#dolly sorry it's a bit longer and more spiteful than i expected it to be

[manderleyfire]

hey, ali! i feel your pain about the tbosas adaptation! i cried so much during the movie but not because i felt emotional, seeing MY book comes alive on screen but because we were robbbbbbbbbbed and shot 😞😞😞😞😞😞 anyways, what's your opinion on the music tho? fav/least fav song? (my is the oldtherebefore and least fav the 0livia r0drigo's one)

hey, lollis!

‘robbed and shot’, exactly. i couldn’t have said it better myself because unfortunately, that’s spot on 🥲

I LOVED THE MUSIC! a dystopian reflection of our reality through intentional use of folk/bluegrass music is something that resonates strongly with me. i mean, they knew how to strike the right chord in the hearts of book readers for sure! *the only other thing i wish was different about the music it's the variety of tempo and rhythm because as much as i LOVED the unified sound of LG's songs, i would prefer each song to have its own individual tune and ~aura)

my absolute favourite adaptation that they did was 'nothing you can take from me' (boot-stompin’ version); i am utterly in awe of the powerful passionate energy that they gave to this song?? also i loveeed the similarity of rhythm and tone between 'nothing you can take from me' and a traditional american folk song 'man of constant sorrow', i kinda feel it was a deliberate parallel which worked just great. (also i’m glad they added maude ivory’s 'keep on the sunny side'!)

my least favourite is perhaps 'the ballad of lucy gray baird'?.. and though i did enjoy rachel’s rendition (she copies a young dolly parton in such a warm-hearted respectful manner!), and the respect for traditional appalachian music, she sang it in a cheerful 'to hell with you!' manner which is less intense and intimate that i remember it from the book to be? to quote tbosas here: 'the haunting melody set the tone, and her words did the rest as she began to sing in a voice husky from smoke and sadness' – the movie version really failed to capture both the haunting tune (their version doesn't really tell the story musically because of a major key) and the lucy gray's vulnerability here for me. in the book she did what carrie fisher told us all to do: 'take your broken heart and turn it into art' while in the movie she isn't even angry at billy taupe?? like his betrayal (and her place in the games) is not a big deal? she's openly rebellious and sassy with out of place 'i need no man' attitude and that simply didn't work for me personally.

it took some time for 'pure as the driven snow' to grow on me (i expected it to be more of a waltz-like, similar to maiah wynne's cover), but i'm coming around to it. yet… i wish it was STAGED differently??? they had to combine certain scenes and songs in the film but it was such a SURREAL idea to meld PATDS with 'sell you for a song' setting? and it took away so much from that moment of love and connection and unconditional acceptance, where lucy gray is finally ready to be emotionally unshielded in front of her lover (maybe for the first time ever)?? it was a PIVOTAL snowbaird moment but they needed to blend two songs together because obviously PATDS can't be love confession in form of a song because it should be taken as an ominous warning instead (duh!). 'bitch you better not turn out to be a bad guy even tho i knew you were a villain all along' :??? and it could've worked in its own angst-y way, if there had been any development in snowbaird love story?? but since movie!they are full on survival the whole time (there's no canonical teetering on the edge of an actual fondness/love and survival instinct), PATDS makes no sense at all. so… i extremely frustrated by the use of PATDS on screen but at the same time i love the sound of the full version on the soundtrack album.

annnd i'm actually IN PAIN because they had the audacity to leave so many songs out?? especially given their ties to the original trilogy?? 'deep in the meadow' aka rue's song???? 'the valley song' aka the one peeta mentioned seeing katniss sing at school when they were children????  the festive 'crawling to you' ('that thing i love with') likely performed at finnick’s wedding?? idk maybe it's a musical nerd who is speaking in me but i wish they could have included more of the book songs at least on the album, if not in the actual movie (even tho i'm still sure, it would've been possible to present the whole complexity of this book AND its poetic side too, if they decided to split the film in two).

[the score album wasn't much to talk about but 'snow lands on top' piece tho… vivid, striking, remarkable]

[quinnybee-writes]

Title: Fire Meet Gasoline

Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia/My Hero Academia

Rating: T+

Part: 2/?

Story Summary: A chance encounter between a villain and vigilante leads to an unwise deal made between unlikely allies; an unwise deal made between unlikely allies ends in a final stand neither would have ever dared to take on alone. Together, though, they just might have a fighting chance.

Part 2 Summary: Civilian life gets a bit more uncivil as far-flung paths start to cross.

