#carol overreacts to movies

[caroloftheshells]

at least roomful of teeth’s indigenous vocal technique consultants are probably making a ton of royalties off the tár teaser right now. that sure was a decision though and one that you’ve got to assume the creators have some ambient knowledge about given the fact that they’re doing a character study on a (fictional) celebrity in present-day newmusic culture who experiences a meteoric rise to fame and subsequent controversy as a gay white woman (with an ethnomusicology degree?? for which her research focused on indigenous peoples according to a review i saw; idk i can’t find any more info on if the movie even says who / indigenous to where specifically but like. hello.)

[princesssarisa]

I'm so happy that on December 11, the complete version of The Muppet Christmas Carol, including the song "When Love is Gone," is going to be added to Disney+.

That song has been missing from the movie for too long! I grew up with it on the original VHS and early DVD releases, and the more recent DVD/Blu-Ray and streaming releases have felt all too incomplete without it. Yes, I know some people consider it a boring song, but that's very much a matter of taste. And I understand why it was cut – its a slow ballad dealing with emotions that little kids can't relate to, and it tests their attention spans. "Over the Rainbow" from The Wizard of Oz and "Part of Your World" from The Little Mermaid were both almost cut for similar reasons. Still, any child older than six should understand "Belle and young Scrooge were in love, but now she's leaving him because he's become greedy, and this is why old Scrooge is all alone in the world." Even if they can't relate to it, they should sympathize. And the idea that it's "too sad for kids" is nonsense – if that's the justification, then the scene of the Cratchits mourning Tiny Tim's death should have been cut too!

Not only is the song beautiful, but without it, the scene of Belle and young Scrooge's breakup loses all its emotional impact. The dialogue that precedes it isn't enough, because it cuts the more emotional lines from the scene in the book. Without the song, Rizzo's crying and Gonzo's sniffling afterwards seem like overreactions. But with the song, it makes perfect sense for the Muppets as well as old Scrooge to be moved to tears.

Besides, Meredith Braun (Belle) is a musical theatre actress, whose vocal chops have let her play such roles as Éponine in Les Misérables, Christine in The Phantom of the Opera, Lily in The Secret Garden, and Maria in The Sound of Music. It's a waste to include her in the movie and not let her sing!

[hereforonce]

You mentioned his reasons for the absense throughout the show. What's your take on it?

» Oh I'd love to shine some more light on that matter! Though a little warning beforehand, since it goes with a quite controversial headcanon when it comes to the general fandom's opinion on certain members within the Scully family that are 'surprisingly' NOT Bill Jr.

The easiest explanation would be that he was busy with his job since both Scully men followed in their father's footsteps. But... and here comes my spin on his own backstory and my personal refusal to accept "he's been estranged" coming from Scully in S10E04 Home Again:

It all started in S3E02 Paper Clip when he was informed about his sister being shot and brought to the hospital. Much like Melissa in One Breath the season before, he was greeted by their mother and kept turns with Maggie on spending time at Missy's bedside since he had - in spite of the age difference - always been the closest to her during childhood. There's underlining tension between mother and son for a few years already due to a fallout between Charlie and Ahab when he moved out, which never got fully resolved and has no place within the hospital room from his perspective since Charlie is open enough to believe that Missy could feel it.

He eventually sends her home to get some actual rest after meeting Skinner, who informs him that he had found Maggie sleeping in a chair when the AD came by to talk about Dana's whereabouts. Tables turn when she gets back to the hospital and sees Charlie being present at the moment where Melissa's condition changes for the worst, as mentioned by Dana in the ending scene. Overwhelmed by the situation, Maggie initially overreacts and blames him for the sudden change. Basically exiles him in the heat of the moment, while Bill Jr tries to ease the waves and ends up bringing their mom home while Charlie stays behind with his own guilt.

The next time we hear from him is through a conversation Scully has with Mulder during their case in S4E02 Home, where she mentions having been babysitting her nephew watching the movie Babe. Since Bill Jr's son isn't born until the following Season, it can only be Charlie's, who in my portrayal of him shares custody of ONE SON ( instead of two sons which were seen and ignored for logical reasons* ) during the funeral scene in S1E13 Beyond the Sea. Which tells me, that he tried staying in touch with his remaining siblings.

Later the same season during a Deleted Scene in S4E14 Memento Mori he uses Bill Jr, to tell their sister he's there if she was feeling up for a phone call since he's well aware that their mother's most likely not leaving Dana's side since finding out about the cancer so he starts avoiding crossing paths with Maggie since the wounds from Missy's hospitalization are still fresh. Another personal reason comes into play for the youngest family member, aside from probably having been busy with work, to not come by in person. Since the memories of Melissa's death are still fresh and the Scully family rarely talks about feelings, Charlie still blames himself for the tragic condition change of his sister that day.

What doesn't change is that he still stays in contact with his siblings, since he gets another mention during S5E06 Christmas Carol. Sending Christmas gifts to his brother's new location in San Diego, apparently being kept informed about the relocation and Dana and mom being over at their place over the holidays by Bill Jr.

» Phew, this got longer than it sounded in my head so thank you if you kept reading up to this point. Congrats dearies!

Final thoughts: Given all that evidence, I personally don't see Charles being the one going estranged from family by himself but rather being forced to by circumstances over the later seasons up to the point that Scully doesn't even know where he is. Especially since it looks like to me, that even then he kept in close range with their older brother since he eventually gets him to call back and reach out to Dana after Maggie asked for him in S10E04 Home Again.

[allthingsfangirl101]

Unsure Help–Steve Harrington

When I walked into work, my heart sank. Someone had altered our sign by moving some of the letters around and spray painting.

All The Right Moves Starring Nancy "The Slut" Wheeler

I wasn't sure what Nancy had done and to whom, but I'd be lying if I said I'd felt bad for her. I've known Nancy since we were little. I was never super close to her, but I saw her for who she really was: a selfish girl who thought she was waiting for movie-perfect life when in reality she was afraid of ending up just like her mom–in a loveless marriage.

"Y/N!"

I jumped when I heard my boss yell my name.

"Yes, sir?" I asked.

"Get signed in and clean that up."

"But sir," I stuttered.

"I don't want to hear it," he cut me off. "It was those stupid teenagers. Makes sense you clean up after your friends."

He nodded his head across the street before walking back inside. I followed his gaze and saw Steve, Tommy, and Carol laughing in the alleyway.

"They're not my friends," I mumbled.

After I put my stuff away and got signed in, I went outside to see a ladder and some cleaning supplies. I pulled my hair back and grabbed the paint remover. I climbed the ladder and started to scrub away.

About twenty minutes and barely any progress later, my shoulders were burning.

"Need any help?"

I looked down to see Steve Harrington looking up at me with his hands nervously shoved in his pockets.

"What are you doing here?" I scoffed.

He ignored my question. Instead he shrugged and stuttered, "I just. . . I wanna help."

"I think you've done enough."

"Y/N," he sighed.

"Go home, Steve," I cut him off and went back to scrubbing.

"No."

I looked down to see he hadn't moved.

"I'm not going home and leaving you to clean up mine and my friends' mess."

"Steve," I stuttered.

"Y/N, please climb down the ladder so I can scrub that paint."

I studied him, hesitating. I sighed before slowly climbing down the ladder. I felt my face burning when Steve gently put his hands on my hips, helping me down the ladder.

I wrapped my arms tightly around myself as Steve climbed up the ladder and started scrubbing the sign. Neither one of us said anything as he cleaned off the paint.

I couldn't understand why he was willing to do this. Carol and Tommy would've knocked the ladder over with me still on top. Why was Steve Harrington helping me?

"Why are you doing this?" I asked before I could stop myself. "I mean. . . Why are you helping me? Aren't you and your band of jerks the ones who did this?"

"Yeah," he sighed.

"Why?"

He glanced down at me and hesitated. "Well," he stuttered as he turned back towards the sign. "Last night, I went to Nancy's window and Johnathan was with her."

"So?" I scoffed. "Sorry," I quickly apologized. "It's just, Johnathan Byers? Really? Over you?"

I looked away before I could see his smirk. "Were they doing anything?" I asked, still not looking at him.

"Well. . . No," he hesitated. "But they were sitting really close together on her bed."

"Don't you think that was an overreaction?" I asked as I gestured towards the paint. "Steve, they were only talking. He might have been comforting her. Did you even ask her what happened?"

"No," he said softly.

"Then let me answer my earlier question," I chuckled. "Yes, that was an overreaction."

"But. . ."

"But nothing," I cut him off. "Admit it, Steve. You overreacted."

He glanced down at me before glancing back at the sign. He sighed as he went back to cleaning. When he finished, he handed me the cleaning supplies and climbed down the ladder.

"How does that look?" He asked me.

"As good as new." I finally got a closer look at his face.

"Johnathan's work?" I asked, nodding towards his injuries. He sent me a sheepish smile as he shrugged.

"I'm guessing you lost?" I laughed. I quickly cleared my throat when he looked up at me. I felt my face slightly burn as he smiled.

"It was a tie," he defended himself with a small chuckle. I looked over when he gasped in pain.

"Come with me," I said.

"What?"

"We have a first aid kit in the breakroom," I explained.

"I still don't understand. . ."

"Wow," I smirked. "Johnathan's got a strong right-hook, huh?"

"Ha-ha," he fake laughed.

"Come on, Harrington," I chuckled. "Let me clean you up."

                                * * * * *

As I cleaned Steve up, neither one of us said anything. Johnathan really did a number on him. I tried to see it from his point of view but I couldn't. Sure, seeing Nancy with Johnathan would cause questions, but he didn't ask those questions.

Then again, Johnathan Byers over Steve Harrington?

"Can I ask you something?" I hesitated as I finished cleaning him up.

"Of course."

"Why'd you fight Johnathan?"

"I told you," he stuttered.

"I guess the real question is whether he fought you for what you did to Nancy or something else."

He looked away and moved some hair out of his face. "Wow," I said under my breath. "You're on a roll today."

"It's complicated," he blurted out the first excuse he could think of. He looked back at me with guilt in his eyes.

"I know you care about Nancy," I sighed, "but maybe. . . Never mind."

"What?" He asked.

"It's nothing," I said quickly.

"Maybe what, Y/N?"

"Really," I stuttered. "It's nothing."

I busied myself with throwing away the used bandages and putting away the first aid kit. I was about to walk out of the breakroom, but Steve grabbed my hand. He turned me toward him, but I didn't look up at him. I couldn't. I was too embarrassed.

"Y/N," he said softly. "Please look at me."

I took a shaky breath as I gathered my courage. I slowly looked up at him to see him smiling at me.

"You really think I'm better than him?"

"Of course," I whispered. "But then again. . ."

I instantly shut my mouth, not wanting to dig myself any deeper than I had already dug myself.

"Then again what?"

"Nothing," I stuttered. "Just forget it."

I started to walk away again, but Steve instantly stopped me. He grabbed my elbow, his hand slowly sliding down my arm until it got to mine. I sucked in a breath and held it as he intertwined our fingers. He turned me toward him and used his free hand to gently grab my chin and lift my head.

"Then again what?" He whispered.

"Then again Nancy isn't good enough for you," I whispered back.

"She's not," he whispered as he reached down and grabbed my hands.

"I should be with someone who would never give Johnathan Byers the time of day," Steve said slowly as he leaned in.

I gasped when he pressed his lips to mine. I instantly started kissing him back. The second I did, the kiss heated up. Our lips roughly moved against each other as we stumbled back until we bumped into the counter. Steve was about to pick me up and put me on the counter, but I stopped him.

Part of me knew we shouldn't do this yet, but I couldn't resist him. We broke the kiss and looked into each other's eyes as we caught our breaths.

"Steve," I whispered. "I should get back to work."

"Or," he elongated, "I can come back to watch that movie that just came out and you could come clean the theater."

"I clean the theater after. . ." I slowly let my sentence drop when the look on his face made me realize what he had meant.

"Oh," I said under my breath. My face burned the longer he looked at me with that expression on his face.

"As tempting as that is," I said, clearing my throat. I looked back up at him, all joking aside as I said, "If we do this, I want to start it off right. Not by cheating on Nancy Wheeler. No matter what she did or didn't do with Johnathan Byers."

