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neon-green-reagent · 26 days

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50 Underrated Horror Films: Part 4

What in absolute hell. We made it to part 4? Well, here we go then! Oh, also, links to the other parts: One : Two : Three

Undead : Starting off with an absolute banger. This is an Australian zombie apocalypse film. If you're familiar with Ozploitation cinema, then you know how nutso it can get, and this is a perfect example of just that. The action sequences are wild crowd pleasers, and the plot twists until it nearly breaks off.

Werewolf in a Girl's Dormitory : I realize that sounds like porn. Just stay with me. It's a giallo! With a werewolf! For me, this was like finding the holy grail. Best of both worlds, truly. With... not the best looking werewolf, but this is an older movie, so cut it a little slack. It turns into a fun mystery with that special Italian flavor to it.

The Outwaters : Everyone was talking about Skinamarink. No one was talking about this. It has a similar conceit. To make a horror film that defies the idea of plot. It starts like your average found footage, then becomes a drug trip straight to the depths. It really does feel like witnessing a cosmic horror story where the horrors are, indeed, impossible to describe.

Tomie : This is the first of me cheating and actually recommending way more than one film. The Tomie film franchise is a series of loose adaptations of Junji Ito's manga of the same name, and there are nine at the moment. They get wild and weird, and they explore parts of Tomie that even the manga doesn't cover. Female monster! You need these in your life.

Murdercise : Low budget silliness trying to be throwback 80s and mostly just being hilarious and noticeably cheap. I love that. It's stupid and seems like the kind of movie that was a blast to make. I definitely felt like I was laughing with them and not at them, which made it feel really charming. A great one for a dumb movie night.

Zombie Death House : Zombies in jail! Directed by John Saxon who strangely didn't case himself in the lead like some vanity project. Rather he plays a character I have dubbed "Colonel Herbert West" if that sounds at all appealing. I mean, it clearly was to me.

Dead Birds : There aren't a ton of horror films that crossover with westerns, so this is a rare gem. A bunch of outlaws take refuge in a deeply disturbed location, and things get super dark.

Satan's Princess : A neo-noir detective story with supernatural evil at its core. Imagine if Angel Heart was dumber and way cheaper looking. With Robert Forster giving a really fun performance and an ending that had me laughing out loud.

Werewolf Bitches from Outer Space : Do you love Troma movies? Do you wish they were worse? Do I have the film for you! With scenes that were clearly filmed without permits. Random bystanders interfering with the production. Terrible werewolf masks. And pizza sex? It's a laugh riot.

Butterfly Kisses : A genuinely upsetting found footage movie that understands exactly how to use the urban legend format. There's a beastie out there that, if you stare at it, it will imprint on you like a baby duck. Then if you blink, it gets a little closer. Try to imagine how long you can go without blinking.

To Die For : Wanna watch a really shitty, late 80s Dracula? Here you go! It's dumber than a box of rocks. No one's motivations make any sense. Dracula seems like kind of a jerk despite being a romantic figure. But most of the actors are hotties and know the silly movie they're in, so it comes out fun in the end. Oh, and no one can agree when it came out. But rest assured I don't mean the one with Nicole Kidman.

Home for the Holidays : Made for TV Christmas slasher! Starring Sally Field. With a whole lot of family drama, which makes it feel authentically connected to the holiday. Merry Christmas! It's March. Ahem.

Welcome to Hell : Heavy metal horror strikes again. This time, a black metal band impregnates and kidnaps a groupie for their dark ritual. She escapes, but they're hot on her trail. The ending is nothing short of a religious experience. WINK.

Isolation : If Alien took place on a farm. With mutant cow fetuses. I swear, there is science that makes some sense of that. And it's not a comedy, I swear! It's actually very nasty with some wonderful body horror.

Dr. Crippen : Based on a real crime of passion and clearly cashing in on the Psycho craze. It's a strange one to recommend, because it's based on a true event, and the movie leans pretty hard in the bad doctor's favor. But it's worth it if you're a fan of Donald Pleasence. He gets to be his strange, little self and also be the star for once.

Tamara : What a mid-2000s romp this is. A good girl gets treated like garbage and goes bad in a witchy-demon-spell kinda way. Jenna Dewan as Tamara is perfect in every way. Gives me the gay.

Dark Harvest : Don't be like "oh, I've heard of that, didn't that just come out last year?" Yep, and everyone ignored it. When it was pretty fucking great. Set in a cursed town that openly sacrifices their kids to a fantastic monster by the name of Sawtooth Jack. His head is full of candy. Like. Go watch it.

Night Screams : Regional 80s slasher where a guy dies getting his face grilled. I'm pretty sure that shouldn't have killed him. And there are like three killers by the end? Did it before Scream, just saying. Enjoy the vibes on this one.

The Third Saturday in October Part Five and Part One : Speaking of slashers. These low budget gems came out last year, and there was a cute, little gimmick to it. You're supposed to watch five, then one. It simulates growing up pre-internet. You walk into the video store, and all they have is part five. You decide to rent it, even though you've never seen the first one. Then a week later, you find one. This really worked for me. Gave me nostalgic feelings. Please, if you watch them, try it this way.

The Vampire Doll : What if Japan made a Hammer film? Well, here it is. With one of my favorite tropes: a super cute couple investigates the horrors!

Night Feeder : Genuinely the best shot-on-video horror film I've ever seen. It actually fooled me. I thought I was watching a bad VHS rip, but no, this was not shot on film. It's stylish, clearly better than you'd expect, weird, dark, and has a really bad rock band in it.

Older Gods : Low budget and full of heart and also Lovecraftian horrors. If you're reading this and care, to me it felt as if someone wrote an original story around Azathoth. Which is cool, because no one ever uses him in anything. Also, if you're like, "so what does that mean?" It means that reality is up for debate in this one.

Cheerleader Camp : One of those that people clamor for when you talk about movies that still need a proper physical media release. I see why. It's extremely fun with its tongue lodged in its cheek. It uses every slasher trope and laughs hysterically while doing so.

Below : I love my underwater horror, and this delivers wonderfully. Haunted submarine, dude. But honestly, that wasn't the scariest part. The plot was cool, and I enjoyed the mystery, yeah yeah. But more to the point, everything that can go wrong... does. Imagine being trapped at the bottom of the ocean in a giant, metal coffin. BRR!

The Werewolf and the Yeti : How many werewolf movies are on this list? Uh, shut up. As I was saying, this is great. Paul Naschy brings a massively enjoyable werewolf flick our way again. With all his swashbuckling charm. By the time the yeti shows up, so much awesome shit had happened that I forgot he was supposed to fight a yeti. I mean...

Subspecies : And how many vampire movies are on this list? SHUT UP I SAID. Anyway. Another where I mean the whole series. All of them. Radu, the main villain, is a joy. Michelle's story arc is super dramatic and full of that Interview with the Vampire angst. Special mention to the second film, which goes all out with the gore effects.

The Hills Run Red : A horror movie about horror movies. A lost film has gained a cult following, and a bunch of dumb college kids decide to track it down. You can guess how that goes. William Sadler steals the entire movie when he shows up. Babyface also has iconic slasher energy.

Abby : This one's underrated because the filmmakers got sued by the guys that made The Exorcist and lost. This is essentially the black version of The Exorcist, and it's so good that I'm depressed we'll never get a great release of it. Carol Speed is amazing as Abby. William Marshall, Blacula himself, is in it. Track this down and get mad about it with me.

The Appointment : What the hell is this. Even I'm not sure. Edward Woodward crashes his car. I mean, I don't know what else to say about it. The film ramps up the tension and dread until a ridiculously Rube Goldberg thing happens, and you have to experience it.

Frostbiter : Another of those movies made with ten cents and a lot of gumption. A bunch of people wanted to make Evil Dead II, and so they did that. They even put an Evil Dead II poster in the cabin they filmed in, so that you wouldn't even wonder about what inspired it. Also, special mention to the chili song.

Hell's Highway : Have you ever seen a movie that was really cheap and goofy, but you could see EXACTLY how it would've looked if they'd just had the money? This is that movie. Every special effect fails. Everything's so awkward and odd. But you can tell what they MEANT for it to be. So bad it's good and then some.

Dance of the Damned : Vampire. Sorry. So this one is about a vampire who wishes he could stop living eternally, because it sucks to live that long and be so alone. He finds a sex worker who is also feeling like she wishes things would just end, and they share their pain with each other. Way better than it has any right to be, mullet and all.

The Werewolf of Washington : Werewolf. I really am sorry. Dean Stockwell plays a truly adorable werewolf. And nothing about it is meant to be taken seriously at all. Gives An American Werewolf in London a run for its money in the goober department.

The Curse of Kazuo Umezu : From the man who brought you The Drifting Classroom comes... this! It's a pair of strange tales. One about a vampire, fuck, I'm sorry. And one about a haunted house that even the narrator can't figure out what's going on. Horror anime!

Lo : A young man has recently lost his love. She was dragged to hell. That old chestnut. So he summons a demon named Lo to try to get her back. With a twist that'll make you go, wait, I thought this was a comedy?

The Spider Labyrinth : This one recently got a really nice release, and I'm so glad, because it's bonkers. A young fella is sent to Budapest to find a lost professor. Instead he finds a cult. Uh oh.

End of the Line : Apocalypse horror that turns your brain inside out just a bit. A religious cult has decided it's the end of the world, and they start executing innocents so they'll "go to heaven." Are they brainwashed or is the world actually ending? You decide!

Off Balance AKA Phantom of Death : Just barely a Phantom of the Opera riff. A pianist discovers he has a rare genetic disorder that threatens to cut his career short. Also, he's kinda losing it. Starring Michael York, Donald Pleasence, Edwige Fenech, directed by Ruggero Deodato, oh my GOD!

The Lure : Killer mermaids. Well, sirens. Kind of a mix. It's also a musical. And about how awful the entertainment industry is for young women. It's also super gory, and they eat people. Truly little else out there is like this.

Redneck Zombies : What do you want me to say? It's a Troma film. It's called... that. I'm pointing. I'm pointing at the title. That's the movie. Just... Right? Yeah?

The Killer Reserved Nine Seats : Another of those gialli that is really just And Then There Were None. But the nice part is that Italy likes to get more sexual, violent, and fucking awful than Agatha Christie ever dreamed. This one also takes place in an old theater, so the vibes are choice.

Mary Reilly : I always include at least one entry in these lists that begs the question, "how did this become underrated?" And obscure, that too. When it's a Jekyll and Hyde retelling with an emphasis on the gothic and lush, starring Julia Roberts and John Malkovich? By the way, I heard people hated it because of Roberts' terrible Irish accent. Damn, dude, I've heard way worse, fake accents than that. Anyway, this is fantastic. Watch it.

The Forest : One of those slashers where I thought I understood what I was getting into, but I did not. There's a man living in the woods who went postal on his cheating wife one day. The ghosts of his family are also haunting the woods. And he's a cannibal who feeds a guy his own girlfriend. I need other people to watch this so that I can be assured it was real.

Autopsy (2008) : I put a year, because there are around 800 horror films with that title. To further narrow it down, it's the one where Robert Patrick plays basically Herbert West fused with Mr. Freeze, and Jenette Goldstein is his nurse, and they chase a bunch of college kids around for science. Kind of a pitch black comedy with torture porn aspects, and I loved it.

Glorious : A guy gets trapped in a public restroom, which is horrifying enough. Then a cosmic horror god starts talking to him from a bathroom stall. He gives him the assignment of helping to stop the end of the world. The god is J.K. Simmons, and the whole thing is a delightful bottle movie.

Nightmare Detective : From the director that brought you Tetsuo: The Iron Man... Do I have your attention? Comes the Japanese Nightmare on Elm Street! That's oversimplifying, but that is my elevator pitch. It involves all sorts of dream powers and psychic battles that will blow your socks off.

House of Lost Souls : Directed by Umberto Lenzi, which means it feels as doobery as Ghosthouse. It's about a hotel desperate to decapitate you, and it has the silliest dialogue and acting known to man. Special mention to psychic powers being cited as a "rational explanation."

The Cleansing Hour : A priest who livestreams fake exorcisms has to rumble with a real demon. Super fun character piece where a conman has to look his sins dead in the eye. Truly obsessed with this one. Also, super fun demon effects. With Kyle Gallner, everyone's favorite scream king.

Deathrow Gameshow : What if Airplane was super violent? Or The Running Man was a dumb comedy? This hits the sweetest spot, where the humor is idiotic and the violence is cartoonishly nasty. This will speak to the sort of person, like myself, who wants their comedy to be indigestible for most audience goers.

Double Blind : This is a very recent release. A diverse group take part in a double blind drug test. Things go so extremely bad. I won't give anything away, because part of the fun is the unfolding chaos.

I can't believe I managed to do that again. Enjoy! I hope you find some new favorites from this list.

#horror #horror films #80s horror #horror movies #horror recs #horror recommendations

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animebw · 8 months

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So the live action One Piece is really, really good.

I know, far from the first person to say it. But it really must be stressed how absolutely bonkers it is that One Piece, of all anime properties, is what breaks the live-action adaptation curse in the West. So many attempts at adapting far more live-action friendly stories like Death Note and Cowboy Bebop ended up complete disasters, and yet it's perhaps the most unabashedly cartoonish anime franchise, the one defined by how it takes advantage of drawing and animation to portray people, places and things that would be completely unfeasable in the real world, that shows how to translate this medium to live action without losing what makes it special in the first place. It's not a perfect adaptation, but it pretty much nails everything it needs to, capturing the heart of this story in all its most important moments and making smart changes that serve its new form as a binge-worthy Netflix drop. So let's talk about the things I liked, the few areas I think it fell short, and how I think future seasons should play out! Spoilers, obviously.

The Good:

-The most important thing to get right was the casting, and they nailed it: all the Straw Hats and their supporting cast are just about perfect. Inaki Godoy just is Luffy, Emily Rudd does a fantastic job shouldering the season's core emotional weight as Nami, Vincent Regan steals the show every time Garp is on screen, and Jeff Ward is an absolute riot as Buggy. Special shout-out as well to Morgan Davies for nailing Koby's expanded screen time.

-Speaking of, I love how Koby and Helmeppo's title-card story is fleshed out into a proper B-plot throughout this season. Following their journey under Garp's command is a perfect way to introduce us to the Navy's inner workings and the more explicitly political side of the story up front, as well as foreshadowing plenty of future story beats to come.

-The action. Is. So. Good. Thank god we're finally remembering how to film proper hand-to-hand brawls, cause every punch-up is a blast to watch.

-Luffy actually has more of an arc here than he does in the manga! Manga Luffy can be a pretty static character a lot of the time, which I know is kind of his appeal, but this adaptation gives him a bit more to work with as he grapples with the responsibility of being a captain and the consequences his mistakes can have for his crew.

-Seriously Buggy is so fucking funny they nailed him so perfectly

-Putting more of a focus on Nami's struggles throughout the season was a great way to give it more structure for a binge format. Her emotional journey is really the heart of this adaptation as we watch her go from a paraniod recluse to fully embracing the Straw Hats as her new family.

