#Here’s some Dutch bros it’ll make you feel better

[totally-oregon]

Why are you Oregon? Stop it.

why are you mxamalgam? Stop it.

[stephspurs]

A Family Affair | Euro 2020 Football Fanfiction - BONUS MOMENTS

Surprise!!! I'm back with a select few bonus #bamelia moments!! I just couldn't let the love story of Ben and Amelia die, I hope you don't mind. Love Always, Steph xx

PSA: To all new readers, you don't have to read the series (link below) to understand this, however it would help so that you can understand the preconceived emotions behind the chapter!

Champions Again | di nuovo campioni

warnings; none word count; 1865 writing tools; third person until dashed line, first person thereafter. link to fic masterlist here

They had done it, again. The Chelsea boys were lifting their second team trophy for the year, they had just won the Supercup. This was Amelia’s first competition final with the Premier League giants and if she had her way, this wouldn't be last. She was beginning to get addicted to the feeling of winning, of proving to every little girl out there and every sexist male she had ever come across, that anything boys can do, girls can do better. She was letting her results speak for themselves, she was making history and there was nothing that could bring her down from the ninth cloud she was currently riding.

As proud as she was over her own achievements, she was equally as proud of her friends. Whilst she wasn’t part of their Champions League victory, she knew that this moment was just as special to the team that just loved to win. The scenes before her were ones she hoped she would never forget - the look on Jorgi’s face as he lifted his third trophy of the last few months, the crinkles beside Mason’s eyes as he grinned at the camera that was desperate to capture every moment of the evening, the tinge of pink on the apples of Ben’s cheeks as he stood with his hands on his hips while he watched Amelia give her first post-match tactical analysis to the Sky Sports reporter - proud that she was his girl. These were the moments that made Amelia forget all of the hard times, or rather made her realise that all of the hard times were worth it to see her friends, her team, her man smile.

With every great victory comes an even greater after party, and even though the Super Cup final coincided with the start of the season, the boys still believed that they deserved an afterparty to celebrate. Captain Cesar Azpilicueta had kindly offered the grounds of his Surrey home to host the bunch of rowdy boys, and their onslaught on mates and partners on the Sunday afternoon between the Super Cup final and the first match of the Premier League 21/22 season. Whilst they were under strict instruction from the higher powers of Chelsea Football Club (namely; Thomas Tuchel) to keep the drinking to a minimum and to keep themselves out of trouble, the boys were allowed to be boys for one more night.

______________________________________________________________

“Benj, what are you wearing? I don’t know if I should wear a sundress or denim shorts! Please, I need help!” I shouted out to Ben who was currently somewhere in his large house.

“Why would my outfit be able to help you with that decision” I could hear his voice getting closer, his footsteps getting louder as he began to ascend the stairs up to the main bedroom that I had slowly started to take over in the last couple months.

“An opinion is all I’m after - stop being cheeky mate” I shoot back at him as I begin to stand up from my place in front of his wardrobe. It was still his wardrobe, he hadn’t asked me to move in yet so it was still technically his even if it was half full with my clothes. As I got to my feet, I turned to see him leaning in the doorway with his arms and ankles crossed over each other. Wearing a tee shirt and some denim shorts himself with a cap covering his ungelled hair - a request from me because it was much easier for me to run my hands through if it wasn’t laden with gel...and because it gave me an excuse to push it out of his face whenever I felt like it (which was often).

“I wouldn’t mind if you stayed in that outfit to be fair, however, that would also mean we would be skipping this afterparty altogether and be spending the afternoon celebrating in an entirely different manner” He states staring at me while I’m currently standing with my hands on my hips, staring at the shorts and tank top combo I have laid out on his bed - again, his bed not ours - he hasn’t asked me to move in yet so it was technically his even if it did have the new bed sheets I purchased a couple weeks back with the matching throw cushions on it. The barely-there outfit that I was currently sporting and that had him licking his lips as he pushed himself off of the doorway to walk to me and wrap his arms around my body from behind was a bralette and a pair of his Chelsea shorts.

“Ok sorted, you’re in denim shorts so I’m going to wear mine too. Done ok move get off me I need to change or we’re going to be late” I exclaimed as I pushed him off me with my hips. A bad move? Absolutely not. I got to feel all of him against me and remind him of what he gets to come home to every evening, if he choses.

“Wow what's the rush now Mils? Why are you walking around like you’ve got ants in your pants?” He questioned as he tightened his grip on me and turned me so I was facing him, looking up into his curious baby blues.

“And don’t say nothing, I’ve picked up on all of your tells already” He further questioned as he could see the wheels begin to turn behind my eyes, desperate to come up with an excuse to mask my jitters so I wouldn’t have to tell him the truth.

“I regret ever letting you become friends with Fede, he’s spilling all of my secrets...Ok fine. I’m nervous to see Jack. I haven’t seen him since...ya’know and I haven't spoken to him since I gave him a telling off before international break and Ben I promise you I haven't thought about him once but I’m still worried that there's unresolved anger there from him and I don’t want to get into it again just when we’re getting back into the groove of us and it’ll impact your friendsh-” my rambling was cut off by his lips, which were simultaneously reminding me to breathe between my words and leaving me breathless at the same time. He always did have a way with his lips, the power they held over me was unmatched by anything.

“Calm down love, I promise it’ll be okay. Jack and I have had it out already, a long chat on international duties which may have only been prompted because Mase and Dec locked us in the kit room after our first session, sorted it all out.” Ben reassured me as he began to rub his thumbs over my cheeks and his hands held both sides of my face.

“I do know he wants to apologise to you though - so don’t be surprised if he tries to do that early on in the evening. You know just how awkward he can be so he’ll probably spring it on you before you’ve even put your bag down.”

“Oh great, I’m gonna need to do a couple shots before we leave the house - you’re good to drive right?” I said as I walked from his grasp and down the stairs to grab the bottle of vodka for some good old fashioned dutch courage.

______________________________________________________________

Ben was right about Jack, he had approached the couple only moments after they had arrived at Azpi’s house. Amelia had spotted him making his way towards them so she began to walk in a different direction to Ben, stretching their interlocked hands and letting him go as she mumbled something about needing to put her bag down. Ben really knew both of them too well. Jack gave Ben a hug hello, still in the grovelling stage of repairing their friendship.

