#I’ve never even seen ratatouille

[bardace]

*gets down on one knee* will you be the rat to my tatouille

[jomarchswritingjacket]

say what you will about brad bird but

hoooooooo boy the women in his animated movies

they’re just so…😍

[theoisnotty]

Untitled Part Four

Theo’s smirk had yet to falter.

“Maybe someday it could be something like a family business for us.”

I had never really thought of passing down business. Truthfully, it was something of a passion project. I don’t expect anyone to want to take over someday. I especially don’t expect Theo to involve himself whatsoever, that trust fund baby. At least I decided to actually make something of inheritance, Theo had never worked a day in his life and I cannot foresee him suddenly becoming a star employee.

“You can start to tend to my Draught of Living Death over there. We learned it in sixth year, it shouldn’t be something you’ll mess up.”

Finishing up a batch of Living Death was the last of today’s potions. I had originally started it, but later on realized the other potions needed to be packaged primarily, as they were out of stock. Living Death rarely sold out. They were still in full stock as of last night.

Theo nodded, getting to work. He spared a longing glance, catching my eye.

“Is that enough work for you?”

Theo nodded, turning his attention back to potion making. Theo was always bright back in our school days. Never would I have considered him to be a hard worker, though. Lazy, but brilliant enough to collect as many OWLS and NEWTS as I did. Even as an eleven-year-old child, Theodore was a brilliant wizard. Potter overshadowed us all, but back then Theo was my friend. Teddy, always there when I needed him. After meals we would sit near the black lake together; we shared stories for hours. In third year, we were also keen on caring for our respective owls. His owl, Henley, a great eagle owl, seemed to devour the owl treats I would bring for my own owl.

I scurried to the back room to retrieve a container to store Theo’s nearly-finished potion. I was only planning on staying a few more minutes, saving work for my employees such as stocking shelves.

“We’re nearly done with our work here, Nott!”

“Does this mean you’ll join me for lunch?”

Regardless of the fact that his green eyes twinkled and he wore a smug smirk, I could tell he was nervous. It’s as if we never shared a meal together. This man was utterly hopeless.

“Anywhere in particular?”

“How about Arnette?”

There was no denying that Arnette was indeed my favourite. We spent more Sundays than I could count there. A nice Parisian wizarding restaurant, with the most amazing variety of tea I’ve yet to come across. I weighed my options. I could go home to the manor, talk about marrying Theo with my parents at lunch or apparate to Paris with Theo and have an awkward… albeit, delicious meal.

Theodore could tell that I was considering both of my options. He looked at me in my dazed state and lifted his eyebrows, expectantly.

“Well, you’ve got me on that one, I could definitely use a classic cup of Arnette’s caramel pixie dust tea.”

“Ah, you’re growing more and more predictable, Y/N”

As if he wasn’t doubting I’d accept the invitation. I rolled my eyes. If it wasn’t for their delicious ratatouille, he would be dining alone.

We Floo to Arnette, greeted by a young waitress, maybe eighteen, tops. She’s wearing a steamed white blouse and black, silk dress pants. I feel flustered, I’m in my pink work robes, I feel shabby compared to the high fashion restaurant, and its patrons. Theo looks down at me, and smirks.

“Table for two, Mr. and Mrs. Nott. Reservation.”

I glance at Theo and roll my eyes. Of course he already made a reservation before even asking me to go. Typical of him, acting without thinking. I find it especially weird that he made our reservation under “Mr. and Mrs. Nott”. We aren’t actually married.

Once we are seated, we order and sit in silence. I shift awkwardly in my seat. What should I say? Should I continue to awkwardly sit here? I don’t even know what he’s been up to for the last few years. It all feels so unfamiliar compared to how things used to be. I had not seen him routinely since our Hogwarts days, six years ago. So much around us has changed since that time. Potter defeated Voldemort. We can all live in a somewhat less hectic world. Now that so much time has passed, the world feels just as big knowing the expectations of our traditions I am to uphold. Marriage is a frightening concept, especially considering the fact that we are expected to produce heir(ess)es before we turn thirty. I am partial to believing one of the reasons why the Nott family chose me is because of their hopes I would continue to steadily grow, good hips for child bearing, pureblood, successful, all they could want for Theodore.

I gazed at him from across the table. As flirty as he’s been, I really do doubt if his apparent feelings are genuine or even existent. He’s a very suspicious person to me. Who knows what he thinks of the situation now. Zabini and Malfoy put a lot of thoughts in his mind. Thoughts calling me a “blood traitor”, thoughts agreeing with and admiring arranged marriage. The first thing I want to do right now is confide in my friends. I wonder what Pansy and Daphne would think of his odd behavior. I picture their reactions.

It occurs to me that Theodore owes me.

“When will I be getting your old quidditch jerseys, Theo?”

“Quidditch jer- Oh!” He cuts himself off. I suppose it isn’t so personal when he cuts me off because he even does it to himself.

“Bring them by Chauldron L’Or sometime soon? They’ve always looked so comfy, I’m excited to wear them around the manor. I know doing so will appease mother and father. Your parents might like the idea as well.” I grinned.

“Around the manor?” He questions, his brows furrowed.

“Yes? Is that bad or something?”

“I was thinking we could maybe go out with you in my jersey. Show them who you chose to ma-”

It was my turn to cut him off.

“I didn’t choose anything! You were chosen for me.” I sniffed.

Theo rolled his eyes. Of course. He then surprisingly slouched ever so slightly in his seat. At this, I rolled my eyes back at him.

We sat and ate in silence for a while longer. Neither of us wanted to speak, too annoyed at one another. As if another moment of silence would be all too taxing on his subconscious, Theo huffed, and spoke again.

“I would have chosen you.” He softly murmured, giving me a defiant look.

[into-september]

(this I wrote this this summer and then forgot about but it feels relevant today)

The benefits of going to artsy cinemas: getting pre-film shorts that were masterful on their own but got an extra layer after having spent a week with the jingles of Parisian public transport. 

And speaking of Paris in animation, brought up by the feature I was there to see (which was neither animated nor French):

I’m one of the none-too-populated crowd of people in the MLB fandom who are very interested indeed in the Awakening film. This isn’t because I expect a lot out of it story-wise, but then I’ve never expected great storytelling out of anything MLB-related in the first place. It’s a Saturday morning cartoon and that’s all I ever wanted it to be, but after having spent a week living and breathing its setting, I am definitely seeing how the film can do what the TV-series just can’t: to truly bring Paris to life in animated form. 

I’m not expecting Ratatouille (even that one is mainly set inside a kitchen), but the emptiness of the TV show definitely became all the more noticable after seeing those places full of people and traffic and litter and posters and shop windows and cafés and a thousand details it would be insanity to spend money on in an endless monster-of-the-week show for gradeschoolers. 

MLB is great next to what few glimpses I’ve seen of 3D animation for TV - the issue isn’t the quality, but the amount of detail you could realistically expect out of it. Sets and backgrounds are utilitarian, there for letting the plot unfold and not artistic expression, and that’s not something anyone could reasonably fault it for. 

But if the film gets to use its setting for something more than the backdrop, then oh my god my body is ready

[fafernfernfern]

Ai Could Never Make Ratatouille. 

I’m not afraid of AI because I’ve seen Ratatouille. Can you imagine? I mean can you even start to imagine you type into an AI make me a movie about french cooking in the late 90’s and out pops Ratatouille? It would never think, oh I’ll make a movie about french cooking in the 90’s. And what if what if the main character was a rat. And what if it was a thinly veiled metaphor for prejudice. AI might at this point, if you could put that in the prompt, spit out Ratatouille. But would that script have the rat take control of a human in order to cook in a three star Michelin restaurant. Would that movie force a random weekend at Bernie's reference half way through the movie. Would the main villain of that movie be the EGO OF MAN WHO LIVES IN A FUCKING COFFIN! WHO SPITS OUT HIS WINE THEN LOOKS AT THE YEAR OF THE VINTAGE AND THEN SWALLOWS IT INSTEAD? NO. Humans have something. Humans have ratatouille. Never forget that.

[absolutely-zero-regrets]

Top 5 favorite movies?

Uhhh. Oh dear. To be completely honest, I don’t have a favorite movie, period 😂 But here are some I enjoy, in no particular order!

I recently finally saw Pan’s Labyrinth! A bit too gorey for my tastes, but it was very good and lived up to the hype of all the people I’ve seen saying it was very sad, haha. Also, the theme is GREAT.

