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kscribbs · 9 months

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Official Melusine Post

Has repressed much of her early childhood.

Extraordinarily loyal — would do literally anything for her loved ones, especially Lucy. Would die for Lucy. Would kill for Lucy. Would even befriend a swan for Lucy. Seb too. Feels it her responsibility to look after Seb, given that he’s somehow even more hopeless than she is.

Was estranged from her surrogate sisters and aunt for awhile, post *Marthinus’ death. The manner of her grieving was very self-destructive and they didn’t approach the issue well AT ALL, even though they all care about her a lot. Tintin smothered her/was very overbearing, Pressyne was overly critical, and Melior somewhat kept her distance, unsure of how to broach the subject. Seb was the only one who at least tried to understand/help, albeit in his own Sebastian Way.

Genuinely likes/cares about Jack (both frozen and thawed) but pretends not to, just for the lols. Jokes about murdering him every now and then, but would never actually do it, and in fact would lay down her life for him, too, if the need ever arose. In part because of how Lucy feels about him, and also because he a) saved her life once and she owes him a huge debt and b) finds him grudgingly entertaining.

Rather clever! But only when she can be bothered to take her brain out of whatever obscure location she left it in last, dust it off and put it in the vague vicinity of her head. Can deffo be a bit of a ditz at times. Depends on the day/circumstances/how much hinges on her actually using her mental faculties for once.

Agent of Chaos. I’m convinced that the day she formally meets Fiera is the day the universe implodes.

Also known by the epithets: Jenny Greenteeth, the Shellycoat, the river-hag Peg Power, the Bäckahäst-like Brag, the Lady of the Lake.

Unusual sense of style. Posh but also mismatched? Dark/watery tones. Varying eras, but has a particular fondness for Victorian and Edwardian styles (the full 73 year spectrum). Uses actual water in some instances (shawls/skirts).

Likes/is good with kids, but in a strict, no nonsense, Mary Poppins-esque manner, whereas Lucy’s much more lenient.

British/English heritage, but has lived all over Europe, Scandinavia and (more recently) North America. (Speaks Oxford/the Queen’s English).

Uses traditionally English vocab. E.g.: Chaps, spiffing, smashing, cheerio, pip-pip, blimey, jiggery-pockery, knackered (and insults) knob, wanker, tosser, prat, pillock, etc..

2826 years old, or there abouts.

Likely bumped into Jacquie and the Twins during the Great Fire of London and just didn’t realise it. She used her magic to douse the flames, to... little effect, clearly.

Ongoing vendetta against Central Park’s water fowl. Menaces them/takes them prisoner in her dungeon (she has a dungeon), but never actually harms them, as far as I’m aware.

Was married. To a human man, no less. For several years. Guy of Lusignan -- Poitevin French knight, Count of Poitou. Dude was deeply religious, and didn’t know about Mel being magical until after they were married/had had a son together. …He didn’t take it well.

Has incurred the wrath of the church on multiple occasions (but then, who hasn’t?)

Once used her powers to wring a guy of every drop of water in his body, thereby killing him. Her reasons were valid.

Is much more powerful/capable than she looks (see above).

Has a good heart, deep down.

Finds the whole “she popped out a million kids, sprouted wings and fucked off” part of her official lore hilarious and will not dispute the fact if/when asked about it.

Doesn’t really like Christmas? Finds it a bit too schmaltzy. But will celebrate for Lucy’s sake. Will do anything for Lucy’s sake. Have I mentioned that she loves Lucy? She loves Lucy. A lot.

Doesn’t really like Valentine’s Day either. (Sorry Dite! Not at all a reflection on Dite; she thinks Dite is cool/hot af, Just. Y'know. Bad memories).

Quite likes Halloween though.

Was cursed for awhile (vengeful ex gf. Succubus) to have tails in place of legs, but only on Saturdays. Lower legs still get a bit scaly when wet. Think H2O, Just Add Water. Cue her “Flop Era”, as she puts it, going down in The Annals. Cue Starbucks stealing her image and paying her absolutely ZERO (0) royalties! Twats.

“Loz” un-cursed her. How about that!?

LOVES the PotC movies. Laughs a little too hard at the part in the fourth(?) movie where everyone gets attacked by mermaids.

LOVES — and knows a lot of — sea shanties. As, I’m sure, does Jacquie!(?)

Listens to the Shipping Forecast for relaxation.

Sits in muddy puddles for relaxation.

Antagonises Jack for relaxation.

Has/rides a broomstick. Although it’s… really more of a mop, tbh. Jack approves.

Possesses The Sight/scrying powers. Hydromancy predominantly. Is preternaturally drawn to the ill-fated/can sense when someone is marked by Death. Has tried multiple times to remove said mark/s, with zero success. Is haunted by this. Blames herself, etc., etc..

Has vaguely defined banshee heritage(?) (see above). And also siren? Maybe? Sprite/nymph/witch/other(?). Even I’m not too sure. Has a very nice voice though, re: siren.

I refer to her as a witch, mainly, as a kind of all-inclusive, blanket term, even though her water sprite/nymph heritage is very prominent. I’m considering changing this to either “nymph” or “sorceress”.

Has watched the entirety of Downton Abbey a concerning number of times.

Can communicate with most fish/amphibians.

Reasonably good cook. When she can be bothered. And makes a MEAN cupperty.

If you pop over to the treehouse you’re getting tea. There is no way around this. Even if you despise the stuff.

Is legitimately addicted to McVities chocolate biscuits.

Claims to know Stephen Fry. Likely doesn’t.

Claims to have known Walter Scott. Likely did because he made reference to her in Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border.

Deffo knew Paracelsus. Informed his impression of elementals/water spirits.

Hair always looks vaguely damp, even when glamoured. Hair when glamoured ranges from russet red to dark, inky black/blue. Resembles (is made of?) water in its natural state.

Always smells a bit like the seaside (in a pleasant way).

Very strong swimmer. Can hold her breath for LONG periods of time.

Can both summon water from particles in the air, and manipulate/bend existing water to her will.

Can turn into an Actual Puddle.

Uses terms of endearment like “darling”, “poppet” and “pigeon” a lot. More often with women than with men. Will also occasionally use more casual endearments like “mate” and “luv”.

Is not particularly touchy feely, for the most part. With the exception of Lucy! It took awhile for Lucy to get her to be open to hugs and the like. Luce never forced the issue, but over time Mel grew to rather enjoy platonic cuddles, etc..

May (emphasis on the "may") have a hug scene with Jack, at some point. Maybe. During a deeply vulnerable moment. Following which they will likely never speak of it again.

She and Lucy have an ongoing inside joke about being married, espesh while out in public (typically under the surname “Miller”, bc Lucy undoubtedly wears the pants in their relationship). Similarly, Mel sometimes refers to Lucy as her “house husband”, bc Lucy’s much better at DiY related stuff than she is. Not that we should be subscribing to gender roles or anything, but idk. They find it funny. I find it funny. Lucy’s the one who constructs the IKEA furniture; the one who puts up the Christmas tree. The one who fixes broken appliances. All while Mel kicks back with a cup of tea, a plate of biscuits and a Mills & Boon novel.

Has a car — a vintage Volkswagen Beetle, sea-foam green — but has forgotten where she left it last. It’s deffo around here somewhere. Driver’s license expired in 1944.

Cries a LOT. About pretty much anything. Wallows, etc.. Is very mel(ha)odramatic. Think that scene in the SpongeBob SquarePants movie.

And on that note^, possesses “Mermaid Magic” (moustaches and shit).

Bi? I think? Or pan, maybe? Manages her emotions just fine in front of male/masculine crushes. …Less so, in front of female/feminine ones.

Isn’t exactly agoraphobic, but dislikes leaving the house. Nowadays, anyway. Some days are better than others. Bit of a misanthrope, to boot.

Would not actually unfriend and/or murder you for going to Starbucks, but frequently jokes that she would. In that very wry way of hers. Mostly bc it’s fun to watch Lucy sneak around, hiding receipts and swearing up and down that she would NEVER buy from the corporation that stole her best friend’s image. Heck no! Perish the thought!

Can make it rain in small, localised areas. Does this sometimes when she spots people canoodling in the Park, just to mess with them. Has been known to enchant small, personalised rainclouds to follow people around (like Jacquie with the snow-cloud in Frostmas).

Begged Father Time for a pocket watch to turn back the clock/change time after Marthinus was killed. Begged Death (or whomever guards the Afterlife) to trade her life for his, also.

Substance abuse. Potions and alcohol and Lady knows what else. Given to drowning her sorrows, etc.. Lucy’s helped with this, though.

Worked out that Lucy had The Feels for Jack fairly early on; would make vague reference to the fact every now and then, garnering reactions ranging from indignation and denial to stoic silence, and, finally, weary acceptance, until it just became common knowledge between the two of them.

Is very intuitive/perceptive (see above).

Occasionally smokes a pipe? Lmao. It’s long and loopy and produces weird multicoloured bubbles that turn to smoke when they burst.

Extraordinarily talented ward caster.

Speaks many languages, most of them European. Particularly fluent in French.

Decent mimic. Can do a drop-dead impression of Maggie Smith.

Decent(ish) shot with a pistol.

Decent(ish) swordswoman? Nowhere near as good as Jacquie though.

Loves to play dress-up. Has multiple aliases. Most of them male.

Default method of teleportation is essentially one big water twister.

Deeply sarcastic/wry/deadpan sense of humour. Uses humour as a coping mechanism.

Is vaguely jealous of Palatyne’s talent for taming terrifying water beasts. There was a nixie in the tarn near their childhood home in the Lake District, and while it would allow Tintin (and sometimes Melior, on the rare occasion that she wasn’t lurking in a cave somewhere) to ride and play with it, it would snarl and gnash its teeth at Mel, and one time it even bit her. She’s never really gotten over the whole thing.

It took her until adulthood to fully trust nixies/nøkkens/anything vaguely water-equine, as a result, but the ones living in the Lake in Central are pretty chill.

She therefore spent much of her childhood either by herself or with Seb, who tended to remain indoors, reading, for the most part.

Still talks to Marthinus, in quiet moments. And also “Loz”.

Potioneering license is registered under one of her alias’ names.

The Willow is planted on Marthinus' grave. It is vaguely labyrinthine inside. And quite possibly sentient.

These days her character design is closer to how the wonderful lmels drew her than to my initial drawing/s! Namely the illo I use as my dp on Ao3. I LOVE it! (Unrelated to Mel but same goes for Ozzy).

Innate magic is turquoise.

I have yet to figure out how Styx, her familiar, came into being!

*The ‘h’ in Marthinus is silent.

#the wonderful SafyreSky asked me recently if I had any 'rules' for writing Mel and I decided to turn it into a fact sheet/post!#ty Dani! 🥰#some of these are subject to change I expect #ML #miller's law #melusine #ocs #updated design #long post

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simons-temple-of-eros · 2 years

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unfinished ford x gender neutral!reader drabble

so uh, found this laying around in a notepad and figured i’d drop it here for u all. might finish this if i feel like it. it’s a little bit risqué towards the end but no actual smut or anything.

.❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。

Sitting at the desk with pen in hand, you could feel a gentle breeze, the cool air of autumn sweeping in. And any other day it'd be a sign to go out and enjoy the weather, but your mind was only on one thing. It chased it, your thoughts running rampant in a game of cat mouse, and despite this you couldn't seem to get your feelings out onto the notepaper in front of you.

You let out a groan of frustration as you scribbled out the jumbled up thoughts before tearing the paper out entirely to join the rest of the rejected letters on the ground.

It should have been easy enough to tell him the truth. To tell him about the way your heart flutters in your chest when he looked at you. The way his laugh made you feel like you were hearing the songs of angels. The way his touch, few and far in between it was, left a desperate warmth in its wake and made you wish the contact could last forever.

And yet no matter how you tried, no words seemed to be able to capture your feelings for him. Everything either seemed too schmaltzy and dramatic or too detached instead.

You know Ford's had some bad experiences in the past with intimacy, and you're afraid that any sort of misstep could make him want nothing to do with you.

And now that he's gone out on a quick anomaly search alone, you find yourself taking the opportunity to try and mentally rehearse your confession on some paper.

But after what feels like hours drag by, you eventually find yourself having gained nothing but a headache and a pile of used paper.

It was then that you decide it wasn't worth it. As much as your heart was screaming at you to make your true feelings known, the thought of losing the close friendship you had with the local researcher was enough for you to push down any feelings of romance as far as it would go.

With the decision in your mind made, you remember you hadn't had anything to drink in who knows how long. Too deep in your frenzied, passion-fueled writing to focus on your body's needs. It's not until you take the first sip of a glass of water you go in the kitchen to get that you realize just how much you needed it.

So busy you are as you hydrate yourself that you only take absent-minded notice when you hear the door open. It takes until roughly a few seconds after you put down the now empty glass to realize an important detail you missed.

Stanford had just gotten back. And he was probably going to be in the office. Where you had left all your failed attempts at love confessions.

Pure panic fuels you as you practically fly the length between the kitchen and the office, but when you get there it's too late as you're met with the sight of the silver haired scientist reading one of the crumpled papers with an unreadable expression on his face. As he turns to look at you, you can feel your cheeks warm up in embarrassment as your heart pounds in your ears like a drum.

"Did you write this...?"

You want to try to explain. Deny it, make excuses, but it feels like your throat's closed up, the words you desperately need trapped in your lungs. Maybe that's why it's so hard to breathe?

Ford looks like he's about to say something, but your body acts first, and before you even realized it yourself you're running. Running away from what you could only assume would be disgust, shame, rejection. You hear Ford call your name but you don't stop running. Not when you run out the door, not when you run past the edge of the forest. It's only once you're sure you're alone that you finally halt, exhaustion from your sudden sprint making you lean against a nearby tree, lungs heaving.

Deep inside, you know your reaction was probably not warranted. But you couldn't bring yourself to turn back now. How could you face him now? Now that he probably knew every mushy thought you had about him?

However, just as you were regaining your composure, you suddenly feel a familiar pair of six-fingered hands grab your wrists. In moments, you found yourself in the position of being pinned against the tree you had just been leaning on, looking up to see the same pair of brown-blue eyes you'd fallen for. Stanford Pines himself, holding you by your wrists and fixing you with a look of deep consideration, as if you were a particularly fascinating anomaly he'd just caught. You could practically feel your face turning several shades darker under his gaze.

"I apologize for startling you, but I can't have you running off again, now can I?" Despite him pinning you against the tree, his voice and grip were both gentle. As gentle as he'd always been with you.

"I'm sorry, I hadn't really meant to... I was just... afraid of what you might think of me now..." You admitted, unable to meet the scientist's gaze.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see his expression harden, and you prepare yourself for the sting of rejection. You'd only hope he would be willing to let you stay and research anomalies with him, but you'd understand if he didn't want you around after the things you'd wrote.

"When I had seen the letters you'd written, I at first assumed you might've been playing some sort of joke on me. But the more I read, I began to realize you truly meant all those things you wrote. And your reaction only confirmed my suspicions." He spoke slowly, as if thinking out loud. Something which he was wont to do, but now it only made the tension inside you build.

"Please look at me, dear. There's something I've been wanting to do since I laid my eyes on you."

#stanford pines x reader #ford x reader #gender neutral reader #my writing #science husband

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samuel-de-champagne-problems · 3 years

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You Can Hear It In The Silence

Summary: Sneaking around can be fun, but sometimes the silence is just too quiet, or falling in love with your best friend.

Pairing: Spencer x Fem Reader (SMUT) MINORS DNI

Word Count: 3.7K

Warnings: Smut Minors DNI (It’s smut, nothing kinky but very romantic and soft) oral (both receiving), kissing, lovebites and tame scratching, penetrative sex, unprotected sex in a committed relationship(like last time, let me know if I missed anything)

Author’s Note: Minors please DNI, I have a lot of other fluff pieces that are totally acceptable for you guys to read. I hope that this isn’t too schmaltzy because that just gives me agita. This is based off You are In Love by Taylor Swift and maybe a little bit of Dress

You Can Hear It In The Silence

It’s a blurry line, going from best friends to dating. There’s nothing like playing that dangerous game of stolen glances and surreptitious touches in a dark room. Eyes ranking over figures decked out in soft cardigans and tweed blazers or black dress pants and silk blouses, desperately wanting to see more, touch more, taste more. The senses could only sated for so long before the desire for more bubbles to the surface.

Across the table, Spencer watches as Y/N sips the red wine JJ brought over. It’s hard to not watch her; to not completely hone in on the way her eyes are light with laughter, or the way her hair cascades down her shoulder, blending into the dark green color of her dress. Spencer kills himself trying to not look at her because he knows if he does, he’s done. Or rather, he knows that if he lets himself love her openly, he’ll only end up hurting themselves. So, he sits there, in Derek’s backyard trying to pretend that he’s not staring at Y/N. The only thought that comforts him is holding on to the idea that Y/N is doing the same thing. He supposes that’s what happens to relationships that blossom from the shadows of secrecy. In their attempts to not hurt others, they end up almost destroying themselves.

