rear window: the boy who cried murder<p/><b>an american in paris:</b> i guess we should add some singing to all of these dance numbers<p/><b>the philadelphia story:</b> i want you back, i want you back🎵<p/><b>how to steal a million:</b> gullibility and sarcasm fall in love and steal a dinky statue<p/><b>cabaret:</b> drag and scandalous dances in WWII<p/><b>the sound of music:</b> where a kid can be a kid (and fucking sing like a normal child)<p/><b>bringing up baby:</b> can we keep him? please?<p/><b>seven brides for seven brothers:</b> abduction cause its romantic<p/><b>singing in the rain:</b> good morning🍊🎵there are 16 oranges in every tropicana pure premiu-<p/><b>it's a wonderful life:</b> a cute old man fixes jimmy stewart's many problems<p/><b>the shop around the corner:</b> we're better staying pen pals than actually dating<p/><b>breakfast at tiffany's:</b> she's lowkey a psycho but it's all about love and cats anyway<p/><b>roman holiday:</b> tomboy princess takes a day off and then has to face reality again<p/><b>star!:</b> gertie get your shit together<p/><b>my fair lady:</b> men are snobs and the english have a social system based on speech<p/><b>sabrina:</b> you got hurt and couldn't go on dates with me so i dated your brother instead<p/><b>thoroughly modern millie:</b> everyone is extra and there are white people who play asian people and horrible sex trafficking but it's okay because carol channing<p/><b>west side story:</b> why the fuck do you love him after he literally murdered your brother oh well he died so who cares anyway<p/><b>harvey:</b> polite and innocent man is a bit loopy so everyone tries to lock him up<p/><b>gone with the wind:</b> you don't love me?!?! but you gotta, i guess i'll marry all of the south to make you jealous<p/><b>casablanca:</b> paris and kids being looked at<p/><b>the african queen:</b> oh we almost died but we didn't so let's kiss and build a torpedo from scratch<p/><b>on golden pond:</b> where everyone won best actor/actress and 74 year old katharine hepburn did her own fucking stunts<p/><b>annie get your gun:</b> frank butler is a fucking selfish wienie<p/><b>lawrence of arabia:</b> nice, noble man goes crazy over the course of 4 hours<p/><b>the wizard of oz:</b> everything magical and good in the world is a hoax, kids<p/><b>cinderella:</b> cinderelly, cinderelly, we're woodland creatures providing comical pastime<p/><b>snow white:</b> practice makes perfect, disney, because this movie was on drugs<p/><b>sleeping beauty:</b> let's take a story about rape and make it for kids but then add unrealistic body types<p/><b>gold finger:</b> look it's the german villain from chitty chitty bang bang in a bond movie<p/><b>chitty chitty bang bang:</b> this movie was also on drugs but it's still great<p/><b>funny face:</b> audrey and fred in france<p/><b>🌟i love all these movies so much so don't get your panties in a wad it's a joke:</b> <p/></p>
If I’d only known in the beginning how you really felt about me, things would’ve been different. We wouldn’t have been fighting all the time. If we did quarrel, it wouldn’t have been over suitcases or handbags, but over something like whether your aunt or grandmother should live with us or not.
“i picked up your bag at the airport but i can’t find your number so i’m about to embark on the largest scavenger hunt of all time by using your strange belongings to track you down” au
“Honey, I’m home!” Stiles calls out as he wrestles his roll bag over their entry mat.
“That’s still not funny,” Scott says, without looking up from his textbook.
“Once again, we disagree.”
Scott snorts. “How was the trip?”
“Fine,” he says, plopping down right in the middle of the living room to start unpacking. “Typical conference. Some sessions were actually interesting, most were boring as shit.”
Scott hums, already absorbed again in his reading. Stiles reaches for the zipper on his suitcase but then freezes—this is definitely the same brand as his suitcase, but he doesn’t remember this extra zippered pocket on the top.
Stiles grimaces. “I’m pretty sure this isn’t my suitcase. Goddamn it.”
Scott finally looks up, frowning. “Shit, really? How’d you manage that?”
“It was a redeye,” Stiles says, running a hand through his hair. “I was exhausted, in fucking LaGuardia, and I was just trying to get out of there as fast as humanly possible.”
“Is there a name on it? Are you sure it’s not yours?”
“Pretty sure,” Stiles says, feeling around the sides for the pocket. He sighs when he pulls out the little card and sees that it’s blank. “Motherfucker. This is definitely not my suitcase because I’m actually smart enough to put my name on it.”
“Sorry, man,” Scott says sympathetically as Stiles falls back on the rug with an anguished groan.
