#you know he’d watch Wallace and Gromit

[gofancyninjaworld]

missed connections

h/t to Amni for saying something incredibly insightful:  ‘it’s sad that Saitama never gets to see Genos being badass and that Genos never gets to see Saitama enjoying new experiences.’

I’ll start with the end.  Saitama claims he’s dead inside, but sometimes, he does do new things and sometimes, even enjoys them.  It’s a pity Genos isn’t around to see Saitama whooping as he takes an impromptu roller coaster ride. 

On the other side, all the way back after the Hero Test, we saw Saitama walking home, musing amongst other things, on the classification Genos got. ‘Maybe Genos really is amazing...’   Saitama’s puzzlement that Genos was so highly thought of by the Hero Association is quite understandable to us.

To Saitama, Genos is the guy who picks unwise fights.  To his detriment.

He’s still picking unwise fights, as far as Saitama is concerned.  And still needs fishing out of trouble at times.

But we the readers know that Genos has made a lot of progress, only the story contrives to make sure that Saitama never sees it.   Somehow, Saitama only comes across Genos when the latter is worse for wear (granted, he doesn’t always need saving).   Other heroes have noticed too.  When Bang, who has known Genos since his first day working as a hero, asks Saitama for advice on how to raise disciples, it’s as much compliment as query.  If Saitama were not so distracted by his fruitless hunt for some scraps of meat, he’d have gone ‘Raise disciples? You mean like Genos?  I don’t know -- he’s got himself wrecked twice since yesterday!’ Because that’s all he’s seen.

 On one level, you could look at it as a more sadistic version of ‘Wallace and Gromit’ to name but one of the many stories where a competent subordinate works hard but things turn out so that their boss never actually notices that they’ve done anything.   However, it’s saved from comedy by two things.

1. There’s no nod to the audience.  If not outright a fourth wall breaking moment where the put upon sidekick  turns to the audience and winks, then we at least see them shrug or roll their eyes, and we laugh.  It’s okay.  For the characters within the story of OPM, no such relief to us is forthcoming: it’s all very serious for them.

2. There’s no status quo ante to be returned to.  The comedy comes from the fact that sidekicks work very hard only to have nothing appear out of the ordinary.   What qualifies as an ‘unwise fight’ for Genos has grown exponentially since the beginning of the series and continues to grow.   Saitama would be surprised to find out that his latter cleared the monster invasion of City C so fast that it astonished the HA dispatchers.  That he eliminated the Forest People invasion at City Y and rescued the heroes taken hostage without suffering a scratch.  That so far this current arc, he's been saving heroes like it's going out of fashion (how many more, we’ll have to see).

Specific to OPM, the tragedy of the situation is that Saitama would truly appreciate it if he knew what Genos was doing.  Saitama really appreciates and recognises sincere effort.  His exclamation of ‘nice fight’ to Mumen Rider is most famous, but also notable are the way he complimented Suiryu for holding out as long as he did and the way his attitude to Charanko did a 180 once he realised that Charanko had chosen to face Garou directly. 

had Sourface not been so outraged about being talked back to by a guy he used to bully, he’d have puzzled over why Charanko referred to himself in the third person

When Saitama worries to King that he doesn’t think that Genos can benefit from him, it’s because he literally hasn’t seen just how whole-heartedly Genos throws himself  or that he’s taken on board Saitama’s advice and is toughening himself up both mentally and physically.  Or how serious he is about translating Saitama’s ethos into action. In particular, when he decides to go help Tatsumaki after her own sister has refused to do so out of fear, it’s entirely what Saitama would have wanted to see.

“if the heroes run and hide, who will stay and fight?” Saitama’s saying is very easy to put on a poster, but far harder to do in reality.

Well, there is a bit of comedy. Once he noticed that Saitama wasn’t watching him, Genos went to fix it in the most direct way.  At the next suitable monster alert, he goes to find Saitama,  sets him right in front of the monsters,  no way he can miss seeing what his disciple is doing now.... and Saitama is distracted by Sonic.

yes, it does feel like there’s an evil god with your number some days.

And most importantly, it’s not used primarily as a comedic element because it has had, and is going to be having, consequences.   The first one is that Saitama honestly thinks he has a disciple in name only.   As he says to King, he doesn’t see how continuing to stick around  is helping Genos.

And as Saitama continues to come under more pressure from the increasing variety of people who’ve noticed him, one wonders if the role of playing teacher to an apparently unsuitable student might be one of the roles he looks to shed.

[lrugloyak]

Ben's uncle (i.e. another dream about a hot demon)

(Hi. If it’s your first time here, you can go HAHA. I’m not sure when I can focus back on my personal musings on here, but generally if you’re staying behind, I hope it’s for the memes. This is just a dream journal entry -- something I’d like to look back and laugh at in the future or, say, show to a therapist when I’ll need one lmao. Happy New Year!)

Like the actor who plays the old version of the lead guy in huling el bimbo; if not taller and darker but still theatre actor, basta real and dark like daveed but pinoy and no facial hair lmao

Ben's uncle drives me to school. Real school. With little Ben. Ben's uncle is wearing a black collared shirt with green double stripes.

I forget to bring socks and topple off the car with just slippers on and shoes in hand. He thinks I'm silly. I think he's hot. I tell myself I'll ask him out soon. I'm in high school.

I'm strangely waiting outside the lobby for class. It's afternoon. I go with Che to the gate bc I'm bored waiting. I trip over a few Christmas balls. When I get up, she's on the other side of the gate on some sort of fine ticking stuff off. I tell myself i can do that and reach for the pen. Ms. Joji is beside che with 2 familiar janitors from sisc. She politely chuckles to herself. I ask her why, and she tells me I'm kind but why care about this now. She touches my hand and carries on. I'm a bit disappointed.

It's nearly evening and i see ben's uncle's car roll around nearby but dismiss it. Bea v has a twin and draws in a small crowd of people as she loudly rants about her time at school, some story about being teased and embarrassed as she was called Bea Duh and V____. It seemed more like a pun that made sense in my dream. They were annoying but i had nothing against then so i just stayed behind the crowd and listened. They seemed like they just wanted people to listen and sympathize but it felt like a clout thing. The people seemed like they didn't like listening either but they were bored and liked being in the crowd. I giggled to myself while she was talking about something i wasn't listening to. All eyes turned to me. She asked if i had something to say. I saw ben's uncle's back from afar as he was rummaging through the back seat. I didn't think he saw me. I mindlessly started with my story about forgetting my shoes that morning and it was embarrassing. But i slipped with the fact that i wanted to ask ben's uncle out. I looked back at the crowd and saw their eyes light up. Someone asked me why. I said because he was hot. They ask laughed. I just said yeah he's hot! The crowd ate it up as i was pretending to be all the rage, making my story funnier and being more loose and confident with the way i moved. I didn't say it out loud, but thoughts of ben's uncle being attractive bc he was thoughtful, funny, kind and attentive were flooding my head. I look back at him and see he's staring right back at me with kind eyes and a wondering smile on his face. I laugh bc I'm having a good time with the crowd and i unknowingly proved a point to bea that you can turn embarrassing stories into good and still be in good company. Ben's uncle is by the gate. His elbow brushes past mine and we lock eyes. I asked if he heard all that. He asks what time my classes started and i realize oh yeah I've been waiting out here a bit alone for a class I'm not sure I'm having. We chuckle at the realization. He is admitted through sisc's electronic gate.

Search for the demon in a village that looks like manuela but with wider roads. Felt like the village in wallace and gromit. Forgot most of this part but it was heart racing and fun; i hate when i forget the adventure parts Couldn't capture the demon but found a book with some inscriptions. Had to go somewhere to find people who could help us. We were to go to a shack that same night.

I arrive with my friend to the shack. We find two guys in a room that looked a lot like lolas room now that i think about it. Guys are sleeping soundly in a bed. He tells me to take a nap first so i take a nap on a space on the right side of the bed, which was disappointing bc i wanted to help look for the demon. I am mostly asleep, but he didn't know i was still partly awake and listening and watching him decipher the book he just found. Guy in the middle wakes up and says demon is in the house, they just haven't found him yet. Informs they need to do a ritual to drive him out. They don't know how the ritual will go. They leave the room already chanting something foreign that doesn't seem to be working. I hear them enter the room beside this. September starts playing. They are chanting i think.

When the verse comes up, i hear one of them say it's not working. It was then when the legs of the guy on the left side of the bed started rising even though he was still asleep. He is wearing a grey tshirt. Hmm lol probs not important. The chorus comes and i hear the guys in the other room say that hey this isn't so bad; it's not working but they're not getting hurt from all the heavy chanting. Left side of the bed guy's arms were now rising too. "I'm not in my body" i hear the being on what looked like lolas computer chair in the shadows say. I understand he was driven out. That guy was ben's uncle. He tells me to go back to sleep. I smile and say no. So it's you, i think. He didn't have to answer. There was a bit of silence as September continued playing and the guys in the other room just sounded like they were dancing at this point.

I ask if he knew I wanted to ask him out when he passed me as he went to pick ben up from inside the school. He said yeah and smiled. I felt no shame. We both laughed. I was getting sleepier. I asked if he was the bad guy. He said yes even though I was hoping more that he'd say no. The info automatically popped in my head: he was called the necromancer. He asked why i asked, and i answered it was because nothing changed and i still wanted to go out with him. He considered it, i can feel it. He asked why, implying why i would want that knowing he's the demon, and i said bc he's hot. We both chuckled. He smiled again. Go to sleep he said, but i wouldn't budge. His human's legs and arms are still up. He won't keep his eyes off me. It seems more sincere. I'm not scared at all. Fuck, he's cute. He realizes he can't convince me. He walked over to my end of the bed and sat by my waist. We stare at each other for a bit and it feels like we've been talking for hours. I ask will you hold my hand and he takes it. His hand feels human. It even feels as nervous as one. I tell him everyone's capable of change. He looks at me with love in his eyes. The sound of September is drowned out by the feeling of time to rest your weary head clouding my senses. I don't want to wake up yet; i want to save him.

I wake up. I think there's been an earthquake.

I bite my lip.