"I mean, we're basically broken up," he shrugged. "She's been fooling around with Johnathan–I think– and when I went to her house, they were really close. And on her bed. When I asked her about it, she got all defensive and. . .

"Steve," I cut him off. His smirk dropped.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "You're right. How about this: why don't I go and officially break up with Nancy and then I can pick you up after work and we can go to dinner? What time is your shift over?"

"Not until 7:30."

"How about I pick you up at 8 o'clock?"

"Are you sure?" I stuttered. "That's kinda late for dinner."

"So?" He shrugged. I smiled as he wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me into his chest.

"Pick you up at 8?"

"As long as you don't mind going to dinner with a girl that smells like popcorn."

He leaned in, his lips inches from mine. As he spoke, I could feel his lips gently and randomly touch mine.

"I think it's kinda hot."

[haircoveredwriter]

Some thoughts after watching 11x06 "On the Inside". I'll put it beneath a break because there's more than I thought to my mindless rambling.

Okay so they're going with a straight horror movie intro but skipping the usual 'we're having such a good time out here in the woods...wait, something it out here too'

Both LR and KC do a really good terrified for their lives

Also have to say Virgil really seems to have stepped up since we met him because dude can actually take out walkers now. Good job, sir. Never stop learning.

More of Leah walking around amoungst a group of people and having no real reason to be there or contribute anything to the scene. 🙄

Damn, Hondo! Stop pulling at Frost's nails! I can't rip half mine off at work without feeling like Hershel when Rick chopped his leg. Fingers and toes always make thigs worse.

Chokeholds are illegal, Daryl. Someone needs to have him watch his own earlier seasons.

The conversation beneath the conversation between Daryl and Frost is spot on and super interesting.

Daryl's like 'look...I'm going to have to chop your finger off but it's for a good reason. Gonna save your life and who knows, maybe one of these weirdos has a Govenor closet somewhere and they'll let you take it home with you.'

Plus him taking off the vest was WAY more entralling than it needed to be, but I'm a woman with eyes so don't judge me. 👀😍(Enthralling? yup, that's what we'll go with)

It's a definite sign Daryl's not all team Reapers because he's basically taking off/hiding who he really is to fit in with his crazy ex-girlfriend's new posse.

Though my science schooling is giving how little blood there is from the amputation the side eye. Guess Frost just willed his blood some place else.

Am I crazy or is the music playing while Daryl torutres Frost the same that was playing in 10x07 while Carol tortured the Whisperer? Coincedence??🤔

Evil Monopoly man seems like he enjoys playing games with his people.

If Connie looking in the mirror is not me everyday I wake-up😏

GUYS! There were medical scissors in the medicine cabinet. You know what this means??? Queen Beth is gonna rise from the dead and save Vonnie all while less half a brain. LOL.

whoever belongs to that eye in the hole needs to get checked for jaundice.

Ofc the pencil breaks when Connie TRULY needs it. Fate really has it in for her, screwing her over with one of her most trusted friends.

These Reapers have no idea do they about how to sneak up on a building without being seen. Maybe they need it to be night before their powers activate. Funny Leah is in charge when she's the least believable one there.

Daryl pretending to be a cat hiding behind a plant with that mailbox...no one can see you my friend. You're good.

Carver and Leah remind me of the evil version of Caryl and Daryl.

They obviously have something going on and/or had a thing in Daryl's abscence. All those "Always" remarks sound an awful lot like The Princess Bride's "As you wish".

Yup, Carver is uber jealous of Daryl. Leaver is setting sail ya'll.🚢

Carol strolling in to find Kelly stuck in the mud with her casual "need some help" is perfection. I actually lol'd.

AT is also SUCH and underrated and underutilized actress on this show, I need more Kelly on my screen because she needs to be protected like the sweet cinnamon role she is.

WTH is with this episode, they really out here trying to start a bunch of new ships or something? I'm down for Vonnie.

He's so into you, Connie. Who else is gonna keep talking to you knowing you can't hear them but needing to vocalize how much more important they see you to themselves.

Oh, come on...he's said her name in this ep more times than anyone has in the last season. He's trying to rival Daryl for saying Carol's name in s10.

So in case you're keeping track...we now have Vonnie and Leaver riding the crazy shipping seas.📃

Great... more posturing about who cares about Leah more.🤮 Carver you aren't getting it; Daryl's been phoning it in since Day 1, he's not a threat just wait it out and he'll audios up out of here to go find his fire queen back home.

Leah's even telling Daryl "stop pissing of my secret boyfriend okay?"

Note to everyone: a dancing phone line is the sign to run to the basement and not a sign of an overeager squirrel running across the line for his acorns.

So the jaundice family watched The Ring too many times and think this is how all the cool kids act in horror flicks. All they keep saying is 'hungry'; Connie, Virgil, someone get them a Mars bar and it'll be done.

A+ fight put up by Virgil. He's been taking some classes during the lockdowns to better himself.

The Reapers are HORRIBLE military folk. How do ya'll not see Maggie & co leaving when you have people on the perimeter for the sole purpose of finding runners?! Do not hire them. 1 star on Yelp.

Yup I'm all over Vonnie. That "together" stuff was by far the shippiest thing we've seen all season.

And their reunion hug through the walll .... guuurl.

walker guts trick again: the express version

why do I feel like they could do a mini spin off of just a little war going on between the walkers and those jaundice mo-fos? Then one of the walkers falls for a crawler girl but her family thinks he's from the wrong side of the yellow house and don't like how he thinks he's better because he's taller than all of them.

Kelly found Connie! So happy this storyline ended with the 2 people the arc was truly about; the 2 sisters finding each otherafter years of the show hating siblings.

Now can we finish with Carol's self-hatred stuff and let her heal? We know Daryl is gonna be finished with his "gotta save 'em all" issues soon so it would be fantastic if they could finally be on the same baggage free playing field. Just a thought Kang.

Overall I thought it was a good episode. Only a few things I would nitpick ie. limited Carol, cheesy music during some of the haunted house bits, and the reapers need to go back to basic training and learn some stuff and thangs.

Ofc the spoilers beforehand were blown way out of proportion though I'm not surprised. I didn't go in expecting to see what was foretold and thankfully the spirit Gods prevailed again in defeating the overreaction we go through EVERY episode.

[nitrateglow]

Halloween marathon 2021: 5-7

See No Evil

See No Evil is about a newly blinded woman named Sarah (Mia Farrow) staying with relatives in their remote English estate. Through a chance encounter, Sarah’s uncle unwittingly insults the dignity of a mysterious psychopath, who proceeds to butcher Sarah’s entire family while she’s on a date. Sarah returns home to a house of bodies she cannot see and before long, the killer comes back as well, intent on collecting incriminating evidence from the lonely house. Once she senses danger, Sarah tries to run for help, only to find herself wandering a hostile landscape without her proper bearings.

I always say you’ve never really seen a movie until you’ve at least seen it twice. On a cold viewing, you experience the story and on rewatch, you can better appreciate the tools used to contribute to a project’s success or failure. The second time around, I better appreciated See No Evil’s visuals, which are certainly effective in linking the (sighted) audience with the blind protagonist’s horrible predicament.

The camera is often kept low to the ground, almost as though it’s cowering in a corner, nervously observing the proceedings. The filmmakers also opt to shoot Farrow from the front and in close-up when she’s on the move, preventing the audience from seeing where she’s going, thus intimately linking us with her fear and disorientation.

Unfortunately, the cinematography is about all I have a greater appreciation for. My old problems with this movie remain: Sarah is an underwritten, reactive character and the movie is so sadistic in piling indignities and torments upon her that it ceases to be enjoyable. There is no reversal where she turns the tables and fights back “final girl” style, and her moments of resourcefulness are scant. Because her character remains a static victim, the movie also becomes pretty tedious, little more than a 90-minute catalog of misery.

As a mystery-thriller, the script is at least twisty, cleverly incorporating clues to the killer’s identity throughout. The scenario is slow-going—it takes about fifty minutes before the central chase gets underway—but at the very least, the atmosphere is strong throughout, emphasizing isolation and autumnal gloom. I suppose what makes this movie so frustrating is how skillful it is. The camerawork, atmosphere, and mystery are all compelling. Just something vital is missing...

Au Secours!

Directed by the legendary Abel Gance and starring comedian Max Linder, Au Secours is best described as a French surrealist riff on Buster Keaton’s The Haunted House. Linder bets that he can handle an hour in a notorious haunted house—should he call for help before the allotted time, he loses. Novel camera tricks and bizarre characters assail Linder at every turn, but he takes them all in stride. For the most part, this is amusing in a 1920s surrealist way.

And then things get weird. Like uncomfortable weird.

Linder gets a call from his wife, who’s being menaced by a grotesque thug in her bed. The viewer is pressed with tight, harrowing close-ups of Linder’s panicked and tear-stained face, stuff that looks like it should be in a horror movie. For real, it does NOT come off as comedic overreaction, it’s weirdly unnerving, especially since the film has been so frothy up to this point. I won’t spoil the final twist, but it’s just—what the hell??

It really has to be seen to be believed.

Black Christmas

This was a rewatch. I went from liking this movie to loving it. Black Christmas (the 1974 original-- I refuse to watch either remake) is about a group of sorority girls stalked by a killer during the holidays. Despite being an early slasher movie, the focus is less on gore and more on old-fashioned suspense. The film only benefits and remains quite intense.

I love a thousand things about this film, but what I appreciate most is how the filmmakers went out of their way to make sure you care about the characters before they start getting picked off. So many slashers just present you with generic dumb teens as the victims, but Black Christmas makes them all human and funny. In fact, the abundant comedy throughout the movie only augments the horror, making it more effective when characters are put in danger.

In fact, this movie differs from later slashers in other key ways too, like in the characterization of protagonist Jess (played by Olivia Hussey). Jess is the “final girl,” but she breaks the mold in clearly not being a virgin-- in fact, she’s pregnant out of wedlock. She is not an outsider among her peers but one of the leaders, taking on an almost maternal role when needed (in fact, there’s a lot of mother-based imagery associated with the character, such as the pieta-style position she takes on with idiot boyfriend Peter in her arms towards the end of the film).

Despite not being explicitly significant to the plot, the Christmas atmosphere adds a lot to the movie as well. The majority of the action takes place at night, lit only by the soft, colorful glow of Christmas lights.The wintry chill is palpable (especially when poor Jess is at the door, shivering while she listens to carolers), emphasizing the isolation of the characters in later scenes. Along with The Nightmare Before Christmas, this is a film you could watch during Halloween or Christmas, and it would not feel out of place.

One more thing-- the killer Billy is creepy as hell. He was creepier on rewatch than the first time, mainly because I started paying more attention to his ramblings about “Agnes.” They are so, so disturbing and imply a lot of horrible things about Billy. I like that the film opts to keep him mysterious, never sharing some tragic backstory to explain his behavior. As a result, the last scene is as chilling as Halloween’s, making Billy appear like a boogeyman figure, a personification of never-dying evil.

[mischief-marauders]

What’re your opinions on captain marvel and Wonder Woman? I’m actually really curious, I don’t know much about the 2 of them (you don’t have to answer this ask if ya don’t want to :))

Ok, so before we get back to your regularly scheduled Marauders content, I’ll answer this. I watched both CM (Captain Marvel) and WW (wonder woman) various times. I don’t think we should pit two female solo superhero movies against each other but I do want to highlight some key points.

1) DC did it first. Everyone shits on DC but they’re ALWAYS leading with new ideas and diversity. People keep saying marvel was planning CM for years before WW but guess which movie got made first? WW. It paved the way for CM. Marvel’s planning a female team up movie. Guess who did it first? DC with Birds of Prey.

2) CM told you that she was strong various times. But they almost never showed it. No one told you WW was strong, she just showed it time and time again in the movie.

3) Wonder Woman was generally just more emotional and artistic for me. CM was just another marvel movie. Same plot, same cinematophy, same not funny humor. Brie Larson killed it though! I love her! WW had beautiful cinematography and there were so many beautiful and emotional scenes. No Man’s Land? Hands down one of the best superhero scenes.