I thought the Mario movie was pretty cute! It always makes me a lil sad when people portray Mario as cruel to Luigi, so seeing them be so caring to each other especially in official media (if you can call it that) was a breath of fresh air! I also really liked the orchestral renditions of the songs from the games. I’m always a sucker for that kind of thing 😆 The only thing I can say I disliked at all about the movie was Chris Pratt’s voice. He reeeally put his all into it 🙄 Maybe the climax of the movie too. I’ve never really been a big fan of the worlds-collide-for-the-final-battle trope. Aside from those though, very fun movie!

The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe! I haven’t seen it in years but I LOVED it as a kid. I think this is probably my closest bet to a favorite movie considering just how much I WATCHED it.

WALL-E. I was OBSESSED with this movie as a kid. Maybe even more than the previous title, actually. I cried at the ending and proceeded to doodle those robots excessively throughout elementary school.

Ratatouille. What more is there to say.

If anyone has any movie recommendations I’d love to hear them! I really don’t watch that many 😂

[thetoxicgamer]

Food-Battling Strategy Game Ponders the Ethics of Culinary Combat

An egg can be boiled by just about anyone, and with practise, you might even be able to whip one up and cook it into a tasty omelette. What transpires, then, when you pit that omelette against a three-layer cake? The creator of the upcoming turn-based strategy game GladiEAT was approached by PCGamesN at WASD 2023 to ask him about Steam Early Access plans, the morality of culinary conflict, and the undeniable potential of cheese. The concept of GladiEATers is pretty simple – you cook up various foods and then send them to fight your opponent’s creations. You can bash out simple foods like boiled eggs quickly, or take time to cook something fancier (and stronger in battle) like a three-layered cake. It’s a simple but delightful concept that developer Oliver Georgallis from Milk Bubbles Games came up with on a long drive. “It was complete silence that was broken by, ‘Tommy, I’ve got this idea okay?’” Upon telling his friend, the response all but confirmed the idea in Georgallis’s head: “It could be called GladiEATers.” He loved the name so much that ‘Tommy’ still holds a small stake in the game just for those naming rights. “I love puns – a lot of things in the game are named after puns,” Georgallis tells us on the WASD show floor. “The team pulls me back on that a lot,” he muses, “For example, there’s only one combat chef in the game that can speak in puns, because everyone else said, alright Oliver, all the others need to speak normally.” Georgallis says the team wants the characters to feel varied and interesting, however, and each has their own specific dietary preferences, such as one who’s a raw paleo vegan. “That’s never really a point of humour, you know – no-one ever makes fun of someone for what they eat, or how they dress, or anything like that. That’s really important to us as well. So just real people, basically, that’s what we designed the characters after.” As a trained chef, Georgallis says, “Food is so relatable – I don’t need to explain to anyone what a fried egg is, you know, they just know. And I think that’s a sort of jumping-off point for building character or a creature.” GladiEATers - creatures made out of the tomato and egg dish ShakshoukaSome foods might be a little less familiar to some, however – Ratatouille is fairly widely known at this point thanks to the Disney film of the same name, but what about the tomato and egg dish Shakshouka? “So few people know what that is – I would love for someone to make Shakshouka in the game and then figure out how to make it in real life and find out it’s super easy and super tasty.” Roughly 50 creatures across three categories of eggs, pastry, and vegetables are currently available in-game, but there’s plenty of potential for new foods to arrive down the line. “Cheese – I mean, once we add cheese to the game… that’s cheesy vegetables, cheesy omelettes, cheese on bread, pizza, I mean the whole floodgates open, right?” That means even just one new ingredient creates a whole world of possibilities. “I mean, that’s kind of how cooking works,” Georgallis concludes. One question is burning on our lips, however. If this food is alive, brought into being by a mysterious force known as the ‘CAL particle’ that turns inanimate calories into food, what are the ethical ramifications of sending it into battle? “It’s interesting that, because you said ‘send it off to die,’ right? This is definitely a conversation we want to develop in the story,” Georgallis teases. “There are definitely going to be characters that question the ethics of fighting with these creatures, getting attached to them and seeing them die kind of hurts. And then if it comes back to life, is it the same thing? So there are questions that we want to develop later on in the story.” It’s certainly a unique spin on the ethics of cooking that we haven’t seen addressed quite in this way before. GladiEATers is currently planned to launch via Steam Early Access by the end of the year, with plans to introduce multiplayer modes including both co-operative play and competitive multiplayer in the future. For now, you can add it to your wishlist if you’re interested. In the meantime, check out more of the best cooking games if you’re feeling peckish, or some other great strategy games for those of you who love the more tactical side of proceedings. Read the full article

[livelysonletour]

I’m home now, and Garrett is en route. But there is still two days left to cover (we’re on a bit of a lag).

On Wednesday, we did museums. We first went to the Rodin museum in the morning. The museum had impeccable gardens with bronze statues. In our walking tour of Paris we learned the French style of gardening is to bend nature to the human will, which was evident here as the trees were shaped as squares. The museum itself was relatively small, so we were able to see everything within two hours.

We then made our way to the Louvre with the undeserved confidence of a 20-something, thinking we were on track to accomplish everything we planned during this day. But alas, the Louvre wrecked us completely. Not the art, it was the stairs. Up and down and up and down. At one point, at the foot of an unanticipated staircase, I told Garrett to just leave me behind so he could go on to live the rest of his life. There was no way I could go on. We did see the Mona Lisa, various Catholic artworks, art depicting French history (some of which were the largest paintings I’ve ever seen in my life), Egyptian artifacts, and Napoleon III’s apartment. One of the biggest annoyances of the whole experience were the people who, and this makes me irrationally frustrated, would go to each. freaking. artwork. and take a picture of it on their phone… barely glancing at the artwork IN REAL LIFE. Like it was COMPLETE insanity. And it wasn’t like oh just a few people, it felt like we were the only two people in the entire museum who were not doing this. I don’t get it. It’s mind boggling. They even took pictures of the little cards next to the artwork. Are these people ever going to look at those pictures ever again?? I highly doubt it. Like if you want to look at it later just google it. Why not experience the artwork when you are actually there. Anyways, sorry for the rant but this and the innumerable stairs overshadowed our experience of the Louvre. After aging at least five years, we managed to escape the Louvre.

From here, we walked back through the Paris arcades that we learned about on the previous day to do some shopping. Garrett found a familiar shirt in a vintage store, I found a cafe that proves Ratatouille (one of my all time favorite movies) was real. We planned to visit Montmartre during the evening on Wednesday, but we were just too exhausted from the stairs. So instead we just went to dinner, and discussed how we were disappointed in French food. Most of the food we ate just was not as flavorful as we’re used to. And absolutely nothing was spicy. Our best meal in Paris at this point was still the Korean place. I was so glad I made Garrett go there twice.

On Thursday, we woke up early for a day of … shopping at Le Bon Marche. I know. Of all the things we could do in Paris. And I bet you’re thinking, Garrett must have hated that. But it’s what he wanted to do and I would never turn down shopping. We got a couple of pairs of colored jeans for Garrett. He was showing me the fit and said I think they’re too tight? To which the sales woman looked at him and said “no they are perfect.” Well she made the sale. He also got sunglasses to replace his $25 pair from CVS.

After 3 hours and two trips to the tax refund department in Le Bon Marche, it was time to see some final sights. We had tickets to the D’Orsay Museum, but since the Louvre completely burned us out the day before, we decided to go to Montmartre to see the Sacre Coeur basilica instead. Unfortunately for us there was, again, a ridiculous number of stairs to get to the church. And after we caught our breath, we made the hilarious decision to get tickets to climb the stairs in one of the towers to go to the top for panoramic views of Paris.

And then it was our final night in Paris and we had reservations for a tasting menu at Maison. This was the best meal we had in France. Most unusual item on the menu was smoked pigeon. It tasted like duck. The ambiance, service, and food were excellent. It was the perfect way to end our trip.

There’s still so much that we didn’t get to see in Paris. I really hope we get to go back one day soon. Overall, we had the most amazing trip. I would do it again in a heartbeat.

- Cat

P.S. While this is the end of the trip, I don’t think it’s quite the end of the blog. I have a feeling there’s some pictures of me sleeping on various busses and trains that Garrett is itching to share.

[innocencefactoryblog]

NOVEMBER 2023 FILM DIARY

A few days late, but here is my NOV23 film diary!