Alright! So this was supposed to be a mind farts thing, which is why some sentences are less...sentence-like than others. Typed this out when I woke up at 5:48am. I was sad that I couldn’t get back to sleep bc I wanted to see Ben’s uncle again HAHAHAHA THE THIRST IS REAL and it’s so weird how I always just referred to him as Ben’s uncle and not??? a name?????

Okay, here are my notes possible factors:

• Gian Magdangal, but here in his role in AHEB and not anywhere else lol

I didn’t even feel the least attracted to him here; I’m not sure why Ben’s uncle took his form and why I was so eager to get in cahoots with him HAHAHAHA SORRY GIAN

• By “real school,” I mean my actual high school -- that part of the entrance was perfect in my head to the last detail. Little Ben, whoever the heck he is, was also wearing the grade school uniform. 

• The last I’ve heard from Che was from an instagram post for the holidays. I’m not sure why she got in here. 

• For the life of me, I don’t know what Ms. Joji and my school janitors represented. Maybe it’s my late feeling of detachment from being coined as a nice person. I can’t promise I’ll write about that here. 

• I don’t know why Bea V is here either huhu. Despite what it seems like, I hold no grudges (or any real personal connection) to her, at least to my knowledge

• The action sequence in Manuela probably comes from how I’ve been going there often for the holidays and truly wanted to stay longer that I did. 

• September??? My dad’s been playing songs of that era when his friends came around and when he’d have the hand at the Manuela get-togethers.

• The thirst? Yeah it comes with all the dreams now, it seems. Haha. Remember Suit Guy from the other dream? I’m convinced they’re the same character. After my closure with a real boy last month, I reverted back to talking to Angel. I don’t expect you to know who he is as I’ve never mentioned him officially in writing. It’s not like anyone’s going to read this anyway until I’m dead, but Angel’s been my imaginary friend for years. I’m not sure for how long, but perhaps it was since fallen angel tropes took over YA fiction (say, my 5th grade years?) or since I got into Supernatural. It comforts me to have a hot imaginary friend I can banter and actually fight with to talk to. I guess my fixation on tall mysterious guys (and after watching Daddy Long Legs din pala last night) just played into my metaphorical love for Angel.

[fandom-butterfly]

TV Meme

Tagged by @verecunda. Cheers, sis! :D

Pick 5 shows, then answer the following questions. Tag 10 (or however many) people.

1. Wallace & Gromit 2. Chernobyl (HBO miniseries) 3. Attack on Titan (Yes, I count animes as TV shows. Whatcha gonna do about it? ;P) 4. Ghosts (BBC series) 5. Yu-Gi-Oh!

Who is your favourite character in 2? Valery Legasov. Seriously, you can’t help but admire the guy, fearlessly putting himself in harm’s way just to discover the truth about the cause of the reactor’s explosion so he can save as many lives as he can, completely going against the paranoia and corruption of the Soviet government to try and get the truth. He willingly dealt with a lot of danger, both from the radiation and the constant surveillance from the KGB, with only one goal in mind; to save Europe. I don’t think many of us would be living today if not for his bravery and determination. Thank you so much, Comrade Legasov! You are a true hero! -salutes-

Who is your least favourite character in 1? Would probably have to say Piella. It’s heavily implied that she had abused Fluffles. Bad enough that she was a serial killer, but anyone who willingly tortures and torments their doggo is definitely beyond all redemption in my book! >:(

What is your favourite episode of 4?  TBH, kinda stuck between Happy Death Day and Moonah Ston, simply because of all the feels I get from Pat and Robin in their respective episodes. :,)

What is your favourite season of 5? I like Season 5 best. I know it’s badly animated compared to all the previous seasons, but I loved all those episodes back in ancient Egypt. :)

Who is your favourite couple in 3?  Well, apart from Levi/myself (Heehee… XD), the closest thing I have to an OTP in this anime is Ymir/Historia. So touching to see how they’re always there to support each other. Also, so cute how Ymir’s always so protective of Historia. I wish they could together. -sniff sniff-

Who is your favourite couple in 2?   Vasily and Lyudmilla Ignatenko. Their love story is probably one of the most heartbreakingly tragic ones I’ve ever seen. Though I wish she could’ve obeyed the doctors’ warnings of not to touch him, I can’t help but understand why she didn’t. That was her husband, who she loved after all. I’m so touched how Lyudmilla stuck by Vasily during his stay at Hospital No.6, taking care of him, even as he gradually deteriorated as he got weaker during his final weeks. During their last scene together, it’s impossible to be grossed out by how badly disfigured he’d become, you’re too busy breaking your heart over these two characters deeply in love spending what little time they have left together, as she still sticks by him through his agony. I think that’s when she tells him she’s pregnant too, the last happy news for him to receive before he passes. Vasily’s burial scene at the end of episode 3 is just too tragic for words. Lyudmilla’s face as her husband is bagged up, nailed into a wooden coffin, sealed inside a zinc sarcophagus which is then lowered into a ditch outside the cemetery, along with the other firemen who arrived at the reactor and received lethal doses of radiation, which is then filled with concrete. I just can’t even begin to imagine just how heartbreaking it must be to see the one you love being sealed up and permanently entombed like that, knowing that’s the last time you’ll ever see them, can’t even get a normal burial because their body is still dangerously radioactive. Then her baby had to go and die four hours after being born, due to the high levels of radiation she’d received from her dying husband. I mean, first your husband, now your baby too! No, that’s gotta be too much! Happily, despite being told by doctors she could never have another child, she now lives with her son in Kiev. So hopefully, despite her whole heartbreaking experience that was depicted in the show, she’s doing okay now.

What is your favourite episode of 1?        Kinda stuck between The Wrong Trousers and A Matter of Loaf and Death. Trousers, purely for nostalgia as that was the one I’d always watch as a toddler and Loaf and Death for Gromit/Fluffles OTP feels. X3

What is your favourite episode of 5?    Waaaaayyyyy too many to choose from. XD

What is your favourite season of 2? There is only one season. :P

How long have you watched 1?    Since I was born practically. :D

How did you become interested in 3?   I saw WatchMojo’s “Top 10 Saddest Anime Deaths” video on YouTube, which included the death of Carla Jeager in the very first episode, being eaten by a Titan as her son, Eren (the main character) helplessly watches while being carried away to safety. That scene gave me some serious chills, so I guess you could say it was a morbid fascination for me. Then as I watched it, I became engrossed in the story and always loved watching the adrenaline-pumping scenes of our main characters fighting Titans, even though such battles could get jaw-droopingly violent and depressingly tragic at times. These days, I just watch it for the sheer love of seeing the smexy badass that is Levi Ackerman. XD

Who is your favourite actor in 4?  The whole cast. XD

Which do you prefer, 1, 2, or 5?  …No, that’s too hard. They’re all such different shows.

Which show have you seen more episodes of, 1 or 3?  Attack on Titan, simply because that has more episodes than Wallace and Gromit. ;P

If you could be anyone from 4, who would you be? Funnily enough, I actually had a dream once were I could see and speak to all the ghosts in that show, just like Alison could. XD

Would a crossover between 3 and 4 work?  Um… no. XD

Pair two characters in 1 who would make an unlikely but strangely okay couple?  Um… I dunno. Possibly Piella Bakewell and Victor Quartermaine? Maybe they could pair up through their shared hatred for Wallace? I dunno. They’re both scumbags, so… X

Overall, which show has the better storyline, 3 or 5?  I’d probably have to say Attack on Titan. Sorry YGO, but you simply cannot beat a story in which our characters have to learn to fight to survive and protect their loved ones in a dystopian fantasy world.

Which has better theme music, 2 or 4?  Chernobyl doesn’t really have a theme tune to speak of. Ghosts, however, has a very cool myserteous and gothic vibe to its opening theme. Does that answer your question for you. ;P

I tag: IDC, whoever wants to do this. XD

[eene-fangirl]

May’s Visit (An Ed, Edd n Eddy/Wallace and Gromit Crossover)

Note: This is another crossover of Ed, Edd n Eddy and Wallace and Gromit the Curse of the Were-Rabbit. This is based on the scene where Lady Tottington visits Wallace when the moon appears. 

From upstairs, Ed answered the door. “May! This is a surprise! How may I help you?” Edd and Eddy heard Ed greet excitedly from upstairs.

“May? What is she doin’ here?” Eddy grabbed at his hair in frustration. They didn’t have time for distraction. They’d already had enough today.

Edd grasped his bunny ears, anxiously. “She can’t see me!”

“Duh!”

“Wait, maybe she is only here for Ed!” Edd suggested.

“If she was here for Ed then she would’a gone to his place!” Eddy reminded him. Clearly, Edd’s bunny brain affected Edd’s Einstien super intelligence. 

Edd’s eyes dipped guiltily to the floor. Perhaps that was the wrong tone of voice to speak to him. “Oh, you’re right.”

Just then, Ed opened the door to the basement, immediately alerting the two Eds.

“May wants to talk to us all,” Ed said to them, frowning. Obviously, the news didn’t sound good. 

“But how do I conceal these bunny ears?” Eddy grasped the furry ears in a panic. 

Looking around the basement, Eddy again whacked himself upside the head. Clearly, they weren’t all Einsteins. 

“Stuff ‘em inside your hat!” Eddy suggested already going to work. Edd briefly struggled but eventually let Eddy take care of him.

“What do you think, Ed?” Eddy asked holding a finger to his mouth.

Edd couldn’t see how funny his hat was from his friends’ perspective. With his large furry rabbit ears stuffed inside his hat, it looked like a beehive. 

Ed snapped his finger and stuffed a winter hat over Edd’s head. “If May asks just tell her you were cold!”

Anything was better than the rabbit ears. Collecting himself, Edd went to greet May. Even though the front door was left open, May didn’t come inside, remaining outside. She only briefly stared at Edd’s winter hat but clearly, that was not her worries. Edd’s smile immediately vanished when he noticed the pain lurking in May’s eyes. 

“Hello, May! Happy Birthday!” Edd beamed trying to make the girl smile, to no avail. “Oh dear, has the town changed their mind on giving you permission to let you use the mansion grounds for your party?”

May shook her head. “No, it’s not that. I’m still having my party and the vegetable competition at the Peach Creek mansion, but... you guys sorta let me down,” May’s voice cracked, unable to look the three boys in the eyes.

