#Anti Charlie Hunnam

[sydalelys01]

hahahaha this man for me exudes Maegor vibes, hahaha I don't even suggest that HBO drag him to make an adaptation of Maegor because they will end up destroying him leaving him as a repressed gay in love with his brother Aenys....(where have I already seen this story 🤔? ...ohh that's what they did to Daemon)... hahahahaha but well I just wanted to share it... HBO stay away from the Targaryens and stop monetizing with them... make shitty series with their characters non incestuous favorites....please if they have any decency leave them alone

[callsignvenomcod]

nobody's son, nobody's daughter

Young!Simon and his troubled life in Manchester with his equally fucked up best friend Y/N, loosely based on "Chemtrails over the Country Club" by Lana del Rey.

Trigger warning: Mentions of abuse, sexual abuse, drug addiction, physical abuse, violence.

Author's note: In my head, at least for this one shot, young Simon would look like Charlie Hunnam during his Green Street Holigans era. Maybe a tad bit taller. A headcannon of mine, I guess.

He tried to convince himself that he was only crying because of the stinging feeling of the alcohol against his broken skin, against the red cheek bone and the bleeding gash he had on top of his right eyebrow. The flickering greenish, puke-colored light that was dangling on top of his head didn't help much to the cure. That and the sad looking tiles of his bathroom, no toothpaste, broken mirror, whole look. Simon had to convince himself that this really was going to be the last time. He did a lousy job at that. The lad really drank that kool aid.

That next time he will hit harder, that next time he would be smarter, faster, wiser than Daddy. His heart and his lungs were still on fire from the fight he just had with his father; saliva dripping down his chin mixed with vice and blood, because if Simon was a big boy, well, he had to get it from someone. Petey Riley was a big son of a bitch, standing 6'5, belly outside of his wife beater (saddly, ironical) blonde patches of hair covering his baldening head, he drank like one, hit like one. No distinction too, Tommy would take it, his Mum would take it too. Simon just wanted to be present to take the biggest hit. He could bare it; he would do it. For those he loved he would sacrifice.

Some days it felt like he was the bull and his father was The Matador. A bloody number they both put on for his mum and his little brother but none of them were clapping. Simon was merely a distraction, one that showed his horns to drag attention.

It was an act of love. Some days it was all he could give, somedays it was all that there was left of him.

"For fucks sake..." he hissed dapping a pink colored, blood-stained cotton ball against his eyebrow split, the gash squeezing out anti septic and crying red down his face. He threw the cotton ball to the trash bin and let his head hang low on top of the sink, without looking in the mirror, before letting out a big, tired sigh.

18 years old and his live had already gone to shit. No compass pointing north, no aspirations, no home, and a family he felt pity for. A world that felt no pity for them, for him. Simon Riley was just another alley rat of Manchester, with lungs so black from the coal he might as well have been a miner.

The truth was that Tommy could no longer stay in the house like this, nor could his mother. Tommy was barely 12, an age in which his brain was so moldable it might as well be play doh; and Pete fucked everything around him; even carrots would rot if stood next to him too much time. He had to get Tommy away from the man before it was too late. Before he became like him.

There was a knock on the door, and he instantly knew it was his mother, because Tommy would just slip in due to the nature of being a younger brother, and his father would just storm inside, stumbling around to piss without caring someone was using the toilet; plus, his father had stormed out of the house with a loud door slam, making all the glasses in the house rattle. He looked at himself in the mirror while answering.

"Oi..." he acknowledges.

"..." only silence for a moment, before her mother cleared her throat from behind the door. "Here's more antiseptic, sun..." They all knew too much about first aids, he might as well become a doctor or join the army.

He almost smiled at use of the old nickname. Her sun, he called him. 18, looking 23, and his mum still called him sun.

Simon perked up in front of the mirror, his trashed simple white shirt, (now stained with yellow and few drops of blood) slipping back on himself as he took a deep breath and walked out of the toilet, straight into the hall.

His mother took a few steps back. It had been a while since Simon had outgrown her in height. The blonde woman, pale and frail stood in front of him and only could see the tip of his chin now. She was wearing acid washed jeans and a bright colored shirt with shapes in it very 80's, and they were so dirt poor it might as well be from the 80's. On top of that, an open bathroom robe and her hair was, in deed a mess.

Molly Riley, maiden name Harrison, winced out loud at the state of his son's face. Simon could tell she had been crying. "Oh, sun..." she moaned, quivering lower lip.

The woman looked up at his older son and gave him an apologetic smile, and Simon would be damned if he stood around to listen to her apologized for whatever reason it made his father snap this time. Simon shook his head, sadly used to this and placed a hand on the woman's shoulder, feeling her shiver under his touch.

"Where's Tommy?" he asked, walking over to his room with his mother following close on his step. He just wanted to slip on his jumper and get out of the house.

"He's at the TV room. Sooty and Co is on." She explained, leaning against the frame of the door, hugging herself. She watched with hazel eyes as his older son would sin on his bunk bed and slip on his white trainers, dusty and worn out, and zipped up a jumper that went just below his chin, putting on a jacket on top of it.

"Simon..."

"Mum..." they both said at the same time as they mirror each other. He knew what would happen the second he went outside the house. Tommy would drown himself in milk and cereal, being a vegetable in front of the TV until his eyeballs burned, and his mother would sit in the couch behind him, laughing at the show until she ran away to cry in her room, toying with the idea of picking of the things and leaving Pete. Nothing would happen and the wheel will keep turning. In a not so hopeful way of speech, they still had tomorrow. They had to take that as it sounded at the moment.

"Where are you going?" she asked, in an effort to seem motherly. The boy had seen her give up all her earthly power to the monster of his father and being in this same room with her suffocated him. He hated himself for it. Sometimes he had to really try not to hate her. He could never be quite there, but he was always dangerously close.

"Pub." He simply said, feeling up his pocket to make sure he had enough money to spend. He worked long shifts in the butcher's and weirdly enough, being surrounded by so much blood and carnage made him feel relaxed. Maybe it had to do with the fact it was him holding the knife and the pig hanging upside down, cutthroat. Simon wanted to tap out, get a flat for himself, even move cities, move damn planets, but couldn't bring himself to leave Tommy and his mother behind. They were all victims of the same natural disaster. "Don't stay up."

"Well, give her my regards..." she simply said with a soft smile.

They shared a knowing look, knowing that Molly would drop a pill in a few hours and won't be up until tomorrow morning; if lucky. She nodded, dropped eyes, and leaned against the frame to let Simon walk past her, the too loud sound of the TV in the room next door and distracted laughs of his younger brother making a soundtrack. Simon would look the back of his blonde hair before stepping out of the door and head out to the pub, much like his father did a few hours ago.