“What the hell am I supposed to do now?”
“Open it,” Scott suggests. “Maybe there’s something with their name on it.”
Stiles fiddles with the zipper. He’s nosy as hell, in general, and normally he’d be jumping at the chance to rifle through someone else’s personal belongings. But…
“What if there’s like, dead bodies in there or something?” he asks, and Scott just stares at him for a second. Stiles rolls his eyes—that’s a perfectly valid concern. Or maybe he watches too many police procedurals, whatever. “Okay, fine.”
Stiles holds his breath as he slowly unzips the suitcase, but nothing happens when he lets the top part flop back onto their crappy, threadbare rug. There’s a Dodgers hat on top, and Stiles grimaces. “Well, they have shitty taste in baseball teams.”
He sets the hat carefully aside and keeps digging. The person is neat, whoever they are, because everything is folded, and all the dirty clothes are even all contained in their own zippered bag. At first glance, there’s nothing too out of the ordinary—phone charger, American Gods, Calvin Klein briefs. Fancy, he thinks. There’s a monogrammed leather toiletry bag (DSH, he commits those initials to memory), and he pokes through it.
“I’m gonna make an educated guess that it’s a guy.”
“Why’s that?” Scott says, finally looking somewhat interested in this mystery.
Stiles holds up an electric razor. “And that he’s maybe not totally straight,” he says, brandishing a little bottle of lube that’s about three-quarters full.
Scott rolls his eyes. “Lots of people use lube.”
“Yeah, but do you travel with it?” Stiles counters, and Scott sighs.
“No,” he admits. “Did you find anything with his actual name on it?”
“Not yet,” Stiles says absently. He continues to rifle through the bag until he’s pretty sure he has his plan of attack. “Okay. I’m gonna find out who it is,” he says with a determined nod, and Scott frowns.
“How? This is New York City! There are literally millions of dudes here.”
“It’ll be like a real-life scavenger hunt,” Stiles says dreamily, ignoring Scott as he carefully lays his three chosen items out on the coffee table. “This is awesome.”
Movie night. Kallo sneaks Scott on board the Tempest with 80 water guns and about a thousand water balloons while everyone else is distracted by the vid.
Scott proceeds to ambush Sara and the ship goes insane.
Sara grabbed two pistol-waterguns. She spends most of the fight flipping and jumping around the Cargo Bay, with Liam screaming after her, “Not everyone is a fucking ninja!” Scott, to no one’s surprise, primarily aims for her.
Drack found himself a shotgun. Two, actually, but he’s keeping one in reserve. He doesn’t take cover, no he’s charging everyone with a big-ass grin on his face and so many water balloons his opponent needs a moment to recover.
Peebee could be consistently found on top of the raised Nomad, with two rifles and no fear of the world. She slipped and fell once; the crew never lets her live it down.
Jaal is initially confused by this. At first he didn’t realize it was a game at all, until Suvi pulled him aside to explain. He takes up a sniper position, to which Sara aims at mercilessly. “I know your tricks, Darav! You can’t hide from me!” His laughter quickly becomes infectious.
Cora ends up getting many of the last laughs by using her biotics. She had fun warping people into the air, dropping them when she starts laughing too hard. Everyone is a little reluctant to aim for her.
Vetra tried to stay away from the water at first, but Drack shoved a gun into her hands and quite literally carried her out into the middle of the cargo hold. She very quickly realized the greatest reward was in the use of water balloons.
Kallo took up shop by a bucket of balloons, around a corner where the crew honestly could not find him. They discover that day that Kallo Jath has amazing aim and an even better throwing arm.
Lexi remains off limits. She throws a few water balloons anyway; they know when they catch her giggling.
Liam was also more inclined to the Water Balloons, and he and Drack really got into it, with so many balloons flying across the hold the rest had to take a moment to hide from them.
Gil managed to find himself a pretty sweet mini-gun and had himself a good time ambushing the crew. He’s surprisingly stealthy, when he’s not throwing out sarcastic comments about people’s aim.
Suvi filmed the entire event. She was also considered off limits, but the crew noticed a significant amount of balloons hitting people in the back from her general direction. Video proof is later acquired; her laughter was constantly present.
By the end, water is running dry. Sara takes cover, coincidentally right next to Drack, to reload her guns. The two glance at each other, nod, and Suvi swears it was better than an Action Vid. They walk out to the center of the hold, a gun in each hand as if followed by epic music, the two against the world in their final stand.
Sara proceeds to hide behind Drack when everyone’s attention turns to them. And upon noticing, Drack drops to the ground so hard the floor shakes, and the crew drench Sara in an onslaught of water and balloons. She falls dramatically, screaming out with a raised fist “I will not be defeated!”
