#making fun of wigs and costumes at their big ass ages

[low-budget-korra]

Comments on Netflix's Avatar The Last Airbender

*spoiler alert*

First of all I'm gonna start by saying it is one of the best adaptations I've seen so far. And that's the key word, adaptation. I've seen a lot of fans and others complain about some things that honestly, doesn't make sense because some things only work in a cartoon(just as much as some things only work in a book or a video game)

And before I start to talk about some topics that I judge important, I also wanna say that the production is fantastic, from the costumes to the CGI. It all looks amazing. (A part from Yue's wig)

1. The Script

It's not easy to pick 20+ episodes and make it fit in only 8 but damn they did a hell of a good job, especially when judging what was important to show and what they could let it go. Some fans commented that since there's no fillers, the Gaang and others miss some development but I think that for the universe of the live action what we got here it worked.

I can express how much I like to see Ozai and Azula's relationship and how it is now clear that he uses the siblings against each other, manipulating them to get what he wants. But I will admit I miss the fear Azula had, since it's implied in the show and some extras that she does fear Ozai, and fears becoming like Zuko.

I hope the 41. Is just fine after the battle in the north. See all of them bowing to Zuko after discovering that Zuko was the one that saved their asses and was heavily punished by that...it was beautiful. I loved the writers did that, give names and faces to Zuko's crew and a beautiful yet sad arc when Ozai banished his son and the men who he saved.

I also loved that they put weight into things that was treated as a joke, like Katara talking about her mother. She was a little kid who saw her mom get murdered in front of her and the live action made sure to let us know that it is not okay to make jokes about something so traumatic. All of the deaths here have tons of weight in it, it's not some random person, is someone we met, someone we liked, someone who helped. The costs of the war, something the cartoon manages to show us but know in live action, with real people, the massage gets stronger.

And they didn't forget Iroh's past like the fandom does, which is great. That actor, the earthbending soldier really let it all out, that's how you use the few screentime you have.

Sokka's isn't sexist and y'all were making a storm outta a cup of water, is not like Sokka sexist didn't go away after like the 4 or 5 episode in the original show. I think the live action was able to bring more depth to him in comparison to the first season of the cartoon. We see how he feels about his father's, the absence of him and his duty as warrior who kinda doesn't want to be a warrior.

I need a Gyatso in my life, I didn't know I needed to see more of him until the live action gave us more of him. Kyoshi was the Thor coming to Wakanda from this season, WHY THE FUCK BRYKE DONT WANNA GIVE US A KYOSHI SERIES? She is absolutely a jewel of a character. Roku and Kuruk, damn poor Kuruk man, so much pain in his words but again that's what it means to be the Avatar, it's not fun and games. Zhao saying to Aang what Korra villains said to Korra😭 that the world doesn't need the Avatar anymore, it hurt.

Guys I'm gonna say it, there's no way in hell for anyone to ship Kataang here. I'm saying this because some shippers complain that the secret tunnel part was different but c'mon, look at Kiawentiio and look at Gordon, it would be so s awkward and weird and just wrong. I know they don't have a big age difference, is only like 3 years but when they filmed Gordon looked so much younger than her, maybe in the next seasons the difference won't be that big.

The pace is good, once you start you don't wanna stop.

2. The Acting

Everyone is really good at capturing the essence of it's characters and somewhat making them their own. The highlights for me were Dallas and Ian, Its like they came straight from the show. Ken Leung's Zhao was also amazing as he was way more threatening here than he was in the show.

Kiawentiio was the Katara we were looking for, she is kind yet strong, brave and caring. And Gordon was Aang, sure, he has to learn a few things since he slipped a few times in his acting but nothing that could ruin the experience, that kid is good and just needs some experience.

Elizabeth Yu was Azula. It was different but yet the same character, is like learning something new of her and I like how cleared she show emotions with her eyes. Maria Zhang had great chemistry with Ian and I can't wait to see more of Suki. Arden Cho and Yvonne Chapman as June and Avatar Kyoshi look like they came out straight from the cartoon. Daniel Dae Kim...man is Ozai, so cold, so sharp, so scary, already way better than the cartoon version. I wanna see more of Paul Sun-Hyung Lee as Iroh since the character he really starts to shine in book 2.

3. The live action doesn't have the spirit of the OG?

Yes, it does have. The thing is now that we are seeing real people, things get dark one way or another but I don't think it ruined the spirit of the show. Aang is still a kid, Sokka still making sarcastic jokes, Zuko still annoying as hell, Katara still hopeful and strong... There's everything there really.

The thing is stuff like genocide, murder, war, death and suffering are, for some people, better to watch as pixels in a cartoon than real people.

I think it's a great adaptation and I would recommend it to every fan.

[twigg96]

Tag Game: Ten True Facts About Me

Rules: Share 10 facts about yourself and tag other blogs! I want to get to know my mutuals, and the people I follow a little bit :) The facts can be about anything!

Tagged by: the lovely @ir0n-moon thank you so much my dear 💕💕

1. I used to be big into cosplay. I used to hand make cosplay costumes, props, and once even attempted to make a wig. I have only ever been to a few conventions but I miss the community I used to share with fellow cosplayers pre-Covid.

2. I had an Anime Amino if anyone remembers that app. This was back during an age before discord. Back during the time I took a break from Tumblr (2015-17? Maybe) I started on Amino to look for community and friendship during a time I felt like I had none. Amino was literally just a mix of Tumblr with random blogs and discord with its chat rooms option. People mostly used it for RPs and other community events. It was a great time honestly kinda sad they killed the site.

3. I love weird ass music. I’m not talking like “oh that new album by famous artist with a weird name” no! I’m talking music that will make normal people run screaming into the next room. Give me remixed pirate/Viking songs all day long. You don’t even have to remix them. I’ll take them as is if you’re feeling spicy. Heavy metal versions of songs that have no right being metal (Disney songs, pop songs, country). 🤤. Those artists are doing gods work. Random 80’s songs. The sluttiest dirtiest music you can think of. Jazz. All of it man I love all of it as long as it’s weird.

4. My very first fan fiction was written on fan fiction.net. I used to have two accounts it was because I forgot my password for the first one but then I used the second account more than the first so it all worked out. I kinda want to archive the stuff from those accounts onto AO3 even though I’m not in those fandoms anymore. Just so I have the content.

5. My first ever crushes were on Shego and Kim Possible from said show. I didn’t know how to verbalize this as a kid so I told everyone I loved Justin Timberlake from *NSYNC.

6. I’ve been thinking about publishing a few books. I have some ideas for a few novels, series, and kids books. I just don’t know where to start or even if they’re worth while.

7. I have two dogs and two cats! My puppies names are Maizy and Chihiro. They are both Labs and are just the cutest angel babies! My cats are Eevee and Oreo. Eevee is chunk rescue baby. Oreo is our prissy princess who needs to be held at all times.

8. I have never once reset one of my animal crossing villages. I’ve had three on three different games. Game Cube, DS, and Switch. I always do my best to name the village perfectly , I would do anything in my power to have the perfect neighborhood/ villagers, I would even piss off Mr. resetti back when he was a thing just to get a second chance to try an interaction again.

9. I’m thinking about starting to stream on Twitch. Nothing too serious. Just something fun that I can try to do!

10. I am a huge collector. I collect many things lol old books, (first editions, cool instructional books, books published earlier than 1955, All the Stephen King novels), ART! I love art. All of it. Prints from artists I buy from. Hand made pieces I randomly find at art fairs and craft shows, paintings, those mystery boxes that hold figurines in them I fucking love them so god damned much.

I think I’ll tag @nsfwitchy, @normanblowup, @morbid-pigeon, @el-michoacano, @gointothevvater, @gogomeaty,

[belovedholland]

Would you write something with reader dressing up as jessica rabbit for a halloween party and she goes to show it to tom, but Harrison is also dare and he stares a little way too long at your costume and tom gets really jealous and clingy the whole night?

Love this idea!

Jessica Rabbit

pairing: Tom x reader

w/c: 0.7k

warning: alcohol, mention of sex

Halloween is a great holdiday for all ages. Kids go trick or treating alongside their friends. Aldults and elders can watch their kids and grandkids have fun, and open the door for all the small kids. And young adults, can go out to parties and get drunk.

And that is exactly what you and Tom had planned for Halloween. Go to a party with friends, and get drunk as shit.

Tom had been invited to a halloween party tonight by some of his friends. Tom told you about the party, and asked you to go with him, which you were more than excited to do.

It was a halloween costume party. You had gone out with a good friend of yours a couple days ago, and helped you find something, as well as something for her, since she had also been invited to the party.

You had brought everything you needed. Tom had begged to know what you were wearing, but you wouldn't tell him, even tho he told you what he was going as.

Harry had the great idea, that Tom should go as Marty McFly from Back To The Future, because of the deepfake scene that had been made with him and Robert. So that was what he went as, his hair to the other side then normal, beige trousers, a shirt and a jacket that looked close enough.

He had been ready for an hour, and waited for you in the living room with the boys, confussed about what took so long. They weren't going anywhere, they would just watch a couple of scary movies, and eat.

"I'm comming now!" All eyes turned to the doorway,  and Tom arubtly stood up excited to see you.

And in trough the doorway you came, dressed as Jessica Rabbit. First thing Tom noticed was the red sparkling dress, it layed beautifully on you, tight on your chest all the way down to your hips, showing off the curves of your body.

The top of the dress didn't go as high up as Tom would have liked, it didn't leave much to the imagination. The dress had a long split down your left leg, that went all the way up your thigh, only just hiding your underwear, that Tom later would find out was a black lace thong.

You were in a pair of high red stilletos, that Tom would imagine would hurt to walk in. You had long blue gloves on that matched the blue eyeshadow. Your lips were the same bright red as the dress and shoes.

And lastly you had a ginger wig on, that was styled with a big swoupe. You looked exactly like Jessica Rabbit, maybe a little too much like her.

"Damn." You hear Harrison say.

You do a couple of turns, showing how the dress swings, and your whole bare back, the dress starting just above your ass, that looked very nice.

"You look very good." Tom saw Harrison looking you up and down, way too much for his liking.

"Yeah well it's not for you!" Tom shouts, and hugs you close trying to cover you up a bit, making Tuwaine burst out into laughter.

It was fun standing next to Tom, cause the feels made you taller. So when Tom was hugging, you looked over his head, and silently laughed along wirh Tuwaine, which made Harry laugh.

"Love, you look beautiful, but don't you think it's a bit much?."

"No, I don't think it's a lot."

"Well it's showing a lot."

"Well if you are scared that someone will try and steal me from you, you better show everyone that I'm yours." You said and kissed him.

"Yeah, well lets go."

Tom made sure everone knew who you came with, and that you were his. Every time someone walked up to you - or at least when guys did -, he came up behind you, and hugged you close.

Tom was glued to your side the entire night, his arm around your body or kissing you non stop. And when it came to dancing, either you were facing each other, and his hands were on your ass, or your back was on his chest, his hand on your hips, as your ass was pushed against him.

At the end of the night you were both compleatly drunk. When you were about to leave, drunk Tom stood up on a table, and yelled out that he was going to take you home to have sex with you, just to make sure everyone knew you were his.

—

Taglist

@ladykxxx08 - @spideyspeaches - @whoeveniskendall - @lovehollandy12 - @hi-hihi-hi - @petprker - @thenoddingbunny-blog - @joselyn001 - @bi-lmg07 - @marajillana - @writesforholland - @spideymix - @sweetpeterparker - @itscaminow

[queerchoicesblog]

Living The Dream

So, folks: as announced, here the first chapter of a new story for the wlw writing project I embarked on. This one is set in the Sixties, the golden age of travel, and our main character is a Pan Am stewardess, one of the era’s most stylish job. I had fun writing this and I can only hope you will have too reading this!

Hope you enjoy it: if you do, please consider spreading the word! 

__________________________

I like this time of the day. The in-between hours separating one day from another, the slow yet inexorable metamorphosis of night into dawn. Life seems to flow differently during these hours as if our bodies, used to be heavenly asleep when night comes, were forced to adapt to a new rhythm: sometimes it works, sometimes it's simply a poor mimicry of ourselves. The craziest scene happen during night shifts, after all, and I'm sure it's no coincidence. I'm not always lucky to be present to myself in moments like these. Most of the times I'm too busy to pay attention to the wonders of these dreamlike hours. I blow out the smoke of my cigarette: for once, I can. Sitting at a table on the cafe terrace, I look down to the stream of passengers moving beneath me. They wander like in a haze trying to make out the right direction to go. They're tired, jet-lagged: a kid is crying his heart out in the arms of his mother, causing a businessman nearby to sneer and speed up his pace to avoid such nuisance. A man is anxious, out of the blue he starts running probably cursing the little delay that slowed him: will he catch his flight? A group of foreigners is checking and double checking a map, someone is sleeping on a bench and a little girl is looking out into the night sky hypnotised by the tail lights of a plane flying away.

I like airports, their peculiar poetry. It's quite lucky since you could say they're my home. I still struggle to fully convince myself that yes, my dream did come true. Some nights I fear I'd wake up one day and find out it was all just that, a wild feverish dream, not my reality. Luckily, that day never comes. Mom and Dad fry eggs and bacon in a diner not far from Kansas City; my brother and I will always remember how tired they looked when they crawled back home but also how big their smile was when they produced a box of fries or a couple of milkshakes just for us. We both helped during the summer, wearing aprons and serving tables. They let us keep the tips and we spent them all in ice-creams and movies. Now I'm sure no costumer leaves without being told - maybe more than once and with great pride - that their daughter is now a stewardess of the Pan American World Airways. I still remember the day I received the good news: Mom cried tears of joy and even Noah dropped his tough act and pulled me into a tight hug, whispering how happy he was for me. My sweet little brother. Now at my parents' diner a picture is hung at the wall side by side with a framed stellar review by a local newspaper: Noah and I hugging each other and smiling to the camera in our favorite booth by the window. I'm wearing my dashing Pan Am uniform, he's in a brand new US marine attire. He was drafted one week after John F. Kennedy was shot, the picture was taken on our last family reunion around Christmas. Noah wasn't happy to go to war, he was scared. "I wish I could join you to New York and find a job in advertising maybe" he frowned when my parents were sleeping and we sneaked away to the back porch as we used to do as kids. Noah was good at drawing, the creative type. God knows how I would have loved to have him around, to keep me grounded and remind me of the reassuring warmth of sibling affection. To keep him safe. I moved to New York right after I got the job; Noah was still in high school back then, I had to go alone. They all promised to visit as soon as they could when we parted at the airport. And that's when my new life started. I was on my own in the big city, breathing in the wind of change. I wonder if that's how every girl feels when they leave their boring provincial town behind and make it big. I moved into a small flat downtown: not much, but big enough to contain all my hopes and dreams. The training supervisors were particularly strict and took so very seriously their duty to asses whether we were stewardess material or a lost cause. First, a medical evaluation then a grumpy lady would weigh us and fix our girdles: I wondered if I would have been able to breathe normally on a plane and I was not the only one by the look on the other girls' faces. The interminable daily classes on how to strip our face clean of makeup and start from scratch still haunts me just like the day I was told my hair weren't okay, an in-between length that didn't impress the ladies in charge: I had to choose between wearing a chignon or a wig. No way I would have gone for the latter! Our appearance had to conform to a certain code and I soon learned there are so many requirements to meet to be eye candy. But it wasn't all about our exterior, even if we were often reminded that our aim was to look runaway ready. The Pan Am stewardesses must have that savour faire that makes them unique, legendary. So aside from the standard training (what to say on board, what to do in case of emergency, first aid classes) I had to learn how to pour wine with that special twist of the wrist and pop champagne open without it exploding as well as how to cook and elegantly garnish certain menu dishes in no space. And I assure you, the standard for scrambled eggs in first class were so different from everything I had learnt at my parents' diner, even if the time I spent there gave me a head start. Once I completed my training, my career finally began. I was assigned to Us bi-coastal routes for the time being but I felt different already. People looked at me differently, especially when I walked through the Pan Am terminal in white gloves and my uniform designed by Italian stylists. The gleam of admiration and wonder in their eyes set my heart on fire: aside from my parents and Noah, nobody had ever looked at me that way before, not even my best friend. I take a sip of coffee and smile thinking back at my beginnings. Despite the hard work, I was constantly in a dreamy state of mind. A Pan Am stewardess made it to the cover of LIFE that year, I still have a copy of it. The journalist enthusiastically claimed that girls like me were not only icons of beauty and grace but also the peak of the femininity to come. "See these ladies? They're not just stewardesses, they're a whole new breed of women". I must admit that to some extent we are: we're so different from our mothers and the Angels of the hearth of the lady magazines. We wear heels and fine makeup, we speak several languages and see the world. We're emancipated and sophisticated: we are women of the world. My face didn't make it to LIFE but little girls and teens stop me and ask me tips, how can they be as elegant, as put together, what they have to do to land this job. They want to live the same dream. A little girl of five once asked if she could take a picture with me. I had some time left so I squatted down and placed my bowler hat on her head making her flash the brightest smile to the camera her father was holding. Before parting she handed me my hat and looked me right in the eye, whispering in awe "I wanna be like you when I grow up". And then she wrapped her arms around my neck in a grateful hug. I told the cute scene to my mother over the phone: she sounded touched and joked that she didn't know her daughter ended up being a starlet of the silver screen. "Remember us when you're famous, love" Dad added from another room. I missed them, I still do at times. But I would never go back: for the first time in my life I found a place where I truly belong here in New York. I met friends that could understand my hunger for more, to discover the world. I love the parks and lights at night, the buzz of the city that never sleeps. Most importantly, I love my job, even when I'm so busy all I do is hopping on and off planes, going back home, sleeping eating my breakfast and doing it all over again. No matter how hard I need to push myself to meet the Pan Am standards, I've always felt liberated, free here. As if this was what was meant to be, where I was meant to be all along. The day a gorgeous neighbor knocked at my door with a plate of freshly baked cookies and a charming, flirtatious smile on her lips, I had no more doubt. Here is where I was meant to be.