Welcome to the season of new releases! Bottoms! Anatomy of a Fall! Dream Scenario! How To Have Sex! May December! Saltburn! Woweeeee! I could talk about each and every one of these films, but my two standouts were May December (cos it was great) and Saltburn (cos it was shite). There is not much to say about Saltburn that hasn’t already been said. Film is a game for the rich, and many directors are born into privilege. However, I can think of few directors who throw their lack of empathy at anyone who wasn’t born with a silver camera in their hands back into their audiences' faces like Emerald. It is a distinctly English view of class, a dystopia where class mobility is impossible and where the ultra rich should be in no position to help. The generous rich are punished for being far too nice, and the not even poor are leeches. What would Emerald do if she was faced with a rock and a hard place (50p instant noodles or 50p cup of soup for dinner)? Ah well, at least everyone who thought the peach fucking in Call Me By Your Name was scandalous had a good time. 

What else happened? I FREAKED OUT about having not seen enough films! Literally up in-bed at-night-talking-to-my-partner-at-5AM-about-why-I-haven’t-seen-Citizen-Kane-yet kind of freaked out. I went to a party and all I did was talk about how bad it is that I’ve never seen The Godfather for fucks sake. I’m starting an MA in January, so naturally my imposter syndrome is through the roof. To rectify this, I made a big list of all the films I need to see before I start. Caught right in between Douglas Sirk and Fellini was David Cronenberg’s The Fly. WHAT THE HELL HAVE I BEEN DOING?! I thought to myself. More importantly, why the Hell have I seen eXistenz but not The Fly already this month? I sought to rectify this almost immediately, and luckily The Fly was as fab as I expected. I also finally saw After Hours, Hardcore and There Will Be Blood, all of which were obviously great. 

I ended the month with Evilspeak, a video nasty about a bullied boy in a navy academy who discovers he can contact Satan via dial-up. Now THIS is an internet horror film! It stars Clint Howard, of Gentle Ben, The Waterboy and Ice Cream Man fame, as the poor boy who just can’t catch a break. Even his teachers bully him! Instead of dropping out, he researches black magic online and performs a ritual to conjure Satan, who can enact revenge through the power of the computer screen. Pretty nifty no? Clint Howard wears a toupee throughout, the costs of which were not covered by the film's producers, although surprisingly being the only boy with a hairpiece is not the reason he is bullied at school. AND the founder of the Church of Satan considers Evilspeak to be ‘very satanic’, whatever that means. It’s slow for the first forty minutes, but the final scene is one of my favourite things I’ve seen all year, so seek it out for a fuuun party movie. 

Now it is officially winter, brrrrrr. Staying inside with old films is maybe all that's on the cards for me this month. Gotta write some short stories, gotta get some editing done, gotta send some emails but even buying a train ticket is too much forward planning right now! November was long and exhausting, but now the festive period is just around the corner maybe I can rejoice? Time to dust off that Criterion of the Magnificent Ambersons and mull some wine, Molly Miles you WILL go to the movies!

DIARY 

5th - Hardcore, Paul Schrader, 1979. 

8th - After Hours, Martin Scorsese, 1985. Possibly the funniest film ever made.

8th - Ratatouille, Brad Bird, 2007 (REWATCH). 

9th - Hellzapoppin’, Henry C. Potter, 1941. No more seasonal depression for me! Anarchic fun! 

9th - Night On Earth, Jim Jarmusch, 1992. 

10th - A Former Cult Member Hears Music For The First Time, Kristoffer Borgli, 2020 (SHORT). 

11th - Bottoms, Emma Seligmann, 2023. WHERE IS LESBIAN GREGG ARAKI?! Watched in Rio Cinema.

13th - Anatomy of a Fall, Justine Triet, 2023. Watched in Ritzy Brixton.

14th - eXistenz, David Cronenberg, 1999.  

15th - Dream Scenario, Kristoffer Borgli, 2023. Watched in Ritzy Brixton. 

16th - How To Have Sex, Molly Manning Walker, 2023. Watched in Rio Cinema.

20th - There Will Be Blood, Paul Thomas Anderson, 2007. 

20th - The Fly, David Cronenberg, 1986. 

21st - May December, Todd Haynes, 2023. Watched in Rio Cinema. 

26th - Phantom of the Paradise, Brian De Palma, 1974 (REWATCH). 

27th - Saltburn, Emerald Fennell, 2023. Watched in Rio Cinema. 

28th - Birth, Jonathan Glazer, 2004. 

28th - Evilspeak, Eric Weston, 1982.

Favourite First Time Watches: Hellzapoppin’, After Hours, The Fly, There Will Be Blood. 

[palettes-and-prompts]

Character Palette/Personality Palette

If I have seen the movie/show/or whatever this character is in I will let you know! But if I haven't I'm just gonna give my best guess to their personality or what I think they like and everything. I will make them two palettes, one based on their appearance and one based on what I think their personality is. If you'd rather not see this just block the tag "character palette and personality guess" I figure no one's tagging anything like that so it should be easy to filter out. If you genuinely like this character and I roast them please understand this is all for fun and it’s just a joke. If you wanna send me a character for a palette and my guess at their personality/interests just drop it on anon or off anon and I'll see what I can do.

Alright so this is Barnaby Brooks Jr. from the anime/manga Tiger and Bunny. I've never watched this, might watch it but probably not. Let's get into it.

He looks annoying. I only need to see him in this outfit and I already know he's a rule follower. This guy's got, like, such a lawyer kind of energy, you know? But not the fun and sexy Elle Woods kind of lawyer energy or like chaotic and fun Ace Attorney energy but like, the frustrating Law and Order:SVU kind of lawyers. Putting that aside I'd like to take a moment to talk about his outfit. I hate it. There's so much going on. The jacket that I doubt he's wearing a shirt under? The necklace? I don't like it. I hate it, the boots just don't feel right and don't even get me started on the belt. I just know whoever he lives with hates him because I personally would never let someone I love walk out of the house wearing something like this. Atrocious. Something about knowing that the belt has like two little metal pieces you've got to put through the holes, it just feels like too much work for a belt that's not even tying the outfit together. He looks like he's about to point to his meal and tell me the kitchen made his entree too spicy or something. I don't think he's ever enjoyed a meal in his life. He's never had that Ratatouille strawberry and cheese moment and it shows. I know he doesn't season his food, he’s got no spices in his cabinets I just know it. Something about that foot stance is telling me everything. Unseasoned food, bland taste. He's mean but in a bitchy way that tells me he's got perfect handwriting. I know his parents sent him to summer camps every year, I feel it. And they were all really lame camps parents just dropped their kids off at so they didn’t have to deal with them.  He’s definitely a mama’s boy too or if his mom’s dead he used to be. Now he’s got like a complicated relationship with his dad who doesn’t hate him he just doesn’t talk to him. God, I just know he was a fucking dinosaur kid, I can just sense it somehow. The first time he saw Night at the Museum he lost his mind and thought about it every day. He's not wearing a lab coat but I can see one on him. He looks like he'd give Spider-Man a hard time, such a villain’s assistant kind of energy about him. I wish he had been given a better outfit I feel like I'm just dragging him but I genuinely can't see anything fun about him, maybe it's because he's wearing red and I hate red. Jesus, I just got a good look at his actual pants. You know those things don't have good storage space. You can't put shit in those pockets, fuckin look at them. Queer eye needs to be called, this man needs assistance. His theme song is Left Brain, Right Brain by Bo Burnham. And he's definitely left brain while whoever he's paired up with is definitely right brain.

Anyway here's his palette based on his character design.

And here is his palette based on what I think his personality is.

So, I know I don't need to say this, I've already wrote that these character palettes are jokes but I feel the need to add this because the last time I made a Tiger and Bunny post somebody felt the need to message me paragraphs about how I'd ruined their day by tagging the Tiger and Bunny post with ‘Tiger and Bunny’, you know, the name of the show. So I'll say it again, these are jokes. Please don't message me some long paragraph about how I ruined your day with my post. If you don't want to see it just block me.  Or you can just hide the tag ’character palette and personality guess’ and you wont even have to see these again if you just want regular prompts and palettes. It takes like, thirty seconds.

[starwarned]

@carryon-countdown 2021

Day 25, 19 December: Sleepover

rated M, 1226 words, general tags: non-explicit sex, pitch manor!, softness in general, tiddy biting <3

Finish reading under the cut!

SIMON

He’s got a balcony coming off where his room is. (At least, I’m pretty sure it’s his room. If I end up on Malcolm and Daphne’s balcony, I’ll throw myself off it and not even try to save myself.)

I land on it as quietly as possible then spread my wings out one last time, savoring the feeling of freedom for a few more seconds before I tuck them close to my back and give the doors a soft knock.

Wish you were here.

That’s all his text had said.

I had immediately left Shepard asleep on Penny’s sofa and flown off into the night sky.