The Eds looked at one another, an obvious knowing.

Ed touched May’s shoulder. “I suppose we have, bunny.”

May looked into Ed’s eyes. “Did you lie that you had the beast locked up?”

“Uh... well, no, we didn’t lie, if you would say, we may have fibbed... but uh...” Ed struggled to find an answer. He even looked at Edd who was very swimming in his own shame. 

When they were at the emergency town meeting at the church only a couple of days ago, Ed would not have it when the mayor proclaimed that he’d have to cancel all evening activities, including May’s plans for her birthday, just for safety precautions. After Ed announced that he and his friends would catch the were-rabbit, that was the moment Ed and May shared their first kiss. 

Tears crept into May’s eyes. “The mayor stopped by as we were decorating today, along with the entire town, and he said that the beast made another attack last night!” May stared at Eddy. “Eddy, your brother is going to kill the were-rabbit!”

Edd’s entire face paled. Immediately, Eddy placed his hand on Edd’s back for support. “What?”

“He showed up! And the mayor asked him...”

“And he said yes?!” Eddy asked in disbelief. He still kept a close watch on Edd who was horrible pale in his silence. How could he forget about his brother? Yes, his brother was there when he and Ed witnessed their dear friend transform into the beast, but he thought his brother was unconscious. Just showed what he knew!

Tears dripped from May’s eyes. “No, he asked me! I’m sorry! I didn’t have much of a choice! I’ve never had this opportunity and I...”

Suddenly, the winter hat started rising on Edd’s head. Grasping it, Edd just had time to look into the sky to witness the full moon appearing from behind the clouds. 

Eddy snapped the winter hat below his chin but he knew it wouldn’t do much in the end. Noticing, Ed closed the door only a bit as May kept on talking. She was so distracted that she didn’t even notice Edd’s hand turn into a pair of furry rabbit paws!

“Oh, dear!” Edd’s voice panicked.

“Come on, hurry!” Eddy whispered in desperation. Could they run into the kitchen?

“... The decision was so difficult, Ed,” she looked up at the panic-stricken young man who could barely look her in the eyes. “I liked you, Ed. I thought you would never lie to me!”

Now, Edd’s feet ripped right through his favorite shoes, huge and furry rabbit feet!

“Eddy!”

“Ed, get rid of her!” Eddy whispered in a loud voice over to Ed.

“Oh, well bye then!” Ed was hardly paying attention, just closing the door in May’s face. Then May reached out stopping the door. 

“Wait, Ed! I’m not finished! I have more to tell you! And I have a question for Double Dee!” She was trying to turn her neck to look around the door. Luckily, she didn't notice the strange whimpers and whispers coming from Edd and Eddy. There was no way they could run into the kitchen without being seen.

“I-I’m unable to talk now, May!” Edd struggled to speak as his teeth turned into the large buckteeth of the were-rabbit. It hurt. But he didn’t want to alert anyone.

Sweat poured off Ed’s face. He knew that he was going to regret this but he had to get rid of May. “We could really use some time to ourselves, May! BYE!” And he shoved the door right in her face. “Thanks for coming!” he called through the cracks of the door.

The young woman stared aghast at what just happened. Was that it? Maybe Ed wasn’t who she thought he was. Once again, her sisters were. What was she? Stupid? Oh, this was turning out to be the worst birthday ever! 

Just then May was alerted by a smash from inside Edd’s house. And the Eds were shouting things she couldn’t make out. It sounded like they were in trouble.

Turning back to the house, suddenly Edd’s face smashed against the window. He spat a raspberry at her. Right when that happened Ed and Eddy pulled him away and closed the drapes. 

Shocked, May broke down into tears. She ran, sobbing down the streets of the neighborhood.

Stepping out from the shadows, Bro prepared his gun, sneering a horrid smile at Edd’s house.

Inside, Edd was in midst of a panic attack, howling in pain. It was happening. His voice was going to leave. His mind was going to erase into the muddled mind of the rabbit and there was nothing he could do. But maybe he could fight it, as Eddy told him.

Ed and Eddy took cover by the doorway, watching in pure horror. No, he didn’t want his own friends to fear him!

“You two have to help me!” He dived at Eddy, pinning him against the door. “Please, Eddy! Hide me!”

What if this was his final night alive? Would he ever get the chance to tell Eddy the feelings that he’d longed for so long? And he had a feeling that Eddy did, too.

“Eddy, I l-”

That was when his voice cut off. He fell to the floor, the transformation now taking over, the hair growing all over his body, until he was enlarging, stretching out from his clothes. 

That was when Ed and Eddy took both ends of the carpet and heaved him through the kitchen to the back door.

But it was too late.

Edd was now the were-rabbit.

And someone was stomping their boot against the front door.

[picturesinlove]

LIFE’S TOO LONG: the hour film club

PUBLISHED as part of the Chelsea College of Arts Publication Vol. 1

sometimes, when you come home after a day's work, by the time you’ve cooked, eaten, washed up, had a shower, cried; before you know it, the top corner of the screen says ‘00:34′. you don’t wanna’ watch a three hour black and white existential film in a foreign language.... you only wanna’ watch a ONE HOUR black and white existential film in a foreign language!! be asleep by 01:30... welcome to the hour film club.

here’s my list of recommendations, one for every day of the week (and *SPOILERS* no, i’m afraid it doesn’t include any episodes of fucking black mirror) 

DEKALOG: ONE (1988) directed by Krzysztof Kieślowski, 53 mins

the first in a monumental ten-part anthology series based on the 10 commandments, set in a polish highrise, each telling the story of a different resident. every one of these hour stories is genius- the most human films you will ever see. the first is my favourite.

the quintessential hour-long film. poetic without being indulgent, explicit without being gratuitous, simple without being dull. a raw, moral graininess reflected in the film stock and harsh winter sun streaming through windows, clashing against the skin of our 2 main characters- genius lecturer Krzysztof and his 12-year-old son Paweł.

death, the nature of technology, banal proof of science vs blind faith in religion, growing up, that feeling of bitter, bitter icy cold freezing the tip of your nose, hilarity, despair, heartbreak, joy, deep allegorical imagery open to interpretation and the cutest freaking stuffed elephant ever... all packed into an hour. man this will break you.

‘EPISODE 8’ - TWIN PEAKS: THE RETURN (2017) directed by David Lynch, 58 mins

the original series of Twin Peaks that aired in the early 90s is often cited as birthing ‘prestige’ television as we know it today- your Game of Thrones ’, HBO quality, Netflix. .. 25 years later, David Lynch and Mark Frost have returned to kill it.

probably the closest we’ll ever get to seeing a ‘fine art film’ put out to a mainstream audience. the most discussed hour of moving image in a long time. earth-shattering. groundbreaking. part 8 of the new series of Twin Peaks is untampered ‘pure heroin Lynch’. a story that stands on its

own without any knowledge of the series/what’s come before necessary. pandora’s box is opened. a symphonic meditation on human’s capacity to create tools of evil, and how good can can fight it. mostly black and white, mostly speechless with predictably perfected sound design. utterly mesmerising and terrifying in equal measure.

p.s. always remember, david lynch pales in comparison when held up against most surrealists because he isn’t *really* a surrealist. he just follows his own logic.

THE MASS OF MEN (2012) directed by Gabriel Gauchet, 17 mins

David Fincher called The Mass of Men the best short film he’d ever seen. it will rattle you to the core. an unemployed man arrives 3 minutes late for his appointment at the job centre. kafkaesque levels of bureaucracy that pile on top of eachother. a system where the rules are determined to humiliate people in their most desperate times. a viewing experience like being forced to try stick frayed thread through a needle... then abruptly having your hand cut off.

THE WRONG TROUSERS (1993) directed by Nick Park, 30 mins

something in the fabric of all aardman animation’s plasticine stop-motion is deeply sinister, uncanny and damn creepy... yet so human, warm and beautiful. cheerful yorkshire inventor Wallace & his highly intelligent dog Gromit’s second outing is genuinely one of the best directed 30 minutes ever put to film. a deceptively easy watch for something so complex and layered. most big hollywood blockbuster directors, with millions of dollars at their disposal, can only dream of creating a chase sequence as much of a spectacle, as thrilling, packed with details, engrained in character, with as impeccable sound design rooted in rhythm, and as much honest fun as the finale of The Wrong Trousers.

THE CABINET OF DR. CALIGARI (1920) directed by Robert Wiene, 74 mins

the godfather of horror cinema. the height of german expressionism. prime inspiration for hip 14

year old’s tumblrs. the carnival is in town.

a hellish smouldering world of black of white, thick eyeliner, wide eyes, strong movements to match the static shadows painted onto the sharp, angled buildings the characters manoeuvre through. the town seems infected by the evil of dr. caligari and his pet.

PICKPOCKET (1959) directed by Robert Bresson, 75 mins

few compose movement like bresson. a ballet of mundane grey suits and stuffy leather wallets.

there’s a reason he called his performers ‘models’ instead of ‘actors’. 

TOWER (2016) directed by Keith Maitland, 82 mins

ok i know i’m bending the rules slighhhtly length wise, but trust me this is worth it. a documentary combining archival footage, talking head interviews and bright technicolour rotoscope animation to tell the story of america’s first mass school shooting in 1966, all from the perspective of the survivors.

‘the worst in one person brought out the best in so many others.’ out of so much pain comes so much humanity and beauty. in the most extreme situations, you never really know how you’ll react.

[rallamajoop]

The Great Escape Attempt

Chances are, if you know anything about The Great Escape, you know that it features a scene where someone ramps a motorbike over a prison camp fence. It’s one of those scenes that’s been so relentlessly pastisched and parodied that you'd probably recognise the references even if you couldn’t name the film – an iconic image of Hollywood spectacle, as man and machine go flying over our heads to freedom.

That someone was going to vault a motorbike over a fence at some point was one of few things I knew about this movie going in.

Now, scenes like this do tend to grow in the re-telling, but I would not have guessed just how exaggerated the parodies would prove to be. To begin with, we aren’t jumping the prison fence itself – the prison break itself is about a third of the runtime behind us, so instead we’re making do with some random border fence in Nazi territory, as Steve McQueen flees the pursuing Nazis. For another thing, the fence he jumps is actually only the first and much lower of two fences.

