#its much less vulnerable to snub everything and find things wrong with everything

[todobaku-shoukat]

The Heir that was Switched at Birth (13/13)

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18906280/chapters/46208470

From the pitstop, the crew took a bus to the opening of a forest. From here on, they had to walk through the forest down a little man-made path for about an hour to reach Oka Village. Bakugou had thought that the walk would be draining because of all the noise and talking by Shiroi and the other celebrities. However, after stepping into the forest, Bakugou feels only relief.

 Noticing Bakugou’s change in emotion, Todoroki smiles. “Like what you see?”

 Bakugou rolls his eyes at that. No matter how innocent it seems, he knows that Todoroki is doing this on purpose, the tone reminding him of other times in bed. Nonetheless, he replies to the question with a nod.

 “As expected, you’re a giant cat. Maybe a mountain lion.” Todoroki suggests. Upon further analysis in his head, Todoroki nods approvingly at his own suggestion. “Same blond hair, loves nature and sunlight, can be solitary and fierce at times… Basically, a cute but ferocious little mountain lion.”

 Bakugou’s heart skips a beat for a moment, wondering if there is a possibility that Todoroki has recalled his memories from their real world. Back in the real world, Todoroki had also called him a mountain lion when he learnt of Bakugou’s love for mountain climbing. Lips tugging into a smile, Bakugou expectantly gives the same reply he had back then, “Yeah well, maybe I should rip your legs off.”

 However, instead of the innocent and confused reply of “Do you not like being called a mountain lion?”, Todoroki suggestively asks, “Which leg?”

 Disappointment passes through Bakugou, but only briefly as the implication of Todoroki’s words register. Really? Is this guy really doing this right here in the wild with cameras in their faces?

 “The one you don’t need,” Bakugou replies, eyes going down to Todoroki’s pants to indicate just which leg he was talking about.

 “Ah well… I may not need it, but my fiancé does.” Todoroki replies with a smirk. It takes all of Bakugou’s might not to punch that smirk off Todoroki’s face, and he wonders why he is always losing to Todoroki when he is the one with memories. Or maybe that’s why. Because Todoroki has probably forgotten what is shame.

 Nonetheless, Bakugou looks at Todoroki sorrowfully and resentfully as if he is a two-timing jerk and says, “Ah. You have a fiancé? Who is this person you’re engaged to?”

 Bakugou expects that this, at least, will leave Todoroki speechless since they’re not going to publicise their relationship in front of a rolling camera. However, again, he expects too much of Todoroki who answers, “A cute little tsundere.”

 If the camera isn’t rolling, Bakugou would have literally killed Todoroki. He is not cute, not little, and definitely not a tsundere! Flustered and angry, Bakugou rolls his eyes and walks faster. Immediately, Shiroi steps forward to walk next to Todoroki.

 “What were you and Katsuki talking about?” Shiroi asks curiously and innocently despite having heard the entire conversation and is burning furiously inside.

 “About my fiancé,” Todoroki replies proudly with a smirk.

 The reply is so shameless, it took Shiroi all his strength to keep the innocent smile on his face. Shiroi can understand why Bakugou decided to walk faster and leave Todoroki “vulnerable” to himself now. There is absolutely no way to have any small talk with Todoroki. Honestly, Shiroi should have already known. The only thing you can ever have a conversation with Todoroki about is either work or Bakugou. Sometimes, Shiroi wonders why he has to go around looking to be snubbed by trying to seduce Todoroki. Every time he does, he only receives a mouthful of PDA and a heart full of anger. But there is this voice in his head, a feeling down in his chest, that Todoroki is meant to love him. He feels like he cannot stand it if Todoroki doesn’t like him because it feels like everything is wrong, going off the path it is supposed to follow. Every time he sees Todoroki and Bakugou interacting so lovingly, he gets even more anxious and uneasy. And so, Shiroi feels like he has to shameless try to seduce an attached man. Because if he doesn’t, he feels like he will start losing everything he has and is supposed to have, starting from Todoroki.

 Shiroi feels tired. Nobody likes chasing after someone who looks at you like you’re less than dirt. It enrages him that Todoroki, who used to look at him as if he hung the stars and the moon, turning to look at someone else instead. Especially when that someone else is Bakugou Katsuki. Shiroi had spent years with Sugaru as Bakugou’s substitute, so he feels even more humiliated by the change in Todoroki’s attitude. It is unfair, how Bakugou has everything. No. Shiroi thinks to himself. It should all be his, not Bakugou’s. Bakugou should not exist. If only he disappears, everything will be right again. Everything will be his.

 Suddenly, Shiroi feels complete calmness. That’s right, he thinks. He only has to erase Bakugou from this world, and then, everything will be alright. And now is the perfect moment. They are by a cliff and Bakugou is walking alone in front of him. If he pretends to trip and fall and “accidentally” push Bakugou off the cliff, he can erase Bakugou for good.

 But what Shiroi does not consider is how much force to use. In order to ensure that he uses enough force to push Bakugou off the cliff, Shiroi used all his might, only to fall off the cliff as well.

 What the actual fuck? Bakugou thinks as he falls from the cliff. Is he going to die here? Would the mission immediately fail? Will they both immediately switch worlds or will Todoroki stay here? Can Todoroki stay here and attempt to complete the mission? However, Bakugou’s hopes for Todoroki to be able to continue staying in this world to succeed in this mission fails as he sees Todoroki jump of the cliff after him, face serious and determined. What an idiot, Bakugou cusses in his mind. What did Todoroki think he can accomplish by jumping off the cliff after him? Although Bakugou knows he isn’t really going to die, he really does not want to experience dying here. He remembers the looks of pain the other victims of The Writer had when they described their experiences of dying.

 But when the back of Bakugou’s head hits the surface, he is immediately relieved. It seems like maybe he won’t die since its water and he can swim. But his relief doesn’t last long as he hits a rock hidden under the water and immediately blacks out.

 --

 When Bakugou regains consciousness, he feels a tight grip around his hands. Slowly opening his eyes, he sees familiar white and red hair that is uncharacteristically messy. Sensing that he’s awake, the bicoloured head of hair moves as Todoroki lifts his head to meet Bakugou’s eyes.

 “You’re awake!” Todoroki states the obvious. “Does it hurt anywhere? Are you okay? Does your head still hurt? Do… Do you still remember me?”

 Bakugou narrows his eyes, not knowing which question to answer first.

 “It’s okay if you don’t remember me or our past together!” Todoroki says before Bakugou can respond.

 It’s actually you who don’t remember our past, Bakugou thinks sourly.

 “We can make new memories together!” Todoroki says seriously. “Let me re-introduce myself. I am Todoroki Shouto, head of the Todoroki corporation. Aged 33. And we’re engaged. We were going to get married when you got into an accident. Once you get better, we will continue with our plans to get married!”

 Wow. Bakugou thinks. Why is he not surprised that Todoroki will take the opportunity to pretend that they’re engaged? “You haven’t even properly proposed, and I definitely haven’t agreed, you half-and-half bastard!”

 “You remember?” Todoroki replies, surprised.

 “Why do you look so disappointed? What. You want me to have amnesia so you can go off and find someone else?” Bakugou glares as Todoroki pretends to look innocent.

 “Of course not! Kitten, you know you’re my one and only. But you really don’t have amnesia?” Bakugou responds to this question with a deadpan stare. “Eh? That’s strange. This isn’t like how the story goes…”

 “What story?” Bakugou asks warily, unsure if he wants to know the answer.

 “This Korean drama I was watching. The female lead also fell off a cliff and then lost her memories…” Todoroki replies.

 The only thought that goes through Bakugou’s mind is “Why?”, “How?”, “When?” and “Who the fuck introduced Todoroki to all these dumbass shit?”

 “Damn. And here I thought we could finally get married…” Todoroki mutters under his breath. Bakugou hears this and starts to reflect. Todoroki didn’t know that they won’t really die but he still took the risk and jumped off after him. If Todoroki really wants to get married, it’s not like they can’t…

 “Fine,” Bakugou finally says.

 “Fine? What do you mean? Do you mean…” Todoroki’s eyes brighten as he looks at Bakugou with hope and passion so strong it gets Bakugou flustered.

 “If you cannot understand than forget it!” Bakugou barks.

 “I understand! We’ll get married when you get discharged!” Todoroki shouts happily, face breaking out in a rare but wide smile. Bakugou responds with an equally wide smile. Slowly, their heads start leaning together and just as they are about to kiss, the door is thrown wide open.

 “Katsuki! My poor baby! I’ve always known you were my son! I carried you in my body for 9 months! How can I possibly not recognise my own son!” Bakugou’s mother cries as she rushes to the hospital bed, pushing Todoroki away so that she can give her son a hug.

 Confused, Bakugou looks at Todoroki questioningly.

 Then, Bakugou finds out what has happened since he fell off the cliff. Turns out, both he and Shiroi had hit their heads when they fell. Fortunately for Todoroki, since he jumped off on his own, he had more control of the way he fell, allowing him to dive in arms first instead of head first. Hence, he injured his arm but is mostly fine. On the other hand, both Bakugou and Shiroi lost quite a lot of blood and needed a blood transfusion.

 That’s when they found out that Shiroi cannot be the Bakugou parents’ son. Both Bakugou parents have blood type A, so there is no way for them to have a child with blood type B. The Bakugou parents had insisted on doing another genetic test, and found out that Shiroi is indeed not their son. After finding out that they had been cheated, they had been furious. Since Sugaru is their close friend’s son, they couldn’t really do anything. Instead, they turned their anger to Shiroi, using their connections to try to charge the latter for attempted murder. Of course, Todoroki also uses his connections, so Shiroi is unable to escape imprisonment.

 --

 Very quickly, the media catches wind of the news and then, the public finds out that Bakugou Katsuki is not only the real heir to the Bakugou corporation, he is also the fiancé of the wealthiest man in the country. All the other celebrities who previously kept quiet or took the opportunity to step on Bakugou’s reputation for their own benefit quickly changed their stances, coming out to praise Bakugou and his work ethic. Whether or not the public truly believe that Bakugou’s scandals were slander, Bakugou’s public image is quickly washed clean because nobody wanted to offend someone with such position and power. Instead of gossiping about Bakugou’s scandals, they had better things to talk about, such as the “Wedding of the Century” and Shiroi’s deception. In fact, Shiroi captured much of the public’s hate, the public thinking that they have been deceived.