[spellmanmortuary]

To be fair Miner is a typical Halloween costume, Nick dresses like a normal person, don’t know how you can find Caliban’s clothes unless it’s the pac sun looking shirt. At least Part 4 can deliver Jock Nick and Cheerleader Sabrina costumes.

ok this ask made me crack open my computer so it should tell u how much i care abt fashion 

but basically !! no one is wearing the miner look. the harvey costumes are the plaid shirt, the jeans and the sneakers with the boy next door hair + the brown leather jacket. so basically the look he’s had throughout the show’s run. 

the problem is that nick and caliban don’t have noteworthy style. harvey’s isn’t exactly noteworthy or groundbreaking, but, it’s identifiable and he has a signature look going. like if you prop any dude dressed in the plaid + jeans + jacket combo next to a girl dressed as sabrina, you’ll know it’s harvey. 

however: the other guys don’t have this kind of signature style. 

take nick. in p1 his style ? mess. he had this schoolboy thing going ? like he was wearing the white button up shirt with the sweater and they had him wear that in the promo material for some strange reason. but then in p2 they found his groove and had him in the dark turtlenecks and all black outfits, which were honestly ?? great. but then for p3 the style said 😌 it was nice to meet u 😌 and they had a weird regression where they started putting him in the ill fitting jeans with boots but occasionally in the white shirts again ?? and like in my opinion his style throughout the 3 parts has been kind of inconsistent to the point where the Nick Scratch Signature Look is just. him shirtless in dark pants. which again, might be great for like character development ( which i’m not sure of either lmao ) but it isn’t great when you’re trying to build a costume. 

as for caliban ? missed potential tbh. like i get that they had to have him in the whole hell attire but couldn’t they make it a bit more fashionable ?? like. even beelzebub has that great fun flesh crown and he has those fur coats that he wears with skull belts and stuff. i think that what went wrong with calibans lack of ~iconic style-ness~ is that they put him in this ugly ass vest without a shirt for most of p3. and his style was not cohesive at ALL. like. we had the vest thing and then we got this amazing romantic novel prince moment but then we got this 70′s looking ensemble that looks like it could have been worn by logan lerman in hunters. so tell me, caos wardrobe department, what is caliban’s style ?

in my opinion, it was wasted potential lol. like look at the fashion warlocks wear in ahs: apocalypse !!! i think that the show and even nick’s character could have been a lot more stylish if they had given him the same style he had in the first two parts for the third one, but in colors that went from dark to clear. like i know the show loves the 60s so why did we never get a short sleeved turtleneck moment ? we know gavin would’ve looked really good in one of those. we could have gotten a preppy striped cardigan with a black tshirt underneath. we could have gotten long black coats and blazers in interesting cuts. we could have gotten a tie moment. but no.... ill fitting jeans we know he’s short you don’t have to spell it out for us with those jeans that looked like he took them from harvey but had to fold the legs so they would fit him. 

i love ambrose’s style but like it could have been a lot more fun and iconic. if they loved the psychdellic 70s menswear for him they could have leaned into it more and given him corduroy vests with funky print shirts/bellbottoms/funky colored blazers and big collars. 

for caliban they could have given him a much more regal signature look, which would have made sense because he wanted the crown so bad it was natural that he would want to look the part. they could have given him a campy ass wardrobe with like. over the top embroidered shirts/some bejeweling/some faux fur and like. an actual hair look bc that just looks like sam combed his hair and showed up to set. some guyliner even. 

because look, it doesn’t matter if they dress like regular people because if the character has great style that looks recognizable, people will want to dress up as them, like the euphoria characters, or buffy the vampire slayer, or even sabrina herself. sabrina has a ton of signature, identifiable looks and moments despite the wardrobe departments’ best efforts so people want to dress up as her. she looks cute, she looks fun, it works if you want to make it sexy or spooky or conservative or a combination of the three. you can pick the plaid skirt + turtleneck, the red peacoat, the cheer uniform or if you want to go all out, you can do the whole I AM THE DARK LORD’S SWORD thing. you can wear the red off the shoulder top from the promos or the black queen of hell dress. same goes for the weird sister’s dresses. they’re cute, relatively easy to copy, and they can be as fun and flirty as u wanna make them. 

to be honest, to me the problem is that the style in caos is.... a bit messy. it’s confusing because characters look like they all came from different eras and their styles ( except ambrose, who stays pretty on brand with the 70s ) blend together in the most boring, print crazy, muted tones ( which. why??? they’re teenagers why are they always wearing autumnal colors ), sometimes they put the actors in things that are unflattering to their body types like sabrina’s valentine’s day ruched red dress atrocity that shit belongs to in a middle school spring fling dance or nick’s weird carnival canadian tux, and sometimes they mix eras? like with sabrina’s style, which inexplicably jumps from 60s to 70s but nothing she wears looks like what her aunts would have worn at her age so where and how did she even get those ?? were those like... her mom’s ?? if they were, why has the connection never been made ? it could have been great for emotional depth.

but anyway, the characters that we see on halloween or at comic cons are usually the weird sisters ( specifically prudence ), hilda, zelda, lilith, harvey, sabrina, and occasionally ambrose. this is most likely due to the fact that they have the more signature, noteworthy, recognizable clothes. the weird sisters have that one signature look and they ROCK it, hilda and zelda both dress like different kinds of stereotypical witches with identifiable hairstyles and are a fun friends/sisters costume, and lilith had that MOMENT with the demon face. harvey’s style is cute and consistent and pretty much timeless, maybe sometimes 90s inspired-ish. sabrina has an identifiable look with the hairstyle even if that wig is awful. 

so yeah, that was my long way of saying that the reason why people aren’t dressing up as nick or caliban even if theyre in a couples costume with a sabrina is because those two have unidentifiable, non cohesive style. 

caos could have been a fashion show.... could’ve brought 60′s/70′s inspo in fashion back... but for some reason it didnt rlly do that lol 

[hysteriium]

Expect the Unexpected

Gif not mine!

(A/N): Okay maybe this is really specific, but there’s this one scent that’s literally the best smell I’ve ever smelt in my entire life? It’s like an oceany scented candle - my description literally does not do it justice I made it sound gross - and omg idk why but I could literally just picture Arthur having something along the lines of this cologne?? But maybe I’m biased. Here it is if you wanna check it out but omg like I’m not even joking when I say it’s the best thing I’ve ever smelt (and I collect a shit load of candles).  

!! ALSO - FORGOT TO MENTION ‘C/n’ = child’s name !! lol 

Summary: I honestly don’t know what to write for this one?? AHAHAH

Pairing: Arthur Fleck x Single mum!Reader

Word count: 8600k+ (I know, I know, shhhh). 

Warnings: 18+ SMUT STUFF! Fluff and swearing! 

////

When Arthur found himself in the slowly decaying, yet otherwise well taken care of backyard of one of his requestors, performing under the gloomy Gotham sky, never, would he have expected it to change his life. Especially for the better. No, never had he thought, for the better. 

Arthur fiddled with his wig, the tips of his fingers scurrying under the strip of white which crossed his forehead, adjusting it. The fake, frizzy green locks were no longer lopsided, and he continued his routine in front of the kids before him. Laughter filled his ears. The only merriment he was accustomed to, and on that same train of thought, welcomed. It was nothing like the devious cackles of those who made fun of him. 

No, the laughs before him were honest and kind; they appreciated him. Most touching of all, and similarly foreign to him, was the fact that they actually asked for his jokes. 

He often wondered where things went wrong. When exactly did children, who were, for the most part, good-natured and compassionate, turn into horrible people? Transforming into the very same type that treated him like a punching bag? How and why, did they soak up the resentment of the world like a sponge? 

He supposed it was during adolescence. 

Teenagers were mean. 

That much was evident from the purple blotches on his back, markings that were still yet to dissipate, and tender to touch. From such a horrible experience, at least he was able to draw one positive out of it. The positive being that his clown costume was ridiculous enough to hide his battered and bruised body. Away from prying eyes. 

Then again, it wasn't like anyone would have cared.  

Ultimately, he tried his best not to focus on the path his thoughts were leading him down. One of his biggest struggles was staying in the moment, and right now, with the crucial task of performing for a child's birthday, he needed to be grounded. To emphasise this, Arthur dug his nails into his palms. Painful enough to snap him out of his digression, lax enough to keep the blood rushing and undisturbed under tested skin.  

As Arthur was finishing up his act, the magic wand which he seemingly pulled out of nowhere - at least from the kids' perspectives, produced a collective awe. He waved it around, bouncing from toe to toe in his giant clown shoes, flicking it towards the birthday boy. Said child was a small, (h/c) haired boy with twinkling (e/c) eyes; his name, (C/n). 

(C/n) flinched when the wand was suddenly centimetres from his face. Though, he giggled when he saw the expression on the clown's profile. It feigned shock, a gasp leaving his apple-red painted mouth. The clown, which the child only knew as 'Carnival' retracted the stick, inspecting it with squinted eyes. Alongside this, his spare hand flew up to his face, scratching his chin in thought, looking as though he had never encountered such a complex dilemma in his entire life. 

Then, without warning, the wand fell. No longer as sturdy as a stick, it wilted like a dying flower. The clown panicked, watching as it wiggled around in his desperate hands like a worm. While all seemed gloomy for the fate of the magic item in his hands, the children were giggling gleefully, intrigued at what would happen next. It was times like these that made Arthur's job bearable; made life bearable.

All he wanted was to make people smile.

Arthur, pretending as though he was about to give up, engaged with the object in one last attempt, the flick of his wrist propelling the rod into the air. Much to the children's astonishment, the wand had straightened itself, snapping back to its previously sturdy arrangement, with no sign of its prior drooping. 

They had long since formed a circle around the colourful man, looking up in wonder, clapping for him.

Arthur then slipped the item back into his pocket, performing a victory clasp. He threw his interlocked hands over his shoulders and shook them in response to the applause. When the children hushed their amazement, Arthur stuck his pointer finger in the air, wordlessly requesting their attention. His eyes then shut tight as he concentrated. Whipping out the rod from his pocket once more, he gave it one final spin. 

The children waited.

Nothing happened. 

Arthur opened his eyes. Confused. It was difficult for him to process what happened next because it all happened so quickly. One second he was puzzled, the next he was rendered stunned, with a face submerged in flowers. First, he had heard it, the sprout, as a prominent 'whoosh' filled the air. Then he felt it; felt it tickling his nose. 

The flowers themselves were not real ones, but they were vivid; pinks, purples, greens and yellows sprouting from the wand's end. Trying to play it off as though it was planned all along, Arthur mimed a sneeze, shaking his head. 

With a sheepish grin, the clown pulled back. His face was now safe from the sinister touch of the vibrant, ticklish extensions, and he handed the hued bouquet to the birthday boy, hunching over to reach him. It wasn't hard to decipher what the boy was thinking. Unquestionably, a mixture of amusement and joy as laughter bubbled from his throat; his joviality a contagious song. 

And thus concluded Arthur's act. 

"You're so cool Carnival!" (C/n) hollered, waving the newly acquired flowers around. 

Arthur beamed down at the boy. 

"When I grow up, I want to be just like you!"

Arthur attempted to restrain the look of pain which crossed his animated features. 

No, kid. No, you don't. 

Not wanting to ignore the poor child, he shot (C/n) a forced smile and ruffled his (h/c) hair.

"No. One day, you're going to be even better." 

The child gawked up at him, hope dancing in his gem-like eyes, reflecting light. 

Thankfully, the moment didn't last long as Arthur's concentration was ripped from the depressing interaction. He had caught a glimpse of you, the parent, entering the backyard. You had tried to smoothly open the door, an attempt to reduce the obnoxious squeaking from the object, though your steady pace was futile. Despite the hesitant speed at which it was tugged, it was a protest that sustained. 

It was just another complaint to add to the shitty standard in Gotham; everything was half-assed. A primary disease which ate at the heart of the city, decaying and transforming it into the bleak, loveless and harsh mother it was. When you were one of Gotham's children, affection was seldom. No matter how hard you tried to impress the mother, to display your achievements, to show strength, to get back up when you fell, the mother remained emotionless. Perhaps, she kicked you down some more.

Gotham was her name, and tough love was her game. 

Arthur watched you, in all his costumed glory, and drunk in the way your hair was softly carried by the wind. How your skin was kissed by the suns rays; how you moved away from the shading of the roof, which protruded meters from the brick walls of the house, spotlighting your features. He honestly felt like he was in a movie, a movie that was set up for disaster - knowing his luck. He couldn't wait for the great mystery of how he was going to screw up, to unravel before his eyes. Could he even call it a mystery? He knew it was inevitable. A non-mysterious mystery? Expecting the unexpected except it was actually unexpected, though somehow, still expected?

Did that even make sense? He thought. 

His brain hurt.

What was he doing again? 

"Mum!" (C/n) shouted, rushing up to you, simultaneously breaking Arthur's buzzing thoughts as well as the one-sided staring contest he had engaged in. 

"Hey, there buckaroo!" you grabbed onto his small form and hoisted him up against your hip, "how's my big boy?" 

Arthur watched the heart-warming scene from afar, sorrow tugging at his heart. He couldn't help but flick through his memories, to try and find a time where his mother had been just as caring. Limited, but nonetheless there, he yearned for change; for his past to change. He'd been the man of the house for as long as he could remember. Even at a young age. With no father or even knowledge of him, he was forced to take care of his mother. And while he loved his mother, with all his heart, it was an arduous task to take care of yourself and your own needs when you were supporting someone else. 

"Good!" The child giggled in your arms, "Carnival is my favourite clown! Can we have him over every week?"

You couldn't help but burst out laughing.

"I don't know buddy, I-"

"Please, please, please, please, please?" (C/n) whined, looking up at you with large hopeful (e/c) eyes.  

"Run along and play, and maybe I'll talk to him," you tapped his nose, "that sound good?"  

The boy frantically nodded his head, and as you set him down, he bolted off to join his friends. When he was on the other side of the yard, you turned towards the party clown. 

"Sorry about that," you sheepishly grinned. 

Arthur didn't really know what to say, the scene before him had truly made his heartthrob. It was a warmth that left him with some strange mix of belonging and attachment. Never before had he felt so appreciated. He wanted to say something, be honest, express his gratitude. And so, he said the first thing that came to mind:

"It's fine." 

He wanted to kick himself. 

"It's kind of strange how much he likes you. He's never really open. He can be quite..."

"Shy," Arthur finished for you.  

When you gave him a quizzical look, he was quick to explain, "I-I, uh, I was the same." 

Your lips upturned into a soft smile.

"Well, (C/n) must've picked up on it. Kid's are good like that - sensitive to vibes. It means you've got a good heart." 

Arthur fidgeted, the words melting him. 

"Oh! Um, thank you for coming on such short notice…sorry, I never caught your name?" 

"A-Arthur." 

"Glad to know your name's not actually Carnival."

His eyes sparkled at your joke, his amusement filling the yard.

"You're probably exhausted, come, I'll make some tea. Or coffee? Is there something you prefer?" 

He was about to protest, not wanting to bother you, to go back home to his crummy apartment and lose himself in his journal for the rest of the day, but something compelled him to agree to the offer. He wasn't sure what.

"Coffee is okay, thank you," his smile hadn't left. 

When you turned to lead, his eyes flew to your hands, searching for a ring. He also wasn't sure why he let himself.

There was none, however; no jewellery at all. 

Huh.

He quickly caught up and shuffled inside after you. 

"This really means a lot," you started, closing the screen door before turning to face him, "to me and, obviously to my son..." 

A sombre look replaced your smile.

"...I haven't seen him this happy since we moved," you looked back at (c/n), watching him jump up and down with his friends, their voices filtering through the mesh. 

"You're not from Gotham?"

You shook your head, rounding him to shift further into the kitchen, behind the counter. His eyes followed your zipping from, moving when you were out of view. 

"Sugar?" 

Arthur found his hands fidgeting with his wig again, refusing eye contact. A soft 'sure' passed his lips, followed by a 'two, thank you' as the porcelain clink of mugs being placed, echoed. The soft scatter of sugar followed soon after.

"Please make yourself comfortable, Arthur. You can sit down if you'd like." 

The scraping of the chair from behind told you that he listened. 

After a few moments of silence, he spoke up. You could tell he was starting to open up, less nervous than when you had first spoken to him. It was endearing. 

"With all due respect miss-

"(Y/n)," you interrupted, turning to grin at the man. You noticed he had taken his wig off, his red foam nose too, displaying his almost raven coloured locks and chiselled features.  

"(Y/n), he repeated. The way your name rolled off his tongue had your stomach fluttering, a sensation that caught you off guard. 

"Why did you move to Gotham? It's not exactly the...best place to be." 

"Life works in funny ways," you started, "one minute you're on top of the world, the next the floor crumbles beneath you, and suddenly you're in a hole." 

Boy, did Arthur understand. Although he knew you weren't able to see him, with your back turned towards him, he nodded his head frantically. How were you able to so eloquently sum up his life? His whole existence? 

"Sorry, I'm oversharing," you awkwardly laughed. 

"No! I know what you mean..." 

With one flick of the kettle's trigger, you returned to Arthur. 

"I take it you're a native Gothamite?" 

He nodded. 

"I live with my moth- … my mother," his voice lost confidence towards the end as if he was ashamed of such a fact. 

This was only supported when he scrambled to get out his next words, "she needs help sometimes, and I'm the only one who's around to take care of her."  

"I'm all she has…" 

You gave him a reassuring smile, gently touching his interlocked hands which were resting on the table. He flinched at the contact. 

"You don't need to justify yourself, Arthur. I'm sure your mother's proud to have raised such a compassionate man."

You had caught him off guard - that was for sure. Flicking through the entirety of your interactions wasn't needed to come to the glaringly obvious conclusion that he wasn't used to being complimented. That he wasn't used to any form of nicety, and that fact well and truly broke your heart.

Who had hurt him?

Arthur had yet to find evidence of repulsion - yet to find anything that indicated you were weirded out by him; like the guys at work. He relaxed into the hold a second later, when he realised it wasn't anything threatening. Or, part of some malicious, ulterior motive.

"As strange as this might sound, you're really easy to talk to, Arthur. You're a good listener."  

"Really?" He couldn't hold back the crooked, love-struck grin that infiltrated his features, and he was about to compliment you too when the shrieking of the kettle broke up the moment, causing you to pull away from him.

He felt cold; the warming action starkly contrasted with the wind which permeated through the mesh door.

In seconds, you had returned with your steaming beverages, warning of the burning hazards, though your touch hadn't returned. 

Fast-forwarding through the small talk and the stories which decorated your conversation, Arthur eventually finished his coffee, and never before had he been so smitten. Out of all the jobs he'd gotten this week, which weren't many, this had been the most enjoyable. Although his work here had finished a while ago, he had tried to stretch out the minutes, just to hold onto the glimmer of happiness he knew would dissipate as soon as he left. He could feel time laughing at him, sticking its ghastly tongue out while telepathically hammering the fact home. He couldn't drag it out any longer. 

And so, when it was time for him to leave, heading towards the door, he paused and swallowed his pride, doing what he thought was best. 

"Did you want to get dinner sometime?" He said, turning back around as he placed an awkward arm against the arch of the hallway, leaning on it. He saw it in movies. The cool, nonchalant characters always got the girl, so it must work. 

Right? 

No, that was stupid, he thought. 

He forced the limb down, it bumping against his side. 

His fingernails dug into his palms again, for the second time that day, pressing against the very same spots as he waited for a response. He was expecting rejection. No way would she say yes, what was he thinking? At least he could say he tried; at least he'd had one positive interaction in the last few months. 

Sorry kiddo, guess Carnival's not coming back. 

His negative thoughts were disrupted by the sound of your reply. A reply in which made him delighted for taking a chance. 

Because your next words were nothing but a sweet package of glazed agreement.

"I'd love to." 

Uttering something about a day and a time, to which you agreed, he quickly found his way out of the house. 

When he slipped outside into the fresh air, he shut the front door. Away from everyone's gaze - at least those he cared about, namely you. He felt compelled to move. One of his legs with a mind of its own crossed over the other, twirling him around against your patterned brick pathway; a path in which led to the small gated exit. His arms then followed a similar pattern, striking the air, drumming into it. With one slide, the soles of his shoes skated against concrete, pushing him towards the iron gate. He felt good as he opened it. He felt confident. Laughter bubbled from his lips, failing to halt as he travelled further and further away from your house. 

He smiled all the way home.

And, it was only until he reached said home, emptying out his pockets while changing into more comfortable clothes, that his fingers brushed up against a flat, smooth surface; thin and malleable. He wrapped his digits over the peculiar material and brought it to eye-level, palm exposed. 

It was a small, folded piece of paper. White, though crumbled from being cramped up in his pocket. 

He didn't remember placing it in there...

Arthur's eyes grew wide when he unravelled the mysterious sheet, a line of numbers taking up a good portion of its space. Below it was a small 'call me - (Y/n)' written out neatly, a drastic variation to his own child-like scribbles. He reclined his head against a nearby wall, letting his childish exuberance take over. 

Turns out you were quite the magician yourself. 

