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shadowdianne · 5 years

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Since you don't get prompts all of the time, I thought it was high time that I'd sacrifice my creative intellect and send you one myself. So here it is. Swan Queen, btw. Emma accidentally locks herself in a truth chamber with Regina. They both have a secret they desperately want to hide from each other; after all the other can never find out how much the other loves them. They go about it in the most cringey ways of ways until there's only one thing left to say; the truth. Show me how ^.^

6k later...

Well, remember me raving about hubris? Is obvious that I haven’t learnt a thing about it. So,this is not short but I had far too much fun with it. Which I hope it shows andmakes it worthwhile to read it. I truly hope that you like it, really.

I added a spin to thetruth chamber though. I may or may not have taken a device I thought on addingto either Metallic Ink or Of deals magic and secretsand put it here. So the chamber is more of a… cone(?) and certainly feedinginto the steampunk dynamics. Sorry, I’m too much of a geek I guess.

A03 Version because this is just too much

“So howthis works? We can’t lie?”

Reginastared at Emma as the blonde looked at the contraption made out of copper andglass she had knocked over as they both rummaged through Gold’s shop. Thedevice, no bigger than the woman’s fist and covered in intricate filigrees thatseemed to be runes written on a mix of elvish and faeric, was emitting a smallbuzzing sound; not overtly noisy but enough for her to sigh at as the threadmade out of lighting that had spurted out of it when Emma had let it fallcovered the radius of the shop’s floor.

Standing atthe farthest corner from the cone of truth, she bit down her bottom lip as shefelt the telling sounds of the magic from the device, the compulsion ofanswering to the question eating at her. Only Emma, she thought as she pressedthe pads of her fingers against her temple, would have needed so little time tolock them in a truth chamber. The look the other woman had given her momentsprior when Regina had seen the flash cover them both had been more telling thananything else.

“Is notthat easy.” She finally replied, letting her hands fall limp at her sides, theblack blazer she wore stifling as she tugged at the edges of her sleeves. “Thespell feeds on truths. We cannot escape until we tell everything we have liedabout.”

Which was aroundabout way of saying that they both had a problem, a big one. One that noteven her powers as the newly crowned queen of realms could even surpass.Apparently blind to the many layers the spell had, Emma shrugged as she kneltin front of the device, fingers hovering over the triangular shape of theobject, the faint glow it emitted casting shadows and shapes on her cheekbonesas she eyed it; light pooling around the awful ring she still wore on herfinger, an object Regina felt her consciousness beginning to focus on, aided bythe spell.

Emma’svoice rose once again, waking her up from her reverie.

“So… what?I tell you all my truths and then we are out?” The blonde chuckled a little, avague reminiscence of the brazenness Regina had seen her display more than afew times once upon a time. The lack of a leather jacket, however, made thedifferences all more jarring. “It’s pretty flimsy.”

Taking afew strides to the center of the chamber, Regina eyed the still kneeling woman.She usually forgot that Emma didn’t know the basics of a world that had beenhers for the first years of her own life. As much as she wanted to be angry ather clumsiness the anger fiddled away as she admitted inwardly that the blondecouldn’t have known what she would unleash by dropping the device. Not like sheshould be picking any unknown objects inside Gold’s shop, of course, that gaveher enough agency to, at least, be slightly irritated. Anger, she consideredwhile sucking on her teeth, was far better than the impending sense of dreadthat was beginning to grow on her chest.

“The spellwas created so no spies could infiltrate the castles of the royal family.” Shefinally supplied, unable to stop herself as the spell compelled her to speak.And even though she hadn’t seen the cone before she had heard enough of it,enough of the powers it hold in the manner of a simple hex kept intact by theaid of the copper bands around the glass. It was intricate, and beautiful onits own way, the thought assaulting that side of her who had always feltincredibly interested by magic on itself, the one Gold had fed back when shehad been his apprentice. Licking her lips, barely looking at Emma, she spokeonce again, softer this time. “But it was a little too… much. I can only wonderwhy Gold had one of this lying around.”

The lastbit was murmured; the power of the device was obviously quite amazing; the factthe man had one was already sketchy enough. Sadly, they couldn’t ask him how orwhy he had it, how it had fallen onto his hands. She guessed she probablydidn’t want to find the story behind it; no matter the ramifications it hold.Which made the trip Emma had managed to make her take after the blonde hadknocked on her door, looking restless and nervous on her first day of the jobafter her maternity leave, all more pressing.

The blonde,unaware of Regina’s musings, rose and pressed the palms of her hands againsther jeans, a series of magic sparks following her movements as she did so.Magic, Regina knew, that would be totally useless against the powers keepingthem both tied to the chambers borders. A detail Emma was obviously ignorant ofas she directed the flurry of sparks towards the buzzing device.

Sighing andapproaching the blonde, Regina rose her right hand, carefully placing it atopthe woman’s hands, not really touching but close enough for her magic to reactto Emma’s, purple swirls breaking through her skin as she eyed the blonde’sgreen eyes, the sudden proximity making the ball of fear tighten on her chest.

“It doesn’t work like that.” She said,infusing enough sternness on her tone that Emma frowned, letting her handsfall. Rolling her eyes and taking a few steps away so she could spin and pointat the borders of the cone, Regina snapped her fingers, sending a wave ofdemonstrative magic towards the barrier, letting them fiddle out just like shehad known they would. “Once the chamber has been called it won’t disappearuntil we don’t have anything else to say.”

The blondeeyed the device in front of her and, for a second, she seemed a moment away oftrying to kick it. Which made the brunette roll her eyes at the obvioustwitching on Emma’s calf. Growling, the younger woman sat down again, handsfiddling on her lap.

“Ok, so let’s do it.”

Blinking atthe sudden change, Regina parted her lips, unsure of what she had heard. Shehad expected that Emma would try another thing before ascribing to the factthat they were trapped. Maybe even try to call to her parents, to Hook. That,apparently, wasn’t the case and when the silence stretched the blonde merelypointed around them, at both the dusty walls and themselves, still in themiddle of the cone. Apparently unperturbed.

“Yes, let’s start telling… I don’t know.” Sheran a hand through her blonde tresses, glancing at the borders. “I’m wearingmismatched socks. How about that?”

The truthdid seem to be heard by the cone, the device glowing ever so slightly at thewords, the truth ludicrous enough that Regina groaned inwardly, not doubting fora second the tidbit was true.

“Is thatwhat you are able to come up with?” Her voice was harsher than intended andEmma looked at her with a mix of surprise and wonder she always got nearmagical devices. She should have known, the brunette thought; Emma had beenunable to keep her hands to herself when they had first tried to start with themagical classes, touching almost anything she could on her vault. She shouldhave at least call Henry before going to Gold, tell him where they wereplanning to go. Unfortunately, she hadn’t; surprised by the fact Emma that hadsought her company. A rarity that still hurt deep whenever she thought aboutit.

