#i was crazy about tchaikovsky as a kid | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

reikoackerman · 2 years

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Happy Birthday, Rei

Characters: Levi x Rei (Me)

Genre: Modern!au

Warnings: Smut. Yes I've gone overboard and delusional. Soft birthday sex (I'm w e a k). Extremely extremely EXTREMELY self-indulgent and probably very cringy. Also this isn't following any specific time line. The four kids aren't here xD

Word count: 4.7k (yes I am that crazy, forgive me)

A/N: Yes you all it's my birthday so let me fantasise about having a soft session of making love with Levi okay????? Also @mrscommandersmith and @hashaneeee I only have you two to blame for making me write this extremely embarrassing and indulgent thing. Also, Levi's outfit is inspired by this amazing fanart <3

Also there's a few songs I listened on repeat while brewing this smut lmao so uhh; Versace on the Floor - Bruno Mars // Be Your Everything - Boys Like Girls // Baby Good Night - GD&TOP // I'll Make Love To You - Boyz II Men // A.D.T.O.Y.(하.니.뿐.) - 2PM // You're My - Taeyang // Lullaby - BEAST

Today was the third of March, and also my birthday.

Levi booked a suite in a fancy five-star hotel for the occasion even though I told him not to. I wanted to scold him for splurging on unnecessary things, but Levi said he wanted to pamper me since it was my birthday. I relented and eventually, we packed our bags for a short staycation at the hotel.

We had breakfast in the hotel and set off to our first destination. Levi brought me flower viewing at the botanic garden. It was springtime and the flowers were all in bloom. We took lots of amazing photos and also had people take photos for us. We also had our photos taken and developed by their souvenir stand, and Levi bought them at the counter. He bought a photo frame to place in our room, and another in the shape of a crystal ball for his desk. We had lunch at the nearby mall and caught a movie too. We also had dessert at the ice cream parlour where I wanted to have waffles and ice cream. I asked Levi where my birthday cake was and he kept saying ‘later’.

For my birthday dinner, Levi brought me out for steak. I wore a sapphire halter neck dress that accentuated my shoulders, bringing along a light grey scarf. I tied my hair into a low ponytail while he styled his fringe up. Levi wore a charcoal grey three-piece suit and he wore a black necktie too. Levi even wore a long black coat even though it wasn’t that cold outside. Who was he trying to look good for? I frowned.

“Really, amour. Leather gloves?” I cocked my eyebrow as I finished applying my mascara.

“It’s unsanitary outside,” Levi simply said as he styled his hair into a messy backcomb. As I put on my lipstick, Levi was already wearing his socks. “You should bring your leather jacket, you know. Then you can match me.” Levi told me as he slipped on his polished shoes.

“Fine, fine.” I rolled my eyes and laughed as I went to find a jacket instead since Levi did say the restaurant was cold. When we reached the restaurant, Levi suddenly took out a stalk of red rose from nowhere and gave it to me. I bit my lip and smiled at Levi shyly, suddenly feeling weak in the knees.

“Is that why you’re wearing that coat when you obviously don’t need it?” I chuckled as Levi pulled out the seat for me. Levi merely shrugged and told me to order my food.

We had a splendid dinner, the view from the restaurant was astounding. We had a panoramic view of the city and the night lights were stunning. The food and ambience were fantastic too, Levi’s ribeye was cooked to perfection and my striploin was tender and fragrant. The wine that the sommelier picked for us complimented our meals as well. Tchaikovsky's Rêverie du soir in G minor played in the background by a live pianist. I caught Levi looking at me while I was having my food, and when he realised it, he winked at me instead. I felt my heart leap to my throat, feeling utterly surprised by Levi’s act.

My second surprise came in the form of a blackforest cake which was my absolute favourite. Levi then said he was saving the best for the last. Just as I thought the day couldn’t be more perfect, Levi brought me to the rooftop garden of the hotel to stargaze. From high up, the stars seemed so close and within our reach. The cloudless sky was littered with countless stars, and the absence of the moon made the stars sparkle brighter.

“So beautiful.” I muttered, unable to take my eyes off the scenic view. The more I look, the more stars I see. They seemed impossible to count. Levi was silent, his eyes were dazed. Hugging my waist, he looked at me with a smile on his face.

“You’re more beautiful, mon cœur.” Levi softly said. I felt my heart throbbing and heat crept up my cheeks. It was a good thing the surrounding was dim because I know how bad of a blushing mess I have become.

“W-what?”

“Tch, you've been with me for so long. Can’t take a little praise?” Levi teased, placing his hand behind the small of my back. He guided me to the lift. Looks like we’re going back to our suite.

“N-no, it’s… unexpected.” The lift door opened and we stepped in, pressing the button for the 50th floor. Once we reached, we slowly walked back and Levi opened the door to our suite.

“Then maybe I should praise you more.” Levi whispered into my ear and I felt my heart leap to my throat again. Why does he keep saying things like this? We removed our shoes and Levi handed over his coat to me and disappeared somewhere while I went to pour two glasses of water from the kettle. Returning back to our bedroom, I hung up his coat and my jacket, sat by the dressing table and removed my earrings. I wanted to unzip my dress but it got stuck with the hair on my nape.

“Amour,” I called out. He was still nowhere in sight. Weird. He wasn’t in the bathroom either. “Amour? Levi?” I called his name again, walking to the bedroom door.

“Happy birthday, Rei.” Levi appeared in front of me with a bouquet of sunflowers so huge it looked bigger than Levi himself. I was pleasantly stunned, unsure of how to react. They were my favourite flower. I gladly accepted the bouquet, looking up at Levi. He told me to stand by the window of the balcony so that he could take a photo of me with the bouquet.

“How did you hide them? They’re so huge.” I had to hug the bouquet with both hands while I stood by the windows. Levi merely shrugged and told me to smile.

“Come here, amour.” I urged him to come over and take some photos with me. It was hard capturing nice photos because the bouquet was too big and occupied most of the space in the photo. It was hilarious, seeing Levi and me looking so tiny next to the bouquet. Placing the bouquet down on a small sofa, Levi stood by the table looking like he had a lot to say. He took a remote control on the table and pressed some buttons. Just then, the curtains in the room closed, and the lights dimmed.

“I-I didn’t know what to get you,” Levi stuttered, sticking one hand into his pocket and the other hand loosening his tie, “it feels like you already have everything and anything, and you’re lacking nothing in your life.” I closed the distance between us, staring deep into his steely grey eyes.

“The reason why I have everything and anything is that I have you. You’re my everything, Levi, and I’m nothing without you.” I held his hand and gave him a smile. “You don’t have to get me anything, because you’re all I need.” It sounded cheesy, but it’s the truth. Levi completes me and he’s all that I can ever ask for. Levi took a step closer and now we’re standing almost face to face. Excitement bubbled deep inside me, anticipating what Levi would say and do next.

“Instead of giving you something tangible, I’ve decided to give you a memory instead,” Levi raised his hand and stroked my hair, using the same hand to softly cup my cheek, “a memory of us that you will never forget.” With that, Levi gently pulled me closer to give me a tender kiss on my lips. One hand remained on my cheek while Levi’s other hand wrapped around my waist to pull me closer to him. My hands snaked up Levi’s chest, interlocking behind his neck and pulling him even closer. Levi’s tongue prodded against my lip and I gladly welcomed him, our tongues dancing together in perfect harmony. The room was silent except for the sound of our wet kisses and heavy breathing. It was starting to get cold, but Levi felt so warm and too hot for comfort. Levi’s hand on my waist started going higher and higher up my back. He tugged on the elastic band on my hair, letting it cascade down my back. As he slowly pulled my zipper down, I removed Levi’s jacket, contemplating if I should drop it on the floor.

“Leave it.” Levi muttered next to my ear. I dropped his jacket and started unbuttoning his vest to throw it on the floor as well.

“Why did you have to wear so many layers?” I complained as I removed Levi’s necktie, letting it join the pile of clothes on the floor. Levi pulled me in for another passionate kiss, prying my dress off my shoulders and letting it fall on the ground.

“Hm, so that you can have fun undressing me.” Muttering against my lips, we briefly disconnected from our kiss to look at each other.

Levi had red smudges on his lips from my lipstick, and his cheeks were flushed. We’ve only been kissing for what felt like five minutes but those kisses got me panting for breath. Stepping out of my dress, our eyes locked on each other as I unbuttoned Levi’s shirt slowly, tracing his muscles with my finger. Levi cupped my cheek and kissed me harder, moaning into the kiss as I locked my arms behind his neck and jumped on him, interlocking my ankles behind his back. Levi walked towards the mattress and put me down gently, throwing his shirt somewhere.

“So beautiful,” Levi muttered as he trapped me with his body, his hands grabbing mine and keeping them above my head, “and all mine.” Leaning his forehead against mine, our lips met again in another urgent kiss. I rubbed my thighs together, squirming around to dissipate the wetness gathering around my core.

Levi broke the kiss and peppered kisses to my neck, nuzzling his head between my nape and shoulder. Pressing a kiss beneath my ear, I let out a soft moan as I tilted my head to give Levi more access. Levi released my hands and caressed my cheek while he nibbled on my neck and continued to kiss me slowly and sensually down my clothed chest. Levi bit and gently sucked on the skin above my left breast, leaving a hickey right where my heart would be. Crying out a small whine of delight, I squirmed again and my knee brushed against Levi’s crotch.

“Arch your back for me, baby.” Levi coaxed as his hands reached to my back. I obediently listened and he swiftly removed my strapless bra, my bare chest in full glory. Kissing his way slowly down my chest, Levi took a hardened nipple in his mouth, teasing the little bud with his tongue. A mewl of pleasure escaped my lips as I gently stroked Levi’s hair, watching him have fun circling my nipple with his tongue. Levi rested his right cheek on my chest and looked up at me. He noticed I was watching him, and Levi stopped everything he was doing to smile at me instead. At that moment when our eyes connected, I felt heat creep up my cheeks again, a sudden wave of bashfulness causing me to bite my lower lip. Levi chucked and latched onto my nipple once more.

“Ahh! Amour—” my breath got stuck in my throat as Levi sucked on my sensitive nipple, his tongue flicking and circling it non-stop. Levi took his time, using his tongue to slowly play with the nipple in his mouth while the other hand massaged my breast. His fingers gently pinched and tugged at the hardened bud while my fingers now threaded themselves in Levi’s soft ebony hair. Within seconds I became a whining mess, my wet pussy throbbing with want and need. Once he had his fun, Levi released my nipple with a soft ‘pop’ before slowly kissing his way to my other breast, each soft kiss eliciting a moan from my lips. Giving both breasts the attention they deserved, Levi continued to lick and suck on the perky nub, driving my senses up the wall and making me feel closer to my release. I covered my mouth to hide my gradually increasing voice. I didn’t want to ruin the mood with my nasty voice and weird pants. Levi however was thinking otherwise and pulled my hand away.

"Let me hear your voice, mon cœur, don’t hide it from me.” He chimed softly while looking at me. My face flushed red with embarrassment, Levi’s words igniting a burning want in me. I cupped his cheek and I meekly nodded. “I want to hear those beautiful moans coming from your pretty lips.” Levi kissed my palm before going back down on my breast again.

As he finished lavishing on my chest, Levi kissed his way down my stomach, stopping on top of the waistband of my silk panties. Sitting on the carpeted floor, he eyed me as though he was asking for permission. I lifted my butt from the mattress and Levi swiftly pulled my panties down with his teeth without looking away from me. I swear he needs to stop doing this, for every moment he spends looking at me only makes me want and crave him even more. It left my mouth feeling dry and made my heart tremble. Levi placed both my legs on his shoulders and stroked my thigh, fingertips lightly tracing every mole and scar on my skin.

Lying on the bed naked and strangely feeling very exposed, I clamped my thighs around Levi’s head as he bit on my inner thigh, feeling me squirm once more. I could feel how wet I was down south, and Levi could definitely see it too. I tried to close my legs out of embarrassment, yet Levi’s hold on my thighs kept them open. Levi sensually kissed my inner thighs from my knee all the way up, not forgetting to leave tiny purple hickeys along the way. As he kissed every inch of skin his lips could reach, I could only pant and moan and let Levi do whatever he wanted to me. I wanted to touch him too, to leave bite marks across his body, to him with my own hands. Yet, all Levi kept saying was that he will take care of me tonight.

“Mmm, I’ll make tonight the best night you can remember.” Levi smiled as he left a featherlight kiss on my clit. I let out a mewl of pleasure as Levi kept kissing my outer lips softly, taking his own sweet time to slowly lick my cunt from the bottom up. I couldn’t control myself any longer. I tried to sound demure to mask my moans. Yet with Levi’s touches and skillful tongue, there was no way I could hold it in. The coil in my belly started tightening and my toes started feeling ticklish. My chest heaved with every breath I took and my moans got louder as time passed. Levi knew how much I loved it when he went down on me like this, and he knew exactly what to do to push me over my limits.

“That’s it, baby, I wanna hear you out loud.” Levi peeked at me while his lips were still on my cunt doing wonders. His skillful tongue was drawing circles on my clit while he interlocked his fingers with mine, his thumb stroking my knuckles. As Levi continued to suck on my clit, my fingers found their way back to Levi’s hair again. I gently scratched his scalp as he tickled my clit with his tongue, circling and playing with it using his hot muscle. Another dirty moan escaped my lips as Levi licked up and down my cunt once more. Levi hummed against my soaking entrance, pleased with what he felt was music to his ears. Levi’s hands were on my hips holding me down while his tongue began to circle my clit faster and faster. My moans became sloppier, my breathing became heavier. Likewise, the more incessant my moans were, the faster Levi licked and sucked on my cunt. I couldn’t take it any longer, the pleasure was too good to be true.

“Amour, I-I’m… g-gonn—” the coil in my belly abruptly snapped and I clamped my thighs around Levi hard, my breathing haggard and eyes shut. Levi gave a satisfied groan as he rubbed his hands up and down my thigh and slowly went to cup my butt and lift my hip higher, drinking up all I had to offer. All that clouded my mind was how dizzy I felt, and how Levi made loud slurping noises as he lapped up my essence. As I slowly came down from my high, Levi lowered me back on the mattress and he climbed back up, his body hovering above mine again. We locked eyes and my hand went to cup his cheek.

Levi’s hair was even messier than before, the remnants of him eating me out were evident on his mouth and chin as well. His face was red and sweaty and the dim lights in our room gently illuminated his features. His steely grey eyes which were usually cold and stoic looked at me with so much love and adoration. I stroked his nose bridge with my finger and swiped my thumb across his lips. I don’t know why I had a sudden urge to kiss him. I swiftly pulled Levi down and met him halfway, a moan escaping my mouth each time our tongues intertwined. All I could hear was the sound of our wet kisses, the loud beating of my heart, and the sound of Levi removing his belt. Pushing myself upwards, my hands went to Levi’s belt and I unbuckled it instead.

“Let me.” I whispered as I removed his belt, unzipping his pants and pulling it off him. Levi removed them and kicked them off, clad in the boxers I bought him for his birthday. I opened my arms and pulled Levi back to the mattress. For some reason Levi started to tickle me before I could kiss him, his fingers kept attacking my waist and he nuzzled his head near my neck, letting out hot breaths on my skin. Levi tried to nibble my earlobe but I quickly pushed him away, rolling on the mattress to escape his clutches.

“Stop it, amour! No!” I squealed as I jumped off the mattress, running around the bedroom. Levi was a lot faster than I was and he swiftly rugby tackled me on the mattress once more, trapping me beneath him and mercilessly tickling me all over. I laughed out loud, begging Levi to stop torturing me through my endless giggles. Levi seemed to be having fun because he decided to not only tickle my waist but also blow raspberries on my neck too. I was a laughing fit, unable to control my spasms and movements. While laughing, I accidentally kneed Levi loudly in the stomach and he collapsed on top of me with a loud grunt.

“Levi!!! Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry amour, I-I didn’t do it on purpose—” I tried to push him up but his body was like a dead weight on me. “Amour…?” I tapped on his arm only for him to look up at me again with his chin in between my cleavage. “Are you okay?”

“You know, Rei, you have a really lovely smile and a beautiful laugh.” Levi scooted closer to me and his face was just inches away from mine. I was flabbergasted, why was Levi praising me out of nowhere again? Levi picked up a few strands of my hair and twirled it around his finger lazily, ignoring the confused look on my face. “You always try to hide your laughter because you told me you sound like a bird cawing but I beg to differ.” Levi pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead, the tip of my nose, and even under my jaw. That simple gesture made my lower lip quiver and my words got stuck in my throat as Levi sucked on the skin on my neck, whispering sweet nothings next to my ear while removing his boxers.

