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joshjacksons · 3 years ago

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Joshua Jackson interview with “Irish Independent”

It was during a childhood visit to his granny’s house in Dublin’s Ballyfermot that Joshua Jackson smoked his first cigarette.

“My memories of those visits to Ballyfermot are quite sweet really,” the Dawson’s Creek actor recalls. “I was always running around with the neighbourhood kids, getting into trouble. Not bad trouble, just little-kid trouble. Although, technically it’s where I smoked my first cigarette, so that in itself isn’t the sweetest memory.”

Jackson’s handsome face surges with deep laughter lines and quiet dimples at the mention of mum Fiona’s home turf. “She might prefer I’d say she was from Chapelizod”, he jokes, before proudly pinning his mum’s allegiance to “Ballyer”.

Was the young Canadian treated like a shiny, exotic object by the local kids? “I was a bit, but I became less exotic the older I got. Culturally, I was so far away from an Irish kid but in a little pack of children, everyone finds their level. It also helped that I had my own cousins, my own blood, around with us. I had that family connection so I never felt too exoticised.”

An entry on his IMDb profile suggests his late grandparents Rosemary and Patrick were opera singers in Dublin, indicating that performance runs in the genes. The actor seems unaware. “Mum tells me they used to sing to each other a lot. My grandparents lived in council housing with a little kitchen out the back, garden right outside, and they would sing to each other through the window as he was out pottering about while she was cooking.

“But he was known more as a snooker shark around Ballyfermot. And my grandmother, she was known as a sainted mother of seven.”

Having welcomed his first child, Janie, with his wife, the actor Jodie Turner-Smith, last year, it’s obvious family is paramount for 43-year-old Jackson, as he Zoom-calls from a rich hotel suite with dark wallpaper and plump cushions in the background. It stems from an evident bond with his mum, whose presence lovingly peppers our conversation. Just 16 when she left Dublin, Fiona Jackson travelled through Paris, Amsterdam and Geneva before embracing the vibrancy of London’s Swinging Sixties and ultimately making for Vancouver in her early twenties.

In an entry on her blog, she speaks of falling for “the spectacular beauty of snow-capped mountains and the Pacific Ocean” and ultimately scoring an entry-level position at a Canadian talent agency. It led to a career as a successful casting agent, working on film classics including Carnal Knowledge with Jack Nicholson and McCabe & Mrs Miller with Warren Beatty and Julie Christie.

She met and married Joshua’s father, John Carter, and the young family moved to Los Angeles. Sister Aisleagh was born shortly before John walked out on the family, leaving a profound effect.

“My father, unfortunately, was not a good father or husband and exited the scene,” the actor disclosed last year, before adding it’s something he “will never get over”.

Young infants in tow, Fiona returned to Vancouver and, having found early success in casting, helped contribute to the foundation of the burgeoning “Hollywood North” industry on the Canadian west coast.

Accompanying his mum on set, young Joshua’s interests were piqued. “She introduced me to this world and saw from a young age that I enjoyed performing in a way that kids do. She allowed me the opportunity to step into her work world, but it was also very clear that it was work.”

He appeared as an extra on MacGyver and as a child actor’s double in The Fly II, and Fiona could see her son’s talent and genuine desire to impress. So she allowed him to audition. However, permission came with strict caveats.

“I don’t think my mum would have ever put me anywhere near the entertainment industry if I didn’t have something to offer to it. And not just for myself; she’s a prideful woman and didn’t want to be embarrassed by her kid.”

Casting 1991 melodrama Crooked Hearts with ER’s Noah Wyle, Fiona gave Joshua a chance to shine. Impressing the filmmakers, the then-12-year-old secured the part, setting him not only on a path to stardom but away from the troubles of his teen years.

“My mother gave me the guard rails I needed at that time and also recognised, being a working single mum and with me a young boy, transitioning into a teenager, I needed structure in my life. I needed something that I was passionate about and had a respect for, because I was kind of a typical teenage disaster.

“I look back on those times in my life and the two parallel tracks I was running on. On the one hand, getting into all sorts of trouble and, on the other hand, my professional life, where I showed up and learned my lines and did my job in order to be respected by the adults I was around. If I hadn’t had that professional side of my life, the other side would have taken over, and Mum saw that. Who knows where I would have ended up?”

So Jackson was a full-on teen delinquent? “Yeah, I was, to a certain extent. It was relatively innocent — nobody died — but I was a teenage boy who didn’t have a father in the home, didn’t have a man to be scared of, frankly, and as a teenage boy, I think that helps. My mum had to work and she wasn’t always in the house so I learned to get into more and more trouble. I got into just enough trouble to have a good time and learn some lessons but if I hadn’t had my work life, I might have tipped over into the kind of trouble that you don’t come back from.”

Three decades in and Jackson remains one of the hardest-working, most recognisable actors in the game. Hitting pay dirt at 18 as Dawson’s Creek’s Pacey Witter — the wisecracking, teacher-bedding antithesis to James Van Der Beek’s beleaguered titular drip — the actor was a revelation: the soul and bite of a seasoned character performer in the guise of relatable poster-boy idol.

Teens swooned, so did the industry, and alongside Van Der Beek, Michelle Williams and Katie Holmes, Jackson had Hollywood at his feet.

A string of popcorn offerings followed — Cruel Intentions, Gossip, Shutter, Cursed — some quality, others derivative, with the small screen ultimately best utilising his skills. A five-season run on sci-fi series Fringe was followed by an outstanding turn on Showtime’s The Affair. Last year, he maintained a brooding presence opposite Reese Witherspoon and Kerry Washington in Little Fires Everywhere. And this year, he takes on arguably his darkest work yet in Dr Death.

The new miniseries is based on the non-fiction podcast of the same name, and Jackson portrays Christopher Duntsch, a former spinal surgeon who maimed 33 patients owing to gross malpractice while operating in hospitals in Dallas and Fort Worth, Texas. Two of these patients lost their lives. Convicted in 2017, Duntsch is currently in prison and serving life imprisonment. He still maintains his innocence, with his defence arguing that he was merely a bad surgeon, not a criminal.

Exuding a simmering malevolence, the actor showcases Duntsch’s disturbing complexities and terrifying behaviour as a narcissist and sociopath with a keen insight. Did Jackson meet with Duntsch? “I wanted to, but that was going to be really difficult because he’s appealing his case and his lawyers would’ve advised against it. And as I got deeper into the materials and podcast, and got a better understanding of the man, I don’t think it would’ve helped because he still really believes he’s the victim of his own patients, and the lawyers and the legal system. I’m not sure asking a liar for the truth gets you any closer to the truth.”

When it came to the victims, Jackson wanted to maintain a respectful distance. “I didn’t need to drag them through those awful memories again and I’m always a little dubious about asking people to delve into the worst moments of their life just to satisfy my curiosity. The questions had already been asked thanks to the podcast.”

Dr Death came at the right time in the actor’s life. New baby daughter Janie offered a crucial respite from the intense, and often dark, six-month foray into Duntsch’s malignant psyche.

“Inhabiting Mr Duntsch was an ugly space to live in for six months. If I’d been coming home to an empty house every night, it would have been a pretty bleak existence. It was so much better to come back to a loving home. My one-year-old doesn’t give a damn what I was doing that day. She just wants to be loved and hugged and cuddled, and it was the perfect antidote when some days were particularly heavy.”

Recently Jackson confessed that the Dawson’s Creek cast won’t be returning for a retrospective reunion like the Friends stars did earlier this year. “If you put our mid-forties selves together on a couch now, with our creaking backs, it might shock people.”

Quizzed on an actual reboot of the drama, Joshua reckons he’s simply too old to replicate the iconic rapid exchanges of dialogue between the garrulous young characters. “We were like The West Wing for teenagers,” he laughs, referencing Aaron Sorkin’s hit political TV series, also infamous for speedy script delivery. “My 43-year-old brain couldn’t do a show at that pace. Back then, we were doing seven, 10 pages a day and, to deliver dialogue at that speed, you have to have a certain mental capacity for that, and I don’t have it anymore. That’s the real reason why we’re not doing a reunion — I’ve become too dumb to keep up with that script.”

He remains in touch with his DC co-stars, including Holmes, his one-time girlfriend of two years. There’s even a text chain. “It goes through spurts every once in a while. I’ll have a bunch of messages on it and then it’ll go dormant. We’re like college friends — there are moments we’re all in contact and then long, fallow periods as we get on with our lives.”

While maintaining a busy slate, Jackson’s overwhelming purpose continues to circle the women in his life. Turner-Smith is currently shooting a new movie with Adam Driver and Greta Gerwig, so he’s assuming full-time dad duties. It’s an equitable arrangement given the flexible needs of their individual commitments, and one he appears content with.

#joshua jackson #dr death #dawson's creek #fringe #the affair #jodie turner smith

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nev3rfound · 5 years ago

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beyond belief : part nine - s.r

brief summary: it’s been a year since you said goodbye to steve rogers, but you’re needed by the avengers now more than ever

word count: 2.7k requested: yes - by a series of people so thank you! (and I know it’s been many months since I last posted about this series, but here we are the end at last!) warnings: none that i’m aware of?

part one / part two / part three / part four / part five / part six / part seven / part eight / part nine (final)

* masterlistin

(everything on my blog is my own writing. if it is shared on another page or website know it isn’t me. all rights reserved. - thank you to everyone who helped regarding the wattpad situation, you’re all amazing)

permanent taglist

An entire year had passed by since Steve had been given the video of your goodbye to him. And despite it all, the pain still felt fresh whenever your name was mentioned.

All Steve wanted was to see you, speak to you face to face. But with your whereabouts left as classified information, he was left just to wonder about you and hope you were alright.

Truth be told, you were. You were healing, working on yourself with the occasional visit from old friends, Carol included to your surprise. Yet, with every visit you could tell they were holding something back, there was something they weren’t telling you, but you could simply see it in the looks they exchanged with one another.

Opening your eyes, you rolled over in the bed, once more woken up in a cold sweat with memories of what the Teacher inflicted on you.

A pair of hands rest on your shoulders as you blink rapidly, looking up to see Wanda smiling softly. “It’s only me, I’m real.” She assures you, glancing down to see your hands burning energy and it slowly dissipates.

“Sorry,” You mutter quietly as you sit upright, ignoring the cold sweat lining your back. “I forgot you were here.”

Wanda shrugs her shoulder in response. “It’s okay, was it about?” She doesn’t have to finish her question to see you scrunching up the duvet with your palms, the apparent fear in your gaze.

“I’ve not had a nightmare about it in a while.” You sigh, bringing your legs close to your chest, just how you did in the experiment when you were scared. “It just felt, felt so real.” You focus on Wanda as tears fill your eyes, but you blink them away.

“It’s okay to feel defeated sometimes, Y/n.” She mutters, reaching out but you flinch away, retreating to the corner of the bed as you huddle by the window. “It happens to us all.”

Keeping your eyes fixated on the wind blowing through the leaves you take a deep breath in an attempt to ease your rapid heart beat. “It just feels like I’m making progress and then I have a nightmare and suddenly I’m back to square one all over again.” You admit, watching as two squirrels spiral around a tree and a smile ghosts your lips.

“Is this about what Tony said the other day?” Wanda questions to you, noting your smile dropping as you glance back over to her, nodding. “It’s only if your ready, Y/n. It’s a training mission, but he doesn’t want to force you out if you’re not sure.” She reminds you, having sat beside you as Tony explained the mission to you.

“I would’ve been ready yesterday.” You remark. “But now, now I just don’t know, Wanda.”

Wanda can tell there’s something you’re not admitting, but throughout all of this, she’s learnt better than to try and prise information out of you. The last time that happened, she was thrown through the window in the kitchen.

“Well, you know how to reach us, okay?” She pats the bedding, leaving the burner phone that you’ve not used since you arrived at the cabin. “I’m only a phone call away, you know that.” She quietly adds before rising to her feet and heading toward the door.

“Thank you, Wanda.” You call out as she reaches the front door.

She hesitates before turning back, seeing you now sat upright with the phone in your hand. “Anytime, Y/n.” She tells you before walking out and boarding the Quinjet, seeing Tony rising to his feet.

“Well?” He questions, watching as Wanda shakes her head. “You tried, kid.” He mutters as they fly off, leaving you in solitude once more.

“Agent Rogers, Tony and Wanda have returned.” FRIDAY announces and Steve lifts his head up from his desk.

“Thanks, FRIDAY.” He responds before rising to his feet, wandering through the compound to see if there’s a small chance that this time you’ll be alongside them.

Once again, Steve allows his heart to sink as Wanda and Tony walk off unaccompanied. Wanda frowns to herself upon seeing Steve waiting in anticipation and walks over to him. “I’m sorry, Steve.” She brings him into a tight hug. “We tried.”

Steve half heartedly hugs Wanda back. “It’s okay, Wan.” He mutters, unable to hide his disappointment. “She’ll come back eventually.” He thinks aloud, trying to convince himself more than anyone else at this point.

“She is getting better though.” Wanda tells Steve, hoping to ignite some hope in him as he begins to walk off, back toward his room. “Don’t give up, Steve.” Wanda calls out as she listens to a door closing, causing her to jump slightly.

“All we can do, Wanda.” Tony tells her as he walks past with a sad look in his eyes. “Just gotta keep trying and at some point, we might get through to her.”

Standing in his room, Steve walks over to his laptop with clenched fists. He sits down and opens up the video once again, something he can’t help but do.

He leans in, watching as your face appears on the screen, but you’re too scared to look at the lens. “Steve, I,” You pause and Steve can feel his heart stopping, just like the first time he watched the video. “I’m sorry it’s come to this. But I’m not safe, I, I’m not secure in myself so I’ve left the compound.” He watches as you look around the place you’re staying, still wondering where you could be.

Steve will never forget when Tony delivered him the small envelope, your neat hand writing on the front. He tried to remain composed as he rushed to his room to see what it was, but felt like a broken man as the footage came to an end.

“I don’t know if or when I’ll return, but please, do not blame yourself for any of it.” Tears line your eyes as you sniff. “This wasn’t your fault, or mine. There are people out there who torture for their own gain, as you know all too well.” A flash of fear crosses your eyes and Steve can feel his heart breaking, all he wants to do is hold you close and apologise.

Reaching his hand up to the screen, Steve sighs as tears fall down your cheeks. “I’m so sorry, Y/n.” He mutters watching as you finally look directly at him, right into the lens.

“Until I see you again, Captain America. Take care.” A genuine smile crosses your lips before the video ends, and Steve is left looking back at his own reflection, seeing a figure behind him.

“I know what you’re going to say, Buck.” Steve speaks up, focusing on his notes surrounding him. “But I’m not giving up, not yet.”

Bucky steps back as Steve turns around, seeing the hardened expression on his friends face. “I wasn’t going to suggest that,” Bucky states, crossing his arms. “but there’s something you should see.”

Following Bucky into the conference room, Steve notes everyone is already there, including Carol. “Take a seat, Cap.” Tony advises.

“What’s happened?” Steve questions as Tony brings up a video for everyone to watch.

“Earlier today, there was another attack from someone involved in Y/n’s kidnapping.” Tony explains and Steve shudders. “We know that Y/n killed this Teacher guy, but there are some others still out there.”

“They’re looking to find more like Y/n, but ones who might be more vulnerable.” Natasha speaks up as she passes over the file to Steve who looks through, noting the three teenagers they’ve discovered.

“So we need to find them before they do?” Steve looks up, seeing Tony nod.

“We don’t know the extent of their capabilities, but if they’re anything like Y/n, they’re powerful.” Tony paces around the room, pulling up old footage of you on the field, something Steve turns his gaze away from.

“Where do we start?” Sam asks as he takes the file from Steve, looking at the various locations.

Tony slides away your training footage and replaces it with a map. “Right there,” He points, zooming in and dots a small farm just outside of Texas. “that’s where we’ll find Aria, number one if you will.”

Walking out from the Quinjet, Steve is closely followed by Carol, Wanda, Natasha and Tony. “Comms in check?” Steve questions, hearing responses from everyone as they slowly make their way toward the barn.

“Aria should be inside, but be cautious.” Wanda warns as everyone splits up, taking different angles.

Glancing over her shoulder, Wanda waits for the signal before opening the door to find Aria sat on a haystack, playing with farming tools in the air.

“You shouldn’t be here.” Aria coldly states as she directs the tools toward Wanda with red filling her eyes.

Wanda lifts her hands up in defence. “Yeah, she’s definitely not wanting company.” Wanda mutters into the comms as everyone slows down, taking caution.

“Who are you?” Aria asks as she rises to her feet, dropping a few of the tools with her left hand, but keeps the pitchfork up with her right as it hovers closer toward Wanda’s neck.

“I’m a friend,” Wanda states. “and I’m here to help.” She keeps her eyes fixated on Aria. “There are people who want to hurt you, Aria. But I don’t want that to happen so, you’ve got to trust me, okay?”

“Why should I trust you, how do I know you aren’t here to hurt me?” She raises an eyebrow and Wanda sighs.

“I need backup.” Wanda speaks quietly into her comms and listens out for her team. “Because I know people like you, I have a friend like you.” Wanda begins to explain, stepping closer toward the pitchfork. “And she was hurt because of her powers, given false promises.”

Aria steps back, taking the pitchfork with her. “I’ve been promised everything.” Aria admits and Wanda freezes.

“Guys?” Wanda calls out as the doors behind Aria open up as three figures stand. “We’re too late.” She backs away, ducking as a series of objects are directed toward her.

Wanda does her best to block them off, and for the most part, it works. “Wanda!” Steve yells as he takes a hold of her, backing away from the barn as Aria walks out, her whole body glowing red as three men stand around her.

“You’re too late, Wanda.” Aria laughs. “No one can stop me, they want to make me more powerful, help me grow.” She explains with a bright smile on her face. “I won’t be some dumb kid anymore, my parents were wrong about me.”

“Aria, this isn’t you!” Steve yells as Wanda keeps them both protected with her powers, but Steve can see Wanda struggling to keep the field up.

“But this is my destiny.” Aria yells as she rises from the ground, leaving burnt grass beneath her feet as the men guarding her back away. “And no one is getting in the way of it, not anymore.” She tells them with a sinister smile, and Steve covers Wanda, waiting for the impact.

But it doesn’t follow. Instead, silence falls.

“Don’t believe everything they tell you, kid.”

Steve lifts his head up and tenses up as you stand beside him and Wanda.

You keep your eyes fixated on Aria, but you’re glowing white. “Whatever they promised you, it’s all a lie.” You warn Aria, but she shakes her head. “Let them help you, let us help you before they hurt you.” You step forward, hovering off the ground and Steve remains in disbelief.

After all this time, here you are. And you’ve never looked happier, healthier or more yourself.

“Why should I trust you? You’re with them!” Aria coldly looks down at the Avengers, but you reach out, resting your hand on her shoulder.

Everyone watches as your white glow spreads across Aria, her red pupils dulling back to brown. “Believe me now?” You mutter to her as you both fall back down to the ground, the red encapsulating Aria is gone.

“What, what happened?” Aria questions, looking around as the three men pull out guns and direct them to Aria.

You step in front of her, using your powers to disassemble their guns. “I know who sent you.” You tell the three men as the white glow in your palms flickers, growing. “And if I were you, I’d leave now with a warning to them.”

One man steps forward, watching as Steve rises to his feet, stepping closer toward you as Aria trembles behind you.

“Don’t mess with kids.” You tell them before sending a blast through his chest, watching as he is fired back into the barn, tearing part of it down with him. The other men look at one another. “You two have something to say?” You raise an eyebrow, and watch as they start to run.

Turning on your heels, you look over to Tony with a small smile who nods, running after the two men with Carol hot on his tail.

“You’re safe now, okay?” You tell Aria as she hugs you tightly. “Whatever happened, whatever they made you do, it’ll be alright. I promise.” You assure her, knowing that was the only thing that helped you heal.

Lifting your head up, you see Wanda smile to you as she holds her hand out. “Come on, Aria. I’ll get you patched up.” Wanda speaks up and Aria looks to you hesitantly, watching as you nod.

“That was certainly something,” Steve states, watching as the glow surrounding you dies down.

A small laugh leaves your lips as you face Steve after all this time. “Sorry if I got in the way of your moment.” You joke, and Steve smiles genuinely to you. “But, I kinda saved your ass.” You remind him, and Steve nods, still in shock that you’re here in front of him.

“I, I just can’t believe you’re here.” He admits as you look around the farm site, seeing Natasha picking up the guard you threw earlier and dragging him toward the Quinjet in handcuffs.

“Well, there’s only so many calls you can ignore from Tony.” You shrug a shoulder. “But when he told me there were more like me at risk,” You trail off and Steve remains quiet. “and I guess it’s about time.”

“So, how are you, really?” Steve asks you quietly, watching as you focus on him instead of avoiding his gaze.