4) More importantly, it showed that her emotions are her strength. Since the dawn of time, women have been told that they’re too emotional or overreacting. WW is at her most powerful when she’s emotional. She saw women and children suffering and went full on warrior in no mans land because of her empathy. Steve Trevor died and she turned into a literal God. She went god mode and destroyed a whole army and only then, her emotions and love for humanity is what stopped her from destroying the woman who was responsible for Steve’s death. She defeated the God of War (played by no other than David Thewlis/Remus Lupin) with her love of humanity.

5) The only thing that saved CM was Brie Larson and Maria Rambeau. I teared up during that pep talk she gave Carol.

[marvels-writings]

I love your writing so much (soft spot for your carol x reader fics). Can you please write for carol x reader where they’re both bffs that act so much like a couple and are affectionate cuz both are too scared to admit their feelings so they settle for that. Examples (carol resting her hand on reader’s thigh while driving / holding hands / cuddling in the cinema/ CAROL GIVES HER CHEEK KISSES) all of which makes them nervous and giddy inside. Please let it end with carol admitting her feelings Xx

A/N: Aww thanks. I might have made this a bit long, maybe with two parts, we’ll see (i always say something like this but it ends up being a mini series bc i never know until i finish writing). Anyway, here!:

“Carol you ready to go?” You asked, poking your head in her room as she picked up her jacket, grinning at you.

You were wearing your fav/color short sleeved t-shirt with navy ripped jeans and black converse. You’d decided against taking a jacket since you couldn’t decide. Carol wore an army green sweatshirt, black leggings and black pumas. 

You’d both made plans to see the new movie, Knives Out. Well it wasn’t new, you just wanted to see it in a cinema where there won’t be too many people. Since it had been out for a few months, there won’t be too many people.

“Yeah, let’s go!” She replied excitedly, heading out the door with you.

You had wanted to go to the movies for a month now, but wanted your best friend, Carol to come with you. It was about time she caught up with pop culture, plus, though you’d never admit it, you liked her. You wanted her to be your girlfriend, but you were scared she didn’t feel the same. As cliche as it was, this was the current predicament you were in. You didn’t want to lose your friendship, so you just stuck with what you had. 

“y/n/n, stop daydreaming, let’s go!” Carol joked when she realized you weren’t paying attention to anything really. In fact, you’d walked past the car the two of you were supposed to go in. You chuckled slightly and got in. 

Carol drove off towards the cinema, switching on the radio instantly. A favorite song of yours and Carol’s came on the instant you switched the radio on. You turned to see Carol grinning her usual contagious grin, you couldn’t help but grin back at her. The rest of the ride was filled with the two of you belting out the lyrics to your favorite songs.

What you had was pretty great, you would do anything to keep it. Even if it meant hiding your feelings from your best friend.

-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

For some reason, Carol was being overly affectionate today. The two of you were usually affectionate to the point where many people thought you were dating. Oh how you wish you were, but that was just the nature of your friendship.

Today however, Carol was touching you almost all the time. As soon as you got out of the car, she was holding your hand as you walked to the cashier to buy tickets. It wasn’t that you didn’t like being this affectionate with Carol, it just hurts knowing it might never be anything more than platonic. 

“Two tickets please.” You said, sliding a 20 dollar bill into the small slot. The cashier’s eyes flicked over you and carol. Then regarded the two of you holding hands. You could feel your cheeks start to burn slightly. 

“There’s a discount and a free snack for couples,” He said, bored as he cashed your money in. 

“Oh, uh no, We are-” You stuttered out, but Carol cut you off.

“Thank you, that would be amazing,” Carol said smoothly, stepping next to you, sliding her hand around your waist. Your cheeks were burning even more. “Right babe?” She asked you, grinning down at your flustered expression.

“Ye, yeah,” You muttered, the cashier handed the two of you your tickets and you headed inside. 

Once you were inside, you expected Carol to take her arm from around your waist, but she didn’t. Instead, she walked with you to the snack stand and cashed in the free coupon. She got a small bucket of butter popcorn and held it in her free hand, one arm still wrapped around your waist. It gave her a good excuse to be more affectionate with you. It made your heart do acrobatics which could qualify for the olympics. 

You reached out the hand which wasn’t smushed against Carol’s side to grab some popcorn as you headed into the theater. She unwrapped her hand from your waist to lightly smack the offending hand. You looked up at her confusedly. 

“My popcorn,” She teased, then promptly reached a hand inside the bucket to eat some. You glared at her as she scooped popcorn into her mouth as she giggled at your behaviour. 

You shake your head from side to side and headed towards the back of the theater for the best seats. You and Carol sat next to each other as the previews played before the movie. You pulled your phone out of your back pocket to text Natasha, who knew of your current… predicament. 

That was until Carol snatched the phone out of your hands. You opened your mouth in shock and turned to glare at her as she put the phone in her back pocket. 

“Phone’s away,’ She teased with a cocky smirk on her face. 

“No popcorn, no phone?” You pouted, crossing your arms in front of your chest and glared at the screen in front of you. 

Carol laughed at your cute behaviour, muttering cute under her breath. She placed the popcorn precariously on the edge of the armrest, after making sure it was stable she tapped your shoulder.

“You can have the popcorn if you want,” She offered, once you reached your hand in the bucket and had happily shoveled popcorn into your mouth she added, “babe,”

You choked instantly, popcorn going into your windpipe as you coughed. Carol didn’t expect this much of a reaction, but it was even more hilarious. She was laughing her head off as you were practically dying of popcorn. The little people around you were staring at the two of you.

“People are staring,” Carol said through laughter, rubbing your back slightly in an effort to help you. 

“And whose,” You coughed again, “Whose fault is that?” You snapped, finally swallowing the rest of the popcorn. 

Carol kept laughing as you reached into the bucket for more. The movie began and the popcorn was already empty. Carol put the bucket on the empty seat beside her as you put your hand on the armrest. She gently placed her hand on top of yours. 

You were slightly surprised at the sudden action, but you decided you were okay with it as you intertwined your fingers together. Maybe the movie wouldn’t be too bad, even if you almost died. 

-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

The movie theater was starting to get strangely cold, you were starting to shiver almost, maybe the outfit you were wasn’t the best idea. Carol noticed you shivering and debated on what to do, deciding after a particularly violent shiver. 

“Come here,” She said softly, pulling your hand gently towards her. You looked at her confused, before you realized what she meant. She wanted to cuddle while watching, in a cinema hall. You debated your decision, eventually deciding cuddling with her was better than catching a cold. 

“Fine,” You grumbled, lifting up the armrest dividing the seats and scooting over to her. 

She wrapped the hand which was holding yours around your shoulders, she still managed to hold your hand somehow. She was practically a heater, you couldn’t help but snuggle into her further. Your free hand went to wrap around her waist. You felt her tense up slightly, you were about to back off before she leaned backwards slightly, trapping your hand there. Carol’s body heat helped warm you drastically. Your shivering had stopped and you felt warm, in both ways. It felt so comforting to be this close to Carol, but your anxiety quickly came into play. Worry of rejection started to consume you, you almost pulled away, until carol gently started to stroke the knuckles on your hand. 

 Deciding your anxiety could wait, you scooted even closer to carol and decided to treasure the moment while it lasted. You fell asleep quickly, warm and comfortable. 

-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

When you woke up, you weren’t in the cinema. You were a bit chilly, there was cold air on your face but a spot right above your knee was warm. Feeling the fabric underneath you, you realized you were in your car. What the hell? You thought, groggily opening your eyes and looking around. Carol was driving, the two of you were almost at the compound, her hand was on your knee. Butterflies in your stomach was one of the first things you felt after waking up. 

“How, Carol did you carry me to the car?” You asked, she looked at you and smirked before returning her gaze to the road which winded into the compound. 

“I didn’t want to wake you,” She said, pulling up in the usual parking spot. 

“Yet you have no problem waking me up at 4 when you want to train,” You joked. 

Carol grinned and laughed while looking at you. You couldn’t help but grin back, even if there were butterflies in your stomach at her smile. The main reason you were cracking so many jokes was to see her smile. 

Carol pulled her hand from your thigh and got out of the car, closing the door behind her. You opened your door, but Carol was already on your side of the car, pulling it open for you. You raised an eyebrow at the action, but got out anyway. Before Carol closed the door, she leaned in and kissed your cheek. 

The amount of reactions your body had to that quick action was hard to count. Heart palpitations, butterflies, face heating up, you were almost sure you were about to have a heart attack. 

“Sorry about that” She whispered against your cheek, then pulled away. Closing the door with a cocky smirk. 

“It, it’s fine, don’t worry about it,” You stuttered, unable to come up with a witty reply. Your body was still overreacting to a small kiss as you walked towards the compound doors. . 

“Sorry for that, and almost making you die in the movie hall,” She apologized, following you. You raised an eyebrow slightly. 

“You’re full of apologies today,” You remarked. 

“Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do?” She asked, making you more confused than before. “Before, um,” She stuttered, then stopped. 

“Before…?” You asked, stopping and turning to face her. You heard her mumble ‘nothing’ then start to walk away from you. You grabbed her wrist, stopping her as she faced you. “Before what?” You questioned. 

“Before confessing,” She said quickly. Your eyes widened slightly, at your reaction she continued speaking. “Before I told you how much in love with you I am and how much I don’t ever want this to end…” 

Carol continued with the list of ‘how much’ but you were stunned into silence. She liked you, apparently she was in love with you. She loved you back. Carol Danvers, the great Captain Marvel, loved you. 

You broke out of your trance when you saw tears start to well up in her eyes. You put one finger to her lips to silence her. She didn’t flinch, you felt her lip wobble slightly under your finger as her tears threatened to break. She thought you weren’t responding because you hated her, she thought she was about to lose you and it was scaring her. 

“Jesus you talk more than Parker,” You commented, Carol smiled slightly. “I love you too Danvers,” You said softly, removing your finger and leaning in.

Carol returned the favor, wrapping her arms around your waist, pulling you in. Your faces were inches from each other as you waited for her to make the first move. In another burst of courage, you pressed your faces together, your arms winding your way to her neck. 

She kissed you softly, so, so softly, as if she was afraid she would break you. You didn’t lose your friendship with Carol, Carol didn't lose you. Both of you got something better, each other

[iamcinema]

IAC Reviews #18: The Basement (1989)

Well, here we are again.

I mentioned this with a previous review on Captives, but this year, in spite of all the awfulness that has gone on, it’s been surprisingly kind to me as far as getting lucky with uncovering stuff that has slid through the cracks. With Captives, I’ve waiting roughly ten or so years to finally get the chance to see it in all it’s mediocre, obscure glory. I wasn’t too sure when I’d ever get the chance to see Tim O’Rawe’s super 8 anthology, The Basement either given it’s own obscure and odd history. That day is finally here, and needless to say I couldn’t be more excited. ________________________________________  

The Basement is a 1989 super 8 horror anthology directed by Timothy O’Rawe, whose only other major, notable credit is Ghoul School the following year. Our story centers on that of four strangers who find themselves a mysterious basement where they’re met by an entity only known as The Sentinel who shows them their inevitable fates and what awaits them in the great beyond.

The film’s history is a bit spotty from what I could find, but the short version is that it was in production for just a bit over three weeks before O’Rawe abandoned it, leading to him eventually work on Ghoul School. It presumably sat in storage forgotten for roughly 20 years until Camp Motion Pictures edited it in 2010 and distributed it in 2011 as The Basement: Super 80s Retro Collection; which also included Cannibal Campout, Captives, Video Violence, and Video Violence 2. Now, as to how it was rediscovered, I’m not sure. I don’t know if it’s a case like Metal Noir where it was found on accident or O’Rawe found it in his collection again before handing it off to CMP. Now, with that said, I feel like we have a bit of a situation on our hands because I don’t know how fair this review might turn out given what we know for the time being.

The Basement in One Gif:

Oh, oh you guys. I think I found the perfect film and it might outshine Las Vegas Bloodbath here with just the finest, most outstanding acting and line delivery I’ve ever seen. I knew from the first three minutes that I was in for something special and seeing it all over again is just. Wow. ________________________________________

So, before I dive in I think I should say that I’m not sure how fair this is going to be given that the film was abandoned and was more than likely unfinished. I can’t make heads or tails of it all with the plot holes going on or the clumsy acting and dialogue, like if it’s a timing and budget problem or what. It’s truly fucking bizarre. It also doesn’t help that without a vague plot summary online, you probably won’t have much of an idea as to what’s going on, and this is going to cause a ton of problems from the jump.