 As for the Bakugou family, after putting Shiroi in jail, they quickly decided to put the appalling situation behind and instead focus on planning Todoroki and Bakugou’s wedding. Todoroki wanted the wedding to be as soon as possible, while the Bakugou parents felt that they should choose an auspicious date and wait a bit so that they can better plan the wedding. They wanted to make up to their son for the pain he suffered due to Shiroi through a grand wedding. While Bakugou is also more inclined to a quick and simple wedding, he decides to go with his parents. Especially when the Bakugou mother looks at him expectantly, Bakugou is unable to reject her. Later on, Todoroki is also convinced. After all, the term “Wedding of the Century” is very appealing.

 And although Bakugou will not admit it, he looks forward to the wedding. But unfortunately, it was not meant to be. Because he forgot an important point: that they will move to the next world when the mission is completed and the protagonist has completely no way of returning the plot.

 On the night before their wedding, Shiroi dies. The prison is not an easy place to survive, especially when you are weak and fragile like Shiroi, surrounded by real criminals who have planned to commit murder. With the protagonist dead, the plot is completely changed. And so, when Bakugou wakes, he is back in the dark space.

 “Welcome back to the Rest Stop,” a voice echoes in Bakugou’s head. “You have done well, little heroes. I look forward to your next mission. I hope you like palace dramas because it is next.”

#todobaku #fanfic #TodoBaku's Quick Transmigration #The Heir that was Switched at Birth

[reelgalsofglasgow-blog]

The Golden Gals: The Reel Gals Academy Awards

The time has come. The envelopes have been sealed (with the right cards in each - we hope). We’ve been sewn into our best outfits. In lieu of an exuberant opening musical number featuring the ubiquitous James Corden, please enjoy a short clip of the best Oscars moment ever:

Honestly, if this year’s ceremony doesn’t open with just those fourteen seconds on a loop for a solid seven minutes, we’ll be sorely disappointed.

...

We know that all you’ll be thinking about now is that clip and basking in how gloriously weird it is… so maybe take a few minutes, watch that clip another eight or so times just to be sure; grab yourself a cuppa and settle in - because it’s time to announce our own Reel Gals Academy Award winners! The ‘Osc-hers’, if you will.

Ask any professional in TV - and they’ll tell you that the best entertainment always starts not with an idea or any spark of passion… but with a spreadsheet. Spreadsheets are the equivalent of Amino Acid for British TV programmes. Boring, but true. So we put together a spreadsheet listing each category and, depending on how many nominees, numbered them 1-5 (or 1-8 in Best Picture’s case) where 5 = favourite nominee. Then the magic spreadsheet worked out the average for us because damn, we’re not NASA.

With all our votes cast (unfortunately four of the categories had to drop as we just couldn’t get viewing copies in time - sorry Documentaries, Short Docs, Live Action Shorts and Foreign Language films!) our WhatsApp group chock full of planning for hectic last-minute trips to the cinema, trailer breakdowns, Spotify playlists, Adam Driver spam [Sorrrrry ~ Jen] and late night Netflix binges - we’re ready to present our own personal winners of each category - JUST in time for the ceremony itself.

Will we be as off-the-mark as the Academy not putting Emily Blunt up for a Lead Actress nomination for her stellar work in A Quiet Place? Or will it turn out that we are actually a collective of omniscient New Age Mystics, ordained by the gods of Hollywood themselves - imparting our sage wisdom and knowledge of the Future? Who can tell? Not us. (Or can we??)

So, get Red Carpet ready and join us for our 2019 Oscars picks and their close-fought runners-up, as voted for by us!

LEAD ACTOR

1. Christian Bale - Not gonna lie, it’s difficult to completely lavish Bale with praise considering that a major part of the prep in his transformation into the illusive Dick Cheney was “eating a LOT of pies”. If I was paid on the premise of my pie eating abilities, I’m pretty sure I would be up for an award too, just sayin’. Anyway, he does a pretty good damn job of depicting someone that no one really knows a great deal about in the first place, especially viewers outside the UK (I had to google him twice).  His flair for delivering an all consuming, intense and seminal performance is as apparent as ever despite the layers of latex and make up to contend with. Particularly during the heart attack scene in which I found myself worryingly questioning how much red meat and cream I’d had in the last month. It worth saying that his performance owes a great deal to the aforementioned hair and makeup team, whose work is nothing short of astonishing.  It’s literally the only Christian Bale film in which I’ve never been attracted to Christian Bale, for real.  Considering that his last Oscar win was in 2011 for The Fighter, another dramatic, transformative role then he might be in with a chance. The voters have shown time and time again that they award convincing portrayals of famous figures so I reckon It’s a toss up between Malek and Bale this year, although with utmost respect to Malek, I hope it’s the latter. [~Marie]

RUNNERS UP:

2. Viggo Mortensen 

3. Rami Malek

LEAD ACTRESS

1. Olivia Colman - So, I always hear “Olivia Colman can do no wrong” and I have to admit that The Favourite is absolutely no exception. I first stumbled across her while heavily invested in Peep Show during my late teens, but it was really in Broadchurch that I fell in love with her as an actor (and while watching her acceptance speech for her recent BAFTA win, I fell in love with her as a person). I know that us Reel Gals were definitely a little divided regarding The Favourite as an overall film, but I don’t think any of us will have any major qualms if she picks up the Oscar this weekend. Her performance and portrayal of Queen Anne more than deserve it, and I stumbled around looking for the perfect phrase to express this embodiment, and her ability to make us empathize with this rather “brutish” historical figure. In the end what sums it up is Colman’s lack of fear to exhibit ‘grotesque charm’ balanced with her open vulnerability in the role of Queen Anne that (along with the other female-lead performances) kept the film afloat for me. [~ Kayleigh]

RUNNERS UP:

2. Yalitza Aparicio

3. Lady Gaga

BEST SUPPORTING ACTOR

1. Mahershala Ali - Ali, to me is one of those faces (handsome faces) that, when you see, you can't quite put your finger on and when you IMDb search him you find yourself saying “Oh yeah, that's what he's in”, and to me that includes the fact that I forget about his Academy Award winning performance in Moonlight.  After Green Book I don't think I'll be forgetting him again and us Gals believe he should be receiving his second Oscar tonight to join his BAFTA and Golden Globe for the performance.  His portrayal of Classical and Jazz pianist Dr Don Shirley is the perfect accompaniment and antithesis to the uncouth Tony Lip portrayed by Viggo Mortensen.  I don't know enough about Dr Don Shirley to say that Mahershala embodies him, but I don't think that matters as much as the feeling watching his performance gives the viewer.  You can feel his frustration with Tony during their road trip, you can feel his loneliness in the hotels at night, you can feel his passion for music and playing the piano, you can feel his anger at how he is treated by the ignorant white southerners purely based on the colour of his skin and you can feel his love in the tear inducing final scene.  Any performance that can make me empathise with the emotions of an American male, mid-30s, black, upper-class, talented performer trying to overcome racism and ignorance in the American Deep South in the 60s (and if you hadn't guessed I fit none of those categories), is a powerful performance indeed.  Good luck Mahershala!   [~Robyn]

JOINT RUNNERS UP:

2. Richard E Grant / Adam Driver

BEST SUPPORTING ACTRESS

1. Regina King - This may well have been the easiest category for me to vote on. (Even though I actually felt that this year showcased a whole lot of strongly-delivered performances, by so many talented women.) Regina King - wow - what a badass lady right there. I thought that the acting from all parties in If Beale Street Could Talk was so incredibly sincere, but especially that of King's. Together with the colour palette, soundtrack and cinematography, I was honestly so moved by the whole film (and am *entirely gutted* that it's been overshadowed by its competitors). I have only one complaint about IBSCT and that is that Regina King should have got more screen time. Everything I've seen King in I've loved and I have to admit that I was just happy to see this nomination, let alone think that her performance in IBSCT was flawless and even although she has some tough competition, that she fully deserves to win the Oscar. If Beale Street Could Talk represents love, passion, strength and power, whilst addressing themes such as race and equality - everything this film stands for, Regina King embodies in herself as a person and channels in her character, Sharon Rivers. It was refreshing to watch King and just believe her, believe in her character and believe in her as woman and a mother. You will forever be one of my heroes Regina, thank-you for sharing your talent. [~Katie]

RUNNERS UP:

2. Rachel Weisz

3. Emma Stone

BEST DIRECTOR

1. Spike Lee - I’m almost pained to admit that my first experience of a Spike Lee film only came about during my 3rd year of studying film at uni (for shame).  The module was ‘The Importance of Soundtrack’ and in particular, the inclusion of pop, hip-hop & R&B music to accentuate social commentary and help establish mood, setting and underlying tension that any director worth their salt can’t express through dialogue alone.  I remember leaving the tiny Gilmore cinema on a Tuesday afternoon having watched Do the Right Thing and feeling unusually energised, awake and slightly angry -  but in a good way. Cut to roughly 7 years later, I’m leaving Cineworld, on my 29th birthday, no less,  after a screening of BlacKkKlansman, still vibrating with anger and frustration 5 minutes after the film ended. It’s the most powerful last 10 minutes of a film, but it’s not Spike Lee’s best. Nor do I think it’s the best film of the year (although I’m possibly in the minority of my Reel Gals peers in saying that). However, in light of a barrage of recent injustices in the US  - social and political -  it cannot be considered anything less than a vital and timely film which (despite its shortcomings) deserves all the Oscar attention it gets. Lee is a complete master in his unique ability to inject comedy and style into a hard-hitting subject matter such as blind, racial hatred. Since next year will mark the 30th year since Lee’s first infamous Oscar snub, I feel like it’s only right that the academy should Do the Right Thing (heh, you see what I did there..?) and honour him for managing to stay angry (or #woke, if you prefer) and keeping us angry - in a good way. [~Marie]

RUNNERS UP:

2. Alfonso Cuarón

3. Yorgos Lanthimos

BEST ANIMATED FEATURE

1. Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse - If you were to pause this film on any frame, you could print it and hang it on your wall. Every single frame is a work of art. The Best Animated Feature category was extremely strong this year with the usual gorgeous Pixar and Disney outings that ordinarily would have snatched the title as they have done in previous years. Such is the power and unique brilliance of this film to take on the two Animation behemoths at their best and come out on top. Boasting twice the normal number of animators (177!!) to bring to life Phil Lord and Christopher Miller’s vision for Miles Morales’ colourful and diverse world, it utilises a glorious twist of new and old forms of animation as well as ideas from print - halftones, hatching and overprinting as well as inserting comic cells and onomatopoeic graphics (“THWIP!” and “BAGEL!” are particular favourites). Not only have we mixtures of frame-rates for characters within the same frame (Whaaaaat?!) to denote Miles’ initial clumsiness versus the other Spider-People’s practised grace; but we’re treated to mixtures of graphic styles with Manga, Noir and classic American cartoon for each of the Multi-Verse Spiders - which shouldn’t work, but does here so, SO well. It’s easy to understand how 10 seconds of final cut content took an entire year for 177 people to create. Lovely little touches like characters stepping into Noir’s space being affected by his immediate ‘windy’ environment and the hand-drawn overlays and inserted comic style frames make this the most exciting, innovative and beautiful-looking animated film not only of 2018 but we believe also of the last decade. It is a true cinematic experience and one that not only deserves the Oscar, but also deserves recognition for changing the landscape of what’s possible for film animation. Also, not going to lie - a lot of us came out of the film inexplicably attracted to Peter B Parker and wish he was real. We would buy that man as many bagels as he wants, for sure. [~Jen]

RUNNERS UP:

2. Isle of Dogs

3. Ralph Breaks the Internet

BEST ANIMATED SHORT

1. Bao - Pixar shorts. They are great. One of the Reel gooduns is, Bao. It’s kinda silly, it’s a bit weird, but ultimately it does what Pixar does best. It taps into very touching, emotional aspects of the human condition. Bao is a 2018 computer-animated short film written and directed by Domee Shi and produced by Pixar Animation Studios. It was released with Incredibles 2 on June 15, 2018. It’s the shortest film of the shorts-lineup. Focusing on a middle aged mother is a wonderful perspective to choose. The film is about an ageing Chinese-Canadian mother, suffering from empty nest syndrome. She receives a rather unusual second chance at motherhood when she makes a baozi dumpling that comes to life as a boy. The film takes you by surprise at several points, after being lulled into a place of “OK, maybe this human baozi is something I can get on board with”, but it ends on a beautiful note. So, as Danny Devito once put it: “I like it, I love it, I want more of it”. [~ Caroline]

RUNNERS UP:

2. Late Afternoon

3. One Small Step

BEST ADAPTED SCREENPLAY

1. BlacKkKlansman - Last year Get Out won the award for best original screenplay for its haunting, hilarious, terrifying, and almost ridiculously scary tale. Some thought this tale of fiction was too simple in its over-the-topness, but the message it wanted to pass was far from it. This year, the equally unbelievable and extremely important story of racism and bigotry comes in an adapted script form based on the true reports of police officer and KKK infiltrator Ron Stallworth. Released as a memoir in 2014 by Stallworth, screenwriters David Rabinowitz and Charlie Wachtel were shocked to find out that no studios even bothered buying the rights to this unbelievable tale and independently adapted the work. It’s not just a brilliant story cause of what happened. It’s not just an amazing comedy cause of the clever dialogue. Its ingenuity, lies on how contemporary this ‘period’ piece reads. From dialogue that feel as if you’re reading the latest Trump supporter’s tweets, to the unbelievable and unapologetic beliefs some have and march for even today. And in case quotes from the Grand Duke of the KKK like ‘I just want to make America great’ didn’t give the film a terrifying enough case of the ‘history is repeating itself’, the brilliant end scene sure does. Thank you for your public service, one day *hopefully* we’ll learn from past mistakes. [~ Lia]

RUNNERS UP:

2. Can You Ever Forgive Me?

3. The Ballad of Buster Scruggs

BEST ORIGINAL SCREENPLAY

1. Green Book - Well, I can genuinely say that Green Book is one of the most beautifully written and delivered films I have been blessed with watching at the cinema in a long time. Based on a true story, it invites the audience to join a world class African-American pianist and his Italian-American driver from the Bronx, on a concert tour of the Deep South in the 60′s - a difficult storyline, fraught with potential pitfalls, executed in a gentle and respectful way. Named after a legitimate travel guide that listed businesses that would accept African-American custom, Green Book confronts infuriating themes such as racism, segregation, class and sexuality – all of which are still issues today. The story encapsulates the growth of an unlikely partnership between the musician Dr Shirley (Mahershala Ali) and Tony Lip (Viggo Mortensen) – quick note to talk about how outstanding, heart-warming and believable their performances were – as with time, the begin to respect, understand and care for each other. [Obviously there are questions about why Green Book would frame a story about racism in the Deep South around a white man’s experience - and have the man of colour take a back seat. Literally. My takeaway from the film was mostly that people aren’t defined by their class as much as they aren’t by their colour - just because Dr Shirley is black does not mean he ought to fall into tired old stereotypes - just because Tony is poor (by comparison) and working class, doesn’t mean he can’t enjoy the ‘perceived spoils of the upper classes’ - classical music or any of the rest of it. Dr Shirley expands Tony’s experience and understanding with regards race - while Tony expands Dr Shirley’s in class. In a post-Brexit and Trump world, where working class people are feeling increasingly marginalised and are partaking in scapegoating of people of colour as a result, perhaps Green Book (however problematic it may still be) presents a message that might get through to those people in today’s political climate? But of course, all of this is my opinion as a lower middle-class white lassie from the UK. ~Jen] 

As such, Peter Farrelly, Brian Currie and Nick Vallelonga (notably Tony Lip’s son) presents us with a rather Hollywood (in other words: soft) version of this story, resulting in a mixed response for this film (not from us down at Reel Gals HQ, we loved it), however, he tries to carefully balance out the hard-hitting, dark scenarios that our duo face on the road with the cleverly written dialogue and characterisation running into some really special, incredibly warm moments of character-driven humour.  

All in all, I would say Green Book is a cinematically stunning piece of work as well as a story of growth and respect; a feel good film that deserves the Oscar (I'm going to give Roma a quick S/O, as I do believe that it it too would be a worthy winner). I can also say that Farrelly really surprised me after some of the (in my opinion) trash that he’s previously had his name on (Dumb and Dumber, I’m looking at you). You will leave the film feeling warm, with faith in cinema and the inability to stop thinking about how much you want to fold up an entire pizza and eat it like a sandwich – I know I did. [~ Katie]

RUNNERS UP:

2. Roma

3. Vice

BEST CINEMATOGRAPHY

1. Roma -  Rumour has it that the revolution will not be televised, and up until recently, the category for Cinematography was almost relegated to the ad-breaks. Why John Bailey, why? Thankfully, after a public ballyhoo, we will be able to see the award presented via live stream (as well as Editing, Live-Action Short, and Makeup and Hairstyling). So why is Cinematography so vital to us?

 Let’s go back forty-eight years for a moment. Director, Norman Jewison once talked about how he created the warm, earthy haze of Fiddler on the Roof (1971) with the director of photography, Oswald Morris. They lined a lens with a pair of brown nylons seen on a woman on set (hello, 1970’s Hollywood!). Though Jewison shrugged this story off as a lucky spur-of-the-moment decision, it was made and carried out to stunning effect. Watch it and see. Almost half-a century later, and cinematography has continued to thrive in ingenuity and style.

 The Reel Gals have come together to appreciate Alfonso Cuarón’s, cinematographic mastery in Roma. Originally, Emmanuel Lubezki was set to take on this task, but there was an availability clash. Cuarón took over as well as writing the screenplay and directing the film. Lubezki remained an influence to Cuarón who said in an interview with Variety that Lubezki’s voice was in the back of his mind as he worked.

Roma is a semi-autobiographical take on Cuarón's upbringing in the Colonia Roma neighbourhood of Mexico City. Cuarón said of his stylistic choices:

 “I would say it’s the ghost of the present that is visiting the past, without getting involved, just observing, not trying to make a judgment or commentary.”

 With this in mind, I can see why he shot it in black and white. Actually, he shot it in colour with the Alexa 65, then paired it back to black-and-white, like a photo-realistic painter. The effect of this is that the film is crisp, and each scene seems almost 3D. When you take the colour away, other senses become heightened. The sounds in Roma, for example, are so much more present. The less you see, the more you fill in with your mind. Strangely, things seem more vivid in black and white.

 I recommend this article as it gives much more information about the visual decisions which were made. All I can say at this point is that as viewers, we intuitively respond to what has been crafted for us, and this craft should be celebrated. Alfonso Cuarón has given us an incredible film which (like Fidder) will be talked about by new generations of Reel Gals in another fifty years.  [~ Caroline]

RUNNERS UP:

2. Never Look Away

3. A Star is Born / The Favourite

BEST FILM EDITING

1.Vice - Of all of the films shortlisted for the Oscars, one has stood out as being one with as many ideas laid out in the edit as it was in the writing and shooting of the piece. Hank Corwin makes use of syncopation like the greatest of musicians - very frequently going places creatively you would never expect… cuts to black; use of archive; the visuals quite often were at odds with the sound, but in the best possible ways. It is frantic, meta, fourth-wall busting, juxtaposition-filled mania with a persistent overarching feeling of extreme unease and increasing dread - perfectly fitting for Cheney’s journey into Power.[~ Jen]

RUNNERS UP:

2. BlacKkKlansman

3. Bohemian Rhapsody

BEST SOUND MIXING

1. Bohemian Rhapsody - So quickly, for those of you (like myself before casting my votes) who didn't know the difference between Sound Editing and Sound Mixing, Sound Editing is the creation and use of sound effects, Sound Mixing is the overall use of soundtrack including music, dialogue, sound effects, the whole shebang really.  Overall, although I thoroughly enjoyed Bohemian Rhapsody, I'm not sure I agree with the amount of award attention this movie is getting.  Maybe being a big Queen fan the movie left me feeling like it was mostly a celebration of them as a band and lacked any profound revelation.  However what can be truly marvelled at in this movie is the recreation of Freddie Mercury's performances; credit where it's due, Rami Malek did a great job of becoming him on screen; but the reproduction of that incredible voice and Queen’s Greatest Hits is what really makes the film what I would call “The Queen Experience”.  After seeing the movie and rediscovering an old love by listening to the soundtrack on repeat I noticed that it included live tracks and demos, and doing a bit of digging I discovered that for the concert scenes they used the real live sound from the concerts being recreated, in fact these sequences were chosen around the choice of recording (although don't quote me on that, my sources are from the internet, could be fake news).  Also, to make the Freddie Mercury voice perfect some of the recordings were mixed with Canadian Christian Rock artist Marc Martel whose voice is so similar you can barely tell the difference.  All of this attention to detail along with the cinematic surround sound effects means that for millennials like us, unfortunately too young to have seen Freddie perform live ourselves, can feel like we were actually at Live Aid (sorry Adam Lambert, you don't quite cut it).  That sounds award worthy to me. [~Robyn]

RUNNERS UP:

2. A Star is Born

3. First Man

BEST SOUND EDITING

1. First Man - As I mentioned above, for those of you who don't know, the Sound Editing category celebrates the creation and use of Sound Effects.  There are certain members of the Reel Gals that would disagree with me on my analysis of First Man - I found it boring and too long and to be 90% Ryan Gosling not really acting and mostly just being mopey (and this is coming from someone who loves Ry-Go as much as the next girl).  However I can appreciate that creating the illusion of space travel relies heavily on sound effects, on this I cannot fault the film.  Any scene that features people in the cockpit of a space rocket or bouncing about the face of the moon (spoiler - Neil Armstrong is the “first man” to take one small step for man and one… blah blah blah you know the rest), is beautifully soundtracked with what I imagine since I have never been to the moon, realistic sound effects. [Like Pavlov’s Dog - if I ever hear that intense rattling from this version of the cockpit of Apollo 11 again, I will take a serious whitey. ~Jen]  There are no dodgy Wilhelm Screams during the upsetting cockpit fire scene or Star Trek-like door “wooshes” here.  Now maybe if these types of sounds had been included I would have been more entertained, but the sound effects were so realistic and in the moon landing scene almost beautiful.  So well done to the sound team for keeping me too firmly in reality with this film. [~Robyn]

RUNNERS UP:

2. A Quiet Place

3. Bohemian Rhapsody

BEST PRODUCTION DESIGN

1. Mary Poppins Returns - I thought it was impossible to make a new Mary Poppins film and that attempting to remake a classic was just Hollywood proving it had run out of ideas but in the case of Mary Poppins Returns’ production designer John Myhre strikes a fine balance of appealing to the old eyes who watched the original and the fresh new ones experiencing this story for the first time. If you’re the one wearing the nostalgia glasses then each and every set in this film will make you feel like the kid you were all those years ago - from the cobbled streets of the reimagined 1930s London to the whimsical wonder that is the upside down house. This is where Myhre’s talent shines as he pays homage to the old while never quite replicating it. The house of 17 Cherry Tree Lane still looks and feels as if it has been lifted from Emile Kuri’s original designs but feels reimagined, the fingerprints of Michael Banks life as an adult are prevalent in every room - especially in the attic. Taking a trip up there feels like throwing yourself back in time filled with a clutter of old easter eggs that would thrill any fan of the first film - you don’t have to look far to spot the blocks used by Julie Andrews in ‘Spoonful of Sugar’ or the sash worn by Jane’s mum and of course the most notable throwback of all - the kite. In the end, this is a real house for a real man, in real depression who has lived a very real life but then cue Mary Poppins. The drab, brown and grey colour palette across the set bursts into colour as her mere presence turns this gritty reality into a magical fantasy. The mix of fantasy and reality blends seamlessly together so much so that even the expertly recreated scenes like Big Ben’s tower have a flare of magic to them.

I hadn’t realised until the credits started to roll that somewhere along the way I had taken my nostalgia glasses off and started to view this film as its own entity. Through beautifully crafted sets that meld seamlessly into the classic stylings of the animations, meticulous in detail, it captures the spirit of its predecessor but has an identity very much of its own. So, now I am prepared to eat my earlier retort and believe in the words of Mary Poppins herself - “everything is possible, even the impossible.”  [~Isla]

RUNNERS UP:

2. Black Panther

3. The Favourite

BEST ORIGINAL SONG

1. Shallow - A Star is Born - I have to admit, I’m rather gutted that All The Stars missed out on our number one spot (thanks Gals) but Shallow undoubtedly is a bit of a banger. “Is there somethin’ else you’re searching for” - Shallow poetically (when I say poetically, I mean pretty darn obviously) offers the audience an insight to both Ali and Jackson’s character growth throughout the film: Ali, looking to get more out of her life than it was offering her and Jackson, his deterioration in light of his dying career (is that a spoiler? Surely not!). Don’t get me wrong, I loved A Star is Born and genuinely think Lady Gaga and Bradley Cooper *pauses for Bradley Cooper’s voice* have an undeniable connection, the way they perform together - both in this song and the film as a whole - left me with chills (an opinion shared by fewer than half of the Reel Gals) [I may have hated the film, but that won’t stop me beltin’ this mother out at the karaoke ~ Jen] - Shallow will live on and I am sure will be leaving with Academy award, however in my opinion, it’s not particularly inspiring or lyrically imaginative. Still love you, Gaga. [~ Katie]

RUNNERS UP:

2. All The Stars - Black Panther

3. The Place Where Lost Things Go - Mary Poppins Returns

BEST ORIGINAL SCORE

1. BlacKkKlansman by Terence Blanchard - BlacKkKlansman marks the 19th project and 30th year of a Spike Lee/Terence Blanchard partnership and wowzers! Blanchard has composed a score that beautifully enhances the exquisite direction of Lee, capturing a sound that really drives the audience’s emotion throughout the film. Although I found it almost impossible to choose between all the nominations for Best Score, Blanchard has stolen top spot at the Reel Gals’ Academy Awards and to be honest, rightfully so! Terence Blanchard uses “his passion and desire to serve the story” when it comes to anything he composes, which is just one of the reasons he is fully deserved of the Oscar when it comes to the BlacKkKlansman score. He pulls in influences of Hendrix with the electric guitar (which in my opinion really captures Ron Stallworth’s character as a whole) and couples it with the power of brass, a combination that successfully delivers both chilling and comedic moments – alluding to what the audience should be feeling, rather than being on the nose. Terence Blanchard had the responsibility of composing for an unbelievable and haunting TRUE story and respectfully does so, joining Spike Lee in telling the a story of hate from the 70s and leaving the audience with the hard-hitting truths that we still deal with similar hate, even now. [~ Katie]

RUNNERS UP:

2. Mary Poppins Returns by Marc Shaiman & Scott Wittman

3. Black Panther by Ludwig Goransson

BEST MAKEUP AND HAIR

1. Vice - Makeup and hair are such a crucial part of building the characters we see on screen - they help the actors embody the person they’re playing (literally!). The outcry when the Academy dared to suggest that they might bump this and other critical categories (Cinematography and Editing to name a couple for gawd’s sake - HOW DO YOU MAKE A FILM WITHOUT THOSE??!) to being hidden in the ad breaks was so vehement - and rightly so. I don’t know how many times I walked past the poster and ad screens for Vice and had next to no recognition at all for any of the main cast. When I eventually read the names under the pictures, I remember very loudly going “WHAT?! WHAAAAAAT?! all the way down the escalator in our local Cineworld (my partner can attest to his embarrassment at my outburst)… Steve Carell, Sam Rockwell, Amy Adams… and then we have Christian “So Method” Bale. 

Some people might argue that his transformation was mostly down to, as Marie suggests in our Lead Actor category, his increased pie intake and his unmatched ability to give himself over completely to the character.  But without the design and hard work every day of Greg Cannom, Kate Biscoe and Patricia Dehaney, he would have just been “Thicc, Evil Christian Bale” - not an almost-indistinguishable-from-the-real-thing embodiment of political monster Dick Cheney. 

There is an absolutely excellent article I found in which Cannom talks website Vox through his design and daily process and it’s frankly incredible. < find it here >  More incredible still, once he had a cast of Bale’s head (whom he says was wary of the process of SFX makeup and prosthetics as he hadn’t done it before) he only had two weeks to design and build the various ages of Cheney onto Bale’s very differently-shaped head. The quality of the skin (given a sweaty shine by an application of KY Jelly as a final step to the process, hilariously) is impeccable; the build of the silicone to completely change the shape of Bale’s face is grotesquely gorgeous. Across the board this is one of the most impressive examples of practical makeup and hair SFX I’ve ever seen - and in an age of CGId top lips to remove stubborn moustaches and digital de-ageing processes getting more and more advanced, this film proves the practical way is as strong and vital as ever and fully deserving of taking centre stage - on air - at the Oscars. [~Jen]

BEST COSTUME DESIGN

1. Black Panther - I couldn’t possibly pretend to be an expert on costume design or on the numerous African Tribal influences that have given these costumes their heart and soul. But, I can say that while watching Black Panther I was utterly blown away with the attention to detail, combined with the bold bursts of colour and creativity. I also can’t explain my sheer relief and empowerment of watching fierce female characters kick ass without the carbon copy, over sexualized outfit with matching heels. Now I don’t want my first blog post to cause too much of a divide, but I’m definitely referring to my eye roll during Wonder Woman right after I spotted those raised golden beauties... and just for the record, I actually loved Wonder Woman (and I love heels) but it was just so refreshing, and practical, without losing any of the superhero escapism we all long for.  The head costume designer Ruth E. Carter absolutely fulfilled all my ‘tribal-warrior-female-fantasy’ dreams (is that a category from RuPaul’s Drag Race?) and I left the cinema envious of her talent. Some of the costumes were literally pieces of wearable art and will no doubt be celebrated as such. [~ Kayleigh]

JOINT RUNNERS UP:

2. The Favourite / Mary Poppins Returns

BEST VISUAL EFFECTS

1. Ready Player One - This was one of the most difficult categories to vote for. All five films brought amazing innovations in the art of cinema and definitely deserve to be recognised for them and you know what, Reel Gals will! First Man combined a mixture of diverse sources for its aesthetic; visual effects, special effects, and even archival footage of the NASA launch. Solo gave us the perfect visual effect adaptation of the legend that Star Wars fans everywhere know as the 12 parsecs run. Christopher Robin created a photoreality mixed with shot on location footage so good, that its parody Trainspotting mashup video attests to its VFX perfection. Avengers: Infinity War had two different effects teams (TWO!) building the most realistic performance from Brolin’s onset one and could possibly land Marvel with their first ever effects Oscar. However, Ready Player One, created an entire virtual world that immersed characters and viewers alike by combining effects with animation. Remember The Overlook Hotel part from The Shining in the film? The blood? The scary twins and old lady turned into a zombie? That’s right, hand them that award now and then in true Mean Girls fashion, break it up and share with the rest. You’re all VFX queens. [~Lia]

RUNNERS UP:

2. Avengers: Infinity War

3. First Man

Which leaves us with just one more award to lay out… it’s the big’un. Can you guess what it might be, from our voting habits above?