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Breathe in, breath out. Mechanical, your body could do it without your brain telling it to, but sometimes your brain got so anxious it forgot about it. Some people started calling them anxiety attacks. Doctors, mostly. Y/N wasn't a doctor, but instead just knew it made her feel like ripping out her hair one by one and crawl out of her skin.

The cigarettes helped. Michelle, her older sister told her it wasn't a very feminine look to smoke Marlboro reds the way she did, but with a prostitute mother and a junkie lizard for a step father, whatever effort they made to look good to society was futile now.

That and the multiple bruises they both sported on their bodies. Michelle had learned how to put makeup on them, Y/N couldn't bother anymore.

Michelle. Emerald eyes, long face, short hair. Smart Michelle, kind Michelle, 5 years older Michelle, in love Michelle, pregnant Michelle, crying face Michelle, "Come with us" Michelle, "Come to see me soon," Michelle. Two jobs and a new born Michelle, always a mother Michelle. Too busy for her Michelle.

Michelle, Michelle, Michelle. Ma belle.

She missed Michelle, and now and then she wished she just had picked up and left Manchester with her and John, take a train to America, to a place called Chicago. Scape this place like a crying Michelle had asked her to, but no. She had done too much: her older sister had already acted like a mother her whole life, and Y/N thought she deserved a chance at love. John was that. A chance at happiness. A warm pair of arms, a nice house. No unsolicited grabbing, to drugs, no shouting and no smacks. Y/N couldn't just storm into her life and wreck it all, be a reminder of the past Michelle barely survived.

She took a drag of her third cigarette and leaned against the back alley of the convenience store she worked in. Few hours, shitty pay, but it was a way to stay away from her house, with her mom asleep, drugged off her tits most of the day and working all the night, she no longer felt like it was a home; not that it ever did. It was a place where she had a thin mattress and some clothes and a place she would only want to use to sleep.

The girl hugged herself, her too big on her black coat almost swallowing her. Her shift was off, the old man owner of the store telling her to "fix herself" before coming back on Monday.

He meant the bruises. They all meant the bruises.

She had a gash on top of her eyebrow from running away from a blow from Ethan, Mum's husband, presumedly pimp. It took a lot of rage, but the bastard wouldn't touch her again, not a single hair on her head.

This was not the first time he did it. This was not the last time it would happen. Y/N knew it.

Her hands slipped down her face, chipped burgundy polish on her nails, and she ran her hand down her hair, stepping on her cigarette butt and placing her hands inside her pockets.

She could see her breath in front of her, and the news said that it might snow this year again. Man, her house could no longer hold another winter the way it was. It was cold and wet on the bottom floor, and she wouldn't dare step upstairs in fear of the risks of being in the same room as Ethan.

She thought that if it came down to it, she could always convince Simon to just gather some money and spend the season in a motel with heat. It was a luxury, but she didn't want to be an Ice Lolly.

She smiled to herself at the thought of him. She flicked open the fire and lit another cigarette, the cherry burning almost instantly as she blew the smoke out of her hair. The girl started walking out of the alley, with a bit of a hunched back to her step, something she learned from when she was a kid and tried to conceal the fact that she had grown tits now.

The boy was her best friend, if not he was her only friend, the only one she could trust. What started with an innocent childhood friendship, with both of them being at the headmaster's office almost daily (teachers would find Y/N stealing stickers and pennies out of other girl's school bags and had to physically break out fights Simon started) developed into a deep understanding of each other circumstances; into an everlasting love that held no labels.

Simon gave Y/N her first beer at 11 years old and smoke her first joint with her at 12. Y/N pierced Simon's ear lobe with a burnt-out safety pin drenched in vodka, and with time had more experience in curing his bruises than the local doctor. A match made in heaven, you could say. A refuge for both of them. They both did it for the right reasons.

It was freedom of not having to use a mask. Y/N could crumble to pieces in front of Simon, curse the Gods, curse fate, confess herself a human being because she knew her vulnerability was safe with him, that Simon wouldn't let the light in.

In a sick joke of destiny, they seemed made for each other. Y/N's mum was also an addict much like Pete Riley. Broken homes both opened their doors to let loose the monster that lived inside Simon and Y/N's chest, and their jaw clenched at a fury that they never knew where to direct. None of them knew very well how to live now, and at 18, it had stopped being cute long ago.

So, it wasn't Simon beating up John Misty in the playground, rather bare-knuckle fighting drunks at the local pubs that would serve him, spitting into his father's face, in a screaming contest with the police. It was no longer Y/N shop lifting lip glosses from Macy's, giving a cheeky wink to the slow and beat up security cameras, rather than that it was her letting any boy that would fake listen to her feel her up under her clothes in the alley, picking up the tails of stranger's joints in the street. In a race with rats.

The girl detached herself from the wall and fixed her jacket, putting some strands of hair behind her ear and walking down the alley, the sound of her torn sneakers against the cold pavement. The bags under her eyes were turning blue now and her back was starting to hurt like it always did after a shift, but she couldn't go back home, if she ever had one. Plus...she thought, looking up.

The stars were out.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was a nice night.

The stars were out.

He could see it through the smoke of his joint as he leaned over the hill, joint in one hand, 40oz of beer in the other one. Nothing but the grey air of Manchester and the big hill under him, and yet the moon and the stars managed to go out and shine down on all of them mortals. Simon took a drag of the smoke and blew it out almost immediately, feeling every muscle in his body relax. He had to thank Ake next time he saw him; Ake had half a brain but double the heart and was always there when he needed someone to talk to...or free weed.

Yeah, Simon had that other bit covered. He knew that whenever he decided to open his mouth to speak whatever was locked inside, Y/N would be there to listen to him. He was the only girl he could talk to without fucking stuttering or feeling such an inadequate monster of a man. All the girls around him were older, mostly prostitutes, ladies of the night, that were equally broken than him, and more often than not, Simon thought about...just doing it. Pay for it. Pay for sex. In reality, he was paying for the company, for a warm chest and nice hands, for a fake smile, cheap perfume, but who was he to judge?

He stopped doing it that one time he saw Y/N's mum walking down the street in very tight latex and tired eyes and he couldn't stomach the image of another prostitute's kid, hungry and cold, waiting for their mum at home. Much like Y/N had done it before, and Michelle before her.

Around the same time, Y/N grew sick of the one-night stands. Of boys pretending to listen, to care, to feel her up. She grew tired of the empty eyes and the dead beat "goodbye's" after having sex. And after fucking Paul Brendan in the back of the school yard, and the boy fixing himself up and giving him a nasty wink without a second action to it as a goodbye, she decided enough was enough.

It was nice to have a friend for any ocasion.

A best friend.

They started fucking each other the summer they both turned 17.

And they never said it was something, let's say, exclusive, but none of them touched anyone else. Y/N just couldn't trust anyone else enough to do so, wouldn't go near boys or men in general after that last slip of her dignity and self-worth, and it was only wrapped around Simon's arms that she could allow herself to be as intimate as she wanted to, to literally spread open for him.