And now, I’m here, freezing my arse off, waiting for Baz to open up the French doors out onto the balcony. I hope it’s alright that I’m here; I didn’t ask or anything, I just made the decision to leave and be with him.

It’s agonizing to be without him most days.

So I let out a sigh of relief when he pushes open one of the French doors.

“Baz,” I breathe.

“Simon?”

Baz looks tired. He’s in his pyjamas — red ones, soft looking. I guess I didn’t realize how late it was.

“What are you doing here?” he asks, pushing the door open further.

“I’m sorry,” I immediately say. He wanted to be alone and I fucked it up by following him here because I can’t do anything but follow him. “I can leave, I just— missed you — that’s so stupid, I’m—”

“No,” Baz quickly interrupts, stepping out onto the balcony and gently pressing his hands against my cheeks. His fingers are warm in comparison to my wind-whipped skin. “No, I’m just surprised.”

He kisses me.

It’s been barely forty-eight hours since I’ve seen him and I already can’t believe I went that long without his mouth on mine. He wraps his arms around my shoulders and I return the gesture with my arms around his hips. We kiss out on the balcony, the wind hitting my back and Baz’s tongue tracing my teeth.

“Come inside,” he whispers against my lips.

“Okay,” I say, following him. I’m always following these days. (The Mage would’ve been disappointed.) (I can’t tell if the ache in my chest is a good or a bad one.)

Baz shuts the french doors behind us and then he’s pushing me against them, his hands on my chest and in my hair, his teeth set against my bottom lip, dragging a startled moan out of me. I feel like I’m shaking, just now realizing that I’m cold, and because Baz’s hands are suddenly at the small of my back, tugging me close.

He hums into my mouth when I push my hands into his hair, weaving my fingers through the strands and tugging like I’m that one rat in Ratatouille. (Shepard has drilled into my brain that his name’s not Ratatouille, I just can’t remember what it actually is. I’d ask Baz if his tongue wasn’t down my throat.)

When Baz starts kissing at my jaw and neck, I open my eyes to take in the room. I haven’t been here for years — not since that Christmas when the Humdrum showed up. The room feels the same as before — dark, warm (the fire’s lit so clearly Baz wasn’t asleep; he’d never leave the fire going before bed), and oddly comforting. Maybe it’s because I know Baz grew up here. This is where he went to be alone.

Now he doesn’t have to be alone. Not ever again. (If he wants.)

I eye the bed where the sheets are all messy from where Baz was. There’s a book at the end of it. I start to push Baz towards it, letting him sit down on the edge so I can straddle his lap and lean over him, kissing his nose and forehead and eyelids.

“C’mere,” Baz mutters, tugging at my hips until I’m sitting down into his lip, hard against him.

We move against each other, my face pressed into his hair, and his mouth open against my neck. I feel his fangs on my skin but I know he won’t bite. Not now. Not yet.

I’m panting, hardly able to catch my breath, and this will be over too soon if I don’t stop now, so I allow myself ten more seconds of just feeling Baz underneath me, his breath on my skin, his hair against my lips, my hips gliding along his.

Then, I lift my hips up. He chases after me with a soft whine, but then opens his eyes when he realizes I’m too far away.

“What?” he asks breathlessly.

“Can I sleep here?” I ask.

Baz raises an eyebrow. I kiss it. (His eyebrow raises looked cooler before I knew he was a fucking softie for me.) “You want to sleep here?”

I nod. “I have before, haven’t I?”

“But in my bed?”

“Yeah.”

“Please.”

We readjust into the bed, Baz pulling up the covers because he’s cold. I slot myself against him, kissing him as he hitches a leg up over my hip and I press my thigh between his.

“This okay?” I ask, muffled.

He nods. Hums. Grinds forward into me. Groans when my tail hitches up and around his forearm.

I gasp and kiss him hard. His fangs are against my lips now and I wonder what it would feel like if he bit me there. He’s only bit me in one place — says he doesn’t want more scarring if he can avoid it, but the marks are already so small.

“Will you bite me?”

Baz groans and tightens his grip on me, his hands sliding around to my back and holding me close. His hips move faster, harder, more desperately.

“Fuck, Baz?”

He nods, pulling away from my mouth to look me in the eyes.

I’m still wearing my shirt, but I pull back from Baz just enough to tear it off, only sort of getting caught in one of my wings. “I know you always— ah, fuck — bite me in the same spot, but — oh, that’s so good — please bite me here?”

I press a hand against my chest, just where my heart beats.

The meaning isn’t lost on Baz based on the way his eyes widen. I can see the wheels turning, even as he continues to grind against me. He looks so desperate, so fucking sexy.

We continue to move under the sheets in Baz’s dark childhood bedroom, finding warmth and softness with each other, and I watch his mouth as he moans for me then sinks his teeth into my chest.

I come, shaking apart in his grasp, and I feel him follow just behind, both of us gripping on tight. We both know what it means to be here. Especially together.

Baz pulls away from my chest, licking and sucking over where he just bit me. He licks his lips and I chase his tongue with my own.

He gets up to clean himself off and I barely get out of my joggers and boxers before falling asleep in his bed. I think I feel him wiping me off with a damp washcloth before he’s getting in bed with me again, curling into my arms.

Baz’s soft everywhere I touch him, strong everywhere I can’t.

The sheets are cool, the duvet warm.

[wienerbarnes]

A Certain Romance (1/6)

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 2,513

Warnings: fake dating au, mention to past abusive relationship

A/N: im so EXCITED to start posting this series lmk what yall think!!!

MAIN MASTERLIST | A CERTAIN ROMANCE MASTERLIST

He couldn’t quite think of a word to describe the restaurant.

The deep tones of maroon on the walls contrasting against the clean, stark-white tablecloths, tablecloths that have been so deeply washed, soaked in bleach and radiating chemical residue beneath plates of fancy and over-priced dishes for people who have too much money than they know what do with.

Ratatouille is the special for tonight, priced at $32. Side dishes extra, of course.

The overly simple decor on the walls with lighting so dim you’d think they forgot to pay the electric bill, all in the name of minimalism and an art form you just wouldn’t understand.

Bucky has news for them, though. Minimalism won’t get rid of their depression and anxiety, and a $30 plate of vegetables won’t bring you happiness.

His collar feels tight around his neck, even though the first two buttons on his shirt are undone. The longer he stands around waiting for Sam, the more ridiculous he feels. He’s sweating suddenly, and all he wants to do is leave, go back to his apartment, to Alpine, and take off this stupid monkey suit of an outfit.

Where r u?

Should be sitting pretty at a table already. Wearing a cute lil red dress. maybe blue, not sure.

“Son of a bitch,” Bucky mumbles under his breath after reading Sam’s text.

It’s Bucky’s fault at this point. Not only is this not the first time Sam has done this to him, set him up on a blind date and tell him it's him he’s meeting and not a girl, but it’s not the second either. Sam has done this three times, and this is going to be the fourth. How do you let this happen to you four times?

It’s not a surprise either when the date goes horribly all three times, either. The girls are always nice and always beautiful, but Bucky’s in such a sour mood by the time he reaches the table that it’s a failure from the start.

That’s a good word to describe the restaurant. Sour.

“Excuse me, I’m looking for a table under Sam. Or maybe Bucky.” He approaches the hostess, praying that whoever Sam has set him up with isn’t here and that they stood him up.

“Ah, yes, your date has been waiting.” She tells him, and he tries not to roll his eyes.

The walk through the restaurant to the table makes him feel more ridiculous than when he was waiting. He feels all eyes on him and it makes his skin crawl, even though when he glances around, everyone has their eyes on their own date; their date that probably wasn’t sprung up on them by a man who dresses up like a bird for a living.

Careful not to trip over his own feet in the dark room, the only lights being small bulbs on a thin string from the high ceiling, he sees a table that’s probably for him.

The only table with one person sitting alone, he spots you looking down at your phone with a slight frown on your face. Sam was right on his first guess, you’re wearing a deep red dress, thin straps over your shoulders and he can see through underneath the table that it flows down to your calf. Nude heels adorn your feet as they are crossed at the ankle, and he can’t help but feel a little bad.

Just because he thinks minimalism and expensive meals are stupid doesn’t mean that other people don’t enjoy them.

“Hi, uh, sorry I’m a little late.” He greets as he takes his seat.

You look up from your phone and give him a closed-lip smile, an unspoken way of saying it’s alright, but he’s seen that tight smile on too many girls before to know that, no, it’s not really alright.

“I’m Bucky, what’s your name?” He asks, hoping that the sooner he starts the conversation, the sooner he can get the fuck out of here. Respectfully.

