Entry tags:
Here's some more, because they've eaten my brain.
Title: With the Best of Intentions, 1/2
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Shosanna/Fredrick, mentions of Landa and Marcel
Rating: R overall, PG-13 for this part
Word Count: 2198
Summary: After initially seeking to drive him away, Shosanna finds herself involved in a rather difficult situation with Fredrick. Nothing ever goes according to plan, does it?
Warnings: I'm thinking this one can fit in with the same timeline as King For A Day, but I'll leave that to you to decide for yourself, oh discerning reader. I was inspired by both the scene from Near Dark wherein Caleb meets Mae and Missile by Iamx (There's also this version, if you prefer).
Script references:
Excerpt 1 Excerpt 2
With the best of intentions,
You tried to give an ocean direction,
Think you're giving but you're taking my life away
-Missile, IAMX
(As always, many thanks to ![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
piecesofalice for the screencap!)
Shosanna was no stranger to difficult situations, and the one she currently found herself in was no exception.
How did this happen?
Shosanna wondered to herself, as she cradled the young man in her arms. She lay flat on her back, wide awake and staring at the ceiling rafters, contemplating what was to come next. He lay on his side, fast asleep with his right arm stretched across her torso, his right leg wrapped between hers and his face nestled into the curve of her neck.
You know.
She scoffed at herself, relishing the feel of the young man's breath against her skin. Shosanna never anticipated this even though the faint promise of it had loomed over them; the two of them, nude in her bed, a mess of tangled limbs and sated heartbeats.
How could you do this? She chastised, To Marcel?
Squeezing her eyes shut, Shosanna let out an exasperated sigh and held on to Fredrick even tighter.
How could you be so weak?
~
Shosanna's body was a dead weight, cumbersome and useless as her mind pleaded with her to stand, to leave before she completely deteriorated in front of Landa and the rest of the Nazi officials and their collaborators that currently surrounded her in the restaurant. It was as if Shosanna's limbs atrophied within the past ten minutes. She carefully stood on unstable legs, her upper body hunched slightly over the table, her right palm pressed firmly onto the flat surface for leverage and her left hand clamped over her mouth in an attempt to silence herself.
And then came a voice thick with concern,
"Emmanuelle?"
Fredrick.
Steeling her nerves, Shosanna straightened her posture and drew in a sharp breath before turning to face him.
Her voice was noticeably hoarse as she gave a small, grudging,
"Oui?"
His brows were knitted together in worry as he cocked his head to the side and scrutinized her; it was easy to see that something wasn't right, that someone had hurt her. The color was drained from Shosanna's face; she was clutching at her hands with such an intensity that her knuckles had gone white and her large eyes were on the verge of tears. Making a move to soothe her, Fredrick leaned towards her intimately and whispered,
"I do not care much for him, either."
Then pulling back, he offered her a kind smile, but to no avail. It was cold comfort.
Giving a hasty nod of her head, Shosanna replied blankly,
"I need to get back to Le Gamaar."
With that, she briskly walked past him, through the main dining room to the front doors, and out into the street. The atmosphere had been stifling with the thick smoke of cigarettes, the scents of expensive colognes, perfumes, and the oppressive presence of Col. Hans Landa. Now out in the considerably cleaner air of the city, she inhaled deeply and exhaled shudderingly, trying to placate her frazzled nerves. By foot, it would take Shosanna approximately fifteen minutes to return to her sanctuary. Ten, perhaps, if she walked swiftly enough. Fredrick, however, was not far behind.
Keep moving, she urged herself. Keep moving and don't look back.
But as Shosanna was all too aware, the young man was entirely too persistent. Catching up to her right side, he tried in vain to speak to her.
"Emmanuelle, I am not intending to pressure you for information, but I cannot help but notice that you are distressed."
Distressed doesn't even come close.
Opting for a physical response, rather than verbal, Shosanna hurried her pace. Unfortunately for her, Fredrick was able to keep up with her stride. Realizing he wasn't going to receive the acknowledgement he desired, Fredrick decided on a polite, reserved route to hopefully ease her into opening up.