Part 1 on  Tumblr / AO3

Part 2 on AO3

Hizashi pushed himself to the edge of his limit, legs pumping and chest burning for breath as he ran. His end goal was in sight, clear as day in from of him, but even as he closed in on it, it seemed impossibly far away.

“One twenty-eight point nine. You’re keeping a good pace with yourself,” Haruko announced, clicking the button on her stopwatch.

Hizashi staggered to a stop, hands behind his head as he caught his breath. “Dammit,” he muttered. His sister might have been impressed by his consistency but the lack of progress was frustrating. He didn’t want to admit it, but that vigilante from the other night had him rattled. Hizashi was used to outfoxing people bound by regulations that kept them and everyone around them safe but tied their hands when it came to someone like him. The vigilante, however, could meet him on an even playing field and was faster, more agile, and unflinchingly tenacious. Hizashi had to admit he was almost excited to meet up with the vigilante again for the thrill of it, but he was aware that his last escape had been more blind luck than skill. He was going to have to step up his own game monumentally to keep one step ahead.

“C’mon, Zash, don’t get yourself down,” Haru said, reaching up to ruffle his hair. “Even if you are plateauing, it’s at a good place. There’s no glory in ripping yourself apart for a couple extra seconds.”

Hizashi sighed but nodded, knowing she was right. He was about to say he was ready to reset and go again when there was a flurry of movement and chatter outside the training room door.

“What in the world?” Haru muttered, sticking her head out into the hall. “Hey, Megumi, what gives?” she asked, waving down one of the other trainers as they passed by.

“Some guy’s showing off in the parkour room,” Megumi replied with a shrug.

“Oh. It is about that time, isn’t it?” Haru said, checking her watch.

“What’s going on?” Hizashi asked, intrigued in spite of himself. Haru grinned at him.

“We’re being haunted,” she said by way of non-explanation. When he just stared back at her blankly Haru laughed and nodded down the hall. “C’mon, we’ll take a break and I’ll show you.”

They followed the trickle of people to a large plate glass window that overlooked another larger training room. The room was entirely taken up by a huge foam-and-plywood climbing structure full of sheer walls, sharp drops, and metal chin-up bars stuck in at odd angles. Making an impressive run of the place was a broad-shouldered man in all black workout gear, his dark hair in a short tangled ponytail at the back of his neck. It wasn’t until the man did an impressive leap over a waist-height wall that ended in a rolling landing back on his feet and almost immediately pressed a hand to the left side of his chest with a grimace that Hizashi recognized the vigilante from a few nights ago.

“Who is that?” he asked, trying to keep the question casual.

“No idea,” Haru shrugged. “Dude’s a machine, though. Every Tuesday, Wednesday, and Friday he swipes himself in at four, does a few miles on the suspended track, and then tears it up on the parkour course for an hour and a half. Swipes himself out at six-thirty like clockwork. Never talks to anyone, never rents a locker, no-nothing. If he’s got a name hell if any of us know what it is. We just call him The Ghost.”

“Huh.” Hizashi smirked a little to himself, watching as the vigilante squared his shoulders and began his run again. The man kept an impressively low profile for someone so notorious. Hizashi wondered if he could find a way to sneak into the gym’s registration logs and put a name to the face after all. His musing was interrupted by Haru holding up her water bottle under his nose and giving it a proffering waggle. “I’m good, thanks,” Hizashi said, shaking his head.

“You sure? You were looking a little thirsty,” Haru said, grinning.

Hizashi glowered at her, snatching the bottle out of her hand and squirting her in the face with it. “Hardy-har. Asshole,” he muttered. Haru just laughed.

“All right, break time’s over, slacker. You still owe me four more shuttle runs and a round on the weight machines,” she said, using the hem of Hizashi’s teeshirt to dry her face off.

Hizashi groaned. “I’m telling Mom,” he whined as they turned away from the window and headed back to the training room.

“It’d be the first time you called her in, like, four months, so.” Haru shrugged. “I’ll take what I can get at this point.”

Hizashi grimaced, the casual disappointment in her voice scraping him raw. “Way to kick me when I’m down, Haru,” he said.

Haru sighed, mouth twisting into a half-apologetic frown. “Look, Zash. We both know you get up to some shit that you don’t want the rest of us involved in and that’s fine. It’s not fine,” she corrected herself, “but it’s fine. It’s just. Knowing that and having you fall off the planet for months at a time...kinda freaks me out, y’know? I’m not saying you have to check in every hour on the hour or anything but more often than Christmas, New Years, and birthdays wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.”