For Simon, however, it ran deeper. Once he tasted Y/N, well...there was literally no one else in the whole of Manchester that could catch his attention. Maybe he was attracted to other girls, sure, Emily Nichols could make a grown man cry with those tits of her, and Samantha Blunt's leg should be ensured for 1'000'000 pounds at least, but there was just something about Y/N that no one else could supply. It was like she had some sort of additive dripping from in-between her legs, something laced in her saliva that he just couldn't resist. He was just perpetually thirsty.

They never quite said it but they both knew they were only for each other, and they knew each other enough, so much, to reach the point where Simon could tell Y/N who she was in case she forgot.

And that's why, guzzling the rest of his first 40 oz down his throat, messily getting his chin wet, Simon could hear the dry leaves behind him and identify, the way only a kid born in a house on fire could, the steps of her friend behind him.

This was their spot. Sure, maybe some junkies came over, left needles and used condoms around, teenagers like themselves used them to drink from cans of beer and leave their traces behind but this was their spot. Hidden behind thick leaves and bushes, down the hill, slightly tilted down enough to lay down with no effort, only using their elbows. Simon bit down the joint to keep it in place and scratched under his shirt lazily.

"Look what the cat dragged in..." Simon joked, eyes still to the front, to the dark night. He earned nothing but an annoyed huff erupting from Y/N's plush lips as the girl sat down next to him in the dark.

"Fuck off, Riley. I am not in a good mood today."

Simon almost giggled in a lazy weed haze. "Oi, when are you ever in a good mood? I bet...-Shit."

"Shit." They both said at the same time, staring at each other, analyzing their faces, at least as much as the moonlight would let them. They had seen each other with all sorts of bruises and gashes, purple and red, dried blood and busted out stitches but it was always a sight for sore eyes. Simon sat down correctly, putting off the joint next to him next to the beer bottle and Y/N crawled next to him, sitting on her knees to observe his face.

Simon's hands went directly to her face, delicately, afraid to hurt her even more, calloused hand above a beat-up princess cheek. He wasn't surprised, he stopped being surprised years ago, at the same exact spot, seeing her first bruise, boiling with rage, wanting to go to her father, beat him up. Simon was as scrawny 12 year old back then.

Yeah, but it still wasn't a pleasant view. Never would be.

Y/N at the same time was able to stare back at him. Simon's rugged features were there, no doubt, but if she squinted her eyes enough, she could see the boy beneath him. The soft cheeks, now beat up, the kind eyes, now darkened. He was also sporting a pretty gash on top of his eyebrow, still red and angry around the edges. He must have cured it himself. She sucked on his teeth as his hands went and wrapped around Simon's wrist, in an effort to make contact. They both stared at each other for a pretty minute before both stumbled across their own words, trying to figure out what had happened.

"What did..."

"That fucking arsehole, the cunt..."

"Simon, it's not..."

"Did he...?"

"No." They both remained silent. She had hurried the answer, not wanting for Simon to finish the question. "He didn't." Not this time. And it was true. This time it was true. Y/N had seen him reach for his buckle, but she had hurried away before he could do anything to her. Make her do anything to him.

Simon scanned her face for a second. "Good..." he whispered. There was nothing much else to say. He sorts of missed the days where she would rush over to him a crying mess, babbling, shaking with fear and anger and sadness and shock. These days Y/N would just sit next to him, sort of showed her wounds and then just...drink it away. There was nothing else in there. The light was already broken.

The ball of the bottle gagged up and down as Y/N drank a big gulp from it, the burning sensation on her throat long forgotten. Simon watched for a few seconds before deciding to look away, look to the abandoned park in front of them and just let her sit in silence for a while, figure out her emotions, how much pain she was in. If it was worth the cry.

Y/N leaned the bottle next to him and her fingers left the neck of it seconds before Simon picked it up, drank a little himself. She placed her elbows on her bent knees and sniffed the cold air of Manchester through her nose. Simon lazy eyes scanned her side. Perky nose, loose messy ponytail, tear eyed, glassy look. He sighed and shook his head slightly. He wasn't sure about himself but...he knew Y/N deserved better.

This wasn't like any of the other times. Once she was fierce, fiery, talking about how many things he would do to her stepfather if she ever gathered the courage to do it herself or let Simon take business in his own hands, but now she was quiet, and the lonely park was just an extension of her silence. Dead, and beautiful and familiar and comfortable.

He opened his mouth to say something, as he thought he should but Y/N, beautiful, forceful, trainwreck Y/N spoke first.

"You know I see us so far away from here? Sniff." She said with a watery tone in her speak. She looked at him before briefly looking at her torn boot. She sniffed again, holding back tears. "So far from Manchester, so far from that fucking neighborhood..."

"What?" He dared to say. "Wales?" They shared a very brief look before she shook her head.

"Out of fucking England, me and you..." she said, talking absently, more to herself, as if Simon wasn't there. "Away from Ethan, the cunt, and your bloody father. Away from this park..." Her voice was raising, and she didn't even realize she was close to shouting. Simon straightened up in his seat, alert.

"Oi..." he tried to interrumpt, hands up to stabilize her.

"Away from this fucking cold, and the leaky ceilings and, and my whore of a mother and... a-away from...away from that fucking house! Away from... FUCK, FUCK!" she ended screaming, as if it was a crescendo.

No one was around to hear it except Simon, and it tore his insides a little to see the vein in her neck pop out, to see her run out of breath, fisting her hands, face all red and angry. Her chest was going up and down, her rage bubbling inside her chest, from an angry red dissolving into a confusing and cold blue. She swallowed her tears, chest still in a rush and stared at him, biting her bottom lip, trying to contain herself.

It was seeing herself reflected in Simon's unsure, impressed face what broke her. Her brows furrowed, and her face contorted in a sob as Simon opened his arms to embrace her, whiskey bottle now forgotten next to them. Their cheap jackets rubbed against each other, sheltering the cold away from them, so thin their hearts could touch each other.

She had kneeled next to the boy now, almost crawled into his lap and it was only there that she allowed to...feel.

It was the loudest she had cried in years and again it was Simon's chest who sheltered, from the outside world, from the cold, from the dark of the park, from herself. From Ethan.

The girl leaned her cheek against his chest, pressing hardly, as if wanting to crawl into his ribcage. It had reached a point where she was that scared. Where she made sense out of it. She trembled and groaned, and cried, stopped for a few seconds shivering, while Simon rocked her slightly, confused, aware, terrified.

Was this the end? Was this what happened before the whole world went utterly to shit? Were they staring at the abyss and didn't even realize?

The girl trembling in his arms knew it was ending. Something had kicked inside her, her surviving instincts and, okay, if it came to it, he knew that Y/N would be the type of girl to survive a mass shooting, a natural disaster, any disaster really, but first...she was going to cry. She was a Manchester girl, a port girl, she was made to live in the waters.