You sigh to yourself before nodding, looking away from him. “I’m better.” You state. “I, I don’t think I’ve ever felt so in control of myself, but there’s still some things I can’t fix or change.”

Steve steps closer toward you, focusing closely for any sign of discomfort in you, but you remain still. “I’m so sorry, Y/n.” He whispers as he reaches out for your hand, feeling his heart rise as you accept it in yours.

“Please, don’t,” You mutter in response. “no more apologies. I can’t hear anymore sympathy.”

“Okay,” Steve smiles to you. “then all I want to say is thank you for coming back. And I shouldn’t have underestimated you or anything because of your age.”

Rolling your eyes, a small laugh follows suit. “We really back to the age thing, Steve?” You joke and Steve chuckles under his breath. “I couldn’t leave the Avengers forever, you’re all my family at the end of the day.”

“Does that mean you’ll come home?” He questions, nerves evident in his tone as he rests his hand on your cheek, feeling you lean into it.

Closing your eyes, you hum contently as you rest your hand on top of Steve’s. “I think it’s about time.” You smile and open your eyes, seeing Steve smiling back at you. “But there are more kids out there that need saving first, more people like me.” You explain as you look behind Steve, seeing Aria sat with Wanda.

“We’ll find them, Y/n.” Steve assures you. “Together.”

“Together. Just like we’re meant to.” You lean up, kissing Steve’s cheek as you walk back toward the Quinjet with a smile on your face, knowing it’s about time to make a difference and save those like you.

taglist for this mini series (feel free to ask if you’d like to be on this!) if you’re name is crossed through it means I couldn’t tag you

@jeanily3000 @satellitespidey @night-girls-world @lunamathias@savagittariuspy@capstopavenger@isabella212@marvelousmendess@assemble-avengers-blog @chljmntgy @leilei-draws@cazreadsstuff@keepyourdreamsalive @oais-sis @softbabypowder@disfoqia @denzmallows@beyariri@theseuscmander @a-hopeless-and-imaginative-girl@boxofteenageideas @yeeterbenjaminparker@littlewhiterose@songforhema @hawkxyes @tearsforhan @tomhardy41@capsiclesdoll @fayefayefn @aikaterrina @millenialpoems @animegirlgeeky @bucky-blogs @littledaph @17ves @mummy-woves-you @didsomeonesaybucky

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camillemontespan · 5 years ago

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ten years from now [AU. drake walker x camille montespan] [part seventeen: decisions]

Master List

Warnings: Nothing bad, just some k-i-s-s-i-n-ggg ;)

A/N: I love the above gif just because this is how I imagine Drake would kiss Camille and I tend to use it for a lot of my fics because it’s so apt. That’s all, I just wanted to share!

@moonlightgem7 @jovialyouthmusic @mskaneko @ibldw-main @katedrakeohd @pug-bitch @gooddaykate @princessleac1 @burnsoslow @loveellamae @pedudley @oofchoices @emichelle @simplymissjulia @dcbbw @sirbeepsalot @rainbowsinthestorm @notoriouscs @fromthedeskofpaisleybleakmore @axwalker @marshmallowsaremyfavorite @nomadics-stuff @gardeningourmet @marshmallowsandfire @kingliam2019 @drakeandkatherine **********************************************

Liam stared at his computer screen, trying to absorb the information in front of him but found it hard to do so. It had been a long work day and all he wanted was to get back to his apartment, cosy up and watch something on Netflix.

He was still hurt after Camille. Of course he was. But Liam had been raised to know that how someone treated you was a reflection on them; not on yourself. If Camille chose to treat him like shit, then that was on her. All Liam could do was try and get over it, which was why he had been working overtime at his job so he was distracted and busy. But he was finding that even he had a limit. His body was bone tired, exhausted.

Liam rubbed his eyes harshly and blinked hard. Maybe he should have another coffee? Or another energy drink?

‘Hey, are you coming out with us?’ a voice called out. Liam jumped at the surprise, making the person laugh. He looked over his shoulder to see the new girl of the office throwing on her coat.

‘Uhh.. I’m gonna stay and work late,’ he said.

‘You’ve been working late for the past four nights,’ she replied. ‘You deserve a drink.’

Liam sighed. Knowing she wouldn’t leave him alone, Liam logged off his computer and stood up wearily. The new girl raised her eyebrows.

‘You look like shit.’

Liam shrugged. ‘Thanks.’

She shot him a wide smile. ‘Come on then,’ she said. ‘We’re going to O’Malley’s. I’ll buy you a drink. Let me guess.. scotch?’

Liam had to smile. ‘Sounds perfect. I don’t think we’ve met? I’m Liam.’

The girl held out her hand for him to shake. ‘I’m Riley.’

***********************************************

Camille’s new routine consisted of waking up early, practicing yoga then preparing breakfast for Gisele. As Gisele had the appetite of a sparrow, she only wanted a croissant and a cup of black coffee while she read her morning paper. This Friday morning was no different.

‘Ah mon petit chou, merci..’ she breathed, taking the cup of coffee from Camille. Camille smiled and helped Gisele sit up, making sure her pillows were fluffed up and comfortable. Gisele gave her a grateful kiss on the cheek and gestured for Camille to sit on the chair by the bed.

This was what they did now. Camille loved it; she hadn’t realised how much she had missed her grandmother until she was seeing her every day. Even though Camille’s life was in New York, she sometimes felt that maybe Texas would be a better fit. She could see Gisele more often, look after her if needed. She could find a job at the law firm in town, they were always hiring. She could see Drake..

Camille cursed herself. She shouldn’t get ahead of herself, not right now. Her engagement to Liam had just been called off, it was too soon and it wasn’t respectful to Liam. She had asked Drake for baby steps and he was giving her them; Camille should follow her own rule.

Baby steps. Baby steps. Baby steps.

‘So what are you doing today?’ Gisele asked her. ‘Please, regale me with news. I’ve been sat in this bed for a week now, bored out of my mind and stiff as a board. Have you been doing any kissing?’

‘Grandma!’ Camille scolded.

Gisele shrugged. ‘You have been spending more time with Drake, I just assumed..’

‘Shhh, don’t assume!’ Camille said. ‘We’re just taking it slow.’

Gisele eyed her seriously. ‘Slow because your relationship with Liam is caput?’

What a way with words.

‘Grandma..’

Gisele sighed. ‘Darling. You know I loved Liam. I really did. So kind and handsome.. So very handsome..’

‘Grandma..’ Camille groaned.

Gisele was brought back to earth and regarded her granddaughter with a stern expression. ‘But I also want to see you happy, that’s all. You’re allowed to make mistakes and bad decisions.. Just don’t keep making them. For once, I want you to make the right decision for you so you can end up with a happy life.’

Camille frowned. ‘Are you saying Drake is a bad decision?’

Gisele sipped her coffee and looked at Camille with steely eyes over the rim. She set the cup down and shrugged her shoulders back, assuming an air of poise. ‘Far from it,’ she finally said grandly. ‘You let him leave you all those years ago, which I assume you feel was a mistake. So, don’t do it again.’

Camille chewed a hangnail; Gisele sat forward to swat her hand. ‘Don’t ruin your nails!’

Camille rolled her eyes and sat down on her hands to stop herself from getting swatted again. Gisele sipped her coffee again and gestured for Camille to speak about her plans for the day.

‘I’m seeing Drake this afternoon for a drink by Clover’s grave,’ Camille told her. ‘Then he is coming over later to help me trim the rose bushes. The thorns are getting too much.’

‘So you’re spending all day together?’ Gisele asked, turning the page of her newspaper. ‘So much for taking it slow..’

‘Grandma!’

Gisele waved her hand in the air as if she was swatting a fly. ‘Gah, fine. But if he starts trimming your rose bush, I will know allll about it-’

Camille stood up, wrinkling her nose at her grandma’s brazenness. ‘That’s it, I’m going out. Enjoy your breakfast.’

Gisele sniggered and raised her coffee cup to Camille. ‘À votre santé!’ she called to Camille’s retreating figure.

**************************************

It was Friday evening, close to 5pm. Liam once again was trying to decide if he should drink another coffee or energy drink but was interrupted by Riley.

They had gone out with their colleagues the night before for a drink at O’Malleys. Liam had worked at the company for nearly three years now and was ashamed to admit that this had been his first time going out with his colleagues in the whole time he had been there.

‘O’Malleys?’ Riley asked him, stopping at his desk. ‘I believe it’s your round..’

Liam chuckled. ‘Is it now?’

‘Yup,’ she replied, giving him a cheeky smile. ‘I like mojitos, FYI.’

Liam logged off his computer and threw on his jacket. Giving Riley a winning smile, he gave her a nod. ‘Lead the way then.’

Riley laughed and pulled him along with her to join their colleagues. The group left the office, laughing and joking, as they rushed down the street to get to the bar.

O’Malley’s was not Liam’s kind of place. For one thing, it was an Irish bar which Liam found tacky at the best of times. He preferred wine bars and fine dining restaurants; not because he was arrogant, no, far from it. He had grown up being taken to those kinds of places with his parents and so had become accustomed to a more elegant lifestyle. That was probably why he had gotten along so well with Gisele.

Liam’s heart twinged at the thought of Gisele. He had genuinely really liked Camille’s grandmother. He hoped she was recovering from her hip operation. Maybe he should send her another bouquet of roses?

He quickly pushed the idea away. He didn’t want to step on Camille’s toes.

‘Alright, Liam, your round!’ Riley called. Liam smiled and went to the bar to order Riley a mojito and beer for himself and the others. As he waited for the drinks, he turned to look over at his colleagues. Out of all them, Riley shone brightest. She was short and dark haired with pale skin but it was her confidence and laugh that pushed her to the forefront. Just by being herself meant that she was already memorable.

Liam collected the drinks and carried them on a tray to the table. Riley took her mojito and gave him a warm smile. ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘So, tell me about yourself.’

Liam chuckled. ‘Not much to tell.’

Riley sipped her mojito, looking up at him with big blue eyes. ‘Everyone’s got a story,’ she said simply. ‘What’s yours?’

Liam sipped his beer and cleared his throat awkwardly at her question. ‘Heh. I might need something stronger..’

Riley regarded him silently for a moment. Before Liam could react, she gently tapped a passing waitress on the arm.

‘Can we have two Scotch on the rocks please?’ she asked politely. ‘And keep them coming.’

**************************************

After sitting outside the ranch by Clover’s resting place and drinking beer, Drake and Camille wandered down to Camille’s grandmother’s to look at her roses. Camille had mentioned to him that the thorns were growing too unruly and she had cut herself a few times trying to tend to the flowers.

‘I’ll sort it out,’ he had told her. Drake always had to look after those he loved; he couldn’t let something lie. He was a good man that way; dependable. He would be the first to take you home after a night of drinking, ensuring you got home safe - Camille would know. He had taken Gisele to the hospital and picked up Camille from the airport. He went above and beyond his role as a friend, every single time.

‘Bonjour Gisele!’ Drake called as he entered the house with Camille.

‘Bonjour Drake!’ Gisele called back.

Giving Camille a grin, Drake shuffled through the house towards the French doors that opened out onto the garden. He let himself out into the garden and strode towards the rose bushes, crouching down to examine them.

‘Jesus, these are fucking death traps!’ he hollered.

Camille grimaced and settled down on the grass beside him. ‘I know, right?’ she said. ‘Evil.’

Drake shook his head. ‘Right, gimme the gloves.’

Camille handed him the gloves.

‘Clippers,’ he instructed, holding out his hand.

Camille handed him the rose clippers

‘Beer.’

Camille giggled and handed him a bottle of beer. Armed with his weapons, Drake got to work cutting the thorns off the rose stems so they were safe for Camile and Gisele to water. For thirty minutes in the Texas heat, he worked hard, only stopping occasionally to sip his beer and banter with Camille.

He was aware Camille was watching him intently. ‘You’re staring at me,’ he said.

Camille blushed. ‘Sorry.’

‘I know what you’re doing, Montespan. You’re checking out my ass in these jeans,’ he teased, giving her a smirk. ‘Imagining me as a gardener in one of your erotic novels.’

‘I don’t read erotic novels!’ Camille cried.

‘I saw you had one on your nightstand.’

Camille scoffed. ‘When have you ever seen my nightstand?!’

Drake turned to look up at her. ‘The night you got hammered and I had to take you home.’

Camille’s silence spoke volumes. Drake sniggered and continued to tend to the roses. Camille stepped back and continued to watch him from a safe distance.

She was thinking about her future. An imagined future. A future where Drake would tend to Gisele’s rose bushes and Camille would bring him out bottles of beer and then when his work was done, they would go inside and sit by the fire to drink whiskey, laughing and talking. They would talk until it was time for bed and they would go upstairs together, curling up under the sheets, wrapped up in each other, and all would be well.

Camille swallowed.

Baby steps. Baby steps. Baby steps.

******************************

Drake stood up and wiped the sweat off his brow. ‘Jesus, that was more difficult than I anticipated,’ he said, panting slightly.

‘I really appreciate it,’ Camille said softly. ‘Thank you.’

The warmth that flooded Drake’s face was enough to make her heart flutter. ‘No problem,’ he said. ‘Can’t have you hurting yourselves now, can I?’

Together, they went back inside. Camille quickly peered into Gisele’s bedroom and saw that she was asleep; she had little energy lately, using most of it to enquire about Camille’s love life, it seemed.

Camille brought out a bottle of whiskey and waved it at Drake. ‘Fancy a drink?’ she asked, giving him a wink.

‘Hell yeah,’ Drake said.

And so, they found themselves sat down on the couch drinking whiskey with the fire lit, casting a warm glow around the room. Camille had her legs up under herself while Drake sat on the other end of the couch. Camille chose some music as background - one of Gisele’s CDs, again it was Frank Sinatra- and together, they sat in companionable silence drinking whiskey.

‘It’s nice having you back,’ Drake said, breaking the silence.

Camille looked at him over the rim of her glass. ‘It’s nice to be back,’ she replied softly. ‘I was actually thinking earlier..’

She broke off and sipped the whiskey. Drake frowned and inched closer to her.

‘Thinking what?’

Camille bit her lip, one of her nervous habits. ‘Just thinking about how it would be if I stayed in Texas.’

Drake’s eyes widened. ‘Uhh..’ He cleared his throat. ‘Well, that would be awesome.’

‘You think so?’

Drake nodded. ‘Of course.’

It would be more than awesome. It would be amazing. Drake could picture it now. Summers on the ranch. Swimming in the lake. Drinking whiskey. Asking her out. Taking her out to a restaurant. Taking her out for drinks. Kissing her. Loving her.

But he didn’t say any of that. Instead, Drake took a long sip of his whiskey, enjoying the liquid turn to fire in his stomach, destroying the butterflies he was feeling.

Camille tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. ‘It would mean I could look after my grandma,’ she told him quietly. ‘I could work at the law firm in town. I could.. Adapt back to this life. I’ve missed Texas.’

Drake smiled. ‘I think if you really wanted to, you could make this work for you again.’

Camille nodded. ‘I could. It’s just.. What about us?’

She had asked the question that had been on her mind. The whiskey was making her more bold, more brave, more reckless.

Drake took a sharp breath. ‘Well.. I can see some pretty great things for us. Again, no pressure. Baby steps, remember?’

Camille downed her whiskey and poured herself another with shaking hands. Gently, Drake reached out to place his hand over hers. Her eyes met his.

‘We’ll go at your own pace,’ he murmured. ‘No rush.’

Camille bit her lip again. Drake’s eyes darted down, his attention caught by that one little habit. He swallowed hard. ‘Baby steps,’ he whispered. ‘Got to follow the baby steps-’

Camille’s lips collided against his. Drake made a surprised noise at the sudden movement; but when he realised she was kissing him, he sank into it. Without leaving her lips, he put his glass down on the table and ran his hands up her back, pulling her close to him so their chests were pressed up against each other.

She tasted of whiskey and watermelon lip balm. She was delicious.

His fingers laced through her hair, tangling it in his fists. Camille let out a low groan. Without a care in the world, she pushed her hands against his chest so he fell to his back; Camille straddled his hips and leaned down to kiss him again, her lips blazing a fiery trail across his cheek and down his neck.

Drake clenched her ass with his hands, holding her tight.

‘You’re so fucking gorgeous,’ he growled in her ear. Camille giggled and tugged on his lower lip with her teeth, making Drake hiss. He could feel the fire warming his body and Camille’s skin against his.

The baby steps had been cast aside. They had stopped being careful and were now drowning in each other, careless. But they had been drinking and they needed to think about this. Drake couldn’t lose her. He couldn’t abandon the baby steps and rush Camile into making any more bad decisions. If she did, she would end up feeling regret and push him away. Drake couldn’t afford to risk it, no matter how much he wanted to.

He knew she loved him because she had drunkenly said so. But he needed her to sort her head out first. Drake had to be patient. She had to come to him, sober, and tell him how she felt. Only then would Drake throw caution to the wind. Only then would Drake love her the way he desperately wanted to.

‘Camille-’

He sat up gently.

Camille frowned. ‘Are you alright?’

Drake let out a deep breath. ‘More than alright,’ he assured her. ‘But this.. This isn’t how I want us to progress. Fucking on your grandma’s couch? Not exactly romantic.. Besides, we have to consider the baby steps. I can’t.. I don’t want you to make any more decisions that you might regret.’

Camille sat back on her heels and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. ‘Sure..’ she whispered. ‘I get it.’

Drake felt his heart sink. ‘Camille..’

She smiled weakly. ‘You’re a good guy, Drake,’ she said. ‘You’re right. Baby steps. I got carried away.’

Drake shook his head. ‘We both did. Not just you. Trust me, I really want you, I do. But I know you’re dealing with a lot of shit right now. I don’t wanna add to it.’

He reached out to take her hand. Camille squeezed his gently. ‘Thank you..’ she murmured.

Drake gently pulled her into him so she lay curled up against his chest. He rested his chin on top of hers.

‘We got all the time in the world,’ he murmured. ‘All the time in the world for me to show you what we could have, okay?’

Camille let out a sigh. She reached for her whiskey and took a long sip. She knew he was right. Yet again, she had done something reckless. But wasn’t that always the case with her when it came to Drake Walker? He made her feel like she was floating above the ground, high up in the universe, lost among the galaxies and the stars. He made her feel alive. He always had.

Not for the first time, Camille reminded herself that she needed to come back to earth.

Baby steps.

They lay in silence on the couch, Camille’s back against Drake’s chest. His body was solid, muscled and broad. His arms wrapped around her, holding her close, keeping her safe. She could feel his heart beating against her back and she closed her eyes as she focused on its reassuring beat, which was telling her softly to make the right decision.

#drake x camille

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ourloveisforthelovely · 5 years ago

Text

Fix You 12

Supernatural (AU Story)

Link to Chapter 11

Words: 4,725

Pairings: Gabriel x Reader

________

Lucifer looked over his shoulder making sure that you were out of the room before turning to Gabriel.

“You need to skip to my lou my darlin and get on my side.”

“I would rather slam my hand in a drawer. Either start talking Lucifer or get lost. I have to worry about keeping my family safe.”

Lucifer looked honestly hurt.

“What am I Gabe? I'm your family too! I'm not here to raise some hell with you or make you angrier than you already appear to be. When did you get so emo? I am here because I care for you and for my kid! I want Michael to die a slow painful death as much as the next guy. Your kid in there, your kid, is in some real bad danger that you can't handle on your own.”

Gabriel stood with his arms crossed glaring at Lucifer for a few moments.

“You didn't answer my question. What did Michael specifically say about Joy and Yn?”

Lucifer leaned back in his seat at the kitchen island and held his hands up.

“What do you want me to say, Gabriel? He said he wanted to kill them and make you watch the light leave their eyes? Is that good enough for you because it freaked me the hell out! Look, Gabe, I know that we aren't pals....”

“Understatement.”

Gabriel snapped. Lucifer sighed before giving his brother an annoyed glare.

“Uh yeah! If you will keep your snark to the minimum that would be great! I want to help you! What happened to us, Gabriel? You and I were pals. We were closer than Michael and Raphael ever were. It was you and me against the world! What about all of the times that you did some of your tricks and they went bad? I took the fall for you because it killed me to see you upset. Oh Christ, look at me going over all of these feels while you just stand there!”

“Daddy?”

Both Gabriel and Lucifer froze. Gabriel looked down to see JoyAnna by his foot again. Muttering a few curse words at Lucifer in Enochian, Gabriel bent down picking Joy up.

“I told you to stay in there.”

JoyAnna gave Gabriel a disapproving expression.

“Its not nice to call someone all of those names you just called him. Daddy am I going to die?”

Gabriel's mouth dropped as he looked at his little girl's sweet face. He glanced to Lucifer who muttered “oh my dad” before standing up and turning his back. Looking back to JoyAnna, Gabriel shook his head.

