#his tv series actor is british..........so............ | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

youremyheaven · 7 months ago

Text

Krittika: The Tarzan Complex & Survival Strategies

TW: murder, rape, genocide, euthanasia, death, violence, misogyny

This is part 2 of my ongoing Krittika series. This research was commissioned by the wonderful, angelic and patient, @rscelestia-blog . Being commissioned to do nakshatra research by you guys makes me feel like I'm a renaissance artist and you guys are my Medici family ✨🥺🫶💛 I'm so grateful for it.

For this post, I wanted to look into how this nakshatra often manifests in men. Whenever I talk about how naks manifest irl, I am talking about a tendency not a rule. Astrology is not a perfect science and it is very much possible that someone could have these placements and not behave this way. Also there are hundreds of different tendencies for each nak, since every astrologer is a mere human being with limited knowledge, what they derive from their studies is perhaps only a handful of such possibilities. Therefore every nakshatra has vast room for interpretation.

All that said, I have often thought that Krittika men were a bit unrefined and mannerless for a long time. I think this broadly applies to Solar men in general because they're a "guy's guy". However, this observation was further cemented by an ask that I received a long time ago where an anon pointed out how many actors who have played Tarzan or Tarzan like characters have Krittika nakshatra.

I will be making a separate post about the 'feral child' trope and how its most acutely manifest in a different planetary type but for this post I want to focus on the 'uncivilized' nature of Krittika/Solar men.

I had mentioned in my previous Krittika post about how since Krittika nak follows Bharani where creation takes place, Krittika is about survival.

In fact, the theory of 'survival of the fittest' was put forward by another Solar man aka Charles Darwin, Uttarashadha Moon

The term was originally coined by Herbert Spencer, Ketu in Uttaraphalguni after reading Origin of the Species

Alfred Russel Wallace, whose own theory about the mechanics of evolution was almost identical to Darwin's, had a Solar stellium (Mercury & Venus in Uttarashadha and Jupiter in Krittika)

In Nazi Germany, they appropriated Darwin's "survival of the fittest" to eradicate anybody who wasn't Aryan or 'fit'. One of the key proponents of the same was an officer named Alfred Rosenberg, Uttarashadha Sun who was hanged to death after the war. He helped advance involuntary euthanasia to eliminate mentally ill and disabled individuals.

Now, lets go into Tarzan.

Tarzan is from an aristocratic British family and after losing his parents, he is adopted by the leader of the ape tribe, among whom he is raised. He later experiences civilization, rejects it and returns to the wild.

Many actors who have played Tarzan have either Solar influence or Venusian influence. In the 2 dozen actors who have played this character, the majority are Venusian tbh but I'll explore that more on a separate post about Venusian men. I think its interesting how different aspects of this character fit these two planetary types.

Here are some men who have played Tarzan

Johnny Weissmuller, Mercury and Venus in Krittika

He played Tarzan in 12 films and Jungle Jim in another dozen films and its TV adaptations as well.

Bruce Bennett, Krittika Sun (unrelated but i find this pic so funny lmao)

Tony Goldwyn- Krittika Sun and Venus (atmakaraka)

He voiced Tarzan in the 90s film

Tarzan has always been played by other Solar natives like:

Wolf Larson- Uttaraphalguni Moon

Alexander Skarsgaard- Uttaraphalguni Stellium

Now when we think of Tarzan, what do we most associate with him? He is a man who was raised in the jungle by apes since he was a baby, so he is "uncivilized" and by most standards "lacking manners", he is wild, messy, uncouth, improper and defies all kinds of social norms. We usually associate "mannerlessness" with belonging to perhaps a lower class in society but here is where Krittika and Solar men surprise us. They behave this way despite all that they have. They could be from immensely privileged backgrounds and still act like jungle freaks.

They lack social charisma, grace or "politeness". Tarzan is very independent because he was raised in the jungle where he had to learn how to fend for himself. Similarly, Solar individuals also tend to be very socially independent which means they're often not the best at interacting on a group level. In order to be sociable, you have to emotionally connect with others, Tarzan's early life is not something anybody else can connect to, even if he adopts a more "civilized" behaviour, he's still going to stand out because of how he's lived his life. Even if they're welcomed into and accepted by society, Solar individuals struggle to relate to and emotionally connect to them.

Sun naks are generally known for being a bit emotion-less but in Krittika this manifests in a very "each for himself/herself" mentality that ISNT self-serving. I would say Krittika natives are the least selfish and most service oriented of all the 3 Sun nakshatras. They know that its a dog eat dog world, so they almost have a tendency to be the one who does all the brunt work so that their loved ones can be spared of it?

I'll mention some examples of "mannerless" Krittika men now:

youtube

Howard Stern, Uttarashada Sun Krittika Rising

This guy straight up is so RUDE and crass and vulgar with ALL of his guests????

Here is him talking to Matthew McConaughey about his father dying and Matt is no better in this clip either but like wtf?? who talks like that???

Lowkey Solar individuals LOVE to gossip and start shit between people.

Here is a compilation of him being creepy and disgusting to women on his show.

Dana Plato, the actress, committed suicide a day after appearing on his show in 1999. The humiliation she endured is said to have been her breaking point. Her son committed suicide on the 11th anniversary of her death.

When I tell you Solar men are emotionally abusive, either by being avoidant and ignoring you or by being condescending, patronising, openly mocking you and treating you like shit, BELIEVE ME.

Jordan Peterson- Krittika Rising

I dont know if I need to explain why Jordan is a mannerless misogynistic asshole.

Here are some remarks made by Kate Manne, a feminist expert, who critiqued Jordan's work:

"There’s an interesting moment in the book where Peterson talks about resentment as a “revelatory” emotion that can mean one of two things. One, you feel it because you’re immature, in which case you just need to buck up. Two, you feel resentment because you really are being oppressed or taken advantage of somehow. Your resentment shows you that something needs to change or that you need to assert yourself in relation to other people.

But there is clearly a third possibility. People often feel resentful because they appear, based on historically entrenched social norms, to be getting a bad bargain, when what’s actually happening is that others are getting a somewhat fairer deal. When you’re accustomed to unjust privilege, equality feels like oppression, as the saying goes." (link to the whole article)

This is such a classic example of the way Solar individuals think. They don't really think in terms of privilege, justice, fairness etc??? They just think you can work hard enough to erase all the other socio-economic-political barriers that make things harder for others?? This is of course until they've had first hand experience of difficulties of this sort lmao but they are naturally not wired to think too much, they're very simple minded, like Tarzan, that's why Sun is the most Yang of energies. Its a very action-goal oriented line of thought. They are almost incapable of thinking in abstract or trying to see things within the context and subtext in which it has occurred.

This is also why they are often very academically gifted. Naturally intelligent people struggle the most in school because their brains are not wired to endure the structure and mechanical system of learning that our education system enforces. Intelligence by definition necessitates that the person possessing it is capable of thinking unconventionally and that means finding the school environment really limiting or restrictive bc schools fr be killing the joy of learning.

Solar individuals thrive within these systems because they seldom, if ever, question the system itself, they just learn their material and write the exam. They do not think "unconventionally" or beyond the binary in any way. They accept what they learn to be true and they are more focused on working within the system to climb its ranks. If this is the system we're in, they want to be THE BEST in it and they will master all of its rules to work with it to beat it??

This is why all Solar naks are at the very top of the caste hierarchy, Krittika is a Brahmin nak whereas Uttaraphalguni & Uttarashadha are both Kshatriya naks

Solar individuals are lowkey one of the least empathetic types. I dont mean this to be harsh but they're not very emotionally intelligent and its really hard for them to read a room or intuitively pick up on how someone's feeling/what's on their mind. You reallyyyy need to spell things out for them. It does not come to them naturally to understand how others think or to put themselves in the shoes of others because for Solar individuals everything is kind of a competition and when its a battle of survival, you dont stop to think how your opponents are feeling? this is not to say that they're in "survival mode",, Solars are too unbothered to be in fight or flight 24/7, its just the Tarzan mindset tbh. If you're an animal in the jungle, the jungle is your home, you understand how it operates, how you must hunt or starve, you know what your odds are, you cant be here feeling too empathetic towards other creatures knowing full well that you have to hunt them down and eat them or otherwise starve yourself to death. Animals are comfortable, secure and chill in their habitat but they also understand the stakes so they're always survival minded? Because it truly is each for his/her own out there.

Mark Wahlberg- Krittika Stellium (Mercury, Venus AK and Saturn)

Wahlberg is an A class asshole. In the 80s he assaulted two elderly Vietnamese men and a group of black children all the while hurling racist abuses at them.

Here is a clip from one of his movies:

youtube

I know its a film but this is for real how Solar men view the world. They see everything as a "conquest". (Tarzan mentality)

The simple minded Tarzan mentality is also why in the books and movies, Tarzan is unable to cope with civilization and returns to the jungle. The author said it's because Tarzan saw the world as too corrupt which is perhaps true but it's also because having lived in a jungle where the ruled are pretty simple and standard, being a member of society means adhering to many unspoken ruled and conventions. Solar individuals find it THE hardest to do so and when they're actual being true to themselves, they act like apes of the Howard Stern school.

Salvador Dali, Krittika Stellium (Sun, Mercury & Mars)

To make matters worse, he was UBP Moon (the influence of multiple malefic planets makes one more prone to being an asshole) and I have extensively covered his wrongdoings in my post about Saturnian men

However, for now I want to focus on how Dali was a Nazi sympathizer,

He was also obsessed with Hitler in a perverse way and apparently had homoerotic fantasies of him lmao??

He was once quoted as saying:

"I often dreamed of Hitler as a woman. His flesh, which I had imagined whiter than white, ravished me… There was no reason for me to stop telling one and all that to me Hitler embodied the perfect image of the great masochist who would unleash a world war solely for the pleasure of losing and burying himself beneath the rubble of an empire; the gratuitous action par excellence that should indeed have warranted the admiration of the Surrealists."

He was a big old fascist who also supported the Spanish dictator Franco which made Picasso stop talking to him for the rest of his life.

In 1975, when General Franco executed many people, hundreds and thousands of fascists gathered in support of Franco, chanting his name and making fascists salutes. When the world condemned this appalling act, Dali praised Franco and called him the “greatest hero of Spain.”

George Orwell, a strong critic of the fascist rule in Spain, despised Dali and wrote —

“During the Spanish Civil War, he astutely avoids taking sides and makes a trip to Italy. He feels himself more and more drawn towards the aristocracy, frequents smart salons, finds himself wealthy patrons, and is photographed with the plump Vicomte de Noailles, whom he describes as his ‘Maecenas.’”