"I see us so far away from here, Simon..." She repeated, her voice calmer, miles away from that park. "I need us far away from here." Y/N closed her eyes and frowned. "I still believe we deserve a kinder life than this..."

"Y/N..." he whimpered, holding her tight against his chest. "Where...?"

"Do you see it?" She asked, and Simon looked down to his chest, to her pressed cheek against his pectoral, his arms surrounding her small frame, his thumbs rubbing against her shoulders. Her eyes were staring at nothing, or at something very far away in the distance. "Simon, do you see it?"

Did he? What were they going to do now? Okay, out of Manchester, out of England. Then what? They were 18, just out of their mum's fannies, not a penny to their names, no one that gave a shit about them really. Did he really saw something out of that park, something that involved them both, safe, not starved, somewhere warm?

Nobody's son, nobody's daughter.

Somewhere kinder.

He looked down to his chest, to her rosy cheeks, to the small patch of tears that stained his jacket, the icy forms her lips made due to the cold of her breath. A little dove nesting in his chest, a pair of bloody knuckles from bare knuckle fighting, holding her so softly. Simon's breath got caught up in his chest and he decided they will leave town the next day.

"Simon?" she asked, looking up, childish thick eyelashes, glossy stare, hopeful, terrified. "Do you see it?"

He nodded, hugged her tightly against him and felt her arms hugging him back for the first time in the night. She had moved into giving a part of herself, hugging back. She was in.

He kissed her temple, he dared, softly, wet, his eyes now also looking into the distance, to something that involved them both in a kinder place.

"I see it."

[loudcollection]

The Best and Worst of "Sons of Anarchy"

Sons of Anarchy" is not your average TV series. It's a thrilling, gut-wrenching, and often controversial ride through the world of SAMCRO (Sons of Anarchy Motorcycle Club, Redwood Original). With seven seasons of outlaw motorcycle club drama, it has its highs and lows. Let's explore the best and worst aspects of this unforgettable show.

The Best: Complex Characters

One of the show's greatest strengths is its characters. From Jax Teller (played by Charlie Hunnam), the conflicted club president, to Gemma Teller Morrow (Katey Sagal), the matriarch with secrets aplenty, the characters are multi-dimensional and deeply flawed. Their evolution over the series keeps viewers engaged.

The Worst: Excessive Violence

"Sons of Anarchy" doesn't hold back on violence. Some scenes are so gruesome that they make you look away. While this brutality adds realism to the outlaw world, it can be stomach-turning at times.

The Best: Authentic Biker Culture

The show's creators did their homework when it came to portraying biker culture. From the Leather vests adorned with patches to the codes of brotherhood, they nailed the gritty and authentic feel of the motorcycle club world.

The Worst: Questionable Moral Compass

SAMCRO operates on a questionable moral compass. While they may have good intentions at times, their actions often blur the line between anti-hero and villain. Rooting for characters who commit crimes can be morally challenging.

The Best: Loyalty and Brotherhood

At its core, "Sons of Anarchy" is about loyalty and brotherhood. The bonds between club members run deep, and their willingness to sacrifice for one another is both touching and inspiring.

The Worst: Destructive Relationships

While the show explores various types of relationships, many of them are toxic and destructive. From Jax and Tara's tumultuous love story to Gemma's manipulative tactics, the relationships often end in tragedy.

The Best: Gripping Storylines

"Sons of Anarchy" knows how to keep you on the edge of your seat. The intricate plotlines involving rival gangs, power struggles, and personal vendettas make for riveting storytelling.

The Worst: Pacing Issues

At times, the show's pacing can be uneven. Some seasons drag on with seemingly endless subplots, while others rush through major events. Finding the right balance proved challenging.

The Best: Strong Performances

The cast of "Sons of Anarchy" delivers exceptional performances. Charlie Hunnam's portrayal of Jax Teller, in particular, is a standout. Katey Sagal's Emmy-winning performance as Gemma adds depth to the series.

The Worst: Gratuitous Sex and Nudity

The show doesn't shy away from explicit content, including explicit sex scenes and nudity. While it may cater to some viewers, it can feel gratuitous and distracting from the main storyline.

The Best: Thought-Provoking Themes

"Sons of Anarchy" delves into thought-provoking themes like the consequences of one's actions, the price of power, and the impact of family legacy. It offers viewers more than just mindless entertainment.

The Worst: Overwhelming Tragedy

Be prepared for heartbreak. "Sons of Anarchy" doesn't hesitate to kill off major characters, often in devastating ways. These losses can leave viewers emotionally drained.

In conclusion, "Sons of Anarchy" is a show that thrills and challenges its audience. Its complex characters, authentic portrayal of biker culture, and gripping storylines are some of its best qualities. However, its excessive violence, moral ambiguity, and destructive relationships can be difficult to digest. Ultimately, it's a series that leaves a lasting impression, for better or worse, and that's precisely what makes it unforgettable.

[byneddiedingo]

Clive Owen in Children of Men (Alfonso Cuarón, 2006) Cast: Clive Owen, Julianne Moore, Michael Caine, Claire-Hope Ashitey, Chiwetel Ejiofor, Charlie Hunnam, Pam Ferris, Peter Mullan, Danny Huston, Oana Pellea, Phaldut Sharma, Jacek Koman. Screenplay: Alfonso Cuarón, Timothy J. Sexton, David Arata, Mark Fergus, Hawk Ostby, based on a novel by P.D. James. Cinematography: Emmanuel Lubezki. Production design: Jim Clay, Geoffrey Kirkland. Film editing: Alfonso Cuarón, Alex Rodríguez. Music: John Taverner. Since Malthus, overpopulation has always been one of the roads to dystopia, the breakdown of society and the imposition of authoritarian government. But lately, speculative fiction has focused on the opposite: infertility. It gives rise to the theocracy of Gideon in Margaret Atwood's The Handmaid's Tale. And it results in a police state in Alfonso Cuarón's remarkable film Children of Men, set in a dank dystopian London in the year 2027, a world in which human beings stopped bearing children 18 years earlier: i.e., in the year 2009 -- only three years after the film was made. The specificity of the date is reminiscent of the way George Orwell's 1984 serves as a commentary on the year in which it was published, 1948. In its treatment of the plight of immigrants and the racism that underlies it Children of Men has something like the prophetic core of the books by Orwell and Atwood, but it sidesteps a central question: How does the failure of humankind to reproduce precipitate the worldwide cataclysm that the movie presents us? Why are immigrants, in a world with a declining population and therefore less pressure on natural resources, a problem? Cuarón is indifferent to such questions, but he runs the risk of suggesting that the film promotes the extreme "pro-life" view, not only anti-abortion but also anti-contraception. Or is it simply that, as one character puts it, "a world without children's voices" is inevitably a terrible place? The lack of backstory seems to me a weakness in an otherwise extraordinary film, full of violent action and suspense, with some wizardly work by Oscar nominees cinematographer Emmanuel Lubezki and editors Cuarón and Alex Rodríguez. The way they handle the film's much-praised long-take sequences, aided by special effects to give the sense of complex action taking place in a single traveling shot, is exceptional. There are also fine performances by Clive Owen, Julianne Moore, Chiwetel Ejiofor, Clare-Hope Ashitey, and the inevitably wonderful Michael Caine. 