“Absolutely not!”

Lucifer meanwhile, walked over and held his hands out. Joy didn't fight when Lucifer took her from Gabriel's arms. Gabriel half expected Joy to try to bite Lucifer. He walked across the kitchen

“Sweetheart, let me tell you about this big dummy named Michael. A long long time ago, before you were even thought of, it was Michael, your Jimmy Buffet loving Uncle Raphael, your daddy, and me in heaven. Michael was the biggest bossiest meanie head. Your daddy and I used to play ricks on him. One time your daddy even dyed his wings pink. Let's just say it wasn't his color, sweetheart. Anyway, the point of this story, we are ten times more powerful than Michael. He may have some goons and morons at his disposal but its nothing we can't handle. Your daddy and those other people around here won't let anything happen to you. I won't either. Deal?”

JoyAnna glanced at Gabriel. The expression on his face still made her nervous. She knew that her dad was super wary about everything that Lucifer was saying. Turning her head back to her uncle, JoyAnna smiled.

“Deal.”

About that time the door opened and Jack walked in. He froze the moment that he spotted Lucifer holding his cousin. Right away Jack was ready to freak out. He immediately turned to Gabriel.

“What are you thinking?”

He half yelled. Lucifer meanwhile, smiled seeing Jack. He smiled genuinely.

“Jack. It's so good to see you.��

Gabriel meanwhile, looked at his nephew with exhausted eyes before walking over and pulling him out of the room by his shirt. Lucifer gave Joy a smile.

“Everyone is so friendly here.”

JoyAnna giggled.

“You must really be on something Uncle Luci.”

Meanwhile, Jack angrily pulled away from Gabriel as his uncle closed the door behind him.

“You let him in here and near Joy! Near me!”

Gabriel held a hand up.

“Cool it junior! Look, he was the one that told us about Michael. I'm keeping my eyes on him and Cas is too. If he puts a toe out of line I will gladly kill him. He knows where we stand. You need to trust me on this one. I've been around a lot longer and know what can happen, feel me? I need you to chill. I'm not asking you to go and be his pal. In fact, go be an ass for all I care but don't you dare think that I would intentionally put Joy or you in any danger.”

Jack looked down before nodding.

“I'm sorry.”

Gabriel nodded, motioning to the door with his head.

“Its fine, go on.”

Jack looked at his uncle a moment longer. He realized that there was more to what was going on then what Gabriel was telling him.

“Gabriel?”

“Just go.”

He replied. Gabriel's voice was calm but there was an edge to it that Jack wasn't used to. The boy turned and left his uncle alone in the laundry room.

Jack didn't look at Lucifer as he walked back through the kitchen. He could only hope that Gabriel knew what he was talking about!

Later that night, after you put Joy to bed, you sat quietly beside Gabriel listening to everything that Lucifer had told him earlier. You put a hand on her your head trying to take everything in. Lucifer looked at you sympathetically.

“I know its a lot to take in.”

You scoffed.

“A little...Michael is a fool to think that he can get much out of a little girl.”

Lucifer raised an eyebrow.

“A powerful little girl. Forgive me for saying so darlin but Michael could mold her to do whatever he wanted. If he got you and Gabriel out of the way well....his field day.”

Meanwhile upstairs...

JoyAnna lay sleeping when a soft fluttering noise caught her attention. She turned over to see a young man standing beside her bed. With a frown, she reached over to turn the light but he snapped his hands stopping her.

“You must be JoyAnna. My my you really are a cutie!”

Joy rubbed her eyes.

“Who are you? Don't you think it's a little rude to be materializing in people's bedroom?”

The man chuckled.

“You are sarcastic, just like your father.”

Joy didn't like the way the man mentioned anything related to Gabriel. There was something sneeringly cold in his voice.

“Yeah, well you get what you get. Who are you anyway?”

The man smiled.

“I'm your uncle Michael. I've come to see you.”

Joy's mouth dropped and she looked around nervously.

“Uh why aren't your wings pink?”

Michael's pleasant expression went negative.

“Lovely, you heard that story.”

Joy nodded as she snapped her fingers sending the archangel flying across the room and into the wall. It took maybe two seconds for the door to slam open. Gabriel and Jack stood in the doorway. Both of their expressions went from panicked to straight pissed off. Jack quickly ran to Joy yanking her into his arms as Gabriel stepped between them looking down at Michael.

“Jeez Mikey. Did a little girl knock you on your ass? Doesn't say much for your so-called skills.”

Michael growled angrily before jumping up and landing a punch in Gabriel's face. Gabriel shook off the impact after a few moments. He was able to land more punches on Michael. Glancing over his shoulder he could see Jack with a petrified Joy in his arms.

“Jack get her out of here!”

He yelled as Joy began screaming for him over and over again. The moment that Michael slammed a knife into his shoulder, Joy really began to cry. Gabriel looked down at the kitchen knife with a bemused expression.

“A steak knife? Really Michael? Do you think that would really hurt me? Must have lost your touch, big brother. Might want to take that to the Texas Roadhouse that you stole it from.”

Michael blinked before growling angrily.

“I'll be back.”

Michael snapped his fingers instantly disappearing.

“What the hell is going on in here?”

Gabriel and Jack turned to Lucifer and yourself. Both stopped seeing the blood oozing out of the wound in Gabriel's shoulder.

“Gabe?”

You managed to get out as Jack quickly walked from the room trying to calm his little cousin down. Gabriel glanced over at your panicked expression. Lucifer looked at tad nervous himself.

“It was Michael. That fucker stabbed me with a steak knife! Can you believe that shit?”

After another moment or two the wounds had healed themselves leaving Gabriel back to the way he looked before. You walked over cupping his face in your hands.

“Gabriel, what were you thinking? He could have killed you.”

Gabriel smacked your hands away.

“It was me or the kid. You want me to grow up and be the dad that I am supposed to be one minute. Now you want me to be more careful! You are gonna have to pick one, peach, because I can't do everything!”

You looked down at the ground. Sure, Gabriel was hyped up on adrenaline and probably didn't mean what he said. You stood a moment longer before walking from the room. It was probably best that the two of you be apart for a moment.

Lucifer looked after you before looking back to Gabriel who was trembling.

“Uh, was that the best thing that you could come up with? I think she was worried about you?”

Gabriel growled.

“She always worried about me! I walk by a black cat, she worries. I walk under a ladder, I can't leave the house for a damn moment. She treats me like a baby.”

Lucifer raised an eyebrow.

“Bro you are kinda acting like one. Can't believe that I am being the sane one here but she's your girl. It's in her job description.”

Gabriel looked up at his brother's face.

“I guess I can be hard on her. This crap situation is just making me nutty.”

Lucifer shrugged.

“From what little me old me gathered you two have the bad habit of running from each other when the tough gets going. Maybe it's time that you two go your merry ways and you can co parent little short stuff in peace. The kid is gonna figure out what's going on soon enough if she doesn't already. Y/n is a nice girl but I don't think that we, as archangels, are meant to be with anyone...cute nephilim included. Well later, I'm going to watch me some reality TV...wanna watch some people whose lives are bigger train wrecks than mine.”

You sat on the couch trying to ignore that sinking feeling about your relationship with Gabriel.. Yet again he had proven you right. You had thought after the little heart to heart things would be okay. Gabriel himself had even seemed so hopeful. He had even reminded her of the Gabriel that you had fallen in love with.

“Hi there”

You looked up seeing Lucifer walk into the room. Great! This was the last person that you wanted to deal with! You only nodded as Lucifer sat down.

“So... just curious but is why happened up there normal?”

You shrugged.

“It’s the new normal.”

Lucifer raised an eyebrow.

“I’m a good listener. I know that’s probably contradicting everything you have heard about me.”

You smirked before leaning back into the couch.

“Let me get this straight, you want to hear about mine and Gabriel’s problems?”

Lucifer nodded happily.

“I did tell Gabriel that was I was going to watch reality TV. He doesn’t have to know that I am actually listening to his business.”

You tried not to laugh. You were seriously having a therapy session with Satan. This has to be a new one!

“Well okay. If you don’t have anything better to do. Things were good. Where is the keyword. I guess everything changed when I got pregnant. After that, it’s gone downhill. Think about an airplane just going alone then all of a sudden BAM nose dive! Ever since then it’s just not good. Gabriel and I have a problem with running when things get bad. He ran when I got pregnant then I ran when Amara broke our bond because I just knew our love wasn’t the same. There you go Luci. That is the PG version of the disaster known as mine and Gabe’s relationship.”

Lucifer blinked a few times.

“Gabe left when he knocked you up?”

You nodded as she took on Lucifer’s annoyed expression.

“Something like that. His time away included strippers, porn stars, and a heaping amount of liquor that makes my liver hurt thinking about it. I just don’t think he was ready for that at the point. He’s changed though. I think he saw the error in his decision making. He does really well with Joy and I am proud of him as a father.”

Lucifer started to speak several times. Each time he would stop himself with a sassy finger shake.

“I have been dying to know my son and Gabriel just walked away from his child and pregnant wife? Oh my dad! You wouldn’t tell from the way he is with her now. He watches every move that child makes. Amara is loose too?”

The freaked out expression on Lucifer’s face was enough to make you worry.

“Yes but she’s good! She’s been taking care of JoyAnna and I for quite some time.”

Lucifer was quite a moment longer.

“So that means my dad knows about everything?”

You winced.

“Yes, he’s slightly afraid of Joy. He sends her a nice card and gift on her birthday and at other random times of the year but he mostly stays away. I think that he is afraid that Joy will bite him.”

Lucifer laughed hard!

“After seeing Joy throw Michael across the room like a doll apparently, I would be concerned too. He probably has his panties in a pinch because he didn’t actively create Joy. He gets jealous when he isn’t the center of all good ideas! I think I know how to fix your and Gabe's problems.”

You raised an eyebrow before sitting up a little straighter.

“Yeah, do share because I am at a fucking loss.”

Lucifer grinned and started bouncing in his seat like an excited child.

“Okay, so you go and buy you some lingerie, tie his ass to a chair, give him a lap dance. It's hard to be mad when you have a hot half-naked woman rolling all over you. You know what? Let’s get out of here for a bit. I can tell you haven’t smiled in a while. Let's go find something to tease that brother of mine with. I have a good eye for all things lustful.'

You blinked a few times. The idea of going out with Lucifer for a bit was concerning and the idea of going lingerie shopping with him screamed bad idea! However, if he could fix yours and Gabriel's problems it was worth a shot! Anything was worth a shot at this point!

“What about Gabe?”

Lucifer shrugged.

“That stick in the mud will be fine. He’s acting a little out of character if you ask me.”

You glanced up the stairs waiting for Gabriel to appear at the mention of his name. When he didn’t, you looked back to Lucifer.

“Well you aren’t quite what I was expecting either.”

Lucifer stood. He could see why Gabriel was so over the moon for you. You were definitely a beautiful girl!

“We wear many hats.”

He reached out grabbing your arm and took them out of the room instantly.

Meanwhile, Gabriel had sat down on Joy’s bed and was looking miserably at his feet. The last thing that he wanted to do was really think that the two of you were ruined as a couple. It couldn’t happen! He loved you too much! The thought alone of you being with another man-made Gabriel want to go into a jealous rage.

The electricity in the room began to surge as Gabriel's anger began to increase.

“Gabriel stop. Cas and I are trying to watch a show.'

Dean called from across the hall. Gabriel's head snapped up as he stood and walked down the hall. He had to do something and quick! Walking into the living room, Gabriel frowned as noticed the sheet of paper lying on the couch.

“Borrowed your wife. Don't worry no freaky shit is happening! ~Lucifer.”

Gabriel was so close to losing his shit that he had almost lost all grip on reality until he heard Cas behind him.

“Gabriel, I have a theory on how to deal with....why are you angry?”

Gabriel turned around to face Dean and Cas who were watching him with a worried expression. He sighed, swallowing the rage that was going through him.

“Lucifer took off with Y/n.”

Dean's mouth dropped.

“Like what kind of taking off are we talking about?”

Gabriel rolled his eyes.

“Not like that you idiot! It could be like that for all I know. I swear if that ass hat touches her I am going all out military on him.”

Dean looked over his shoulder making sure that there was no sign of JoyAnna around.

“Dude I don't know how many times we have to have this conversation with you. Whatever is going on between you and Y/n, it needs to get fixed. I get that you are going through some stuff but you two are going to have to work it out. What's going on man?”

Gabriel groaned before sitting down on the couch. He was quiet for a moment and Dean started to say his name but was stopped.

“I heard you!! All of this crap, everything that is going on...I guess it has me not being the friendliest me that I normally am. I snapped at her a bit ago when that crap with Micheal happened. She didn't deserve that. Y/n doesn't deserve any of it. And I wonder why she avoids me and is crying all the time.”

Dean and Cas looked between each other. Both had to agree with Gabriel there. If he would have cooled his heels and didn't say stupid stuff in your presence then you probably wouldn't have left and they would be safe in the bunker.

“Do you want us to make a response?”

Dean asked casually. Gabriel's eyes flickered up to him.

“No, because I know what you are going to say. I've been a shit excuse for a husband.”

Dean pressed his lips together to keep himself from talking. Gabriel meanwhile, rolled his eyes.

“Go ahead Dean before you explode.”

Dean started all at once…

“Yeah, you kind of are. You're a decent dad though. I'll give you that. You just need to work on that temper that you have suddenly developed before you ruin Joy's impression on what a healthy relationship should be like. I know that I am not one to talk but you're her dad and Y/n is her mom. She watches you two more than you know. Do you really want your daughter thinking about what you have with Y/n is healthy?”

Gabriel shook his head looking down like a child that had been reprimanded by a parent.

“No, it's worse than you think.”

“What do you mean?”

Cas questioned.

“She asked me yesterday if I even loved Y/n at all. Evidently, she heard us having some words and you get the idea. Y/n and I almost....ALMOST had our issues worked out? Like we actually sat down and talked then this. I lost my temper again.”

Dean and Cas exchanged worried winces.

“For what it's worth I like you better as a trickster.”

Dean said with an innocent smile. Gabriel actually smiled at that.

“Yeah, so do I. I guess you can see why I left heaven now. Being an archangel isn't fun.”

All three men instantly stopped talking upon hearing the sound of JoyAnna's feet coming down the stairs.

“Time to end this conversation.”

Cas quickly stated as Joy walked in. She walked to Gabriel and climbed on his lap.

“Daddy, I had the weirdest dream last night.”

Gabriel felt a sense of relief wash over him when Joy said those words. The poor kid thought everything was a dream! That could definitely work in his favor!

“Yeah?”

JoyAnna nodded as she reached out and pushed Gabriel's shirt away from his neck. Gabriel gave Cas, who looked like he could panic, a wink.

“What are you doing, kiddo?”

JoyAnna leaned back giving Gabriel a careful look.

“Oh nothin...just looking for something.”

When she didn't see any wounds on her father's shoulder, Joy slid off of his lap.

“I'm going to go play. It was just a dream. All good.”

Once she was out of the room Dean turned back to Gabriel. The archangel looked satisfied that his little lie had appeased the child.

“Very smooth. That wouldn't have worked if she was older.”

Gabriel shrugged. He stood up and started looking around for his jacket.

“Yeah, well right now I am the best thing since Swiss cheese to her and I can convince her all of that was a nasty dream. She doesn’t know all of the weird injuries that I have had in my life. Can you two keep an eye on her? I just had a truly genius idea.”

Cas shrugged.

“Sure, it isn't like I plan on going anywhere. What are you going to do?”

Gabriel turned with a smile.

“Going to see dear old dad and work my magic.”

Before Dean and Cas could ask further questions the archangel had vanished. Dean turned to Cas with an eye roll.

“Dude, seriously The Bold and the Beautiful has nothing on this place.”

Seconds later, Gabriel stood in the middle of a sparsely decorated office. Chuck sat a few feet away typing away on a computer when he looked up. He was clearly surprised to see his youngest son and the condition that he was in.

“Gabriel, what are you doing here? You look awful!”

Gabriel smirked.

“Jeez thanks dad! I know I don't look up to my normal regal standards but that's what happens when your soulmate bond is literally ripped from you. You get this hollow feeling inside of you and feel like you like one of those 18 wheelers keep running you over.”

Chuck winced. The icy cold expression on Gabriel's face instantly made Chuck regret in letting Amara have her way to fix problems.

“Is there anything that I can do? It's kinda sad seeing you like this. You were always the happiest of my archangels. Now you remind me of your brothers.”

Gabriel laughed coldly.

“Oh you have no idea but yes you can fix mine and Y/n’s bond. You can also lock Amara's ass back up in the wherever. I've lost so much and I'm about to lose Y/n for real. If you love me at all you'll do it. You think that I am miserable now...just wait until I lose the woman I love.”

Chuck stood giving him that parental look of contempt that being black mailed.

“Gabriel, are you really trying that with me? You haven't tried that since you were young.”

Gabriel smirked.

“I figured screaming and kicking wouldn't do me much good. Although with JoyAnna has shown me some wonderful things that I should have done.”

Chuck smiled.

“Ah those are the bonus I love dad days. Best days in the world....having to go behind you all cleaning up whatever it was you did.”

Gabriel shook his head.

“Nah, it was Lucifer and I cleaning up each other’s mess then listening to Raphael and Michael bitch us out. I don't know where you were unless you wanted me to deliver messages of divine content.”

Chuck looked a little taken back at that. He could clearly see that Gabriel was still hostile with him and there wasn't much that he could do to change that!

“I'll fix your bond. I can see how you much you truly love the nephilim.”

Gabriel's golden eyes narrowed.

“Her name is Y/n! If you are going to talk about her at least call her by name. Do you think she likes being referred to as a half breed?”

Chuck was silent a moment.

“Son, like it or not, half breed is what she is. It seems to me that it is you that is uncomfortable with what your wife is. Y/n seems perfectly fine with it.”

Gabriel meanwhile, was trying to stop himself from exploding.

“You don't know anything about her because you won't give her a chance. You won't get to know her or JoyAnna! Dad, you are so scared of them because you didn't fully create them! I'm perfectly fine with what Y/n is. You don't know what it was like for her growing up as a nephilim. I do.”

Chuck watched his son carefully. In all the millennia that the earth had been around, he never expected to see this amount of seriousness in his youngest archangel. However, here Gabriel stood completely proving him wrong.

“When you get home, your bond will be repaired.”

A couple of hours later, you returned home after a rather eventful morning with Lucifer. After he took you out to breakfast to make sure that he “fed the human” he decided that he wanted to go to IKEA to mess with people. You stood watching him hide in random wardrobes before popping out to scare the shit out of people and the lingerie shopping.

“This is good fun.”

He said with an excited smile earning a baffled expression from you.

“You know Lucifer, I really wasn't expecting all of this. I expected you to be more....evil.”

Lucifer shrugged.

“Well I can be. I can be a royal prick if I want but I can also have a good time. Where do you think Gabe got his skills from? We used to have a really good time.”

Lucifer got a nostalgic expression on his face that made you feel guilty. Part of you was concerned with trusting him. The other part felt guilty. It was painfully obvious that he was missing his little brother and Gabriel wasn't making any effort in helping with that problem.

Walking into the kitchen, Lucifer turned back to you.

“I think I am going to go back out for some drinks maybe after that I will get an epiphany on how to deal with my kid in there.”

You him an apologetic expression.

“Good luck with that. Lucifer thanks for everything today. That really helped get me out of my head. I can talk to Jack if you want?”

Lucifer shook his head.

“Nah, I'll figure it out. I'm the king of darkness after all. If I can't figure this out I may be losing my touch. Later.”

Lucifer vanished with a small wave. You meanwhile, turned and walked up the stairs, it was time to put your genius plan into place...

________

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#Supernatural #Gabriel x Reader #Supernatural Fan Fiction #Dean Winchester #Sam Winchester #Cas #Jack Kline #Michael #Lucifer #Gabriel fan fiction #Supernatural reader insert #reader insert #Fix You #Fix You rewrite

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krystleh21610-blog · 5 years ago

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seriestrash · 7 years ago

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Joyeux Noël

❄ Day Ten ❄

A/N: **Complete AU** Another one!! I know!! Junior year!! Riley and Lucas have never met!! Lucas doesn’t even live in America!! More ballerina Riley!! Angela!! GM Hurricane never happened!! As in Shawn and Angela have never had a reunion!! The rest will be explained in the fic!! Maybe!! I hope!!

Summary: After studying abroad for the beginning for her Junior year, Riley finds herself stuck in Paris over winter break. Topanga reaches out to an old friend who lives in the city and Riley finds herself on a Parisian adventure.