"I still wish to escort you back to Le Gamaar, as it is the gentlemanly thing to do. That is, if you will permit me, Mademoiselle Mimieux."
That was it.
Shosanna slowed down, and without even casting a glance in his direction, answered,
"How considerate of you, Monsieur; but it is not necessary."
She then turned her head in his direction, only to find herself being rewarded with that damned smile.
"But," Shosanna continued curtly, "it amuses me that you consider yourself a gentleman, as your actions towards me so far have indicated that you are otherwise."
She could not help the sliver of satisfaction that crept in at seeing his face fall into utter bewilderment. Fredrick, the charming young soldier, who always knew the right thing to say was now nearly rendered mute.
"Why do you say that, Emmanuelle?" he weakly managed.
Her slow gait came to a standstill, posture rigid, arms crossed over her chest, and head raised defiantly, as if appraising his worth. Facial expression stoic, voice even, and tone flat, Shosanna responded matter-of-factly,
"You and your fellow countrymen are subjugating my homeland, spreading filth and disease as you trudge across Europe. I, and countless others, suffer for it. Your hands are stained with the blood of those who oppose you and you are honored for it. As a result, you act like a spoiled, entitled child. I do not know who else has had the misfortune of crossing your path, but I refuse to drop to my knees for you."
Fredrick withered at her harsh words, breaking eye contact with her and lowering his gaze to the cobblestone street. A powerful rush of adrenaline now pumped through Shosanna's veins; after internalizing her emotions for the past four years, voicing her grievances, however restrained, felt dizzyingly satisfying.
She awaited his rebuttal. In return, she received a heavy-hearted young man.
Raising his face back up to meet hers, Shosanna could see his features had hardened. But she was not backing down. Not yet, anyway.
Finally, he spoke, his voice strained,
"Oui, Emmanuelle. I cannot argue with you, as my conscience is not clear. There is truth to your words. Helga writes to me regularly to remind me of that, but to hear them from you is far more sobering."
Shosanna narrowed her eyes at him.
"What are you getting at, Fredrick?"
He almost explained himself, but then paused for moment. It was obvious that Fredrick's mind was going to dark places. His warm eyes now harsh and his mouth set in a thin line. A cold chill ran down her spine.
Fredrick's voice was stronger and more steady now,
"You have every right to speak to me as you do. I do not take pride in my regrettable actions in Italy. However, my country does. Fear was my prime motivator then, but I retain a strand of hope as it is love that keeps me going these days."
Still seemingly ill-at-ease, Fredrick carefully studied her, awaiting a response. Shosanna remained uncompromising.
Eyes locked intently with hers, he assured her, with the utmost sincerity,
"I hold no hate in my heart."
Clenching her jaw, Shosanna gave him a nod of her head. Unfolding her arms, she placed her hands on her hips, taking an authoritative stance. There was no holding back.
"If that is so, Fredrick, then why must you pressure me? Why do you send Gestapo to collect me and force me to socialize with such people? You appeal to me with boyish optimism and naivete, yet your actions tell me differently. If you are so desperate to prove to me that you are 'more than a uniform', then why must you continually pull me in opposite directions?"
Shosanna was hoping to provoke him, or, at the very least, offend him; but there was not a trace of shock or confusion on his face. Instead, a small smile played upon his lips. Fredrick appeared to be impressed!
"I am afraid I must concede to you, again, Emmanuelle. And I owe you a more thorough explanation."
His compliance was frustrating, but Shosanna could agree to this. Loosening up to a degree, she lowered her arms and clasped her hands in front of herself and regarded him expectantly.
"After Italy, I was given the privilege of choosing my next destination. As you can see, I chose France," As Fredrick went on, his features softened and his voice relaxed, "I decided upon France as my second oldest sister, Elsa, always hoped to see Paris one day. Picturing her surprised face lighting up with joy upon receiving a postcard with a photograph of the Eiffel Tower was almost too much to pass up."