[haroldgross]

New Post has been published on Harold Gross: The 5a.m. Critic

New Post has been published on https://literaryends.com/hgblog/rebel-moon-part-1-a-child-of-fire/

Rebel Moon: Part 1 - A Child of Fire

[3 stars]

It would be easy to dismiss this as derivative dreck, and you wouldn’t be entirely wrong. It has more references and near direct steals from the last 40 years or more of space fantasy and westerns than I’ve seen in a film in a while. But, then again, it started as a Star Wars pitch and even Star Wars ripped off plenty of other films and tropes as well. So “derivative” starts getting very meta very quickly here.

But the real problem with this movie is just how seriously it takes itself. From the melodrama and predictable moments to the Zack Snyder (Army of the Dead) patented slo-mo shots it rapidly descends into level of a silly drinking game. Snyder’s love of slo-mo in this story rivals Abrams’ love of lens flare in his Star Trek reboot.

He at least got a good cast together to try and sell the overwrought dialogue delivered by broken people. Sofia Boutella (Settlers) continues to prove she can kick butt. Ed Skrein (Maleficent: Mistress of Evil) shows there is no character too thin or too twisted that he cannot embrace them. Michiel Huisman (Flight Attendant) continues as the nice guy. Bae Doona (Cloud Atlas, Sense8) is as enigmatic and capable as ever. Charlie Hunnam (Papillon) is as accessible and treacherous as ever. Hell, Snyder even convinced Anthony Hopkins (Armageddon Time) to do his best C3P0 interpretation. Also to Snyder’s credit the women look like credible fighters from their muscles to their costumes and makeup.

To be clear, no individual scene or moment is particularly bad (however plodding), but it is the totality of them together with the unrelenting strum and drang that drags it all down. And the dark undercurrent of every character makes it a challenge to commit or care about any of them entirely. Sure it’s easy to hate the empire, but we never really care enough about the burgeoning rebels to get behind them other than on a principle basis rather than an emotional one. And while I don’t mind flawed heroes or even anti-heroes, we have to hang our hat somewhere emotionally.

Now, to top it all off, this is only part one of the story, with part two coming in April of next year. Will I watch it? Sure. I want to know what happens and see if he can pay off the story he’s remaking here (if you know, you’ll know and if not just enjoy the ride). For a nice afternoon filler you have to admit it has effects and action. We’ll see if it goes anywhere and if he ever finds a sense of humor.

Where to watch

[technoturian]

So after dipping my toe in the Pedro Pascal stan side of tumblr I decided to give his Netflix movies a try. Yesterday was Prospect which I *loved* and today was Triple Frontier which was... possibly the worst movie I’ve seen in the last couple of years.

Spoilers under the tag but honestly... Just don’t watch this movie. If you’re a fan of one of the cute men in it then just search the internet for gifs, I promise you you will get more out of that than you will out of this movie. Ranting below, you’ve been warned.

I have to commend the Pedro fans for their fanon version of his character in this film, as they pretty much were forced to invent him from whole cloth because basically none of that is in the text. And that’s because he doesn’t have a character. None of them have characters! None of them have arcs! The plot doesn’t even have an arc! The movie ended in the biggest shrug I’ve ever seen. They didn’t fail, they didn’t succeed, it was just kind of... well that happened.

Every time I thought, “Okay, I see where this narrative is going...” It just... didn’t. It didn’t go anywhere. The main thrust of the movie was done 30 minutes in and then the rest of the movie was them walking around killing people. Now, it could have been about that, about that they were killing civilians and growing increasingly more cruel and emotionless in their actions, but that was not reflected in the resolution. Nothing that happened in the movie was concluded in a way that made sense. It just was a collection of bad things that happened that then stopped eventually. What about the characters and their families who at the start of the film were stated would be hunted to the ends of the earth by ALL THE CARTELS!! (and other unspecified Bad Criminal People) and at the end just kind of shrug off the fact that they have no money to disappear with? Are Santiago’s fake passports supposed to fix that? Or maybe they deserve that because of the ~horrible things they did~ but then why such a light-hearted, optimistic-ish ending note where they all cheerfully say goodbye? What is the message here?

It was like two producers came together, one said he wanted to make an indie film that was a blunt drama on the horrors of war and dehumanization of the American soldier and a scathing, unflinching indictment of the military industrial complex, and the other one said he wanted to make a shoot-em-up heist movie with big budget actors and lots of explosive action and they were like...

...and mushed them together without any attempt to make a cohesive and narratively satisfying story. It fails at both of these aspects by committing to neither. I saw only the briefest hints of any kind of thematic thread that was so incompetently conveyed that it might as well have never existed. I can’t understand how this movie has such high approval from critics??? What did you like here, was it all of the monologues about how war takes and takes and doesn’t pay well enough? Because if you like that, there was a lot of that. It doesn’t actually go anywhere but it’s there and gee, it’s a thinker, huh, war is bad actually. Groundbreaking.

And this is not an indictment on the actors at all (except for Ben Affl*ck, he can choke). They were honestly working so hard, I could see that, and it made me angrier than if they’d phoned it in. I honestly cannot imagine how they got all of these big actors in this movie and gave them absolutely nothing to work with!

Every one of these characters save Santiago had the same ~arc~, “I don’t like what being a soldier did to me except I’m super loyal so I’m just going to do this one last job oh crap everything is terrible better turn on my murder training...” Which is like... Yeah that happens when you join the military, it’s awful, sure. “War is hell” and all that. But just pointing that out doesn’t make these successful, rounded characters or make this a good movie. I again applaud fans that found any value in these characters, it honestly feels like a case of “I like this actor so much that he deserves a lot better than this, let me invent an alternate reality where he actually had substance”. I can’t feel bad for them too much because I guess, I hope they had fun filming it on location and made a lot of that Netflix money?

As an exercise I tried to think of a single line in this movie that, if shifted from one character to another, would have changed... anything. If it would’ve effected their character at all. If it would’ve felt like it didn’t fit, like, “well HE wouldn’t say THAT”. I couldn’t think of one. They were all completely interchangeable. They all switch from being guilty about killing people to not really caring to straight up going murder-happy depending on the scene, excusing their actions and condemning them. ~Oho, but don’t you see, that’s the duality of the soldier, the hero and the villain~ shut up, it’s bad narrative if you can’t even figure out what a character’s motivations and baseline personality are.