Word Count: 7052

❄ ❄ ❄ ❄ ❄ ❄ ❄ ❄ ❄ ❄

Riley Matthews is in her junior year of high school and since the school year began she’s been studying abroad in Paris. This opportunity came about when Riley’s two closest friends, Maya and Farkle sent an audition tape to a prestige ballet academy on her behalf.

What started as a way for the clumsy child to learn some balance, turned into a passion for the brunette and ever since Riley’s very first dance lesson she’s ate, slept and breathed ballet.

Although Riley adores her new school and wakes up every morning for class and rehearsals like she's the luckiest and most unworthy girl alive, she has been looking forward to a break. Not from dancing, Riley was constantly dancing and Christmas wouldn’t stop that but she was looking forward to spending time with her family and friends whom she misses dearly.

A cruel twist of fate sees all the brunettes hopes for a Christmas in New York shattered when all flights out of the country were cancelled on the day before Christmas Eve due to severe weather which was uncharacteristic for this time of year.

Riley spends a very upset phone call to her mother at the airport as she tries to sort things out. Eventually Topanga concludes that there’s really nothing she can do but wait for now.

“Honey, there’s nothing we can do but wait and hope the weather clears up in enough time to get you on a flight home for Christmas.” Topanga says sympathetically.

“But Christmas Eve tomorrow.” Riley frowns.

“I know, Riley.” Topanga is upset too over this. “But there is literally nothing we can do. I’d rather not have you home for Christmas than fly in dangerous weather. I’m sorry.”

“What am I supposed to do?” Riley questions. “School is open for the holidays but it will be me and the groundskeeper.”

“I will call Angela. I’m sure she’ll be happy to have you stay with her until we can get you home.” Topanga says.

Riley lets out a groan. “But mom, I don’t even know her.”

“Riley she was my best friend growing up, she was like a sister to me.”

“But the first time you spoke to her since before I was born was when I first arrived in Paris.” Riley challenges.

“And I’ve spoken to her regularly since.” Topanga understands her daughter is upset but she still doesn’t appreciate the attitude.

Eventually Riley hangs up the phone call with a sigh. Riley has her bags and finds somewhere to eat at the airport whilst she waits for Angela to collect her. Riley had never met Angela in person, she only knew her from stories and she heard that Topanga had reached out to her after they got Riley enrolled in school. Cory and Topanga has asked if they could list her as an emergency contact being so close and all. Angela was surprised to hear from her old friends but happy to accept.

Riley’s sulking at the airport when she recognises the woman approaching her from old photographs of her parents.

“Riley?” Angela asks as she reaches her.

“Yep.” Riley sheepishly waves.

“You look so much like your parents.” Angela says with an amazed expression.

After Angela gives Riley an awkward hug she leads her to the car and helps load her bags. They set on their way and Angela tries to fill in the awkward silence.

“I know you don’t really know me but your parents and I have so much history.” she says.

“From what my Uncle Shawn’s told me you could have been my aunt.” Riley says and it comes off ruder than she meant it. Part of it was her sticking up for her uncle because she knew how heartbroken he was when Angela left and part of it was just from Riley’s distaste to the whole predicament in general. Still she apologises. “Sorry.” Riley says.

Angela gives her a small smile and lets it slide knowing Riley is upset. “And from what your mom has told me Shawn’s married your best friends mom.”

Riley is quiet. She never thought of if that way, if Shawn ended up with Angela he might never have become a father to Maya.

“You’re married now aren't you?” Riley questions more politely as she was trying to make up for being rude.

“I am. For about six years now.” Angela smiles. “Jerry is in the military so he’s away quite a bit but I was brought up by a military father so I’m used to it. We have a nine month old daughter Margret or Maggie.”

"Is Jerry home for the holidays?” Riley asks as she continues to try and make nice with her estranged could have been aunt.

“He is.” Angela wears a big smile as she drives. “He got in a few days ago.”

“How lovely.” Riley grins.

“My godson Lucas also lives with us and he’s only a year older than you.” Angela explains. “His flight tonight back to Texas was also cancelled so he’s in a similar boat to you. I know it sucks but at least you’ll have some age appropriate company until you can get home.”

“Lucky me.” Riley lets out a breath and the remainder of the car ride was quiet.

❄

Riley’s boarding school is in Paris but not within the city limits so she’s seen a few of the main landmarks Paris city has to offering day, during her first week there but that’s about it.

Angela lives in a lovely apartment on the outskirts of the city. Riley can admire the beauty of the architecture around her without even having to have any known landmarks in sight. Although the beauty was something Riley enjoyed it wasn’t enough to life her mood.

Riley enters the quaint looking apartment to discover it’s actually rather spacious inside and breathtakingly beautiful. There’s a continuous flow of timber herringbone floorboards, pure white walls and ceilings with detailed skirts and trims and lovely plush furniture to dress it all up. Not to mention the Christmas decor was stunning throughout.

“Your home is beautiful.” Riley says in awe.

“Thank you.” Angela says with a proud little grin. “I’m an interior decorator so I did it myself.”

“You're very good at your job.” Riley says with a sweet smile.

“Thank you.” Angela says again with a softer smile. A many holding a baby comes out to greet them. Angela introduces her husband and daughter before she goes on to show Riley around the apartment, pointing her in the direction of the bathroom etc.

“You’ll stay in Lucas’ room. I’ll change the sheets for you now but you can get settled.” Angela leads the way. “There’s a small balcony off the room. There’s no view of the eiffel tower but I still find the street pretty to look at all the same.”

“That’s lovely but I honestly don’t mind sleeping on the sofa.” Riley is genuine. “I’d hate to put anyone out.”

“Don’t be silly.” Angela says with a kind smile. “You’re a guest and I know Lucas won’t mind crashing in the living room for a few nights.”

Riley nods and Angela knocks on the door, she quickly deduces Lucas isn't back yet. Angela explains that Lucas is hardly ever in when schools out because he favours the outdoors so much.

They enter the room and Angela insists Riley put her bags down whist she strips the bed. Riley does just that and takes a moment to look around the room. It has the the Parisian fixtures the rest of the apartment had but it’s dressed liked a typical boys room.

Riley takes it upon herself to step out onto the balcony with pretty iron balustrade. Riley admires the view as she’s looking down at the street she meets the confused gaze of a handsome boy around her age. Riley wanders back into the room and helps Angela fit new sheets to the bed even though she protested about it. Riley insists and they finish it together.

It’s not long after that a new voice flows through the apartment.

“Angie? Jerry?” He calls.

“Lucas, honey I’m in your room.” Angela calls back.

“I could have sworn I saw someone on my-” Lucas reaches his door and spots the stranger standing beside his godmother. “Hello.”

“Hi.” Riley says sheepishly.

“Lucas, this is Riley,” Angela introduces. “Do you remember how I told you about my friends from high school, Cory and Topanga?” Lucas nods and Angela continues, “This is their daughter.”

“Oh right. Nice to meet you.” Lucas nods politely but he’s still confused.

“Riley’s flight home to New York was cancelled so she’s going to stay with us until she can get home.” Angela explains.

“I’m sorry.” Lucas says genuinely. “What brings you to France in the first place?”

“I go boarding school a little bit outside of the city.” Riley says and she’s starting to feel nervous after meeting so many new people. It’s beginning to sink in that she’s essentially staying with complete strangers.

“Don’t be modest, Riley.” Angela nudges her arm gently. “Riley’s a dancer,” She turns to Lucas, “And from what her mothers told me she’s a very good one.”

“Cool.” Lucas says with an intrigued smile.

“Well I’ll let you two get acquainted.” Angela says. “Riley, if you need absolutely anything I’ll be in my office so don’t hesitate to ask, alright?”

Riley gives her a small nod and with that she disappears down the hall. Riley and Lucas stand there awkwardly for a moment before Riley quietly says, “Sorry for stealing your room.”

“It’s okay.” Lucas chuckles. “Sorry you’re missing out on holiday time with your family.” And he genuinely was, Lucas could tell Riley’s mood was definitely down about it.

“You're in the same boat.” Riley says.

“I guess.” Lucas shrugs nonchalantly and it strikes Riley as odd.

“I don’t know if you have a laptop or whatever but you can use my computer on the desk to video chat with your family or friends or something.”

“Thanks, that would be great actually.” Riley smiles.

Lucas nods too with a grin of his own and again they’re just standing there awkwardly. Riley gives Lucas a funny look and realisation suddenly crosses his face.

“Right,” He laughs nervously, “I’ll leave you alone now. I’ll be in the living room - AKA my new suite - if you need me.”

“Thanks again.” Riley says. “If you want your room for anything feel free to kick me out.”

“It’s all yours.” Lucas says.

“Thanks.” Riley repeats.

“You’re welcome.” Lucas smiles and Riley gives him another funny look and it elicits another goofy chuckle from him.

“Right, I was going. Bye.” Lucas shakes his head and quickly makes his exit from the room.

Riley brushes off their strange encounter and sits herself at the desk against the wall in the room. She switches on his computer and is thankful there was no password that would mean she had to awkwardly call for Lucas to come back and tell her.

As the screen loads Riley finds herself smiling at the desktop picture. It’s Lucas and two other people taken selfie style. There’s a girl with beautiful tight brown curls kissing his cheek and another boy on the other side wearing a silly pout.

Riley loads her own messenger and calls Maya without caring what time it was for her in New York. Riley was just hoping some FaceTime with her best friend would be enough to lift her spirits.

The blonde answers within the first two rings. It turns out it’s only a little after 10pm back home. Maya had been filled in on the news of Riley’s flight cancellation by Topanga and she’s been just as bummed out about it as Riley. Well maybe not as bummed since she was at home with her family for Christmas but she was still missing her bestie like crazy.

The girls quickly enter a sulky conversation about their misfortune and how much they miss each other. Riley pleas for Maya to apply to art school in the city so they can be close to each other and Maya says she doesn’t regret for a second helping Riley with this opportunity, she just hates that it’s so far away.

Before they know it it’s hours later and Riley feels worse about things than before. Maya is interrupted when Katy comes into her room saying how it’s almost 2am. Maya begs for five more minutes and Riley apologises on the other end of the line.

It’s only moments later that Riley’s interrupted by a faint knock on the door. She says come in and Lucas pokes his head through.

“Sorry to bother you I just wanted to get a change of clothes.” He says.

“Of course.” Riley says. “It’s your room.”

“Thanks.” Lucas smiles and he walks in view of the camera on his way to the closet. “I’m also here to tell you that there’s some dinner ready if you’re hungry.”

“Now who is that?” Maya questions after having seen the Texan cross the screen.

“She does know I can hear her right?” Lucas laughs nervously as he takes some comfier clothes from the drawers in his closet.

“Yep.” Maya says and she’s wearing a grin that Riley can see on the screen.

“She’s just bolder than most people.” Riley laughs nervously too and gives Maya a look pleading for her to stop.

“Right.” Lucas laughs again as he makes his way back out of the room. “Like I said there’s food if you’re hungry.”

“Thanks but I’m okay.” Riley half smiles. “But I’ll still come out and say goodnight. I’m kind of tired after today.”

“Understandable.” Lucas nods and with that he was gone.

“Well staying in Paris can’t be that bad if he’s there.” Maya chuckles. “Do explain.”

“He’s Angela’s godson, he lives with her... I don't know why.” Riley shrugs. “But I can’t talk about it because it’s rude and I have to go.”

“Conveniently!” Maya sends a knowing look through the camera.

“Love you, Peaches.” Riley says with sadness in her heart. “I miss you.”

“You too, Riles. Hurry home.” The blonde wears a sad expression too.

“If only I could have a say in that.” Riley frowns and shortly after they end the call.

After politely excusing herself from dinner Riley retreats back to Lucas’ room and changes into something sleep appropriate before flopping down on the fresh bed sheets. As Riley sinks her head into the pillows the covers give off a relaxing lavender scent and Riley wonders if all of Angela’s linen smelt this lovely. After another quick phone call with her parents, Riley passes out for the night.

She wakes early the next morning as her natural body clock is used to very early rises at her dance academy for morning training. Unable to fall back asleep, Riley wanders into the main of the living room. She spots Lucas still snoozing on the sofa and despite how comfortable he looked, Riley still felt guilty for putting him out. Riley reaches the kitchen and finds Angela fixing baby Maggie a bottle.

In a soft whisper Angela asks Riley how she slept and tells Riley to help herself to anything she’d like for breakfast. Riley thanks Angela and makes a few goofy faces at the baby because even in a sulky state she couldn’t resist a babies cuteness. Riley has a piece of fruit and a glass of water and she quietly chats with Angela over breakfast. By now Riley had softened up to the idea of getting to know her mother’s high school best friend and she found it interesting to learn about her life since parting ways with Shawn and her parents, the move to France and everything in between.

After Jerry wakes and quietly takes the baby, Angela excuses herself to do some work in her office but tells Riley that Lucas can take her out today if she pleases. Riley smiles at the offer but had no intentions of taking it. Riley says she might go for a run and Angela tells her to be safe whilst she’s out.

Whilst Riley’s out on a run she sticks close to the building as she was unfamiliar with the area. Back in the apartment, Lucas finally wakes up. Angela’s in her office and Jerry was enjoying some quality time with his baby after being away on base for so long.

Lucas casually approaches his room and notices the door is open. He cautiously peaks through and notices his room is vacant and the bed is neatly made and everything. With a confused expression Lucas continues to casually look around the apartment before deducing that Riley wasn’t in. He very well could have just asked Angela where she was but he didn’t want to come across as weird for wondering. Lucas uses this opportunity to get himself some new clothes for the day.

When Riley finally returns she’s managed to work up a sweat even despite how cold it was out there. Even though there was bad weather around the airport, they were lucky the weather wasn’t dangerous within the city.

Lucas is sitting on the sofa ready for the day, his temporary bedding has been packed away. He greets Riley as she passes and she’d rather be anywhere else as she felt pretty gross from exercising. Lucas says he had plans with some friends from school for lunch and invites her along. Riley politely rejects and says she didn’t feel like doing much. It was evident she was still bummed about not being able to fly home. Lucas doesn’t bother her any further and Riley retreats to Lucas’ room to prepare for a shower.

After Riley freshens up she changes into her usual ballet practice ensemble but before beginning her routine she takes the time to check in with her parents even though it’s very early for them, they sadly tell Riley it still looks like no flights will be getting out until after Christmas. After ending the call, Riley’s hit with a new wave of disappointment so she begins going through her usual practice routine, the same kind she’d be doing at home if she was there. Dancing always made her feel better. Riley uses music on her phone and headphones for focus as she repetitively goes over her steps.

Riley’s in her own little world for hours as she continues to practices her ballet. Even though it was tiring, Riley enjoyed it thoroughly. She’s still tuning out the world with her headphones and she doesn’t hear Lucas knock on the door multiple times. After three loud knocks and no response, Lucas figures Riley must be out so he opens the door. Lucas is surprised to find Riley was in fact in the room, her back is to him as she’s gracefully standing on the tips of her toes, she still hadn’t even registered Lucas’ presence. Lucas got caught up in the moment and he was fascinated with her graceful swaying as she switched between the five basic stances. Riley then pirouettes and as turns she notices Lucas and very embarrassed, she stumbles out of her usually perfect spin. Riley pulls the headphones from her ears and Lucas is apologising profusely.

“I’m so sorry.” Lucas says. “I knocked a few times and you didn’t answer so I assumed you were out-” He stops as he was speaking very quickly. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Riley says and her heart is racing faster than usual. “I couldn’t hear you, you spooked me.”

“Sorry.” Lucas says again.

“It’s fine.” Riley assures him. “Did you need your room for something? I can go.”

“No, it’s fine.” Lucas is smiling goofily. “You can keep doing what you were doing I was just coming to get a video game to play in the living room.”

“Are you sure you don’t want your room?” Riley questions. “I can warm down in the living room and you can play your game in here.”

“I have friends over and as sure as I am that they would enjoy watching you warm down I think I’ll let you have the privacy of the room.” Lucas chuckles and immediately he regrets his words. “That sounded creepier than it should have, sorry.”

After embarrassing himself, Lucas finds the game and hurries out of the room. Riley closes the door and stretches again. She shakes any lingering tightness off and lays lazily on the bed. Riley spends sometime watching videos on her phone and texting her friends back home. Riley didn’t particularly feel like doing anything other than sulk about being stuck in Paris and practice her ballet and since she’d already rehearsed she was left with sulking.

Riley didn’t want to leave the room or talk to anyone especially since she knew Lucas was in the living space with friends so she suppressed the hunger building inside her until her stomach was too loud to ignore. Riley has no choice but to surface from Lucas’ room and cross the living room en route to the kitchen. Riley keeps her head down as she walks into the room and four sets of eyes, including Lucas’ are glued to Riley as she crosses the room. She hears someone say “Miaou” (Meow - A French catcall) followed by Lucas telling him to shut up. Riley ignores it other than a polite smile she points at no on in particular as she hurries along.

Riley makes it to the kitchen easily enough but by the time she pulls something out of the refrigerator there are four teenagers around the kitchen island. Lucas is wearing an embarrassed and apologetic expression and the other three guys have flirtatious and intrigued smirks.

Riley laughs nervously as she places her snack on the counter.

“Riley this is, Oscar, Nolan and Pierre.” Lucas awkwardly introduces. “They wanted to meet you...”

Riley gives a small wave as she feels nervous under the gazes of these relatively attractive strangers.

“Bonjour, Ma chérie.” (Hello, my darling) The one introduced as Oscar says. “Est-ce que tu es aussi doux que tes yeux?” (Are you as sweet as your eyes are?)

After Riley stares blankly at Oscar, Lucas questions if Riley knows French and she shakes her head still nervously smiling. She understood a little French but not too much. Riley didn’t really need to, her classes are in English and she rarely ever left campus.

“At this point I’m not sure she speaks at all.” Nolan says in a dreamy French accent and Riley can’t help but nervously chuckle.

“Or maybe she’s weirded out by the riffraff bothering her.” Lucas eyes them.

“Riley is such a beautiful name for a beautiful girl.” Pierre says with a crooked smirk.

“Okay, I think Riley’s probably just going to want to eat her snack in peace.” Lucas clears his throat.

“Riley.” Jerry says from the doorway and everyone turns to find him holding the baby.

“I was just about to take Margret on a walk to the park near by, care to join me?” He gives the brunette a knowing look.

“Sure. Thanks.” Riley smiles and accepts his offer even though she really didn’t want to, but escaping sounded like her only option right about now.

Lucas gives Riley an apologetic look as his French friends seem disappointed she’s leaving.

“Nice meeting you.” Riley says quietly and quickly as she takes her snack to go.

Jerry chuckles about it as they make their way to the park. He explains that the French are stereotyped as flirty and those three certainly don’t help debunk that.

Riley sits on a park bench with Jerry, Maggie is in the stroller in front as they chat. Riley learns a little more about Jerry and his position in the military and where he’s currently stationed. Riley enjoyed his company and the conversation.

Later they return to the apartment as the baby needed a feed and Angela texted to say she missed her. Riley’s thankful that Lucas’ friends seemed to have left whilst she was out.

Riley gets roped into a conversation with Angela as she feeds Maggie. At first Riley just wanted to lay in bed and do nothing with the rest of her Christmas Eve but the more she got talking the more interested she was with what Angela had to say.

Angela was talking about why she moved to Paris, it had to do with being close to Jerry but she also fell in love with the city as a child after her family spent some time there when her father was stationed away. She also mentions how she knew The Friar family from a stint she did in Austin Texas with her father as a child, she met and befriended Lucas’ mother before she had even met Riley’s parents or Shawn. So that’s why she ended up being his godmother. Angela also explains that Jerry and Lucas’ father were deployed together before Lucas was even born and they have been great friends ever since. It was actually Lucas’ parents that set Angela and Jerry up on their first date.

“And the rest is history.” Angela says after a lengthy conversation.

Even though Riley was intrigued by Angela’s story she was happy to get a moment alone again.

Back in Lucas’ room, Riley flops down on the bed again with a heavy sigh. She thinks about all the things she’d be doing at home if she was there. It honestly didn’t even feel like Christmas Eve for her.

Riley sits up again and her eyes wander around the room. She had looked at it briefly but she hadn’t really looked at it. Riley notices the sports memorabilia pinned to the wall and the first place ribbons from different sporting events. Riley picks up a framed photograph on the table beside the bed. It’s a picture of Lucas and the same boy from his computer desktop background, the only difference is they look much younger.

“That’s me and my best friend Zay from back in Texas.” Lucas says and Riley jumps a little in place as she hadn’t notice him standing in the open doorway. Lucas apologises for sneaking up on her.

“Sorry.” Riley says as she puts down the photograph. “I wasn’t snooping, just looking.”

“It’s alright.” Lucas seems genuine. “We’re six in that photo, my mom took it at the country fair one year.”

Riley gives him a sheepish smile. “I saw him and another girl in your computer background, is she your girlfriend?” Riley questions.