His small smile became a bemused smirk as he recalled the thought. Not even Shosanna could help but smile, too. Noticing this, Fredrick practically beamed.
"And being able to see a possible end to this war, I decided my time would be better spent surrounded by beauty, which would also serve to alleviate the hideousness of my circumstance."
Outwardly, Shosanna appeared totally composed, but internally, she was panicking. She wanted to slap that delighted look right off of his sweet, baby face. In his eyes, Fredrick held nothing but admiration for the young woman before him and his voice was now hushed and low,
"And the night I discovered Le Gamaar and you, Emmanuelle, I knew I had made the right decision."
Her chest tightened and her palms became slick with sweat as her mind screamed,
This is not how it is supposed to happen. This cannot happen.
Shosanna coaxed herself to speak, but all that came was a wretched,
"Why?"
She knew she was sentencing herself to death.
If only he knew that his determination was to the detriment of them both.
Perhaps he does.
For as bright and perceptive as Fredrick was, he never could sense just how deeply his words cut her.
Perhaps he can.
"Now I wish to apologize for my boorish behavior, as I do not mean to be an affront to you, Emmanuelle. Please do believe me when I tell you that I was not aware of Major Hellstrom's appalling actions; I simply mentioned that I wanted to fetch you myself — only if you agreed to, of course — and he volunteered to do it instead of me. His reasoning being that as a 'war hero' I am not to perform such menial tasks myself. And if it is your wish to no longer endure my presence, then so be it. The premiere can be moved back to The Ritz and I will not begrudge you for no longer wanting to tolerate me — or them…"
Fredrick's voice trailed off as he took a moment to clear his throat before pressing on,
"It's just, that, I have not met anyone quite like you."
Shosanna's hands began to tremble and her voice wavered,
"Non, you certainly have not."
Fredrick grew bolder now.
"But I cannot help it, Emmanuelle. For however briefly I've known you, I have, despite what common sense dictates, fallen…"
This was too much; it was too much for Shosanna to bear that evening she was perched on the ladder like a modern-day Juliet, and he, her Romeo, approached her. It was now proving to be too dangerous for them both and could not continue. Thinking on her feet, Shosanna defensively raised her right hand palm forward to halt him before he could finish his declaration of love for her; words did not have to be uttered, as it was always written on his face, always present in his eyes, always there in the way he fumbled with his side cap in his hands and in how he had always become self-conscious of his appearance whenever she encountered him.
This was intolerable.
Shosanna's anxiety gave way to anger as something ugly within her unfurled itself.
What right does he have?
Gaining her second wind, Shosanna stood taller, prouder. She would show him. She wanted at that moment nothing more than to hurt this young man, this German War Hero; to break him, to drive him away. She wanted him wrecked and trembling beneath her. And Shosanna knew just how to do it.
His affections could be used to her advantage. It was the only way.
"Non, Fredrick," her voice now brave, more assertive, "that will not be necessary. Now if you would, please escort me back to Le Gamaar."
Being the beautiful young fool that he was, Fredrick consented.
~
Immediately after reaching the theater, Shosanna pounced her quarry, taking Fredrick by the hand and barging through the front doors. As soon as they entered the lobby, she grabbed handfuls of his uniform and brought his mouth crashing down to meet hers, capturing his lips in an eager kiss. Before he could even make sense of the moment or even respond, Shosanna broke contact and pushed Fredrick back with all the strength a young woman of her stature could muster. Warding him off, she made her way to the staircase. Before making her ascent, Shosanna threw him a quick glimpse from over her shoulder and directly inquired of the young man,
"Are you coming or will I have to drag you along?"
As disoriented as he was, Fredrick could not refuse.
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Shosanna/Fredrick, mentions of Landa and Marcel
Rating: R overall, PG-13 for this part
Word Count: 2198
Summary: After initially seeking to drive him away, Shosanna finds herself involved in a rather difficult situation with Fredrick. Nothing ever goes according to plan, does it?
