#sincerely someone who watches it solely for my favorite driver

[chaosinstigator]

any f1 fan who takes dts and it’s fabricated dramatics seriously instead of seeing it for the clickbaity view-hungry money grab that it is needs to re-evaluate why they’re a fan to begin with imo

[jalebi-weds-bluetooth]

Celebrity Crush

@shaonharryandpannisim​ and for anyone who wants to listen :)

TL DR; Of course it’s normal to have celebrity crushes and more than often it’s exactly what you said - admiration + healthy dose of ‘I will watch this project ‘cause they’re in it.’ BUT the other side is so toxic that it has permanently turned me off from having celeb crushes in general. 

Crush /krəSH/

noun

(informal) a brief but intense infatuation for someone, especially someone unattainable or inappropriate.

Warning: The following is completely my opinion and please continue having your healthy crushes. It’s mostly why I don’t crush. Thanks to coming for my biased TED talk in advance.

I will be chiefly discussing Barun Sobti and Adam Driver. 

First Contact w/ Unhealthy Fandom

The first time I saw a man and went WOW that’s one really good looking person was Barun Sobti as Arnav Singh Raizada - ok he did look like a little baby for the first few episodes but then he does this backward glance while walking away from his love interest and I felt the intensity of the gaze. And of course, that’s the goal of the whole scene. 

So I jumped into the fandom, truly ready to discuss about how amazing he is BUT BUT BUT there were some very weird people out there. Like complete creeps to be honest. 

- The people who thought that Barun Sobti should have a ‘better’ wife. Like she isn’t “enough” or some shit like that. 

- People who think that he and Sanaya (his co star of IPKKND) are married / should be married / are having an affair - crap like that. Like people who can’t differentiate between Arnav Singh Raizada and Barun Sobti. 

- People who think that because they see him on their screens all day, they typically own aspects of his life and are offended by his choice of privacy. So they can pass opinions, think they are a better match for him or that he should be working on all projects solely with Sanaya? (I wanna see them back but please - not this way!)

Maybe I was searching the wrong places all the time but it’s so difficult to communicate wholesome admiration. I, never ever, want to hug/kiss/physically get close or even meet him ‘cause I’m a weird person (lol) and genuinely I’d always like to meet Sobti in the capacity of a friend / respectful fan than anything else. 

So I thought this was an issue that only was there with Sobti *cue lol hah*, no it just gets amplified with the bigger someone’s star status is. 

Fans Who Can Be Batshit Crazy

*enters* Adam Driver. 

Okay, I can wax out fifteen hundred poetries for this man because I am in love with his talent, dedication, skill and yes he does look amazing. In a lot of places he’s called the ‘sex symbol’ of the millennium and I would agree!

He’s a bloody good actor - I’d spend any amount of money to watch him. But like apart from worshipping his talent and being in awe of his physicality and thinking that the Lord took his time to make this man - yup, ends right about there. Do I imagine to be his wife or even have him physically close to me *ew no*? No. 

People who comment on the actor’s partner, their children, etc. I once found a weird comment where a person asked how would their child find their father/mother intensely attractive and having a great chemistry with someone else? 

Oh God... let’s not even begin there! For a child the parent is always the parent - ideally a lovable, protective, figure. Even if the parent is Hercules! 

Also Adam played a character who was sexually very, very active and there’s a bunch of people who CANNOT differentiate between him and his character.  

Again, some people who think they own him or can pass judgements on his personal life just because they see him in their screens all the time. 

The Good Fans

I won’t go into majority or minority because of course I don’t have any statistics! But then here’s a section of amazing and fantastic fans who have an infatuation and are very aware of everything and in fact laugh it off and don’t assume a sort of right over their choice of actor! 

So it is a bunch of people who are like “yum Driver is delicious!” or like “eyes, eyes Sobti’s eyes!” and THESE ARE THE SAME PEOPLE who would battle anyone who said that they should get different wives or shit like that. 

They truly love the person. For their talent, personality, personal lives and with a healthy dose of naughtiness. John Oliver’s segment on Adam Driver always cracks me up because, at the end of the day, it’s a joke :) 

These are the people who write excellent smut, and are very aware of the difference between the actor and character he plays, and are VERY RESPECTFUL in nature.

This bunch of fans wish they were married (in a completely hilarious, joking, way) to the actor, or had an intense eye staring (again, humor and silliness is the ultimate result), or at least danced/romanced their favorite actor.

Mainly, they love the actor, their characters, their families, their choice to be private and everything else! 

The Respectful Fans

They are not infatuated with the actor, but deeply respect the actor and are ready to defend the actor against the world. I fall here, I don’t feel romantically inclined to do anything with the actor but I do love them, with all my heart and soul. 

And maybe I would want someone to be the way the actor’s CHARACTERS behave. Or maybe have the actor’s qualities (presumed) of loyalty, kindness, etc? 

“Thirst Tweets”

I have a love-hate relationship with this because you don’t know if it’s a person who is a Good Fan with some excellent smutty thoughts or it’s a Weird Fan. Also it puts a lot of us into the assumption that the actor wants to hear it? 

And if it’s around promotions time then a lot of actors perform as their characters than themselves you know? 

Some actors absolutely revel in it and know how to deflect the dirtiest of tweets with their comments - they’re absolutely in sync with the thoughts *Henry Cavill’s reaction is the best, even Tom Ellis* 

And some actors, dear Lord, they are so embarrassed that they don’t know how to react, call out what’s weird but appreciate the sweet ones *Shawn Mendes*. 

If You Love the Actor, Love their Private Lives

One final note in all of this, if we love the actor we must love his/her/their choice of privacy :) Actors like Sobti, Driver are intensely private so that should be taken into consideration :) I find it weird when some criticize that. It’s their life, we love them, we should love the entirety of them! 

What do People Think About Crushes?

Sorry @shaonharryandpannisim​, I’m finally coming to your question - I don’t know. But because of my little, weird travels through the several kind of fans - I just feel the need to explain people what I have when I say I ‘crush’ on someone. 

That I genuinely love the actor, love their characters, can spend a few moments thinking that their the perfect creation of the Lord, if they played a character who’s single then would totally put my dibs on the character in the alternate universe BUT I HAVE NO REAL INTENTIONS FOR THE REAL PERSON. Please no.

Also, if they ended up being shitty people then I don’t care how handsome / talented the person is. They’re immediately out of my admiration list. 

But I don’t think you have to worry because we all know what a sweet crush means for you and for most sensible people <3 Even actors have crushes - Ranbir Kapoor for Madhuri Dixit, etc. 

Takeaway

If you’re sensible - CRUSH AWAY. Stay away from weird people. And generally people know what a genuine, sincere crush is so don’t worry (I might have just studied toxic celebrity culture in university too). 

Some people who I know on Tumblr who really know how to show appreciation: @m0hinii​ / @tellywoodtrash​, @ferociouspompom​ / @phati-sari​, @zaphbeeblebrox​, @arnavsinghraizada​ / @da-vinci-of-our-time-blog​ to name a few. 

Thank you,

Tata,

S / Jalebi.

[moviemagistrate]

ONCE UPON A TIME…IN HOLLYWOOD review

ONCE UPON A TIME…IN HOLLYWOOD is my favorite movie of the 2010’s. 

I’ll give you a minute to put your recently-blown mind back together.

So why do I love this movie so much? The overall response to Quentin Tarantino’s supposedly penultimate opus has been very positive if not rapturous, but I’ve seen some surprisingly lukewarm and even negative reviews, with people criticizing it for being slow, meandering, lacking in depth or *shudder* boring. Obviously the quality of any movie is subjective, as I’m quick to remind anyone who hates Michael Bay movies, but I honestly don’t understand people who dislike OUATIH. Maybe it’s a matter of expectations, because I didn’t know how to feel about the film for much of the first time I watched it either.