Literally the only person I saw any slight arc from was Santiago, who basically got all of his plot threads neatly tied up by the halfway point and then was just a shell of regret like the other characters. From then on the only person with any sort of arc potential was Tom, because he was the first to get greedy and he was the one to shoot first and I thought “Okay cool, so he’s going to turn on them or something as the money dwindles because he’s going to put his family first and they’re really going to show how far they’ve fallen” and nope he’s dead, of course he’s dead, that’s the end of the only character that seemed like he MIGHT be going anywhere (not that I cared because Ben Affl*ck can choke). Even the romance arc didn’t go anywhere! It literally stops halfway through the movie just like everything else???? This movie feels like they lost the second half of the script days before filming and they were like, “Um, and, um, lots of... climbing the Andes, and, um, this Andes thing is going to be very long and so that’ll pad it out and, um??? War is bad, look what they make you do, look what they make you give etcetera etcetera? Then, uh, action driving scene, uh, yeah. There we go, finished.”

I honestly just can’t believe I sat through a movie with Ben Affl*ck, Charlie Hunn*m’s absolute travesty of an American accent, and 70s-80s dad rock music just because two hot Star Wars boys were in it. Maybe the real message of the movie is the hot boys we looked at along the way.

* And because it didn’t fit anywhere else, just a shoutout to this particular part: William’s character introduction being a recruitment speech that starts with “My PTSD is so bad I have violent blackouts” and somehow with a scene cut manages to circle back around to “So anyway kids stay in the Army it’s the best and you’re all patriots” is the most heinous thing that completely undermines A, his place as the moral center/voice of reason of the film and B, any anti-military message the movie might be vaguely attempting. I just keep remembering that compilation video of young, desperately sad military recruits saying “f*ck you” and “you lied” to their recruiter and thinking, “This guy has given this speech HUNDREDS of times??”

[enbydindjarin]

Here’s a Tom-free triple frontier poster for all my fellow Tom haters 🥰

[stolligaseptember]

how much money do i need to cancel cw’s arrow and sponsor a green arrow movie starring charlie hunnam and katheryn winnick instead?

asking for a friend

[bandomfandombeyond]

@anarchycox I know I've been MIA from fandom/tumblr in general and Kingsman/your feed specifically, but there's a SLEPT ON SPIRITUAL SUCCESSOR TO THE KINGSMAN FRANCHISE (especially since the King's Man was so damn disappointing) THAT GOT OVERSHADOWED BY THE PANDEMIC

it's called "The Gentlemen" (2019)

There's Posh v Chav (with a Chav rap song written just for the movie), there's a (drug(just weed)) empire caught in the middle, there's liberal use of the Fuck word, gratuitous violence, a man desperately in love with his wife, oh and did I mention eye candy galore? Matthew McConaughey, Colin Farrell, Hugh Dancy. (somehow this movie made Dancy unattractive, you have to watch it just for the sheer disbelief) and DIRECTED by Guy Ritchie, he of the RDJ Sherlock genius.

also the movie actually manages to balance music and dialogue with no problem.

I will say, warnings for racism, classism, attempted rape, bestiality (nothing on screen, just allusions and the aftermath, it's weird, imo some of the sexual violence feels like it was tacked on at some exec's order after the rest of the movie was filmed), uhhhh anti-drug user sentiment, murder and manslaughter, emetophobia, uhmmmm and probably some flashing lights

I know that's a heavy tag list but it was so funny even with that stuff.

pls think about watching it 🥹 (but I still think you're cool if you don't)

*ETS: HOW COULD I FORGET CHARLIE HUNNAM HIS CHARACTER IS MY NEWEST BLORBO????

[thediamondolls]

this list is ever changing, check back for updates!

TV Muses:

Heidi Barrie / Buffy the Vampire Slayer ( fc: shelley hennig )

Jo Harvelle / Supernatural ( fc: alona tal )

Ruby ( v. 1.0 ) / Supernatural ( fc: katie cassidy )

Saxa /  Spartacus ( fc: ellen hollman )

Santanico Pandemonium / From Dusk til Dawn ( fc: eiza gonzalez )

Vanessa Styles / From Dusk til Dawn ( fc: adrianne palicki )

Serena van der Woodsen / OG Gossip Girl ( fc: blake lively )

OC's:

Aoife / Anita Blake: Vampire Hunter ( fc: katherine mcnamara )

Ebony Sparda / Devil May Cry ( fc: emeraude toubia )

Eirny / X-Men ( fc: danielle rose russell )

Ekaterina Romanov / John Wick ( fc: megan fox )

Freki / Werewolf lore ( fc: katherine winnick )

Keres Angelos / AHS Coven ( fc: ryan ashley malarkey )

Laura Lawrence / Cobra Kai ( fc: jeanine mason )

Lilith / Biblical / Mythology Based ( fc: samantha robinson )

Mariella Salvatore / The Vampire Diaries / The Originals ( fc: giulia de lellis ) 

Remini : x5-404 / Dark Angel ( fc: lindsay morgan )

Video Games:

Faith Seen / Far Cry 5 ( fc: anya taylor joy )

Jill Valentine / Resident Evil ( fc: tbd )

Lilith the Siren / Borderlands ( fc: tbd )

Susie Jordan aka The Legion / Dead by Daylight ( fc: lights poxleitner )

Movies:

Amber Sweet / Repo! the genetic opera ( fc: ryan ashley malarkey )

Marnie Wallace / Repo! the genetic opera ( fc: emily blunt )

Delta / Jurassic World ( fc: adrianne palicki )

Fox Mask / You’re Next ( fc: jon bernthal )

Ginger Fitzgerald / Ginger Snaps ( fc: katherine isabel )

Holly Garling / PET ( fc: ksenia solo )

Jennifer Check / Jennifer’s Body ( fc: megan fox )

Kirby Reed / Scream 4 ( fc: hayden pantierre )

Tattoo / Moulin Rouge! ( fc: ryan ashley malarkey )

Tracy Bingham / All Cheerleaders Die ( fc: natalie alyn lind )

Comics:

America Chavez / Marvel ( fc: xochitl gomez )

Bobbi Morse / Marvel ( fc: blake lively )

Christine Palmer / Marvel ( fc: rachel mcadams )

Clint Barton / Marvel ( fc: aaron paul )

Dinah Lance / DC ( fc: katherine winnick )

Jessica Jones / Marvel ( fc: krystin ritter )

Natasha Romanov / Marvel ( fc: ana de armas )

Oliver Queen / DC ( fc: charlie hunnam )

Sersi / Marvel ( fc: gemma chan )

Tandy Bowen / Marvel ( fc: olivia holt )

Zatanna Zatara / DC ( fc: emeraude toubia )

Literature:

Cherry / Anita Blake: Vampire Hunter ( fc: brianne howey )

Corky Corcoran / Fear Street Cheerleaders ( fc: sabrina carpenter )