“Hey bro, how’s it goin?” Jack spoke as he pulled away from Ben.

“Yeah bro all’s good with me, how are you? Congrats on the move again, million dollar geez you are, aren’t ya? Don’t forget me when you're mingling with Messi in a couple years” Ben joked back with the boy who has been literally a brother to him for the last few years.

“Ahhh you’re jokin me, could never forget a brother could I? We’re basically blood at this point I reckon. Where’d Mils run off ta?” Jack questioned with his arm around Ben’s neck, both of the boys looking out into the garden for the girl in question.

“Right here super Jack” Amelia spoke from behind them. During their brief discussion, Amelia had put her bag down and ran inside to grab herself a drink before walking out to face the music of Jack’s apology. Overhearing how lighthearted he was with Ben, coupled with the reassurance that Ben had provided her earlier in the evening plus the two or three vodka shots she had downed in their kitchen before coming to the afterparty had meant that she left her worries at the door.

“Mils, darlin', you already know what's coming but I truly am sorry...to both of ya ya’know. Benny, we’ve already had it out and it took me ages to get over that black eye but please believe me when I tell ya I am so sorry for treating you that way Amelia. From the bottom of my heart, I am sorry and I regret nothing more than how I made you feel.” Jack could feel himself getting teary whilst thinking about how he made the girl feel, how he made his best mate and chosen brother feel, how he really put a spanner in the works of their blossoming relationship.

“Jack, I’m not going to say it was ok because it wasn't. But it wasn’t just your fault, I also played a part in it that has me cursing myself every day for ruining things with Benj. I forgive you, Jacky.” Amelia spoke while reaching up and wrapping her arms around Jack’s neck to give him one of her signature squeezy hugs, to truly convey that she was moving on from their tumultuous past and hoped that he could stop beating himself up over it and do the same.

Jack had left the couple to return to the table and grab himself a refill of his drink. Ben’s arm had found its natural position around Amelia’s shoulders as they both stood there looking out at their friends. However, Ben was looking down at Amelia. Without missing a beat and keeping her eyes focused out on the yard, Amelia spoke only loud enough for Ben to hear.

“So, you gave Jack a black eye over me huh? That’s hot”

Amelia took a few steps forward before turning to look at the expression on Ben’s face as she continued to walk away from him, backwards. The slight shock turned into a full on smirk as he walked towards her eager to close the gap between them with a kiss. He knew she loved him with her whole heart, but he hoped that she would understand just how much he loved her right back.

The Proposal | la proposta

[steve0discusses]

Yugioh S3 Ep 43: Tea Can Just Knock Over Joey Wheeler With Her Index Finger

Guys guys guys, my favorite Character is back. That’s right--the storyboarder!

So this episode looked helllla nice for a Yugioh episode (again, this is Yugioh, it will win no awards.) It wasn’t as nice and fluid as the episode where they temporarily killed off Joey Wheeler, but I give it a good 2nd place.

You can tell we’re getting to the climax of the season because they’re throwing down their most entertaining art people onto the screen, giving us about 5 zillion dutch angle fashion close-ups of Marik’s cabbage face, and a whole lot of zany and hard to very hard to draw fish-eye lens angles of Pharaoh.

Also, everyone wears flared bell-bottom pants now. New stylistic decision, as decided just now. Everyone in pants now has flares. Even if their pants are cargo pants. How very 00′s. (my pants were flares from like birth until 2006, it was a good trend, super comfy, bring it back.)

(read more under the cut)

First off, Evil Marik decided to rewrite Marik history a little bit with some hilarious retconning that only the most evil Marik would think is legit.

I mean I was there when Marik was introduced and was a complete asshole all of S2. I remember when Odion considered murdering the hell out of his little brother because this Marik guy was such freakin tool and his Dad was an evil cultist bastard. I...I’m gonna go on a limb and assume that calling Marik a “loyal servant” is a freakin stretch. Marik made his choices. Yes, his bad side killed his Dad, but they have made sure to indicate that yes, this is the evil inside of Marik, something that he himself caused--but most of the things that Marik has done (with the exception of killing his own Dad) is still Marik. He did that.

The fact that his evil side can’t quite connect that his good side and evil side are at all the same however, is fitting for an evil Marik to think. More and more, Marik and Marik are becoming 2 different people, and this game is the deciding factor to finally give this guy full autonomy of his other half.

We’ve seen this type of contrast before with Bakura and Ryou--where Ryou and Bakura don’t really get along but have always been clearly different people, so the culpability of what they do tends to fall on Bakura. (which is a pretty GRAND assumption, I still think Ryou is a precious but absolutely still shady little bastard) So, it’s a little different that Marik considers himself two completely different people when it’s just...not the same. Marik’s alter ego is just an ego. More like how Yami was in Season Zero but a little bit more evil. Both Marik’s have the same upbringing and the same source.

It’s been kind of an interesting progression now I can look back on it, where slowly the two have been clashing to the point that they are in fact different, disparate people now. The fact that Marik points out how his situation similar to Yugi and Pharaoh being a host is almost like “well yeah, it would have been nice to see how the whole Season Zero Yami evolved into more of a separate person over time, I’m glad you inferred that, and I’ll never get to see it, thanks” But again, all that is inferred. Whether Yami Yugi eventually became Pharaoh over time or whether Pharaoh is a big retcon of Yami Yugi for the new series in order to keep the culpability for what he does off of Yugi Muto was never directly spoken in the show so it’ll be left to your fanfictions.

Meanwhile, Yugi has decided that they’re going to try and purify the Marik situation and save the good side. This is sort of the Yugioh thing, to dispel the bad forces from people and leave behind hollow husks, so yeah...it tracks. I mean...there’s very little Marik left to save, but it’s better than a husk, amiright? Better than what happened to freakin PaniK, RIP. I’m sure erasing over half of your identity will go over real well for Marik and be absolutely painless.

