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midnightsmindmv · 2 months

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The Summer We Turned 🧸 🍋Pretty🫐 🐚

master list

chapter 1, chapter 2

tag list: @sunflowermyheart @void21

pairing: steven conklin x fisher!oc

summary: just as Belly had Conrad, Alva had Steven. 16 years of unrequited love but this summer was going to change it all.

tags: jealous Steven, fluff, angst, underaged drinking, Belly x Cameron, Susannah lives, Steven is an idiot, Alva Fisher and Taylor do not get along, protective Conrad and Jeremiah.

wc: 1.5k

🪼🌊🪼🌊🪼🌊

May was the worst month in the whole world and it had been for as long as I could remember. Just that feeling of something being so close, all you can think about is how much you want it. My mother took the whole month to get the house prepared, adding on a few things to each of the Conklin’s rooms depending on what she’d heard from Laurel. This year she’d added a few things to Laurel’s study to work on a new book. Or buying heaps of board games, puzzles, water slides, soccer balls, tennis rackets, snacks—every possible thing you could think of, our house became a constant reminder that it wasn’t quite summer but it was almost there.

This year it would be May 5th that the air would suddenly change, feel warmer and the feeling of waking up would be less horrid. And that feeling of pure excitement, like anything could happen and it would all be wonderful snapped into place when I heard a honk of a car.

“They are here!” Mom yells.

This year me and Belly had been talking a lot in between summers. Now that we were older there were going to be some changes to the way things went in Cousins. We both agreed this year had given us some significant glow ups.

For one I started using products that helped my wavy hair. It happened by accident when I mixed up my brother Jeremiah’s curl cream with my leave in conditioner. I had always thought my hair was just frizzy, turns out it looked more like Jere’s than my mother’s. I’d also grown out my hair and I felt like I found my fashion sense. At least my mom thought so.

Neither me nor Belly had explicitly told each other why this summer was going to be “our summer” or what we were gonna do with our hot selves but deep down we knew. My dear friend Belly has had a huge crush on my eldest brother Conrad since she learned to say his name “onad” or “onnie”. our nicknames have changed so much throughout the years. They used to call me “Ally” before it was just AV or “v” i like my real name though Alva. But Steven calls me Guppy and I call him Conkle, like a conkle shell. Both far removed from our last names Fisher and Conklin.

Now I’m not sure what I want him to call me. Guppy or Fishy makes me feel like little kid. I’m 16 and I don’t want Steven to think of me as a little kid. Because just as Belly has had Conrad, I have Steven. 16 years of unrequited love between the two of us. How embarrassing.

But this summer was different, this was the summer we turned pretty.

“I’m coming!” The floorboards of the stairs creak as I quickly ascend.

“Geez elephant feet calm down.” Jeremiah jokes but I can tell he’s equally as excited to see the Conklins.

I wouldn’t let my nerves get the best of me. I knew as soon as I saw him it would just be like old times. There is something about Steven that just puts me at ease, even though he teases me. Even if I was all awkward he would still be Steven.

“Where’s Con?” I ask my other brother.

“He’s been surfing…where have you been? Writing in your diary about how you wanna makeout with steven all summer?” Jeremiah bolts out the door before I can smack him.

Deep breaths.

🍋🧸🍋🧸🍋🧸🍋

Stevens POV

“Bro!” I step out of the car and stretch my aching legs to jog over to Jeremiah.

No matter how long it’s been since I’ve seen the Fishers it’s all just the same as soon as we return. It all falls back into place as I hug Jeremiah.

“Oh you’ve both grown so much!” I can tell Susannah is resisting the urge to pinch our cheeks. I’d let her, Susannah is an angel.

“Look who came back all grown up!” Jeremiah pulls Belly into a big hug after embracing mom.

“Alva should be out and Conrad’s coming up soon!” Susannah looks to the door and there she is. The door opens again.

“A-Alva?”

“Hey conkle shell”

She called back at me with a held back grin plastered on her face. Her very different face. Alva had always been Alva, but there was something about her—everything about her it was all different. Her strapless white dress flowed with her hair as she jogged over and bro code began to slowly escape my mind as she wrapped her arms around my neck.

“Hey Fishie.” Her hair was most noticeable. No longer frizzy and tangled but thick and wavy. She wore it down with a little claw clip holding half her hair up. She never used to dress like this.

Alva released herself from my grasp slowly. “Conrad’s coming up—now actually.” She chuckles and glances and Belly who looked expectantly towards the gate.

Greeting Conrad shook my senses back into place. It’s Guppy we are talking about. She’s like my little sister. She’s maturing for sure and it totally not weird for me to notice how pretty she looks—I see it in Isabel too. No difference…

I took one last glance at Alva before encouraging a Belly-flop.

🫧✨🫧✨🫧

Alva POV

“Conrad was smiling all for you.” I giggle and wrap Belly up in a beach towel. It was true, Conrad hadn’t been smiling a lot lately but Belly could bring it out of him.

A big but shy smile flashed on her face and stayed plastered while we walked into the house. And sat at the kitchen island

“Oh look at my girls! Oh Laurel we have such beautiful daughters.” Mom gushed, never one to keep in a compliment. It was something I learned from her.

“I know, it’s crazy how mature you look Alva.” She stopped to admire the two of us, now blushing girls “Aw, you guys are gorgeous.” Laurel rubbed my back.

This summer was going to be just us and the moms— “the woman and the children” as mom says. Dad was working…he’s been busy a lot leading up to this summer. The good news is he’ll be back on the 4th with Mr. Conklin as Laurel informed us.

🐻‍❄️🫐🐻‍❄️🫐🐻‍❄️🫐

“We literally have to do everything we planned. I know this is gonna be a great summer Belly boo.” We plopped down on her bed after our hard work unpacking her things.

I notice how even a few minutes of Belly being in the room it already feels lived in—comfortable. Before the Conklins arrived absence of Belly in the room made of feel cold when I walked by but now I can feel it’s warmth. Belly has always been that person for me, my comfort friend. Our moms used to say we were always supposed to be twins even if I’m a little older than her that didn’t matter.

“Definitely.” She smiled, I could see the excitement in her eyes. “Do you think your mom is gonna do the surf competition again this year?

I looked up, contemplating. Last year mom had taught Laurel to surf and we all did a competition adults vs kids. Mom even set it up to be like an official event with dad and our neighbors as the judges. It was the highlight of the summer, even though Conrad smoked us all right out of the water.

“Oh my gosh I hope, that was amazing!”

Jeremiah popped his head into the room, before plopping down on the bed too.

Jeremiah pulled out is puppy dog eyes “Come on let’s go swimming Belly. Pretty please?”

“I was gonna help my mom at whale of a tail but…” she looked into Jeremiah’s pleading eyes and quickly caved, “ok yeah sure. You wanna come AV?”

“You guys go ahead I might meet you later. I’m gonna wait for Steven to get back.”

Jeremiah and Belly look at each other with cheeky smiles.

Jeremiah laughs as he gets off the bed. “Oooh ok yeah wait for your Conkle Shell.”

I can’t exactly read Belly’s face which moves me to impulsively defend myself. “He’d be home alone—I have no idea where Conrad is.” They looked at each other again and I groaned, “come oooonnn guys it’s not weird for me and Steven to hangout alone.”

My brothers eye roll annoys me ever so slightly. “Yeah but you’re older now and Steven is a dude.”

“Jeremiah… you and Belly and going to the beach alone.”

His eyes widen for a second. “Oh yeah I guess you’re right…ok you’re off the hook it’s not weird.”