-One benefit to being live action and produced in America? Way, way less casual sexism. Dare I hope that future seasons will avoid ruining Sanji's character among other pitfalls Oda fell into? Fingers crossed!

-The production design is immaculate. It strikes the perfect balance between the wacky cartoonishness of One Piece's world and the demands of filming in live action.

-Fantastic soundtrack too! It knows just where to deploy instrumental renditions of We Are while charting its own musical identity.

The Bad

-Some of the dialogue is a liiiiiiittle cringey? I know dialogue has never been OP's strongest suit, but there are definitely a few moments that feel overly anachronistic and "how do you do fellow kids?" There's a moment Buggy jokes about toxic fandom that really made me roll my eyes (especially since the OP fandom has by and large really embraced this adaptation, so it comes off like a cheap shot at a demographic of haters that doesn't even really exist).

-While the camerawork and editing are pretty great, the color grading is very much... not. Can we please stop shooting everything in boring desaturated yellows and greys and start lighting our night scenes so we can actually see what's going on?

-Shockingly, it's the strongest parts from the manga- the backstories- that I feel suffered the most here. Some of that's due to most of the child actors not being that great, which, well, that's a risk you take with child actors. But it also cuts out a lot of the personal culpability that made a lot of those backstories so compelling? Like how Sanji used to be pretty wasteful with food until his experience stranded on an island taught him how important it was to respect every bite? That aspect of his character is completely missing in his flashback here.

-Hoo boy, they made some... choices with how they depicted Arlong's crew. I know the Fishmen are a big racism/discrimination metaphor, but between the trap music that plays whenever they show up, their overall "urban gangsta" fashion aesthetic and the design of Arlong Park, the fact Arlong himself is played by a black actor... there is some coding going on here, is my point. And considering how much I hated the direction this story arc went in Fishman Island, that does not give me confidence in this adaptation's ability to escape sucking just as much on that front.

Future Season Wish List:

Season 2: The Alabasta saga, starting with the arrival at Roguetown and ending with Vivi's send-off

Season 3: The Water Seven saga, maybe with a brief stop in Skypiea beforehand but not long enough to get bogged down in there like the manga did

Season 4: Possibly controversial, but I think this should take us to the timeskip. Spend an episode or two in Thriller Bark but cut out all the bullshit, one episode in Sabaody for the Shit Gets Real(tm) section, one episode in Amazon Lily, then onto Impel Down and the Marineford showdown, with one episode dedicated to the fallout of that battle and getting us to the timeskip.

Season 5: Big focus here should be Dressrosa IMO. If you must spend some time in Fishman Island then do it, probably don't need that much time in Punk Hazard since barely anything happens there, then get into the thick of Dressrosa.

Season 6: This should be the Wano season. One episode in Zou, maybe a couple in Whole Cake Island to set up Big Mom, (honestly we might not even need the extra Sanji backstory if this adaptation gets rid of his worst traits), then get straight into Wano so you have all the time you need for all those moving parts. Also, Gear 5 Luffy in live-action should just be him turning into his anime self Roger Rabbit style. Tell me that wouldn't rule.

#anime #tabw #the anime binge watcher #one piece #one piece live action #one piece netflix

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random-writing-shit · 10 months

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Chapter 1: The Beginning of Everything.

Keefe felt paralyzed as his heart beat faster than a mad horse, while his ankle felt like the hottest flames of hell due to him spraining it a mere 15 minutes ago.

Screaming would be useless as he were in an abandoned wing, consequently leaving the only voice to reply being his own from an echo.

Screaming would, additionally, cause him a quicker death, which was the opposite of what the young prince wanted.

Either way, he couldn’t; his fear stopped him.

For months, raiders had been stealing and attacking the kingdoms of the West. Raiders were, unfortunately, a common occurrence in their nations. However, these raiders were a united force, leaving a single symbol to indicate their presence.

Each kingdom had tried assembling a pattern, but the raids were random– none had surfaced in either number, merchant, time, date, or order; nothing. Just a menacing symbol of an eye hidden where the stolen object used to be or graffitied where anyone passing by could see it.

The raiders never seen, never heard, never found, always merciless.

The rare times a witness caught a glimpse of the raiders, the unfortunate witness was found dead with the symbol of the raiders burnt into their forehead like a brand they had to bear unwillingly.

Despite this, the monarchs of each kingdom facing these raids and their advisors had managed to cooperate. They noticed that the more these raids happened, the other crimes decreased, such as arson, murder (those unrelated to the raiders), robberies, riots, everything you could name.

It seemed that this organization of raiders was hiring or killing every last criminal free from the law.

And soon, Keefe would be killed by one of those raiders.

The raider’s footsteps had stopped– and Keefe’s heart stopped as well.

Was that an indication that they were sneaking up on him?

And the door-

Perhaps the raider locked it.

Why was the raider here?

Would anyone care to save him?

Would anyone care at all?

Would anyone care if he died?

The raider’s footsteps stopped-

No.

No-

It couldn’t be the end.

It couldn’t be the end of his bloodline.

He would be the first Crown Prince to die from a raider, but not the first noble.

He started praying for the salvation of some kind.

The door creaked.

“Your Highness?” A voice called into the hall.

Keefe held his breath out of fear for this new person.

“If you’re hiding, it isn’t funny!” The defiant voice continued as he heard footsteps approach his hiding spot; those of the raider or this bold person, Keefe was unsure. “Your father wishes for your presence in court and told me to drag you by the ear if I have to.”

The voice got closer to Keefe’s hiding spot with each word until the owner had found him: a girl with small braids in her blonde hair and ice-blue eyes.

Keefe faintly remembered her from a ceremony, but which one he couldn’t recall.

“Your Highness, this is no time to play foolish games. Surely, you know that!”

“O- of course. I- I was merely playing a game! A- a jest or a trick, if you will,” the baffled prince stuttered through his answer.

The blonde rolled her eyes. “As I said a few seconds ago, if you were listening, your father demands your presence at court now.”

“I- of course. Let us depart now. I know my father doesn’t like waiting when he summons me.”

The guard pulled him to his feet, and they left the wing.

Keefe quickly shut it and started limping away from it as fast as he could with the guard’s aid.

As soon as Keefe knew he was in a safe space (or at least one with more guards), he stopped and breathed in relief.

“I cannot thank you enough. I was afraid that I was on the door of death. My heart felt like a mad horse.”

“It is simply my duty, your Highness. You are the only heir to the throne, and my duty as a soldier and citizen is to serve the kingdom in any little way I can. I saw you run past my station with a raider in tow, and I couldn’t stand by knowing that you were in danger.”

“Even then, I owe my life to you, er…” he trailed off embarrassedly.

“Marella. Just Marella. No nicknames.”

“Well, in that case, I owe my life to you, Marella.”

“ I agree that I have saved your life, but your ankle seems to hurt. Shall I take you to the physician for treatment?”

“Yes, please. I do not wish to be named the lazy heir,” Keefe joked with a grimace..

[=]

Once his ankle healed and he could walk without a limp, he requested a court audience with his parents.

His parents had heard of their son resting in the physician’s wing, but they had yet to learn about what happened to Keefe and accepted the requested audience as quickly as Keefe had sent it.

His father was King Cassius, the sixth of his name, while his mother was Queen Gisela, the youngest daughter of the Nightfall kingdom. The king and queen never made time for Keefe amidst their royal duties, leaving Keefe to his own devices.

He had regularly spent time with his twin cousins, that had grown up alongside him when his uncle and aunt, King Adalius and Queen Violet of the Moonfire kingdom, passed away.

Currently, his cousins were in their kingdom, preparing for their coronations as they settled political and economic problems. Keefe missed them dearly, yet he knew it was for the best.

The rare times his parents cast a single glance at him, it concerned his education and royal duties. In this time of rebellion, Keefe was lucky to get an audience when his father and mother were busy dealing with the losses of the raids.

The guards to the throne room had been reluctant to allow Marella to enter the room with Keefe as she had grown loyal to him ever since she saved him. Keefe, unwilling to let Marella leave his side, told the guards that Marella was a valuable witness.

The guards were reluctant as ever but pulled back their spears blocking the entrance to the throne room.

Without waiting for them to open the doors or announce him, Keefe pushed them open and barged into a chaotic court.

Multiple ladies fanned themselves furiously as their cakey makeup ran down their faces for reasons Keefe couldn’t tell.

The ladies that weren’t fanning themselves were in four categories: bored, gossiping, attempting to calm the men down, or arguing.

His mother closed her eyes as if she were staying out of this while his father argued with the lords next to him. They both looked like they had headaches.

“Is the court always like this?” Marella whispered to him.

“I assume,” Keefe whispered back. “I’m never invited to court frequently enough to know.”

It took approximately 20 minutes for his father to notice him, but it took another 10 for the court to calm down until his mother gave the signal for silence.

As soon as the room was utterly silent, Keefe wasted no time in telling what had happened to him.

By the end of his story, his father’s eyes were stormy and forming a plan.

[=]

A month and a half later, Keefe was ready to set sail.

The timing was perfect; his father and the other monarchs had been ready to send their heirs to sign treaties of unity ever since they discovered the symbol of the Neverseen, the name the kingdoms decided to give the rebels.

As far as Keefe was concerned, the treaties stated that if the kingdoms suffered a loss in this period of raids, the other nations would send aid of some sort.

Lumenaria was the agreed rendezvous for the treaty signing with no protest.

Pre-dating the birth of written records, Lumenaria had been a sacred ground for signing treaties of all varieties.

Despite that, Keefe worried that he would accidentally cause a war rather than make allies for a battle if it happened.

Keefe was famous in gossip circles for provoking pranks and aggravating certain people that didn’t have the shortest tempers, as reported by Marella, who was well-versed in gossip circles of that sort.

A voice cleared behind him, chasing his doubts away.

He turned, saw Marella in royal bodyguard apparel, and his jaw dropped in shock.

In a short time, they formed a familial bond. However, if she’d mentioned this, Keefe had forgotten.

“Marella! What- when? You didn’t tell me!”

Marella rubbed the back of her head nervously, which was also a new sight as Marella had always been confident around him, and laughed humbly.

“It was a last-minute promotion. Your parents saw it fit that I was to accompany you as my training has concluded. Plus, any bodyguard you have had in the past quits almost immediately. My father panicked when royal guards showed up at our door.”

Keefe laughed, not unkindly.

“Well, congratulations! You deserve it. It seems like I don’t have to stow you away in one of the crates anymore,” he joked.

Before they boarded the ship, Keefe took one last look at his homeland and future kingdom, praying to any deity that would listen that he got back home. Preferably unscathed with all limbs intact instead of his body scarred from war and a scowl on his face. Preferably with his people still loyal to him and his bloodline.

He took in the towering spires of the castle he called home and turned away, praying for safe passage.

Keefe deeply breathed in the sea air and didn’t look back as soon as the sails were let loose.

#kotlc #keeper of the lost cities #kotlc keefe #keefe sencen #kam #kotlc kam #keefe x tam #kotlc marella #marella redek

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mahayanapilgrim · 9 months

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"Trungpa Rinpoche told this story about how he once was sitting in a garden with Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche, one of his most important teachers. They were just enjoying their time together in the beautiful setting, hardly saying anything, simply happy to be there with each other.

Then Khyentse Rinpoche pointed and said, 'They call that a "tree."' and both of them roared with laughter.

For me this is a wonderful illustration of the freedom and enjoyment that await us when we stop being fooled by our labels. The two enlightened teachers thought it was a riot that this complex, changing phenomenon, with all its leaves and bark and fragrance, could be thought of merely as a 'tree. As our labels loosen their grip on us, we too will start to experience our world in this lighter, more magical way."

This is a poem written by Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche to Chogyam Trungpa.

As old man Brilliant Moon travels in the sky, Prince Ocean of Dharma remains on the ground;

Though in the illusion of circumstance, there seems to be great distance between,

In the mind's heart-realm of one flavor, separations do not exist.

Brilliant Moon's light-garland streams from heaven's height,

From the moment it touches Ocean of Dharma on the ground

It becomes activity for the welfare of others, dispelling the torment of the dark age;

Since in the absolute meaning there is no separation, this self-expression of auspicious coincidence occurs.

The only father Padma Drime's shoot of wisdom

Blossoms by design in Ocean of Dharma's pond, Brilliant Moon pours on the amrita of truth-

There is no other way for us to meet again and again.

From cool Ocean of Dharma, rivers in the four directions, East, west, south, north, temporarily flow

But since they are one in the great ocean of buddha-activity for the welfare of the teachings and beings, The prince enters the one realm of Brilliant Moon.

Little teardrops trickle from the corners of the eyes of the only son,

And a vivid sadness arises in the old father's mind -moon-

This is the fruition of our mutual prayer not to be separated throughout our lives;

Having confidence in this, we rest in uncontrived innate space.

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dragonstepp · 5 months

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Stalking

I think there are a lot of people here who do not understand the meaning of stalking. So here is how it goes.

Years ago, when there was no social media, an actress who played the sidekick of a star who was so "loved" on her that a "he" shot and killed her. That was in the days when California gave out information from her driver's license. Soon after, California made a law that no addresses could be given out from driver license information. I am certain that that was a problem with other people, but it was the only one that made the news.on

Stalking was not limited to celebrities. There was a horrific story out of New York City about a woman who was stabbed to death in her apartment doorway by a stalker, as was learned when he was caught, while others stood around and did not stop the killing.

John Lennon was stalked by a man who was trying to get the attention of another actress (name withheld to In others from getting ideas), and he was shot December 8, 1980. Caused a lot of distress from some who were great fans of John, and jealously of the Beatles.

In 2009, I became a fan of Celtic Thunder, the Irish/Scot singers. I wrote blogs on-line for them, and got to actually meet them in 2010. But there was no fanatic actions toward them. Unfortunately, that was not true from women fans (of all ages), especially for Ryan Kelly. I think that was true of all of the singers, but somehow, a bunch of women in New Jersey took it too far, and as he was out walking one day, they started a riot, chasing him, as he ran for his life. One girl even broke her arm and went to the hospital. But Ryan had to get a body guard for the rest of their tour. He also was so terrified, he considered quitting Celtic Thunder, even was so scared he fell off (or jumped?) off a riser and was in a hospital with a coma for some time.

With social media, Sam Heughan has become so desired that on this site, there are those who report his every move, send photos, and even question who he is dating, when and where.

Now I have been called out here because I comment on their stalking. They deny it is what they are doing. But it is, and even if they are not actually stalking, but reporting what someone is telling him, but you simply do not know how many of them are reading these comments, and acting on them. Depending on getting the information they want.

Some report what he is saying on Instagram (IG), so I am sorry/glad to tell you Sam does not use social networks, of any kind. He has people behind him who keep him informed of what is going on, and they are they ones who are writing on the networks. This is definitely true.