The year is 1969, a time of great political and cultural change in the country and in the entertainment industry. The star-driven films of yesteryear are giving way to grittier, artsier, more auteur-driven works as we primarily follow Rick Dalton (Leonardo DiCaprio), former star of a popular cowboy show whose failed attempt to start an A-list movie career has left him relying on guest spots as TV villains-of-the-week to stay afloat. This is wonderfully laid out in the opening scene where he meets casting director Marvin Schwarz (Al Pacino, easily his best role since JACK & JILL), who lays out Rick’s lowering hierarchical status (“Who’s gonna kick the shit out of you next week? How about Batman & Robin? PING. POW”), while offering him an opportunity to be a leading-man again in Italian pictures.

Tagging along is Rick’s best, and maybe only, friend Cliff Booth (Brad Pitt), Rick’s go-with-the-flow stunt-double who in the slowdown of Rick’s career has effectively become his driver and gofer, as well as Rick’s sole source of emotional support. Rick is also neighbors with Sharon Tate (Margot Robbie), the beautiful young actress and wife of then-superstar director Roman Polanski (whose inclusion in the film is minimal and handled tastefully), as she lives out her idyllic life, beloved by those around her like the ray of sunshine she was in real life. Her gated, hillside home looms over Rick’s, as he ponders aloud about how even meeting her the right way could resurrect his career.

For almost two-and-a-half hours, we follow these three characters as they just live out their lives, Rick nursing hangovers and having emotional breakdowns in front of his 8-year-old co-star on set while contemplating his future, Cliff going where the wind blows him while taking care of his adorable and highly-trained dog, and Sharon as she drives around Old Hollywood, spends time with her friends, and sneaks into a matinee showing of one of her movies, her eyes and infectious smile beaming with pride when the audience laughs at her comedic timing and cheers her martial-arts prowess.

I think it’s safe to say it’s not the film any of us were expecting from Quentin Tarantino. Having only made loud, gory, over-the-top genre pastiches for the last 15 years, you’d expect from the trailers for this to be about an actor and his sexy stunt-double getting mixed up with the Manson family before teaming up with Bruce Lee to save Sharon Tate from her horrific real-life fate, mixed with the filmmaker’s usual self-indulgent homages to films of yesteryear. While some of this is true to some extent, it’s surprisingly a much more relaxed, easygoing dramedy that follows a trio of funny, charismatic people as they just…exist, as people living in the moment instead of relics.

OUATIH is much more concerned with atmosphere, character, and capturing the feeling of a bygone era than the traditional narrative structure. It’s more effective than pretty much every nostalgia trip movie I've ever seen because you can feel Tarantino's affection for this era of his childhood bleed through every character, car, song, radio advertisement, TV show, background poster, etc. It’s through this meticulous level of detail and willingness to just hang out with these characters and take in this world that he reconstructed, Tarantino successfully resurrects the era in all its 35mm glory, but with the knowing twinge of real-world melancholy.

I guess the reason I love it so much is because the love that Tarantino has for everything and everyone in it is so tangible that it’s infectious. Watching OUATIH I honestly felt like I understood him better as both a filmmaker and as a person. He shows a level of restraint and maturity I haven’t seen since JACKIE BROWN. Even most of his trademark foot fetishizing is tasteful and subdued (I say “most” because I recall at least three close-ups of actresses’ feet that definitely made him a bit sweaty behind the camera). He’s a weird, shameless nerd with a big ego, but he’s 100% sincere about expressing his love for film and its rich history. And it’s this love, and the skill and style with which it’s expressed, that just put a big smile on my face each of the 6 (SIX) times that I’ve seen it since it came out. 

Tarantino offers a tantalizing contrast between reality and fantasy. Throughout the film, as the characters of Hollywood live in their own idyllic world, relaxing in pools or driving around in bitchin’ cars, we also see the disquieting eeriness and griminess of the Manson family. The soundtrack and accompanying old-timey commercials for tanning butter or Mug Root Beer that plays through a lot of the film is a joy to listen to, but we also hear news bulletins of the war in Vietnam or the aftermath of the Bobby Kennedy assassination. You could argue this is just to set the scene for the era, but it feels too deliberate, because even after that joyously fantastical ending, we remember that it was just a fairy tale and real life didn’t turn out as pleasantly. Tarantino’s ability to make his world and characters so meticulously detailed and lived-in works to great effect in instilling a bittersweet melancholy to this film in a way I was really taken aback by. It feels like a window into his soul, someone who yearns for the fantasy of the world he grew up in but remembering that not all good things last and not everything in your nostalgic past was good to begin with.

One beautiful, spellbinding scene is Rick and Cliff coming back from their excursion into the world of Italian filmmaking. In this montage, we see Rick, Cliff and Rick’s new Italian wife arriving at the airport and driving home before unpacking their baggage, interspersed with Sharon Tate welcoming a guest at her home and having lunch, before cutting to a series of shots of famous LA landmarks like Grauman's Chinese Theatre, Taco Bell, and Der Wienerschnitzel all meticulously resurrected in their retro glory as they light up the night. “Baby, baby, baby you’re out of time”, sings Mick Jagger as we’re watching multiple stories about people who are each embodying those words: Rick’s career, his friendship with Cliff, Sharon Tate, and Hollywood itself.

Tarantino himself feels like one of the last mainstream auteur filmmakers, as well as one of the last and biggest proponents of shooting large-budget movies on film (even Scorsese’s embraced digital now, the fantastically-talented traitor). And with the rise of streaming services, one can’t help but feel like the movie-going experience itself is also becoming obsolete, especially recently, what with theaters going to war with distributors over fucking TROLLS: WORLD TOUR, not to mention that global pandemic we’ve been having lately all but killing general audiences’ enthusiasm for the movie theater experience (Christopher Nolan’s TENET certainly didn’t help). If all these things, both real and fictional, are indeed out of time, then at least with Tarantino’s penultimate film they get one hell of a bittersweet sendoff, a great time that’s more of an Irish wake than a funeral, and it’s a film I have no issue calling a truly introspective, late-career masterpiece.

And that’s without mentioning uniformly incredible cast. Leo DiCaprio, an actor I normally don’t care too much for, gives the best and funniest performance of his career as a dependent prima donna actor clinging to his remaining fame. Brad Pitt earns the hell out of his Oscar as an embodiment of old-school masculinity and charisma with an amazing set of abs (and everything else) whose outward coolness masks his mysterious past and complete badass-ness. Margot Robbie shines in her depiction of Tate, a beacon of warmth and likability who in many ways symbolized the love and carefree attitudes of the swingin’ 60’s. I’ve heard people criticize her character for not having a lot of dialogue, but to me it feels like they’re ignoring the visual storytelling, which just gives way to them assuming the film is sexist just because the female lead isn’t constantly monologuing. Every member of the supporting cast is memorable with their own quirks and great lines, no matter their screentime.

And of course, it wouldn’t be a Tarantino joint without some truly hilarious and shocking violence, and without going into spoiler territory, the last 20 minutes delivers on this promise to such a degree that I feel comfortable calling it the best thing he’s ever done. Some may decry the climax as unnecessary or over-the-top, but the way it leads to an alternate world while subtly acknowledging what happened in the real one is cathartic beyond belief. And if you’re paying attention, every scene in the movie has been quietly building towards this finale, which to me takes away any potential of feeling meandering in the story. If you saw the movie and didn’t much care for it, I recommend giving it another watch. Having the context ahead of time makes it feel so much more rewarding, and even on the fifth watch I’m noticing clever, subtle set-ups I missed beforehand.

It’s also just super cozy and really easy to watch. The two hours and 45 minutes fly by. I could watch a 4-hour version of this.

Quentin, if you’re reading this, please don’t let your last movie be Star Trek.

[elcorhamletlive]

MCU Rewatch: The First Avenger

“this one has waited long enough” IT SURE FUCKING HAS

I like Red Skull’s introduction. I especially like the hints we get of his transformation (”you will burn”, “I already have” and the moment where he touches his cheek) and the two close-up shots we get of Hydra’s symbol, both spotless and then, after the scene, with blood splattered all over it. It’s not SUBTLE, but I like it.