And then we had a lovely scene that, for those people doing scene redraws from anime, as has been a popular trend on art blogs lately--this is your episode for Yugioh. This episode’s got moody lighting, we’ve subdued all our weird ass colors into one concrete palate (remember how green the carpet used to be?) we got interesting elements of Marik being here despite being chopped into pieces. We got so many ellipses drawn in perspective (y’all I could write an entire posts just about ellipses but I’ll spare you). It’s like Yugioh gave itself a redraw.

I can’t believe this shot came out of freakin Yugioh.

Also, this guy was an ASSHOLE for the past 2 seasons but the show was like “time to make him likeable” and so they dropped some good ass cinematography and sung that sad backstory tune on the trumpet and you know what? It works.

+++++++++++++++RANT ABOUT REDEMPTION ARCS FEEL FREE TO SKIP THIS MASSIVE WALL OF TEXT++++++++++++++++++++++++

Now I think the arc of Marik is pretty simple and people are pretty chill with it. But, I’m gonna talk about villain redemption arcs just in general--gonna sidetrack a little from Yugioh for a moment. Partly because I watched 6 seasons of Once Upon a Time, which is basically Villain Redemption Arc Controversy: The Show.

It bothers a hell ton of people when TV shows have to make a villain redeemable, but there’s only one episode left so they put their hands up and say “but I swear the good side of him was always good” But, does that mean Marik’s going to make up for all the murder and sending people to the shadow realm? No. He never will. Even if Marik was completely his bad half the whole time, it still wouldn’t make up for the damage done. Dead people are...DEAD.

Marik can’t actually make any choices right now to redeem his character. All he’s doing is accepting he will never be a full person ever again. Hence why he is in slices and pieces, and in several shots is trapped either in an empty glass or a window. The choice to redeem him is entirely on other people.

And that’s the thing about redemption arcs that I want to bring up--how much of a character’s redemption relies on what the villains do to “Make up for what they did”, and how much relies on everyone else to redeem them. I think the tendency is for people to assume that the villains should be doing 90-100% of the redeeming, but unless they have a time machine--they can’t do any. Even if they freakin die to sacrifice themselves it’s still like “that character was basically little Stalin, right?

I’ve seen like a million ways to write a redemption arc, but none of them, not a single one that I can think of, can ever truly make up for the things the villian has done. There’s no way that Darth Vadar was suddenly going to become a good Dad, no matter how many Palpatines he can toss into a...whatever that was at the end of that movie. That’s the riddle behind what makes redemption arcs so engaging--By all cultural standards these villains should always be tagged a “bad guy” but, we, the audience, are being challenged to ignore those standards.

And I know a lot of people see redemption arcs as a quasi-religious sort of adventure into atonement, where we’re supposed to see ourselves as the villain searching for some type of forgiveness from a higher, most-likely-a-reference-to-Jesus-power, but I don’t really see them that way. Maybe it’s because, I dunno, I haven’t killed anyone recently or possessed other people’s minds or strung them up to anchors and dropped them into the ocean. But if you see yourself as a Marik, then go for it, I won’t stop you.

But, to me, a redemption arc is more of a question posed for us as viewers. Since it is impossible for the writers to ever fully redeem a character, the only ones doing the redeeming are the people watching it, who’s reaction will differ wildly from person to person, and that’s what makes it fascinating.

And like, that’s my thesis here at the very last paragraph of this long meandering rant. Redemption arcs aren’t about “hey is this person good enough to be redeemed (because that will never happen)” it’s “are you too good to redeem that person?” It’s a large scale experiment on the viewers watching and that’s why it makes people so freakin pissed and uncomfortable. Every redemption arc calls them out directly, and for some people it’s just like--the world ends or something. I have seen actual internet mobs develop over...a villain redemption arc. Which is weird.

And so I’ll leave it with my other spicy take that...you don’t have to redeem every villain when the question is asked. I mean these aren’t real people. The questions of “would you redeem this person” is asked entirely hypothetically. And that’s what makes up stories, not just the interaction of the people inside the stories, but when it affects the moral structure of the readers directly, and seeing how for some people, that can be a very intense and deep reflection. (which usually leads to a hell ton of either retconning fanfiction or a hell ton of really, really angry posts)

bro’s just told me that Yugioh is just a redemption arc for season 0 Yami Yugi. Bro and his spicy headcanons. This one holds some water though, lol.

++++++++++++END OF A SUPER LONG RANT ABOUT VILLAINS THAT I HELD IN FOR THE ENTIRE 6 SEASONS OF ONCE UPON A TIME, WOW A LOT OF PEOPLE HAD OPINIONS ABOUT CERTAIN CHARACTERS THAT THEY JUST EXPECTED EVERYONE ELSE TO HAVE, AMIRIGHT????+++++++++++

Anyway, back to jokes.

Again, Storyboarder just...nailing these weird ass shoes that are somewhere between a dress shoe and a boot. Shoes are hard to draw, y’all. This storyboarder. And they even made sure that the shoes looked very small and precious the way Yugi shoes would be. Little Cinderella size 5 Yugi shoes.

Oh finally.

So it was only a matter of time before the people who actually care about being possessed noticed this situation, it just took like...a season longer than I thought it would. I’ll be honest it was quite cathartic for them to actually address for the first time in what feels like a long time “SHOOT, GHOSTS!?!?”

Although it was kind of funny that the biggest reaction to all of this came straight from Joey. Yugi still doesn’t care, Tristan’s decided to just accept this, and Duke is just slowly backing away. But Joey’s going to try and do the work that Yugi should have done last episode.

HOT DAMN.

So, lets go over the Yugioh power chart here. Tristan can punch out Bakura. Tristan can also defeat Seto Kaiba with a broomstick. Joey can kick Tristan, even when Tristan is armed with a broomstick, so hard that Tristan flew through a metal door and bent it completely over backwards. Tea, however, can knock Joey completely over with one single index finger.

How has this girl ever been abducted? Was she just bored?

Bro wants to bring up that she once incapacitated a man with her butt. Just falling on top of a guy and hitting him with her butt of steel. Was she even in danger from the shipping container when she could just bat it away? She once choked out Season 0 Yugi Muto. She was always fine.