Warnings: I'm thinking this one can fit in with the same timeline as King For A Day, but I'll leave that to you to decide for yourself, oh discerning reader. I was inspired by both the scene from Near Dark wherein Caleb meets Mae and Missile by Iamx (There's also this version, if you prefer).
Script references:
Excerpt 1 Excerpt 2
With the best of intentions,
You tried to give an ocean direction,
Think you're giving but you're taking my life away
-Missile, IAMX
piecesofalice for the screencap!)Shosanna was no stranger to difficult situations, and the one she currently found herself in was no exception.
How did this happen?
Shosanna wondered to herself, as she cradled the young man in her arms. She lay flat on her back, wide awake and staring at the ceiling rafters, contemplating what was to come next. He lay on his side, fast asleep with his right arm stretched across her torso, his right leg wrapped between hers and his face nestled into the curve of her neck.
You know.
She scoffed at herself, relishing the feel of the young man's breath against her skin. Shosanna never anticipated this even though the faint promise of it had loomed over them; the two of them, nude in her bed, a mess of tangled limbs and sated heartbeats.
How could you do this? She chastised, To Marcel?
Squeezing her eyes shut, Shosanna let out an exasperated sigh and held on to Fredrick even tighter.
How could you be so weak?
Shosanna's body was a dead weight, cumbersome and useless as her mind pleaded with her to stand, to leave before she completely deteriorated in front of Landa and the rest of the Nazi officials and their collaborators that currently surrounded her in the restaurant. It was as if Shosanna's limbs atrophied within the past ten minutes. She carefully stood on unstable legs, her upper body hunched slightly over the table, her right palm pressed firmly onto the flat surface for leverage and her left hand clamped over her mouth in an attempt to silence herself.
And then came a voice thick with concern,
"Emmanuelle?"
Fredrick.
Steeling her nerves, Shosanna straightened her posture and drew in a sharp breath before turning to face him.
Her voice was noticeably hoarse as she gave a small, grudging,
"Oui?"
His brows were knitted together in worry as he cocked his head to the side and scrutinized her; it was easy to see that something wasn't right, that someone had hurt her. The color was drained from Shosanna's face; she was clutching at her hands with such an intensity that her knuckles had gone white and her large eyes were on the verge of tears. Making a move to soothe her, Fredrick leaned towards her intimately and whispered,
"I do not care much for him, either."
Then pulling back, he offered her a kind smile, but to no avail. It was cold comfort.
Giving a hasty nod of her head, Shosanna replied blankly,
"I need to get back to Le Gamaar."
With that, she briskly walked past him, through the main dining room to the front doors, and out into the street. The atmosphere had been stifling with the thick smoke of cigarettes, the scents of expensive colognes, perfumes, and the oppressive presence of Col. Hans Landa. Now out in the considerably cleaner air of the city, she inhaled deeply and exhaled shudderingly, trying to placate her frazzled nerves. By foot, it would take Shosanna approximately fifteen minutes to return to her sanctuary. Ten, perhaps, if she walked swiftly enough. Fredrick, however, was not far behind.
Keep moving, she urged herself. Keep moving and don't look back.
But as Shosanna was all too aware, the young man was entirely too persistent. Catching up to her right side, he tried in vain to speak to her.
"Emmanuelle, I am not intending to pressure you for information, but I cannot help but notice that you are distressed."
Distressed doesn't even come close.
Opting for a physical response, rather than verbal, Shosanna hurried her pace. Unfortunately for her, Fredrick was able to keep up with her stride. Realizing he wasn't going to receive the acknowledgement he desired, Fredrick decided on a polite, reserved route to hopefully ease her into opening up.
"I still wish to escort you back to Le Gamaar, as it is the gentlemanly thing to do. That is, if you will permit me, Mademoiselle Mimieux."
That was it.
Shosanna slowed down, and without even casting a glance in his direction, answered,
"How considerate of you, Monsieur; but it is not necessary."
She then turned her head in his direction, only to find herself being rewarded with that damned smile.
"But," Shosanna continued curtly, "it amuses me that you consider yourself a gentleman, as your actions towards me so far have indicated that you are otherwise."