“No!” Lucas chuckles. “That’s Vanessa, Zay’s want to be love of his life.”

Riley gives him a confused expression and Lucas just laughs. “It’s a long story.”

And then there’s a lull in conversation. Lucas laughs nervously realising he was the one that approached her. “I actually came here to give you something, I’m not just hovering like a creep.”

“What?” Riley crinkles her brows.

Lucas steps out of the doorway and into his room, he rests a paper bag on the bed and takes out its contents. “I know you’re kind of bummed about spending Christmas without your family but it doesn’t have to not be Christmas for you.”

Lucas shows Riley a Santa stocking, it has her name embodied at the top. “Angela had one of these made for me last Christmas and since we’re both here I didn’t want you to miss out.”

“You got this made for me?” Riley is surprised but touched. Lucas shrugs innocently and passes the stocking to Riley. The brunette lets her fingers traces over the lettering for a moment before saying, “Thank you, Lucas, that’s really sweet of you.”

Lucas is smiling wide and Riley’s phone beeping on the bed interrupts the mood. It’s a text from her mom with a photo of their full apartment with grandparents and all and a message that says everyone loves and misses her. The text wasn’t intended to upset Riley rather than make her feel included on what was going on but she still put her phone down with a sad expression.

“Is everything alright?” Lucas questions after noticing her mood shift.

“It’s just a picture of my family, everyone’s starting to arrive at my families apartment back in the city.” Riley musters a fake smile.

“I’m sorry.” Lucas says genuinely and he didn’t like her being so upset.

“It’s not your fault.” Riley says.

“Just because you’re upset about not going home doesn’t mean that being here has to be a bad thing.” Lucas perks up as he tries to redirect her mood.

Riley gives him a dubious look.

“Where’s your favourite place in the city at night?” Lucas asks.

Riley shrugs.

“Come on, anywhere.” Lucas says. “I’ll take you after we have dinner.”

Riley shrugs again. “I don’t have a favourite place I’ve only been to the city once when I first got here and never at night.”

Shock crosses Lucas’ face. “You mean you’ve been here months and you’ve never seen Paris at night?”

“No.” Riley says seriously. “My school is a little way away from the city, I did a quick peak at the eiffel tower before settling into my boarding school but that’s about it. We have strict curfews so I’m never out at night and I use my weekends for extra training.”

“So you’ve basically spent four months practicing...” Lucas very poorly mimics one of the stances he remembers Riley doing earlier.

“I’ve practiced a little more than that.” Riley folds her arms defensively.

“I think it’s cool.” Lucas holds his palms out trying to calm the situation. “I’m just surprised you live so close to one of the most beautiful cities in the world and you’ve hardly even seen it.”

“I’m here for ballet, not vacation.” Riley says simply.

“Well right now you kinda are since it’s Christmas and all.” Lucas gives her a look. “So if you want to get changed into something warm, dinner will be ready soon and I’ll take you to my favourite spot.”

“Fine.” Riley very lightly shrugs.

“Good.” Lucas smiles and again there’s an quiet lull which results in Riley giving Lucas a funny look.

“I need you to leave so I can do that.” Riley laughs nervously.

“Right.” Lucas chuckles too. “I’m hovering again, my bad. I’ll see you soon.”

With that he quickly exits the room. Riley changes into something warm and surfaces for dinner. She enters the living room and finds Lucas on the sofa. He’s happy to see Riley’s holding the stocking she made him. Lucas helps Riley secure it to the fireplace with the rest of the household stockings.

They both make their way into the kitchen where Angela and Jerry are joyously setting the table and baby Maggie is happily sitting in a highchair close by. Riley greets them with a soft smile and the group settle for dinner.

They enjoy a lovely meal that both Angela and Jerry prepared and Angela tells Riley a few stories of past Christmases she had with Riley’s parents and she even shares a story of one Christmas she spent with Lucas’ mom as a little girl.

Instead of feeling sad about things, Riley decided to enjoy the stories as she laughed at her parents crazy antics and she shared some of her own crazy Christmas stories with the group.

“Same old Cory and Topanga!” Angela says in a fit of laughter. “You’re honestly so much like them both.”

“You mean completely weird?” Riley laughs and Angela does too for a moment but she softens and says with a smile, “No, wonderfully unique.”

“Thanks.” Riley says wish a smile pointed at the table.

After dinner wraps up and Riley says goodnight to Maggie before she’s put to bed and she and Lucas head out for whatever he has planned.

Out on the street the air is cold but Riley is dressed accordingly. True to form there is a nervous tension between the two teens as they walk.

“Sorry about my friends today.” Lucas finally speaks up after five minutes of silence. “We go to an all boys school so they act like they’re starved of female company.”

“Do you board?” Riley asks.

“No.” Lucas shakes his head. “It’s not a boarding school, so I don’t know what they’re always complaining about.” Lucas laughs.

An elderly couple approaches Lucas and they ask him something Riley can’t understand but the Texan answers so eloquently in fluent French. It appears he was giving them directions.

“Joyeux Noël.” Lucas says with a smile as they elderly couple walk off with lovely smiles on their face.

“You speak French.” Riley highlights. “Is that something you’ve picked up since living here?”

“My grandma was actually born here in Paris so I understood bits of it growing up around her so it wasn’t hard to pick it up once I moved.” Lucas explains.

The conversation lightly goes back and forth for a while before Riley takes a moment to speak her thoughts aloud, “It’s so bright out here you barely even notice it’s night.”

“It’s called the city of light for a reason.” Lucas smiles and he ushers Riley forward.

“I thought it was the city of love?” Riley trips as she walks but recovers quickly.

“Are you coming on to me?” Lucas turns to Riley with a smirk.

She rolls her eyes with a smile and Lucas chuckles. “Some call Paris the city of love because of how romantic it is but it’s known as the city of light - or La Ville Lumière - because of it’s pivotal role during the age of enlightenment or rather their use of gas lamps in the 1860s, a time when the streets were filled with over fifty thousand gas lamps.” Lucas says as they stroll.

“You’re kind of a geek.” Riley laughs surprised.

“It’s not hard to want to learn about this place.” Lucas smiles. “The origin of the name aside I think it’s know as the city of light for this.”

As they round the corner Riley catches a glimpse of the eiffel tower, it’s still some distance away and not in perfect view but it’s completely lit up and twinkling with thousands of lights. Riley’s quite literally at a loss for words as she stares up at this breathtaking wonder.

“Pretty, huh?” Lucas looks to her with a smile and all Riley can do is nod.

“Can we get closer?” Riley asks.

“Sure, my favourite place is right by it.” Lucas says.

Lucas leads Riley closer to the tower and they end up walking along the rivers edge and Riley’s eyes are dancing around at the beauty of her surroundings. He leads her closer and finds his favourite bench for them to sit on.

RIley’s still taking in the beauty of everything and it takes Lucas a moment to win back her attention.

“Thanks for not letting me waste my time sulking.” Riley says with a small smile.

“I honestly can’t believe you’ve been here for months and hardly seen any of the city.” Lucas says.

“I’ve been very focused on my ballet.” Riley shrugs. “It’s a huge honour to be accepted into the school I’m in and I need to prove I’m worthy of my place.”

Lucas goes on to ask Riley about her life as a ballerina because it honestly fascinated him. Just stumbling upon her practicing her positions had him mesmerised. Riley explains how she was a clumsy child and her parents enrolled her in ballet to teach balance and poise and it turned into a serious passion for her. She goes on to explain how her best friends back home secretly applied to this school on her behalf and she's going on half a scholarship so she takes her schooling and dance very seriously.

Lucas asks questions and listens to Riley’s answers with such genuine interest. Finally Riley lets the conversation fall to a quiet lull and she sheepishly turns to Lucas, “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.” Lucas nods already suspecting he knew what she was curious about.

“How come you live with Angela and Jerry?” Riley asks.

“My parents are fine, if that’s what you're worried about, they’re both alive and well back in Texas.” Lucas gives her a small smile and that made her feel relieved.

“You don’t have to explain.” Riley shakes her head realising it was probably a very personal thing to pry into.

“It’s okay.” Lucas smiles before continuing, “I was a bit of an angry kid, I got into a lot of trouble back home. By the end of freshman year I’d been kicked out of two schools and my parents were struggling to deal with me so they shipped me off to Paris to live with my godmother.”

Riley is surprised by his answer even though she didn’t really have any ideas in her mind. It was the idea of Lucas - whom to this point has been soft and geeky and polite to Riley - could be trouble enough to be kicked out of two different schools.

“I wasn’t doing too well in the small town life but I straightened out. Angela has been terrific and Jerry is really great when he’s home too. I’m doing well here.” Lucas smiles. “I’m not like secretly dangerous or anything like that so you don’t have to be worried.” Lucas laughs nervously and that comes from his own embarrassment about past behaviour. He also didn’t particularly like that part of himself being exposed to perfectly lovely new acquaintances. After Lucas told her he realises he could have easily lied and made up some sugarcoated version but for some reason the truth came out so easily. A truth that took him eight months to tell his closest friend in Paris.

“I wasn’t worried.” Riley says with a small but genuine smile.

“Good.” Lucas matches her small grin.

“So how long have you been here in Paris for?” Riley questions.

“Since the summer between freshman and sophomore year... So about a year and a half.” Lucas answers.

“And do you miss Texas?” Riley asks.

“I do. I miss the country and my Pappy’s farm and I really miss my best friend, Zay.” Lucas says. “I can see now how we were a bad influence on each other but since we’ve kept in touch and we’ve both matured I really miss him.”

“And your parents?” Riley asks cautiously.

“Ah, yeah.” Lucas bops his head and Riley could tell that was a whole other can of worms. “I do miss them a lot now but things are little strained between us. I hated them for the longest time after they sent me away, even after I settled and began enjoying school and life here. I was so petty I didn’t even go home for Christmas last year... Honestly they’ve come to visit me once since I move into Angie’s and I haven't been home since they first sent me away.”

“I’m really sorry.” Riley frowns.

“I guess that’s why I wasn’t too bothered about missing my flight home.” Lucas shrugs. “As much as I love Zay, I was dreading the awkward family reunion.”

“Don’t you want to make things right with your family though?” Riley questions. “As weird as it is you said you missed them. Don’t you want to work through that?”

“Maybe.” Lucas shrugs again. “It’s hard, my dad is a military man and unlike Jerry he’s not warm or fuzzy in the slightest. It’s hard to break through that.”

“What about your mom?” Riley asks.

“I speak to her on video chat a lot. She’s my mom you know.” Lucas says with a sheepish smile and Riley nods.

“How about this?” Riley turns her body to face Lucas. “Since we will both hopefully be in our hometowns by New Years lets make resolutions together early.”

“Okay...” Lucas gives her a dubious stare. “What did you have in mind?”

“I’ll make a commitment to enjoy this beautiful country I’m in and not let ballet and school consume me.” Riley says. “And maybe you could try mend bridges with your dad?”

“Yeah.” Lucas nods. “I think it’s about time I do that.”

Riley smiles. “You know having to stay behind hasn’t been the worst thing in the world.”

“No?” Lucas asks with a smile.

“No.” Riley shakes her head. “I got to meet Angela, she was my moms best friend for so long, she’s like a piece of my History I didn’t know much about.”

“Angie is great.” Lucas nods with a smile.

“I guess you haven't been too bad either.” Riley laughs. “Even if you do just creepily hover.”

“I’m trying to be friendly!” Lucas laughs.

“I’m just kidding.” Riley lets her laughter tapper off. “It’s nice to know I have someone in here Paris I can talk to.”

“You don’t have any friends at your school?” Lucas questions.

Riley laughs nervously. “They’re even more crazed about ballet than me and I didn’t think that was possible.”

“Well you have me now.” Lucas nudges her arm. “And maybe when you get back from New York I can show you some more of the city on your time off.”

“I’d like that.” Riley says. “As long as I don’t get too distracted from ballet.”

“You can spin your way through every notable landmark if you like.” Lucas laughs. “As long as you’re enjoying what Paris has to offer.”

“Thanks Lucas.” Riley smiles sweetly. “For everything.”

“Joyeux Noël.” He smiles too.

“What does that mean?” Riley questions. “I heard you say it before.”

“It means Merry Christmas.” Lucas explains.

“Oh.” Riley says. “How do you say it again?”

“Joyeux Noël.” Lucas says it slowly. Riley tries to repeat what he said but fails miserably. Lucas chuckles at her attempt. “Maybe once we’re back here in the New Year I’ll help you with your French too.”

“Am I that bad?” Riley frowns.

“Tu es mignon.” (You are cute) Lucas says with a smile and Riley stares blankly at him. “We can work on it.” He chuckles.

“Well, Merry Christmas in English for now then.” Riley giggles.

“Merry Christmas.” Lucas laughs too and the conversation falls to another lull but this time not awkward or weird, they’re just quiet as they look at each other.

End Notes: Another long one!!! I honestly didn’t think I had it in me, especially this late in ficmas!!!! Anyways I liked this one!! I hope you all did to! I got to write more ballerina Riley which I didn’t do in the nutcracker one shot so I am happy!!!!

Only two more days left! If you have any more prompt ideas send them my way because i’m still trying to decide what to write for my last two days :)

Here is the anon that inspired this!!! Thank you so much anon I actually wish I had enough time on my hand to write an entire multi chapter story around this concept!!! Beautiful!!

Until tomorrow my loves!!! xx

#rucas #rucas au #rucas fic #rucas fanfic #rucas imagine #rucas oneshot #riley x lucas

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orbemnews · 4 years ago

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Tasmanian Tigers Are Extinct. Why Do People Keep Seeing Them? The Tasmanian tiger is still extinct. Reports of its enduring survival are greatly exaggerated. Known officially to science as a thylacine, the large marsupial predators, which looked more like wild dogs than tigers and ranged across Tasmania and the Australia mainland, were declared extinct in 1936. But on Feb. 23, Neil Waters, president of the Thylacine Awareness Group of Australia, promised conclusive photographic proof of a surviving thylacine. The four photos, he claimed, showed a family of thylacines, including a juvenile, moving through dense brush. The announcement kicked off a flurry of excitement among wildlife aficionados. But, analysis by thylacine specialists rapidly debunked the photos as a case of mistaken identity. The event is the latest in a tradition of extravagant claims about photographic or video evidence of lost or unknown species that don’t pan out. Why do these cycles occur so regularly, at times even convincing experts? The answer, psychologists say, may lie in quirks of the human mind and how we process information that is at once familiar and difficult to perceive. While such footage occasionally turns out to be a hoax, many stills and videos genuinely show real animals — even if they aren’t what people say they are. In 2005, a WWF camera-trap caught footage of a “mystery carnivore” — likely a flying squirrel — in the jungle of Indonesian Borneo. In 2007, 2011 and 2014, clips of hairless dogs and raccoons in Texas were described as chupacabras. The same year, a kayaker recorded footage that purported to show an extinct ivory-billed woodpecker in an Arkansas swamp, provoking heated coverage and broad scientific interest. Many experts eventually concluded that the bird was more likely a pileated woodpecker. It’s not impossible for species presumed extinct to reappear. Last month, news of the rediscovery of the Black-Browed Babbler, missing since the 1840s, emerged after two Indonesian men caught and photographed a specimen. A day later, an entomologist, announced the discovery of a tiny population — just six specimens — of the Australian cloaked bee, last seen in 1923. That’s part of why the prospect of thylacine footage was so compelling to hopeful researchers. Unlike Bigfoot or Nessie, such animals were unquestionably real, were well photographed while alive and went extinct almost within living memory. Catching a photo of one doesn’t necessarily seem like a stretch. And in the age of smartphones, cameras are everywhere. In fact, footage snapped by camera traps or amateur naturalists can help establish the presence and activity patterns of animals in the environment, said Holly English, a doctoral student in wildlife ecology and behavior at University College Dublin. “There are animals that visit my own garden that I only know about through camera trapping,” Ms. English said. Photos can also help reveal animals living in unexpected places. Her research on breeding populations of exotic wallabies in Britain, for instance, relied partially on images shared over social media. Susan Wardle, a neuroscientists at the National Institutes of Health in the United States, says that cycles of expectant belief undone by deeper analysis may in part be explained by human psychological quirks. Processing every individual sensory detail is impossible, she says, so our brain actively reconstructs our visual world based on the complex but ambiguous input received by our eyes. Research has shown that unclear sensory data — such as a blurry picture — causes the brain to rely more heavily on preconceived patterns to make sense of it. “This means that there is an interesting interaction between perception and cognition — our beliefs and prior experience can influence what we see. Or more accurately, what we think we see,” Dr. Wardle said. This tendency can lead people astray when studying photographic evidence of long unseen animals, sometimes called cryptids, especially if they already have an idea of what they’re looking for. Many people who go looking for such enigmatic creatures have an emotional investment in identifying them, “and are already convinced the creatures are already out there,” said Christopher French, who founded the Anomalistic Psychology Research Unit at Goldsmiths, University of London, and recently retired. That pre-existing belief makes it easier to begin seeing quarry in every shadow and rustle of brush, Dr. French adds, or in photographs that don’t offer a clear look at the animal in question. It can also cause people to genuinely miss details that might contradict their preferred hypothesis. In a YouTube video posted on February 23, Mr. Waters, formerly a professional horticulturist, claimed that he’d captured footage that proved the thylacine lived. Walking past a landscape of felled trees, he described setting camera traps in the Tasmanian bush, and catching four “not ambiguous” still images of a thylacine family. Thylacine populations began declining soon after European settlers arrived on Tasmania, an island south of the Australian mainland, in 1803, winnowed by government-encouraged hunting, competition from wild dogs, habitat loss and disease. The last known individual, “Benjamin,” died in captivity in 1936, leaving behind only haunting bits of film footage. There were reported sightings in the decades that followed, which lured multiple expeditions in Tasmania’s wilderness to search for survivors, said Darren Naish, a paleozoologist at the University of Southampton in England. None were successful. Yet reported sightings continued and even increased in the 1980s, and are still reported today. “That suggested that sightings were a social phenomenon, not a zoological one,” Dr. Naish said. Mr. Waters sent his photographs to the Tasmanian Museum and Art Gallery for analysis by Nick Mooney, a thylacine expert. He and his colleagues debunked Mr. Waters’ claims. “TMAG regularly receives requests for verification from members of the public who hope that the thylacine is still with us,” the museum said in a statement. “Based on the physical characteristics shown in the photos provided by Mr. Waters, the animals are very unlikely to be thylacines.” Instead it said they are most likely Tasmanian pademelons, a stout little marsupial resembling a wallaby. Many thylacine sightings are similar misidentifications, said Adam Pask, a thylacine researcher at the University of Melbourne. “There are quite a few wild dogs roaming around Tasmania,” Dr. Pask said. “So it’s very easy to spot a ‘thylacine’ looking animal in the bush if you look hard enough, and want to see one enough.” These kinds of mistakes are common, Dr. Naish said, in part because even experienced outdoors people and researchers aren’t always adept at identifying animals from unfamiliar angles or in unfamiliar states. Size and distance can be hard to judge in photographs, causing domestic cats to resemble big cats. Subtract fur, as in the occasional rotting raccoon carcass or mangy fox, and even familiar mammals can look deeply uncanny — or like an extinct marsupial predator. “We all make mistakes: even the most experienced naturalists make misidentifications, sometimes hilarious ones,” Dr. Naish said. However, those dedicated to hunting cryptic animals are often primed to accept more ambiguous footage, while dismissing critical opinions from qualified experts. “The single most pervasive cognitive bias we all suffer from is confirmation bias,” Dr. French said. If you’re invested in finding the cryptid you’re searching for, you’re more likely to find the evidence convincing. On March 1, Mr. Waters — who did not return multiple requests for comment — released the photos as part of a 19 minute video, urging viewers to “make up their own mind.” In a subsequent interview with News.com.au, he said that the response to his photos by expert analysts gave him “more fire in my belly to prove them wrong.” “It won’t be much longer,” Waters said. “Because we’re very close to getting irrefutable proof the animal is still here.” Source link Orbem News #extinct #People #Tasmanian #Tigers

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demonhunternonos · 7 years ago

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28. Tess is not allowed to wake up a fellow hunter riding shotgun or in the back seat by stopping the car abruptly. (Dante)

29. I will not tell schmucks who protest my use of guns that "Guns don't kill people. Dads with pretty daughters do." (Nero)

30. I am not allowed to ask “Are we there yet?” when driving to a mission. (Trish)

31. I am not to ask “Are we dead yet?” when the driving gets a little crazy. (Dante)

32. Tess is perfectly capable of running and keeping up with my acrobatics. Just because she’s small does not mean I need to pick her up and manhandle her like luggage. (Dante)

33. Do not use the phrase “what witchcraft is this?” or any variations thereof around Tess. (Kyrie)

34. If you arrive at a location with Tess and encounter ghosts, you will not ask her “Who ya gonna call?” (Tess)

35. Dante is not allowed to use the word ‘insertion’ (Tess).

36. Or ‘penetrate’. (Lady)

37. Or ‘cucumber’. (Trish)

38. Or ‘ecstacy’. (Kyrie)

39. Dante is no longer allowed to make Elvis Presley impressions. (Roy)

39. So is Dante allowed to do anything fun? No. (Vergil)

40. The worst thing you can hear a fellow hunter ask is, "Was this important?" (Tess)

41. I will not 'accidentally' shoot pigeons while on a mission, even if they are 'poop-bombing, flying rats'. (Trish)

42. I will not pretend to be able to read a map. (Lady)

43. I must never admit to locking someone's keys in the car with my guns. (Lady)

44. I will not start a betting pool about who in a demon cult will die first. (Dante)

45. I will not start a betting pool about which half-demon, demon or human idiot in this group will fuck up today. (Roy)

46. Roy will absolutely start that betting pool and get me in on it. (Dante) NO! (Tess)

46. There is a very fine line between bravery and stupidity. (Roy)

47. You are not qualified to perform a Catholic exorcism. (Lady)

48. Neither am I. (Lady)

49. We may not pretend to be FBI agents and introduce ourselves as Agent Mulder or Agent Scully or Agent Spooky or Agent Cooper. (Tess)

50. There is no situation where suggesting the sacrifice of a virgin might help. But sometimes it can’t hurt? (Trish)

51. C4 is not the answer to all of a girl’s problems. But it should be. (Lady)

52. I am not from Texas. (Lady)

53. I am not allowed to shoot at, or otherwise cause bodily harm to any clown I see even if I genuinely believe they are possessed or evil and must die. (Dante)

54. All clowns are evil. There are no exceptions. Any clown who tells you otherwise is LYING. (Vergil)

55. Be very afraid when Dante and Vergil agree on something. (Liz)

56. Nobody is to be referred to as ‘hell on wheels’. Especially not me! (Tess)

57. Do not get in a car driven by Tess when she's angry. (Nero)

58. Remember that the rules #28 through #58 are the reasons we are all banned from Las Vegas. (Lady)

#Lady #Trish #Dante #Nero #Vergil #Tess #Kyrie #Roy #Liz #and Las Vegas was never the same again.

