have his choice undermined at the last minute. Nothing about his arc resonated with me. Perhaps because there just wasn’t enough time devoted to him? As much as I hate the whole “Finn is always sidelined uwuwuwu” discourse, I have to agree with them here. Furthermore, I feel like his prior-stormtrooper-ness is totally irrelevant to the portrayal of his character? It was bad enough in The Force Awakens that he didn’t seem affected by having to kill his fellow stormtroopers, and it has continued to be irrelevant in The Last Jedi. I was really hoping for some sort of moment where he and Rose connected over the deaths of Paige and his stormtrooper brethren, people killed while fighting in militaries, whether by choice or by force. This personal soul searching would have been much more poignant than the preachy babble (none with which I disagree, let it be noted) we got. I mean, the revelation that the Resistance and the First Order both get supplied from the same people who vacation on Canto Bight doesn’t really add anything - stakes, revelation, dimension - to the actual story. Like, do I suddenly not care about the Resistance getting blown out of the sky? Should I actually root for the First Order to wipe them out, so that the war will stop? Does this information seriously tempt Finn away from the whole stupid conflict? Does it change ANYTHING for ANYONE? (Hint: It doesn’t).

I absolutely hate that Poe is being groomed to be Leia’s “good” son. Like, if I could kill something with fire in this movie, it would be this. I absolutely hate that Leia didn’t even spare her son and her brother a backwards glance at the end of the film, when they set off to flee through the caves. Perhaps this wouldn’t sting so much if Carrie were still alive and there was a chance of filming a reunion and reconciliation between mother and son, but that is not to be.

I hate that Poe, who is NOT a main character, who was a perfectly killable side character in the previous movie, actually has the most dynamic arc in the whole film. Somehow, in a film that is supposed to be about a young woman, and in the midst of several intriguing female characters both old and new, it’s the most boring male character who gets the most agency and screentime. (I love that people were worried that Kylo would usurp Rey, but honesty…it was Poe).

Poe also has a higher kill count than Kylo Ren in terms of people who died because he was a Stupid Male, and yet Kylo Ren is the villain whose redemption is merely teased, as opposed to set into action? I mean, Poe was better at wiping out the whole resistance than the actual Supreme Leader, but nobody thinks he needs a redemption arc? oh, I guess he Learned From His Failures, so its all good.

Anytime someone said “spark”, I died a little inside.

“Hope is like the sun” - kill me now please

Leia spacewalking is an idea that I like on paper, but thought it was awkward in how it played out on screen.

Wow, so, Finn and Rey - two characters I was dying to have reunite - have NO actual dialogue exchanges. But we have enough time for Poe to say Hi to Rey but like Poe is the main character now don’t you know Like, what the fuck.

Okay, venting done.

#tlj spoilers #fandom wank #unpopular opinions #the last jedi #reylo #supreme leader snoke #snoke theory #my garbage #tlj wank #tlj reactions

11 notes · View notes

flyingangelofblueislands · 7 years

Text

Flower Boy Prince pt 4

VIXX Leo (Taekwoon) X You X VIXX Ravi (Wonshik)

A/u: college students. love triangle-esque.