Pressingher lips until they formed a fine line, Emma pointed at her, voice rising asshe spoke, sparks of white tinting her pupils.

“Well, atleast I’m trying! You are the one there, brooding.”

“Because Idon’t want to be here.”

The wordscame from her mouth before she was even able to edit them, her tone rising aswell, their situation nagging the back of her mind; the possibility of hersaying something, telling something she didn’t want to tell prickling herinsides.

She hadn’tleft Storybrooke for this, she thought momentarily, hadn’t left everythingbehind only to come back and be subjected to this; a possibility she had neverconsidered before.

Standingagain, stomping almost towards her, Emma herself looked angrily at her, eyesflaring with unspent energy, the shadow in them growing darker as did the hueof her magic on the back of her pupils.

“I don’teither!” She replied, and Regina remembered once again that despite thetentative tries they both had done it still had been a long time since they hadtruly worked together as a team. “That’swhat I’m trying to do something about it.”

Pinchingthe bridge of her nose, calling for her magic, asking, pleading with it so itdidn’t rile up in the same way Emma’s was doing, she focused intently on theother woman’s eyes, on the stupidity of their situation. One that, if it wasn’tbecause of the growing pressure on her chest, her throat, she would be laughinghysterically about. Leave them to end up trapped without a baddie in town. Theycertainly had lost their touch.

Rising oneshoulder, half-shrugging before walking towards the middle of the cone, it wasshe the one who now bent her knees, the high heels of her boots scrapping thefloor as she fought to keep her balance, unwilling to fall in front of Emmawho, crossing her arms tightly against her chest, eyed her, anger slowlytransforming into tiredness judging by the lines around her mouth.

A tirednessthat also overcame her as she eyed the cone, the bands and barrier still up inthe air.

“The onlything that we can do is to… don’t have any lies to tell, Emma.” She foundherself saying, softly. And the thoughtterrified her. Much more than she was willing to admit. She could feel the hexfestering on her, pulling every lie, every half-truth she had tried tosuppress. If this, she briefly considered, had happened a few years ago thememories of her past self would have worked, would have been enough. Sadly,currently those dark deeds had already been aired more times than she was ableto count: they didn’t work and so she could feel the pressure rising, drummingon her temples.

She wouldhave never thought that she would confess to the blonde while being trappedinside Gold’s shop. The imp would have loved this.

“Well, thensay something!”

Emma’swords brought her back to the present; to the device and the way she needed toeither sit or stand, her knees beginning to protest at the strain the posturebrought with it. Choosing the latest, she brushed her fingers against thebunched fabric of her slacks, ironing any possible wrinkles there beforenibbling on her bottom lip, considering momentarily what kind of truth thedevice would consider important enough to, at least, weaken its hold. It was awonder, truly, how Emma seemed bothered but not fazed by their predicament.

Or, a voiceon the back of her head whispered, slightly darker, reminiscent of her Queendays, she was merely projecting, wanting Emma to feel the same as she did, forthe same reason she had. A thought so ludicrous she snorted, humming when Emmaeyed her curiously, brows furrowed and dirty white still coloring her eyes.

A truthcame to her lips, one that wasn’t entirely a secret but one she felt the devicecould work with. Unless until she bought time, until she knew how to escape thecone.

“I don’t like the title your mother gave me;is too much.”

A snickerreached her, Emma’s lopsided smile welcoming her when she looked at her,surprised. The look was full of fondness, devoid of the slight awkwardness thathad filled their previous interactions after the coronation and Regina almostsmiled back before settling for a rise of her own brows, waiting for the womanto elaborate.

Which theblonde did after sighing, taking a step closer to her, some tension leaving hershoulders as she replied; a quiet admission on her eyes.

“I was always partial to Madam Mayor eitherway.”

The almostairily way in which she spoke made Regina smile despite the tension on hershoulders, the pounding on her ears.

“You areonly saying that because you like the ring to it.” It came out of her beforeshe could redirect her thoughts, the wording holding a far too flirtyundertone. One she bit down her tongue because of it.

Back in theday, this had been easy; fueled by either anger or the need to protect eachother. When Regina had left Storybrooke, however, she had also felt a strangeloss deeply lodged on her chest; the pull she had learnt to implicitly tie toEmma severed. That line had been restored when she had merged the realms, magiccursing through her, healing and covering every part of her in a wave made outof electric impulses. Yet, it felt strange to be there, standing there, in themiddle of a place both had returned again and again for the largest part of therelationship they had created for them both.

Emma didn’tquite answer to her response, her eyes down to the device, a light blushforming on her neck, the neck of the jumper she wore not high enough to hidethat fact. The unnatural glow of the cone gave her skin a paler complexion thanusual, the glimmer of unspent magic breaking through her hair, thousands ofspecs coloring the blonde curls with white undertones. She looked different,Regina found herself thinking. A mix, perhaps, of the woman that had hurt herfar too much to look at with the one she had known once. And that thought alonemade the truth called forth by the spell to pound even harder.

Sheremained silent, however, battling against the compulsion until she heardsomething close to a heavy breath being dragged; Emma’s eyes dark when shestared at her, the different knickknacks that covered Gold’s pawnshop framing hermovements as she changed the weight from one foot to the other, fingers playingagain with the awful ring, the silver clashing against Emma’s complexion, thedetails far too heavy on her knuckle as she slid it up and down.

“I don’tknow if I am being a good mother to Hope.” The admission was quiet, the pitch brittleas if Emma had the same problems Regina had, the compulsion far too much forher. Eyes still dark, unreadable, Emma stared at the boundaries around themjust as much Regina stole a glance to them, the glow changing slightly butnever disappearing. Not quite. One hand reaching for the swan pendant aroundher neck, the old bauble glimmering under the light, Emma kept on talking,never once leaving the boundaries glow as she did so. “I want to, but… thefirst few months, when you weren’t here… I thought on the memories you gave me,with Henry, nonstop.”

Nausearunning over her, Regina thought on the memories, on those she still had been ableto remember. The truth didn’t quite surprise her. Not as it could have atleast. But the realization of how Emma looked absolutely devastated made hersway on the spot, the idea of walking closer, moving closer, something thatkept echoing on the back of her brain. From a part that was the one who alwaysmoved closer, itching, hoping, that Emma would not move away.

“You are agood mother to her.”

There weremany other things she desired to admit but she didn’t speak them outload. Notknowing, not wishing really, to see how far she would be able to push a linethe cone was already tugging at, unrepentantly.

“Thank you.”