With the opening, we’re already off to a bad start. We see our main four wandering around a dingy basement, wondering how they’re going to get out. There’s no rhyme or reason for it. They’re just sort of there and we aren’t told how they ended up there. Now, I don’t know if this is a problem with the writing and it was never considered or it was probably with the timing and the scene was never shot before O’Rawe abandoned the film. It would have been nice to have say, a Cube or Saw scenario where they all just woke up there.

From what I found, it says they were summoned there, presumably by The Sentinel or the evil energy from the house that they supposedly released, but that still raises the question of why they didn’t go back the way they came. If the house trapped them inside, then it surely wasn’t conveyed or alluded to. It’s not like an underground mine or cave where it’s easy to get lost. There’s also the question of why the Sentinel is choosing to specifically punish them, given that he shows them visions of their futures that will ultimately condemn them with no chance of redemption. So, we’re going into predestination territory?

Next to this, the more obvious problem is the acting and line delivery. It’s pretty damn bad, full of overreacting and what I can only guess is just bad dubbing. Once again, I can’t tell if the dubbing came about at the hands of CMP or it was already like that when O’Rawe was working on it. It’s likely going to be the best-worst thing about this, so I hope you’re in the mood for bad cheese. ________________________________________

Our first story, The Swimming Pool, centers on Victoria who, for some reason, really has it out for her husband and we’re never told why. She just hates him because “plot device” I guess. The bad line delivery and dubbing shines here and it’s boarding on being horrible and comedic, which isn’t the best way to kick us off into things.

We find that after her husband goes for a swim that there’s some sort of water entity in the pool and she sort of just has a odd reaction to it all, where one moment she’s reacting to it and the next she’s sitting by the water. I can’t tell if this is supposed to take place the same day, which it looks like, or they didn’t to a good job to show some sort of transition to another point in time. Also, she has names of her enemies and other doodles scribbled in a book like an eighth grader for some reason. It’s so corny and cheesy.

There’s no sort of lore or explanation for where the pool demon thing came from, let alone why Victoria feels compelled to do this. The ending also makes no sense either when we see what becomes of her either. It’s should be noted that this chapter is just around the ten minute mark, making it the shortest of the lot. Now, I can’t tell if it’s like this intentionally or there were more shots planned, but didn’t get filmed due to the film being abandoned. I’m not too sure, but it’s probably the worst of the four.

--

We get our next chapter in the form of Trick-or-Treat, a sort of Christmas Carol style story centering on a widowed high school teacher who is visited by various monsters who demand he changes his ways for hating kids and disrespecting the spirit of Halloween. We get an interesting fantasy sequence where he unleashes his pent up anger our on his students before veering off a bit towards this story’s sort of second act where the spirit of his wife visits him, warning him to change his ways before he faces a similar fate she has. You’d think that would lead to a sort of revelation for him to do something, but it doesn’t. Like, man, you can’t even just fake it for a day or anything? It’s not like they implied they were going to keep tabs on you every Halloween or anything, so why make a big deal about it?

If I had to find some sort of positive about this one, it’s that it probably has the most decent special effects and makeup work of the four. But, of course I’m not sure how much of a positive that is and what it says about what we can expect from the other two stories. It may or may not also be the most rounded of them too, again, not sure if that’s a major positive given when we have to work with and it works fairly decently as just a stand alone short film on its own.

--

The third chapter brings us to Zombie Movie, centering on a film crew working on a low budget zombie flick with their asshole director, Adelman, and things slowly go to shit when their picture becomes a reality. Hmm, low budget 80s zombie flick...bad director...I think I’ve heard of this before! It’s also neat to see a small easter egg here in the form of the production assistant, played by JR Bookwalter, wearing a Dead Next Door shirt, as O’Rawe got a special thanks notice in the credits of that film as well. The dubbing here is particularly awful, but at least he wasn’t wrong when he said the zombies look like assholes!

As for why any of this is happening, we don’t get an answer. Why? Who cares! Maybe it just hearkens back to the last story where it’s happening due to the director disrespecting the art of zombie films. Your guess is as good as mine. It’s a shame too that the acting here absolutely sucks for the most part because this could have been the best one of the bunch...maybe. There’s a bit of an issue towards the end where the director immediately jumps to there being zombies on the loose and not a bunch of jackass trespassers causing trouble, but maybe there’s a deleted or unrecorded scene where the actresses tell him what the PA was freaking out over and he got paranoid? I’m not too sure. Either way, it feels like a sloppy way to bring things to a close.

--

The final chapter brings us to Home Sweet Home, the simple story about a guy named Scott who purchases a house in the countryside with a gruesome history and begins to question his sanity in the process when it seems like the rumors about it might be true after all. It’s arguably the most generic of the four and here I would say that’s a compliment to play it as safe as possible.

Almost right away, I noticed something off, and I don’t mean with the dubbing because that’s weird on it’s own. There’s a weird point in the conversation he has with the realtor about the house where she mentions that part of the legend with the house is that the owner committed suicide after going on a killing spree and it ties into why they haven’t found him. I can’t tell if it was a clumsy way to explain things, but wouldn’t it make sense for the police to have found him if that was the case? Again, your guess is as good as mine. With that being said, I hope you enjoy night shots because we’re going to get a ton of them!

Things begin to pick up a bit after Scott arrives to the new place and starts to get settled in with the help of a friend who shows up after talking to the realtor. I’m not sure how he thought he would get lucky that way, but alright. The conversations afterward with his girlfriend are also what you can expect as far as acting goes too, which isn’t anything too special. From here on out, I anticipated a ton of squinting because it’s hard to tell what’s going on at any point if there isn’t even a little bit of candlelight. It’s like watching Nekro, but somehow worse, yet better than Blood Lake, which sucks because if some of these shots weren’t so damn dark, the special effects would look pretty damn cool. It’s also kind of a downer in a way to know what comes next given how this guy wasn’t an asshole who had it coming like the other three did too.

The film ends with the Sentinel showing them what awaits them now that they’ve been judged for their actions, and it goes the way I’m sure you can already picture it going before we close to the credits with some mediocre 80s tunes. Estus Pirkle approved perhaps?

________________________________________ 

So, that was The Basement. It was a weird ride from start to finish and I’m still not entirely sure how I feel about it. It’s one giant anomaly and I feel like now I have more questions than answers.

I mentioned it before, but it’s worth saying again that I want to know how much of the problems here are just a result of the project being abandoned, the film naturally being this flimsy, or CMP had something to do with it because I feel like I had this issue too when it came to Captives and I can’t tell if they how much of the film was really saved and how much of it was butchered by Majestic Home Video. It could be a bit of everything here, though I don’t want to believe that CMP would try to sabotage this given how long it had been out of the public eye for.

That being said, there’s so much going on here and trying to wrap my head around it hurts. I can’t tell if the acting is naturally this trashy or it’s only enhanced by the dubbing. It also feels like more stuff was supposed to be going on, but it just didn’t for one reason or another and I’m not sure if that robs something from it or was for the best.

As I mentioned with the whole Swimming Pool chapter, it feels like something else was originally planned to happen at some point and things just fell through. It would have been nice to have a sort of story line like with the Are You Afraid of the Dark episode, “The Tale of the Dark Music” where Victoria makes some sort of deal with the entity in exchange for something in return. It would explain more of her logic and reasoning behind her method of madness instead of it all seeming random.

With Trick-or-Treat, having more padding or explanation to justify his hatred of kids and Halloween would have been great too and not slow down the pace of the story. Hell, give me a brief one-off bit like with Night of the Demons where they’re being a bunch of dicks to the old guy. There, problem solved. It’s a lot easier than a single, brief shot of some kids who poorly try to egg his house. Again, nothing would have been lost here if they went that direction, unless the whole point was to make him the old geezer type who just hates the season and that’s it.

Zombie Movie probably could have had the most potential to be the best of the four if it wasn’t for the painfully bad dubbing and acting. If that was a non-issue, I could buy into the premise more without much of a problem. Plus, it feels like a cameo on part of Bookwalter with how flimsy the execution was, or even Carl  Burrows who played one of the B actors and has the most prolific career of the cast; being in other stuff like Ghoul School, Psycho Sisters, Toxic Avenger III, Crybaby Lane, Mysteries at the Museum, The Sadist, and Psycho Street to name a few.

Home Sweet Home still feels like the more normal and grounded one of the bunch and I’m not sure if playing it safe helped in the end either. It probably could have been saved if it was stretched out a bit more and we got to see more into Scott’s psyche and go on the journey with him about whether or not his dreams and hallucinations are real. It also doesn’t help either that some of the night shots make it hard to tell what’s going on because what you can make out with some of the gore scenes are pretty cool and it feels like we got robbed here. I’m still not sure why Scott is being thrown under the bus with Victoria, Charles, or Mr. Adelman considering his only “crime” seems to be not taking a superstitious rumor seriously. Talk about harsh.

Beyond this, there’s not a ton to talk about either. The music is fairly average and not all that interesting, being what one could expect from something on a low budget for the time and when your sound producer and editor is one of your guys providing additional voice work, you can only expect so much and even then it’s probably too much. This is such an oddity and I’m still kind of surprised that it was found again after all these years. It’s funny how things like this just slip through the cracks of time and it’s good to know this more than likely won’t go missing again, though I’m in no rush to take this out of the vault to revisit any time soon.

Rating: 3/10

[artificialqueens]

All the Stories (Begin With You and Me) (Branjie) -- athena2

Summary: Brooke is nervous about taking anxiety meds for the first time, and Vanessa comforts her.

A/N: This is a little hurt/comfort gift for Writ, because they are the absolute best and I just adore them. It also ended up a little therapeutic for me, and I hope you enjoy! Please leave feedback if you’d like! This does focus on anxiety quite a bit, so please be cautious.

Title from Message in the Wind from Carole and Tuesday (Thanks Writ for introducing me to that song!)

Read on AO3

—

“It shouldn’t be a big deal, right?” Brooke laughs nervously. “It’s just a little pill.”

Vanessa rests a hand on Brooke’s back. “It’s okay if it is,” she says softly.

Vanessa is torn, because she doesn’t want to make this a big deal, doesn’t want to make Brooke any more self-conscious than she is. She wants taking medication to just be part of Brooke’s morning routine, as normal as packing their lunches. But on the other hand, she’s so proud of Brooke for getting help, for making this change, and Brooke deserves to be praised.

Vanessa decided waffles for breakfast were a good halfway-point, not too extravagant but enough to make the day a little special. She made enough noise to wake the city pulling their waffle maker out of the cupboard, pots and pans tumbling out in an avalanche that ruined the surprise when Brooke came running to see if she was okay. They made them together, Brooke stirring batter that Vanessa let sizzle on the iron, and the golden stack sits next to the bottle of pure Canadian maple syrup—because Brooke wouldn’t use anything else—and the Nutella Vanessa slathers on hers. Their coffee mugs–red with pink hearts for Vanessa and black with white cats for Brooke–steam on the table, lying in wait for their first glorious sips.

She knows this is a big step for Brooke, one that’s taken months, even years. Vanessa has known Brooke’s anxiety as long as she’s known Brooke. She’s reassured Brooke that people in the mall weren’t laughing at her, watched as she stuttered her way through ordering food, sweaty hands holding the menu in a death grip. She’s held Brooke’s hands to stop her from chewing her nails off in a fit of restlessness. She’s talked Brooke down from a panic attack, sitting on the bathroom floor and coaching Brooke to breathe with a light hand on her chest. She was there, even when it broke her heart to see Brooke hurting so much.

When Brooke broke down crying after an anxious spiral one night, cuticles raw and bleeding, whole body trembling even after Vanessa wrapped her in a blanket, Vanessa encouraged her to get help. It took a month of coaxing before Brooke finally called, leading to consultations and paperwork and appointments and the tiny orange bottle looming in front of them on the counter.

“I just…it feels weird to need meds,” Brooke says. Her shoulders slump and Vanessa’s heart aches for her.

Asking for help doesn’t come naturally to Brooke, she knows that. Brooke is a fierce perfectionist, a trait only deepened by her dance training. She’s used to pushing her feelings down, straightening her posture, and holding her head high to cover up the anxiety twisting in her stomach, the worries racing through her mind.

