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sunlightandsuffering · 4 months

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Late as fuck Mikasa birthday drabble that I don't love lol ! I always miss my enemies AU, they're honestly hilarious. Mikasa breaking his arm and wanting to sign his cast will never not be iconic to me ! ALSO MIGHT MAKE THEM FIANCE'S, I DID HERE, MIGHT AS WELL RIGHT! “Nice gun.” It sounds like a bad pickup line, a shitty attempt to get into her pants, and well, it totally is, but the guy lingering around her Uncle’s bar also isn’t wrong. “Thanks,” she comments casually, trailing a finger over the condensation on her glass, “It was a gift.”

At this, the guy snorts, an eyebrow raised almost into his hairline, “Someone got you a baby pink Glock as a gift?”

Mikasa shrugs innocently, tucking the very poorly concealed weapon further into the waistband of her jeans, she’d just come back from intimidating a rival gang member, okay? She’d needed it, she doesn’t just carry her gun around with her like a monster, it’s not even loaded, it's solely for intimidating purposes. Plus, she looks very pretty waving it around while Connie and Reiner stand menacingly behind her, where’s the fun in being a mob princess if she can’t play a little? But the story of how she got her pink Glock is one that she looks upon perhaps a little too fondly, even more so when she catches Eren’s eye over her would-be suitor’s head, a little smirk on his face that he can’t hide, having heard their whole discussion.

She doesn’t know if she should be embarrassed that he’s heard, or say fuck it and drag him to the back room all over again like she did when she was gifted the gun in the first place.

2 Years Ago

“So you’re not even going to wish me a happy birthday?” Mikasa asks somewhat petulantly, trying not to let the whine creep into her voice, not to show just how perturbed she is that he’s the only one so far who hasn’t wished her a happy birthday. For fuck’s sake, Connie, his number two had sent her a giant stuffed teddy bear, and she can barely get a happy birthday from him, her supposed fiancé? Eren barks out a disbelieving laugh, “Mikasa you broke my arm last month, I just got out of the cast, which, by the way, still fucking hurts–” “You had it coming to you.” “I had to learn how to shoot with my left hand!”

Mikasa scoffs, “You love being ambidextrous, I haven’t heard you shut up about it since.” “Because it’s fucking cool! But that’s beside the point, we’re in a gang Mikasa, I get shot at semi-regularly, and you didn’t even apologize!” At this, Mikasa shoots him a glare, “I did so.” “When?” Eren snaps and Mikasa studiously looks away, “I helped you out a few times.”

Eren balks at her, his mouth hanging open, and she thinks rather smugly that for once in his life he actually looks a little stupid, rather than the unfairly good-looking visage she’s used to.

“You demanded to sign my cast and threatened to break my other arm,” Eren tells her glibly and Mikasa frowns, her brow furrowing up in a way her mother would scold her for, yelling about forehead wrinkles and botox. “That’s not what I’m talking about,” Mikasa snarks back, before lowering her voice to a whisper, “I’m talking about after.”

Eren arches a perfectly shaped eyebrow, a wicked smirk crossing his lips, those eyes gleaming in delight as he recalls that particular night, “Oh that.”

“Yes,” Mikasa hisses, “That.”

That had been Mikasa jerking Eren off in the backroom, out of the goodness of her heart of course, because he might be ambidextrous now, but he hadn’t been then, and well, who was she to refuse him? That would just be cruel, and really why use his non-dominant arm when both of hers were readily available… and her mouth too, that had also been very available to him.

“Well that,” Eren smiles fondly, his eyes glazing over a bit as he thinks about it, a small affectionate smile gracing his lips, “That was just good business Miki, payback for breaking my arm in the first place.” She smacks his now healed broken arm, vibrating with fury, “That was me helping you out, you asshole!” Eren scoffs, his smile morphing into a pout, “It wasn’t I had to practically beg–” “As you should!” Mikasa huffs and Eren growls in irritation at being interrupted, “Mikasa!”

“You’re not even going to wish me a happy birthday?” She finishes sadly, a hint of genuine sadness creeping into her tone, she does have feelings, and he is supposed to be her fiancé. "After all i've done for you." Eren groans, “Oh my god.” Mikasa sniffles, just a little, not allowing the tears to fall, her head turned away, she’d always thought they had this very charming back and forth, that when they finally wed it wouldn’t be so bad, that maybe, just maybe they could fall in love and all the sexual chemistry they had would be put to good use.

Her lower lip quivers just a little and Eren sighs deeply beside her, an arm hooking around her neck and dragging her towards him, “You’re such a fucking brat.” “I am not!” She protests, but she is silenced with a rough kiss to her lips, and as usual, he tastes like good whisky and a hint of mint, familiar. She melts into him, her hands finding the soft strands of hair gathered at the nape of his neck, digging into the silky whisps. Eren grunts as she tries to climb into his lap, because fuck it, this can be her birthday present. But to her dismay, Eren keeps her firmly planted in her spot next to him, his arm weighing heavy around her shoulders and his other hand buried firmly between her thighs, teasing her whilst at the same time keeping her in place.

She pulls back questioningly, her lips swollen, silver eyes catching on soft reverent green ones, “Eren what are you–” “Happy Birthday,” he mumbles and before Mikasa can say another word he’s pulling a gun from the waist band of his jeans and she’s shocked to see it’s not his own, it’s definitely not his own. It’s bright pink, almost candy coloured, like a barbie and Mikasa gasps as he places it in her lap. It’s slightly bejewelled around the handle, and if it was anyone else, it would be the gaudiest thing she’s ever received, she’d fucking hate it. But Eren knows her far too well, probably better than he should if she’s being honest, and Mikasa squeals as she snatches it from his grasp. It’s impractical and ridiculous, and the silliest things she’s ever received, but she absolutely loves it. What says mob princess more than a pink fucking gun?

“I love it,” she tells him seriously and Eren lets out an audible exhale, “Good, because that shit was embarrassing to ask about, do you know Jean almost laughed me out of the arms room?” Mikasa laughs in delight, checking him with her shoulder lightly before she cuddles in, enamoured with her gift, fingers trailing excitedly over the Swarovski crystals embedded in the handle, just before the grip so as not to be uncomfortable to hold. “If you lose it you’re not getting another one,” Eren tells her firmly and she leans up in a rush to press a kiss to his cheek in thanks. “Thanks,” she tells him softly, her other hand slipping down to lace their fingers together, she’s not often this affectionate, this loving with her rival turned husband-to-be.

But really, it’s Eren, he deserves a reward for this.

“Happy birthday,” he winks and Mikasa laughs, setting the gun on the table, “You were totally just afraid to give it to me weren’t you, that’s why you haven’t talked to me all day?” Eren scowls, “Why do you have to ruin everything, I was not!”

“You totally were, I bet you’ve been agonizing over when to give it to me all day.” “I wasn’t,” He insists, and Mikasa cackles deviously, “You so were.”