The bothfell silent once more, Regina trying to battle against the words she had triedto suppress for so long, the magic pushing her as she grew restless. They hadbeen trapped for a few minutes now, the light from outside the shop still thesame murky gray that spoke of a lazy morning in Storybrooke but the cars andthe people walking idly didn’t cross the enchanted walls of the place, thedimly lit place only a reminder that, apparently, no one was looking for them.Yet.

“How longuntil someone realizes we are missing?” Emma seemed to be thinking in the samelines as she had and when she zeroed on the phone the blonde had extracted fromher back pocket she refrained to do the same, knowing already that a call wouldbe out of the question.

“How longdoes Hook need to see that you are not glued to him?”

She didn’tclose her eyes, but she growled, outwardly this time, at the inability to keepthe obvious venom dripping from her lips. She had gotten better at this, atpretending total indifference to the doppelganger of the man that hadtransformed into her friend back when she had merely been Roni. The anger sheplaced on the pirate, however, hadn’t diminished. Not when she was stillsubjected to the presence of him now that she was back.

Turningbriskly, Emma rose her brows, obvious surprise on her face as she pocketed thephone once again, the not signal symbol flashing before Regina’s eyes beforethe woman’s voice made her look up once again to those green eyes, closer thanbefore.

“Really?You are going to use this to tell me again how you don’t like Hook?” Snorting,the younger woman pointed at the cone, almost as if she was talking to itrather than her. “Because I already knew that.”

Feelingdefensive, Regina shrugged, calling for calmness once more as her magic riledup once again, the throbbing on her temples only intensifying as she did so.She could try to change the subject, but she knew it would be fruitless; thehex had already latched on her thoughts about the pirate, about Emma’s ownwords and when she spoke she did it quickly, trying to do so in the quickestway possible.

It wasn’t,as Emma said, like her feelings regarding him were a secret. She tolerated himat best.

“Well, I’mnot lying. You seem unable to move without him saying something about it.”

Silencehung between them once more, the barrier glowing once more, signaling that ithad fed from both of their statements. Sighing loudly, Regina approached thewooden counter, just near the edge of the barrier, before sliding down, backagainst the wood. She was fed up with this; with her never truly having theopportunity to choose for herself. Ever so slowly, still silent, Emma walkednext to her, dropping at her side in a less ceremonious way; jaw trembling,teeth gritted.

For amoment Regina wondered if this was going to be it; the admission far too muchfor Emma to even try to keep the modicum of friendship she had started to giveher ever since she had returned to the town; a younger version of Henry in tow.

However,after drumming her thumbs against her knees, sitting cross-legged, the blonde restlesslyrolled her shoulders, the movement making the tresses that fall limp at bothsides of her head move slightly, capturing the gleaming barrier with them. Lipspale, the blonde glanced at the device, her magic traveling up and down herneck now, crackling on her cheeks as she swallowed thickly a couple of timesbefore parting her lips once more; her voice a trickle, defeated.

“I havethought on divorcing him.”

Reginacould feel her own muscles going slack at the admission, something close totrepidation making her fingers tremble as she pressed her hands on the shop’sfloor, magic itching as it began to burn through her veins, the hex pinching,prodding. She managed to swallow the words, but her voice still trembled fartoo much when she rose it again, the words ricocheting against the walls.

“Don’t make me say what I think about that.”It sounded far more pained than Regina would have wanted it to sound but shefelt that she didn’t have it in here anymore. She would have never consideredthat Emma, the Emma the woman had transformed into, would ever think onsomething she had been dreaming about ever since she had sat there, on thefirst row, heart sinking as Emma glanced at the dark-haired man as if he wasthe only thing that could make her happy.

Chucklingmirthlessly, Emma put both of her hands up, palms facing upwards, as shemotioned towards Regina. She, too, seemed pained.

“I wouldlike to.” And it was soft, far too soft and Regina sighed, rising her headuntil the back hit the wooden surface enough for her to jump back to a standingposition, unable to keep still anymore. Not when she felt her insides hurtingand Emma felt far too close to her, closer than they had been for a really longtime.

When sheopened her mouth again she knew beforehand what would come out of it, but shedid nothing to stop it this time, feeling perhaps emboldened by Emma’sinvitation. Emma who, still seated down herself, crane her neck so she couldkeep looking at her as Regina paced, purple coloring the air around her.

“You aretoo good for him.”

“You weretoo good for Robin.”

The retortdidn’t burn but Regina bristled at it; at the air of authority Emma suddenlyhad as the blonde finally followed her, standing back up, arms awakrdly akimbo,thumbs hooking on the belt loops of her jeans. An authority that she hadn’teven dare to wield even after Hook’s multiple deeds.

“Mysoulmate, the one that died because of our trip to the Underworld?” Sheflinched as the words left her mouth. She had made peace with what happened,even after she had been able to see the wish realm version of the man; foreverdifferent than the one who had died against Hades. She did not longer seek him,knowing that the story they could have had was and had been buried at last. Andstill, the fact that Emma seemed so capable of throwing that idea around whenshe herself felt her very skin burn with the reality of the pirate on Emma’slife blinded her for a hot moment. One second in where Emma glanced down beforewalking back to the furthest end of the barrier, the buzzing sound it followeda warning form the device that she would not go further than the uncomfortablestance in which she stopped, right foot mid-air.

“Zelenatold me that you had blamed her for that.” Licking her lips, the woman focusedon Regina once more, voice less brisk, mellower for a moment. “Do you realizethat it was my fault, right?”

Wanting tosnort, Regina laughed instead, the sound flat and fragile as she crossed herarms once more, fingers digging into her forearms as she did so. She did notwant to answer to that and yet her mouth opened once again, words coming out ofher before she was able to do anything about it.

“I couldnever blame you. It was my decision to go.”

Emma eyedat her wearily and Regina felt a wave of dizziness overcoming her.

“Then whyblame her?”

“Because itwas easier… to keep being angry about that. Even if…”

Shestopped, silence weighing down on both of them once more. She truly didn’t haveanything else to say, or at least not a coherent thought. Which, thankfully,the hex seemed to pick up on and stopped its nagging on the matter. Not likethe harm wasn’t already done. She had accepted what had happened years ago andyet, as Emma stared at her, her mind went back no to the Underworld, not to thehorrible, squelching feeling that had filled her when she had needed to divideEmma’s heart for a hot second, the feeling of it pumping on her hand one thathad given her nightmares alongside with the irrational fear of waking one dayonly to discover Emma was gone, left. No, the memory her mind latched on was onslightly before their trip, high cheekbones, dramatic flair and far too muchleather filling her mind.

An imagethat, despite everything, made her smile.

“I always thought that you overdid the wholeDark One regalia.”

Emma’s owntension disappeared as she laughed slightly, chuckling almost as she, too,seemed lost on the memory of white-haired hair and far too much dramatics.