Credit to Joey, he keeps trying, and it gives us, for the first time, a sneak peek into what it must be like for Yugi and Joey to hang out on the offtimes that Yugi switches over and Pharaoh hasn’t quite gotten the memo.

This is in fact, the second time that she’s done this.

(meanwhile, sitting next to Odion, is one single cargo pocket floating in the air, gently smoking a purple haze like incense)

Welcome back Odion! I only now just realized how freakin jacked your neck is.

Like y’all his neck is wider than his head, hot damn.

Anyway, this show is secretly all about the power of big brothers, so I assume he’s going to start the mile long crawl to the top of the tower and then just...walk in...just walk right into a shadow game...?

...no one thought to stay with Odion? Like not even Serenity? Or at least leave him a weelchair? what the hell?

Odion always gets the worst wrap, this poor guy.

Anyway if you just got here, this is a link to read these recaps in chrono order from the beginning and watch my progression of knowing nothing about Yugioh to knowing a lot about random facts about Yugioh but still knowing absolutely nothing at all just like Socrates.

And here’s that shot of Marik for y’alls anime scene redraws, knock yourself out.

[letamreviews]

Top of 2019

With 56 films watched and 27 favorited in 2019, I composed a list of my top. By pure happenstance, the list is almost an exact third (18) of the total films watched. Be aware that I don’t have as much to say about some of these because I took no notes after.

Because I’d be biased towards them, I don’t count the National Theatre Live plays.

Since the list is likely to be altered between now and the end of February (to accommodate for films missed), check the Lettboxd list later on to see an up to date listing, but be aware that it intentionally lacks the details provided here.

EDIT (01/04/20):

Woke up this morning religiously re-reading this and caught some grammar errors. It’s almost like staying consistently well-rested is actually beneficial. While I’m at it, Blind Rating (BR) is how worthwhile the film is watching “blind” (or knowing nothing). The scale is 1 (worth it) to 5 (you must). ‘Eh is essentially a 0.5.

1. Midsommar (USA)

Saw the original and Director's Cut in theatres and discussed them with a group immediately after both times. I’m somewhere between really liking it and loving it. Still unsure. Hell of an experience with a lot to notice, debate over, and pick up on during the second viewing. Don’t even get me started on the Christian/Dani matter. Dat tension, tho. Blind Rating: 4/5

2. Us (USA)

Saw in theatres and discussed with a group immediately after. I’m digging the allegories and the way (I think) it reflects on society. Dem reveals, tho. Blind Rating: 4/5

3. Toni Morrison: The Pieces I Am (USA)

Saw in theatres and discussed with a group immediately after. Two things probably play a huge hand in this not being atleast 3 spots lower: my demographic and the fact that her older self constantly reminded me of my grandma and a certain middle school teacher. Regardless, it’s an entertaining, interesting, and lively documentary with its many personalities on-screen all giving their take on matters along with Ms. Morrison herself. Glad they managed to finish and release this 1.25 months before her death. Blind Rating: 0/5

4. When They See Us (USA)

Saw on Netflix over the course of a month. Y’all, this one hurt too much to watch again any time soon. Admittedly, part of the reason why it hit me so hard is because I could easily have been one of them. Dat ending, tho. Don’t forget to watch the Oprah followup When They See Us Now after. You’ll ball (again). Blind Rating: 3/5

5. Parasite (South Korea)

Saw an advance screening in theatres and watched a live post-film Q&A. I really like it. This hit me in such a way that it’s one of three films I’m writing an essay on. Planing on watching it a second time soon so I can finish with a sense of accuracy. This isn’t one that I would recommend looking at images for. There are some that will spoil the experience of the second half. Seriously, block the “Parasite” tag from your feed if you can. Blind Rating: 3/5

6. Luce (USA)

Saw in theatres and discussed with a group immediately after. This was is so~ good as a thriller and especially in regards to being Black in America. Wanted to watch it a second time but never managed to squeeze it in before it left theatres. Dem performances, tho. Dat tension, yo. Dat score, bro. Blind Rating: 1/5

7. Them That Follow (USA)

Saw in theatres and discussed with someone immediately after. I love it. Blind Rating: 1/5

A drama influenced thriller about a religious and somewhat self-isolating community that's effectively blanketing a realistic romance. (snip) —Letterboxd review

8. The Souvenir (United Kingdom)

Saw in theatres (partially because so many movie peeps were shitting on it). I love it, but I didn't fucking love it. Was tempted to see it again, but didn’t get the chance. Dat ending, tho. While it was a movie peep telling me the whole plot that caused me to gain so much interest in it [Cabin in the Woods (2011) all over again, amiright?], I must say that the less you know the better. It’ll make for... a more immersive experience. Blind Rating: 3/5

9. After the Wedding (USA)

Saw in theatres and discussed with a group immediately after. I thought I really liked it, but I love it. This was a trip down unexpected lane, le'me tell ya. The trailer is a spoilerful lie, but the Landmark's description is very accurate. People's experiences will have a heavy hand in how they react to it and feel about certain characters. The way they made this feel like a constant thriller was excellently done. Dat cinematography, tho. Go in knowing nothing more than what the previous link provides. Blind Rating: 1/5

10. Joker (USA)

Saw in theatres and discussed with a group immediately after. I really like it. Blind Rating: 1/5

(slight spoilers)

This was difficult to watch at times, but hella captivating throughout. Arthur's reasoning is believable, his sanity is questionable, and his life is indeed one hell of a joke. Like watching an extreme example of what happens when people on the lower end lose access to social programs. This can very easily be taken as a commentary on mental illness kept unchecked. More than that, it's a story about a guy who accepts his "crazy" and transcends poverty, circumstance, and societal bullshit... at everyone else's expense. (snip) —Letterboxd review

11. Miles Davis: Birth of the Cool (USA)

Saw in theatres and discussed with a group immediately after. I really like it. Captivating documentary in a very similar style to Toni Morrison: The Pieces I Am, but with Mr. Davis never joining the “talking heads” (as people like to call it) and instead being heard as a constant narrator of his own biography. Regardless of how I feel about him on a personal level, this shit was a great watch and the ending hit hard. Still need to get his autobiography, though. There’s a nostalgic factor for me here since I was partially reminded of my grandpa while watching it. Blind Rating: 'eh