Bias X Reader

Genre: flufftown

You reached over to his hands to grab your laundry that was currently full of freshly washed, dried, and folded clothes and particulars. “Thanks for running errands with me.” You smiled warmly. He had managed to turn a potential mundane day into a rather sweet one. Even if you felt a bit guilty down inside for hanging out with Wonshik instead of Taekwoon on your free day. At that very moment as you were contemplating whether you should tell Taekwoon or were you just making a big deal out of nothing, your phone sounded off in your pocket with a series of text messages, for the third time that afternoon. You knew it was your mom again. Sending one sentence at a time like she didn’t know how paragraphs worked; Like text messages have some 30 character limit. Like you hadn’t stepped outside of the laundromat earlier to actually call her and personally tell her you’re alive and doing errands and you would be down there that weekend you promise. You silenced your phone in your hand and reached for your laundry bag once again. Wonshik refused to give you your bag and smiled wider. “You’re not getting the bag back until you tell me who’s been calling your phone all day long. You’ve been glued to it half the time we were together.” He let out a small pout before cracking a smile.His head dipped a bit to look you into your amused face. “Why do you care? It’s not your business.” Wonshik blinked rapidly and put his free hand up in surrender. “I know. I know. I was just asking.” “Can I have my bag now?” You dropped your weight onto one hip and stuck a hand out. You couldn’t help but be amused. You could’ve told him it was your mother. But you started to like this interest he had in who was calling you. As long as he didn’t push it too far. It was kind of cute. Wonshik eyed you lightly and handed you your bag. “I’m meeting Taekwoon for a movie later this evening. You wanna come?” Your chest swelled up almost immediately at the mention of Taekwoon’s name. You tried to hide your eagerness to see him. You missed him. You really did, and had no idea how to stop. You nodded and then froze in your actions. Thinking quickly about how you would explain to Taekwoon about how you found out about these movie plans without having to give up that you spent a free day with his junior. Buying groceries together and making him turn around in the laundromat so he wouldn’t see your underwear, even when he tried to take a peek and you crashed into him from behind in a laughing fit while trying to cover his eyes. Wonshik had put his hand over your hands which had covered his eyes and you swear you felt electric current jittering through the contact. How would you explain to Taekwoon you had spent the day sharing random life stories while you watched the washer spin and played old- playground-schooldays handclapping games and card games and jacks and tops, betting (and winning) on snacks? How would you explain that Wonshik had you reeling when you were in front of him, even as Taekwoon was texting you asking how your day was going? “Okay I’ll come but I won the last bet right?” “Right. Have you decided what you want from me yet?” Wonshik said cheekily. You scoffed lightly and rolled your eyes, trying not to laugh. “Yes. I want your discretion.” You said warily. Not sure how Wonshik would take the explanation that was to follow. His eyebrows knitted together, and the low hanging sun behind him seemed to only get dimmer as your eyes tried to focus on only his expressions. “You can’t tell Taekwoon we saw each other today.” “Why not?” “Can you just?….” You said almost half desperate. Wonshik pulled his expression together and stood up straight. Licking his lips and almost smiling a bit too coyly, he nodded twice in agreement. You shifted your laundry bag into your other hand and eyed him suspiciously. “What are you thinking right now?” Wonshik covered his mouth with his hand as his smiling gaze fell to the ground, and then back up at you, “That secret things are often more fun.”