“Says the woman who seemed to love using aplunging neckline while being the Queen.” And then there it was the flirty toneagain, resurfacing from Emma’s voice instead of hers. A detail Regina did verylittle to smile at as the next few words erupted from her mouth, not reallybothering to stop them this time while she lowered the tone, huskier now.

“You aresaying that because of something, dear?”

She hadexpected a stutter; Emma’s usual response of taking a step back whenever theyplayed too close with whatever precipice they seemed to always be walkingaround almost kicking in in the way she swallowed thickly. However, when thewoman answered, she did so in a similar tone than Regina had had, less smirk onher lips perhaps, but eyes intense enough for Regina to taste Emma’s magic inthe air, specs of white rising between them both, feeding the contraption.

“Well, you lookedamazing in those dresses.”

The silencethat fell upon them felt less tense now, but it still made Regina pressed herfingers against her lips, her mind still reeling as her memory went back to thetimes Emma had truly seen her in full Evil Queen regalia, the thought bringingdifferent memories than the usual shame and worry. Which was what made herblink owlishly as the blonde spoke once more, her voice somber now, one handhovering over the swan pendant once again, not quiet touching it.

“I amsorry.”

Staring ather, Regina frowned, unsure of what was the blonde referring to. Pointing aroundthem, the woman licked her lips slowly, trying probably -and failing- to keepthe words from falling from her lips.

“I’m sorryfor not having followed you guys when I could.” The woman looked surprised almost,but she shook her head and kept on talking, staring down at the device as shedid so, the buzzing on it changing ever so slightly, a band whirring as itlocked itself into place. Eyes dark,Regina followed the band as it moved, startled when the blonde spoke again, anundertone of almost wonder filling every vowel. “Maybe that’s why I’m thinkingon filling the papers now. Everything was just too much, seeing you with Henryand then… I couldn’t. But I’m sorry. I would have go with you.”

And yes,Regina, despite everything, had felt the pang of seeing Emma go, cross back toa town that didn’t feel like home. Not anymore. She couldn’t say that, however,not when she knew that admitting it so would end up with a much morecomplicated conversation. One she didn’t want to have. Instead, she focused onEmma’s face, walking closer to her, almost touching her, as she breathed whatshe had still told herself that day, when the vortex had closed behind Emma andHook, their shadows an imprint on the back of her eyelids that had burnt forfar longer than it should have as she could only have been able to think on thealmost teary smile Emma had directed at her, a longing curling itself betweenher lungs.

“You hadother things to take care of.”

And it wasa truth, but she still felt the magic pressing her sides, pushing her to keepon speaking, to keep on admitting. Thankfully, Emma cut her short, effectivelypushing the pressure out of her, the magic focusing on her now.

“Yes, but Imissed you, both of you.”

They smiledat each other, unsure. They didn’t have anything else to say about that, aboutthe fact that Regina had waited for far too long wishing to open her eyes oneday and find Emma crossing back again. About the fact that Emma had justadmitted that she had thought of her during her pregnancy, memories that weren’thers but had been gifted to her a constant reminder on her mind. Which wasprobably the reason why that, when Emma spoke again, earnest, down to businessonce again, Regina found herself startled, realizing for the first time thatshe was standing far too close for her own liking, their magic mingling,coloring the air not in one single white or purple but a different hue. Onethat she didn’t even dare to focus on for far too much.

“How manysecrets can we still be keeping from each other now?”

And it wasprobably the surprise, the way she felt her body tired, her muscles aching, butshe didn’t even battle the hex this time, words tumbling out of her mouth,unbidden.

“I canthink of a few more.”

Emmablinked at that, waiting for her to elaborate but Regina bit down on hertongue, taking a step back only to be stopped by Emma grasping her forearm,keeping her in place. Eyes pleading and far too understanding for Regina’sliking.

“Well,let’s hear them.”

And thistime it was her who run away, shaking her head while she did so; not movingaway but closing the possibility as she swallowed down with every strength shepossessed the compelling magic that pinched her, prodded at her, waiting forher to speak, to admit something she didn’t want to. Not when she had just reclaimedher space in Storybrooke, not now, when Emma had told her that she was thinkingabout a divorce.

“I wouldprefer not to.”

Anothersilence, another pause and Regina began to wonder if Emma’s previous idea ofkicking the device out of their lives was actually not a bad idea. Not when shefelt her strength depleting rapidly, the contraption obviously not happy withher deflection.

“I alsohave one I don’t want to say.”

Words blurtedand unnaturally loud, Emma seemed just as speechless as Regina felt and,surprised, she could only answer in the same tone, unsure.

“You do?”

Nervous laughterechoing through the shop, Emma let Regina go, her grasp slipping as she run herfingers through her hair, strong enough that Regina winced slightly at theobvious tug on a few locks. Tongue peeking between her teeth, Emma paced,moving away as Regina took an unconscious step forward, magic drumming on herveins.

“I don’t know which one is worse. The factthat I had… that I dreamt about you, or that…”

“I alsodreamt about you.”

Regina didn’tquite hear the gasp, but she felt it nonetheless on the way her cheeks flushedat the admission, at the stupid way her mouth betrayed her; the hex taking holdon her, making her feel like a stupid girl, the same kind of girl that she hadbeen one. Naïve, far too naïve.

And yet…

“Yourealize I’m not talking about simple dreams, do you?”

Sherefrained herself from rolling her eyes. Yes, she had understood the tone, thefact that Emma even had those about her making her stammer, the beast of atruth she had tried to bury deep within her roaring back to live as she wonderedhow many, for how long.

Emboldenedby it, she pressed on, taking Emma’s space again, cornering the woman almostagainst the counter, the buzzing of the barrier forgotten as she stared at Emma’seyes, exhilaration running down her back as she saw some of the old fire backthere; a need to prove herself framing Emma’s features, giving them a shade ofgold and white Regina hadn’t even realized she had missed.

“What madeyou think I didn’t meant the same for me as well?”

She felther heart drumming against her ribcage, the thousands of times she hadimagined, hoped, for Emma to tell her something, say something instead than themere pregnant pauses, the ones she always walked away with the thought of athousand what-if’s clamoring inside her head, coming back to her, one by one.

“I had the first the first time I came here,the second night.”

Reginacould remember that night, the absolute fury she had felt, the need to scalpEmma, the need to make her go away despite the pull she had felt when she hadstood in the middle of her foyer, a far too flirtatious smile on her face, akind of strut on her walk she knew she only used when she intended to usedesire against those stupid enough to think she was weaker than she truly was.

But Emmahad never underestimated her, she had always seen her for her, for herself, forthe woman she was, not for what stories and rumors said and, as such, she couldpicture herself that night, and the one after that one, and the one that hadcome after that: curling into bed, sleep keeping her awake as she dreamt ofmultiple possibilities. A few making her tremble as she watched as the clocktick by hours in a town that hadn’t known time before.