She could not help the sliver of satisfaction that crept in at seeing his face fall into utter bewilderment. Fredrick, the charming young soldier, who always knew the right thing to say was now nearly rendered mute.
"Why do you say that, Emmanuelle?" he weakly managed.
Her slow gait came to a standstill, posture rigid, arms crossed over her chest, and head raised defiantly, as if appraising his worth. Facial expression stoic, voice even, and tone flat, Shosanna responded matter-of-factly,
"You and your fellow countrymen are subjugating my homeland, spreading filth and disease as you trudge across Europe. I, and countless others, suffer for it. Your hands are stained with the blood of those who oppose you and you are honored for it. As a result, you act like a spoiled, entitled child. I do not know who else has had the misfortune of crossing your path, but I refuse to drop to my knees for you."
Fredrick withered at her harsh words, breaking eye contact with her and lowering his gaze to the cobblestone street. A powerful rush of adrenaline now pumped through Shosanna's veins; after internalizing her emotions for the past four years, voicing her grievances, however restrained, felt dizzyingly satisfying.
She awaited his rebuttal. In return, she received a heavy-hearted young man.
Raising his face back up to meet hers, Shosanna could see his features had hardened. But she was not backing down. Not yet, anyway.
Finally, he spoke, his voice strained,
"Oui, Emmanuelle. I cannot argue with you, as my conscience is not clear. There is truth to your words. Helga writes to me regularly to remind me of that, but to hear them from you is far more sobering."
Shosanna narrowed her eyes at him.
"What are you getting at, Fredrick?"
He almost explained himself, but then paused for moment. It was obvious that Fredrick's mind was going to dark places. His warm eyes now harsh and his mouth set in a thin line. A cold chill ran down her spine.
Fredrick's voice was stronger and more steady now,
"You have every right to speak to me as you do. I do not take pride in my regrettable actions in Italy. However, my country does. Fear was my prime motivator then, but I retain a strand of hope as it is love that keeps me going these days."
Still seemingly ill-at-ease, Fredrick carefully studied her, awaiting a response. Shosanna remained uncompromising.
Eyes locked intently with hers, he assured her, with the utmost sincerity,
"I hold no hate in my heart."
Clenching her jaw, Shosanna gave him a nod of her head. Unfolding her arms, she placed her hands on her hips, taking an authoritative stance. There was no holding back.
"If that is so, Fredrick, then why must you pressure me? Why do you send Gestapo to collect me and force me to socialize with such people? You appeal to me with boyish optimism and naivete, yet your actions tell me differently. If you are so desperate to prove to me that you are 'more than a uniform', then why must you continually pull me in opposite directions?"
Shosanna was hoping to provoke him, or, at the very least, offend him; but there was not a trace of shock or confusion on his face. Instead, a small smile played upon his lips. Fredrick appeared to be impressed!
"I am afraid I must concede to you, again, Emmanuelle. And I owe you a more thorough explanation."
His compliance was frustrating, but Shosanna could agree to this. Loosening up to a degree, she lowered her arms and clasped her hands in front of herself and regarded him expectantly.
"After Italy, I was given the privilege of choosing my next destination. As you can see, I chose France," As Fredrick went on, his features softened and his voice relaxed, "I decided upon France as my second oldest sister, Elsa, always hoped to see Paris one day. Picturing her surprised face lighting up with joy upon receiving a postcard with a photograph of the Eiffel Tower was almost too much to pass up."
His small smile became a bemused smirk as he recalled the thought. Not even Shosanna could help but smile, too. Noticing this, Fredrick practically beamed.
"And being able to see a possible end to this war, I decided my time would be better spent surrounded by beauty, which would also serve to alleviate the hideousness of my circumstance."
Outwardly, Shosanna appeared totally composed, but internally, she was panicking. She wanted to slap that delighted look right off of his sweet, baby face. In his eyes, Fredrick held nothing but admiration for the young woman before him and his voice was now hushed and low,
"And the night I discovered Le Gamaar and you, Emmanuelle, I knew I had made the right decision."