Salvador Dali was nicknamed ávida dollars (“eager for dollars”) by his former surrealist friends for selling his consciousness and idealism for money and fame.

Average Solar behaviour

When I talk about Tarzan mentality, I'm referring to how lions dont feel remorse at the thought of killing deers. Its not in their nature to feel remorse. The hierarchy of the eco system is such that lions are predators and its their job to hunt. They are by biological design, carnivores. Its a bit sickening to think of how like animals, who have no choice but to be brutal to survive, Solar individuals often have this ruthless ambition to do absolutely anything to get ahead in life. The world we live in, is a capitalist, patriarchal world and the people who thrive in it are ones who are willing to overlook or dont see the faults in the system at all.

The ones who sit at the very top of the pyramid did not get there by being compassionate angels. 3/4 Brahmin caste naks are "ugra" or violent nakshatras, Krittika is the exception, as it is a "mishra" nakshatra (mishra means "mixed"). The ones at the very top are the most brutal and fierce. There is no other way to get to the top in this world.

Carrie Fisher, Krittika Moon

The singer James Blunt (Shatabhisha stellium) who was besties with Carrie, wrote in his memoir:

“I was closer to Carrie than almost anyone else in the world, except my wife. She told me which girlfriends weren’t suitable, was the first person I told when I met my wife, and we chose engagement rings for her together.

She also knew where every unmarked grave of mine lay and where every guilt stemmed from. She was complicit too. When I arrived home one morning with a love bite on my neck, and my girlfriend of the moment about to arrive, Carrie grabbed her 16-year-old daughter and gave her a love bite as well.

Then Carrie summoned me over, offering her own neck, and told me to give her a love bite. When the girlfriend arrived, we all had love bites.

There was also an issue with drugs. Carrie had long been open about her addiction, but at some point it was obvious enough to be of concern.

I stood many times at the foot of her bed at 3am listening to the laboured breathing of someone sounding close to death on heavy medication. Not long before she died, I asked her to be godmother to my son, telling her that I wanted her to take care of herself so that he might know her when he grew up.

Charlie, her best friend, confronted her more directly and told her she needed to quit drugs, but was ostracised by her as a result. I took a different approach and did them with her, pretending to myself that I would guide her to redemption one day – just not today.

The lies we tell ourselves are the hardest to forgive. As a result, her daughter Billie blames me in part for her death, and no longer speaks to me. They buried Carrie’s ashes in a giant ceramic Prozac pill. You can see a picture of it on the CD disc of my first album. There are only two of them in the world, and the other one is my most treasured possession.”

Krittika being a "mishra" or mixed nak means that its just as capable of being tender as it is of being destructive. There are only 2 mishra naks. The other one is Vishaka.

Carrie took James in before he had even made his debut and he lived with her and recorded the songs of his first album in her house. They had a long lasting friendship, all of this points to the kind, nurturing, almost maternal nature of Krittika but the other behaviour he mentioned, including the love bite giving lmao?? Krittika is a Solar nak and they wouldnt be who they are if they weren't competitive for no reason lol and ostracizing people who mean well??? Solarcore AF

I assure you trying to give advice to a Solar is pointless because like the Sun, they too are blinded by their own light, they see nothing, they comprehend nothing except their own projections. Plato's allegory of the cave was about Solars, I swear lmao. The truth can be very very obvious to absolutely everybody else but a Solar WILL NOT SEE IT

They embody this meme:

They're very low on emotional intelligence tbh. You could tell a Solar that someone almost murdered you and they'd be like "oh he's not very nice, is he?" 😭😭😭 I think it's also part of their simple minded Tarzan thinking. They take everything at face value and are straightforward to a fault. They just don't know or understand how crooked people can be.

I have Krittika Moon friend who is dating a Hasta Moon man (Solar x Lunar couples 🤧) and he was disgusting to me IN FRONT OF HER and he's been nasty af to many other women we all know and she wasn't his girlfriend at the time. But even after she knew all of this, she went on to date him and now they've been together for over a year lmao 🤮🤢🤮

They do not see the faults with themselves or with people they love. They live in a bubble of delulu and completely believe that all that glitters IS GOLD. They can be soooo naive, its insane. Theyre naive girls in bad bitch packaging.

Solar individuals struggle more than any other type to understand that things are not always black and white and that real life is veryyy complicated because people are complicated. In the jungle, such abstractions do not exist, things are very black and white, you can easily arrive at solutions by thinking in a very binary way. Sun nakshatras are focused on survival and this mentality warps their mindset from perceiving things in a more complex and nuanced way.

I want to emphasize once more that survival mentality is NOT being in flight/fight mode,, its more so about operating from a place of maximum efficiency and cutting out all the unnecessary bullshit. But being in survival mode is not living. We are not animals and there is more to life than just...surviving.. and thriving..

Solar individuals are the type for whom every kind of experience is a status symbol of some sort. Be it being desired, succeeding at school/work, making x amount of money, they dgaf about "enjoying" things, they are absolutely not the "stop to smell the roses" type, they want to be like the people who they envy or look up to, they want all those markers of success. Ask them about their motivations and you'll seldom hear of an emotional one.

They're mostly driven by a need to do well in life just because. We live in a world where money is king, and where certain things are conventional indicators of success and even if they have absolutely no desire for a certain kind of house, or car or brand or relationship, they do not want to be perceived as someone who is incapable of having it???? so they work hard to get it?? They get it for show, basically.

There is a reason why the ONLY nak without a yoni consort is a Solar nakshatra (Uttarashada). The height of Solar energy is such that its truly each for his/her own, no partners whatsoever.

Jack London, Uttarashadha Sun

He wrote books like a The Call of the Wild and numerous other adventure stories which are all about surviving in the wild by yourself lol

Its funny how literally the themes of certain naks and planetary influences are made manifest

Richard Gadd- Krittika Sun and Venus

He is the star and maker of Baby Reindeer, which, if you really think about it, is a survival story. You have got to ask yourself is someone subject you to brutal stalking of the kind Gadd was subject to, would you spend YEARS of your career performing and reliving it? There could be many reasons why he chose to do so and many have found it highly problematic how a man whose privacy was so brutally invaded for so long would do so little to properly hide the identities of the real people he's talking about (his stalker was found out by netizens and she's been receiving death threats etc).

I feel like it points to the nature of the Sun. They will have the last word always and even when they're losing, they'll drag you down with them. But beyond that, I feel like it points to the ambition and tenacity of Krittika and their sheer will power.

Pitbull, Uttarashadha Sun, Krittika Moon & Rising

His life story is extremely Solar

The "American dream" tbh is a very Yang one and a very Solar one

He was born in USA to immigrant parents.His family has a history of fighting against the Castro regime in Cuba. When he was three, he could recite the works of Cuban national hero and poet José Martí in Spanish. He learned English by watching Sesame Street as a child. His father was largely absent from his childhood; his parents separated when he was young, and he was raised mostly by his mother, later stating: "my mom is my father and my mother." He briefly stayed with a foster family in Roswell, Georgia. His parents struggled with substance abuse; as a teenager, he was also involved with drug use and dealing, which eventually led to him getting kicked out of the family house.

Divorce, war, natural calamities, destruction of any kind is veryyy common for people born under Krittika, Ardra, Uttarashadha, Jyeshta, Ashlesha nakshatras.

Pitbull's parents were separated, they fled Cuba, he was kicked out and was literally left to fend for himself.

He said he chose his stage name of Pitbull because the dogs "bite to lock. The dog is too stupid to lose. And they're outlawed in Dade County. They're basically everything that I am. It's been a constant fight". Literally so Solarcoded??

I'll end this post here, I have more posts to come about Krittika and Solar naks so stay tuned. I hope this was insightful

I am sooooo sorry that I have been soooo slow with my uploads lately,, I just have a lot on my plate atm 😭😭😭I am going to try my best to be more consistent cause I want to finish this series asap as I have several other pending posts to make UGHH

#solar naks #krittika #uttaraphalguni #uttarashada #vedic astro notes #astrology notes #sidereal astrology #astro notes #astrology observations #astroblr #astrology #astro observations #vedic astrology #nakshatras #astro community #jyotish

172 notes · View notes

nightmanatee · 5 months ago

Text

But almost completely absent from the upfront festivities was Doctor Who, the iconic British sci-fi series that Disney+ now co-produces with the BBC following what was undoubtedly one of the biggest global TV show deals of the past decade. Doctor Who was handed a minor bit of real estate at the North Javits, but its lack of front-and-center placement may spin a yarn about the series’ position in the Disney priority log nearly three years on from the deal being struck.

Noises that it may not last beyond its initial two seasons are already reverberating around international TV circles, and one source close to the production tells us that they feel its future hangs in the balance already. Disney, the BBC, and co-producers BBC Studios and Bad Wolf all declined Deadline’s interview requests for this article.

“I thought it was a mixed bag,” says Tony Jordan, Society Co-ordinator of the 30,000-strong Doctor Who Appreciation Society, who says this feeling broadly reflects that of the mega fans he speaks with regularly. “When Russell’s return was announced I thought, ‘That’s fantastic’ but maybe I remembered the good stuff and chose to forget the not so good stuff. His track record of ending seasons with two parters has been widely varying in success, for example.”

When consolidated seven-day viewing figures were taken into account, the entire series averaged an audience down almost 1.5 million per episode compared to Whittaker’s last in 2021, according to Barb data supplied by overnights.tv, while it failed to light up Barb’s daily seven-day streaming rankings, which were at the time dominated by the likes of Baby Reindeer and Clarkson’s Farm, and evergreens such as EastEnders.

One of our sources close to the production believes Disney will “need to make a decision” on its future relationship with the show soon after The War Between the Land and the Sea wraps, and this could have a bearing on how long the in-demand Gatwa ... this source predicts the final episode has been left open-ended, with the possibility remaining that Gatwa could regenerate into his successor if he chooses to exit. Gatwa’s agents hadn’t responded to Deadline’s request for comment by press time.

take it with a grain of salt but not only is gatwa not sure if he wants to stay in the show, not only the ratings keep dropping down (i hate talking about them but maybe disney isn't), not only is disney now in doubt but the whole "lets bring back old showrunner old actors old writers etc etc and make a deal with a big mouse" is not a... good idea???

wow who (me) could've thought.