“Whatever, we’re even now, Ackerman.” She laughs in delight, pressing another kiss to his cheek, they are so not even, they are never even and that’s just how she likes it. “Don’t make me break your other arm, Yeager.” “At least it won’t be my dick this time, Ackerman.” She presses her lips together to hide her smile, “Now I know you’re not upset about that.” “Still pisses me off that I’m not the first one you broke,” Eren mumbles grumpily, and she buries her face in his shoulder because she can’t wipe the fucking smile off her face, he’d been so damn pouty about that.

“I can break it again,” she breathes huskily against his neck, and he hums contemplatively.

“I’d like to see you try.”

“Back room, ten minutes.”

#enemies to enemies #enemies au #E to E AU #lys's drabbles #this is lys's crackhead hours

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dearbraus · 2 years

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—Are You Watching?

Starring; Sasha Braus.

Warnings; 18+ only minors dni + afab!reader + thigh humping + semi public sex.

Word count; 0.3k

Note: repost for my best girl :)

❝When it comes to you, Sasha just can’t help herself.❞

“No one's gonna notice!” Sasha hisses, her nails digging deeply into your hips, “They’re all watching the movie and I can feel how wet you are baby!”

Clamping your hand over her mouth you shake your head. Tossing a glance over your shoulder you feel a bubble of guilt pop up in your chest, the growing ache between your legs spurring you to roll your hips against Sasha’s sturdy thigh. You shouldn’t have let Sasha’s sweet words get to you but she always knew the best ways to chip away at your resolve until you were kneeling at her feet, begging for reprieve. Always at the most inopportune time; she loved to see you desperate, loved the thrill of getting caught almost too much.

Gripping the back of the couch you whine, “Let’s get outta here!” you say, biting your lip, “Then we can play, don’t you wanna play with me, honey?”

Your clit throbs as the seam of your jeans hit just the right spot. The loud sounds emanating from the television cover up the blatant moan you let out, your hips speeding up as you rock back and forth. Jean lets out a cough, his gaze flickering over to the corner you and your girlfriend were tucked away in, a bored look covering his visage. His eyes linger for a short moment before focusing back on the movie, whispering something to Connie who laughs and elbows Armin in the process.

They were all in their own little world.

Sasha takes the needy whine you let out as encouragement to attach her lips to your neck, suckling on the tender skin.

“We can’t!”

She laughs at you, her grip tightening as you grind against her, “Stop anytime you want,” she hums, her teeth grazing your skin with her teeth, “I’m not forcing you.”

And you knew she was right.

She may have been the one to suggest it but you were the one to rub your sloppy cunt all over her thigh. You were the one who had to muffle your moans and keep your eyes locked behind you, creating a crick in your neck. Sasha was merely a bystander should the two of you get caught. But it felt too good to stop now.

#sasha braus smut #sasha braus x reader #sasha blouse smut #sasha blouse x reader #aot smut #snk smut #aot x reader #snk x reader #cafe employee

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rom-e-o · 7 months

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The Sun and Her Star (Constance/Ebenezer)

@quill-pen I got to thinking more about Starry's birth, and oof.

Trigger warning for birth-related descriptions and semi-graphic imagery. Nothing tooo intense though.

A nurse stood in the doorway to the master bedroom, hands splayed outward defensively to fill the doorframe as best she could. “Sir, please, it’s not customary for you to—”

“To hell with your bloody customs!” the man beyond the threshold said, his voice deep yet string with panic. “My wife is giving birth! I hear her screaming!"

"I understand you're upset, but Mr. Scrooge-"

"'Upset'? You think I'm ONLY upset?"

Constance felt searing pain down her midsection. Pain surged like fire behind her eyes, and whenever she opened them to try and find her husband, blinding whiteness made her whimper. The pain she felt was worse than when both of her femurs had snapped in half after being pushed down the stairs years before.

The pain was blinding. Every passing second felt like a thousand-year war to stay awake. Then, worst of all, there was the smell of blood. Blood and bile. All hers.

“E-Ebenezer…” she whispered as another incredible flood of pressure tore through her. She tried to extend a hand in the direction of his voice.

She heard frantic footsteps. Seconds later, a familiar hand gripped hers like a vice.

“Connie, my sunflower…” Scrooge whispered. His voice was feather-soft but frayed at the edges with a terror she shared. He placed a kiss atop her knuckles, pressing his lips hard into her skin. “I’m right here.”

She turned her head in the direction of the voice. This time, when she opened her eyes, she saw his visage over her.

As expected, he looked about as swell as she did. He was still handsome – she’d always find him handsome, but he looked haggard. The labor had gone on for hours, and neither of them had slept. The birth had started shortly after midnight, and now, the rays of dawn were starting to warm the room and fill it with the telltale, rosy glow of early springtime.

The once serene bedroom was now filled with nurses and medical professionals bustling about. Magda, who would have normally been preparing breakfast, now sprinted back and forth bringing the midwife with all the hot water and towels she could possibly need.

“Constance, you need to push again,” one nurse said, her face buried beneath a bloodied swatch of cloth that was draped over the woman’s knees. “Nothing’s happening.”

Push again? She could barely stay awake.

“I…I…” Constance stammered, the ability to make words leaving her. “Y-Yes, I’ll push.”

Bracing herself, she rose to her elbows. Filling her lungs with air, she ground her teeth and tightened her muscles with all her might.

Seconds later, the midwife chirped up merrily. “Good! The baby is crowning! We’re head-first – good.”

Despite the excellent news, Ebenezer remained focused on his wife and trying to comfort her through the very obvious pain she felt.

He dabbed her forehead with a cold cloth, knowing she hated the feeling of being sweaty. She gave him an appreciative smile that, while beautiful, he knew was forced. Her strength was waning, and she was trying to be strong.

The only panacea was Ebenezer at her side, squeezing her hand and stroking her sweat-drenched hair.

As she gazed into his slate-blue eyes, she felt tears well up in hers. With no voice left to speak, she hoped he could read her mind.

I don’t want to leave you yet. I want to meet our baby. I’m not ready. I love you. Can you hear me? I love you. I love you. I love you I love you love you love you so much.

All other sights and sounds faded into white noise around her. The pain she felt deafened her and made her vision cloudy. It felt like the world was drifting away from her, or perhaps that she was drifting away from the world.

“Connie, can you hear me?” he asked, his voice breaking as she gently shook her. When she didn’t respond, fear gripped his chest. “Connie? Constance? Constance!”

“Sir,” a nurse piped up, her voice measured despite the situation, “Keep your voice down—”

“Help me get her upright!” Ebenezer pleaded. He jumped up and slid his arms down Constance’s back, lifting her torso off the mattress so it could rest on his chest. Gravity would help, right? Why the hell did women give birth laying down, anyway?

When he felt how cold her skin was, he let out an inadvertent sob.

No. No, this couldn’t be happening. Not again. Not to her.

“Sir, she—”

“She’s unconscious!” he cried. Tears poured down his face now. The man was white as a ghost, his eyes red and hands trembling. He looked like an embodiment of fear itself. “Please, please help me!”