And having jumped that fence, he almost immediately runs head-first into the second one.

From this dignified position, he’s recaptured and taken back to prison, there to spend the rest of the war.

It’s still a reasonably cool stunt and all, but blink, and you could miss this ‘iconic’ scene altogether – the camerawork doesn’t remotely frame it as the epic moment it would become in reproduction (and given what follows, you can see why not). It’s more like watching a fleeing animal tangle itself in a hedge than a great leap for freedom. It’s odd to find myself thinking, “well, okay, but it was cooler when the team behind Wallace and Gromit did it with the chickens.”

I open with this particular impression not simply for effect, but because this sort of anti-climax was typical of the my overall experience with the movie. If you asked me to summarise the film in a few words, they might be, escape was not actually as great as advertised. Remember this, we’ll come back to it.

Summarising the film in more detail requires some background context. The Great Escape is, for the completely uninitiated, a film based on a real, historical breakout of (primarily) British troops interred in a Nazi prison camp during World War II. Opening cards assure us that though liberties have been taken with some of the personalities involved, all the details of the actual escape are as truly took place.

My own interest in the film was twofold – for one, as covered above, this is one of those films which has been so relentlessly referenced in popular culture since its release that I was curious about the original, and the fact that my own family history intersects with the British war effort (both my paternal grandparents were in the RAF) adds some minor personal interest in the topic. For another, and probably the more obvious point, this film features David McCallum, and since I’d already given one of Vaughn’s pre-UNCLE films a try, this seemed the logical follow-up.

Actually, there are additional parallels between The Great Escape and The Magnificent Seven, as their large ensemble casts both featured Steve McQueen, Charles Bronson and James Coburn among the more prominent credits – or, to put it another way, both featured That One Skinny Blonde Dude From M7, One Of Those Two Brown Haired Dudes from M7, and That Other Skinny Blonde Dude From M7 Who I Kept Confusing With Steve McQueen. Believe me, when you’ve already spent one movie trying to figure out which of the two skinny blonde dudes in cowboy hats is Steve McQueen, having both of them show up in a second movie with an even bigger cast does not help (that both had American accents in a cast of English accents did not help either), and round 2 of Is That Steve McQueen? quickly ensued. Having now spent two different movies on this same problem, I think I can definitively state that I Do Not Get the hype about Steve McQueen. He is generic as fuck.

I would like to say that the rest of the cast was more distinctive, but I’d be lying. The trouble with large ensembles of white dudes with generic faces and hair is that, well, just look at these people. Richard Attenborough was consistently recognisable, as was the one bald dude and the one with the mustache, but few others really stayed with me, and keeping track of who was who and who did what was a genuine chore. It’s not even that they were all generically hot, as they’d probably be were the movie made today – in a cast stuffed to the gills with healthy young men of enlistment age, David McCallum remains the only notable eye-candy on screen, and he did not have enough scenes.

In fairness, though, this isn’t a movie about characters nearly so much as it exists to chronicle an event, and the scenes where the escape plan gradually comes together were the film’s best. Next to zero time is wasted on getting to know one another or formulating their plans: the Nazis have opted to deal with their most troublesome prisoners by chucking every member of a seasoned team of British escape artists in the one place, and thus most everyone knows one another from the get-go. ‘Big X’ outlines the plan to dig their way out of the camp in one of the earliest scenes, gives everyone their job, and they all go to it. Men are assigned to dig, to dispose of the dirt, to scrounge materials, to keep watch, to forge documents and even to make clothes to help escapees to blend into the populace after making it out. There are setbacks and missteps, but the majority of the action is rather like watching an episode of Hustle or Mission Impossible – sit back and enjoy, knowing the heist is in good hands.

At the same time – and for all the perfectly valid commentary about Steve McQueen being shoehorned into the action for the benefit of the American market – he and his countrymen did add a valuable (though never over-dramatised) element of culture clash. He’s the outsider, who initially has his own plans, who only gets drawn into the plan as an early attempt is foiled and the tension mounts. Perfectly valid narrative device, no matter how little he may have done for me as a character.

No, the major problem with the film arrives only later, as the escape takes place. Now, up until this point, my major problem with the film had been that the whole notion of the escape plan seemed a bit of a jolly jape to the men enacting it. As far as Nazi camps go, it goes without saying that these folks have it insultingly good. Most have multiple previous escape attempts to their names, after which they’d all been rounded up and politely brought back to prison. Early in the film, an exasperated Nazi Colonel implores the ranking British officer to have his men give it up, so that “we may all sit out the war as comfortably as possible,” to which he receives the brazen reply, “it is the sworn duty of all officers to try to escape.” Now, it’s fair to say that no-one wants to be a prisoner of the Nazis as the war wraps up, for all sorts of good reasons. But the impetus behind the escape is certainly not survival, but explicitly, “to start another front, to foul up the Germans behind the lines.” To achieve this, they plan not simply to escape, but to escape in unprecedented numbers – to free a full 200 men and set them loose in occupied territory, to tie up as many Nazi resources as possible. This goal is as explicit as can be: it’s in the trailer, it’s the carrot they use to get Steve McQueen on-board, etc. It’s the rallying cry behind the movie.

On the night of the escape, however, one thing began to bug me, as with every man in the camp outfitted with new clothes and papers, waiting for his turn to make the dash, it became apparent that the diggers were only now closing the final distance to open the exit into the fresh air. I’m no expert here, but it struck me as extraordinarily bad planning not to at least have had someone stick their head out the night before to confirm, eg. that they hadn’t brought themselves up under a boulder or a bee hive, or the border guard’s favourite tree for a discrete piss in between their rounds, etc. The counter-argument, presumably, was that every single day they waited was a day where the tunnel might be found and the whole thing foiled. But when one has just spent several minutes thinking, “gosh, they’re going to feel like right twits if it turns out they’ve misjudged the distance and come up short or something,” it’s a bit hard to feel as sympathetic as one should when that’s exactly what they did.

This is all, for the record, historically accurate – only a mere 75 of the 200 men would make it out through the botched tunnel before they were seen and the alarm raised. With months of careful planning, outfitting 200 men to blend in in Nazi territory – even going so far as to have one man stage a solo escape attempt and then deliberately get recaptured after he’d had a chance to get the lay of the land – the one thing the conspirators didn’t do was stop to say, “do you think maybe we’ve misjudged the distance to the trees, given that we’re basically guessing? Shouldn’t we have someone stick his head out of the tunnel just to double check before we commit?” Perhaps this all made far more sense from the inside, but the film didn’t especially sell it, and that’s disappointing.

The greater disappointment, however, was that after this great failure, the film shrugs, and goes on to follow the various escapees as they mostly sort of drift around occupied territory for a full additional third of the film’s runtime before most are recaptured, and at last summarily executed. This could, with a few tweaks, have easily been a clever subversion – the kind of tragic disappointment on which the reality of war is built – but as filmed, the framing carries surprisingly little narrative weight. The magnitude of their failure to free the full 200 prisoners or create the new front they’d planned is never really dwelt upon. There are no bold new plans to make the best of their options with their limited numbers, no revised strategy to prioritise survival – what any of them are actually trying to do beyond ‘not get captured’ is quite ambiguous. And thus the conclusion is not a tragedy, but a prolonged anticlimax. When the Nazis finally have almost everyone but Steve McQueen shot, all I could really think was, “yeah, can’t especially blame them at this point.” I mean, they should’ve shot Steve McQueen too, but that’s beside the point.

Ultimately, The Great Escape is neither awesomely epic nor soberingly tragic. It’s merely a moderately authentic recreation of a one of the most meticulously planned fuck-ups in POW history, and it doesn’t even seem to know how it feels about it.

In conclusion, my advice to you all is not to bother with The Great Escape (Attempt). If you want a truly magnificent WWII escape story, then I’d suggest instead you look up the 1943 uprising and escape from Sobibór – the 2014 documentary Escape From a Nazi Death Camp gives an excellent overview, and you can probably find a copy online fairly easily (it may even be available on Netflix in some regions). Sobibór, for the record, was a genuine concentration camp – the prisoners were primarily Polish Jews, kept alive only to do the horrific work of stripping and incinerating the bodies of their fellows – and yet so many of the facts of the escape are just about pure Hollywood.

There’s a portent of doom, when a note in the pocket of a gas chamber victim brings a warning that the Nazis are beginning to shut down their own camps, and that Sobibór may be next in line. There’s culture clash, as the original population ally themselves with a small group of newly transferred Russian soldiers, only lately added to their numbers. There’s a daring, meticulously-organised escape plan led by a tall, young, hot Russian officer (Lieutenant Alexander Pechersky), with the gall to give inspirational speeches at key moments, and even live to carve the name of the camp on the wall of a building in Berlin. There’s even some romance – two of the prisoners met in the camp, fell in love, and lived to escape together.

But most important of all, there’s the success – around 200 of the prisoners made it out, and almost 50 of the escapees would be still free to see peace come again, putting the very modest 2 surviving escapees of “The Great Escape” to shame. Seriously, look it up – it’s got the material The Great Escape was based on beat on every possible front, and it doesn’t shy away from the true horror evoked by the words ‘Nazi’ and ‘camp’ in combination.

Alternately, look up the escape from Treblinka, another Nazi extermination camp in Poland, where prisoners broke into the armoury, set fuel stores on fire and burst out amid a hail of gunfire. Nearly 70 of those who escaped lived beyond the end of the war too.

What do stories like these lack? English-speakers, presumably. No British prisoners, no Steve McQueen, no Hollywood deal. End of story. Sobibór got one British made-for-TV movie, but that seems to be about the limit of the interest in dramatising this sort of material in the Anglophone world.

Anti-climax indeed.

[brokenmusicboxwolfe]

On a post where I talked about my nephew (and the difficulties with my brother)

runningbarefootthroughtheforest said: No ideas, just wanted to say Im glad your nephew has someone like you in his life, even if you are ‘banned’ from him. It sounds like you bring sunshine to his life, and even if thats a rare occurence it may make a world of difference to him <3

Thanks for being so kind. 