———

Arthur sat alone, leg jittering as his eyes glanced back and forth from the clock on the pale wall opposite him, above the entrance. With each darting glance, barely a minute between them, he became increasingly aware of the chatter around him. While there weren't many people in the area with him as the tables were more empty than they were filled, he was highly conscious of the fact that he was the only one there without company. 

For the first time, he looked out the window he rested against. The chilled frame soothed his hot face as he watched people stroll by, hoping to catch you. His attempts were, sadly, in vain. 

You were late. 

When he returned his gaze to look back at the clock again, he tried his hardest not to make eye contact with any of the staff. He knew that if he did, they'd flock to him like a swarm of bees. Instead, he kept his head low, pretending to look at the menu.

After another five minutes passed before the bell hanging off the door finally rang. His gaze immediately shot to the noise, locking with yours. Air left his mouth, both in relief and at the red dress you were wearing, coincidentally matching his own red suit. It hugged your figure, complimenting every curve, and he tried his hardest to keep his eyes from wandering. 

You hadn't stood him up.

As your beaming face lit up the world around him, your clacking heels took you to the booth opposite him, observing the room with a smile as you did so. 

"I'm so sorry I'm late!" You exclaimed, placing your purse down, sandwiched by you and the wall.

"Kids," you rolled your eyes.

"You came," were his first words, his eyes riddled with a strange confusion, yet a light - hope. He believed he had articulated his surprise internally, that was, until you gave him a look.

"Of course! Why wouldn't I?"  

"I-I don't know." He sputtered out. 

He did. 

As you both got settled in, Arthur for the first time that night willingly made eye contact with one of the servers. Your orders were speedily jotted down and taken to the chef within minutes. 

Conversation flowed, and his jokes actually got a reaction out of you, much to his surprise. The tension, or rather the anxious energy that seemed to bounce off the two of you melted, fading away light the lights of the cars that sped by the open window. In its absence, a playful aura took told. Small touches here and there, and your leg which rubbed against his, even if it was accidental, left his head spinning. This, he thought, was bliss. 

"So," you started, a finger twirling around a strand of (h/c) hair, "I've decided." 

Arthurs brows furrowed, allowing you to continue. 

"I have to tell you something," you said, rubbing your hands against your dress; a nervous tick.

A finger curled into his collar, tugging at it to cool his heating body temperature. Arthur's anxiety which was already a mess, exacerbated from hearing one of the most infamously terrifying phrases.  

"I feel like it'll be good for me to open up - I haven't told anyone since I've left. No one really knew in the first place, except a few friends." 

Arthur didn't know what to say. 

It sounded serious. Your words held a unique gravity to them. And while he felt the air around them shift, from light-hearted and playful, to darker, more solemn, he could tell you had been repressing what you were about to tell him for a good while. He knew the look. 

His hand reached over the table to meet yours. They were timid, brushing against yours experimentally until he knew you were comfortable with his affection.

"How the tables have turned," you joked, allowing his hand to slip into yours.  

"I was in a nasty relationship," you started off wavering, a sigh passing into the air, "I only dared to leave a few months ago." 

Arthur's heart virtually broke as you revealed this to him. He watched as you swallowed the lump in your throat, noting how your eyes started to flutter from the stinging of tears. 

"It endangered me and my son. It took a lot of strength to leave, but I had to for (C/n). He's my world, and I care about him more than myself." 

Tears by now had fallen, running down your cheeks. Arthur intently listened to your confession. 

"Moving to Gotham was the only way we could start over, and if I could have given him a better life, I would have, but it was the best I could do. I just wanted to see him happy again." 

You let out another sigh, trying to blink away a few of the stray tears, though Arthur beat you to it, his hands moving to your face, wiping them with his thumbs. He felt how you leant into his touch, your eyes falling shut with a sniffle. As grim as the situation was, he was happy you were comfortable enough to tell him such a heartbreaking story.

"Sorry," you mumbled, forcing a laugh out to mask your vulnerability. Arthur saw right through it.

He gave you a look, one that virtually said 'are you serious?' before he spoke, exasperated, "what for?" 

"I don't know...for crying? For dropping this on you, for-" 

"Hey," Arthur's thick, dark eyebrows furrowed, his hands still cupping your face, "if I even had half the strength of you, I'd-"

"I'd-"

Arthur paused, his voice coming out as chokes.

Oh no. 

He felt an overly-familiar twitch in his throat, a reflex in which he tried to stifle by clamping his mouth shut, contorting his face in pain to keep it at bay.  

He never could. 

And then, at the worst possible moment, the worst he could possibly think of, he hunched over and wheezed, cackling over the table. Your eyes, riddled with confusion from the lost contact, was promptly replaced with hurt at his sudden laughter. 

He quickly noticed this, shaking his head. 

Everyone else in the establishment, with what few were there, reared their heads to the ruckus, watching Arthur spiral. 

"I-I'm so-" he started, desperate to contain himself. 

It only made things worse. 

"S-sorry." 

He fiddled with his pockets, trying to produce the laminated card, he practically depended on. His fingers brushed the plastic, and he frantically pulled it out, sliding it to the other side of the table.

Please understand. 

Please, please, please. 

You had been the only person he'd connected with in months, perhaps longer. And now, he was about to ruin it with his stupid, stupid, stupid condition. 

Guess the mystery had unravelled, he thought bitterly. 

He tried to watch your expression for any indication of disgust or contempt. It was difficult, however, as he continued his fit, a hand hitting the table's surface. Another reflex. The pain was starting to set in, his lungs screaming, and his chest aching. 

Please just let it end. 

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

Your voice surprised him, the kind tone and the understanding in your eyes was something he had to get used to. Something he wanted to get used to. How were you so kind? So accepting?

He shook his head slowly, trying to get a few words out.

"I have-"

"Have to-"

He tried to breathe, nearly choking.

"W-Wait."

"It's okay," you comforted, hurt no longer manipulating your features. 

"Take your time."

———

In Arthur's eyes, the date had gone really well, or at the very least as well as it could have gone considering his outburst. He was happy, the feeling of warmth and nervousness he felt around you was something he hadn't really experienced with anyone, or really had the chance to. He kind of liked it.

He felt like he could be himself. You'd laugh at his jokes, his puns, regardless of how morbid they got; the most you'd do is playfully slap his shoulder and bite back a grin - guilty for laughing. He never understood the frivolous sayings about love, how things could sound so far fetched and dramatic, but now, he understood. 

He didn't know how it was possible, how someone as beautiful as you, could be interested in someone like him. 

After eating, you both walked under the darkness of the sky, the pinpricks which twinkled above, smiling down. Content was the air that surrounded your bodies, a loving blanket. With nothing more than a few minutes walk back to yours from the restaurant, you relished in his company. 

It wasn't long before you both arrived back though, almost too soon, with the giddiness of your date still swirling around in both your heads. Arthur, at some point, had wrapped his red suit jacket around your goosebumped form, an action at which you had initially declined, but gave in when he insisted. You thought it felt good against your warming skin, the smell of his cologne intoxicating. As you entered the hallway, leading him back to the living room, you were happy to see the babysitter you had hired playing a board game with your beaming son. She was the teenage daughter of a friend you met at work, and you, happy to help out a struggling youth, decided it was the perfect opportunity to go out with Arthur. After paying her, and seeing her off, you excused yourself for a moment and vanished into one of the other rooms.  

Arthur had sat down on the table like last time. The wood cooled his clothed forearms as he watched the child from across the room walk his way over, and push himself into the chair opposite him. Once (c/n), was comfortable, Arthur shot him a smile - one that wasn't returned. 

(C/n)'s bright eyes were suddenly reduced to slits, his arms crossed and observing the dressed-up man. It made Arthur uncomfortable, to say the least. What had caused the dramatic shift in attitude? 

Nothing was said, for at least a good two minutes, until finally, the small child in his blue space pyjamas saw it necessary.

"You know, my mommy really likes you." 

Uh oh.

Arthur made a face back to the boy. 

He wasn't entirely sure what face he made, though it didn't matter because the child picked up on his general disbelief anyway.

"It's true!" His arms shot out into the air, "I do too!" 

There was no way a child could know such things; plus, nothing was ever certain. It was with this that he pushed down the hope that had sprung up, like a freshly bloomed flower in spring - its stem resistant and youthful, not yet pressed by the wilting life would inevitably bring. 

"So you better not be mean to her!" (C/n) exclaimed.

The double meaning behind what the child said made him internally cringe. Arthur now knew the context of your troubled pasts and whilst what (c/n) had said was innocent, had saddened him. Not just over the fact you had been through hell in the first place, but because, for a moment there, Arthur saw himself in the child; a reflection of what he was still like. Always having to take care of his mother - look out for her. Support her any way he could.  

Arthur's eyes softened in understanding, a great respect for the child forming. (C/n) sincerely looked up to you - loved you, and he was willing to resist anything that endangered that. 

Arthur leaned forward, a forearm extending. His elbow rested against the table's surface and all his fingers, except for one - his pinky - curled into his palm. 

"I promise," he said, eyes firm, a certainty the child was happy with.

(C/n) reached his small body over, his knees digging into the pads of cushioning on the chair as his significantly tinier finger wrapped around Arthur's skinny one. A smile was shared between the two of them. 

When Arthur went to pull away, he was stopped by (C/n)'s whine.

"No! You have to lock it!"

"Lock?" Arthur questioned. 

(C/n)'s tongue stuck out in concentration as he reached his small thumb over to Arthur's, tapping it. After much trial and error, the older man finally got the hint and connected the tip of his thumb with the boy.

"There!" (C/n) exclaimed.

Unbeknownst to the two seated at the table, you had snuck back into the room, watching the heartwarming scene unfold. The gentle noise of your knocking signified your return, and Arthur, with surprise, jumped in his chair, quickly standing. You bit into your lip, trying not to laugh. 

He made his way over to you when you extended your arm, his red suit jacket floating in the air as your fingers gripped it from the top. In one quick movement, it was hugging his body again.

"Thanks," Arthur smiled.

As much as he wanted to stay, to talk to you all night, his eyes caught the time which had apparently flown by, like a flock of birds migrating for the winter. He had undoubtedly overstayed his welcome, and his mother was probably worried sick. 

His eyes grew wide.

"I-I have to go!" 

His sudden shift in mood had you worried. 

"Arthur? Are you okay?" 

"I'm really late. I'm sorry." 

"Oh - okay well, let me walk you to the door?"

It was barely a few meters away, and you internally scolded yourself. How obvious could you get?

He quickly nodded.

Your form quickly moved past him as you hear Arthur's gentle voice in the background say goodbye to (C/n). When your fingers gripped onto the doorknob, pushing it, Arthur squeezed past with a small 'thank you'. You felt the nips of the wind against your exposed arms, causing you to shiver. The distant noises of Gotham - the blaring sirens which were muffled, and the faraway clamour of car horns, was something you had gotten used to; it was a city that never slept. 

Arthur stood awkwardly in front of you, lost. It was then when you realised you had to make the first move. 

"Thanks for tonight," you said, hands wrapping around him in a gentle embrace, chin resting on the pad of his shoulder. The smell of his cologne hit your nostrils instantly. It was oceanic, traces of bergamot and melon, with a hint of frangipani; so perfectly him. It was a fragrance that you associated with safety, the small feeling of comfort burrowing in your stomach. 

He froze from your actions, evidently stunned. His arms then snaked their way around your waist, pulling you closer to him. 

"I had a great time," you whispered, eyes closing against him.  

The husky agreement which you felt vibrate in his chest induced a sinful shiver. As much as you wanted to stay wrapped in his arms for longer, hell for the rest of the night, you knew he needed to be somewhere. Tearing yourself away, the hands remaining at your hips stopped you, squeezing into your sides. This prompted you to look up at the man, into his hardened eyes. They looked to be concentrating, portraying an internal war. His Adam's apple bobbed. You didn't get a chance to ask if he was okay because he moved before you could, his lips quickly pressing themselves against the softness of your heated cheek before scurrying off.

You smiled, fingers grazing the area. 

Arthur was a unique man. Strange, but endearingly so. 

So soft and gentle; kind. 

He would never hurt a fly. 

———

.

.

.

.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

Arthur repeated the mantra in his head. 

He'd fucked up - fucked up big time.

He'd shot three men - killed them in cold blood. 

His ears were still ringing from the gunshots, and he remembered the way his hands shook as he held the trigger. How his tremors diminished with every squeeze until finally, a hardened look replaced his fear. His whole demeanour had altered within those critical seconds.

As he found himself back in the present, his makeup smudged and appearance dishevelled, he emerged out of the public bathroom, panting. 

He felt different. 

The eyes which had stared back at him in that mirror didn't feel like his own. They didn't harbour the terror they once swam in, nor the naivety. His body, which had moved with grace and finesse, had danced on the dirty tiles instead. His movements came from the soul; a conglomeration of motions he was unaware he was even capable of. 

Yes - he was different. 

So, when he wiped off his makeup, and kicked his leg out, against the resistance of the bathroom door, he didn't go back to his apartment. He didn't want to see the rats in the lobby, scurrying and squeaking, only a matter of time before they found their way into his apartment. He didn't want to stare at the wall for hours, envisioning what could have been, and the what if's. He didn't want to sit down with his journal and think about how depressing his life was - just to get his therapist off his ass.

No, he didn't want to. 

So he didn't.

Preferably, he found himself going in the other direction. To the place where he felt most welcomed. Loved. 

Although the date had been days prior, he felt the need to see you. 

He didn't know how long it took him to get there, all he knew was the thumping of his heart, it's frantic beat echoing in his ears when he rapped on the door. The sound hollow. 

Your head peaked out, groggy from sleep as you opened the door, its range widening when you saw him. It was late, perhaps late enough to be considered the early hours of the morning, but you didn't question it. Rather, his name passed your lips with concern. 

Arthur didn't hear you call his name. Though he saw your lips move, plump and inviting. No sound reached his dazed state. His hands found your face alternatively, thin digits sliding below your mastoid, save for his ring finger and pinky. Wasting no time in seizing your lips, his mind worked overtime to memorise every little detail - of the moment he had been waiting for; the grand finale. 

Every scent - like the perfume that seeped into your skin, faint and applied hours prior. It was a scent he often detected, sometimes rubbing off on his clothes, but an odour he never got sick of; heavenly. 

Every feeling - like the way your hands wrapped around his form, gripping him tightly to steady yourself from your stumbling - from his pushes into the house. Or, like the feeling of his stomach, how it fluttered when you kissed him back, his heated blood pumping through him. 

Every sound - like the soft 'click' of the door behind him, which he closed with the sole of his shoe. 

Every taste - like the raspberry chapstick which coated your lips, mixing in with the contrasting flavour of his carmine lipstick. Although most of it was wiped off, there were distinct traces. Smudges.  

Every sight - the way your playful grin took up most of it when you pulled away, teeth dragging your bottom lip, leading him to your bedroom. 

When inside, Arthur dipped you down onto the bed, his slim frame hovering over yours with darkened eyes. The dim glow of your lamp residing on the bedside table allowed you to identify the hunger in his look. A lusting fire which burned right before you, behind those glassy, blue eyes. The warmth of his lips met your mouth once more, but only for a second because he shifted his attention to the base of your neck. The moments in between had you complaining from the loss of contact, a noise which he chuckled at. 

He wanted - needed - to explore every curve of your body; every crevice. Map it in his brain. 

"Arthur," you whispered. He shivered at the sound of his name breathlessly leaving your lips, goosebumps forming across his skin. In response, he hummed deeply - an acknowledgement which originated from the back of his throat, the vibrations sinful against your heightened senses.

"What's gotten into you?" 

The confidence radiating off of him, although adding to the pool in your panties, had surprised you. You had to remind yourself that the previously timid Arthur and the man above you were the same person.

"I need you," he husked. 

Amazed by his forwardness, though equally as desperate, your voice came out shaky, "then take me." 

Three words. Those lovely three words were all it took for him to lose himself; his control. The tightness of his pants was becoming too much to bear. It was his own personal prison, and the anguished motivation to escape was only increasing by the passing moments. Judging by the way you were grinding against him, pressing against his crotch unfairly, he knew you were just as riled up.

His kisses seared into your skin, rendering you a whimpering mess. Your back arched against the mattress, an action driven entirely by instinct as his hands slipped under your shirt. In an attempt to make things easier, your hands hooked under the shirt as well, bunching it up. When he sensed the movement, he assisted you with the material. In your whirlwind of passion, the article of clothing had been removed, thrown away as it was left sprawled across the floor, uncaringly. His breath hitched in his throat when he realised there was nothing underneath it, except for your underwear.

"You're beautiful," he said, pupils full-blown.

Your eyes then smiled up at his in the delicate moment, the tender upturn of your brows leading to the capture of his lips. Without so much as moving away, his slender fingers fiddled with his dress shirt, he too, removing himself from its constraints. 

He suddenly pulled away as his frustration reached its peak. His need for you had become overpowering, and he worked his way down towards the only piece of clothing you had left. The light, tickling touch of the pads of his fingers slid down your ribcage, tracing down your hips until they reached the waistband. His thumbs dipped under the elastic, and with the cooperation of your wiggling, it was promptly discarded. His caress was ever so gentle, his handling virtually leaving you quaking beneath him. 

Arthur wasted no time in pleasuring you, this was proven to you quickly when one of his digits smoothly slid into your cunt. The sound of your wetness was vulgar, although all the more alluring. 

He felt drunk; hazy. In some sense, it was surreal that this was occurring, that you were actually interested in him in the first place. Yet, there was another part of him that was screaming at himself to focus, to halt his berating comments and take pleasure in the way you were crumbling before him. He tried to do the latter.  

"Fuck- oh my god!" You immediately cried out, hands darting to cover your mouth as he slowly started pumping his finger. His devilish movements had your other hand fisting the sheets. 

Your breathing swiftly became ragged under the knuckle you bit down on, and he hastily added another finger, loving your reaction. He felt his chest swell with pride as he glanced up at your dishevelled manner. Encouraged by the enchanting sight, he picked up his pace. It was relentless and brutal, the thrusts forcing obscene mewls from you, some no longer containable. Raising your hips to meet his rhythm, to relieve the overwhelming knot forming, you knew you weren't going to last long. Arthur knew this too, your squirming made this clear, and he instantly added his lips to the equation, stimulating your clit. 

You were done for. 

As your walls clenched around his fingers, your hands rushed to grip his hair. They weaved through his untidy strands, pushing his head down while the wild flicks of his tongue assisted you with your earth-shattering orgasm. Ecstasy rushed over your trembling form, and as your thighs tensed, the tip of your head grazed the headboard; you swore you could see stars. Arthur's cock twitched in his pants at the sight of you unfolding before him, impossibly hard. 

"Holy fuck!" You moaned.

He kindly slowed his rhythm when he knew you finished, yet his tongue licked a long stripe against your slit, moving to lap up your juices. The sensation, as well as the hums that lasciviously left his mouth, vibrated against your already sensitive core, setting you down the path for a second climax.  

Perhaps he had done it on purpose, but when you felt the pressure in your abdomen, ready to burst again, he pulled away. 

"No!" you cried, "Arthur, please! I'm gonna cum, please let me cum!" You sobbed quite shamelessly. In all honesty, your words surprised yourself, and apparently Arthur too, because laid sat there for a moment, eyebrows raised as a delicious smirk settled over his lips. He took his merry time, with no sign of returning to you, savouring your pleading.  

"Beg," he purred, sitting up as his tongue lolling out to lick and suck on the fingers that had fucked you into oblivion. His eyes never shifted from yours, and you watched with absolute astonishment, upon desire, at the action. Your reaction only egged him on. 