Itzpapalotl / Anita Blake: Vampire Hunter ( fc: becky g )

Jeyne Westerling / ASOIAF ( fc: lily james )

Rafael Espinoza / Anita Blake: Vampire Hunter ( fc: clayton cardenas )

Raina Wallis / Anita Blake: vampire hunter

Ridley Duchannes  / Caster Chronicles aka Beautiful Creatures ( fc: dove cameron )

Rosalie Hale / Twilight ( fc: sydney sweeney / anti smeyer )

Rosha Nelson / Fear Street: The Perfect Date ( fc: olivia holt )

Shiera Seastar / ASOIAF ( fc: tbh )

Sookie Stackhouse / Southern Vampire Mysteries aka True Blood ( fc: tbd )

Stormy Llewellyn / Odd Thomas ( fc: danielle campbell )

Vivian Gandillon / Blood and Chocolate ( fc: virginia gardner )

Request:

Churchill Creed / Pet Semetary ( fc: zane holtz )

Eventide Grimhilde / Grimm / descendants multi-fandom ( fc: sofia carson )

Fawkes / Harry Potter ( fc: ana de armas )

Hedwig / Harry Potter ( fc: diana agron )

Jane Foster / Marvel ( fc:  alicia vikander ) 

Sansa Stark / ASOIAF ( fc: sophie turner )

[ambrcsialtm]

okay what’s poppin’, i’m alyssa, i’m twenty - two ( twenty - three in june gag ), and i’ve been roleplaying for so long ??? highkey terrifying. anyways, i’m a gemini hold ur applause and groans tyvm, i’m black, i am on the est, and i go by she / her pronouns ! i do not, under any circumstances, tolerate racism, homophobia, transphobia, anti-semitism, xenophobia, bigotry of any kind or things like s*xual assault or p*deophilia.

i love to organize shit as shown by my extensive tv show list which is here ( separated by genre and color - coded by streaming platform ) and if you need fc suggestions, it’s secretly my passion so always feel free to ask. below are some plots that i feel like, will always interest me ( subject to change ! ). pls feel free to hmu if any of these interest u !

anything where i play opp jack o’connell, rihanna, trevante rhodes, daniel kaluuya, charlie hunnam, manny montana, steven yeun, jon bernthal, or tom hardy !

cliche goody two shoes + rebel fall in love plots

original characters in game of thrones or harry potter universes

crime plots, all of them

mlm, wlw, m/f, i’m with it all

plots centered around college students ( gotta write what u know best ! )

im not ashamed of it, i love smut i’m a grown fuckin woman gdi

period plots ( i’m a sucker for the 1920s through to the 40s but any period is welcome ! )

long lost loves / seeing each other for the first time after a break up plots omg

anything with angst tbh

anything inspired by sons of anarchy / mayans bc i’m in love with jax, juice, angel, miguel, and ez hello

most of my fav romance plots are based off of romcoms so i love a lil comedy in my shit

my wanted plots are also here !

my fav fcs are also listed here !

i won’t write with anyone under eighteen, i won’t write anything high school unless it’s like a temporary flashback of two adult characters or smth, and sometimes huge age gaps make me uncomfy ! i’m sorry in advance if my writing is shit or if i take 10301403940 years to reply, i’m a full time college student and part time teacher’s aide for first graders so a bitch is busy ! i love you all, come write with me !

[lancethefordforeigner]

Who else is here praying to god that if Charlie Hunmen becomes Green Arrow and DC gives him a solo movie Felicity isn't in it?

[philosopherking1887]

#ok fine i'm joining the re-casting train (via @incredifishface)

YESSSSS JOIN ME

Does anyone who knows how to edit/manipulate photos want to put Charlie Hunnam’s face on old photos of Thor from Thor 1 through AOU? I would pay actual money.

[wyrd-rpg]

6persoschallenge

de @mysterious-corvidae

Mieux vaut tard que jamais ! Je voulais tout poster en une fois finalement, donc maintenant que tout est fait, c’est parti !

Je n'ai pas beaucoup voyagé dans la toile du rpg, donc les 3 premiers persos sont issus du même forum. Logique quand je réalise que ça fait 12 ans que je rp dans cet univers, avec une petite dizaine de persos pour celui-ci. Contexte urban fantasy avec créatures connues et inventées.

→ Perséphone | 40 ans | Katheryn Winnick – Slaying the Dreamer

Il s'agit du personnage que j'ai joué le plus longtemps, 7 ans bien qu'elle ait eu droit à une refonte.

Persé, c'est le genre de perso qui pense faire le bien mais s'aveugle de sa justice partiale. Elle ne veut pas admettre les problèmes de ses raisonnements, elle aura toujours une réplique à première vue pleine de bon sens. Elle veut servir de relais pour les victimes, les défendre, porter leur voix parce qu'elle cache elle-même des blessures qui ne sont, après des années, toujours pas cicatrisées. Comme elle s'est endurcie, elle veut se battre pour ceux qui n'en ont pas les moyens.  Sauf qu'elle veut tellement protéger qu'elle en perd de l'empathie pour les créatures qui, d'après elle, sont dangereuses, même si elle ne veut « que » leur faire renoncer à leur essence fantastique. Son don y a également contribué : ses cibles font des cauchemars qui mettent en évidence leurs noirceurs, et leur vision lui était imposée si elle dormait en même temps. Progressivement, elle perdait foi en l'humanité, accablée par la violence de ce qu'elle vivait au travers du subconscient d'autrui.

→ Abel | 36 ans | Jason Momoa - And it feels like I’m dying inside

C'est sans doute celui qui m'a le plus touché, dont les rps m'ont le plus ému. C'est aussi le seul vampire que j'ai joué, pas trop attiré par ce mythe à la base.

Marié, père de deux enfants, il mène une vie simple jusqu'à ce qu'on le transforme. Il se réveille à l'hôpital dans l'ignorance collective : aliéné par sa transformation, il attaque ceux qu'ils croisent dont sa fille. Il sera envoyé dans la prison de la ville d'à côté, ville vivant en connaissance de cause avec le surnaturel. Abel est persuadé d'avoir tué son enfant et tombe dans la dépression. Un traumatisme de son enfance le pousse à s'accrocher et, plus tard, suite à l'évolution de l'intrigue qui a révélé les secrets, il fait alliance avec les autorités. En échange de la protection pour sa famille (qu'il n'a pas vue depuis deux ans), il leur sert de taupe. Il a la conviction d'avoir détruit sa famille et n'espère même pas la retrouver. Pour lui, il est déjà mort. Il joue le rôle d'un jeune vampire désemparé (ce qui est aussi vrai), à l'écoute pour mieux glaner les informations auprès de ses pairs. Derrière ses mots aimables et ses blagues, il camoufle la haine qu'il ressent pour eux. Pour lui et le monstre qu'il est devenu à ses yeux. Il découvrira dans un RP que sa fille a survécu et que sa famille l'attend, apprendra même que son épouse se bat pour lui. L'espoir vibre dès lors de nouveau en lui. Il lorgne après la solution miracle proposée pour redevenir humain, mais le gouvernement traîne pour l'utiliser le plus possible...