“I love your eyes. They’re full of vigour and life, and I love staring into them,” Levi kissed my eyelids as he grabbed his shaft and tugged it up and down a few times. “I love your cheeks. They always turn into such a lovely shade of red whenever you’re embarrassed or flustered,” Levi stroked my cheek with his free hand while the other was busy prodding my entrance with his dick. I could feel tears welling up and threatening to spill the more Levi continued to praise me. Without breaking eye contact, Levi entered me slowly while pushing my knees to my chest.

“But the biggest thing I love about you most is your heart, because of all the men in the world you could have chosen, you fell in love with me.” Levi captured my lips in another passionate kiss and I eagerly kissed him back, my hands cupping Levi’s cheeks as he continued to thrust into me at a slow, loving pace. Levi rolled his hip gracefully into me as I weaved my fingers through his hair again, feeling absolutely pampered and loved with his gentle movements. We continued kissing each other, Levi’s breath still had hints of the wine we had for dinner. Breaking the kiss to catch our breaths, I laced my hands behind Levi’s neck as he stared at me again.

“Why do you keep looking at me tonight, amour?” I questioned him before I knew it. It’s not like I dislike it, but Levi has been staring at me a whole lot and I really wanted to know the reason why. Levi looked at me with a blank look before lowering his gaze, unable to control his laughter.

“Why can’t I look at you? I’ll stare at you all day if you allow me to.” I can’t believe we’re actually having this conversation while Levi’s dick is still grinding into me, his rhythm comfortable and easy. I looked away pointedly, unable to hide my smile. No matter how long we’ve been together, Levi really never fails to surprise and fluster me.

“Does that answer your question, you silly girl?” Levi playfully tapped my nose and kissed me once more. Levi’s pace on my cunt was slowly building up in me and fuelling my need. I reached my finger to my clit and circled it, moaning into our kiss. Levi broke the kiss and looked at me again.

“Besides, I want to look at your beautiful face while we’re making love,” Levi pressed our foreheads together and cupped my cheeks, “let me look at your face while I stuff you full of my cum.” At that moment, Levi looked at me like I was the most precious thing in the world. His touches were so delicate and his movements were so graceful. Levi sucked on my nipple once more while I continued to finger myself, feeling my euphoria coming soon. I kept whining and panting, feeling nothing but pleasure and Levi’s dick softly thrusting in me. My toes started to curl, my body started to spasm. Levi sang praises next to my ear and there was only one thing on my mind: Love.

From the day we met until now, Levi never stopped showing his love for me, be it a simple gesture like holding my hand while we were walking, or pampering me with hugs and kisses. Levi was never good at showing people his emotions. Yet with me, Levi always expressed his feelings whenever he could. Tears started forming in my eyes again when I think about how lucky I am to have someone like Levi in my life.

“I love you, Levi.” I blurted out, sensing my orgasm approaching. I quickly blinked my tears away as Levi kissed my cheek. I didn’t want him to see me cry. My finger quickened its pace on my clit while Levi continued to thrust into me slowly, his dick brushing past my sweet spot. I bit my lip again, trying to muffle my moans. My other hand wrapped around Levi’s sturdy back, my fingernails leaving their mark all over his alabaster skin. Levi kissed me again and again, dragging his wet and swollen lips across my jaw.

“Don’t hold back, baby. Let me hear you.” With that, I let out a loud cry and hugged Levi close to me, my hips involuntarily grinding Levi and my walls clenching tight around his dick. Levi continued to pant and grunt as he rolled his hips chasing after his own high. Moments later, Levi let out a gasp as he collapsed on me, panting loudly as I felt his dick throb inside me. I felt so warm inside out. We stayed like this for a while. No words exchanged, just Levi and I with our sweaty bodies and synchronised heartbeats.

“I love you too, Rei,” Levi swept my fringe out of my eye and smiled at me, “more than you ever know.” I gazed at Levi lovingly while he cradled my body and held me up tightly, making sure not to let even a tiny drop of cum land on the sheets. Locking my ankles behind his back, I latched onto Levi like a koala bear hugging a tree. Levi walked us to the bathroom and set me down in the jacuzzi, filling it with water and switching it on. Levi lit a candle and told me he’ll be back after a while. I sank lower into the warm water as Levi wore a bathrobe and went out.

I closed my eyes and was nearly dozing off when I heard Levi singing me a birthday song. When my eyes opened, Levi was holding on to another slice of black forest cake, two champagne flutes and a bottle of champagne. I quickly made a wish and blew out the candles. Levi threw the candle away and removed his bathrobe. Popping the bottle of champagne, Levi joined me in the jacuzzi as he filled both our flutes. Levi handed me one and offered me a toast.

“Happy birthday, mon cœur,” our glasses clanged as we both took a sip, “I hope you like your present.” I beamed at Levi and cuddled close to him, laying down on his chest.

“I love it, amour. Thank you. I’ll burn this memory into my brain and bring it to my grave.” Levi had an arm draped across my shoulder, fingers gently stroking my arm. Laying on Levi’s chest and listening to his strong heartbeat lulled me to sleep.

“Hey, wake up. You still have your cake to eat.” Levi tapped me suddenly and I rubbed my eyes sleepily.

“Can’t I have it for breakfast tomorrow?” I whined, snuggling closer to him. Levi chuckled and pushed me up again.

“Your birthday cake is to be eaten on your birthday.” Levi took the plate and fed me a small slice of cake. I hummed in delight and urged Levi to have a few bites too. We finished the cake and our champagne, and it was time to get out of the jacuzzi to take a proper shower. We then brushed our teeth and took turns blow-drying each other’s hair. While I was doing my skincare routine, Levi went to wash the flutes and plates. Levi came back and fluffed the pillows, lying in bed while waiting for me. I joined him in bed when I was done, switching off all the lights and taking off my silk robe.

“What did you wish for?” Levi hugged me close, kissing my temple. I stuck out my tongue before realising that Levi probably can’t see what I was doing.

“I'm not telling you, Levi. If I tell you what my wish was, then it won’t come true.”

“That’s a whole load of baloney.” Levi complained as he pulled the comforter higher. Pulling me close, my back was snug against his bare chest. Levi’s arms wrapped themselves around my waist while I interlock my fingers with his.

“Bonne nuit, mon cœur,” as Levi pressed a kiss to my shoulder. I hummed a soft “bonne nuit, mon amour” as we closed our eyes, letting the sleepiness take over.

I wish that Levi and I will be happy together until forever ends.

A/N: I am very sorry for the cringe and how disgusting this is omg. Thank you for reading till the end of this embarrassing writing >\\< just... let me enjoy my birthday fantasy lol kthxbye.

#levi x rei #reivi #self-indulgent writing #Y'ALL LET ME DIG A HOLE AND BURY MYSELF INSIDE OMG

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planetcallisto · 3 years

Text

— waltz of the jerk

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: fluff

warnings: typical highschool banter

word count: 1820

A/N: finally got to one of the requests!! Ahh I hope you like it anonie! I really liked writing this one,,,the other request will be out soon too please enjoy!

Competition was your middle name. Jeon was Jungkook’s last name.

You step into class, your bag hanging off one of your shoulders, and realise your music teacher decided to shuffle around your assigned desks today. Funny how they waited until the last week of your last year in highschool to give the students a little bit of time to just have fun. Though, how fun could a competition about playing some nursery rhyme on an instrument with a random partner be? Not too exciting considering you find your name tag on a desk beside him all the way at the back of the class. Mr. Jeon I’m-good-at-everything Jungkook.

By the front of the class sit your two friends, who just happened to be partnered with each other, probably not until they bribed Namjoon, one of the kinder guys in your class, with some chips to switch places. They send you lop-sided smiles and point to the back wall.

“Now’s your chance,” Namjoon whispers to you.

You kick him in the shin and he gasps, sticking his tongue out at you.

Just because Jungkook was always sitting a couple seats away from you in every class, and just because sometimes you found yourself staring at the way his fingers tugged at his uniform’s tie or how you could see more of his tattoos when he rolled his sleeves up to play his guitar didn’t mean you thought of him as anything more than pure competition. Sure, you with your flute and him with his guitar did not put you guys on the same playing field, but it was still fun to push his buttons. You were a band kid and he was a band kid.

Jungkook pushes his large round glasses up his nose as he lifts his gaze from his fingers on the guitar’s fretboard to you. A grin pulls at the side of his lips. It's not the soft kind smile you usually see him wear during class. It's a competitive smirk.

“We meet again,” He breathes, leaning back in the squeaky plastic chair.

You throw your backpack to the ground and place your flute case on your desk, “Did you do this Jeon?”

You don’t look at him as you assemble your flute.

“You think I purposefully put us together?”

You cross your arms and turn to him, watching his grin grow wider, “Yes, I do think you would do that Jeon.”

He scoffs in your face and rests his guitar against the wall behind him. The sleeves of his white uniform dress shirt scrunch just above his elbows as he rests one on the table, with his head leaning on his hand. A strand of wavy hair falls just in front of his eye and skims his jaw line.

“Do you enjoy calling me by my last name? Is Jeon a term of endearment for you?”

Your eyebrows pull together, “You must be insane to think anything I call you would be endearing.”

He reaches up to tuck his hair behind his ear. At the beginning of the school year you overheard him telling his bandmate Jimin how he’d like to grow out his hair to look more like the lead singer of an indie band. Something about the tattoos, the long hair and the double helix ear piercing made you angry, but in a I want to beat his ass for being so attractive sort of way. And all of that manifested itself into really, really heavy flirting, whether you wanted to admit it or not.

“You’re just scared to say my first name,” his free hand presses down on the keys of your flute as you put it down, “because then you’d be admitting I exist.”

“When I kicked your ass at yesterday’s poetry challenge in English, you existed then,” you smirk at him, “you existed in second place that is.”

He pulls his hand back and sits up straight, wiping his hands on his black slacks, “Well, you’re lucky we’re in a group today or else you know for a fact I would’ve beat you.” He scrunches his nose, lifting his arms over his head and stretching them out before grabbing his guitar and resting it on his lap.

“You’re such a conceited asshole,” you mumble, lifting your flute to your lips and blowing a few notes until it’s in tune.

He strums a couple of chords on his guitar, taking a sheet of paper passed down from the row ahead of yours and placing it in the middle of the desk. A scoff leaves his lips, “It looks like you’re going to have to play Waltz of the Flowers with a conceited asshole. Romantic, isn’t it?”

Tchaikovsky is one of your favourite composers, and you’ve heard this piece no less than 100 times. It'll be a breeze for you.

You look over at him, “Romantic? Have you even seen the Nutcracker?”

His fingers quickly tug at the strings of his guitar in tune with Waltz of the Flowers. He goes through half of the song before answering you, “Nope. You wanna watch it with me?”

The familiar grin is plastered on his face, this time it reaches his eyes and for a moment, it feels sincere. But only for a moment.

“Jeon-”

“Jungkook,” he corrects you.

You shake your head, “No. Jeon-”

“Just call me Jungkook.”

Your feet push into the ground and you grit your teeth, “No. I’ll keep calling you Jeon-”

“But my name is Jungkook,” he chuckles.

You take a deep breath, putting your flute down in fear you might snap it in half if he laughs one more time, “Your name is also Jeon isn’t it? Or did you suddenly drop your last name?”

His lips form an “O”, “Look at you being all snarky.”

“Listen Jeon, the teacher is going to call on us in like five-”

“Thought you already knew how to play this piece? Or were you lying to impress me hm?”

Your knuckles turn white as your grasp onto the edges of your chair, “Why would I ever need to impress you?”

He cocks his head to the side, his eyes scanning your face: the way your lips form a pout but your jaw is tense, how your eyebrows are drawn together and your eyes glare at him. He loves driving you up the wall.

“Because I’m your only competition and you’d do anything to get me to go easy on you?” He smiles softly, like he’s just read your mind. His eyes curve into crescents as he giggles watching you stumble over what you’re going to say next.

“God, stop looking at me like that,” you mutter, releasing your death grip on the chair and feeling blood rush back into your fingers.

“God? Thought my name was Jeon.”

You stay silent and look away from him, tugging the music sheet closer to you to quickly study the notes and accents.

He rambles, “So you do think I’m better than you huh? Do you admit I’m your competition? Or would you rather continue to not acknowledge my existence? Because it’s kinda hard for me to ignore yours when all you do is argue with me about why Clair De Lune is Debussy’s best work when clearly…”

In your mind, you’ve already replaced his voice with the notes of Waltz of the Flowers. The strings crescendo as you move to the climax of the piece and you can hear your flute play the quick eighth notes.

“But then you told me that Moonlight Sonata was way way too overhyped and I thought you were crazy because why and how could it ever be overhyped when it's been proven to be one of the most influential-”

Your jaw tenses. His voice cuts through the gentle flute in your mind and all you can hear is him. Is this when you cut him off? Is this the perfect moment to shut him up for the rest of the class? Yes. It is.

You press your hand to your desk and you glare at him, “Oooh you wanna kiss me so bad.”

A mix of fear and confusion flash along his features. His brown eyes go wide and his mouth stays open, but no words come out. Even though the rest of the class is still loud, playing their assortment of pieces, your mind is quiet. All you hear is the dial tone of a phone after someone’s hung up and then silence.

Just as fast as the words left your mouth, and before you can ask him to focus on the task at hand, his lips push against yours, with his tattooed hand gently holding your chin. Slowly, he moves his lips against yours before leaning back into his chair, letting his fingers linger on your chin.

His hand retracts and rests back on the strings of his guitar and he giggles, his nose scrunching and his eyes smiling with the rest of his face, “How did you know I wanted to kiss you?”

He’s relaxed, fingers absentmindedly strumming something on his guitar, tongue dragging across his teeth as his smile grows, his hair falls softly against his cheeks. He doesn’t look away from you, instead following your eyes as you try to think about anything other than how the touch of his hand and the feel of his lips jumbled your entire mind. Every time you heard Waltz of the Flowers play in your mind all you could think of is his stupid smile and the way he so, without any concern for the rest of society, kissed you.

You hate to admit it, “You win, Jeon.”

“Not enough for you to finally call my Jungkook?”

Sweat accumulates on the palms of your hands as your warm touch comes in contact with the cold metal of your flute.

“Will you at least look at me so I know you mean it.”

You can’t help but laugh and rest your eyes back on his. “Not enough to call you…” you clear your throat, “Jungkook.”

“You know,” he fiddles with the stud earrings sitting at the cuff of his ear, “the theatre is putting on their version of the Nutcracker in a few weeks…”

There’s silence between you two. In all your interactions with Jungkook, either he’s rambling, or you’re shouting at him, or vice versa. Never have either of you stopped talking altogether.

He speaks up, “Um, it’d be cool if you came with me to watch it. Only so you can tell me how it doesn’t live up to the original, of course.”

You shove your hand forward and his brows pull up on his forehead, “Deal.” His fingers brush your palm before you close your hand into a fist, “On one condition.”

“What is it?”

Your fingers uncurl and you grab his hand, letting his fingers fold against your palm, “Only if we beat everyone else today.”

He shakes your hand, but doesn’t let go, “Deal.”

#jungkook fluff #jungkook fic #bts #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jeon jeongguk #bts fluff #jungkook oneshot #jungkook one shot #run bts #run jungkook #btsgif #jungkookgif #jungkook gif

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lunar-jimin · 3 years

Text

W H A T A H E A V E N L Y W A Y T O D I E : C H A P T E R I

p a i r i n g : yoongi x fem!reader

r a t i n g : PG-13

g e n r e : college!au, alternate reality, fluff, future smut, future angst, e2l

w o r d c o u n t : 1127

w a r n i n g s : swearing

s e r i e s s u m m a r y : you never thought the quiet boy in the back of the class would be your greatest competition for a prestigious music internship. and who knew he could be so loud?

a/n: hello loves! here’s the first full chapter of what a heavenly way to die. please let me know what you think about it!

| previous chapter | next chapter | series masterlist |

You were sure you were garnering strange looks from the students around you as you sped down the narrow hall but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. You missed the bus and you weren’t ready to be late to class for the first time in four years. A binder of sheet music clutched in one hand and violin case in the other, you wove in and out of clumps of people.