He decides to pretend to find Garica’s cuckoo clock fascinating. He stares at the wacky colored birds and swinging arms entirely too long. In the corner of his eye Spencer watches the next couple of moments unfold. JJ and Garcia drunkenly bounce over to Y/N; they put their arms around her in a fit of giggles and smiles. Garcia’s arm extends around JJ’s neck and she lets out a loud announcement for a “Selfie” or rather what Spencer can only assume is a photograph of the three of them. The phone, even though Spencer does have some disdain for the invention, sure does serve its purpose. In all the light rays bouncing around and the blinding flash, pure magic happens. Spencer is aware that it makes him sound like a total sap, but he’s jealous of the phone. He’s jealous that his eidetic memory may only allow him to remember the Y/N’s notes in the margins of her case file or the annual “Happy Birthday, Genius” on a Hallmark card once a year. What he would give to just be able to capture her in the light of company, not hanging on to fleeting memories in the shadows.

Lost in his thoughts, Spencer does not notice an unusually drunk Unit Chief wandering over to the empty chair next to him. All of his awkwardness, Spencer is not sure if he should acknowledge his drunken boss or stop staring at his secret girlfriend. It’s at time like these that Spencer resorts to reciting Crime and Punishment or 100 Years of Solitude either seem ironically appropriate.

“Reid,” Hotch says, leans in close, far too close for the usual uptight and business-like Aaron Hotchner that Spencer has grown to know.

“Hotch?” Spencer answers, his voice laced with trepidation and anxiety.

“You gotta stop staring at Y/L/N. You’re gonna rat on yourselves if you don’t stop staring at her like that,” Hotch tells him, his breath might smell like whiskey, but his eyes tell Spencer that he’s a lot more sober than he seems.

“Like what?” Spencer counters, choosing to play dumb at best as he could, or at least just slightly clueless.

“That doesn’t work on me, Reid. You should stop looking at her like you love her,”

Spencer looks at his boss, at Y/N, and back at his drink. Was he seriously that transparent?

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Hotch. Y/N and I are-”

“Spence! Spencer!,” Y/N shouts as she practically runs over to where Spencer sits with Hotch, watching the rest of the team.

It’s like Hotch isn’t even there anymore, it’s like no one is even there. God, it might sound sappy, but Spencer doesn’t care anymore. It’s going to kill him playing it like he doesn’t care about Y/N, especially considering he’s doing a mediocre job.

“I have a really bad headache, Spence. And I need you to take me home,” Y/N asks him, and Spencer notices an eager glint in her eyes that tells him all he needs to know.

“Keep this between us please, Hotch? Just until we figure it out,” Spencer almost pleads to Hotch who answers with a dismissive wave. He leaves them there to figure out their plans to sneak out of Garcia’s undetected.

“Hotch knows? Of course you know,” Y/N says with a roll of her eyes and a quick wink at Spencer, whose growing embarrassment from the situation is only second to his excitement at the night to come.

“Spence, go say goodbye for me? I’m going to head to your car. You really gotta sell that I’m feeling sick,” Y/N tells him, standing a little too close and dipping her hand a little too low on Spencer’s waist for this to be a friendly gesture to any of their friends that might pass by. She takes a peak around the room and reaches her hand into Spencer’s pocket. He gives her a startled glance, but they both know that the thrill of sneaking around like this is kind of worth it.

As Y/N ducks out of the room, Spencer makes his way to where Emily, JJ, Garcia, and Derek sit at the kitchen table taking shots of a clear liquid Spencer thinks is tequila. Great, Spencer thinks. Him and his secret girlfriend, who as far as the team knows is his best friend, have to sneak out of Garica’s place in front of a pile of loud drunks. Spencer feels his phone buzz, altering him that there is a very impatient Y/N waiting in the car for him

“Uh, Garcia, Y/N’s got a really bad headache. I think it’s an onset of one of her migraines that she gets from red wine,” Spencer lies through his teeth, completely terrified from the way Emily glares at him. It’s like she can see right through him.

“So you’re taking her home?” Derek asks, speeding along the process and for that Spencer considers himself forever grateful.

“Yeah, you know we are neighbors after all,” Spencer reasons.

The awkward silence in the kitchen is only interrupted by JJ’s quiet humming to the song that plays in the background. Derek and Emily share a knowing glance as Penelope starts pouring the next round of shots.

“I’ll see you guys on Monday, Y/N is waiting for me in the car,” Spencer says without a further glance to his very perceptive colleagues.

“You go take care of Y/N, Pretty Boy!” Derek yells as Spencer walks out of the apartment, slamming the door behind him, perhaps a little too eagerly.

When Spencer gets to his car, he stops himself before opening the door. In the light from the lamppost, Spencer can see his reflection in the back window of his car. He runs a hand through his hair and attempts to fix the crookedness of his tie. Smiling to himself, Spencer gets into the driver’s seat of his car and is greeted by Y/N, who even in the dark makes him feel alive.

“Hey,” he offers nervously. Even though they’ve been together loads of times, there is a tingle of intimidation that settles in his heart everytime she looks at him.

Never the one to shy down from a confrontation, Y/N leans in and places her hand gracefully on Spencer’s neck and her face looms close to his ear. Her voice is low and seductive and Spencer swears he can feel himself melt at the feeling of her being this close and him able to touch her. He brings his hands up to rest, one on her upper thigh, placed bravely under the slip of her silk dress, and the other draws circles around her elbow..

“Spencer, I need you to drive us home,” Y/N tells him a voice that Spencer knows he could never deny.

He doesn’t answer her, because the silence speaks for itself. They can hear all they need to know in the silence. The quiet way that their bodies seem to just gravitate to each other. Spencer’s hand cups Y/N’s thigh and her fingers graze the back of Spencer’s neck. It’s those quiet touches that tell the other what they are too afraid to say aloud.

The quietness settles between them even as they pull into the parking spot. It’s like they’re dance partners, completely a routine of sneaking in the shadows effortlessly. Or like they’re actors in a play, pretending that they’re not dying to play the role in reality. It’s a dangerous game that they play. But all of that is forgotten, pushed to the side as Spencer opens the door and the curtain rises.

Y/N initiates the kiss, pushing Spencer down on the couch. She straddles his waist, her silky green dress spills over her thighs and Spencer is in awe of how the color contrasts against her bare skin. He’s not an artist, but looking at her he’s sure he has laid his eyes on the most beautiful being he’s ever seen. He might not believe in magic, it’s all just science and mind tricks, but he’s nothing but transfixed at the women sitting in his lap.

“Spencer, please get these clothes off,” Y/N commands in a voice that gives away how badly she wants him.

“Wait your turn, Y/N” Spencer says in a teasing tone that brings out Y/N’s sly smile.

“Then do something!” Y/N shouts, getting even more impatient than she was in the car.

“You’re so beautiful like this, I-I mean you’re always so beautiful, but you’re just so-” Spencer stammers over his words, and the only thing he’s sure of is that his insecurity is the biggest turn off. But Y/N continues to surprise him each and everyday, and tonight is no less.

“Slow down, baby. It’s just me. There’s no need to go so fast right now. We have all night,” Y/N soothes, craning down her neck to plant wet kisses down Spencer’s neck. She’s probably leaving marks, Spencer thinks, but his desire to be seen as her’s outweighs the teasing from Morgan on Monday.

The fact that it’s Y/N perched in his lap, kissing down his neck and wiggling around in a way that she can feel everything does nothing to fend off the adrenaline that Spencer’s high off of.

“I need to see your face,” Spencer says holding her by the shoulders. He reaches around her as she leans back to unzip her dress. She stands so it falls to the ground in a pool of dark green fabric. Her body is out in the open to him and Spencer’s flushed face must be on fire by now.

“I need to see your face, Spencer,” Y/N says in a way that Spencer knows that he can’t disobey.

There’s that silence again. That loud silence, filled with lines of unsaid love poems and quiet love songs. The silence that says the perfect things that Y/N deserves to hear, but Spencer is too scared to say. Three months too soon to say, I love you, Spencer tells himself. His mind spins so fast that he feels guilty for neglecting the naked woman standing before him.

“If you’re gonna fuck me Spence, we’re gonna do it in a bed. I love you and all but this couch is not going to handle me when I get a hold of you,” Y/N says as she runs off into his bedroom, leaving Spencer dumbfounded in her wake.

Spencer swallows down his fears and anxieties. He sheds his clothes off during his walk to the bedroom. Y/N lies down on his bed and Spencer won’t let the silence speak for him this time.

“How are you this perfect, Y/N?” Spencer asks as he crawls in between Y/N’s legs. He rests his hands on her upper thighs and looks at her like expects her to answer his question. Spencer dips his fingers down to the place Y/N wants him the most. In the low light from Spencer’s lamp he can see how his fingers glisten.

“You took too long at Penny’s Spence, I had to start without you,” Y/N explains, a slight flush to her cheeks reminds Spencer that she too is just as affected by him as he is by her.

“You touched yourself in my car?” Spencer asks pressing a firm kiss on each side of Y/N hip bones. He dances his long fingers up to her stomach, where her own hands sit as if she’s shielding this part from him.

“Yeah,” Y/N tells him, slightly breathless from the small kisses Spencer places on her stomach and back down to the softest part of her inner thighs. He tells himself that he’s got to slow himself down before he loses it at the site Y/N wriggling and moaning at his smallest touches.

“I left you a present in your glove compartment, Spence,”

“Huh, who knew I had such a naughty girl,” Spencer says with an unfamiliar bravery in his voice. Unsurprisingly, Y/N picks up on this and decides to see how far she can take it.

“I have needs, Spencer. Do you think you can take care of them?”

Spencer doesn’t respond, but ducks his head down to drag his tongue across her clit, feeling how wet she is. He refuses to break eye contact and realizes how obsessed he would get if she’d let him do this for the rest of his life. Spencer’s eyes carefully watch how Y/N’s facial expressions morph in intense pleasure. It’s like a science experiment. When he plunges his tongue into her, she closes her eyes. But when he blows softly on her inner thighs then leaves hot, wet kisses her fingers come up to latch onto his scalp. He peers at her and waits for the way she moans when he slips one, then two fingers in her. He curls them up in such a way that he knows drives her crazy.

“Oh my God, Spencer! Please,” Y/N cries, twisting in the sheets. He continues at the pace he’s set, chasing the blissful feeling of her coming undone because of him. The moments leading up to her release, Y/N tears her hand away from Spencer’s head and connects her palm into his. Holding her hand, Spencer whispers praises and presses small kisses into her pussy.

“Come here and kiss me now, baby. I need you,” Y/N whispers, grasping onto whatever parts of Spencer she could touch. Her fingers move to cup his face and she holds him like he’s made of glass. In between the soft sheets and even softer touches, Spencer knows what it’s like to feel precious. Y/N cranes her head forward to attack Spencer’s neck with kisses. She relishes in the soft and supple skin of his neck. Once again, Spencer finds himself not caring that she’s going to leave marks.

“How are you this perfect, Spencer?” Y/N asks Spencer, who for the first time in his life does not have an answer for a question.

He closes his and lets himself float around in the fuzzy feeling in his brain. All he can focus on is Y/N’s mouth. The way her praises make him believe in forever and the way her kisses litter his cheeks, eyes, chest.

“You’re the perfect one, Y/N. I don’t even compare,” Spencer says as he watches Y/N twist underneath him and somehow maneuver herself so he lies beneath her.

“None of that, Spencer” She tells him sharply. Y/N drags her nails down Spencer’s chest, not leaving scratches, just light discoloration. Her head and mouth is dangerously close to where his hardened cock lays leaking between his legs.

She grasps around the base and just gingerly touches him that Spencer is sure he’s going to be blinded from the pleasure. Suddenly he feels almost self conscious. His anxiety is not unknown to Y/N, who lays a comforting hand in his, mirroring her earlier motion.

“You don’t have to Y/N. I mean if you don’t want to. I don’t want you to think just because I’m your boyfriend and I did it for you-” Spencer rushes out, terrified of what Y/N’s reaction will be.

“Look at me, Spencer. Do you want me to suck your cock, baby? Look at me,” Y/N says in a voice that Spencer doesn’t recognize and doesn’t dare ignore.

“Yes,” he breathes out, his voice shakes as he feels Y/N’s mouth take in his tip. He hisses at the sensation. The smallest movements set him on fire. Spencer’s large hands come up to hover over Y/N’s shoulder blades.

“Don’t be quiet, baby. I want to hear you,” Y/N says before she deepens her hold of. She releases him to glide her younger down the side, sending shockwaves of pure pleasure in Spencer’s entire being.

“You like that, Spencer. You like my mouth on your cock, baby?” Y/N eggs him on.

Even though he’s lost the ability to speak, Spencer’s moans bounce around the room. He knows he’s a whimpering mess below Y/N, but he’s chasing the feeling of release shamelessly.

“Y/N, Y/N. Baby, you gotta stop. Or I’m gonna cum right now,” Spencer chants, tightening his grip on Y/N’s hand. He forces himself to calm down to focus on Y/N, but it’s a little difficult when all Y/N is focusing on him.

Spencer sat up, his back against the headboard, and he pulled Y/N forward so she rested in his lap. She grins up at him, and Spencer can feel his heart squeeze at the look. She’s going to be the death of him, but at least he’ll die a happy man.

Much to Y/N’s pleasure, Spencer lets out a lewd moan as she grinds down, pressing her wet pussy to his throbbing cock. He feels a little ridiculous getting so worked up and she’s not even inside him yet.

“Please, Y/N. I need you, I’m not going to last long,” Spencer utters. He says her name like a prayer, it’s a hymn to her ears.

“I got you, Spence,” she tells him, sheathing his length into her.

Spencer pulls Y/N in closer so that their chests are flush together. Among the chorus of moans and mumbles of praise, Spencer reaches down to hold Y/N’s hand. He’s not a believer in soulmates. He was sure that he’d never find his match. Never find the one person who’d share his dreams and become his dream. But sitting there, Spencer cannot deny that he’s tethered to Y/N. Their hands link together and mouths refuse to let go, searching for any exposed skin.

“Spencer,” Y/N groans, leaning her forehead into his. She looks into his eyes and Spencer dares to wonder if her eyes are glassy because of him. It’s magic how someone like her can make a believer, a dreamer out of a man afraid of living.

Spencer closes his eyes in pure ecstasy. Y/N sucks along the tender skin of his chest, causing him to flush at her ministrations. He can feel her tighten inside him, so he snakes his fingers down to stroke her clit, exciting moans and more fervent kisses along his chest and up to his ear.

“Just like that, Spence. You’re so perfect my sweet boy,”

“Y/N, cum on me, cum on me baby,” Spencer cries, finally able to let go as he feels himself come undone underneath Y/N.

Spencer’s whimpers and constant moans set Y/N over the edge. She mewled into Spencer’s shoulder, kissing and nipping the sensitive skin. As her orgasm rakes over her body, Y/N tugs on Spencer’s hair, suddenly quite happy he’s keeping it almost shoulder length.

Both of them feel their bodies come back to life, their breathing steadies and their hearts seem to beat a little bit slower. Gone were the array of moans. Gone was the burning desire to chase their release. Gone was the sound of praise. All that stands between Spencer and Y/N is the silence. The silence that says quite enough for them.

The silence that’s braver than Spencer.

He’s quiet as Y/N flops to his side, entirely spent and tired from the company of friends and strenuous activities that just transpired.

“I know what you’re thinking, Spence” She offers, turning to her side to look at him. He gives her a straight faced smile, unsure of how to approach the subject. He knows that she knows what he’s thinking about, sometimes even before he’s thinking about it.

“I meant it, Spencer. I really do love you,” Y/N professes, finally breaking the silence. Spencer swallows as his eyes scan the girl before him.

“You’re my best friend, Y/N,” Spencer says quietly, and suddenly realizes that it’s probably not what a girl who just confessed her love for you wants to hear. But he knows that Y/N understands-- she understands him.

“What I mean is, I want midnight coffee nights with you. I want small talk and deep conversations and everything in between,” Spencer says quickly. “I want you in secret Y/N, but I want you in public too,”

Spencer watches his confession settle into Y/N’s face. He’s scared for the rejection, for the daylight to break on his dream.

“I’ve waited for you to say that for so long, Spence,” She says, leaning in to close the gap between their naked bodies. Spencer pulls her in to rest his chin on top of Y/N’s head. It’s comforting being there, feeling her heartbeat in the tune of his own. He feels safe, wrapped up around in Y/N.

They’re sweaty and smell like sex, but Spencer doesn’t care. His hair is messy and he’s exhausted, but Spencer doesn’t care. His neck and chest are littered with lovebites and marks, but Spencer doesn’t care. After months of running around in the shadows, months of letting the unsaid say what he desperately wants to say, months of being patient but dying with anticipation, Spencer doesn’t care. Spencer doesn’t care because on Monday morning, Y/N won’t drop his hand when they walk into the bullpen.