There was this topic written into an episode of The West Wing. Josh discovered a site that was talking about him, telling lies, making up stories, not having clue about his private life. Josh decided to rely to them, and it only made it worse. He got even more publicity from his getting involved, and one of the other people had to tell him to quit it.

Sam is a loving person, but if he hasn't already, he is going to go into hiding, to keep people from finding him, even probably disrupting his own private life. I understand someone actually found out his home address and had it published in some public publication. That must have brought some weirdos to stalk him even further.

You who keep giving out private information, I don't care if he does get out in public sometimes for lunch or dinner or a date. He does make himself open to photos, even his own selfies, though he seems to have stopped that finally, but I suspect even that is going to stop soon. The man probably is going to have to go into true privacy, maybe even think his public career, if he gets, is getting, threats from some mistaken fans who believe he belongs to him. One woman in Argentina even posts that he is her husband.

I am considering out of tumblr altogether because it hurts my heart to see how much certain people here are telling me things I don't think should be published about him. I don't want to be around to hear that anyone has confronted him with the idea that he belongs to them.

It is bad enough that I am constantly contacted using my username while impersonating him, jealous because they are not him, or trying to find women by using his name, or MPC, or even the Great Glen Company to get my attention.

Facebook kicked me out several times as I tried to use them for political discussions, or to learn about Scottish food. I finally decided they want only salacious news, about not only Sam, but Keanu, Donnie, Donn, Graham, others. I do not use Twitter (X) or Google Chat or even my email has been hacked, so I don't have email any longer (after trying several times). Google wants too much information now to try and get rid of robots.

Social media was never intended for damaging people, but was meant to simply be a network where we could meet others of the same mind. It is a shame that social networks these days for lying, snarking, opening people to stalkers, or pedophiles and abductors and innocents.

What has this world come to.

I love and respect Sam Heughan, but I cannot trust my ability to try and keep up with him any longer.

Carol in Austin

#stalkers #celebrities

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morganaspendragonss · 2 years

Text

if night falls in your heart (1/?)

yes, it's the long-awaited hypothermia/plane au which i've been, ahem, 'writing' since february. and, yes, you read that right. there's going to be multiple chapters. god help me. a million thanks to all the anons who have been asking about this fic and also to my wonderful betas @moviegeek03 and @tarlos-spain who were there when i was having crises and helped me push through the difficulties. it's because of them that you're getting this fic today and not in another few months. warnings and words counts will be posted for each individual chapter. title from start a riot by banners inspired by these asks ao3 | 2.4k | hurt/comfort, blood and injury, heart condition, hospitals

His heart feels like it’s about to beat out of his chest.

It’s the excitement, he’s sure, and the fact that he’s been dancing for a while.

He’s okay.

He could do with some water though.��

There’s no air in here, not with the mass of warm bodies moving and constantly pressing up against him.

The water pitcher is across the room, and it feels like he’s moving through treacle as he crosses the impossible distance towards it.

But then, suddenly, he’s there, and his hand is shaking as he reaches for the jug.

It’s too heavy, though, and it slips out of his grasp immediately, the shattering barely reaching his ears as a wave of dizziness overtakes him.

TK gasps, and then the world goes dark.

The first sign that something is wrong is the tremble in TK’s arms as he hands Jonah back to Gwyn. Carlos tries not to worry too much because things like that happen these days; TK’s recovery has been going well, but he still gets a little shaky after significant exertion, and dancing around with a baby for nearly an hour definitely qualifies.

But his face is too pale and his breathing too shallow, which immediately brings all his fears back.

The sound of glass breaking into a million pieces silences the room, and Carlos whips around just in time to see TK wavering in place, empty fist still outstretched as the water jug lies in jagged shards at his feet. He runs, but, short though the distance is, he doesn’t make it before TK crumbles.

He crashes to his knees, heedless of the broken glass, and his hands are hovering over TK, ready to shake him, when he spots it.

The pool of blood slowly spreading out from TK’s prone form, and the shard piercing all the way through his shoulder.

“Capt—” he starts, but she’s already there, gently moving him out of the way to bend over TK. Carlos lets himself be pushed back, even as it reminds him of the hospital, of gloved hands shoving him out of the room as TK lay there dying.

But, that time, the doctors had closed the curtains when things became too serious. That time, Carlos had sat in a waiting room chair, having to imagine all the things that could be happening inside Room 308 of West Park Memorial’s ICU.

This time, he has a front row seat as wires are connected to TK’s chest and the Lifepak emits a series of rapid beeps, as Tommy rattles off endless stats and Nancy inserts an IV into the back of TK’s hand.

Carlos can almost feel the snow whipping around them, can almost hear the wind howling, and the pain on Nancy and Tommy’s faces say that he’s not the only one. Distantly, he’s aware of Grace ushering the twins outside, of the crew’s hushed mutterings, of Tommy’s instructions to Nancy intermingled with firm pleas to TK.

But all he’s really, truly conscious of is the way TK’s blood stands out against his white shirt and the paleness of his face.

He’s pushed even further back when Judd and Paul descend with the backboard, and Carlos is stuck on his knees as TK is loaded into the ambulance. His eyes fix on the blood staining the newly-laid flooring, watching as it starts to creep towards the fabric of his dress pants, and he almost jumps out of his skin when a gentle hand lands on his shoulder.

“Come on,” Gwyn says, helping him to his feet. “We need to be there.”

Carlos nods and takes a step forward, before his eyes find Owen’s and he stops abruptly. “Owen—”

“Owen’s going to follow us in the car,” she replies, her tone suggesting that it was less of a choice on Owen’s part than an order on hers. Any other time, Carlos might question it, or at least offer to stay back himself, but Tommy is shouting at them to hurry up if they want to ride along, and the thought of being away from TK now has him almost tripping over his feet in his rush to get to the ambulance.

Tommy smiles gently at him when he gets in. “His stats are returning to normal,” she says. “They’ll run some tests at the hospital and we’ll get this figured out, I promise.”

Carlos wants to believe her. But TK is still unconscious and this isn’t supposed to be happening at all, he’s supposed to be better—

“I… We just got him back,” he whispers.

Tommy nods, leaning over from her position by TK’s head to squeeze his knee. “He’s not going anywhere,” she says, but the look on her face tells Carlos that she knows it’s another promise she can’t be guaranteed to keep.

Still, Carlos nods; he needs this one thing to hold on to.

Gwyn slides in next to him, the space really too tight for the both of them, but none of them seem to care. Her eyes are shiny and her lips tremble as she tries to smile, even when it’s clear that, like him, she’s barely holding it together. And when she offers her hand, Carlos doesn’t hesitate to take it, gripping on tight as the doors slam shut and the ambulance starts up.

TK is awake by the time they’re let back to see him, thoroughly disoriented and clearly in extreme levels of pain. The doctors have put him on some non-opioid based medication, but it evidently doesn’t hold a candle to the stronger stuff, if the creases on TK’s face are anything to go by.

They’ve also given him a nasal cannula; yet another reminder of those long days when TK’s recovery had been anything but certain.

Carlos had been so relieved when TK had started to fight that day — he’d thought, naively, that they could only go up from there. And then the doctor had arrived, and she’d pulled him straight back down to Earth.

“This is a positive sign,” she’d said, in a tone that Carlos just knew meant a ‘but’ was to follow. “But the next few days are crucial. He is beginning to fight back, but the effort of waking up would have been immense, and it would have put significant strain on his heart. We’ll need to keep a careful eye on his vitals just in case he begins to backslide.”

Carlos can’t forget the terror those words had sent through him. The idea they could get this miracle, only for it to be snatched away just as quickly… It didn’t bear thinking about.

“How likely is that to happen?”

“It’s not impossible. His chances are significantly better than they were a couple of hours ago, but we need to wait and run a few more tests before getting too comfortable.”

But TK had proved them all wrong, and he had made it back to his old self.

Only, now… Well, TK may not have died, but it still feels like the miracle is fading in Carlos’s grasp.

It’s crueller this way, he thinks.

“How are you feeling, babe?” he asks, sitting gingerly on the edge of the bed. He reaches out and rubs TK’s hand — the one not immobilised — with his thumb, then gently brings it to his lips.

TK sighs and his eyes flutter shut, though the pained lines remain. “Tired.” A breath, and he moves the hand Carlos was holding to his chest, fingers brushing the edge of the bandage on his shoulder. “Hurts.”

“I know. I’m so sorry, baby.” Carlos retakes TK’s hand but he’s forced to look away as tears fill his vision. It’s not going to be long before the doctor walks through the doors to tell them TK’s prognosis, and he has no idea what he’s going to do if it’s bad news.

If TK isn’t going to get better this time…

Carlos won’t be able to handle it.

“Babe?”

Carlos immediately looks over at the sound of TK’s weak voice, brushing away his tears with his free hand. He knows neither that nor the wobbly smile he tries will do much to disguise his pain, but he’s just hoping that TK won’t be able to see it in his current condition.

But of course — of course — he’s wrong.

“Are… Are you okay?”

He strokes a hand over TK’s head and gently kisses his temple. “I’m fine,” he lies.

Carlos knows TK sees through him, but he’s spared the effort of arguing when Gwyn and Owen walk back into the room, followed by Doctor Patel. They both look drained, faces drawn as they come to flank TK, Owen giving Carlos a solitary pat on the shoulder.

Doctor Patel looks around at all four of them and sighs softly. “I have good news and bad news,” she says. “The bad news is that it seems TK’s heart suffered more damage than we originally thought. The results we’re seeing so far indicate that his EF number is significantly below normal, which means he’s at higher risk for heart failure, arrhythmias, future coronary problems… What happened today was a mild demonstration of this.”

“Mild?” Gwyn interjects, a sharp edge to her tone. “He collapsed, he—”

“Mom.” TK’s breath of a voice cuts her off and he squints up at her in something resembling reproach. “Let her talk.”

Doctor Patel smiles sympathetically at Gwyn. “I understand, Ms. Morgan. I imagine it will not be much comfort, but TK’s current state has more to do with his shoulder injury and the blood loss stemming from that. His collapsing is a concern, but it is in line with what we can expect to see with conditions such as his, though, of course, we will need to do more tests to determine the extent of the damage. In layman’s terms, what happened today was akin to a minor heart attack, but it could have been much worse.

“I advise you to proceed with great caution, Mr. Strand. Fortunately, the good news is there are treatment options we can pursue, but they’re not foolproof. Depending on what your results say, we may need to consider changes to your lifestyle.”

With that bombshell dropped, Doctor Patel nods at them and leaves the room. Carlos sighs and slumps in his chair as she goes, partly in relief that it wasn’t worse, and partly in despair that it could have been.

And, worse, still could be.

He holds TK’s hand between both of his and squeezes as tight as he can, as if, somehow, it will keep TK alive.

“I’m taking him to New York,” Gwyn announces on the day of TK’s discharge. They’ve all been sent out to the waiting room as the nurses run some final tests, and both Owen and Carlos turn to stare at her. Owen looks tired and there’s a tick in his jaw that speaks for the argument that’s soon to follow, while Carlos can’t summon up much more emotion than confusion and a surge of the worry that’s been lingering ever since TK first fell through the ice, if he’s being honest with himself.

Jonah, for his part, quietly continues trying to chew on Gwyn’s hair.

“I think it would be good for him,” she continues, expertly sweeping her hair away from Jonah and replacing it with a toy. “Besides, I have a contact in Manhattan, she’s the best cardiologist in the state and I think she should take a look at TK. I don’t trust the doctors here.”

Owen lifts his gaze to the ceiling in a gesture Carlos can only partially sympathise with. Owen hadn’t been here when the doctors had said there was nothing they could do, and a bitter, undoubtedly unfair, part of Carlos has to wonder if another doctor might have been able to. Plus, after all this, he really wouldn’t mind a second opinion on how TK really is. A third and a fourth, too; anything so long as he gets the reassurance he craves.

It’s the New York part Carlos is getting stuck on.

“Could we not just take him to another doctor here?” he puts in quietly, though he almost regrets it when Gwyn turns her gaze on him — he should really have learned by now that arguing with Gwyneth Morgan is not a good idea.

“It took the doctors here months to find out about this,” she says. There’s a sharpness in her look and tone that Carlos knows isn’t directed fully at him, but it’s still intimidating to be on the other end of. “TK could have died. I want to be certain that my son is going to get better this time, and I’d rather trust somebody I know than a stranger.”

“Gwyn,” Owen starts, “he’s… TK needs to rest. Is it really a smart idea to drag him across the country so soon after — everything?”

“It is if it means he lives,” she snaps, and, just like that, the argument is over. Carlos can read the defeat on Owen’s face as he sighs and slumps back in his chair, teeth worrying at his lip as he stares at the closed door to TK’s room.

“As long as he’s safe,” he agrees eventually, and Carlos can only nod.

As long as TK’s safe, he thinks he’d do anything.

TK is suspiciously quiet when they’re allowed back in to see him. He seems apprehensive at the thought of leaving the hospital, and he surprises everyone when he agrees to Gwyn’s plan without any protest. Carlos frowns at him, reaching out to rub his tight shoulders, though Owen beats him to the question.

“Son, are you okay? Did the doctors say something to you?”

TK’s eyes flick to his father, and his weary smile is less-than convincing. “No, I’m good, Dad. It’s… It’s nothing. I guess I just thought all this was over.”

Owen nods and runs his hand over TK’s head. “I know. I know, but you’ll be okay. Things will turn out, you’ll see.”

TK hums noncommittally, and even Carlos wishes he could borrow some of Owen’s apparently unfailing optimism. But he’s not going to make the mistake of being too positive again; they’d all done that once before, and look how it had turned out.

He desperately needs to believe that TK is going to be okay, but he can’t think yet that there won’t be more surprises down the road. Really, Carlos is certain there will be.

He just hopes they won’t be as bad as this one.

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marvinforyou · 2 months

Note

Dear Marvin.

I saw the question you asked Mr. Gaiman. That was smart, asking a public figure you know lots of people trust.

Be more careful with random strangers on the internet like me. Many people do mean well, or at least don't mean any harm! But you just can't be sure. So take what I and any stranger says with a grain of salt.

That said, I'm DMing you because your plea to Neil Gaiman tugged at my heart, and I wish I could help. Being a teen is never easy, and if you have any kind of humanity, it's harder to feel hopeful when current events are... distressing.

I don't know what's making you scared, but I remember feeling hopeless and afraid as a teen during the Cold War.

It turns out, the very year I was most afraid, when a classmate's father came from the Pentagon to tell our social studies class about Mutually Assured Destruction, the nuclear war we kids weren't supposed to worry about even though it could kill us at any second almost DID happen. Twice.

In September 1983, one Lt. Colonel Stanislav Petrov heard the warning sirens at his station in Soviet air defense telling him that US nuclear missiles were launching. One. And then another. And then another. Five intercontinental missiles, incoming.

According to his orders, he should have notified his superiors and prepared a retaliatory nuclear strike. He didn't. Something felt off. Why start armageddon with only five missiles? It was a false alarm.