Crashing through the door with seconds to spare, you immediately found your seat and slumped down on the hard wooden chair. Beside you, Winter, a fellow violinist and Duchess of Alyran, raised her eyebrow.

“Missed the bus.”

She nodded before turning back to Namjoon, her ever faithful bodyguard.

You turned back to the front of class, where Professor Oh was scribbling on the chalkboard. Using the sleeve of your shirt, you dabbed the droplets of sweat perched on your brow. There was nothing in the world you hated more than running, and thanks to your missed alarm, you had done more than your fair share of it today.

“Ok, class, before we start back in with Tchaikovsky, I wanted to bring to your attention that applications for the Queen’s Internship for Aspiring Artists are due at the end of October.”

Murmurs broke out across the room. The Queen’s Internship for Aspiring Artists, more commonly known as the Queen’s Musician, was an opportunity for four classical music majors from the Anntonette Royal Academy of the Arts to work with His Majesty’s Orchestra, an internship that generally became a job. It was every musician’s dream, and you were no exception.

“I’m sure I don’t need to tell you the prestige that comes with this internship,” Professor Oh continued, “not to mention the paycheck. Thus I encourage all of you to apply. You can do it online on the royal website, or you can pick up a paper form from me during office hours.”

You glanced at Winter and saw that her eyes were just as afire as yours. Ever since you had picked up your first bow at age five, you had dreamed of sitting as first chair while the richest people in the world danced to your music. It was competitive, no doubt, and only those that were completely and utterly dedicated to the craft succeeded.

Class passed quickly, your mind no longer focused on the strings beneath your fingers, instead you were dreaming of royal ballrooms. As you were leaving, Professor Oh called out after you.

“Are you planning on applying for the Queen’s Internship for Aspiring Artists?”

“Of course.”

“Oh good. I know that I’m not supposed to have opinions on such matters, but I think you stand a good chance of playing with our kingdom’s best musicians by the end of the school year.”

She gave you a fond smile and you were reminded once again of why Oh was your favorite professor. She taught your first theory class Freshman year and you had been working with her ever since.

“I sure hope you’re right. I think I speak for everyone in the music department when I say being in that orchestra is the dream. Your confidence in me means a lot.”

“Of course,” she grins.

“Oh, and I wanted to give you the piece we’re working on next week in my freshman class,” she handed you a piece of sheet music, “I know you’re busy with your senior year and everything, but it would mean the world to me if you drop by. I’ve talked you up quite a bit and the students would be very pleased if you could perform for them.”

“It would be my honor.”

“Very well then, have a good rest of your day.”

“You too Professor Oh.”

You gave her a polite nod, before leaving into the crowded hallway. Trying to fit the sheet music into your binder without dropping your case proved to be quite difficult. It was because of this that you didn’t notice Yoongi until it was too late.

For the second time in as many weeks, you found yourself on your ass, this time with papers flying everywhere.

“Ow, fuck.”

You were happy your ankle was spared, but your ass wasn’t so lucky. You were fully prepared to wake up tomorrow morning with a bruised behind.

“Shit, I’m so sorry.”

It felt like deja vu, Yoongi once again by your side, concern plastered across his face.

“I’m fine Yoongi, although if I don’t act soon, my music may not be.”

Yoongi just then seemed to notice the paper everywhere around you and immediately moved to begin collecting it up. The two of you scurried to gather it all before some stoned freshie fucked it all up.

“So, how you been?”

“Yoongi, you were literally texting me last night.”

Ever since you gave him your number, the two of you found yourselves texting every night for hours on end. In fact, your oversleeping this morning had been the direct result of you and Yoongi’s debate on the greatest composer of the twentieth century which ended somewhere around three in the morning.

“I know, I know. I’m just shitty at small talk.”

He gave you a lopsided grin.

“You seem to do just fine if you can use emojis?”

“Oh, shut up.”

You laughed. Even though it was fairly new, you really enjoyed your friendship with Yoongi. His intellectual humor and passion that rivaled your own made you compatible.

“So Yoongs, are you applying for the Queen’s Musician?”

The two of you had successfully collected your papers and were now loitering on the side of the hallway, waiting for it to clear up.

“You’re kidding right?” he snorted, “Of course I am. I would be a fool not to.”

“That’s true.”

“Are you?”

You looked at him and raised your eyebrow.

“Right Of course you are.”

“I would be a fool not to,” you mock.

“Wouldn’t it be so cool if we both got it?”

“That would be amazing. A miracle.”

“Yeah, it would be.”

“God, I’ve been dreaming about this since I was ten. It’s so crazy that I’m about to apply.”

“Tell me about it. I’ve been dreaming about it since I was five. Lord knows if I’ll even survive the heart attack I’ll have if I get it.”

“You’ll survive, you’ll have to.”

“Thanks for the support.”

“Always.”

The crowd in the hall had died down to a few lingers like yourselves.

“Well, I’ve got to go. I told Daisy and Jungkook I would meet up with them for lunch.”

“Oh well, have fun.”

“Yeah, I will. See you around Yoongs.”

“See ya.”

He smiled, and you were very hopeful that the feeling in your stomach was hunger and not butterflies.

#bts #bts smut #bts fluff #bts angst #yoongi fluff #yoongi angst #yoongi smut #yoongi #college #yoongi college #bts fanfic #yoongi fanfic #what a heavenly way to die

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lovelyirony · 4 years

Text

chilled

December is made up of many things, but warmth has never been one of them for Tony.

December is cold because large houses are drafty and Tony never wears the warm kind of sweaters that are made with love and Christmas is all about commercialization and an awkward family dinner because it’s not like they could go anywhere.

Think of the press.

Think of the fact that Tony knows his family is a complete fucking sham and the only escape he gets is a balcony window with harsh air that clears his lungs and stings through bone.

If he hadn’t made a promise to Jarvis that he would stop smoking then by god a cigarette would feel fantastic in between his two fingers as he looked out at the landscape.

Being wealthy buys property that’s exclusive, probably shouldn’t be as large as it is, and it gives you an incredible feeling of being lonely all the time. And when there is snow softly falling and dampening all of the sound, it makes you go a little bit stir-crazy.

His mother plays Tchaikovsky on the piano. She plays a lot. He used to play when he was eleven and his fingers would move so fast and he’d play it all and his mother would grin but the thing is, he can’t feel the music, right?

People say that when you play an instrument, you should feel it. Tony’s not sure if everyone’s lying to themselves to cover up the feeling that they know they are frauds or if Tony genuinely probably has a problem with himself.

(It’s probably the latter, but when you have a dad who probably has a fear of therapy, you don’t go to said therapy and then you find newer ways to cope that will be unpacked in twenty years when you go to the therapy and your therapist will tell you issues that you sort of knew about but you’re not really thinking about yet. Shit like that.)

Tony stares at drawings. He does this every year and it’s his sort of family tradition except it’s not really a family tradition it’s really his own.

Norman Rockwell. A good artist, one that Tony envies because he draws all of these scenes that convey such a warmth and Tony thinks he read somewhere that he used people that he knew as models for the works and wow. Just wow.

Tony kind of wonders what it would be like if he came home from college and his parents would kiss him on the cheek and his father would clap a hand on his shoulder and ask him about classes.

But that really seems all too much like Leave it to Beaver and on a deeply personal level, Tony finds that show to be domestically terrifying.

Christmas dinner is boring. It always is. Because after Jarvis leaves on Christmas Eve with all of the cooking done (just warm it up in the oven, Sir) then they sit down. Alone.

“Isn’t it lovely that we’re all together?” Mom says, because she’s said that every single year since he was fourteen and learned to drive and was probably out every single week because it was a fucking escape from hell.

“Yes,” Howard says. “But I can feel your attitude from here, Anthony. Straighten up.”

“Got it,” Tony murmurs. “But it’s Tony.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Howard scoffs. “Who in the hell calls you that? Besides the tabloids, which you told us you would stay out of.”

“I have, I got rid of that t-shirt you saw six months ago,” Tony mentions. “And lots of people call me Tony.”

“The people who matter?” Howard asks and Tony hates this question, hates with a burning passion.

“To you? No. To me? Yeah.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?” Howard asks. “Are you saying that business doesn’t matter to you?

Finally. Some fucking excitement. Because Tony knows that while he probably could not tell you Howard’s birthday on any given day or what his favorite song was or whatever it was you were supposed to know about your father, he did know that Howard had a temper that rose to every occasion.

“Don’t be stupid it’s never fit you quite right,” Tony retorts. “You know I care about business and I care about SI. But the board directors you have right now are all in their fifties and sixties like you and you bet your ass that they won’t stay into their late nineties because they have wives to cheat on and yachts to buy to fuck up the coasts.”

“Enough,” Maria interjects. “Enough from both of you. It’s Christmas, we are not having an argument at the dinner table.”

“It’s the only conversation we get all year, why stop now?” Tony taunts.

“To your room. Now!” Howard thunders.

An escape, thank god.

Tony wasn’t sure how much it would take to piss off his parents on a holiday.

He calls Rhodey, who is grateful.

“Holy shit I forgot about how much my family won’t shut up,” Rhodey groans. “How are your parents?”

“Horrible and bad actors, the usual,” Tony says with a shrug. “Jarvis made cream cheese coffee cake this year. I’m seeing how long I can hide it from them. I bet they never find out.”

Rhodey laughs.

“Well listen to the new family gossip of this Christmas...”

Rhodey tells him about an aunt who brought a new boyfriend over and said boyfriend is very disconnected and does not like small children, so obviously he will not last more than another month.

“By the way, Mama has a sweater for you, when are you gonna come get it?” Rhodey asks. “I’m not mailing that shit to you, someone’ll try to sell it.”

“It’s a Mrs. Rhodes’ original, who could blame them? The craftsmanship...” Tony trails off.

Mrs. Rhodes’ sweaters were the stuff of legend. They were also more than half of Tony’s winter wardrobe. They were the ugliest things on the planet, and not even really intentionally ugly, she just made them that way.

They were Tony’s favorite.

“What about now?” Tony asks with a sigh.

“Me, bringing Tony Stark to a family party? Scandal!” Rhodey mocks. “But yeah, let me ask mom.”

There’s a muffled call and Rhodey’s mother asking if it’s really okay with the parents and Tony lies and says that it is because really his parents couldn’t give a shit and he’ll just leave a note.

(Fun story time: when Tony was eight they forgot him at an airport and he was there for fourteen hours before he started to cry and asked to speak to Jarvis, who had called about Tony with Maria, who had said he was having a ball at the pool.

True fucking story.)

So Tony drives in his car to the Rhodes residence, which really isn’t that far. Forty-five minutes.

The street is lined with cars and some family down the street is gawking at Tony’s shiny car that he’s restored himself and maybe he’ll take Rhodey to see it when the crowd thins out.

Rhodey’s family is hushed when Tony enters, although Jeannette laughs, brings him into a hug, and announces to the whole family that,

“Hey everyone! This is Tony, he’s the bastard who steals all of my blackberry jam.”

“Don’t say bastard in front of the kids,” Rhodey retorts. “They might think you’re a bitch or something.”

There’s a round of laughs and just like that Tony slips on his new Christmas sweater, learns that people actually do drink eggnog in the holiday season, and gets into a passionate debate with Uncle Harold about the worst Christmas song ever made.

And for the first time in a long time, Tony feels warm.

#christmas #lovelyirony writes #tony stark #ironhusbands #rhodey #listen rhodey deosn't give a fuck

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urbanenemy · 3 years

Text

3/13 新入荷リスト

APOCALYPSE Teddy / Release ! APOSTROPHE Sad and Blue / I'm a clown BARRY BLUE Miss Hit And Run / Heads In Win, Tails You Loose BARRY BLUE If I Show You I Can Dance / Rosetta Stone BEE Girl don't come / Tired of waiting BILLY Au Temps Des Surprises-Parties / La Leçon De Danse BRAM TCHAIKOVSKY Lullaby Of Broadway / (Who Wants To Be A) Criminal BRAM TCHAIKOVSKY Shall We Dance / Miracle Cure BRIAN JOSEPH FRIEL The Rock And Roll's In Me / Song For Ralph BRINSLEY SCHWARZ Country Girl / Funk Angel BRINSLEY SCHWARZ (What's So Funny 'Bout) Peace Love And Understanding / Ever Since You're Gone CUBA Furtive winks / Valkyrie of love CURE In Between Days / The Exploding Boy DANCER S/T LP DICKIES Paranoid / I'm OK, You're OK DOLLY MIXTURE Been teen / Honky honda / Ernie ball DONKEYS Let's float / Strike talks DORIS JONES Suddenly I'm Alive / Possessed ELVIS COSTELLO Watching The Detectives / Blame It On Caine / Mystery Dance FLYIN' SPIDERZ City boy / I don't wanna go FLYING COLOURS Abstract art / Ape notes FLYS Waikiki beach refugees / We don't mind the rave FLYS 16 Down / Night Creatures / Lois Lane / Today Belongs To Me GEMS Save Your Money / Didn't Like It Anyway HEARTBREAK HEARTBREAK MOTEL LP IAN LLOYD Slip away / Easy money KELLY GROUCUTT Am I A Dreamer / Anything Goes With Me KENNY Fancy Pants / I'm A Winner LABEL RECALLING THE TIMES LP LA'S There she goes / Who Knows / Way Out / Come In, Come Out LEOPARDS Psychedelic boy / If you come back LITTLE GIRLS THANK HEAVEN! LP MARSHALL CRENSHAW Someday, Someway / You're my favourite waste of time MI-SEX Falling In And Out / Round And Round MONTYCOATS You're mistaken / Where are you tonight MOTORS Forget about you / Picturama MUD Tiger Feet / Mr. Bagatelle NUMBERS ADD UP LP PEARLS Guilty / I'll say it over again PINKEES S/T LP PINPOINT THIRD STATE LP PORK DUKES Making bacon / Tight pussy 12" PRETENDERS Kid / Tattoed love boys PRIMITIVES Crash / I'll Stick With You RORY MOON AND THE SILVER STARS Little wondering why / See her now ROUSERS A TREAT OF NEW BEAT LP RUSS BALLARD Here Comes The Hurt / Breakdown SHAUN CASSIDY Do You Believe In Magic / Teen Dream SILLY BOYS WANT YOU ! 12" SLACK ALICE S/T LP SMIRKS To you / New music SQUEEZE Annie get your gun / Spanish guitar STRANGLERS Nice'n sleazy / Shout up STRANGLERS Nuclear Device (The Wizard Of Aus) / Yellowcake UF6 STRIX Q Kan Inte Stanna Kan Inte Gå / Whong-Song T.REX Metal Guru / Lady TOURS Tourist information / You know TREVOR WHITE Crazy kids / Movin' in the right direction V2 Man in the box / When the world isn't there 12" WALKERS Baby Love / Who Is Right, Who Is Wrong WIGANS OVATION After Loving You / People Of The World WISE Tonight, Tonight / Keep on trying V/A IDENTITY PARADE LP

#urbanenemy

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codenamed-queenie · 5 years

Text

Bohemian Rhapsody

No one knows who started it. Stephanie will claim credit whenever the topic’s brought up, but no one can really be sure. Because, really, when you and your caped family all spread out to the far reaches of the city at night, with no way to talk to each other except a group comm link...

Singing over said comms is inevitable.

It started out innocently, enough. Dick and Barbara would hum radio tunes on boring stakeouts, and Bruce would pretend that it bothered him. Then, the two sidekicks got older--and bolder--and started expanding their musical range. By the time the others came around, it wasn’t uncommon on slow nights to hear a quick burst of song lyrics on someone else’s line. Anything ranging from nursery rhymes to hard rock classics. Dick’s Discowing phase scarred everyone, because with the frills and the mullet came an inexplicable obsession with ABBA. Jason fought back with overly loud rounds of ACDC as Tim frantically tried to hum Tchaikovsky to tune out his brothers. The others could only roll their eyes and listen passively to the cacophony.

So really, the night when someone started out with a soft “Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy?” came as no surprise. This particular number had made appearances before.

No. The real surprise was when someone else picked it up. “Caught in a landslide, no escape from re-al-i-teeee...”

And where they left off, yet another Bat started up. “Open your eyes...”

Maybe it was boredom. Maybe there was just a collective frustration stemming from a case involving Victor Fries where the trail had literally gone cold. Maybe the fancy just struck all of the Family members at once. Whatever the reason, that night everyone sang, as they ironically pointed up at the lit batsignal in the cloudy Gotham sky, no matter where they were. “Look up to the skies, and seeeeee....”