#forever grateful this show didn't end with chibnall so noone can blame him when it ends in 2 seasons #(or everyone still will but whatever)#it's not like disney bought the rights AFTER chibnall's seasons and considers dropping it after rtd #or wait it is #the budget is wrong tho i think it's less than 10m$#but still #anti rtd #mutuals you'll love this #doctor who

116 notes · View notes

blurredcolour · 8 months ago

Text

The Only Truth... | Part Four

The Only Truth I Know Is You Masterlist

John "Bucky" Egan x POW Flight Nurse!Female Reader

The day Stalag VIIA is liberated ought to be one of pure celebration. Unfortunately, fate has other plans in store.

Warnings: Language, Angst, Death, Blood, Brief Battle, Serious Reader Injury [gunshot wound], POW Camp Setting, SS Officers, Mental Health Struggles, References to Christianity, Reader Scars, Hospital Setting, Kissing, Inevitable Historical and Military Inaccuracies, Rating - 18+ ONLY.

Author’s Note: Thank you all ever so much for your patience! At last we come to the end of our tale. This is a work of fiction based off the portrayal by the actors in the Apple TV+ series. I hold nothing but respect for the real life individuals referenced within.

Word Count: 6267

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

The morning of Sunday, April 29, 1945, dawned cloudy but bright. The chill of early spring still hung in the air, your breath hanging from your lips as you ducked out into the tent to collect the clean yet still-unfolded laundry that had been awaiting your attention throughout the drama of the rainstorm. You had just managed to tuck it away into your room when Fitzgibbons arrived with a new book for you to read, a more recently published fantasy novel called The Hobbit, though you had other priorities before diving into it.

You had almost gotten away with your clandestine chores, rags folded, and three-quarters of the bandages rolled, when your former surgical technician appeared at your door, knocking on the frame with an admonishing look on his face.

“I see you’re taking it easy on your day off, Ma’am.”

Huffing in irritation at being caught, you shook your head. “I’m off my feet, Fitz, can’t we just call a truce?”

He made a non-committal noise before cracking a grin. “Actually came to ask a favor, so I’m thinking we can come to an agreement. Menzies,” his deliberate mispronunciation of the British Captain’s name made you roll your eyes affectionately, “ordered me to flush a wound using your make-shift tools and honestly, I cannot make heads or tails of what you’ve jerry-rigged.”

Biting back a laugh, you nodded quickly, well aware that your cobbled-together system was more than a little unorthodox and not at all surprised Menzies had not taken the time to ensure Fitzgibbons knew how it worked. “Certainly, let me walk you through it.”

Grabbing the laundry you had thus far folded, you made your way down the hall to collect the items from the supply desk and followed him to the bedside of a new patient. Introducing yourself warmly, you learned the man’s name was Michaels and he hailed from the frigid wilds of Canada.

“Fitz and I are going to use this here to flush that wound, alright?” You nodded to the nasty laceration on his calf, your makeshift instruments cradled in your arms.

“Sounds fine, Ma’am.” He nodded patiently, vowels clipped remarkably short in that efficient Canuck way of speaking.

“Alright so if you take this, Fitz.” You held out a funnel with a piece of tubing secured to it, watching the tech take it carefully.

The mundane calm of the morning was shattered by the sudden hum of an airplane engine, your eyes shooting to meet Fitzgibbons’ sharply moments before the eruption of gunfire.

“Everyone get down!” He shouted and you both lurched into motion to begin helping your patients from their cots onto the wooden planks of the tent platform, abandoning your instruments on Michaels’ cot.

Panic rising as you once again found yourself in a wildly unsafe place while under fire, you urged the men from their beds to get low, presenting smaller targets for the errant bullets that were punching holes through the canvas of the tent every so often. The cacophony outside only increased with the rumble of approaching vehicles – tanks quite possible given the depth of sound that carried across the camp – and you nearly tripped over your own feet in an effort to reach the last two patients who simply could not move on their own.

Heaving one, Sidhu from India, out of his cot and depositing him onto the floor, you were just sliding your arms beneath the shoulders of the last, Hernandez from Texas, when searing heat and pain punched into your side. Your arms and legs gave out beneath you instantly, your body collapsing atop the poor boy still on his cot, both of you gasping for breath. With a grunt of annoyance, you flung a hand back to your hip, eyes widening as your fingertips were quickly covered in a warm, slick fluid.

“M…Ma’am?!” Hernandez warbled from beneath you, watching as you lifted your fingers to inspect just what was going on, his face blanching at the unmistakable scarlet of blood. “Doc?! Medic!! Help!!!” He began to shriek all the words he knew to summon assistance, making you wince at the racket as you forced yourself to roll off him, crashing to the floor in a pile of uncooperative limbs.

Taking a moment to try and catch your breath, pulse rocketing at an alarming rate, you began to realize that no matter how long you lay there, things were not improving. In fact the situation was growing a lot more serious as a deep ache was settling into your right side and you could feel your clothes growing damper with blood by the second. Rolling onto your stomach, you had just begun to feebly pull yourself across the floor of the tent when the racket outside subsided momentarily, Hernandez’s cries summoning several sets of boots to run in your direction.

A great, external cheer erupted in the same moment you were lifted by many hands onto one of the recently vacated cots, Chalmers, Menzies and Fitzgibbons all hovering above you as they yanked at your shirt and pants to get at your wound. The striking similarity between your plight and that of Simms set your teeth on edge, tears brimming in your eyes at the sudden thought that this could really be it. You might very well die here in these filthy, mud-covered clothes while the rest of the camp cheered on outside.

“Keep breathing for me, Nurse. You’ve got an entry and an exit wound, you just stay with us now.” Chalmers barked firmly and you managed a brief nod despite the shakes that seemed to want to rattle your bones. “Fitz go find out if they’ve got a Medic with them – we need sulfa and plasma, and she needs an aid station and surgery.”

“Sir!” He replied before you heard his frantic footfalls leave the tent.

Menzies applied a ruthless amount of pressure to the front and back of your hip and it was all you could do not to wail pathetically at the lances of pain that shot through you. “I know, Nurse, I know. For your own good, now. Why’d you have to go and get yourself shot in the middle of our liberation, hm?”

“Libe.r.ation?” It was difficult to form the word, your mouth clumsy and filled with cotton, head buzzing with adrenaline and pain.

Your heart was beginning to lose its rhythm, stuttering and skipping beats every so often. Your medical training offered a whispered explanation of ‘blood loss’ which did nothing for the suffocating feeling of panic in your chest.

“Looks like your American Army showed up to bring you home, so let’s make sure you can get there alright?” Chalmers added firmly and you nodded again, trying to take deep breaths.

You were so close. They were right there.

What had started as a frigid day seemed to be growing colder, your fingers tips positively icy by the time you heard Fitzgibbons return, giving someone a rundown. The familiarity of it made your heart ache for a simpler time when the two of you were the ones saving people, taking them from danger to safety. Now you were the one in peril, finding it remarkably difficult to keep your eyes open. The unfamiliar face of a young man in an Army helmet came into view before you felt the sting of sulfa on your wounds.

Your left sleeve was rolled up, your nonsensical protests going unheeded as the man began to search for a vein, inserting an IV for the bottle of cheery yellow plasma – the bright color anachronistic to the monochromatic color palette that pervaded the Stalag. Bandages were wrapped tightly around your middle once more and they were just about to lift you, cot and all, when another set of heavy footfalls sounded on the floorboards.

“Jesus christ…angelfish…” Bucky’s voice was unmistakable, though anguished, and you rolled your head to the side to look at him with a weak smile.

“Bucky.” You managed to form his nickname at a volume no more than a whisper, vision narrowing in on his pinched, tight features, the normally rosy hue completely drained from his cheeks.

Suddenly everything tilted and whirled as your cot was hoisted onto the shoulders of Chalmers, Menzies, Fitzgibbons, and the Medic.

“Take the plasma, Egan. Hold it up, keep pace.” Chalmers ordered sharply and the ceiling of the tent began to blur as they rushed out into the daylight, your vision going completely white before all was darkness.

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

The morning had seemed like any other, crowded around a small campfire trying to keep warm, trading suppositions about the end of the war with Jefferson, when the unmistakable sound of an aircraft engine had broken through the din of the camp.

“Hey Macon, that’s a P-51!” Jefferson had shouted and instantly the entire population was on their feet, cheering on the pilot as he took out on of the guard towers.

Their elation was short lived, the abrupt sound of incoming artillery sending all the prisoners into the dirt as every single German soldier seemed to open fire as one, the camp instantly an active battlefield. Bucky’s eyes strayed to the hospital tent, its canvas walls helplessly pinned between the encroaching American tanks and the defending German guards. They needed to put a stop to this from the inside before any more lives were needlessly lost. Even as this thought crossed his mind, men were falling all around him.

“Fellas! Take out the tower!” Bucky shouted as he ran for the tent where the majority of the Americans were sheltering, seeking out the homemade stars and stripes they had carefully crafted and transported from camp to camp, kept hidden from goons, just for such an occasion.

It took a few tries before Jefferson successfully came up with the flag, passing it to him quickly. Dashing through the chaos of prisoners running hither and thither through the camp, some fleeing, some fighting guards, Bucky was boosted onto the roof of the administration building. The flagpole was less than sturdy as he climbed it but as he removed the Nazi war flag and tossed it to the cheering crowd below, the guns fell quiet. Securing the ragtag American flag, watching the breeze immediately catch and fly it high, an immense feeling of relief wash through him and after taking a moment to celebrate, he pressed his forehead to the hand-hewn timber of the pole to soak in his gratitude for making it this far. Though the ragged appearance of his country’s flag undoubtedly mirrored his own.

As he carefully climbed down the rickety pole, his eyes caught on a somewhat familiar figure running frantically through the crowd toward the gate, moving against the flow of those milling around the yard, celebrating. The man’s shouts carried intermittently on the wind across the crowd and Bucky managed to pick out “Medic,” his heartrate picking up at the word “Nurse.” His stomach dropped when the word “shot” reached his ears.

“Angelfish.” He whispered and quickly scrambled his way off the roof, wincing a little at his rough landing, before he began to shove his own way through the oblivious celebrants towards the hospital.

Skidding to a stop on the threshold of the tent, he was startled to find all the patients cowering beneath their cots while you lay on one of their abandoned beds, a bloody mess surrounded by men frantically trying to save you.

“Jesus christ…angelfish…” He choked out, throat clenching painfully as your head lolled to the side, slightly unfocused eyes meeting his.