BEST PICTURE

1. BlacKkKlansman - Winning our Best Picture vote - based on a true story, BlacKkKlansman is a spectacularly timely look at institutional and societal racism and bigotry - holding a mirror up squarely in the face of modern audiences. Set against the backdrop of the Ku Klux Klan’s ‘organised hate’ in 1970’s Colorado, it is equal parts horrifying and hilarious; poignant and relevant. The performances are compelling and perfectly balanced - most notably, the relationship between buddy cops John David Washington’s ‘Ron Stallworth’ and Adam Driver’s ‘Flip Zimmerman’ is nuanced and brimming with mutual respect, both for one another in character and as actors. The two have spectacular comic timing - but they both also boast the finely-honed acting chops to carry the Singularity-strength gravity of the themes presented by Ron Stallworth’s incredible true story. The beautifully-composed shots and off-kilter score compliment Spike Lee’s characteristically brave and politically-biting choices as director, exemplified particularly in the closing scene of his latest Joint, which (after a moment of levity and possibly the biggest laugh of the film) is affecting, desperately sad and deeply terrifying - and will stay with you for a long time.     [~ Jen]

RUNNERS UP:

2. Green Book

3. Roma

And that’s that. The audience’s sugar levels are low… The ‘get off the stage’ music has started playing… and the awards organisers are threatening to cut to an ad break. But before they can send the heavies onto the stage to forcibly remove us - it’s NOT OVER YET - *grabs microphone*  here are some nominations we would have added:

BEST PICTURE: First Man [Genuinely thought this was a shoe-in! ~Jen]

BEST SONG: Sunflower by Post Malone & Swae Lee for Spider-Verse [Honestly, the entire score for Spider-Verse was spectacular and I'm gutted it didn't get a nomination either, although it was tough enough as it is for best original score, as all nominations are stunning - BUT BEST SONG, where is this nomination? And WHY, GOD WHHHY is ‘I'll Fight’ on there? It genuinely made me want to pull out my eyeballs ~ Katie] [Couldn’t agree more. Ruth Bader Ginsberg deserves more than this old-fashioned early 2000s-style credit-roller ballad. You’re better than this, J-Hud. ~ Jen]

LEAD ACTRESS: Emily Blunt for A Quiet Place

LEAD ACTRESS: Viola Davis for Widows 

LEAD ACTOR: John David Washington for BlacKkKlansman [This omission I think has slightly tarnished Driver’s well-deserved nomination for Best Supporting; with a lot of people asking why the ‘white guy is the only one to receive an acting nom from a film about a black man’s struggles with the KKK’. I would suggest that Driver’s character Flip, as DJW’s character Ron states: “Also has skin in the game”, being Jewish - it’s hardly him doing a ‘Scarlet Johansson’, given the point of the story is that he’s Ron’s proxy and crucial to his takedown of the chapter. But then it *is* difficult to argue that the intentions of the Academy were (whether subconsciously or not) entirely well-intentioned on the matter of not including Washington in the nominations. ~ Jen]

LEAD ACTOR: Steve Carell for Beautiful Boy

BEST SUPPORTING ACTOR: Steve Carell (again - what a year he’s had!) for Vice

BEST SUPPORTING ACTOR: Timotheé Chalamet for Beautiful Boy

BEST SUPPORTING ACTRESS: Danai Gurira for Black Panther

VISUAL EFFECTS: Welcome to Marwen [This!! ~ Kayleigh]

BEST DOCUMENTARY FEATURE: Whitney [I would also say the editing of this was fantastic, if it's good enough for the Edinburgh Film Festival then it’s good enough for an Oscar consideration ~Robyn]  

And despite the outwardly more-diverse-than-usual (which still isn’t saying much) nominee list this year thanks to an extremely influential #OscarsSoWhite campaign and hopefully the beginnings of a turning of the tide for Hollywood (we hope - it's about bloody time something improved) - it seems the Academy aren’t quite there with equality and representation yet...

BEST DIRECTOR: A woman. Any women, for goodness’ sake. It’s 2019! A nod to Glasgow-born Lynne Ramsay for You Were Never Really Here, Marielle Heller for Can You Ever Forgive Me? and Debra Granik for Leave No Trace. Just in case the Academy didn’t think they had enough choice! [~Marie]

At time of writing, the other main awards events for the year have been and gone - and the differences in nominations and winners laid out by the Oscars, BAFTAs, Globes and Critics’ Choice nominees lists vs the reality of women’s film work in 2018 are still quite stark - specifically in contrast with events like the Independent Spirit Awards - (admittedly films like Green Book and blockbusters etc wouldn’t qualify) - who lavished their awards last night on films like If Beale Street Could Talk; You Were Never Really Here, Leave No Trace and Sorry to Bother You - notably with many of the winners crying out for more female representation in the nominations for Directing and other categories in film in general.

2018 was the strongest year for representation of women in film yet - with places like the BFI Film Festival presenting more female-led films than ever before in its history and how vociferous the support is getting for equal opportunity and recognition - importantly not only from women - in calling out these omissions-by-gender, here’s hoping the Academy will catch on. Eventually.

But until that time… thanks for joining us for our little pre-Oscars ceremony and our first proper blog! Cheers for reading, sharing and any hits of the like button are greatly appreciated… Thank you to the Academy… we’d also like to thank our parents, everyone who believed in us, Adele Dazeem, dogs (all of them) for being excellent...

*Rugby-tackled by security guards and dragged off-stage*

Xx ~ The Reel Gals

(Find us on instagram: reel_gals_of_glasgow | twitter: ReelGalsGlasgow)

#Oscars #film #filmreviews #oscars2019 #movies #adam driver #amy adams #christian bale #vice #blackkklansman #spike lee #mary poppins returns #cinematography #editing #mahershala ali #viggo mortensen #director #usa #europe #uk #Awards #black panther #roma #netflix #hollywood #olivia colman #emma stone #rachel weisz #lady gaga #review

[malthuswibble]

The Kiss: A Character Analysis (Spoilers, of course)

TLDR: the controversies over “The Kiss” tend to miss the point, which is that the kiss merely exposed the problematic nature of all of the main relationships in the show.

This summarizes a bunch of stuff I’ve thought about, some of it written in different places …

I’ve seen a lot of folks troubled by the kiss in various ways—that it’s “cheating” (and so makes the characters look bad); alternatively, that it isn’t the joyous culmination fans were hoping for—its awkward, not a happy event at all.  

This unhappy situation is, in fact, the whole point! Let me explain.

It should now be clear that a lot of what happened in season three that the fans did not like—particularly, that the whole Star-Marco relationship wasn’t what it used to be, and felt “off”—was fully intentional. It was a feature, not a bug.

In Booth Buddies, Star’s whole dilemma was exactly that: she understands that the “friendship pictures” she was taking now aren’t the same as the old ones, but doesn’t know why. We, the audience, can see that Marco isn’t into taking the pictures and is just doing so because Star orders him to.

The problem is that their entire friendship has become a by-the-rote façade (this is symbolized by the hundreds of pictures Star makes them take). Star gives orders to her “squire” and Marco obeys (or not, as we know he sometimes defies her) … a sad direction for best buddies who always had each other’s backs and were willing to sacrifice everything for each other.

How did it come to this?  

Simply put—none of the characters had the insight to understand themselves or the courage to openly confront their feelings, either to themselves or to each other. Romance, in particular, has become the “elephant in the room”—an angry one they have suppressed for so long, it has started to trample the furniture, as it were. The characters have all been lying, by omission or commission, to themselves and each other: none of the three main actors in this drama are without fault (indeed, the only character to finally not lie, and tell things as they actually are, was Jackie: but even then—she was willfully blind for a long time).  

None of the characters are morally right or wrong in this: they are all guilty—of being confused, of being untrue to themselves and each other. This mistakes have lead them to this pass, in which the kiss was simply the tip of a much larger iceberg that has been lurking under this entire season. Their mistakes threaten all of their relationships—and their relationships are the heart of the show!

How did Star mess up?

By not understanding her feelings for Marco, and not being honest about them when she did (until she blurted them out in the most awkward possible moment in Starcrushed). Then, in deciding to keep Marco close to her as her “squire”—even though it is clear Marco took it quite literally, as a job, and not merely a mechanism to give him standing on Mewni; and not having an open and honest discussion with him about their relationship—even though it was painfully obvious to everyone (including her boyfriend) that Marco must have romantic feelings for her … and now he sleeps in the very next room, is at her beck and call!

She seemingly drifted into a relationship with Tom. Does she really like him romantically, or just care about him as a friend who has impressed her with his vulnerability and his efforts to make himself a better persona and a better prince? It is hard to say—Tom, for one, isn’t sure, and is very anxious about whether he measures up to Marco. Star never acknowledges that Tom has good reason to be anxious—again, the pattern of being unwilling to be open and honest.

How did Marco mess up?

He never confronts Star’s revelation of her crush on him—leaving Mewni after the Battle for Mewni without so much as acknowledging her confession (something he recognizes was a mess-up in the episode: Star also acknowledges that it stunk!).

What was Star supposed to think?