As far as introductions go, this has definitely been the most awkward. Neither of you know what to say. Not that he’s about to go around giving Sam advice about setting him up with people, because he certainly wouldn’t want Sam to take that as him asking him to try again, but he couldn’t have set him up with someone worse.

It’s painfully awkward, and he feels himself sweating again, blushing from slight embarrassment at this disaster of a date.

The waiter hasn’t even brought out the bread yet.

He can’t do this.

“Listen,” He begins after a few minutes of silence and the two of them awkwardly glancing around the room, as though the avant-garde art pieces are the most interesting thing either of them have ever seen.

“I’m sorry if I don’t seem like I want to be here, it’s because I don’t. And it’s got nothing to do with you, it’s just that Sam told me I was meeting him here because he thinks he knows best when it comes to setting me up on dates even though I’ve told him countless times that -”

He stops when he realizes you’re laughing. Giggles escaping from behind your manicured hand that’s attempting to cover your mouth, he can’t believe you’re laughing at him. As if the date couldn’t get worse.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to interrupt you.” You tell him, the most you’ve spoken the entire night, only really telling him your name and a few one-word answers a while ago.

“It’s just that I don’t want to be here, either. And Sam also told me I was meeting him here, not a date. And I thought that was funny.”

That bastard, Bucky thinks. But he appreciates that it’s the situation you find funny, and not him. He’s never had a date laugh at him before, and as tough as he is, he can’t lie and say it wouldn’t hurt his feelings.

He opens his mouth to say something but another man in an equally ridiculous monkey suit such as his own approaches the table, a basket of bread in hand.

He can’t help but notice how small the breads are and the fact that the butter is individually wrapped in those small tinfoils - not even The Cheesecake Factory does that, they bring butter in a tiny dish - but he doesn’t say anything.

At least now he has something to do with his hands.

The two of you both pick at the bread in your hands, and while the tension is somewhat eased at the table with the confession that neither of you want to be there, it’s still silent and awkward, as neither of you have spoken again.

Bucky doesn’t know what causes him to say it, maybe it's the obligation he feels to keep the conversation going and fill the silence, maybe his mind just insists on making the evening worse, because apparently that’s possible.

“My best friend died. Recently. And Sam’s been setting me up on these dumb dates to take my mind off it.” He says, and he sees out of the corner of his eye your hands pause around the bread and your head lifts slightly to look at him, though he doesn’t do the same.

“Sam was a little better about it at first, using distracting me as a way to distract himself while we both grieve. But he’s got the whole Captain America thing, helping his sister, working with Torres; he got over it a little quicker than I did and… expected me to get over it, too.”

He’s afraid to meet your eyes. He’s not sure why he just told you that, or why he felt like he owed you an explanation in the first place. He doesn’t even know you! What does he care if the date is awkward? He could leave now and never see you again and not feel bad about, and yet he sits here, sacrificing his own comfort in order to attempt to salvage the evening by being honest? Is honesty even what you want?

“My boyfriend beat the shit out of me. If we’re sharing tragic backstories, I mean.” You reply, looking down at your own bread now that Bucky’s head has snapped up to look at you, a humorless smile on your face.

“Had to move states, change my name, the whole nine yards. And while I wasn’t grieving a best friend, I was grieving… myself. My old life. And Sam doesn’t just distract himself by setting you up on dates, he’s been doing that with me, too. And, so, I kind of get what you mean, when you say that other people get over it and expect you to be okay, too.”

Another pause of silence, but the awkwardness is gone now.

“How many times have you heard the phrase, The grieving process is not -”

“Linear? Too many times. If I had a dollar for everytime I heard that, I’d probably have enough money to afford a plate at this place.” You finish for him, a disgusted look on your face. Almost the same look he had on his face when he entered the restaurant.

He laughs, though. The first time he’s laughed tonight.

“Are you two ready to order?” The waiter interrupts again, small booklet in hand, and thick French accent in the air. Of course, the waiters here are French, how is he even surprised?

“Do you mind if we have a few more minutes with the menu?” Bucky replies, not receiving much of an answer as the waiter looks him up and down, gives him a curt nod, and leaves the table once more.

“Listen, I don’t know about you, but this place looks like… I don’t even know, but it just looks sad, and I know a pretty good pizza place a few blocks away. If you don’t mind walking. Or continuing this date as friends?” He squints as he finishes his question, hoping you won’t take it as him playing hard to get, and actually want to be friends and absolutely nothing more.

“You had me at pizza.”

With the bread from the restaurant in hand and his jacket around your shivering shoulders, the two of you make your way down the sidewalk, stomachs rumbling at the thought of cheap, greasy, slices of pizza.

Sitting among people in their pajamas and otherwise casual clothing, it’s safe to say the two of you are the best-dressed people in the joint. Bucky tells you this and you laugh again, agreeing. Slice after slice goes down easily, much easier than any plate at that stupid clownhouse of a restaurant.

The conversation is easier, too. It’s almost like it was so bad before because of the suffocating atmosphere of the restaurant, The Fork, a stupid name for a stupid place.

What was that word he said before? Oh, yeah. The restaurant was sour. The pizza place, though, run by two older, heavier men with ungroomed mustaches and dark pit stains, is much less sour.

“I surprisingly had a good time tonight. I’m really glad we both came to an understanding of not wanting to date due to our individual unresolved trauma and issues, that we should probably be in therapy for.” You tell him, after thanking him for paying the six dollars both your copious amounts of pizza slices cost.

“I did, too. I’m just glad we didn’t have to stay at that dumb restaurant, I mean what was Sam even thinking with that place?” He rubs his fingers over his eyes in lasting disbelief. He’ll never let Sam live that place down.

“Speaking of Sam,” You start, stepping out of the pizza place as Bucky holds the door open for you, “Would you mind telling him that the date went well?”

“I mean, technically it did, didn’t it?”

“It did. But if we tell him that we left with a newfound friendship rather than sore legs and sex hair, he’s just going to keep setting us up on more shitty dates. I mean he’s great, but he does a better job at being Captain America than he does at being Cupid.”

“Agreed. He’ll just keep setting us up with people until we end up dating one of his picks, regardless of friendships made along the way. He’s too competitive, he doesn’t see friendship as a success, only a boyfriend or girlfriend.” Bucky admits.

“So… if he asks, we’ll just say we’re going to go on another date? And then whenever we hang out, we’ll just -”

“Be extremely and explicitly clear about it to him.” Bucky finishes.

They smile at each other satisfied, satisfied knowing they’re finally going to outsmart the bird man, they’re finally going to be done with shitty, last-minute blind dates that they never wanted to go on in the first place.

“Do you need a ride home?”

“Oh, no, my friend’s on her way to get me now.”

“I’ll wait with you then.”

Cheesy flirting ensues as the two of you joke about fake dating, competing to see who can think of the worst pick up line. Bucky feels a bit embarrassed that he probably would’ve used a few of these a few decades ago when he was a fresh, young man, but he doesn’t dare mention that to you. No need to give you more ammunition to use against him, and especially no need to risk you mentioning it to Sam.

Your least favorite, and evidently his favorite, is If happiness starts with “H,” why does mine start with “U”?

He laughs as you dramatically gag on the sidewalk, almost not noticing the car pulling up to the two of you.

“This is me. Oh, here’s your jacket by the way.” You move to take it off from atop your shoulders but he stops you.

“Hold onto it for me. And also, mention to Sam that you’re holding onto it for me.” He winks.

“Will do. Boyfriend.”

“Drive safe. Girlfriend.” He opens the passenger door for you, greeting your friend briefly, and offering a hand out to help you sit inside, closing the door after you’ve clicked your seatbelt.

He watches the rear lights grow smaller and smaller as you disappear down the street, and he begins walking back to where you two came from. His bike is still parked at the restaurant, after all.

That was probably the best date - not a date, friend date - he’s ever been on, and by far Sam’s greatest success yet, even if it’s not the romantic relationship he probably intended.

It was nice to talk to someone without the pressures of impressing them, the intrusive thoughts questioning their deeper motives or what it is exactly they want out of a date with him. He tried engaging in the whole hookup-one-night-stand culture once, and didn’t like it at all.

Not to mention, he’ll never have to go on one of Sam’s set-up dates again! And he didn’t even need to get a girlfriend to do so!

The night couldn’t have ended better, and he can’t wait to tell Sam all about it.

[pascalpanic]

If it’s not already taken, could I request “I wanted to say “I love you” for the first time without stuttering, but that failed.” with Marcus Pike? This man deserves someone who says it first, who loves him equally 🥺💕

Perfect (Marcus Pike x Reader)

Summary: you want the first time you say “I love you” to Marcus to be perfect.