Belly laughed leaning into me. “Ok get out so I can change.”

🥭🌞🥭🌞🥭🌞

I looked at my phone, Steven would be home any minute and I was currently debating on changing too. But I decided to save the outfit for the bonfire tonight. If today went well with Steven we could probably hangout at the bonfire too—and with a few beers in me who knows how the night could go.

I could hear the waves clearly from the kitchen. Belly and Jeremiah were gone now and the house was probably the most quiet it would be all summer.

My stomach did a few flips as I heard the door.

“Anyone home?”

“Just me Steven!”

#belly conklin #conrad fisher #jeremiah fisher #fanfic #steven conklin #swifties #the summer i turned pretty #original character #steven conklin x reader #taylor swift #steven conklin x original character #the summer i turned pretty show #the summer i turned pretty x reader #cam cameron #belly conklin x cameron

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milesmillergf · 1 year

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😮‍💨 i…just think that some of you could really benefit from reading and listening to writer/director, laurel parmet, actually talk about her film: https://www.indiewire.com/video/the-starling-girl-sundance-cringe-at-sexual-shame-1234802959 (even lewis’ few cents is a really great addition for anyone needlessly concerned with him for “taking such a role”…)

there are plenty more AV and written interviews about the film but i feel like a lot of people just aren’t using any kind of critical thinking skills or their own personal judgement against FOMO fandom brainrot with regard to viewing this film and it’s…concerning? movies are made for a lot of reasons, and are capable to doing lot of things! sometimes that thing is to broadly entertain, and sometimes that thing is to tell a a very specific story. lewis is an actor and (despite the current social climate of celebrity and influencers) his job as an actor is to do both of those things: entertain AND properly portray a character to help tell a story. no matter the story. if you like his dark and dramatic roles: same (i’m not going to go into my personal views on acting, individual performance, or what i think makes a great movie)! if you like his press play type stuff: lessons in chemistry is apparently premiering on apple tv on march 1, 2023! catch-22 is on hulu! ask me about his short films, i’ll link you!

all that to unnecessarily say: this man has a job and it’s one you’re not always going to like. so please get better at learning to protect your peace. a woman had a personal story to tell and chose lewis and eliza to tell that story. nothing more. i’m not about to be needlessly subjected to some of you acting he’s on some daniel radcliffe “i was in a movie where i infiltrated a neo nazi group and yes i’m friends with racists it’s fine” or some tom pelphry “i spent time reading books about neo nazis for a role to play a ‘reformed’ neo nazi” or ben foster “i was in a movie about slavery and didn’t acknowledge a the black lead whilst filming so i could really ‘get into the role’” type shit. the subject matter of the film is concerning, obviously, but lewis portraying a role is not. if he disturbed you as owen taylor that’s not only the point but a testament to his incredible acting talent.

this movie and role are exactly what the notion of separating art and artist is about.

PROTECT YOUR PEACE,

💐

#the starling girl

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noonmutter · 8 months

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Breakdown

DWC August 2023 Day 1/2: Beginnings/Endings, Enchanted/Horror

"You know you'd be wonderful onstage!" "I would not." "You're doing that thing again, where you're modest for no reason." "I know fer a fact I would not, cuz ev'rytime I'm in front o' crowds, I 'ave a desp'rate need t' throw up."

---

"Just one teensy little whip routine." "Absolutely not." "I'd happily be your target so you're not alone and everything! Like the good, charitable elf I am!" "If y'wanna be whipped so bad I kin tie y' up in th' workshop in ten minutes." "Why are you so miserly with your myriad talents?" "Are we gonna actually test out some stuff t'day or not?"

---

"I heard someone humming in the shower…" "Don't." "It's almost like you do have a sense of melody in there somewhere!" "Tha' was a hallucination. You're hallucinatin'."

---

"I saw that." "Wot?" "That little flourish you just did on the backswing." "I did not flourish it--" "You do show off!"

---

"I know yer doin' it on purpose." "I'm sure I don't know what you could possibly be talking about. I'm over here doing my lashes." "Ev'ry single Tart I know 'as been tryna get me onstage at least once. Yer not special." "Well now you're just spreading falsehoods, but I'll forgive you this once."

---

"You know, I couldn't help but notice how insightful you were." "Hmn?" "In the gallery. Once you opened up, I thought it was going to be impossible to stop you speaking your mind, not that I'd ever want to!" "Well… y' did prod me. Kind of a lot." "And I'm very glad you took that prodding! It's always a treat to listen to you dive deep into that lyrical well of yours." "Um…" "Almost like you're absolutely brimful of creativity, just waiting for an excuse." "… Celedyn." "Or perhaps the right audience?" "Ohhh my godddd--"

---

"You even do it at your booth sometimes! Especially the big ones, you were doing it constantly at the Tournament of Ages!" "I am not an actor!" "Then what would you call that whole absurd persona you were putting on for your… shoe… thing?" "It was a bit!" "Leon, sweetheart, darling. Actors do bits. That's acting. You acted." "I was 'avin' fun!" "Acting can be fun." "DAGH!!"

---

"So you've gone and enriched yourself for another year or two. What's next?" "Not sure. I was thinkin' maybe it's time t' start lookin' fer a proper shop. Y'know, like a storefront?" "What, no other big events to work yourself into a stupor over? I'm shocked." "Nah. I think I wanna see wot restin' on my laurels feels like, yeah? We kin uh… kinda afford to, heh." "Marvelous! See, it just so happens that this year is a very important year for the Tarts--" "Are you kiddin' me--" "But it's our anniversary, kitten! You're a friend of the troupe, don't you think you could just--" "Y'know wot? Fine. Fine." "--one little--wait, what?" "Once, an' only once, if it'll make you stop, I will do a thin' onstage. Once." "Oh, Leon, fantastic! I've got so many--" "But." "Mmn?" "I get t' pick th' song." "Oh, well." Celedyn gave an exaggeratedly put-upon sigh, undercutting what little sincerity it had with the big shit-eating grin on his face. "I suppose I can make one little sacrifice for you, kitten." "Mm-hmm. I'll let y' know."

A week later, Celedyn received a letter with the Catty Crow seal on it. He was all smiles when he opened it, finding a few written pages and a recording crystal labelled 'play me.'

Ten minutes after that, he was leaving hysterical, shrieking messages on Leon's commstone. Leon chose not to answer, instead putting up his feet and watching the device dance across the coffee table while he drank his tea.

( @celedyn @daily-writing-challenge )

#my writing #dwc #leon #celedyn #I make NO promises #but who knows #maybe #someday #when I've strangled my anxiety and dumped it in a lake

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catharrison · 3 months

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Estamos vivos,

quién lo duda,

el laurel, el ave, el agua

y yo,

que miro y tengo sed.

Blanca Varela. “Alba.” Luz del día, 1963.

#blanca varela

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la-semillera · 7 days

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HELENA ALMEIDA & REBECCA SOLNIT

Al menos los libros sí me pertenecían. Cerrado un libro es un rectángulo, fino como una carta o grueso y compacto como una caja o un ladrillo. Abierto está formado por dos arcos de papel y, visto desde arriba o desde abajo si está de par en par, recuerda la amplia V de los pájaros en vuelo. Pienso en estoy, a continuación, en las mujeres que se convierten en aves, y luego en la Filomela de la mitología griega,, que, tras ser violada, se transforma en ruiseñor cuando su cuñado la persigue para darle muerte. (...)