A few months later, there was an even bigger scare. In November 1983, the US and its NATO allies were holding a huge joint military exercise, Able Archer, practicing how they'd respond to a Soviet attack. Unfortunately the USSR didn't believe it was an exercise and thought they were mustering for WWIII. They prepared accordingly, including loading live nukes onto squadrons of planes for air strikes. Top military and government officials debated whether to strike before the west could launch its attack, or what constituted provocation. The US Air Force's Lt. Gen. Leonard Perroots saw these preparations, including the nuclear-armed squadrons, but opted not to respond. This time he, and probably many others making small but crucial decisions, kept us from falling over the cliff of nuclear annihilation.

Afterwards, when it became clear to both sides the exercise had nearly triggered WWIII, Reagan and his Soviet counterpart Andropov began to hammer out lines of communication to avoid such misunderstandings happening again. The Cold War began to thaw.

I'm telling you this history lesson which I've learned myself only in the past ten years. Back then, it felt hopeless. I was convinced the world was on a one-way course to a nuclear apocalypse, and I wouldn't live to see 30.

A lot of terrible things have happened since then, like AIDS, the Rwandan Genocide, 9/11, and the US invasion of Iraq and Afghanistan. But also, so many good things. The World Wide Web. Seeing the face of Pluto, and learning it has a heart The birth of a lot of great people, including you.

No matter how bad things are, there will always be some people who look at crap choices when the time comes and say, "HELL no, I am not doing that" or"Let's see if we can make this better." There's not always That One Person at the right place and time, and people can't always succeed, but they try often enough that there is always hope.

And there's something else. Teens have gone through some pretty harrowing times in human history. That's not to belittle your fear or depression or any of the challenges you face — we're all different, and hard is hard — but to say that if other ordinary, imperfect, confused, hormonal teens dealing with family drama and stress and periods and mental health issues got through wars and plagues and riots and all the other crazy stuff that's happened on this planet— they made it, so there is hope for any of us.

And you have one tool they didn't in the palm of your hand. You have the power to reach out to other people far away, to ask questions, to seek answers, to make connections, and to affect people... maybe just for a moment with a word or thought, maybe in more lasting ways. You can make a difference. Or you may find people who understand, at least a little.

There is hope in that, too.

Thank you, Marvin, for inspiring me to think about hope.

I hope I haven't scared you with this huge wall of text, or this essay on hope in uncertain times.

Take it if it helps. Or close the window and walk away.

— Ellen

Thank you so so much for this (and the psa about stranger danger) it feels so incredibly scary to exist and live on this floating space rock we call home but to see so many people reach out and offer advice and differing perspectives gives me some sort of hope for at least a short future. I'm scared for a lot of reasons, I see my rights and the rights of my friends being taken away at every turn, I see genocide happening daily, I see myself not knowing who I am or who I want to be. seeing older generations talk about their experiences and learning from them is incredibly helpful and I hope more people can benefit from this ask like I have. Thank you Ellen for sharing your story. Things have always been bad but things could get better and I think that's what matters most. I'm still incredibly terrified for the future but this has given me some small shred of hope.

-Marvin

#hope

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bcofl0ve · 6 months

Note

Full disclosed I don’t know what you are talking about in your post about Elvis estate leaking something to the press about Lisa Marie being upset with the dark aspects of Priscilla movie. And I agree they should not do that. However, where is the anger toward Sophia for not respecting Lisa Marie? That would be some special kind of torture to be his daughter, and feel like someone is trying to portray her dad in a bad light, and she wants to stop that. Sophia seems to have no empathy.

i am going to say this all once and not touch the topic again because i quite frankly don’t think lisa should be brought into this at all. i first want to be clear that i ADORE lisa. i mourned the woman like i actually knew her and barley left bed that whole weekend i was so distraught. it still upsets me if i think about it for too long.

but priscilla’s life with elvis started before she was born. i think it’s a very slippery slope to go down if we say that the negative aspects of *any* celebrity should be caboshed and kept in the dark because their children, understandably, don’t like seeing it. i feel tremendous empathy for lisa and completely understand that her protectiveness came from a place of deep trauma, and i don’t expect her to have acted any differently than she always has. i told a friend last night, man i would not want to be sofia on the other end of that conversation about her not liking the script. i’m sure she read sofia the riot act upside down and sideways.

but i can’t really be angry at sofia here just as i wouldn’t be angry at baz if, hypothetically in another universe, he explored “the dark side” more and she didn’t like it. lisa has the right to dislike negative media about her father, but people making work about a historical figure are entitled to not want to sanitize the darker aspects of said figure in their work about him.

sofia did respect lisa by choosing *not* to elaborate when ‘someone’ being in her ear about wanting to take the ‘dark stuff’ out came up in an interview and she declined when the journalist asked her to name who this person was. i assumed, within the context of being a fan, that it must’ve been either lisa or dean z or hell maybe even jerry schilling the peacemaker. but an estate/epe source running to page six to more or less confirm that it was lisa when sofia at least had the decency to not want to go down that road is absolutely vile. riley said that lisa never know who she could truly trust and the amount of attention seeking snakes who won’t even let her have privacy in the grave deeply breaks my heart. let her fucking rest. sofia is showing more decorum than you lot (epe) are at this rate. it still makes me so angry when i think about the source that ran to tmz after she died and essentially said she’d be alive if not for the 2022 movie. a few weeks ago there was a source blabbering to some tabloid about h&f being in therapy. that circle having snakes goes all the way back to the west brothers writing the “elvis what happened?” book to ‘confront e about his drug issues’. it’s the damn fabric of it all unfortunately.

graceland sells the book elvis and me. they don’t actually think it’s some sort of burn book horrible smearing tell all because if they did they wouldn’t profit off of it. all this is epe, currently more or less run by joel, having petty personal beef with priscilla and lashing out to be vindictive, and using her dead child to do it. i think it speaks volumes that they couldn’t even say lisa was angry at priscilla, because she wasn’t. she at worst, as stated by the source, just thought she was being manipulated. that girl never hated her mom in the way some people want to act like she did.

#gossip time with mollie #priscilla 2023

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niannianyabao · 7 months

Text

In which I liveblog Beyond Re-Animator so you don’t have to.

Spoilers: this movie is an absolute hoot. You can see the exact moment when I begin realizing I’m actually having a good time

Oh it starts with a fakeout jump scare, that’s fun. And the murder of a babysitter. Cool, cool.

I mean, I guess, that’s on canon with Herbert not keeping track of his zombies, but even Bride tried to start with some class.

Please tell me this small, sad child is going to grow up to try to murder Herbs. I feel like that’s where this is going.

HERBERT WHY ARE YOU EVEN THERE. WHY DID THE POLICE NOT PICK UP THAT OBVIOUSLY GLOWING SYRINGE SO THAT THE SMALL CHILD COULD GET IT.

TIME SKIP AHOY (go back movie, I demand to know what Herbert was doing in the suburbs, and was this before or after Dan tried to leave him for the umpteenth time)

Oh my God Herbert you can’t just steal peoples’ pet rats, this is how you start prison riots.

Holy shit is vengeance kid played by BABY EDWARD NORTON?

DOES THAT MEAN THIS MOVIE IS WILL GRAHAM VERSUS HERBERT WEST

Yes this is our DEATH wing of the prison where we bring DEATH down on condemned inmates and they sure do stay DEAD yessir no problems with the DEAD here

Ah, and I see the warden will be playing our Doctor Hill for the evening

To this movie’s credit at least it’s moving at a quick lil pace

Norton are you here to play an angrier Dan. Did they literally just say “okay we still want to do the same thing but we’re scared of having two older dudes in the lead.”

Oh, baby Graham is just dispensing with the backstory aaaaand he is totally on board with Herbert I AM INTRIGUED WITH THIS DEVELOPMENT.

“Yo I saved this reagent for 13 years and got it past the guard with no trouble so, here you go.”

WHY ARE YOU SURPRISED THAT HE’S TRYING TO USE IT ON THE DEAD PATIENT.

Herbert “short term memory loss” West doesn’t bother to watch the zombie for longer than a minute

Well at least he learned, don’t approach the violent dead.

WAITAMINNNUT THIS IS JUST THE MORGUE SCENE AGAIN. I’m on to you movie.

EYYYYYYY is this lady character actually going to get to have plot agency? NEAT

OH HERBERT NO. YOU REALLY ARE TRYING TO USE HIM AS A REPLACEMENT DAN. This does not end well for you. Just ask James Sunderland.

(And HOW COLD IS THAT, move. Not even flashbacks, just one line about Dan giving testimony for the prosecution. COLD).

Wait, so the zombie that killed bby Norton’s sister was from the Miskatonic morgue…which means it would have to be from the original film because it would take some REAL SWEET TALKING to undo Bride….ARE THEY TRYING TO DECANONIZE THE MIDDLE MOVIE. SHAME.

Okay I don’t remember either of you you kids’ names but you’ve got some cute chemistry

Herbs do not use the puppy eyes on the kid it’s not the same

Ah, it’s not a ReAnimator movie without some real awkward fuckin.

“He doesn’t seem human anymore.” Because his precious assistant turned him over and broke his tiny sociopathic heart, baby Will Graham. A future version of you will understand (Imma go down with this ship, internet. Keep spinning in that grave, HP).

Ooh, reporter gal is real good at her job

Aw Herbert, you’ve worked your way up to sciencing the soul! I’m very proud

Okay, ngl, the prison yard scene is the most Herbert thing and I love it.

Aaaaaaand demonic rat. Of course

Whoa. Not-Hill got his ear bit off AND THEN TOOK IT BACK

OH MY GOD THIS POOR GIRL

Ohhhhhhhh Herbs has his “lol ethics” hat on

Okay FUCK YOU MOVIE I LIKED HER. THIS FRIDGING IS BULLSHIT

Also bby Norton’s raw rage is a touch harder to buy than Dan’s was. She was a nice girl, but they’d only had a few dates.

Oh yeah, untie her. Good plan.

Kuds to this gal, she’s giving it her all.

THIS RAT FIGHT SCENE DEMANDS A SCREENSHOT HONESTLY

Wow, this prison allows a fuckton of leniency on its mad scientist inmates

I see Herb has learned his - YOU DID NOT JUST SLAP HERBERT WEST. MURDER HIM, Y’ALL. MURDER THIS DUDE GOOD.

YES GOOD. Cross shot murders

Wow, it seems like opening all the prison cells should be harder than that

DO NOT SCREW THIS UP BBY NORTON THAT DUDE IS A RAPIST AND A SMOL SCIENTIST BEATER. FRY HIM.

Ugh, so hard to get a patient to give good feedback huh West

Aaaaaaand the soul carries the personality of course it does. YOU GAVE THE ASSHOLE DUDE NEW LIFE

Kudos again to this gal though (Elsa Pataky, I see - seems to be known for the Fast and the Furious movies?), she’s getting some fun stuff to play (although as “herself” mostly for the character that means screaming and cowering)

AND NOW WE ARE IN OUTLAST

OH MY GOD DOES THAT MAKE HERBERT DOC TRAEGER. THAT IS A CROSSOVER I NEED.

Vengeful Herbert is my favorite Herbert

Okay I lied, sassy Herbert is my favorite

And ohhhh there’s still half an hour of this left. Hurm.

Hey where did bby Nor- oh, there he is. Still making poor life decisions I see

HERBERT GUARD YOUR BACK. SERIOUSLY. THIS IS THE SAME THING THAT HAPPENED LAST TIME

Ey, seems like the Warden is a famous giallo actor? That’s neat

Awwwww, I was totally wrong about that being baby Ed Norton, too. I am saddened by this fact. No disrespect to Jason Barry, I just mourn all the Will Graham jokes

Oh bro, bro are you gonna reagent inmates just so you can kill em again? Dude. That’s….dude.

Aaaaaand the addict fellow found the reagent. Well, at least he’s having a good time.

That…is a weird place to include boobs, movie. THIS IS WEIRD ALL OVER

OH MY GOD WITH THESE PEOPLE AND THEIR WEIRD EMOTIONAL HANGUPS. Herbert. Honey

“That dude is DEAD THOUGH.”

“weeeeeell…..”

HERBERT GOT TO DO ANOTHER ONE OF HIS AWKWARD SIDE GLANCES I’M SO GLAD

THEY ARE SHOOTING THE ZOMBIE MAN TO TRIUMPHANT HORN MUSIC I CAN’T STOP LAUGHING HELP

Ohhhhh my God they just pulled an I Spit On Your Grave with the blowjob thing HOLY SHIT. I CAN’T EVEN

Bifurcated hanged man. Of couuuuuuuur he’s swinging it like a dead cat good lord

wait how WHERE DID THAT COSTUME CHANGE COME FROM

“This is mine” Herbert ARE YOU FIVE

I sense more intestine exploding coming

Herbert: holds up flashlight because FUCK IF HE’S GONNA MISS AN OPPORTUNITY

OH MY GOD THE MEAT SACK IS STILL - I CAN’T. I’M CRYING. HELP.

The rat is rolling the severed penis I’m kind of running out of words what is even

Herbert is done and he has a cane. There is a CROSS CUTTING BEAT DOWN

And the fight choreography is from the UFC WHAT IS EVEN HAPPENING BACKFLIP CRAB CRAWL?

Goopy electrocution aaaaaand the rat drops the penis in slow mo because OF COURSE

Herbert’s OH SHIT NOT AGAIN face. I TOLD YOU NOT TO MAKE DAN 2.0

Aaaaaand he just takes his ID card and leaves like NOPE NOT DOIN THIS AGAIN

Everyone’s laughing, CLEARLY A HAPPY END

HERBERT STOP DISCARDING REANIMATED BODY PARTS AT RANDOM

And then he wandered off into the night. To find Dan and have a talk (HUSH it’s the only thing that can make this more perfect)

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americanguano · 2 years

Text

“Ain’t it a fine day for a hanging?” was the popular salutation exchanged this cloudless October morning in front of the Custom House, but not by me. When the snuffing of a fellow human’s spark becomes another man’s sport, I’m decidedly agin’ it.

But as The Baltimore Sun’s senior typewriter on the city desk, it’s my job to be here, like it or not.

On the plus side, I’ve chanced into Elsie D.— spitfire on the badminton court, hellbent to be the first woman admitted to Hopkins Med School, and the brickiest member of the Suffrage Movement in town.

“Hello, ducky,” she said with a playful elbow.

“Morning, Elsie. Surprised to see you here.”

“On my way to Druid Lake and thought I’d see what the hubbub was all about.” She lifted a napkin covering her basket. “I made finger sandwiches. Want to come along?”

“I’ll have to take a rain check.” I pointed to three Negroes standing before the crowd on the Custom House steps. “See those men? A year ago, they were sitting in the block house for stealing chickens. Then, thanks to a few choice bribes and looks the other way, they were shackled in the hold of a three-master bound for hellish climes to finish their sentences mining guano by the ton.”