THE SHOT OF THE BROOKLYN BRIDGE. I LOVE.

“Kind makes you think twice about enlisting, huh?” “Nope” I gotta say, I used to think this scene was the first guy teasing Steve, but rewatching I think he’s just making conversation and Steve is just full set on DETERMINATION MODE so his response is a little too blunt. lol I love it.

nnngg I love Evans’ facial expressions when he approaches the doctor??? The matter-of-factly way he explains both of his parents’ death (because he’s done this exact process many times before)??? I LOVE IT.

“Every able-bodied young man is serving his country” Look. Far be it from me to claim this movie has some groundbreaking message about disabilities or whatever, but it does such a good job on stablishing Steve’s motivations. There’s a reason Steve longs to prove himself that’s so clear on this one line alone.

jahodiawjojaojowjdioj look I know we aren’t even ten minutes in and I already can’t shut up but!!!!!!!! My rant about how “angry chihuahua Steve” is the worst characterization wasn’t even entirely COMPLETE because at the movies scene, Steve downright tries to calmly ask the dude to stop at first???? His expression is wary and he’s like “hey, can you show some respect” and only when the guy keeps going that he evolves to “hey, can you shut up”. STEVE IS A REASONABLE PERSON WHO DOESN’T GO AROUND PICKING FIGHTS FOR NO REASON, THANK YOU FOR COMING TO MY TED TALK.

“We’ll face any threat no matter the size” just as the dude stands up and faces down lil Steve. I LOVE.

Aside from the GARBAGE CAN AS A SHIELD MY HEART GROWS THREE SIZES EVERY TIME I SEE IT (STEVE FIRST INSTINCT IS ALWAYS TO DEFEND FIRST IT TAKES A RIDICULOUSLY LONG TIME IN THE FIGHT FOR HIM TO EVEN THROW A PUNCH), he takes three punches straight on the face, all of which knock him to the ground, standing up each time. I kind of live bc it would have been easy to just cut to Steve already beated up and the dude going “you don’t know when to give up huh”, but they make a point of showing him standing up. This movie has such a good attention to detail.

Bucky tells Steve he got his orders and Steve’s sole response is to listen and then go “I should be going”. Steve kind of went through a bunch of emotional - and literal - blows in sequence, but his first reaction is not to emotionally rely on his best friend but to retreat and be by himself. Bucky sees through it and pushes him to not do that, thankfully, but it’s still an interesting characterization thing.

I’m in love with the way Steve takes a breath and straightens his bangs when they meet the girls. HE’S SO NERVOUS and he already knows how this is going to go.

TAKE HIS GODDMAN PEANUTS DEAR GOD LADY, YOU DON’T HAVE TO MARRY HIM JUST DON’T BE RUDE!!!!

Dominic Cooper as young Howard is just perfect casting. He’s a delight to watch and he and Rdj look alike enough to see a family resemblance.

There’s a lot I can talk about Steve and Bucky’s argument at the fair, but I think it all boils down to the fact that I think both reasons they mention for Steve to insist on getting enlisted are true. Steve has something to prove, he wants to prove he’s not useless, and he also feels that, if someone is putting their lives on the line, he should also be out there doing the same. Both things can be points of influence, they don’t necessarily contradict each other.

Steve doesn’t have any delusions about war, though. Both of his parents died because of it. He doesn’t show any joy for Bucky when he’s recruited. At this point I do think he has respect for the army as an institution, but he knows war isn’t pretty.

Steve hurrying to put his shoes back on when he thinks he’s about to be arrested, lol. Pretty sure he would have tried to run away if the guard and Eskrine hadn’t shown up immediately.

One thing I like about this movie is that, although it doesn’t really challenge the idea of american patriotism significantly, it works around all the potentially unsavory aspects of a character like Steve with small details, such as giving Steve a non-american love interest and a non-american mentor, making a point to acknowledge their struggles as such (”Queen Victoria”), and also making a point to show how Steve himself doesn’t partake in this xenophobia. It’s one of the reasons this movie works.

That’s all to say I love Steve laughing when Peggy punches Hodge. He’s the only soldier who laughs. I love.

What does one pack to go prepare for war?? BOOKS, obviously. So many books. He’s a geek and I LOVE HIM.

The FLAG SCENE. How the sergeant guy doesn’t even expects him to DO anything and immediately tells him to fall back in line. His little “Thank you, sir” before he climbs the car!!!! This movie is just TOO FUCKING MUCH.

I teared up in the grenade scene. I feel like this is all you need to know about me as a person. The way he doesn’t hesitate, how he was willing to die right there in the middle of a training exercise gone wrong. How Peggy also rushes forward to do the same. The way his body curls over the grenade. This is my favorite scene in the entire MCU.

“He’s still skinny” nishuhseifh LOOK Phillips is a good and deserves more love, his perspective makes total sense and I enjoy all his moments in the film.

Also, when Phillips is defending the idea of picking Hodge to Eskrine, one of the things he says is “He follows orders, he’s a soldier”, which perfectly sets up the “not a perfect soldier, but a good man” theme that Eskrine will spell out in the next scene.

“Can I ask you a question?” “Just one?” LISTEN!! Eskrine thinks Steve must have a thousand questions about the nature of the procedure, but Steve DOESN’T because he doesn’t CARE he will do whatever it takes, the only thing he wants to know is why him because that is the only thing he can’t bring himself to understand.

“So many people forget the first country the nazis invaded was their own” Like I said, this humanity that is granted towards non-american characters is a crucial piece of why this movie succeeds, and this line is iconic and actually a pretty important piece of perspective in a WWII movie.

I love the scene of Steve and Peggy in the back of the car so much, it’s my favorite Steggy scene. Steve is just so clueless, starting his first conversation ever with a woman with “HEY LOOK AT ALL THESE PLACES WHERE I GOT MY ASS KICKED”, and I really like the parallel that is stablished between them when Peggy mentions every door shut in her face, and how Steve doesn’t really get Peggy’s motivations but he respects it, even if he fumbles through when he talks about it. 

I just love how sincere the whole thing is. “The right partner”, he says, not even looking at Peggy, not using it as a line to flirt with her. He’s just earnestly and openly saying that he’s a) terrible with romance and b) a huge romantic all the same. I LOVE.

He’s terrified in the serum scene, but he still cracks a joke when Eskrine asks him. Also, Eskrine landing a hand on his shoulder to steady him is so sweet. And then the procedure in itself is so painful and Eskrine and Peggy are ready to stop it but he yells he can do it. I’m just narrating the movie at this point but I love it. I love everything.

The first shot of Steve post-serum is so hilariously pornographic, I still can’t believe it.

Peggy is actually the first one to pursuit the Hydra spy. Steve’s first focus is just on Eskrine. Strong characterization is all over this movie and it’s so good.

PEGGY SHOOTING THE DRIVER IN THE HEAD FROM SUCH A LONG DISTANCE IS SUCH A BADASS MOMENT.

Also she shouts “I had him!” when Steve saves her! This movie does so much to stablish she and Steve are really alike, I appreciate it so much.

I’m gonna refrain from objectifying Chris too much because god knows this is getting too long without this constant point, but the tits are out of control on the car chase scene. God bless.

And I love how he has no sense of balance or control of his speed. Crashing into a store and then apologizing as he runs away. lol

He’s so emotionally distraught over Eskrine’s death. And the Phillips delivers such a huge blow with his “You are not enough” line. This is SUCH a theme with Steve through his mcu narrative, and it calls back to his feelings of helplessness pre-serum. It always hurts me to hear it.

I LOVE THE STAR-SPANGLED MAN SONG SO MUCH. It’s such a fun sequence and it makes sense and it’s such a clever choice to have that in the movie. Like, instead of hiding how incredibly cheesy a character like “Captain America” can be, let’s just play it up to deliberately ridiculous levels giving a nod to war propaganda! It’s SO GOOD.