Of course her heart was going to be broken—she very naturally assumed he didn’t mention it, because he not only didn’t like her in that way, he didn’t even want to think of her in that way! Recall that Marco and Star both agreed in Starcrushed that they just wanted things to be as they used to be … when he left, she was frantic; then she got over it, started dating Tom …

… then, he simply shows up out of the blue, announces that Jackie has dumped him, and expects Star to take him in.

Star was, predictably, not happy about this: from her perspective, he hung out with her—as a second-best, something to do when dumped. Initially, she wanted him out of her sight, so he won’t break her heart again.  

Marco already messed up his relationship with Jackie by not being honest and by his “tunnel vision” focus on Mewni (tunnel vision, focusing on one thing and ignoring the rest, always being one of his flaws, together with low self-esteem). He seriously risks messing it up--even worse—with Star.

How did Tom mess up?

Here, I’m being more speculative …

Tom attracted Star’s attention—again—in Club Snubbed. I’m not convinced this wasn’t a deliberate ploy on his part, as for two seasons he’d been trying in various ways to get her attention, and attacking her self-esteem is a tactic he’d used before (in Mr. Candle).

He kept her attention by proclaiming two things: (1) that he wanted to tame his anger issues; and (2) that he was inspired by Star wanting to be the best princess she could be.

The first point is definitely true: he has always wanted to tame his anger. This makes him endearingly vulnerable, a point he exploits to his advantage in Demoncism (I’m of the opinion that he told Ponyhead specifically so that she would tell Star: who in their right minds would tell Ponyhead a secret and expect her not to tell Star?).

However, I think the first point isn’t true: Tom isn’t really all that interested in Star’s mission to be the best princess she can be. Politics bore him, as he tells Marco in Monster Bash. The only reason Tom wants to go on adventures with Star, is because he wants her attention (as is made pretty clear in Is Another Mystery). What he appears to want is a more or less conventional relationship, in which they do conventional boyfriend-girlfriend things: smooching, dancing … in short, despite the fact that he’s literally a demon from the underworld, he’s very much a more conventional boyfriend choice for Star (as well as being a politic one, given he’s actually a prince!). The fact that he’s a self-proclaimed “monster” makes him an even better choice, as far as her mission as princess to bridge the monster-Mewman divide goes.

Why is this a problem?

Because in order to get that relationship, he’s been willing to mislead her and manipulate her. Now that he has it, he’s willing to simply humor her, to do what she wants and tell her what she wants to hear.

He’s not a bad guy (none of them are bad persons) and she could certainly do worse; but their relationship, while plenty affectionate, lacks passion because it is so one-sided—something that Tom has been at pains to conceal … but, very basically, they don’t really want the same sort of relationship… and Tom knows it. Their relationship started off on an unsound footing.   

Star may not know it intellectually, but she knows it on some level as well.

The proof? Whenever Star has a choice, she confides in Marco, not Tom; she chooses Marco, not Tom, to help her on her adventures … not because Marco is better at battling, but because they tend to complete each other, and when adventuring they truly feel like a unit.  

The Kiss

With the Kiss, the circle is finally complete: Star now knows, without a doubt, that Marco likes her romantically.

This, finally, cuts through the layers of self-ignorance, willful blindness, and deception, and Star has a choice to make …

Why this is Good (and Bad)

This situation shows the creators at their cunning (and exasperating) ways: they are willing to set things up for a whole season, without any explanation—for example, they are willing to have the Star-Marco relationship (a big draw for the fandom) seem “off” for nearly a whole season—just to give the relationship drama punch.

They are willing to have all of their characters appear morally and/or emotionally suspect, risking fans ceasing to care about their dilemmas.

The message I think is something like this: the characters can only “win” by being truthful to themselves and others, and deciding what they really want. Whether the kiss is, or is not, “cheating” isn’t the point—or is a very minor point: they did not kiss because it gave them sexual pleasure, but as a way to rip the band-aid off the wound that their relationships have become. That was necessary for them, because they could not simply carry on as they were—it was making them all unhappy.

Tom isn’t happy, because he’s always insecurely worrying that he can’t measure up to Marco (something on its face absurd – he’s a demon prince with magic powers, he’s a boy in a hoodie – but which makes emotional sense, as Marco has a partnership with Star Tom finds difficult or impossible to match).

Marco isn’t happy—in Booth Buddies, he even says more or less he doesn’t want to go on magical adventures (Star, upset: “I thought you liked going on our magical adventures!”) because the pain of bottling up his feelings is too great.

Star also isn’t happy. On the surface, she ought to be—after all, on the surface she gets everything she wants: she has a boyfriend in Tom AND gets to have Marco for adventuring! Marco is even her “squire” (a job he takes seriously) so he’s literally under her orders!

… but it all feels fake. It isn’t like it used to be, and Star knows the difference, just like she knows that the photo booth pictures are not the same.   

#star vs the forces of evil #svtfoe #star butterfly #marco diaz #tom lucitor #booth buddies

[thejokersenigma]

Nygma x Reader - Opposites Attract Part 4

Hiya!

Sorry this has taken a while - I'm back at uni now so it takes a while to get things done. I've been sat on this chapter for a while now, spending forever to edit it so I'm just going to go for it and post it!

Sorry if its not great, hope you enjoy it anyway!

P.S If you want to be tagged, let me know

PP.S If you want to send in a request for me to have a go at writing, just send me a message!

MASTERLIST

  Once I was sure everything in my house was locked and bolted I allowed myself to stop, leaning my hip into the kitchen counter as I caught my breath, and finally allowing myself to address what had just happened. I could already feel my mind trying to lock the image away deep in my mind to never confront again. But I couldn’t do that. The memory of the scene, the chase, the fall, the escape, all flashed back across my eyes and I felt my legs give way underneath me so I slid down the counter till I was curled up on the floor, by knees tight to my chest and the tears flowing hot and fast from my eyes.

I was fast questioning my own eyes. Could that truly had happened? You heard about it a lot in the news – Gotham was famous for its crimes – but it had never quite sunk into with me that these things truly happened. Especially not right in front of me on my usual route home.

My mind raced as I tried to come to some sense over what I had just witnessed. That man. The mysterious unnamed man from the coffee shop. The one I had practically fawned over in my mind for the past week. He was a murderer. I had seen him murder someone.

And then he’d come after me.

I gazed down at my grazed hands, the skin peeling over in places on my palms from where I had collided with the floor. He’d been so close. If I hadn’t managed to take him by surprise by fighting back I could well be dead right now. I shuddered at the thought.

Something in the house creaked and I froze. Was he here? Had he found me? I held my breath, my heart loud in my ears and cold sweat on the nape of my neck.

But nothing came.

My senses were on overdrive, every groan in my ancient house sounding like a set of footsteps coming for me, the strong wind on the windows at the front of the house sounded like someone trying to break in. I was too terrified to look up and confirm or deny my overactive imagination, simply keeping my eyes on the tiled kitchen floor, rocking slightly. If I couldn’t see it, it couldn’t get me.

I waited for my life to end.

I wasn’t sure how long I sat there, hugging myself tightly in the hopes of obtaining some comfort. Eventually, the exhaustion of the night caught up with me, overpowering my fear and giving me a false sense of almost calm. I pushed myself to my feet.

But he still wasn’t here yet. Maybe he couldn’t find me.

I shuffled over to my bag that sat a few feet away from me where I had thrown it down when I had raced into the house. I pulled out my phone. Why hadn’t I done this an hour ago? I dialled the police.

 At least I tried. The only answer on the other side of the line was static that then cut to complete silence.

I frowned at the screen before trying again. Nothing.

I had tried a few more times, even moving around the house to see if it was my signal. Same result.

I couldn’t reach the emergency services, there was clearly something wrong with my phone or the connection.

I began to panic. It was just me. I was on my own and vulnerable. I just prayed that the man couldn’t find me.

But I couldn’t lie to myself. The man worked for the GCPD, but – thought I barely knew the man – he struck me as someone whose knowledge didn’t end with his job. I didn’t think it would take too long to figure out a way to find me.

I stumbled, almost dazed, to the sofa and sunk myself down into the cushions, waiting for the inevitable.

 I didn’t sleep for the rest of the night. The constant fear that the murderer could be stood outside my house right now was constantly at the forefront of my mind. Every noise made me flinch and send my heart racing painfully fast. I’d wish he’d just get it over and done with. This was worse than simply killing me. This was a slow painful torture.

Eventually I had flicked on the TV, turning the volume up loud to drown out the sounds of the house, the voices from comedic soap keeping me company and making me feel less alone. I had stayed up all night, never feeling tired, adrenaline and fear far stronger than any caffeine.

It was only when I began to see a dim light behind my tightly drawn curtains that my eyelids began to feel heavy. At that point I finally moved from my position on the couch and made myself some coffee. I wasn’t going to let myself sleep.

I couldn’t believe I had survived the night. I wasn’t sure why I had. Throughout the night I had fruitlessly tried to contact the police again and again. Still to no avail. So why wasn’t I dead?

I rubbed at my eyes, splashing some water from the sink onto my face, the cold making my skin tingle.

I had made it through the night, I thought as I stared out my kitchen window, through the old, lacy blinds, the white no longer white. But now I had to survive the day.

The rest of the morning I debated leaving the house all morning. Trying to figure out what I did now. It reached 6am, around the time I would leave to open the café, but I didn’t want to open my front door. It had become my shield. As long as that door was shut I was safe from every horror in the outside world. I didn’t want to go to work. I shouldn’t go to work. But I couldn’t afford to not go to work – I was barely scraping the barrel as it was.

If I left I could get murdered and therefore there was no point in making the money. But if I didn’t go, I might not get murdered but I would lose all my money and therefore I would lose my job and then the house that was sheltering me.

Clearly, the fact that the murderer hadn’t paid me a visit during the night, meant he didn’t currently know where I lived. Therefore, I had to leave before he did. I couldn’t hide in my house forever and the police was clearly not an option right now. Not on the phone anyway.

But that didn’t mean I couldn’t report this in person.

I needed to get to the police station. And soon.

A few hours later I found myself sat on a bus heading to work. I never got the bus. It was a waste of money that I didn’t have. But it wasn’t safe for me to walk. It was barely safe to take the bus - not when I was most likely being hunted down by a murderer - but it had felt the only option left to me.