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lilpootworldtour · 4 years ago

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Saturday 11/21/2020 Roswell, NM - Las Cruces, NM

First we woke up. We were very excited because we had left over dominos. I do not know if we ate any because we ate too much the night before, but we had lava cakes. Boy oh boy, it was yummy. Okay, so then, first stop on our trip out of Roswell. Donuts. We had donuts. Roswell donuts. We got one Bear Claw, One Apple Fritter, One Chocolate, One Chocolate Glaze with sprinkles. The Bear Claw was on recommendation from the worker bee, all very good, Bear claw was clear winner, glad she recommended it. Yeast based donut: not quite as good as Krispy Kreme, but still top tier. Second stop was hotly debated, we definitely wanted coffee but did not know where from. Based purely off of yelp reviews, positive yelp reviews I might add, and niche appeal, we decided to go to Perk ’N Jerk coffee and Jerkey emporium. When we got there, oh boy did we realize we were in for an experience. There was not a soul around except for a 90’s ford station wagon in the condition you’d expect parked right in front of the front door. Naturally, you would think it was a customer, but when we walked up and didn’t see anyone inside, we realized the owner was the type of person who owns a business and parks in the closest parking spot either not expecting anyone to come so no need to leave it open or he wants to claim it first, who knows. He welcomed us in and asked us what we wanted, we responded with “A Perk and Jerk please.” His flavor board had two sides to it. We were confused and thought that only one side was jerky, so we only ordered salt and pepper jerky. We asked if he had any other jerkies, maybe something hot, and he said, “The board has two sides to it, the other side is spicy.” So we also got red pepper, which was literally just red pepper flakes on jerky. After receiving our order, he went to retrieve the jerk. He went into the back and brought large Tupperware storage containers out and placed them on the table in the middle of the room. He then grabbed a box of quart sized zip locks, a zip lock full of labels, and a sharpie. He straighten up a food scale that was on the table and zeroed it. When he opened the first Tupperware, we were able to see a sea of jerky which he grabbed a hand full of and placed on the scale. After getting the desired weight by adding and removing tears of meat, he sealed the bag, slapped a label on, and scribbled the date. He did the same with the second jerky. After getting the jerky bagged and tagged, he asked if we were interested in any coffee. Upon entering, we both felt that we did not want to buy any coffee from the joint, but when asked point blank, we panicked! Hannah got an iced coffee and I got a hot coffee. He asked us about our trip plans while preparing our coffee and we told him our next stop was White Sands. He muttered something under his breath that made us feel like he didn’t think too highly of our trip and began giving us a few suggestions of his own. One being to go to an Airplane museum that had a legitimate plane of a certain, very specific model. I asked about the plane, to get a better idea of what to visualize, and he must of thought I wasn’t worth anymore of his time because he replied with a change of subject. He handed us our coffee, we paid, and we were on our way. While we were waiting for our coffee and Jerky, we took in the ambiance he made by putting up pictures of army things and his “Will return soon” signs. You can see these arts in the photos. After leaving Perk and Jerk we got on the road heading west on the way to White Sands National Park. Starting some point around Wyoming, during our last trip, as we drove through the rolling west of open land, I couldn’t help but imagine myself riding along beside the camper in cowboy boots, wranglers, very cool cowboy style shirt, bandana/bolo, and cowboy hat - full gallop on the back of a stallion I broke all on my lonesome and consider to be my best pardner. By the time we were west of Wyoming I knew if I saw a nice pair of cowboy boots or cowboy hat I was going to buy them regardless of any practicality post trip. I never found the little genuine cowboy store I was expecting in any of the one stop sign towns we drove through via country back roads so I just kept hoping and looking and as we spent time back in Wilmington with Lil Poot in the shop those desires kept floating further and further to the back of my mind. Those thoughts and desires, though, never fully disappeared, and when we made It to Texas they rushed back into my heart like a tornado and I couldn’t drive for being blinded by a flurry of images of me riding horses, roping cattle, riding full gallop chasing bandits with a six shooter in each hand one firing straight to my chase and one firing behind me at my chaser. I must have blacked out or passed out or just plain fell asleep, for I woke up to Hannah shaking me saying “David! Wake up!” I snapped out of the most realistic reality where I was defending a train car from a robbery with TNT exploding all around me, and worse, exploded the on coming bridge. We only had 15 seconds to get all 250 passengers off the train before we were all taking the express elevator down the 700’ cliff and, I am sorry, but no stops between or getting off, this is the express elevator. Right as the engine started to drop and the wheels of the last train car left the tracks, only a dozen passengers managed to jump off the train prior, their fate unknown. I started calming the people in my car telling them we were on our way to Dairy Queen and everyone is going to get a free Sundae, knowing full well I didn’t have enough gold and silver for five sundaes. My eyes opened and I saw Hannah for the first time in what felt like years. I started to smile as Hannah pointed to her right, which led my gaze to the on coming tractor trailer who must have gotten in my lane after I fell asleep and became a sheriff. I soon realized I had drifted in to their lane so I perked up and jerked the wheel to the right making all six wheels squeal and smoke till we were over the double yellows and I was yanking the wheel to the left in hope of correction, locking the e- brake, down shifting, sliding back, gassing it, gaining traction, and we were back on track, in the right lane, going 50. After being on the road for an hour or two post Perk and Jerk Hannah spotted a store called Frank English’s Custom Boots and we both knew we had to pull in! We pulled back hard on Lil Poot’s reins, then to the right, guiding the good steed to Frank English’s hitching post. After putting Poot in park, we found our masks, wallets, sense of direction, and headed inside. During the short walk from the camper to the door, I imagined all sorts of awesome boots we were soon to see and how difficult it will be to choose just one pair to buy leading us both to walk out of the store cash poor and boot rich. After entering, as soon as our eyes adjusted to the light, we saw that we were not in the boot emporium we expected and that we allowed our desires to lead us astray once again. Frank English politely put down the boot he was working on and asked how he could help. I sheepishly explained how we were expecting an emporium of ready made boots and how I have been dreaming of being a cowboy recently with Hannah supporting me through the whole confession. Frank took it easy and told us we could go up the street to a store that sold lame boots and we were almost out the door when he asked us to halt and listen to what we should look for when buying boots. He then captivated us for an hour using a spare boot as a prop, pointing to various parts and explaining what to look for in a good boot. He then put the boot down, with a loving last look and feel, turned his attention to us, and asked about who we were and where in the world we were coming from. We obliged, telling how we left New York during the pandemic, headed down to NC to live in our parent’s abodes before buying an RV and hitting the road. He cut in a few times with his own stories of living in NYC, moving around, and suggestions for us as we head west. One of those suggestion being Silver City NM where he used to live and where there is a neat coffee shop in the arts district called Tranquil Buzz owned by Dale. With heavy hearts we said our good byes and tootalous, headed back to Lil Poot, who was shuffling his tires in the dirt and humming rock ballads, loaded up, and got back on the road. As we continued on towards White Sands, we looked at each other and decided we should have bought boots from Frank. With this decision we talked about turning around, but decided on looking him up instead, maybe we could talk about the buying process first. Hannah found an article on him and read aloud, boy, Frank is COOL. I will include the article somewhere in this post. After learning about Frank, and driving some more, we made it to White Sands National Park. We took a right off the highway, like everyone else coming from the east, headed down the one road weaving between the white dunes. We saw the road turned from asphalt to salt, the main component of these dunes, so we pulled off at the pull off just before the change. From there, we got out to stretch our legs, decided to return tomorrow and bike down the gypsum salt road but enjoy the short boardwalk here since the sun will be setting soon. We walked along the board walk reading the info signs as we went, learning about the mice and lizards that adapted to live in the dunes as well as the insane life story this once lake told scientists of how the world used to be and how it was once a youthful, fun body of water looking for a good time, not worried about all its salt flying around. After returning to Lil Poot, this time he was hunched over in the corner of the parking lot with his back to the sun, head shadowing his gameboy trying his hardest to beat Misty with out taking the proper amount of time to train his Pokemon, got inside and headed west to our BLM land campsite near Las Cruces. After finding our camp site and getting the camper ready for parked mode, we hung Christmas lights below the cabinets and around the ceiling while listening to Christmas music. After playing with the lights some, they have different modes, one of which reacts to music, we settle on leaving the colored lights, under the cabinets, on solid and let the white lights, our crown molding, dance to the music. Hannah started boiling hot water for Hot Toddies and David probably looked at his instagram feed, soon both were drinking hot toddies and crafting.

https://www.taosnews.com/opinion/columns/know-your-neighbor-frank-english/article_e50ba70e-48ce-5371-91f1-7a1c7cc19e14.html

#lilpoot #lascruces #whitesands #frankenglish #perknjerk #pizzaomlette #newmexico

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webgeekist · 7 years ago

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Holiday Karma Pie

I paid for someone’s groceries today.

I didn’t do it for the karma. I didn’t even do it for the charity. I did it because the lady in front of me was having technical issues, and the less-than-$30 bill was worth sparing my sanity and getting out of that line. I played it off as a Christmas thing, asked the lady to pay it forward, and assured her that, yes, I was serious when I said it was no big deal. It wasn’t. I was happy to pay to get out of there.

I have a habit of picking the worst grocery lines. I thought, for a while, it was just this new place I’m in, but then I went home for Thanksgiving and went through 20 minutes of hell waiting for the family in front of me to finish arguing with the cashier about the $20 in savings they weren’t getting because their coupons weren’t scanning, or whatever other nonsense was preventing them from scanning an entire conveyor belt full of items, $200 and two carts into the bill. We moved to another line, finally, when one seemed available nearby. When we left with our own hefty bill in the cart, they were still there, slowly scanning the rest of their items.

I am also the person who will pick up the one item out of 100 without a bar code, and take three of them to the checkout lane.

It’s funny, this idea that you can buy karma with good deeds, as if your motivations don’t count. I’ve seen The Good Place. I know better than that. My motivation today was entirely self-serving, as is most charity in this country. We overwhelmingly donate our time or our money because it makes us feel better about ourselves, not because we genuinely care about giving. We’re scared into doing the “right thing” by a book that has been mistranslated and misinterpreted for centuries, and somehow have this warped idea that doing the right thing will buy us grace. Good Karma. A spot in heaven. Optimal reincarnation. At the end, there’s always something in it for us.

I’m no better than others in that regard. I do good deeds infrequently, and when I do, it’s almost always born of convenience. “Would you like to pay an extra 63 cents to round up your bill and donate to the Children’s hospital?” Sure. “Would you like to donate a dollar to aid in wildfire relief for Sonoma County?” Whatever. “Give a dollar to homeless pets?” Okay. “Save free information!” Click.

The result is positive for the recipient. That doesn’t make the motive for donation genuine.

And it doesn’t make the universe less likely to balance out your good luck with misfortune.

I think about that a lot. I’m always grateful for the positive experiences in my life, but I’m hyper aware of the fact that they often come at a premium. There’s a trade owed the universe, and you will pay it in painful ways. Maybe it’s a hard lesson you need to learn after you land your dream job. Maybe it’s illness, recovery, and loss after you find a few years of companionship. Maybe it’s your family turning their back on you a month before your wedding to the love of your life. And oh, by the way, she’s a girl and you are, too.

I’ve enjoyed two years with my fiancée. I marry her in 23 days. How many of my family will actually show up? At this point, I’m not sure.

I took a job in the Bay Area in July. It wasn’t so sudden that my fiancée didn’t have input. She absolutely did, and though we didn’t expect to be able to afford Northern California, we’re happy we could make this work. Or, at least, that we will make this work after June, which is when her teacher’s contract runs out in Texas. I’ve raked up so many frequent flyer miles, going back and forth every spare moment, and in the airspace between SFO and DAL, I’ve uncovered an anxiety I never expected to have: a fear of flying.

I have flown a Cessna. I have logged hours in a genuine full-scale 737-700 simulator. My dad was a professional pilot at one point in his life, my uncle still is, and all his kids can fly. My grandfather flew for the Thunderbirds. My brother is on his way to being a commercial pilot. I am not afraid of planes.

I started crying and choking before walking through security. I panicked when I booked tickets. If not for some of them being booked immediately after I got the job, I would not have gotten on a plane after September, but I’ve been on five trips since, fifteen total, and for most of them the what-ifs and potential loss has consumed me to the point of paralysis. Every bump and adjustment on takeoff freaks me the fuck out. The changing sounds of the engines at different altitudes and powers freaks me the fuck out. It’s taken every moment of every one of those harrowing trips to learn how to manage the anxiety, to rationalize the noises I hear from the engines, to normalize the dips and turns out of each Bay Area airport, but come Thanksgiving, when I climbed on a plane for the first long break I’d gotten at the new company, when I was so over the project I was working on that I was relieved to be standing at another fucking gate and boarding another fucking plane, all the stress management techniques I’d gathered in my anxiety did nothing to stop me from experiencing sheer terror flying out of SJC, meeting some bumpy air, banking to head south down the coast to catch a connecting flight out of LAX and bouncing around in the turn. I landed at SAT five hours later, cried in relief when the plane touched down (I always do, and I thank the plane for getting me there. That plane’s name was Tank. I gave it that name.), and stumbled into the terminal as fast as my eighth row seat would allow.

And then, I went to my family’s Thanksgiving.

I should precede this with the statement that the nine days my fiancée and I spent at my mom’s house started fairly early on with some culture shock. My fiancée is in grad school, and one of her class assignments was a “cultural plunge.” That’s a hilarious concept, because her entire life is a cultural plunge. She was born in Houston, but raised completely in India, went to college in Singapore, and came back to the states after. Living here has been one awkward learning experience after another, and with her brown skin, it’s also often been an experience of racism, of profiling, of assumptions made by ignorant people. She can’t go through an airport without getting her bag inspected and a pat-down (that happened once with my mother, and after we told her that no, my brown fiancée really does get profiled, and my mom damn near got herself arrested chewing the TSA agents out because how dare you treat her daughter like that. Yes, my mom is privileged. But, go Mom). Her background in science has often made living in Texas not unlike living on an alien world where logic and reason are outlawed. And oh, she’s a lesbian too. Discrimination trifecta.

Anyway, she submitted the idea of going to a Catholic Church on Sunday and staying for a mass as a cultural plunge, because unlike her white middle-class native Texan classmates, this was something she’d never done before.

I mean, what are the odds that they’d pick a gospel that would somehow relate to one of the many hot-button issues that any church in a red state could pick? The Pope is fairly liberal for a Catholic, and neither my mother nor I really remembered the sermons being terribly political.

Clearly, it’s been a while since we attended church.

My mother was horrified. Here was an opportunity for her to show her daughter-in-law a bit of her culture, and her upbringing, and therefore a bit of where my own morals and morality comes from. Here’s a chance for her to prove to me that the church of her childhood might have had these tenants but the sermons didn’t get into specifics, and people mostly just tried to Love Thy Neighbor.

I was pissed. I glared hard at the deacon as he climbed off the dais and walked back to his seat, and I’m certain he saw me. I’m certain he paused for a half-step because he saw my face, which I’ve been told can be really menacing when I’m angry. I don’t keep my emotions to myself very often. I don’t have a poker face like my fiancée.

She couldn’t muster that face. She was openly crying and trying not to show it. This church – this remarkably diverse church where she didn’t stick out like a sore thumb, which had epistles in three languages, which was holding a bake sale as we walked in had on its staff a white conservative deacon who took an unrelated Gospel and warped it into a hateful political rant that didn’t hit one button. Oh no. That sermon was an IED array and it hit every single freaking target on the list.

We left during the Eucharist, and we didn’t buy a pie on the way out.

Five days after this experience that left us all in a drinking mood, and which after several bottles of wine was still a little painful, we went to the Thanksgiving party with my dad’s side of the family.

A lot of my aunts, uncles, and cousins seemed genuinely excited about the wedding. There was a bit of a shadow over one of my aunts because her father is really, really ill. Dad and my stepmother told a story about my grandmother, the escape artist, who is probably a lot more together than they think but who was put in an old folk’s home for people with memory problems about two months ago. I dread going to see her because the last time I saw her in a rehab facility, after she knocked her head and suffered the brain trauma that probably drove a lot of the symptoms she still has, it was a little difficult. It’s not going to be easy to see her in a home that isn’t actually her house. She apparently agrees, because she treats visitors to a tour of the place and asks a lot of pointed questions, like how many nurses are at the front station and whether or not you think someone can get to the parking lot from any given set of doors. She’s an inmate in a place she doesn’t feel comfortable staying, and she’s already made it to her car with an overnight bag once. But they have the keys locked up. I think she’s trying to figure out where they are.

She recognizes me. Remembers my name. Knows the wedding is soon. Asks about California. Hugs my future wife. And maybe goes through a few names before she gets some of my cousins’ and uncles’ names right, but she’s been doing that since I was four. We’re a big family. She always gets it right in under six tries.

My aunt looks hesitant to talk about her father, but she does. Both of us listen as she expresses her fears about being away, even for a day or two, because the doctors haven’t been very precise in telling the family to “spend time with him while you can.” It could be days, or maybe months, but probably not through winter because winter seems to be when so many people go, like the warmth-starved land sucks them dry. Which is weird, because we’re all from South Texas, and winter there is like 80 degrees.

We sympathize, and a pang of something I have only been able to define recently shoots through me. It feels like mortality, and reminds me of my fear of flying. It reminds me that I have this thing, this person, this state of being that I found and eventually will lose, that the loss won’t come when I’m ready for it (because that is never. I will never be ready for it). My heart hurts for her and my cousins, because the man is in his 80s like my two surviving grandparents, and that is a long and accomplished life, but it is still too soon for all of them. We have fought for my grandmother often enough and recent enough that I understand that position, too.

Hours later, before the annual turkey bowl, that aunt and my uncle, plus their oldest son come find my fiancée and I in the upstairs game room where most of the cousins retreat after lunch and before football. They ask us both to come out onto the balcony with them for a few minutes. Their younger son, recently married, follows shortly after with his new bride.

And my cousin starts….with a prayer.

“Heavenly Father, please guide our conversation today in your wisdom and light.”

I have my fiancée’s hand in my own. I hold it tighter. I know where this is about to go.

My cousin is a stalwart, honest guy. He’s the eldest son of two people who have always given where they could. They drop what they’re doing to help people, simply because they need help. They give within their means, which are better means than most. Their big and open hearts were passed to two of their three sons, both of whom were standing on that balcony with them. But they are sinners, my cousin says, all of them. And he is no better than anyone. He cannot cast judgment upon sinners as one of them, as someone who has been addicted to pornography, and has crossed lines with women. He loves us both, they all do, but surely we’ve read what the Bible says and it’s wrong, wrong, wrong.