12. Queen & Slim (USA)

Saw in theatres and discussed with someone immediately after. Fuck yeah, I enjoyed this one. Dat soundtrack and cinematography, bruh? 👌🏿 The throwback soundtrack, main characters’ racial group, and fact that they went to New Orleans definitely play a hand in why this one’s not atleast 1 spot lower. Blind Rating: 1/5

13. Dwelling in the Fuchon Mountains (China)

Saw in theatres during festival and attended discussion days later. I really like it. Was long, but in a good way. Similar to Ash is Purest White (2018) in that I kept thinking "please end here," but would be glad it didn't later. It's beautifully slothy and has absurdly long tracking shots. The cinematography during walking conversations is notable. Dat trick, tho. Blind Rating: 'eh

14. A Girl Missing (Japan)

Saw in theatres during festival and discussed with a group immediately after. Bruh~, this is a hell of a personal trial. Didn’t expect it to go the places it did. Blind Rating: 1/5

15. Dutch Angle: Chas Gerretsen & Apocalypse Now (Netherlands)

Saw on MUBI on phone. I love it. This goes over his childhood (for 8 minutes), career paths, photography of 9/11/1973's Chilean coup d'etat, the 6 months he spent on-set photographing Apocalypse Now (1979), and him as a person. What I didn’t expect was how much he would get into the details of things happening during that film’s development. Along with those details are interesting photos presented excellently in a way that’s reminiscent of manga at times. I like the way the photos take center point and are treated like the foreground. It’s like the director and editor forced themselves to remain aware that the documentary was showcasing 15% of the total slides housed in the Nederlands Fotomuseum’s archives in Rotterdam and that most of his Apocalypse Now photos were never seen. Dat score, tho [Ex Machina (2014) vibes]. Blind Rating: 0/5

BTW, it had its official (Dutch national) release by EYE Filmmuseum on 12/19/19 in the Netherlands, so maybe it’ll come to the USA soon. 🤷🏿‍♂️ Forgot to mention it’s been added as a special feature to the 40th anniversary 4K blu-ray disc of Apocalypse Now: Final Cut (2019).

16. Receiver (Ireland)

Saw on MUBI on phone. I really like it. A very interesting short film in three odd segments. First was disturbing; second was about activism, protests, and politics; third was about the person I assume the film was made for. All compose what I took as a film about the importance of having reliable sound and hearing. Needs to be watched alone with good sound quality (for immersion). Blind Rating: 'eh

17. Bacurau (Brazil)

Saw in theatres during festival. I really like it. This was some Most Dangerous Game shit with a hell of an ending. The whole game is an allegory of civilized people's obsession with hunting wild animals for "sport". I really like the portrayal of history here and enjoyed the racial matters it lays bare. I can only imagine someone watching this without knowing a thing. Kinda wish I didn’t even read the description beforehand. Digging the soundtrack. Blind Rating: 1/5

18. Little Women (USA)

Saw on 35mm and discussed with others on separate occasions. I really like it. This was just warming and sad. I felt for the main characters and actually felt satisfied with the way it ended. Considering the type of film, there are handful of typical things for me to complain about. That being said, the movie earned its stars back. I mean, did you not see their attic performances? Shit was dope. Blind Rating: ‘eh

[ontherockswithsalt]

A Made Man

/1/ /2/ /3/ /4/

A/N: I renamed the chapters (getting rid of the preface and just calling that chapter 1 so that it’ll match up with how it’s posted on ao3. That’s all. :) 

Chapter 5.

Noble: I’ll be over in the Financial District. At a place on John Street near Gold. Just FYI.

I check my phone once I’ve finished with my run on the treadmill Friday morning and see the first message from Noble that I’ve received since our phone conversation.

I think about that part of downtown, this nondescript pocket of lower Manhattan, near Wall Street and it’s weird to me that he would spend his Friday night at some guy’s apartment there.

Passing a white gym towel across the back of my neck, I think about it while I make my way over to a nearby bench. I wonder if I know any of the officers in that sector of the 1st precinct. Not because I have intentions of shining a light on Noble and this stupid game. It has yet to be seen whether it’s worth police time to follow that lead. But because I consider getting in touch with the ones on patrol tonight to find out if they’ve heard about anything sketchy down there.

Then with a deep breath to alleviate my pounding heart, I sit back and study his message before I type back.

Jamie: You notice anything off, you get the fuck out of there.

Noble: I will.

Jamie: I wish you’d just go play bingo in Queens so that I’m less likely to have a stroke worrying about you.

I send off the text and let myself exhale a soft laugh. I just miss him. I selfishly want him to myself and on top of the paranoia I have about Noble getting into trouble when left to fend for himself in the city, my head’s a wreck. I can’t bring myself to explicitly instruct him not to go, though.

Noble: Please don’t worry about me.

Jamie: Too bad. I do.

Noble: I do stupid shit on a daily basis and live to tell about it.

With a shake of my head, a smile sneaks across my lips, but still his flippant attitude about it doesn't make me feel any better.

Noble: We could go to Drag Queen Bingo down in the village. Would you rather come with me to that?

Jamie: Yes, I’ll go with you to Drag Queen Bingo. That’s how much I’d rather spend my Friday night with you.

Noble: Wait, you’ll really go?

Jamie: If I didn’t have to work, I would, bro.

Noble: Next time.

I don’t respond, simply tapping my thumb against the side of my phone. Then he messages me again.

Noble: Even if it’s late, I’ll call you after I’m done, okay?

I wait a moment to consider it, figuring there’s nothing else to say before I write: Okay. Be safe. And hope it’s not the last thing I ever say to him.

***

After a painfully busy tour where Vinny and I spent our time responding to multiple domestics, breaking up a bar fight, and chasing a kid who stole a phone that nearly resulted in me getting hit by a cab, I'm finally able to call it a night.

Back at the precinct, I check my phone and see nothing from Noble. I’m tempted to text him if everything’s going okay, but I stop myself. That doesn’t mean I feel any more settled about what he's doing, even after having the day to process it. As the night wore on, I only grew more anxious.