Her chest tightened and her palms became slick with sweat as her mind screamed,
This is not how it is supposed to happen. This cannot happen.
Shosanna coaxed herself to speak, but all that came was a wretched,
"Why?"
She knew she was sentencing herself to death.
If only he knew that his determination was to the detriment of them both.
Perhaps he does.
For as bright and perceptive as Fredrick was, he never could sense just how deeply his words cut her.
Perhaps he can.
"Now I wish to apologize for my boorish behavior, as I do not mean to be an affront to you, Emmanuelle. Please do believe me when I tell you that I was not aware of Major Hellstrom's appalling actions; I simply mentioned that I wanted to fetch you myself — only if you agreed to, of course — and he volunteered to do it instead of me. His reasoning being that as a 'war hero' I am not to perform such menial tasks myself. And if it is your wish to no longer endure my presence, then so be it. The premiere can be moved back to The Ritz and I will not begrudge you for no longer wanting to tolerate me — or them…"
Fredrick's voice trailed off as he took a moment to clear his throat before pressing on,
"It's just, that, I have not met anyone quite like you."
Shosanna's hands began to tremble and her voice wavered,
"Non, you certainly have not."
Fredrick grew bolder now.
"But I cannot help it, Emmanuelle. For however briefly I've known you, I have, despite what common sense dictates, fallen…"
This was too much; it was too much for Shosanna to bear that evening she was perched on the ladder like a modern-day Juliet, and he, her Romeo, approached her. It was now proving to be too dangerous for them both and could not continue. Thinking on her feet, Shosanna defensively raised her right hand palm forward to halt him before he could finish his declaration of love for her; words did not have to be uttered, as it was always written on his face, always present in his eyes, always there in the way he fumbled with his side cap in his hands and in how he had always become self-conscious of his appearance whenever she encountered him.
This was intolerable.
Shosanna's anxiety gave way to anger as something ugly within her unfurled itself.
What right does he have?
Gaining her second wind, Shosanna stood taller, prouder. She would show him. She wanted at that moment nothing more than to hurt this young man, this German War Hero; to break him, to drive him away. She wanted him wrecked and trembling beneath her. And Shosanna knew just how to do it.
His affections could be used to her advantage. It was the only way.
"Non, Fredrick," her voice now brave, more assertive, "that will not be necessary. Now if you would, please escort me back to Le Gamaar."
Being the beautiful young fool that he was, Fredrick consented.
Immediately after reaching the theater, Shosanna pounced her quarry, taking Fredrick by the hand and barging through the front doors. As soon as they entered the lobby, she grabbed handfuls of his uniform and brought his mouth crashing down to meet hers, capturing his lips in an eager kiss. Before he could even make sense of the moment or even respond, Shosanna broke contact and pushed Fredrick back with all the strength a young woman of her stature could muster. Warding him off, she made her way to the staircase. Before making her ascent, Shosanna threw him a quick glimpse from over her shoulder and directly inquired of the young man,
"Are you coming or will I have to drag you along?"
As disoriented as he was, Fredrick could not refuse.
no subject
Whenever I'm uncertain that I'm not getting Fredrick as heart wrenchingly sweet as he is, I make certain to visit a particular fic over at fanfiction.net, wherein he's an insufferable little s.o.b. who knows Shosanna's identity but keeps calling her Emmanuelle and spews all sorts of Nazi b.s. and she fucking puts up with it. *pulls hair out* Therefore, I must right such wrongs by paying vigilant attention to every detail of what I write.
My goal is before Monday, sometime Sunday (your Monday), methinks? And tonight over here we turn the clocks back so I gain an hour, which will be used for writing/or getting distracted and watching horror films.
In the meantime, you can occupy yourself with the fact that I jazzed up the user info over at
no subject
The info looks amazing, and you can probably tell from my bombardment of comments I caught up with the comm. I'm so in love with the idea of them as Forties film stars, because it's just true.