And there’s so many moments in this sequence, too. Steve with his perfect post-serum memory still having to read cue cards. His awkwardness holding the baby and his relief when he hands it back to the mom. The Hitler punching, the comic books!! This movie really hits a wonderful balance of honoring the essence of Steve’s original character while also presenting him in a way that makes him relatable and likeable to non-american audiences.

I love that Steve doesn’t even get mad at the soldiers mocking him. They tell him to get the girls back and he’s honestly just like “uuuh I think they only know one song, but I’ll see what I can do”. And then the soldiers call him a fairy (”Tinkerbell”) and throw fruits at him and he’s just upset, but not mad. He gets where they’re coming from and he kind of agrees, as we see later by the dancing monkey draw. Steve was never comfortable on stage.

“You two will be in a lot of trouble when we land” HE’S WORRIED ABOUT PEGGY AND HOWARD BEFORE DROPPING ALONE INSIDE ENEMY LINES HA... HA.... HA.............. MY HEART IS BLEEDING I LOVE HIM SO MUCH.

The little smile Bucky gets when Steve says it’s him is the cutest stucky moment. 40s stucky is the best stucky. 

“did it hurt?” “A little” lol okay Steve

Flustered Steve is adorable. And Howard explaning to him what fondue is. lol

That being said I don’t like the scene where Peggy shoots the shield. Maybe my least favorite moment in the movie.

Okay, ideally, the Howling Commandos would have gotten a little more screentime and development, but I still feel like their sequences work. 

“Remember when I made you ride the Cyclone in Coney Island?” This line is hilarious to me because I went to Coney Island last year and rode the Cyclone and there’s literally a poster specifically warning people with heart issues or who are easily sick NOT to ride. Bucky, what were you thinking. lol

I love the motorcycle so much, and I love that it becomes a Steve thing.

“We can’t just knock on the front door” “Why not?” :D

I feel like Steve moves in to kiss Peggy after she rescues him, and then she kind of reminds him of the battle. lol It’s cute.

I had never noticed Red Skull disappears going upwards into space. It’s incredible to think IW took such a small piece of open narrative and paid it off.

Fandom is full of hot takes about Steve’s sacrifice and each one is more terrible than the other, but I’m not gonna waste time salting here, I just want to say it’s a beautiful and moving scene and I love that he stays talking to Peggy until the very end.

Peggy looking at the picture of pre-serum Steve and the theme playing in the background!!!!!! I’M EMOTIONAL.

I feel like SHIELD was onto something trying to break everything slowly to Steve. But I love that he finds out, and I love the headcanon that Fury meant to test him and see if he’d found out even more.

I’ve seen the alternate ending where Fury talks to Steve more and reassures him they need him and etc, and I get why from an emotional standpoint you’d want Steve to get that reassurance, but narratively I feel like the emotional punch of “I had a date” is pretty much perfect and the alternate ending would have taken away from it. It’s such a great ending.

Welp, here we are. I love this movie. I love love love it. It’s a movie I’ve rewatched before a couple times, but I still got so emotional rewatching it today. There’s so much attention to detail, strenght in characterization, and space for characters to feel and develop. It’s amazing that we spend pretty much the entire first act with smol Steve. I love it with all my heart.

[lady-divine-writes]

Klaine one-shot - “Mislaid Destiny” (Rated PG)

Blaine works at a boutique market when he meets a man he’s sure is made for him by the contents in his shopping cart. (1938 words)

Notes: This is a re-write. Based on a personal experience.

Read on AO3.

It’s 2:15 in the afternoon – not yet time for the usual afternoon rush, but the store is still fairly busy. Blaine glances down the conveyor belt at the items currently being purchased by the elf-ish man standing behind the counter. The man looks back at Blaine, a shy grin curling his rosy lips as he waits to hand Blaine his money.

He’s polite, quiet, and slightly impatient, so Blaine does his best to speed things up for him.

Working as a cashier at this boutique little catch-all market isn’t Blaine’s dream job by any means, but it does have its perks. Money being one of them, of course - the biggest one since he’ll have completed his master’s degree soon, and then the age-old tradition of dodging the college loan officer will begin.

Another is people watching. As a performer, it is essential that he observe people from all walks of life. Over the past few years, Blaine has come to discover that he can tell more about someone by the way they stand, the movement of their eyes, the quality of their smile (whether it’s tight, genuine, if it reaches their eyes, or if it’s plain non-existent), and from the things they buy than from any amount of conversation.

His favorite customers so far have been a twelve-year-old girl who comes in every Friday around four with her brothers and sisters for hot dogs and ice cream (he is constantly amazed by her cool under pressure, her wisdom beyond her years, the unconditional love she shows her siblings even though the eldest of them is half her age and screams constantly); and an older gentleman who stops by two to three times a week for lemon meringue pie, who talks to Blaine about his deceased wife, his kids, and his time as a combat veteran until he backs up the line. But Blaine doesn’t mind. He assumes the man doesn’t have anyone nearby to talk to. And his life has been so interesting. Blaine’s other customers usually understand, and either wait patiently, enjoying the tales themselves, or go to another line.

As far as purchases made, his fave combinations of products have been, on one occasion, a can of baby formula and twelve six-packs of beer; on another - a box of chocolates, a bottle of wine, and a meat cleaver; and the pièce de résistance - a bottle of lubricant, a Winx DVD, sixteen cans of aerosol whipped cream, and a box of condoms.

In the three years Blaine has spent working at this store, never once has he found himself drawn to a customer in anything other than a professional way. He constructs an invisible wall between him and them – a line that should not be crossed. So he’s surprised at how this one customer has managed to capture his attention so completely. Though the man in front of him, rolling endlessly back and forth on the balls of his feet, isn’t necessarily Blaine’s type physically, the items on the belt are painting a picture that is quickly winning him over.

James Patterson’s Invisible – only one of Blaine’s favorite James Patterson books ever.

“I’ve read this,” he says nonchalantly as he scans the book and puts it into a shopping bag. “It’s fascinating. A real page turner.”

The man smiles wider, preening beneath Blaine’s approval of his book selection. It’s a nice smile. He doesn’t seem to like showing his teeth, but that’s alright. The fact that he also smiles with his eyes makes up for it.

Blaine moves on to the next item - a container of gourmet chicken noodle soup, the kind they make from scratch here at the store. Chicken noodle soup is one of Blaine’s all-time top choice comfort foods, and he can definitely appreciate a person who spends a little extra money to get the best.

A cronut – cronuts happen to be Blaine’s all-time favorite bakery item … and his biggest weakness. If not for cronuts, Blaine wouldn’t have gained fifteen pounds his first semester of college. He’s managed to lose the weight and keep it off since then, balancing his love of cronuts with a healthy diet and exercise. But amongst his other actor and model friends, he stands alone in his cronut obsession. It might be nice to find someone to share it with.

Blaine scans a bottle of Camus - a nice mid-brand cognac. Cognac is another one of Blaine’s guilty pleasures - an indulgence introduced to him by his first high school boyfriend his senior year. He’s not a heavy drinker, but sometimes he slips a bit in his coffee at bedtime, especially when he feels under the weather.

A bar of Yardley’s lavender-scented soap – Blaine’s grandmother always used this soap. Her skin, her hair, her entire house used to smell like lavender. It was her signature scent. God, Blaine misses her so much.

A dozen sterling roses – for some reason, sterlings are extremely difficult to get in the city. The store where Blaine works stocks them once in a blue moon, and he tries to buy them when they do. He’s a little sad to see this bunch go, but considering everything else, maybe this time he can let it slide.

Topping it all off, this month’s copy of Vogue, indicating a man with an interest in fashion, style, and sophistication. Blaine likes to consider himself fashion-forward, though he hasn’t exactly graduated from the 50s retro crooner chic he sported in high school - mainly sweater vests, wingtips, and bowties. They’ve been his go-to for so long, he doesn’t really own anything else.

But he’d be willing to learn from someone knowledgeable, who could spare time to give him a few pointers.

Plus, Blaine notes as he packs the magazine in with the other groceries, the man brought his own reusable bags to boot. Whether out of thrift or concern for the environment, Blaine finds the gesture very attractive.