Before I punch out for the night, I swing back to my station desk to access the database. There I do a quick search of recent arrests made in the sector where Noble said he was going to be for the night. Maybe I won’t let it go, but something’s not right about it. I don’t know if it’s the game itself, that building, or if there are people watching him but I can’t shake the conviction I have that he shouldn’t be there. And it’s not just because I think it’s a stupid way to blow his money.

I filter through the search results, narrowing down to the current year, then the past month and skim the stats. Nine felony assaults reported in that precinct in the last month, five robberies -- both numbers somewhat high for that fairly tame neighborhood. One murder, three weeks ago, and no arrest made.  I zoom back out and do a quick check of previous months to compare.

I’m not sure what I’m looking for. Some sort of pattern or red flag, but nothing stands out.

My gaze shifts around the precinct. I tell myself to just go home. What am I going to do, head downtown and just aimlessly circle blocks until I see Noble walk out of some building? I don’t know, but there’s some unrelenting pull I feel that tells me to go find him.

***

The thing about the Financial District is it’s the city’s oldest neighborhood. It’s New York’s origin where, famously, the island of Manhattan was purchased by Dutch colonials from the Native Americans for twenty-four dollars. At least, that’s the historical claim people like to cite.

And while the neighborhood is slick commerce and corporate towers, bustling during the day, at night it feels isolated, with traces of that original era still whispered in its dark alleyways. Crooked narrow streets, a disorienting change from the typical grid above Fourteenth Street, await me when I emerge from the subway. I check my phone again to find no message from Noble, even at one a.m., and start toward the cross streets he had mentioned in his message.

I mentally account for my off duty nine millimeter at my hip, concealed by the brown leather jacket I wear over a black sweater and jeans.

The air this late is cold in my chest as I shift my gaze around the abandoned sidewalks and head north. I don’t know what to look for. A luxury condo, a generic high-rise or what.

As the street narrows, I make my way beneath the maze of construction scaffolding that envelops so many of the sidewalks here. At the corner is Gold Street, dimly lit with all of its storefronts closed, gated and locked aside from the entrance to a fairly deserted parking garage.

I follow the street, offering a glance over my shoulder when I turn the corner. Then I pause a beat. 

I know I feel it again. 

This thud in my chest that makes my throat tight before the hard, reverberating sound of weight against chain link fence jerks my breath from me.

My focus sharpens on the sound coming from midway up the desolate block. I hear someone’s faint groan just inside an offshoot alley across the way.

Instinctively, I reach one hand to my hip as I come closer. And just as I make out the struggling body pressed between a brick wall and an attacker at his back, I tug the chain of my shield from beneath my sweater and retrieve my gun.

“Police. Don't move!” I shout the command before I aim my weapon at the man shoved against Noble's back with a knife at his side.

[thearchdemongreatlydisapproves]

How to Introduce your best friend to your boyfriend for dummies

Your comments and likes gave me life, thank you so much! Your interest literally kickstarted me into a 5-days long writing haze, from which this fluff was born. This is the fastest I've ever came up with a story and then WROTE IT! The usual warnings. Un-betaed, all mistakes are still mine, do not own Marvel, etc. I was trying to post it as quickly as possible, so there might be some mistakes I've missed. I hope you enjoy it!

This is a sequel to this

Bucky just wanted for Tony and Steve to meet. He imagined numerous times how this could go, the two of the most important people in his live chatting a little, getting to know each other, preferably in a cozy hipster coffee that Tony would hate on a principle and Steve would love for the same reasons.

You have to be careful what you wish for, because it might just happen. Just not the way you imagined.

“Damn, Barnes, you went all out for lil’ ol’ me today. Is it a special occasion?” Clint gasped mockingly. “Did I miss our anniversary?”

Bucky didn’t grace him with a verbal answer and just flipped him off. He looked damn good so fuck ‘em. He closed the door in the Birdbrains face, but he could still hear his cackling outside. Why were his friends such assholes? OK, he WAS one of the asshole friends, but still.

“Don’t pay attention to Clint. I accidentally let him drink too much wine. It’ll wear off,” Steve called out from the kitchen. A few moments later, he appeared at the door separating their living room from the kitchen. His cheeks an the tips of his ear were a rosy red colour, which could only mean that he had been drinking the cooking wine along with Clint. Steve was nearly impossible to outdrink and Bucky could count on the fingers on one hand the times Steve had actually gotten drunk. Nevertheless, his pale Irish skin was always sure way to know if he was “cooking” with wine. The blond stared at him and he could see the moment the switch flipped in Steve’s mind.

“Wow, Bucky, how did you do that?”

He hadn’t actually done anything, truly, it was all Tony’s handwork. Bucky usually didn’t have the patience to do anything with his hair, except tying it out of his face, when he was working. But, apparently, Tony could braid. Like, he could braid really good. He had told him, while putting up and away the top section of his hair for later, about the wife of his butler and the main cook for the family, Anna, who had started all of this by showing little restless Tony how to make a classic braid. And Tony had took up on it like fish to water.

Now, Bucky was spotting a big, weird and tangly braid, that somehow looked awesome, on the top his head, with a few smaller- Dutch braids, was it?- on his temples and hanging behind his ears. Both Tony and Natasha had been calling him Lagertha the whole time after that, while Tony was braiding the Russian’s long, red hair in a “Cersei” look. In the end, both he and Natasha were both rocking the hairstyles, thank you very much.

Knowing that your current date was bros with your ex was a little awkward. Receiving your ex’s blessing to date their “cinnamon roll” was even more so (a little sweet too, but no one needed to know he thought that.)

“Tony did it. Do you like it?” the bait was on and he could see some brain activity flashing through the blond’s eyes. It was time for him to tell Steve about his amazing boyfriend of almost three and a half months.

“Who’s Tony?” Steve’s eyebrows furrowed.

Deep breaths, Barnes. He really hoped this could work.

“Alright, punk, sit your ass down. I’m gonna tell you a story.” Bucky waited until Steve joined him on the couch and started, “Remember that time I made pancakes at 3 in the morning and I had to run to the store? Well, I didn’t tell you the whole thing.”