THANK YOU FOR READING!!

Taglist: @calm-and-doctor

Comment or send in an ask if you’d like to be tagged (please specify if you don’t want to be tagged in NSFW, but make sure your age is in your bio)

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x reader fluff #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid #spencer reid smut #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader smut #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fics #dr spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x female reader

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fallen-gravity · 3 years

Text

the good kind of scared

Luz takes Amity out on their first date as an official couple.

Amity can’t stop thinking about certain circumstances of a certain night.

Notes:

WARNING: This fic contains major spoilers for Season 2, Episode 8 (Knock, Knock, Knockin’ on Hooty’s Door) of the Owl House. Read at your own risk.

Here’s my first shot at an owl house fic! I love Luz and Amity so much, they remind me so much of myself and my journey as a young wlw, and I wish them nothing but the best on their relationship journey.

AO3

Luz regrets telling Eda she wanted to ask Amity out.

It’s not that she’s being mean or judgmental about the whole ordeal, and it’s not even that she’s being overprotective and going full Owlbeast on Amity for getting too close, or threatening to break something of hers if she breaks Luz’s heart.

Oh no. Luz would absolutely prefer Eda threatening to drop Amity off in the middle of the wilderness for hurting her to what she’s actually doing.

Every time Luz even mentions Amity, even if she’s just talking about her day at school, Eda’s on her back with a nudge of her shoulders, a hip check, and a wink. It’s always “How’s your girlfriend doing, Luz?” this and “When are you bringing your girlfriend home, Luz?” that.

If Luz’s face could burn any hotter she’s sure it would catch on fire.

(She shudders at the thought of how much more embarrassing her mother back home is going to be about it).

Honestly, it’s a miracle she was even able to plan their first date without Eda butting in at all.

“Bring her home by midnight!” Eda singsongs, tossing her staff to Amity as the two of them are heading out the door. “Now go have fun, you crazy kids!”

Luz scrubs her hands down her face and groans into them. Beside her, Amity giggles nervously.

“I’ll try,” she murmurs under her breath, and it only makes Luz’s blush even worse.

“I’m so sorry about her” Luz groans once they’re outside and Eda is out of earshot. “I begged her not to be embarrassing about this whole thing, but she just laughed at me and told me that was her job”

Amity laughs, bashfully covering her mouth with a hand. She’s so cute. “It’s fine. You wouldn’t believe how Edric and Emira acted when I told them where I was going. I thought I was going to be stuck at home with all of their squealing for hours before they finally let me go”

Luz can’t help but laugh. “Are you ready to go? I kind of want to get out of here before Hooty catches wind at what’s going on” she gestures with her thumb towards the door behind them. Hooty is, thankfully, too asleep to have heard any of that conversation.

For the briefest of seconds, Amity’s eyes go wide. “Right,” she says, and offers Eda’s staff back to Luz. Her eyes dart to the ground as her entire face begins to flush pink. “Well, where did you want to take me? You said no asking until I got here”

That’s right. Luz can feel her own blush burning into her cheeks. She’d completely forgotten it was supposed to be a surprise, and that this date was the date to determine all of their future dates going forward.

Luz clears her throat to clear her thoughts, and sits down on the staff to wake up Owlbert.

“Hop on!” she tells Amity beside her, her voice cracking into oblivion. “You’ll know when we get there”

Amity giggles, but she complies, sitting behind Luz and wrapping her arms around her waist to keep herself steady.

...This is the end of her, Luz thinks, her face turning redder than apple blood. She’s dead. She’s dying. She’s no more.

But before Amity has the time to ask her what’s wrong or pull away, Luz takes off into the sky, perhaps a bit faster than she intended to. It takes a moment for their flight to steady, since she’d accidentally startled Owlbert from taking off too quickly, but once he’s calmed down it’s smooth sailing to their destination.

And even now that everything is all smooth and balanced, Amity still has her arms around Luz’s waist, which means that it has nothing to do with keeping herself steady at all, that Amity just genuinely wanted to sit that close to her and hold her throughout the entire duration of their flight, and hooo, boy, Luz isn’t quite sure her fragile little hopeless romantic heart can handle that information.

Focus, she tells herself. You’ve only got one shot at a first date, and everyone knows the first date is the most important.

She takes a deep breath in and slowly exhales to dispel her spiking nerves.

“Look, Amity…” She starts, and though Amity does not move her arms from around her waist, Luz can feel Amity’s hair brush against her cheek as she sits up to meet her eyes. “I know that you’ve lived here your entire life, and I’ve only been here for a few months, and there’s probably not much here that I could show you that you haven’t already seen hundreds of times. And I know I keep talking about going home, and everything I like about living there, but...I think it’s only fair that I show you the reason I fell in love with this place, too” she coughs, her blush returning to her cheeks again. “B-besides you, I mean”

Amity’s entire face goes pink, and she buries it into Luz’s shoulder. “Luz…” she whimpers, so unlike the cool and collected Amity that walks the halls of Hexside, and somehow it has Luz’s heart flipping in her chest even more.

“I know it’s not much, but….” Luz gestures outward with an arm, and Amity finally finds the strength to pull away from her shoulder. Upon following Luz’s gestured arm with her gaze, a small gasp escapes her.

It’s the same view of the Boiling Isles that Eda had shown her on her first day on the Isles. It’s the entire view of the Titan’s skeleton, yes, and the lit homes of all the residents of Bonesborough, but most importantly it’s the sky. When Luz had been up here with Eda the sun was setting and Luz was sure that it was the most beautiful thing that she had ever seen, but tonight’s sky takes the cake (...again, besides Amity). Tonight the sky is clear as can be, twinkling with thousands of shining stars. There’s a distant galaxy streaking across the sky; not quite the Milky Way, but equally as beautiful, and, if Luz looks long enough, a few scattered shooting stars.

“Woah,” Amity gasps behind her, and tightens her grip around Luz’s waist ever so slightly. “It’s all so…” she pauses, her gaze shifting from the night sky to Luz, “...beautiful”

Luz squeaks. “You’re beautiful” she murmurs, burying her face into her hands once again.

Amity laughs at that, but if Luz unburies her face from her hands she’d see the blush permanently branded into her girlfriend’s face at the compliment.

For a few moments after, the two of them fall into a comfortable silence. Amity’s arms remain where they are around Luz’s waist, and Luz does her best to lean backwards into her touch. They don’t move, and don’t focus on anything but the night sky and the quiet, gentle flapping of Owlbert’s tiny wings if they listen hard enough.

It’s...peaceful. A dramatic shift in pace compared to the past week for sure, but it's a change that Luz is welcoming with open arms.

She’s about to close her eyes and let herself soak everything in when Amity speaks up again, nearly startling her out of her skin.

“Hey, actually…now that we’re alone, can I…ask you a question?”

Luz swallows. It must be crucial relationship business if whatever this is had to wait until they were on their date, as far away from other prying ears as they could possibly get. Trying her hardest not to let her nerves show, Luz carefully shifts on the staff so she’s sitting beside Amity rather than in front of her.

“Y-yeah! What’s up?”

Amity’s face goes pink and she starts nervously playing with her hair, like it’s killing her just to even think about asking whatever this crucial question is. Just as quickly as the blush appeared, though, she’s clearing her throat and patting her hair back into place, steeling herself for whatever Luz’s answer could be.

“Was...was the tunnel of love really Hooty’s idea, or were you just saying that because you were…” her blush appears, twice as red as it had been a moment ago. “...anxious about telling me how you felt?”

Luz is, once again, feeling like her face is on fire. “Ugh, I’m so sorry about all of that” she scrubs a hand down her face. “Hooty had this whole thing going on about insisting he needed to help people, and he must’ve gotten it in his head that he needed to help me with-”

She’s cut off by the sensation of Amity gently taking her free hand in her own, rubbing gentle circles into the back of her hand with her thumb. “Sorry?” she giggles. “Why are you sorry?”

Luz finally finds the strength to meet Amity’s eyes despite the blush burned into her cheeks.

Her eyes are shining, which is just about the prettiest, most adorable thing Luz has ever seen, hands down.

“I mean, Hooty kidnapping me was…” she trails off, shuddering, “but...everything else? It was so cute, Luz. It was so much like you to make this grand old gesture for me. I was terrified just kissing you on the cheek the other night, and there you were, being so extravagantly...you”

...She liked all of that? She didn’t think it was dumb, or embarrassing, or completely and utterly laughable??? She thought it was sweet?

It’s decided, Luz Noceda is officially the luckiest girl in the world. Nobody else in the entire Boiling Isles has better luck than her.

Luz sighs, and returns Amity’s gesture by taking her other hand in her own. “I guess...it’s because everyone back home thinks I’m too schmaltzy. Every time I talk about this new romance book I’d read, or this new fic I finished writing, or the proposal I was working on for this guy I wanted to ask to homecoming, they’d just...laugh at me, like there goes Luz again, doing too much for things that don’t matter that much. I’m so used to being shot down for being too much that I felt...scared”

Amity snorts. “We waltzed together to defeat Grom, Luz. I don’t think you can get much schmaltzier than that. Besides…” she inches ever closer, planting a kiss on Luz’s cheek. “There’s no such thing as too much of you, Luz. If nobody back home saw that, then they didn’t deserve you”

A smile tugs at Luz’s lips. “More like I don’t deserve you, you big sap” she gives Amity’s cheek a kiss in return, and she beams at the sensation, adorably scrunching up her nose. The beam stays plastered on her face when Luz pulls away, and Amity gently touches the spot on her cheek where Luz had just kissed her.

“Well, what about right now?” Amity asks, the shine returning to her eyes. “You’re not still feeling scared, are you?”

The phrasing of her second question suddenly makes Luz very aware of how close they’re sitting to each other. Her heart starts pounding in her chest at the very real possibility that they are close enough to kiss, actually kiss, on the lips, if they so wanted to.

“Yeah,” she answers honestly, but leans her head in closer to Amity to test the waters. Amity realizes what she’s doing pretty quickly, but shows no hesitation in meeting her halfway.

Luz can’t help the beam spreading across her own face as they pull away from their first kiss. “...but I think it’s the good kind of scared.”

#my writing #lumity #toh #the owl house #knock knock knocking on hooty's door

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wild-aloof-rebel · 3 years

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Some Favorite Fics from 2020

Like last year, I want to end 2020 by highlighting some fics that have become favorites over the last twelve months. Before I dive into it though, I just want to take a minute to send some love to all of the authors writing in this fandom.

As of the end of 2019, there were about 8.8 million words of fic on AO3 for this fandom. This year, more than 450 authors have added another 15 million more. That’s so incredibly impressive, especially in a year this difficult. Thank you, thank you, thank you to every single person who contributed to that, whether you wrote one fic or a hundred, a drabble or a novel. Thank you for giving this fandom the gift of your creativity and voice. Your work is so, so appreciated, and you’ve helped to create joy in a year where it was often in short supply. 💗💗💗

Okay, on to the fics. I’ve limited myself to no more than one work for any individual author to spread the love around as much as possible, and I’ve bumped up the number to 25 this time around because there was just too much fic this year for me to cut it down any further.

So here we go. These are 25 fics I loved this year, and what I love about them...

Your heart is keeping time with me by yourbuttervoicedbeau • rated E • 33k+ confession before i start: i’ve never actually seen 50 first dates. but i thought this AU based on it was delightful. patrick’s love for david is so big, right from the start, and i love seeing david lean into trusting himself (and patrick) over and over again

will this ever get old? by startswithhope • rated T • <1k i just like seeing them domestic and soft and happy, okay? and while most of dee’s fics are like that, this particular one is a fave because of them thinking about their future and how they’ll change over the years but love each other right on through

Just to Hold the Hands I Love by DesignatedGrape • rated T • 20k+ it’s like a warm christmas hug, full of musical trolling, gentle pining, domestic nights in, and careful attention to fashion details, which are all absolutely the kinds of things i appreciate

A Case of You by DoubleL27 • rated T • 6k+ patrick is an absolute menace in exactly the way you would expect every valentine’s day. it’s funny and sweet and ends with them in exactly the kind of future we all want for them

Dulce by another_Hero • rated T • 1k+ original characters can be hard to do right. they have to be compelling enough to fit in with these characters we already know so well, and dulce is the kind of character who grabs you from the start. the whole series is lovely, but this first interaction with ronnie is my favorite of them

Tea-Kettle Love by ArabellaStrange • rated G • 5k+ even though this coda to “the pitch” isn’t technically canon compliant now, it still feels a lot like it is. it’s about the sacrifices we are and aren’t willing to make for the people we love, taking the new york discussion into more depth than we get in the show and still arriving in largely the same place

Vanquished by Codswallop • rated G • 3k+ if you’re looking for soft, fluffy sickfic, this is not it, lol. patrick is sick here but won’t let anyone take care of him. he’s stubborn and basically minor chaos ensues. it’s funny and sweet but not schmaltzy. the characterization is 👌, and it feels like the kind of thing that fits perfectly into the world of the show

To Come Out the Other Side by unfolded73 • rated T • 4k+ • warning for major character death i don’t want to read sad things about david and patrick very often, but sometimes the mood strikes. this one is definitely sad right from the start, but there’s hope and resilience through grief, and i think this year especially, there’s something to be said for stories that can make you feel like there is still good to be found after the bad

Hold Me Like You’ll Never Let Me Go by moodlighting • rated T • 21k+ i never would have thought that a fic would make me WANT to be trapped in an airport, but it’s 2020 and anything is possible, lol. this is what meet cute dreams are made of

Your mother keeps a spreadsheet by upbeat • rated G • 3k+ obviously i love a good spreadsheet, so this one was up my alley from the start, lol. but really it’s moira and patrick bonding through the cataloguing of her wigs (and all the stories that go with them) that makes this one an easy favorite

keep me in the pulses, keep me in the sound by dinnfameron • rated G • 2k+ this sweet little slice of a summer vacation made me ache to be with friends. plus, sometimes you just need some overwhelmingly happy david rose. he deserves it, and so do we

eggs and the flour, no higher power by withkissesfour • rated T • 1k+ i’m pretty sure this fic is the definition of sweet, in more ways than one. it’s a short piece, but the writing is lush and indulgent in all the right places, just like the cakes being described

sustineo by rockinhamburger • rated E • 10k+ before i was even done reading this fic, i wanted another 50k words set in this universe. the conversation between david and patrick is sharp in all the right ways, and because this david has such a hard shell to crack after being hurt in such a horrible and heartbreaking way, it’s that much more satisfying watching patrick break through it

All-Natural Care, Locally Sourced by Siria • rated T • 2k+ siria’s fics are always funny, with banter that’s so perfectly on point, and that’s certainly true here. but there are also care packages and photos and just so much love. it’s a perfect balance, just like the show

hold on to me as you go by helvetica_upstart • rated T • 3k+ i love a good look at just how long patrick has been head over heels in love with david and how much he was in this for life all along. this fic does just that through the framework of times that they saw their new house before they bought it, and it’s everything that you would want that concept to be and more

Exposed Brick by swat117 • rated M • 9k+ this is such a lovely look at david and patrick a few years into their marriage, steady in all the right ways, even when old fears try to rise up between them. it gives david a chance to be the solid and supportive one in the relationship, something i never get tired of reading

We Could Turn the World to Gold by middyblue • rated T • 27k+ as someone who also did c25k at one point, i def empathize with david’s plight in this fic, lol. as much fun as that part of the story is, it’s really the house and everything related to that part of the story that makes this a favorite in my book. this was posted very early in s6, so it’s not the house from canon, but it’s beautiful either way to see them so excited about building their future together there

Waiting on the Day by High-Seas-Swan • rated E • 22k+ this is another fic that makes me absolutely ache for things i couldn’t have this year, namely my favorite local brewery and all the nights spent there with friends. beyond that, it’s just a very sweet AU, and the scene with their first kiss and the rest of that night live in my head rent free

Pot o’ Gold by ahurston • rated E • 22k+ where is the leprechaun/love of my life who’s gonna take me out to eat all of the best foods that my city has to offer? this one is a slow burn but their relationship is so much fun to read right from the start that you definitely don’t mind taking your time getting there. also, the palm reading scene. good grief.

there is no design by the_hodag • rated T • 12k+ this fic gives us a look at some of david’s art, and all the loneliness and love that inspires it. it’s poignant and painful and hopeful and sweet in turn, and i think it does a marvelous job of capturing so many of the facets of david’s past that have made him who he is

A Little Broken, A Little New by nameless_bliss • rated G • 3k+ i’ve read this fic several times now, and david and johnny having a conversation about their own relationship through the guise of talking about patrick and his parents never fails to make me cry

Une très bonne table dans sa catégorie by cromarty • rated T • 23k+ just the concept of this one alone would have sold me on it—like, hello? michelin reviewer and chef? sign me the fuck up—but it’s written with the kind of attention to detail i always expect from claire’s writing, and the fact that it practically starts with a first kiss but then pulls back makes for a delicious dynamic as they build a friendship over that foundational attraction, both tempering and intensifying the wait for them to find their way back into each others’ arms

happy golden days of yore by blueink3 • rated E • 17k+ i literally stopped in the middle of this fic, sat down on my kitchen floor, and had a good cry. i hate thinking about them ending up divorced in the first place, but even as exes, they’re so careful and gentle with one another and so, so clearly still in a forever kind of love. that makes it bearable to see them apart because even if it weren’t tagged for a happy ending, there’s such a feeling of inevitability to it, you know exactly how it’s going to end and just get to enjoy the devastating ride it takes to get there

Fifteen Hundred Miles by MoreHuman • rated M • 30k+ this is one of those fics where everything comes together just right and achieves a perfect balance of introspection and action, courage and fear, despair and hope, forthright honesty and cautious reservation... MoreHuman makes it all look easy, which says so much about all the care that had to have gone into the planning and writing. this fic does everything well, and it’s an absolute pleasure to read from start to end

840 Havenwood Road E by Distractivate • rated E • 10k+ we barely see david and patrick’s new house in the show, so it shouldn’t be possible for me to be as emotional about it as this fic makes me, every single time i read it. but it’s the home they chose, the place they decided to build a life together, and getting to see flashes of that life through the years and how much love they clearly had for each other within those four walls just makes me cry again and again

#schitt's creek #schitts creek #fic recs #long post

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amydancepants-peralta · 4 years

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(maybe this time) I’ve hit a home run ⚾️♥️

(a one-shot inspired by @jamy-peraltiago‘s fandom challenge prompts, written in a flash of inspiration!) (x)

“Okay, so run me through this one more time.”