Había leído mucho antes las Metamorfosis de Ovidio, con la historia de Filomela y la de otras mortales, diosas y ninfas devastadas. En los mitos, las mujeres no paran de convertirse en otras cosas, ya que ser mujer resulta demasiado difícil, demasiado peligroso. Dafne se transforma en laurel cuando huye de Apolo, dato que yo sabía incluso ntes de memorizar <<El jardín>>, de Andrew Marvell, que incluye los siguientes versos:

Los dioses, que andan tras belleza humana,

siempre acaban rendidos ante un árbol.

Me lo había aprendido en el mismo curso introductorio en que leímos <<Leda y el cisne>>, de Yeats, poema en el cual, ahora me doy cuenta, se ofrecen detalles escalofriantemente explícitos de la violación de una mujer por un dios en forma de ave. <<¡Cómo podrá , aterrada, librar los flojos muslos/ de las gloriosas plumas, con dedos imprecisos?>> Jamás se mencionó que numerosos mitos griegos tratan de violaciones y mujeres que intentan escapar. No creo que fuéramos demasiado delicadas para que expusiera a eso que estaba en todas partes, tanto en las canciones pop, como en los sonetos y en los clásicos, pero resulta extraño que la realidad de la violación, su ubicuidad y su impacto no se expresaran ni en el arte ni en la vida. También a nosotras nos habían cortado la lengua.

_ Rebecca Solnit, Recuerdos de mi inexistencia, Lumen, 2021. Traducción: Antonia Martín.

#rebecca solnit #helena almeida

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oldshowbiz · 1 year

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Hollywood Hills Neighborhoods

#hollywood #trousdale estates #laurel ave

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ltwharfy · 2 months

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"Bob's Burgers" Season 7 Episode Ranking Rewatch (Long Post)

So, I've been rewatching "Bob's Burgers" from the beginning and ranking the episodes using the spreadsheet that @babsvibes created! If you want to know why I'm doing this or how I view the 1-5 rating scale, you can check out my Season 1 post! If you want to check out any of the other seasons, I've been using the "bob's burgers episode ranking rewatch" tag for all of them.

Now, on to Season 7:

Average (Mean) Score: 4.64

Mode (Most Common) Ranking: 5

Ranking Breakdown: 15 5s 6 4s 1 3

Season as whole thoughts:

Our new first place season (and I think it's kind of unlikely to be topped!) Unlike with Season 4, where I was kind of surprised by how high its average scored ended up being, Season 7 is one that I knew going in had several of my favorite episodes. I remember several years ago, the AV Club had a Q and A asking "What's the strongest 3 episode run of a TV show"? My immediate thought when seeing that : "Bob's Burgers" when they did "Ex Mach Tina" followed by "Bob Actually" followed by "There's No Business Like Mr. Business Business".

"Bob Actually" is a strongest contender for my favorite episode, and when I think of the reasons why (which do, in fact, go beyond "Roudise Kiss!!!!!!!"), I think they kind of encapsulate the strengths of this season. I think "Bob Actually" is a perfect combination of being really funny (everything Flips Whitefudge says; Ms. LaBonz stealing from the school; heck, even Mr. Blevins gets a funny line!), being really creative (giving each of the Belchers their own storylines rather than just an A and B story), and being emotionally satisfying (obviously, this kind of depends on how fond you are of Tinimmy and Roudise and Boblin.)

And I feel like a lot of the episodes of this season have that perfect combination of humor, emotion, and creativity- "Large Brother, Where Fart Thou?" sees the hilarity of Bob and Linda getting high with their account, the innovation of Tina having a storyline where she doesn't interact with any of the other Belchers, and the emotion of Gene being a protective big brother to Louise. "Last Gingerbread House on the Left" features a gunfight at a gingerbread house competition (hilarious!), that uses beautiful slow motion and closeups (creative!), and results in Bob actually winning something for once and giving a great Christmas present to his kids- and Mr. Fischoeder and his weird rich friends (awwwww!)

Obviously, I think the show was great in its previous seasons, but in my book Season 7 is just amazing- a show at the top of its game and not content to rest on its laurels!

Some thoughts on specific episodes (and feel free to ask if you want my thoughts on an episode I didn't comment on):

"Flu-ouise": I loved learning a little bit more about Kuchi Kopi and Louise's other toys! I will always crack up when Teddy says "Mumaluma!" One of my favorite end credits sequences- I love Louise's exuberant dancing and the song- "but the sickness made you better, and I'm glad you didn't diiiiiiiiie!"

"Teen-a Witch": I hope before the show ends we get to see Mr. Ambrose riding his bike to school with a little dog in the front basket.

"The Quirkducers": Along with "The Hormone-iums" this was the other episode that convinced me I should do a rewatch before doing the spreadsheet. One of the cable channels was doing a marathon of the Thanksgiving episodes and I remember feeling kind of meh when this came up- I knew it wasn't one of my favorites. Or I THOUGHT I knew! This is a wonderful episode! There is a good chance I will tear up when Tina starts singing about how "it takes guts to be yourself!" And the Grandpa Potato is hilarious! And Peter Pescadero's women's issues club song is further proof that he is THE great underrated character of the show.

"Ex Mach Tina": So, we can all just agree that Jimmy Jr's musoems are some of the funniest writing on the show, right? And that "Watching You From a Distant Place" is one of the best songs? The way all three of the plots- Tina and J-Ju and the robot, Louise and Gene and Yuli and the robot, and Bob and the banjo- come together at the end is brilliant and beautiful! Tammy and Joceyln's "A.I"-"as if" conversation, followed by Zeke's "you guys are making me feel smart" is possibly my favorite moment for those characters. This episode is really pretty perfect.

"Bob Actually": So, you may not know this about me, because I tend to keep this close to my chest but I'm actually a pretty big fan of Louise and Rudy's relationship. Shocking, right? And I've basically been shipping them since the end of "Carpe Museum", a fact which I have never disclosed before (certainly not in my Season 3 rewatch post). And then they have a Valentine's Day story that ends with them kissing, and I really like that episode. Okay, I probably dropped a lot of surprising info on y'all there so I understand if you need to take a break before reading the rest of this.

"There's No Business Like Mr. Business Business": John Oliver! Gene and Tina eating cat food! Bob training a cat! Bob accepting Gayle for who she is! Mr. Business getting ALMOST as much screentime as he deserves! This is an amazing episode, and I stand by my 2019 opinion that this the two previous episodes are the best 3 episodes run in TV history (okay, well, one of them anyway. I haven't watched all the TV shows! And how would I even know how good their episodes are if Babs doesn't make a spreadsheet for them?!)

"A Few 'Gurt Men": I was surprised how much I enjoyed this one! I'm a lawyer, and a pretty burnt out one at that, so I tend to not enjoy legal shows or movies any more- even comedy ones. But my love of the Wagstaff students and staff trumped by legal burnout and I really enjoyed this episode! Also, I love the episodes that show that Louise and Mr. Frond really respect and care for each other. (That said, I absolutely am not one of those people who sees this episode and thinks Louise will grow up to be a lawyer! She wouldn't last more than a semester at law school. No matter how mature she gets, Louise will never suffer fools gladly, and that's a kind of necessary trait to get through law school- let alone be a practicing lawyer.)

"Like Gene for Chocolate": Meh. Even Michael Jordan didn't make all his shots.