Her body moved on its own. Unable to voice her confusion, she could only focus on her breathing as she felt her body lift from the mattress and slip into a kneeling position on the bed. He felt weightless and lead-like all at the same time.

Almost immediately, a wave of relief washed over her. Ragged breaths escaped her, and her choked sobs of pain turned choppy and frantic.

The baby was coming. It was coming, and she didn’t have to push as hard.

Letting gravity aid her, the surges of agony shifted into a sensation more akin to cramps. Strong aches radiated from her abdomen and all the way to her thighs, sides and buttocks. There was pressure on her bladder, and a stretch in her vagina that rendered her speechless with pain.

Watery voices around her pleaded for her to stay awake. Not to push, not to fight, just to stay awake. To stay alive.

Then, minutes later … euphoria.

A loud gasp escaped her as the pressure evaporated, her knees went slack and … she heard the sound of crying. A baby crying.

Two strong, familiar arms embraced her and kept her from toppling over and off the bed. Constance felt she familiar shape of Ebenezer’s chest, his aftershave and soft pajamas sensations she pinpointed as unequivocally his despite being on the brink of sleep.

“It’s a girl!” one bystander cried merrily.

“Red hair, just like her mama.”

“Hurry, bring me a clamp!”

Magda let out a sob of relief, and Prudence whimpered from beyond the door.

While joy radiated around the room, Constance felt weak. Empty. Achy.

Thankfully, the person holding her sensed her discomfort, and immediately laid her down. She lay supine, breathing steadily, her cheeks streaking with silver trails from her tears. She felt dizzy and too warm all at once, and all the noise in the room made her nauseous.

Then, she felt him.

His hands cupped her ears, helping to shield out some noise, as she felt his forehead press to hers. The brush of his muttonchops was undeniable, and she felt his nose press into her cheek.

“Constance. You did it. My brilliant, beautiful girl…thank you.”

He repeated her name like a mantra, arms holding her close despite the blood and bodily fluids that soaked her and the bedspread.

“Are you with me?” he asked, his voice soft and afraid. “I’m sorry I moved you. I-I…are you hurting? What can I do?”

The redheaded woman stared up at him in a daze. Then, her dry lips formed a smile. She kissed his cheek gently, which took more strength than any feat of strength she’d ever had to accomplish before.

“T-Thank you…” she croaked. "I-I'm here."

At hearing her speak, it was as if a spell of terror was broken. With a cry of elation, all the emotion he felt poured forth. He squeezed her tightly and kissed every inch of her face.

The onslaught of affection went on for half a minute until he realized she probably needed space. He stepped away briefly to dry his eyes and collect himself. Magda went to the man’s side, rubbing his back and whispering sweet words to him.

While they talked, another nurse began to help her change out of her soiled bedclothes and into a fresh nightgown. The gown was long and white; a little austere for her tastes, but so comfortable that she actually moaned as she was tucked in. Ebenezer laughed from the other side of the room, still shaking with relief.

Once she was cleaned up, the nurse came around the bed carrying a bundle in her arms. When she saw tiny hands stretch out from the bundle, the skin as pink and wrinkly as the belly of a newborn kitten, all the pain from before was forgotten. She found the strength to lean forward, but to the nurse’s chagrin, and opened her arms. “I-Is that…?”

“Yes, this is her,” the nurse said. Her professional medical decorum from before had melted into something more gentle as she stared down at the recovering woman. “Congratulations, dear. You’re a mother.”

A mother.

A small, swaddled baby with reddish-brown hair was deposited into Constance’s arms. She reflexively tucked the baby close to her chest, patting her protectively.

Now beaming from excitement, she mouthed for Ebenezer to join her, as well as Magda. The two edged closer, Ebenezer taking the lead.

When he drew close enough to gaze into his daughter’s eyes, he shivered and drew in a steady breath. “Gods, she’s so beautiful.”

The small baby was barely a minute old, and already looked entranced by the world around her. Wide, crystal-clear eyes glanced around the room with evident curiosity.

“She’s gorgeous, love,” Magda said while using the corner of her apron to dab her tears. “Just like you.”

The newborn's cheeks were flushed bright red, and her tiny nose had an owlish shape that Constance knew would give her a Roman profile as stunning as her father’s.

“Welcome, you amazing girl…” Constance whispered. The redheaded baby, her eyes large and crystal-blue, stared back at her mother like a mortal glimpsing a goddess.

“My beautiful star.”

#scrooge 2022 #scrooge netflix #scrooge x oc #oc constance dogoode #starla dogoode #tw birth

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a-shizno · 2 years

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A rvb dnd au where Tex was originally supposed to be the BBG of the campaign but Church’s character rolled a nat20 in seduction leaving the DM scrambling to:

a) find a way to give her personality

b) salvage the plot with the fact that Tex is not only a PC’S girlfriend but and old flame (thanks a lot York)

c) Figure out how to act out said personality and said plot changes

D) not murder Wyoming about how much he’s laughing

(‘shut up i let York keep his character as a ghost because he died to a series of unfortunate nat1s from the group as a whole during the first session. Not because he was sulking’)

It all comes to fruition as the following:

• Carolina tried to kill off Tex a couple of sessions in. She wasn’t prepared to do more than a simple NPC and monologues as a DM and felt that her stilted characterization was not something she wanted to ruin the campaign

• explained that Tex had made a pack with a strange God to become a warlock so they could obtain their goal

• established that Lopez was an enchanted suit of armor that was cursed to speak Spanish. York decided possess said armor

• Wyoming (who was playing Sarge btw) got written in as a villain because his“don’t act like it’s that hard to fix a campaign! Just write in a secret boss that we never could’ve predicted being such a thorn in the side when we were so focused on Tex!” Speech was not taken as well as he hoped

• Carolina brought back Tex bc she actually missed being able to interact with the others in game

• North fucked up a side quest by picking up a cursed blade! (guess who he played). He was aware that the quest was to guide crunchbite to the artifact! He knew he shouldn’t touch the glowing sword! He was going to take it for the lols. Now he has earned his consequences!

(Too bad he adores Junior with all his heart, made him a custom figure and everything)

• Connie and South very much are Simmons and Grif respectfully and the fact that the irl pinning is so severe that they have accidentally made their characters act like a married couple

•Tex’s betrayal marks the end of the first campaign where they take a break so Carolina could make a new campaign for they characters

•mean time they played two shot Out of Mind, and Recovery One in which they see some very familiar characters

•PLOT TWIST TURNS OUT THESE WEAK GODS ARE ACTUALLY JUST PARTS OF THIS ONE YOUNG GOD! THAT HE WAS TRICKED INTO STRIPPING AWAY PEICES FROM HIMSELF BECAUSE THE TOWN THAT WORSHIPED HIM WAS UNDER SEIGE AND AT THE TIME HE THOUGHT IT WAS THE ONLY WAY TO SAVE HIS PEOPLE!

bound to a relic that was hidden away He would give these smaller beings of ‘himself’ to do his will and help his people he would give them to the Director, the man he based his human visage after, not realizing that the siege was won and that the Director was now using these fragments to Gain more power as a ruler. He gives them to his strongest knights.