“Bucky.” Your faint whisper of his name propelled him forward, a frown settling over his features at the state of your clothes, wanting nothing more than to cover up the expanse of your abdomen and the scar on your arm – you surely hated to have that so prominently on display.

Chalmers’ sudden directive for him to manage the plasma grabbed his attention and he quickly grasped the glass bottle, holding it high as they lifted the entire bed to begin carrying you out of there.

“Just hold on, angelfish.” He rasped, heart lurching painfully as your eyes rolled back in your head, your body going slack.

Running alongside you to the gate despite the way his lungs ached, the crowd mercifully parted before their odd little group. A jeep was waiting with a stretcher strapped to the back, and Bucky watched helplessly as your unsettlingly limp form was transferred from the cot, the bottle of plasma wrenched from his fingers by the Medic before he perched atop your legs. As the vehicle took off, the Lieutenant Colonel of the armored division strode over sternly.

“How the devil did a nurse end up as a POW?” He demanded as Lieutenant Colonel Clark came to stand on Bucky’s right.

Chalmer’s sighed deeply before sharing what he knew of your story, of your arrival back in January including the fact that the Red Cross was informed through the usual process, and how you were housed separately in the hospital. As Fitzgibbons, the very same surgical technician you had earned your burns pulling out of your plane, filled in the rest of your service history, Bucky could only reflect on how little he really knew you. How short his time with you had actually amounted to be. Hell, he would not have even known your squadron number if it was not for that conversation right then.

“What a SNAFU.” The man muttered and Bucky could certainly see the resemblance of the man’s commanding officer, Patton, in him. “Well, let’s get this formal surrender over with so we can get these boys home.”

Clark nodded in return and Bucky shuffled back to sit heavily amongst the men of the 100th, waving off Brady’s look of concern. Watching the salutes and handshakes, he was completely numb, his thoughts miles away with wherever they had taken you, only able to hope against hope that their aid station was of the highest calibre.

Bucky had not resorted to prayer often throughout the war. Sure he had worn a crucifix and crossed himself reflexively when flying into a hail of flak, but conversations with higher beings had never been something he had put much stock in. Faced, now, with this gnawing feeling of helplessness, your very survival in the balance, it seemed like the only tool left at his disposal.

Crammed into the tent that night, shoulder-to-shoulder with his neighbors, he felt rusty and self-conscious as he addressed the god of his childhood Sunday school and fairly begged for you to make it. He stopped short of bargaining his own life away, but barely, before sleep overtook his aching body, the exertions of the day overtaking him.

As he found himself jostling in the back of a transport truck on his way to Paris the next day, handpicked by Lieutenant Colonel Clark to be among the first sent back to England, he could not help but feel as though he was being driven further and further away from you. It was near night by the time they pulled into the base and Bucky took his first warm shower in over a year, changing into a fresh uniform and feeling almost human. They were served white bread that might as well have been cake, with steak and eggs that were too rich for him to endure more than a few bites before he crawled into a remarkably clean bed and slept deeply, exhaustion winning out over his continuous concern for your well being.

Climbing into the belly of a B-17 for the first time in over eighteen months felt awkward and painful, the crew from the 100th consisting of unfamiliar replacements, the space feeling more cramped than it ever had as he wedged himself into the cockpit behind the pilot. The deep-seated terror he had desperately been trying to supress, his fear that Buck had not made it to safety despite their planning and the beating he had taken to distract the guards, surged to the fore of his mind. It competed ruthlessly with his anxiety over whether you were still drawing breath, the fact that he may have to face the truth of losing both of you leaving him silent and withdrawn as the plane took flight.

There was no immediate answer awaiting him at Thorpe Abbotts either, no familiar faces lining the tarmac – not even Lemmons was around, which struck him as unsettlingly odd. Making his way to the CO’s hut, his eyes at last landed on a familiar face as Herrmann emerged from one the equipment sheds.

“Hey Winks! Where is everybody? Guy comes back after a year-and-a-half and no one’s around?” He plastered on a playful smirk as the boy’s face broke out into a grin of astonishment, shaking his hand vigorously as he rushed over.

“Buck took Rosie, Douglass, Croz, and Kenny up on one of those mercy missions they’ve been practicing for, they should be back any time now, sir. Gosh it’s great to see you back here.”

Bucky’s attention immediately snagged on the first name Herrmann mentioned, finding it immensely difficult to continue listening as he exhaled half of the tension that had strangled him all the way across the English Chanel. “Good to be back, Winks. Think you can give me a lift?” He raised an eyebrow, desperate for a moment of levity.

With a quick nod, Herrmann was promptly driving him towards the control tower. The most difficult part of getting up there was making it past all the congratulatory pats and handshakes, but Bucky was able to pull off his surprise, the sound of Cleven’s voice over the radio going a long way to mending some of the deep wounds he was still sporting.

More handshakes and pats-on-the-back awaited him at the hardstand and it finally felt like he was back amongst the familiar faces of these men. He did not miss the way Cleven’s eyes were quietly scrutinizing him, however. The gratingly familiar feeling that his friend was looking right through him was undeniable as he joked and smiled with the boys who had never been imprisoned. Who had not endured the things they had. As the crowd around them thinned out, Bucky turned to watch Cleven pull out one of his toothpicks, sliding it between his molars in a familiar yet long-lost motion.

“So what you been up to since I left?” His friend asked.

Bucky swallowed and shrugged a little walking over to the jeep, Cleven immediately sliding into the passenger’s seat out of habit.

“That terrible, huh?” Cleven muttered and Bucky sighed as the vehicle roared to life.

“Ended up in Moosburg.” He started out slow, with simple facts. “Got a little hurt on the way, so Brady and Hambone took me to the hospital. Turns out there was a Nurse there, POW since January.”

The look of shock on his friend’s face registered in the corner of his eye and Bucky did not have the heart to fully face him.

“The German’s held a woman prisoner?” Cleven shook his head with a sigh of dismay.

“She got shot during the liberation, stray bullet. Medics from the armored division took her and I have no idea if she made it.” Now that he had started telling the story it all just came pouring out of him.

“You care about her more than just on moral grounds.” Cleven stated matter-of-factly and Bucky sighed as he pulled up in front of what used to be their hut.

Who knew if it still was.

“Yes.” He begrudgingly admitted, though his admission was addressed to the steering wheel.

There was a long, drawn-out silence, the incessant chirping of sparrows filling in the gap in conversation and Bucky realized he had not really heard a bird his entire time in captivity. His head snapped sharply to look at Cleven as he suddenly spoke again.

“If anyone can find someone in the chain of evacuation it’ll be Smokey.”

Bucky furrowed his brows a moment before it clicked. “Doc Stover? You think?”

Cleven shrugged. “He’s our best shot I guess.”

“Our…”

“Are you going to drive us to the hospital, or should I?”

A grin pulled at Bucky’s lips as he started the jeep back up and took a sharp U-turn, heading for the base hospital. He pretended not to notice the way his friend’s eyes lingered on the stiff movement of his body as he climbed out of the jeep – he was definitely sore but was most certainly not going to admit to it. The wards were just as populated as they had been in 1943, something he found rather infuriating. It was another feeling he tucked into a neat little package and shoved down to be ignored until a more convenient time. Or perhaps never to be acknowledged again.

Stover was easy to find, dressed in his white coat, just finishing his rounds.

“Majors, what can I do for you?” He gestured for them to follow him into his office and Bucky sank down into a chair heavily, once again ignoring another man’s assessing gaze on him.

“Well it’s an odd request really but…” He trailed off, hesitating as he smoothed his too-long hair, reflecting once again that he needed a proper haircut.

“We’re wondering if you might be able to track someone down for us. Someone who was injured at a camp in Moosburg and evacuated to an aid station.

Stover raised an eyebrow curiously. “One of your fellow POWs?”

“Something like…. well yeah, she is.” Bucky corrected himself midway through, watching the doctor’s eyebrows shoot up dramatically. “Flight Nurse from the 802nd MAES, POW at Moosburg since January of ’45, shot during liberation and taken to the aid station of Patton’s 3rd Army – armored division. Which division I don’t know.”

They watched as Stover quickly grabbed a pen and started jotting down the important details, including your name.

“How bad was she hurt?” Stover asked and Bucky swallowed tightly.

“I didn’t see it happen but there was a gunshot to her stomach somewhere. They got her on plasma quickly.” He added hopefully but Stover’s face remained grim.

“I can’t promise you anything Major Egan, it doesn’t sound particularly hopeful either, but I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thanks, Doc.” He nodded, leveraging himself out of the chair with a barely concealed wince.

“And what do you have going on?” Stover stayed seated, eyeing him expectantly.

Bucky noticed Cleven had not budged either, the bastard. Emptying his lungs with a heavy exhale, Bucky put his hands on his hips and shrugged.

“Couple of broken ribs, I’ll be alright.” He replied nonchalantly.

“And how old are these broken ribs?” Stover prodded and Bucky ignored Cleven’s pointed look up at him.

“Couple weeks, I’m halfway mended, just overdid it getting in the fort to come back.”

Stover rose from behind his desk and opened a cabinet, fetching a bottle and holding it out to him. “Aspirin, to keep you comfortable. Take two every four hours as long as you need. Come back if you run out.”

Bucky accepted the bottle with a nod of thanks, the memory of you scrounging up two rare pills for him in the Stalag flooding back, furrowing his brows. The things you could have done in a place like this with limitless supply.

“Thanks again, Doc.” Cleven’s expression of gratitude pierced through his reminiscing and Bucky nodded quickly, tucking the pills into his pocket before heading out quietly.

Accommodations were procured and there was not much for him to do around base aside from rest and learn how to eat properly once more. It took several days for any news of your condition to reach him, via Stover’s connections, but when the man pulled him into his office on the morning of the May 5, he was stunned to learn that not only were you alive, but that you had been air evacuated to Redgrave Hospital just thirty minutes away from Thorpe Abbotts.

You were safe. You were close.

“Seems they weren’t quite certain what to do with her, but as she serves under the Army Air Force, they sent her to our main hospital.” Bucky realized Stover was still talking and he shot him a warm grin before grasping his hand to shake firmly.

“Well I really appreciate your help, Doc. I’ve gotta…” Bucky glanced over his shoulder at the door, desperate to make his way to you.

“Yeah, go…” He chuckled and shooed him out of his office.

No longer a squadron commander, Bucky technically did not have a jeep of his own to disappear with off base and so he was in the process of grabbing one of the stray bikes outside the control tower when Crosby emerged into the daylight, eyes squinting in fatigue at the brightness.