Squinting against the sun; Jake turns towards his girlfriend of nine months, a frisson of joy running through him as he realises how seriously she’s taking the task in front of her. “Fry first, then gummy worm.” He demonstrates with a grin. “Another fry, then dip the whole thing into the sundae, and enjoy.”

Amy shoots him a dubious look, following the instructions carefully and trying her very best not to cringe as she shoves the unnaturally colourful combination into her mouth. From his position closely beside her, Jake grins, and vaguely he hears the commentator’s voice crackle through the speakers around them.

Today he and Amy are attending a Mets v Phillies game at Citi Field - Amy’s first live baseball game ever - and once they’d made it to their seats, Jake had been eager to show her the combination of snacks that he has long since considered tradition. “Amazing, right?”

Licking her lips, Amy reaches out to rest a hand on his leg, squeezing gently. “Two things,” she begins, and Jake nods. “First, I love you. And second, please don’t ever make me eat that again.”

Incredulous, Jake lifts up the Peralta Combo in veneration. “French fries, sour worms and ice-cream? That’s the perfect combination of salty and sour and sweet, Ames! It’s a culinary delight. How can you not love it?”

Shaking her head, Amy takes a sip of beer to wash the taste away, and Jake leans in to kiss the remnants of froth from her upper lip. “There is SO much sugar in that, babe. If you ate a whole tray of that, I’m certain you would be able to hear colour and smell sound.”

“And who wouldn’t want that?!” Tilting his head to the side, he grins. “You know, I bet magenta has a real screech to it.”

“Definitely a high vibrato of some sort,” Amy nods, and he bends down for another kiss. “But probably not something we’re ever meant to hear, you know?” She winces, adjusting the tip of her baseball cap and craning her neck upwards. “I’m sorry, babe. I know it’s your favourite snack, but I don’t think I could stomach more of that.”

“Ames, it’s totally fine. More for me, anyways.” Giving a reassuring smile, he lowers his treats to the empty seat beside him and wraps his free arm around Amy’s shoulders. “And I love you too, by the way.”

(It’s still a little exciting, finally being able to vocalise those three little words, and the way they both returned the sentiment so eagerly makes it all the better, every single time - rolling eyes from surrounding audiences be damned.)

The Phillies fans in the stadium cheer as Eickhoff's swing hits the ball with a heavy crack, and as Amy leans forward to watch the action Jake sneaks a peek at her expression, desperately curious to see if she was enjoying the game or not. He’d been oddly anxious about today; worried that she wouldn’t feel the same thrum of anticipation amongst the crowd, or - even worse - that she’d find the whole thing ridiculous. Baseball was something that had been a part of his life since he was old enough to remember, and while he wanted to share it with Amy, the fear of her not enjoying the game was stronger than he’d anticipated.

But then he’d been waiting at his apartment earlier today, nervous as all hell, when she’d shown up in a newly purchased Mets jersey and sneakers that matched his own. Stood in his kitchen with a proud smile, spouting out stats on some of his favourite players as he’d finished getting ready (all of which had clearly been recently researched); and he knows that this probably sounds ridiculously schmaltzy, but he swears he fell even more in love with her right there and then.

Eickhoff stops his run at second base, eyeing off the Mets’ shortstop Cabrera as he lobs the ball back to the pitcher, and Amy joins in on the applause that litters the crowd. “Shortstop - that’s what you used to play, right?”

Jake nods, his eyes suddenly trained on a moment a few rows forward; watching as a young boy no older than six shares a joke with his father, meeting his offered high five with obvious glee. “When I was in little league, yeah,” he mumbles as the nostalgia washes over him.

There was a time when that would have been him; wearing his team jersey with pride as he ate too many hotdogs, laughing with Roger, riding high on his shoulders as they waded through the crowd on their way home. When they were watching baseball, there weren’t screaming matches filtering through closed doors, or strange lingerie stuffed in-between carseats for him to ignore on the way to school. At the stadium, it was just Jake and his Dad - a place where, for nine blissful innings, the rest of the world seemed to simply fade away.

It had been mid-season and a month after Jake’s seventh birthday when Roger had walked away from it all, and now - much like the tin of baseball cards that Jake had stashed far to the back of a cupboard - the value of his memories are only sentimental (but priceless all the same).

Amy’s knee nudges against his thigh, and Jake’s met with a pair of beautifully gentle eyes when he turns towards her. Her voice is soft as she asks him if he’s okay, and he adjusts the back of his own cap, running a hand along the base of his neck. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just … thinking.”

She nods, twisting in her seat and resting her elbow along the back of his. “Did you keep playing after Roger left?”

Nodding, Jake leans back into his seat, fiddling with his hat again as the memory of sitting at Sal’s Pizza for hours after the game, just in case Roger might swing by, surfaces from the corner of his mind. “Just for the rest of the season. I guess for a while there, I had sorta convinced myself that he would be coming back any day now. My plan was to just keep doing everything I normally did, so that when he did come back, it would almost feel like he’d never left.” Amy’s hand falls onto the nape of his neck, sweeping slowly in soothing strokes, and he sighs, relaxing into her touch. “But as the months went by, and the phone calls grew fewer, the idea of putting the uniform on again just seemed … I don’t know … wrong.”

Letting out a tiny hum of assent, Amy’s fingers card into the bottom of Jake’s hair. “You still like watching the game, though?”

He nods again, a smile growing onto his face as he explained his mother’s insistence on taking him to games after Roger left. “She’d never quite gotten a grip on the right terminology, and always cheered for both teams regardless of who was playing; but her enthusiasm was definitely contagious.” It had worked incredibly well at reigniting the love Jake once had for the game, and over the years he’d branched out and watched matches with college buddies and friends from the academy alike.

It was unexpected - but also so completely typical of dating someone like Amy - for today to be the day when all of his childhood memories came out in force. “Sorry, babe. I’m really dragging the vibe down here. Maybe we should - mmmh - ” Jake’s last few words die in his mouth as his girlfriend presses her lips against his, the palm of her hand resting against his cheek in a kiss that he only knows as being quintessentially Amy.

She smiles when they part, brushing away a stray lock of hair from his fringe. “You don’t ever need to apologise for talking about your past, Jake. I want to hear all of it, regardless of where we are. If it matters to you, it matters to me.”

Mumbling another I love you, Jake draws Amy in for a longer kiss, hand wrapping around her waist and pulling away only when the crowd cheers at Herrera’s fly ball. It was pretty amazing, how talking about memories with Amy rarely felt painful, and on days like today he has the strongest instinct that it’s largely because with her, he can already see his future taking shape.

Leaning her body into his, Amy’s arm comes to rest comfortably on top of his upper thigh as she turns her attention back to the game in front of them, and softly she murmurs, “This is way better than watching the game in Manny’s living room.”

The sun feels warm against Jake’s skin as he links their fingers together, planting a kiss to the top of her baseball cap in silent agreement. It was a beautiful day in a lot of ways - the Met’s current lead of 2-0 a fine example - and getting to spend it with Amy made it all the better.

It’s at the bottom of the third inning that Amy twists away from Jake, rustling through her backpack before returning to her previous position and holding up a bag of nuts with unconstrained pride. “I thought we might get snacky.”

“You really are the perfect woman.”

“I bet you say that to all the girls you bring here.”

Wrapping his hand around Amy’s wrist, Jake squeezes gently. “Apart from my mom, and occasionally Gina, you’re the only girl I’ve brought here, Ames.” It’s a small distinction, but one he feels is important to make, and the soft smile that Amy gives him in return reaffirms his instinct.

She kisses his cheek, brushing her lips against his skin as she moves to whisper in his ear. “Keep talking like that Peralta, and you’re going to see some solid third base action tonight.” Another kiss, this time to the base of his earlobe. “Maybe even a home run, once you see what I’ve got on underneath this jersey.”

(It’s an entirely new experience, trying to avoid getting an erection in a stadium while your girlfriend chuckles softly beside you - but one that Jake doesn’t totally hate, if only for the knowledge that the wait is going to be completely worth it.)

He’s fully reclined into his seat, one arm wrapped around Amy’s shoulders when the Kiss Cam pans onto them at the top of the fifth inning, breaking into laughter as he watches Amy’s face quickly turn a delightful shade of pink. He’s still considering a humble peck to her cheek when she swivels in her seat, coiling her hand around his waist and pulling him in for an almost non-PG13 kiss before another moment can be wasted, and as the crowd cheers and Sixpence None The Richer plays in the background, Jake knows that he is totally, utterly and madly in love with the one and only Amy Santiago.

There’s an oversized foam finger occupying Jake’s right hand, and his girlfriend’s fingers twisted around his left as they leave the field hours later, riding the high of another Met’s victory as they shuffle towards the exit. He listens contentedly as Amy chatters excitably about the potential for statistical analysis of the game - something about sabermetrics that only makes him think of Star Wars - and it’s as they head towards the carpark that Jake finds himself completely distracted once more.

He watches as a family in front of them move along the footpath, both parents holding onto one hand each of their child as they swing from their parent’s arms, the overjoyed giggles filtering through the noise of a departing crowd as they bounce on and off the pavement.

It’s the feeling of Amy’s hand in his, and the still unspoken assurance that both of them are in this for the long haul that allows Jake’s mind to wonder of the possibility of such a moment ever belonging to him. He can almost see it: a chuckling toddler bounding between his and Amy’s arms, wearing their favourite jersey and singing the team song as they head home, just in time for bath and bed and some well-deserved Mommy and Daddy time (aka, falling asleep on the couch). It’s a future so simplistic, but for the longest time seemed unthinkable, and Jake breaks out into a wide grin at the sheer notion that something so great as a lifetime with Amy could ever be more than just an unrequited dream.

Amy’s hand squeezes his as they draw nearer to her car, her face growing curious as she looks up at Jake. “What’s got you so smiley all of the sudden, Peralta?”

Shrugging nonchalantly, Jake hunches slightly to drop a quick kiss to Amy’s lips. “I’ve just spent an afternoon in the sunshine with a beautiful woman beside me, watching my favourite team win. There’s a lot of reasons to smile right there, babe.”

Resting her weight against her passenger door, Amy rests her hands on either side of Jake’s waist and looks up at him with an equally happy grin. “Thank you for taking me here, Jake. I loved every second of it.” Lowering her grip slightly, she digs her fingers into his side in a request for closeness; and Jake bridges the gap for another kiss, letting both of them sink into it as the lack of surrounding strangers lends to a sense of privacy.

The subtle scent of her perfume lingers over his senses as Jake pulls away, held closely still by Amy’s curled fingers around his belt loops, and he leans his forehead against hers. “What was that you were saying earlier about hitting some bases tonight?”

He chuckles as she pushes him away with a gentle shove, giving him the Santiago wink (also known as a slow blink). “How about we head back to my place and I show you what I mean, detective?”

The car fills up with laughter and the easy conversations of two best friends in love as Amy navigates them through the streets of Brooklyn - and as they head closer to home, Jake already knows that whatever the future may hold, with Amy by his side, they were going to knock it right out of the park.

#peraltiago baseball game cuteness #b99 fic #peraltiago fanfiction #distracting me from the fic I was nearly finished writing? it's more likely than you think #jake x amy fic #my writing

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night-unfurls-its-splendour · 3 years

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The Critique of Manners: Part III

~Or~

A Somewhat Indecisive Review of “Emma” (Miramax, 1996)

I have a feeling this review is gonna be a little harder for me to write. Everyone knows that recaps and reviews are most entertaining when the writer has an intense dislike (or intense feeling of any kind) for the drama they’re reviewing. It falls to other writers to pan or praise this film as they will, but I simply don’t have many particularly strong feelings about it at all. I have neither that repulsed dislike for this movie such as I did for Emma 1997, nor that disappointed frustration as for certain aspects of Emma. 2020, but neither do I have a deep, profound love and appreciation for it as I do for Emma 2009.

Written and Directed by American Screenwriter, director and actor, Douglas McGrath, Emma (1996) is rather what one expects it to be: a 90’s romance film. Perhaps it’s because I had expectations due to the era in which it was made, but I think I have a tendency to excuse some of the problems with this film. There are many unnecessary additions (for comedy’s sake usually and often quite cringe-y) and one definitely can’t claim that the dialogue hasn’t been tampered with. I don’t normally side with the “I do so miss Austen’s biting wit” crowd but, by ‘eck I felt it this time. That’s because Austen’s Biting Wit™ just doesn’t suit a fluffy 90’s chick flick (which this film is in a way that other big screen Austen adaptations of the time just aren’t – and I think approaching this film from the 90’s chick flick perspective is probably the best way to digest it.) This version, more than any other (except perhaps 2009) brings the concept of Emma-as-Matchmaker to the fore with a particular emphasis precisely because it’s a concept that fits well with the rom-com style of filmmaking used here.

The bones of this review, like my review for the ITV version, were written six years ago following my initial viewing only a select number of portions survive from that review (which is still on IMDb).

As with all my reviews I'll be comparing the script, characterizations and plot to the book and commenting on the authenticity and attractiveness of the costumes, and suitability of the houses and sets.

Let’s dive in.

Cast & Characterization

Emma is arguably the easiest of Austen’s works to read because of Emma’s generally good (if condescending and overly self-confident) character, and Mr. Knightley’s sober, mature but exceedingly pleasant manner. I had my doubts about Gwyneth Paltrow playing an Austen heroine, but I at least had faith in Jeremy Northam’s ability to portray the mature Mr. Knightly. My expectations were not entirely disappointed in either case.

My prevailing feeling about this film is that it’s not so much set in Jane Austen’s Regency England, but in an American fantasy of what Regency England was like. Perhaps the biggest factor that reinforces this impression is (of course) the casting choice for our leading lady, Gwyneth Paltrow.

Freckled, ruddy and thin as a twig, Gwyenth didn’t quite, to my mind, fit the physical description of Emma, who is supposed to be “The picture of health” according to Mrs. Weston. Add to this the Regency beauty ideal of a soft and shapely figure with regular features. Fair hair was generally preferred (and I have always imagined Emma as blond, although I’m given to understand that Austen’s idea of pretty generally favored dark hair), so I can’t fault Gwynnie there. What I can fault though is her so-so British accent.

I recently learned that the reason McGrath thought Paltrow would be a good choice was because she’s the only Texan he’d ever met who’d managed to entirely throw off her native accent; I guess he decided that if she could do that she could do any accent work? I guess? Seems questionable to me.

You know Joely Richardson was considered for this part? Gorgeous, refined (British) GODDESS Joely Richardson was passed over because Gwyenth managed to shake an embarrassing accent.

I hate American directors.

I’m not sure if it’s just part of the accent, or her attempt to sound upper class, but on this most recent re-watch it hit me for the first time how very nasal many of her line deliveries are. She also has this problem with looking (and sounding) sort of vapid and… just what is happening here?

Is she having a stroke at the end there?

A bigger problem than Emma’s casting, however, is her characterization.

Part of the above mentioned script tampering is in lockstep with some of the issues with Emma’s characterization here. Her very teenager-esque swings from vowing to never make another match again to immediately trying to think of another guy to set Harriet up with, and her getting carried away in potential scenarios “But if he seems sad I shall know that John has advised him not to marry Harriet! I love John! Or he may seem sad because he fears telling me he will marry my friend. How could John let him do that? I hate John!” (Especially when you never even really get to meet John Knightley in this version? Ugh, pass me with this shit) is so bizarrely childish it’s a little hard to stomach. She spends the movie going back and forth between mature and manipulative to childish and naïve and it just… doesn’t work for me. Emma can be all of these things but the transition from one extreme to another here seems a bit disjointed to me.