My uncle says to us, we love you. We will not change how we treat you…but we’ve prayed about this for a while, and we can’t go to the wedding.

“We can’t celebrate the sin,” my cousin says.

And I know they love us, the best way they know how. I told them that I understood their perspective, though I disagreed, and respected their decision. We hugged, my aunt called me big-hearted, someone mentioned chocolate (it might have been me), and they started filing off the balcony.

I stayed behind and broke down in my fiancee’s arms.

See, my family had been outwardly accepting until that moment, when something finally broke enough for the first people to say something about it. And my fiancée – my tall, brown, “foreign” fiancée who has tried so hard to get my family to like her – felt instantly like all that effort had been for absolutely nothing. And I? I felt guilty for putting her in that position, for forcing us into a position where my family may never truly be okay with any of this, where a lifetime of loving and supporting each other so demonstratively may yet be lost on so many people I love, because somehow our relationship all boils down to sex to some people. Theirs is about love, but ours is about sex, and lust, and sin, and how the context of the Bible may be all about polyamorous lustful activities but a committed, loving, monogamous relationship between two women is just the same as sexually abusing guests and having orgies in front of idols and a really vague Greek word which in context probably means “men who sleep with boy prostitutes” but magically includes all people who engage in the act of sodomy and well never mind that you’re not actually doing that you’re just the same as the literal “man bed” who will not inherit the kingdom of heaven.

Maybe karma can keep that paradise, because I don’t want to spend eternity in a place where loving companionship is the same as assault. I get enough of that in the news.

It took me a while to come out of the bathroom I found to hide in, because there was no amount of water that could bring the redness down, and eventually my fiancée brought my closest cousin to find me. She saw us walk out, she counted the time, and she knew something had gone wrong. We told her what had happened.

This is the brewing rift. There are some people in our family who sit in Catholic services every Sunday and are not only going to the wedding but are genuinely excited for it. And there are some who might yet show up, but will be at the bar a lot.

Those excited for it will probably not enjoy learning why so many of us are absent. What happens then is probably not high drama, but probably won’t be business as usual either. Said my closest cousin, “I don’t know what to do with them now. You have a bigger heart than me for walking out of that situation without coming downstairs and telling everyone about it immediately.”

Twice in one day, in different contexts, two people I care about made reference to my perfectly normal sized, potentially smaller than average heart. Karma revealed the consequences of my good fortune that night, and they continue to unfold by the minute. For the first time in my life, I may miss Christmas with that side of the family this year. I suspect it won’t be the last thing we miss.

I climbed on the plane to come back to California two days later, and cried over the root of the problem with all these flights: the separation has been torture, and after the emotional week we had, it was going to be hard for us to heal apart. I put on my noice-canceling earphones and turned on Radiolab just before takeoff. It was a podcast about a girl without an identity, whose family kept her sheltered and off the grid, who didn’t have any kind of paper trail because her parents didn’t believe in social security numbers, and so never let her have one. I flew over Kerrville, where she had lived most of her life, while listening to the story. Takeoff was smooth. So was most of the trip back to SJC. And except for a really rough patch of air over New Mexico on the way to Dallas on Friday, my flights this weekend were just as painless.

I landed at SFO on Sunday and thanked the plane, as usual.

My eyes were dry.

#look it's been a while and this is really personal but there you have it #lgbtq+#marriage #personal essay

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weekendwarriorblog · 4 years ago

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The Weekend Warrior October 30, 2020 – COME PLAY, THE CRAFT: LEGACY, HIS HOUSE, SPELL, HOLIDATE and More!

Boy, it was really nice having a week off last week, and honestly, I’m thinking of legitimately cutting back the number of movies I review for this column every week, since trying to review ten to twelve movies in any week is just too much, especially if I’m ever gonna get back to the box office stuff. I don’t expect that to be any time soon since movie theaters are still shut in NYC and any major release is either getting shuffled to next year or onto streaming.

Because Halloween is this Saturday, we can expect a lot of horror movies but a few other things as well. Thankfully, this is also a relatively quieter week as is next week before things absolutely EXLODE once again. Who knows? Maybe movie theaters will be reopened in New York City by then, too.

The highest profile movie of the week (and the one getting the widest theatrical release) might be Jacob Chase’s COME PLAY (Focus), a horror movie that he expanded from his earlier short film “Larry.” The feature stars young Azhy Robertson as Oliver, an autistic boy who discovers a book called “The Misunderstood Monster” on his phone, which awakens a monster called “Larry.” As Oliver’s parents (John Gallagher, Jr and Gillian Jacobs) try to understand what is going on with the boy, Larry continues to wreak havoc on everyone around the boy.

I was generally mixed on this highly high-concept horror movie, maybe because it seemed like a fairly cheesy concept that completely over-utilizes the concept of a monster that inhabits technology to the point where you immediately think of Lights Out. That was also based on a short film expanded into feature, but that was also directed by David F. Sandberg. Chase is a perfectly capable filmmaker, and he has two great actors in Gallagher and Jacobs, the latter playing a far more dramatic role than we’ve seen from her in quite some time.

The problem is that the first hour or so isn’t particularly scary, it actually feels kind of dull and derivative. It’s not really until the last half hour when we get to see Larry in a far scarier physical form than just inhabiting and controlling technology, where things pick up and that last act of the movie does sort of make up for the earlier part of the film. Come Play isn’t terrible, and I’ve definitely seen far worse, but it’s also no Babadook in terms of doing something original or innovative within the horror realm.

As if we didn’t have enough remakes going on right now, Sony and Blumhouse decided to dump their THE CRAFT: LEGACY, declared as a “continuation” of the beloved 1997 movie, to PVOD this week. I never was a huge fan of the original Craft, but it’s as much a beloved cult movie as any other out there. I truly believe that for any Millennial woman who was in her teens in 1997, this is probably her favorite movie, or maybe it’s just the women I tend to meet. Anyway, this one is written and directed by Zoe Lister-Jones, who made that wonderful Sundance movie Band-Aid, and it stars Cailee Spaeny as teenager Lilly, who arrives in town with her mother (the wonderful Michelle Monaghan) to live with her mother’s new boyfriend (David Duchovny) and his three sons. Lilly is immediately picked on at school until she falls in with a trio of fellow girls (Gideon Adlon, Lovie Simone, Zoey Luna) who notices Lilly’s ability and wants her to become the fourth in their mini-coven they’ve created to explore their witchy powers.

Even though I know plenty of women who absolutely love the original 1997 movie, and there’s nothing wrong with that, The Craft never really connected with me, so I went into this without any real emotion about the movie being remade… I mean… continued. Oh, let’s cut the crap. There’s almost nothing that connects this movie to the earlier movie other than it’s another group of teenage girls getting into witchcraft. Maybe there’s some easter eggs in there that didn’t jump out at me, but any actual connection with the first movie seems so tacked-on to a movie that just isn’t very good otherwise. (Lister-Jones leans so heavily on her movie’s soundtrack to keep any sort of momentum going.)

As much as I love the cast Lister-Jones put together, particularly Spaeny and Monaghan, her movie is so disjointed starting with all the silly giggly girly stuff at the beginning, to all the Y.A. lovey-dovey Twilight crap (mostly dealing with Lilly’s hunky love interest of sorts played by Nichoas Galitzine) to about an hour into the movie when things finally get darker but then immediately starts falling apart.

I won’t go into further details to avoid spoilers, but it takes almost an hour to get to anything even remotely resembling an actual plot. If you’ve seen the original movie, you’ll already know the basic arc except that like last year’s Black Christmas remake -- also by Blumhouse – the movie transforms into a big female empowerment fight against the evil man, who you can figure out quite easily who that might be. I generally felt that Spaeny was really misused and the visual effects to show the girls’ powers are so lame I’m wondering how they got past the Blumhouse quality control standards.

This is a silly and mostly obnoxious girls’ movie that made me feel old AF as it chose to deal more with feelings than anything even remotely resembling scares. After watching it, I was far less surprised The Craft: Legacy was being dumped to VOD rather than getting a theatrical release.

Streaming on Netflix this week is Remi Weeke’s feature debut HIS HOUSE about a refugee couple (played by Ṣọpẹ Dìrísù and Wunmi Mosaku) who escape from war-torn South Sudan to try to create a new life for themselves in a small English town when they start experiencing all sorts of weird and nefarious occurrences in their new home.

His House is a bonafide horror movie, but one that’s so entirely unique to the genre by adding the fish-out-of-water experience of two immigrants into the mix. It also seemingly uses authentic African mythology and lore to make the supernatural aspect of the story feel much more relevant to the couple at the movie’s core, while at the same time showing the xenophobia experienced by immigrants in the UK. That last part is something we doesn’t have many opportunities to experience so much in the U.S., but between this and Steve McQueen’s upcoming “Small Axe Anthology” we get to see how racism in the UK shows its ugly face in a different way than it does here.

Weekes’ clearly has a solid handle on the material for his feature debut, which even includes a small role for former Doctor Who Matt Smith, but I was more impressed with the strong performances by the two leads combined with how Weekes worked with his team to create actual scares in new and intriguing ways.

More importantly, Weekes’ film shows how important it is to establish strong core characters before throwing them into any sort of supernatural horrors, which is why this ultimately works better than some of the other horror films of the week including Spell (see below).

Significantly creepy but tying that into a strong narrative about the immigration situation in the UK, His House delivers on both aspects to create a strong and impressive debut from Weekes. This is a genuinely scary movie that thrives on offering original ideas vs. retread.

Premiering on Premium VOD and Digital (and maybe in a drive-in or two? Who knows?) is Mark Tonderai’s supernatural thriller SPELL (Paramount Home Entertainment), starring Omari Hardwick and Loretta Devine. Hardwick plays Marquis T. Woods, a successful lawyer on his way to his father’s funeral in Appalachia with his family when the plane he’s flying gets hit by a storm. Marquis wakes up trapped in an attic by a Ms. Eloise (Devine) who claims she has complete control over him using a Hoodoo talisman known as a “Boogity.” Marquis urgently has to escape her dark magic and save his family.

I tried hard to avoid going into this semi-cynically since “horror noir” is now a huge thing thanks to the success of Jordan Peele’s Get Out and Us. Every single horror film with a black lead has tried to combine the same amount of Peele’s socially-aware relevance with typical horror scares. Spell definitely has that despite being written and produced by Kurt Wimmer, best known for the 2002 sci-fi film Equilibrium.

Spell doesn’t take too long getting Hardwick’s family man Marquis out of his comfort zone and back to his Appalachian home where, as a kid, he was abused by his religiously-devout father who believed in the area’s Hoodoo customs. Like classic horror movies like The Texas Chainsaw Massacre and even Hills Have Eyes, Spell is fashioned as people from a different background coming upon strange and deadly Southerners, here represented mainly by Devine’s character but also by almost everyone Marquis and his family meet once they get down to the Appalachia area.

The movie only really gets going once Marquis is trapped by Devine’s Ms. Eloise, and that’s where it turns into a supernatural-tinged version of Misery as he repeatedly tries to escape. I generally love Devine and glad she was able to get more of a lead role that may have normally gone to Octavia Spencer, but Devine has an even harder time getting past her likeable nature, and honestly? By the third or fourth time she has used the term “Boogity” – it’s used a lot – it become even harder to take the movie very seriously. In general, the movie feels like the filmmakers were trying to throw in too many ideas and only some of them work.

What Tonderai has going for this movie is that he has made a sharp and stylish movie that ably builds the tension as it goes along. It even throws in some deeply disturbing gory movies as it builds to a bit of a revenge action-thriller by its crazy last act. Because of that, Spell finds a way to get past its derivate roots to deliver a thriller that’s likely to keep the audience’s rapt attention despite its issues.

Just in time for Halloween, Netflix releases HOLIDATE, starring Emma Roberts and Luke Bracey as Sloane and Jackson, two people who hate being single on holidays and facing judgment from their families. When they meet, they pledge to be each other’s “holidate” for any festival occasion for the next year.

High-concept R-rated Rom-Com warning! Not that I’m NOT a fan of this genre when done right, and actually, director John Whitesell (of the “Big Momma” sequels) does a pretty good job getting a lot of laughs out of his amazing cast that includes Kristin Chenoweth (two weeks in a row!), Jessica Capshaw and more.

It’s a little weird seeing Emma Roberts, who I’ve met and interviewed since she was a teenager, in such a racy R-rated role that includes a lot of humor that would not seem out of place in Bridesmaids or an Amy Schumer movie. I’m sure she hates being compared to her famous rom-com star aunt, but Roberts really has mastered the comedy aspect of the genre that’s just as any meet-cute romance. It reminds me a little of two of my favorite rom-coms of 2019, Last Christmas and Plus One, and even if it doesn’t try to be particularly deep or thought provoking, it sure as hell is entertaining.

Despite there being quite a bit of silliness and even some low-brow humor in Holidate, it’s definitely going to be a lot of people’s guilty pleasure, because Roberts and Bracey are so absolutely adorable together. (This movie was so obviously made before COVID because there’s so much partying and Christmas merriment unlike anything we’re likely to see this year.)

Martin Krejci’s THE TRUE ADVENTURES OF WOLF BOY (Vertical) stars Jaden Martell from the “IT” movies as hairy-faced soon-to-be-13-year-old Paul Harker, who lives an isolated life with his garbageman father (Chris Messina). Frustrated by his secluded life, Paul runs away in an effort to find the mother he never met, making a few similarly odd friends along the way.

This is another movie that could have gone either way depending very much on the tone, but its tone is so all over the place that I never quite figured out if this was supposed to be a kids’ movie, something for young adults or just some sort of tax write-off that managed to convince a number of serious players like John Turturro (who has an exec. producer credit) and Chloë Sevigny to get involved.

Martell is generally no slouch himself, having had a number of starring roles, but it seems like this might have been filmed years ago because he looks and sounds like a 10-year-old. You don’t have to get too far into the movie before you see Martell with his hairy make-up, clearly inspired by The Wolfman, as he’s picked on by other kids and eventually decides to run away from home. First, he returns to the carnival where Turturro’s Mr. Silk puts Paul to work as a sideshow freak. That doesn’t work out so Paul runs off and encounters two wild outcast girls, played by Sophie Giannamore and Eve Hewson. That whole time, Paul is being pursued by a detective who wants to bring him home to his worried father.

Sadly, Chris Messina, who has been taking on so many more interesting roles recently, just doesn’t have a ton to do here, and others like Turturro, are so badly overacting it takes you completely out of the movie. The movie does get a little better once Giannamore and Hewson’s characters are introduced into the mix, but Paul’s story never does much to win over the viewer’s interest, so the movie never finds its footing. Even the sentimental final act that introduces characters played by Sevigny and the always great Stephen McKinley Henderson barely makes up for all the earlier silliness. It will be available On Demand and Digitally this Friday.

The movie above has absolutely nothing to do with Andre Gower’s doc Wolfman’s Got Nards (Gravitas Ventures), which is available via VOD right now. It’s a look at the 1987 movie The Monster Squad, which I never really was that into but there’s no denying that it’s the definition of a cult film, because I know so many people who are obsessed with this movie. (Some of are actually in this doc! Germain Lussier and Jen Yamato, I miss you guys!) Gower’s doc covers how the movie got made with Shane Black co-writing it with director Fred Dekker, who basically went on to make…um… Robocop 3. This isn’t quite as fun as the recent You Don’t Nomi in terms of a doc about one specific movie, although there’s a lot of great behind-the-scenes footage, and horror fans will love all the nerdy talk about making the creatures and physical effects for the movie. Maybe it’s because I haven’t seen Monster Squad in so long that I just couldn’t get quite as excited about this doc as others might. I think if you love The Monster Squad, this movie will make you plotz!

Another, possibly higher-profile doc is Frederick Wiseman’s CITY HALL , which will debut exclusively at venerable New York arthouse Film Forum’s Virtual Cinema today. It’s a four and a half-hour documentary that follows the day-to-day of Boston’s City Hall and Mayor Marty Walsh as they deal with situations both mundane and extraordinary (like the Red Sox’s 2018 World Series win) over the course of a few months. At 90 years young, Wiseman is a veritable documentary legend who has been working in that medium since the mid-60s with something like 45 or 50 films under his belt. (Some of those films have been and will continue to be streaming as part of Film Forum’s “Wednesdays with Wiseman,” many of them including Q&As with Wiseman and other Oscar-winning documentaries.) Surprisingly, I only first heard of Wiseman when he won two awards from the New York Film Critics Circle a few years back for In Jackson Heights (just over three hours long), and there’s no question he’s a master of what he does, which is cinema verité documentary that does exactly that… documents. I honestly couldn’t get past two hours of watching this stuff, but maybe that’s just me.

Also streaming at Film Forum beginning Friday is King (A Touch of Zen) Hu’s 1979 martial arts drama Raining in the Mountain, starring Hsu Feng, which should be worth a view.

Another interesting doc out this week is Julie Sokolow’s Barefoot: The Mark Baumer Story (1091) about a writer and activist from Providence, Rhode Island named… well, you can figure that out… who decided to walk across the country barefoot over 100 days in order to protest people (including a certain POTUS) ignoring climate change. It’s a pretty amusing and quirky movie, and if you didn’t know better, you might think it’s a spoof ala the amazing IFC series Documentary Now, but no, it’s real, and Sokolow does a great job keeping this quirky average joe interesting through the film’s 85-minute runtime, although he does get a little annoying, because he’s one of those friends who will just not shut up while complaining about Trump… and this is during a walk that took place before Trump’s inauguration! It’s definitely a very unique and different political doc from others we’ve seen this year maybe because Baumer does seem so down-to-earth despite his kookiness. I liked this doc almost but not quite as much as My Name is Pedro from earlier in the year because it does show that weirdos CAN make a difference! It’s available pretty extensively right now on VOD and digital on most platforms including iTunes, Amazon, and more. You can watch the trailer below and find out viewing options HERE:

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After a few months of offering Digital Live Screenings, Metrograph is adding “Ticketed Screenings” for those who don’t want to commit the insanely reasonable $5 a month for a membership. First up this Friday is Olivier Laxe’s doc Fire Will Come (KimStim) which follows Amador Coro, a man accused of starting a fire who returns home from prison to live with his mother in Galicia (the director’s ancestral home), an area for having a high number of wildfires. The film, which won the Un Certain regard Jury Prize at Cannes last year, will have a weeklong run, and it includes a conversation between Laxe and cinematographer Ed Lachman, and a collection of Laxe’s short films will also be available.

A few of the movies still available this week (at least through Wednesday) as part of Metrograph’s Live Screenings include Red Squad, The Werewolf of Washington: Director’s Cut, The Edge (as part of the Robert Kramer retrospective), and Roni Moore and James Blagden’s Midnight in Paris. You can learn more about all of these and joining the Metrograph with a digital membership at the Official Site.

Other movies out this week that I wasn’t able to get to:

US KIDS As an Act of Protest (Speller Street Films) Attack of the Demons (Dark Star Pictures) Madre (Strand Releasing)

Probably the most exciting news for those planning to keep Disney+ past the first free year they got through Verizon, is that The Mandalorian Season 2 debuts on Friday! Also, Parasite director Bong Joon-ho’s Memories of Murder is now available On Demand, so if you haven’t seen it yet… do it now! (Also, The Hostis on Hulu, so no excuse not to watch some of Director Bong’s pre-Parasite films.)

#TheWeekendWarrior #Movies #TheCraftLegacy #ComePlay #Holidate #Spell #REviews #voduntransmissions #streaming

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pinelife3 · 4 years ago

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Whatever happened to Lainey Gossip?

Lainey Gossip was the smartest celebrity gossip site on the internet. I was an avid reader for most of my adult life. You may recall my April 2016 blog post about gossip and, in particular, blind items. Well, it’s been nearly a year since Lainey posted a blind item. In the site’s heyday (pre-2017), she posted a blind roughly once a month.

Beyond the drop-off in blind items, the site has decayed in a number of ways. It’s become smug and self-aggrandising. They rolled lifestyle content onto the main blog feed, so now I have to scroll past posts about, I kid you not, baby names. (Caring about baby names is so inherently stupid to me, I feel genuinely irritated just being exposed to that content. Just name your kid something out of the primary religious text for your culture/region/family. Adam can never go out of style.)