If Blaine were ever to fall for a man based solely on his purchases, this man would be perfect.

Would it be weird to admit that to him, considering he’s at work and the man hasn’t spoken a word to him yet?

Blaine watches the man fidget uncomfortably, as if he knows his purchases are being scrutinized. He rises up on the balls of his feet and takes odd peeks out the window at a blue Honda parked out front.

He probably left his doors unlocked, Blaine surmises. Blaine would prefer to believe that as opposed to the possibility that he’s creeping this poor man out so much he can’t wait to grab his bags and run.

Blaine gives the bags a final once over before he loads them into the man’s shopping cart. Should he take the plunge and ask him out? This might not be the most appropriate of circumstances. Lord knows what his manager would think. Blaine isn’t so desperate that he needs to shop for a boyfriend at work, but it feels like decades since he’s gone out on a real date with someone he didn’t meet at a bar or on a dating website. He considers himself outgoing, he’s definitely not shy, but he can never seem to find someone he shares any real interests with. His type or no, this man seems oddly tailor made for him.

And he has blue eyes.

Blaine is a sucker for a beautiful pair of blue eyes.

“I’m going to need to see some i.d.,” Blaine says. When the man furrows his brow, Blaine explains, “For the liquor.” Blaine points to a sign hanging behind him at the register that explains the rules on carding for alcohol purchases in New York City. “It’s the law.”

“Oh … oh yes, of course.” The man shakes his head with a nervous laugh, reaching into his back pocket for his wallet.

A wallet that’s basically one big rainbow flag, the same wallet Blaine’s friend Brittany gave him at NYC Pride March last year.

Another interesting sign.

He opens it, pulls out his driver’s license, and hands it over.

“Chandler Kiehl,” Blaine reads out loud.

“That’s my name, don’t wear it out.” Chandler giggles.

“I’m Blaine,” Blaine says, handing Chandler back his driver’s license.

“I know. It’s on your name tag.” Chandler reaches a long finger and taps the tag pinned to Blaine’s navy blue polo shirt.

“Right.” Blaine looks down at the tag, then back at Chandler. “Look, this might seem weird …” he starts out, trying to sound as sincere (and look as non-threatening) as he can. “I mean, I’ve definitely never done this before, but can I maybe ask you for your phone number?”

Chandler’s eyes open wide, his smile overwhelming his face.

“Ooo-la-la!” he exclaims, blushing to his roots. “Of course you may!”

Blaine hands Chandler a pen and a scratch piece of paper, and Chandler quickly but neatly scrawls out his name and number. When Chandler’s done, Blaine takes the pen and the slip of paper back, putting the number safely in the pocket of his khaki slacks.

“So, I’ll call you tonight?” Blaine asks.

“Sounds like a plan.” Chandler hands over a hundred dollar bill, keeping his hand out for the change.

“There you go.” Blaine hands Chandler the change, his own smile growing to match Chandler’s infectious glee. “Do you need any help out to your car?”

“Nope,” Chandler practically sings. “I think I’ve got it.”

“It was nice meeting you, Chandler,” Blaine says with a wink.

“Et vous, aussi, Blaine,” Chandler coos. He skips away, pushing the cart with the bags inside, swaying his hips in case Blaine is watching him leave.

Caught up immediately with another customer, Blaine doesn’t watch Chandler as he heads for the blue car out front. Chandler puts the bags in the back seat of his car, then climbs into the driver's seat, still aglow and giddy, doing a tiny dance as he buckles his seatbelt. Then he turns to the passenger seat, reclined all the way, with his best friend laying back on it, a tissue pressed to his nose.

“Dank you so much vor dis, Chadler,” Kurt mumbles around a cough, sniffling when he catches his breath.

“No problem,” Chandler says with a wave of his hand. “I promised I would take care of you until you got better, and so I shall. How are you feeling?”

“I veel like cwap.” Kurt blows his nose. “Der waz no way I waz going to be able to go in that store and buy my gwoceries.”

“Well, I do have to say you have some interesting tastes,” Chandler comments, looking over his shoulder at the bags in the back seat. “Oh! But you totally missed out on the hot cashier Blaine.”

“Oh?” Kurt raises a brow.

“Yup.” Chandler sighs dreamily. “He’s dark and handsome, with a sort of Elvis Presley-thing going …”

“Did he have a cute smile?” Kurt asks with more interest. He’s a sucker for a man with a smooth, seductive smile.

“The cutest!” Chandler chirps, putting a hand dramatically over his heart. “And the best thing is he asked me for my number!”

“Weally?” Kurt asks, a twinge of jealousy pinging inside his chest.

“Yeah, out of the blue,” Chandler explains, starting up the car. “I don’t really understand it. I barely said a word to him.”

“Well, maybe it’s just meant to be.”

“Maybe,” Chandler says, smiling at the thought of fate steering him in the path of this handsome man.

Kurt smiles at his besotted friend and closes his eyes, daydreaming of a mysterious man asking for his phone number.

[theonceoverthinker]

Marital Bliss? : Chapter 1 : A Cursed Life?

Disclaimer: I don’t own Once Upon a Time nor any of the characters, items, or settings.

New to my story and want to catch up? Start from the beginning here!

A/N: Thank you to everyone who read the last chapter! I’ve been writing like a mad woman! Between editing the older chapters, writing the newest one, planning out the future of the fic, watching (and rewatching) the actual show, and ultimately re-defining what I want to do with this story, Once Upon a Time has all but consumed my soul. Then again, it was kind of doing that before! XD

Please review and enjoy!!!!

                                             “A Cursed Life?”

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Robert Gold found that his days had two highlights.

The first was waking up.

Beep.

Beep.

Robert awoke with a contented sigh. His left cheek was covered from the mid-autumn chill by the guard of flesh at its side while his right cheek was protected, albeit less so, by locks that bordered on the line between brown and dirty blonde, but stayed just dark enough that they were classified by everyone as the former. A heartbeat drummed against his ear, and it belonged to someone who Robert could tell was clearly awake, but was just as clearly trying to feign it in some mad attempt to make him forget the very sound pulsing against his opposing ear. Robert was almost insulted to see such a ploy being considered the least bit credible. He recognized the distinction between his bedmate’s every movement at any given time of the day perfectly, whether it be a heartbeat or the way his fingers trailed down his arms.

Real convincing, Miles.

Robert opened his eyes to an unsurprising sight. He was sprawled on top of his husband Miles’ stomach, his head resting on the other man’s bare, hairy chest, with various other limbs tangled as the only remnants of a satisfying night together. Miles, despite his silent bargaining, was indeed no longer asleep. His eyes were shut, but the more vocal snores that he let out as he rested were no longer audible and now resembled what the raven-haired man merely believed his snores to sound like.

Beep.

Beep.

The urge to quiet the sounds of the beeping alarm clock on his nightstand were only matched by the consuming temptation to not move out of his and Miles’ warm, affection-fueled cocoon.

Beep.

Beep.

It’s not going to stop on it’s own, is it?

Looks like my decision’s been made for me…

With a groan, Robert untangled his right arm from his husband’s and hit the alarm clock, ending its cries. However, he barely found himself able to do so, for Miles pulled his arm back the instant their separation became evident.

“Bloody alarm clock,” Miles groaned groggily, his eyes fighting to stay shut. “There’s no way that it’s already seven. I swear, one blink of the eye ago it was still dark.” Robert chuckled. It had become one of his bedmate’s favorite pastimes to deny the absolute truth of the device that slept directly beside him.

“The clock never lies, Miles, and right now, it says it’s seven,” Robert said. He tried to pull himself off of Miles, but his husband was determined to steal more time, the threat of being late for work be damned because he simply refused to be parted from the man in his arms. A hand bunkered down around the small of Robert’s back and the top of his torso was sealed onto Miles’ ribs. “Someone’s feeling in a stubborn mood this morning,” he continued to comment.

“Damn right I am.”