What exactly happened to him in the last 72 hours? 

You were genuinely bewildered at the whole situation. The last thing you would have expected was to have Arthur rock up in the middle of the night and turn into a sex god. Though, you certainly weren't complaining. 

While one of his hands was busy, in his mouth, his other trailed up your thigh. Eventually, it reached your bundle of nerves, tracing small circles with his thumb, agonisingly slowly. 

"You're so good to me, fuck," you whined, stirring against his touch. He pulled away again when you bucked into his hand.

"Please-"

"Please, what?"

"I need you inside me, Arthur, fuck please-"

He couldn't take much more of your begging, his own self-control had wholly vanished by then, and he quickly shifted out of his pants, freeing himself. When his cock fell into his fist, he gave two steady pumps before lining himself up with you. You held your breath in anticipation despite your wild heart, making you feel dizzy. The relief you had been longing for - no aching for - had finally arrived when he pushed himself into you. 

"Oh god- you feel so good," you gasped. The moan which fell from Arthur's lips had your name mixed in, a deliciously carnal sound. As he started moving, a slow rhythm from his hips developing, he shut his eyes. With his concentration on chasing his finish, salty beads of sweat trailed down his forehead. 

"Arthur," your gentle voice had called, "w-wait." 

Upon hearing your words, he immediately stopped, eyes flying open with concern.

"Let me take care of you."

He was confused as to what you meant until you maneuvered yourself on top, kissing him softly.  

You could see the stutter in his confidence at your words, though his nod signified his consent. With a small smile, you made sure he was comfortable before your entrance started teasing his cock. You felt him tense up, and when you made the movement again, he thrust into you, an involuntary action which made you both cry out. His stroke hit you perfectly the first time, harsh yet euphoric. If you woke up the next day and found your body aching, you wouldn't be shocked.

His arms reached over to embrace your form as you buried your face in the crevice of his neck, teeth grazing the sensitive flesh. Then, fully adjusted to his length, you started to move up and down on his cock, the feeling of him stretching your walls overwhelming. 

"You're doing so well," you gulped, your panting warming the side of his throat.

"I want to see you," he managed to murmur out, and his request was promptly granted when you pulled away from his neck.  

His hands slid down to grip your hips when you shifted, guiding them as you bounced. No longer did he need to fantasise about being with you, image you writhing in pleasure as he touched himself. No longer did he need to envision the way you felt around his cock, the way you moaned; it was now his reality. Hell, even Arthur's wicked fantasies couldn't have prepared him for this. Nor the words that left your mouth next, sending him spiralling. 

"Let go, Arthur. Cum for me."  

He did.

And hard. 

His orgasm rocked him to the core, and you milked him for all he had, his hot spurts of cum coating your walls. Both your paces slowed, becoming sloppy as you came crashing down seconds later. 

Deathly tired, you collapsed on top of his chest, exhausted. The only sound that could be heard were your frantic breaths, and you could've sworn your heart too, considering how hard it was beating. As you both took a minute to calm, neither of you move from each other, his cock still buried within you. 

Only when you felt him soften did you slowly depart, rolling beside him. Arthur's grew heavy when you did, though they tried to resist the weight of his lethargy. He managed to twist his frame over to you, giving you one last kiss, the taste of yourself prominent in the heartfelt and passionate kiss, before he finally gave in. 

Sleep gripped your forms. 

———

Arthur stirred at the alien sensation of warmth next to him. Your naked body was pressed against his, head leaning on his chest as his arms protectively enveloped your frame. It took a few moments for this to register, and a lot more minutes for him to realise this was real; that this wasn't a dream - a product of his imagination.

He hadn't woken up in his own bed with his sheets dirtied from, well, his...dreams. 

Everything had actually happened yesterday. 

Your beautiful form was really there in his grasp, face relaxed with soft exhales leaving your nose. He could feel the breath against his skin, a perception his body reacted to on its own.

Don't start, he thought, scolding himself. 

Perhaps it was his staring that had woken you next, or the soft, dulled yellow tone of the suns rays projecting past the white curtains. He wasn't sure. But, when your (e/c) eyes bore into his, fluttering open with a grin he knew he'd never get used to, he realised it didn't matter. Its appearance always managed to sucker punch him in his gut, make his heart stop. And if that was the way he was going to die, fuck, he really couldn't complain. He'd choose it if he could. Your radiance was sincerely otherworldly to him, angelic - personally constructed and moulded by the angels themselves.  

"Goodmorning," you yawned, arching your back into a stretch. Soft groans left your lips and pops from your joints filled the air. Arthur's finger trailed your spine, forcing you to shiver.

"Morning," he replied lazily, a drowsy smile gracing his lips.

"I don't wanna get upppp" you whined, voice still affected by sleep as you nuzzled into him. 

"We don't have to," Arthur shot you a look, one you were quickly starting to identify as his sex expression. Its appearance forced you to roll your eyes playfully, something he laughed at. 

"Maybe later, loverboy."

After one soft morning kiss, you both decided it was best to do the complete opposite of what you wanted and get up. 

As you both tossed on the discarded clothes from your nightly activities, Arthur beat you to the kitchen, refusing to let you sort your breakfast out. Your giggles decorated the hallway as you admitted defeat, knowing he wasn't going to give in. In no time, Arthur had somehow transformed into a chef, something he casually brushed off, stating he learned for his mother. 

Not long after, a long metallic groan - of hinges - sounded. Then, frantic footsteps littered the hallway, a short form entering the kitchen soon after, eyes observing the scene before them.

"Are those pancakes?" The boy asked, looking between you and Arthur. 

Arthur winked at (C/n). It was enough confirmation for the kid and his feet lept off the ground repeatedly. His cute red pyjamas had green patterns of t-rex's scattered across the fabric, a fact he exhibited to Arthur every few minutes. 

So, this was what having a family felt like, Arthur thought, smiling. 

When Arthur eventually finished cooking and experimenting with pancake shapes (he had managed to morph yours into the outline of a heart and (C/n)'s into Pacman), he was the last to join the table. 

Excited to take a chuck out of his consumable masterpiece, Arthur sipped on his water. But, before he could move on, the boy's words across from him, stopped him, forcing the liquid back into its glass. 

Arthur damn near choked. Deep coughs emerged from his chest, and while he was repulsed by the sight of his saliva swirling with the chilled drink, it was the least of his worries with the child's words buzzing around his head. 

"Does this mean you're my dad now?!"

———

Side note: I was genuinely considering putting the summary as ‘Arthur shoots people and gets laid lol’ because I couldn’t think of anything. I need help PFTT

[kusunogatari]

[ ObiRyū October | Day Seventeen | Trick or Treating ] [ @abyssaldespair ] [ Uchiha Obito, Suigin Ryū, Hatake Kakashi ] [ Verse: Best Years of Your Life ]  [ Vulgarity ]

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“Is he here yet?”

“No, not yet.” Very carefully, Ryū applies the last of her makeup. Funnily enough, it doesn’t take much. Just some gaunt, dark makeup around her eyes to make them look sunken and ghastly. She doesn’t even need a wig, her white waves straightened to make a foreboding curtain around her face.

“Ugh, I swear that guy manages to be late at every turn…” Scowling, Kakashi descends the stairs. His own costume is...mostly applied. Ryū just needs to finish wrapping his head, the rest of his mummification already complete. He claims the holiday is lame and for kids, but...she totally noticed him spiffing up what she’s already gotten done.

He might claim Obito’s dragging them out, but she knows he’s actually glad his friend asked.

“It’s not that late yet,” she gently retorts, turning her face to look for anything she’s missed. Just a little black lipstick, and she’ll be done! The second hand store had the perfect white dress, which she’s (temporarily) dirtied for effect. Some carefully tacked-on gauze gives her a spooky look, and just like that: she’s a wraith! “Want me to text him?”

“No, I’ll do it.”

Ryū gives him a glance, a brow perked. He’s standing at one of the windows by the front door, clearly keeping watch. That seemed a little...odd. But she soon shrugs it off. “I hope it doesn’t get too cold...it’s gonna ruin our costumes if we have to wear coats…”

“It’s pretty cloudy, we should be fine. You sure you don’t wanna go to Rin’s party? She said you could go.”

“I know...but I can’t let you dorks go anywhere on your own,” she replies, carefully applying her lipstick. “That’s just asking for trouble.”

“...uh huh. Doesn’t have anything to do with Obito going with me?”

“If Obito weren’t going, you wouldn’t be going. So I guess you could say that,” she counters cheekily.

Kakashi scowls, hidden behind the wrappings on his face.

“Besides, they’re all older than me. It’d be weird. Can’t I just go trick or treating with my brother without being interrogated?”

“Okay one, they’re only about a year older than you. And two, Obito and I are their age, so what’s the difference?”

Ryū turns, pouting. “I’m the odd one out! They all think I’m just a little tagalong. Doesn’t matter that it’s only a year, they still think I’m a twerp. I can tell, they don’t like me…”

Kakashi rolls his eyes. “They like you just fine. You’re just too sensitive.”

“And you’re not sensitive enough!”

It’s then a frantic knock sounds at the door, and they both look to see Obito peeking in the window. “Let me in!” he calls, muffled through the glass.

“About time,” Kakashi mutters under his breath, opening the door. “What took you so long?”

“I had to fix my facepaint, it started melting!” Staggering through the door, Obito arrives in all his zombie glory. Scars left uncovered, he instead has a fake wound on his forehead, and...well, it looks like it’s actually bleeding, given that the paint is indeed starting to ooze.

“Oh, jeez...here, lemme see.” Ryū crosses the gap, a makeup remover napkin in hand. “I can make a new one with some makeup that won’t run. You’ve got it on here way too thick, that’s why it’s being goopy, silly.”

“Uh -?” Not given a chance to refuse, Obito finds himself dragged to the mirror in the main hall, Ryū quickly getting to work. “...you know how to do that?”

“Yeah, duh. We did a workshop on it in theater class, remember?”

“I didn’t do that one, I did props!”

“Well maybe you should have done makeup instead,” she teases, cleaning his forehead. “Now hold still.”

Kakashi, arms crossed, watches the pair with a halfhearted glower. “Hurry up, it’s almost dark. We’re gonna run out of time.”

“It’ll just take me a minute! Obito should get to look the part, too. Have a little patience big bro.”

“Yeah big bro,” Obito echoes, grinning.

“Shut up or I’ll give you a real wound, instead.”

“What crawled up your ass and died, Kakashi?”

He heaves a curt breath, not wanting to admit it. “...nothing. I just want to get this over with since it was all your idea.”

“Says the guy who can’t stop fiddling with his costume to make sure it’s just right,” Ryū retorts. “Admit it, Kakashi - this is gonna be fun! You don’t have to be such a stick in the mud all the time.”

“Trick or treating is for kids.”

“And we’re still kids,” she reminds him, leaning out past Obito to look at him. “Stop trying to grow up so fast! We’re not gonna think any less of you for letting loose and having fun sometimes.”

“...okay maybe I will, but that’s just cuz I have to make fun of you,” Obito offers, pretending to flinch as Ryū lightly baps his arm. “Kidding, kidding!”

Kakashi just rolls his eyes. “Someone around here has to have some sense.”

“Hey, Ryū’s got plenty of sense, and she’s not a jerk!”

Blinking, she flushes a light pink.

“She’s also too easily swayed by your shenanigans, so that doesn’t count,” Kakashi counters dryly.

“Well maybe she just likes to have fun!”

“Okay guys, c’mon, enough arguing,” she cuts in with a sigh. “Obito, how’s that look?”

Not realizing she was done, he leans in toward the mirror. “Whoa! That looks so cool!”

Her pink cheeks get pinker. “Think that’ll work for tonight?”

“Yeah! Thanks!”

“You’re welcome!”

“Okay, now are we ready to go?”

Ryū holds up a hand. “One sec!”

Kakashi groans, head tossing back as she dashes upstairs.

“Y’know, you didn’t have to say you’d go,” Obito offers, crossing the room to stand beside him.

“Ryū wanted to go.”

“Doesn’t mean you have to.”

“Yeah, actually, it does.”

“Why?”

Another grumble. “...cuz I’m her brother. I don’t want her out alone after dark with anybody.”

“What, you don’t trust me?”

“I trust you the least.”

“Aww, why? You know I’d never -!”

“Just nevermind,” Kakashi mutters, edging too close to a rather sensitive topic.

“Okay, back!” Ryū hurries back to the main level. “Here!”

“What’s this?”

“They’re trick or treating bags, duh! Gotta have something to hold all our goodies, right? We made them this week in Home Ec for the elementary school students. I had some extra time, so...I made us all some! They’re based on our costumes.”

“Dude, this is awesome - thanks!” Obito holds out his bag, which sports a felt zombie face on it. “Is there anything you don’t know how to do?”

Kakashi deadpans as she blushes again. “W-well yeah, plenty of things.”

“...okay, anything else, or are we good to go?”

“All right all right, let’s hit the street!” Bag in one hand, Obito holds his aloft, staggering and dragging a foot toward the door.

“Obito, come on! We won’t even make it to the neighbor’s if you go that slow!”

Rather than replying, he just groans.

This is going to be a looong night, Kakashi can’t help but mutter mentally.

Once they get outside, Ryū pushes against Obito’s back to speed him along, earning a laugh as he breaks character. “Save that for when we’re closer to the doors!”

“You don’t like my zombie walk?”

“I like it just fine, but you’re too slow! Kakashi’s right, we don’t have all night. Don’t be a walker, be a runner!”

“What, like...this?!” Spinning around, Obito makes a wild sound, reaching out and making Ryū squeal in surprise as he starts chasing her.

“I’m a ghost, you dork - I don’t have a brain for you to eat!”

“That makes two of you,” Kakashi calls from behind them

“Hey, shut up!”

“Don’t run ahead.”

“First I’m too slow, now I’m too fast. Make up your mind, Kakashi!”

They reach the first house, everyone huddling up on the doorstep as Ryū rings their doorbell. A young couple opens the door, marveling at their costumes before giving them each a heaping handful into their bags.

“Hey, so are we gonna trade each other for stuff we don’t like when we get back?” Obito asks, looking into his bag.

“Maybe, if we have enough time.”

“Kakashi do you even like candy?”

“I like the sour ones. And dark chocolate.”

“I like mint and chocolate!” Ryū pipes up. “Ooh, and peanut butter!”

“Eh, I’m not too picky. Sweet is sweet to me.”

They slowly make their way around the neighborhood, visiting house after house and dodging gaggles of younger kids pursued by their parents. They even manage to cross paths with a few others from their classes.

“See! I told you we’re not too old,” Ryū teases her half brother with a grin.

“Obito and I are still pushing it,” he counters. “Most of our classmates are probably at parties instead.”

“And yet you’re here with the cool kids.”

He snorts. “Debatable.”

They even manage to cross paths with a teacher from the school, his wife helping take their son for a round of trick or treating. Ryū hoists the little blond to her hip, cooing over his fox costume. Naruto is quickly a bundle of giggles at her attentions.

“She’s pretty good with kids, huh?”

Kakashi glances to his friend. “She’s been babysitting for them.”

“Whoa, really?”

“Mhm. It lets her earn a little spending money, and she’s learning some responsibility.”

“And practicing for being a mom.”

The Hatake’s expression sours. “If she wants to be one, sure.”

“She’d be a great mom! She’s super sweet and patient.”

“Good thing, since it lets her put up with you.”

“Hey!”

As the evening ages, the trio decide to call it a night. Each of their bags are rather swollen with goodies, and Ryū digs through her own eagerly.

“Wow, there’s a lot more here than I thought we’d get!”

“Good thing we went down that side street - they had the best haul!” Obito agrees, peering into her bag. “A lot better than my neighborhood. Everyone’s so stingy…”

“So you’re just here to loot ours?” Kakashi asks, brow perking as Obito goes pink.

“No!”

“He’s just teasing,” Ryū assures him, rolling her eyes. “Come on, let’s get back and trade!”

They return to the Hatake household, sitting in a circle on the living room floor. Each dumps out a little candy mountain at their front.

Right off the bat, Kakashi hands over everything but sours and dark chocolates to his sister, who in turn gives hers of his favorites. He’s left with a bit of a small pile, but he doesn’t really care. Sweets aren’t his thing.

“Okay Obito, what can we trade?”

“Uh…” He rummages around. “I’ve got some chocolate and mint stuff. Not much with peanut butter, though.”

“Okay! What do you want that I’ve got?”

They start haggling, Kakashi unwinding the bandages on his face enough to chew some sour Starbursts. He can’t help but be amused at how seriously they take it. Unlike himself, they both sport some pretty hefty sweet teeth.

“But that’s not fair!”

“I don’t want them!”

“Then take some more of these!”

“It’s fine!”

“Ryū, he said he doesn’t want them,” Kakashi cuts in, getting tired of their babble.

“But -!”

“Are we going to watch a scary movie?”

The question acts as the perfect distraction. The other two teens blink. “...are we?”

“Might as well sit and watch something while we eat all this, huh?” Kakashi pops another Starburst.

Obito glances to a clock. “It’s kinda late, though. Should I head home?”

“Aww, already?” Ryū gives Kakashi a pleading look. “Can he stay?”

“What?”

“Tomorrow’s Sunday, it’s not like we need to be up for school! He can just sleep over after the movie. We can put the inflatable mattress in your room!”

A hint of suspicion colors his gaze. “You’re gonna have to make extra breakfast.”

“I don’t mind! Pleeease? We’re having so much fun, I don’t wanna quit yet!”

Ugh, she’s too convincing for her own good. “Fine...I’ll make some popcorn. Go find a movie.”

“Yay!”

...he’s going to regret this, isn’t he?

Throwing a bag of popcorn into the microwave, Kakashi subtly watches into the living room. Ryū and Obito both look over Netflix, trying to find a good movie.

“No, not that one! It’s too scary!”

“I thought that’s the point?”

“I wanna be able to sleep tonight!”

“Nothing to be scared of! Kakashi and I will be here, right?”

“W-well, yeah...but -?”

“Okay, let’s keep looking. Scaredy cat.”

“Am not!”

Obito just chuckles. “How about this?”

“...okay.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

Kakashi just rolls his eyes, splitting the popcorn three ways. “Here.”

Lights turned out, they start the movie.

Like most horror films, it starts out slow. Ryū, wedged between the boys, sinks into her seat and subconsciously munches her popcorn, staring at the screen. And despite his usual boredom with the genre, even Kakashi pays attention.

And then the first jumpscare happens.

“Eep!”

Kakashi flinches as Ryū shrieks, shying back from her slightly as his ear complains. But then he glances over to check on her.

And she’s curled up into Obito’s shoulder.

His eye gives a slight twitch.

Obito, watching wide-eyed, hasn’t really reacted. But a few minutes later, when another shot of the movie’s monster flashes across the screen, he lifts an arm without breaking his stare at the screen to let her closer.

Maybe this was a bad idea.

By the end, neither of them have moved. Only once Kakashi flicks on a light do they both jolt, realizing their positions.

“...time for bed,” Kakashi then mutters. “C’mon Obito, help me set up the air mattress.”

“Uh...right.”

Ryū scurries to the bathroom to brush her teeth, the boys awkwardly heading to Kakashi’s room.

Kakashi doesn’t say a word, letting Obito stew in it for a while.

“So, uh...Ryū really doesn’t like scary movies, huh?”

Here we go. “She likes ones with ghosts. Gore bugs her, though.”

“Really? Doesn’t she want to be a nurse?”

“Mhm.”

“...then -?”