Now I anxiously sat in the grimy passenger seats, my eyes itchy and aching from exhaustion, and the vibrations of the bus persistently trying to lull me into sleep. But I didn’t want to sleep. I didn’t want to let down my guard for even a second. I had covered as much of my face as I could, thankful the weather was so cold that I could get away with a woolly hat pulled low and a thick scarf I could use like a cowl. My eyes watched the streets none the less, desperate to get a glimpse of him again, but also terrified to prove to myself that he was real and that he remained free to stalk the streets after me.

The bus would drop me off a street from my café - which itself was only a short walk to the station. I ran the risk of the him waiting for me at the station – after all he worked there – but it was also a building full of cops. He couldn’t touch me.

The minute I stepped off the bus I felt like I was on a timer, that I only a brief period to get myself to the ‘safehouse’ before the monsters in the shadows got me. The truth was, I was probably fine, that the killer was nowhere near me, but I still felt like eyes were burning into my back, his breath at my neck. I didn’t hesitate, hightailing it along the pavement, walking as fast as I could without breaking into a jog.

I didn’t breathe properly till I was under the archway that framed the entrance way of the police station. I could feel sweat dampening my skin and my cheeks burned as I pushed from the cold air into the warmth of the station. I was out of breath as I made my way over to the main desk, my eyes searching each side for any sign of the unnamed man.

“Miss [L/N]!” I jumped out of my skin, my head snapping forward again to face the person that now blocked my path. I stumbled back, putting space between me and the man before me. He was as I remembered him, tall, gangly, dressed in a cheap-looking suit, his hair neatly combed back. As I examine him again, everything about the guy told me I shouldn’t be afraid of him, but I was. I had watched him stand over a man, laughing after having stabbed him multiple times.

I tried to turn away from him, side stepping and attempting to move around him to reach the desk. “Miss [L/N]! Please! A moment!” He begged, grabbing my arm to prevent me escaping. I struggled against his grasp and he seemed to realise I wasn’t giving up without a scene so he released me. “Please, can I talk with you?” he pleaded earnestly.

“So you can murder me too?” I demanded angrily, “Fat chance!” I pushed past him now and stormed to the desk, leaving the skinny man behind me. “Excuse me!” I called across at the desk sergeant who was placing a few files away in a drawer, his back to me. “I need to report a crime.” I said ruthlessly, holding my head high – I didn’t care that the man was behind, or that he wanted me to stop.

The policeman behind the desk finally turned around to face me, “Yes ma’am, how can I help?”

I fought down the annoyance that rose at his blatant snub of my previous comments. “I need to report a crime.” I repeated, interlacing my shaking fingers and placing them on top of the desk, trying to keep myself calm after the shock of seeing him. “Last night, when I was walking home, I came across a fatal stabbing down Huldin street.”

“Ok, ma’am.” The sergeant said, finally appearing to take me seriously, “And who was the victim?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted, “I just ran - the murder saw me.” I explained and I couldn’t stop the panicky feeling creeping back on me as I remembered the night.

The man nodded, “And can you identify the assailant?”

“Yes.” I nodded, taking a deep breath to steady my nerves, “I don’t know his name, but I believe he works here.” I turned my head, craning behind me for a glimpse of the man that only a moment ago had grabbed hold of me. “He’s very tall, wears glasses, works in you forensics department.”

The desk sergeant looked at me blankly, “You think that one of the forensic teams committed a murder last night?” He asked clearly, clearly beginning to doubt my sanity.

“Yes, he was here a moment ago.” I added, desperately searching the room.

“Hey Jen!” The man behind the desk called to a passing woman in police uniform, “This woman seems to think one of the forensic team was out last night committing a murder!” H chuckled, a grin on his face, “What’d ya think of that?”

She snorted, “Which one? The one who lives with his mother, the one who says all those annoying riddles, or the one that is afraid of the dark?” She laughed.

“The riddle one!” I cried, snatching at the nugget of information, “He was the one I saw last night! He was stood over a man in the street, laughing!”

“Look lady, people might be killers, but no one laughs when they murder someone unless their insane – do you think we’d hire an insane person?” He asked, raising an eyebrow at me, and I knew I couldn’t answer truthfully without getting myself in more trouble. “Do you think you drank something funny last night, one too many bottles of wine?”

“I wasn’t drunk!” I yelled in frustration, “I hadn’t had anything to drink! I was coming back from work!” I cried desperately, pleading for him to believe me.

“Look, lady.” The policeman began, turning his full attention back to me and talking slowly in an attempt to calm me. “Do you have any proof? Because we can’t just arrest people without proof.” He explained.

“I – uh – well if you – maybe at the street, there might be – be something?” I asked, now seeing quite clearly that I wasn’t going to get anywhere with this man.

“Uh-huh.” He muttered with a nod, diverting his eyes away from mine and down to some paperwork he began to shuffle through on his desk, done with my time wasting.

I sighed, irritated. “Look.” I huffed, “Will you at least send someone over to the area – check that there’s nothing there? Please?” I begged.

The man looked back up at my beseeching face before letting out a heavy, laboured sigh, “Alright.” He huffed, “I’ll get someone to check it out.”

“Thank you.” I said, hesitating, wondering if it was worth pushing for him to do more, but I knew it wasn’t and I shoved myself away from the desk.

I turned back to face the exit, unsure what to do now. My life could be in danger and the police didn’t even believe me. I didn’t feel safe, but I didn’t know what to do.

I began to wander slowly towards the doors, hesitating under the large arch by the doorway. If I walked out of this building I could well be murdered, but this building itself held the murderer I was running from.

I stared blankly out into the grey morning, unable to make a decision. It had started to rain and a few drops dribbled down the dirty panes of glass held in the large solid doors.

“Miss [L/N]?” Came the voice again. I jumped slightly, but I didn’t turn this time. I didn’t want to face that man that was tearing my mind to pieces. “Miss [L/N]?” He persisted.

“What?” I snapped, throwing a sharp glance over my shoulder at him.

“Hi.” He greeted with an innocent grin, but I just scowled at him darkly before turning my face back to the window. “Look, I know what you think you saw last night –“ He began.

“What I think I saw?!” I repeated back at him angrily, turning sharply to face him, not afraid of him – in this moment he was just an annoying – admittedly cute – guy who wouldn’t leave me be. “I know what I saw!” I snarled, “I saw you stab that man over and over till he fell to your feet,” The man backed up warily as I leant into him, jabbing my finger at his chest. He glanced nervously around to see if anyone was listening in, “I watched as you laughed – laughed! – at the fact he was dead!” I cried furiously.

I could feel my breaths coming in sharp short breaths as I worked myself up. I was hit once more with the fact that I was lucky to be alive. I was sure that last night, had I not escaped him in that moment on the pavement, I would be a dead body alongside the other man. No one would have been left to stop him. “I will stop you.” I growled angrily at him.

He looked taken aback, like he didn’t know where this was all coming from, then he looked nervous and slightly panicky. “Please, [Y/N], I need to explain!”

“How can you possibly explain anything to me?! How can you justify murdering a man in anyway?” I demanded, but I didn’t give him a chance to answer. “Look, leave me alone!” I told him angrily, “And if you even dare to come after me again – whether the police believe me or not – I will not be afraid to defend myself in anyway necessary!” I threatened, though I knew the threat was empty – just because he wasn’t afraid to cross a few lines, didn’t mean I could - but I hoped he couldn’t read that in my eyes. I needed him to be at least a bit wary of me. It would be the only thing that might just keep me alive for now.

With that I turned and marched out the door, leaving him once more in my dust. I was surprised he didn’t follow me, but I didn’t look back, I didn’t stop. I went straight to the café, opening up as usual and getting everything ready for a normal. Because it would be a normal day. I would carry on my life as usual, but I would also stop that man. Whoever he was. I couldn’t stand by and watch him get away with it.

But at the same time, the man who had pleaded with me, grabbed desperately at my arm. He didn’t scare me. His eyes were soft and vulnerable, his hands – though they had gripped at me – had still been almost gentle, and he hadn’t raise his voice at me once.

But he was a murderer none the less. I had to remember that. I couldn’t forget it.

I had to stop him.

#nygma x reader #reader x nygma #nigma x reader #reader x nigma #Edward nygma #Edward nigma #ed nigma #ed nygma #opposites attract #opposites attract part 4 #thejokersenigma #thejokersenigma fan fiction #nygma x reader fan fic #reader x nygma fan fic #nygma x reader fanfiction #reader x nygma fanfiction #reader x nygma fanfic

[sogoodishouldchargeadmission]

Thanks for Listening Ch. 2

While I do remember the generalized sequence of events and corresponding timeframes that followed, some of it’s gone a little fuzzy. You can thank the potent mixture of adrenaline and head trauma I was forced to choke down for any inconsistencies.

So what did I say to Bower after he pointed a gun at me?

I probably tried to talk him down; all calm and level-headed and reasonable. Leadership has always been one of my best qualities. Tensions were high, sure, but I certainly wouldn’t have said something along the lines of “Go fuck yourself.” Does that even sound like me?

Yeah, I didn’t say that.

Promise.

Anyway.

In the end, my last words to him weren't important, because they were just that--the last words Sergeant Bower ever heard.

Now, he might’ve noticed the silence that had engulfed the outer city like a sheet of wool, if he hadn’t been so busy shoving a gun in my face. And then I might’ve been able to explain that that sudden lack of sound probably meant one of two things: that either the Stranded had won, and they were on their way home, or that the Locust had won, and you get the picture. (Let’s be honest, it’d be like a flock of flying monkeys either way.)  

Point being: Then and there would’ve been a pretty decent time to tap our ruby slippers three times fast and get the fuck back to Jacinto, or any place that felt like home, really.

But no. Bower had been dead set on getting those generators, flying monkeys--or giant flying squid things, as it happened to turn out--or not.

It’s a cliche, I know, but the Reaver really did come out of nowhere. A sudden parting of clouds and screaming shrill enough to break glass were the only warnings we got before the thing landed, shaking the ground and tearing up the pavement with its jagged tendrils.

Within an instant, Bower’s pistol became as threatening as a squirt gun.