• Washington joins the campaign! He as new to DND, having tested the waters in the two shot and just just added himself but as a moody badass.

•Church is a god!

•The meta is still a thing and Maine, (who was very tickled to be the big bad) had been playing Lopez but took a break to play meta

•Church’s sacrifice is the end of another campaign!

•we tune back in on the new campaign! And Washington had a request for Carolina between stories

•even Maine was shocked when is was revealed by breaking Lopez’s sigil mid session that Sir Washington was a villain for this campaign, all except Florida

• Florida was heartbroken when he realized that two characters was too much for him at the moment and he had to choose between his characters. He eventually mentioned this to Wash who hinted that he could fix the issue

•he did not tell Florida beforehand the plan but he can’t complain bc it definitely solved the problem and the fact that he was able to save Doughnut’s life while giving Doc the spotlight was really great all around.

• with the artifact being saved Church is reborn as epsilon

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sydneyofalltrades · 1 year

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More Moni to bless your feed have her first interaction with the choir

Monique was disgusted. “Noel, tell me this is a joke.”

Noel turned to her. “What?”

He watched as she gestured to the grey dress and white button down. “This? I’m going to school in this?”

Noel nodded solemnly. “There isn’t anything I can do about it. Saint Cassian promotes modesty over style, unfortunately.”

Monique grimaced. “Oh, Lord, give me the strength to make it through this day.”

After having put on the ghastly thing, Monique took her new bag that Mona had generously insisted on giving her. It was still black, just bigger and not torn.

“Have a wonderful first day at school, Monique.” Monique read the note attached to the bag. Noel shrugged.

“Yeah, Mom’s not around in the mornings, she has super early shifts and a bunch of late shifts so I only really see her during her lunch break.”

Monique reread the note and smiled a little. “She still puts in effort. No one ever did that for me before.”

Noel handed her a bag. “Yeah, well, she really cares for people. Here’s your lunch.”

Monique took the bag and sat down and ate something with her brother.

It was heavenly. Not eating something rotten or feeling guilt for stealing or hoarding. Just a warm meal made for her.

The two of them found their way to the high school and Noel held Monique back.

“Hey, Monique? I’ve got some friends who want to meet you, and.. they’re a little intense sometimes.”

Monique shrugged. “I’m sure I can handle them. Oh, did you tell them I speak English?”

Noel shook his head. “They didn’t ask.”

Monique grinned. “Perfect.”

They walked into the school and Monique saw five other students, one in a wheelchair, waiting at the front entrance.

“Noel! Over here!”

Noel turned to the choir and sheepishly waved. The others walked over, and the guy in the wheelchair pushed himself to match their pace.

“Hey, guys! This is my new sister, Monique.”

He turned to the French girl and she nodded. A redhead girl stepped up and extended her hand.

“Ocean O’Connell Rosenberg, pleasure to meet you.”

Monique took her hand she shook it. “Merci! Tu as le visage d'un âne!”

Noel snorted and Ocean’s smile faltered slightly. “Oh, don’t you know English?”

Monique shrugged. “Oui, mais c'est plus facile de parler en français.”

Noel was quick to translate. “She says she does, but it’s easier for her to speak in French.”

Monique giggled slightly as Ocean’s little frown.

Another girl with curly hair dyed bright purple held a small Tupperware container.

“Hi, Monique. I’m Constance, and I made these for you.”

She opened the container and Monique looked inside to see her favorite desserts from home. She looked at Constance and smiled.

“Merci. C'est très gentil de ta part.”

“She says that’s very nice of you, Connie.”

Constance beamed and the boy in the wheelchair started using his hands very quickly. Monique didn’t understand but she knew the others did.

“And this is Ricky,” Noel said, “He’s mute but he’s still one of the most expressive people I know. He loves drawing, can you show her some, Rick?”

This boy, Ricky, pulled out a sketchbook and showed Monique an array of space drawings, of cat drawings, of portraits, of nature. Monique was stunned.

“It’s very beautiful,” she said softly. Ocean pointed at her.

“I thought you didn’t know English!”

“I never said that,” Monique snapped, “It was just more fun seeing you struggle.”

Ocean pouted as the others laughed. The guy with a cap looked up from his phone.

“Mischa,” he said, also with a thick accent. Monique was surprised.

“Where’re you from?”

“Ukraine,” Mischa said proudly, and Monique smiled.

“Thank God I’m not the only foreigner. I was worried.”

Mischa shrugged. “It’s hard, but you get used to it.”

The final girl, with brown pigtails, raised her hand slightly. “And I’m Penny,” she said softly, “It’s wonderful meeting you, Moni. If we can call you Moni.”

Monique thought about it. No one had ever given her a nickname before. But she smiled.

“Sure. It’s nice.”

Penny smiled and tried to hug her, then restrained herself.

“You probably don’t like hugs, huh?”

Monique shrugged. “First time for everything. Besides, you guys are.. alright, I guess.”

Penny gave her a big hug and Moni smiled a little. She looked up at Noel’s friends, at a ragtag group that she was now a part of.

And she kinda liked it. Now she wasn’t so alone

#moni gruber #the amount of moni content i make these days in uncomparable #i love her so much fr #ride the cyclone #rtc au #sydneys weirdness

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outoftheirdifferences · 1 year

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Just wanted to share these! The ones in the first line are probably familiar, they've been decorating my 'primary muses' page for a while now; and I just today drew up the rest of the canon characters I play on here to make the 'secondary muses' page match!

...okay, the observant will notice that this is NOT all of my canon muses: Terra is missing. I tried to include her too, but just couldn't get her looking good today so I decided to just focus on getting everyone else's done instead; she'll be added in the future.

That means that, yeah, I'm going to be removing Terra from my muses page for the time being. She's not going anywhere, is still on this blog; but without a nice matching image for her I feel like it would make the page look messy xD; She's still available for RP and asks and everything; and she'll be back on the page as soon as I get up an image for her, too.

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sacrisomnia · 16 days

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@fcused asked: ❛ It’s four o'clock in the morning, what are you doing? ❜

"Oh! Shit," Quentin fumbled his notebook shut, his pen bookmarking the page he was on. "Shit, you scared me."

Connie cast a wan shadow over him, the early light limning her hair into a russet halo. She looked more awake than he felt--which was not a hard comparison to achieve.

"I was...studying? We got that big chem test next week, so, you know," he bluffed. Technically it wasn't a lie, as he had started out studying. But then his thoughts strayed with his pen, and eventually transitioned into drawing cats and skulls with a mediocre hand. She caught him while he was in the early stages of outlining Nancy's visage--not a romanticized leftover of a severed intimacy, but just a symptom of his homesickness. Phone calls and mailed polaroids were only so much.

"Can't sleep, anyway."

Sleep only ever came in snatches for him. No matter what bed, what room, what floor, what state, he still lay there in a cold sweat, paranoia prickling the back of his neck, fearing Krueger's face on the other side of his window or his nightmares. Forever worried that once he fell asleep he wasn't going to wake back up. An unkillable dread he had no reason to have over a dead man. Still, it left him antsy. So he's been doing this; passing the tired hours of the morning at one of the benches outside the library, pretending to study.