Honestly though, while Robert may have teased about Miles’ reaction, he had no genuine complaints about staying in bed for a few extra minutes. They nights may have been on the verge of getting longer, but that didn’t stop them from feeling as short as they ever were. Compared to facing the too-bright, too-loud, and too-lonely outside world, staying here, in the arms of the one person on this Earth who sincerely and wholeheartedly wanted him was easily the more appealing choice.

So, the couple stayed in bed, keeping each other cozy and happy. Early on, Miles’ stub dropped from Robert’s shoulders, from what Robert assumed was discomfort. Robert’s right hand made its way to the stub, the reminder of the hand that should’ve been there, and simply held it. Stubble tickled his temple, and his forehead stretched; that told him of the smile born of nothing but pure bliss he had earned from his husband for the action. Robert knew the meaning behind the smile, and while it was appreciated, for his purposes, it was completely unnecessary. The hand that once sat upon the stub he held might not have been there, but Robert never saw his husband as any less of a man for it. After all, disabilities had been a common part of their relationship for as long as the two had even known each other.

For Miles, it was his missing hand. For Robert, it was his limp, which bound his movements to the will of a cane.

Miles McAyesty and Robert Gold had first met in the hospital, the juncture where tragedy had dropped them both off. Robert was the sole survivor of a run in with a drunk driver that had deprived him of both a wife and a son. Miles was just a fisherman who, while helping to bring in a net of recently caught seafood, had suffered a bite from a shark hidden in the net’s confines that had cost him his left hand. Fate brought them together as roommates in a hospital, and seemed to leave them in each other’s hands, just as they needed someone to understand their plights the most.

At first, Robert didn’t speak to Miles so much as observe him. The man had a way of making light of his situation to the droves of people that came in and visited him. At first, it made Robert’s eyes roll. The man had lost his hand, and there he was, joking and playing around as if it meant nothing!

It wasn’t until later that night, when visiting hours were over and Miles did start asking questions did Robert understand: The jokes had all been an act, both a coping mechanism and a way to brush off unwanted interlopers in one neat little package. However, whether it be the effect of a performance too well conducted or the simple ineptitude of the hospital’s staff, Miles’ grave seemed to be all but dug, or at least it would have had he not interfered. Referrals for everything from handymen to hotels started flying from Robert’s lips before he even knew it, but even as he was coming to terms with his simple acts of kindness, he wasn’t protesting them.

Miles did the same in kind for him, given the differences of respects for their cases. Most people in Storybrooke, despite their tepid histories with Robert, often described by the townspeople as the uptight landlord with an even tighter grip on his control of the town than his portly wallet, at least had the decency to offer condolences for his losses as they were visiting Miles, but none made a truly sincere effort to assuage his consuming grief. It was pity, and Robert was soon enough more inclined to dismiss his visitors than anything after the condolences, lying about wishing to sleep or get his affairs in order.

Miles, however, was different, and after receiving his much needed help, really talked with Robert, rather than just to him. He would ask about his son and wife, but not just about the accident, but about who they were as people. He asked about how Robert and Lara had fallen in love. He asked about the cartoons Oliver would watch with him. He gave Robert the nickname ‘Rob.’

At first, Robert was convinced it was just pity again. He answered the questions, and while he admitted that the questions succeeded in making him feel better than anyone or anything else had up to that point, he questioned whether Miles’ curiosity stemmed from a place of genuine curiosity, as a settlement of an unspoken debt between them for the information Robert had supplied, or even just as a way of fighting off boredom or further contemplations concerning his new situation. When Miles was discharged from the hospital the following evening, Robert was convinced that that this would be the last he would see of the man.

Surely, someone so popular and beloved by the town wouldn’t waste too much thought on him?

Imagine Robert’s surprise when Miles showed up to visit him the next day, staying from noon until almost ten that night. As soon as he saw Miles there, prepared to give up an entire day of his life just for him, only out of the desire for his company, did Robert discover that Miles was getting him to, while not move past, find hope that he could someday move forward from the incident that had caused him so much pain. Miles urged and convinced Robert to take occupational therapy with him, cheering him on each time Robert learned a new skill, and buying him a drink when he was having too much trouble accomplishing the task of the moment.

It wasn’t a one-way support system either. The two worked together to format Miles’ apartment to accommodate his lost hand, and made sure that everything he would need would be safe and accessible. In addition, Robert made sure that Miles wasn’t over exerting himself. His later husband had a bad habit of feeling insecure about his hand and the abilities that had been hindered with its removal. As much as Miles liked to jest often about his strengths even without the appendage, Robert knew there were just as many occurrences when Miles felt weaker and that he owed it to himself to compensate for the disability. They would appear during the times one would least expect. He would be bringing in groceries or tidying up a room and while the lamentation wouldn’t verbalize itself, it would be plain as day to Robert. Those were the moments that Robert was there for. He, not through pitying dime-a-dozen speeches or fake gestures of compassion, but through examples, a bit of creativity, and the shared knowledge of their similar plights, spent many a night assuring Miles that he had absolutely nothing to prove, and that he was still a whole man in every way, no matter what he did or didn’t do.

They began having dinner together a few times a week, becoming each other’s closest companions in what amounted to no time at all. After a year and a half, feeling that he was finally ready to move on from the loss of his Lara, Robert asked Miles on a date, which was met with far more excitement than Robert had anticipated. As one date turned to many, Miles made a drawer for himself in Robert’s house. Then, on the one-year anniversary of their first date, Miles proposed with a glorious band of gold. Robert’s “yes” had the older man lose any semblance of self-consciousness for the moment and practically jump into Miles’ arms for a kiss. Three months later, they were married, and Robert’s house became their home.

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It took five minutes before Miles finally gave in and opened his eyes, the color of the summertime ocean greeting Robert. Robert never ceased to be amazed at what a gorgeous and stark shade they were.

“Well, if I can say one good thing about getting up early,” Miles started, “it’s that I get to wake up to a very beautiful face.” Miles leaned in to the face in question, planting a soft, yet passion-filled kiss upon Robert’s lips, and he could tell in an instant that it encompassed a thank you for last night. Robert, unwilling to resist Miles’ charm, immediately met his husband’s lips with his own. Miles pressed his tongue to Robert’s lips, and Robert immediately opened his mouth in response. He put his disdain for morning breath to the side and elected to ignore it as his and Miles’ tongue danced.

“Good morning to you too,” Robert said as they finally parted, smiling. Robert caressed the back of Miles’ head. Miles’ smile grew and Robert continued to tickle the short black hairs, getting the grin to a point where Miles was showing off his teeth. Robert loved when he was able to bring that about. Miles, in turn, started swirling around locks of Robert’s hair with his fingers.

Robert leaned in, and Miles, clearly expecting another kiss, closed his eyes in anticipation. But, when Robert got close enough, he turned so that his lips were mere centimeters from Miles’ ear.

“Come on, dearie,” Robert whispered. He tapped his husband’s lap. “We have to get ready.” Robert smirked as his partner reopened his eyes. Albeit rolling his eyes, Miles conceded, and finally removed his arms from Robert’s backside.

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After two quick showers, two quick cups of coffee, and one more kiss that Robert could at least say he made an attempt to keep quick, he and Miles were out the door.

Miles was dropped off first at the docks. There, the S.S. Fairyweather rocked back and forth infinitely alongside the pier, welcoming the staff aboard for another day on the water. Robert reminded Miles to keep his jacket on while he working, and Miles agreed, though his reaction was more reminiscent of a child agreeing with a parent so they could be left alone. Robert rolled his eyes. He’d been on enough boats with Miles, as well as had to care for his sick husband enough times, to know that it could get blisteringly cold out on the sea, especially with winter slowly creeping up on them, getting closer with each passing day. Miles preferred to dress on the lighter side, often complaining about how hot it got in the midst of doing the heavy lifting. Robert didn’t think he was wrong, per se, but that when the temperatures were less than forty degrees, some more caution could stand to be implemented, even if that meant his comfort had to be compromised to a degree.