“Where are you off to Major?”

“Redgrave Hospital!” He replied brightly, watching the younger man blink.

“Sir that’s a good eleven miles, that’s a terrible idea with your ribs.”

Word seemed to have spread fast…

“Take my jeep, I’m not gonna need it today.”

“Croz, you are a lifesaver.” Bucky dropped the bike he had been wrangling to slap him on the back before diving into the jeep allotted for use by the Group Navigator. “I’ll be back!” He shouted, taking off in a spray of dust and gravel.

Turning onto the two-hundred-acre country estate, Redgrave Hospital, consisting of nearly forty Nissen huts, stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the trees and landscaped green. As he pulled up to the headquarters of the hospital, Bucky quickly realized that the staff there were not nearly as excited to see him. In fact, they were downright reluctant to allow him in to visit you, but assured him that while you were ‘heavily medicated and resting’ you were still ‘on the mend.’

While relief still permeated his system, it was a new agony to have you so very close and yet still out of his reach. If they were not going to permit him as a regular visitor, Bucky realized he was going to have to get a lot more creative in order to lay his eyes on you, and until he did, there would be not real peace.

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

Moments of clarity punctured through the blackness – a blur of trees, the flurry of activity of an aid station, the masked face of a surgeon speaking to you reassuringly, the heartbreakingly familiar interior of a C-47 – but it was not until you were settled in a bed inside a hospital with four walls, windows, and nurses that true cognizance really returned to you. Casting your eyes around the sterile, white space, you noted you were situated at the end of a row and walled off from other patients with a set of privacy screens. The most striking feature of this hospital was the very stern-faced Bucky parked in a chair to the left of your bed.

As you began to stir, his eyes lifted quickly to meet yours, some of the tension easing from his frame. “Have a good rest, angelfish?” he whispered, and you furrowed your brows up at him, so full of questions. “They got you on the good stuff don’t they.” He chuckled fondly, reaching out to brush his fingertips across your cheek tenderly.

“Kick a girl when she’s down, why don’t you.” You sighed, speech slightly slurred from pain medication and the dryness in your mouth, but still capable of using his own lines against him.

His resulting grin contained all the brilliance of the sun and made you look down with a self-satisfied smirk. Your eyes immediately fell on your exposed arms laying atop the blanket, the scarring along your left forearm lain bare for all to see. Jerking your hands back roughly, you clumsily tried to shove them beneath the covers despite the warmth on the ward. Bucky’s gentle tut before his hand came to rest atop yours halted your attempt.

“Shhh, you’re just fine you brave, beautiful woman. Stay right there.” He murmured as he laced his fingers with yours, pinning your arm to rest above the blanket. “You have nothing to hide or be ashamed of.”

Swallowing thickly, you slowly lifted your gaze to meet his. “I think I’ve acquired a few more…” You sighed, the feeling of thick bandages padding your hip acutely registering as you spoke.

“Probably.” He nodded softly. “You also probably saved that boy Hernandez by taking the bullet, so I’d say they were well earned. Besides, they’ll make an excellent target for my mouth one day.”

Your soft smile transformed into a look of disbelief, your free hand rising to whack his shoulder gently. “John Clarence Egan.” You chided half-heartedly and he pressed his face to the side of your head where it lay propped up against several pillows, his heavy exhale ruffling through your hair. “We are in a hospital, and you are making inappropriate jokes.”

“Mmmm.” He hummed in agreement, stroking his thumb against yours affectionately.

“Which hospital is this, anyway?” You asked curiously, finding its curved roof and white walls lacked distinguishing features.

“Redgrave Hospital, you serve in the Army Air Force after all.” He pulled back slightly to answer.

“Redgrave…” you repeated thoughtfully. “Sounds awfully English.”

“Hit the nail on the head, angelfish. We made it.” Bucky’s lips brushed against your temple, and you smiled softly. “Despite our best efforts.” His teasing made you laugh softly, and you shook your head.

“If we’re in England, where’s the King?” You raised an eyebrow expectantly and he smirked, shaking his head.

“No King, unfortunately, but I did bring you this?” He reached behind him, pulling out a newspaper to lay across your lap.

“Victory in Europe.” You read the headline aloud, pausing a moment as the words sunk in before gasping and looking to him wide-eyed. “Truly?”

A look of solemn earnestness overtook his features and he nodded softly. “Truly. German army surrendered yesterday.”

You gulped roughly and looked back to ready to date of May 8, 1945, on the top of the paper – you had lost nearly nine days. You really had been so close, everyone had. And the fact that you were here, and others were not seemed so very arbitrary. Sighing heavily, you squeezed his hand gently.

“By the skin of our teeth.” You murmured thickly, looking up as a nurse shuffled past with a faint nod of acknowledgement before making a sharp about-face to come and check your vitals.

“How’re you feeling?” She asked you and you nodded slowly.

“I’m alright, thank you. Bit foggy but things are the clearest they’ve been in days.”

“I’m going to fetch the Doctor.” The nurse turned to eye Bucky sharply. “You’d best make yourself scarce.” She commented before continuing on her way.

“How on earth did you get in here?” You raised an eyebrow as you came to realize how unusual his presence was.

“Bought my way in with a few bottles of champagne – your flightless comrades are quite friendly if one knows the price.”

You coughed out a laugh as the comment made Nurses sound like some species of bird and his lips twitched into a smile, your eyes unable to look away from the soft, rosy skin of his mouth.

“Hey before you go…”

“Hmmm?” He turned to you, half risen from his chair.

“I don’t have the mental capacity to think of something self-deprecating right now, so can I just get a kiss?” You murmured before pursing your lips shyly.

His face transformed into a warm smile, eyes crinkling adorably at the corners as the tips of his ears flushed pink. “I always said you just had to ask, angelfish.”

Echoing his smile, you turned your lips up expectantly as he braced his hand on the pillow beside your head, leaning in to gently brush his lips against yours, drawing a contented sigh from deep beneath your breastbone. Bucky’s lips pressed closer, a tender hum rumbling from his throat just as a sharp cough sounded from the end of the bed and he slowly pulled back with a rueful huff.

“Just checking her breathing, Doc.” Bucky grinned wolfishly as the man raised an eyebrow sharply. “She’s doing great.”

“Hn.” The doctor intoned, clearly unimpressed. “And how are your ribs doing, Major Egan?”

Inhaling sharply, you looked him over quickly, the litany of his injuries flooding back to you from your sub-conscious.

“Much better, thank you Doc. Who knew Smokey was such a gossip. Well, angelfish,” he brushed his knuckles down your cheek, “guess that’s my cue.”

Nodding slowly, wondering who on earth Smokey might be, you watched him leave before your Doctor took over, running through numerous checks with you before discussing the extent of your injury and the surgeries that had been performed to save your life. It was nothing short of remarkable, what they had thrown at you to prevent your death, the conversation a very sobering one. It would be a long road to recovery, and one, it turned out, you would mostly be taking back home in the United States.

After a week or so in Redgrave Hospital, you were deemed fit enough for transport back to the Zone of Interior for convalescence and recovery in a domestic hospital. Though the sympathetic nurses had not seen fit to permit Bucky onto the ward again, they had taken a shakily written note, the loss of strength you had suffered in just over a week was startling, and promised to deliver it to him. The trip via Prestwick to Greenland, then Newfoundland, and ultimately Grenier Field in New Hampshire felt luxurious on the much more spacious C-54. You were admitted to the Station Hospital there to continue your recovery and rehabilitation, enjoying phone calls with your family instead of delayed correspondence for a change.

It took two months for you to be fully back on your feet, back to yourself. The same amount of time, it seemed, for the 100th bomb group to be repatriated stateside. Freshly discharged and clad in a brand-new olive drab dress uniform, proudly bearing your silver 1st Lieutenant’s insignia following your promotion and the ribbons from your two purple hearts, you had sweet-talked your way back onto the base. One of the more sympathetic MPs who had heard your story – admittedly there were few in New Hampshire who had not heard your story at this point – had not even protested your request. It seemed that fate saw fit to land Major John Egan in your life a second time, with Grenier Field the destination for his bomb group on their return flight.

Standing in the warm summer breeze, watching the sky for the silhouettes of their planes, it honestly felt odd to be wearing a skirt. The complexity of affixing your stockings to the straps of your garter belt had briefly made you long for the convenience of slacks, but with your properly cut and styled hair and feminine clothing you felt like an entirely new woman as you stood outside on the grass with the ground crew. Would Bucky even recognize you?

At last the distant droning of aircraft engines reached your, and everyone around you’s, ears, the shapes of B-17s multiplying on the horizon before they began to circle in for a landing. Honestly, there were so many of them you briefly doubted you would be able to find him with any manner of efficiency. Clamping a hand over your officer’s cap to hold it in place as a plane taxied onto a nearby hardstand, your eyes began to scan the crowd of men as they filtered past, surely headed for the mess hall or officer’s club. Catch a glimpse of those unmistakable ears, you stepped forward and called out to him.

“John Clarence Egan!”

His head whipped around so fast he nearly took out the man walking beside him.

“Do I really look so different in a skirt that you would walk right by me?” You teased fondly.

“Angelfish!”

His flight bag hit the asphalt with a sickening ‘crunch’ that had you worried for its contents, but the impact of his body against yours drove that thought quickly from your mind. Wrenching his cap from his head he tilted his face to nestle beneath the brim of yours and kiss you soundly. Distantly, you were aware of all manner of cheers and wolf-whistles from his comrades, but you were too busy clutching at his shoulders to truly mind.

“How did you-? What are you-? God, it’s good to see you.” He rambled before pressing his mouth against yours firmly, not even giving you the opportunity to reply.

Laughing brightly into the kiss, you became vaguely aware of the sound of footsteps approaching much nearer and pulled back slowly, smiling fondly as Bucky’s lips made as if to chase yours, but his friend’s question interrupted him.

“You gonna introduce us, John?” A tall blond man with striking blue eyes and a pair of unsettlingly symmetrical facial scars asked sardonically.

Bucky cleared his throat and stepped back, though you noted his arm slid around your waist in a rather proprietary move. You found you did not mind in the least, particularly as your fully healed wound gave no protest of pain whatsoever.

“Angelfish, this Gale Cleven – call him Buck, Robert Rosenthal – Rosie, and Harry Crosby – Croz.” He followed up by introducing you by your full name.