Knightley was a bit of a disappointment to me in this version. That’s not Jeremy Northam’s fault because I can’t think of a better choice they could have made. McGrath showed much better judgment with his choice for Mr. Knightley than he did with Emma.

My biggest problem with this interpretation was how laid back he was when he was supposed to chastising Emma. Their quarrels became more like mere disagreements so the proposal line of lecturing her and her bearing it as no other woman would have isn’t entirely earned. Even in the big scene at Box Hill where Knightley is really supposed to lay into Emma, he starts off pretty solidly, but by the end so doe-eyed and apologetic it fails to deliver the sting of rebuke that is Emma’s biggest learning moment in the story. Perhaps they were trying to go for a more disappointed feel (the kind that makes you feel worse than being shouted at because you really respect the person you let down) but it just didn’t come through for me.

Also of note is the fact that, (I assume) because John Knightley isn’t really allowed time to be a character in this film, McGrath took some of John’s introverted tendencies and transplanted them into his more convivial older brother (“I just want to stay home, where it’s cozy.” – I mean I feel that, but this isn’t something George Knightley would say.)

Onto the less central characters

I question also the choice of Toni Colette for Harriet Smith. I mean I actually liked her performance more on this watch than previously but I just don’t think she’s pretty enough for Harriet, and she looks a bit clumsy (though that might have more to do with her costumes.)

I also noted that McGrath bumps Harriet’s comprehension skills up just a scooch. Emma never has to explain the “Courtship” riddle to her, Harriet figures it out on her own after a while, while she never manages to in the book.

Now we come to the crux of Jane Fairfax, played by Polly Walker. I don’t care for this choice. My issue is the simple fact that she just isn’t believable to me as a demure, wronged character like Jane Fairfax. Seriously she looks like she would sooner throw Frank across the room than take his cruel teasing, and not in the subtle way that Olivia Williams managed to. They never even utilized her by including some of Jane’s more pointed returns to Frank’s jabs, which they even managed to squeeze into the massively cut down TV movie.

Speaking of Frank; Ewan McGregor, though generally delightful, was so under-used. Frank and Jane’s plotline always kind of gets shafted in Theatrical release adaptations of this story. It’s not as bad here as it is in say, the 2020 adaptation (they were in that version so little I actually forgot what their actors looked like), but it’s still pretty stunted.

I find it interesting that Ewan McGregor himself thinks his performance in this movie isn’t good; and I’ll agree it’s not his best (certainly it’s no Obi-wan Kenobi) but I thought he did a pretty good job with obviously unfamiliar material

Also if the Davies screenplay of ’97 made Frank’s character too caddish, I think this version didn’t make him caddish enough. I mean he’s hardly around enough to really develop his flirtation with Emma, and they merged Strawberry Picking and Box Hill into one sequence so we never see Frank’s ill humors. I can perhaps excuse this, since it seems like a nuanced story really wasn’t what McGrath was going for here, I think. This is a lite version of the story; schmaltzy fluff for teenage girls’ movie nights. Frank’s ill humors wouldn’t really have fit the tone of this version at all.

Interestingly enough, though it’s taken me a long time to make this decision, I think Alan Cumming might be the definitive Elton? He’s the only one who doesn’t immediately read as a slime ball from the get go. I mean he’s got all the warning signs that Austen wrote into him, but no more than that. He’s not slinking about greasily or obviously pandering (at first), so Emma’s uneasy realization of what’s really happening here isn’t a hundred miles behind the viewer’s (maybe just fifty).

There are as many Mrs. Eltons out there as there are adaptations of this story, and they’re all pretty great (funky accents aside), but other than the 1997 take, this one might be the least great to me. She’s not nearly pushy enough, because Mrs. Elton would never let Emma prompt the conversation when she could do it herself.

Also, I think McGrath misunderstands Mrs. Elton’s brand of New Money vulgarity. He has her talking with her mouthful, clanking her utensils on her plate as she eats, putting biscuits which she’s bitten into back onto communal plates, which I think even Mrs. Elton would know not to do. Table manners are pretty basic; the couth that Mrs. Elton lacks is of a more nuanced social kind – for instance, what is and isn’t considered gauche to talk about (like how big one’s brother in law’s house is or how many horses he keeps.)

(A sudden thought has just occurred to me: is Mrs. Elton just a more mean-spirited Hyacinth Bucket from Keeping Up Appearances? “It’s meh sister, Mrs. Suckling! That’s right, the one with an estate in Warwickshire and the two barouche landaus!”)

Sophie Thompson’s Miss Bates is chatty and one of better takes on the character, but lack of necessary background hinders her impact on Emma’s story. The comedy in her scenes is some of the best and actually made me laugh, although I think she was just way too giggly.

Miss Bates’s mother, Mrs. Bates, is played by Sophie Thompson’s real-life mother Phyllida Law in a completely coincidental quirk of casting. (I noted in this film how very much Emma Thompson, Sophie’s older sister looks like their mother.)

My only other serious issue with characterization in this adaptation is the representation of Mr. Woodhouse. He is somehow simultaneously more cheery and more disagreeable than he is in the book. His chiding about the cake at the Weston’s wedding seems more like a scolding rather than an anxious admonishment. In one of the first scenes, during Mr. Woodhouse’s “Poor Miss Taylor” speech, he says he cannot understand why she would want to give up her comfortable life with himself and Emma, to have “mewling children who bring the threat of disease every time they enter or leave the house,” and he says this IN FRONT OF ONE OF HIS TWO DAUGHTERS.

Of course in the book, Mr. Woodhouse does lament Miss Taylor marrying, leaving and even having children – but this is all in the context of the danger childbirth presents to Miss Taylor (And the fact that he can’t stand losing a companion). These are his complaints – not the children themselves. In addition, his elder daughter has quite a fine number of children, all of them very young, of whom Mr. Woodhouse is very fond. He’s a character that needs to be carefully handled because, much like his daughter, it’s very easy for him to become unlikeable.

For the rest of the time, though, he just sort of cheerily laughs and is very at ease, when Mr. Woodhouse, as a chronic hypochondriac should be made anxious by just about everything.

Sets & Surroundings

One thing I find interesting about this adaptation is that the houses they chose to use are all of a very neo-classical Palladian style, which I believe (given her disdain for the contemporary trend of knocking down England’s great houses just to rebuild them in a more fashionable style) Austen may have disliked to some degree.

One such house is Came House in Dorset, which was used as the Woodhouse’s estate, Hartfield. Now Hartfield is, I think, described as a well-built modern house so this could be pretty accurate (although Modern could refer to the red bring, boxy style of Georgian architecture, such as the houses used in the 1997, 2009 and 1972 versions.)

Another, Claydon House in Buckinghamshire played the role of Donwell Abbey. I think this might be the worst exterior ever used for Donwell, from a book accuracy perspective. Utterly Georgian, with its’ square façade, Claydon house sort of directly contradicts Austen description of being “Larger than Hartfield, and totally unlike it, covering a good deal of ground, rambling and irregular…” not only is the architecture totally wrong, so is its’ situation, in Georgian fashion, perched on a hill, when Donwell (a very old building) is supposed to be “Low and sheltered”.

Mapperton House is maybe the grandest house yet used for Mr. Weston’s Randalls (I’ve already covered in my review of Emma (2020) why this is a problem – although in this version, as in the 1997 adaptation, there’s no full panic over the snow, so this is less of a problem, but a house like this is still too grand for the reasonably sized Randalls of the book), but it fits the usual 15th-16th century house type that always seems to be used for Randalls.

A myriad of other great houses were used for interiors, however other than Crichel House (Dorset), which was used for Donwell’s interiors, I can’t find information on which ones where used for what. They include Breakspear House (Harefield), Coker Court (Somerset), Stafford House (Staffordshire) and Syon House & Park (Middlesex).

I really appreciate the interiors which were all very colorful and even included doors and molding painted the same color as the walls which is a very Georgian decorating convention, although it looks odd to the modern viewer.

Costumes & Hair

As a rule, the costumes (Created by Ruth Myers) in this movie are pretty damn good, composition wise, but the arrangement leaves a lot to be desired. Myers talked extensively of wanting the costumes to be colorful and bright like the water colors of the time, which she achieved brilliantly. What I find funny is that she talked about using color as if it would be controversial from a historical accuracy point of view, which couldn’t be further from the truth.

The evening wear is generally excellent

My only question around evening wear here is… what’s up with the waistline on Harriet’s ball gown? Why is it going up in the middle? Toni Collette (who actually gained weight for the role, since Harriet was described as “Reubenesque”) verged on looking a little dumpy throughout the film and awkwardly bumping up her waistline in the middle really didn’t help.

I’m pleased to report that is is the one version where Miss Bates’s evening-wear is allowed to look like evening wear. Even Maiden Aunts wore shorter sleeves and lower necklines at dinner or balls. They fussed her up with some lace gloves and frilly fichus but it follows the conventions of the time. I appreciate that immensely, though I have the sneaking suspicion that it’s because of Sophie Thompson’s age.

At 37 Thompson was an unconventionally young choice for Miss Bates, a character who previously had only been cast as older than 50 (Prunella Scales, who would play the role later in 1996, was 64). Indeed, Douglas McGrath almost passed Thompson over for the role on account of her age, but reconsidered after seeing her in spectacles. It seems possible to me that since Thompson was considered young they dressed her “young” as well.

The daywear is where the costumes start to really fall apart. There are a lot of looks here worn in the day that are VERY not day/outerwear appropriate, especially on Emma, most especially the yellow dress she’s wearing while driving that carriage (which, btw is inappropriate on a whole OTHER level). Can we just talk aboutt he cognative dissonance of bothering to put a bonnet on her when her arms and boobs are just hanging out like that? Like, it would almost have been less egregious to just leave the bonnet where it was.

But then there are a lot of Emma’s day-wear looks that are perfectly suitable and appropriate. What I find ironic about that is that most of the short-sleeved, low-necked “Evening-gowns as day-wear” looks are worn OUTSIDE in the sun and most of the long-sleeved, sun protecting, day-wear appropriate looks are worn INSIDE. She’s also got a profusion of dangling curls in day-time settings that are also more evening-wear appropriate (to match the dresses, perhaps?)

I’m also pleased to report that even in day-wear Miss Bates gets a break from brown in this version. Her clothes are nice, but not fancy like Miranda Hart’s in Emma. 2020, and I like to think that nice thick shawl with lace overlay is the one mentioned in the book that Jane’s friend Mrs. Dixon sent along home with her for her aunt.

My only problem with Mrs. Elton’s kit is that it’s all perfectly nice, but none of it is overly-nice. There’s no extra trim, no unnecessary lace, not even any bold colors. I hope Myers and McGrath didn’t take Mrs. Elton’s line in the book about her fear of being over-trimmed seriously.

Let’s talk outerwear. There’s a lot of going into town with JUST a shawl on in this movie (usually over short sleeves), and I’m sorry but I don’t think that’s how outer-wear worked in this time period. A shawl is good enough when you’re taking a turn in the garden but not for going out in public into town, unless maybe you’re wearing long sleeves, or perhaps paired with a SPENCER.

Never mind Mrs. Elton’s line about a shocking lack of satin at the end of the movie, I’m more concerned about the shocking lack of spencers. There are precisely three in this film. I counted (and the sleeves on Emma’s look like maybe they’re too long for her?) Mrs. Elton sports the only redingote in the film.

Jane Fairfax is, as always, in her classic Jane Fairfax Blue™,

although she has some nice white gowns at some points too.

Now, onto

Definitely a bit more colorful than the 97 adaptation. Mr. Knightley benefits most from the addition of colors other than green. He’s even got some smashing waistcoats and a very nice blue evening coat (I couldn’t get very good shots of them though). The problem is; those trousers? NOT. TIGHT. ENOUGH.

Also… you all see it, right? I circled it in red so you should. Yeah. Knightley is dancing in boots. WTF RUTH? Please! You’re better than this! Who dances in Prussians like that? I ask you! (Frank also wears boots to the Cole’s dinner party so that’s two strikes.)

I’m not sold on Frank’s looks. His day-wear is a bit sedate for such a confirmed dandy (I believe he’s called a “coxcombe” in the book?) and his evening wear… well he apparently only has the one look.

And speaking of Frank’s look in this film, I’d like to know at whose doorstep I should lay the blame for what Ewan McGregor himself has called “The Worst Wig Ever”; and why the hair designer in charge decided to model Frank’s aesthetic on a theme of “Chucky meets the Mad Hatter”.

This hairstyle not only looks dreadful, it’s not at all fashionable or authentic to this time period! Fashionable mens’ hair styles at this point were all relatively short. A Beau Brummel coiffeur, or a short Roman style, or a fashionable head of curls like Mr. Elton’s! Not this farmer chic. Robert Martin’s hair is more fashionable than Frank’s!

The tune they chose for Emma and Knightley’s dance is a baroque melody (so a hundred or so years out of fashion) called “Mr. Beveridge’s Maggot” and as is pointed out in the video linked above, and is the same tune and dance used for Lizzie and Darcy’s big dance in Pride and Prejudice (1995).

I get why it was used in P&P because, slow, stately baroque tunes are often used as on-screen short hand for snobbish character like Mr. Darcy. It’s not super intense either, like the baroque tune used in P&P 05, which was chosen for more romantic effect. So why use this kind of “stuck up” tune for what should be a romantic dance? Maybe because it was used in the 95 P&P which became, almost instantly, one of the most popular Austen adaptations?

Quick note on the dancing and music in this movie. I’m not an expert on English Country dance (I’ll outsource that by giving you the usual link to Tea with Cassiane’s analysis on YouTube) but I’ll add my two cents - I know Cassiane gave this a pretty favorable three full dance slippers but I think the way all of the actors and dancers move looks very poorly rehearsed and kind of sloppy. I think everyone just spread out way too much.

Douglas McGrath’s Script

I have to say one of the things this film did very well and brought to the forefront is how insular Emma’s life is. The opening credit sequence brings this to our attention right away by showing a spinning globe which, once it slows down is shown to be, literally, Emma’s whole tiny world. Hartfield, Donwell, Randalls and Highbury. That’s it. It’s perhaps not a very subtle device, but it does get the job done and very succinctly too.

I would now like to talk about my issues with the script of this movie; I have some problems with it. Very different problems than it’s 1996 counterpart though.

First let’s go over the comedic device that jumped out to me most in this movie: the awkward pause.

I think it’s only used twice but they both bothered me.

First there’s the pauses while Emma and Mrs. Weston grill Knightley on whether he considers Jane Fairfax romantically. It’s all written as very “OoOoOooo” with Knightley answering their interrogations and then sitting between them awkwardly as they stare him down as, none of his answers giving either Emma or Mrs. Weston satisfaction. This is one of the most teen rom-com moments of the film to me.

Next there’s all the quiet stretches while Emma and Mrs. Elton have tea at Hartfield. I don’t like the use of awkward pauses in this case because (as I mentioned in Mrs. Elton’s characterization section) it’s so ludicrous to me that there are pauses in this conversation at all. Surely the point of Mrs. Elton is that she loves to hear herself talk and her conceited obsession with the idea that everyone around her must only benefit from hearing her opinions. There should be no conceivable reason why Emma should have to prompt conversation like she does in McGrath’s version of this scene, except to derail Mrs. Elton’s constant self-important yammering.

Watching it this time around I found myself wondering exactly what McGrath wanted to do with this film. I mean I’ve been attempting to decipher exactly whether the changes made were conscious and based on artistic vision, or whether they were changed because the source material just flew over McGrath’s Hollywood Director head.

I mean he gets the important plot points across, but there were other scenes that I had issues with: namely, the Archery scene. This is a pretty intense part of the book because Mr. Knightly goes from astonished, to indignant, to truly vexed with Emma in a short period of time. But this scene in the movie is very casual. The part where Emma’s arrow goes wide and into the general direction of Knightley’s dogs, and he takes an opportunity to make a quip and says “try not to kill my dogs” particularly annoyed me. My issue is that this totally ruins the tension of the scene; and why are Knightley’s dogs sitting BEHIND THE TARGETS ANYWAY? Knightley is a sensible man, and one who knows better than to let his dogs rest in a place where stray arrows could hit them!

The dialouge is very jarring because it flips back and forth beetween being alright, and period appropriate and then it will just spring a very modern turn of phrase and pull you completely out of the setting. I know this is something that’s been brought up with the 2009 version as well but maybe it’s because the actors in that version have (in my opinion) better chemistry that it simply doesn't stick out to me as much.

The comedy in general in this movie just makes me cringe a lot of the time (Sophie Thompson’s “oh sorry, napkin” bit notwithstanding). Like the soup thing when Emma and Harriet meet Mr. Elton after visiting the poor, and the random kid that gets tossed into this scene with Emma… just doesn’t work for me.