For those of you who don’t know--and believe me, I’m not putting anything past you at this point--a Reaver is the Locust’s principal battlefield conveyance. That’s “horsey” to you, sans a few details. Just put on your imagination hats and picture a six legged spawn of satan that shoots rockets and lays onslaught to entire cities, carrying two gun-toting Locust the whole way. The sheer firepower on those things makes it difficult to fight them close range. Tentacles with the capacity to turn grown men into a fine jelly render it a task impossible. I won’t even go into the gaping maw of a thousand-plus teeth, or the fact that they can fly.

You know, I probably won’t ever get used to the way primal instinct turns my body into a machine of its own volition, but that’s also probably for the best; one minute I was six feet away from certain death, the next I was behind a hollowed out minivan, not only holding a gun but shooting it. Theta seemed to forget our quarrel, too, so I guess something can be said for that Reaver; by putting our lives in danger, it got me out of a sticky situation. Oh, I didn’t doubt that if we made it home alive, Bower would have a stick up his ass for the next five to seven weeks. But for the moment, I didn’t have to deal with him.

Unfortunately, not all of us got to go home.  

Castle was already gone. I caught a glimpse of him as my last few rounds went into the Reaver’s passenger-side Locust, bloodied and broken on the pavement.

The Stranded were gone, too, but I didn’t see any of their bodies; it’s most likely they booked it into the bellies of crumbled infrastructure before any of us could say shit. Not that I would have; a fighting chance is all I’d wanted to give them in the first place.

Private Lester, for his credit, mustered up enough courage to unholster his Lancer and point before the Reaver fired its first round of ballistiks. There was a hiss and a boom, and for a second I was blinded by the close-range explosion. When the smoke cleared, Lester was nothing more than a stain on the sidewalk.

What’s that? This is making you queasy? Well, don’t let me ruin your lunch. We can change the topic to:

“Why the fuck don’t you people give us enough bullets?”

In case that wasn’t clear enough, this an official complaint regarding ammunition distribution. Not to be that person, but I’ll bring up the whole paper thing again, if it gets my point across:

Along with a note to ‘please use sparingly’, I woke up today to find a stack of the stuff by my bedside--thanks for that, by the way. Real dignifying.

If you cared so much about people not using this dwindling resource as origami or ass paper, maybe you shouldn't hand it out like it grows on trees. Look outside--there are no trees! So far, I’m seven sheets in. A less responsible human being might’ve had seven airplanes by now, and you wouldn’t have noticed or cared.

And yet there I was with a suddenly empty cartridge, and no goddamn bullets to remedy. Why? Oh, because munitions need to be kept under lock and key. God forbid someone takes as much as they need to save the world.

Seriously, guys, make something happen. Challenge yourselves a little.

What else could I do but start looking for a way out? The Snub Pistol I had left wouldn’t serve much purpose against a Reaver, and it’s just as well I saved it; that ammo turned out to be really useful. I mean, there’s always the blaze of glory option, but I wasn’t feeling it. And with Bower in his own little world of old-timey heroics, and Miles suddenly nowhere to be seen, I thought I’d take it upon myself to figure out the getaway sequence. For starters, that meant hightailing it back to the Packhorse; the turret on its bed would serve as a far superior weapon against our many-legged friend, and then it would just be a matter of picking up the rest of Theta and riding off into the sunset.

Despite whatever occured between Bower and me, I could’ve lived with it. And he should have lived to live with it, but I couldn’t stop what happened next.

By then, the Reaver’s pilot was dead too, leaving us a raging bullet-sponge with no master to say ‘heel’. The rockets on those things fire automatically--so we still had to duck and cover at every fifteen second interval--but for the most part, I saw a window of opportunity. I started running.

Bower took that opportunity to stay right where he was. Maybe he thought by letting the Reaver stand over him, he could shoot at its vulnerable underbelly and save the day. Maybe he didn’t notice the things advancement at all.

For his credit, I doubt he was afraid--the man was a bully, not a coward.

Whatever the case, I got to the Packhorse and turned around just in time to see Jacob Bower fold in on himself like an accordion. Under pressure of the Reaver’s thousand-pound arm, his insides had nowhere to go but out.

Luckily I don’t have nightmares. But if I did, his death would be the one to keep me up at night. God knows I’ve been having enough daydreams about it.

“It is what it is” doesn’t really cover everything, so for the record: I’m not proud of being the only person who got out of there alive, but I’m not apologizing, either. If going back at some point and getting their tags helps everyone feel a little less butthurt about what happened, then great. But a few snotty comments made by a few uninformed assholes in the mess hall isn’t going to make my heart heavy or my tummy hurt, so no need to try.

Theta Squad chose poorly. I didn’t. Boo-fucking-hoo.

I got in the truck and went to turn the key. There was no key.

I won’t lie, for half a second my jaw dropped and my blood boiled.

Regulations dictate that keys stay in the ignition for this very reason, but we all know what kind of person Bower was by now. I spared the pigheaded son of a bitch a glance, but fuck if I knew which pocket he’d bothered to use. Anyway, he wasn’t the only thing in about a million different pieces. That key was unequivocally dead, too, so it was on to plan B.

Oh, to jump start a vehicle. If my grandfather hadn’t beat the living shit out of me every time I messed with one of his old jalopies, I would consider those early summer mornings spent practicing in his garage to be some of my fondest childhood memories.

Once upon a time, stood on a toolbox, up to my elbows in learning, and so forth.

Don’t worry, I won’t bore you with recollections from the dog days of boyhood, or the science behind hotwiring a Packhorse. Just know that it wasn’t a fun time.

The truck wasn’t so bad, though.

For what it’s worth, the Reaver was ignoring me. Maybe it hadn’t noticed that I’d booked it down the street, but I’m of the opinion that ‘smooshed people goo’ is just more captivating to their kind. Hey, maybe it was something altogether deeper, but you don’t want to hear my theories about a flying squid contemplating life outside enslavement, do you? Yeah, I thought not.

Either way, Flyboy (is it weird if I name it?) stayed put, poking and hissing and (maybe) pondering its own existence. How long that welcome lack of attention/existential crisis would last, I didn’t know. Plus, the things rockets were still launching, which meant with some good aim, decent timing, and a little bad luck, I’d go up like a drum of imulsion set to the tune of ‘Baby, you’re a firework’, except I really didn’t want to be.

Think of a sitting duck. Square it, name it Damon, and there I was.

And yet.

You’ll probably call my ability to get the Packhorse started in less than two minutes a “product of superior COG training” or some similar brand of bullshit. I call it talent. The feelings that went with the engine turning over might’ve even been classified as “warm” or “fuzzy”, but then again, I wasn’t given very long to process them.

Now, I know that some of the people reading this have serious heart conditions that render said organ cold, black, or nonexistent. Others in your little clubhouse have never met the umbrella-toting cricket that tells them right from wrong, so we’ll have to excuse them too.

But maybe there are a few of you that have been experiencing a nagging sensation for the past eight to ten paragraphs; something similar to the nagging sensation that I’d been experiencing for the past eight to ten minutes.

The line you’re looking for is “aren't we forgetting something?”

And yeah, close, but it was actually someone.

Private Miles--yes, that Private Miles--decided to come out of hiding. I guess the minute he heard the Packhorse, panic set in, and he figured himself a goner; kind of a late-onset fight or flight response, and he suddenly chose flight.

Hate to break it to you, but things went the route of Icarus real quick.

See, his chosen hiding-spot this whole time had been the building behind Flyboy. To get to me from where he was would require a hell of an act. In light of our situation, there were a few roles he could’ve taken on that would have sufficed. Incognito Spy, for instance. Stoic Hero, another good choice. Shit, I would’ve been happy with Action Man, if it meant a distraction, or an over-the-top plan, or something.

He went with Damsel in Distress, complete with all the theatrics you could possibly imagine. His high-pitched screams certainly caught the Reaver’s attention.

Me? I’ve never wanted to simultaneously cry and run someone over up until that point. Don’t worry, though. I kept the waterworks in check.

Hey, before you get any funny ideas about sticking a bag over my head and shouting ‘fire’ at sunrise, let me explain.

See, with Mile’s running at me and Flyboy stomping after him, there was suddenly no time to get to the turret. I could’ve turned left or right onto the road, ensuring my own safety, but instead made the selfless decision to floor it into my coworker.

...Okay, I can see how that’s still kind of disturbing. I’m not done yet.

They were fifty yards away, roughly. The Reaver was still firing rockets, which left me a thirteen second window to grab Miles and turn out of the blast radius. Obviously, I couldn't stop the truck to do that. Luckily, I didn’t have to.

Disowning all instincts regarding self-preservation, I accelerated, fast, and drove head on into Private Miles. After hitting the hood of the Packhorse, he rolled up the windshield and into the waiting embrace of the truck bed. It was all rather graceful, considering.

No, I’m not going to explain my reasoning or thought process or how I knew that would even work other then that I was attending La Croix at fifteen. You do the head scratching. I’ll do the math.

Sharp turn, big boom, yada yada, and then we were off--me navigating the unfamiliar streets of Hale with a white-knuckled grip, and Miles doing his best to break the rear-view window instead of...oh, I don’t know...manning the turret and saving our asses. Evidently, he thought the sardine-can interior of our vehicle would be safer. That, or he was lonely out there.

By then, I’d gotten us a few blocks, swerving to avoid Flyboy’s missiles and increasingly daring kamikaze attempts. He was back in the air and I was hoping to lose him, utilizing as many alleyways and underpasses as I could come across.

I flinched when shards of glass flew into my hair. Miles had taken to using his helmet, apparently, and the window stood no chance against such a combination as metal and hysterics. Next thing I knew, he was clamoring into the back seat, then up into the front seat.

I remember only a few more things--Miles, a mess of curly brown hair and freckles and sweat. His wails, incessant and incomprehensible and even younger sounding, now that his helmet was gone. His hand, reaching out, grabbing my arm, grabbing the steering wheel.

I wish I could recall every detail of the crash--how it happened, what went wrong. But nothing is ever as simple as fading to black.

Honestly, it just feels like I went to sleep.

#Gears of War #Fanfiction #Damon Baird #Marcus Fenix #Agustus Cole #Dominic Santiago #Delta Squad