Quentin gestured towards her, amicable: "What about you? Also looking to get ahead of the academic curve?"

#*answered.#fcused #:3c

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juliethefinalgirl · 2 months

Note

receiver finds sender desperately trying to wash the blood off of themself [ Leland ]

my thoughts for this one are post-house, Julie waking up in the middle of the night. maybe they're all having a sleep-over, hears the tap run in the kitchen, goes to investigate ... only to see Leland standing in front of the sink, desperately scrubbing at his hands with such force that his skin has turned red- if she asks why, he would state he still sees it, the blood on his hands... that it just doesn't come off- but there is nothing there

"Leland...Leland?" It was like Julie was hearing her own voice in an echo chamber and the world was twisting around her. The smell of blood reawakens the warped memories of the past, blade to flesh, screams to the walls, bones--

Laughter.

Under the dim orange lights of the kitchen, Julie's green eyes immediately falls onto the tall familiar figure before her. She swallows thickly, feeling that trembling in her racing heart whenever Julie saw him. There was a mix of tingles, goosebumps, and intense passion behind her scared green eyes that watched his back. Julie quickly runs her fingers through brown messy threshes, brushing her messy braid behind her shoulder.

Julie felt nervous but she needed to approach him.

"Leland, hey. It's Jules. You're up really late."

She makes a nervous chuckle, suddenly feeling so small the closer Julie had gotten to Leland. It may had been watered down but Julie could still smell that hint of metal tickling her nostrils--the memories attached to that smell was still so fresh.

But why that smell? Why this late? What was he doing?

Julie shuffles up next to him, hugging herself and tightening the hoodie around herself--it felt too hot from within the over-sized article of clothing. Or was it because Julie was just nervous?

The water from the tab was running at a violent rate, pounding at the bottom surface of the sink and splashing away at Leland's hands. Maybe some part of Julie's mind tried to block out the image of the instrument that he was trying to clean off but not the metallic smell. It was strong enough to cause Julie to freeze and squeeze herself a little tighter as memories from the past flicker across her mind--the chainsaw screaming in the distance, laughter from all around her, Julie feeling vulnerable.

She still needed to talk to a therapist after all that but there was little time. As of recently, the group (or whomever remained) had begun to have frequent sleepovers for comfort. After the massacre back in Newt, Julie had been paranoid and in recovery from all the trauma as doing her daily routine had become more challenging the last couple of months. But she still had Ana, Connie, and Leland still--they still talked. They were all still there.

A stray drop of water hits into Julie's cheek, snapping out of her reverie. It was cold, near freezing as it streamed down her cheek and off her chin. Julie wipes her face, looking at her clear fingers to see that her skin was now mildly damp with no other color. Or color she refused to recognize but the smell, it was so strong that it had Julie's limbs trembling. 'Don't freak out Julie, just don't,' Julie thought to herself with reassurance. Taking a breath, mentally preparing herself to look at what fate has brought her today. And it was beautiful, it was Leland's side profile from his sharp nose to his plush lips. There was light scarring in areas, some healed while others were recovering. His furrowed thick brows caught her attention however, drawing her gaze to drift--noticing his pupils nearly dilated with deep under eye-bags beneath his lashes. Julie squinted her eyes, her visage capturing a mixture of distressing emotions.

Confusion.

"Leland," Julie breathes while looking from his face down to his chest, spotting flickers of red. She freezes, the smell was too strong now

Concern.

"What's.. what's that on your shirt? What did you do?" Julie swallows thickly again, her mind racing with all types of thoughts that have yet to be formulated. Her arms quickly unfold themselves from her sides, hands immediately reaching to his body as her eyes dart between his face to his shirt.

Panic.

"Leland what are you doing?"

#julie crawford #julietlk #leland #response #[ answered ]#tcm #tcm julie

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seoulserpents · 2 months

Text

꙰ૈ☆ 𝗽͟𝗮͟𝗿͟𝗸͟ 𝗻͟𝗮͟𝗺͟𝗿͟𝗮

full name : namra — nicknames : namnam — age : 24 (2000) — zodiac sign : gemini — nationality : korean — relationship : chin-hae’s — ★ —

Namra c’est un peu la fille que tout le monde veut être. Jolie, populaire, membre de l’équipe de cheerleader, bonne élève. C’est l’image qu’elle s’est façonnée ces dernières années, parce que la brune n’a pas toujours été cette jeune étudiante modèle. Fille unique, elle voit le jour dans une famille aimante, voir un peu trop vu la manière dont elle a toujours été surprotégée, couvée par ses parents. Pas étonnant venant du couple qui n’avait que très peu de chances de devenir parents. Elle vit une enfance normale, entourée de sa famille, de ses parents. C’est une enfant des plus normales.

Puis l’âge ingrat.

C’est quand elle a quinze ans et qu’elle arrive au lycée, que Namra se rend compte de la cruauté des autres enfants de son âge, regrettant presque la façon dont ses parents avaient de la protéger en permanence. Elle ne répond pas aux standards : un peu plus en chair que les autres filles de son âge, de grosses lunettes qui prennent la moitié de son visage, des vêtements trop larges, pas à la mode, toujours un livre à la main, elle est le stéréotype de la gamine qui se fait harceler à cause de son apparence. Elle se renferme donc sur elle même, continue d’étudier plus longtemps, mieux, juste pour obtenir une aide et quitter la pauvre ville dans lequel elle grandit. Mais elle est l’élève préférée, celle qui lève toujours la main pour répondre, celle qui a les meilleures notes et surtout, elle n’a pas d’ami, donc c’est presque normal pour les autres élèves de s’en prendre à elle, de la harceler et de se moquer d’elle un peu plus chaque jour.

Trois ans d’enfer, trois années compliquées pour la lycéenne qui attend qu’une chose, obtenir son diplôme et s’envoler pour l’université de Séoul. Ses parents ne se font pas de souci pour elle, savent qu’elle y arrivera donc ils lui financent ses études et l’aident à payer son appartement tous les mois. C’est une nouvelle Namra qui fait son arrivée à Séoul, à l’université, une Namra différente. Sport, changement radical d’apparence, elle n’a plus ses lunettes qu’elle a troqué pour des lentilles, a laissé ses cheveux noirs pousser, a rejoint l’équipe de cheerleaders de la fac et surtout elle a perdu beaucoup de poids. Sauf que cette perte n’est sans conséquence. Elle se découvre des troubles de l’alimentation, angoisse au moindre gramme qu’elle peut prendre, fait énormément attention à son apparence, en vient même à se faire vomir dès que l’angoisse est beaucoup trop puissante. Peut-être qu’elle est considérée comme une personne superficielle pour les autres étudiants, mais personne ne se doute de ce que la jeune femme peut être en train de traverser.

Sauf Connie.