And that was the first time they all sang Bohemian Rhapsody together. Bruce included, though to this day, no one really knows why.

After that, it became something of an unspoken tradition. Boring nights were Bohemian Rhapsody nights. The rules were simple. Someone would start it up with the opening lines, and if no one else joined in, everyone would carry out the rest of patrol in silence (or with different musical selections). But the second someone--anyone--else picked up those next few words, the game was afoot. The rules dictated that once two people were singing on the line, everyone had to join in. No choice. No back-outs. If the others don’t hear your voice chime in, you’ll probably wake up the next morning with a Sharpie mustache. Maybe find something with too many legs in your breakfast cereal, or fall victim to a far more sinister prank. (It’s collectively assumed that this was how Bruce and Damian agreed to play along.)

But the kicker? Every Bat can hear the others perfectly, and the collective result actually isn’t half bad. On the comms,

But to everyone else? The only thing they can hear is the Bat in front of them...

For instance:

Poison Ivy is still reeling from the time she was fighting off Batgirl and Spoiler, when suddenly, the purple girl skidded to a halt. She threw her arms out to the sides, tipped back her head and belted, “I’m just a poor boy, I need no sympathy!” Then immediately recovered and punched Ivy in the face.

Commissioner Gordon was getting a debrief on a case from Nightwing when suddenly the masked man held up a finger, cocked his head, then grinned as wide as a cheshire cat. It was unnerving. It was unsettling. But what followed was even more so.

“Is everything alright?” Gordon asked cautiously. Nightwing’s only response was to bellow out a loud, “~Easy come~!”

Gordon took a step back, stuttering, “Um. S-son? What’s--”

“~Little high~!”

“I-I...don’t doubt that.”

If only the Commissioner knew that on the other side of the city, his daughter was perched behind her computer system singing softly, “Easy go...little low...” Softly, since she’s on the Birds of Prey group line as well. It isn’t the first time this has happened, but her girls still don’t understand why their leader will randomly start singing in the middle of conversations.

Bullock once called Batman in a panic. “Your boy’s danglin’ off the edge of a roof, Bats! And the stuff he’s sayin’--”

Bruce could only sigh, “I’m sure it’s alright, Harvey.”

“Not hard to hear, he’s practically screamin;...uh, somethin’ about ‘his time has come’ and a shiverin’ spine...and ‘leavin’ you all behind to face the truth’. Aw, geez, Bats. Now he’s on about how he wishes he’d never been born at all.”

“Red Robin’s fine, Bullock.”

“You sure? He could be on another one’a his coffee benders or somethin’. The kid’s always worried me, Bats. This time he could be--”

“He’s fine.”

And Hugo Strange was almost tempted to check himself into his own facility when he saw Robin leaping amidst a hoard of angry Arkham inmates, all the while groaning out in staccato monotone, “I’m just a poor boy, no-bod-y loves me.” The girl calling herself Bluebird, who was fighting nearby, dropped everything to point at the small boy and bellow, “He’s just a poor boy, from a poor family! Spare him his life from this monstrosity!” Little did he know that every other Bat in the city was belting out the same line, scaring pedestrians and police officers alike.

During an interrogation, a mob boss couldn’t believe his eyes when the Red Hood--leering above him with a fist full of his shirt--suddenly stopped dead in his tracks. Tilted his head as if listening to a thousand voices in that crazy head of his. Then he lowered the gun pressed to the man’s temple and groaned.

“Seriously? Now? You guys!”

Then, with a sigh, he added in haunting falsetto, “Easy come, easy go, will you let me go?” The mobster’s jaw dropped as he proceeded to watch the schizo in front of him bark out several ‘let him go’s and ‘let me go’s successively, as if singing along with the demons in his head. (The poor man didn’t know the half of it.)

And Jonathan Crane still has nightmares about the night he was squaring off against the Dark Knight himself. The Batman’s fist was poised over Scarecrow’s face when there was a pause, and annoyed huff from the man above him, then, a softly hesitant,

“Scaramouch, Scaramouch, will you do the fandango?”

The mere thought has haunted Crane ever since.

Not to mention Bane’s confusion at seeing the Batwoman and the Signal lobby back and forth as they got in hits and kicks,

“Galileo!” “Galileo!” “Galileo!” “Galileo! “Galileo FIGARO!” Signal took the high notes. Batwoman’s voice dropped very low for the rest.

Sometimes, a family member will have to whisper the words, instead of singing. This was declared ‘allowed’ after the incident where Tim was hiding in an air duct above a gang meeting. His turn came and all that could be heard on the line was,

“Thunderbolts and lightning! Very very fright-ning m-AAGGGHHH!” Followed by the barrage of gushots as a dozen gang members whipped out their pistols and began shooting at the ceiling.

He was lucky. Only a few small scrapes. But after that, whispering was permitted. As was saying ‘not clear’ if one was in a dangerous situation.

The only other rule is that every Bat must chime in together at certain points. But everyone’s favorite part is just after Jason, Dick and Bruce go on their back-and-forth ‘we will not let you go’ ‘let him go’ tirade.

Namely? The guitar solo.

Years of acapella over the comms have trained the Batfamily well. Some of them really get into it, pretending to strum air guitars, others only make the noises, (much to the confusion and terror of any non-Bat in the vicinity). Tim and Stephanie pick up the next few words, before finally, the mass rendition sobers a little. Things calm down. Usually, Nightwing or Red Hood can be found doing dramatic poses on rooftops as they pretend to be all angsty and brooding. (They’re not doing their best Bruce and Tim impressions...not at all...)

When the song ends with Cass gently singing out the last few words, Gotham City breathes a collective sigh of relief, and the Bats continue on their patrol as if nothing ever happened. As if nothing really matters...

(Feel free to add on!)

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tayterchips · 4 years

Text

I was tagged by @shesailsships to answer 3 facts about myself and pass it on to 7 others. Thank you! ♥︎

I’m boring so sorry in advance ✌🏼

So.....here we go.

I love to dance. (Alone.) I’m not good at it, but it’s my favorite thing to do. I wanted to be a ballerina when I was a kid.

I listen to every genre of music. I’m not picky. Of course I like some genres more than others. My playlist is crazy it can go from Tchaikovsky to Suicide Silence and back down to Monsta X or Andrea Bocelli in a heartbeat. ♡

J’apprends le français. ☀︎

I am trying to learn French. And one day I hope to be fluent ♥︎

@freakishfangirl24 @la-galaxie-langblr @radiowrites @great-godpotato-akane @seoulsborne123 @requi-escence @harryshumjrdaddario

#thankyou #♥︎

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arcadialedger · 5 years

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As promised-- 100 things about admin

1. I am really, really short. 4′10 short.

2. Books are my favorite thing in the world-- I am a die hard bookworm, collect them endlessly, read about 3 a week.

3. I had spinal surgery for scoliosis and have Turner’s Syndrome, a chromosomal disorder

4. ASPIRING AUTHOR!

5. I’ve got big blue eyes

6. Harry Potter is one of the most important things in my life, and literally my childhood. It is my heart, and it is home.

7. I have lived in 10 different houses, because my family loves to move

8. I am a double major in English and Film Studies, hoping to be both an author and work as a creative executive for Walt Disney Animation Studios, or in publishing

9. Boston is my favorite city in America

10. I am very, very Italian- Sicilian. Ciao.

11. Overprotective cat mom, and crazy cat lady

12. I absolutely adore BBC/ PBS television, and anything British: including Victoria, Downton Abbey, Poldark, and more.

13. Astrological sign is Cancer (July 20th)

14. Lifelong Sherlock Holmes nerd. I adored Arthur Conan Doyle’s stories as a child and the friendship between Holmes and Watson is incredibly important to me.

15. Scholar and lover of all fairytales, folklore, myths, and legends.

16. Yo hablo español. ¿Alguien mas?

17. Language and linguistic studies fascinate me. I love both learning languages and language family trees. The story of history is written within them.

18. History buff and nerd.

19. Proud brunette who wishes she was ginger.

20. Youngest sibling of three girls.

21. I just realized I never said my name so hi, my name is Katie.

22. I am a die hard Whovian. Like, huge Doctor Who nerd.

23. INFJ, 4w3 personality.

24. Alongside Harry Potter I grew up with Percy Jackson, which I love wholeheartedly to this day. The nostalgia I feel with that series-- man.

25. My best friend is @shadowqueendiangelo and I love her. We’re platonically married.

26. I love film history and learning about film techniques.

27. Connoisseur of all period fashion.

28. I’m kind of obsessed with red lipstick.

29. Active member of the YA book community.

30. I’m a barista!

31. I am a barista because I love coffee and drink too much of it.

32. Only 19 but my mind is older.

33. Speaking of which, I am a theatre kid, and live for the stage.

34. I love Broadway and musicals.

35. Besides musicals/ Broadway, I was born and raised on country. I also love 80′s rock, and am an absolute classical nerd.

36. Beethoven and Tchaikovsky are my two favorite artists.

37. Shakespeare aficionado and lover.

38. Big Stranger Things fan and 80′s nostalgia junkie.

39. Would live in Victorian England if I could.

40. Proud Christian, of Catholic and Jewish ancestry.

41. Very, very pale.

42. I practically live in preppy dresses and skirts.

43. Self proclaimed hobbit, and LoTR fan/ Tolkien scholar.

44. I suffer from severe OCD.

45. I play the piano.

46. I used to do archery, and was very good. I hope to take it up again.

47. Lifelong New Englander.

48. My favorite color is blue.

49. Huge HTTYD fan-- like, ridiculously obsessed.

50. Jane Eyre is my favorite classic outside of Sherlock Holmes, as well as the works of Austen, The Odyssey/ The Illiad, Little Women Frankenstein, Anne of Greene Gables, Beowulf, The Great Gatsby, and Alice in Wonderland.

51. I LOVE GAME OF THRONES AND A SONG OF ICE AND FIRE.

52. ^Arya Stark is my GIRL^

53. Obsessed with Queen Victoria because she was a short, stout, brunette blue eyes woman like me.

54. I long to travel abroad, and have serious wanderlust

55. I am absolutely obsessed with not only history but culture. I considered going into cultural studies for a long time.

56. Secretly a wannabe historian.

57. I collect coffee mugs.

58. For a Christian I am oddly obsessed with everything pagan and absolutely love Halloween/ Salem culture (us New Englanders have the best Halloweens!)

59. I’m a sketcher and a cartographer!

60. Had a childhood obsession with Pixie Hollow Fairies. Still kind of do.

61. I AM A HUGE DISNERD! I want to work for Disney, and am super passionate about not only their animation, but the history of the company and the parks.

62. I am very passionate about animation as a whole. I adore foreign animation, and anything highly stylized which stretches the reaches of the art form.

63. Guillermo del Torro’s Pan’s Labyrinth is my favorite film, and GdT is one of the all time favorite creators.

64. Avid reader and lover of Agatha Christie.

65. Art museums are one of my favorite places on the planet. They’re cathartic to me, and help my anxiety.

65. I absolutely love the solar system, constellations, astronomy, and astrology.

66. I have a deep connection with the ocean. It is home to me. Not only do I just love everything nautical, I love old maps, seafaring tools, ship wheels and ropes. I’ve been on SO many ship tours it’s ridiculous. The sound of the ocean waves and an endless horizon before me is pure magic.

67. There are few things I adore more than a starry night sky.

68. Other favorite shows not yet mentioned include A Series of Unfortunate Events (first the books then the series), The Umbrella Academy, Merlin, Lost, Reign, Firefly, Battlestar Galactica, Broadchurch and Vikings.

69. Star Wars and MCU fan.

70. I am starting to run out of ideas for this.

71. Middle grade was my golden age of reading, and middle grade books will always have a very special place in my heart.

72. I can best be described as passionate, stubborn, sassy, caring, and complex.

73. I have an incredibly aggressive and confrontational personality. I have been frequently called a chihuahua.

74. I am half blind. My eyesight is awful, I need to update my glasses prescription yearly.

75. Right handed. Boring, I know.

76. I grew up playing soccer/ in a hardcore soccer family, and am now super passionate about fitness and working out. I work out 6 days a week and love it.

77. I love to sleep. Like, a lot.

78. I have to take Vitamin D supplements during the winter or I will pass out often.

79. Favorite foods include: pizza/ any Italian food, any seafood, eggs/ egg sandwiches, burgers, ribs, mac and cheese, dumplings, and grilled chicken. I also love anything corn (including corn bread and muffins), potatoes, and LOVE all fruit besides pineapple.

80. Speaking of which, if you put pineapple on pizza my Italian ass will COME FOR YOU.

81. Ungodly introverted, but also very outgoing and social.

82. I continue to go my therapist mostly because of her dog and she is well aware of this.

83. I just really love animals in general.

84. Koalas are my favorite animal.

85. I tend to stick to canon shipping, and I kind of hate fan fiction. Nothing against it, I just find it stupid.

86. One of my goals in life is to not only visit multiple countries on each continent, but to be at least trilingual.

87. I have crazy long eyelashes, and love to emphasize this with mascara. It’s one of the few features about myself I like.

88. Hopeless romantic who has never had a boyfriend and dreams of falling in love/ having a fairytale romance.

89. I have a stuffed Toothless gifted to me by my best friend-- I feel this is oddly important.

90. My favorite art form (as in literal art, drawing/ painting) is charcoals.

91. I have always felt I would be good at knife throwing and have wanted to learn.

92. Hermione Grander, Belle, Jane Eyre, Hiccup Haddock, Jo March, and Elizabeth Bennett are my heroes.

93. Nicknamed Angsty Yoda. (I really am an angsty Yoda).

94. I’m a big fan of ballets, operas, and arias.

95. I love school. A lot. It’s kind of my element.

96. My dream career (a writer) has stayed the same since I was 3 years old.

97. My favorite Disney animated film, is The Hunchback of Notre Dame. I also love The Lion King, Beauty and the Beast, The Little Mermaid, Tangled, Moana, Sleeping Beauty, Cinderella, Mulan and Hercules.

98. Favorite musicals include: The Hunchback of Notre Dame, Wicked, Les Mis, Into the Woods, Rent, Once on This Island, Phantom of the Opera, Hamilton, The Sound of Music, Anastasia, Hadestown, Bandstand, Cinderella, Singin’ in the Rain, Newsies, Finding Neverland, The King and I, Fiddler on the Roof, Miss Saigon, The Music Man, Beauty and the Beast, Something Rotten, Once, Jesus Christ Superstar, and Sweeney Todd.

99. I live for the deliciously dark and macabre (yet I hate horror?) Guillermo del Toro and Tim Burton are my favorite creators.

100. Friendship is the greatest love in my life, and what I firmly believe to be the most beautiful, raw, powerful, unconditional love in this world.

#tales of arcadia #guillermo del toro #netflix #admin post #admin #admin speaks #about me #learn about me #getting to know me #100 followers #100 facts about me #100 facts about admin #commanding daylight

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thedisneyhub · 6 years

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Get a behind-the-scenes look at Disney's Nutcracker and the Four Realms

Tchaikovsky’s Nutcracker Ballet, based on an 1816 E.T.A. Hoffmann story, is as synonymous with the holidays as Santa Claus and candy canes. Now Disney has given it new life with The Nutcracker and the Four Realms, a big-screen adaptation that centers on Clara’s adventures in an ornate palace and the fanciful lands that surround it. Producer Mark Gordon tells EW that bringing the experience of the ballet to a wider audience was very much a part of why he and Disney wanted to tell the story on movie screens. “It’s such a beloved holiday classic as far as the ballet is concerned,” he says, “and yet how many people have an opportunity to see the ballet?”

Taking inspiration from the worlds and music of the original story and the ballet, Four Realms blows things up to an eye-popping scale. “We did our own version of some of the different visuals that one has seen over the years in some of the classic ballet versions,” says Gordon, while production designer Guy Hendrix Dyas adds, “It was vitally important to try my hardest to fulfill everybody’s vision of what this world would be like if they really saw it outside of a ballet stage setting.”

Dyas says he didn’t want to design settings that were “aesthetically pleasing without any logical backbone,” so he built the world from the ground up and adhered to a strict historical cutoff at the year 1879. “I tried desperately to make a logic to this entire universe, so the 5-year-old me would believe this world,” he says. “I remember as a kid going to see a lot of films and not quite buying into some of these worlds because they weren’t built from the ground up as real societies.”