“He give you that nickname, too?” The one he told you to call ‘Buck’ raised an eyebrow and you laughed.

“It’s a long story….”

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

The Only Truth I Know Is You Masterlist

Tag list: @gretagerwigsmuse, @luminouslywriting, @softspeirs, @sunny747, @storysimp, @slowsweetlove, @httpsmoon, @buckysegan, @justheretoreadthxxs, @precious-little-scoundrel, @jointherebellion215, @timetowastetime8, @mads-weasley

#john egan x reader #bucky egan x reader #major john egan x reader #john egan x you #john egan fic #john egan imagine #john egan #mota fanfic #masters of the air fanfiction

177 notes · View notes

sagesolsticewrites · 10 months ago

Note

No ones written for Curtis yet !! (Masters of the air) if you wanted and didn’t have any ideas, what about they meet at a pub - he’s loud she’s quiet but he charms his way in ? Something sweet to take away episode threes pain

Thank you so much for requesting, I’ve been having so much fun with these Masters of the Air requests! Our boy Curt deserves some love, too! 🥺 And… what Episode Three? I have no memory of Episode Three, all that happened in Ep 3 was our boys had a big mission and then they all 👀👀👀 made it home safe 😇

(Reminder that requests are open! Feel free to check out some of my favorite prompt lists in my pinned post 😊)

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction based off the portrayal by the actors in the Apple TV+ series. I hold nothing but respect for the real life individuals referenced within.

To the Rescue

You thank the bartender with a smile before turning towards your usual spot along the wall, martini safely clutched in your hands. The pub was positively crawling with soldiers— which was exactly the reason your friends had dragged you out of the apartment tonight.

“You need to get out more!” They insisted as they wrestled your hair into something slightly more stylish, Dot digging through her wardrobe for something suitable for you to wear.

“There’ll be plenty of very handsome soldiers there,” she had said, producing the soft blue dress you had subsequently been forced into, “It’ll be good for you to meet someone!”

You settle against the wall, resisting the urge to yank out the pins digging into your scalp, instead taking a sip of your martini as you scan the crowd.

Your friends had seemingly already chosen their targets for tonight— you spot Ruthie chatting to a blonde Brit over by the bar, and Dot had already managed to drag some poor soldier onto the dance floor with her and her two left feet.

Despite what your friends thought, you were perfectly happy being a wallflower. You enjoyed people watching— just as entertaining as normal conversation without the stress of having to contribute, you had once joked.

The theory was proven as you scanned over the crowd, picking up snippets of conversation, stories, jokes… usually coming from a particularly boisterous soldier speaking loud enough to be heard throughout the whole bar with a distinctive accent— New York or somewhere thereabouts, you guessed.

“Hey there, honey.”

Every part of you cringes inwardly at the voice interrupting your thoughts. British, you note immediately, with that hint of bravado that signaled he didn’t much care for your parts of the conversation— he was just looking to show off for his friends.

You couldn’t very well ignore him, though, and you try to hide your exasperation as best you can.

“Can I help you?”

“Well, I couldn’t help but notice that you seemed a bit lonely over here, figured you could use some company. Maybe a drink, maybe a dance…” the Brit grins, and you take notice of the pins decorating both his and his friends’ jackets— RAF boys. Ugh.

“I’m perfectly fine, thank you,” you assure them with the politest smile you can muster.

“Aw, come on,” one of his buddies speaks up, “Just one dance?”

At the clear refusal of that request, the other man that was with them chimes in.

“Or how about I buy you a drink? Seems like you could use a fresh one,” he says, nodding towards the martini glass in your hand— the one that was still nearly full.

“Thank you, but I’m alright, really…”

You attempt to edge away from them, mind racing for a way to politely let them down so they’d leave you alone.

Just then, a thick New York drawl breaks through the unsuccessful attempts at flirting, a welcome relief from the unfamiliar English accents.

“There you are, sweetheart,” the soldier says loudly, leading you away from the RAF boys, “Been lookin’ for you everywhere!”

One arm slung over your shoulder, he leans down to whisper in your ear “Trust me, okay?”

Speaking loudly enough to be heard by the other soldiers, he began leading you to a secluded booth in the corner, “I got us a table over here…”

As you slide into the booth, he turns to the RAF boys with a fierce warning glare and a subtle cracking of his knuckles, unseen by you.

The Brits scramble to find other targets, and the soldier — you still haven’t gotten his name — returns his attention to you.

“I’m sorry, I hope I didn’t overstep,” he says, “You just, uh… seemed like you weren’t havin’ too good of a time over there.”

“No, it’s fine,” you assure him softly, shaking your head, “Thank you, um…”

He seems to realize what you’re waiting for, and sweeps into a bow as he introduces himself.

“Lieutenant Curtis Biddick, at your service,” he says, a cheeky grin lighting up his face. “But everyone calls me Curt,” he adds, straightening up.

There’s a moment of awkward silence as you smile and nod in acknowledgement, and then realize that you have absolutely no idea what to say now.

“…Well,” the soldier— Curt— says, once it becomes clear you’re not going to say anything, “I’ll leave you be, but if those guys bother you again just gimme a holler, yeah? I’ll sort ‘em out.”

“Wait!” You say as he turns to go, the loudest you’ve spoken all evening.

You pray the flush in your cheeks isn’t too visible in the dim light of the pub as he turns back and you say hesitantly, “You can… stay, if you like.”

You gesture to the empty space of the booth, but add hurriedly, “Or if you don’t want to— I’m sure you’d rather—”

“I’d like that very much,” he says with a smile, cutting off your nervous rambling.

He slides into the booth across from you rather than next to you, to your surprise, giving you enough space to feel comfortable.

“So, are you ever gonna tell me your name, or am I just gonna keep calling you sweetheart all night?” He asks, adding a wink to make sure you know he’s teasing.

You tell him, just barely loud enough to be heard over the band, and he grins, testing out the pronunciation. “Pretty name for a pretty girl.”

Like with most compliments, you’re not sure how to respond until—

“I don’t normally look like this,” you find yourself saying and oh of all the times you had to actually start talking, why did it have to be now? “I mean— my friends decided to doll me up for tonight, but I’m not normally—” You trail off as your mouth finally takes the hint to stop talking now and silently pray for the ground to swallow you.

“Hey, I should ask them for some tips,” is all Curt says, though, and you find yourself fighting off a smile as he rambles on about “wanting to find something for myself, it feels like everyone’s doin’ the same thing these days…”

The way he sighs forlornly, staring out at the sea of uniforms identical to his, is what breaks you, and the two of you collapse into peals of laughter.

You hear your name being called, and turn to see Ruthie — apparently having abandoned the blonde Brit— flagging you down, until she realizes you have company.

“Oh— sorry!” She says, before gesturing to where your other friend seems to have gotten a bit too deep in her cups, “I’m gonna take Dot home. You take your time, though!” She adds, nodding towards Curt encouragingly in her usual unsubtle manner.

You wave her off and tell her to be safe, blushing furiously at the expression on Curt’s face— he looks entirely too amused by Ruthie’s reaction.

“She gonna be okay?” He asks first, though, nodding towards where Ruthie’s leading Dot out the door.

As you assure him your friends will be perfectly fine, he nods, seeming to consider you for a moment.

“You don’t get out much, do you?”

You nearly choke mid-sip of your martini, surprised at his bluntness.

“What gave it away?” You manage to quip once you’ve recovered, waving off his concern.

“Your friend there,” he nods to the door, “I’ve seen my fair share of girls excited that their friend snagged a soldier, but… never that excited.” He concludes with a laugh.

“I guess I’ve always found all this,” you gesture to the room around you: the dancing, the laughter and occasional shouts from the soldiers, the music, “a bit much? I’ve never really been one for parties or bars or… any kind of socializing, really. Ruthie and Dot were plenty eager to get me out of the apartment for once, though.”

“Well I, for one,” Curt says with a crooked grin, “am very glad they did.”

You meet his gaze for a moment before smiling down at your lap, “So am I.”

The two of you continue talking through the night— Curt dominates the conversation, but in a way that you don’t mind; he fills what would normally be an awkward silence for you with jokes and stories, all the while leaving enough space for you to chime in when you feel like it.

The pub empties as the night goes on, and before too long it’s only the two of you and a handful of other people remaining.

You glance at your watch, wincing as you realize how late it’s gotten.

Curt takes note, already moving to stand as if he had meant to be heading back at this hour and asking with a smile:

“Can I walk you home?”

The easy conversation continues on the short walk to your building, and you find yourself on the front walk with Curt, dreading the moment he walks away.

“Wait— I—” you interrupt as he opens his mouth to bid you goodnight, digging in your small clutch for any scrap of paper you can find.

Producing a torn piece of what apparently used to be a grocery list and a small pen, you scribble down your address, holding it out to him.

“Write to me?”

A bright grin transforms his face as he tucks it away in his breast pocket, next to his heart, “I’d love to.”

The two of you simply… stand there in the moonlight, grinning at each other.

Your gaze scans over him, taking in the hat sitting at a jaunty angle on his head, his slightly crooked tie, the equally crooked grin of this boy who took you under his wing for the night.

Summoning all your courage, you rock up onto your toes to press a quick kiss on his cheek.

As your turn to sprint into your building, though, something stops you.

Or more specifically, someone.

Curt reaches out and grabs your hand, pulling you back towards him. You’re the closest you’ve been to him all night, barely a breath in between the two of you.

He scans your face, gaze dipping down to your lips then back up, searching for permission.

At your almost imperceptible nod, he dips down and captures your lips in a surprisingly gentle kiss.

Warmth blooms in your chest, spreading through you down to your toes in the brief eternity his lips are on yours.

He pulls away, remaining close enough that your noses brush as his thumb caresses your cheek.

“Sweetheart, when I get back to base,” he begins softly, “I am writing you the cheesiest, corniest love letter you’ve ever seen.”

His laughter is infectious, and you hope your giggles hide the flush on your face at the mention of love.

“I look forward to it,” you simply say, barely able to speak around the grin on your face.

With one last gentle kiss planted on your cheek, he bids you goodnight, and you float into your apartment, waiting impatiently for a love letter from Curtis Biddick.