I wasn’t planning to really reply (thought I REALLY appreciated hearing that), but I was in a mood tonight. I got started writing, and now it’s 2am and I’ve got this endless rambling about my relationship with my brother no one in their right mind wants to hear about. Rather than erase all that typing (and venting) I’m just going to put it safely behind a click to continue....l

Being there for him used to be one of the ways I would make myself go to my brother’s when I knew what was in store for me there. (The other was to help my parents with that construction job building the extension to my brother’s house.) I had my nephew described as “lighting up like a Christmas tree” when I showed up and that he seemed so much more engaged when I was there. I dunno how much I credit that to me, but I did feel like it was worth enduring a heavy dose of verbal abuse. 

The thing is, it has been so long since I have been able to see him I expect he has forgotten me now. I got to see him for a minute over a year ago when took Mom half way to spend time recovering from her hospitalization at their house (I’ve mentioned our living conditions...). He didn’t show any signs of recognition anymore. Yesterday Mom called me while my sister-in-law was out (Mom won’t call me when they are around to avoid ranting) and I could hear my nephew talking to himself as he played, his voice like a little bird chirping. I realized that I have never actually heard him speak in person because he was a totally non-verbal then. I’m afraid as far as he is concerned I don’t exist.

I know people wonder why I was banned from my brother’s house. “what did you do?” Saying, well the first time I was told never to come back I played a Wallace and Gromit DVD. It was so baffling how me playing it in a room alone could get him shouting I was “the most selfish bitch alive” for my choice of DVD, but there you go.

A few months later I did start going back, but that time I tried to photograph my parents beside the house extension we were putting in, and my brother thought I wastaking a photo of him andmy nephew. He hates photos being taken and threatened to smash my camera, started with the insults, called me a coward when I went into the house to get away from him rather than fight, then mocked me when I came  back out rather than wake my napping sister-in-law. I started crying (trying soooo hard not to) and he lay into me for that. I always told my parents not to defend me since it would reinforce my brother’s peculiar “you love her more” narrative and it would make him more vicious, but it made me feel extra alone as he was attacking me, all in my face and snarling like he would get. I muttered “Sometimes I could just  kill you” which was NOT meant as a real threat at all, and he knew that very well. Still he announced I was to leave or he would call the police and he could say I threatened his life.

And that was that. At first My parents and I thought it would blow over. It didn’t. We thought holidays would be an exception. They weren’t. We thought when Pop got sick he would relax about it. Nope. So that’s been that.

The thing is, it shouldn’t be a surprise. For years he’d been saying he loved Mom, loved but also hated Pop, and just hated me. I think partly Pop and are were disappointments to him, like we should be whatever fantasy he had of what we should be and if only he could bully us right we’d change. Pop and I did tend to think alive, where Mom and my brother thought a bit more alike, the basic mental wiring. But it was a way of seeing us, Mom the one who sacrificed (like about getting a PhD) to join Pop here, Pop the person working so many ambitious projects (like the submarine or the journey round the world in the boat) that never actually were finished, and me the smart sister turned utter loser (and college drop out to his multiple degrees). I knew he hated me, and maybe he was right to at least have no respect for such a pathetic creature, but I somehow had managed to believe that down deep he loved me.

You know, when he was a teenager he pointed a loaded gun to my head saying he was going to kill me, and I was totally calm about it. Part of it was the adrenaline, but part of it was a trust that while he was emotionally freaking out and might accidentally kill me, he did not really want me dead. Would I be so fearless now when I no longer trust his love is in there somewhere waiting to be talked down? I dunno.

Now, for the record, my family was NOT physically or emotionally abusive. Heck, my parents never even spanked us. We were never grounded, given time outs or bullied. While my father would break things when really upset, he NEVER, EVER hurt anyone or threatened to hurt anyone. My parents were  confused how sibling rivalry and child defiance of a father could become so monsterous. They wondered what they did wrong. The thing is, it really wasn’t entirely some failing in out part.

Amazingly my brother was an incredibly sweet child. He constantly told us he loved us, gave us drawings he made and wrote “I love you” on, hugged us, kissed us, laughed and ...  He was exactly the opposite of what he is now.

I can track it, the step by step path that led to this point.

It begins at school. When he entered first grade to be precise.

In first grade my brother got good grades, despite my parents questioning whether he was having difficulty reading. The teacher would reassure them that he was doing just fine....and then he failed first grade. When my parents wanted to know what had happened, the teacher said my brother had seemed so smart she had assumed it would work out. **sigh**

So my parents did what you would expect. They started working with my brother. They had always read to us (and I read as long as can remember) but now they started using work books, flashcards, and anything else that they thought might help. To my brother this was like being punished while I was off doing other things, and how he felt about me began to change.

Now I get this bothering him. I was bothered too. I knew my brother needed help, but I also knew they were spending all this time with him but so little with me. No one helped me with my homework, because I didn’t need it. I was “fine”, I was always “fine”. Where as my brother as a toddler would try to run (and made it once!) across highway 64 with all it’s traffic, laughing as we chased him, toddler me (when I couldn’t find my father and grandfather who were working and supposed to be watching me...the place it big) decided to walk home and famously was spotted by people carefully crossing that crazy busy highway and walking back along the side of the road. I was seen as gaving good judgement, bright, blah, blapg. Stephanie is always “fine”. 

The difference is that while I saw the attention my brother got when no one even cared what I did in school, (they even let me sign my own papers because they were busy and knew I was doing fine...I HATE that word fine!) and was unhappy, I didn’t get angry at anyone. I understood, and other than a few bouts of grumpiness at my parents wishing that they would pay atrention to me a bit. But to my brother it was different. He was angry, and most of that anger settled on me because I was “fine”, a sort of feeling he had that I must be loved more since I wasn’t the one suffering.

Then it got worse.

His second grade teacher was horrible to him. She picked on him and bullied him continually. In front of the whole damn class she would called him stupid and mock him. He was NOT stupid! He was dyslexic!

My parents had to work to persuade then to have him tested. This was not even on the radar of out hick town school in the early 1980s. They had to bring someone in to test him, and when it proved the suspicions it proved no help at all. See, the teachers had never heard of such a thing, so to them “dyslexic” meant “stupid”.   They considered kids “normal”, “smart”, or “stupid” with no nuisance at all. And that damn teacher kept at it, more intently than ever.

Worse for my relationship to him, the teacher and her aide had another angle of attack. “He’s not smart like his sister!” Do you know how horrible that is, constantly comparing a kid to another kid? In first grade my tracher had started that, telling the class “Why can’t you all be like Stephanie?” “You should try to be smart like Stephanie” Do you know what that does? It does NOT make the kids you want to change change, instead they glare at that kid you are comparing them to with pure hate. And now the little brother that had loved me, was being bludgeoned with me as a weapon. 

He didn’t tell us any of this at the time. He was far too scared of her. It slipped out bit by bit over then next few years.

One day he hid to try to avoid going to class. I found him and talked to him, trying to be reassuring and comforting. You see, I was having an awful time in school, being bullied every day. I thought, three years older than him, I understood and I was being encouraging when I was saying if I could do it I knew he could. And then I told Pop where he was.

My brother still brings this up as a huge betrayal. It is one of the worst things I ever did to him, though I did it out of love and ignorance.

So it began. My brother’s resentment and hostility. A bubbling rage began to build. He started seeing as opposite, if something was tough for him he would insist it was easy for me. To this day he insists I was popular and happy in school! It’s nuts. Mom laughs at the thought. In that one year in kindergarden I went from so outgoing I spoke to anyone to so introverted I couldn’t make eye contact or order in a restaurant. I went from normal weight to the fattest kid in the class, for the first time in my life started wetting the bed, began to jump at the sounds like someone with PTSD, and would come home crying, begging my parents to tell me why everyone hated me. I was picked on for everything including my breathing! But he didn’t remember preschool me so he didn’t know I’d changed, and he was so lost in his own pain he couldn’t see mine.

And it went like this. Now I am NOT minimizing what he went through. While I had many teachers that openly delighted whenerever I made a mistake and, bafflingly, saw me as some sort of threat, clearly what he went through with that teacher was worse.

Let me be clear again, my brother was NOT stupid! He was one of the top five students by graduation, in college he studied chemistry where he was the only undergraduate working on a project, one a national prize, and after getting his degree went right back to get a degree in computer programming. He could very well be smarter than me!

But elementary and high school were hell. For both of us, to be honest, we just manifested it differently.

 I can only imagine the constant “she’s smart, you’re not” pressure he was under. I know even as an adult his default when upset was to call himself “Stupid!” “Idiot!” Or “Moron!” No matter how often my parents and I tried to tell him otherwise, he never believed us. He was constantly tense and chewed his fingers until they bled. And behind his eyes you could see the pain and rage. He got so he would not want anyone to see him show emotions, even taking his gifts at Christmas into his room to open. He got aggressive and growly, not just in a teen boy way. He would let anyone hug him anymore, not even Mom. We wanted to hug him, we knew he needed a hug, even wanted a hug, but if you tried he’d slug you and leave a bruise. 

With me his aggression just got worse. Violent, not just slugging. Not when our parents were around, of course. Then it was just verbal.  He was disgusted by me. I’d become withdrawn more, fatter, and, as I used to say, “terminally insecure”. Maybe he couldn’t stand my increasing loser status because if I was supposed to “better” than him according to the teachers, then how terrible must he be? He needed me to be better than Inwas, just as he always blamed our parents a bit for not saving him from that teacher, despite the fact they hadn’t known at the time what was going on.

One quick point: what happened to my brother inspired Pop to run for school board right after that. He thought it was the best way to help both my brother and others like him. I think the last straw was seeing that abusive teacher won “teacher of the year” the next year. When Pop asked why they said it was because they were all sorry for her  because just before the vote she has a baby that was born with a serious birth defect. Sympathy is one thing, but “teacher of the year” for a woman that tormented my brother and changed him so completely? In one year he went from loving me to hating me, smiling to scowling, not questioning his own intelligence to never believing in it! So Pop went to the school board, became chairman, and what to you know, the way they treated my brother turned around over night (though how he felt didn’t)! But what about other kids without elected parents?