Waffles and comforting words can’t magically fix things, but Vanessa’s going to do her best, and rubs slow, soothing circles on Brooke’s back. “It’s okay to need meds. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. If you had high blood pressure or somethin’ and needed medicine, would you be ashamed?”

Brooke’s cheeks flush pink. “No.”

“Right,” Vanessa agrees. “It’s just medicine to help your brain out. That’s all.”

Brooke nods, picking up the pill. It’s almost in her mouth when she stops.

“What—what if they don’t work?” She asks quietly, eyes wide with a fear Vanessa wishes she could take away. She knows Brooke’s brain is already calling her a failure over the possibility that they won’t work, like it’s her fault.

“They might not,” Vanessa says truthfully, recalling the paperwork she and Brooke reviewed together. “But it’s not your fault if they don’t. The papers said certain meds don’t work for certain people, or maybe you’ll need a different dosage. But Dr. Cain will help with that, okay?”

“What if they…change me?”

“Well, they will a little bit,” Vanessa says. Honesty is what Brooke needs right now, the best way to calm her fears. “They’re gonna quiet down the things that make you anxious so you can feel better. But you’re still Brooke, right? You’re still caring and patient and smart and think you’re tough when you really just a big softie. You can still eat half a pizza in one sitting. You can still dance and watch cheesy movies with me.” Vanessa smiles, heart lifting as Brooke returns it. “You’re still Brooke. And I still love you.”

Brooke squeezes her hand and Vanessa squeezes back. She holds on tight as Brooke washes down her pill with a sip of water.

“Can we have waffles now?” Brooke asks sheepishly.

“Of course we can.”

—-

All day at work, Brooke tries to decide if she feels different. She knows the meds don’t work that fast, but she can’t stop staring at herself in the dance studio mirror and wondering if anything has changed.

Same blonde hair that she’ll release from its bun and let Vanessa run her fingers through tonight. Same green eyes that Vanessa says remind her of spring leaves. Same legs that Vanessa traces her fingers up, marvelling at how long they are.

The meds shouldn’t change much on the outside, but what about the inside? Will she know the meds are working? Will her thoughts feel different? Is she still Brooke without that voice in her head telling her to find every last typo in her emails so she doesn’t look unprofessional? Is she still Brooke without rehearsing her order 10 times so she doesn’t mess up and sound stupid?

The fact that she’ll have to keep taking medication is strange. Vanessa got her a sparkly black pill holder with a slot for each day, something Brooke would glance over in the section of the store loaded with fuzzy puff-ball keychains and holiday napkins on clearance and old planners with vaguely inspirational quotes–random stuff that was fun to look at, but that she never thought she’d actually need. She can’t quite shake the voices in her head–whether they’re her own, her parents’, or her old dance instructor’s, she can’t tell–saying that she’s inferior for needing them.

You don’t need help. You’re overreacting. There’s nothing wrong with you.

Stop crying and get your homework done.

No excuses. Focus.

She takes a deep breath like she learned in therapy. There’s another voice breaking through, stronger than the others, and it sounds like Vanessa’s.

There’s no shame in asking for help.

Brooke has never had to ask for help. She’s always been the perfect daughter, bringing home straight-A report cards and landing solos in dance recitals, a perfect image neglecting the stress that went into creating it, the sleepless nights studying and practicing routines. She could write an essay with shaky hands and tear-blurred eyes at 2am and still get an A. She didn’t need help. She could chew her lip until it bled while working on the studio’s finances and have it all come out fine. Her anxiety isn’t a problem if she still comes out on top. She didn’t need help. That’s just how she is.

Or how she was, because even if they take weeks to fully work, the meds are supposed to help with that. It wasn’t until she went to therapy that she saw the things she thought make her succeed just make her miserable. She didn’t need to spend her entire lunch hour deliberating over a three-line email, her stomach growling all day after her leftover stir-fry went untouched. She didn’t need to stay up past midnight quadruple-checking studio plans she finished hours before when she could be sleeping with Vanessa.

It’s the way she is, but maybe it didn’t have to be that way anymore.

People have given it many names since she was a kid, in hushed voices like it was some scandalous secret no one was supposed to mention. Brooke was just a worrier. A perfectionist. Detail-oriented. Type A. High-strung. Fussy. It wasn’t until she was sitting in her office that Dr. Cain told her its name: anxiety.

It was anxiety that whispered in her ear and told her she wasn’t good enough. Anxiety that told her a booming laugh from fifty feet away was aimed at her, that she had done something stupid. It was anxiety that told her she didn’t need help, that she didn’t deserve it when people needed it more, that she needed the anxiety to function. But Dr. Cain said none of that is true. She deserves help, and she doesn’t need anxiety to function.

Brooke hasn’t told Vanessa, but she’s scared. All those things–the worrying, the perfecting, the what if-ing–have been part of her as long as she remembers, from when she stayed up way too late as a child worrying about bad things happening at school. She doesn’t want to keep those parts, especially after Dr. Cain showed her how harmful they are, but she’s had them for so long that she’s afraid to lose them. She honestly doesn’t know who she is without the worrying, without the fretting, without the need to be perfect.

You’re still Brooke, Vanessa said.

Vanessa is right. She is still Brooke. She’s still going to let the dog and cats cuddle with her on the couch when they can hardly fit. She’ll still going to make popcorn and let Vanessa choose on movie nights just to see her smile before they trade salty-buttery kisses. She’s still going to work in the studio, and dip French fries (maybe or maybe not stolen from Vanessa’s plate) into her vanilla milkshake, and fall asleep with her wife in her arms. She’s still Brooke, who loves Vanessa with all her heart.

And nothing will ever change that.

—

The smell of chicken with lemon and garlic fills the kitchen, Vanessa tending to the stove in her pajamas (‘Who says I can’t put my pj’s on right after work? It ain’t against the law’).

Brooke knows that no matter what happens, whether the meds work on the first try or need adjusting, if she has any side effects or not, Vanessa will be there, and that’s enough.

“You have a good day?” Vanessa asks.

Brooke answers her with a kiss. “You were right.”

“Ain’t I always?” Vanessa smiles. “But about what?”

“I’m still Brooke. And I still love you.”

[caroloftheshells]

crimes of the future 2022

it's been a couple days and i've now come down from the high of watching this movie lol so here are a few thoughts.

[spoilers start here. csa implied, incest implied]

it's not an accident that timlin "surgery is the new sex" kstew is who goes in on behalf of the government and surgically replaces brecken's organs. and i think people responded to this movie as being slow & wacky & disjointed due to not wanting to see the connections that are pretty much methodically laid out leading up to that reveal-- from djuna smothering him in bed to lang saying "of course i have my son's body, he's my son" to caprice saying "performance art is consensual; this would be different" to saul saying djuna seemed "obsessed" with his body. what ties it all up with a horrible bow for me is that conversation early on where saul is joking about getting corny stereotypical shit tattooed on his new organs before giving them over to the registry, and caprice is like lol i wish but they have Standards over there. hang on

saul: why not do something that really looks like a tattoo? a heart? an anchor? "mother"? caprice: that would be playful. but the registry insists on "uniquely self-referential."

anyway then they open brecken up in a public autopsy and he has "mother" tattooed on his intestines.

lang is horrified; he thinks this means his ex-wife got to brecken first to sabotage his demo-- again thinking somewhere between possessively & protectively about his son. but it was timlin, offscreen (it's important that we don't see this i think). saul rids the body of these interloping "normal" organs. quits his informant position. eats plastic in solidarity, and lives.

[end spoilers here]

what i love about this movie is i think it articulates something i'm having trouble articulating even here-- something about straight cisgender family-matters types taking sexually possessive, controlling measures to project cis/hetero identity and a desired (reproductive) future onto their children. and this being the same cohort of straight cisgender family-matters types who will get up in arms about supposed "grooming" by lgbtq people, consent-focused sex ed, etc.-- which they blame for limiting their sovereignty over their kids' bodies. and the way this concept of "parental rights" works in sync with official legal/medical entities too. we all (on here) know about That manifestation of homo/transphobia, especially transphobia. but in the absence of body-transformation-as-horror (which is kind of the reverse of what's going on here, contrary to some ppl's expectations i guess given, yk, cronenberg) you have to feel the dread in brecken's situation, and in the sort of narrowing timeline for our classic one-last-job protagonist to pick a side, to embrace change, for this to be felt as scary.

i was googling reviews and found one like "man this was a cool movie; it would've been cooler without the sideplot [??] about the kid," and another on letterboxd like "it's kind of :/ weird :/ that they go out of their way to be kinky half the movie and then the climax of the movie happens :/ they should've thought that through more." but i think they did think it through and it's entirely subtextually on the ball that that happened. anyway. recommended. stream no future: queer theory and the death drive

[shellheadtm-a]

@involuntaryspy / bucky and tony not another ship meme

who would be the one to randomly adopt a puppy without consultation

honestly this...i don't see being a thing?  at least, you know, not with living things.  with non-living things, it's tony.  it's always tony.  he will always make the big purchase/thing of that nature without stopping to think for two seconds if he maybe should bc he operates on impulse to a degree when it comes to money.  but also if tony were less self-aware about being unable to care for himself, much less another living creature, then yes.  that would also be him, because he has sucker written on his forehead.

who would force the other to take aesthetic pictures of them

didn't we decide bucky is awful at it if it's not for work.  i vividly remember talking about all the cryptic tony on his phone.  anyway, no, this is tony, tony takes the somewhat aesthetic pictures, and most of them are probably bucky and al, no i do not take criticism.  but you also have the random steve and carol and rhodey and whoever else he manages to wrangle.  sometimes he even remembers instagram exists.

who would do stuff they think is stupid just to make the other one happy

isn't...that...what relationship compromise is?  are you telling me bucky doesn't go along with tony shenanigans just because it makes him happy?  are you telling me tony doesn't let bucky drag him places just because it'll make bucky happy?  it's a 50/50 split.

who picks out the horror movies to watch just so the other will cling to them

tony, a child of the 80s, letting anyone else pick?  incorrect.  he picks them.  will anyone actually get scared?  uh, probably not.  besides, tony's one of those...the worse a movie is with a budget of like five bucks and a frosty from wendy's, the more he's gonna want to watch it.  they're hilarious, if anything.

who is constantly studying and who is constantly trying to distract them

this is me looking pointedly at bucky barnes.  it's a game, okay.  it's a game.  how long can tony stay focused with bucky fucking with him.  the answer is longer than you'd think but not long enough to deter bucky.  besides, finding new ways to break tony's laser like focus is always fun.

who initiates the facetime calls whenever they’re separated

honestly, why does it have to be one or the other.  why can't they both do it.  because i bet they both do it.  but i'm also actually willing to bet tony's actually the worst culprit of this.  if he's working it makes being hands-free easier.  if not...he can still say he was instead of admitting he misses bucky's face (spoiler:  he'll still admit he misses bucky's face.)

who is more likely to storm out after a fight and who is more likely to cry when they do

they...actually...really don't...fight.  it's weird.  i mean yeah they disagree, but like...it literally?  never gets to that level?  it's kinda crazy, tbh, how level headed they both are, when tony's a known overreacter and crier.  and the only time tony storms out is when bucky goes one pun or bad pickup line too far.

who stays up way too late binge-watching their favorite shows

honestly, bucky's more likely to try to keep them on a semi-regular sleep schedule, but lbr, they both can't sleep?  sometimes?  so there's that.  but also there's the fact that tony will not go to sleep on the principle of not wanting to go to bed just because, so he's way, way more likely to do this.  the only reason he doesn't actually do it as much as he otherwise would is because he doesn't wanna revisit his contortionist act to get into bed once al lays claim to his pillow.

who bites the other’s ear when they’re feeling frisky

what i will say is that tony is an ear nibbler.  not a biter, a nibbler, because he's kinda soft and gentle all the way around but...i'm just saying.

who sprays the other with water when they’re washing the car

bold of you to assume this isn't a two way street.  i mean have you met tony stark?  have you met bucky barnes?

who has more fun decorating the house during holidays

honestly, i think they both approach it in their own ways with like...some enthusiasm?  but tony's definitely enthusiastic about the ones where he gets to engineer something.  he had a blast on halloween, and i legitimately wonder what he was banned from doing on christmas.