Wikipedia describes McGrath’s tweaks on Emma and Knightley’s banter (which really weren’t changed that much, textually) as “Enlivened” to make the basis of their attraction more apparent, which… I’m sorry but nothing about the exisiting banter isn’t lively if delivered in a lively manner. And I wouldn’t exactly call Gywneth’s performance lively, because she has to concentrate to keep that accent up.

I mentioned already that what McGrath essentially did with Emma was take Austen’s story, and remove the nuance (Such as lightening Frank’s infractions in his relationship with Jane and, while not totally contradicting, but also not highlighting the economic commentary of the story that is thematic in Austen’s novel) in order to make a straight up 90’s comedic romance film (Which, if you doubt this, look no further than Rachel Portman’s Oscar Winning but very dated score).

My Question is why? Why bother when the SAME STORY had been adapted into a HIGHLY SUCCESSFUL, modernized rom-com THE PREVIOUS YEAR, which actually, even while being set in the 90’s, did the story greater justice, with far more insight and quality?

Emma (1996) was always going to be over-shadowed by Clueless. At the end of the day this whole movie was kind of a futile effort because despite excellent production quality, the actual contents are watered down and, in my own opinion, pretty roundly mediocre.

Final Thoughts

When I first watched both of these versions I came at it from a very one-or-the-other perspective. I forgave McGrath’s film because it was light and colorful and I’d heard Davies’ version praised so highly at that time as the only faithful, definitive version (only to be let down by it in almost every possible way). But coming right down to it now, it’s hard for me to really excuse McGrath’s effort because a version of Emma that doesn’t take itself seriously enough is almost as bad as a version that takes itself too seriously.

It never fails to jump out at me how diametrically opposed these interpretations are, from the characterization right down to the tone and lighting.

McGrath’s Emma is light in every sense of the word, where Davies’ is dark and ponderous. McGrath’s Knightley is laid back where Davies’ is aggressive and ferocious. Frank, in McGrath’s version, is let off easy by the narrative playing down his moodiness, while in Davies there’s an overshadowing dark-cloud of off-putting caddishness.

Ribbon Rating: Tolerable (58 Ribbons)

The more I watch the 1996 adaptations of Emma (invariably back-to-back) the more firmly I am convinced that Andrew Davies’ made for TV film was (in some ways) a direct response to McGrath’s motion picture.

Tone: 7

Casting: 7

Acting: 5

Scripting: 5

Pacing: 4

Cinematography: 4

Setting: 5

Costumes: 6

Music: 5

Book Accuracy: 6

#jane austen #jane austen emma #regency #period drama #costume drama #classic literature #emma 1996

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beyoncesdragon · 4 years

Text

Sisyphean

→Pairing: Harry Styles x gender neutral reader (as far as I know? Like tell if otherwise...)

→Summary: Sisyphean. Used to describe a task that can never be completed. a damn make up look for example.

→Warnings: swearing, but else no, this is crack™️

→Wordcount: around 1.2k?

a/n: Happy whatever you want to celebrate today. If its Halloween, go for it. Ariana’s new album? Ateez’ tbcn performance? Harry’s golden mv? 2020 being over in 2 Months from tomorrow? Me being able to write a fic in one go? Go for it.

Masterlist 🦋

“How in the bleeding fuck do they do that?!” I called out, angrily staring at my laptop. The lady on screen continued to effortlessly apply dark eyeshadow on her cheekbones, unbothered by my sudden outburst.

I pressed pause and was about to get up for another mug of tea (and a treat, I deserved it) when someone came sprinted into the living room.

“Everything okay? I heard you swear like you just got a positive pregnancy test…” I looked up with a frown. “If I had a positive pregnancy test, I wouldn’t swear like that. However, does that mean, you expect me to swear like this in case I had one? And if we analyse that, does it mean you don’t want kids because you projected your own reaction onto me in that situation, and your reaction was this?” Harry stared at me for a moment without blinking.

“And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why you should never date a psychology major.” Despite my bad mood, I had to grin.

“Sorry.” And then I pressed play again. “What are you watching?” Harry asked, sitting down next to me. His eyes trailed over the many opened make up palettes and brushes, sponges and make-up wipes. There was a little pile of them, stained black and red and dark green, because I had decided that I disliked the look when I was already half through. Consistency and patience were not one of my biggest strengths.

“I’m attempting to do this…” I pointed at the YouTube video and the woman doing her thing, before sighing deeply, “but to be honest, she lost me at applying primer because I don’t…I don’t even know if I ever even owned one.” Harry hummed and leaned closer to the screen. “I didn’t even know you were into Halloween like that.” I shrugged. “I am not. I just like doing make up. Besides, it’s not like we would go anywhere anyways. We’re in midst of a pandemic after all.” Harry nodded, carefully lifting one of my brushes in the air. “Alright. And why are you on the floor and not in the bathroom or at least at a table?” I shrugged, trying to darken the corners of my eyes like the woman. “I don’t know…we have a comfortable carpet. Ah, can you pass me that fluffy brush please…hey what the heck? Why is she done all of a sudden? She skipped the eyeliner part and the…why would she do that, I am not even done with my left eye!” Harry started to laugh loudly and that laughter only grew when the creator announced that she “did the eye liner off camera because if you followed me for some time now, you know how I do it anyways!”

“Oh she did not.” I breathed in anger, clicking away from the video consumed in self-pity and anger. I wasn’t following her and this was my first video of hers so I was appalled greatly. I scrolled through my feed, trying to find a similar look so I could at least modify the mess I had already made on my face a bit. So far, there was nothing and I felt like throwing my lap top away. “Why is this happening! I was doing so well, I don’t want to waste more make up.” I whined dramatically, flopping against Harry before placing my head in his lap, sulking in my make-up misery. Harry poked my cheek softly.

“You could improvise.” I snapped up. “I can’t even come up with an original look Harry, what do you mean.” He shrugged. “Okay, I could improvise for you.” now that was an offer.

“I could do your make up and then we cook something. And watch that Ateez performance you yelled to me about for the last two days. But you stop sulking. Deal?”

Moments like this was when I questioned if I really was living or if I was stuck in a schmaltzy rom-com or just simply daydreaming.

“For real?” he nodded, a small dimply smile appearing on his handsome face. “Yes, for real. I’m feeling generous today, you know.” I hummed, feeling as if my heart grow impossibly big with all the love I felt for him.

“How comes?” he laughed softly. “Well, first of all, I am a generous human being,” I slapped his arm softly, “Generous maybe, humble rather not.” He grinned, sending me a wink. “I never said humble. However, secondly, because I am an amazing and supportive boyfriend…” I could only nod to that; no lie detected, “and thirdly because I had a good laugh at how you dragged this one twitter user to filth this morning.”

Ah well that.

“Yeah I had to. The comment was so impossibly stupid I had to reply. What fucking dumbo calls wearing lace gloves the beginning of the end of real men? Like yeah, we get it, you’re reeking of toxic masculinity, no need to be so loud about it.” Harry grinned proudly. “I mean, I’m all in for kindness but “If “real men” describes people like you, please everyone wear lace gloves, quick. I wish you and your fragile ego a good time.” Is a pretty solid answer.” Harry hummed amused and I laughed. “I also tweeted a link to affordable gloves, did you see that? Also, he basically gave your video a free shout out because now all his dumb friends go watch it too and feel attacked. Bet he was one of those men who threw a massive mantrum when Wonder Woman came out. I bet.” I sat up from his lap and stretched my body.

“I think you would win this bet, babe. I did see your second tweet, by the way. And I retweeted it too, right before I heard your cursing.” He nodded towards the make-up products scattered across the carpet.

“Which would be a perfect transition back to the issue. Before I completely ruin all you’ve accomplished so far, any specific wishes?” I laughed shaking my head. “I just ask for you to not poke one of my eyes out or something. The look doesn’t have to become too graphic, neither does it have to be permanent.” He grinned smugly.

“If you would wholeheartedly love Halloween you would sacrifice one eye at least. It’s just an eye.” Surely an interesting take, yet I had not met anyone that was so invested in Halloween that they would go the extra mile and willingly remove an eye for authenticity.

“I said before that I am not, so you don’t even have to worry about that.” Harry pouted in fake disappointment before leaning forward clicking on a video.

“Just for inspiration…” he mumbled when he caught my questioning eyes. “Alright. Close you eyes…alright so black in this corner…” a few minutes passed quietly, only filled with the instructions of the make-up artist in the video and Harry’s whisper, since he repeated everything under his breath.

Suddenly it was quiet for a second, Harry’s muttering and brush stokes stopped. I opened my eyes, seeing him stare blankly at the screen before taking a deep breath.

“Alright, but how in the bleeding fuck does he do that?”

— ✩ thank u for reading ✩ —

#wow it's been a while #Harry Styles #also stream golden #harry edward styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #harry styles x you #fanfiction #happy halloween #reader insert #gender n #gender neutral imagine #Harry Styles x gender neutral reader #My writing #harry styles fic

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otterskin · 4 years

Text

A Rebuttal to a ScreenRant thing on Loki and the Thor films for no reason other than the catharsis similar to shooting at clay pigeons that aren’t even trying to fly

Don’t click on this but here’s the article - https://screenrant.com/mcu-things-make-no-sense-about-loki/

Ah, ScreenRant, my old foe...you hath fallen so far these past few years...time was you were almost legitimate, but once you were sold to new owners, you became a rag of thoughtless clickbait 'journalism', seeing plotholes where there none. Let's dance.

ScreenRant Text: (So you don't have to feed them clicks)

Loki is often considered one of the greatest superhero movie villains of all time due to his never-ending schemes and tricks. As Thor's adopted brother, Loki has always been jealous of the God Of Thunder. His animosity mostly stems from the inheritance of the Asgardian throne.

Loki was denied the throne because he is the biological son of the Frost Giant ruler Laufey. After being abandoned by his father, he was adopted by Thor's father Odin and raised as an Asgardian prince. While Loki's never-ending deviousness makes for great entertainment, there are a couple of things about him that make no sense.

We begin with a Bonus Round! Loki is considered one of the greatest superhero movie villains of all time for various reasons, but the 'never-ending schemes and tricks' thing is a little...lackluster. It's not exactly what I'd say made himso successful, nor is it particularly true, but this is a matter of opinion. I'll let it slide. This, however:

His animosity mostly stems from the inheritance of the Asgardian throne.

Untrue. Thor 1 even has him state explicitly that the throne was never an objective of his, which is something I liked very much about the character and that film. It didn't go for the boring, stereotypical, low-hanging fruit, but actually tried to give the character a bit of humanity and zigged when most characters of that ilk zagged. That's the actual reason people like Loki, IMO. He surprised people by being - gasp - interesting. His animosity comes from a variety of things, but to simplify, if I may get schmaltzy, it comes from his fear of rejection and abandonment, and of being seen as less-than.

Loki was denied the throne because he is the biological son of the Frost Giant ruler Laufey.

We are never told why he was 'denied the throne'. We can guess. We assume this is the case, but it also seems like a) as the elder son, Thor was always first to inherit and b) When Odin promised that both his sons would be kings, it seems likely that at one point he intended to install Loki as king of Jotunheim, but then changed his mind. However c) it's mentioned clearly in an older scene in the script that Odin and Frigga had hoped that while Thor was officially king, that Loki would essentially be sharing many of his duties and would wield substantial power.

I won't say this is 'wrong'. Loki, after all, claims it as the reason Odin didn't choose him as his successor. He may have been right. But we don't know that. Ambiguity is part of what makes films interesting, but apparently nerd media can never have a 'maybe' for an answer, sigh. This is a bigger problem than ScreenRant, so I'll let it go.

After being abandoned by his father, he was adopted by Thor's father Odin and raised as an Asgardian prince.

...this is what Odin said, immediately after Laufey tells us that Odin is a 'liar and a thief'....and then is proven right. Again, it's possible this is true, but we're also given reason to doubt Odin, and it's also possible Odin thinks he's telling the truth but is...wrong! Which he is about many things. It's something that makes him an interesting character. Ambiguity and interpretation. It's what makes you think about something long after the movie stops playing.

While I'm already disagreeing with SR here, this is more a fandom-wide problem of taking the text at face value only and reading the most shallow interpretation possible. However, stating that Loki's animosity comes from wanting the throne is in contradiction to what we've seen in the films, or at least a gross oversimplification. I award myself a half-point for that.

Points: 0 SR, 0.5 Otterskin

10. Unrealistic Survival

During the final moments of Thor: The Dark World, Loki became impaled and passed away in the strong arms of loving brother Thor. Dead? Not really. He was back in Thor: Ragnarok. Apparently, that was just one of Loki's holograms and the villain himself was very much okay.

However, recent history in the MCU proves that he holograms cannot be touched. In Thor: Ragnarok, Thor even failed in his attempt to throw a rock at Loki’s hologram. But in the death scene, Thor just happens to be holding him comfortably. And given that rocks go right through a hologram, then any other hologram shouldn't have been stabbed either.

EHHH wrong. Yes, Loki's 'light' magic can't be touched when there's nothing else there. But, as we see also in Thor Ragnarok, it can be touched if Loki is inside it - say, when he's pretending to be Odin. Thor grabs his shoulders and holds him in place after throwing Mjolnir. Great moment. As for that wound....who says Loki wasn't actually injured? After all, the scene was filmed 'for realsies' at the time and a reshoot retconned Loki into surviving later...but that doesn't mean he faked the whole thing. It's also possible that Loki just plain survived, due to some unknown Frost Giant ability that perhaps he didn't even know he had. We've never gotten a clear answer. And yes, keeping up the pretense of his death is still 'faking his death', even if he was really fatally injured. So no contradictions there.

SR - 0, OS - 1.5

9.Poor Attempt At Trying To Kill Thanos

Before he was made to look incompetent by Thanos, Loki was a very intelligent villain. Catching and defeating him wasn't easy, and this was all thanks to his ability to create illusions at will. He used this trick very many times and it always worked.

But when Loki is trying to kill Thanos in Infinity War, the only trick up his sleeve is pretending to pledge loyalty to the Mad Titan with secret intentions of stabbing him with a blade. Of course, Thanos stopped him and killed him. Why didn't Loki use a smarter trick? More importantly, why didn't he use his tried and tested illusion trick?

Hmm. Plenty of people have complained about this, but I never had a problem. For me, the answer is simple: what kind of intelligent is Loki? He's not a mastermind. He's not particularly gifted at tactics. What he's good at is misdirection and manipulation. And, when he does it, it usually has some kind of terrible personal effect. When I saw this scene, I had no problems with it from a character standpoint. Loki is a character who thinks with his emotions and does things based on that, even if they aren't logical. It's his fatal flaw going back to Thor 1 and present in every appearance since. In this case, I think Loki was manipulating Thanos. Manipulating him to kill Loki. Probably because Loki knew that would mean he'd spare Thor. However, this is my interpretation, and you're allowed a different one, SR. We'll just disagree on this one. I leave it to the commenters to decide who gets this point. For now, I'll give us both a 0.5.

SR - 0.5, OS - 2

8His Evolution Into A God

According to the MCU, Loki's parents are the Frost Giants Farbauti and Laufey. Despite his parents not being gods, Loki evolves into the “God of Mischief.” How is this possible, given that he was only adopted by Asgardian parents who were gods, but he himself had no god lineage?

RELATED: 10 Loki Memes Only Real Fans Will Understand

For Thor, his god status is understandable given that his biological father and grandfather are gods. So, can one become a god even when they aren't directly related to any god?

...I don't even know where to start with this. First off, we do not know who Loki's mother is. In fact I don't think it's even in the comics. If you mean the myths, then Laufey is his Mother, not his father, and in many myths Laufey is in fact Às (Asgardian), while Farbauti is his giant Father. He would also have two younger brothers. This is not the case in the MCU. There's some evidence that Loki's mother, whoever she is, is not a jotunn - he has biological features the giants do not, and Sir Kenneth Branagh indicated in the commentary for the movie that he was 'at least part giant', which could mean 'only part'. Eh.

Next...have you not been paying attention? This whole character arc is about Loki finding out he's not 'a god' due to his blood and trying to figure out who he is without that blood. At the end, he embraces his identity and decides for himself to be 'God of Mischief' and 'Odinson' regardless of his bloodstatus, while also, if not exactly coming to terms with his heritage, no longer hiding or rejecting it. Yes, it's about him 'becoming a god' and always having been a god, reaffirming his identity and recontextualizing it. It's his whole...THING. And in fact, it’s the main thesis of Infinity War. It’s the challenge to Thanos, which he then accepts. Infinity War is Thanos’ ‘God Quest’, in which he endeavours to gain the powers of a deity. However, what being a ‘God’ meant to Loki is being ‘an accepted part of a family’. Thanos destroys his children in his quest to become a god. It’s an interesting contrast between the two ‘villains’.