Elsie’s face beams color, even when the photo is sepia. Rosy lips forming a quizzical “O” against a high pink flushing of cheeks, auburn bangs dancing like Surrey fringe. “That’s terrible! Also, I don’t know what guano is.”

“Excrement.”

“Don’t patronize me, Mr. Newspaperman with your afternoonified vocabulary. I can curse with the best of them. It’s eighteen eighty-nine for goodness sakes. If you want to call bull crap, call it. But I’m telling you true, I don’t know what guano is.”

“Elsie, guano is excrement. Mostly referring to bird and bat. The noxious caviar of fertilizer, guaranteed to turn tobacco leaves into greenbacks. We import it by the literal boatload. The Custom House boys call it ‘white gold’ and tax accordingly.”

“And those poor men were forced to mine it?”

I forgo’ed the obvious remarks about America’s track record on coequality. “Turns out if enough seabirds defecate on a spit of land, the real estate turns into Vanderbilt Row. There’s an island west of Haiti called Navassa piled with so much excrement, we declared it part of the United States under some nonsense called the Guano Islands Act.”

“You’re pulling my leg, Samuel.”

“It gets worse. These three, and others pilfered from Maryland prisons, were held in squalid camps and served slop you wouldn’t feed a mongrel.”

“What’s wrong with people, Sam?”

“I wish I knew, Elsie. Life’s a stumper.”

A man selling bags of popcorn squeezed past. I resisted the urge to trip him. These rubes will turn anything into a circus.

“So what happened?” Elsie asked.

“As you can imagine, shoveling bird feces from sun-up to sun-down inungodly heat, knee deep in muck and sucking lungfuls of ammonia-ripe air might shorten a man’s temper. Especially when some overseer brutally starts flogging a worker who can no longer stay on his feet, then ties him to a tree by his wrists to dangle for hours.”

Elsie grabbed my arm and held tight. It would’ve seemed melodramatic had I not known her heart. “No, Sam.”

“There was a riot. Dead Marylanders on both sides. The workers surrounded the island superintendent’s house demanding human conditions. Navassa was in a state of chaos, until a Naval frigate showed up to restore peace. Brought back the uprisers to meet their punishment.”

“So what’s going to happen to these three?”

Before I could answer there was a sharp military drumroll and an official appeared on the steps. His hands trembled slightly as he read from a document.

“You, the Accused, are charged with inciting a riot, destruction of government property and homicide. The court finds you guilty, and sentences you to be hung from the neck until dead.”

There was a cheer and applause from the crowd. Elsie stepped forward, eyes flashing, cupping a hand to her mouth.

“This is CRAP!” she bellowed.

A hundred heads turned in her direction. I took my hands out of my pockets, hoping my new suit would survive.

“All men and women are created equal!” Elsie screamed. “Unalienable rights for all!”

A hob in overalls stuck his nose in and told Elsie to shut her darky-lovin’mouth, so I balled up my best knuckle potato and popped him in his hate-spewing sauce-box.

The suit didn’t make it.

There was an extra edition with the big story. Only I wasn’t the byline, I was the headline.

SUN REPORTER INSTIGATES FRACAS.

They threw me in a Negro cell, the cops muttering something about being with my people. They locked me up without so much as a pat-down, allowing me a well-deserved snort of Pikesville’s finest rye out of the engraved pewter flask that tucks so neatly into my elastic-sided boot.

As me and some other guys alternated nips, I heard whispered news circulating around the cell from ear to ear, inspiring knee slaps and wide grins with each telling. Eventually it made its way to mine.

Seems my fisticuffs set up a nice distraction for some axe-wielding members of the United Brotherhood of Liberty, who saw it as their cue to chop the gallows to the ground. News of the trouble travelled to Washington and President Harrison, after reading the official Naval report on the Navassa riot, sent a telegram commuting the accused’s sentences.

None of it was pretty, but it was a step in the right direction. One of those rare moments when I have hope that humanity might actually be capable of humanity.

I drained the last of the flask. If I ever get out of here, I must remember to take Elsie up on one of those finger sandwiches.

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hacawijo · 2 years

Text

An Elriel Playlist 🌸🦇

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1qiqOu3XEsOOW2hDY4Qoq5?si=RdTI5vnPTZmExkrMAASZXw

ELAIN

Holy - Jamila Woods (VIBES)

I Decided, Part 1 - Solange Knowles (THEME OF SONG)

(You Make Me Feel Like) a Natural Woman - Aretha Franklin (THEME OF SONG)

AZRIEL

Everything I Am - Kanye West (VIBES)

The Underdog - Spoon (VIBES)

Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want - The Smiths (VIBES)

EARLY DAYS (ACOMAF - Dinner - clutching the fork etc)

Something Pretty - Patrick Park (THEME OF SONG)

I’ve Just Seen a Face - The Beatles (THEME OF SONG)

Where the Sky Hangs - Passion Pit (VIBES)

AZRIEL AND ELAIN IN THE GARDEN (siphons are beautiful)

Strange Magic - Electric Light Orchestra (https://genius.com/Electric-light-orchestra-strange-magic-lyrics)

Breathe - Seinabo Sey (https://genius.com/Seinabo-sey-breathe-lyrics)

Here Comes the Sun - The Beatles (VIBES)

AZRIEL SEES HER MORE THAN ANYONE

Back to You - Twin Forks (https://genius.com/Twin-forks-back-to-you-lyrics)

Lost in the Light - Bahamas (https://genius.com/Bahamas-lost-in-the-light-lyrics)

Albatross - Lowland Hum (https://genius.com/Lowland-hum-albatross-lyrics)

GETTING HER BACK

Home - Phillip Phillips (THEME OF SONG)

Hold Me As I Land - Seinabo Sey (https://genius.com/Seinabo-sey-hold-me-as-i-land-lyrics)

Satellite - Guster (https://genius.com/Guster-satellite-lyrics)

TRUTHTELLER

Formidable - The Big Moon (https://genius.com/The-big-moon-formidable-lyrics)

I Will Follow You Into the Dark - Death Cab for Cutie (VIBES)

Army - Ellie Goulding (VIBES)

LIGHT/DARK; SOFT/HARD

Crazy Love - Van Morrison (https://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/vanmorrison/crazylove.html)

Ain’t No Sunshine - Bill Withers (https://genius.com/Bill-withers-aint-no-sunshine-lyrics)

THE START OF SOMETHING (ACOFAS - making people wait for dinner etc.)

I’ve Got a Crush on You - Ella Fitzgerald (THEME OF SONG)

Tongue Tied - Grouplove (VIBES)

Twine - Lowland Hum (VIBES)

ACOFAS SOLSTICE NIGHT

Brighter than Sunshine - Aqualung (https://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/aqualung/brighterthansunshine.html)

May I Have this Dance - Francis and the Lights (VIBES)

Bubble Tea - dark cat (THEME OF SONG)

Wonderful - Mullally (THEME OF SONG)

Can’t Help Falling in Love - Ingrid Michaelson (THEME OF SONG)

FRIENDS TO LOVERS STYLE FALLING FOR EACH OTHER OVER TIME AS THEY BOTH GRIEVE AND GROW AND RECOVER

Everywhere - Fleetwood Mac (https://genius.com/Fleetwood-mac-everywhere-lyrics)

Wandering Child - Wild Rivers (https://genius.com/Wild-rivers-wandering-child-lyrics)

You Send Me - Sam Cooke (THEME OF SONG)

Can’t Fight this Feeling - REO Speedwagon (THEME OF SONG)

Stolen - Dashboard Confessional (https://genius.com/Dashboard-confessional-stolen-lyrics)

LITERAL AGONY FOR BOTH OF THEM PT. I (Heat, and forbidden love, carrying a torch)

Can You Tell - Ra Ra Riot (https://genius.com/Ra-ra-riot-can-you-tell-lyrics)

Trouble Sleeping - The Perishers (https://songmeanings.com/songs/view/3530822107858517639/)

Bloom - The Paper Kites (https://genius.com/The-paper-kites-bloom-lyrics)

THE ALMOST KISS (BONUS POV)

Momentary Thing - Something Happens (https://genius.com/Something-happens-momentary-thing-lyrics)

Dice - Finley Quaye, William Orbit (https://genius.com/Finley-quaye-dice-lyrics)

My Lover - Birdtalker (https://genius.com/Birdtalker-my-lover-lyrics)

Higher - Rihanna (VIBES)

Sweet Thing - Van Morrison (https://genius.com/Van-morrison-sweet-thing-lyrics)

LITERAL AGONY FOR BOTH OF THEM PT. II

Mr. Brightside.- The Killers (VIBES)

Reflections - MisterWives (https://genius.com/Misterwives-reflections-lyrics)

Us - Regina Spektor (VIBES)

FORBIDDEN LOVE

Slip Away - Perfume Genius (https://genius.com/Perfume-genius-slip-away-lyrics)

Don’t Dream it’s Over - The Head and the Heart -[Crowded House cover](https://genius.com/Crowded-house-dont-dream-its-over-lyrics)

Easily - Bruno Major (THEME OF SONG)

Our Own House - MisterWives (https://genius.com/Misterwives-our-own-house-lyrics)

Nothing Can Change this Love - (THEME OF SONG)

Come Away with Me - Norah Jones (https://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/norahjones/comeawaywithme.html)

Somewhere Only We Know - Keane (VIBES)

SONGS THAT SEEM LIKE ELRIEL LOVE (general vibes! Don’t read the lyrics too hard)

Lemons - Woodlock

Honeybees - The Head and the Heart

Love Like That - Stew

I’ll Have to Say I Love You - Jim Croce

The Way I Am - Ingrid Michaelson

Still - Seinabo Sey

#elriel #elain archeron #Azriel #pro elriel #playlist #book playlist #ship playlist #sjm #acotar #acowar #ACOMAF #ACOFAS #acosf

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swan-of-sunrise · 3 years

Text

The Right Choice (Tales From The SSR)

Summary: After squaring away his new position within the West Coast SSR, Jack finally asks (Y/N) out on a date.

Pairing: Jack Thompson X Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings/Disclaimers: None

A/N: Here’s a look at what happened almost immediately after the end of Specs and the Flyboy, and there’s a lot of fluff here! Thank you for reading, I hope you all enjoy!

The Right Choice December 1947 West Coast Strategic Scientific Reserve, Los Angeles (Previous One-Shot)

“Just when I thought we’d finally gotten rid of you for good, you had to go and fall in love with my top codebreaker,” Daniel said with feigned exasperation, the corners of his mouth curling upwards in an amused grin as he hung his crutch up onto his hook and sat down behind his desk. “Just my luck, huh?”

“Mm-hmm.” Jack absentmindedly hummed at the chief’s words while he stared through the office window at (Y/N); the codebreaker was finishing up a report on her typewriter, her reading glasses perched on the end of her nose as she concentrated on her work. Her vivid red lipstick had long-since faded into a pretty shade of pink and while he admired the focused expression on her beautiful face, he felt himself begin to smile at the memory of their passion-filled kisses. He still couldn’t quite wrap his head around the fact that his massive leap of faith had actually paid off and that (Y/N) loved him just as much as he loved her; I’ve gotta be the luckiest son of a bitch on the face of the planet, he thought to himself, his heart leaping in his chest when the codebreaker’s eyes met his and returning her shy smile with one of his own.

“…Jack? Hello, Earth to Jack!” Jack quickly turned his attention to Peggy, who leaned against the edge of Daniel’s desk and let out a low whistle. “I think you’ve got a little bit of drool on your chin, Lieutenant…”

With his face beginning to warm in embarrassment, Jack shot back, “Oh, you’re one to talk, Carter, you know how many months I had to put up with you makin’ eyes at Danny Boy here back in New York?” Peggy scoffed while Daniel’s ears turned pink, and Jack flashed them both a triumphant smirk before leaning back in his chair. “So, how’s this job interview gonna work? Did you two want my resumé or my list of references first?”

Daniel chuckled and shook his head. “That’s really not necessary, Thompson, you’ve got a job at this branch as long as I’m running things; we just wanted to hear the whole story about how you turned down the CIA position.”

“Yes, from what we’ve heard Senator Cooper was quite insistent that you take up the position,” Peggy added, her nose wrinkling as she mentioned the senator’s name. “I can’t say that I’m very fond of the man, especially after hearing about what he said to (Y/N) during his visit.”

Jack nodded in agreement. “You and me both, Peg, he’s a real horse’s ass. There’s not really much to hear, though-”

“C’mon, Thompson, it’s the least you can do! You know how hard it was keeping all this a secret from (Y/N)? A very sad, very lonely (Y/N)? Rose and Zhang nearly spilled the beans at least three times this week, and even I almost blabbed earlier at the hospital.” Daniel pointed out as Peggy nodded in agreement, and Jack let out a defeated sigh.

“Well, by the time my first plane landed in Colorado I knew that I wanted to come right back here but I figured that there were things I needed to settle before I could; I had to thoroughly vet my replacement – and before either of you wise-asses ask, no, Chief Harding’s not a Russian spy – and I had to get out of my apartment’s lease and arrange to have my things shipped out here. After I did all that I paid Senator Cooper a visit at his office downtown, returned his letter of recommendation and told him I wasn’t interested in being his political tool before storming out. Doesn’t make for a very interesting story, but that’s pretty much everything that happened.” He caught Daniel and Peggy exchanging a skeptical look and frowned in confusion. “What?”

“You remember Angie, my old roommate from New York? Well, she’s friends with one of the secretaries who works downtown at the senator’s office and the other day, she telephoned to tell me all about the verbal altercation her friend witnessed between Senator Cooper and a rather irate federal agent,” Peggy explained with a knowing gleam in her brown eyes, continuing on as Jack began self-consciously rubbing at the back of his neck. “According to the secretary, the agent read Cooper the riot act for not giving proper credit to the team responsible for closing a major case over at the West Coast SSR; he was adamant that the case never would’ve been closed if not for the entire group of people he worked alongside.”

“Nah, it must’ve been some other federal agent, Peggy, ‘cause Thompson here’s never been very big on sharing credit…or being nice…”

Rolling his eyes as Daniel and Peggy exchanged amused grins, Jack ignored the heat rising in his face and replied, “You two’re hilarious, you know, you could give Crosby and Hope a run for their money. I told Cooper off ‘cause it was the right thing to do…and I thought it might make up for taking all the credit when we closed that Leviathan case back in New York.” He shifted awkwardly in his seat and shrugged. “What can I say? I was a real ass back then, but I’ve decided to turn over a new leaf.” His eyes flicked back over to (Y/N) and he couldn’t help but smile, knowing that the codebreaker had been a large part of what inspired him to become a better man. “A fresh start here in L.A. with (Y/N)’s all I’m lookin’ for.”

Daniel’s smile was full of warmth when Jack turned back to him and he leaned across the desk to offer him his hand. “Well, Agent Thompson, let me be the first to welcome you aboard the West Coast SSR.” Jack grinned and shook the chief’s outstretched hand. “And since there’s no way I’m gonna get either of you to focus on any work now, you and your new partner can go ahead and take the rest of the afternoon off.”