Robert’s next stop was to his home away from home, his shop. Just on the far side of town, sat Gold’s Pawn Shop. It was the where Robert spent most of his day, surrounded by goods traded in from just about everyone in Storybrooke since it first opened. Antiquities graced every wall and shelf, not to mention a great deal of the available counter space in both the shop itself and the personal office in the back that was hidden by a delicate curtain. Though it was always nice to settle himself on a chair and wait for business to present itself, Robert’s visit here today was a short one. The pawnbroker wasted no time with his typical morning routine, for he was keen on getting his paperwork in order so he could get started on his day.

Today, after all, was the rent day.

Once a month, Robert would go around to all of his properties in Storybrooke he owned and collect the rent. It was a big undertaking, given just how many buildings and plots of land he possessed, but Robert had gotten it down to a science to make sure he could accomplish it in one day, barring a few companies that paid more often.

Why scale down the collection period to only a single day, one may be inclined to ask?

It wasn’t that Robert didn’t enjoy collecting the rent. He definitely did. There was something to enjoy about flaunting his wealth and power in everyone’s face. His outward appearance hardly lent itself to be intimidating to the public, but what his body couldn’t do, his mind, influence, and checkbook could. Robert took pleasure in seeing the hearts of the shopkeepers stop, if only for the barest of seconds as he entered the room. The stoic tone some of Robert’s tenants had as they formally referred to him as “Mr. Gold” created a unique feeling of delight for him.

However, that power came with consequences. The townspeople, over the years, had come to think of Robert as a monster, and rent day did quite a bit to remind him of that. It came out in small ways, of course. No one in their right mind would outright curse out their landlord. However, tight words and whispers behind his back spoke volumes that outright confessions didn’t. It didn’t bother Robert, he argued against himself just as he did many times before. He wasn’t someone who needed excessive amounts of companionship. He didn’t want it anyways, or at least not enough to admit to anyone.

…Maybe he wanted it a little.

...Then again, last time he had had any level of admiration by this town, it been a disaster.

Robert had tried to be kinder in the past with the way he collected his payments, back when he was a greenhorn in the business. He attempted to take a more personal approach to building relationships with those he dealt with professionally and strived to work out reasonable plans for how others would give him his money. His efforts ended with a bottom line very far in the red. He had a large home, but one that’s size swallowed him whole, and the goodwill that he had supposedly earned turned out to be rather conditional when he explained his situation to his tenants, hoping for sympathy and instead receiving empty platitudes and hollow promises for assistance. After that, with morality earning him very little, Robert decided that a change was in order.

A new agreement was issued with very fine print, and Robert’s tenants, too blissful in their ignorance, failed to read the conditions. The payment plans he had worked on for those hard on their luck changed, and left quite a few of the borrowers now scrambling month-by-month to make payments on time, lest they face eviction. Robert himself started dressing sharper and acting more confidently. His tone became harsher when he was acting on business. The result this time was the attention of a woman who would one day be his wife, a child, and a bank account that had more figures than he knew what to do with. Even when he had lost Lara and Oliver, Robert’s sternness played its role in bringing he and Miles closer together. 

Because of his practices, Robert had everything he could ever want.

And all it had cost him was a significant level of his humanity.

Sometimes, despite logic proving his methods of life to be ultimately wiser, Robert wished he could be more like his husband.

It was no secret that Miles was easily the more likeable of the two, and Robert conceded that people had good reasons to believe so. For one thing, Miles didn’t go around once a month collecting their money like clockwork, and with a smile on his face to boot. For another, Robert was not someone who one would consider an understanding man. Should one of Robert’s clients be unable to make a payment on time, his usual response was not so much as to work with them, not anymore in any case, but to give them, what he deemed and described as, the ‘adequate pressure’ needed to assure that the mistake would be rectified. Often, this pressure involved confiscating assets integral to the client’s livelihood until the matter was resolved. While this definitely served the purpose of lowering delinquent payments from his clients as well as setting an example of the price of failure, it had an added bonus of making Robert almost universally loathed throughout Storybrooke.

To conclude, Miles was not as much of a, for lack of a better term, social pariah as Robert. When Robert entered a room, he was always looked upon as a force of intimidation, and whether his tenants responded to his presence with either fear or vitriol, the typical interactions were not very open for building meaningful relationships. They paid, and he left. That was the cycle that the landlord and his business lived and thrived by, though it did little to earn Robert any semblance of a social life outside of his husband.

No, Miles did none of those things. Miles was the charming fisherman. He was the man who always had a story or a joke to tell and could get on anyone’s good side in a matter of minutes. He was the one with a golden smile only matched by his golden tongue. When Miles talked to you, the only reason behind it was simply to see if you were well. Needless to say, when they got married, Miles’ friends made up the vast majority of their guest list for the reception.

Robert knew that Miles’ friends didn’t approve of the younger man’s choice of spouse. While none of them would ever say it outright to either of their faces, especially since Robert owned a good portion of their businesses and homes, it was clear that Robert was far from their first choice of a companion for the man. On its own, this was bad enough, but they showed their displeasure often, granted through more subtle means. Most to all of their interactions with Miles didn’t include Robert, and significantly more often than not, when Miles actually managed to convince Robert to join his friends and he in whatever plans they had, many of them would end up dropping out before the plans could even occur. However, if Miles noticed it, he never seemed to let it get to him.

“More for us,” he would say when his friends would all become occupied with their spouses, children, or jobs as opposed to going out for drinks on a Saturday night.

“Well, at least no one’s going to mind when we make out like teenagers on this couch,” he would jest when Whale and Leroy would complain about head and stomach aches mere hours before a football game would begin.

“Looks like you get a private gun show,” he would boast after “work stuff came up” for five people almost simultaneously on a beach day that was planned far too well in advance for such a drop-out to be deemed appropriate or even possible.

Just as Robert had been was when he was younger, Miles too was understanding, patient, and kind to all those he came across, and just like Robert, he suffered for it. His friends could hardly deal with Robert, even if it meant abandoning Miles.

The difference between Robert and Miles, something that didn’t take long for the former to take away from the latter at all was that these snubs and slight, as numerous as they were, never stopped Miles from continuing to give everyone he knew his best. He wasn’t overly trusting of course, but he helped where he thought he could. Sometimes, despite an unspoken agreement between the two that Miles would generally stay out of Robert’s businesses, his heart led to him asking for Robert to be merciful to his debtors. All too often, Robert, faced with pleas for sympathy from his husband would find that he did, in fact, have the moral capacity to follow the advice given.

Honestly, I don’t know what I did to deserve him. He’s much too good for me.

Robert sighed, continuing on with his day.

Well, I have him, deserving of his love or not. Couldn’t hurt to try and be a little better, if only for him.

The first few hours worth of stops on his route were as standard as they ever were. Payments would come in swiftly, and he’d be curtly encouraged to leave, sometimes not even subtly, as soon as the money was in his hands.

The next place Robert’s collection tour led him to was Granny’s. Robert parked his car down the road. There were a lot of properties he owned along Main Street, so he knew he’d be there for some time. The diner had people walking in, groups at a time, as he approached. Robert didn’t need to look at his watch to know that the lunch rush was approaching. He always scheduled his pickup to be around this time. Robert and Granny seldom saw eye-to-eye, and he didn’t pretend there wasn’t some enjoyment to be taken about landing another burden upon the grumpy elderly woman’s shoulders.

Robert examined the current state of the restaurant and its owner through the window. Granny stood in the midst of the mayhem, holding a cup of coffee in one hand and a plate with a grilled cheese sandwich in another. After a moment, the chef made eye contact with him, and her eyes rolled.

Ordinarily, Robert would’ve walked into the restaurant without even a second thought.

It would’ve been as easy as the pie he guaranteed someone was ordering at that very moment.

But then Robert started thinking about Miles, and the conclusion he reached earlier.

Perhaps this would be step one towards being a little better.

Again, I guess it couldn’t hurt.