“So... let me get this straight. You, in all your sleep – deprived glory, hooked up with a fella who fell down with a shelf, using only cheesy pick up lines, which let me say, we’re atrocious. Am I right?”

“In a nutshell? Yeah.”

“Oh my God, jerk, how do you always get in situations like this?” Steve groaned out, falling backwards on the couch cushion in a dramatic manner.

“In my defence, I didn’t realize that woman was hitting on me,” he really didn’t think Steve needed to know about what happened after he left them to get to know each other. The lady had a quite a few reactions when she saw his arm. He might personally hunt her down and Bucky did not want the drama. “Do you feel like going down memory lane too? The old lady at Walmart?”

He saw the pillow coming and he totally deserved it, but everything was fair in love and war. Even handsy old bats.

“Goddammit Buck, that was not funny at all! It was scarring for life! I can’t look at Mrs. Butterworth anymore!”

“Aww, don’t worry, Peggy will kiss it better.”

Like on command, Steve’s face went a beautiful tomato shade. The blond shoved him lightly, which made Bucky shove back, which led to them tackling each other with muffled laughter. After a few moment they sat back down on their respective seats, breathless and reminding themselves that they were grown–ass adults and not childish 5-year-olds.

And then, the awkward silence settled.

“...Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

And there it was, the hundred buck question. Bucky knew it was coming, but it still made him feel so unsure.

“Because I was afraid... It just felt too good to be true,” Bucky breathed in deeply and looked back at Steve. “I’m… not the same since the accident. You know it, I know it, Hell, even Clint knows it, because he's a snooping asshole. I can’t do this whole love ‘em and leave ‘em anymore. Fuck, I can’t even speak to other human beings most of the days. And I know sometimes you wish I hadn’t changed so much since the accident,” Steve looked like a kicked puppy at this part and he was physically holding back from saying something. Nevertheless, he kept quiet, which was good enough.

“I understand, sometimes I want it just as much as you, but it can’t happen. I see how you perk up every time I seem even mildly interested in someone. But nothing good ever comes out of it and I’m never ready enough.” Bucky smiled lightly when he thought about the bright beautiful man he was dating, “With Tony it’s easy. It feels right.”

Suddenly, the heavy silence that followed his words felt tense, oppressive. Steve was staring at him with an unreadable expression and furrowed brows. Just when Bucky had started twitching with discomfort Steve asked, “How does he make you feel?”

Bucky didn’t hesitate, “Alive.” The blond nodded for him to keep going. “Tony’s so bright, Stevie, like the sun and there’s so much life in him. He will cross the street to pet a stray dog or cat. And Tony is brilliant, like Einstein level of brilliant, I think he graduated MIT with honours.”

He was getting off – track and Steve was already smirking knowingly. “You’re so whipped, Buck.”

Ok.

That he did not expect. In fact, he could feel his cheeks warming up and Steve’s smiled even harder.

“Fuck off, punk!” he exclaimed.

“No, it’s cute. I’ve never seen you so heart-eyed. I bet if Tony flutters his eyelashes at you he can make you do anything.”

“I mean, he does have pretty eyelashes, but not as pretty as his ass-”

Steve threw another pillow at him. What was he, a friggin’ child?

“You’re ruining the moment, jerk!”

“What moment? There was no moment!”

“Yes, there was,” Steve singsonged. Bucky flipped him off.

“So... When do I get to meet Tony?” the blond asked. Yep, it was time for Steve to meet his boyfriend.

It was definitely not the time for Steve to meet Tony.

Steve shouldn’t have been back so soon and yet here he was. With a fucking frozen pack of beans pressed to his face on top of it all.

And Tony? Tony was making breakfast which was kind of hilarious, because he was in the home of the biggest and tallest troll of them all. Currently, he was trying to reach for the sugar and it really wasn’t working.

Bucky let himself admire Tony in all of his sleep – soft glory and unruly thick hair.

His boyfriend could buy any fashion store he wanted, but if there was one thing Bucky learned about him, it was that he was the biggest clothes stealer out there. It was his way of claiming his humans, he was sure. And Bucky gladly let him get away with it, because the sight of Tony in his over-sized hoodies did funny things to him. In fact, right now he was wearing one of the aforementioned hoodies and a pair of rolled up sweatpants, his feet bare against the floor. Steve, the asshole, wasn’t even trying to hide his amusement behind the frozen pack.

“The Hell?” he asked eloquently.

“’Morning, sweet cheeks, I’m making you food so you better appreciate it. It must be illegal for someone to be awake that early,” Tony turned around to mock – glare at him before blowing him a kiss and reaching for the eggs, which were conveniently put on the highest shelf. “I think it was mentioned in the Declaration of Independency or something.”

This was Tony for you, before noon.

Bucky lifted his eyebrows, “You should ask Steve about that, doll. He memorised it word by word.”

The blond turned to glare back at him and gracefully saluted him with a certain finger. He quietly sat at the table, staring at his best friend and boyfriend quietly talking. Talking! What the fuck?

“So... what’s up with the shiner? And why are you back so early?” he finally asked Steve and grinned. “I thought you were going to stay at Peggy’s for a little longer, you know.”

“Fuck off, jerk, I was actually helping her with the repairs!” It never got old how Steve’s whole face will go red at even the mention of the amazing (and terrifyingly competent) British woman.

“Do you actually believe she would need help for that? She’s probably ten times better at fixing her sink than you, punk.”

Bucky laughed when his best friend glared at him, before promptly turning red as well, because Tony had pecked him on the check, while shoving a mug of fresh coffee in his hands. “Cut him some slack, babe, he’s one of the slow – blooming,” the shorter brunet smiled devilishly before chugging back his own cup of scalding coffee, goddamnit Tony!

“Your boyfriend has a mean swing too,” Steve mumbled still hiding his red face.

“What?”

“In my defence, he snuck up on me!”

“I didn’t! I was loud enough, you were just half - asleep!”

Wait, what?

“Tony, did you hit Steve?” he finally asked.