And, a fewothers, making her want to see how far she would be able to push the newcomer’sbuttons.

“Why didn’t you…” But she didn’t finish thequestion, afraid suddenly that her voice reflected the sudden need to know, thewant that she had been so good at pretending it wasn’t there for the longest oftimes. The hex battled against it, of course, pushing, biting her, but she wasyet again saved by Emma’s own compulsion forcing words out of her in a similarfashion.

“We hatedeach other.”

“But wedon’t anymore.”

And shefelt pathetic once again; pleading for a truth that didn’t even matter anymore.Not after everything that had happened. A few dreams regarding her and theblonde didn’t hold its weight now, not after everything that had transpired. Nomatter how she still had them, all of them leaving her far too bothered to eventry to do something but to finish what they started every single night sheended up thinking about the blonde.

Blonde who,laughing bitterly, ducked away, placing her hands on the counter, eyes open andexposed.

“Tellingyou that I’ve had dreams about you I haven’t even had with Hook is not exactlyan easy conversation, Regina.”

And it wasn’t.But Regina would have never thought there would be one to begin with. Which waswhat made her jump as the blonde spoke again, eyelids low, giving her look analmost dreamy one as she spoke, voice quiet, pensive.

“I would have said no, to Hook. In thewedding. I wanted to say no, I wanted to turn and run to you.”

“Emma…” AndRegina wanted to stop her there, tell her that she had already admitted enough.Far more than Regina herself had said but the blonde, like she always did, stubbornly,stupidly, shook her head, knowing her far too well.

“No, letme. I broke the seal. It’s only fair that I’m the one who says this.” A tearysmile forming on her lips, she kept on talking, softly, a small moment of doubtcoloring her voice before she spoke once again, her next admission spoken withsuch softness, with such fragility, that Regina wondered for a brief second ifthe blonde wasn’t hoping that they could feign it had never happened. “I wantedto say no to him and then say it to you.”

Regina feltthe floor open behind her feet as there was no mistake on Emma’s words, the buildupon her own chest eliciting a gasp as Emma chuckled, sadly, bitterly almostbefore she hugged herself, bony shoulders protruding as she tried to move away,the ghost of a blush beginning to dust her cheeks with red and pink. Lightheadedas she felt, Regina could only watch with one hand on the counter, steadyingher, as she felt the hex screaming at her, asking her, claiming for a truth shehad spent far too much time denying only for the woman in front of her to beather at it. Like she always did, she thought with fondness tinting her thought.

Stillunable to speak, she saw how Emma swallowed, tears building on her eyes, makingher look younger in a way, softer around edges that Regina had never wanted tosee disappear. “But I didn’t. And I regret it. Every day ever since.” Chockingout a sob, raw magic dancing on her eyes, on her hair, on her skin, the womandidn’t move when Regina rose her other hand, hovering over her cheek, unsure,afraid. “I should have… I should have tried to say something, but I didn’t wantto lose what we already had, I didn’t want to disappoint everyone. My parents,Henry…”

The hold ofthe hex was still there but Regina couldn’t care less about it as she stared atEmma’s eyes, at the way the blonde kept waiting for a response, one that shefelt trapped between her teeth as she gritted them before she let her musclesrelax, the dizziness she had felt coiling on her stomach; hope thrummingthrough her veins.

“I’m in love with you, you idiot. I would haveloved…” It came out quicker than intended, imperfect and fast but Emma stillgasped as the chamber whirred and fell, the light disappearing and a wave ofpower cracking a few glasses and mirrors around them. Not like Regina caredabout it anymore. Not like she felt able to move either, as Emma was the onethis time who stepped closer, her chest touching hers as she slide her handback towards Regina’s, pressing the palm against her back, magic crackling inthe air.

“Say it again.”

And therewas a hint of cockiness, the kind Regina had missed. Drunk on the realizationshe wasn’t dreaming, she nodded, whispering it again, less brisk, closer towhat she guessed an admission would sound like. One that had been in the makingfor a decade now.

“I loveyou.”

Emmalaughed, childlike, free as the sound of a ring against the floor between themmomentarily blinded them both.

“Again.”

“I…”

But shenever managed to finish the word, a kiss promptly stopping her, the resultingwave of magic enveloping them both, leaving nothing else behind but them. Onlythem.

#swan queen #SwanQueen #prompt #delirious-comfort

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redrobinfection · 7 years

Text

Completely Roundabout, Pt 2

<<Part 1 (Tim’s Birthday)

JayTim - Freeform // Pre-relationship; enemies to friends to lovers; jumping straight into the “we’re not really friends but we kind of are?” stage // 2.9 K // Read on Ao3

Happy Birthday, Jason!! ❤

~*~

“Shit.”

“Hmm?”

“Dammit!”

“Uhhh, what’s up, Red?” Jason asked cautiously, raising an eyebrow at the red and black-clad vigilante sitting beside him on the edge of the roof.

“I just realized that today is September sixteenth,” Red Robin replied as he scrubbed a gauntleted hand over his masked eyes.

“Umm, and this is a problem because…”

“Because it’s been an entire month since August sixteenth.”

Jason raised an eyebrow. “And that date is relevant because…”

Red Robin stared at him. “Hood. That’s your birthday. Remember?”

Jason snorted. “Oh, that?” He reached around the rim of his helmet, deftly unlatched the complicated clasp, and pulled the ‘hood’ off. He ran a gloved hand through his hair and cocked an eyebrow from behind his domino as he turned and asked, “But why’s that a big deal? My birthday was a month ago; why’s that important now?”

Red Robin groaned, leaning back on his hands, surveillance of the precious metals depository in front of them long forgotten - that was okay; based on the intel they’d gotten, nothing was likely to happen that night anyway, Jason figured.

“I completely forgot about it, that’s why,” Red replied quietly, looking pained. Jason opened his mouth to put Red’s concerns to rest - who cared about his birthday, he certainly didn’t - but Red didn’t notice as he stared off at the twinkling skyline. “You remembered mine at the last moment and then were thoughtful enough to do something after the fact.”

“Tim,” Jason sighed, “look, I appreciate the thought, but we were kind of in the middle of dealing with, what, two alien invasions, and then chasing down, like, what, four different supervillians a month ago? Let’s be real, I didn’t even get a chance to think about my own birthday.”

Tim was so upset about the whole thing he didn’t even comment on Jason breaking the no names in the field rule. “Yeah, but I remember remembering it a week after the fact, and I meant to do something, but now it’s been three more weeks and I completely forgot.”

Jason grimaced. If he’d known back when he first came back how much thought his replacement put into beating himself up over every little thing he probably would have gone easier on the kid that first time they’d met. Maybe. He certainly would have aimed to plant more ideas to psychologically traumatize the newest Robin rather than spend so much energy beating on him physically; there was no one better at beating Tim up than Tim himself, he’d come to find out.