The main thing which has turned me off Lainey Gossip is the writers’ misapprehension that the site is some kind of arbiter on social justice issues. Every other day there is a post with some insufferable moralising about feminism, equality, systemic racism, Rowling’s transphobia etc. It’s not that these are bad takes - I actually agree with what they’re saying. But I don’t want to hear it on this site. I don’t refer to gossip writers for guidance on this. Lainey is not a political activist. The writers on the site are just regurgitating ideas and lessons they’ve learnt elsewhere. This post from June was the final straw for me. The relevant part of the post is Alia Shawkat’s apology for saying the n-word during an interview in 2016. The clip of her actually saying the n-word seems to have disappeared from the internet, but basically she was describing a time when she and some of her friends arrived in a very nice hotel and how she thought of the lyric: “Nigga, we made it" from the Drake song “We Made It”.

Here’s Lainey’s analysis:

As people have pointed out on Twitter, 2016 isn’t that long ago. And Alia was in her 20s. Whether or not you decide to cancel her, as many are doing, is up to you.

I can’t fully account for it, but the phrase ‘Whether or not you decide to cancel her is up to you’ rubbed me the wrong way. Whether you decide to cast her into the fire for not correctly censoring herself when quoting a Drake song. Whether she is destroyed as a person forever. A worthless husk. Irredeemable. Whether her soul should be torn out and her body fed to crows. That’s up to you. The new god? It’s you, the reader of this gossip blog!

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This was during the peak of the Black Lives Matter protests and discussion this year. So, in the second half of the article Lainey gets high on her own farts, like so:

While I have never used the n-word casually, and many of you may say the same, we do all engage with Black art, we do all borrow from it, consciously or unconsciously, in the ways we express ourselves, in the way I have expressed myself here, from fashion to language to GIFs. Think of how much cultural colloquial vocabulary comes from the Black community – recent examples include “lit”, “snatched”, “shady”, “flex”, “tea”, and phrasing that’s become commonplace and permanent in our language like “chill”, “dope”, “extra” – all of this comes from the creativity of Black minds. And they’re almost never credited for it.

So yes, of course, call out people like Alia for their irresponsible use of the most egregious words, but at the same time, let’s all consider how much we owe to the Black community for what they’ve given to us and for little we’ve given back in respect, appreciation, and credit. Because while the immediate urgency of Black Lives Matter is to prevent more senseless killings of Black people, the broader focus of BLM is Black dignity in all forms, and all of this is related. We can’t say that we honour Black humanity if we are erasing their contributions in all aspects of our lives.

Thanks Lainey. To be clear, I wouldn’t mind if this was the only time she’d shared an opinion like this - but this type of argument is repeated ad nauseaum across the site. She’s a therapist. She’s a civil rights activist. She knows what’s good for you. She speaks with great authority on how to solve racism.

Fast forward a couple of weeks and Lainey is apologising for the hideous shit she used to write on her blog in the early 2000s where her takes were often racist, homophobic, and/or misogynistic. In her apology post, she wrote:

Many people object to cancel culture. My personal opinion on it is that while cancel culture is not always judiciously applied, it does have value. Sometimes people should be cancelled. And if you visit this website often, you might be thinking about whether or not to cancel me. That’s fair.

...I have been conditioned in white supremacy, and I have enabled white privilege, even as a person of colour myself, because we too, given that white supremacy is so dominant, can have bias... When I started this site back in 2003/2004, I wrote misogynist things and slut shaming things, and racist things. And as the site grew in popularity, it served as confirmation bias, that there was an appetite out there for this kind of content, and I wanted to keep delivering it. Over time, I learned and grew, along with many of you who have learned and grown. And through it all, I have talked about my progress, calling out my past mistakes and leaving much of that content on the site instead of deleting it. There are some things, though, that have been deleted because I was embarrassed and I didn’t want to be part of it and obviously didn’t want to perpetuate those thoughts. But in the process of doing that, I realised that that would be erasing history – and for marginalised people, their pain and trauma is constantly being erased and invalidated. My leaving it there to be eventually called out is nothing compared to their experience.

Many gossip blogs were like this in the nascent stage of online journalism. They called it snark - and it was very popular. I think in some ways this was to differentiate blogs from the content and coverage in traditional gossip mags. Most gossip magazines are toothless - because they want celebrity interviews and exclusives. But, in 2006, a website was never going to get an interview with anyone worth interviewing so why bother to be nice - especially because being cynical and mean was more entertaining for the average reader. A lot of the gossip coverage that occurred back then would never fly now: ridiculing Britney for shaving her head, fat shaming, cruel coverage of celebrity eating disorders, slut shaming. The edgelord humour of the early blogs was crushed beneath the wheels of progress.

I don’t care about what Lainey wrote in 2006 - I don’t think it’s nice, I don’t think it’s interesting or funny, I wouldn’t have chosen to read it. But it doesn’t change my view of the site as a whole. What it does do though, is highlight how hollow all the talk of respecting women, honouring Black culture, working to be better, being good allies, etc. is on this site. Because it’s not really about doing that shit - it’s about telling other people off for not doing it. Lainey has weaponised wokeness as her new snark.

After the fall out around Lainey’s embarrassing old articles, a banner was added to all of the articles on the site which were published before 2013:

She’s effectively disavowed half of the blog’s history. Lainey Gossip launched in 2004. Is it really fair to say that articles published in 2012 were posted during an early period of the site?

What is Lainey doing when she toys with Alia Shawkat’s fate like Anton Chigurh tossing a coin? She knows in her heart of hearts that she has also said things she regrets, also said unsavory things in public that she didn’t really mean. It’s so weird: can’t you see the parallels between yourself and her? Lainey is pretty clear in her apology that she’s acknowledging the problematic history of the blog because people were exposing her on social media. Were it not for this, she likely would have continued writing about problematic shit other people did 10 years ago without acknowledging that she is no better.

Again, I want to be really clear: my issue isn’t with the articles she wrote in the early days of the site. It’s the weirdness around publicly criticising people when your own behaviour is comparably bad. What could you gain from doing that beyond reveling in the snark? Destroying someone else before the mob you helped create comes for you?

Let me remind you: THIS USED TO BE A GOSSIP BLOG with analysis of celebrity culture, movie deals, blind items, industry insider stories. Now it’s just been sucked into the culture war vortex. Ruined by the discourse.

Gossip used to be talking about other people’s business: Speculating about which Victoria’s Secret model DiCaprio would pick up next. Investigating rumours that Jennifer Lawrence faked her tumble on the stairs at the Oscars. Analysing why a celebrity filed their divorce papers in California rather than Texas. Waiting to see which celebrity would be the first to wear Marchesa on a red carpet after the fall of Weinstein.

Gossip is a way of learning what is acceptable in society, a way of observing how others perceive and react to the decisions people make - and how behaviour which violates societal norms attracts backlash. It’s even more interesting when the subject of that gossip is rich and famous. Lainey Gossip is no longer turning out this kind of content - so where can we go for these insights?

The best barometer for conservative public opinion on celebrity movements and the related enforcement of societal norms is the The Daily Mail comments section. The Daily Mail itself seems like something of a journalistic agent of chaos: I would have assumed that they swung right, but they post pro-Trump articles and anti-Trump articles. They do not seem to have a dog in the fight: the world turns, empires rise and fall and The Daily Mail persists.

In the ‘entertainment news’ articles on the site, no impassioned arguments are made, no particular analysis is shared: the journalists position themselves as impartial observers just reporting the facts. Occasionally a piece is clearly designed to bait the readers - for example, any time they mention the price of someone’s home in the headline... “Celebrity in $13 million mansion reminds fans to appreciate the small things” or that kind of crap. But the article itself is just a list of facts. No analysis, no reflection - just positioning.

Also interesting to observe is that The Daily Mail comments section is typically quite harmonious. Readers generally have similar take-aways from articles and it’s very rare to see an argument break out in the comments section. It’s as if Daily Mail readers think with one mind:

Stay with wife many years? Very good. Society like this. Daily Mail readers approve.

Stay with wife many years and maybe wife is slightly overweight? Oh yes - this guy is the best. International hero. Daily Mail readers all agree: we love.

Stay with wife many years and then divorce her? Hmm let’s see how this situation develops before we judge...

Stay with wife many years and then divorce her to be with younger woman? You die now.

The Daily Mail comments section is a glance into the void. A pit of human misery where people say exactly what they think. No subtext. No analysis required.

They like Pierce Brosnan because he is a straight-forward nice male celebrity and he has been with his wife for a long time - his wife is a little overweight so it makes readers feel good to imagine that he might not be repulsed by the average woman.

They do not like Emma Roberts because in 2013 she was arrested for beating her boyfriend in a hotel room. This was a long time ago and not many people think about it now. She has a successful career and is well liked on social media. But that’s because those youngsters forget.

The Daily Mail comments section does not forget. Their memory is long and their pity is scarce. They are society’s hive mind. The majority. A snapshot of what 95% of the planet’s population would think on any given subject - which actually makes for very interesting reading.

Forget about Lainey Gossip, trawl The Daily Mail comments section with me.

#lainey gossip #alia shawkat #cancel culture #gossip #the daily mail #pierce brosnan #emma roberts

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vesselblock65-blog · 5 years ago

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Lindsey Harding | Learning a New Game

Not too long ago, Lindsey Harding seemed destined for Hollywood.

At least that’s what Gail Goestenkors thought.

“I fully expected to see her on the big screen,” said the former Duke University women’s basketball head coach, whom Harding played for during a standout career as a point guard for the Blue Devils.

In an individual meeting one time, Harding surprised Goestenkors by telling her that acting was her favorite class at the renowned ACC school.

“She was getting ready to do what I believe was a monologue,” Goestenkors remembered, “and she said, ‘Do you want me to do it for you?’

“I said, ‘Yes!,’ and I mean she jumped right into character. I was about in tears, because it was so amazing and realistic. That’s when I said, ‘Oh my gosh, you have a gift.’”

Goestenkors wasn’t alone in feeling that Harding had a legit shot at becoming an actress. So too, Goestenkors said, did the acting coaches Harding continued to train with while she was in the WNBA.

Listen to Lindsey Harding's Appearance on The BroadCast

Whether Tinseltown is ever in the cards for the former National College Player of the Year and no. 1 draft pick remains to be seen. The anecdote, however, speaks to a broader, pertinent, and important theme of her life.

“She’s always very interesting, and always very interested,” Goestenkors said, “wanting to continue to grow, and explore different avenues. I always loved that about her.”

It’s a quality, by all accounts, that hasn’t changed, especially as it applies to Harding’s new line of work, a scout for the 76ers.

The game she’s learning might be different, but the approach - responsible for so many of her successes - has stayed the same.

Transitioning Into New Territory

In the modern NBA, four games in four nights is an unthinkable proposition. Truly.

Given the increasing (and justified) prioritization of player rest, the mere notion of inflicting such a demanding stretch on a player or team would be stopped dead before it could even qualify for nonstarter status.

These days, Lindsey Harding could be at a game on a Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday. Perhaps a Friday, too.

“It depends on the schedule, and who we’re trying to see,” said Harding, now four months into scouting for the Sixers.

Harding, by no means, is a stranger to the grind.

After completing a decorated career at Duke that earned her the no. 1 selection in the 2007 WNBA draft, Harding embarked on a pro career that was long and strong. It lasted 11 seasons, and featured stints with the Minnesota Lynx, Washington Mystics, Atlanta Dream, Los Angeles Sparks, New York Liberty, and Phoenix Mercury.

In the off-season, Harding typically packed up and went overseas, like many of her fellow WNBA peers. Opportunities in Europe took her to Lithuania, Russia, and Turkey, the country where her journey as a player officially ended 19 months ago.

“I came back [to the United States] in May of 2017, and was done,” Harding said. “I took four months, and just vacationed. I was on any beach I could.”

But for someone who, for two decades, had poured so much sweat and cerebral equity into basketball, her feelings for the game didn’t just recede into the ocean.

“I knew I wanted to be in the NBA,” Harding said, reflecting on her state of mind in early retirement. “I didn’t know exactly in what capacity, but I knew that I had a lot of relationships, and wanted to just talk to people and see what they suggested.”

So, Harding decided to go to that year’s NBA Summer League.

One of the most impactul encounters she had in Las Vegas was with Bethany Donaphin, then the Associate Vice President of NBA Basketball Operations, and now the Head of WNBA League Operations.

Donaphin tipped Harding off about a newly-created initiative for former NBA players called the Basketball Operations Associate Program.

By the fall, Harding was in New York.

“You were given the chance to rotate through different departments within [NBA] basketball operations, from officiating to data analytics to CBA / salary cap, just everything to get an understanding,” said Harding. “It also helps with the transition from playing, what direction do I really want to go.”

More than anything, Harding’s year in the Basketball Operations Associate Program gave her a sense of what she didn’t want to do, and that was be in an office around the clock.

“I really wanted to work with a team. I missed that competitiveness, I missed ‘my’ team. So, from there, I talked to different teams and organizations about getting my foot in the door.”

A door opened earlier this year in Camden, New Jersey, and here Harding is now, the first real chapter of her post-playing career well underway.

Putting a Premium on Relationships

Everytime Harding drops by the 76ers Training Complex, which, in-season, is a rare occurrence, due to all the traveling she does, she gets a bunch of hugs.

Fine by her.

“I’m a hugger anyway,” Harding said. “I’m from the South.”

By necessity, Harding’s new role requires her to throw her arms around a bunch of different people, in a metaphorical embrace.

That’s because intelligence gathering is at the heart of her gig as a scout, “a big piece of the pie,” as Vince Rozman put it.

“It’s a huge component, especially from the NBA perspective,” said Rozman, Senior Director of Scouting for the Sixers. “Everybody knows what players are good and what they do. Understanding how they might fit, how they might react to our team and our coaching staff, it’s huge.”

Coaches, players, other scouts, executives, agents - all represent potential sources of intel capable of helping paint a more complete profile of a player.

Scouts like Harding are responsible for procuring this type of information.

And what’s the most direct, effective, and reliable way to unearth nuggets, big or small, that could eventually influence key personnel decisions?

Relationships, which Harding is all about.

“That’s why relationships are big, right?,” she said. “If I really know someone, and I have a great relationship with them, they’re more likely to tell me good stuff, the really good stuff. Some of the information I may not know, or I may not know how true it is, or I may not know if it’s heresy. But for me and my organization, I’ll bring it back and say, ‘What do you think about that, or is this crazy?’”

It can be a tricky dance, as straightforward as Harding makes it sound.

Imagine this scenario:

You’re Lindsey Harding, an already recognizable figure in basketball circles, given your accomplishments on the court.

Now, you’re a scout, and odds are, just about everyone of your counterparts probably knows who you work for, and what you’ve come to the arena for that day.

Valuable intellectual property.

Harding’s personality has helped her cut through any potential awkwardness. “Genuine” was a word Rozman used to describe her.

“She’s easy to talk to, very outgoing, confident, and approachable. All of those qualities, once you walk into a gym and need to talk to a coach or other people scouting the game, it’s helpful, it goes a long way.”

Sounds a lot like the point guard Gail Goestenkors coached at Duke.

“She’s outgoing, for one, and she’s never met a stranger, for two,” Goestenkors said of Harding. “When you’ve got a great communicator who’s outgoing, but also very caring, sensitive, and curious, I think people are naturally drawn to that, and feel comfortable. And when people feel comfortable, they tend to open up more, and share more. I think that’s vital.”

Nailing the ice breaker, Harding has learned, is critical to starting good dialogue. She often picks the brains of some of the Sixers’ more experienced scouts for tips on how to get the conversation rolling.

“You don’t ever want to be someone who comes in and is like, ‘Hi, I’m Lindsey, soooooo…,” Harding joked. “That’s kind of rude, because people have done it to me. I don’t know if they think, ‘Oh she’s a newbie, she’s going to tell us everything we want.’”

Harding, as gracious and affable as she is, doesn’t. She’s catching on quick.

“Everyone’s been very, very helpful.”

Offering a Wealth Perspective

To only highlight Harding’s interpersonal skills would be to do a disservice to the well-rounded package she brings to the 76ers.

It would also be shortsighted to simply play up another narrative that’s associated with her.

“I don’t want it to be ‘The Sixers mostly hired you for that,’” said Harding, the second WNBA player and first African-American WNBA player to land a full-time scouting position with an NBA franchise.

She even addressed the matters of gender and race with the Sixers during her job interview. The response heartened her.

“They were like, ‘Yeah, we see that, but you’ve had experiences and have done things that most of our people haven’t. We want you to bring that, and we feel it’s going to be different, unique, and that it’s going to help us.’

In Harding, here’s what the Sixers saw:

“The combination of her skill as a player, and the personality and the desire to coach and learn and integrate herself into the NBA, that package was overwhelming,” said Brett Brown.

“She really comes with an amazing resume, pedigree, and spirit. When you talk to her, you feel that competitive drive that I would feel from Jimmy Butler.”

Determination, and an insatiable desire to succeed have long been parts of Harding’s DNA.

Before basketball, she was a track-and-field star. Subsequently, Harding picked up hoops relatively late.

While being recruited for college, she was ranked predominantly on state level lists in Texas, mostly flying under the national radar.

But by the time Harding departed Duke for the WNBA, she was the sixth player in ACC history to reach 1,000 points; 500 rebounds; 500 assists; and 250 steals. Putting how good she was into further context, her no. 10 jersey hangs in the rafters of famed Cameron Indoor Stadium, and this past fall, she was inducted into the Duke Sports Hall of Fame.

“She just continued to work and improve,” said former coach Gail Goestenkors. “When it was all said and done, she was the top player in the country, and the no. 1 draft pick. That’s how far she came. She was very good, don’t get me wrong. But she wasn’t considered one of the elite. But by the time she finished, she was the elite.”

In addition to Harding’s work ethic, the Sixers were intrigued by the vantage point she could bring to the scouting staff as a former pro who had not only played extensively in the United States, but also, particularly, in Europe.

“She’s played in the WNBA, overseas, and she was obviously a high-level prospect,” Vince Rozman, the Sixers’ Senior Scouting Director, said. “She’s experienced all of these types of progressions that players we’re looking at have gone through. She’s really seen it all.”

Harding, who played for Belarus at the 2016 Olympics, admits she wouldn’t see the sport the way she does now had she not competed internationally. There were differences everywhere - in styles of play, coaching, and cultures.

“There are a lot of things I did learn from [international basketball], different talent, different players,” she said. “Some players you’d look at and say they’re not a great athlete, they’re not this and that, but how do they keep ending with 20 [points] and 10 [rebounds]? There’s something about this player that makes them good, and I really liked focusing on that too.”

In 13 seasons with the Sixers, Rozman has come to believe that diversity of perspective is an imperative dynamic to have within a scouting department. Harding, given the depth of her experiences, figured to enrich the room.

“Most of the year isn’t coming to answers, it’s coming to identify questions, and argue through them,” said Rozman. “As many different backgrounds and viewpoints as you have, it’s great.”

“It is sophisticated,” Brett Brown said about the art of scouting. “It’s intel gathering, it’s the nuances of seeing something that others might not see. It’s studied stuff, it’s homework stuff, it’s gut feel stuff.

“I think that with Lindsey’s experiences, both domestic and internationally as a player, she’s got a real chance to be something different as it relates to a polished, versatile scout.”

End Game

The way the world works, now that Harding has gotten started scouting for the Sixers, it’s only natural for us to wonder what her end game is, right? Where does someone with as intriguing a backstory as hers want to ultimately end up?

At the moment, Harding, who's scouting a little bit of everything for the Sixers, is just happy to have found a rhythm to her still relatively fresh routine, while continuing to meet new people, and expand her network of contacts.

“I’m much more comfortable now,” Harding said. “Everyone, not just my organization, but other scouts, has been very helpful.”

For as long as Gail Goestenkors has known Harding, which is pretty much all of Harding’s adult life, she’s admired her former player’s perpetual interest in “everything going on in life, and seeing life as a great adventure.”

“The sky’s the limit for her. I love that she dreams big, then goes out and tries to make it happen,” said Goestenkors, who spoke to Harding shortly before the season started

“She said, ‘I’m glad I’m doing this right now, because I’m behind the scenes, and I get to see how things work and how difficult it is and the decisions that need to be made. So this is so good for her.’

Harding was always a fast study anyways, Goestenkors said.

“She learns quickly, adapts, adjusts, and then excels.”

As Harding continues to learn more and more about the ways of the NBA, she’s already discovered that when it comes to professional trajectory on the basketball operations side of things, oftentimes “there’s no exact path.”

“You don’t go to ninth grade, 10th grade, 11th grade, then 12th grade,” said Harding. “Some people go straight to 12th grade.

“For me, and how I’m taking this, it’s one step at a time. I look at this as the opportunity of being a scout, a great opportunity to learn what everyone does, how they do it, and see what opportunities I have next.”

The partnership with the Sixers so far has been productive, and promising.

“I just feel that at this stage of her life, and the timing we have in organization, I think it’s a great fit on both sides,” said Brett Brown. “We’re thrilled to have her. Male or female, she’s great at what she does.”

Source: https://www.nba.com/sixers/news/lindsey-harding-learning-new-game

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