W/C: 1k

Warnings: language, mentions of sexual stuff

A/N: You’re so correct, my dear. Marcus deserves it. And he’s gonna get it!

Marcus Pike is the sweetest man you’ve ever met, and that’s not an exaggeration. The man is so soft and kind, the perfect gentleman. He drapes his coat over your shoulders when you’re cold, he brings you soup when you fall ill, he kisses your forehead and compliments you when you fall asleep on his lap during a movie night.

It’s really not a surprise when you realize you’ve fallen in love with him.

He’s everything you’ve ever wanted, the Prince Charming you dreamed about as a child. He’s kind and caring and so handsome you can hardly stand it. Clean shaven or scruffy, he’s the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. You’ve admitted, though, that you secretly adore the scruff. It suits him. He’s polite and sweet and a fantastic kisser and an even better lover.

The post-sex glow is always wonderful with Marcus. He takes such good care of you during and after, praising you endlessly, telling you how perfect you look under him, how good you feel around him. After, he kisses your warm skin, mumbling how beautiful you are, how much you mean to him.

He means the world to you, you realize. You’d move anywhere he asked you to. You’d give your life for him. Doesn’t that mean you love him? Yes, you realize, it does. You’re in love with Marcus Pike, with the soft-hearted FBI agent who loves and loves and never expects anything in return.

As a man who has been burned so many times, it’s no wonder he has taken so long to say he loves you. He’s always been the one who takes the lead in your relationship first. He asked you out, initiated the first kiss, all of it.

So you’re giving Marcus a break, and you want to do it first. You want to give him exactly what he’s given you, the freedom to be the one who responds rather than leads. He deserves it.

-

The phone rings on Teresa’s desk. “Lisbon.”

“Hi Teresa, it’s me,” you say cheerfully. You know she and Marcus used to date, but they’re friends now.

“Hey, how are you?” She asks warmly.

“I’m alright. Hey, what time does Marcus get off tonight? Are you guys going to be working late?”

She thinks for a second. “No, should be around 5:30 tonight. Why?”

“Just… want to treat him to a nice night in. Don’t tell him that, okay?”

She chuckles and nods. “Alright. Sounds good. Have a good day.”

As soon as she hangs up, you leave your apartment and head for the subway, heading straight to Marcus’s apartment across the city.

-

Marcus walks in the door at 6:00. There’s a wonderful smell coming from the kitchen and he’s confused. He didn’t put something in the slow cooker today, did he?

His mind snaps into place as you jump out from around a corner, and he nearly screams. “Baby,” he laughs happily. “What are you doing here?” He asks, pulling you into his arms and catching his breath.

“I wanted to treat you to a nice night in.” You kiss him softly, smiling up at him. “You’ve been working your ass off lately. You deserve it.”

He’s grinning ear to ear as he kisses your head. “You’re too good to me, babe,” he tells you and lifts your chin up so he can kiss you once more. “What are you cooking?”

“Ratatouille,” you tell him with a wide smile. It’s one of your favorite movies to watch together, because Marcus is a Disney fanatic.

His eyes widen in excitement. “No way.”

You nod excitedly. “Yep. I’ve got it cooking. Why don’t you go change and we can start with some appetizers and wine?”

Marcus’s heart is in his eyes then and there. “You’re an angel. I’ll be right back,” he tells you, stealing one more kiss before heading to his bedroom.

You practice the words in the kitchen. “I love you, Marcus. Marcus, I love you. Marcus Pike, I-“

You’re cut off when he’s standing in the doorway, wearing a white t-shirt and sweatpants. “What’s going on?” He asks as he hears you talking to yourself.

Now’s the time. “Marcus… I- I love y-you,” you admit nervously, looking into his eyes with hope.

He’s taken aback to say the least. His brow furrows for a second but then he smiles. “Why are you so nervous?” He asks, taking you in his arms and kissing you softly. “Isn’t it clear I love you too?”

You look up at him with watering eyes. “I wanted to say I love you for the first time without stuttering, but that failed,” you chuckle miserably, looking down at the place where your chests are pressed together.

“Doesn’t matter. You said it, and I loved it,” he laughs softly. “I love you, baby.”

You look up and snuggle softly. “You’re just so perfect. I wanted to make this perfect, wanted to treat you.”

He’s smiling, his thumb stroking your cheek as his hand cups your face. “It is, honey. You’re cooking dinner for me and I’m here with you. How could it not be perfect when I have you?” He asks.

“Stop,” you laugh through your tears. “I wanted tonight to be about you. I wanted to care for you like you care for me.”

He pouts softly but he’s happy. “You’re so precious. I adore you,” he says and squeezes you to his chest, kissing the top of your head. “Perfect is too much pressure. Let’s just make it good, hm?” He asks as he lets go of you. “And we can start with that bottle of wine you mentioned.” He walks over to the counter and grabs it, along with two glasses.

You sniffle. “I love you so much, Marcus.”

He chuckles. “I’ll never get tired of hearing that.”

[monkey-network]

Why Klaus IS Christmas Kino

Klaus isn’t flawless, let’s get this out the way. My love for this film won’t deny that it bears a couple nits that can distract the experience. Jesper and Alva’s relationship felt like an eye-rolling inevitability, notable cliches here & there, a notable song felt both fitting and out of place, and while enjoyable, I’m not as big a fan of the climax as I thought. But in spite of it all, I love this film and it is one of the best modern animated Christmas films, period? Follow me here. I could go on about its wonderful animation cuz yeah, it’s unlike any other film. But a philosophy of mine is that the best animation enhances the writing and I can say Klaus is that surprisingly well written and has become an all time Christmas fave

*deep breath in* So let’s do this...

I mention that Klaus has its cliches, but you gotta know that it’s smarter than expected. Believe me when I say if the writers didn’t care, this could’ve actually been so much worse. Jesper could’ve been more manipulative towards everyone for his goals, Klaus would’ve given up entirely after knowing the truth about Jesper, we could’ve had an argument between Jesper and his dad about upholding business, the townsfolk could’ve reverted back to their old ways, plenty writing moments where this could’ve been Emoji Movie levels of insulting to your intellect. BUT, they don’t. The film never really turns back on itself, it keeps moving where, as the notable quote goes, an act of good will sparks another as it starts with Jesper’s father.

Even if nepotism was responsible for Jesper getting the job in the first place, he clearly sees his son be more spoiled than he’s worth so is like, “Ma boi, I will send you to the ends of the earth or leave you to the streets if you don’t do something with yourself.” He never cared about his son representing the postal company, or ruining his top class image, he was only tired of Jesper taking advantage of his fortune while not having any ambition of his own. Can’t help but say Jesper’s dad is a very respectable character because the sole reason the whole plot happened in the first place was because he just wanted his son to do better. It’s that act of genuine consideration that pushes Jesper to his wake up call as he reaches Smeerensburg.

People have compared this movie to Emperor’s New Groove through Jesper’s character and I say yes, but this film takes that next step and put Jesper in the pit of pits way early. Reminds me more of Ratatouille’s beginning where Remy’s lowest point is around the same time as Jesper’s. The harsh atmosphere of the island is treated very blunt in how this is our mailman’s nightmare come true. With his situation, our guy is truly at his lowest. Gives up now, he’ll be cut off his inheritance and probably will have worse. Everyone hates him and each other, his post office itself is in shambles, symbolic of how communication is practically thin outside conflict, and the teacher turned fish seller Alva is that path Jesper could notably be if he didn’t try. Everything is literally grey for this guy, but like Ratatouille, when you’re at your lowest there’s no where else to go but up. That’s where Klaus comes in...

This is genuinely the most clever interpretation of Santa I know, hands down. A well established woodsman, a crafter both of living, for him and the birds that reside in his woods, and recreation with the toys he made himself not just for kids, but specifically the kids he and his wife wanted but couldn’t have. Klaus feels like a real person, not just another take on the mythical man. You’re with him and Jesper as he, after familiar winds provide him a letter, a small spark to do something good, soon opens up and gets reminded of what’s kept him going all these years. It is no wonder he sees his wife in Jesper, it’s thanks to him that he could refurbish his dashed dream into a new one. He didn’t just want to do it for the children of the island, but for himself. That is another thing about this film: communication. I mention before how it’s practically thin at first due to a long going feud that isn’t even aware of why it’s still going. The joy in hate is only for hatred’s sake, and they make it very clear how miserable it all feels. That is where Jesper comes in. They don’t take shortcuts with how he gets the ball rolling, both accidentally and purposefully, he boots up to get things done, pushes himself to go to Klaus to make things happen. This is all in part by the youth, what really ties the plot together...