The ship is soaked. The crew is soaked. But they all sit in the cargo hold and laugh, excitedly chatting away about their epic showdown and debating the winner (to which Sara claimed was hers; “Guys, I had a dramatic death and everything!”), gaining memories that they talk about for the rest of their lives.
Tell us how Steve managed to cause a disaster on his bicycle, only hours after he was banned from using motorized vehicles.
you must know steve pretty well, because that is exactly what happened.
the morning after throwing yet another motorcycle at a supervillian, steve woke up early and decided to go out and get bagels. not at all unusual, except that his favorite bagel place is in brooklyn. so naturally steve decided to just bike there.
tony keeps a dozen or so bikes in the vehicle garage, and pretty much every one of them is weirder than the one before. one is a concept made by ferrari; another one is made from bamboo and was a gift from an MIT student whose research he funded. one appears to have some sort of rocket engine attached. with selections like that, you can see why steve chose the oldest, plainest bike in the group.
what steve did not know was that this was the Deathbike.
see, when tony was 14 and starting at MIT, he wasnt licensed to drive and needed a way to get around campus quickly. so, like many other college students, he got a bike. a very nice, high-end bike, of course, but otherwise perfectly innocuous. (it was a bit too big for him. he insists it wasnt, and that he’s not short.)
tony rode it home and painted it black.
within the first month of owning the Deathbike, tony ran into two people, was run into three times by other cyclists, and just barely missed being hit by a car. tony refused to admit that either 1. the bike was cursed or 2. he was just a terrible cyclist, and instead painted a tiny white skull on the side of the bike for every collision, and rode it for the rest of his time at MIT. somehow, he survived, and no one was seriously injured. (he admits that there may have been a few broken bones. but he paid the medical bills, so it was fine.)
by the time steve took the bike out, there were twenty-seven little skulls.
steve knew none of this, and headed out on the sidewalks aboard the Deathbike. he made it a block or two on thankfully empty sidewalks before tony’s modifications kicked in.
little 14-year-old madman stark, drunk on alcohol and puberty, decided that his two-wheeled killing machine didnt go fast enough. so, using the genius and lack of foresight the stark bloodline had given him, he made some changes. and now the Deathbike has a little electric engine that kicks in after a certain speed, which basically increases how fast the bike goes per pedal. tony says the fastest he was ever clocked on it was about forty mph–but insists he could have made it faster, except he didnt want to make it too bulky.
steve was doing fifty miles an hour by the time he was six blocks from the tower.
since steve is himself, instead of maybe slowing down when he realized how fast he was going, he decided to see how fast he could get. and it turns out that a supersoldier on a bike built by teenage tony stark can go plenty damn fast.
a traffic cam on the brooklyn bridge clocked him at nearly 115 mph.
but dont forget–this is the Deathbike. it earned its name, and would fulfill its mildly inconvenient legacy regardless of who was riding it.
also, its tires were never built for that kind of stress.
steve turned around the corner of the block where the bagel shop is going some eighty-odd mph (having slowed down to turn), and hit a heap of cardboard. if he’d been going slower, or if the wheels had been in better shape, he might have been able to brake in time. as it was, he was still going pretty fast when he hit it. and since the universe loves to laugh at steve, the pile of cardboard was shaped pretty much like a ramp.
steve and the Deathbike went airborne.
somehow, the early morning commuters failed to notice captain america hurtling through the sky on the worlds most sadistic pedal-powered monster, so when he landed in the bed of an old metal pickup, nobody checked on him when he didn’t pop right back out. instead, the Deathbike, steve, and steve’s shiny new concussion remained right where they were, in blissful unconsciousness.
when steve finally woke up, he was somewhere in southern virginia, and there was a very confused pickup truck driver wondering how the heck he’d wound up with a giant man and a bike in his truck.
we would have made steve bike back, but we didnt want to tempt fate. instead we sent a quinjet.
Request: Could you do something fluffy w Lin, idk why but could you?- anon
Summary: “you’re talking to yourself in a silent library about how much you hate studying and how you’re going to fail, need help? i just so happen to major in that subject and oh shit, you’re really cute”
Warnings: first fic? otherwise just lots of fluff and a little awkward Lin.
A/N: have fun, and I’d really appreciate feedback!
“Dear Friend,” -Shop Around the Corner (1940) vs She Loves Me (2016 Broadway Revival)
I wanted to see the difference between how Jimmy Stewart and Zachary Levi adapted this character to their own personal acting styles. With the slight adjustments to the Broadway show, I wasn’t expecting it to match up so closely.