As it was now, Jason kind of wished a good pummeling could knock all the self-deprecating thoughts out of the younger man. It would certainly be easier than trying to convince Red Robin to go easier on himself.

“Little Red, you’re making too big a deal out of this.” Jason shook his head. “It was just a birthday. It would have been nice if you had said something, but I’m not upset that you didn’t, not given how overwhelmed we were these past couple of weeks.”

Tim frowned, looking uncertain. Jason leaned forward into Red’s space, huffing a laugh as he added, “I mean it’s just something we humans have made into bigger deal than is really necessary, right? What’s the big deal about a birthday, anyway?”

Red Robin backed away from the ledge and threw down his cowl. Tim’s eyebrows rose as he turned to face Jason, exhaustion melting away to incredulity. “Um. Only that it celebrates the fact that you exist and that you’re alive and that you’ve managed to stay alive for so many years! And, we of all people - you of all people - have the most to celebrate for the feat of staying alive in spite of everything!”

Jason ignored the backhanded reference to his death and raised a skeptical eyebrow. “You certainly didn’t seem to care all that much about your own birthday. You didn’t remind anyone, didn’t ask for a dinner or a party or anything, didn’t even cancel your work meetings or your patrol that night. So what? It’s only important if it’s not your birthday, if it’s not your life?”

Tim blinked then looked away, abashed. The silence stretched but Jason waited, determined to crack through Tim’s self-deprecation on this one. It was one thing that he’d thrown Tim around and talked like he was trash for trying to take his place, back when Jason was in that bad, bad place; and it was one thing that the demon brat had channeled his uncertainty and anxiety over his place in the family into misplaced aggression towards his older brother and predecessor, and repeated attacked him for it, back in the day; but it was another thing entirely that Tim insisted on throwing himself away even after Jason and Damian had both come to appreciate Tim for who he was and what he had to offer as a brother and peer.

He and Damian still had trouble admitting to themselves sometimes how much they admired and respected Tim, and they still gave him shit on a semi-regular basis, if only to hide their shame for how they’d treated him without thinking their actions through, but they appreciated the hell outta him now, so Jason would be damned if he let Tim appreciate himself any less than they did.

Tim fiddled with his gauntlets and shifted his legs restlessly, making Jason think he might try to jump up and run away from the questions - Jason would chase him down if he had to, so help him - but eventually Tim found the words to respond.

“No, it’s not… I don't… Everyone’s life is important, even mine, it’s just not something you’re supposed to make a big deal out of yourself, I think,” Tim explained, looking thoughtful. “I make a big deal out of everyone else’s birthdays, but I don’t make a big deal out of my own because that… it doesn't… I don’t feel like…”

Tim paused to swallow and Jason waited, knowing deep down what Tim was going to say next. “I just feel like it would be really self-centered to call attention to myself instead of letting other people decide if they wanted to remember and celebrate on their own.”

“So, by that logic, how can you really blame me for not making a fuss over my own birthday?” Jason asked, tilting his head towards Tim with a savage grin.

Tim gaped. Jason didn’t often pull out his quiet, rational side, so often it surprised people that he still had one, but he could still keep up with the best of them when he had to - Tim included. After a moment, Tim huffed a laugh and settled back onto the roof.

“Okay, point taken,” Tim conceded with a grin. “However, in that case we should both make a bigger deal out of our birthdays,” he added, surprising Jason. “They’re important. Yeah, other cultures will celebrate different days or celebrate in different ways, but the meaning is the same: we’re alive and we’re stayin’ alive and that means something. That means a lot to people like us.” Tim paused and looked Jason straight in the eye. “It means a lot to me.”

You mean a lot to me was the unspoken takeaway from that and Jason wasn’t sure what to make out of that sentiment. He had beaten this kid bloody, treated him like crap at one time. Things were better now, but he still really couldn’t understand why Tim cared as much as he did.

To be fair, he wasn’t sure why it bothered him so much that Tim beat himself up or didn’t give himself the credit he was due, so maybe there was something worthwhile between them after all.

Sometimes he felt like they both saw something in each other that reminded them of themselves, something that reminded them of who and what they’d always wanted to be. Something that reminded them that for as far as they fell, there were always ways to pick themselves back up again.

So, yeah, maybe there was something small, but meaningful between them, and maybe - just maybe - Tim meant a lot to him, now, too.

—

A week passed after that night and he and Tim ran into each other a few times, but the younger man didn’t bring up Jason’s birthday again.

Not until one quiet night when he showed up on the roof where Jason was taking a break, carrying what looked like a black and red box wrapped clothes box.

“Uhhhh, hey there, babybird. To what do I owe the honor?”

Red Robin approached, pressing the package against his chest with one arm so he could yank down his cowl with the other. He stopped in front of Jason and offered the package to him.

“Happy Birthday, Jay.”

Jason shifted and studied the package. It was roughly twelve by nine inches in size and an impressive three inches deep, and it was covered in black matte paper with shiny red foil bats all over it.

“Where did you get that paper?”

“I made it.”

“What, really?”

Tim rolled his eyes. “Yes. It’s not that amazing. Just take the gift already; I swear it’s not a bomb or a trap.”

Jason squinted at Tim appraisingly - teasingly - but reached for the package. The sides of it were firm under his fingers, so he grasped it tightly, but when Tim released his grip, Jason wasn’t prepared for how heavy it would be and he almost dropped the thing.

“Holy fuck, man, what is in this? Lead? Wait, you didn’t get me ammo, did you?” he joked with a grin. “I didn’t think you approved of anything other than the rubber kind.”

Tim shook his head with an abashed smile. “Shut up and open it already.”

Jason slowly peeled back the paper to reveal black cloth and gold embossed letters. Tearing away the rest revealed a book. A huge-ass book. Jason studied the sides of it.

“Holy hell, Babybird, is this a book or a weapon or both…?”

His voice trailed off as he read the shiny title on the cover then whipped the cover open to check the title page.

The Library Shakspeare

Jason was speechless. He looked up at Tim then back down at the book and then flipped through the huge pages numbly. Tim cleared his throat.

“I… Alfred… I did some research and figured out that you really appreciate Shakespeare’s works, so I tracked down a copy of this thing,” Tim explained awkwardly. “It’s all his works, unabridged, everything from his comedies to his sonnets. Everything of import he ever wrote, all in a single volume.”

“With illustrations,” Jason added, staring at an old-style lithograph on one page. Tim choked out a laugh and scratched the back of his head.

“Yeah, with some old crappy-ass pictures. Sorry. I always kind of ignored them in my copy….”