As I mentioned before (again), life in Smeerensburg is noticeably miserable but thanks to Klaus, by extension Jesper, the kids are enticed to do what it takes to get some genuine joy in their lives through the toys they’re able to get. They’ll make them letters, and if they can’t write, they’ll go to Alva for teachings, and if they act naughty, they’ll try to do good which in turn pushes the adults to do good for the sake of their kids. It really would’ve been one thing to sure enough make the kids spoiled because of the toy giving, focusing more on the extrinsic value of Klaus’s kindness but no. The children are very grateful for these gifts enough to feel compelled to do good, and it makes them feel good as much as it soon makes the adults more convinced to stop fighting. It helps that this all takes place in older times cuz I believe this would’ve been far different, possibly worse, if this took place in modern times. That or just kinda rip off Arthur Christmas, it’s my guess. As such, it gradually becomes an amazing Christmas film because it isn’t just the presents, the Santa Claus myth, the festive style of it all that makes this holiday special to me. It’s the warmth... of togetherness.

My favorite detail about Klaus is how it transitions from cold to warm with its atmosphere. We start out with the emptiest, harshest environment, enough fog to choke your eyes, and then we get to this moment with a brighter, clearer sight of the more united town as the Christmas spirit builds in the film, even when it isn’t even that day yet in-universe, so too does the warmhearted feeling that can come from celebrating it appear more and more. This film fleshes out more of what the Grinch taught me, what A Charlie Brown Christmas taught me, what I’ve come to appreciate about Christmas as I grew up in this materialistic world. I can say everyday can have the Holiday spirit, but Christmas is the time where I feel compelled to be grateful of what I’ve made and got and give back when honestly, I don’t care about getting the most expensive stuff anymore like I used to when I was way younger. This film is so sincere in what it wants to say, and you know this is indeed the same guy that made Minions. Yeah, not kidding and I’ll let you sit with that if you’re reading this as I continue because we have to talk about that moment...

Yeah, I don’t like being the Nostalgia Critic, but I too don’t take kindly to the ‘liar reveal’ trope myself and this could’ve been a point where the film lost me a little. Though you know what? It still works. See, with that trope, what sucks is that it can tend to unravel the plot to where you know as soon as they break apart, they’ll get back together regardless of the deed done. This is why I don’t like A Bug’s Life, don’t @ me. But I’m not saying it can’t done right, like in Over the Hedge. The breakup between Jesper and the others is painful, but it is necessary to give us a couple great character moments. One is with Jesper and his dad, who came back personally to see that Jesper has indeed built something for himself. We get no dialogue between them but it’s clear that even when Jesper’s unintentionally successful thanks to Yzma and Bubba, he can tell his son wasn’t happy leaving everything behind, so he lets him stay since that was what he truly wanted this whole time. Again, give that man some credit for amazing dad. Another moment comes before the big reveal where not only do we see Jesper come to understand his own guilt surrounding his original intentions, but in the end they never hated him for coming back, especially due to him inadvertently stopping the enemy feud all together. Lastly, without that moment, we probably wouldn’t have got this smile. When Margu, purest character ever that I could make a whole segment about but I don’t wanna keep you too long, started to tear up after calling for Jesper thinking he left for good but she then sees our guy never really left and we get this teary smile:

I felt that. Almost more than anything else in this film.

Cliched as it can appear, the execution excels in those more memorable emotions for this film. It’s been a year since I watched this again and I remember so much about these characters. And my god, I haven’t even gotten to the animation which... my god.

Klaus is indeed the most beautiful upon beautiful films I’ve seen, and what makes it better is that it all enhances the story. I mention before of its transitional visual from cold to warm sights, but goddamn, the character designs, the environments, the expressiveness, the textures all amount to style perfect for this alone. I think it would’ve as well received if it had a more flat look, but they seriously went higher for a traditional appealing story that compliments the unique children’s storybook look of it all. This honestly is better than most of modern Disney films that I’ve seen, ironic since it feels like if you took Tangled the Series and made it 3D with more fluid character animation. And if I’m comparing something to the continuous mindblower that’s Tangled the Series, you’ve most certainly got on my best side.

Sergio Pablos and his team really pulled no punches in making this a great movie. A great Christmas movie, one worth seeing if not at least once but every Holiday season for tradition’s sake. Klaus gave me a good time, made me cry, and above all showed me to never stop having a good heart because doing good can indeed go far, thankless as it can be. Heck, my heart felt more rejuvenated than before in making this critique, that’s a testament to how much good this film means to me personally. What else is there to say?

It's The Best

[reawritesthings]

Ratatouille | JJ Maybank

(GIF is made by me. Credit if used)

Summary: JJ Maybank is a clever little rat. Always stealing and never getting caught. Until, he finds himself in the presence of your own home and you finally catch him.

Note: It’s been a hot minute since I’ve released something so it might be a little iffy but, i really hope you enjoy it + feedback is appreciated

"Have you heard about the little rat who keeps stealing our food? Just the other day, my finest roast chicken was taken. I bet it's those dirty Pogues." Mrs Andrew's who resident three doors down complained to a few other figures, who slyly had there eye on your mother's newest trinket.

"You should take it as a compliment, Mrs Andrew's. It means your cooking is divine." You endeavour into her daily rant hoping she could see this in a different light.

Mrs Andrew vexed at your attempt to see the light in this particular theft, " That piece of chicken costs me 30 dollars. I don't pay for my food to be taken, young lady."

You threw your head back, squaring your shoulders with charismatic movement whilst hearing Mrs Andrew's bicker about a false accusation that you might be seeing a Pogue. As the daily neighbour meeting elongated into hours of constantly whining, you decided to seek refuge into a certain Cameron.

You constrain your body to accompany Rafe, your trusted advisor and best alcohol dealer. "Rafe. I need alcohol, pronto."

Rafe disapproved your request, seeing you suffer was a blessing and a curse to his sicken mind, "Mrs Andrew's giving you a hard time?" You nodded, freely motioning your head to rest into his chest.

"She's claiming I'm sleeping with a Pogue because I defended the 'rat' that steals her god damn chicken." Even the mention on the claim provoked you making you feel slightly uncomfortable that you had that potential to sleep with a Pogue.

"Don't you fancy the Maybank kid?" Rafe's eyebrow furrowed knowing too much about your personal life.

"I don't fancy him. I just see him delivering my groceries." Rafe prompted attacked your false claim by falling your emotions further.

"So staring at him for three minutes straight and, finding it hard to say 'thank you' really gives the ' I don't fancy him' vibe."

You awarded Rafe with the finger, gravitating away from his presence before you do something you'll regret.

    ✿✿✿✿

"JJ, A chicken? Really?" Kiara was slightly miffed by the actions that her best friend accomplishes the night before.  JJ rose from his worn-out deck chair that somehow stayed afloat giving the circumstances of the holes present.

"What are you on about, Kie?"

Kiara watched JJ fumble his way towards her, his walk was mistaken for zigzags which only met she had to handle a drunk JJ. "You stole Mrs Andrew's chicken and many more things."

JJ remotely failed to make a face to the name, shrugging his shoulder he twirled away from Kiara, "Mrs Andrew shouldn't be so worked up about a fucking chicken. If I did take the chicken, shouldn't she take it as a compliment?"

"You didn't have to steal it, JJ. You could have just asked me and I would have gotten you groceries." Kiara abbreviated JJ's response, hoping the statement she announced stayed in JJ's mind the next time he decides to steal.

Stealing for JJ was like breathing. He didn't need to, of course - but,  he needed to survive. It was like a curse his father placed when he turned to alcohol for pleasure. His friend tried to make him stop, but he couldn't break the curse. He always saw stealing as the only sensible way to survive in the Cut. In this Pogue life, you worked two jobs and were lucky enough to earn a tip. JJ wasn't going to rely on just an hourly income for himself and his drunken father, he needs cash, immediately.

It started with small items, food to help him function for the day. But, as he successful outsmarted Heyward, he thought bigger and placed his icky nose on the other side of the island known as 'Figure 8.' Figure 8 was JJ's dream, a dream that one day he would go full Kook and have a golden statue of himself.

"Noted." JJ bluntly responded but Kie wasn't remotely sure if JJ even took anything she told into account.

JJ watched the sea, lost in the rhythmic percussion of the harsh waves crashing onto the sand. His eyes watched the sunset, spreading into its last ounce of orange rays before twilight awakes. His lips bear the semblance of a smile, just enough to show that he knew what house he wanted to enter, whatever the consequences he was adamant to have another decent meal. JJ landed in Figure 8, a town he knew well from his kleptomaniac days. Since he got the heads up that Mrs Andrews was on the hunt, he vowed to take the beachfront.