Constructing a world that would feel tactile and tangible to the audience meant building the majority of the sets and only filling in here and there with CGI. “This is not a green-screen movie,” Gordon says. “We actually built these sets. We wanted the audience to feel the reality and almost have a tactile experience, even though they’re not literally touching it. You can feel the difference between virtual sets and real sets.”

Disney gave EW an exclusive look at the magical four realms and the palace at the heart of it all. Take a look below for more on each of the enchanting sets.

THE PALACE

At the center of the movie is the palace, where the regents of all the realms convene. The castle set, which star Mackenzie Foy (Clara) calls “insane,” boasts a working portcullis and floor-to-ceiling tapestries. Both Gordon and Dyas cite a heavy Russian influence in the design. “[We] veered away from the more traditional fairy castles and chateaus we’ve seen in recent years,” says Dyas. “There’s a strong Russian historical context to The Nutcracker, so it was a very natural aesthetic to start studying architecturally. The child in me looked at some of those gorgeous Russian buildings with all their bright colors and onion-topped towers, and I realized very quickly what I was looking at were heaps of candy and flowers.”

The key to making the palace feel fantastical was to take the Russian historical architecture and add elements like highly saturated colors. “You’re not really sure, looking at some of these buildings, whether they are real palaces or toys in the imagination of a child,” Dyas says.

In the middle of the palace is the throne room, with four corners looking north, south, east, and west, to each of the different realms. As part of ensuring the logic of the world, Dyas assigned specific jobs and responsibilities to each realm.

LAND OF FLOWERS

In this agricultural home to farmers and beekeepers, Dyas turned to Dutch windmills and villages in the south of England to design his floral masterpieces. “There are windmills in the Land of Flowers, and they’re farmers, so there’s the production of flour and wheat, and all the primary functions of a society are done there. We took it seriously and adorned the sets with live flowers,” he notes. “It wasn’t about making the flowers look real; it was about getting the perfume in the air and allowing the performers to really feel the magic of what it must be like to be in a world of flowers.”

For Foy, the Land of Flowers presented a unique challenge to her allergies, but she was still blown away by the design. “There were real flowers on set. And they would have real fruits and vegetables,” she marvels. “It was crazy how much detail was in it. Between takes, I kept going and smelling them because they smelled so good.”

LAND OF SNOWFLAKES

For this realm of politicians, ice producers, and miners, Dyas took inspiration from a famous Swedish ice hotel and 16th-century German villages, transforming that architecture into layers of ice. “The most fun was coming up with their transportation system, which is primarily sleighs with deer,” Dyas recalls. Foy says that walking into elaborate sets like these felt just as magical for her as an actor as it was meant to feel for the character of Clara: “It was like you walked into a new world.”

LAND OF SWEETS

Inspired by the character of the Sugar Plum Fairy (played here by Keira Knightley), this land was built from real candy. “They had to put signs that said, ‘Don’t eat the candy,’” says Foy. “I’m like, ‘I want to eat it now that I know that it’s real!’” Dyas remembers the sets being irresistible temptations for younger members of the cast. “I won’t name names, but one of our younger cast, every time I turned up on set, his cheeks were filled like a hamster,” Dyas jokes. “A lot of [them] didn’t eat their lunch that day.”

Dyas had several inspirations for the brightly colored Land of Sweets, but he admits the first images to spring to mind were of the board game Candy Land. Luckily for Dyas and his strict historical accuracy, lots of contemporary candy has roots in the Victorian era. “Victorians at that time had immersed themselves in the most incredible candy invention you could ever have imagined,” he says. “Most of the candy and sweets that we know today stem from things developed at that time. Whether it be cotton candy or marzipan or refined nougat, chocolate cake, all these things.”

These various confections were employed with ingenuity to craft buildings with real chocolate tile roofs, walls of nougat, and stained-glass windows made of boiled sweets. They make surprisingly good building materials. “The walls of the building are made of nougat, and when you cut through nougat, you see all the nuts and cherries that are in there,” explains Dyas. “That looks wonderful on the sides of the building because it looks like this stonework.” Another key element of this realm was the heaps of steam coming from the buildings and the groups of background actors hard at work making candy to demonstrate that this is the “industrial revolution” portion of the world.

THE FOURTH REALM

Previously known as the Land of Amusements and ruled over by Mother Ginger (Helen Mirren), the Fourth Realm is now a mysterious place, which the creative team will only describe as “creepy.” Gordon does hint that the majority of the story takes place in this realm. Foy adds, “It’s creepy trees and all that kind of stuff, and it was very big and it was beautiful. Those were very, very impressive sets.”

While Dyas won’t go into too much detail, he refers to the Fourth Realm as a “mysterious place” that denizens of the world have been afraid to visit for many years. Prior to becoming this strange place, Dyas says, it was the “fun fair and circus center of the world.”

Both Dyas and Foy note that it was home to some of their largest, most impressive sets, including one Dyas says was so “bizarre and wild” in architecture and silhouette that it attracted members of other productions shooting at London’s Pinewood Studios to ogle it.

Source

#the nutcracker and the four realms #disney #news #super interesting!

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justalittletomfoolery · 5 years

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Music Tag

Thank you for tagging me my lovely Oliver XXX @tiredngaybois

1: A song you like with a colour in the title 99 Red Balloons - Nena

2: A song you like with a number in the title 21st Century Liability - YUNGBLUD

3: A song that reminds you of summertime A-Punk - Vampire Weekend

4: A song that reminds you of someone you would rather forget about

5: A song that needs to be played loud Party Poison - My Chemical Romance

6: A song that makes you want to dance all of them. but, recently, Bang Bang - Jessie J, Ariande Grande, Nicki Minaj (don’t fucking judge me okay its a BOP)

7: A song to drive to umm,, all of them????

8: A song about drugs or alcohol Hallucinogenics - Matt Meason

9: A song that makes you happy Dedicated Follower of Fashion - The Kinks

10: A song that makes you sad Dear Future Historians (London Elektricity Remix) - Enter Shikari

11: A song that you never get tired of Hazy Shade of Winter (feat. Ray Toro) - Gerard Way, Ray Toro

12: A song from your preteen years She’s a Rebel - Green Day

13: One of your favourite 80’s songs don’t make me chooose I’m a fucking SLUT for 80′s music considering it’s basically what i was raised omg okay but We’re Not Gonna Take It - Twisted Sister is amazing

14: A song that you would love played at your wedding How Long Will I Love You - Ellie Goulding or something equally sickly sweet

15: A song that is a cover by another artist Gasoline - Rosegun Vibe (original is Halsey)

16: One of your favourite classical songs uhhh I don’t listen to loads cuz I enjoy songs by belting out the lyrics but Dance Of The Sugar Plum Fairy - Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky

17: A song that you would sing a duet with on karaoke Bohemian Rhapsody - Queen

18: A song from the year that you were born A Thousand Miles - Vanessa Carton

19: A song that reminds you of family Sunrise - Norah Jones

20: A song that keeps you calm/levels you out Ordinary World - Green Day

21: A favourite song with a person’s name in the title Ruby - Kaiser Chiefs

22: A song that motivates you You’re Gonna Go Far, Kid - The Offspring but really any fast paced song that fits with what I’m currently into

23: A song that you think everybody should listen to Tory Is a Four Letter Word - The King Blues (it’s so fucking funny honestly)

24: A song by a band you wish were still together Teenagers - My Chemical Romance

25: A song by an artist no longer living Crazy Little Thing Called Love - Queen

26: A song that makes you want to fall in love Next To Me - Imagine Dragons

27: A song that breaks your heart Fix You - Coldplay

28: A song by an artist with a voice that you love In The End - Black Veil Brides (ik u hate it Oli but omg hiS VOICE)

29: A song that you remember from your childhood Crashed The Wedding - Busted

30: A song that reminds you of yourself Hot Mess - GIRLI

31: A song that makes you feel empowered Teenagers - My Chemical Romance

32: A song perfect for a road-trip Castle On The Hill - Ed Sheeran

Taaaags @flying-roomba @alex--blue @metaphoric-lee @officallyobwestry @batfam-art-main @dead-men-disco

#i could queue this all day #not marvel #not mcu #oli oli oli oi oi oi #tagged

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bethhxrmon · 5 years

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All the even ones!! Love you daughter!! 💖

Love you too mom!

2. what would you name your future kids?

I’m genuinely not sure! If I had a girl it would probably be Louisa because that was my great-grandma’s name and she always sounded like a hoot. I’ve got nooooo clue about a name for a boy tho!4. what are you looking forward to?

I’m going to Europe this summer, so I’m hella hyped for that!!!!6. is it hard for you to get over someone?

Yes! It’s so difficult because I get so attached and comfortable with people.8. have you ever cried because you were so annoyed?

Literally all the time, but I cry over everything sooooooooo whoops!10. are you good at hiding your feelings?

Not really???? Like, I can keep my mouth shut, but I’m terrible at not crying over things.12. what is something you want right now?

To just have time to watch true crime documentaries and read my books!14. when was the last time someone of the opposite sex hugged you?

Good question since my memory’s the size of a goldfish, but if it wasn’t earlier today then it was Sunday?????16. have you ever wanted to tell someone something but you didn’t?

Ooooooh all the mcfreaking time!18. do you miss how things were a year ago?

I miss that I was with my ex, but I also don’t miss being sad over how nat-quals went. So I think I’m chill with how things are rn.20. what is your favourite song at the moment?

Can I say that it’s “Come on Eileen”???? Because that song’s been pumping me up like crazy!22. description of crush.

What if I don’t have a real crush???? Can I describe my cat bc she’s the love of my life??? Because she’s this cute floofy calico baby and is my life!24. height

Five feet!26. idol(s)

Frederick Douglass, Ruth Bader Ginsburg, probably my bois Tchaikovsky, Beethoven, and Mozart????28. i’ll love you if…

You read my writing??? Or any of my favorite books and then talk to me about them and let me scream. Also if you listen to me going off on people even if it’s about dumb stuff and then proceed to not get annoyed at me, that’s always freaking amazing!30. favourite tv show(s)

One Day at a Time, Brooklyn Nine-Nine, and Sex Education was pretty fun too32. are your friends mainly girls or guys?

I feel like it’s pretty evenly split at the moment???? So I’m not sure34. most embarrassing moment

There was this time when I accidentally went into my chaperone’s room and thought it was mine and took a shower and everything and then had to go to my real room??? It’s not that embarrassing but it’s all I can think of rn!36. 3 dreams you want to fulfill?

(1) Become a music therapist (2) Finish at least one of my stories (3) Get at least my BA38. favourite comedian(s)

Ummmm John Mulaney hands down!40. favourite memory

Qualifying to nationals (and learning I was 1st in the whole event)42. favourite book(s)

The Color Purple, Phantom of the Opera, I’m super invested in the Crazy Rich Asians trilogy, and the Harry Potter series44. age you get mistaken for

12 probably46. what my last text message says

“Okay” ooof I’m boring lol48. turn offs

Arrogance, not listening, just overall being a bit of a jerk???50. favourite picture of your idol

Ummmmmm have this link to a wholesome image of my boy Frederick Douglass looking like a snacc52. something i’m talented at

Playing my viola, I guess I’m pretty good at speaking, and I’d say I’m a good writer54. something thats worrying me at the moment

So one of my good guy friends basically took me to lunch a week ago to say he liked me more than a friend??? And I was a little shook bc i don’t wanna hurt him but I genuinely see him as a friend/brother figure??? So I said my default “I’m not dating anyone until college”. And then I found out from one of my friends today that he thought that it means we were gonna start dating when I get to college???????? HELP BC IDK WHAT TO DO AND IT WORRIES ME A LOT56. favourite food(s)

Chocolate, cheeses, FRUIT!!!!!!!!!, also cotton candy ice cream rocks my socks58. description of my best friend

Okay @gaypanda, you ready? This boi is loyal af and is hilarious and smarter than she gives herself credit for. Like my best friend is so ambitious and goal-oriented and has so many plans and they’re all actually freaking amazing???? And she doesn’t realize just how fun she can be and how great it is to just be able to chill and lay around for days on end and just hang out. And don’t even get me started on her cooking! Fucking phenomenal!60. ask me anything you want

You never asked me anything soooooo imma just leave this bad boy blank!

#steph answers stuff #hi mom

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knifeshoeoreofight · 6 years

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“Méditation” ( from Thaïs), Massenet

The first time Sid hears the busker in the subway, he’s running uncharacteristically late. He’s bouncing on his heels a little with nervous energy, craning his neck to watch for the next train. The lack of other people on the platform only serves to make him feel even later and more anxious. And then.

Everything in Sid goes quiet as the first perfect note resonates through the station. He’s never been someone to pay attention to classical music, or street performers for that matter, but the sweet, haunting melody takes hold of him so strongly that his feet feel rooted to the spot.

He turns to look. There’s a man down the platform from him, battered violin case at his feet, the instrument itself tucked under his chin. His eyes are closed and he sways a little with the melody he’s coaxing from his strings. He’s tall, and his huge, careful hands make the violin look delicate and small.

No one is paying him any attention, and Sid can’t fathom how they’re managing it. He can’t look away, and his chest feels tight, like he almost wants to cry. He’s not sure what’s happening, music’s never affected him like this before.

He doesn’t have any cash on him, nothing to give in return for what he’s been given. Instead he stares, and listens, until the man opens dark, warm eyes and smiles at Sid as he continues to play.

Oh.

“Story of My Life”, One Direction

Sid puts some smaller bills in his wallet just in case he sees the busker again. He doesn’t, for a couple days. But come Friday morning, there he is. There’s a gaggle of tweens in the matching backpacks of an out-of-state school trip waiting for the train as well, and Sid sees two girls go up to the busker. He’s fiddling with the doohickeys at the top of his instrument but he smiles warmly at them.

“It’s our friend’s birthday?” one of the girls says hesitantly. “I know it’s like, whatever, but do you know any, like… One Direction?” Her thin shoulders hunch a little as if she’s expecting the busker to laugh or blow her off, like Sid suspects a lot of people have done. He half expects the busker to do the same, especially after that classical piece Sid heard him playing before, but he doesn’t.

“Of course!” he says warmly. “My goddaughters love.” He starts to play, and another girl in the huddled group of students swivels around like a bird dog with a scent, expression comically surprised. Her friends laugh and hug her, and they sway and sing along between fits of giggles. The busker watches them with a look of fond indulgence, until he finishes the song with a flourish and the girls applaud him. Sid, for some reason, finds himself smiling from ear to ear. Something about the little tableau is just. It’s nice, is what it is, and it makes him feel happy to be alive.

When the school group has moved on, he walks up to the busker, who’s fiddling with his instrument again.

“That was really nice of you,” Sid says, and drops a five-dollar bill into the man’s open instrument case. The man looks up, and stares for just a moment before breaking into a smile.

“I see you before?” he asks, and Sid feels his face flush.

“I’m here every morning,” he says, and shrugs.

“Have to look for you, then,” the man tells him, and his grin is...almost flirty. “And is nothing, pop song for little girls. People always make fun of what little girls like. So what? Cute song, sweet. Not hard to play, and look how happy they are.”

Sid’s heart is doing some unapproved fluttering about in his chest. “For sure.”

“Baby Mine,” (from Disney’s Dumbo), various

Sid’s got a cold, and he feels like shit. He woke up feeling morose, lonely, and miserable. He should maybe call in sick, but he has such a hard time justifying it to himself. Is he really that sick? So off to work he goes.

As soon as he makes it down the station steps, he can hear that the busker is back, and something in him feels a little...comforted.

Sure enough, there he is, playing with his typical emotion, a gentle sway with the melody, and that lovely smile of his. There’s a couple standing in front of him, two women holding hands, one of them resting her free hand on the swell of the other’s very pregnant belly. That somehow sparks the recognition in Sid’s brain and he realized that the man is playing the lullaby from Dumbo. The scene in the movie where the baby elephant’s mom sings it to him made Sid cry his eyes out when he’d first seen it as a little kid. He looks at the couple and he listens to the music and he just...aches.

He drops his customary five dollars in the busker’s case when the song is over and the women have left.

“You okay?” the busker asks.

Sid sniffles, a little pathetically. “I’m a little under the weather. That was so beautiful, just now. They looked...so happy.” Oh god, that didn’t come out as yearningly as it sounded in his head, did it?

“Yes,” the busker says. His eyes are so dark and so kind. “But you. Can’t call in sick? Should do. Look really bad.”