Jason shook his head and looked up at Tim again, stunned. “Man, no, this is awesome! Thank you.” He flipped through the pages again, tugging off one glove so he could run his bare fingers over the creamy smooth paper, stopping at one of the sonnets and mouthing the first familiar lines.

“I don't… I can't… This is amazing, man. Thanks for thinking of me. This is perfect.”

Tim smiled, looking relieved. “You’re welcome. I’m glad you like it. You went through the effort to give me such meaningful gifts, I really wanted to return the favor.”

Jason scoffed. “I got you a sticker and a bag of marshmallows; that was nothing. This… oh man… this is way better than the little things I got you.”

Tim shrugged. “Yeah, I guess they were small and inexpensive, but they were thoughtful - I don’t even know when or how you found out about the marshmallows - and, well, they made me smile.” Jason looked up in time to catch a small smile lighten Tim’s face as he admitted as much to him. Jason mirrored the expression and repeated his thanks.

“But really; thank you, man. Best birthday gift in a long time.”

Tim jumped, eyes widening. “Oh, shit, hold on I almost forgot the…where’d I…” Jason cocked his head as Tim rifled through his pouches. “Aha! Here.”

Tim offered him a small resealable pouch and Jason opened it warily. “I wasn’t sure what kind you’d like best - I’m more of a coffee person, you know - but Alfred said you had a soft-spot for oolongs and the shop owner said that this was one of the best and…”

Jason lost track of what Tim said after that, he was too consumed by what he discovered when he examined the gift. The foil-lined pouch was filled with loose-leaf oolong, just as Tim had advertised, and the moment he lifted the pouch to take a careful sniff, he was gone. That shop owner hadn’t steered Tim wrong - this was a top quality, classic oolong, and Jason was drowning in the multi-dimensional floral notes, dying in the mellow grassy undertones, and coming back to life again in how light and perfectly balanced the combined fragrance was. If it smelled this good, it had to taste amazing.

“-son? Hey, Jason? Did… did I do okay?”

“Wh-what?” Jason blinked down at Tim, who had backed up a step and looked uncertain as he gestured to the tea. “Is… is it okay?”

Jason stared. “No. It’s not.” Tim’s face fell and he blanched. “Holy shit, babybird, no, it’s not okay, it’s so much better than okay, this has to be the best tea I’ve ever held. Jeez, man, you’re two for two with this gift… jeez… I don’t deserve all of this… you seriously outdid yourself, man.”

Tim blinked then broke out into a relieved laugh. “Got lucky, I guess. I thought it smelled interesting, but most of the credit goes to that tea shop guy. I’ll have to let him know his choice went over well.”

“Dude, jeez, give yourself some fucking credit. This is amazing man - the book, the tea - just… thank you. Really. Thank you, Tim.”

“You’re welcome.”

They lapsed into an uncertain silence after that, Jason sealing up the tea carefully and pulling out cord to bind the book closed for the trip home. Tim edged towards the lip of the roof as if he was thinking of taking off immediately now that his objective had been achieved.

“Hey, why don’t you-” Jason started at the same time Tim said “Well, I should really-”

They laughed. “You first,” Tim offered, pulling up his cowl at the same time he pulled out his grapple.

“Tonight’s been pretty slow, and I know you’re not a fan, but you should really try this tea,” Jason suggested. “One sip and you’ll understand how you really knocked it out of the park with this one. I’ve got a place nearby that I was gonna head back to soon, anyway; you should come over and we can try it out.”

Red Robin shifted uncertainly. “Are you sure?” This was the first time he had invited Tim to any of his safehouses, Jason realized, but screw it, Tim probably knew about most of them anyway - he’d already proven he knew about Tim’s when he gave him belated birthday gifts two months ago - and if they were at the stage where Tim cared enough to track him down after over a month to give him gifts of Shakespeare and tea that was worth more than its weight in silver, then it was way past time to give Tim the chance to prove he could be trusted in Jason’s home space.

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

Red Robin still looked uncomfortable, the lines of his body tense and his mouth downturned under the blank stare of his cowl. “I mean, I do have a few things I should follow up on anyway, so maybe…”

“You know what would probably taste like fucking heaven with this tea?” Jason cut in, sending Red a wink as he set down the book so he could get his hood on again. “Marshmallows. Really, Red, we gotta try it; you gotta try it with me. We can run by the mini-mart on the corner and pick up a bag of jumbo-puffed right now. Whaddya say?”

Red paused, then laughed out loud. Jason relaxed as he watched the tension bleed out of Red’s shoulders with the laughter. “Okay, you got me, now I gotta know what that tastes like. Let’s do it,” Red answered with a grin. He turned to face the street. “Lead the way.”

Red Hood pulled out his own grapple with one hand, balanced his new precious book in the other, and stepped up beside Red Robin, lining up his shot. “Try to keep up, Little Red.”

“Will do, Cinnamon-flavored Chewing Gum.”

Jason laughed and together they flew off into the night.

#my writing #christmasriverswrites #mine #jason and tim #jaytim #happy birthday jason #pre-relationship #the beginning of a long series... maybe #slow burn #bad jokes #there are always bad jokes #puns #long text post #long post #stupid read mores have been so stupid on mobile lately #fuck that

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beautifulgiants · 4 years

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https://y105music.com/michael-shannon-interview-frank-and-lola/

MICHAEL SHANNON SAYS ACTING IS ONLY GETTING MORE DIFFICULT, REVEALS HE ALMOST TURNED DOWN ‘BAD BOYS 2’

E. OLIVER WHITNEYDecember 28, 2016

Universal

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Michael Shannon might be the busiest actor of the year. In 2016 he starred in 10 films, including his Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice corpse cameo and two unreleased films from the Tribeca Film Festival. Shannon continued his ongoing collaboration with director Jeff Nichols in Midnight Special and Loving, he played Elvis Presley opposite Kevin Spacey’s President Nixon, portrayed a hilarious Texas sheriff in Tom Ford’s Nocturnal Animals, and reunited with Werner Herzog for Salt and Fire. And after all that, he even found time to put together the best red carpet outfit of all time.

Shannon works so much that when I sat down to talk with him last month, he’d just gotten off a red eye from Toronto after wrapping one of his five films expected out next year. In his latest and final release of 2016, Shannon plays Frank, a Las Vegas chef who falls for a woman with a mysterious past. Frank & Lola begins as a quiet romance between Frank and Imogen Poots’ Lola before switching to a tense psychosexual drama about jealousy and betrayal.

This Day In History

The actor told me about filming Frank & Lola back-to-back with Elvis & Nixon, an experience he called “pretty f–king weird,” and why he almost turned down his role in Bad Boys 2. Shannon also revealed he doesn't like being photographed and said, despite his 24 years of experience and overflowing resume, acting has become more difficult for him over time.