#hope you liked it!!!#sage answers #masters of the air x reader #barry keoghan masters of the air #curt biddick x reader #curtis biddick x reader #barry keoghan curtis biddick #curtis biddick #curt biddick #masters of the air #barry keoghan x reader

176 notes · View notes

skarsjoy · 7 months ago

Text

GQ and British GQ (5.30.24):

The best and most anticipated TV shows of 2024

Murderbot, date TBD

Alexander Skarsgård has always managed to embody characters that have a rogue, sometimes sinister oddness to them, as if you don't quite know what they're thinking (Lukas in Succession, James in Infinity Pool, Eric in True Blood). To that end, his upcoming role as a self-hacking android who simply loves to spend his days watching trash TV feels tailor-made for the actor. The show in question is Murderbot, based on the book series The Murderbot Diaries by best-selling author Martha Wells. Another Apple TV+ big-budget sci-fi punt no less, so you know it's going to be good.

#alexander skarsgard #alexander skarsgård #Murderbot #Succession #True Blood #quotes about Alex

65 notes · View notes

insanityclause · 9 months ago

Text

The Night Manager will be returning for two more seasons with Tom Hiddleston at the helm once again, it has been reported.

The renewal of the hit adaptation of John le Carré’s 1993 novel, which aired to great fanfare eight years ago, has been greenlit by Amazon Prime and the BBC, according to Deadline.

It is understood that the new seasons about the hotel-manager-turned-spy will be filmed later this year in London and South America.

According to reports, David Farr – who wrote the original series – has been brought back to write season two.

The first series, which won two Emmys and three Golden Globes, featured an impressive cast including Olivia Colman, Elizabeth Debicki, Tom Hollander and David Harewood.

It followed Hiddleston as Jonathan Pine, the former British soldier who is recruited by the manager of a Foreign Office taskforce to infiltrate an arms dealer’s inner circle while he is the night manager of a luxury Cairo hotel.

The series quickly became one of the top-rated UK dramas of 2016 and spawned a number of subsequent le Carré adaptations from The Ink Factory, the production company run by le Carré’s sons Simon and Stephen Cornwell.

The new adaptation will be set in the present day, according to Deadline, and will follow Hiddleston’s Pine facing a new and more deadly challenge after being informed that arms dealer Richard Roper – played by Hugh Laurie – is dead.

Laurie, Colman and Hiddleston all won Golden Globes for their performances in the 2016 spy thriller, which became an international success and even led to rumours at the time that Hiddleston, 43, could be the next James Bond.

While the Bond rumours may have been put to bed, it remains to be seen where the plot may take Pine, seeing as Le Carré‘s novel has no sequel.

When Laurie was asked in 2016 whether the series would return, he said: “It’s based on a novel, we’ve got to the end of the novel and John le Carré has yet to write another novel. So in cold practical terms, no, we’re done.”

Le Carré, who died in 2020, took a very hands-off approach to the first series, but was said to be pleasantly surprised by the alterations Farr made to his novel for the script.

Charlotte Moore, the BBC TV chief, told The Telegraph in 2017 that “Le Carré is very involved” in discussions about the next series, saying: “We wouldn’t be talking with them if he didn’t think it was a good idea.”

Announcing the new series, Ms Moore said: “After years of fervent speculation I’m incredibly excited to confirm that The Night Manager is returning to the BBC for two more series.”

“Of course he wants to take part in it, it’s his work. He will definitely be involved in what we do next,” she added.

The Telegraph has contacted Le Carré’s estate for comment on the announcement of the new seasons.

Previously, Susanne Bier, who won an Emmy for directing the first series, revealed that scripts for a second instalment were “slowly being developed”, but she said writers were wary about being able to create the same hit again.

Elizabeth Debicki, Tom Hiddleston, Susanne Bier and Hugh Laurie at the premiere of the first season

Elizabeth Debicki, Tom Hiddleston, Susanne Bier and Hugh Laurie at the premiere of the first season Credit: Michael Tran/FilmMagic

Farr agreed with this sentiment at the time, telling Variety in 2016 that he was “not keen” to do a second series, adding: “I liked the fact that the story ended where the story ended.

“But that’s entirely personal. Given the characters, there is a potential for something more to happen, and I’m sure someone could find the right idea. But for me it’s done. My simple feeling is that I wouldn’t be able to make the next one as good.”

Hiddleston, 43, will be returning to executive produce the new seasons as well as play Pine.

The British actor said: “The first series of The Night Manager was one of the most creatively fulfilling projects I have ever worked on. The depth, range and complexity of Jonathan Pine was, and remains, a thrilling prospect.”

Simon and Stephen Cornwell said season one proved “a landmark moment for the golden era of television – uniting on-screen and behind-the-camera talent at the top of their game – and an audience reception which was beyond our wildest imagining”.

“Revisiting the story of Pine also means going beyond the events of John le Carré’s original work: that is a decision we have not taken lightly, but his compelling characters and the vision David [Farr] has for their next chapter were irresistible,” they added.

Vernon Sanders, the Amazon MGM Studios head of television, added: “We are elated to bring additional seasons of The Night Manager to our Prime Video customers.

“The combination of terrific source material, the wonderful team at The Ink Factory, a great writer in David Farr, an award-winning director in Georgi Banks-Davies, as well as the talented cast truly make the series the full package.”

#tom hiddleston #the night manager

84 notes · View notes

themultifandomgal · 2 months ago

Text

From 2010- YN’s Wiki So Far

YN YLN in 2015

YN YLN, Born 13th April 1994, is a British singer and songwriter. She is known for being part of the British pop group One Direction. In 2010, YLN auditioned as a solo artist for the British television series The X Factor. She was eliminated as a solo artist before going to judges house, however joined the then boyband One Direction.

YN attended Shrewsbury Secondary school, taking part in the schools drama department and choir. In addition to singing, YLN has also appeared in television and film, including the Nickelodeon series iCarly and the autobiographical concert film One Direction: This Is Us.

YLN along with bandmates Niall Horan, Zayn Malik, Liam Payne, Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson, has released five commercially successful albums, performed on a worldwide tour, and won several awards, including two BRIT Awards and four MTV Video Music Awards.

Early life

YLN was born in Shrewsbury Shropshire to parents Thomas and Lisa YLN. She enjoyed singing from a young age, putting on shows for her parents.

At the age of 14 her mother was diagnosed with stage 4 cervical cancer and unfortunately lost her battle in 2009, a year before YN’s appearance on the X Factor.

Music career

YLN finished in 3rd place alongside her bandmates on the TV show the X Factor. Not long after the show it was announced that the band had been signed by Simon Cowell and his record label Syco records. They began working on their first album in 2011. One Direction released their first studio album, Up All Night, in 2011, followed by their second, Take Me Home, in 2012. One Direction: This Is Us, a documentary about the band directed by Morgan Spurlock, was released in August 2013. The film grossed more than $30 million worldwide its first weekend in theaters. The band's third studio album, Midnight Memories, was released on 25 November 2013. The band release their fourth studio album Four in 2014. Their final album, Made in the AM was released on 13th November 2015.

YN has announced she will be releasing her first solo album very soon.

Personal life

YLN was in a relationship while on the X Factor, but they soon split up. YLN then started dating Alex. Unfortunately her whirlwind relationship came to a halt after Alex passed away in 2012.

YLN had an on and off relationship with actor Liam Hemsworth from 2013 until 2014. She had been single since, however many speculate that YLN and bandmate Harry Styles have had a secret relationship during their time in One Direction, but nothing had been confirmed.

YN has a dog named Cookie who lives with YLN’s dad or best friend Emma when YN was on tour.

#6th one direction member #one direction x reader #sixth one direction member #one direction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles x oc #harry styles fanfic rec #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles

44 notes · View notes

pers-books · 7 months ago

Text

Obituary

William Russell obituary

Stage and screen actor who was part of the original cast of Doctor Who

Michael Coveney Tue 4 Jun 2024 17.40 BST

William Russell, left, as Ian Chesterton, with William Hartnell as the Doctor, Jacqueline Hill as Barbara and Carole Ann Ford as Susan in the Doctor Who serial The Keys of Marinus, 1964. Photograph: BBC

On 23 November 1963 – the day after the assassination of President John F Kennedy – the actor William Russell, who has died aged 99, appearing in a new BBC television series, approached what looked like an old-fashioned police box in a scrapyard, from which an old chap emerged, saying he was the doctor. Russell responded: “Doctor Who?”

And so was launched one of the most popular TV series of all time, although the viewing figures that night were low because of the political upheaval, so the same episode was shown again a week later. It caught on, big time, with Russell – as the science schoolteacher Ian Chesterton – and William Hartnell as the Doctor establishing themselves alongside Jacqueline Hill as the history teacher Barbara Wright and Carole Ann Ford as Susan Foreman.

Russell stayed until 1965, returning to the show in 2022 in a cameo appearance as Ian and, since then, participating happily in all the hoop-la and fanzine convention-hopping, signing and schmoozing that such a phenomenon engenders.

Before that, though, Russell had achieved prominence in the title role of the ITV series The Adventures of Sir Lancelot (1956-57) – he was strongly built with an air of dashing bravado about him; he had been an RAF officer in the later stages of the second world war – and as the lead in a 1957 BBC television adaptation of Nicholas Nickleby, transmitted live in 18 weekly episodes.

William Russell on the set of the 1950s television series The Adventures of Sir Lancelot. Photograph: Mirrorpix/Getty Images

When Sir Lancelot went to the US, the first British TV import to be shot in colour for an American audience, Russell rode down Fifth Avenue on a horse in full regalia, like some returning, mystical, medieval knight in the heart of Normandy. The show was a smash hit.

By now he was established in movies, playing a servant to John Mills in The Gift Horse (1952) and a clutch of second world war action movies including They Who Dare (1954) opposite Dirk Bogarde, directed by Lewis “All Quiet on the Western Front” Milestone – he met his first wife, the French model and actor Balbina Gutierrez on a boat sailing to Cyprus to a location shoot in Malta – and Ronald Neame’s The Man Who Never Was (1956), the first Operation Mincemeat movie, in which he played Gloria Grahame’s fiance.

Until this point in his career, he was known as Russell Enoch. But Norman Wisdom, with whom he played in the knockabout comedy farce One Good Turn (1955) objected to his surname because he felt (oddly) that it would publicise a vaudevillian rival of his called Enoch. So, somewhat meekly, and to keep Wisdom happy, he became William Russell, although, in the 1980s, for happy and productive periods with the Actors Touring Company and the RSC, he reverted to the name Russell Enoch. Later, he settled again on William Russell. All very confusing for the historians. His doorbell across the road from me in north London bore the legend “Enoch”.