Anyway, the school years were not happy. Add my brother’s tendency to hold grudges and to lash out when hurt to the target painted on my back by the big mouthed teachers and I became his verbal, and sometimes physical, punching bag. Our parents would be working and he would go into jerk mode. Locking himself in my room to trash it. Calling me the most hurtful things he could. There are still holes in my door from a sword. (Yes, sword. We have a few...) When he would start getting rough I’d pin him, because though we did eventually end up the same height, I was bigger than him. He was skinny and I was just plain stronger. But once restrained, then what? In his rages he would snarl he would hit me when I let go, and eventually I’d have to. My dilemma was I was the big sister, the one that had always tried to protect him and never wanted to hurt him. When I was about 8 I got a blood vessel in my eye busted fighting a bully that was picking on him. I couldn’t hurt him, but when I’d let go he’d keep his promise. As my parents and I would say, he would never pull a punch.

Now my parents would try to get him to stop being such a jerk to me, but it only ever made him meaner. If they were defending me, he semed to think, that must prove they loved me more. They were working and we were on our own, but together out here on the farm, much of the time. Oddly being unsupervised had worked out great when we were little, but as we got older and the relationship got worse it was not great at all.

It’s so weird, looking at old photos. All those happy ones when were little. There isn’t a photo of me NOT smiling until I started school, and there isn’t one where he isn’t smiling and usually hugging me until that year with the teacher. Like OMG! He honestly seemed a different person. By our teenage years there are almost no photos of me smiling, and the few that show my brother smiling are rather threatening. 

We did have one powerful bonding moment one day. We just started talking, just spilling out all the horrible things and bullying we went through at school, that hell hole. We ended up sobbing and just holding each other. It was so intense I actually believed it was a breakthrough, a turning point out of the darkness. Nope. I made that mistake many times over the years.

And yeah, the gun incident happened. I survived, and between that and another incident when he nearly shot trespassers (that had permission we didn’t know about) when scared, I let my folks know I didn’t think he should be around them anymore. It was atypical for the family so it was startling, but his judgement worried me. 

But then came what was the worst turning point for many years. I dropped out of college. It would take a while to explain, but it would make me the sole non-college in the family and the source of shame. It was unforgivable sin. While my brother had given up physical violence (and never hit me again) the verbal abuse got ....unrelenting. How bad did it get? When he would drive home I would hear the car and feel a full on hyperventilate “run away!” panic attack. He’d come home from college and I’d shake at the sound of his voice. I won’t list all the things he said, but it boiled down to my worthlessness.

That said, he still would seem to love and want my company. He asked me to go on trips, like to Germany and Montreal, and despite the fact I would always swear never to travel with him again afterwards. He gave gifts that showed thought, cards, and moments of sweetness would slip out.

Still, I began to notice something else. When things were good, he was wonderful, but when things were stressful he’d get mean. 

Believe it or not, there were a few years I got my hopes up that hehad outgrown it, or worked past it or let go of that childhood rage or...something. He was great, no longer tormenting me. The only teasing was affectionate, without the cruelty. He did little kindnesses, joked, showed concern, and smiled. It was like having the little brother that had been so close to me back. Even at his wedding the two of us kept giggling uncontrollably every time we looked at each other. 

It didn’t last. It took a few years, but it started building up all over again. I expect it was the stress he was feeling with a new marriage to someone with rather set ways ,interpersonal conflict on the job, a new house he’d bought, eventually fatherhood, and the initial denial anything was wrong with the nephew followed by the difficult reality. Then there was the fact that had set in that I was no longer the fattest in the family, but he was...something else to hold against me. 

So the point is, by the time he had a lot of things eating at him. He was having health problems I worried were stress related, that certainly didn’t help his mood. And there I was, unmarried, no kid, only working with Pop not a “real” job as far as he was concerned (HA!), none of the things weighing on him. Clearly, he would assume, my life must be better. That ignores my lived reality, but he always has ignored my point of view. As far as he was concerned I’d somehow cheated. And if my parents let me get away with it, well then, they must love me more.

So he promises to make my newborn nephew hate me. He picks on my continually. When I have a breathing attack and my heart goes nuts, he says to film it if I’m dying so he can watch it over and over laughing. He refuses to help us more than five minutes on the house extension, shouting “I can’t work with you people!!” And on and on. So why did I not see this final break coming? 

He isn’t happy. Even hearing about him through Mom I can tell that. I wish I could help him, but I never could. 

What’s strange is the fact I didn’t feel relieved by the break. Not seeing him meant sparing myself the weekly emotional rollar coaster, the walking on eggshells waiting for the moment he’s have a go at me. Instead I fell apart. I used to never cry, but I started then. I’d have meltdowns over it, thinking my life had hit the lowest it could get...the loss of my brother and nephew.

Of course, Pop started getting sick almost exactly then, and six months later he was diagnosed. It’s all been down hill from there! So I guess when you think you’ve hit rock bottom it might just be a bounce along the rock face as you keep plummeting.

My brother is still furious at me, and honestly I would  apologize whether I feel I did anything wrong or not if I thought it would do any good. But I know him. If I apologize he would take it as proof he was right. He doesn’t do forgiveness, more like gloating and justification for further jerk behavior. I’m not even exactly sure what he would want me to apologize for.

I’ve tried asking Mom for advice, but he baffles her and she says there is nothing I can do. Pop couldn’t help when he was alive either, not only because he didn’t understand it but he was enduring his own continual insults from my brother. I watched Pop sit there sobbing after a phone call with my brother, while Pop was sick but not diagnosed. That makes me angrier than any of the things my brother ever did to me. Apparently, to this day my brother is angry at Pop for not finishing the extension. Well he died damn it!

 The point is, all these experts that lecture how you must go to any length to have a good relationship with your siblings, tell me how the hell I can fix this. All those years of putting up with it, trying to make peace, trying to talk, reflexively saying I was sorry, occasionally arguing back intently and generally enduring sure didn’t help........

[hymn2000]

Called To Be A Rock - Frostiron feat. Spiderson AU fanfic - C25

Previous chapters: 1  2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24

Comments/reviews/questions welcome as always

Overall Desc.:  Peter is staying with Tony and Loki one summer while his aunt is away working/travelling.

Chapter Desc.: Being so high up in the air can be strange, especially for extended periods of time

Ship(s) involved: Tony x Loki aka Frostiron

Verse: Personal AU

Ongoing Warnings/themes/cw mentions: domestic, hurt/comfort, family dynamic, Tony in Dad Mode, holiday stuff, conflict

Chapter 25 - Get Over Your Hill And See What You Find There

-

Peter looked out of the window until civilisation as he knew it faded from sight, left far below. The seat belt light turned off, and once the others did, he slowly undid his seat belt and got up again, having a little wander over to the other side of the plane and seeing if the view was any different. It wasn’t. 

“Are you two going to watch that film then?” 

Peter shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe” 

“Well, do whatever you like, as long as you don’t disturb me” Tony said, going over and flopping down on one of the sofas. “I’m driving when we land, so I could do with the rest” 

He put a pillow under his head and closed his eyes. Loki went and lay on top of him, and Tony held onto him and turned onto his side, cuddling up against him and soon falling asleep. Peter watched them for a little while, half wishing the sofa was big enough for him too. He tried not to feel left out. He looked round the jet. It was like nothing he’d ever seen before, with plush seats and sofas, a soft thick carpet, a small kitchenette, a big telly, charging ports, tables, and all sorts of other home comforts. He wanted to have a proper look at everything - but he was still so tired. It was still only about 6.30am, although it didn’t really feel like it. Tony had left his shoulder bag on one of the units. Peter rifled through it, finding a thin fleece blanket and Loki’s pig, and he took them over to one of the other sofas. He curled up on his side, wrapped up in the blanket while the pig served as a makeshift pillow. The soft sounds of the plane flying through the sky acted as a soothing white noise, and it wasn’t long before Peter fell asleep again.

- 

Peter woke up a couple of hours later. He looked over at the other sofa, and saw that Tony was still fast asleep, but Loki was awake, scrolling on his phone. Loki sensed himself being watched, and looked up, making eye contact with Peter. He set the phone down and got up, careful not to disturb Tony. Peter didn’t move. Loki knelt down on the floor in front of him. 

“You’ve taken my pig” 

“He makes a good cushion” 

“I know. Do you want to go back to sleep?” 

“No, I’m ok now. I’m hungry though. Have we got anything to eat?” 

Loki stood up, going over to the kitchenette and opening the cupboards. “What do you fancy?” 

Peter sat up, pulling the blanket back round himself. “I don’t know. I’d be happy with just cereal, to be honest” 

He got up, keeping the pig in his arms, and went over to him. He was surprised at how much stuff was in the cupboards. 

“I- I don’t suppose we’ve got any tea?” 

Loki switched the kettle on and took down a couple of tin mugs from the cupboard. Peter looked at them. 

“Moomins!” 

Loki smiled. “Moomins. They’re lovely mugs, don’t you think?” 

Peter nodded, picking them up and having a proper look at the pictures. He held up the navy one depicting Moomintroll and Snorkmaiden by the campfire. 

“Can I use this one?” 

“If you’d like. Here, put them down now: kettles nearly boiled” 

Peter did as he was asked. He was happy to see they’d brought the chai tea with them: he’d developed quite a taste for it. He was impressed by the little fridge too. He now understood what Tony meant when he’d said you sometimes forgot you were flying while on the jet: it definitely felt more like a little hotel suite than a plane.

-

Loki sat back, looking at the picture of Moomin’s in a boat on his own mug. Peter sat beside him, pig under one arm, leaning his back against his side.

“Shall we watch that film now?”

“Sure, if you’d like” Loki answered, turning the telly on and flicking through the Roku menu until he found it. “I love this: it’s definitely my favourite Wallace and Gromit one”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. It’s such a classic: it’s so charming. It’s the little details that make it”

Peter smiled up at him. “I love it when you like human things. I swear you get cuter every day”

“Don’t get carried away” Loki said, but he put an arm round his chest and held him close. 

They both got lost in the film. They were quiet, aside a few laughs and comments about how nice the cheese looked and how scary the robot was. 

-

Loki switched the telly off once the credits started rolling.