“I shouldn’t,” Sid says, but breaks into a hacking coughing fit, and the busker raises a skeptical eyebrow at him. Sid’s shoulders slump. “Okay, maybe I should.”

“Call now,” the busker advices. “Get nice tea from shop on the corner—” he motions upwards. “And go home. Take taxi if is long way.”

“Okay,” Sid says obediently, half wondering why the busker is being so solicitous and half why Sid is listening to his directions.

“My name Evgeni, by the way. Call me Geno” the busker says. “Can blame on me, when call boss.” He grins, tongue caught playfully between his teeth.

“For sure,” Sid says, helpless to do anything but respond to the smile with one of his own. “I’m Sid.

“Nice to meet you, Sid.”

“Free Fallin’”, Tom Petty

There’s a homeless man in the station today, curled into a ball in a nest of grimy blankets and cardboard. He’s eyeing Geno suspiciously as he sets out his instrument case. Geno just nods politely at him, and does his usual warm-up of fiddling with his violin’s strings and tuning pegs.

Sid might have looked violins up on Wikipedia to learn what all the parts were called.

“Hi Sid,” Geno calls out jovilly, before becoming reabsorbed in his instrument.

“Hey,” the homeless man says suddenly to Geno, in a painful cigarette rasp. “You know anything good?”

“Maybe,” Geno replies. “What you like?”

“Tom Petty.”

“Let me see,” Geno says, and digs his phone from his pocket, putting in one earbud and tapping at the screen.

“Mm,” Geno says, after a minute or two of listening with closed eyes. “I like it.” Still listening, he picks up his violin, keeps nodding to the music for a moment or two longer, and starts to play.

Sid recognizes the song, it’s one from his dad’s collection of cassette tapes. He had it out in the garage, a ton of old 70s and 80s music that he’d play while he worked on projects out there.

The homeless man half-hums, half-sings along to the music in a rough, stuttering burr.

Sid slips a twenty in his change cup instead of in Geno’s instrument case.

“I’m give him rest of what I get, if he still here in a few hours,” Geno tells Sid, low.

Sid nods, and leans against the filthy wall to listen, and thinks about being a kid, handing tools to his dad while his dad whistled along to the stereo.

“Piano Concerto No. 1,” Tchaikovsky

It snowed last night, the first of the season, and it always makes Sid feel energized and clean, somehow. He makes his way briskly down the station steps, feeling certain the snow was a good omen and that he’ll see Geno today.

He’s refusing to think about why exactly he’s so let down on mornings when Geno isn’t there and ecstatic on days he is.

Today, he’s there, but something seems odd. Geno is usually irrepressibly cheerful, but this morning his characteristic smile is missing. He’s playing classical today, and it’s beautiful.

He only plays a few more notes to finish out the phrase when he spots Sid.

“Hi, Sid,” he says, and musters up a faint rendition of his usual grin.

“That was gorgeous,” Sid offers, not sure what to say. They make small talk whenever they meet but even calling them acquaintances is stretching it. He doesn’t know if he should say anything.

“Thank you. Concerto supposed to be for piano, but I’m arrange melody for her,” Geno says, patting his instrument gently. He pauses, like he’s deciding something, then continues. “When I’m miss home, play Russian composers most. This one Tchaikovsky.”

“Sorry you’re homesick,” Sid says, aching for him. “I’m not from as far away, but I do have an idea of how it feels. My family’s in Canada. My sister is nine years younger than me and. Yeah. Miss her like crazy.”

Geno’s eyes are soft. “Yeah. Pretty shit,” he says, startling Sid into a laugh.

Sid doesn’t have anything more to say that would make Geno feel better, so he just takes up his customary place against the wall next to him, hoping the proximity will convey some sort of solidarity.

By the time Sid’s train comes in, Geno looks a little better.

“Love Theme, (from Romeo and Juliet), Mancini

Geno’s music today reminds Sid of the first time he ever heard Geno play. The same unbelievable, aching beauty. Geno’s also...looking at Sid a lot, too. It’s too much, the lush, gorgeous melody and Geno’s searching gaze. Sid feels himself flush, feels his pulse beat in his whole body.

He wants— has wanted— for so long now to do something, say something. Ask Geno if he wants to get coffee. Anything. It’s a little crazy, he knows. He barely knows Geno, doesn’t know if he even likes guys, and if he did, if he’d like Sid…

While Sid’s still at war with himself, his train comes in. Geno starts forward like he’d wanted to say something, but Sid loses his nerve and goes to get in the train, giving Geno a weak smile and a wave as he goes.

O Mio Babbino Caro, Giacomo Puccini

The nonprofit Sid works for often sends people to gala events in order to network and make advantageous connections. Sid is absolute shit at it, he feels. He’s stiff, his nerves make him come off as bland as unsalted oatmeal. Mario keeps bringing him along anyway, though.

“Well, Sid,” he says with a laugh whenever Sid complains about it. “You’ve got the best poker face on the team. Can’t trust Letang to hold his cool around all the old-money snobs and trust fund babies.” Which, point.

Sid is nursing his champagne and trying to look interested in what the Vander-whatsit across from him is pontificating about, when a smattering of polite applause from the front of the front of the room draws everyone’s attention.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I have a treat for you tonight,” burbles the diamond dripped woman hosting the gala. “As many of you know, world-renowned young violinist Evgeni Malkin has recently begun his term as artist in residence with the New York Philharmonic, to great acclaim. And we’re lucky to have him here tonight, to give us a little taste of what to expect from his tenure. Please join me in welcoming... Evgeni Malkin!”

Geno. Geno is the one striding across the stage, in a tuxedo and tails, giving a casual wave to the assembled glitterati. Geno, bending to speak to the pianist, and smiling charmingly to the audience.

Geno, putting bow to strings and pulling forth a melody, that, while hauntingly beautiful, makes Sid miss the echo and background noise of the subway.

He stays in a state of shock all throughout the piece, until the last note fades and the audience bursts into applause. It would have been cinematic if maybe Geno would have seen him in the crowd, if their eyes had met in recognition, but Sid’s life isn’t a movie and he’s standing too far away from the stage.

He’s in a daze for the rest of the night, to the point that Mario frowns at him and asks him if he’s well. Sid is giving assurances that he’s fine when the hostess swirls up to them in a cloud of bespoke perfume.

“Mr. Lemieux, how wonderful to see you,” she trills. And that’s when Sid notices that she’s got Geno trailing along behind her.

“Have you met Mr. Malkin?” the hostess goes on to say.

Mario shakes his hand, and gestures Sid forward. “Wonderful to meet you, Mr. Malkin, I’ve heard great things. And this is my colleague—”

“Sid!” Geno blurts, eyes wide. “You here!”

Sid’s hand has somehow been scooped up by Geno’s and he’s not even shaking it, just holding on to Sid like Sid might disappear if Geno lets go.

“And you’re here,” Sid manages. “Not in the subway.”

Geno blushes, but doesn’t let go of Sid’s hand. “Ah, yeah. I’m go there for, relax? Remind me of why I’m love music. Play for people who maybe can’t come to classical concert. Try to make them happy. Donate money to charity if anyone give me. Little bit secret.”

“Oh,” is all Sid can say, feeling like he’s drowning in Geno’s dark eyes and warm grip and in the soft, hopeful expression on his face. “That’s amazing, Geno.”

“Call Me Maybe”, Carly Rae Jepson

“Had such big plans, you know,” Geno says into the curve of Sid’s neck. Sid can feel the way his lips arch into a smile. “Big plans.”

“Oh yeah?” Sid asks, and stretches against his sun-warmed sheets. His gaze catches on the crumpled remains of their evening attire, strewn across Sid’s bedroom floor. “What kind of plans?”

Geno gets up, pressing a kiss to Sid’s forehead. “I’m show you,” he says, and the laughter in his voice makes Sid want to pull him back down and never let go of him. He settles for watching Geno’s glorious ass as he strides from the room.

He returns with his violin in hand. The one Sid has learned is a three-hundred-year-old. multi-million dollar Stradivarius. He puts one knee on the bed and grins devilishly at Sid.

“Special Canadian song, just for you,” he says, and by the time he’s moved from plucking the intro to bowing the first notes of the melody, Sid know exactly what he’s playing.

“Nooo,” Sid groans, and flops back among the pillows. “Please. Why?”

Geno has to stop playing, he’s laughing so hard. “Had to do something! Couldn’t let most beautiful man in New York get away! Was going to give you phone number, ask for date.”

Sid smiles helplessly at him. “Go put that terrifying thing back in its case and come here and kiss me.”

And Geno does.

#sidgeno #sidney crosby/evgeni malkin #hockey rpf #dana writes a thing

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lunar-jimin · 3 years

Text

WHAT A HEAVENLY WAY TO DIE: CHAPTER 1 (THE QUEEN’S MUSICIAN)

Pairing: yoongi x fem!reader

Rating: PG-13

Genre: college!au, alternate reality, fluff, future smut, future angst, e2l

Current Word Count: 1127

Warnings: swearing

Series Summary: You never thought the quiet boy in the back of the class would be your greatest competition for a prestigious music internship. And who knew he could be so loud?

A/N: Hello loves! Here’s the first full chapter of What a Heavenly Way to Die. Please let me know what you think about it! Happy December!

|| Previous Chapter || Next Chapter || Series Masterlist ||

“Missed the bus.”

She nodded before turning back to Namjoon, her ever faithful bodyguard.

“Ok, class, before we start back in with Tchaikovsky, I wanted to bring to your attention that applications for the Queen’s Internship for Aspiring Artists are due at the end of October.”

Class passed quickly, your mind no longer focused on the strings beneath your fingers, instead you were dreaming of royal ballrooms. As you were leaving, Professor Oh called out after you.

“Are you planning on applying for the Queen’s Internship for Aspiring Artists?”

“Of course.”

“Oh good. I know that I’m not supposed to have opinions on such matters, but I think you stand a good chance of playing with our kingdom’s best musicians by the end of the school year.”

She gave you a fond smile and you were reminded once again of why Oh was your favorite professor. She taught your first theory class Freshman year and you had been working with her ever since.

“I sure hope you’re right. I think I speak for everyone in the music department when I say being in that orchestra is the dream. Your confidence in me means a lot.”

“Of course,” she grins.

“It would be my honor.”

“Very well then, have a good rest of your day.”

“You too Professor Oh.”

For the second time in as many weeks, you found yourself on your ass, this time with papers flying everywhere.

“Ow, fuck.”

You were happy your ankle was spared, but your ass wasn’t so lucky. You were fully prepared to wake up tomorrow morning with a bruised behind.

“Shit, I’m so sorry.”

It felt like deja vu, Yoongi once again by your side, concern plastered across his face.

“I’m fine Yoongi, although if I don’t act soon, my music may not be.”

“So, how you been?”

“Yoongi, you were literally texting me last night.”

“I know, I know. I’m just shitty at small talk.”

He gave you a lopsided grin.

“You seem to do just fine if you can use emojis?”

“Oh, shut up.”

You laughed. Even though it was fairly new, you really enjoyed your friendship with Yoongi. His intellectual humor and passion that rivaled your own made you compatible.

“So Yoongs, are you applying for the Queen’s Musician?”

The two of you had successfully collected your papers and were now loitering on the side of the hallway, waiting for it to clear up.

“You’re kidding right?” he snorted, “Of course I am. I would be a fool not to.”

“That’s true.”

“Are you?”

You looked at him and raised your eyebrow.

“Right Of course you are.”

“I would be a fool not to,” you mock.

“Wouldn’t it be so cool if we both got it?”

“That would be amazing. A miracle.”

“Yeah, it would be.”

“God, I’ve been dreaming about this since I was ten. It’s so crazy that I’m about to apply.”

“Tell me about it. I’ve been dreaming about it since I was five. Lord knows if I’ll even survive the heart attack I’ll have if I get it.”

“You’ll survive, you’ll have to.”

“Thanks for the support.”

“Always.”

The crowd in the hall had died down to a few lingers like yourselves.

“Well, I’ve got to go. I told Daisy and Jungkook I would meet up with them for lunch.”

“Oh well, have fun.”

“Yeah, I will. See you around Yoongs.”

“See ya.”

He smiled, and you were very hopeful that the feeling in your stomach was hunger and not butterflies.

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lovelyirony · 5 years

Note

You said to remind you to write something with Vanilla Twilight and Tony

Tony was never much of a child for the science side of space. He didn’t get over the moon excited learning about black holes and interesting facts about planets, but what he did love was Anna’s explanation of the stars and the moons and everything. She told him every story she could, some even made up ones.

She told him during the silent nights, when the only thing that broke the sanctity of it all was nightmares, was that the stars were there for every happy thought you had. Every happy one you had? Another star added up. Tony would try to think happy thoughts, and Anna laughed as he said he was trying to make another constellation, one that isn’t as lame as Cygnus.

“You will one day,” she says.

She tells him about how when she was younger, she wanted to live in the stars. Anna touches her arms lightly, remembering something that Tony would never hear from her. He tells her that he thinks they should remake the constellations with their own stories.

They make one involving Anna and Tony having a picnic. She laughs silently as they look up. He orders a telescope so they can look at the planets to truly decide what name they should have. (The only one they don’t change is Jupiter, but that’s because Tony doesn’t like that one.)

He looks up to the sky and thinks of Anna always. The way her hair barrettes would be decorated in stars. She had a small picture of when Hedy Lamarr was in that movie, the one with her fancy gown.

“She was the best in that movie,” Anna says. “Edwin was fond of Judy Garland, but that’s okay. He’s allowed to have a less refined palette sometimes.”

“I heard that,” Jarvis calls from the kitchen. Anna looks at Tony and giggles.

As he gets older in life, there is less time to look at the stars. People like facts, and Tony has to learn more things about business and economy and stock and he really just doesn’t want to. But that’s the way of the world sometimes, isn’t it? There are many things one does not want to do, but there are many things the world has to do.

But he still remembers their talks of stars. For her birthday, Anna receives a beautifully embroidered pair of gloves, laughing as their “rose” constellation is designed on the tops of the hands.

“Thank you, Anthony,” she says softly. “I love them.”

They keep in touch, even through all the countless schools Howard sends Tony to. Anna will send him her delicious recipes for scones and soup and everything else, Tony carefully setting the notecards in their own separate box. He can’t let the other boys know about it, but he cherishes them deeply.

(And surprises many later with his culinary skills.)

When he’s seventeen, he comes home. There’s the Christmas break at MIT, and he’s supposed to be having a family holiday or what have you. Maria said he needed to be present for a picture show and then that was basically it.

Tony comes home with three separate bags, one laden with presents for Edwin and Anna Jarvis.

He forgets sometimes that they’re older than he’s always thought. Anna isn’t moving around too much anymore. But he embraces her fully and asks her to sit while he gets the tea. Usually, she would protest. But not this time.

They talk about his college days, Rhodey, and what they’ve been up to. Anna will be retiring in a month, which is news to Tony. But he’s glad.

“More time to stargaze,” Anna says, smiling over her mint tea. “Maybe I’ll make some more constellations.” Tony smiles, and says he’ll join her.

They share Christmas/Hanukkah gifts together. Tony feels the warm candlelight on his face as Jarvis puts on the Tchaikovsky record that is his favorite for the holidays.

Anna dies in her sleep one month later. January 24th. Tony can feel the stars dimming, the constellations reshaping now that their favorite is gone. He can’t look to the planets with their silly names that he used to.

Jarvis grieves heavily. He loved his wife dearly, so much that he would move a country for her.

“In time, there is always healing,” the words say. But Tony hates that phrase. He hates that there has to be time, hates that he still feels so torn. And you don’t get over a death.

Her starry gloves are still resting on her nightstand. Her rose water perfume to the left, right by the first necklace Edwin had ever bought her. There is a picture of her sisters and mothers when they lived in Austria.

When he can’t sleep, Tony goes up. He makes sure Anna’s seat is right by him as he talks. He tells her about how much full of it that time travel movies are. (He never cursed in front of her, and will continue not to.)

When he can’t sleep, he’s looking out at the stars. He buys some, to name them after Anna and her sisters.

As time continues, it’s easier to talk to her without feeling an overwhelming sense of loss surround him. He talks to her about how much he hates that man of the board, but at least he has a personal assistant now. He nicknamed her Pepper, and he’s sure she’ll be the one to stick around for the job.

Rhodey knows about his talks, advises Pepper over a quiet breakfast.

“He’s not crazy, but he’s talking with someone he lost,” Rhodey says. “Leave him be, he’ll be fine. He’s not one to jump over the roof or shit like that.”