You’ve been in so many films this year and played a lot of intense, energetic characters, from Nocturnal Animals to Midnight Special and Elvis and Nixon. In Frank & Lola your character feels much more stripped down and naturalistic.

Yeah. Well look, at the end of they day, he’s a cook, you know? That’s what he is. And from what I’ve seen their primary focus is food, making food. So they don’t necessarily have to be super verbal you know? I mean, it’s a hard life. It’s a hard job.

Were you familiar with a chef’s lifestyle before this film?

Just to the the extent that I had worked in some restaurants and I spent some time with a friend of Matt [Ross’], the director, who’s a very successful chef, and he kind of showed me the ropes. It’s not like I’m a complete and total expert on it, but I’ve certainly been around it.

There’s a relatable vulnerability and human quality to Frank and his jealousy that I don't think is reflected as much in the louder characters you’ve played. Did you understand him more as an everyday kind of guy rather than compared to the big personalities you've played?

I don’t know. I feel like all my characters are human beings. I’m not playing, like, a minotaur or something. They’re all people. They’re different people, and they operate differently and they think differently.

So it’s hard for me to answer that question I guess. I’m always approaching any part I play as an inquiry into the identity of the character, whoever they happen to be. But I guess maybe what you’re thinking or saying is that he’s not a tremendously complicated person, which is probably true.

Universal

He is a very simple guy.

Yeah, so maybe that’s what you’re responding to. I mean, he’s very pure. He loves cooking and he loves Lola. It’s very simple, and then he gets hurt and then he flips out.

That response can easily be sensationalized or hyperbolic in movies, but the ways you reacted with jealousy and suspicion in this film are more subtle.

Well that’s good to hear. It’s always hard for me to comment on that because I’m not in the audience, you know? I can’t say, yeah I was so subtle in that movie. It’s just not my prerogative I guess. I just show up and do the work.

Do you watch your films later?

Oh yeah, I watch ’em. I saw this movie and I don’t have any problem. I’m always curious to see how they turned out because you know the work is very hard. I think it’s a lot harder than most people realize. Every shot is a battle. I mean this movie, we shot it very quickly. Imogen [Poots] and I, we had a real natural kind of chemistry, which is weird because I didn’t know her from Adam before we started shooting the movie. We shot that part in Vegas in like, three weeks. Which is crazy. We shot all the Paris stuff in one week, which was even crazier. So maybe it’s like Japanese sand painting or something, you just do it really fast.

When you say every movie is difficult, is it the same for you when shooting indie movies compared to big studio movies? Is it still the same level of difficulty?

Honestly the weird thing about acting, for me anyway, maybe it’s different for other people, I find the longer I do it the more difficult it gets. I feel like any human being on earth could probably be in a movie. I saw American Honey recently and the girl, Sasha Lane, she’s great. But could she play Ophelia? Can you keep showing up and doing it over and over and over again, and every time you show up you’re supposed to be somebody else? You feel like you’re going to run out of possibilities.

That’s the way I look at it. I’m trying to create a whole different person each time. So, it’s like excavating yourself. I just finished a movie last night in Toronto. It was very hard. But also, I think the harder it is usually the more likelihood that it’ll be worthwhile to see it, to watch it because it shouldn’t be easy. It should not be easy to make a great movie, and it isn’t.

Is there a role that’s been the hardest for you?

They’re all difficult. Honestly, playing Elvis was a very demanding thing to do. It took me a long time to wrap my head around that. But eventually I started having fun with it once I got on the set and settled down a little bit.

It’s hard to stand in front of a camera. I don’t really like having my picture taken to begin with. People are always like, “Can I take a picture?” I’m like, “No. I don’t want to.” Then I realize how absurd that is because I’m getting it taken 24 frames-per-second at work. But it’s a very unnatural thing, you know?

I read you shot Elvis and Nixon in Vegas right before Frank & Lola. What was that like making those back-to-back?

No, I shot it in New Orleans. What happened was, we shot the Vegas part of Frank & Lola for like three weeks. And then I went to New Orleans and shot Elvis and Nixon. And then after that we went to Paris and did that part of Frank & Lola in Paris. So that was very trippy. That was pretty f–king weird.

Bleecker Street

What was it like to navigate between those two?

It was surprising. I was surprised when I got to Paris how quickly I clicked back into it. Because I had really been just eating, breathing, sleeping Elvis all the time for five weeks. So I was a little anxious, like what if I don’t remember what my voice sounds like or whatever. But the second we got over there and plugged back into the story, I was like “Oh yeah...” It wasn’t as difficult as I anticipated it was going to be.

You bring a lot of humor to Nocturnal Animals. The scene in the police station with Karl Glusman is so great. Was any of that improv or was it all in Tom Ford’s script?

The owl [scene], I think I had said that out of my imagination. But it was mostly the script. Tom worked really hard on that script. It’s based on a book. Tony and Susan. Tom is pretty meticulous guy and filmmaker. We pretty much stuck to the script. There’d be a little thing here or there. There was some – well see, I don’t like to say. It’s a secret.

Nocturnal Animals Movie CLIP - The Interrogation (2016) - Jake Gyllenhaal Movie

I love that character. It’s my favorite of yours from this year.

I love Bobby. He’s a cool dude. He’s a good fellow, he’s very sweet. He’s kind of a curmudgeon, but very sweet because he really cares. He winds up caring about Jake [Gyllenhaal’s] character in spite of himself. He doesn’t want to, he really doesn’t want to and he can’t help it.

I enjoyed you in Loving. I read that you shot that part in one day.

Yeah, it was totally manageable. It wasn’t like we were rushing around. It made sense. It would have been silly for it to take longer. I was sad I didn’t get to spend more time on that set. I always like being around Jeff and Joel [Edgerton]. I really liked Ruth [Negga] a lot.

She’s great in that.

I hope she gets nominated. And Joel, and Jeff.

Last question, has there ever been a role you hesitated taking or that you needed convincing to take?

Oh yeah. [Laughs] There’s been a few. I remember when I got the offer for Bad Boys 2 to play that silly man in the KKK. I read the material and I thought, “This is humiliating. I don’t want to do this.” But my manger at the time said, “Michael you can’t pass this up. This is one of the biggest franchises in the world. This movie will make half a billion dollars at the very least and everybody on Earth is going to see it.” I’m like, “Yeah but then they’re gonna see me wearing a white robe.” So I was really on the fence about it. But it was all in good fun at the end of the day. The fact that it was so silly made it very clear that I was not a role model in any way shape or form.

Read More: Michael Shannon Reflects on ‘Frank and Lola’ and His Busy 2016 | https://y105music.com/michael-shannon-interview-frank-and-lola/?utm_source=tsmclip&utm_medium=referral

#michael shannon #interview #frank and lola #quotes #beautiful giant

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