His stomach commences into a harsh growl, the pain was noticeable and so was a house. It was three downs up from Mrs Andrews, a typical white framed fence with artificial flowers and wide backyard. JJ's wandering eye teleported him towards the gate, a gate he began to familiarise when his hand touched the newly painted wood.

"Mrs Y/L/N House..." JJ whispered to himself. When JJ's movement came towards the garden he noticed the door left ajar, a scent rushed out of the house and suffocated JJ's nostrils making his belly flip with joy. He knew he couldn't get into trouble due to the door being already open which was odd for Figure 8. JJ approached the door and scanned the ghost-like kitchen to see if anyone was awake.

No one was seen.

JJ pushed the door and it swung open with ease, a blast of air-conditioned of a cold streamed past him, with light jazz escaping through the night. He tiptoed inside, squinting his eyes shut as he didn't want to draw attention to himself. He shamelessly headed from the double magnetized fridge covered with pictures of you and magnets from different states.

"Why do Kook's have beautiful children?" JJ murmured, haltingly placing his hand over the handle letting the momentum of the fridge open revealing a whole stack of food.

"Tempting. What do you fancy tonight, JJ?" He asked himself, fiddling around with the products making sure everything was neatly stacked the way he found it. JJ took out a plate of half-eaten cheesecake, along with a bottle of coke with some fruit on the side.

"I found dessert, but I need dinner. C'mon pretty girl, what did mama make ya?" JJ eyes darted around the island, checking if there were pots present or even a plate visible to him.

"Bingo." JJ teethed with joy as he noticed a pan neatly resting on the stove. "Come to JJ."

As JJ swayed his arching body towards the stove, he smelt the rich scent evaporate around him causing him to gag a little, "This has to do..."

JJ tasted the dish, it looked like someone effortlessly threw random vegetables onto the pan and called it a day. "This is fucking disgusting."

"Tell me about it." You chuckled, repelling the smell of your mother's failed attempt of Ratatouille, and amazed that a boy with the same age demolished the meal in three gulps. "Of all things you could eat, you choose that?"

JJ froze insight, ceiling his eyes shut with a combination of a curse word leaving his lips, "Please don't call the cops."

"I wasn't planning too, Maybank." He was stunned by your response and the mention of his surname.

"How do you know me?" JJ dumbly interrogated the girl, trying to form a vision but the darkness around them forbade him.

You chuckled, as JJ tried to figure out a time where he would have met you."You deliver my groceries every Sunday. You are friends with Pope Heyward, I usually give him a can of beer whenever he is alone."

"Beer girl? No fucking way."

You bowed letting out a quiet laugh. "I'm guessing you are the person who stole Mrs Andrew chicken? and, If you really are that hungry I can make you mac n cheese?"

JJ hurled when the name entered the room, "The ungrateful bitch. She should be glad I stole her chicken. She's hella of a good cook, better than your ma's."

"Anything is better than my mother's cooking. I sometimes ride down to the Wreck for a decent meal. Mr Cerrera's food is the best." You praised the Cerrera's talent whilst you attempted to make Mac n Cheese for the hungry boy.

JJ sent a smirk to his fond smile, "I'm best friends with their daughter. Even though, I'm not their cup of tea... I still get scraps that ungrateful Touron's don't finish."

You envied the Pogue life, even more now as JJ began to blabber on about his adventures of surfing during the hurricane's, going to Mrs Crain's and Rixon's Cove. You liked being a Kook, you had everything you wanted and more but, something was missing. You had friends, Rafe mainly when he wasn't trying to get into your pants and his sister, Sarah but, It wasn't nearly as great as JJ's friends.

"You okay there?" JJ snapped your train of thoughts, placing his hand over yours.

You gave JJ a cramped smile as he took charge of stirring, "Yeah. I was daydreaming."

JJ didn't say a word, knowing it wasn't just a daydream thought. "Cute. How about you come and hang out with us? As for us, I mean the Pogues? But, If you want to hang out just us two..." You cut JJ with a light kiss to his cheek causing a heat of pink to arouse him.

"Taking that as a yes."

You laughed, scooting him away from the stove. "You are my guest. Sit down and I'll give you your food."

JJ did as he was told, hearing your bossy attitude take charge aroused him. "Yes, chef."

You delivered JJ his meal, watching him devour as if it was his last. The small moans escaping from his lips gave you confidence that you weren't a bad cook. "JJ, slow down. It's not going to run away."

"I think you have scored the best cook of Mac n Cheese. I'm definitely coming here, again."

You were meaning to question the boy on how he cleverly entered your house, "How did you even get inside? The alarm was on."

"Simple. the back door was open slightly. Someone must of-" JJ stopped when a gasp escaped your lips.

"Fuck. I forgot to close it." JJ chuckled at the clumsiness of your mind. He managed to figure you out in 10 minutes, which he didn't mind doing.

"It's okay. Maybe you forgot for a reason?" JJ tried to flirt his way into the situation, but you were more infuriated with yourself.

"You saying we were destined to meet, Maybank? I thought a Pogue and Kook don't get along or date." You translated the rules of the two tribes made by Rafe and, JJ.

"Fuck the rules. I tend to break them." JJ shrugged looking around as he proved his point.

"I see. Well, my mother is making spaghetti bolognese tomorrow? I'll leave you a plate outside." You winked, gathering his empty plate.

"And if it all fails, I'll treat you to a nice dinner at the Wreck. My treat..." JJ rambled not wanting to leave your house but, he knew he had too.

"You mean, free food at the Wreck?"

JJ pouted at the response. He was hoping for a simple nod.

"It's a date, Maybank."

masterlist | taglist

[attystark]

Spent too long on this for it just to be a joke amongst my family so to you I present: every feature length Pixar Film set to an Entity, feel free to roast me if my takes are bad or you actually remember some of these:

Toy Story:

The stranger because they’re toys, the Vast for Buzz lightyear and the aliens, the Eye from their fear of being seen/caught, the Flesh because Sid.

A bug’s Life:

Corruption: I remember nothing about this movie but the title alone tells me that I’m right.

Toy Story 2:

The same as its predecessor.

Monsters Inc:

Spiral: creepy doors and shapeshifting (Randal= The Distortion)

Finding Nemo:

The Lonely because Nemo feels isolated at the start of the movie as well as Dory’s memory loss. The Vast because of the ocean. There’s a lot of kidnapping in Pixar movies but I don’t think that’s an entity.

The Incredibles:

The extinction because the Supers are being killed off and the Web because Syndrome’s murder games are similar to the Mr Spider thing (luring a victim to a horrible fate when they cannot refuse). The Stranger because they’re more than human.

Cars:

The Stranger; it’s talking cars I shouldn’t have to elaborate, probably also the Lonely at points.

Ratatouille:

A bunch of rats in a kitchen? Definitely Corruption. Remy controls the human so that’s the Web.

Wall-E:

Cute space robots= the Vast.

Themes of the movie and backstory= more extinction, we should check on Pixar.

Up:

This film was funded by Simon Fairchild, the Vast. The End because of the opening of the film.

Toy Story three:

The end because they all nearly get scrapped, otherwise as above.

Cars 2:

British Super Spy™ means that it’s the Eye, the Stranger because Cars in the place of humans.

Brave:

The Web for trying to change your fate, the hunt because there’s a huge ass bear.

Monsters University:

The Stranger because I got surprised seeing this on the list, I forgot it existed. Jokes aside all of the entities because of those weird fear trials they did.

Inside Out:

Riley feels alienated from her peers and family so Lonely; Bing Bong’s death is the End and unduly sad.

The Good Dinosaur:

I’ve never seen this one but let’s face it, probably the extinction, the dinosaurs were wiped out.

Finding Dory:

The sixteenth fear: Pixar sequels that I forgot about. I don’t remember much about this time but the Lonely manifests as memory loss in 170 so that, also the Vast because of the Ocean again.

Cars 3:

Fear sixteen again, what even is the plot of this one? Probably still the stranger.

Coco:

The end.

Incredibles 2:

The plot of this film is manipulation; the Web. There’s also a bit on a cruise ship so I’m claiming it for the Vast.

Toy Story 4:

Same as all the others in its franchise, let’s face it.

Onward:

The End because they’re trying to resurrect their dad, the desolation because someone’s restaurant burns down.

Soul:

This is a film about someone trying to not be dead anymore. The End.

Luca:

Sea Monsters blending in with humans is the Stranger; the Vast because even more ocean, the seventeenth fear: teenagers.