“Yes, you two deserve a fun evening out!” The happy expression on Peggy’s face was soon replaced with mischief as she arched a playful brow. “But not too much fun; it’s a work night, after all.”

Jack rolled his eyes as he got to his feet and jokingly retorted, “Yes, Ma.”

Bidding Daniel and Peggy goodbye, Jack left the office and paused for a moment to nervously fix his tie before making his way over to (Y/N)’s desk; the codebreaker, who was still typing away on her typewriter, looked up from her work and smiled as he leaned against the edge of the desk. “I suppose I’ll have to get used to calling you ‘Agent’ now instead of ‘Chief,’ won’t I?”

“C’mon, Specs, we both know that you’re just gonna keep calling me ‘Flyboy’ instead.” He chuckled when she gave him a noncommittal shrug. “But yeah, you’re lookin’ at the West Coast SSR’s newest field agent. And my interview went so well that Chief Sousa even partnered me with the branch’s top codebreaker, can you believe that?”

(Y/N) smiled in amusement at his reference to their contentious first meeting but played along, arching a curious brow and replying, “I take it that you’re fond of codebreakers.”

“Absolutely crazy about ‘em.”

“Even the ones who wear reading glasses?”

“They look cute with specs.”

“And the ones who don’t make very good spies?”

“Hey, nobody’s perfect.”

“How about the ones who’re messy and can’t keep anything clean?”

Jack winced in mock distaste. “Now that’s a deal-breaker.”

Laughing, (Y/N) took off her reading glasses and shook her head in mild exasperation. “You’re a jerk, Jack Thompson.”

“And you’re beautiful, (Y/N) (Y/L/N).” His heart warmed at the flustered expression on her face as she began anxiously organizing her cluttered desk. “I’ve got even more good news; Sousa’s given the both of us the rest of the day off.”

She tucked several files into one of her desk drawers and closed it with a small chuckle. “Time off for good behavior?”

“Something like that.” Suddenly overcome with nervousness, Jack crossed his arms over his chest and cleared his throat before tentatively continuing. “Since we’ve both got a free afternoon, I was wondering if you’d…well, if you’d like to…to do something? With me?”

“I’d love to! What did you have in mind?”’

“Well, The Olympic’s still showing Miracle on 34th Street; I’ve heard it’s a pretty good flick and I know you’re a big Maureen O’Hara fan,” He reasoned, his calm exterior hiding the overwhelming sense of relief that washed over him when she accepted. “So, how ‘bout a movie and afterwards, milkshakes and fries at Lou’s?”

(Y/N)’s smile widened as she nodded, and the both of them went to fetch their hats and coats; while she was preoccupied with pinning her hat onto her hair, Jack quickly threw his fedora and coat on before grabbing her coat and holding it up for her to slip into, feeling very gentlemanly as she did so. The two of them left the bullpen and walked down the hallways of the West Coast SSR together, both of them occasionally glancing over at the other and smiling whenever they were caught staring. It wasn’t until Jack’s hand tentatively reached over and held hers that the unspoken tension finally came to a head; in an instant, he was being pulled into the nearest supply closet and his back hit the closed door as their lips met in a passionate kiss. Soft hands moved to cup his face and hold him against her while his own arms slipped into her unfastened coat and wrapped snugly around her waist, tugging her close as he lost himself in the sweetness of her lips.

The codebreaker was the first to break away, a little out of breath as she reached up and flicked on the light bulb hanging from the ceiling; her lips were swollen and her (Y/E/C) eyes were gleaming with happiness, a soft smile on her face as one of Jack’s hands reached up to caress her cheek. “Well, baby, that confirms it.”

“Confirms what, sweetheart?”

Jack grinned. “That I definitely made the right choice.” His fingers held her chin as he ducked back down, their lips meeting in a softer and more meaningful kiss; when they finally pulled themselves away from one another, they straightened their appearances before ducking back out of the supply closet and continuing down the halls, their smiles reaching their eyes as their joined hands swung between them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Lol I love seeing these two together, they deserve to be happy after everything they’ve gone through! Thank you all so much for reading and commenting! I’ve created a Spotify playlist inspired by this series, and I’ll be updating it every time I upload a new one-shot. Enjoy!

Spotify Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0iKzLZlEK1rTaSIiW5zRlk?si=97af3c9ce3ff4b65

“Tales From The SSR” Masterlist

“Specs and the Flyboy” Masterlist

Tagging: @nnon-it-up @fluffymadamina @remmyswritings @ourstarsailor @coffeeandcrimeshows @darkusangelus @josis-teacup @marvel-jackt-loki-buck @yeetyeetchickenmeat @sameoldbaby @theserenityspace @seeing-but-not-observing @supervoldejaygent @momc95 @brooke0297 @kinda-c0nfused @outoftheregular @mads-weasley @mostclevermiss

#tales from the ssr #jack thompson x reader #peggy carter x daniel sousa #agent carter #jack thompson #peggy carter #daniel sousa #rose roberts #marvel cinematic universe #strategic scientific reserve #specs and the flyboy

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unpopularwiththepopulace · 3 years

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Michael Riedel vs Bernadette Peters – the Broadway Battle of 2003 and beyond

My previous piece gives a fairly comprehensive look at Bernadette and Gypsy through the ages; though there is at least one aspect of the 2003 revival that warrants further discussion:

Namely, Michael Riedel.

Today’s essay question then: “Riedel – gossip columnist extraordinaire, the “Butcher of Broadway”, spited male vindictive over not getting a lunch date with Bernadette Peters, or puppet-like mouthpiece of theatre’s shadowed elite? Discuss.”

It’s matter retrievable in print, or even kept alive in apocryphal memory throughout the theatre community to this day that Riedel was responsible for a campaign of unrelenting and caustic defamation against Bernadette as Rose in Gypsy around the 2003 season.

While “tabloids may [have been] sniping and the Internet chat rooms chirping”, when looking back at the minutiae, none were more vocal, prolific or influential in colouring early judgment than the “chief vulture [of] Mr. Riedel, who had written a string of vitriolic columns in which he said from the start that Ms. Peters was miscast”.

He continued to find other complaints and regularly attack her in print over an extended period of time.

Why? We’ll get there. There are a few theories to suggest. Firstly, how and what.

Primary to establish is that it perhaps would be foolish to expect anything else of Riedel.

Also an author and radio and TV show host, Riedel is best known as the “vituperative and compulsively readable” theatre columnist at The New York Post.

He’s a man who thrives on controversy, decrying: “Gossip is life!”

The man who says, “I’m a wimp when it comes to physical violence, but give me a keyboard and I’ll kill ya.”

“Inflicting pain, for him, is a jokey thing. ‘Michael has this cruel streak and a lack of empathy,’ says Susan Haskins, his close friend and co-host.”

And inflicting pain is what he did with Bernadette, in a saga that has become one of the most talked about and enduring moments of his career.

From the beginning, then.

Riedel started work at The Post in 1998.

His first words on Bernadette? “Oddly miscast in the Ethel Merman role,” in August of that year on Annie Get Your Gun. It was a sentiment he would carry across to his second mention six months later (“a seemingly odd choice to play the robust Annie Oakley”), and also across to the heart of his vitriolic coverage on her next Merman role in Gypsy.

Negative coverage on Bernadette in Gypsy started in August 2002 when Riedel discussed the search for trying to find a new American producer for the show. It had initially been reported in late 2000 that a Gypsy revival with Bernadette was planned for London, before it was to transfer to Broadway. To begin with, Arthur Laurents was “eager to do Gypsy in London because it hadn't been seen in the West End since 1973”, and he “wanted to repeat [the] dreamlike triumph” he said Angela Lansbury’s production had been. But economic matters prevented this original plan, leaving the team looking for new producers in the US. Riedel suggested that Fran and Barry Wiessler step up as, “after all, they managed to sell the hell out of "Annie Get Your Gun," in which Peters…was also woefully miscast.”

He also quipped: “Industry joke: "Bernadette Peters in 'Gypsy'? Isn't she a little old to be playing Baby June?”, calling her “cutesy Peters” and again a “kewpie doll”.

Bernadette here seen side by side with the actual Baby June of the 2003 production – Kate Reinders.

Other publications to this point had discussed her “unusual” casting. Which was fairly self-evident. In contrast to being a surprising revelation that Bernadette Peters was not, in fact, Ethel Merman, this had been the intention from the start. Librettist Arthur “Laurents – whose idea it was to hire her – [said] going against type is exactly the point,” and Sam Mendes, as director, qualified “the tradition of battle axes in that role has been explored”.

It was Riedel who was the first to shift the focus from the obvious point that she was ‘differently cast’, to instead attach the negative prefix and intone that she was actually ‘MIS’ cast. According to him then, she was unsuitable, and would be unable to “carry the show, dramatically or vocally”. All before she had so much as sung a note or donned a stitch of her costume.

So no, it wasn’t then “the perception, widely held within the theater industry,” as he presented it, “that Peters is woefully miscast as Mama Rose”.

It was Riedel’s perception. And he took it, and ran with it, along with whatever else he could throw into the mix to drag both her and the show down for the next two years.

As to another indication of how one single columnist can influence opinion and warp wider perception, just look to Riedel’s assessment of the show’s first preview. It is typically known as Riedel’s forte to “[break] with Broadway convention, [where] he attends the first night of previews, and reports on the problems…before the critics have their say”. This gives him “clout” by way of mining “terrain that goes relatively uncovered elsewhere”, and it means subsequent journals are frequently looking to him from whom to take their lead – and quotes.

At Gypsy’s opening preview then, he reported visions of “Arthur Laurents [charging] up the aisle…on fire”, loudly and vocally expressing his dissatisfaction with the show as he then “read Fox [a producer] the riot act”. Despite the fact that this was “not true, according to Laurents,” the damage was already done, with the sentiment of trouble and tension being subsequently reprinted and distributed out to the public across many a regional paper.

News travels fast, bad news travels faster.

And news can be created at an ample rate, when in possession of one’s own regular periodical column. This recurring domain allowed plentiful opportunity for attack on Bernadette and Gypsy, and Riedel “began devoting nearly every column to the subject,” which amounted to weekly or even more frequent references.

As the show progressed beyond its first preview, Riedel brought in the next aspects of his smear-campaign – assailing Bernadette for missing performances through illness and accusing Ben Brantley, who reviewed the show positively in The New York Times, of unfair favouritism and “hyperbolic spin”.

The issue is not that Bernadette was not in fact ill or missing performances. She was. She had a diagnosis at first of “a cold and vocal strain”, that then progressed more seriously to a “respiratory infection” the following week, and was “told by her doctors that she needs to rest”. So rest she did.

The issue is the way in which Riedel depicted the situation and her absences via hyperbole and “insinuating she was shirking” responsibility. He went further than continual, repeated mentions and cruel article titles like “wilted Rose”, or “sick Rose losing bloom”, or “beloved but - ahem-cough-cough-ahem - vocally challenged and miscast star”. He went as far as the sensationalist and degrading action of putting “Peters' face on the side of a milk carton, the kind of advertisement typically used to recover lost children,” and asking readers to look out for “bee-stung lips, [a] high-pitched voice, [and a] kewpie doll figure”, who “may be clutching a box of tissues and a love letter from Ben Brantley”.

It was quantified in May of 2003 after the show had officially opened, that “out of the 39 performances "Gypsy" has played so far, [Bernadette] has missed six – an absence rate of 15 percent.”

As an interesting comparison, it was reported in The Times in February 2002 that “‘The Producers' stars Nathan Lane and Matthew Broderick have performed together only eight times in last 43 performances due to scheduling problems and health concerns,” – an absence rate of 81%.

Did Riedel have anything nearly as ardent to say about the main male stars of the previous season’s hit missing such a rate of performances? Of course not.

Riedel arguably has a disproportionate rate for criticising female divas.

One need only heed his recommendations that certain women check into his illuminatingly named “Rosie's Rest Home for Broadway Divas.” Divos need not apply.

Not that he was unaware of this.

In 2004, Riedel would jovially lay out that “Liz Smith and I have developed a nice tag-team act: I bash fragile Broadway leading ladies who miss performances, and she rides to their rescue.”

Donna Murphy was the recipient of what he that year dubbed his “BERNADETTE PETERS ATTENDANCE AWARD”, when she began missing performances in “Wonderful Town”, due to “severe back and neck injuries and a series of colds and sinus infections”.

This speaks to his remarkably cavalier and joyful attitude with which he tears down shows and performers. “The more Mr. Riedel's work upsets people, the more he enjoys it.”

He knows he yields influence – it was recognised he had “eclipsed Ben Brantley as the single most discussed element in marketing meetings for Broadway shows” – and he delights in his capacity to lead shows to premature demises through his poison-tipped quill yielding.

When it was reported Gypsy would be closing earlier than had been planned, he made mention of “hop[ping] around on [its] grave” and debonairly applauding himself, “I suppose I can take some credit for bringing it down”.

His premonition from the previous year’s Tony’s ceremony was both ominous and prescient, when he predicted the show’s failure to win any awards “could spell trouble at the box office”. He was right. It did. The 8.5 million dollar revival closed months before anticipated and failed to return a profit.

Multiple factors can be attributed to Gypsy’s poor success at the Tony’s, but it’s clear to say Riedel’s continual bashing leading up to the fated night throughout the voting period certainly didn’t help matters.

His suggestions to do with Bernadette’s performances were not helpful either.

After alleging Laurents as the director of the 1991 revival “practically beat a performance out of” Tyne Daly when she was struggling with the role, he proffers that to improve Bernadette’s success, “it may be time for [Laurents] to take up the switch and thrash one out of Peters”.

Great.

It was irresponsible and unrelenting commentary that did not go unnoticed.

His “ruthless heckling of beloved Broadway star Ms. Peters” was deemed in print “his most egregious stunt so far”.

Vividly, in person, Riedel was accosted at a party one night by Floria Lasky, the venerable showbiz lawyer, who “grab[bed] Riedel’s tie and jerk[ed] it, nooselike, scolding, ‘It was unfair, what you did to Bernadette’”.

Moreover, the wide-reaching influential hold Riedel occupied over the environment surrounding Gypsy was tangible in the fact his words spread beyond just average readers, and even unusually “started seeping into the reviews of New York's top critics”. Riedel himself, as the “chief vulture”, was indeed what Ben Brantley was referring to in his own New York Times review by stating how the production was “shadowed by vultures predicting disaster”.

Even more substantially, the “whole Peters-Riedel-Brantley episode” became its own enduring cultural reference – being converted into its very own “satiric cabaret piece, ‘Bernadette and the Butcher of Broadway’”. All three parties were featured, with Riedel characterised as the butcher, and it played Off-Broadway later in 2003 “to positive notices”.

But penitent for his sins and begging for absolution Riedel was not. “Riedel saw nothing but a great story and a great time,” and for many years after, he would continue to hark back to the matter in self-referential (almost reverential) and flippant ways.