“Have we got a pack of cards anywhere?” Peter asked.

“Ah, you want to make a tower?” Loki said. “I think there’s some in that drawer over there”

Peter set his empty mug down and left the pig on the sofa while he went and found the pack of cards. He settled on the floor and begun making his tower of cards. Loki sat down on the floor to talk to him. They were quiet at first, but as the conversation progressed, they grew louder, joking and mucking about together, making quite a racket.

A book collided with the side of Loki’s head, and he flinched at the impact. It hurt a lot, and his eyes smarted.

“What was that for?!” he looked up at Tony, who stood with the heavy book in his hand, looking less than impressed.

“I asked you to be quiet and let me rest”

“Well, sorry, but there’s no need to whack me one”

“Isn’t there?” he said, and smacked him with the book again, just to prove a point. 

“OW! Tony!”

"Be quiet” Tony looked at Peter. “The same goes for you, Mister”

He gave Peter a gentle tap with the book. He barely touched him, but Peter still blinked a bit. He looked over at Loki, who rubbing his head and looking pretty sorry for himself. 

“Keep the noise down, please” Tony said, going back over to the sofa.

“Are we nearly there yet?” Peter asked.

Tony checked his watch. “We’re not yet half way. We’ve still got a while to go, kiddo”

He lay down and pulled a cushion over his face, blocking them out. Peter turned to Loki, only to find that he’d retreated to the back sofa. Peter swallowed. There’d definitely been a mood shift.

-

Peter tidied up and then went over to the back sofa. Loki was on his side, facing the back of the sofa, his pig over his face.

“Mr Loki? Are you ok?” 

“I’m fine” Loki mumbled. 

Peter didn’t know what else to say. He clambered onto the sofa, squeezing into the gap between Loki and the back of the sofa, wriggling under the mans arm. Loki sighed, taking the pig from his face and holding it, and Peter, under his arm. 

“You shouldn’t lie to me. I’m just a kid: I’m very impressionable”

Loki couldn’t help laughing. “You’re a weird kid alright. Maybe that’s why we get on so well”

“Maybe, or maybe it’s the opposites thing. Y’know, young and old, human and god, sweet and... not”

“Did you just call me old?”

“Well, you’re like, a thousand years old. That is old, even if you don’t look it. By human standards, anyway. But yeah, even if you weren’t a god, just going off looks, still older than me”

“Ok, ok, I get it. And hold on a moment; who ever said I wasn’t sweet? And more to the point, who ever said you were?”

“What are you saying? I’m sweet! Kinda”

“You’re many things, Peter, but you’re not sweet. Not all the time, anyway: just sometimes. It’s not your most defining personality trait” Loki said.

“Which is?”

“Stubbornness”

Peter was surprised. “Stubbornness?”

“Yes. And persistence. You’re very like Tony, in that respect. And you’re clever. Maybe that’s another reason you fit in so well with us”

Peter decided to be flattered. “I like it with you and Mr Stark, y’know. I was pretty nervous at first, especially after when we first met...”

“Well, perhaps jumping you with a training session wasn’t the best way to make a first impression” Loki admitted. “I really wasn’t going to stab you, I hope you know that”

“I know. You said right back then. I believed you. I still do. It was still scary though. You do still scare me sometimes, but so does Mr Stark”

“Really? Why?”

Peter shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t like it when you two get angry or start arguing. And there was that whole thing where you went to stay with your brother and Mr Stark went all funny. That was pretty scary”

Loki looked at him sadly. “I didn’t realise we scared you”

“Well, ok, maybe ‘scared’ is too strong a word. That night, that one I mentioned? I really did get scared then. And I got scared that night I got into trouble for drinking and smoking. But that was proper fear, not little fear”

“You’ve lost me”

“Well, it’s a different kind of fear. Like, you know how there’s a difference between being scared about a dentist appointment and being scared because you nearly fell down the stairs? Nervous! That’s the word I was looking for. I do get nervous when you two argue. I’m glad you don’t do it much”

Loki stroked Peter’s hair. “You don’t have to be scared, and you certainly don’t have to be nervous. Disregard our spats for a moment: does Tony make you nervous?”

“Not any more. I know him so much better now. I think he’s great. I know what I can get away with and when I need to watch myself. I’m comfortable with him. He’s kinda like family now...”

“You two are so far in the father-and-son zone, it’s almost embarrassing” Loki teased. “What about me? Do I make you nervous?”

Peter rested his forehead against Loki’s chest so he didn’t have to look at him. “Yeah. But mainly because- well, because... Because I like you” 

“I know” Loki sat up, pulling Peter onto his lap so they were facing each other. 

“But, yknow, aside from that, you don’t make me nervous. I’m comfortable with you too. I never really expected to be. Ned loves it, thinks its cool”

“Thinks what’s cool?”

“Well, you know, us. Being friends with you. Messing about with you. Being close to you...” he paused, thinking of their wrestling matches and cuddle sessions and their trips to the shops. “You know I love you”

“I love you too. You’ve grown to mean such a lot to me while you’ve been with us”

Peter nodded, touching his cheekbone gently. One side of his face was still rather red. “Does it still hurt?”

“It’s fine” Loki said. Peter gave him a look. “Ok, it still hurts a little bit”

Peter knelt up, one hand on Loki’s shoulder, and he planted a series of kisses over his sore cheek. 

“What are you up to, kiddo?”

Peter pulled back for a moment, and kissed him firmly on the lips. 

“Better?”

Loki burst out laughing, and Peter quickly covered his mouth with his hand.

“Shh! We’ll wake Mr Stark again” 

“Sod it; he’ll cope” 

Loki pinned Peter down on his back on the sofa. Peter squeaked, trying to stay quiet. He didn’t want Tony getting grumpy at them again. He looked up at Loki.

“I think it’s about time someone made a fuss of you for a change”

“Mr Stark’s always fussing over me. You saw all the new stuff he bought me”

“I was thinking of a different sort of fussing”

A sudden image of being pulled close and kissed deeply flashed through Peter’s mind, and he blushed at the thought. The reality was of course much more chaste. Loki rubbed his nose against Peter’s for a moment, and started kissing all over his face. Peter giggled, living up to his claim of being sweet. He couldn’t help basking in the attention and appreciating the feel of Loki’s body against his own. He kept trying to think of Loki as a father figure, but his crush was still going strong and this ambition wasn’t seeing any kind of success just yet. He felt Loki’s hand on his hip, and the kissing stopped. Loki smiled down at him.

“You’ve gone all red”

Peter just stuck his tongue out at him. Loki grinned, slipping his hand under Peter’s shirt and tickling his stomach. Peter shrieked, grabbing at Loki’s hand.

“Don’t! Don’t, I’m ticklish!”

“I know” Loki said, continuing.

Peter shrieked again - and suddenly remembered Tony. He craned his head to look, thankfully finding him asleep. Still, he was bubbling over with laughter now, and was forced to cover his mouth with his hand to stop himself from being too loud.

“Mr Loki, stop it! We’re gonna wake Mr Stark!”

They did indeed wake him - but he was in a much better mood this time. He went over to them.

“Are you torturing our little guest?”

“Perhaps” Loki answered, not taking his eyes off the funny creature collapsed in a fit of giggles beneath him. 

“Do you need a hand?”

Not waiting for a reply, he grabbed Peter’s wrists, pinning them above his head and tickling under his arms. Peter shrieked, trying to pull free.

“Stop! This isn’t fair; I’m outnumbered!” 

Loki and Tony exchanged a mischievous look, and both continued until the boy was weak and helpless with laughter.

-

Peter was greatly relieved to be released. He continued to giggle weakly for a good thirty seconds afterwards, and they both laughed at him. 

“You’re a funny thing” Loki said, ruffling his hair. 

“Have you had anything to eat, kiddo?”

Peter nodded. “Yeah, I had something before we watched the film”

“Good. Can’t have you going hungry” Tony looked at Loki. “And yourself?”

“I’m not hungry”

“You should have something anyway”

“Oh Tony, don’t start”

Tony didn’t push it. “Why don’t we stick something on the telly? Pass the time a bit”

Peter sat up. “What do you wanna watch?”

“I don’t know... Hey, how about the one with the evil penguin?”

“What, Feathers Mcgraw?” Loki said. “I think you’ll find he’s actually a chicken”

“He’s also the scariest villain on earth” Peter said, laughing. 

“It’s the fucking trousers that creep me out” Loki said, wrinkling his nose.

Tony gave him a tap. “Hey, what have I told you about swearing in front of the kid?”

Loki merely rolled his eyes. He felt Tony was being hypocritical. 

-

Tony had something to eat while they settled to watch the film. Peter sat on Loki’s lap, squeaking and shuddering in exaggerated fear whenever the penguin was on screen. Loki joined in on the charade, holding Peter tight and claiming he felt threatened.

Tony watched them fondly, quite enjoying their little game. He knew there was a level of sincerity to their claims (“I’m terrified of this penguin and I don’t care who knows it”), but mostly he was just happy to see how close they were. He loved Loki with every fibre of his being, and Peter was very quickly gaining the same level of devotion from him - not that he’d ever admit it. He was overcome with a feeling of utter contentment as he sat there, half watching the film, and half watching his funny little family.

-

“Right, well, I’m suitably scared to death” Peter said, grabbing the remote and turning the telly off. “So, what now?”

“Diamond heist?” Loki suggested.

Peter gave him a look. “I’m being serious”

“So am I”

“You two are ridiculous” Tony said, going over to the kitchenette. 

“How long have we been in the air for?” Peter asked.

Tony checked his watch. “Around five hours now”

“Woah, really? That’s mad” 

“Lolly, why don’t you get your book out and read to him for a bit?” Tony suggested.

Loki got up, finding Tony’s bag and digging out Anne of Green Gables. 

“Where did we get up to?”

Peter thought for a moment. “We’d just finished chapter fourteen”

It had been quite a while since they’d read together. Loki sat back on the sofa, and Peter climbed into his lap again, wrapping the fleece blanket round his legs and settling back against his chest. Loki opened the book, cleared his throat, and begun to read:

“‘What a splendid day!’ said Anne, drawing a long breath. ‘Isn’t it good just to be alive on a day like this? I pity the people who aren’t born yet for missing it. They may have good days, of course, but they can never have this one. And it’s splendider still to have such a lovely way to go to school by, isn’t it?’”