→ Cash | 34 ans | Charlie Hunnam – Deux petits joints par jour, c'est anti-dépresseur

Je le joue actuellement, ou plutôt j'essaie, puisque j'ai beaucoup de mal à écrire pour le moment T_T 

Durant son adolescence, il subit l'attaque d'un lycan qu'il mettra longtemps à surmonter. Il y perd définitivement une partie de ses doigts. Le surnaturel non révélé à l'époque, personne ne le croit. En parallèle des séances de psy et de rééducation, il trouve refuge dans l'imaginaire (littérature, jeux de rôles) et le cannabis. Quand le secret est révélé, il ressent un immense soulagement : il sait, enfin, ce qu'il s'est passé. Il est heureux, fasciné, bien trop curieux... et en même temps terriblement effrayé. Il utilise néanmoins l'arrière boutique de son bar/magasin de jeux de société pour aider un trafic de sang : mieux les vampires sont nourris, moins il court de risques ! Cash, c'est un optimiste, rêveur, paumé, une peluche qui ne demande qu'à être rassurée. Il cherche à rattraper l'enfance qu'on lui a volée, à oublier ses douleurs qui lui rappellent ses membres fantômes. Sans surprise, il joue, beaucoup, et il a la fâcheuse tendance à prendre des décisions au jet de dés qui traînent toujours dans sa poche. 

→ Aaliyah | 28 ans/millénaires | Sara Sampaio – Anger filling the void

Je n'ai pu faire que quelques posts de rp avec elle, le forum ayant malheureusement fermé, mais elle a représenté une étape. Je me suis poussé à m'inscrire pour contrer mes insécurités (on connaît tous ces pensées de « je ne serais pas à la hauteur ») et c'était la première fois depuis mon co trans que je créais un nouveau personnage féminin.

Divinité de la destruction, incarnation de la colère, elle a pourtant perdu tout souvenir et puissance depuis des siècles. Née par la tourmente de son père et créateur qui voit son âme-sœur tuée devant ses yeux, elle hérite de cette rage qui la fera combattre dans une guerre aux confins de l'univers. Écho de ce lien déchiré, elles naissent à deux, jumelles et âme-sœurs, connectées au point de forcément disparaître avec l'autre. Leurs ennemis leur infligent une malédiction : elles atterrissent sur Terre, séparées, mémoire purifiée, capacités réinitialisées. Elles sont vouées à se réincarner parmi les humains dans l'ignorance, à errer pour se retrouver. Pourtant, son essence persiste, ce néant qui la dévore la corrompt sans cesse, parfois elle découvre une parodie de pouvoirs qu'elle avait auparavant sans jamais comprendre. Fidèle à ses attributs, elle reste un mal qui gangrène la société, à son échelle minuscule dorénavant. Dans sa dernière réincarnation, Aaliyah est une héritière fortunée qui utilise son argent pour se poser en bienfaitrice, participant activement à des ONG, cherchant une cause à son sentiment de révolte. Ce statut lui sert à cacher sa secte funeste.

→ Harmony | 23 ans | Rachel Bilson - Fear of the dark

Un de mes premiers persos, et je crois le premier PV que j'ai pris (il y a au moins dix ans donc). Un perso qui est à contre-courant de ce que je joue d'habitude depuis XD

De mes maigres souvenirs, c'était une jeune femme artiste, une véritable pile électrique qui n'arrêtait pas de parler (même dans les situations délicates – surtout dans ces situations ?). C'était toujours dans un contexte fantastique, et quand elle découvre la réalité de certains mythes, son côté froussard explose. Je ne m'en souviens pas dans les détails mais elle m'a suffisamment marqué pour que j'y pense en réfléchissant à ce challenge. C'était vraiment comme si une personne lambda se retrouvait au milieu de créatures mythiques : elle PANIQUAIT comme pas possible.

→ Lazarus | 38 ans | Ben Barnes – Lord of lies

Je l’ai déjà présenté dans ce post.

[nerdsagainstfandomracism]

But this isn’t an anti-establishment diatribe, poking fun at the landed gentry and anyone who clings mercilessly onto power – it’s an act of pure nihilism, fuelled by rudderless rage. Jews, women, the working class, gay people, black people, the entirety of East Asia – every imaginable demographic gets their moment to be targeted and denigrated. The only thing The Gentlemen finds worth celebrating is the bravado of white masculinity, as Mickey repeatedly tricks his enemies and comes out on top. The label of “equal opportunity offender” doesn’t quite ring true when you label yourself as exempt from parody.

Neither is this excusable under the banner of character authenticity. The film is structured around a colourful retelling by tabloid journalist Fletcher (Hugh Grant) to one of Mickey’s cronies, Raymond (Charlie Hunnam). Considering his acrimonious relationship with certain sectors of the press, the actor's clearly revelling in the role. Grant’s accent is an impression of a Michael Caine impression and his goatee, leather jacket, and tinted glasses mark the height of dirtbag fashion. He’s practically been built to deliver punchlines and is handed the lion’s share of the worst ones. Early on, he introduces Henry Golding’s Dry Eyes as a “Chinese, Japanese, Pekingese” Bond-type, before swapping the “l” for an “r” in the phrase “licence to kill”. There’s no doubt Ritchie intends for his audience to laugh here.

Guy Ritchie Goes Full Reactionary in the 'The Gentlemen,' a Boring Slog of Racist Caricatures Masquerading as Style

‘The Gentlemen’ review: Guy Ritchie’s cartoonish crime caper is stained with casual racism

The Gentlemen review – Guy Ritchie’s dated gangster romp

[communistkenobi-archive]

PLEEEEASE give us ur meta thots on pacrim oh im begging u lord and savior oriyala

I like the movie!!!!!!!! I’m not a fan of the romance in it, mostly because Raleigh’s actor is pretty boring and flat, but the whole concept of drift compatibility is (literally) galaxy brain because you can overlay it onto basically any type of close bond between two people.

And this isn’t like a hot take or anything because this movie is not at all subtle, but it has a pretty straightforward environmentalist/anti-colonial message which is cool, even if that’s undercut by the heroes basically being the military (although not the US military specifically, which is an interesting change from a lot of big popcorn action movies).

Most of my enjoyment from the movie comes from the cool ass fights, the robot designs (cherno alpha fucking rules so hard!!!!!!), the soundtrack, and the concept of drift compatibility itself, but it’s not like my favourite movie or anything. I think if Mako was the main character OR Charlie Hunnam didn’t play Raleigh I would have liked it a lot more, because I don’t mind cheese and it is a Kaiju vs Robot movie, but I still enjoyed it!!!