"Aquaticism": I think this is one of the most romantic episodes of "Bob's Burgers"- even more romantic than some of the Valentine's Day episodes. I may love Boblin and Roudise, but honestly it's Roger and Judy that are my real relationship goals at the present moment. Just some kind of sweet, kind of awkward middle aged people finding love...or, at least, a date Awwww. (Also, to again point out the combination of emotion and humor in this season: this is also an episode where the kids convince an aquarium owner to commit tax fraud by creating a religion and it results in an IRS agent jumping in a jellyfish tank...)

"Ain't Miss Debatin'": I love Henry Haber. I wrote a fic about him named after a line of dialogue from this episode. The scene where he goes to pick up Tina for their date and makes small talk with Bob, Gene, and Louise is one of my all-time favorites. Also, the introduction of Duncan, a character who basically makes me laugh with every single line. "Rebuttal? Where I'm from we call it buttle-rubbies."

"The Laser-inth": Maybe the sleeper hit of this season. I remember thinking it was okay going in, but it just really moved me this time around. Bob is just such a great Dad in this episode! It might be my favorite Bob and Gene episode. And the subplot is great too! I love Louise and Gretchen's dynamic: "Pretend you're a little girl." "Pssh. I'll try."

"Mom, Lies, and Videotape": So, I feel like I may have been even more obnoxiously Roudise shippy than usual in this post given that this is the season of "Bob Actually", so if that's bothered any of you, I am sorry, and I advise you skip this comment. Okay, so, this is the first speaking appearance by Chloe or Rudy since "Bob Actually". And Louise makes up a story where they are in a class play that culminates in: 1. Her shooting Chloe with a rubber band and 2. Rudy holding her tenderly in his arms in front of everyone in the auditorium (yeah, I know she's playing his mom and she's dying BUT STILL!) She could've come up with any idea and put any of her classmates in any of the roles, and that's the story she tells...

"Paraders of the Lost Float": Some episodes I know how I am going to rate them pretty early on, others I don't really know til the end. This episode just has a such a beautiful feelgood ending that it moved it from a 4 to a 5. Really, I think it's probably one of the most feelgood endings of any episode of the show. It just makes me so happy! "Hot pants rain dance! Da-da doo-doo rain, I don't know the words!"

Random thoughts (stuff that doesn't affect the ratings):

-So I kind of stopped mentioning first appearances by characters after either Rudy in Season 3 or Felix in Season 4, but it's kind of remarkable how many characters joined this season or later. It's hard to imagine we went over six seasons without having Chloe in Ms. LaBonz's class (and Arnold and Kaylee still aren't there)!

-It's too bad I'm an old person who's more comfortable writing a bunch of words than just making memes, because I feel like this all could've been covered much more succinctly with that "Seinfeld" meme: "You're crying from 'Bob's Burgers' Season 7?"

#bob's burgers #bob's burgers season 7 #bob's burgers episode ranking rewatch #long post

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moniquill · 2 years

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Please take a second to send an email

Hi friends! The Seaconke Wampanoag tribe is on a mission to be recognized by the state of Rhode Island. I’m asking all of my friends and famly living in Rhode Island - both indigenous and not - to take a moment out of your day to send an email to your local representatives and especially to house speaker K. Joseph Shekarchi ([email protected]) and Governor Dan McKee ( https://governor.ri.gov/contact )

Please let them know that you, as a Rhode Island resident (taxpayer, homeowner, etc) that you stand in support of Bills 7470 and 7471.

Claire Richards, who is against it, will ask the Governor not to pass these bills. She has been against Native Americans for years, continuously pitting native against native. This bill can still pass with 2/3 votes if Shekarchi and the Governor do the right thing. Please take a moment to help us out by sending an email.

To find more information on these bills please click here

https://legiscan.com/RI/bill/H7470/2022

https://legiscan.com/RI/text/H7471/2022

Here’s a list of RI representatives:

House District

City/Town Represented

Name

Party Affiliation

Suggested Post Office Address

E-mail Address

Providence

Representative Edith H. Ajello

Democrat

29 Benefit Street, Providence, RI 02904

[email protected]

Providence

Representative Christopher R. Blazejewski

Democrat

State House, Room 323 Providence, RI 02903

[email protected]

Providence

Representative Nathan W. Biah

Democrat

120 Metcalf Street, Providence RI 02904

[email protected]

Providence

Representative Rebecca M. Kislak

Democrat

P.O. Box 41551, Providence 02940

[email protected]

Providence

Representative Marcia Ranglin-Vassell

Democrat

32 Waite Street Providence, RI 02908

[email protected]

North Providence, Providence

Representative Raymond A. Hull

Democrat

616 Mount Pleasant Avenue, Providence, RI 02908

[email protected]

Providence

Representative David Morales

Democrat

16 Academy Avenue, Providence RI 02908

[email protected]

Providence

Representative John J. Lombardi

Democrat

48 Grove Street, Providence, RI 02909

[email protected]

Providence

Representative Anastasia P. Williams

Democrat

32 Hammond Street, Providence, RI 02909

[email protected]

Providence

Representative Scott A. Slater

Democrat

74 Sawyer Street, Providence, RI 02907

[email protected]

Providence

Representative Grace Diaz

Democrat

45 Adelaide Avenue, Providence, RI 02907

[email protected]

Providence

Representative Jose F. Batista

Democrat

205 Massachusetts Avenue, Providence RI 02905

[email protected]

Johnston, Providence

Representative Ramon A. Perez

Democrat

42 Ophelia Street, Providence RI 02909

[email protected]

Cranston, Provicence

Representative Charlene M. Lima

Democrat

455 Laurel Hill Avenue, Cranston, RI 02920

[email protected]

Cranston

Representative Barbara Ann Fenton-Fung

Republican

PO Box8542, Cranston RI 02920

[email protected]

Cranston

Representative Brandon C. Potter

Democrat

62 Grove Avenue, Cranston RI 02910

[email protected]

Cranston

Representative Jacquelyn M. Baginski

Democrat

119 Brettonwoods Drive, Cranston RI 02920

[email protected]

Cranston

Representative Arthur Handy

Democrat

26 Welfare Avenue, Cranston, RI 02910

[email protected]

Cranston, Warwick

Representative Joseph M. McNamara

Democrat

23 Howie Avenue, Warwick, RI 02888

[email protected]

Warwick

Representative David A. Bennett

Democrat

27 Shippee Avenue, Warwick, RI 02886

[email protected]

Warwick

Representative Camille F.J Vella-Wilkinson

Democrat

786 Church Ave. Warwick, RI 02889

[email protected]

Warwick

Representative Joseph J. Solomon, Jr.

Democrat

54 Hess Avenue Warwick, RI 02889

[email protected]

Warwick

Representative K. Joseph Shekarchi

Democrat

State House, Room 323 Providence, RI 02903

[email protected]

Warwick

Representative Evan P. Shanley

Democrat

190 Viceroy Road Warwick, RI 02886

[email protected]

Coventry, West Warwick

Representative Thomas E. Noret

Democrat

225 Fairview Avenue, Coventry, RI 02816

[email protected]

West Warwick, Coventry, Warwick

Representative Patricia L. Morgan

Republican

411 Wakefield Street, West Warwick RI 02893

[email protected]

Coventry, Warwick, West Warwick

Representative Patricia A. Serpa

Democrat

194 Kimberly Lane, West Warwick, RI 02893

[email protected]

Coventry

Representative George A Nardone

Republican

50 Fieldstone Drive, Coventry, RI 02816

[email protected]

Coventry, West Greenwich

Representative Sherry Roberts

Republican

22 Seminole Trail, West Greenwich, RI 02817

[email protected]

East Greenwich, West Greenwich

Representative Justine A. Caldwell

Democrat

8 Aurora Road, East Greenwich, RI 02818

[email protected]

Exeter, North Kingstown

Representative Julie A. Casimiro

Democrat

329 Wickham Road North Kingstown, RI 02852

[email protected]

North Kingstown

Representative Robert E. Craven, Sr.