In 2008 as Patti LuPone won her Tony for her turn as Rose in the subsequent revival, Riedel couldn’t help but jibe, “Not to rip open an old wound, but I'd love to know if Bernadette Peters was watching”. (He neglects also to mention that “Mendes’s Gypsy was seen by 100,000 more people than saw Laurents’s and grossed $6 million more”.)

More jibes are to be found in 2012 as he reported on the auction after Arthur Laurents’ funeral, or even as recently in 2019, as he asked, “Remember the outcry that greeted Sam Mendes’ Brechtian “Gypsy,” with Bernadette Peters, in 2003?”

As with in 2004 where he points to the “pack of jackals who have been snarling” about Bernadette’s failures, this brings up the canny knack Riedel has of offloading his views to bigger and detached third party sources – thus absolving himself of personal centrality, and thus culpability.

If there was an outcry, HE was its loudest contributor. If there were snarling jackals, HE was their leader.

Maybe Riedel’s third person detached approach to referencing matters was intended to be a humorous stylistic quirk for those in the know. Or maybe it was his way of expressing some inner turmoil over the event.

In some rare display of morality and emotional authenticity, Riedel would at one point admit “I find it kind of sad and pathetic that the high point of my life supposedly has been about beating up on Bernadette Peters”.

Fortunately for him then, a degree of absolution was eventually achieved in 2018, where Riedel visited Bernadette at her opening night in Hello Dolly in 2018, with the intention of ending their “15-year feud”. He “got down on one knee at Sardi’s and extended his hand,” with Bernadette reportedly yelling “Take a picture!” while he held his deferential and obsequious position on the floor.

So if eventually this “feud” has some kind of circular resolution and Riedel was glad it was over, why on earth did it begin in the first place?

One notion is that it was simply another day on the job. Riedel is a man who sees Broadway as “a game for rich people”. Positioned as an “an industry that brought in $720.9 million in the 2002-2003 season”, it is “not a fragile business”, he remarked. As such, he “[could not] fathom the point of donning kid gloves” in covering it, and reasoned the business as a whole was robust enough to weather a few hard knocks. “Thus, Riedel can coolly view Bernadette Peters as fair game, as opposed to, say, a national treasure”.

More to the point, he was a man in search of words. During the season in question, Riedel was “one of just three New York newspaper columnists covering the stage” – a “throwback to a bygone era when…Broadway gossipmeisters…such as Walter Winchell and Dorothy Kilgallen ruled”. Now at the time, as the “last of a great tabloid tradition”, Riedel presided over not just one but two columns a week at The Post. As a result, he was in need of content. “One of the reasons I've become more opinionated is I just have more space to fill,” he admitted. Robert Simonson hypothesises in his book ‘On Broadway Men, Still Wear Hats’ that Riedel may have consequently picked “the thrashing of Bernadette” as his main target simply because “it was a slow news cycle”. Options for ‘titillating’ and durable content were scarce elsewhere that season.

And after all, if Riedel would later cite Bernadette in an article concerning the Top 10 Powerhouses of Broadway in 2004, saying even despite a few knocks or bad shows, “she’ll bounce back” – surely there was no real damage done.

If her career wouldn’t be toppled by his continual public defamation and haranguing, what was the harm?

Feelings? Who cares about feelings or Bernadette’s extremely complex and personal history with the show stretching back to when she was a teenager.

It was just part of the territory, there was nothing personal in it.

Or was there?

Maybe there was something personal in Riedel’s campaign after all.

He makes a curious comment while discussing ‘A Raisin in the Sun’ in 2004. The then incoming star of the show, rapper P. Diddy, had invited Riedel to dinner, and he makes judgement that this was “a smart p.r. move”. Then he ponders, “you do have to wonder: If Bernadette Peters had broken bread with me this time last year, would her chorus boys have to be out there now working the TKTS line to keep "Gypsy" afloat?”

Might he be going as far to suggest that if Bernadette had indulged him in a meal, her show might not have suffered so, by way of him being more inclined to cover it with greater lenience?

It may seem that way, at least in considering how Riedel reviewed P. Diddy’s performance thus after their dinner: “Riedel pronounced himself impressed. ‘He could have forgotten his lines or had to be carried offstage. He didn’t do anything terrible, he didn’t do anything astonishing.’”

Seemingly all the rapper had to do was remember some words and remain physically onstage, and he sails through scot-free. That’s a rather different outcome, one could say, to being absolutely eviscerated for what became a Tony nominated effort at one of the appreciably hardest and most demanding musical theatre roles in existence.

Though perhaps it’s hard to tell if that was really his insinuation from just one isolated comment pertaining to lunch.

This argument might be fine, if it WAS the only isolated comment pertaining to wanting Bernadette to have lunch with him. But it isn’t. Riedel continues to make a further two references over protracted periods of time to the fact Bernadette hasn’t dined with him.

One begins to get the sense of him feeling desiring of or somewhat entitled to such a private lunch with the lady he’s verbally decimated for years, and a sense of bitter rejection that he hasn’t been granted one.

“If Tonya Pinkins doesn't win the Tony Award this year, I'll buy Bernadette Peters lunch,” he simpered, and later, “I invite Bernadette to be my guest for lunch at a restaurant of her choosing. She can reach me at The Post anytime she's hungry”.

The embittered columnist in this light takes on now the marred tinge of a small boy in the playground who doesn’t get to hold the hand of the girl he wants in front of his friends, so spends the next three years pushing her over in the sandpit in revenge.

Moreover, the last statement makes undeniable comment on Bernadette’s troubled relationship with food, body image and public eating.

So now not only so far has he insulted and mocked her physical appearance and played into all the usual trite shots calling her a “kewpie doll”; suggested Arthur Laurents violently hit her in order to elicit a better performance; continually publicly harassed her regarding a show that strikes close to the nerve with deep personal and psychological resonances due to her mother and childhood; but now he’s going for the low-blows of ridiculing her over her eating habits.

Flawless behaviour.

Maybe it’s far-fetched to suggest a man would have such a fragile ego to run a multi-year public defamation campaign after so little as not getting his hypothesised fantasy of a personal lunch date. But then again, this was the man who “left Johns Hopkins University after his first year because of a broken heart.” (“I was in love with her; she wasn't in love with me,” he said.)

And also the man described as “an insomniac who pops the occasional Ambien,” living in a “small one-bedroom” that is “single-guy sloppy”, who has “been living alone since a four-year romance ended in 1996”.

The man whose own best friend called “cruel” and with a “lack of empathy”.

The man whose own sister answered that “well, yes,” he’s always been mean; and after being picked on as a kid for “being the small guy and the intellectual”, he grew dependent on using “his verbal ability to beat someone” and put himself in positions of defensive impenetrability.

See, writing Riedel-esque, vindictive and provocative conjecture is no especially challenging or cerebral task.

Riedel may well see his approach to ‘journalism’ or reporting as “all fun and games”.

But I for one am not laughing.

One final aspect to address when considering Riedel’s reasoning for the depth of his coverage on Bernadette demands attention of how he gets his information. His own personal opinions and motivations aside, crucially he depends on insider providers for insider details. Perhaps somewhat alarmingly then, “leading Broadway producers themselves are among his sources”.

“Half of Broadway hates him. The other half leaks to him”, John Heilpern titled his 2012 Vanity Fair profile on Riedel.

As such, in frequently taking his lead from “theater folk, usually with an ax to grind”, Riedel acts as the mouthpiece to bring secretive backstage reports out front. High-up, influential characters are thus able to funnel their agendas into public view, while keeping their identities hidden.

Notably, it was raised in the above article that Riedel’s “merciless running story” regarding Bernadette in Gypsy “was fed by none other than its renowned librettist, Arthur Laurents—or, more precisely, by Laurents's lover”.

Contrary to the smiley picture below between members of the show’s creative team and it’s beloved star, it was no secret that Laurents did not like Mendes’ 2003 revival. Laurents told Riedel that “Sam did a terrible disservice to Bernadette and the play, and I wanted a Gypsy seen in New York that was good… You have to have musical theater in your bones, and Sam doesn't”. In fact, Laurents admitted the only reason his 2009 book ‘Mainly on Directing’ came into existence was because of how much he had to criticise about the show – it grew out of the extensive set of notes he gave Mendes.

Additionally, it was no secret that Laurents’ lover, Tom Hatcher, demonstrated both a desire and capacity to influence Arthur’s productions. As well as being the driving force for the 2009 Spanish-speaking reworking of West Side Story, Hatcher had intense investment in Gypsy specifically. Patti LuPone writes in her memoir, “From his deathbed, Tom had told Arthur, ‘You have to do Gypsy, and you have to do it with Patti’. It was one of his dying wishes”. Laurents himself, in corroboration of this, explained Tom’s reasoning – “he didn't want the Sam Mendes production to be New York's last memory of Gypsy”.

The allegation in Heilpern’s profile might be hard to prove from an outsider perspective. But given that neither were happy with Mendes’ production and both actively took steps to ensuring it would be superseded in memory, it is not completely implausible.

Overarchingly, as much as Riedel’s writing may benefit FROM insider sources, it is said he does not write in benefit OF them. For instance, although friends with Scott Rudin in 2004, an animated (nay threatening) warning from Mr Rudin asking Riedel to “back off” from “slamming” his show, Caroline or Change, seemingly “had no impact”.

That’s not to cite total impartiality or exemption from personal connections and higher up influences colouring his reports of shows. Theatre publicist John Barlow would describe that sometimes “if you ask Michael to kill [one of his pieces], he will, if it’s someone with whom he does business”.

But it would be remiss not to mention that his influences and sources stretch beyond just the big wigs. Amongst his other informants too are the more lowly, overlooked folk like “the stagehands, the ushers, chorus kids, house managers, and press agents… the guys who build sets in the Bronx”. Basically, for anyone who’ll talk, Riedel will listen.

“Michael Riedel doesn't work for the producers or the publicists; he works for the reader,” one publicist said. “Sometimes we're glad of that, sometimes we're not-but at the end of the day, that's the reality.”

Sometimes he’s nice, sometimes he’s not – but the world goes round.

Through all that’s been explored, it should be stated how painful and injurious it must be for individual performers or shows to fall upon the unmitigated, maiming force of being on the wrong side of Riedel’s favour. The way he approached coverage on Bernadette is deplorable from an emotional and personal standpoint. Some would argue that it was too far and crossed a line and was most definitely unfair. Others would say it was justified. It’s hard not to sound petulant as the former, or heartless as the latter.

While his actions may indeed be abrasively wounding in isolated (often plentiful) cases, it’s unreasonable to say Riedel’s intentions would be to cripple the Broadway industry as a whole. There are those who purport that Riedel in fact “keeps Broadway alive with his controversies”. His words may not always be ‘nice’ but it’s difficult to argue they're not engaging.

Many are quick to criticize or react impassionedly to him and his columns; but few are quick to stop reading them. And Riedel “knows that the most important thing is being well read”.

Hence it is understandable why Riedel is appraised as “the columnist Broadway loves to hate”. Through his enthralling and stimulating bag of linguistic and dramatic tricks, Riedel knows how to keep the readers coming back. “He’s lively, and he makes the theater seem like an interesting place,” one producer did reason.

“There are times when no one's going to care about Broadway if you don't have a gossip angle that focuses on the backstage drama,” opined George Rush, the Daily News gossip columnist who was once Riedel's boss.

Perhaps it is logically and principally then, if somewhat cynically, a matter of believing “it's just business” and knowing how to “play the game”.

As Riedel himself would rationalise, “It’s all an act. You gotta have a gimmick, as they say in Gypsy.”

It may not be pleasant, but in a world increasingly dependent on sensationalistic and clickbait-driven engagement, it’s probably not going to change any time soon.

Well then, if he can live with the toll of the position of moral tumult his column puts him in, so be it.

That he described his mind as being “constantly on the next deadline”, saying “I always think about the column”, and likening writing it to “standing under a windmill”, where “you dodge one blade, but there's always another one coming right behind it”, may be some indication that he can't. At least not wholly easily.

I’ll leave that to him to figure out. Off the record.

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an-actual-angel · 3 years

Text

Pairing: Connor (RK800) x Reader, Collin (RK800-60) x Reader, Richard (RK900) x Reader

Summary: The year was 2082. 44 Years after the android revolution. Things have turned south for humanity. Androids now rule the world, leaving humans to be considered as mere animals. While some Androids still have a general disdain for humanity some have taken to the idea of keeping them as “family pets.” You, born in captivity, specifically bred to be the perfect pet happen to get adopted by the RK brothers.

(If anyone wants to be added to the tag list, either dm or reply to this post <3)

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Chapter 36 - Running away is easy, Its the leaving that's hard

It had almost been two weeks since you last saw Connor and Collin. It had been tough, to say the least, you missed them like crazy. You would constantly check your phone for messages that would never come. Perhaps it didn’t take them long at all to forget about you. You couldn’t let yourself get too upset about it though, this was your decision. Maybe it was easier for them to keep their distance. It would probably work out better this way in the end.

Danny was right when he said that life in the settlement wasn't going to be glamorous, it was hard work, something you weren’t used to, coming from living cushy in a penthouse. You mostly helped out with farming the land and tending to the chickens, feeding them, cleaning out their coop, collecting eggs, etc. You also got stuck with the job of babysitting some kids from time to time. It was good to keep busy though, to keep your mind away from androids.

When you had free time, you spent it mostly with Emily, catching up, attempting to look after her, although insisted she didn’t need the fuss.

You had been staying in Emily’s shack, it was just you her and her cat Pepper, but you made a good little family. You wondered whatever happened to the father of Emily’s child, she didn’t want to talk about him too much, whoever he was. She’d just say he was away.

You didn’t want to push her but your overbearing curiosity would not sit at peace. Some other ladies around the settlement had told you he had been taken by androids.

What Emily did tell you about the child’s father was that his name was James and he was the one that saved her from the adoption centre. Well, he’d been one of the humans in the midst of the one of the riots in the city who also happened to help some of the humans escape the centre.

“Took down two androids right in front of my eyes, that how I knew he was the one.” She laughed.

“He took down two androids? On his own?” You spluttered out, not believing her.

“Yeah, with one of these,” Emily smirked handing you over a baton.

Taking it in your hand you examine it, slightly confused until you see a button near the bottom. “Is this one of the electric ones the cops use?”

“Yep, can take out an android with a few quick buzzes.” She points her chin at you and smiles. “That’s my man, always got the good weapons.”

“I’m quite surprised you settled on a man honestly.” You smirked, “Last time I saw you, you were giving puppy dog eyes to Olivia.” You cock your head to the side, raising your eyebrows.

“Yeah, I did have a thing for her, until she got adopted and you know. Kinda couldn’t see her anymore.”

“Liv got adopted?”

“Yeah.” Emily shrugged plainly and looked away.

“I’m sorry Emily.” You reach out your hand to touch hers.

“Why are you sorry?” She shakes her head, pulling her hand away from yours to rest on her baby bump.

“It just must have been lonely for you, without me and Liv.” You bite at the broken skin on your bottom lip.