who is more likely to give the silent treatment when they’re mad at the other

human nature aside, tony's not necessarily going to give the silent treatment, because that's not what it is.  tony does, however, go quiet and withdrawn if it's anything other than Right and Justice being debated, if he's...in any way upset.  so take that as you will.

who plays with the others’ hair more

the question you should be asking is when does bucky stop fucking with tony's hair.  never, is the answer.  like tony has a habit of wrapping bucky's hair around his fingers but it's like...and unconscious thing now, he just does it.  bucky actively goes out of his way to play in tony's.  which, you know, fair.  it's really nice hair.

who is more likely to climb all over the other one when they’re bored

they both do this and it's terrible.  tony's big on whining at the same time, too.

who tries to kiss the other as often as they can

they're both smoochy, it's disgusting.  uncalled for.  absolutely unacceptable.

who pouts when the other one tells them to shut the fuck up

do you...do you really think that would work?  like...honestly?  well, first thing, i can tell you what tony's reaction to being told 'shut the fuck up' would be from someone he's put his whole trust in, and it wouldn't be pretty.  like that ain't a good thing, y'all.  and after all the horrible, horrible pickup lines he's suffered from bucky he's not gonna tell bucky to shut up.  so i mean...

who initiates the sex and who walks away when the other is riled up

listen.  you know, and i know, tony has literally done this.  literally.  done.  that.  exactly.  they're both awful when they get in that power struggle mood and then no one gets laid and it's a sad time all around.  use your words, gentlemen.

who always forgets the umbrella and who holds it when they actually have one

tony will literally always forget to bring an umbrella but he'll be the one to hold it if bucky remembers, mostly because tony's taller and it makes things easier.

who demands showering first in the mornings

spoiler:  it ain't tony.

who sneaks into the shower with the other one in the mornings

tony, if he wakes up in time.  guaranteed.  tony's never gonna be the earliest riser, but he knows what opportunity knocking looks like, and he's going to take advantage of it.

who prefers riding the roller coasters and who prefers playing the games

who needs roller coasters when you've got iron man.  also, i have the feeling that some games are banned, or at least need to be.  also consider:  poker night.

who will text the other one thirty times in a row until they respond

tony.  bucky's not a big texter, and tony prefers to text, so he will do this until he gets an answer.  and he will pout when it's one of bucky's one word texts.

who always forgets to charge their phone overnight

i know we said it could go either way, but i'm gonna remind you and the world at large that tony?  forgets to charge things.  remember the chestplate?  remember how he'd let it run down to nothing?  yeah.  like that but less life-threatening usually.

who comes up behind the other and slide their hands into their back pockets

like...i think it's understood on the whole if you're gonna do that to either of them it's probably best to let them know you're there first.  you know, considering.  but also consider the alternative of from the front and yes tony will totally stoop to be able to do it to bucky.

who tries to get hugs from the other as often as they can

remember the smoochy thing?  that, but with hugs.  they're disgustingly cuddly, and they need to not.

who is louder and who constantly has the tell the other to be quiet

honestly, tony's louder in general, but it's also mostly when he's in one of his...arm-wavy let me tell you how wrong you are moods.  you know the ones, where he gets all melodramatic.  otherwise he's...actually not?  discounting if he's suited up bc then he's kinda clanky but.  i feel like they're both those soft footed people that can sneak up on you without meaning to.

[thee-seb-stan]

Middle of nowhere

Author: @thee-seb-stan

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x wife!reader

Warnings: fluff mixed with a poor attempt of crack/humor, implied smut, language (slightly, just a word or two)

Word count: 1.600ish

Summary: It’s been a long and exhausting year for Sebastian, shooting and promoting many of his movies with almost no rest at all. So Y/N decides to surprise him with a small trip over Christmas somewhere quiet. 

A/N: This was written for @jpat82 ‘s ‘J’s Marvelous Holiday Party Challenge‘ and my prompt was number 27 aka “And where do you think you're going?” “To go shovel the driveway again, or fall on my ass, gravity will decide.”. The prompt is bold in my work. Thank you for letting me participate and enjoy! Also, remember that feedback is always appreciated! ♡

→ Go back to my main masterlist ←

“Honey, I love you but I’m not so sure about my safety with you behind the wheel when it’s snowing outside.”

“Oh, shut up, Stan,” you squeezed his thigh as the man, who owned your heart, sat in the passenger seat, blindfolded and slightly terrified.

“Both hands on the wheel, please,” he grabbed your hand, his warm hand being in contrast with how cold your hands usually were, especially in winter.

A small laugh escaped your lips as you watch Sebastian overreact to your driving, knowing he only did it for fun but there was a part of him that was partly scared. Mainly because he knew what kind of driver you were.

It was just a few days ‘till Christmas and Seb couldn’t stop and relax for a moment. The whole year, you two were apart most of the time with Sebastian travelling around the world, shooting a few new films and promoting the ones which were soon to be released, the only contact you had was through Skype or FaceTime, which wasn’t satisfying enough.

So when he came back home to New York, you were already waiting with two plane tickets to Montana where your parents owned a nice cottage in the middle of nothing. The perfect place for you two to relax and get Sebastian’s mind off.  However, Sebastian only knew you were going somewhere, never actually being told where to exactly.

“We’re here,” you smiled and parked the car in the small garage attached to the two-storey wooden house where you were planning on spending at least a week so Seb would relieve some of his stress before the Christmas Eve would come because you had to leave, already having plans on spending that day with Seb’s mom.

“Okay, you can take off the blindfold, honey,” you reassured the brunette who clumsily got out of the car, almost tripping over his feet in the process, and was now standing next to you in front of the front doors.

Without a second, the thin black material was pulled off of his eyes, which were wide with surprise as he took in the house before him.

“What is that?” he couldn’t help but ask while you handed him one of your luggage, already making your way to the doors.

“My grandpa bought it when I was a baby, gave it to my parents as a congratulations gift and now we rarely use the house, mostly because we don’t have much time to hang out in here.”

As you opened the door, a big hall was revealed with doors leading to the kitchen and the living room. The whole place had wooden walls decorated with pictures your family painted over the years, the house was rather old-fashioned than modern, the only modern things were the TV, a notebook and surprisingly good wi-fi.

“Also, when there’s a snowstorm, it becomes impossible to leave, making this a perfect trap,” you added as you turned around to see Seb standing in the doorway, mouth open wide as he took the sign in.

“And did you check the weather to be sure we won’t get stuck?” he asked after a few seconds, putting down your luggage. The black long coat he was wearing was covered with small white dots from the snow falling outside, a few snowflakes decorating his fluffy slightly long hair and beard he grew out over a few months.

You couldn’t help but stare at his beauty, wondering how a girl like you could get this lucky. It was hard for you to wrap your head around it.

The luggage you were carrying fell with a light thud as you walked to Seb, dusting off the snow from his shoulders and giving him a quick peck on his cold lips before you opened his coat and hugged his torso, hiding your arms in his outwear to warm yourself as his arms snuck around your back to bring you closer.

“No,” you mumbled against his chest, “there wasn’t a snowstorm in ages, so…”

→ The next day ←

The living room was filled with a scent of cinnamon and apple, quiet Christmas carols playing in the background as you sat on the couch clad in the red pyjamas with small reindeers all over the pants, leaning against Sebastian as you sipped the hot chocolate, looking at all the flames dancing with each other in the fireplace.

His hand was placed on your tummy underneath your shirt, his soft touch drawing small circles on your skin, raising goosebumps all over your body.

“Remember when you said there wasn’t a snowstorm in ages?” he whispered in your ear before kissing your earlobe.

Both of you looked at the big window, which almost created a glass wall. Everything outside was white, snowflakes falling from the sky, created another layer of snow blanket on the doorstep.

Seb was already outside twice today to shovel the driveway a little so it was possible for you to go from the house to the garage in case you needed to drive away. Unfortunately, with how much snow was coming, it was impossible to drive and none of you wanted to risk it.

It was close to five pm when it started to be dark outside. Seb and you stayed cuddled whole day, he occasionally going to get rid of the snow in the driveway or making you something hot to keep you warm as both of you relaxed and slept through most of the morning and afternoon.

Your husband stopped drawing circles on your skin and gently laid your half-conscious body on the couch, letting you sleep as he rose to put a few logs into the fireplace to keep the room warm. Then, he went to put on his coat, taking the shovel from the corner.

“And where do you think you’re going?”  you mumbled against the pillow, opening your eyes to see Sebastian dressed in his black coat, hand already on the handle.

“To go shovel the driveway again or fall on my ass…gravity will decide,” he smiled at you, showing a bright set of teeth.

“You forgot something,” your voice filled the quiet pause as you rubbed your eyes, looking at your man who immediately walked over to you, bending over and pecking your lips.

“You call this a kiss?”

He couldn’t help but laugh a little at you, lying there underneath a thick blanket, your left ring finger decorated with a small but beautiful silver ring with a small diamond in the middle. Sebastian couldn’t wish for someone other than you, a woman who would do anything for him as he would die for you too. He still didn’t believe how lucky he got with you, to have you by his side, supporting him, loving him.

His lips were warm against yours, but his hand felt cold against your cheek as he cupped your face, your lips melting into each other’s as he slipped his tongue in your mouth, a small moan escaping you as he explored your mouth, your tongues dancing with each other in a passionate dance.

As he pulled away, your mouth chasing his as he stood back up but not before giving you another quick peck on lips.

“That’s what I call a kiss,” you mumbled and smiled, looking up at his tall figure towering over you.

His cheeks became pink with your compliment as he smiled at you, turning around to go shovel the driveway before it was too dark.

It took you not even three minutes before you heard a thud, then shouting and after a few seconds, Sebastian barged back inside, his whole back covered in snow as he took his coat off, running his hands through his hair to get rid of snow there.

A laugh escaped your lips as you watch him. He instantly looked at you, a small crease between his eyebrows.

“Did you know it was drizzling overnight? It’s like an ice rink outside.”

“I know.”

You watched him go over to you, taking the blanket away so he could sit down. He took your ankles and brought your legs over his thighs, massaging your feet covered in thick socks your grandma knitted you.

“And you didn’t care to stop me?” he looked at you, mischief evident in his eyes as they ran over your face with a small grin on his bearded face, “y’know I’ll want something as a reward for busting my ass out there, right?”

As he said the last sentence, his whole body hovered over yours as he kissed your neck quickly, his left hand grabbing your hip underneath the blanket as his right hand secured his weight.

“No,” you signed, enjoying the feeling of his lips on your skin, “wanted to see how good you were at skating.”

“Y’know,” he mumbled between kisses as his head dipped lower, now kissing your collarbones, “I don’t skate at all.”

“Yeah,” a small moan erupted from your lips as he gently bit at your exposed skin, his hand sliding underneath your pyjama shirt, resting on your ribcage.

“I’m gonna need something to calm me down now, my ego is bruised,” Seb said between kissing and nibbling your skin to which you couldn’t hold yourself anymore, this time much louder moan escaping your lips as you tangled in his fluffy hair, allowing him to take you right there on the couch in front of the fireplace in a wooden house in the middle of nowhere with Christmas music in the background.

[cherry3point14]

Mine: Ch1 - YOU

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Dean x Reader Warnings: Stalking, beginnings of jealous!Dean Word Count: 4,000 ish. Chapter Summary: Dean meets you. He wants to know more. A/N: At this point my feelings are UGH. I have looked at this too long!