Democrat

25 Highland Road, Saunderstown, RI 02874

[email protected]

Narragansett, South Kingstown

Representative Carol Hagan McEntee

Democrat

70B Broad Rock Road, South Kingstown, RI 02879

[email protected]

Narragansett, South Kingstown

Representative Teresa Ann Tanzi

Democrat

PO Box 5134, Wakefield RI 02880

[email protected]

South Kingstown

Representative Kathleen A. Fogarty

Democrat

50 Woodmark Way, Wakefield, RI 02879

[email protected]

Charlestown, New Shoreham, South Kingstown, Westerly

Representative Blake A. Filippi

Republican

P.O. Box 298, New Shoreham, RI 02807

[email protected]

Westerly

Representative Samuel A. Azzinaro

Democrat

20 Piezzo Drive, Westerly, RI 02891

[email protected]

Hopkinton, Westerly

Representative Brian Patrick Kennedy

Democrat

P.O. Box 1001, Ashaway, RI 02804-0018

[email protected]

Charlestown, Exeter, Richmond

Representative Justin Price

Republican

214 Shannock Village Road, Richmond, RI 02875

[email protected]

Coventry, Foster, Glocester

Representative Michael W. Chippendale

Republican

124 A Johnson Road, Foster, RI 02825

[email protected]

Cranston, Scituate

Representative Robert J. Quattrocchi

Republican

228 Old Plainfield Pike Scituate, RI 02825

[email protected]

Cranston, Johnston

Representative Edward T. Cardillo, Jr.

Democrat

6 DiFazio Drive, Johnston RI 02919

[email protected]

Johnston

Representative Deborah A. Fellela

Democrat

3 Diaz Street, Johnston, RI 02919

[email protected]

Johnston, Lincoln, Smithfield

Representative Gregory J. Costantino

Democrat

21 Greenwood Lane, Lincoln, RI 02865

[email protected]

Cumberland, Lincoln

Representative Mia A. Ackerman

Democrat

6 Shelter Lane, Cumberland, RI 02864

[email protected]

Lincoln, Pawtucket

Representative Mary Ann Shallcross Smith

Democrat

6 Twin River Road, Lincoln RI 02865

[email protected]

Burrillville, Glocester

Representative David J. Place

Republican

167 Jefferson Boulevard, Harrisville, RI 02830

[email protected]

Burrillville, North Smithfield

Representative Brian C. Newberry

Republican

53 Follett Street, North Smithfield, RI 02896

[email protected]

Woonsocket

Representative Steven J. Lima

Democrat

151 Singleton Street, Woonsocket RI 02895

[email protected]

Woonsocket

Representative Stephen M. Casey

Democrat

625 Park Aveneue 2F, Woonsocket, RI 02985

94 notes · View notes

mistons · 11 months

Photo

Miami Beach

Snowden Estate, 1923, looking north from 44th St & Collins Ave. Harvey S. Firestone's Harbel Villa Estate, 1930s. Fontainebleau Hotel construction, 1954. Firestone estate was used as a construction office.

Miami History / SMU Libraries / Miami Archives / Gottscho-Schleisner collection, LOC

Fontainebleau architect Morris Lapidus: In his day, critics reviled the excesses of Lapidus’ designs, calling his architecture “the nation’s grossest national product,” “pornography of architecture,” and “boarding house baroque” ... There was a “Staircase to Nowhere” so women dressed in couture and jewels could take an elevator to the top to deposit their coats and glamorously descend the stairs to the lobby. - Fontainebleau Hotel, A Colorful History

Steve Wynn:

In 1954 a guy named Ben Novack and his brother Joe Novack, who had experience in the Catskills at a hotel called Laurel, and in Miami Beach at the Sans Souci Hotel - sort of like Las Vegas with bunch of hotels lined up one next to the other on Collins Avenue - got an option on the Firestone estate at 41st St. on Collins Ave., a big 15-acre oceanfront piece that was owned by the famous family that made tires.

Ben Novack and Joe Novack conceived with an architect named Morris Lapidus of a hotel called Fontainebleau. This place was going to be a new idea. The hotel itself was going to be a series of experiential moments that included formal French gardens, sort of a Jewish version of Versailles; a gorgeous, soaring, high ceiling lobby; a lot of curvilinear spaces and curved stairways; murals on the wall of 18th century France; a fabulous showroom; a shopping arcade below; beyond the garden an expansive Cabana and pool club; a beautiful spa; and a curved building with blue glass. The Fontainebleau was going to set a new standard of destination resorts on planet Earth. It was so breakaway, so profoundly new it didn't even add a name on it. No sign, just the building.

It opened in 1954 and it changed everything people came from France, Italy, Germany, Mexico, Venezuela, Argentina, and Brazil. Between Christmas and Easter you had to know somebody to get a room. Everybody from Frank Sinatra and Johnny Mathis worked there. It was the coolest place to be in America during high season. The Fontainebleau dwarfed in scale and imagination anything that had ever been done anywhere in Europe or America, and it was received that way.

Jay Sarno was a character from Atlanta. He saw the Fontainebleau. He saw that this place was in the literary sense romantic, better than the outside world. It was a universe utopia within itself. Sarno never got over it

I was going to school at the University of Pennsylvania. My folks had Cabana 364 on an annual basis. I’d come there at Christmastime, and I never got over it. To me it seemed like the greatest thing in the world is to create a place that would transport people that way.

#Vintage Miami #Morris Lapidus

7 notes · View notes

lupismaris · 1 year

Text

The Opening Act of Spring- a Black Sails Fic. Chapter 3

The Ranger’s have a castle above the clouds, the delta bayou’s favorite undead son hasn’t changed much despite appearances, and we meet the patriarch of The Walrus- one of the beloved queer bars in west Brooklyn- Hal Gates.

The condo The Rangers shared on West End ave was high up in a shiny new building, overlooking the Hudson river and the west skyline of Manhattan. Silver wasn’t surprised that his sister had opted for a sleek home with floor to ceiling windows and polished wood floors, she had always day dreamed about a place above the clouds, untouchable like the men and women they conned for eating money. And now, as he and Anne stepped out of the private elevator, it seemed as if her dreams of that life, to a point, had come true. Of course the life time of suffering and blood that had gone into it could hardly been denied, but as with all things Max did, no one would know it. Grace and Elegance masked all, by careful design.

Silver whistled at the well lit space, kicking off his shoes at the door. Sunlight was starting to spill into the open concept living and dining room. The lime washed walls were decorated with elegant pieces of art, contemporary and colorful to contrast the neutral tones of the condo itself, the furniture mid-century modern with its rich honey toned wood and brass metal accents. House plants and vases of flowers, well loved and flourishing, were tucked into every sensible corner and open surface, bringing life into an otherwise sterile home, one that Silver would have expected to see in a high end magazine review.

“She’ll be in the studio, through there,” Anne said, nodding to a room past the kitchen. She handed over the bouquet of Irises. “Give these to her. I’m gonna make sure Chaz is up for work.”

“Sure, thanks, by the way-”

She waved it off and disappeared down the dim hallway.

“Right. Good talk.”