“Yeah, I get it,” Hizashi muttered. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, just keep it in mind, okay?” Haru said. She wrapped an arm around his shoulders in a hug made that much tighter by her Quirk, punctuated with an encouraging smack on the back. “Now c’mon, gloomy gills. You hired me to kick your ass, so I’m gonna.”

By the third delivery of the morning Shouta was regretting not calling in again. He’d pushed himself too hard trying to get back into his normal gym routine and every inch of him was letting him know it. He slid a box of audio equipment onto a dolly, sharp little spikes of pain shooting through his back and side as he did, and wheeled it up to the radio station’s front door. Just five more hours, he reminded himself. He’d worked much longer delivery shifts in much worse condition than this. Just five more hours.

There was nobody at the station’s reception desk. Shouta sighed, shoulders sagging. He wondered if he was going to have to figure out how their paging system worked and call the package’s addressee himself. It wouldn’t be the first time, but it was always a procedural nightmare if someone got up in arms about a non-employee using their phones and decided to give his boss an earful for it.

Luckily for him there came the sound of a half-whispered swear word followed by racing footsteps from down the hall. What looked like a very embarrassed intern rushed forward with a sunny “HicanIhelpyou?”, running the words together as they dropped into the chair behind the desk and practically threw their phone and coffee mug out of sight. Their name tag said “Chiyaki” and the look on their face said “please for the love of god don’t tell my boss”.

“Solo-Falcon Deliveries, I’ve got a package for...Hizashi Yamada,” Shouta said, double-checking the name on the delivery slip.

“Okay, one sec,” Chiyaki said brightly. They pushed a speed-dial extension on the phone bank next to them. It only rang once before someone picked up.

“Yah-mada.” The voice on the other end was sing-song and familiar in a way Shouta couldn’t quite put his finger on.

“Heya, boss,” Chiyaki said. “The new presentation mics are here, the delivery guy needs you to sign for them.”

“Great timing, I was just about to start boxing up the old ones! Be right there.” The voice on the other end was suddenly louder, clearer, and sounded like it was coming from just over Shouta’s shoulder. Shouta’s breath seized in his chest and his head snapped around, fully expecting to see Mockingbird standing smirking right behind him. The station lobby was completely empty other than himself, the intern, and the box he was supposed to be delivering. When Shouta turned back around Chiyaki was smiling sympathetically at him.

“He does that,” they said apologetically. “It should just be a minute.”

Shouta nodded, taken aback by their total nonchalance. He supposed it made a certain kind of sense for Mockingbird to use his Quirk as a party trick and condition the people around him not to notice it. He didn’t have much time to mull over the logistics of that, however, as a lanky figure loped its way up from the back of the station. The man perked up as he caught sight of Shouta, a grin of recognition spreading across his face.

“Oh, hey, bus stop guy!” Mockingbird said cheerfully.

Shouta blinked, momentarily confused before the words clicked into place. Bus stop, right. This was the same man he’d badgered at the bus stop in front of his apartment building the morning after his bout with Mockingbird; same long blond ponytail, same horn-rim glasses, same lanky frame and broad grin with an almost imperceptible air of smugness to it. Clever, Shouta thought ruefully.

“Solo-Falcon Deliveries,” Shouta said tonelessly, offering the clipboard to sign.

“Right, right. So, didja end up finding who you were looking for?” Mockingbird--Yamada--whoever he was asked as he dug in his pocket for his stamp.

Shouta’s eyes narrowed. “Yeah,” he said. “I think I might have.”

Yamada glanced over the clipboard at him and his cheerful expression sharpened just slightly. “Lucky you,” he said. “But more importantly lucky me,” he added, sinking back into breezy affability as he scooped up the box of equipment. “Papa needs a new podcasting setup!” He cuddled the box to his chest, rubbing his cheek against it affectionately. “Chii, I’ll be back doing teardown if anyone needs me,” he said before turning on his heel and ambling back the way he’d come.

Chiyaki watched him go, then turned back to Shouta. “I can take that,” they said, holding out a hand for the yellow carbon copy of the delivery sheet Yamada had abandoned on the clipboard. “Do you want some coffee or something?” they added.

Shouta shook his head, slowly unclenching from the full-body knot he’d stiffened into the moment Yamada had smirked at him. “No. Thanks anyway,” he said. He grabbed the handle of the dolly tightly to cover his shaking hands and turned it towards the door.

“Have a good one,” Chiyaki said.

Shouta muttered a half-coherent reply, his brain already in a hundred other places. He shouldered open the station door and walked stiff-legged out to his truck to finish his shift. Just five more hours.