Ao3 if you prefer

This should be my happy place. I’ve been thinking about this for like, a week. But Sam’s bitch face was never part of my plan. He’s overreacting. The line isn’t even that long, there are two tables in front of us when we park up and the line has doubled behind us. That’s not good enough for my brother though. I’m not even sure why he came, before we left he kept saying how we had food in the kitchen. Not that I’m mad about his company. It was a good two-hour drive and I got to spend it with him. It’s been a lifetime since we drove anywhere without finding someone dead at the other end. Vegas week got skipped a few years back and remains a memory. Our lives, in general, get more and more caked in blood and shit. I’m not counting or anything but we deserved a couple of normal hours on the road. Except we’re at a diner so it’s me that deserves this. Sam deserves a trip to a farmers market or something. That’s a problem for tomorrow. Although this place isn’t just a diner; that makes it sound like any other pancake house on any other highway. This is the diner. It’s a gutted gas station turned restaurant that’s the best everything in the state. A well-kept secret. Or at least it had been until the food blogs, that I definitely don’t read, got a hold of it. Now it’s full of beanie wearing douchebags taking pictures of their food, and wannabe cowboys who want to do the same. “Hey, guys. You’re looking at about a thirty-minute wait for a table. Unless you want to sit at the counter?” Her eyes dart about as she talks, between the line behind them to the people already sitting, and back again. There are two seats at the counter and the sight of them sends a shudder rolling over my shoulders. They’re in the middle of everything, of other people already sitting there and I don’t know if I want to eat that badly. Not in the next thirty minutes anyway. For how long I’ve been dreaming about this burger I don’t want to spend the entire time trying not to nudge the guy next to me. Besides those college kids with the corner table are no way going to last half an hour now that their food’s gone. Before I can say any of this Sam opens his giant mouth, “counter’s fine, thanks.” The counter is fine? The counter is anything but fine. The space is too small and I didn’t drive all this way to sit at the goddamn counter during the lunchtime rush. But he’s already taking big moon size steps over there before I get a chance to hiss my opinion at him. Son of a bitch. “You’re a traitor, you know that?” The space I’m supposed to sit in is even smaller now I’m in it. He actually looks shocked by my accusation, “what? You wanted to eat, this is the quickest way to eat.” “I wanted to enjoy my food. This isn’t just lunch, it’s a, um-” I slap my hand on the counter when the word hits me, “it’s an experience Sammy. The sort of experience I’d have liked my feet touching the floor for.” His lips curl up like I’m some sort of amusement for him, “an experience?” Crap. He’s on to me. He’s seen my browsing history. He knows that SouthernFoodGal recommended the place. “Just don’t order rabbit food, ok? Respect the process.” My hand waves in the space between us in the hopes that I can wave away his focus. It actually works. The waitress at the counter is, and this is not an exaggeration, about ninety-eight years old. She’s every road weathered, curly-haired truck stop waitress from the movies. I’m wondering if it’s a legal thing that every diner has to have one. It’s gotta be, right? It can’t be a coincidence. She smiles though, not a plastered on fake one, and she doesn’t comment on my life expectancy as I order their star burger; the heart attack. Sam doesn’t need to comment because I can see his judgment out the corner of my eye, and that’s before I order fries. At the very least he orders a chicken burger instead of salad. Hopefully, he’ll cheer up with some bread in his stomach. The place is buzzing so I’m not sure if we have total privacy or if every word we say will be broadcast. The conversation stays light then. Free of monsters and angels and demons. I get a chance to hear about a book Sam read that wasn’t lore. It’s good to let him talk like this. It reminds me that he’s ok, he’s doing ok. He’s still got this slither of a normal guy left in him as he gushes over the story; that’s enough for me to smile at. The food arrives fast, hot and before Sam has finished talking. It takes two hands to lift my burger since it’s more a stack of food rather than a meal. And yet the beast in my hands isn’t leaking grease all over me. The smell of meat and cheese hits my nose before the food reaches my tongue. All my senses band together for that first bite. “Are you kidding me?” With food swirling around my mouth I still manage a moan. Sam frowns at my plate, then me, “what?” “Look at this!” it’s all about the cross-section so waving it in his direction will surely be enough to explain. Yet Sam’s face stays blank unless you count the sneer he tries to hide, so I swallow all slow and regretfully. The food had to leave my mouth at some point I guess. “This is a work of art. Bacon’s crispy, three different type of cheese, onion rings Sammy. Don’t even get me started on the sauce. This is- shit the pickles have gotta be homemade. This was worth the drive.” That’s probably not as big a compliment as it could be considering how far we drive everywhere for everything. I know what I mean to say though. It’s been a while since I ate food that was more than just fast. This is damn good. “This is pretty good too,” Sam chimes in with much less enthusiasm. Offensively less. I’d be annoyed on behalf of the place except I take another bite and the anger in my gut fades to nothing. Eating the rest of the meal becomes a blur. I'm caught between wanting to swallow it whole and not wanting to finish it at all. Doesn't even matter that I elbowed the guy next to me twice. Too soon our elderly waitress Carol is taking my plate away before she checks her watch. “Y/N,” she shouts through the pass into the kitchen. “Can you watch the counter while I take my ten?” Apparently, it didn’t matter about the lunch rush or the line out the door, Carol was taking her ten. She’s a seasoned waitress who got our order right first time. I appreciate her enough that panic bubbles in my gut for a second. What if this Y/N person brings the wrong pie? The worry is fleeting because then the door swings open with a crash of wood on wood. The sound of your entrance is what catches my attention, you are what keeps it. You step out in your chef whites, rolled at the sleeves and an apron pinning it all at your waist. The apron giving you a figure even in your uniform. I can tell you still want to be proud of your body underneath your pulled back hair and shiny face from the heat of the kitchen. You're sporting an oversized pout, aimed in the direction of the waitress whose name I’ve forgotten by now. “Only if you tell me I’m pretty.” You are pretty. I’d tell you that. You have the kind of soft features that are pretty even if you’re not dolled up and I’m not half drunk. You’re pretty, and then you laugh at your own joke, and like that you’re beautiful. Anybody would have a hard time convincing me I’m not staring straight into the sun. Carol’s voice is scolding if not playful as she shakes her head, “yeah, pretty annoying.” You shoo her away with a waved hand before your face turns hard and serious. Even if you’re only covering for ten minutes you hold yourself like this is most important job you’ve ever had. You survey your kingdom with concern etched on that sweet little face of yours until you lock eyes with me. Quickly softening into an easy smile. Acknowledging my stare as a call for attention. You wanted to come over anyway. I only gave you an excuse. “How was the food guys?” You don’t even glance in Sam’s direction. I like this move. Sam hasn’t looked up from his phone but you don’t want to make a big deal out of coming over here for me. I get it, you don’t want to seem too eager. Which would be easier to pull off if you’d looked away from me yet. “Best burger I’ve had in months.” The smile I flash you is the charming one I reserve for women in bars. You’re not sucking down vodka though so you raise both eyebrows at my review instead. Your hands move to your hips, again bringing my focus to your waist, begging me to steal a glance at your curves. “Only the last few months?” You scoff, “not good enough. I’m taking the gold for best burger of your life or I’m taking nothing.” I would think you’re joking except you have this hard set to your face that’s deadly serious. I’m half sure you’re going to storm off and make me something else right now. It’s only when you don’t move from the spot and your lip finally twitches that a chuckle escapes me, along with a wink. “You’ll have to keep trying then, sweetheart.” Is that a blush on your cheeks, or were they that pink since you left the kitchen? “I didn’t know I had someone with such discerning taste in today or I’d have made you something special.” You have this pucker in your top lip and a flash of something in your eyes, like a fucking promise. I can see you like a challenge and maybe you also want my approval? Maybe you crave it. So, you keep trying, keep working for it, “do you trust me enough to get you something sweet?” Is it sweeter than you, I wonder? “Depends on if you have pie.” You jump back as if a jolt of electricity surged through you. You press a hand to your chest with this grand gesture of mock offense. There’s a sickly over the top southern accent too, “sir I’m offended that you think I didn’t make pie fresh this morning.” Another laugh at your own joke although I’ll be honest, I kind of like that about you already. “Apple and blueberry or cherry bourbon?” Shit. Is this the moment that I’ll remember for the rest of my life? It’s a stupid question. If I could only take one mental picture it would be you coming back from the kitchen. A sway to your hips, two plates, and one fork.

We’d talked while I ate. You'd pretended you were waiting for my critique and I wait until both slices are gone before I give you an inch. The whole time some dick at the other end of the counter is staring at you. Desperately trying to will you into noticing him because what? The asshole wants a refill or something? Being rude to wait staff is shitty enough on a normal day but he shouldn't be staring at you like that. Not that you need to worry about him. He gets a hefty and totally accidental shove on my way out that almost puts him on his ass. I’m not even sure you noticed when Carol came back because you’d stuck around. The din of the diner quietens enough that I catch the nervous hitch in your voice when you’d told me your name. “I’m Y/N by the way,” tumbles out too fast and too quiet, then you’d asked for mine in the same breath. I’d given it to you, my first name anyway. Why are you so relieved? Did you really think I wouldn’t tell you my name? It’s like you haven’t seen you. But see, here’s the thing. I’ve looked out for people before, tried to look out for people, and it’s not been enough. I’ve not been enough. Now I know what I need to do and the lengths I need to go to if I’m going to do protect people. So, checking you out is common sense. It’s a necessary evil to look after myself. You’re beautiful but I need to know if there’s more to you. There’s beautiful in every town. I need to make sure you’re worth all the effort I’m willing to go to. It’s a two-way street too. I get that. You didn’t have to trust me. It’s probably not uncommon for guys to hit on you at work and for you to give out a fake name. That makes it all the sweeter when I type your name into google and boom, there you are. Smiling so wide in your profile pictures that it makes my cheeks ache. You trusted me which begs the question, are you a little bit naive or was that really a blush? I’m nursing a glass, my third, while I moon over my laptop. I’m not normally like this. My interest in looking people up online usually limited to finding a connection between victims. I’m not a big social media guy. For you? Well, it’s a means to an end. This is how I get to see more of your story is all. Lawrence. I almost choke when I see that under ‘hometown’. You were born and raised in Lawrence. In another life, I could have already met you. We’d already be together and today was kismet fixing things on the messed up timeline we’re on. Not that I believe in that shit. Except you make me believe. The deeper I go down the Y/N rabbit hole the more it seems like you’re kind of, sort of, perfect for me. It’s such a mindless action to pour myself another drink while I scroll that it doesn’t even count as glass number four. You were living in New York until about a year ago. Then you moved to Manhattan, Kansas. There’s this picture of you in a car packed tight with boxes, sunglasses, and a big grin. The caption reads, if you can’t live in NYC, try Manhattan! You giggled to yourself while writing that no doubt, I’d stake money on it. There’s no explanation for your move but all your friends liked the post and a bunch of them chime in to say they’ll miss you. I’m interested in what brought you closer, thankful for it. I’ll have to ask you about that one day. Although it’s better that you’re out of the city anyway. “Found anything?” Sam leaves the kitchen with a glass of water in his hand. Upping his water intake is his new thing and he’s so desperately trying to get me on board. Unfortunately, I hold a deeply rooted belief that pissing that much just ain’t natural.

“What?” I snap, still distracted with images of you.

Sam must read it as suspicious because he reels his neck in as quickly as he stuck it out to start the conversation. “Dude, didn’t we talk about keeping the porn to your room?”

My shoulders relax instantly because that’s the simple answer. He thinks it’s hardcore cartoon sex scenes on my screen rather than your Facebook and Instagram. Not that I’m ashamed of you, it’s just better if I keep things under wraps for now. You’ll have to meet Sam eventually. Well, meet him more than the cursory few words you’d offered each other at the diner today. Out of his sight, one hand clicks to open a new tab in case he decides to peer over my shoulder. The fingers of my other hand drag down my face, all the better to appear dazed and confused. “No, I was looking for a case. Nothing out there.” There is something out there. You’re out there. Sam must recognize the tired eyes of someone who’s read too many news articles, though it’s actually too many comments, because he buys what I’m selling. “Guess we’ve got another snow day tomorrow. Any plans?” “Maybe.” The answer is muttered more to myself than him. He must think I’ve gone back to looking for cases. You know, instead of looking for your address.