“Yes, yes he did.” There were no bad feelings in Steve’s tone and his eyes twinkled with humour. “He was drowsily trudging around the kitchen in your clothes with a pan in hand and I tapped him on the shoulder to ask him if he was Tony. Apparently, he hadn’t heard me coming in so he just jumped and fuckin’ yowled before hitting me square in the face with a pan.”

“Fuck off, Rogers, I thought you were a thief or- or an axe murderer, you just appeared from thin air!”

“You fuckin’ yowled-”

“Language!”

“How the fuck did you even yowl? I’ve never though I will hear such a noise comin’ from a human!”

“Shove it, Rogers!”

Bucky burst out laughing, because this? This was unbelievable. He had called Tony yesterday because he was feeling like shit and his boyfriend had appeared in his apartment, chattering about how shitty the door locks were and how the three boxes of pizza he was carrying were melting the skin on his hands. They put on LOTR trilogy and spent the night cuddling. He never thought this would lead here.

Bucky looped an arm around his boyfriend and drew him in for a deep kiss. But, of course, give Tony an inch and he’ll take a mile, quickly turning the mostly chaste kiss into a filthy one that definitely wasn’t for Steve’s eyes. Who was still there, coughing away to remind them of his presence.

Spoilsport.

Tony stepped, looking dishevelled. “Spoilsport,” he pouted, repeating Bucky’s thought.

“It is my pleasure,” the blond looked at Bucky.

“Just so you know, I’m not kissing you too.”

God, he loved those assholes.

[bakingbrowes-blog]

Hey. It’s me. I know you haven’t heard from me in awhile, but I just needed you to know something. I’m sorry. I’ve been gone, and maybe you’ve been waiting, or maybe you’ve forgotten, but I’m sorry. I’m here now, and it’s all gonna be okay, I promise.

I haven’t put anything up in some time because I suck. I don’t really have an excuse or anything, I’m just lazy and forgetful. Also, Absolver came out, and I’m very much about being a kung fu master. So that’s where a lot of time has gone. I’m here now though! So let’s talk about some stuff. Specifically, this bread http://www.kingarthurflour.com/recipes/no-knead-crusty-white-bread-recipe and The National’s new singles. I’ve been listening to them almost nonstop.

I finally got my hands on a dutch oven. Like an actual dutch oven, that you cook things in. For people trying to make crusty, delicious, gorgeous loaves at home, this is a godsend. In order to get that beautiful golden brown exterior, a dutch oven is crucial. It traps the steam from the dough in, and that’s how magic happens.

This is a pretty basic recipe, with a lot of room to adlib I think. I could try it with a different flour, or let it ferment for longer, or barely at all, and it’ll turn out different every time. Since there’s not a lot of work involved for this recipe I didn’t pick a whole album, but rather the four singles the National has put out over the past bit, Carin at the Liquor Store, Guilty Party, The System Only Dreams In Darkness, and Day I Die. They’re monstrously good.

Starting out, as always, I lay out my materials. The flour, the yeast, the bowl, a spoon, some towels, and a little bit of salt. Like I said, super simple recipe. As I’m moving about my kitchen, positioning everything just so, I put on the System Only Dreams In Darkness. It gives me a feeling of preparing for some oncoming event. Good or bad, it braces you almost. It stops frequently, cutting out the horn or the drums, just leaving a few bare elements of the song to float on, waiting to be caught once the other jump back in. It felt perfect to start with for this bread.

There really isn’t much too this, I mixed up all the ingredients until it came to be a dough, I covered it up with plastic wrap in its big old bowl, and let it take a nap for two hours. This really gives you a chance to take care of the most important part of baking, or just cooking in general. Them damn dirty dishes. And The National is perfect for doing the dishes to. It’s slow and somber and gentle and you can really reflect on everything. For instance, I reflected on how amped I was about this bread. Dave’s first dutch oven bread. DUDES. I’M HYPED. AMPED. PUMPED. All those things and more.

After our little doughboi rises for two hours, we shove him into the fridge so he can ferment, alone, in the cold darkness while he ponders what it means to be alive. Also, doughboi is what they called me in highschool.

Okay, that’s not true, but part of me wishes they did. Instead I got called Bro, Brow-e, Browie, you with the hair, and the worst of them all, David.

The longer I let the dough sit in the fridge the more it ferments, and takes on a more tangy flavor, similar to sourdough, which is truly God’s gift to man. It makes around three loaves, I made one of those after 30 hours in the fridge, and I made the other two after three days.

Once you’re ready to make them you pull out your dough onto a floured surface, and gently, GENTLY DAMN IT, form them into balls and sprinkle the tops with flour to apparently help retain their moisture as they come to room temperature, and you get your oven up to temp. All the while the National is urging me on, or rather pulling me. Day I Die gives me a feeling like it’s pulling me along by the wrist with a consistent and steady drumbeat with a high guitar almost screeching softly in the distance, occasionally stopping to tell me where we’re going.

The time has come. My dough is ready. The necessary rites have been conducted. A lot of speed and coordination is required here as you want your oven to lose as little heat as possible as you open it and plop your dough into the dutch oven and also not burn yourself. Very important. Burning yourself is not fun. Then after 15 minutes, long enough to allow enough steam to be made to give your bread that artisan crust you know you love baby, you take the lid off and give it some more time.

The end result of all this, is true beauty. It’s like seeing the sunrise on the east coast, maybe. I don’t think I’ve done that actually, but I would imagine it’s a similar feeling. Take in the majesty of your creation, your baby. It’s yours. Now go tell everyone you know about it and hold your chin high until someone tells you to shut up about your stupid bread Dave, seriously.

This recipe is a really good introduction into artisan bread making, an informative stepping stone. All in all, I would do this again. It’s delicious and makes an awesome addition to dinner with a friend or family or as a nice heartfelt gift. I think food is always a heartfelt gift, a piece of me goes into anything I make; care, love, attention and time, and I always hope that it’s received with that in mind.

That’s what I got for now, I hope you liked it. I’ll be better about updating the blog, hopefully. Until then, peace out nerds.

P.S.- Shoutout to Doughboi https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=35es-h6xF-0

P.S.S.- Thanks to Eli Pinkerman for the header image! Check out his photos and stuff on instagram, @elipinkerman