The studio had, as expected, the best lighting in the whole condo. It was a corner unit and the studio sat right at the corner, able to scrape together whatever sunlight available at whatever time of day. Silver had to guess that Max’s bedroom was graced with either the next best natural light, or the best light fixture money could buy to mimic it. The room was filled with various dress forms and metal figures, each draped in different fabrics that would, in time, become cocktail dresses and gowns. Two work benches were littered with supplies, pages of sketches and two sewing machines, boxes of sexing tools, pens and pencils and drafting tools, shelves covered in bolts of lush fabrics in jewel tones and soft neutrals. All that was what Silver expected to find, the heart and soul of his sister’s enterprise laid bare.

But over by the windows, where Max was seated, stood an easel and canvas, with several half finished canvases of varying sizes leaning against the glass awaiting their turn. A small table attended to Max’s right, carrying a tray of oil pastels and a cloth for her hands, a pair of chamois for blending, and her morning cappuccino long forgotten, its foam clinging to the sides of the porcelain bowl.

His sister had always wanted to take up the finer arts, or so she had told him, but their lives had never allowed them the time. Too much running, too many lies, too many masks, and whats more, gutter rats like them had more important things to worry about than the delicate curve of a shadow on the page or how to blend charcoal, didn’t they?

Silver stood there silently for a few moments, watching as Max blended the soft peach of sunlight into the clouds she was attempting to capture, the view from her window shifting ever so slightly so that her canvas was a perfect dream of the Morning sky. Her dark curls, coiled more tightly than his own, were tied up high on her head with a silk scarf, the rich green and gold of it reminding Silver of laurels, a perfect contrast to her darker skin.

Of them all, Max’s laurels were most deserved.

“No one likes a ghost in the doorway, mon cher,” she said over her shoulder, taking up a robin’s egg blue pastel.

“I’d disagree but I’d hate to ruin so lovely a morning-”

Her laughter was as sharp as a jaybird’s call, joyful and just a little mocking. “Oh you’re exhausting. Come on then, you’re already half an hour late as it is you cad.”

Silver felt himself smile, his first honest smile since landing at JFK, and let himself enter the room properly. Max set down her pastels and wiped her hands, twisting on the stool to face him. Her lounge set, knit leggings and loose tank top of bone white, looked soft and well loved. She wore no make up, the only colour on her cheeks the stray smear of blue pastel along her cheek bone from a misplaced finger, and the only jewelry Silver could see was the delicate gold bracelet he had given her years before after their first big score.

And a simple gold diamond ring on her left ring finger.

“Well now when did that happen?” Silver asked with some astonishment. He’d expected a phone call if not a photo if Anne had finally popped the question after years and years of domestic bliss.

“It hasn’t, it’s a place holder,” Max said, though the soft blush in her cheeks meant it still meant the world. “She grew tired of people presuming things, had me pick out something classic until we could custom order something better. You know I wouldn’t choose a diamond for the final product.”

“No you had always been partial to pearls or emeralds, I remember that.” Silver kissed her temple and passed over the irises. “These are from her by the way.”

“Thought as much, you never bring me flowers.”

“No I bring you shiny things worth stupid amounts of money and leave the romantic gestures to your beau.”

Max rolled her eyes and got up to find a vase for the flowers, leaving Silver to poke around the studio like a curious stray cat. “I imagine those gifts are still at your hotel, since you look like shit and Anne said she found you drunk in a bathtub this morning?”

“Mmm it wasn’t my best wake up call I’ll give her that.”

“You don’t drink, mon Cher, I take it Jack’s plan didn’t go as well as he hoped?”

It was a question, but Silver felt the rhetorical tone even with his back turned.

“Did you suggest it to him or did he think it up all on his own like a big kid?”

“Now now don’t be too cross, it could have been worse.”

“How exactly? With Flint gutting me in public? Strangling me in an elevator? Tossing me off a balcony? Or do you have a more romantic kind of murder in mind?” Silver asked dryly, dropping onto the vintage loveseat by the windows.

Max set the vase of Irises on the closest work station and turned to face him with a sigh. “Are you finished feeling sorry for yourself? Or would you like to wallow in self pity for a few more minutes?”

“Few more couldn’t hurt.”

“You’ve had more than enough time I think and I don’t want to hear it.”

Silver pushed his sunglasses up onto his hair and blinked and the sun filled room. “As you wish. I’m just saying it was a dick move. And I’m a little surprised at you, shacking up with Flint after all this. When you were the one who knew before we all did that it was worth it in the end.”

Max crossed her arms and leaned back against the workstation, taking in Silver’s haggard face, bloodshot and shadowed eyes. “More than just a drink then hm?”

“Oh I’m sorry if it was Ellie would you have done better?”

It was cruel and he knew it. His sister’s eyes hardened for a moment as she considered him.

“Yes. Because I did the work you haven’t.”

Silver sighed and turned his gaze to the window.

“I don’t owe you an explanation,” she said after a moment, “You abandoned us. You had the opportunity to stay and have a real chance at something better and you walked away, so what I choose to do in my business ventures is none of your concern, Silver. You gave up that right.”

“Then why ask me here?”

“You abandoning us does not mean we have chosen to abandon you.”

It took effort not to look up as she crossed the room, coming to sit on the love seat next to him.

“Even if you’d rather we did,” She added.

“That- that’s not-” He sighed, turning to her and shaking his head. “I don’t wish that, you know I don’t.”

Max smiled at him and reached up to tuck a few stray curls behind his ear. She said nothing, just let his empty lie hang lifeless in the space between them for a moment, before asking about his flight in from Istanbul.

He had never been able to lie to her, and she had never been able to lie to him, not in any way that had mattered. Little white lies and surprise parties were possible, sure, but when it mattered? Eventually it would unravel, the fibers fraying and thinning as they tried to spin them, faster and faster until they were left empty handed and shamefaced. The only lie that stood was, in a sense, a shared truth- that neither of them had existed before their meeting, that their lives had begun the moment they had met in the back room of a dusty and dirty whore house in some city they pretended to forget the name of. Before that there had been nothing. That was the only lie they would permit.

And maybe it was better that way. Maybe it was better that Max knew Silver was lying when he said he didn’t want to be forgotten, abandoned to his self made misery while she and her lovers built new beautiful lives for themselves in castles on clouds. Because otherwise he’d have to admit it out loud, admit that he wanted to play the martyr and be left to the consequences of his mistakes.

That he didn’t think he deserved a second chance.

Some people didn’t deserve to be saved, right? Didn’t deserve to prove themselves bettered? Maybe, just maybe, he was one of them and the best thing he could do was let that be the case. Especially if it meant he didn’t have to acknowledge that he had in fact made the mistakes in the first place.

But he’d never win that argument with Max, not if she had it in her head that, for whatever reason, he was meant to be a part of their bizarre new lives.

Did he resent her, and the others, a little, for said beautiful new life? Despite it being everything they had bled for all those years? Yes.

Did it make sense? No not even remotely.

He found himself chewing over the thought all afternoon as they had an early lunch, the other Rangers joining them in the dining room. Rackham tried to be a gentleman and offer Silver his one punch to the stomach over drinks-gone-ary, but Silver refused him with a tired laugh.

“Let’s keep a running tally for now,” he said, letting Rackham pull him into a hug. “I’m sure you’ll earn another soon enough. Besides, I think both of us have had our nerves shaken enough over the last twenty four hours-”

Rackham laughed and kissed his cheek as he let him go. “Haven’t we just. There is nothing quite as terrifying as that man stalking you across a room. I thought I’d forgotten that fear but no, no, it has been thoroughly reintroduced to my nightmares after yesterday.”