Just as Granny was about to call her granddaughter for help, he made a stopping motion with his hand, making his intentions known that he would come back later for the acquisition of his money.

Robert wasn’t sure what to expect. Would she give him another eye roll? Would she simply ignore him and go back to her regulars?

As it turned out, his kindness had bore some fruits.

Granny responded with a grateful nod and the barest beginnings of a smile before returning to serving her many customers.

It was a small gesture, but it was so rare to see anyone outside of Miles respond to him with anything that resembled kindness. It made the whole endeavor feel…worthwhile.

I have to admit, that went better than I thought it would.

The rest of Robert’s afternoon was rather uneventful. He continued on through the town. Riding the high of his experiment at the diner, he did attempt to engage in small talk as his money was prepared from some of the less hostile tenants. To some extent, it worked. A few answered the questions he asked, and a couple of them even went so far as to ask about himself and Miles.

Still, most followed the same procedure: They paid, and he left. Some included their own varieties of snark in an attempt to hide their fear as they handed Robert all manner and forms of money.

The last client of the day was particularly snippy, easily the hardest he had dealt with all day. She was a teenager in charge of giving him a check for the mortgage on her parent’s house, and had less than kind things to say about the struggle her parents faced every month thanks to him.

Under normal circumstances, Robert might have “suddenly needed” to spring a five percent rise in the minimum payments per month for “extra insurance,” as he often put it, or some other consequence of the kind, but he took a deep breath.

Would Miles do that?

No. No he wouldn’t, and you shouldn’t either. She’s just a child worried for her family.

Oliver would’ve done the same for you, even at her age.

That thought gave Robert cause for a pause. It didn’t happen often, and Robert wished that it would not happen at all, but on a rare occasion, a day would go by where he didn’t think of his son. Today, had it not been for that young girl, would had nearly been one of them.

Robert took his money politely excused himself, mentally muting anything else the girl had to say, and got into his car, simply sitting there as memories of a son who no longer lived flooded his mind.

Oliver. You would’ve been the finest young man to ever tread the streets of Storybrooke. You were too good for this world.

Halloween was approaching. Years ago, Robert would’ve been helping Oliver pick out a costume, caught between laughing as a little Dracula ran throughout the house and scolding the boy for endangering himself by doing so. He should’ve still been doing things with his boy, regardless of the passing years. Or at the very least, even without him around, Oliver should’ve been doing things, happily with groups of friends, or perhaps even a lover at this point.

It wasn’t fair.

Life just isn’t the same without you, and it never will be again.

Robert stayed in the car. He knew with a phone call, Miles would be by his side, but right now, he just wanted to ride this wave of grief out by itself. It wasn’t that Miles was a bad source of comfort, not at all. Miles had helped pull Robert up from a nearly-consuming depression and allowed for him to move forward. Right now though, Robert just wanted to fall back, and sometimes to do that, he just needed to be alone.

It took time, but after a while, Robert found himself able to put his grief into some degree of rest and make his way back to the house.

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Robert’s second highlight of the day was coming home from work.

The lights were on, signaling that Miles was already inside. He liked walking home from work most days, though with winter approaching, Robert would soon insist upon assisting him with the return trip too, and Miles would begrudgingly agree.

I swear, I don’t think he cares if he gets pneumonia.

When he opened the door, Miles was right there, waiting with a smile and a kiss, as he always did.

“Welcome home, love,” Miles murmured, loosening his lips from Robert’s before, going in for another. Breathing his husband in as they kissed, Robert was treated to traces of salt water, his husband’s natural musk, and just a hint of freshly poured rum.

“Good welcoming you came up with,” Robert returned.

“As if that’s all I prepared,” Miles said smiling. “I cooked your favorite tonight. Freshly caught and breaded cod.” Robert grinned, and his eyes lit up. Miles, as were all employees of the S.S. Fairyweather, offered some of the fish they caught in addition to their salary, and fortunately for Robert, Miles was one hell of a cook. “But wait! That’s not all,” Miles added. ��I also made Spaghetti Alfredo with spinach, tomatoes, roasted red peppers, and asparagus,” he continued, seductively emphasizing every vegetable put into the pasta, much to Robert’s amusement. “Now what do you think,” he smirked.

Robert licked his lips. He was thinking quite a lot of things, both about the delicacies that were to be on his table and about the man who put them there.

If he keeps this up, I may just have to drag his ass to the bedroom before dinner is served.

Instead of verbalizing his answer, Robert opted to show it by immediately crashing their lips together. He didn’t understand how Miles did it, but he always managed to make Robert feel better during his worst days. Robert wanted to return that. He vowed that he would in many respects, over time, but right now, he could do so in a deep, fervent, and slightly rough kiss.

As they pulled back, Miles smirked at Robert.

“Am I the best husband or what?”

“Let’s just see if your bark is as good as your bite, love,” Robert playfully mocked as he led Miles by the stub into the kitchen.

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Robert swore that Miles should’ve become a chef.

He was honestly surprised he wasn’t the size of a bear, given how often he tore through his meals, tonight’s included.

One of these days, I’m going to sign him up for a cook-off.

The chef of the hour and Robert had finished Miles’ mouthwatering dinner, and as the last morsels of food on their plates began to digest, the couple turned their attention towards cleaning up the remnants. With not an ounce of salvageable sustenance left to put into Tupperware, Robert began handing Miles dishes, and Miles began to rinse and ready them for a trip into the dishwasher.

“Forgot to mention something earlier,” Miles said as he and Robert exchanged another plate. “Couple of the guys and I might grab a few pints at Granny’s next week for Halloween. Want in?”

Probably not the best idea, given that your friends hate me.

That will be a long project, even if Granny doesn’t hate me anymore.

Granny…

Granny’s.

Damn it.

Robert groaned. His last collection of the day had completely skipped his mind. Between thoughts of his son at the end of his workday, and Miles’ gestures as soon as he came home, he had completely forgotten about the rent that as still not in his grasp.

“You don’t have to come if you don’t want to,” Miles reassured, raising his soapy hand and brace-clad stub as to make a surrendering motion.

“No! It’s not that,” Robert quickly exclaimed, raising a hand of his own. “I forgot to pick up the rent from Granny’s. She was in the middle of her lunch rush when I passed by, so I decided to go later. I forgot to collect it before I came home.” Robert sighed. “I better take care of it now, otherwise I’m going to forget again. I’m sorry about leaving you with the clean-”

“Stop,” Miles interrupted. “No apologies needed, love. Go take care of it.” He began holding Robert’s chin with his hand, the same gentle, understanding smile on his face that could make anyone fall in love with him that he always had.

I still can’t believe out of everyone in this world, he chose me. 

Robert could feel his cheeks grow red, and Miles smirked knowingly. He distracted himself from the growing blush on his face by playfully trying to pull away from Miles. “Go away! You’re getting soap all over me,” he whined. Miles let him go, but not before snatching a tender kiss that made Robert’s heart jump with delight.

“I love you,” Robert breathlessly whispered before they drew away.

“I love you too,” Miles returned. Robert cleaned his face off, and made his way outside the house.

As he got into his car and drove towards Granny’s, his last exchange with Miles still fresh in his mind, Robert couldn’t stop smiling.

The town still couldn’t stand him. Even with a lot of effort on his part, Robert was aware that wasn’t going to change anytime soon. He still had pain, both physical and emotional that he would have to deal with on a regular basis. However, to a large extent, Robert couldn’t find it in himself to hate his circumstances, for he knew that at the end of the day, he had the man of his dreams waiting for him at home, and that was more than enough for him.

Problems aside, his life was truly charmed.

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A/N: Editing this chapter gave me a lot to think about. The first time that I wrote it, it simply established the kind of lives that Rumple and Killian’s cursed counterpart were living. That’s still true, don’t get me wrong, but what editing this chapter really had me do was to explore the town of Storybrooke and make it real. I liked that. I also received some writing advice that’s really going to shape how I write going forward.

I’d love to get some feedback, so please give me your thoughts! Otherwise, see you next chapter!