“There’s a difference between real world injuries and overdone movie wounds,” Kakashi sighs as he throws some blankets over the temporary mattress. “If it’s too over the top, it freaks her out. Besides, she’s only sixteen. She’ll get over it before she actually gets into med school.”

“...right.”

More awkward silence.

“Does she, uh…”

“Does she what?”

“Does she...like me?”

Oh brother. “She seems to tolerate you pretty well, yea.”

“That’s not what I mean! I mean does she...like me?”

“How should I know? Ask her if you’re so curious.”

“I can’t just ask her that!”

“Why not?”

“Cuz -!” Okay, he doesn’t really have a reason. “...it would be weird.”

“Weird.”

“Yeah!”

“What are you, twelve? No wonder you’ve never had a girlfriend.”

“Maybe I haven’t wanted one!”

Kakashi deadpans. “...do you like her?”

Obito flashes pink. “...I dunno. I...I guess so.” A pause. “...is that...bad?”

“You tell me.”

“I mean, you’re her brother, and…” Something seems to sink in. “...oh…”

“Yeah. ‘Oh’.” Finished, Kakashi just glances to his friend. “...you’re an idiot, but...apparently she’s into that sort of thing.”

“...wait, she -?”

“Yeah. If you weren’t thick as a brick wall, you’d have noticed by now.”

Suddenly Obito is far more nervous. “...are you mad?”

Kakashi sighs. “...no. I just worry. That’s what big brothers do.”

“...sooo…?”

“...so...just don’t fuck it up. Then I won’t have a reason to get mad.”

“Er...right. Okay.”

“Okay guys, bathroom’s free! G’night!”

Obito fumbles for a moment. “G-goodnight!”

“Night,” Kakashi calls back. Once he’s ready for bed, he slips under his covers, hearing Obito do the same.

...well, breakfast is going to be interesting.

     Well this is...late and a bit on the short side, but I ran out of time. Today was busy and I ran out of steam =w= But it’s done! Also got to rest run the sub-verse idea of Ryū and Kakashi being related cuz I just like the vibe :3      Anywho, just some silly fluff with out favorite dorks. Makes me sad trick or treating won’t really be a thing this year (if people are smart, anyway).       ...I’d say more but I’m tired :’D Thanks for reading!

[mariantoina]

thoughts on t*sp

look. at first i told myself that i wasn’t gonna watch this show, and then the very next day it got leaked so i was like “you know what? im gonna watch it anyway!” and thats the worst decision that ive ever made in my life because this show was... bad. could it have been worse? definitely, given the fact that it was an emma frost show based on a philippa gregory book. but this was still terrible enough for me to type this post up, so here we go!

i can guarantee you that you’ll have a more fun time reading this post than you will watching TSP. this is under a read more because.. whew.. theres a lot.

THE CASTING

first and foremost: the actress playing KOA cannot act. she’s really pretty, granted, but her acting was genuinely terrible. like.. i cringed almost every time there was a scene terrible. not only was her spanish accent bad but she felt so.. stiff, i guess would be a good word, whenever she said something. and that didn’t do anything to help the fact that she has a bad case of ScarJo Fever™ (if you don’t know what that is: it’s when an actor/actress only makes the same three facial expressions) people need to stop hiring actresses and actors just because they’re attractive and actually make sure that they can act. at this point, i am Begging!

the actor playing harry was actually good though, at least in my opinion. he did his best with what he was given and i really admire that! you can tell that he was putting a lot of effort into it, even though the way that they wrote him was really out of character for that period of his life (see: this post)

h7′s actor was good in the scenes that he was in, but the way that they treated h7 was so.. weird? they didn’t make him as creepy as i thought that they were going to when i first found out they were making an adaptation of TCP, but there was still this lowkey creepy vibe that he had going on.. i honestly dont know how to explain it, but it was there. also he slapped the shit out of harry in a scene??? that was messy as HELL

the actress for margaret beaufort was good, but there were some scenes that just had me like.. oh? on god? (most notably the death scene, but i’ll get into that hot mess later) you could tell that she was trying hard, even if they made MB’s character arc terrible.

the actors that played lina and her love interest were amazing, though. they worked with what they had and i really liked what they did with them even though the writing was shit. the scene with their wedding was adorable and really well acted!

angus imrie (arthur) was good, too! but the wig that they gave him? atrocious. i’m going to see it in my nightmares. georgie henley was really good in the scenes that we saw her in as meg tudor, but most of the scenes she was in weren’t that good and that’s wack :’)

i don’t know the name of the actress that played juana of castile in the episode she was in, but i liked her acting, too.. even though the writing for her was kind of cringy.

before i end this section i should let it be known that i was more attached to juana, meg and arthur in the few episodes they were in than i was to KOA during the entire show. it’s so tragic like. how are you going to cast a lead actress that cant act?? Hello???

before i get into the issues with the writing and creative direction i have with the show, i just wanna say: the pacing of the show was terrible and really, really difficult to follow. the entirety of the second episode, which followed from their KOA/arthur marriage to arthur’s death, probably had the worst pacing. it felt like only a few weeks had passed in the show’s time, when it was supposed to be what? six months? and there was so indication of a timeskip between episode 6 and episode 7, even though juana was still in england at the end of episode 6 and h7 died about 10 minutes into episode 7? it’s so tragic.

okay, moving on!

THE CREATIVE DIRECTION

look. i get that it’s a show and of course there’s going to be historical license but... GOD this show went above and beyond.

there’s so much i want to say here, but the most important one that i have an issue with is the shit that they did with lina’s character. erasing the fact that she was a slave owned by ferdinand and isabella and then later given to KOA was absolutely terrible. and then not only did they do that AND make her KOA’s most loyal lady-in-waiting, but they erased the fact that she was forced to convert to christianity, forced to stop using her birth name and instead having to use the name of her new owner in the name of #StrongFemaleFriendships. disgusting!

EF: lina is KOA’s most faithful servant and they have a strong female friendship!! hashtag woke!! hashtag feminism!! my black ass:

honestly it gets even worse because KOA and lina’s “central female friendship” was barely even there. lina had more scenes with rosa, one of KOA’s other ladies-in-waiting, than she did with KOA. not to mention that KOA was manipulative to lina and kept saying stuff like “you owe me service” or stuff along those lines? it was so shitty. lina sweetie im so sorry that this ugly ass bitch would even try you

the next big thing that i had a problem with was the fact that they aged up harry, when in reality he was about 11 years old when KOA first came to england. like, i can’t really go that much into it because even thinking about the fact that they aged him up to make him Arthur’s Hotter, All-Around-Better Brother™ when he was fucking 11 makes me kinda sick but. ughh it was terrible.

not to mention the fact that they villainized margaret beaufort because of course they did. apparently you cant be a middle aged woman without being villainized?? especially not in an emma frost show. but the way that they villainized her was so ugly. and the fact that they attributed shit like edmund dudley’s execution to her when it happened an entire year after she died? Hello????

the way that she just took over and declared herself regent when h7 was in mourning for elizabeth of york and kicked KOA out of the palace + the way she tried to threaten margaret pole & lina into revealing that KOA wasn’t a virgin.. shgkhhgsfhgkshjbjsjb that shit was so fucking messy its like they tried to make her a fusion of mother gothel from tangled and ursula from the little mermaid

the way that they made EoY dislike KOA was so weird? and the way that both her and margaret beaufort assaulted her by kissing and groping her respectively was weird and definitely uncalled for.

this is a minor one in the gist of some of the other things but why did they make EoY’s last daughter a stillborn child? someone correct me if i’m wrong, but didn’t she live for about a week before she died? but then again, i remember that she named their daughter after KOA, so they probably did that to avoid the fact because they made EoY hate her. messy

arthur’s wig counts as a creative decision right? well whoever gave him that wig needs to be fired. PERIOD

arthur’s wig:

me:

whoever did meg tudor’s costumes also needs to be fired tbfh they were so bad. what did she ever do to yall

THE WRITING

i guess that writing can go into the creative direction category as well, but there were so many problems with the writing that it deserves its own category

KOA was so terrible in this. between her manipulating harry and lina, and the fact that she kept defending the fact that isabella abused juana because “our mother was a queen, a warrior” was ugly! “tO bE qUeEn oF eNgLaNd iS mY dEsTiNy” girl if you don’t shut ya mouth catching these hands is gonna be your destiny

they also made KOA put all of her faith in the fact that she was related to queens? like, every time juana said she couldn’t do something because her husband + ferdinand are assholes, or every time isabella was brought up she kept being like “but you’re/she’s a queen!” it was irritating

all of the predictions about the great matter/KOA not being able to give harry a son were weird. i would have been fine if it had only been like.. one time, because sometimes foreshadowing can be good, but it was brought up every 5 seconds and at the most random times. like when EoY was literally dying in childbirth?? Hello????? god are you there??

AND THE FACT THAT EOY STRAIGHT UP WENT TO HELL AND SAW HER BROTHER GETTING EXECUTED THEN CAME BACK. HELLO??

then when margaret beaufort was about to die and she saw ghosts? and jasper tudor showed up to take her to hell i guess? honestly i didnt know what the fuck was going on but that shit was so fucking messy and wild. i have to laugh

also: i mentioned this earlier but all of those scenes where harry was ranting and raging.. EF really saw the name “henry viii” and floored it with that huh

they also dumbed harry down imho.. Wack!

juana seducing harry was a hot ass mess in its own right, but honestly? juana and harry had more chemistry in that one minute scene than KOA and harry had in the entire show

we were not even 10 minutes into the pilot and they were already trying to portray isabella as a #WokeFeministQueen. how, you might ask? why, by showing her leading a group of men to kill black muslims for their faith, of course! didn’t you know that being racist and islamophobic is hip and feminist when you’re a queen?

like i get that its from KOA’s point of view but in the opening monologue of the pilot they mentioned that isabella overthrew the moors like it was a #Feminist thing to do and not a part of her orchestrating massacres and contributing to genocide? @ EF: on GOD??

tbh? shocked that KKKristopher KKKolonizer wasn’t mentioned in a positive light based on how much they tried to glorify isabella. like what catholic monarchs stan was allowed to work on this show with EF and P. Gregory?? hello????

i’m totally fine with the whole plot point about katherine lying about her virginity, since we’ll probably never know the truth about whether or not she and arthur consummated their marriage, but it was poorly executed in both the writing and in CH’s acting. i could tell that she was lying and so did.. almost everyone, really.

the scene where they were about to.. i guess lynch lina’s love interest for “stealing” made me really uncomfortable. i dont even know how to explain it

h7′s death scene.... this is all i have to say about it

margaret beaufort ordering the execution of edmund dudley was shitty for a lot of reasons but honestly him screaming “fuck you all to hell” was hilarious

the ending scene of episode 7 where they were in the chapel and henry asked KOA if she was still a virgin was bad writing and CH’s acting made it even worse. cant even lie convincingly smh

margaret pole’s plotline was so confusing.. i barely knew wtf was going on with her the entire show? it all felt so rushed and forced. it was weird

EoY and h7 had some cute scenes together though. and that was like.. one of the shows only real redeeming qualities

that’s about it for this post about TSP! my overall rating for it is a 0.5/10. it was super shitty, but i liked arthur, juana and meg tudor so it gets a 0.5 instead of a plain 0. and apparently theres one episode left too.. DREADING it. anyways: emma frost absolutely failed in her goal to be like “its not all about anne boleyn!” because if anything this show made me think about how claire foy and natalie dormer were both robbed of awards so.. if reading this post gave you hives? go watch wolf hall or the tudors for their great performances!

thanks for reading! :)

[wigwurq]

WIG REVIEW: AVENGERS - ENDGAME

You guys can you believe I saw a Marvel movie within like 5 days of its release? I DID IT! AND NOW I CAN WRITE A LOT OF SPOILERS - READ ON ONLY IF YOU HAVE SEEN THIS 3 HOUR MARVEL OPUS TO ITSELF! But what about the wigs? OH GURL. LET’S DISCUSS.

We begin in the Mid-waste (I think?) where Hawkeye has been taking some time out of the fight and hanging by a sleeping tree, Bran-style (oh get ready for a lot of GoT crossover comments as I saw this right after the Battle of Winterfell episode and I might get my nerdy details conflated). Anyhoo, did you know that Hawkeye is married to Linda Cardellini? Is she just the supportive wife in everything? Side note: this fact might have existed in an earlier MCU movie. To be fair, I have seen MOST MCU movies (except Thor 2 and Spider-Man and I’m not correcting that) and only saw the other ones like once so I was going into this movie like most of America: vaguely confused about former facts and really exhausted about where this 3 hour movie was about to take me. ANYWAY, Hawkeye’s entire family vanishes like at the end of Infinity War and ugh I see what you’re doing Endgame: this movie is gonna be a BUMMER.

Iron Man of course lightens the mood with some cute banter with Nebula but also: they’re fully about to die in the space void and did RDJr lose a lot of weight or is this just that Marvel technology they used to make Chris Evans look spindly in the first Captain America? Anyway, things are looking BLEAK but then our girl Captain Marvel shows up and saves the day.

Back on earth, the Avengers are really bummed out about half the population being gone (but not so bummed out that ScarJo and “Best” Chris Evans haven’t taken some time to get haircuts - they look great!) But no time for  hair maintenance talk: Brie Larson is ready to go back to space! Also her hair looks good! This movie was made before Captain Marvel and it looks like they just used her real hair and it’s so much better than her wig in that movie. 

Anyway, to space! Wait, now Brie is wearing a wig. UGH. Dammit, space! However, I think this is ScarJo’s real blonde hair (a more natural look than her blonde bob wig seen in Infinity War) and what a long strange trip it’s been since Black Widow’s first perm to her mall hair in Age of Ultron and beyond. Thank the lord for this lewk. 

So the (remaining) Avengers land on whatever planet Thanos is living on now and apparently he’s using old Avengers costumes as Scarecrows? Ok I know we’re supposed to hate this guy but he’s all for population control, gardens, AND now recycling are we sure we hate him? The Avengers definitely still hate him and after learning that he destroyed all the jewelry he spent all of Infinity War finding, they are PISSED. Thor is so pissed he kills him! Which is a super hot-headed thing to do and is basically as bad as “worst” Chris Pratt’s behavior with Thanos in Infinity War and will these alpha males ever learn??? How are they gonna reverse this whole half of the population missing thing now?

Spoiler (haha these are all spoilers!): THEY DON’T. FIVE EFFING YEARS PASS. And in real movie time, at least like 45 minutes? In which we’re supposed to believe that Black Panther (and other notable Avengers but mainly Black Panther) are going to remain dead. GET ON WITH IT MOVIE. Even more damning: Black Widow is now a sad sad lady making sad sandwiches alone and with THIS HAIR LEWK. I was so damn happy for ScarJo to be wigless and THEN THIS. WHAT IN OMBRE HELL. I think (?) what we’re supposed to think is happening here is that she’s so damn sad that she’s failed at hair maintenance and let her blonde highlights grow out into this mess? Here’s the thing, this wig is actually fine - it looks like real hair - but with A TERRIBLE DYE JOB WHY UGH. 

Speaking of new lewks, ScarJo still skypes with the remaining Avengers (bless her heart!) and Captain Marvel went ahead and got THIS HAIRCUT WHAT. I guess the internet can stop talking about how much she needs a scrunchie? I think that this is actually truer to her comic book self but also is giving me all the Lilith Fair vibes (IN A GREAT WAY!) It is still a bad wig in a man wig way (the back taper is a mess) but you’ve gotta love the 90s gelled sideswept bangs for pure nostalgia. 

Speaking of nostalgia! Ant-Man is back from the quantum realm and damn am I happy to see Paul Rudd (ALWAYS). He is shocked to learn that five years have passed while he was gone (this storyline is very Flight of the Navigator) and goes to find his now teenage daughter even tho he looks exactly the same (tho this would be true regardless - Paul Rudd doesn’t age). However, she’s all alone in her house with no Judy Greer or Bobby Cannavale in sight and does this mean they’re vanished or just not in this movie? Is this daughter being raised by Michael Pena now? Also why isn’t he there? EVERYONE IS IN THIS MOVIE I DEMAND ANSWERS. 

So anyway, Paul Rudd is all: why don’t we just time travel through the quantum realm and get those damn jewels and fix this whole Thanos situation? Best Chris and ScarJo are in, but Michael Douglas and Michelle Pfeiffer are the real pros at this whole quantum realm thing but are definitely vanished (as is Evangelline Lilly) so they go find Iron Man since he’s smart, right? Unfortunately, he is now living in a cabin by a lake and has a daughter (mazel! but this is def gonna throw a wrench into the time travel thing). Also Gwyneth is around looking tanned and vaguely ginger. Her wig is basically a more expensive, highlighted version of Nicole Kidman’s wig in Big Little Lies which is to say: MUCH BETTER BUT STILL PRETTY SHITTY. There is also a “joke” (?) about Gwyneth reading a book about composting which I think was supposed to be a Goop dig but honestly: WE DON’T HAVE TIME FOR THAT THIS MOVIE IS ALREADY SO LONG CAN WE JUST GET TO SAVING BLACK PANTHER AND THE OTHERS?

Iron Man def is like: dudes I’m not time traveling - I’m gonna do this whole dad thing WHICH IS FAIR so they go find the like #5 smartest person they know: DR. HULK. There are no pictures of this (that I could find) but Bruce Banner is now living life just AS the Hulk (but not an angry one) so he’s basically a bulky green guy in glasses which is fine but where does he buy those huge cowl sweaters? Asking for myself. Also ScarJo finds Hawkeye in Tokyo being some sort of hooded vigilante with a fauxhawk and guyliner and jeez someone is not dealing well without Linda Cardellini. 

Also not dealing well? THOR! #2 Chris is off in Asgard living life with the best supporting characters from Thor: Ragnarok (TAIKA WAITITI 4EVR) and LETTING HISSELF GO. Oh also, Tessa Thompson is there too being a fisherman (?!?!?!) even tho she’s an effing valkyrie how did she get this job?!?! But I have to give full credit to Chris Hemsworth for fully embracing the deglam life here and for the next several hours of this movie. DEGLAM THOR IS EVERYTHING. 

However, the wig is obviously terrible. ZZTop beard aside, the wig is these weird dreadlock tendrels which I’m guessing Thor wouldn’t have had time to maintain between playing video games, drinking beer, and eating pizza. Side note: I was really disappointed that he wasn’t eating Billy’s Pan Pizza (Lisbeth Salander’s #1 food choice in Sweden through all of those terrible books) which I actually tried in Iceland once and spoiler alert: original flavor INVOLVES HAM. Just saying: the devil’s in the details. Anyway, Thor and Iron Man decide to give this whole time travel thing a try (why not?) AND YES ONCE REASSEMBLED, IRON MAN’S FIRST POINT OF BUSINESS IS MAKING A BIG LEBOWSKI JOKE.

Iron Man somehow whips up some time travel gps bracelet and holy shit all of the Avengers movies are literally about jewelry. Then it’s on to making some sweet new time travel suits, Hawkeye gelling up that fauxhawk, and away we go to the quantum realm! Nothing bad can happen!

First stop: the first Avengers movie! OH GOD I SEE WHAT THEY’RE DOING HERE. The MCU literally made a plot where they could journey back to all the other MCU movies like a greatest hits tour and THIS MOVIE IS ENDLESS. This also involves journeying back to the ghosts of wigs past AND GURL I’M SHOOK. I guess I have to give credit to the MCU for wig consistencies - these wigs are as shitty as the originals! - and I guess they saved a lot in the already nonexistent wig budget. Also TILDA EFFING SWINTON IS THERE. This cast, dudes. Dr. Hulk and Tilda have a whole Back to the Future (which they make fun of in this movie, btw and I wasn’t here for it) discussion about time travel that I pretty much zoned out on until Tilda was just like eff it: here’s the jewelry you want, you seem pretty chill now, Dr. Hulk. 