The first time I drive out and park across the street it’s an accident. I’d been going for a drive to nowhere in particular, only looking to chase the horizon for a while. Long roads and smooth tarmac. Good music and definitely not driving to you. Not even in your direction. I hadn’t been paying attention anyway which is why the drive is so lazy and takes nearly two hours. With a little effort, I’ll get that down to an hour and a half. But again, this wasn’t planned when I first started my engine. If I had planned it I’d have definitely brought more beer. Your quiet little suburb is cute but not nice enough that it’ll break your heart to leave it behind. You live in this one story townhouse and it’s fine. It’s ok. It’s big enough for one person but it’s not a family home or anything. I can practically see your loneliness behind the blue paint on your front door. Your car is, well, I’ll take care of that at some point. It’s a Prius for one thing, and it’s too old to be a good car and too modern to be a classic. Thinking about it you might not even need a car. I can drive you wherever. These are all things I didn’t plan to see or notice, the first time anyway. Because the first time I’m looking at your house I can’t stop asking myself why the bay window doesn’t have blinds. What are you thinking Y/N? This area might seem nice and safe but really, anybody could pull up and watch you. You don’t need to worry about it while I’m outside but I’m not always here; I haven’t always been here. Don’t think I’ll forget about this either, the question is filed away for when I can ask it properly. A conversation for another day. It’s careless is what it is. How can I look after you if you won’t look after yourself? The clear glass does mean I can see you, luckily. You make a mug of something warm to drink while you watch a video on your laptop. Whatever it is makes you throw your head back with laughter until your back hits the sofa behind you. It's a carefree moment that I get to share with you. It's the sort of thing I need to see. These little private moments that show me who you are in a way your Instagram won’t. But it’s the second time I’m outside your house, that’s far more eventful. You haven’t been home from work for long. All you’ve managed is to turn on some music and start singing along while you run a vacuum around the place. My grin is about to damn near break my face watching you. Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end. Everything stops suddenly and then you pick up your phone. That should be explanation enough, a phone call. Except you don’t answer it immediately. You frown at the thing in your hand and my fingers clench the steering wheel a little tighter. Whoever is on the phone burst the bubble we were both living in and I don't appreciate it. You’re all stiff movements and tight lips as you answer. The caller has turned you into a bitter version of yourself. Sweeping anger replaces any happiness you held onto as you storm out of the house. You’re so distracted that you get halfway to your car before you have to backtrack and lock your door. Really, Y/N? No, I don’t blame you. I blame whoever was on the end of that call, they did this to you. They made you careless. The only answers I’ll get are by following you, which at this point is easy enough. It’s early evening and there are enough other cars on the road to hide behind once we make it out of suburbia. It’s a bar you finally pull into. A dive by the looks of it. I can tell that much before I’ve caught up with you. Call it a special skill of mine to recognize bars like this. I’m caught across the street, waiting to cross traffic on a surprisingly busy road. Even from this distance, I see you screech to a halt at the front of the shitty parking lot. Apparently, you haven’t calmed down yet and looking over at the entrance to the bar it’s easy to see why. The sun has barely gone down. It’s not even 6pm. And there’s this guy wandering towards your car with the gait of someone who’s drunk as sin. Each step he takes is another rev of my foot on the gas where I’m trying to get to you. The guy isn’t huge or anything but he’s still bigger than you. He’s bigger and drunk and why isn’t there a fucking gap in this traffic? Finally, I swerve through a gap that isn’t really a gap to the outrage of some dick honking his horn. Not that the noise distracts you or the deadbeat. You stomp towards him with a slam of your drivers' side door and he calls out at the sight of you, “baby, I knew you’d come get me!” He falls in your direction and lands with his mouth on yours, his hands pawing at you. And you might push at his chest but it’s not urgent or defenseless. It’s exasperated. It’s so that you can swipe at his chest and berate him, “get in the car before I change my mind.” What the fuck Y/N? Who is this asshole?

Continue to Chapter 2

5eva tags: @divadinag @darthdeziewok @fluentinfiction @witch-of-letters @supernatural-teamfreewillpage Dean babes: @thewinchesterchronicles @akshi8278

[juuneaux]

Free and Full

Of Emotion — A Review of Captain Marvel

SPOILERS AHEAD

Captain Marvel is, in the simplest of terms, iconic. It’s titular character, Carol Danvers, is a powerhouse addition to the MCU and the satisfying result of something a long time coming. Brie Larson is a joy to watch, there are delightful cameos sprinkled throughout, and don’t get me started on the cat, he practically steals the show. The movie as a whole is everything fans of her comic have been waiting for and promises an exciting tie in to next month’s highly anticipated Avengers Endgame. Without putting too fine a point on it, Carol Danvers kicks ass. She is strong, she is funny, and she is powerful like almost no other character we have seen.

Most satisfying of all, she is never objectified or sexualized. There are no leering, slow motion shots panning across her body, her suit is practical and no different from that of her male counterparts. She has no love interest and isn’t forced into a tedious “will they won’t they” plot. Carol’s defining trait is her humanity.

Perhaps most interesting is that she is fully rounded from the moment we meet her. She is already well on her way to being Captain Marvel when the story begins. Her journey is not that dissimilar to that of Thor’s in his introductory film, she has her powers, she has her suit, and her journey begins from there. Her origin happens largely in flashback and exposition, so we don’t spend the movie watching her go from bright eyed recruit to jaded veteran as one might expect from an origin story. Carol is more or less the same person at the end of the movie that she was when she began, she never loses faith and she isn’t forced to lose a part of herself along the course of her journey in order to grow, and that’s oddly refreshing.

Though a stranger to earth, it is never a handicap in Carol’s place. She isn’t made to look helpless or bumbling as she sprints through 90s Los Angeles, “dressed for laser tag” and with a young Agent Fury tailing after her.

Captain Marvel treats its heroine with respect and gracefully circumnavigates the treacherous territory strong female characters often fall into. Yes, she is tough, she is outspoken, and headstrong, but balancing all of those perhaps now cliche traits grafted onto strong female characters, Carol is allowed to have a wide range of emotion and is never compromised by it. She is sad, she is angry, she is confused, and yet she remains in control.

On paper this doesn’t sound much like something to strive for, but historically a woman characterized as such can often fall into the trope of the Hysterical Woman.

It is something strikingly prevalent in media that a strong woman must stifle her emotions in order to make her power valid. If not, she is depicted as irrational, less disciplined, unstable, and thus prone to mood swings and violent overreactions. A woman with great power and strong emotions is volatile, dangerous, unstable. As much can be seen in X-Men’s depiction of Jean Grey as she struggles to maintain dominance over her alter ego as the Phoenix. Time and again, she is warned that she needs to learn to control what she has, for the sake of those around her as much as herself. She is told she is dangerous. With bursts of emotion come bursts of power and then the accompanying fear of that power, built on a bedrock of the warnings she receives from her peers and mentors; control yourself, they tell her, until of course, they need the beast, then it’s ‘let go, Jean’. With that kind of back and forth it is almost no wonder she becomes unhinged. She is made out to be the villain, turned to the dark side, fighting against her friends who try and save her soul until the defining moment when in a burst of high emotion someone is killed, a friend, a loved one.

Captain Marvel does not even bat an eye in the direction of this trope, and to put it frankly, Carol Danvers don’t fuck with that.

Yon Rogg, her Kree mentor played by Jude Law, tells Carol throughout to control herself, get a handle on her emotions, use her head not her heart, and Carol meets his demands with quips and humor typically reserved for characters like Tony Stark and Peter Quill. She, unlike Jean Grey, is never made to struggle with the burden of controlling herself, despite the warnings. As she is often reminded “what has been given can be taken away” Carol isn’t worried, because she as a character has been allowed to have the confidence that even without this incredible power, she can still pretty much kick anyone’s ass. Like Tony Stark without his suit, Carol knows what she’s about and what she is capable of, even when she doesn’t know who she’s meant to be. She wields her power with joy and with anger and without worry, and for that she is made free in a way that most “strong female characters” these days are not.

Even in the climax, when the gloves are off, Law’s character continues to warn her of her emotions. Carol, unchanged and empowered by the knowledge of who she is and what she’s meant to do with her power, owns and trusts her emotion still and uses them to spectacularly vanquish Yon Rogg when he reverts to his old tactics of patriarchal rhetoric and attempts to goad her into one more fight.

“I have nothing to prove to you.” She says, standing tall over her former mentor, a man who lied to and manipulated her for years, knowing the truth of those words there in the end as well ae she did at the beginning. That right there is power in its own right.

Never does the film downplay any aspect of Carol’s personality in order to make her more likable for male audience members. We are expected to take Carol as she is, and as a woman who often struggles with how big her emotions can be, it’s empowering to see Marvel didn’t try to stifle hers.

Bolstered by themes of humanity, the desperation of refugees fleeing unending war, and the closeness of a found family, the film succeeds at being not only iconic, but entirely relevant without beating you over the head with its messages. Tie that to its soundtrack filled with nostalgic bops including the likes of No Doubt, Alanis Morissette, and TLC, and Captain Marvel boasts a brand of 90s girl power that is guaranteed to rouse your inner magical girl like nothing else out there. Do yourself a favor and go see Captain Marvel.

[appro880]

Tribute to a Queen!

Diahann Carroll, Pioneering Actress on 'Julia' and 'Dynasty,' Dies at 84 

Pioneering and Oscar-nominated actress Diahann Carroll, who broke network television's color line, died Friday after a bout with cancer, her daughter said.

She was 84.

"Carroll was a consummate entertainer and beloved icon whose career spanned nearly seven decades," her daughter, Suzanne Kay, said in a statement. "She paved the way for many and never allowed anyone to limit or define her."

Carroll was the star of "Julia" which ran for 86 episodes on NBC between 1968 and 1971. She played a nurse named Julia Baker who was raising a young son on her own following the death of her serviceman husband in the Vietnam War.

It was a groundbreaking show, marking the first time an African American was cast as the star of a show in a role other than that of a servant.

There had been other black actors on scripted TV before, most notably Ethel Waters as the star of "Bulah," which ran for 78 episodes between 1950 and 1953 on ABC. Waters played a maid in the comedy.

And on "Star Trek," Nichelle Nichols' Lt. Uhura was the Enterprise's chief communications officer, though she was still in a supporting role to William Shatner's Capt. Kirk, Leonard Nimoy's Mr. Spock and DeForest Kelley's Dr. McCoy.

Carroll said she embraced her lead "Julia" character because she stood out as a self-sufficient, confident African American woman.

"There was nothing like this young successful mother on the air," Carroll once told PBS. "And we thought that it might be a very good stepping stone."

The show had some critics who believed it didn't realistically show the daunting social and economic struggles African Americans faced at the time.

“They said it was a fantasy,” Carroll recalled in 1998. “All of this was untrue. Much about the character of Julia I took from my own life, my family.”

But even in the time of her show, Carroll worried out loud if a "superhuman" African American character might obscure the daily struggles faced by the black community.

“For a hundred years we have been prevented from seeing accurate images of ourselves and we’re all overconcerned and overreacting,” she told TV Guide in a December 1968 cover story.

“The needs of the white writer go to the superhuman being. At the moment, we are presenting the white Negro. And he has very little Negro-ness.”

he won a Tony Award, in 1962 for best actress in a musical, for "No Strings."

In 1974, Carroll was nominated for the Oscar for best actress, for her work in "Claudine." The top honor that year went to Ellen Burstyn for "Alice Doesn't Live Here Anymore."

She was inducted into the TV academy's Hall of Fame in 2011 in honor of her television career that included four Emmy nominations for work in ABC's "Grey's Anatomy" and NBC's "A Different World."

Generation X television fans might know Carroll best for her work on "Dynasty," the long-running prime-time soap opera.

In 74 episodes of the show, Carroll played the glamorous Dominique Deveraux, a half-sister of family patriarch Blake Carrington. Her battles, even physical tussles, with Blake's scheming ex-wife Alexis Carrington, played by Joan Collins, were among the favorite scenes of "Dynasty" fans.

"Diahann Carroll walked this earth for 84 years and broke ground with every footstep. An icon. One of the all-time greats," Oscar-nominated director Ava DuVernay wrote on Twitter. "She blazed trails through dense forests and elegantly left diamonds along the path for the rest of us to follow. Extraordinary life. Thank you, Ms. Carroll."

New York native Carroll was born Carol Diann Johnson in the Bronx on July 17, 1935, and raised in Harlem by her subway conductor father and homemaker mom. She attended New York City's famed High School for the Performing Arts.

Actress Debbie Allen, a star of both the big screen and TV versions of "Fame," about the performing arts high school, said artists will sing Carroll's praises "forever."

"Diahann Carroll you taught us so much," Allen wrote on Twitter. "We are stronger, more beautiful and risk takers because of you. We will forever sing your praises and speak your name."

The 6-foot-tall beauty became a model for Ebony magazine at age 15 before her stage, TV and movie career took off.

She was married four times, to talent manager and music producer Monte Kay, retailer Fred Glusman, editor Robert DeLeon and singer Vic Damone.

Carroll is survived by her daughter, Kay, and grandchildren, August and Sydney.