“Got it,” Pepper says. She’s curious.

He has a little trellis and garden at the top of the roof, and two faded sun chairs. One has been repainted, taken care of. He talks to a woman named Anna, who Pepper finds out is his oldest friend and one of his most-loved people in the world.

Tony thinks about the stars in Afghanistan. Remaking his own star. He had wanted to grasp at them when he was younger, bring one down for Anna to see. She had laughed, and told him that if anyone could do it, it’d be him.

Well, damn. He was making the fucking star.

He remembers her warm hands on his skin as they talked outside, remembered that he would do anything for her and her memory. He wasn’t going to die in darkness, and he was going to do everything he could to make sure he at least saw stars.

There is another person lost. But Tony makes sure that he is cared for, laid to rest where none can disturb him.

“You’ll see her in the stars,” Tony promises to him, after the talking is all done and he can barely move. “Anna will greet you in the stars.”

He looks up, and hopes to whoever listens to this sort of thing that he gets out of it alive.

As it turns out, Rhodey’s odd fondness for geocashing has its uses. He finds a giant shiny thing, and grins.

“How do we know it’s Tony?” one of the younger lieutenants asks. Rhodey turns.

“No one else has such a stupidly brilliant plan as Tony,” he says. “Let’s bring him home, guys.”

Tony stays on the roof. He doesn’t meet Obie, refuses to. All he tells anyone is that he saw things that have changed him, and the weapons department was shutting down immediately. He saw something in Obie’s eyes, much more than surprise.

“Anna, you’ll never believe the star I have for you,” he says to the empty space. He feels a breeze ruffle his hair as a response. Perhaps a I know, love. I know.

He has to guard his heart, his star. He reforges it, makes it a better star. He builds an iron suit, like the one Jarvis used to tell him about in stories of brave knights and people who needed rescuing.

He remembers all of Anna’s stories about heroes who would go to the stars for their loves, for their worlds. It’s always at the back of his mind.

And then he finds out it’s the main damned role as he falls from space, nuclear warhead exploding in front of stars. He could’ve sworn he left a new constellation afterwards.

Heroes would go to the stars. He really wish he couldn’t be one.

It’s fine, until he’s fighting in cold conditions and he’s thinking at the end so this is what a star feels like. Endlessly cold. He’s thinking about stars as he looks at kids who have all the hope in the world, all the happy endings possible. He sees stars when he looks at Peter Parker, the kid who is so brilliant but so naive.

“Remind you of anyone?” Rhodey teases him over breakfast one morning. “He’s an awful lot like you, Tones.”

“I resent that implication,” Tony scoffs. Because Peter? Oh, he can be better than Tony. He can be the true hero, the hero who gets the happy endings and the families and the retirement.

Then the stars bring Tony something. Or rather, someone. Thanos. The guy who takes everyone away.

Mr. Stark please I don’t want to go I don’t want to go I don’t want to go–

He stops using an alarm clock. He can’t anyway, when he’s stuck in space. Near death. But at least he has Nebula.

He tells her about the stars. About how if you were lucky, you could swing on the moon and get star dust on your clothing. Nebula says nothing as he rambles about Anna and stars.

They’re running out of food. And water. And everything.

The stars, apparently, think Tony isn’t done being the hero yet. Or rather, being alive. There’s a woman outside the window, looking at him strangely.

Her name is Carol Danvers. According to Rhodey, she’s the biggest legend of the Air Force. Tony just thinks she’s okay, she just has weird nineties music taste.

(4 Non-Blondes? Seriously?)

But he gets home to Pepper and her fancy perfume, her loving arms, and Rhodey crying because “holy shit, you’re here.”

But then Steve. Steve, who was never there, who always likes to play pretend until he claims it was a reality.

I needed you.

He leaves. He needs to. He and Pepper buy a cabin that’s rundown. It needs a ton of work. Luckily, Tony can do this after a while. Pepper decorates the whole space.

She’s the one who frames the picture of Tony and Peter, the one of Howard gets dragged out. A reminder of time changing.

Pepper and him have a small, very very unofficial wedding. Pepper wears her favorite white dress, Tony says that she’s his wife, and they go to bed.

Two months later, Pepper comes yelling into the house with

“Holy shit, we’re having a baby!” Tony laughs as she nearly trips over her own foot, then immediately worries.

“You’re not allowed to be a clutz anymore, we grew a human.” Pepper’s eyes widen.

“Oh god, what if we can’t do this?”

“We can,” Tony says. “Baby, if you want to, we can. I know we can do this.”

So they prepare. They think about names. At first, Pepper doesn’t want Morgan to be a name. But then they hate everything else. And Morgan seems like a good fit.

Morgan Anna Stark-Potts.

“Welcome to the world, little star,” Tony whispers.

When she cries, he takes her to the roof and tells her the planets’ names and the constellations. He tells her about roses and stars and heroes. She’ll fall asleep again, but he’ll be there. He talks to Anna while she sleeps.

“Bet you never thought of this one,” he murmurs. “Me living in the forest with my wife and a kid. You told me I’d probably end up being a cyborg with my fascination for robots.” He laughs as he remembers. “I still miss you.”

He looks up, and for a split second, the center of the rose constellation they had made up just sparks a bit brighter.

And at the end of everything.

At the end.

He’ll be in the stars too.

#anna jarvis #edwin jarvis #jarvis #god i love them okay #tony stark #lovelyirony writes #by the way i meant to write a stony fic but then i did not because of reasons #anyway they're god and kind at nice

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upontheshelfreviews · 5 years

Text

Merry Christmas everyone! To conclude this month of merrymaking we’re looking at an animated Christmas cult classic that I have a bit of a soft spot for. But perhaps it’s best to start at the beginning:

ETA Hoffman’s “The Nutcracker and the Mouse King” is one of my favorite fantasy stories, though chances are you’re more familiar with the famous ballet by Tchaikovsky that it inspired. The music is gorgeous and instantly recognizable, but few know the actual story of The Nutcracker beyond what your average community production rolls out every December. Much of the plot plays out like a variation of Beauty and the Beast with a protagonist akin to The Wizard of Oz’s Dorothy and story elements that wouldn’t feel out of place in a Grimms’ fairytale. Sadly, most of those details were lost in the translation from book to light holiday entertainment. Not that I’m complaining, I love the ballet, but there’s so much more to its origins that people aren’t usually interested in delving into.

I say all this because today’s movie, The Nutcracker Prince, is one of the very few filmic adaptations that pays faithful tribute to both its source material and its theatrical counterpart. In spite of – or perhaps because of – the popularity of the ballet, there’s been only a handful of film versions of Hoffman’s The Nutcracker (or at least a handful compared to something like A Christmas Carol). How good you find each of them to be depends upon your taste and the production value. I’ve found remarkably little about the making of this particular adaption, but that probably has to do with the fact that it was barely a blip on the box office radar. Released through Warner Brothers (which itself would issue another Nutcracker movie starring Maculay Culkin six years later), this was the only full-length animated feature created by Canada’s Lacewood Productions. A shame, really, because looking at The Nutcracker Prince you can see the studio’s potential. But thanks to the home video circuit, the movie has found a new life as a nostalgic Christmas classic for 90’s kids like myself. Let’s unwrap the reasons why, shall we?

If there’s one thing I appreciate about The Nutcracker Prince, it’s how it plays around with the music order to emphasize a scene’s mood rather than slavishly follow the original score. Instead of the recognizable jovial overture piping over the main titles, we have the Snowflake Waltz from the finale of Act 1, building an aura of mystery and magic to lure us into the story. A series of cross-hatched stills introduce us to our cast and characters, and I tell you, when you recognize these names you will not be able to look at this movie the same way. If I told someone that Anne of Green Gables, Jack Bauer, Lawrence of Arabia, Jimmy Neutron’s grandma and several prominent cast members from Canada’s Saturday morning fixture The Raccoons shared the screen together once, they’d think I was crazy, but as you’ll see it’s the honest to Zeus truth.

Our story begins proper with Clara Stahlbaum (Meagan Follows) and her younger brother Fritz delivering last-minute gifts to their neighbors on Christmas Eve. They race through the icy streets of Germany until they reach the shop of eccentric family friend Uncle Drosselmeier (Peter Boretski), a clockmaker and expert craftsman of mechanical toys. Drosselmeier greets the children and they invite him to come light up the Christmas tree with the family, but he enigmatically tells them he has to prepare for his nephew. This comes as news to Clara and Fritz, since they’ve known Drosselmeier for their whole lives and have never heard him mention a nephew before. Drosselmeier sends them on their way promising he’ll be at the Stahlbaum’s party that evening. Once they’re gone, he hints that there may be something magical in the air this Christmas…

“Blasted pixie dust everywhere! Once the holidays are done I’ve got to get the place fumigated!”

On their way home Clara and Fritz debate what Uncle Drosselmeier’s big annual present he makes for the family will be this time. Fritz, the little future warlord that he is, wishes for a working fort with a mechanical army, while Clara dreams of an enchanted garden where swans in golden necklaces glide across the water. This conversation is a little holdover from the Hoffman story that I like. One of the most difficult challenges every writer faces is writing natural sounding dialogue for children; while Hoffman’s dialogue is a bit stilted by the conventions of the era, the meaning still comes through. Fritz laughs at Clara’s fantasy but because he finds the idea of swans wearing jewelry more ludicrous than a magic garden, which is how an ebullient boy like him would think.

Back at the Stahlbaums, preparations for the Christmas party are underway. The parents give their children their presents: older sister Louise (who’s often excised from other adaptations) receives a pretty new dress, Fritz a hobby horse and toy soldier gear, and Clara a pair of ballet slippers and a new doll she christens Marie. I have to wonder if this is some kind weird in-joke since in the story, the main character is called Marie and the doll she receives is the one who’s named Clara. What happened during the process of making this movie that resulted in their names being switched? Clara is thrilled since these slippers bring her one step closer to her dreams of joining the royal ballet, but feels a touch bemused when she overhears her mother getting choked up at the notion that this may be Clara’s last doll.

The party arrives, including Louise’s boyfriend Eric. Clara and Fritz tease the lovebirds (though to be frank, anyone who wears a powdered wig twelve years out of fashion to something that isn’t a costume party deserves to be ridiculed) but something about their shared intimacy stirs something within Clara. This on top of the adult party guests commenting on how fast she is growing marks her entrance into that state of melancholy and confusion that comes from standing between childhood and adulthood and not knowing where you belong. Clara’s age is never mentioned though I suspect she’s roughly twelve or thirteen, right on the cusp of adolescence and about the time where that mindset begins to sink in. She still plays with dolls and treats them like they were alive, but imagines a future as an adult. There’s a growing sadness over the impending decision between the two that she subconsciously acknowledges through her playing with Marie. This theme isn’t present in the Hoffman story (Marie is a confirmed seven year old in the prime of juvenescence) but it’s been incorporated into the Maurice Sendak retelling a couple of years prior to The Nutcracker Prince and I like its inclusion here as well.

“I wonder if this is anything like what my pen pal Wendy went through with that Peter boy…nah, you’re overthinking it, Clara.”

But there’s no time for her to ponder the implications as a crack of thunder, gust of wind and explosion of fireworks marks the arrival of the final party guest – Drosselmeier. He comes bearing his greatest creation, an enchanting music box castle complete with marching soldiers, seven swans a-swimming, and figures dancing inside the ballroom. In another humorous scene from the original story, Clara and Fritz fawn over the castle while frustrating Drosselmeier with their requests to make the automated figures do more, leading him to go on a brief “kids today don’t appreciate shit” rant.

As the party guests waltz to the strains of more Tchaikovsky, Clara wanders by the tree and spies a present she hadn’t noticed before – a nutcracker in the shape of a soldier. He’s not the most handsome toy in the box, but there’s something charming about him that she is drawn to. Drosselmeier confesses that he’s just part of his gift for the family and demonstrates how he works. On seeing the Nutcracker, Fritz wrestles him out of Clara’s arms and insists he has a go. But because there are no nuts left, he tries one of his toy cannonballs and breaks its jaw. Drosselmeier cheers Clara up by telling a story of how the Nutcracker came to look as he does. And this is where things get…weird.

Now I don’t mind the inclusion of the story-within-a-story. I’m happy they go into how the Nutcracker was cursed unlike most other versions, and there’s some good gags thrown in that make me chuckle. It’s how they go about it that I take some issue with. First, look at the movie’s style looked so far.

The character designs are clearly inspired by Disney – big eyes, soft rounder faces, realistic body proportions for the main characters, only slightly exaggerated for the lesser ones. The backgrounds are warmly lit and richly detailed, like an early work by Thomas Kincade. Overall it feels like something out of a classic storybook.

Now here’s some screencaps from Drosselmeier’s story.

“All right, who changed the channel to Cartoon Network?”

The scene doesn’t even look like it’s from the same movie. It goes from feature film quality to a Saturday morning cartoon, and that’s not entirely coincidental. Lacewood Productions grew out of Hinton Animation Studios which primarily made, you guessed it, cartoons for tv. And Hinton Animation itself had its roots in Atkinson Film-Arts, the studio that produced The Raccoons, hence why some of the cast makes appearances. But because I couldn’t find anything on the making of The Nutcracker Prince, we’ll never know if they went this route because the budget ran out, or the animators didn’t feel comfortable drawing the entire movie in the Disney house style and worked out some kind of compromise, or they just wanted the reveal of the Nutcracker’s human form at the end to be an even bigger surprise. Given some time and creativity they might have been able to come up with something better. You could argue this is how Clara envisions the story playing out in her head, but I don’t think a child from the 1800’s would imagine a fairy tale in the style of Danny Antonucci. In fact, if you played music from Ed Edd and Eddy over this part it wouldn’t feel out of place. Everything is played up for nothing but laughs, not even the Nutcracker’s transformation into a lifeless object, which should be an emotional gut punch. And I’d be ok with all this if it was a short sequence, but it lasts fifteen minutes. That might not seem like long, but since this movie is only seventy-five minutes that means it takes up a good portion of its first half. Plus the cuts back and forth between the story to it being told reminds you of how jarring the whole sequence is compared to the rest of the film.

But on to the story itself. Drosselmeier’s tale takes place in a faraway kingdom belonging to a King who I can only describe Yosemite Sam in his golden years right down to the ornery western accent (it wasn’t until doing my research that I discovered he’s voiced by the Texan monster from the Beetlejuice cartoon which certainly explains it), an extreme doormat Queen, and their daughter, the “beautiful” but very spoiled and unfortunately named Princess Pirlipat. They have in their employ a world-famous clock maker and magician coincidentally also named Drosselmeier and his apprentice, his shy nephew Hans (Kiefer Sutherland).

“Patience, friends. The joke you’re all expecting is coming.”

The occasion on which this flashback takes place is the King’s birthday, and the Queen has put in an order for a cake made out of his favorite food, blue cheese (would that make it a blue cheesecake?) This has the unwanted side effect of drawing out every mouse in the palace. Led by the Mouse Queen (legendary comedienne Phyllis Diller) and her dimwitted son (Mike MacDonald), they pounce upon the cake just as the Queen is putting on the finishing touches.

With no time left to make a new cake, the Queen is forced to send it out to the King and his party guests. This disaster is almost salvaged by a sycophantic Emperor’s New Clothes-style response to the dessert, but Pirlipat ruins everything by whining how she refuses to eat that repulsive offal. The King promotes Drosselmeier to the post of Royal Exterminator and soon all the mice are caught – except the Mouse Queen and her son. She takes her revenge out on Pirlipat; using her dark magic she curses the princess with extreme ugliness, cementing it with a bite to the foot.

Oh please, that’s just Kellyanne Conway before her makeup.

Eager to blame somebody for Pirlipat’s state, the King is ready to execute Drosselmeier until the Queen suddenly intervenes and begs him to consider giving the clockmaker some time to reverse the curse. It was at this moment I realized the King and Queen here are like if the monarchs from Alice in Wonderland had their personalities switched. They even have the same body types as their Disney counterparts.

The King reluctantly acquiesces, but gives Drosselmeier and Hans no more than…well…did I already mention Kiefer Sutherland is in this movie?

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“Your obligatory reference humor, all wrapped up in one neat package. Merry Christmas!”