Around 8 pm that night, you and your roommate headed towards the movie theater by bus. You had put on a freshly cleaned outfit and done minimal makeup. Your roommate had done the bare minimum, as she didn’t want to come along in the first place. But you needed an alibi. In payback for your selfish request for her to fourth wheel it, you promised to be any wheel she needed you to be the following night when she goes out to meet her crush. So you were even. She held your arm and pouted. “The minute I feel like it, I’m going.” “Fine. Fine. I promise I’ll help you out tomorrow night, just please. I need to make this look like a coincidence..” “People go to the movies alone all the time.” “Not at night!” “Yes at night!” She snapped back, you elbowed her as you saw Wonshik’s smiling face a bit of ways away in the movie theatre lobby. Taekwoon was busy looking up at the board of movie showings trying to certify the right showtimes. Wonshik waved at you both and then tapped Taekwoon on the shoulder. He gestured towards you, and your roommate waved coyly, wiggling her fingers as she excitedly mouthed ‘hey’. You laughed at her ability to switch emotions so effortlessly. Then you caught Taekwoon’s eyes. He looked genuinely surprised to see you there, but happy nonetheless. He began walking over to you the minute he recognized it was you. While he was still a little ways away from you he gently called out, “What are you doing here?” He couldn’t hold back his happy expression. Cheekbones raised into his eyes. Your roommate interjected, “We’re seeing a movie of course! But we haven’t decided which one…” she tapped her chin and let go of your arm, walking towards the electronic board showing movie times. “Which one are you guys watching?” “The action one.” “Good. I feel like watching something exciting.” Your roommate trolled as she glance from you to the two guys. You mouthed more threats at her behind their backs before stepping closer to Taekwoon without thinking. “Why don’t we watch the movie with you guys?” You suggested. Wonshik and Taekwoon easily agreed and Taekwoon offered to pay for your tickets. You fought him about it all the way to the kiosk and successfully paid for you and your roommate’s tickets. “I owe her.” You finally explained. It wasn’t a lie. He smiled and nodded. “Well can I at least buy you guys snacks?” Taekwoon offered exchanging glances with you and your roommate. “I won’t say no to that..” You answered as your and Taekwoon’s smiling eyes searched each other’s longingly. it was as if it had been ages since you saw each other last. Even though you both knew it wasn’t. You roommate fake gagged in silence while he wasn’t looking but got caught by Wonshik, who couldn’t help but muffle his laugh with the side of his fist. Your roommate was slightly shocked at getting caught, but eventually snickered along with him. Wonshik grabbed Taekwoon’s sleeve and pulled a cute face effortlessly. You stood back feeling like you got shot with an arrow of adorable. “Will you buy my snacks too?” Leo sighed and closed his eyes briefly at seeing Wonshik’s face. He nodded and took his order as well before telling everybody to just wait and he’d be right back and setting off to the concession stand. Leaving you, Wonshik, and your roommate behind. Your roommate’s eyes bounced around before she curtly announced she was going to the bathroom, leaving you alone with Wonshik. Wonshik immediately stepped right up against the right side of your body, positioning himself so he could see Taekwoon but Taekwoon couldn’t see him, because of a pillar, and whispered in your ear, “You been looking good to me all day, baby.” You felt your heartbeat start its usual Wonshik rhythms. He raised his hand and delicately stroked your bare arm with the back of his knuckles from your shoulder to your wrist, slowly as he spoke in soft tones,. “I couldn’t wait to see you again. These last five hours have been torture. Not knowing if you would really come out tonight…if you didn’t, I would’ve had to make any excuse to come to you…” He continued as his eyes saw Taekwoon at the front of the line, paying for their snacks. Wonshik then backed up and leaned back against the pillar that was a few steps away from you. You finally exhaled and tried to put the strength back in your knees as you wobbly rushed up to Taekwoon to help him with the snacks. “Thanks Y/N.” He smiled at you and with his now free left arm, he slung it across your shoulders. You went into a buttery mess inside and Wonshik smiled knowingly as he walked up to you both. You eyed him, wondering how he could act so playful and nonchalant when he was just confessing sweet nothings in your ear. He was truly something. Something good or something bad. You didn’t know. Taekwoon shook you back to earth lightly with the arm that was around your shoulders, “You okay? Where’d your roommate go?” “Uh, yeah. I’m good. She went to the bathroom.” “I’m baaack!” You roommate reemerged shaking her damp hands. “Those auto hand dryers never dry fast enough for me.” She muttered and used a napkin from her purse to finish the job. “Should we go in?” She asked cheerily and took her and Wonshik’s snacks from your and Taekwoon’s hands and linked arms with Wonshik, walking ahead like she didn’t have an idea in the world about what was at play. Even though you knew she was semi-orchestrating it in her own way. As you walked towards the ticket tearer, Taekwoon turned to you, “Can you reach in my pocket and get me and Wonshikie’s tickets out, please?” “In your pocket??” You smiled and raised your eyebrows. “Isn’t that a little…intimate?” “My jacket pocket.” He clarified with an amused tone, “Anyway, what does it matter? My pocket is your pocket…to me.” Your breath caught in your throat as you heard his quiet words. You slipped a hand into his jacket pocket and got his tickets,smiling at him as you held them up. You moved to get out from under his arm, but he held you tighter. “You have to take your tickets!” You laughed, “What are you doing?” “You hold it and give it to them. I’m busy holding you.” he answered without looking your way. Your heart fluttered again. He was so bold all of a sudden. With holding your hand the day before, confessing his heart in a bunch of little ways. The attention to details and his genuine courtesy for you were normal as friends, but mixed with his ‘sudden’ assertive attitude about how he felt and what he wanted from you, it was a whole new territory that had opened up in a little over 24 hours. You didn’t want it to end. “After this movie…why don’t we go get something to eat….” You asked tentatively. “Just us….” Taekwoon bit his lip and smiled, shaking his hair out of his face before he answered, “I’d like that.”

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

part 4 ta-dahhhh! How’d you like that?? Are you as conflicted as I wrote you to be or have you already made up your mind who you want??

Anyway, week 4 of VIXX promotions, done T-T. on a related/unrelated note, I think their red n black outfit from yesterday is my favorite outfit so far besides that purple one from ladt week(was it last week or the week before?) they look great in deep colors like that!! (tho the pastel pink from before was good too)

Love, Peace, and quick Fluff reads!!

-admin Fluffintine

#vixx scenarios #vixx fluff #vixx leo #vixx ravi #jung taekwoon #kim wonshik #fluff scenarios #fluff #kpop fluff #kpop scenarios #leo fluff #ravi fluff #fluffintine

6 notes · View notes