Oh and Tom Hiddleston’s shitty Loki wig is back! Jesus Christ this wig. Also, Robert Redford is back? How do I not remember him being talked into the MCU?? Anyway, the jewelry Iron Man and Best Chris were looking for is DEFINITELY snatched by Loki so they have to figure out a new time travel scenario.

Oh and Best Chris and Iron Man totally made up after being at odds for the last 2-3 Avengers movies. Also what do we think the hairspray budget was for these two? There is also a LOT of talk about Best Chris’s ass in this movie (they literally refer to it as America’s Ass) and I feel like this could very much be its own movie with maybe some added Best Chris badass twitter wars. Just saying. 

Meanwhile, back in olde timey Asgard circa Thor 2, RENE RUSSO IS BACK (also Natalie Portman LOLOL everyone is in these movies). However, Sir Anthony Hopkins is definitely not wasting time on this nonsense and: fair. Also omg this wig on Rene. GURL. I don’t know what GoT prostitute dayplayer they stole this from but regardless: it’s a mess. Also apparently, Rene is about to die (I didn’t see Thor 2) and Deglam Thor is a MESS about it (also still very much a drunken mess also). He almost effs up the plan by going and crying on his mom (don’t worry - Bradley Cooper in his best work to date as Rocket Racoon got the jewelry!) And Rene tells Deglam Thor it’s ok to not be who he’s supposed to be an just be HIM which is very good advice OMG I LOVE RENE RUSSO. 

So speaking of parents, Iron Man decided to go find some Infinity Stones in the 70s where his dad, John Slattery is! Apologies for the quality of this picture - it’s the best I could do. Anyway, John Slattery was made for period piece witty repartee tho his man wig (like all man wigs) is a friggin’ mess. He and Iron Man have some fairly emotional dialogue despite the fact that John Slattery doesn’t know that he’s talking to his son and also someone refers to RDJr as Mungo Jerry so I was really down with this whole section of the movie. 

OH AND MICHAEL DOUGLAS IS THERE (again apologies for photo quality). What Marvel does best is face deaging technology (I still demand this be used for more 80s movies Michael Douglas wasn’t able to make at the time) but what Marvel consistently does worse is: wigs, specifically man wigs. WOOF. Regardless, they got all the jewelry they needed from the 70s! Moving on! 

Over in Thanos town (probably what it’s called), nice Nebula is reunited with her former shitty self and also her sister. Jeez this whole part of the movie is family reunions. Anyway, Gamora’s wig is still a Hot Topic mess. Also a mess: Nebula let Thanos into the whole time traveling jewelry snatching heist which will definitely ruin everything.

Meanwhile, over by the cliffs of sorrow (also definitely official name, probably), ScarJo and Hawkeye and their upsetting hair looks are trying to get that one piece of jewelry that can only be gotten with human sacrifice, which they somehow had forgotten since Infinity War when Thanos sacrificed Gamora to get it. Maybe they just weren’t that tight with Gamora and forgot this? Anyway, the most important thing is that ScarJo gave herself these highlight braids which make this whole look slightly better but it’s still really bad. Also bad: one of these characters has to die! In the end it’s ScarJo I think because she doesn’t have a Linda Cardellini to go back to (or 3 kids) but I don’t really like what the MCU is implying here about the value of single ladies but regardless: goodbye ScarJo and your wig! You are probably better than this whole mess anyway!

Anyway, all the (remaining) Avengers time travel back to present day (aka 2023 just go with it) and everyone is so stoked that they got all the jewelry but then bummed when they hear about ScarJo. Side note: I forgot to talk about Iron Man’s highlights and feathered lewk. It’s upsetting! Moving on! Linda Cardellini calls Hawkeye which means this whole time travelling thing worked and they brought back half the population and also most importantly probably Black Panther so go team! But before we can talk to Linda Cardellini, Thanos crash lands into the Avengers HQ AND DAMMIT NEBULA.

So then everyone is somehow transported (?) to Thanos town aka Fightsville which feels like a great place to probably die in the apocalyptic fight FOR JEWELRY. All the Avengers yet again suck at fighting computerized Josh Brolin aka Thanos and then he calls in all his evil space backup army and everyone is definitely effed. It’s a lot like the part in the Battle of Winterell when the Night King does a Nancy Pelosi clap and reanimates all the dead people to fight the living and Jon Snow cries.

It doesn’t even help when Deglam Thor gives hisself the most wild lightning based makeover. Seriously, he surrounds himself with lightning, gets those badass Total Eclipse of the Heart eyes, and somehow is able to use lightning TO GIVE HIMSELF A HALF UPDO AND BRAID HIS BEARD HAIR AND NO I’M NOT MAKING THIS SHIT UP. The lightning fails to remove his beer belly and again: I’M HERE FOR #2 CHRIS COMMITTING TO THIS DEGLAM BODY. I don’t know the hows and whys of lightning makeovers - I guess it’s just restricted to hair. Which still looks like crap, beard braids or no. Moving on: Best Chris can somehow use Thor’s hammer now and did I miss something? I think it’s a Chris thing and I’m glad that everyone agreed that Worst Chris wasn’t invited to it. But also he’s not there. YET.....

BUT THEN. Dr. Benedict Cumberbatch who I definitely forgot about (and who has the most hilarious American accent) creates all his sparkler circles. Also his whole wig/goatee lewk is like that one adjunct professor you had who kept office hours at a coffee house and/or a part-time vampire. Anyhoo, he BRINGS. BACK. EVERYONE. Black Panther (and all of Wakanda!) Spider-Man! Guardians of the Galaxy! ETC! THE JEWELRY HAND CHANGED HANDS MANY TIMES. THERE WAS SO MUCH GOING ON. Everyone starts kicking ass but it’s still not enough until Captain Marvel and her 90s pixie cut show up and I swear to god all the lady Avengers made a protective barrier around her like the Lilith Fair is serious getting back together (I WISH!) It was all the ladies you love - Valkyrie on a flying horse! Wakandan warriors BUT NOT LUPITA BECAUSE US IS BETTER THAN THIS! Elizabeth Olsen in that terrible red wig! Kate from Lost! Gamora and Nebula I think! - plus also Gwyneth who I totally forgot had an Iron Man suit too but sure! It was a very girl power moment that almost worked but very did not. In a final moment we all saw coming since before Infinity War, Iron Man sacrificed hisself for the jewelry hand (also: humanity). Thanks for your service: the jewelry was saved! OH MY GOD THIS REVIEW IS SO LONG. Am I still writing this? Are you still reading this? THANK YOU FOR READING THIS.

In the end, everyone is saved and reunited...to have a sweet funeral (apologies again for picture quality)! I shit you not: they gave Iron Man’s electric heart a viking funeral at his cabin. Really! And all the other prestige actors you weren’t sure would make it to this movie were there: Marissa Tomei in some sweet beachy waves! Michelle Pfeiffer in some not so sweet beachy waves but whatever: I’m always happy to see her! Michael Douglas! The Winter Soldier in his somehow shittier than Loki wig! That chick from How I Met Your Mother! Other people! Samuel L. Jackson! Oh and I think Iron Man’s daughter is now being co-raised by Jon Favreau? Ok! It was also a funerary co-production for ScarJo and I guess (?) Elizabeth Olsen’s computer boyfriend (aka Paul Bettany) who somehow wasn’t able to be revived by jewelry for reasons unknown. Oh and  where the eff were Bobby Cannavale, Michael Pena OR GODDAMNED JUDY GREER I DEMAND ANSWERS!!!!!

SO THEN. Captain America has to go back in time to return the jewelry because Dr. Hulk promised Tilda Swinton and I still don’t get how time travel works in this movie. Also Dr. Hulk is still running the time travel machine even though the whole Ant-Man crew specializing in this technology are back but ok? It all goes great until Captain America returns IN OLD AGE MAKEUP WHAT. Turns out he took a detour to have a life and get married and huh? He then tells Anthony Mackie that he can be Captain America now - officially making the MCU America of 2023 on the level of real America in 2008 and I can’t believe they didn’t cut to a weeping Jesse Jackson (or at least Don Cheadle?) However, Deglam (still!) Thor makes Valkyrie the King of Asgard which officially makes MCU Asgard of 2023 definitely way better than the America of 2019 (yeah I went there) and then he decides to be a Guardian of the Galaxy which means we get to spend an agonizing 3 minutes with Worst Chris. Then they cut to the 1940s and a slow dancing Best Chris and Hayley Atwell and truly: if you can just time travel and be happy can’t we bring back all the dead Avengers too then? HUH? Whatever: THE END! Oh and there’s no post-credits scene but still watch the first like 5 minutes of credits to enjoy the truly mind boggling way that the MCU chose to credit the 5000 people in this movie. Are we please done with Avengers movies now?

VERDICT: DOESN’T WURQ (BUT NOW I WANT A LIGHTNING MAKEOVER)

[holdoncallfailed]

PLEASE go into more detail abt the prom being disappointing

omg i can't tell if this is sincere or sarcastic but i love to complain so ill just answer it as if it were sincere. also spoilers for the prom i guess

right off the bat maybe i should say that i'm mean and i hate fun and i am in general extremely irked by this weird genre of contemporary high school comedy musical that has cropped up on broadway recently (see also: heathers, mean girls, be more chill, dear evan hansen) so i wasn't really expecting much.

but anyway the musical seems incredibly confused as to who the intended audience is. it's a show about high schoolers ostensibly geared towards young people but the story is told mostly from the POV of the main adult characters who are basically caricatures of broadway stereotypes aka an old queen, a kooky liza minnelli/patti lupone mashup, a washed up tv actor from the 90s obsessed w/ the fact that he went to juilliard, and an aging leggy dancer whose dream it is to play roxy hart. there were a lot of inside jokes about the history of broadway/the theatre world that No One under the age of 55 would get if they weren't totally ingratiated in that universe from like birth i guess. then there was the fortnite dance choreography, a major plot point based on a youtube video, characters constantly taking selfies and making references to current pop culture, and the fact the whole musical is litcherally about a high school prom....so who is this thing for????

moving on to the Problematic(tm) parts i guess: the lesbian character is basically introduced by way of a homophobic attack (someone writes lezbo on her locker door and there's a pink teddy bear hanging from a noose inside) which i found incredibly jarring. the word 'lesbian' alone was almost always delivered in a way that got laughs from the audience. during the pre-prom makeover scene the old queen refers to the main lesbian character as 'butchy' as if it were negative which like. okay.

a huge part of act one is the broadway people being shocked at the backwardness of indiana...there's no saks! the liza lupone character doesn't know what an applebee's is! aren't these hicks just so silly in their ignorance?! it was pretty ugly that the whole audience was busting their ass laughing at these jokes clearly meant to further some coastal elite narrative when tickets weren't that cheap. in act two one of the broadway people convinces all the local teens that they shouldn't dislike gay people because you can't cherry pick what bible verses you do and don't follow. this changes everyone's minds instantly and they all end up supporting the lesbian and her gf at prom. also liza lupone ends up falling in love with the high school principal at some point.

the whole moral of the show is basically that We're All Human Beings :) which is a nice message i guess but it just felt so clearly marketed towards rich old theatre people who want to pat themselves on the back for supporting both the gays and the youth and for high school GSA members desperate for validation.

BESIDES ALL OF THAT, the music/book just wasn't good — it's written by the same people who did the wedding singer musical and it uhhh definitely shows. the choreography was ugly, the costumes were boring, and literally no one's wig fit their head to such an extent that i almost thought it was purposeful. also the main character had a riverdale poster in her room. also there were teenagers in the audience actually wearing prom dresses so i guess there are some big fans out there. anyway wow this was way too long but here you go anon i hope you liked this #official #theatrical #review

[okay-klepto]

How about a sexy calendar?

This was way back when Kerberos was in its infant stages, still just sort of an idea floating around

Well, some members of staff are trying to get people more hyped about missions

Maybe there was a change in management or some failed trials and experiments, but morale had been on the decline for a while, and the people on the Kerberos team needed to rally others’ support for this soon-to-be project

It takes some real thought as to how to get other members of staff around the Garrison on board for upcoming projects and eventually Kerberos

Maybe they could also do something to raise a bit of cash for small things

So what idea gets thrown against the wall and sticks?

A Kerberos Crew Sexy Pin-Up Calendar

Obviously

Bc the Galaxy Garrison is also a school and there are certain regulations that need to be followed (and they’re adults with common sense), there can’t be any actual nudity

But shirts are optional

So it’s more like a “Sexy” Kerberos Calendar

A sensual calendar

A suggestive calendar

Some of the people working on the beginnings of Kerberos volunteer to be models, and of course the members of the flight crew need to pose for this as well

They throw out a bunch of ridiculous and risque ideas, ranging from scenes to poses to outfits

They get twelve planned out for the different months, then throw in some extras as bonus content

bc why not?

And, like girls, they just want to have fun

Matt goes FULL California Gurls Candy Land with glitter Daisy Dukes and lollipop pasties, maybe even some crazy shoes and neon/pastel wigs

They make a little psychedelic candy land for him and he poses with the candy and on the cotton candy clouds

He’s smearing whipped cream all over himself and deep-throating lollipops

And choking right after

Matt hooks his leg around one of the candy cane trees and gives it a long, full-tongue lick while giving bedroom eyes to the camera

He regrets it immediately after

Sam Holt plays the classic role of the Sexy Science Teacher, wearing just a lab coat and pants while doing experiments in a classroom

He also does Sexy Santa for the December page

There are bikini scenes with the lady volunteers, most of the photos being them sensually lounging around the pool or at the beach

Then there are some of them splashing each other or throwing water balloons or just sitting eating ice creams or going way to hard at volleyball

The middle-aged male engineers (who have been at the Garrison since like the beginning of time) throw on women’s “sexy version” costumes while the female engineers wear the regular counterparts for the October page

It’s just a good, light-hearted time all around

People are posing in their underwear with puppies and kittens

Others have on aprons and are doing sexy cooking and housework

Movie themed scenes (me: *thinks about young Harrison Ford in Indiana Jones) and holidays and some people posing on motorcycles or next to muscle cars

It’s amazing since everyone pretty much has a plain, unimpressive body but they just throw that aside to have a good time

But then there’s Shiro

Takashi “God Among Men” Shirogane

I mean

It’s no secret that Shiro is in great shape

Everyone knows he’s just outstandingly handsome and ridiculously muscular

But there’s just something - something - about putting him in old-school basketball short-shorts, oiling him up, and giving him a weightlifting scene to pose for

He’s just all glistening skin as he benches hundreds of pounds, juicy ass threatening to tear his shorts as he dips low for squats

He gives the camera bedroom eyes as he sits with his legs wide and leans on his knee to do bicep curls

He flicks the hair out of his eyes as he runs on the treadmill, exposing a sweat-covered neck

Everyone is in shock, but Shiro is nervous and embarrassed as hell before, during, and after the entire shoot

He thinks he’s should be wearing a little bit more and that his nipples are sticking out and that he’s being just too much

(He shouldn’t be, they are but who cares, and he’s not)

(Thank you Matt for encouraging him)

They also give him the page for February (bc it’s his birth month), and he’s dressed up in a well-fitted three-piece suit in a candle-lit dining room scene with a bottle of wine in his hand for Valentine’s Day

It was really just supposed to be him posing like he’s eating dinner with someone special, having chocolates and wine

But then someone (Matt) suggests something in the bedroom...

And then Shiro is completely topless, sprawled out on a silk-sheet and rose-petal covered bed with a rose in his mouth, looking up at the camera with his eyes half-lidded

They also somehow manage to get him to pose in jean booty shorts and a white tank top for a sexy car washing scene as the cover of the calendar

That is a favorite

(bc Shiro would TOTALLY win a wet t-shirt contest if the opportunity arose)

(And those booty shorts only covered like half his ass)

They also have whole group shoots

One is Baywatch themed

(Shiro somehow ended up being the only one in a speedo)

 And the other is Sexy Santa with Sexy Elves

They even manage to get Iverson to be in one of the photos, though he’s not doing much sexy posing

But hey, it’s still funny

When the calendar comes out, it’s a BIG HIT

Almost everyone on staff buys one just bc they think it’s funny

And there’s one in nearly every teachers’ lounge at the Garrison

Some students try to get their hands on a copy or two or try to sneak into a teachers’ lounge to see the photos

Bc the calendars are not for students and they should not be seeing some of their teachers in such attire or in such poses

It’s mainly Shiro people want to see

So even though it wasn’t really on brand with the Garrison and they didn’t take it super seriously, the calendar turns out to be a very effective way to get people excited about new programs and projects

Thank you for coming to my Tedx Talk 

[greekowl87]

Fic: Supposed Ghost Stories

I found this image to inspire this fic and I couldn’t start my day until I finished it. I also love Tim Burton’s Sleepy Hollow, don’t you? Tagging @today-in-fic and @fictober .  Set season six before ‘How the Ghosts Stole Christmas.’ Ever wonder why Mulder stole Scully’s keys in that episode?

Happy Halloween :)

Mulder shivered in the car of their rental as Scully passed him a fresh cup of hot coffee in a thin paper cup. He forgot how cold New England Halloween's could be, even beneath his jeans, long sleeve shirt, and heavy leather jacket.

"Turn up the heat, Mulder," she murmured. "It is freezing in here."

Mulder adjusted the temperatures on the heat as Scully sighed and leaned back in the seat. She closed her eyes, shivering trying to imagine herself physically fighting off the fall cold before she opened her eyes and took in the scene before her. Near to full moon that lit up the sky and stars everywhere. The abandoned dirt road which their car sat on was surrounded by eerie moonlight and fog. Essentially, it was the makings of a horror movie, Scully thought.

"Why did I agree to do this?" she questioned after a moment before turning to look at him.

"What?" he asked innocently. He attempted to bury himself in his coat. "Graveyard hunting?"

"Yes. I do not specifically recall you mentioning the exact terms. I do, however, recall you saying to the effect of 'Scully, want to do a historic tour on Massachuttes?' when you asked me to come up here."

"What? We aren't on a case. As far as I am concerned it is just two friends enjoying Halloween. Ghost hunting. In graveyards."

"Do I need to remind you we have a bad track record of casual outing in New England? You and your cockroaches three years ago and me with that doll thing last year in Maine?" she questioned. "I thought maybe, I don't know, something like 'Hocus Pocus.'"

"Salem. You wanted to go to Salem and see the museum?"

"Not necessarily. But is in a town with stuff to do and not on some side of the road in the middle nowhere." She huffed her cheeks. "So where are we exactly, since you know, we might as well make the best of it."

He smiled. This is one of the things he loved about her. She would always come with him, no matter where obscure place he would go. He gently took her hands and squeezed it affectionately. Scully closed her eyes at the contact of the instant warmth that came from him, wishing for him not to let her hand go. "Well, just for the record, I do appreciate you following me up here. I just wanted to let you know that."

She gave a snort and a small smile. "You know it is just to ensure I save your ass again."

"Always, Scully." He released her hand. "Spooky tonight, isn't it?"

She chuckled and narrowed her eyes in thought. "Is that the best pick up line that you have, Mulder?"

"I got more of them." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively. "But seriously, there used to be this old graveyard that Sam and I went to the Halloween before she was taken. It was one of those ghost tour things but I just can't seem to find it, honestly."