Oh, I had such a shit day, and have to go to bed, and whinge more, but coming over here is like having dinner with nice wine and a filling dish of something fattening and chicken-based. <33333
no subject
It's also medically improbable, as she has them gun each other down just like the film, yet they survive. And Fredrick carries her out of there and they're all better after one day. A user on imdb (who is knowledgeable of such things) informed me that no, Fredrick would not have the power in his upper body, particularly in his abdomen, to even move. And Shosanna taking multiple bullets to the stomach and chest? Yeah, no. And why would Fredrick even turn into such a despicable character? Everything QT has said about him, including the script and Daniel's performance have shown that Fredrick is a genuine, charming young man, not a sociopathic Nazi. Shosanna being reduced to a useless, sniveling woman who lets him treat her like that is so, so shitty.
I had to make
I'll have part 2 up soon this evening, so when you awake, you'll have something on the internet to look forward to. I DO WHAT I CAN TO ENRICH OTHERS' LIVES. ♥
no subject
“But you have such good genes.”
I have to buy a bottle of wine before I finish it. And I feel awful for saying that, but really? Really?!
Un Amico came on my iPod yesterday and I thought (in caps) "THEY HAVE A FUCKING LOVE THEME. THAT'S WHY THEY'RE THE OTP!" I'm starting to get cranky at all the anti-Fredrick stances out there. Bleh.
no subject
GOD'SQT'S MOUTH THAT HE WAS ASHAMED OF IT.Your liver is going to die because it will take you an entire winery to get through it. Maybe I should post all my fic over there to spite them all.
I've found the perfect gif for it all (and those who oppose S/F):
"THEY HAVE A FUCKING LOVE THEME. THAT'S WHY THEY'RE THE OTP!" I'm starting to get cranky at all the anti-Fredrick stances out there. Bleh.
YES. SHOSANNA AND FREDRICK ARE A PACKAGE DEAL FOR ME, I CAN'T HAVE ONE WITHOUT THE OTHER, AND NEITHER CAN QT!
Also, have a good amount of lolz over the description of Marcel on wiki's IB page: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Inglourious_Basterds
no subject
YOU HOT TAMALE YOUThere is no wine in the house, so I have to put it off until tomorrow. I just flipped back to the tab and saw this: “ Guillaume! (Gee- yume) and had to just not. YOU DON'T PUT PRONUNCIATIONS IN THE MIDDLE OF THE PROSE, FIC WRITER. WHAT. WHAT. WHAT.
"A man of quiet dignity." Ah. Yes, you are wise Wikipedia. I still have residual guilt over Marcel. I can't help it!
(Email for you tomorrow night - we had today off for the Melbourne Cup, but all my time was taken with cleaning for an inspection tomorrow. My roommate was feeling unmotivated when cleaning the oven, so I recited Aldo's "100 scalps" speech to her. I know, great story
no subject
Fredrick also needs to take a lesson from Stiglitz, Jr. (why yes, I'm still pretending that Hugo is Adrian's dad):
WAIT UNTIL YOU GE TO THE BABELFISH GERMAN. AND WHEN SHOSANNA TRIES TO SEE IF SHE CAN SELL LE GAMAAR. I WAS ALL, "IT BLEW THE FUCK UP. MICHAEL BAY'S GRANDFATHER WAS THERE AND THE EXPLOSION GENE WAS BORN."
I'm going to continue King For A Day, as I had been thinking of that particular storyline for a while. And that horrendous fic has prompted me to throw down the gauntlet. And did you see the post on
I have no guilt for Marcel because I'm mean. It's also QT's fault. He probably watches IB and thinks, "LOL, MARCEL." Then he cries at the projection booth scene and either Eli or Robert Rodriguez has to comfort him.
My dad actually told me about that, as he reads an Australian newspaper online. He also watches live-streaming Russian television on his computer and sings along to Yves Montand videos on youtube.