Geezus, this is just being dense. And for the record, many Norse Gods and Goddesses are also giants, full-blooded and otherwise. Skadi, Goddess of Skiing, is my favourite goddess ever and she’s full giant. Her husband has very handsome and large feet, which is her preferred feature on a man. You know. To walk on snow with.

Two points to me for dealing with this nonsense. And a half a point for Skadi, she always gets you a half point.

SR - 0.5 OS - 4.5

7.Blue Hue

As the son of a Frost Giant, Loki was born with a blue skin tone. When Odin adopted him, he cast a spell that changed his tone from blue to white. However, Loki never seems to have an idea about his true skin color. Given his history of mischief, he has never attempted to change back either.

After, Odin’s spell to keep Hela far from Asgard ended in Thor: Ragnarok, his spell on Loki ought to have ended too. Or perhaps Loki has always been aware that he is blue. If so, then the confusion ought to be cleared up.

You know what? Point to SR for knowing Odin cast a spell on Loki and that Loki is blue (dabadeedabadie). We gotta throw them a bone, and that’s something other people forget or get wrong all the time.

As for the spell not breaking...Dr. Strange said it himself. A dead wizard’s spell is harder to remove. A spell falling apart in the event of the wizard’s death seems like a major design flaw. Can you imagine if other things worked like that? If a test was too hard, you could pass if you killed the teacher? Or if you locked yourself out of your house, all you had to do was track down the locksmith and murder him to destroy every lock he ever made?

I find it highly unlikely Odin would have been foolish enough to create a spell that would have failed upon his death. Hela was being actively contained, and even then she didn’t immediately appear upon Odin’s death. It still took her a minute to break free.

SR - 1.5 OS - 5.5

6Mind-Controlling Hawkeye Instead Of Fury

Loki found himself in the S.H.I.E.L.D. base after using the Tesseract’s portal to transport himself. One of his first tasks involves mind-controlling Hawkeye so that he can use him as security.

He also mind-controls Dr. Selvig to make him create the Chitauri portal.But it's strange that he doesn't mind-control the boss ,Nick Fury. If he had done that, everything he wanted would have been achieved more easily. Fury would have been his puppet and he could have used him to make the Avengers make regrettable decisions.

Honestly if he’d just walked into the UN it would have been easy-peasy, we can go down this rabbit hole until we end up in Oz. But hey, we’ll give this one to SR, as one of those typical ‘CinemaSins’ things that Alfred Hitchcock would reply ‘because then there’d be no movie’ to.

I would add that this is more Thanos’ plan than Loki’s, though, so we don’t know if that was ever an option the purple man would’ve allowed.

SR - 2.5, OS - 5.5

5Thanos Was Too Lenient Towards Him

Long before they became enemies, Loki and Thanos were associated. One of the instructions that Thanos gave Loki was to get the Tesseract as soon as possible, or else. Yes, there were stipulations from Thanos outlined to Loki by The Other. Loki was promised a kind of pain he'd never known before.

RELATED: 10 Best Recurring Jokes In The MCU

However, Loki wasn't able to deliver the Tesseract for more than six years, and nothing really happened to him. Given how ruthless the Mad Titan is, it's a mystery why he was so lenient towards Loki.

...interesting that being promised untold pain is related to recurring jokes, ha ha...not sure what that’s about.

I dunno, Loki got the most brutal and graphic death in the film, seems pretty un-lenient to me. Not to mention half the people he’d just saved were all slaughtered in front of him, making him responsible for Asgard’s second destruction.

As for why not sooner, Loki was living under an assumed identity for those 6 years as his own father, his death widly publicized as a popular play. I imagine Thanos caught a matinee or something. Let’s just call this a draw.

SR - 2.5, OS - 5.5

4Stopping Agent Coulson

During

Loki's invasion of Earth

Avengers

, he trapped Thor in a cage, and while he was talking to his brother, Agent Coulson tried to stage a surprise attack. Not so fast Coulson. It appears the God Of Mischief is also the God Of Anticipating. Coulson ended up shooting a hologram instead of the real Loki.But how exactly was Loki able to anticipate Coulson's arrival? Can he see the near future? If such is the case, why didn't he see the attack from Hulk coming? Why didn't he use a hologram during the beatdown that left him in a pretty bad state either?

These are getting weaker, not stronger, as we get to number one. Didn’t expect people to still be reading, huh? Guess I’m the real loser, wasting more time on replying to this than was spent writing it. Oh well.

Chances are Loki turned himself invisible and left a copy in his place before walking behind Coulson. Which he’s done before. Illusions and mind-tricks are his main power.

SR - 2.5, OS - 6.5

3Hatred For Thor

Thor has always cared about Loki, but Loki has always wanted to end his brother. During the events of Thor: Ragnarok, a flashback scene showed Thor and Loki during their childhood days. Apparently, Loki did plenty of bad things to Thor.He once transformed Thor into a frog, while he also transformed himself into a snake to fool Thor into picking him up. Thor loved snakes, so when he tried to pick the reptile, Loki transformed back to himself and stabbed Thor. Why was there so much hatred? According to the first movie, Loki used to love Thor. He only started hating his brother when he found out that Thor was going to be the Asgardian king.

Always wanted to end his brother? Where is that coming from? Because he stabbed him as a kid in Thor’s anecdote in Thor 3? These are Asgardian kids, I expect there to be five stabbings before lunchtime. Kids are practically given daggers as teething toys.

I’m guessing this writer has never been or met a pair of siblings. Why is there so much hatred? Gee, I dunno, maybe because ‘Thor won’t stop hogging the X-Box and it’s my turn, Mum, it is!’ I mean, brothers and sisters do terrible things to each other. They make each other eat dirt and bugs, push each other off the deck, cheat at chess, spit in their hair, hide frogs in their bed, you name it. Now upgrade that to the level of the gods and you got some real fun shenanigans, and several more centuries of time in your childhood to get up to even more mischief.

You can still love someone and turn them into a frog.

SR - 2.5, OS - 7.5

2Takeover Plan

Still, in the first film, Loki began scheming after finding out that he was adopted and he'd never become king. The God of Mischief assisted the Frost Giants in gaining entry to Asgard so that he could destroy the Frost Giant King Laufey before he could kill Odin.RELATED:

10 MCU Moments We Need To See In Disneyland’s New Marvel Land

Sounds good, but then Thor tried to feud with the Frost Giants too, and this didn't turn out so well for him. In fact, Thor was banished and dispatched to Earth because of this. It is thus strange that Loki thought Odin would like him for doing what Thor had done. Loki also waited for Odin to sleep first before trying to destroy Laufey. Wouldn't it have been better for him to try and do this while Odin was awake?

The order of events is all wrong. Loki did not discover his heritage until they went to Jotunheim, and didn’t hear the whole story until the Vault, at about the halfway point of the film. Yes, the film opens with him secretly helping the giants into Asgard to disrupt Thor’s coronation. He intended to goad Thor into going to the Bifrost to attack Jotunheim, and, as he says later to the W3 and Sif while their wounds are being treated, he hoped they’d be stopped there by Heimdall. However, Heimdall was more prideful than he’d accounted for, and that’s when they went to Jotunheim, which wasn’t the plan. Everything after that point is Loki improvising and reacting - it’s not so much a scheme as a scream, if you know what I mean.

Loki was unexpectedly made interim King while Odin was asleep and Thor banished. That’s a condition depending on Odin’s sleep and Thor’s banishment, either of which could end at any time, as Frigga tells him. She also tells him that Odin can see all of Asgard, even while asleep. Laufey reiterates this right before he tries to kill him. Odin also cries in his sleep, indicating he can perceive his children fighting on the bridge later in the film. Loki is putting on an elaborate play to demonstrate his loyalty to Odin and simultaneously sever his connections to Jotunheim, which he sees as a threat to his bond with Odin. He has room for only one father.

Were you on your phone when you were watching this movie? ...It’s okay if you were, but...man, you’re writing about this film, at least get the sequence of events right. It’s not a particularly complicated film.

I feel like I’m getting mean. Lose half a point for meanness, gain two points for two points made.

SR - 2.5, OS - 9

1Not Teaming Up With Hela

Loki and

Odin’s abandoned daughter Hela

had the same goals, but strangely enough, they didn't team up to make everything go smoothly. Given the kind of unity Loki had seen from the Avengers, he'd have been smarter enough to value teamwork more.When Hela arrived to take the throne and get revenge, Loki ought to have been the first person on her side. Her plan was basically a newer, small-scale version of his own plan in Avengers. Given his nature, it could have been more logical for him to team up with her then destroy her.

Same goals? You don’t mention them, though. I’d say their goals are entirely opposite. We see Loki’s rule contrasted with Hela’s quite clearly in Ragnarok. Loki withdrew Asgard from the other Realms (in my opinion, likely because he only has love for Asgard, and his interest in it and its people). He’s not interested in invading or enslaving or plundering (yes, yes, I know, Avengers, but that film was constantly making it clear that Loki wasn’t enacting his plan, but Thanos’, and he was being baby-sat by the Other to make sure he didn’t forget it. The stone was meant for Thanos, and we also know Loki wasn’t at his best self mentally at that time. He looked like he’d been chewing on coal and his skin had all the healthy pallour of a plastic bag. Compare that to Ragnarok, where he’s much more at ease and less...’my whole world has crashed down upon me’). Loki is like a cat in a sunbeam, happy to soak up praise, adulation, and acceptance from Asgard. Hela also wants those things - she’s upset when people don’t bow to her, that no-one remembers her, and that her cool paintings are gone. However, her solution to this is to kill everyone until she’s left with the people who are loyal to her. Loki’s was to create the play (which is either propaganda or much-needed Loki representation in the media, depending on how you view it), and convince people to like him. Hela demands loyalty, Loki wants love. Very different.

Her goal, of course, is to make Asgard great again, through conquest. Admittedly Loki did do something similar when he tried to flambé Jotunheim in Thor 1, but he did that for personal reasons, while Hela has a policy. Also, Hela wants Thor and Loki dead, and possibly was a large reason why Odin died (likely he was drained from imprisoning her). Loki loves Thor and Odin and does not want them dead; he also does not seem to want to be killed, at least by any hand not his own. There’s also the little problem of him being a frost giant, which Hela would likely not look kindly on (heck, original drafts of that painting depicting Hela conquering show her essentially enslaving the giants and forcing them to help build Asgard.) Hela isn’t looking for an equal partner. Loki wants equality above all else.

So no, no reason to team up.

SR - 2.5, OS - 10/10, a very good girl, here’s an invisible gold star

Aight, that was a great waste of time. But sometimes, you just need to refute every single point of something to feel better.

TL;DR: ScreenRant didn’t watch the movie(s).

#thor meta #screenrant response #waste of my time and yours #but I do feel better now

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c-atm · 4 years

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Dere

Ok..Venom?"

"Marvel Venom..or Guilty Gear Venom?"

Steven looked at Connie quizzically, arching an eyebrow. He pursed his lips self-deliberation.

"Guilty."

"Yandere...Completely. He tried to kill Milia over Zato's dead body."

"Pssh! That's not how it went and you know it."

Connie wagged her finger while clicking her tongue. "Subtext Mister. Subtext...You don't believe it was just because Milia killed him now…"

"Venom didn’t try to kill Milia for Zato when he was alive. Doesn't sound yandere-ish to me, just complete and utter loyalty to Zato”

“Uh-huh, live in your denial Bisky...We all know the truth. All you need to do is play his story mode and read the ‘Night of Knives’ LN.”

It was another peaceful day in era-3. Within Steven’s home, Connie(Heart Berry) and Steven(Mister) were laying face up on his bed, enjoying the lazy sunday afternoon. Hands intertwined as they played a little game, where they named a character from any type of media and decided what type of 'Derek's they were. It was stupid, senseless, humorfilled fun and they enjoyed it so much.

Steven shrugged with a smug smirk. “I don’t agree but, since i’m such a nice guy, I’ll let you have that.”

“In other words you have no retort..” Connie shrugged with a smug chuckle. “But I'll take the W.” She pursed her lips in thought as she tried to come up with a character. “Wizemen.”

“From underneath the overpass?”

“Yuppers.”

Steven kissed his teeth before smirking. “Total tsun, you know this..We agreed on this when we reread the series. Especially with prophet Kyle...He was always one line away from the classic ‘baka’ line.”

Connie wavered her hand as she sucked in a breath. “I concur, but he did threaten lady Aqulia with live embalming more than once. That's more of the yandere side of the die.”

“But Aqulia was a damn psycho to begin with..She’s the yandere. He was just protective.”

“Oh yeah, no doubt. She actually made good on some of her threats.”

“Yeah, she’s completely nutso.”

Connie looked at Steven, his tone of voice was not mocking but almost appreciative. She raised an eyebrow.and hummed suspiciously, catching Steven attention. He arched his left eyebrow, seeing that impish glint in her black eyes.

“What’s up Heart Berry? You look like you’re scheming something.”

“I’m curious Mister,” She let out a playfully accusatory chuckle while poking his cheek. ”Name your top three fictional crushes.”

Steven's eyes widen at the sudden command. “What? Why?”

Connie kissed her teeth and rolled her eyes as she layed on her side. Her hand now teasing his chin whiskers. “Just trying to find something out. Now come on, out with it. What fictional person did you have the hots for?”

Steven narrowed his eyes before pointing at her. “ No judgement?”

“No, painful judgements..I still withhold my right to give opinions.”

Steven rubbed his chin before giving Conie forehead a kiss, making her smile just a bit. “Deal.”

Connie bounced her shoulder up and down waiting anxiously.

Steven shook his head before he listed the first three names to hit his mind.

“Rena Ryuga, Yuno gasai, Anna..”

Connie looked at him wide eyed before falling into gigge. “OH my stars..You have a yandere fetish!”

“You said no judgement!”

[[MORE]]

“I’m not ..PFFT!... I’m not.hahaha.” Connie took a deep breath trying to calm down..before breaking out again in laughter again. ”It’s so off-base Bisky! I can’t see the connect here...I thought you were more of a ‘dere-dere' fan with how schmaltzy you are.”

Steven kissed his teeth before smirking. He lifted his left index finger up and pursed his lips. “Look, I love all ‘dere’ types, ok..I don’t discriminate.”

Connie side-eyed at her Mister retort, Her lips held in tight accusations. “Off the top of that curly dome of yours came three yandere names..One of them being queen yandere herself. So don’t spit any lies about you being indiscrimative, when you obviously have a type.”

Seven chuckled as he shook his head. “No, no, not gonna admit to that.”

“It’s ok..You like crazy female characters, everyone has their types.” She reassured with an impish grin, her hands up in surrender, before placing her hands on top of her head. “But really...Yanderes? Where did this fetish come from?!” Connie laughed, still trying to keep her mirth low.

“Ok. First it’s not a fetish...It’s a preference and not even in my top three.” Steven corrected

“It’s a fetish, Bisky.” Connie retorted with a smirk.

“Second, Have you seen the people I grew up with...The people I was raised by, the women in my family. With the exception of Amethyst and Peridot, each and everyone of them have yandere-like tendencies. I was conditioned.”

Connie snorted at his playful puppy eyed look, tapping him in the chest giving him a jesterly captious look.

“Yeah sure, blame the gems for your type.”

“It’s true!.” Steven offered. “Think about it. Ruby and Sapphire are so crazy about each other, they decided to literally exist as one person to the end of time. Pearl did everything and anything out of love from my mother. Not to mentioned the whole ‘fight a fucking war’ in her name thing."

Connie arched her eyebrow in incredulity. "You believe Garnet is the perfect example of eternal love."

Steven smacked his chest, smirking at his Heart Berry ."And I'm not denying that...I'm saying Ruby and Sapphire would shatter for one another and could be obsessive when it comes to the other...Obsessive to the point of not being able to operate. Do I need to tell you about the baseball game again?"

Connie squinted her eyes and squeezed her lips tight letting out a small growl, before nodding in resignation. "Ok...You got that."

"Thank you...Do I need to explain Pearl?"

Connie let use a dry chuckle holding her hand up ."No need. I will take your word…"

"Again, thank you."

"Though it does bring up a question?"

"Which is?"

Connie sighed hands on her cheek. "Do I have yandere tendencies? Am I also a reason for your yandere fetish?"

She watched as Steven's face went blank and doe-eyed, before he snickered, chuckled and belly laugh. The sight of her Mister happiness made her heart warm and fueled her with pride, as it always did.

She pouted playfully, with her arms crossed. "Hey, it's a legitimate question."

Steven only laughed harder before sitting her across his hips. His hands on her own as he looked up at her. Still snickering, this time at her cute pout.

"I don't think you have yandere tendencies, though some of the things you’ve done are crazy..."

"Hey!"

He laughed as she slapped his stomach with a smile.

"Come on, tell me I'm wrong. Back talking the diamonds, taking on monsters, leaping from Lion to try to stab blue and again to belly flop on my snout just to give me a kiss…Actually now that I think about it.. You've got them. The aspects of yandere that I find attractive.”