Scully gave a soft smile, touched. "Well, what other crazy Halloween traditions did you all have? I'll give you one of mine. When all of us were old enough to trick or treat, mom would make us do these group costumes. One year, we all were the Jetsons. Bill was George, Missy was Jane, I was June, and Charlie was Elroy." She chuckled in memory. "The wig I had to wear. Oh my god, I hated that thing. It was one of my grandmother's, I'm positive."

"Baby Scully as Judy Jetson," Mulder repeated disbelievingly.

"Mom has a picture. We can stop by at her home in Baltimore on the way back and I'll prove it."

"You have a deal," he laughed. "Sam and I never did anything like that but one time. She was three and I seven. I was Yogi Bear and she was Boo Boo. After that Halloween, I vowed to do my own costume every year. I've always loved Halloween though. That Halloween, I read her Washington's Irving "The Legend of Sleepy Hollow" and she wanted to go look for the headless horseman. So instead of going trick or treating, we went to a graveyard to look for it."

"But isn't it Sleepy Hollow technically in New York and not Massachuttes?"

"Very good," he smiled. "And yes but I wasn't going to ruin that for her. It actually is a Germanic myth that goes back to the middle ages. But Irving tale explains the Horseman was a Hessian mercenary from the Revolutionary War who had his head taken off by a cannonball."

"And did you find it?"

"No, but I scared her real good like a big brother is supposed to." His smile faded. "That was the last Halloween we spent together before she was taken."

A comfortable silence settled between them. Scully glanced at the clock on the dash. "What do you say we head back to the hotel, Mulder? It's one a.m. We can get some gas station grub and watch "The Blob" till sunrise."

"What? You don't want to see if any ghosts come a calling?" He was already turning the key on the car, restarting the idle engine back to life.

"I'm freezing, Mulder. My toes are ice cubes."

"I wanted to do something fun with you this year," he replied, "especially after last year."

The unspoken silence about the cancer.

"Well, unofficial ghost hunts may be fun, but what is, even more, fun is a warm hotel room and scary movies. Come on, Mulder."

Mulder switched the car into gear, gently easing off the gravel shoulder and back on the fog covered road. "It's a pity really. Tonight's weather makes a perfect atmosphere."

"I would rather watch a movie than experience it tonight. We're off the clock, remember?"

"Fine, fine," he conceded.

Mulder began to speed up slowly, wary of the fog and woods and the chance a stray deer barreling into their car. Scully leaned forward to switch on the radio on but frowned when all she could hear was static. "Hm. That's strange. We had a radio signal out here when we first arrived."

"Probably the weather."

As they drove cautiously along, with only the silence and the sound of the engine, hanging in between. But then the neigh of a horse that was loud, clear, and echoed otherworldly. Mulder glanced at Scully and slowed the car to a stop. "Do you think..."

"No. It is a ghost story, Mulder. That's all."

They heard the neigh again, closer and louder this time. She was the first to get out of the car, with her gun and flashlight in hand. "Scully!" he called as she slammed the car door and walked in front of the headlight purposefully.

Grabbing his own flashlight, he stood out in front of the headlights, shining his own flashlight out into the dark night. They heard a horse's neigh again. It was coming closer. Mulder's hairs were standing on end and, while it was highly likely it was nothing, he reached for his own gun. "It's probably a figment of my imagination."

"A figment that we're both hearing?"

Now they could hear galloping, the rhythmic noise of horseshoes cobbling the asphalt. "Mulder," she said cautiously. Her blue eyes darted to him. "This isn't funny. Stop joking around."

"Scully, this isn't me, I swear it."

As the galloping came closer, she raised her weapon. "Stop! I'm a federal officer!"

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "What good is that going to do?"

She flared her nostrils, smelling sulfur. What was burning? In a flash that blinded them, she saw the outline of a headless figure and a black horse. "The fuck..." Mulder began.

The headless figure swung a cavalry saber skillfully as the horse neighed loudly, standing on his hindquarters. Without thinking, Scully emptied her entire magazine into the figure which seemed unaffected by the hail of 9mm bullets from her sig.  Mulder grabbed her forearm forcefully and pushed her to the passenger side of the car. "Get in, Scully. Just get in!"

Not being needed to told twice, she rushed into the car as Mulder jumped into the driver's seat and slammed the gas. He maneuvered the car in quick j-turn as they sped the opposite way down the road. Scully kept looking behind her for the headless rider but saw nothing.

"Mulder," she breathed. "I think it's gone."

"I'm not going to stop driving until we're back at the hotel." He gritted his teeth. "I swear I had nothing to do with that. I honestly do think that was the horseman."

"Mulder that is a legend, a ghost story that is told on Halloween."

"Well, what was tonight?"

Scully arched an eyebrow. "Mulder, that is crazy. Just because it is Halloween..."

"Makes sense, Scully."

"I don't know what the hell we saw but it was not the headless horseman!"

"Suit yourself, but I'm not stopping until we get back to the hotel. Speaking of hotel, do you mind if I spend the night with you?"

"What? Ghost story scare you, Mulder," she teased. Truth be told, she was shaken up herself and thought it was a good idea. The look he gave her indicated he was completely serious. "Well, I suppose a sleepover and horror movie night might be doable."

"Well, then we better stop off and get some candy just to be safe," he said cautiously, easily navigating the heavy air still in between them.

"Yes," she agreed. After a moment, she spoke once more. "Mulder, the next time you ask me to go on a ghost hunt with you, you're going to have to steal my car keys in order to make me."

"I'll remember that, Scully," he answered, his thoughts already rolling in his head for what he could plan for her at Christmas.

[abadoodlesss]

A Hunter’s Halloween

A/N: I got Day 4 of @winchesters-favorite-girl ‘s Halloween Writing Challenge - Halloween Costumes. So glad I joined this challenge, it was a lot of fun! 

Pairing: Winchesters x Friend!Reader (she’s like a lil sis) 

Summary: A fellow hunter, (Y/n), tags along with the Winchester Brothers to hunt down a ghost haunting the house where the town’s Halloween party is held. Ready for a quick ganking of a ghost, the three set off but run into a minor problem: No costume, no entry. 

Warnings: Few swears and a very brief description of Dean getting stitches (I thought it was gross so I thought I’d warn other squeamish people)  

Word Count: 2500+

A/N Part 2: (Started off short and cute and then my brain was like: Hey what if you added character arcs and personalities and a real plot so I tried meeting myself halfway and not get too into the story but kinda I couldn’t help it.)

The Impala raced down the empty road. Dean sat in backseat beside (Y/n), a young hunter that the Winchesters met a few years back who joined the boys on their latest hunt as Sam drove them back to the motel. They were heading back now from a vampire case that they just barely managed to survive. (Y/n) was currently stitching together a deep gash on Dean’s upper arm.

The boys met (Y/n) on a hunt a few years prior, when she was only nineteen. (Y/n) and the Winchester’s were trailing the same Vampire case separately and wound up running into each other and decided to work together. They were an amazing team and now three years later, they called upon (Y/n) again for assistance. She was more than happy to oblige, meeting the boys and taking out another nest. However, this time things didn’t go as smoothly.

Dean downed some more whiskey to numb the pain of (Y/n) driving the needle in and out of his skin. Sucking in a quick breath, Dean closed his eyes and downed more whiskey.

“Oh, stop being such a baby.” (Y/n) teased.

“You try getting stitched up in the back of your car while your brother drives like a maniac.” Dean cried. Sam just grumbled from the front seat and continued to drive towards the motel.

(Y/n) pulled the thread tightly, tying in a knot and ripping away the excess. “There, good as new.” She said with a smile.

“Thanks, sweetheart.” Dean said, grateful she took the time to make the stitches as even as she could. He took another swig of his bottle only to find it was now empty. “Pull into the closest liquor store.” Dean ordered.

“We have beers at the motel.”

“I’m tired and in pain and I need something a little stronger than a beer, we’re stopping.”

And with that, Sam kept an eye out for a liquor store.

The three climbed out of Baby and waltzed into the quaint liquor store. Dean went straight for the bottles whiskey set up further in the back of the store. (Y/n)’s eye was caught by two clearly underage boys attempting to buy alcohol at the cash register.

“I.D.” The cashier asked blankly.

The boys confidently handed over his fake ID.

“It’s fake.” The cashier replied, somehow even more blankly than before.

“No, it’s not. How dare you ev-”

“Get out of here or I’ll have to call the police.” The cashier interrupted, taking away the bottles of vodka and cutting the fake I.D. with a pair of scissors, tossing the remains in a nearby trash bin.

“Sir please, I don’t think you understand. We promised this girl that we’d bring alcohol to her party.” The first pleaded desperately.

“We can’t go disappointing her.” The second one said in a sly voice, sliding across a twenty dollar bill to the cashier.

“Tragic, really.” The cashier said, taking the money anyway. “I know what you’re up to and I can tell you boys that you don’t want to be messing around Adwell Manor.” The cashier said, pocketing the money and returning his attention to the book of crossword puzzles in front of him.

That last bit of information made (Y/n) curious. Dean came back towards the store’s front with two bottles of Jack Daniel’s and (Y/n) followed him up to the cash register

“What’s so bad about Adwell Manor?” (Y/n) questioned. “Sorry, but I was eavesdropping a bit, but I noticed you sounded very serious in telling those boys not to go there. What’s so bad about it?”

“Bit of a town legend, has been ever since I was their age. Lady Diana Adwell killed her husband and three children, then she offed herself. Every Halloween kids try to break in the place, throw a party and try to come in contact with her ghost or something.” He explained, putting the bottles in a paper bag. “I’m not much of a believer myself, but those kids shouldn’t be messing around on private property.” He said, handing the bag to Dean.

The three finished up their business in the liquor store and walked back towards the Impala.

“You think checking out Adwell Manor is worth our time?” (Y/n) asked.

“We just finished a case, (y/n/n).” Dean said, slightly irritated.

“Oh c’mon old-timer, it would be such an easy case. Let me at least research how legit that story was.”

“Knock yourself out.” Dean said, throwing Baby in drive and speeding off to the motel.

“Four newspaper stories on the murders, evidence that the family in fact existed and lived in the Manor and a Facebook post by one Brooke Abbott telling everyone about the party she’s having there tonight.” (Y/n) said, turning around the laptop so the boys could get a closer look.

“Okay, so it’s legit.” Dean admitted.

“Alright let’s head over.” Sam said, grabbing his jacket.

“Little problem,” (Y/n) announced, pointing to Brooke’s post. “‘No costume, no entry’.”

“Who cares, we’ll just walk in.”

“We don’t want to look suspicious. If two grown men walk into a teenager’s party, it’ll be super noticeable.”

“(Y/n/n), we’re not buying costumes just for this, let’s go and get it over with.” Dean said, grabbing his car keys.

“(Y/n/n), do you think a Ghostbuster costume is a little too on the nose?” Dean asked.

“You’re a Ghostbuster everyday, Halloween is a chance for you to pretend to be someone else, so use it.”

“We pretend to be other people on a daily basis. Two days ago I was pretending to be an FBI agent.” Sam complained, not wanting anything to do with the cheap Halloween costumes.

“Have fun for once in your life Winchester, be creative.” (Y/n) said, turning back towards the women’s costumes. “Ugh, why do women’s costumes have to be so sexualized?” (Yn/n) cried. “I mean ‘Sexy Nurse’, ‘Sexy Nun’, ‘Sexy Cheshire Cat’!? This is ridiculous!”

“Well, you aren’t hearing any complaining from the male population.” Dean joked, calling from the next aisle over.

“At least you have options, I can’t find anything.” Sam complained.

“Oh c’mon Sam, they’re plenty of costumes.” (Y/n) said as Sam joined her. “Like this one,” She said, holding up a child’s Rapunzel costume. “You don’t even need to buy the wig, your hair’s the perfect length.”

“Ha ha, you’re hilarious.” Sam said dryly with the roll of his eyes.

“Nah, Sammy, I found the perfect one for you.” Dean said, jumping out in front of the two with a creepy clown mask on. It took all of Sam’s willpower to not shriek like a little girl in the middle of the store. Dean burst out into laughter at his brother’s reaction, (Y/n) trying to not join in and embarrass Sam.

“Shut up.” Sam said, punching Dean in the arm but Dean didn’t cease his laughter. “Well here’s the perfect one for you.” Sam said, pulling out a Sexy Doctor costume. “An homage to your little man crush, Dr. Sexy.”

(Y/n) stopped dead in her tracks. “You watch Doctor Sexy M.D?” She asked. “No, more importantly, you like Dr. Sexy?”

“Sexy is in his name, it’s not an opinion it’s a fact no one can deny!” Dean defended, ripping the costume from Sam’s hands. “And I would be honored to wear this.”  

Adjusting her black and white striped tights, (Y/n) followed the Winchesters up the steps to Adwell Manor. Sam had opted to dress as a ‘Swashbuckling Pirate Captain’ as it was the only costume that was big enough to fit him. Dean proudly strutted to the front door in his Dr. Sexy costume. (Y/n) decided on the least scandalous costume she could find in the women’s section: a witch, much to Dean’s dismay.

“Let’s make this quick, get in, gank old Lady Adwell and get out.” Sam said, scratching at the uncomfortable material his pirate pants were made of.

“Oh stop being such a party pooper.” Dean said, walking in the doors.

The doors opened up to a foyer, covered in cobwebs, a few fake spiders, a few real spiders and carved pumpkins lined the grand staircase, the candles being the only source of light. Music came from further in the house, which the three followed, leading them into the party.

Teenagers dressed in half-assed costumes crowded the room, everyone, with a solo cup in their hands as they swayed to the music playing over the speakers.

A young blonde girl dressed as a cat, if you could call a tight black dress and a cat ear headband a cat costume. She looked (Y/n) up and down, letting out a little scoff.

“Um, do I know you?” She questioned like she had some sort of authority over Adwell Manor. (Y/n) was about to come up with an excuse, anything that wouldn’t get their cover blown but the girl turned her attention to the men standing behind (Y/n).

The girl glanced at Sam and Dean, looking much less aggravated by their existence than she was by (Y/n)’s.

“Oh, I’m sure I don’t know you. I’d remember a face like that.” The girl said, twirling a blonde lock around her finger, biting her lip as she looked at Dean.

Dean widened his eyes, looking to his brother for assistance, Sam had none to offer.

He let out an awkward laugh. “Yeah, we’re not from around here. I’m Dean.”

“Brooke.” The girl said, introducing herself as she continued her intense eye contact with Dean. “Why don’t you and I go grab some punch and get to know each other a little better.” She asked, a bit suggestively, tugging Dean away.

Dean sent a desperate silent plea to (Y/n) and Sam, begging with his eyes for them to rescue him.

“Take one for the team.” Sam mouthed as Dean was dragged through the dance floor by Brooke.

With Dean reluctantly distracting the hostess, Sam and (Y/n) snuck away from the party. At first, they found no sign of Diana Adwell. Sam was very quick to give up, most likely due to the fact he was finished with being dressed as a pirate.

The two walked into a study, walls lined with shelves filled with books and a fireplace, void of any wood. Around the fireplace was a mantle, adorned with pictures and trinkets and a few silver boxes. The picture depicted a rather happy looking family, a mother, a father and three young children all dressed in Victorian-era clothing. (Y/n) grabbed the photo, inspecting it further as Sam reached for one of the small silver boxes.

“They were all cremated.” Sam said, reading the fancy cursive on the boxes of ashes.

Suddenly the fire roared, illuminating the room as (Y/n)’s EMF reader began beeping.

The apparition of Diana Adwell formed before the two, dressed in a white nightgown stained with blood, especially around the gash in her chest. She had a kitchen knife in her hand and, raised and ready to attack. Sam jumped in front of (Y/n), protective big brother mode activated.

The ghost flung Sam across the room, causing him to crash into one of the bookcases. (Y/n) used the moment that the ghost focused on Sam to grab an iron fire poker and drive it through Lady Adwell’s form.

(Y/n) bolted over to Sam, helping him to his feet. “Get up sasquatch, she won’t be gone for long.”

“She was cremated, what’s left of her?” Sam asked with a groan as he stood upright.

Grabbing the picture frame once more, (Y/n) scanned the image. Diana Adwell’s hand clutched a locket was hanging around her neck in the photograph.

“Her locket?” (Y/n) theorized.

“It’s our best bet.”  Sam agreed. The two dashed to the master bedroom, the room where (Y/n) remembered seeing a jewelry box upon a dresser.

Sam dug around the jewelry box, (Y/n) joking that he was stereotyping all other pirates by stealing valuables. (Y/n) stood with the fire poker in hand, ready to strike the moment Lady Adwell reared her ghostly head again.

Suddenly she appeared, behind Sam. (Y/n) cried out for him as she swung at the apparition.

“I got it!” Sam yelled, clutching the locket in hand, ducking out of the room to burn it in the study’s fireplace. (Y/n) ran close behind, watching out for Lady Adwell once more, no doubt even more pissed off than before.

“Wouldn’t you rather stay downstairs?” They heard Dean say from further down the hallway. He came into view, following Brooke as she stormed the hallway, trying to persuade her to turn back.

“There they are!” She exclaimed, noticing Sam and (Y/n) barreling down the hall. “What are you doing?” She asked, barricading the rest of the hallway with her body, hands on hips.

“We don’t have time to explain.” (Y/n) said, pushing past Brooke.

“Excuse me but-” Brooke started but she was cut off by a chilling scream. Lady Adwell’s ghost was barreling down the hallway towards the group.

“C’mon.” Sam yelled, taking off towards the study, Dean in tow. (Y/n) grabbed onto a petrified Brooke, tugging her along.

Once in the study, (Y/n) threw Dean another iron fire poker as he forced Brooke to stand behind himself and (Y/n) as they awaited the ghost.

Sam dug into the satchel that came along with his costume, reaching for his lighter and tossing it into the fireplace. It erupted in flames just as the ghost caught up with them.

She made a motion with her arms at the fire pokers were ripped away from Dean and (Y/n)’s grasp. Brooke continued screaming as Sam tossed the locket into the fire, Diana Adwell burst into flames at the same moment.

“What the hell just happened.” Brooke cried.

“Long story, just- just go back to your party.” Dean said, too exhausted to even try explaining.

“But-” Brooke started.

“Go.” Sam said, equally tired and even less willing to go through the whole explanation.

Brooke started to leave when she turned back to Dean. “Call me sometime?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Finally!” Sam exclaimed, ripping off the blasted pirate costume he was confined to all night.

“You are so overdramatic.” (Y/n) said, taking off her witch hat.

“Don’t even start with me, (Y/n/n).” He said, promptly tossing his costume into the trash can in the bathroom.

“I thought it was kind of fun.” Dean mused, checking himself out in the bathroom’s mirror. “I mean we’re always dressing up, but we never get candy out of it.” Dean said, dumping out loads of candy from the deep pockets of his doctor costume onto the motel bed.

(Y/n) attacked the pile of candy, picking out all the best treats for herself. Sam reached down to grab a Snickers from the pile when his hand was smacked away.

“I don’t think so Mister I-hate-Halloween, no costume no candy.”  

“Why do you love Halloween so much? Everyday is Halloween for us, it’s just not special.”

(Y/n) was taken aback for a second, Halloween might not have been the most fun time for hunters, but it was special.

“Look, I get why you don’t like it. When I was younger, we didn’t celebrate Halloween either because there was nothing to celebrate, it’s just another night of hell for us.”

“Exactly my point.”