“Yeah it was a bit, but then I met James.” She smiled a little but it faded fast. “He’ll come back you know.” She said quickly, more telling it as a way to convince herself, rather than you.

You nod back to her, not wanting to hurt your friend. “Of course Emily.”

Her hand wipes at her eye a little. “Best be getting to bed.” She stands to her feet. “You should as well” she smiles placing her hand on your shoulder.

“That’s probably a good idea.” You nod. “Big day tomorrow.”

___

You woke to the sun shining through the thin material of your makeshift curtain, with a rub of your eyes and a quick stretch you were up to start your day. Making breakfast for yourself and Emily was first on the list and then feeding Emily’s cat Pepper was second. The next few hours would be spent outside on the farm tending to some of the plants and vegetables, you would do this until lunchtime when you would have a quick bite to eat and then on to the ‘town’ meeting, a quick impromptu one that had been called by Danny.

They had received word from another settlement, one not too far from them that they would aid them in their next city raid.

“City raid?” You whispered to Emily, not understanding what he had meant.

“Yeah, we’d been planning this one for a while.” She whispers back quickly. “It’s how we get more weapons, people, stuff like that.”

“Does Connor know you guys have been doing this?” You ask.

“No. but he doesn’t need to know.” She shrugs. “We send our doughboys out with masks anyway.”

“Doughboys?” You asked even more confused than before.

“Yeah, our fighters.” She snaps as she furrows her brows. “Don’t you listen?” realising how quick she was with you she apologises “Sorry, I forgot that you’re still new around here. We call our ‘recruits’” she says with parenthesis. “Doughboys, and they get shit done. I was one before, well before y’know.” She rubs her bump.

“Never pegged you as a fighter.”

“Well, I guess there’s a lot you don’t know about me then.” She laughs.

“Ladies,” Danny calls Emily and your attention back to him.

“This time it’s going to be the big one.” Danny looks around at everyone’s faces. “There are people from other settlements in the city as we speak. It’s almost our time to join them. Three days. Three more days!” His weathered hand hits the table he was standing in front of. “And we're getting our boys back.”

You notice Emily nod to Danny, her lip wobbles as she turns to you.

“James.” she half-smiles half whimpers as her hand grabs yours.

You give her hand a tight squeeze and whisper a silent prayer that they will indeed find him alive and well.

As the day goes on most of the camp seems in a mixture of excitement and fear about the upcoming raid.

The ‘Doughboys’ as Emily called them, coordinating their plan of attack, parents ensuring their children that everything will work out, farmers, bakers, and medics in a tizzy to prepare the needed supplies.

As the evening settles in you begin to worry for Emily, what if they can’t find James? what if he’s not even alive?

Poor Emily has been through so much. She doesn’t deserve any more grief.

A part of you wants to tell her to not get her hopes up but saying that would be cruel. You just nod along and try to keep her comfortable. After dinner Emily ends up falling asleep on the recliner chair she had been sitting on. As you wrap a blanket over her shoulders you realise that you're almost out of firewood and the fire its self is beginning to dwindle down.

Grabbing one of Emily’s cloaks from a hanger, you drape it over your shoulders before heading out on your quest to seek out more wood.

Wooden logs were usually kept in an area just west of the settlement, it was a little walk through the trees but not too far. You usually preferred going out when it was brighter. The light from your phone only made the place look creepier. The quietness of the area didn’t help either, if it wasn’t for the noises made by nearby animals the place would be downright eerie. At least you could still see the warm glow of the settlement in the distance through the trees.

You knelt down on dry dirt to pick up some of the logs from the bottom of the pile to put in the wicker basket that you had brought with you. After you make your selection you stand back to your feet and dust off the dirt of your clothes. Just as you are about to reach down for your basket again you are abruptly stopped by a large hand being placed over your mouth as well as an arm wrapping around your front holding both your arms in place so that you cannot struggle from the grasp. You try to wrestle your way out of the grasp in a fit of fear but a familiar voice sends you into shock.

“Please calm down.”

Is that?

Your body is frozen.

“I only grabbed you like this in case you screamed. Sorry, it was a bit abrupt, I know.”

Your heart begins to thump harder in your chest but this time not from fear.

“When I let go, please don’t scream.” The voice pleads.

You manage to nod your head, still, in your state of shock, the hands and arm loosen from you and you try to steady yourself on your feet before turning around.

You take a deep breath as you slowly move on your feet towards the person whose grip you had just been in.

“Richard.” You exhale deeply.

His tongue wets his lip before he attempts to speak, however, you cut him off.

“What are you doing here!? If anyone sees you!” You shout in a whisper at him.

“Look, I know, I know.” He lifts his hands in defence. “I was just lucky that you happened to be out here so I didn't have to go in there.” He gestures his head towards the settlement.

“Don’t dare step foot in there.” Your eyes widen as if he’s gone mad.

“I won’t, I won’t… If you come back.”

“What? No.” You shake your head.

“No?”

“I can’t Richard. I belong here.”

“Y/N, Look at this place. It’s disgusting.” He shakes his head as he scans his eyes across the poorly put together ‘town’. “Surviving on scraps, like an animal. You have a nice home, come back.” He reaches out to hold your hands.

You lift your brows to look up at him, your mouth becoming straight as you shake your head and slowly pull your hands away.

“I can’t, I just can’t.” You pick your basket off the ground and turn to walk away from the android.

“I’ll give you anything!” He shouts out. You turn your head to him.

“I’ll do anything.” He moves towards you again. “Just say the word. Please.”

He reaches his hand towards yours once more, his other caressing your cheek.

“I’ll even help with the rebellion.” He whispers.

“The rebellion?” You look up at him, your face plagued with even more confusion.

“Whatever it is the humans are planning. I can help, I can be of use just, please come back.” He begs his forehead now resting against yours.

“Wha- I don't understand. Why?” You whisper to him, closing your eyes as you press your forehead back against his.

“Because I love you.”

________________________________________________________________

Chapter 37 - Alrighty Aphrodite

You had entered the settlement on your own again. Going back to your shack, you had to explain the situation to Emily.

“If he can get James back.” She stopped for a minute to steady her breath. “Then I’m on board.”

After a quick hug and farewell, you had a bag packed and you were off.

“I’ll be back.” You said once more to Emily before leaving.

“I know.” She nods.

Richard had been waiting for you just outside the gateway, you had told him to wait there so he wouldn’t spook the residents.

“I can carry that” Richard insist, taking your bag from your hands, before you could say anything he had it thrown over his shoulder. You bite at your lips not really knowing what to say but walking through the forested area with him in silence.

“It’s not too far of a walk to the car,” He said. “I did try to park as close as I could.”

You just nod and continue to walk. After another while of insufferable silence, you finally speak up to him.

“So, is it true?” You turn towards the Android. “Do you really love me?”

His eyes fall to the ground for a moment as he continues on. “Yes.” He fell quiet again for a moment before continuing on. “I think I first began to realise when Collin got in that accident. You stayed with him.” He let out an artificial sigh. “I started to think about if something had happened to you and-” He shrugged.

“It took me a long time to come to grips with my feelings as you could probably tell. I never experience this type of emotion before.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” You tilt your head attempting to make eye contact, his gaze still avoiding yours as he trudged forward.

“I was an idiot. A scared fool.”

“You are an idiot.” You stop for a minute causing Richard to stop as well, he moves closer to you, to see if you are alright. Taking him by surprise you lean up to press a kiss to his cheek. Richard hums for a second moving away slowly, he looks into your eyes before he tries to kiss your lips.

You however hold your hand out and say “I can't do that, I have boyfriends.” Before walking on.

“Yeah, ones that left you behind.” Richard sighs moving again to walk beside you.

“They did that to protect me.”

“Connor in his twisted reasoning. He probably did it more to protect himself. He is selfish. You have no idea what your leaving has done to Collin.” Richard grumbles.

“So you’re guilt-tripping me now?” You roll your eyes.

“I’m just saying.” Richard grunts, re-adjusting your bag against his back. “Why’d you not bring your suitcase?”

“This is just temporary.” You shrug.

“I see.”

“How’s Connor doing?” You change the subject before Richard tries to convince you to stay forever.

“He’s stressed about all of the attacks that have been happening in the city and he’s stressed because Collins current mental stability is not too fun. I think it would cheer him up to see you.”

“Yeah and he might murder you for bringing me.” You quip back.

“True. I guess we’ll just have to see.” He retorts as you notice Richard’s car parked in the distance. He did park quite close. Something Connor would also be pissed about.

“How did you find me anyway?” You ask the question that’s been on your mind since you first saw him.

“I’m afraid the truth of the matter might unsettle you a little.” He explains as his car beeps at his arrival.

“Go on.” You encourage him. “You can’t stop now.”

“I am one of the most advanced androids in existence.” He explains whilst throwing your bag in the back of his car. He then opens the passenger side door for you to get in. When you do he leans down to your ear to whisper, “I’m everywhere.” And with that, he closes the door.

You sit for a moment in contemplation as he gets into his side of the car to sit down. As he puts his seat belt on you turn to him with confusion on your face. “Did you hack my phone?”

Richard rolls his eyes as he starts up the car. “I was able to tap into the journey history of Connor's vehicle. I knew he was behind all of this.” He begins to explain as his own car sets out.

“When I got to the location of the factory I was able to scan for signs of nearby technology. Your settlement stood out like a beacon. Didn’t take too long for me to tap into some phones that were being used yes, and then I saw you.”

“Can other androids do all that?”

“Not a lot can. And definitely not to the extent that I can. As I say, I’m everywhere. Any piece of technology, I can tap into if I desire so.” Richard explains proudly.

“So, do you ever use it to spy on people?”

“Only if necessary.”

“You ever watch people naked?” You smirk a little.

Richard’s brows furrow as he blushes slightly. “No, I would not do that.”

You burst out in laughter at his defensiveness. “I’m just teasing.”

Richard adjusts his shirt collar in discomfort. “Indeed.” He replies dryly.

You smile and rest your head against the back of the seat.

“You know you can lie in the back if you want, it’s a long drive and you could do with some sleep.”

You swivel your seat around to look at the back seat, assessing it. Swapping your seat with your bag that had been put in the back and lay down on the cool leather.

“You don’t have any blankets do you?” You ask Richard as you attempt to find some level of comfort on the cold seat.

“No, sorry. I can turn the heat up if you like?”

“hmmpf.” You think for a minute. “Isn’t this car self-driving?”

“Yes,” Richard replies, not really sure at what you’re getting at.

“Why don’t you just put in the destination and then come back here and lie with me?”

His LED begins flashing red. “I think Connor would definitely try and kill me if we sleep with each other again.” Richard stammers.

“I wasn’t suggesting we have sex, oh my god!” You smack your hand over your mouth to not laugh.

Richard's face began to turn in cringe, “oh I just thought-”

“I meant so we could cuddle.” You explain, smirk still present on your face.

“Do you think Collin and Connor would be okay with that?”

“I think they’d be angrier if you let me get sick from the cold.” You tease.

“That is a fair point.” Richard raises a brow as he puts in the location for the car to self-drive. When he has it tapped in, he too swivels around in his seat to move to the back with you.

Richard is a little awkward at first as he clumsily shifted to lay down in the backseat with you, eventually pulling you into his chest. The thrum of his thirium pump makes you grin in triumph as he settles his head to rest on top of yours. Richard then changes his body temperature to a comfortable setting so that he could be your personal radiator for the next few hours.

Was this weird? Absolutely. Was this wrong? Maybe. Was this comfortable? YES.

But you allowed yourself the brief comfort of being in Richard's arms, even if it was just for this one night. Maybe you felt like you deserved it, you were entitled to some amount of comfort after all the crap you’ve been through.

A part of you was angry and Collin and Connor for not reaching out, even to send a measly little text message. Your more rational mind told you to drop it, something might have come up, you didn’t know the full story, and maybe it was too hard for them. Although that didn’t stop it from stinging your ego any less.

You managed to drift off to sleep rather quickly, that was one of the benefits from all the hard work you had been up to at the settlement, sleep found you a whole lot quicker. Richard had stayed beside you for the majority of the journey as well, cherishing the feeling of having you in his arms once again. Deciding to himself to never be without this feeling anymore. His face snuck its way between your neck and collar bone to take in your scent and to delicately place his lips against your skin just for a sweet moment of indulgence. He had to wiggle his hips away from yours so you would not awake with his growing hardness against your ass.

Feeling a little guilty for his body’s response he decided to give you some space, sliding his form out from the side, slowly as not to wake you. He couldn’t help but smiling down at how comfortable you seemed as he made his way back to the driver’s seat, the seat still swivelled around to face the back.

Richard did eventually wake you up as the car pulled into the private garage area for the RK’s apartment building.

“We're here, little dove.” He coos to you, brushing his knuckles down the length of your arm.

Your eyes squinted open, feeling blinded by the violently bright fluorescent lights of the garage you had found yourself in. Looking down you had noticed one of Richard's coats had been draped over you. You rubbed your eyes briefly before reaching down to it to hand it over to Richard.

“You put it on.” He insisted, pushing it back towards you. “At least until we get inside. It gets cold in the garage, at least that’s what my sensors tell me.”

You didn’t object you just nodded in silence, still in that groggy half sleep-like state. Throwing the oversized coat onto yourself you open the car door and hop out, Richard grabbing your bag soon follows behind, hand on your shoulder as he directs you towards the elevator.

It felt strange being back in the city, even stranger to see the apartment building again.

When you entered back into your old home, it had felt different somehow, a little bit eerie even. Suppose it didn’t help that most of the lights were off.

“Collin and Connor are both out at the moment.” Richard finally spoke up again, leading you by the shoulder into the dark living room, with a flash of his LED the lights were on.

You squinted again at the harshness of them before Richard had dimmed them to a more pleasing brightness level.

“Why don’t you go and get a nice hot bath and I can put your stuff away.” He awkwardly half-smiles over at you.

“Are you sure?” You ask skittishly.

“Of course.” He tilts his head in confusion, it’s not like having YOU here was any bother to him, he was bloody delighted. “After that, I can go get my brothers?”

“Right now?” You stuttered out the question, fidgeting with the large sleeves of Richard’s coat that you had forgotten to take off.

“Do you want some time before?” Richard asked, head tilting once more, exposing his pale neck to you.

You shook your head and looked back down at your hands. “I don’t know, maybe. It’s not that I don’t want to see them. This is all just a little overwhelming.”

“I understand.” Richard nods. “Just one thing at a time.”

You look up at him once more, catching his cool eyes in a stare, you nod. “A hot bath sounds good.”

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Notes: I lowkey called Emily's love interest James after Bucky Barnes (cause for some reason I imaging him looking like Bucky lol)

Sorry I'd been gone for a while, just been really busy with work and general life stuff.

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#fic: pretty baby #My writing #connor x you #connor x reader #rk900 x reader #rk800 x reader #rk800-60 x reader #detroit become human #dbh fanfic #dbh au #rk900 #rk800 #rk800-60

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