YES GREAT STORY. Next time channel upset Fredrick and tell her by not cleaning the oven, she disrespects it at her own peril.
no subject
Did I tell you I bought Watchmen on the weekend? The 2-Disc El Awesome-o Edition? (Not the Rorschach face one, that shit is creepy) I will plan to watch it twice: once with Srs Biz glasses on, and the other with LOL PASSWORD: FIERCE goggles. (That vid makes my life)
Look, I talked about that fic in Le Email, and I'm currently undertaking councelling for it. It's up there with the Twilight Edward-is-a-tattooist-not-a-vampire-WTF I'm apparently reading, too. MEIN SCHATZ. OVER AND OVER LIKE A RECORD OF DEATH
AND GREAT, NOW I'LL THINK "LOL MARCEL" EVERYTIME HE'S ON SCREEN. THANKS, MAN.
I feel like I should send your dad some Aussie candy. He probably knows more about my country than I do! My dad just mechanically engineers things and looks like Bruce Willis. :(
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Don't forget to watch it in French, too! Rorschach sounds better, Adrian is even more awesome (especially his wonderful monologues and verbal smackdowns) and the Comedian screaming, "Mon visage!" is possibly the greatest thing ever.
WHY IS FREDRICK SO GODDAMN GERMAN IN THAT FIC? AND SHOSANNA WAS SO FRENCH. IT'S A BIZARRO-WORLD VERSION OF THEIR REAL-LIFE PLAY-FIGHTS WITH EACH OTHER.
And there's also particular fic (well, pairing, actually) I'm going to rant in an e-mail about, as it makes me:
Why no, I don't need emotions when I have .gifs.
I THINK THAT WHENEVER I SEE HIM. I SHOULD EVEN ICON IT. NOW YOU CAN JOIN ME BECAUSE DEEP DOWN, YOU KNOW IT'S TRUE. He's also an under-developed (purposely, I believe) character with zero chemistry with Shosanna (I LOVE how casting Shosanna depended on the chemistry the actress would have with Daniel). So yes, LOL MARCEL.
He just enjoys learning about everywhere else that isn't America; he's been encouraging me to go to France since I was a child. LOOKING LIKE BRUCE WILLIS IS AWESOME. I love Die Hard and Moonlighting.
If you'd like, here's our local paper: http://www.daytondailynews.com/
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There we go!
Icon you say?
Remember that time Daniel said "It's her!" and we died a little from joy? Remember?
Things I learnt from your newspaper: an episode of Extreme Makeover is being filmed in your town, it's 52 degrees (but feels like 48), no-one wants health care, I should have a mammogram. Here's mine, for the hell of it: http://www.theage.com.au. It's like visiting!
LOL MARCEL
Oh God I'm so tired I've crackedEDITED FOR BECAUSE AS IF I CAN'T UPLOAD THIS ICON TOO
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YES. YES TO EVERYTHING.
I didn't want to blurt it out here, as it would offend lj friends (and I don't wanna do that), but it involves a certain detective. Seriously, I feel a wave of nausea spread over me at the thought (our dear War Hero is making an appearance in one soon, too).
I'll always remember what Daniel said. Always, as it lends more to the legitimacy of our dear OTP because casting Shosanna relied on the actress' chemistry with Daniel and OMG it's all too wonderful. Shosanna/Fredrick is canon.
And now I'm all in a tizzy at the front desk, but that's okay. I also keep laughing at LOL MARCEL. I have now added that wonderful icon to my collection (and credited you, of course). Does he even have fans? I don't need any Marcel stans to get fussy with me EVEN THOUGH SHOSANNA AND FREDRICK ARE OTP. My mind's cracked a looooong while ago. It's Tarantino's fault.
I and everyone else I know who isn't a right-wing crackpot wants healthcare. MY GALL-BLADDER WOULD'VE APPRECIATED IT, AMERICA.
Ah, Perth, all upset over Ms. Spears. MC Hammer finally gets some recognition! And I'm so terribly morbid that the story about the murders is fascinating to me.
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YES
PRESENT
(don't get too excited. More tomorrow! <3)
(LOL MARCEL)
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I'll post more Hall & Oates at you if I must ♥
LOL MARCEL, INDEED.