It had never left Silver’s dreams, the way it felt to have Flint watch him from across the room, move with him, appear suddenly at his side like a phantom.

“You try bein’ in a fuckin kitchen wit’m,” Vane said over his shoulder, his rumbling voice raised slightly to be heard over the rhythmic thud of the knife against the cutting board. “One moment you’re alone gettin’ mise set no body but christ to talk to n’the next he’s there raining hellfire down. If he didn’t announce himself he’d get gutted for scaring a man.”

Rackham sat at the breakfast bar so he could watch Vane cook, “That’s a trait you share darling.”

“Doesn’t mean I gotta like it on him now do I?” Vane asked, feeding Rackham a slice of radish with salted butter.

Silver fought the urge to roll his eyes. They’d become bizarrely domestic and exhausting in their retirement, Rackham smitten in his expensive lounge wear and Vane wearing an apron with his name embroidered on it, putting the finishing touches on a cheese board and salad while the spanakopita finished baking.

It would have been gross, in the way it was for you to see your best friend mack on their new beaus. That is, if Silver wasn’t ultimately struggling with the concept of Vane as a kept house husband who fixed lunch for his roommates and only had a job to keep him out of trouble and wore, of all things, embroidered aprons.

Silver could distinctly remember the day he learned that Vane had removed another man’s head for pissing him off, after all. He had seen the aftermath alongside Max, her ex and the rest of the Guthrie smugglers. It wasn’t something you easily forgot.

Rackham had done the truly impossible. He’d take the wild thing and domesticated it, just enough to fool to world into thinking it had always been so. Silver made a note to never question his capacity for sex, romance, or sheer power of will ever again.

If nothing else, the embroidered apron was going to take a lot of getting used to.

He said as much later that afternoon, relishing the loud burst of laughter that rang out in reply.

“If Jackie hadn’a spent two days makin’ the damn thing-” Vane shook his head, his long hair tossing as he did. “Shoo ain’t catchin me wearin’ another that’s for damn sure. Jackie made it, understand?”

Another park, this time across the bridge, with a stunning view of the river, the sparkling glass and metal skyline of Gotham across the way. Silver had followed Vane to Brooklyn once lunch had finished, Max and Rackham off to a busy afternoon of fittings and model interviews for the summer look book, Anne joining them as she often did. So Vane had found Silver a spare helmet and pulled his vintage Harley out of the private garage, slipping the valet a few bills on their way out of the back entrance in a way that felt very routine, and they made their way to Brooklyn, slicing through traffic.

Silver watched the various pedestrians pass them by, the two of them seated comfortably on an ornate promenade bench, Vane’s bike parked a few feet away on the curb. “Still, considering you used to pitch such a fit about things like that? I distinctly remember you giving Flint so much shit whenever he told you to wear a shirt. Or say please.”

Vane snorted, all sharp teeth as he smiled in amusement. “Mmm but it is fun fuckin with that old queen innit? He cared far too much about respectability when it didn’t right matter n’he knew it, but it made him feel better to scold about it anyhow. Sense of control when it was all falling apart.” He shrugged. “Just cause Jackie get’s me playing nice doesn’t mean I believe it. Just means I believe it enough for his sake, you know? Makes him happy, makes him smile, so I believe in it enough to bring bout that result and keep one foot toeing the line should Jackie forget they don’t play fair. Means, end.”

There was that all encompassing “They” again, alongside a shadow that Silver thought he recognized, of the man who’d burned off his own finger prints at 13, who never quite understood Flint’s need for decorum, but seemed perfectly at home with Silver’s deeply rooted fear of commitment.

“And the means of working for Flint?” he asked when Vane didn’t continue.

“Mmm.”

There was a pause then, as Vane watched the clouds slowly roll in over head. A small, ghost of a smile played on his lips, as if he’d remembered some little joke that Silver wasn’t party to.

“Why I get the feeling you been asking this question all day?” he asked in turn, rolling his head over to look at Silver. “It’s eatin’ you up real bad innit, us tolerating each other again?”

Silver looked away with a sigh. “It doesn’t make sense.”

“Shoo, does anything about any of this? Johnny we stole the world out from under those fuckers and what’d I get in turn?”

On the expressway below the promenade, a truck’s exhaust backfired. Smoke, the smell of burning oil filled the air for a moment as the clouds continued to shift over head, memories taking shape in the altered light as Vane continued.

He hadn’t been there, the day Charles Vane had died. It hadn’t been long after he’d lost his leg and despite a clean amputation and proper antibiotics, his lack of rest had lead to an infection. Silver had been laid up in a safe house for three weeks, during which Vane had been captured on a raid.

“A noose,” Vane continued, “A coffin. If it had gone any different, if a fucker had been a smidge less upset that afternoon-” he laughed again, a darker, older sound and dropped his head back to look up at the clouds. Silver could see clearly the scar the rope had left, resting where his adams apple should have been, faded slightly with the years but haunting them all the same.

In the small courtyard of Rogers’ largest factory town to fall, Charles Vane had been strung up like the animal the world had thought him to be. Silver had learned later that some small speech had been made, the warden being kind enough, or stupid enough, to give Vane parting words. Whatever was said had been the last bit of fuel for the fire. In the riot that followed, his body went missing.

Silver had never been brave enough to ask him how, whether it had been sheer dumb luck or all part of a grander plan. Something told him that Vane would just level him with that tired, oddly wise look, and just smile, before changing the subject entirely.

“You and Flint tried to kill each other. More than once,” Silver reminded him, trying to change the subject. “Couldn’t agree on anything-”

“Who says that’s changed?” Vane shrugged, getting to his feet and stretching his arms high above his head, cut sleeves of his work tshirt riding up to show the faint edge of old scars long the underside of his pecs. “Said it before, Say it again- ain’t no body making that queen into a trophy but me.”

“Yeah but-”

“’Sides, something healthy bout that if you askin me. We different men, sure, he may be soft, but only I know just how so. Certain kinda intimacy you only get with a man you decide to be the end of, one way or another. Wouldn’ you agree?” Vane’s smile was teasing as he pulled out a cigar from his bag and fished around for his lighter. Silver pulled out his and waved for him to lean in.

Vane did so and held still, lips pulling at the cigar while Sliver lit it, smoke curling around his tanned face. “Thats a kind of love ain’t nothin’ gonna replace. Not comfort, not peace, not gold. Not even sex.”

Their eyes met as Vane pulled back, Silver feeling pinned under a gaze not for the first time that day. It was all he could do to stare back at the gray eyes that shifted behind cigar smoke.

“You used to want comfort, now I think bout it,” he continued, “easy comfort even. Mmm. Now you lookin more like me every day, Johnny. It’s a lean look on you. Pity we never wanted to be the end of each other. Otherwise, I think we’ a been interestin, you and me. Guess I gotta leave that to the old queen.”

Vane patted Silver’s cheek when he didn’t reply and moved around the bench towards his bike. It was time to head to the bar and for Silver to disappear back to Manhattan. That was the safest thing to do.

“Vane.”

“Mm.”

“You’d tell me if he wasn’t retired.”

Vane straddled the bike and puffed at the cigar for a moment. Silver didn’t look back at him.

“If he was out of retirement, I’d be out of retirement. Game’s not fun without that fucker in it.”

That might have been the truest statement he’d heard in the last 24 hours. Silver sighed and nodded, letting his head hang and his body sag into the bench a bit. He listened as Vane kickstarted the old bike, the engine revving to life.