Connie, c’est son rayon de soleil. Sa meilleure amie. La seule personne à qui elle ose se confier et à qui elle ose raconter ses problèmes. Les deux meilleures amies sont différentes sur plusieurs points. L’une est plus timide que l’autre, l’une un peu plus grande gueule, n’ont pas les centres d’intérêt. Mais peu importe si elles ne font pas les mêmes choses, si elles ne sont pas intéressées par les mêmes choses dans la vie, parce que le soir plus rien ne compte, pas quand Namra se rend chez son amie est qu’elle a le plaisir de partager un repas avec elle et Nana – sa grande sœur. Il y’a aussi Chin-hae. C’est par le biais de l’équipe de basket qu’elle encourage qu’elle le rencontre, le croisant plusieurs fois aux soirées étudiantes organisées. Le jeune homme est le stéréotype du joueur de basket, toujours une femme différente à son bras, taquin, qui ne prend rien au sérieux, et pourtant ça empêche pas la brune de tomber sous son charme et d’avoir le béguin pour lui. Béguin réduit au néant quand elle se rend compte que le garçon ne s’intéressera jamais à une pauvre première année. Malentendu ou pas, c’est quelques années plus tard qu’ils se retrouvent, et ça lui arrache la bouche d’avouer que si Kirby ne lui avait pas fait du rentre dedans, ils ne se seraient jamais parlé, mais c’est le bel et bien le cas.

En se sentant aussi entourée, avec sa meilleure amie, son homme et ses nouveaux amis, c’est la Namra de quinze ans qui est en train de guérir.

#NAMRA

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lignes2frappe · 1 year

Text

45 ANS APRÈS LE PREMIER FILM, QUE SONT DEVENUS LES HÉROS DE ROCKY ?

Le 21 novembre 1976, la saga faisait ses débuts sur grand écran…

Peut-être plus encore que n’importe quel autre film de boxe, les Rocky parlent avant tout d’autre chose que de boxe.

La solitude, l’abnégation, affronter ses peurs, la quête de soi, l’entraide, l’envie, la transmission… qu’importe pour le spectateur d’avoir mis ou non les gants un jour, les thèmes abordés en filigrane font écho à tout un chacun.

Au-delà de la qualité intrinsèque des films ou de la crédibilité des combats, voilà très certainement ce qui explique l’immense affection dont bénéficie aujourd’hui encore la saga.

Hommage à celles et ceux qui ont donné corps à ce mythe moderne.

Sylvester Stallone

À moins d’avoir passé les 45 dernières années à regarder du cinéma d’art et d’essai, vous savez forcément ce qu’il est devenu. Profitons-en donc pour nous pencher d’un peu plus près sur le parallèle entre sa vie et le personnage de Rocky, tant les deux se confondent.

Comme dans Rocky I, Sly en a sacrément bavé avant de connaître sur le tard le succès : paralysie partielle du visage à la naissance, prénom chelou, petits boulots à la noix (comme gardien de zoo), nuits dehors, soft-porn pour payer ses factures… Troisième personne seulement de l’histoire des Oscars à être nommé pour le même film dans les catégories meilleur acteur et meilleur scénariste (après Charlie Chaplin et Orson Welles, excusez du peu), son avenir s’annonce brillant.

Comme dans Rocky II où après avoir formellement écarté l’idée d’une revanche (« It ain’t gonna be no rematch! ») Balboa change d’avis contre un gros chèque, il se laisse gentiment corrompre par le système en remisant ses velléités artistiques pour proposer un film plus consensuel, raccord avec les canons de l’héroïsme hollywoodien.

Short aux couleurs de la bannière étoilée, musculature hypertrophiée à mille lieux d��un corps forgé dans une salle de boxe, la bonne blague au bon moment… comme dans Rocky III, il commence à s’embourgeoiser dans les grandes largeurs avec des choix de carrière de plus en plus paresseux.

Comme dans Rocky IV, Stallone se mue en porte-drapeau de l’American Way of Life. À l’apogée de sa carrière, après s’en être retourné gagner à lui tout seul la guerre du Viêtnam dans Rambo 2, il va en découdre avec l’ultime bastion de résistance à l’impérialisme, la Russie de Karl Marx et Engels.

Comme dans Rocky V qui toute sa vie reste un boxeur aux yeux des autres, il a beau essayer de s’échapper de la cage dans laquelle il s’est lui-même enfermé (les films d’action), le public ne l’entend pas de cette oreille – le film est un four.

Comme dans Rocky Balboa, Stallone n’est jamais aussi bon que lorsqu’il est genou à terre, tandis que la carte de la nostalgie et du second degré annonce le revival à venir Expendables.

John G. Avildsen

Décédé d’un cancer à 81 ans, il peut se targuer d’avoir réalisé le meilleur opus de la saga, le premier, pour lequel il a reçu un Oscar, et le pire, le cinquième.

Paradoxalement, il était à l’époque passé à deux doigts de refuser Rocky I, au prétexte « qu’il n’était pas plus emballé que ça par une histoire de boxe ».

En dépit de l’immense succès du film, trois ans plus tard, il décline Rocky II – « L’une de [ses] plus grosses erreurs »

En 1984, il renoue avec les hauteurs du box-office en initiant une nouvelle franchise à succès, Karaté Kid, dont il réalisera cette fois les deux suites.

En 2016, dix-sept ans après son dernier film, Inferno en 1999, sort le documentaire John G. Avildsen: King of the Underdogs dans lequel notamment Burt Reynolds et Martin Scorsese reviennent sur sa filmographie.

À l’annonce de sa disparition en 2017, Stallone s’était fendu d’un communiqué dans lequel il déclarait « tout lui devoir » et lui faisait grâce d’avoir « changé sa vie ».

Talia Shire

Née Tali Rose Coppola, elle se fait connaître en 1972 quand son frère Francis Ford (Coppola) lui confie le rôle de Connie dans Le Parrain, la fille de Don Corleone.

Mariée en 1970 au compositeur David Shire, elle ne change son nom de famille ni quand elle divorce dix ans plus tard, ni quand elle convole en noces une seconde fois.

Après avoir été nommé en 1974 dans la catégorie meilleure actrice dans un second rôle pour Le Parrain II, en 1976 le rôle d’Adrian lui vaut d’accéder à la catégorie reine, meilleure actrice dans un rôle principal.

[Notez au passage que Joe Spinell, le caïd Tony Gazzzo dans Rocky I et II, joue également dans les Parrain I et II.]

Présente dans les quatre films suivants, elle n’est cependant pas de l’aventure Rocky Balboa en 2006… Stallone ne s’imaginant peut-être pas donner la réplique à une femme de son âge…

En retrait depuis 2007 après avoir tourné une quarantaine de films, Talia Shire a en 2020 participé à la campagne de promotion de Coda: The Godfather, The Death of Michael Corleone, la nouvelle version du Parrain III.

Burgess Meredith

Bien que principalement connu pour le rôle de l’irascible Mickey Goldmill, il a joué dans plus d’une centaine de longs-métrages au cours des quelque soixante ans qu’ont duré sa carrière.