“But, we were wrong back then. There is something to celebrate. True, we don’t get to take part in all the fun and we can’t be oblivious to the dark shit that goes on like everyone else but we should be celebrating Halloween because it means we’re doing our jobs right. People feel safe enough to mock monsters and go out on the most dangerous night of the year. They feel safe because we’re doing a damn good job of protecting them. Isn’t that worth celebrating?”

“Well, when you put in such a dramatic way, yes.”

“I’m just saying, our Halloween might not be like everyone else’s but that doesn’t mean it’s not just as good.”

Dean grabbed three beers from the case beside the door, handing one out to (Y/n) and Sam. “To a job well done.”

“To a hunter’s Halloween.” (Y/n) said clink her bottle with Dean’s.

The two looked at Sam expectantly.

“To Halloween not sucking so bad.” Sam said, defeated, clinking his bottle too.

[emissaryofcosplay]

I started this write-up on Instagram, before realizing it was way too long, so I’m posting it here! If you came from my Insta, welcome, make yourself at home :)

So while I was going through my sketchbook, I found my initial sketch for my Anora costume, and I thought it would be fun (and hopefully insightful) to write down my whole process, from deciding to cosplay as Anora to the finished product. And so, that’s what I’m doing!

As much as I love Dragon Age, the dresses in Origins kind of don't look great, including Anora’s. The collar is unflattering, and the skirt just falls straight down, in a way that would make it difficult to walk in. And as you've probably noticed, I love big dresses. So I decided to make it my own!

First step, inspiration. While looking for other artists' interpretation, I saw a post comparing Fereldan fashion to traditional Georgian clothing (Eastern Europe Georgia, not US Georgia ;) ). I was sold!

So I gathered references and got to sketching. To me, the most recognizable parts of Anora's design were her hair of course, her color palette, her wide golden belt, and the blue overlay to her skirt. I mixed this with my favorite parts from the traditional clothing: the double neckline, the skirt shape, and the crown sometimes worn by Georgian brides.

Fabric was the next step. To get the gold shine of the belt, I got some golden stretch velvet. I ended up very much regretting getting stretch velvet instead of regular velvet, as stretch velvet was a pain in the ass to work with, especially without a teflon foot. Also, it’s very, very warm. The blue fabric was initially made for curtains, and 280cm wide, so I only needed a meter. I thought the brocade pattern was just subtle enough to be the right color overall while still being visible on camera. I got crepe georgette for the sleeves, it was also hard to work with because of the warping, but it turned out looking great, and made the dress less awfully hot to wear. And for the skirt, I chose a deep red silk crepe, and used the duller side as the visible side, as I thought the shiny side was too shiny. I also bought gold piping, two frog closures, and a lot of gold thread to make decorative seams on the belt.

Then, patterns. I drafted the skirt on the fly, since it's a very simple 4-trapeze shape. The sleeves, I copied the top from a shirt I had, and did some basic geometry to have the correct volume around the wrist. The wristband is just a rectangle. The belt, I eyeballed the shape, made it out of cheap canvas, and adjusted it as I went until I liked it.

The real challenge here was the top. That neckline I really loved didn’t really exist as a commercial pattern. After a lot of digging, I found this pattern from Lekala that could work, with a lot of modifications. More on that later.

When it came to closures, I didn’t really know how to do it at first. Obviously, the top would close in the front; but the belt couldn’t have a front closure since it would split the decorations down the middle, and the skirt overlay couldn’t close in the front either. So what I ended up doing was to make the “dress” with a front closure, and to have the overlay sewn onto the belt, so they both close on the side. The overlay also hides the bottom of the zipper I put in the front of the dress, from the top of the belt to about butt level, so I can actually put it on.

So, the neckline. From the pattern I linked, I took the upper back and the two front pieces. You can see the front is in two pieces, but I didn’t want that, so I fused the two pieces together. Then, I made the top out of cheap canvas again, and tweaked a lot of things, both for fit and aesthetics. I had to modify it pretty heavily to get it right! Once I was happy with the shape, I made it again out of my blue fabric, using my mock-up as a pattern. Then, I lined it, with gold piping along the neckline seams. I added a waistband, then sewed the skirt to that waistband, and put in the zipper. At that point, I had my whole bra out. I cut out two semi-circles out of velvet, lined them with satin and piping in the seams again, and I attached each to the blue lining on either side, so that it would look like my reference. Then, I added a modesty panel and the frog closures.

The belt is velvet on both sides. I made it using the pattern I’d made earlier, which was annoying to do because the velvet would slip and stretch and stick to itself or my machine foot. I put some hooks and eyes for the closure. To do all the decorative stitching, I applied water-soluble stabilizer that I glued to the fabric with water-soluble temporary fabric glue. This helped my machine foot slide along the fabric, rather than stick to the pile of the velvet and create warping.

For the skirt overlay, I just draped the remaining blue fabric over the skirt, cut it to a shape I liked, hemmed it, sewed gold trim over the hem, and hand-sewed it to the belt.

The petticoat, I bought on Aliexpress or ebay for cheap, and it looked like this. I didn’t really like the shape, it was too much of a bell, so I seam ripped the top layer, folded it in half horizontally, and sewed the now double, shorter layer closer to the bottom of the petticoat. Since the cheap tulle created a lot of angles under the skirt, I also added a top layer made from a mesh curtain that was just a rectangle gathered at the top and sewn onto the yoke of the petticoat. Then, I hemmed that petticoat layer and the skirt.

And that was it! The crown was black worbla that I painted gold and glued a plastic gem to, and the wig was made using a Skylar from Arda, two buns and two braids, and some hot glue. This got very long, but hopefully you found it interesting!

[myaekingheart]

So I was watching youtube videos of former Disney cast members' embarrassing or horrifying work stories and it got me thinking about my own embarrassing or horrifying experiences not as a Disney cast member but as a Disney cosplayer because let me tell you, the weird interactions are not confined solely to the official friends of Disney characters. I've got a couple doozies myself that I now feel like sharing so I'm gonna put them all under the cut in case you wanna read them or in case you don't and don't want a potentially long post clogging up your dash.

Mmkay so the first horrible experience I had cosplaying was not exactly with a character interaction but just with the environment and my own experiences. I was at Tampa Bay Comic Con 2014 as Violet from The Incredibles and I was having a great time, it was a cool con even though I had to travel kind of far for it. I got a picture with this really cool Bucky/Winter Soldier cosplayer and he had an adorable little daughter dressed as Batgirl who hopped into one of the other pictures who seemed really delighted to see Violet and everything. Things seemed to be going pretty well until my morale plummetted significantly. I hadn't really eaten much that day and my heels were killing me and I just overall felt really sick and sweaty. Needless to say, things kept getting worse up until the point where I nearly threw up in a trash can and had to basically stumble to the bathroom to nearly vomit and change out of my costume. I never did actually throw up but I certainly felt like I was going to and it was awful. My best friend, who was with me, and I ended up sitting outside together waiting for my parents to come pick us up (which took, like, an hour) and I went through nearly an entire pack of Tic Tacs trying to calm my stomach down. Probably the worst convention experience I've ever faced, truthfully.

These other two stories are interaction-based and the second is far worse than the first. This first one was fairly recent, this past September, where I attended a con (again, with my best friend) as my all-time fave, Rapunzel from Tangled. The catalyst in this story is, ironically, the hair. The wig I was wearing I was at the time was my pride and joy, my 13ft long loose Rapunzel wig. This wig was a main goal of mine in my cosplay endeavors for ages so I was super pumped to have finally created it and worn it to a convention (even if it did get INCREDIBLY messy). So anyways, my best friend and I were walking around the convention, taking some pictures outside, you know, just having fun, and as we're outside in the courtyard of the hotel the convention was being held in, this family with three adorable small children comes over and asks if their kids can get a picture with Rapunzel. Of course I said yes and I jumped right into character to interact with them for a bit and get the pictures and stuff. The one little girl, who was most excited to see me, ran over and hugged me and she was just so super happy and it made me happy to see her so happy. However, this is also where the story turns. I had my hair in a small pile right beside myself and as the interaction was ending, I asked the two little girls if I could get a big princess hug before they left because that's what I do when I'm a princess. I turn on the charm and go full Magic Kingdom. Well, the little girl who was most excited leans over to give me a hug but then as she goes to walk away back to her family, she trips on the hair and faceplants into the ground. If it hadn't been for her hands, she would've got a mouth full of concrete and a bloody nose. I panicked and reached out to help her up but she got back onto her feet on her own...only to trip on the hair AGAIN. I paste a smile on my face and lean over to try and help her up again but inside I'm secretly DYING like oh my god how can I possibly live with myself knowing this little girl has now nearly hurt herself just from hugging her favorite princess??? How is she going to feel watching Tangled or meeting Rapunzel in the parks now after this??? Aaaahhhhhhh x_x She ended up being okay and the family wasn't angry or anything, thank god, but I still felt terrible. My best friend got the entire thing on video, too, so I can relive it whenever I want haha The interaction itself wasn't horrible, though, and I like seeing video clips of me interacting in character with small children so I can figure out what I like and what I don't like from a subjective point of view, the tripping part is just what gets me every time because I just felt SO BAD.

This last one is probably the worst just because it is, what I consider, the creepiest and most out of line out of every cosplay experience I've had. So, because I cosplay a lot of Disney characters, I consider it the closest I can get to being an actual Disney cast member and official friend of the characters and therefore I like to uphold Disney's policy of character integrity. I will never tell a child at a convention that I am not the real Rapunzel or the real Ariel or the real Belle or Alice or what-have-you unless they know I'm not really them and I know they know because if a small child sees her favorite princess at a convention and runs up to her for a hug and a picture, you've gotta make that moment the most magical it can possibly be because for all you know, this kid might not get to go to Disney a lot to meet the real Rapunzel or Ariel or Belle or Alice. I tend to be way more lax with this with the adults because, let's face it, if an adult is at a convention nonetheless cosplaying, they know the deal and it's not a problem. However, that doesn't mean I'm standing around giving out personal information like my real name or something to these people. I'll hand out my cosplay pseudonym, of course, so people can find me on facebook if they like my stuff or whatever but I will never be so stupid as to give strangers my real name when I'm in costume. It's just a personal policy of mine that I refuse to abolish. That's where the story comes in. I was at another convention as Violet and things were going really well, my dad was with me this time which is always fun because we both like to nerd out together but at the same time, he is my personal designated body guard and that is always a necessity when I'm Violet. More than anyone else (except maybe Ariel-- I've never actually attended a con as her before so we'll see what happens when that ship sails), Violet is always the one character who gets a lot of questionable stares or murmured comments as if you don't think I know about that dark portion of the internet that houses all The Incredibles porn. Believe me, I've seen your comics of Violet sucking her dad's dick. No, I don't enjoy the incest. Enjoy what you want in your own spare time but don't think I'm going to indulge in your fantasies like that. Because Violet is such an underdog sex figure in some communities, though, cosplaying her can get a little nerve-wracking because you never know whose going to be checking out your ass in that spandex or trying to score with you. My guard is always up tenfold when I'm Violet like invisible forcefields everywhere, people. But anyways, I was at a convention as Violet one time and I mean, things were going well so far, I was getting pictures with a lot of really cool cosplayers and we were complimenting each other's costumes and everything and it was overall jsut this really positive environment at first. Then this one guy came over to get a picture with me and I was a little wary at first because he seemed a little...off. I wasn't sure if he was just a little mentally disabled or if something else was going on but this made my dad very on edge. But anyways, so we get the picture, it's all fine and well, but then this kid starts trying to drum up a conversation with me and insistently asking for my name-- my real name. As stated above, I have a very strict character integrity policy when it comes to cosplaying so this was kind of a test of my moral strength. Even though this guy was an adult or at least a teenager, I still didn't feel comfortable answering this question so I tried to throw him off with in-character excuses like "I can't really say. My identity is my most valuable possession, after all" and stuff like that but THIS KID WOULD NOT GIVE UP. He was like hardcore desperate for a name so I finally just sighed and was like "Okay, fine, it's Violet" and then kind of just hustled away with my dad who then went on to talk to me after the con about how he didn't like that interaction and something about being on guard and safety and stuff like that, which are all things I already know but I was still grateful he was lecturing me about them and even more, that he was there and prepared to jump the guy if he tried something. I still kind of shudder when I think about it, though. I mean, obviously the situation could've been way worse but at the same time, it was a stressful experience that I really didn't enjoy having to go through. Listen, if you're at a convention and you see a cool cosplayer, respect some boundaries. Get a picture with them if you like but don't ask them for their real name because chances are they might not be comfortable giving that out. Instead, compliment their work and ask them if they have a cosplay page you can follow or something instead. That way, if they have a cosplay pseudonym they'd prefer to be known by in the cosplay community, they can give you that instead rather than you hounding them for their real name and trying to score. That's not okay and we don't like it regardless of how much spandex we do or do not have on our body. So to anyone reading this, let this be a lesson to you.

[demitgibbs]

Screen Queens

Mamma Mia! Here We Go Again

You don’t need to see Mamma Mia! Here We Go Again more than once. That’s still one more time than you needed to see the original Mamma Mia! when Meryl Streep bopped and pranced around the streets of Greece’s dreamy Kalokairi island. One very famous woman’s infectious buoyancy, however, couldn’t entirely save the jukebox musical’s no-fun drudgery, nor could she cleanse Pierce Brosnan’s croak of a “voice.” For good reason, then, Streep bowed out of Here We Go Again – almost, anyway (her single scene is literally otherworldly and more tearfully tender than it ought to be; also, I’m a crybaby). But no matter: Your mom’s favorite movie of 2018 is a brand of stupid-fun I support, probably best viewed after eating an edible. It tells the story of Streep’s Donna without Streep (played in her youth circa the 1970s, through flashbacks, by a very alive Lily James), as she journeys to matriarchal womanhood with the man triad who swept her off her feet, naturally set to deeper-catalog ABBA bops/ballads not in its predecessor. Like an amusement park ride you promised yourself you’d never go on again but then you just couldn’t help yourself, Here We Go Again is just that, with the gratuitous and appropriately dramatic and well-lit addition of a mini Cher concert. Mamma Mia! Here We Go Again, after all, isn’t really a movie anyway; it’s a gay reason for gay sons and their gay-adoring moms to bond together and want to plan a trip to Greece together and emphatically say “OMG, don’t you just love Christine Baranski?!” together. So just surrender to its dumb charms and then gaily skip to the special features to see Meryl do a drag-worthy vocal impression of Cher.

A Simple Favor

Blake Lively and Anna Kendrick making out in A Simple Favor was the lesbian kiss 2018 needed, so thanks a million for that, Paul Feig. The comedy writer-director who we love because he loves putting women first in his films (particularly his muse Melissa McCarthy, in both Spy and Bridesmaids) has his finger on the pulse of so many gay things in his latest flick, merging dark, twisted comedy with his signature farce. Beyond the Lively-Kendrick hookup that rocked our world, Feig somehow knew exactly what was missing from queer cinema: a frothy Hitchcockian crime soap opera about a bisexual mom (Lively) and a straight mom (Kendrick) that also features a Mr. Mom (Andrew Rannells, gay). Kendrick’s cat-sock-wearing Stephanie meets the sophisticated, wouldn’t-be-caught-in-cat-socks Emily, deliciously played by Lively, at their kids’ school. They are night and day, and their mom differences (Stephanie would never hang a giant painting of her bushy vag in her home!) makes for some genius comedic awkwardness. But things get weird and twisty and gayer when Stephanie disappears after asking Emily to pick up her son from school. Emily goes into Nancy Drew search mode: “We are soldiering on with cookies and origami,” she bravely shares with the moms who watch her dorky domestic vlog. Come for the kiss and Blake Lively in men’s suits; stay for the bonkers shift into “Murder, She Vlogged.”

Shampoo

Before we knew straight men could look as good as gay men and not even identify as gay, there was Warren Beatty as George, whose sexuality was the subject of speculation in 1975’s raunchy sex dramedy Shampoo. During a business meeting, George explains to aging private investor Lester (Jack Warden) that beauty school led him to his profession as a hairdresser, leaving Lester looking as stumped as any old white guy who can’t conceive of breaking gender norms. Little does Lester know that George’s bedhead poof of a Mick Jagger mane is the result of the lady carousel he’s riding hard. One of those women is Jackie (Julie Christie), Lester’s mistress. Lester is blind to their affair: “You think George is a fairy?” he asks Jackie. (Later, when the two are caught in an intimate hair-styling moment, George feigns gay.) Then there’s Goldie Hawn and Lee Grant, as Jill and Felicia, respectively; George keeps both women around for different reasons, though role-wise Hawn got the feebler of the female parts while Grant got an Oscar. Set against the 1968 presidential election, Shampoo is a sign of the times with regard to evolving homosexuality and big-picture politics, marked by an intimate love story that’s messy, bittersweet and holds up timelessly in 2019. During one of many supplemental features on Criterion Collection’s new restoration, critics Mark Harris and Frank Rich discuss Carrie Fisher’s use of the word “faggity” and the film’s striking gay implications.

Also Out

Halloween

The new Halloween is not great. If you’ve never seen a horror movie before or lived through America in 2018, there are some scares, and one particularly effective and artfully shot sequence is thrilling: a long, strolling shot of the franchise’s masked terror, Michael Myers, on Halloween night amid trick-or-treaters going about his usual knife-bludgeoning business. It’s the perfect throwback to John Carpenter’s 1978 classic, his legendary score still bone-chilling 40 years on. The big sell here is Jamie Lee Curtis returning as Grandma Laurie Strode, even though she fell to her death in 2002’s Resurrection, a movie that doesn’t matter (and never mattered; it’s bad) because director David Gordon Green’s Trump-era Halloween asks you to forget that Curtis was even in a movie with Busta Rhymes and Tyra Banks. This contemporary pseudo-feminist take featuring generations of women standing up to an evil man (sound familiar?) serves as a direct sequel – and, occasionally, slick homage – to Carpenter’s classic. Curtis’ Laurie is one-note frayed and fierce, but at least watching her kick major ass is more inspirational than anything the other Grandma Lauries watch on the Hallmark Channel.

Philadelphia

For just under five minutes, Tom Hanks, Denzel Washington and Mary Steenburgen, along with openly gay screenwriter Ron Nyswaner, reflect on the intent and legacy of their landmark AIDS-centric drama Philadelphia. These new interviews featured on the 25th Anniversary 4K Ultra HD and Blu-ray Edition of the 1993 film, renowned for giving a human face to AIDS and gay discrimination, are slight. Perhaps that’s because viewing this historical snapshot all these years later – post same-sex marriage, post PrEP – does most of the speaking on its own. It speaks to a time. It speaks to a community. It speaks to those outside of the community: “I don’t think Philadelphia was made for gay people,” Hanks says. “It was made for straight people who didn’t understand how you could be gay or why you were gay.”

Some Like It Hot

American cinema will tell you that if you’re a man in peril – running from criminals? looking for a way to see your kids after losing custody of them? – slipping into a dress, plopping on a wig and powdering your face can free you from your troubles. Beloved crime-comedy caper Some Like It Hot, to which Mrs. Doubtfire and those White Chicks owe their thanks, would become the definitive landmark crossdressing farce, and the 1959 film is preserved as beautifully as Jack Lemmon and Tony Curtis (and, of course, Marilyn Monroe) in lace and lipstick with this new 4K digital restoration Blu-ray from Criterion. Special features are plentiful: a 1988 talk between Curtis and critic Leonard Maltin, a new costume-centric featurette, and a wonderful essay written by author Sam Wasson.

from Hotspots! Magazine https://hotspotsmagazine.com/2019/02/21/screen-queens/ from Hot Spots Magazine https://hotspotsmagazine.tumblr.com/post/182960416805