-

“‘Miss Barry was a kindred spirit, after all’, Anne confided to Marilla. ‘You wouldn’t think so to look at her, but she is. You don’t find it right out at first, as in Matthew’s case, but after a while you come to see it. Kindred spirits are not so scarce as I used to think. It’s splendid to find out there are so many of them in the world’”

Loki set the book down on the arm of the sofa and kissed Peter on the cheek.

“That’ll do for now”

“Aww” Peter whined, disappointment, but accepted it. 

“You ought to do audio books, darling” Tony said, glancing up from his phone. “You’ve got a good reading voice: I never knew that about you”

“Well, you learn something new every day” Loki said. 

He pushed Peter off his lap and went to sit next to Tony, cuddling up against him. Peter decided to interfere, and plonked himself down in the middle of them. Tony smiled, wrapping the blanket round him better and holding both of them close against himself.

-

Loki and Peter both fell asleep again. Tony eventually got up to sort some things, leaving them curled up in a little huddle like a couple of little aardvarks. 

The day was getting on. They’d flown many miles, passing over water and landmasses unknown, passing through different countries and timezones - different worlds than the one they knew. 

The eighth hour was approaching. A notice was passed to him, and he smiled to himself. He gave Loki and Peter a little shake.

“Wake up now, darlings”

They did, blinking a bit and leaning against each other as they looked up at him. Tony smiled at them.

“Get up now” he said gently. “We’ll be landing soon”

Peter and Loki looked at each other, and got up, hurrying over to the window, peering out. It was dusky, seemingly early evening, which felt very strange indeed, considering it could be no later than about 2pm in New York. They could see a city, or a town, all bright lights and buildings and roads as far as the eye could see. Well, not quite: there was definitely some greenery in the distance. It looked so normal - but so different too. 

Soon, an airport came into view. They knew they’d soon have to sit and put their belts back on, so they made the most of the view they had now, still at a loss. Loki had his arms round Peter. Peter looked up at him, his expression asking if Loki knew where they were. Loki looked at Tony, so Peter did too. Tony was looking very pleased with himself. He grinned at them.

“Welcome to England”

*

[eene-fangirl]

The Curse of the Were-ED [An Ed, Edd n Eddy Crossover]

Note: Wallace and Gromit The Curse of the Were Rabbit was one of my FAVORITE movies growing up as a kid. The cheese scene from the end of the movie was one of my most favorite scenes in the world. So of course, I had to do an Ed, Edd n Eddy crossover. Enjoy!

Returning to the electronics tent after leading all the cul-de-sac kids away, Eddy smiled in victory. Bro would soon learn his lesson. And did everyone really fall for the fakest looking bunny rabbit costume ever? He’d always have a laugh at this memory.

“Eddy…” Ed’s voice called to him.

Eddy’s smile immediately disappeared. His heart dropped into his stomach.

Closing the tent drapes Eddy quickly walked over and fell to his knees leaning over Edd who was still in his were rabbit form. He was so immense whenever he stood, towering over everyone like a giant. That wasn’t any different from when he was in human form.

He comfortingly pet his soft fur, soothing him. Eddy wanted to joke how Edd turned into a pet, but Edd struggled to keep his eyes open and was clearly in a lot of pain. His fragile state broke Eddy’s heart further, increasing his worry.

“Is he okay?” May asked, standing away from the scene not certain she should approach the friends. This was their moment after all. Her wrecked party was the least of her concern. Her mom and sisters rented out the biggest hall in Peach Creek just for the sake of her eighteenth birthday. She added in the vegetable competition portion just for fun. But, did it only lead to danger?

“Double Dee, you okay?” Eddy asked softly, stroking his furry face. Edd was unable to respond due to his rabbit form. He did however know what others said to him.

Eddy wanted to say so much. First tell Edd that his mind-o-matic was the most dangerous invention he ever thought up and to thank him for saving his own life. But he wanted to confess something very important that he knew Edd was trying to say before he was rendered speechless.

Edd struggled to keep his eyes open, muttering little sounds. It hurt for him to speak or move. Eddy just shushed him placing a hand against his heart. The rabbit stared down at the placement.

A tear rolled down Eddy’s cheek, staring into Edd’s bleary green eyes. He was there. It didn’t matter that he was a rabbit. What mattered was that he was there.

“You’re gonna be okay, sockhead,” Eddy said to Edd, his voice cracking, failing him.

The rabbit smiled crookedly.

But then closed his eyes, his head falling to the ground.

Eddy starred in utter shock, along with Ed.

Before they knew it a ray of sparkles appeared and then beams of light traveled over its body slowly transforming back into Edd. Eddy watched, never taking his eyes off or even blinking. He shook as his throat tightened up.

Finally, Edd was back to his normal self as the beams of light disappeared, flying out from the tent as if they were spirits.

Eddy was afraid to even touch his best friend. Edd lied motionless, his eyes closed. It looked as if he were sleeping but the rise and fall of his chest was barely visible. Eddy waited in painful minutes waiting for any sign of life.

“Double Dee?” Eddy asked, his voice cracking.

Ed’s hand fell on Eddy’s shoulder, his grip tight.

“Edd, wake up!”

“Eddy…” Ed was also crying trying to pull his friend away.

“No. No, no, NO!” Eddy hollered in disbelief, stomping his fist into the dirt. “Wake up, Dee! You were just alive, invincible! You could lift heavy objects like you were the Hulk! You saved May! You avoided getting killed by Bro! And now you risked your own damn life to save my ass! Stop fooling around and wake up!” Eddy hollered into Edd’s face.

Still, no response.

Eddy felt another hand fall on his shoulder.

“Oh, Eddy, at least he’s in peace,” Came May’s heartbroken voice.

“Yeah, the rabbit’s gone,” Ed reluctantly agreed. He sniffled. May placed a comforting hand on her boyfriend's shoulder. “If only… there was a way to bring back Double Dee.”

Eddy was silent, bowing his head. His hands gripped the earth still. Ed could just feel his friends body shaking.

“What should we do now?” May asked, guilty. She started to cry even more hiding her face behind her hands in shame. Ed got up and hugged her close. They walked a little distance away from the scene trying to gather themselves.

No, Eddy thought to himself. After all they’d been through. Eddy could just remember Edd’s sobbing voice begging for him to do something when he started to transform once more. He also remembered how in shock Edd was when he learned the nightmarish news that he was the beast plaguing Peach Creek. His face was so pale, guilty. And the way he gave up rendering it useless that he no longer had the capability to put his very own invention back together.

And Eddy was there. He was there when Edd won the award for all his inventions earning a scholarship. When his experiment went wrong. The horrifying scene when he transformed into the were rabbit. And he was there to hold him when he broke down into sobs, admitting defeat. And when he saved his life, taking the bullet.

Eddy held Edd’s limp hand. It wasn’t cold. It was still warm.

That’s when Eddy remembered!

‘Only the creature will die.’

“That’s it!” Eddy yelled out grabbing Ed and May’s attention.

Eddy pulled out his cologne. It was the smelliest man colgue ever made. Even when Edd was in the deepest sleep he’d immediately wake up, turning up his nose and complaining to Eddy. He could complain all he wanted. Eddy knew Edd loved this smell.

He waft it under Edd’s nose in slow motions. Eddy held his breath, hoping, praying that Edd would respond.

Edd’s nose twitched!

He sniffed. And again. Until he groaned, disgusted!

“Eddy?” Edd awoke, confused, lightly hitting Eddy’s hand.

Eddy smiled from ear to ear, sighing in relief.

“Double Dee, you’re alive!” Ed yelled.

Edd came to and examined his non furry hands. “It worked. I’m back to normal!”

Eddy helped him sit up. He grimaced, touching his sore back. Edd held Eddy’s arms for support, staring into his eyes. “You saved me.”

“So did you,” Eddy said softly. He held Edd’s soft flesh. He stared at his shirtless chest. Had he always been so beautiful?

Wait a sec…

“Uh… sockhead…” Eddy quickly pointed his eyes south.

Edd questionably followed his gaze and immediately yelped, concealing himself with his legs. He forgot when he turned into the were rabbit his clothes ripped off his body due to his gigantic new form.

Eddy took off his jacket and wrapped it around Edd’s waist.

“Thank you, Eddy,” Edd shivered, thankful. He hugged himself trying to keep warm. For any early day in May the air was quite chilly.

Ed draped his own green coat around Edd’s shoulders. “It’s great to have you back, Double Dee!” He happily stated patting his friends shoulder.

“Oh, my golden carrot award!” May pointed out. She picked up the now battered gold medal which she had designed just for this occasion. She stared lovingly at it.

“Well,” she started, “I’m sorry your melon was destroyed, Edd. Still it was used for a good cause. I think all three of you deserve this.”

“Thanks, bunny!” Ed said to her. Then they all laughed, immediately seeing the irony in the situation.

May bent down to Ed. She kissed him. “You saved me.”

“We graduate in a week,” Eddy pointed out. It was random, but so much had been going on that he actually forgot.

“It’s not going to be easy leaving in a few months,” Edd tiredly declared. He was leaned against Eddy’s shoulder as the other held him close, keeping him warm.

Eddy’s grip around his shoulders tightened. “After this I don’t even want to let you go.”

Ed stood up. He took May by the hand. “I’m going to get the car,” Ed suggested. He was eying Edd and Eddy however. May too. “I’ll back it up right to the tent so nobody will see you.”

“Thank you, Ed.” Edd still flushed in embarrassment.

Ed and May exited the tent leaving Edd and Eddy alone. Despite the awkward situation Edd turned and looked at Eddy who still held him tenderly. Arguably he liked this.

“You saved me, Eddy,” Edd said softly, placing his arms around Eddy’s neck.

“And you actually sacrificed yours for me.”

“Of course I would! I’d take a bullet for you any day!” Edd declared.

Eddy smiled. “That makes two of us.”

They were silent. Edd noticed the remaining tears under Eddy’s eyes. He still looked quite shaken.

“Eddy?”

“Yep?”

“I-I...love you.”

Eddy answered him with a kiss.