Connie grinned in jest crossing her arms across her stomach. "Oh and what are those? the violent outburst, the obsessive behavior. "

“I mean, you are a little firecracker.”

Connie pointed at his smug smirking face, waving her index finger with a small blaze in her eye. “Boy, watch it or i’ll show you how yandere i can really be.”

“Promise?”

A teasing grin enveloped the woman's face. “You’re pushing it.” She shook her head, her nose flared a bit as she exhaled in jovial impatience.” So..Those aspects?”

He arched his eyebrow and he rubbed his chin. "Thoooose aspects."

"Yes! Speak or I'm taking your tongue."

"Then silence works in my favor."

Connie smirked impishly. "You would think so, but you don't know the reward for your compliance. Besides never said it would be with my own."

"Is there any other way?"

"I could always hold it between my thumb and index." She pressed the digits tips together a couple of times in demonstration.

"We both know you'd prefer an oral operation. So, Nehh! Ack!"

Connie watched with mild amusement at Steven's surprised squawk as she snatched and held his tongue with her left thumb and Index.

"Aspects."

"Well, I can't verily tell you with my tongue captive now, can I?" His words were muffled but still comprehensible. He wiggled his tongue after she released it, going through dramatic and exaggerated jaw exercises.

Connie kissed her teeth but couldn't help the smile on her face. "Oh come on! I didn't even hold it for a minute, Steven."

"My tongue is very sensitive, thank you." Steven retorted as he continued his antics.

"Big baby."

"Oh, ouch. My pride."

The two playfully and giggly sneered at each other, before Steven reached up to stroke her cheek.

“You’re sweet, protective, caring, dependable.”

Connie nodded as she slowly snuggled into his palm.“That’s the ‘Dere’ side.”

“Focus, cunning, calculative, dangerous,”

She gave him a playfully ‘dark’ grin. “That’s the ‘Yan’, I suppose, hehe.I”

“Seductive, amorous, bewitching.”

Connie pressed the tip of his nose with her index finger, before trailing it down to his lips, hovering it a millimeter a way. “See now, you’re trying to butter me up.” She gave him a chuckle before kissing his palm and giving him a half-lidded smile. “Continue though.”

Steven chortled at the gentle instruction. “You’re quite unpredictable at times,and quite commanding....Actually, you might be more Kamidere/ Mayadere mix.”

“Ok, You know...I’ll accept the Mayadere classification. That’s fine but, Kamidere? I’m not that brash and you’re just being a punk.” Connie retorted as she flipped his bottom lips a few times.

“EY! Kahanni Maheswaren, ‘Story of the lord of the universe’. Your name is the perfect title for a Kamidere manga. Really couldn’t blame you if you did have a bit of a complex.”

“Kiss your lord finger. Show the proper respect.”

Steven scoffed a laugh at the faux haughtiness of Connie's statement, the waving of her finger above his lips, and her cheshire smirk.

“Such a teasing lord I follow.” With a husky breath he complied thrice, getting a blushing giggle from her.

“Maybe, but I'm also very rewarding towards my most dutiful subjects.”

Steven arched an eyebrow before giving her hand another kiss “Really now, my little Teasedere.”

“Teasedere now, huh? First, I’m a yandere, then a kami/mayadere mix...Now i’m a teasedere.” She leaned down a bit closer. “Are you just listing off your ‘preferences’ now?”

“You wanted to know them and I only said you were a teasedere.”

“You stated I had aspects of the others.”

Steven shrugged. “They’re your sub-categories.”

“Sub-categories, he says!” Connie laughed at his smug jesterly look. “You are on top of your game today. Hitting me with zinger after zinger.” She nodded her head, clapping her hands together. “I respect that, Mister.” She chuckled again before sighing. “Making me sound like I'm a multi-class RPG character or something. Sub-categories..Cute.”

“It is my middle name after all.”

“Your third one right, Cutie-pie? ”

Steven slightly shivered at the seductive tone of his middle name through her lips.

“So.. What about you? Mr. Universe.” She bit her lip as she traced her index on his chest. “Where do you fall in the ‘Dere’ spectrum?”

“Come on. I’m so Conndere with sub in deredere and teasedere.”

“Conndere huh? Aren’t you being extra charming today.”

“Well…” Steven pulled her down a bit closer, a certain smile and glint in his eyes “Just being a dutiful follower.”

Connie teasing ran her thumb upon his bottom lip. “Trying to get a reward, Bisky?’

Steven nodded playfully before giving the thumb a kiss. “I think I deserve it.”

Connie gave him a quick peck before sitting back up. “Don’t you tell anyone I did this.”

Steven watched as she took a deep breath trying to ease the embarrassed blush on her face.

Connie closed her eyes, as she held her face in her hands slightly pushing up against her jaw. Both her pinky fingers and her left ring finger on her cheeks. Her right ring and both her middle fingers standing up. Her index fingers resting against her temples gently. She parted her lips slightly as she opened her eyes looking down giving him a lovestruck and slightly faraway look.

“ It’ll be alright Steven. Connie will protect you. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe.”

Her voice was breathly laced in adoration, inflexibility and a bit of insane obsession. She watched as his face turned red as his breathing became haggard. She smiled gently with eyes still holding the same faraway look as she leaned down to his ear and whispered to him in the same tone.

“Your Heart Berry will always protect her Mister.” She heard him very quickly groan as he breathed through flared nostrils and bit his lip.

“I’ll love you and only you, forever Bisky.”

“TEASEDERE OF A MINX!”

“Uh-oh!”

Connie screamed out a laugh as Steven sat up, rolled over and pinned her under him.

“Was it too muuu-” She was interrupted by him nipping at her collarbone, causing her to sigh and moan through the laughter as her hands.found his upper back and stroke the back Of his curly haired skull; her knees squeezed against his sides keeping him in place.

“Told you...Hhmmh! It was a fetish.”

Her breathless teasing got him to break away from her neck. He rested her head against her and looked at her straight into her eyes before speaking very coolly and with a trace of authority.

“Tease me again.”

The unvocalize challenge was heard as loud as a blow horn.

““Feeeettttii-MMMM~MMM!” Her song of a taunt was cut short as he kissed her heatedly, His tongue twisting with as they held and pressed against each other, making her melt under him.

Needless to say, their game and discussion would be on hold for the time being.

#connie maheswaran #steven universe #connverse #steven and connie #older steven #older connie #steven universe fanfiction #connverse fanfic #flirty fighting #fighting flirty #one-shot #jambudsweek2020 #mister and heart berry #they're in love with each other though. baefriends #they're single but only mess with each other #Pre-character select #weebs discussing weeb things #Connie can be a yander when she wants to.#But they both are Teasedere to the the core

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aion-rsa · 3 years

Text

The 21 Best Christmas Horror Movies

https://ift.tt/3lZGPFt

Technicolor lights are about to illuminate every other home in the neighborhood; carolers are marching through the streets; even that old tree in Rockefeller is shining brightly.

For some folks, that’s enough to make you want to grab an axe. But don’t do that. Watch demented men dressed as Santa Claus or a demon Krampus indulge your Anti-Christmas sentiments with maximum gore. Indeed, this list isn’t about the most charming, heartwarming, or schmaltzy Christmas viewing traditions. Nah, this is about the 20 grossest, nastiest, and all around most fun Christmas horror movies. The kind where the greatest gift you’re going to get on Christmas morning is escaping with your life and maybe some psychological triggers whenever you see jolly men in red suits.

Yep, these are the very best Christmas horror movies. Ho. Freaking. Ho.

Anna and the Apocalypse (2017)

Almost certainly one of the sweetest, most positive, and upbeat Christmas movies on the list is this wonderful feel good musical romance from director John McPhail, which also happens to be a zombie movie. It follows a group of friends in a small Scottish town who are just about to finish school and are making plans for the future when a zombie outbreak lands.

Incredibly catchy tunes which take inspiration from Buffy musical episode Once More With Feeling, mix with inventive festive kills – zombie snowman decapitation is a highlight – in a way that manages not to tonally jar. It’s mostly thanks to the super-likeable performances of the young cast, headed up by Ella Hunt, and the teenage troubles, romances, and heartbreak which form the backdrop of the movie. Paul Kaye also pops up as the school’s tyrannical headmaster – his musical numbers aren’t the best but he brings cartoon villain energy to an unusual but rather adorable Christmas horror that’s way better than you might expect.

– Rosie Fletcher

Better Watch Out (2016)

Home Alone is surely one of the most popular and iconic Christmas movies of all time, though it is not, of course, a horror. However, if it was, it would look something like Better Watch Out, a slick reinvention of the home invasion sub-genre. Olivia DeJonge plays babysitter Ashley, who attempts to protect her charge, 12-year-old Luke (Levi Miller), when they are threatened by intruders in his home. But all is not as it seems.

DeJonge and Miller spar beautifully in a movie which plays with gender and coming of age tropes and includes handfuls of gruesome set pieces, while Ed Oxenbould brings comic relief. This is clever, funny and gruesome stuff from director Chris Peckover which might not become a new Christmas tradition but should definitely be watched at least once.

– Rosie Fletcher

Black Christmas (1974)

Getting stabbed by a unicorn head to the tune of carolers singing “Silent Night” is probably not how you want to spend Christmas Eve. This pre-Scream holiday slasher claims its victims in a sorority house haunted by creepy phone calls (sans ghost mask), demonic noises, bodies eerily shrouded in plastic wrap, and one perverse killer whose voice alone is enough to freeze your blood.

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When an unidentified caller keeps harassing your entire sorority house with obscene things you can only half-understand (because he sounds like a deranged Donald Duck that laughs like the Joker), you should run even if it is 10 degrees outside. The blizzard of murders keeps raging with one victim dragged screaming by a hook, and another bludgeoned to death. Never mind the one suffocated by plastic wrap and left next to the window like the vacant face of a doll staring out into the night. You’ll hardly sleep in heavenly peace after this one.

– Elizabeth Rayne

Christmas Evil (aka You Better Watch Out) (1980)

In his one and only film as writer/director, Lewis Jackson crafted a smart and clever black comedy that’s more character study than straight horror film. John Waters insists it’s a comedy about a closeted transvestite (of a sort), but it’s much more than that—it’s the Taxi Driver of Yuletide shockers. Brandon Maggart plays a man who takes Christmas way too seriously. His home is filled with bright holiday decorations all year-round while Christmas carols are playing on the stereo. Santa is his role model, a symbol of all that is good and just in the world. He even works at a toy factory.

He so identifies with Santa, he takes to spying on the neighbor kids, keeping his own carefully annotated naughty and nice lists. But when he recognizes the level of cynicism and hypocrisy among his co-workers, bosses, and the people around town as the most joyous time of the year approaches, well, he goes a little funny in the head. He reaches for the suit and beard and axe, determined to reward the good and punish the evil.

Maggart has since tried to desperately distance himself from the film, but he gives a remarkable performance here as a completely isolated figure with a head swimming with both joy and rage. In the end, the film remains king of the sub-subgenre. Screw It’s a Wonderful Life and Rudolph. Apart from Blast of Silence and Invasion U.S.A., Christmas Evil is the only holiday film I watch annually.

– Jim Knipfel

A Christmas Horror Story (2015)

Admittedly, a number of horror-based Christmas movie have gone with the anthology angle for their storytelling. Hell, this isn’t even the only anthology film on this list. A Christmas Horror Story may not be on a lot of people’s radar, but it’s a worthy installment that goes to some unusual places purely because both the Christmas and anthology playgrounds have gotten so bloated at this point. This film also benefits from being executed by a cabal of directors who are responsible for directing some of the best horror movies to come out of Canada in passing years, such as Splice, the Black Christmas remake, and the Ginger Snaps trilogy.

A Christmas Horror Story deliciously uses a radio DJ (William Shatner) as the connective tissue that holds together the four stories that comprise the film. Parables on ghost possession, clone doppelgangers, Krampus, and zombie elves all get their due here. The film also has a pretty inspired ending that actually casts the picture in a whole new light. It’s got Santa Claus fighting Krampus. What’s not to like?

– Daniel Kurland

Dead of Night (1945)

Never play hide and go seek in a house where someone was murdered. While it might be best known for Michael Redgrave’s night-terror-inducing ventriloquist dummy scene that sparked the phobia of possessed puppets, Dead of Night also invites you to a Christmas party with a spectral guest. Spacecase Sally’s genuine terror at realizing what she thinks she saw is what she really saw will forever have you second-guessing shadows creeping in the cold.

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What is obvious in this scene—encroaching darkness and shadows looming over what a place you know is haunted without ever having to hear the big reveal—is hardly as chilling as what is not so obvious until the truth silently materializes. The ghost of the little boy plays hide-and-seek with the other children as if warm blood courses through his veins. Unlike many stereotypical see-through phantoms of the era, this one doesn’t have that telltale translucence which would set off a chorus of screams. Being almost disturbingly normal is exactly what makes him so terrifying.

– Elizabeth Rayne

Eyes Wide Shut (1999)

Eyes Wide Shut was the non-denominational star at the top of Stanley Kubrick’s Christmas tree. Originally conceived as a Woody Allen vehicle, it almost starred Steve Martin after Allen insisted on reading the script from right to left. It is as much a cautionary tale as Dickens’ A Christmas Carol, bringing the whole family together with a different Christmas tree in almost every frame.

Kubrick pours on the cheer from the opening sequence at the Christmas party where the first gifts are unwrapped, and oh boy are they unwrapped. Bill Harford, played by Tom Cruise, dives right into the muffled spirit of giving after he performs a more than charitable deed for the party’s host, played by Sydney Pollack.

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Harford spends most of the film looking for the perfect gift like a slow motion version of Jingle All the Way, rushing around from New York City’s famous toy repository FAO Schwartz to downtown specialty shops, to the suburbs, where he can find collectors’ editions. Cruise pays Harford like a wooden windup toy, and not a particularly cute one, either. In spite of all the colorful lights and trips above and below the rainbow, Harford just can’t get into the Christmas spirit. He’s not even moved by the uplifting seasonal tunings of “I Want a Boy for Christmas” by the Del-Vettes. He recovers his seasonal facilities while humming along to the chant during the climactic illuminati sex party, though! The song is actually “Here Comes Santa Claus” sung backwards in Latin, adding more menace to the proceedings than Silas Barnaby brought to Toyland in The March of the Wooden Soldiers.

– Tony Sokol

Gremlins (1984)

Santa doesn’t exist… unless it’s your father in a red suit who met his untimely end trying to slide down the chimney with a sack of presents before getting stuck. Don’t tell that to the innocent bat-like ears of a harmless (for now) Mogwai. It’s exactly the kind of story you expect to hear while hunkering down in the shadows with a flashlight while a bunch of leathery green things with too many teeth ransack the neighborhood.

And as for Santa? That smell coming from the fireplace weeks later was no dead cat. Worst. Christmas story. Ever.

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This movie should be on every hardcore horror fan’s holiday playlist just for the musical monstrosity of those reptilian things decked out in Santa hats and earmuffs singing “Deck the Halls” at the neighbors’ door, sheet music and all. This is continuing proof that animals have a sixth sense, because her yowling cat senses something off about the voices warbling “Joy to the World” outside. She’s right to have an aversion to Christmas carolers.

– Elizabeth Rayne

Holidays (2015)

There have been so many holiday-themed horror films at this point—reaching Christmas and going far, far beyond that—so why not make an anthology film that takes that idea to the extreme? Holidays hits the expected staples such as Christmas, Halloween, and Valentine’s Day, but part of the fun here is how holidays with lesser expectations like Easter or St. Patrick’s Day deliver some truly horrifying content (seriously, the St. Patrick’s Day segment is disturbing, bonkers chaos).

The Christmas segment comes courtesy of Scott Stewart (Legion) and has Seth Green trying to survive the holiday as he attempts to get his son the perfect gift. Stewart’s installment feels very reminiscent of a Black Mirror episode with virtual reality, consumerism, and the dangers of mob mentality all playing their part here.

A lot of these anthology films also try to bank off of the name recognition and notoriety of the assembled directors, but Holidays proudly features a collection of mostly fresh faces (although Kevin Smith and Starry Eye’s Kevin Kolsch contribute segments). It’s fun to discover a bunch of new blossoming talents here.

– Daniel Kurland

Jack Frost (1997)

This ain’t the cringeworthy father/son bonding vehicle starring Michael Keaton. No, this is the Jack Frost where the killer snowman’s nose functions as both a killing tool and a device to sexually assault his victims. All square? But hey, at the least the film isn’t afraid to ride its ridiculous premise as hard as possible.

First of all, an actual killer named Jack Frost crashes into a truck of “genetics material” that causes him to transform into this cold abomination in the first place. That sets the tone pretty nicely for the abundant murders, sex, and plot holes that plague the town of Snowmonton (yup). It’s hard to believe that this film got made, with all of the visuals being some real spectacles that you don’t typically see in the horror genre.