“Make sure ya get home before the sky opens. Don’ want them findin’ ya in the gutter-” came Vane’s shouted goodbye before the roar of the bike echoed away down the street and Silver was again left with the settled ambient sounds of the promenade and the dark clouds building overhead.

The patriarch of the Walrus sat in the alley when Vane’s bike pulled up, where he could almost always be found before the happy hour rush began, his heavy form settled comfortably into the old bar chair they kept propped up against the wall. Hal Gates looked up with an unimpressed look, tired eyes peering over the reading glasses that sat on the tip of his nose to read the now forgotten copy of the week’s Brooklyn Daily Eagle that sat on his knee.

“Bout fuckin’ time you got here,” he said flatly as he watched Vane park his bike with a laugh.

“Shoo I got five minutes n change, can’t fault me for that-” Vane paused to pull out his lighter, which had been in his front picket the whole time, and relight the cigar.

“You know damn well that’s not what I’m talking about you shit. You want to tell me whats got him in a fit this time?”

“Why should I know, boss?” Vane flashed him a sharp smile and climbed off the bike, grabbing his bag from the saddle box.

Gates sighed and pushed himself to his feet, tucking the newspaper under his arm. Vane had a couple inches on him sure, the cocksure attitude that drove some people to the edge, but Gates didn’t need to posture when he closed the space between them. Two steps across the alley and he hummed in tired amusement as Vane watched him expectantly.

“Because,” Gates said simply, reaching up to take the cigar out of Vane’s mouth, “He’s looking for you.”

With a sharp smile of his own, Gates helped himself to the cigar and returned to his chair. Before Vane could make his no doubt clever remark, or at least follow up on the cigar stealing, the back door to the kitchen flew open.

“Ah, there he is, on cue-” Gates murmured, puffing at the cigar and going back to his paper.

“Now wait a goddamn-” Vane tried to say, as Flint came out of the open door like a wolf from a cage, grabbing him by the front of his shirt. The momentum of his movement had them stumbling backwards, Vane pushing back against him, the two of them half wrestling on their feet.

“Where the fuck is he?” Flint snarled. “Where- So help me Vane I will break your fucking jaw where is he-”

“Fuck is that gonna do- break my jaw ya cunt how is that gonna-”

“I know you’re a part of this Rackham can’t keep shit to himself-”

“Hey what’d I say about ya goin’ for Jackie-”

“Jackie can go to hell unless you tell me where the fuck he is!”

Flint managed to get his ankle around Vane’s, getting him off balance enough to shove him back against the alley wall. He kept one hand in Vane’s shirt while the other closed around Vane’s throat, threatening but not so tight that he couldn’t get the words out.

“Tell me,” he repeated.

“Get fucked.”

“I will make you talk so fucking help me Vane-”

Vane smiled, all top teeth, and pressed into the hand at his throat. “How ya gonna do that hm?”

Flint didn’t move forward, the way Vane’s goading invited him to. He could feel the slightest pressure of Vane’s hand against his stomach, it acted as a warning. Sure enough when he glanced down, Vane’s trusty old butterfly knife was resting against his shirt, the same empty threat as Flint’s hand around his throat. Vane held his gaze with a lazy, hungry smile that called Flint’s bluff with the satisfied smugness of a card shark. Flint hated him in moments like that, hated him deeply. It would have been so easy to tighten his hand and squeeze, but only if it were anyone else. Vane knew just how to make good use of that butterfly knife.

“If you two are quite finished stroking each other off,” Gates said after a moment, “I have a bar to run and happy hour starts in twenty minutes.”

It took a moment, but with a snarl and a huff, Flint shoved Vane against the wall and stormed back inside without another word, leaving Gates puffing at his cigar and watching Vane toy with his butterfly knife.

“So you want me on bar or-” Vane asked.

“Oh no, he will be on bar. He needs to be on a tight leash tonight and I will be holding it, thank you. You keep your head down and behave yourself on the line please or I’m calling Jackie.” Gates folded his paper and stood again, pushing his reading glasses onto his head and gently stubbing out the cigar to save the rest for later. “Do I even want to know what this is all about?”

“Silver’s back in town.”

Gates blinked, then sighed with a decade’s worth of resignation. “My personal twink from hell. Fantastic.”

He stopped Vane just inside the kitchen. “Don’t tell the boys. Not yet, not with Flint so keyed up about it and all. We don’t need it to be a bigger mess that it clearly already is.”

“Shoo, alrigh’ boss.”

“Go on with you then. I’ve got a hell-hound to keep in line tonight.”

Vane’s laughter followed him through the kitchen. Said hell-hound was braced against the darkest corner of the bar, staring into a glass of dark rum.

“Are we talking about this?” Gates asked.

Flint glared at him from the corner of his eye and knocked back the rum. He poured himself another drink and put the bottle away.

“Alright then. You’re on bar with me and Muldoon-” Gates held up a hand as Flint made to argue. “No. I don’t care. This is how it is, am I clear?”

The alternative was, as it was for every member of staff (Gates included) going home for the evening. If Flint went home he’d spend the night driving himself insane or worse, wandering the city, tapping into contacts and allies, trying to eliminate all place where Silver couldn’t be. If he was at their bar he could at least stay tethered to something that felt like reality, at least for now.

“We can talk it over after close tonight,” Gates added softly, resting a hand on Flint’s back, “Figure out a plan if you like. But you know you can’t be in the kitchen with your head in the past.”

After a pause and a slow deep breath, a bit of tension eased out of Flint’s shoulders.

“Fine.”

Gates rubbed his back for a moment. He grabbed the rum bottle again and topped off Flint’s drink, before pouring himself a matching glass. The bar was mostly empty, one high top occupied by someone with a beer and a book, a booth hosting a late lunch date, one regular nursing his aviation at the end of the bar. They could take a moment just the two of them.

“We’ll figure it out, Jamie,” Gates told him, knocking the glasses together. Flint nodded weakly and said nothing, taking up his glass, tapping it gently against the bar top, and downing it with ease.

Across the street, watching the foot traffic and cars pass the brick street front of the Walrus with its custom neon sign and myriad pride flags catching the growing winds, sat a busker. He was a familiar sight on the block, playing his bass guitar under the scaffolded walkway to whatever audience would stop to listen. As the sky opened up and people hid under the scaffolding, his audience grew for a time.

Amongst them, a young man with a camera who was as interested in the bar across the way as he was in the busker’s performance. Silver had to admit he was grateful for the cover, between it and the storm, not a soul from The Walrus, patron or crew, noticed him.

Yes it was risky, even with one of his casual get ups on (you’d be surprised how often people ignored trucker caps and hoodies), and no it wasn’t like he thought Vane or the others were lying.

He just needed to see it for himself, needed to see Flint’s retirement happily ever after with his own eyes for it to seem real. Or so he had thought.

Seeing it in that moment, seeing Flint slip out front for a moment and stand under the awning to have a smoke, his attention fixed wholly on the storm clouds overhead-

It didn’t help. It just sent him running back to Manhattan with his metaphorical tail between his legs.

#my fic #opening act of spring bs mdau fic #black sails fic #black sails modern au #silverflint #silverflintham #john silver #max black sails #charles vane #hal gates #james flint #for anyone wondering Vane is Appalachian born but grew up in the mississippi delta and louisiana areas #i cannot put into words how much i love writing this fic and writing him and writing hal and writing flint HHHHH god #i love these men these ridiculous stupid men #Anne and Max are just lovely #i can't wait to reintroduce you all to everyone AUGH

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