Il s’est également distingué sur le petit écran de 1959 à 1964 dans la série culte de science-fiction La Quatrième Dimension, ainsi que dans le Batman d’Adam West où il incarnait Le Pingouin.

Nommé en 1975 aux Oscars dans la catégorie meilleur second rôle masculin pour Le Jour du fléau, Rocky I lui a permis de doubler la mise l’année suivante, quand bien même la statuette lui a de nouveau échappé.

Décédé en 1997 à 89 ans des conséquences de la maladie d’Alzheimer, Burgess Meredith a tenu la distance jusqu’au bout, lui qui en 1995 pouvait encore être vu à l’affiche de trois films.

Burt Young

Là aussi si le rôle du beau-frère Pennino éclipse le reste de sa filmographie, Burt Young peut s’enorgueillir d’avoir participé à quelques chefs d’œuvres comme Chinatown (1974) et Il était une fois en Amérique (1984), ainsi que d’avoir été dirigé par des pointures comme Sam Peckinpah (Le Convoi en 1978) et Nick Cassavetes (She’s So Lovely en 1997).

Ça, et aussi des piges dans Miam Vice (1984) et Les Soprano (2001).

Bon attention, grassouillet et geignard dans Rocky, dans ses jeunes années Burt Young n’avait que peu à voir avec son personnage, lui qui après avoir servi dans les Marines a mené une carrière de boxeur pro tout à fait respectable : sous la houlette de Cus D’Amato, le futur entraîneur de Mike Tyson, son palmarès compte 17 combats pour autant de victoires.

Toujours actif sur les plateaux à 81 ans, Burt Young continue en parallèle de s’adonner à sa seconde grande passion, la peinture. Artiste reconnu, ses œuvres sont régulièrement exposées.

Carl Weathers

Flamboyant en ‘Master of Disaster’, beaucoup voyaient en lui l’une des prochaines stars de la décennie.

Ancien footballeur pro, il fait d’ailleurs voir son physique avantageux dans Predator en 1987, avant de tenter en 1988 d’initier dans la peau du sergent Jericho ‘Action’ Jackson sa propre franchise, Action Jackson.

Le flop est alors tel qu’il ne tournera qu’un petit film lors des huit années suivantes…

Weathers expliquera qu’à trop être confondu avec Apollo Creed, lorsque le personnage est tragiquement décédé dans Rocky IV (un décès qui en 2008 encore traumatisait Booba), public et producteurs le pensaient lui aussi disparu.

Est-ce pour cela que 21 ans après il a exigé de se voir attribuer un rôle en chair et en os dans Rocky Balboa ? Toujours est-il que devant le refus de Stallone, il lui a interdit d’utiliser la moindre image d’archive d’Apollo – raison pour laquelle, une doublure est utilisée dans les flashbacks.

Vu depuis 1975 au générique de quantité de séries télé à succès (Starsky & Hutch, Dans la chaleur de la nuit, Urgences, The Shield…), Weathers passe à l’occasion derrière la caméra, comme récemment pour l’épisode 4 de la saison 2 de The Mandalorian, le spin off Disney+ de Star Wars.

Sinon, et ça fait plaisir, en 2015 il a prêté ses traits à l’un des combattants du jeu vidéo Mortal Kombat X.

Tony Burton

Boxeur poids-lourd dans sa jeunesse, il participe aux prestigieux Golden Gloves dans les années 50. Ce début de carrière prometteur est toutefois avorté par sa condamnation à trois ans et demi de prison pour braquage.

À sa libération, il décide de rester dans le droit chemin et se lance en tant que comédien.

Vu dans Assaut de John Carpenter en 1976, il décroche dans la foulée le rôle de Tony ‘Duke’ Evers, l’entraîneur d’Appolo dans les deux premiers films, puis celui de Rocky.

Présent au générique des six films, on lui doit quelques répliques mémorables comme le « No pain ! » des entraînements de Rocky IV, ou le speech « Let’s start building some hurting bombs » de Rocky Balboa.

Autre fait de gloire de sa biographie, il a défié et battu Stanley Kubrick aux échecs.

« J’avais été engagé sur Shinning. Initialement, mon contrat durait une semaine. Je n’avais que deux petites scènes à tourner. Je suis resté six semaines car Stanley voulait jouer avec moi. Il était bien meilleur que moi, mais j’arrivais à lui donner le change. J’ai même remporté l’une de nos premières parties. Après ça, il ne m’a plus laissé gagner une seule fois. »

En retrait des plateaux de tournage après 2007 pour cause de problèmes de santé, Burton n’apparaît dans Creed: l’héritage de Rocky Balboa que via des images d’archive.

Le nom Evers ne disparaît pas pour autant de la saga puisque son fils ‘Little Duke’ Evers (Wood Harris) est celui qui dirige la Delphi Boxing Academy, le gymnase dans lequel Adonis fait ses armes.

Malheureusement, Tony Burton n’a pas eu le loisir d’apprécier à cet hommage, il nous a quittés en 2016 à l’âge de 78 ans des suites d’une longue maladie.

Hulk Hogan

Catcheur de renom dès la fin des années 70, Terry Bollea de son vrai nom fait ses grands débuts au cinéma en 1982 dans Rocky 3 : L’Œil du tigre où il en découd avec l’Étalon Italien lors d’une exhibition inspirée d’un combat de son rival de l’époque, le français André le Géant.

S’ensuivent une quinzaine de rôles sur grand écran pas franchement mémorables, et des apparitions régulières dans les séries télé du moment (L’Agence tous risques, La croisière s’amuse, Alerte à Malibu, Walker Texas Ranger…).

Couronné douze fois champion WWE du temps de sa splendeur, dans les années 2000 il se spécialise dans la téléréalité, notamment en mettant en scène sa petite famille dans Hogan Knows Best sur VH1.

En 2012, il défraye la chronique lorsqu’une sextape candauliste qui le met en scène avec la femme d’un animateur radio fuite. Si apparemment madame et monsieur n’avaient rien contre, Hogan lui l’a très mal pris et a fini par obtenir en 2016 environ 30 millions de dollars de dommages et intérêts.

Toujours est-il que cela ne l’empêche pas d’arrondir ses fins de mois en vendant des costumes d’Halloween sur son site internet.

Mister T

Ancien videur de boîte de nuit et garde du corps de célébrités (Steve McQueen, Diana Ross, Muhammad Ali…), Laurence Tureaud a beau avoir écopé d’une nomination aux Razzie Awards pour son interprétation de James ‘Clubber’ Lang, cela ne l’a pas empêché de rapidement devenir une icône de la pop culture.

Crête Mohawk et kilos de chaînes en or autour du cou, il intègre de 1983 à 1987 le casting L’Agence tous risques dans le rôle de Barracuda, non sans se lancer en parallèle dans le catch, formant à l’occasion un duo avec Hulk Hogan.

Au début des années 90, un cancer le force cependant à prendre ses distances avec la célébrité.