So Hans and Drosselmeier study the princess to figure out a way to break the spell, not helped by Pirlipat’s constant ear-bleedingly grating crying. Her only comfort is Hans feeding her nuts he cracks for her himself. Inspired, Drosselmeier researches well into the night and discovers the cure for Pirlipat’s condition – the Krakatooth Nut, the hardest nut in the world. It can only be cracked open by a young man who’s never shaved or worn boots and they must take exactly seven steps to and from the person they’re feeding the nut to with their eyes shut and without stumbling, which even by fairy tale logic is some damn arbitrary rules.

The King invites noblemen from around the world to crack the Krakatooth with the promise of marrying Pirlipat and becoming heir to the kingdom if they succeed, though he has them and the rest of the court blindfolded so they won’t be scared off by her hideousness. Unfortunately each man who makes an attempt winds up with a mouth full of broken teeth. The Mouse Queen, confident in her evil plan, watches the misery play out with delight. Hans, however, decides to give it a try, and to Drosselmeier, the royal family, and the Mouse Queen and Prince’s surprise, he succeeds. Pirlipat is transformed back into her normal, terrible old self, however the court is too busy fawning over their restored icon to notice what happens next.

Enraged over being foiled, the Mouse Queen casts a curse on Hans to make him “the prince of the dolls”. Before he can take his final step backward, she bites his foot and he is transformed into a wide-smiling nutcracker. In his new form he accidentally knocks over a line of busts domino-style, the last of which the Mouse Queen is too late to escape from. I love it when villains are hit by instant karma. Alas, Pirlipat takes one look at Hans and refuses to marry a doll that’s not even half as ugly as she was moments ago.

Yep. Totally unmarriageable material.

On seeing his prospective son-in law for himself, the King accuses Drosselmeier of trying to trick his daughter into marrying one of his contraptions. He has the poor guy who’s shown nothing but years of loyalty and service to his outlandish demands banished forthwith while he and his wife and daughter celebrate their own selfish victory. I always hated how they never earned some kind of punishment for their behavior, but considering the boundary-shifting turmoil Europe endured before, during and after this tale was written, it’s more than likely these foolish monarchs will get what’s coming to them in the worst possible way down the line.

Enjoy your power while you can, assholes. Come the Napoleonic wars, you’re all royally screwed.

As for the Mouse Prince, he mourns his mother for all of ten seconds before realizing her death makes him the new Mouse King. He declares to Drosselmeier that he’ll have his revenge on the Nutcracker – not for killing mommie dearest but for smashing the end of his tail when the busts fell and making it go crooked.

With the story done, we abruptly return to the party and Clara expressing her disappointment in Hans’ unfair fate. Drosselmeier assures her that while Hans may be stuck as a Nutcracker, he’s still the rightful ruler of the magical kingdom of the dolls and the spell over him can be broken, but only if he defeats the Mouse King and wins the hand of a fair maiden. I love Clara’s reaction to this; she rolls her eyes and wonders why all fairy tales have the same solution.

Long after the party has ended and the Stahlbaums are fast asleep, a restless Clara sneaks downstairs with her kitty Pavlova to check on her Nutcracker. She introduces him to his new subjects, her toys – Marie, her old matronly doll Trudy, and Pantaloon, the ancient captain of Fritz’s toy soldiers. Taken by a music box’s melody, Clara shares a romantic song and dance with the Nutcracker to the tune of the Waltz of the Flowers, not unlike the one Louise and Eric had earlier.

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And for those of you watching, yes, Clara is clearly rotoscoped when she’s dancing. I’m not against rotoscoping as long as animators don’t rely too heavily on it (COUGHBAKSHICOUGH), though the use of it here as well as in one other scene emphasizes how uneven the rest of the film’s animation is under scrutiny. I do wish there was a full version of this song somewhere though because it’s quite pretty.

The music comes to a sudden halt as Pavlova breaks an ornament. Clara quickly stashes the Nutcracker our of fear of being caught out of bed, but before she can return upstairs she’s startled by the famous ghostly image of Drosselmeier atop the grandfather clock in place of the decorative owl, his cloak billowing out like wings. He showers the entire parlor in pixie dust, and goofy-looking mice armed with forks and needles pop up from of every crevice. Pavlova scares them away from Clara until one arrives to scare him back – the Mouse King, looking far more intimidating than he did in the flashback.

One is an animation student’s design project, the other is Ratigan’s cousin. Would you believe they’re one and the same?

Drosselmeier also douses the toy cabinet with his magic and brings them all to life. The Nutcracker is woken up and, having no idea of what’s happened since the incident with Pirlipat, quickly has to come to grips with his new form and the fact that a sociopathic mouse has sworn a vendetta against him. And you thought the Hangover guys had it bad. Marie and Trudy plead him to take up his mantle as Prince of the Dolls and fight despite his inexperience. Fritz’s soldiers vow their loyalty and Pantaloon (voiced by Peter O’Freaking Toole) is made second-in-command. Though rather than do any actual fighting the old coot drones on and on in Shakespeare references.

“So we’re not watching Ratatouille Peter O’Toole so much as Man of La Mancha Peter O’Toole. Imagine my delight.”

Actually, like the Marie/Clara name switch before, I have to wonder if this odd characteristic of Pantaloon is another subtle in-joke or reference towards the original story. Hoffman was a big Shakespeare fan and often referenced him in his writings, including The Nutcracker. In the book when Fritz’s soldiers desert the battle, the Nutcracker cries out the famous line from Richard the Third, “My kingdom for a horse!” (paired down here to a simple “Come back!” when the toy horses run free). In a weird way, having Pantaloon riff on Shakespeare is a nod to Hoffman. On top of that, one of his first lines is “All for one and one for all”, which everyone remembers from Alexandre Dumas’ The Three Musketeers. Years after Hoffman’s Nutcracker was published, Dumas wrote his own version of the story which is the lighter, softer one that the ballet takes the most cues from. So whether or not this was intentional is up for debate, but if it was I give the writers all the credit in the world for honoring both authors of The Nutcracker in such an obscure and subtle way.

The battle between the mice and the dolls promises to be an exciting one. The problem is once it gets going, it’s so wildly unfocused. The mice and dolls run around each other aimlessly firing and flailing at will. Clara could end all this just by kicking the mice to the other side of the room, but she just stands to the side and giggles at everything happening. Then there’s Marie, who in spite of Trudy strongarming her into helping the fight barely does anything other than scream in a stereotypical Southern accent and complain about how all this fighting is spoiling her complexion, like if she were a more spoiled version of Princess and the Frog’s Charlotte LaBouff. She’s marginally more tolerable that Pirlipat. Granted she does have one funny moment where her dress gets splattered with cheese and that’s what pushes her into a violent rage against the mice.

“And you will know my name is the Lord & Taylor when I lay my vengeance upon thee!”

Anyway, the mice hold down Nutcracker long enough for the Mouse King to have a go at killing him. Clara finally intervenes, throwing her slipper at the Mouse King and knocking him off his high toy horse. But she slips on a marble into the clock and falls unconscious.

Clara wakes up back in her bed on Christmas morning, her head wrapped up in bandages. Nobody believes what she saw the previous night, owing her delusions to a fever sustained from her injury. Drosselmeier pays Clara a surprise visit and presents her with a newly fixed Nutcracker. Grateful as she is, Clara calls him out for not doing anything when his own nephew was in danger, though Drosselmeier states he’s not the one who has the power to save him. Clara’s mother insists she stay in bed and do nothing for the rest of the day, which, come on Mom. Worst Christmas ever.

That evening the Mouse King also pops into Clara’s room to return her slipper. Awfully decent of him, all things considering. After making more big talk about how he’s gonna turn Nutcracker into a pile of splinters, Clara lures him into her drawer with the promise of some chocolates Fritz left her earlier and traps him in there. She flees downstairs to hide Nutcracker, but the Mouse King has mastered offscreen teleportation and threatens to kill Pavlova if she doesn’t hand him over. The owl on top of the clock changes into Drosselmeier and once again he brings the toys to life. This time it’s just for moral support as Nutcracker and the Mouse King battle mano-e-mouso up the Christmas tree. It’s a big improvement over the first battle. There’s more focus since it’s just the two of them fighting and there’s creative use of the terrain and presents around it. My one complaint is that Nutcracker doesn’t drunkenly tackle the tree itself at one point, but we can’t have everything we want for Christmas.

Whomsoever pulls the sword from the spruce shall become king of all Toyland! Oops, wrong mythos.

At one point the Mouse King nearly runs through a defenseless Nutcracker but Pantaloon bravely intervenes at the cost of a nasty back wound. Finally, Nutcracker delivers the killing blow and the Mouse King’s body crashes to the floor. The mice scatter and the toys declare victory. But Pantaloon’s batteries are about to expire, and since the Stahlbaums out of double-A’s the only way to save him is to get him to the Land of the Dolls; the gate to which is coincidentally right through Drosselmeier’s castle. Nutcracker eagerly invites Clara to join them, and after saying some mysterious something or other about time, Drosselmeier shrinks her down to their size with magic. They enter the castle, and Pavlova goes to inspect the Mouse King, which, for a decomposing corpse, seems to be growling an awful lot…

In the castle Marie gets sidetracked by the waltzing gentlemen while the rest continue on. They reach some lovely winter gardens where the snow is made of coconut icing and the royal swans Clara has fantasized earlier wait to take them on their journey. Since Marie is too late to join them, she has to settle for being dragged through the air on a common mallard.

Still better than flying United Airlines.

The swans soar over a forest of Christmas trees up to the stars and through a magical waterfall that changes Clara and Nutcracker into attire befitting royalty and restores Pantaloon to health. They all land at a beautiful palace made of sweets where Nutcracker’s subjects give them a warm welcome. Clara and Nutcracker head out on to the ballroom floor to dance to my favorite piece from the ballet – scratch that, of any classical composer – the achingly beautiful Pas De Deux.

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Like Clara’s solo before, the choreography is rotoscoped, but they’re much more clever at hiding it this time around. The dancing plays out like a dreamy montage with the moves fading in and out from one another, alternating between pink and blue silhouettes, minimally colored full-body shots, and more detailed animation reserved for closeups. There’s also an old-fashioned Vaseline-on-the-lens-style filter on, the kind normally reserved for romantic moments from Hollywood’s golden age which befits the tone they’re going for.

With the dance done, Nutcracker asks Clara to stay with him and rule the Land of the Dolls forever. Clara is sorely tempted, but something holds her back from saying yes. The idea of living in a candy castle with her dream prince and childhood friends is too good to be true, a perfect happy ending. And that’s just it – an ending. Clara has dreams beyond that will never come true if she settles, dreams of seeing the world and being a prima ballerina which can only happen if she chooses to grow up, and she wants to in spite of how much she’s fallen in love with Nutcracker. It would have hit harder if this theme of choosing to mature vs. clinging to girlhood was explored more throughout the movie, but the point still stands.

Now that the desire to grow up has taken hold, Pantaloon, Marie and Trudy change back into ordinary toys, the spark of life bestowed by childhood imagination put out. One by one, the denizens of the doll kingdom drop like flies, their number growing as Clara keeps justifying her refusal to stay.

And as if things couldn’t get any worse, guess who crashes the party?

Ohhhhhh shiiiiit….

Up to this point the Mouse King was a comical villain who was difficult to take seriously. But now here he is like Ratigan in the final act of The Great Mouse Detective, bereft of his senses and embracing his inner animal. His chest wound is still bleeding, his breathing is ragged, he doesn’t even talk, and he shuffles forward like a zombie, but nothing holds him back his single-minded pursuit of Clara. You can’t even tell if he’s going after her because he recognizes the part she played in his eventual demise or he’s desperate to stick it to Nutcracker before he drops dead. Hell, maybe in his near-death state he’s so delusional that he thinks Clara IS Nutcracker. That makes it even more terrifying; he knows he’s dying but refuses to go without taking someone, anyone out with him in as violent a manner as possible.

The circle-eyes kind of kill it for me, though. I mean, when a bad guy or monster is cornering you in their final moments, which gaze is more threatening – bloodshot, glowing and blank, or colorful cartoon rings? Unless their name is Judge Doom, the answer should always be the former.

Defenseless, all Clara can do is pelt dessert at him. But it’s only delaying the inevitable. And when Nutcracker tries to help, the change slowly and painfully takes over him and he is forced to watch as his mortal enemy corners his true love, resulting in the most arresting visual of the movie.

Nutcracker gasps out Clara’s name one last time and morphs fully back into wood. A single tear remains on his face, the only sign he was ever truly alive.

The Mouse King traps Clara on the balcony, lunges at her and goes over the railing, finally taking himself out with a classic Disney villain fall. Clara pulls herself back up and sees the palace is now completely abandoned and filling up with mist. She cries desperately for her Nutcracker as the final heartrending strings of the Pas De Deux play, and the scene to slowly fades to black.

This scene…this whole scene from the moment the Pas De Deux began…how it got me when I was a kid. It broke my heart and did an echappé all over the pieces. Everything from the visuals to the acting and especially the music still punches me in the feels. For all my gripes about the inconsistent animation, this is the part of the movie where it absolutely shines. And thanks to the ramped up tension that follows every note, I’ve always associated this piece of Tchaikovsky’s score with poignant dramatic moments. Say what you will about the past hour of this movie, it is worth it for this excellent emotional climax.

Fritz bursts into Clara’s room startling her awake and declares Pavlova killed a crooked-tailed mouse by the clockwork castle. Clara dashes downstairs to the toy cabinet but finds Nutcracker is gone. She sprints out of the house straight to Drosselmeier’s shop. Oddly enough, he seems to be expecting her. Clara begs Drosselmeier to tell her if the story about the Nutcracker and the Mouse King is true for the sake of her sanity. But then, a handsome young man enters from the other room.

Drosselmeier introduces him as his nephew, Hans. Despite this apparently being their first time meeting, Hans greets her with familiarity, even bowing to her just as her Nutcracker Prince did. And his voice is one Clara would know anywhere. She in turn gives the perfect response.

“Hello…Nutcracker.”

If the climax already left me nearly speechless than the finale takes whatever little words are left straight from my mouth. As far as endings go it’s near flawless. I’d say The Nutcracker Prince borrowed from Disney’s Beauty and the Beast if it weren’t for the fact that it came out the year before Beauty did. Like The Wizard of Oz, it knows how to leave you on an emotional high note. While it’s supposed to be ambiguous, it’s the kind where deep down you just know the real answer without any explanations given.

“Though I can only imagine how awkward it would have been after she said that if it did turn out to be a dream.”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP CYNICISM YOU WILL NOT RUIN THIS MOMENT FOR ME!!”

And because this was the 90’s, our end credits play over another Oscar-bait power ballad, this one being loosely inspired by the Waltz of the Flowers. Not one of the best, but still a good one to close the film on. Enjoy!

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I honestly feel a little bad critiquing The Nutcracker Prince because at the end of the day it’s a fantasy, and fantasies play by their own emotional nonsensical surrealistic rules. It’d be like if Cinema Sins tried to blast a Jean Cocteau flick (and knowing those bastards’ egos they will if they haven’t already). Sure the characters aren’t the most deep, there’s some fluff in the story that could have been put to better use and the animation is inconsistent (characters go wildly off-model and if you pause at the right moment you’ve got plenty of fodder for the “DIDNEY WORL” meme) but when they get it right it’s wonderful. I’d say this and the obscure stop-motion version done by Sanrio (yes, the Hello Kitty factory) make for the most faithful and interesting retellings of The Nutcracker out there. I credit The Nutcracker Prince along with the Nutcracker Suite segment of Fantasia for introducing me to this magical music and story in the first place. I watched the tape quite a bit up until it got lost in the home entertainment shuffle, and enjoyed seeing it several times on the Disney Channel and Toon Disney during the holidays (and the occasional Christmas in July marathon). It’s not perfect, but hey, it wouldn’t be the holidays if you didn’t enjoy at least one imperfectly animated special that hits you over the head with nostalgia feels. Some people have Rankin-Bass, I have The Nutcracker Prince. And I hope the next generation will embrace it too.

Merry Christmas, and thank you for reading! Do you have a favorite version of The Nutcracker? Let me know in the comments! If you’d like to support me and see more reviews, consider supporting me on Patreon.

I’ll see you in the new year with Abby Kane’s requested review of Disney’s Pinocchio – that is, if my special Christmas present doesn’t keep me from finishing it on time (you’re going down, Ridley!!)

Artwork by Charles Moss.

Christmas Shelf Reviews: The Nutcracker Prince (1990) Merry Christmas everyone! To conclude this month of merrymaking we're looking at an animated Christmas cult classic that I have a bit of a soft spot for.

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