En 2002, il amorce son retour avec un caméo dans le clip Pass the Courvoisier Part II de Busta Rhymes, P.Diddy et Pharrell.

Lorsqu’en 2005 l’ouragan Katrina dévaste la Louisiane, il arrête de porter de la joaillerie. Devenu entretemps un fervent chrétien, il ne souhaite en effet pas « manquer de respect » à ceux qui ont tout perdu.

En 2006, les caméras de la téléréalité I Pity the Fool (du nom de sa célèbre punchline) le suivent de ville en ville prodiguer ses conseils de vie à qui veut les entendre (parents, couples, employés…). L’expérience ne dure que six épisodes.

En 2010, contrairement à ses anciens petits camarades Dwight Schultz et Dirk Benedict, il refuse d’apparaître dans l’adaptation ciné de L’Agence tous risques au motif que le film n’est pas fidèle à l’esprit de la série, car trop violent et bourrés d’effets spéciaux.

Autre déception, il n’apparaîtra pas non plus dans le prochain Expendables 4, malgré la pétition Facebook en sa faveur.

Doph Lundgren

Petit ami de la chanteuse Grace Jones, à 21 ans le Suédois décroche grâce à elle une apparition dans le James Bond Dangereusement vôtre. Lui qui quelques semaines auparavant était encore étudiant en chimie décide alors de poursuivre sur sa lancée en auditionnant pour Rambo 2 : La Mission. Bien que recalé, Stallone le trouve « tellement parfait » que lui vient l’idée d’en faire le grand méchant de Rocky IV.

Musclor dans Les Maîtres de l’univers en 1987, Frank Castle dans Le Punisher en 1989, sans arriver au niveau de Sly ou Schwarzenegger, il s’impose comme un action hero crédible dans les vidéo-clubs.

Au cours des années 90, il se fait remarquer dans Universal Soldier avec Jean-Claude Van Damme et L’Homme de guerre, son plus joli succès critique à ce jour – le scénario signé par le réalisateur indé John Sayles n’y étant pas pour rien.

Plutôt que de creuser dans cette voie, Lundgren préfère toutefois enchaîner les tournages low cost dans les pays d’Europe de l’Est.

2010 marque son retour sur le devant de la scène avec le premier Expendables – deux autres suivront, un quatrième est en route.

Puis, après les très (très) suspects Un flic à la maternelle 2 et Female Fight Club, en 2018, trente-trois ans après ses débuts, il renfile le costume de Drago dans Creed II. Malheureusement, c’est peu dire que la déception a été au rendez-vous, avec un personnage qui n’a quasiment pas évolué et une histoire de revanche aussi linéaire que convenue.

Brigitte Nielsen

Compagne très platine de Drago dans Rocky IV, elle était à la ville la meuf de Sly.

Outre le fait d’avoir retrouvé ce dernier l’année suivante dans le bien couillu Cobra (si, si), à cette même période elle a également été l’héroïne du troisième Conan de Kalidor avec Arnold Schwarzenegger, puis la grande méchante du Flic de Beverly Hills 2.

Candidate au titre de reine des actionners 80’s, la Danoise et son mètre 85 se sont ensuite malheureusement perdus dans un océan de séries B nanardeuses à la 976-EVIL 2: The Astral Factor, Codename: Silencer et autre Snowboard Academy (nan mais sérieux, rien que les titres…), sans oublier en 2014, Mercenaries, un plagiat au féminin bien fauché des Expendables.

Aujourd’hui, elle ne fait guère l’actu que pour ses télé-réalités sordides (Strange Love où elle flirte avec Falvor Flav, La Ferme Célébrités en Afrique, Aus alt mach où elle met en scène ses opérations de chirurgie esthétique, Celebrity Rehab où elle soigne son alcoolisme…), et sa vie privée tumultueuse (mariée pour la cinquième fois en 2006, elle a donné naissance à son cinquième enfant en 2018 à l’âge de 54 ans).

Tommy Morrison

Vrai boxeur poids lourd, en 1989, il attire l’attention de Stallone en combattant 19 fois (!) pour autant de victoires.

De retour sur les rings après la parenthèse Tommy ‘Machine’ Gunn, il remporte sept combats d’affilée et se voit offrir une chance d’accéder au titre mondial en octobre 1991. S’il est défait pour la première fois de sa carrière, il rebondit avec huit nouvelles victoires de rang, toutes par KO, et finit par s’arroger la ceinture contre George Foreman en 1993.

Quatre mois plus tard, il est cependant corrigé par le quidam Michael Bent qui l’envoie trois fois au tapis au premier round. Morrison avouera plus tard s’être beaucoup relâché question discipline et avoir même assisté la veille au soir à un concert.

Battu pour la troisième fois de sa carrière par Lennox Lewis en octobre 1995, début 1996 il est testé séropositif. Ses combats à venir sont alors tous annulés (dont celui prévu contre Mike Tyson).

De là, il multiplie les écarts de conduite (conduite en état d’ébriété, possession d’arme à feu…), jusqu’à passer deux ans en prison au début des années 2000.

En 2007, coup de théâtre, Tommy Morrisson affirme avoir passé trois nouveaux tests VIH, tous négatifs, et annonce vouloir mettre les gants. Si de nombreux experts affichent leur scepticisme, il parvient bon an, mal an à ajouter deux nouvelles victoires à son palmarès (48 victoires, 42 KO, 3 défaites, 1 nul).

Au début des années 10, son état de santé se dégrade cependant fortement. Le 1er septembre 2013, il décède à 44 ans après deux années passées dans un état quasi végétatif.

Bill Conti

Compositeur de l’inoubliable thème Gonna Fly Now (« Pin-pinlinlin-pinlinlin-pinlinlin »), Bill Conti, qui n’était pas amateur de boxe pour un sou, a trouvé l’inspiration en visionnant des combats au ralenti avec en fond la symphonie Eroica de Ludwig Van Beethoven – « C’était comme un ballet ».

À l’exception de Rocky IV où sa musique est remplacée par de la bonne grosse pop rock FM, il est ensuite rappelé pour chacun des opus de la saga jusqu’à Rocky Balboa.

Oscarisé en 1983 pour la grandiloquente bande originale de L’Étoffe des héros, il retrouve John G. Avildsen pour Karaté Kid, puis remplace Eric Serra sur la version américaine du Grand Bleu de Luc Besson (1988).

Sa discographie compte au total une soixantaine de BO.

Irwin Winkler

Coproducteur de l’intégralité de la saga (les six premiers Rocky, plus les deux Creed), il a également contribué à cet autre grand classique du noble art qu’est Raging Bull de Martin Scorsese.

Il cultive d’ailleurs une solide relation avec ce dernier, les deux hommes ayant collaboré sur Les Affranchis (1990), Le Loup de Wall Street (2013) et le récent Irishman (2019).

Dans un autre genre, on lui doit en 1995 en tant que réalisateur la « pépite » Traque sur internet avec une Sandra Bullock dont il était impossible de ne pas tomber amoureux malgré la ringardise complète du film.

Publié sur Booska-p.com le 18 novembre 2021.

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