He was born in Sunderland, the only child of Alfred Enoch, a salesman and small business entrepreneur, and his wife, Eva (nee Pile). They moved to Solihull, and then Wolverhampton, where William attended the grammar school before moving on to Fettes college in Edinburgh and Trinity College, Oxford, where his economics tutor was the brilliant Labour parliamentarian Anthony Crosland.

But Russell didn’t “get” the economics part of the PPE (philosophy, politics and economics) course and switched, much to Crosland’s relief, to English. In those years, 1943-46, he worked out his national service and appeared in revues and plays with such talented contemporaries as Kenneth Tynan, Tony Richardson and Sandy Wilson.

Derek Ware, a fight co-ordinator, runs through a scene with Russell during a break in filming the Doctor Who story The Crusades at the BBC studios, Ealing, in 1965. Photograph: Mirrorpix/Getty Images

On graduating, he played in weekly rep in Tunbridge Wells, fortnightly rep at the Oxford Playhouse and featured, modestly, in the Alec Guinness Hamlet of 1951 at the New (now the Noël Coward) theatre. He had big roles in seasons at the Bristol Old Vic and the Oxford Playhouse in the early 60s, while on television he was in JB Priestley’s An Inspector Calls with John Gregson, and was St John Rivers in Jane Eyre.

He played Shylock and Ford (in the Merry Wives of Windsor) in 1968-69 at the Open Air, Regent’s Park, before joining the RSC in 1970 as the Provost in Measure for Measure (with Ian Richardson and Ben Kingsley), Lord Rivers in Norman Rodway’s Richard III and Salisbury in a touring King John, with the title role played by Patrick Stewart.

His billing slipped in movies, but he played small parts in good films such as Superman (1978), starring Christopher Reeve, as one of the Elders; as a passerby drawn into the violence in the Spanish-American slasher film Deadly Manor (1990); and in Bertrand Tavernier’s Death Watch (1980), a sci-fi futuristic fable about celebrity, reality TV and corruption, starring Romy Schneider and Harvey Keitel.

With John Retallack’s Actors Touring Company in the 80s, he was a lurching, apoplectic Sir John Brute in John Vanbrugh’s The Provok’d Wife, possessing, said Jonathan Keates in the Guardian, “a weirdly philosophical elegance”; a civilised Alonso, expertly discharging some of the best speeches in The Tempest; and a quick-change virtuosic king, peasant, soldier and tsar in Alfred Jarry’s 1896 surrealist satire Ubu Roi in the Cyril Connolly translation.

Back at the RSC in 1989, he was the courtly official Egeus in white spats (Helena wore Doc Martens) in an outstanding production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream by John Caird, and both the Ghost and First Player in Mark Rylance’s pyjama-clad Hamlet directed by Ron Daniels. In 1994 he took over (from Peter Cellier) as Pinchard in Peter Hall’s delightful production of Feydeau’s Le Dindon, retitled in translation An Absolute Turkey, which it wasn’t.

He rejoined Rylance in that actor/director’s opening season in 1997 at the new Shakespeare’s Globe. He was King Charles VI of France in Henry V and Tutor to Tim in Thomas Middleton’s riotous Jacobean city comedy, A Chaste Maid in Cheapside. Many years later, in 2021, his son Alfred Enoch (Dean Thomas in the Harry Potter movies), would play on the same stage as a fired-up Romeo.

Russell is survived by his second wife, Etheline (nee Lewis), a doctor, whom he married in 1984, and their son, Alfred, and by his children, Vanessa, Laetitia and Robert, from his marriage to Balbina, which ended in divorce, and four grandchildren, James, Elise, Amy and Ayo.

William Russell Enoch, actor, born 19 November 1924; died 3 June 2024.

-- I'm a bit annoyed there's no mention of the fact that William continued to play Ian Chesterton for Big Finish.

#RIP #William Russell #Obituary

98 notes · View notes

rtfics · 4 months ago

Text

The real "Soul Train."

Tim Burton is definitely channeling his teen years. (He's only 2 1/2 years older than me, so I recognize a lot of the stuff in Beetlejuice Beetlejuice).

Soul Train was a hugely popular TV series in the 70s. It introduced new songs, new performers, and new dance moves.

Beetlejuice Beetlejuice's Soul Train Conductor is an homage to the late, great host Don Cornelius (played by British actor/comedian Stephen K. Amos).

For those who never saw it, here's a sample. You can see in the movie they recreated Don Cornelius' classic hair and sunglasses.

youtube

And dancing to Earth, Wind & Fire's "September."

youtube

#Beetlejuice #Beetlejuice Beetlejuice #Beetlejuice 2 #Soul Train #Don Cornelius #disco #Jungle Boogie #September #Tim Burton #Beetlejuice sequel #Beetlejuice 70s

31 notes · View notes

mariocki · 1 year ago

Text

William Russell popping up as the politician and friend and mentor to Benjamin Disraeli, Wyndham Lewis, in ATV's Emmy nominated mini-series Disraeli (1978)

#fave spotting #william russell #ian chesterton #doctor who #classic doctor who #disraeli #disraeli: portrait of a romantic #as it was titled in the US #1978 #classic tv #atv #i must admit i know very little about this particular era in british political history #and as such when William turned up as a mentor figure i thought oh goody he's got a big role #alas.. not to be. Lewis died suddenly‚ shortly after Disraeli succeeded in being elected as an MP #and his wife ended up having a much greater influence over the future prime minister (spoiler: they married)#so yes‚ Bill has a few brief scenes in ep 1 and then keels over offscreen in the first act of ep 2. ho hum #such is the lot of the character actor #still he's good fun whilst he's here and provides some gently subtle advice to Disraeli about curtailing his verbose speeches in the house #lest he baffle his own party as well as the opposition with his intellect #it's a good series and very well written‚ altho does simplify some relationships and events in a... questionable way #mainly it depicts Bulwer Lytton (he of 'it was a dark and stormy night' fame) very sympathetically and his wife as unbalanced and vengeful #whereas the truth is much bleaker (he had his wife‚ the writer Rosina B L‚ institutionalised when her complaints about his treatment of her #became inconvenient...)#likewise Disraeli's passionate stand against the Corn Laws repeal is presented as a david vs goliath moment within the houses of parliament #without ever really interrogating the motives of those opposed to the repeal‚ nor the impact of its failure

25 notes · View notes

lichanicksstuff · 6 months ago

Text

I just thought it would be hilarious if comic! Sandman characters would exist in the world where the show also exist. Imagine Hob inviting Dream for a movie marathon.

(There will be some comic spoilers, you've been warned).

In this universe, Dream met Neil Gaiman and inspired him to create a series like this, so nobody will ever know the truth about the Endless. It's pretty clever even for a Matthew's idea.

The thing is: Dream (Daniel; treat him like a second incarnation. Like with the Doctor, since Daniel has all of Dream's memories, powers, etc. But he is softer than Morpheus. It's simmilar to Doctor's incarnations - same person, a bit different personality) did not expect was his human friend to ask him to watch 6th episode together because it's an episode with both of them! Hob knows about the idea of "the sandman", since Dream visits him in his dreams once in a few months. When they first met in person it was very hard for Hob to explain to his girlfriend how his friend who was dead is now alive and well. That's how Daniel became a lost twin brother of "that friend" who Hob somehow knows because yes it makes perfect sense, and no, Hob isn't making this up (his girlfriend does NOT believe him, but she goes with it. She even gave Daniel a cup of tea, made in a kettle. Hob is so sensitive about it as a British guy). But today, his beautiful girlfriend was out with her friends so they could watch without her asking why is the character named just like him.

"It will be fun!" Hob said, sitting down on his couch and handing Dream over some popcorn. Dream knows, more or less, what he should be expecting because it was him who gave the ideas and was present (in the minds of the writers) during production. In the end, Dream agreed and they both started watching.

Hob was very suprised when he saw the actor who plays Morpheus. In some ways he does look very simmilar to the original incarnation but there's something more... human, about him. (Well, maybe because he's a human.) Dream's real face has some weird glow to it that makes him very memorable when he wants to be remembered but also easy to forget if he doesn't. And also his eyes are not normal. Two deep lakes reflecting a night sky. No pupils. Charming but also horrifying, if you ask Hob. Privately. In a dark room. When he's so wasted he would be dead if he could die.

But when he saw the guy who is him on the screen, he gasped.

"He's not ginger!" He yelled and Dream almost choked on his wine, "I'm telling you, mate, they have something to gingers in hollywood. Every bloody character who has red hair somewhere, doesn't have them in the show."

"Hob, you're a person, not a character." Dream corrected him like his friend wasn't just starting a monologue on the topic of red-haired people in movies and TV shows.

"He is pretty good-looking, though," Hob admitted after a longer minute of talking.

"Certainly looks better than you," Dream said and drunk his wine. Hob laughed and this ended the conversation for a moment.

They had been watching for like ten minutes, commenting the clothing, suited to a particular time when suddnely, at the 1789 scene Hob asked:

"Why are they eye-fucking each other the whole time?"

Dream looked at him with a sign of pure disbelief in his non-pupil eyes. Hob just shrugged asking a very impolite "what?" Which Dream decided to ignore.

But then at the 1889 scene, a situation that Hob still remembers and how scared he was he will be mortal from now on, Hob started yelling at the screen:

"Come on Hobbie, get your man!"

"Hob, this is supposed to be you."

"Well, I'm sorry I got invested." he said fussily.

In the end, Hob was very happy with the results of this episode, even if it wasn't really accurate. Dream, on the other hand, drank much more wine than he was planning to.

(And Matthew was laughing in crow the whole time.)

#hob shipping show!dreamling and daniel trying to deal with it sounded so funny in my head #english isn't my first language #so i'm so sorry if there are grammar errors or sth like that #i wrote it in one go #the sandman netflix #the sandman #the sandman comics #dream of the endless #hob gadling #hob x dream #kind of #fanfic #the sandman fanfiction #?#comic! dreamling #dreamling fanfic #dreamling #daniel hall

39 notes · View notes

invisibleicewands · 3 months ago

Text

https://parade.com/tv/michael-sheen-a-very-royal-scandal-prince-andrew-interview

Michael Sheen Calls Royal Family ‘Running Soap Opera’: ‘We’re Kind of Fascinated and Obsessed By It All' (Exclusive)

When it comes to the British royal family, Michael Sheen has "complicated thoughts."

"I suppose a mixture of things," the Welsh actor explains to Parade. "There was so much respect and admiration for the [late] Queen [Elizabeth] that she had devoted her life to the service of this country and did an amazing job. The royal family is an institution. When you think about the tourism it attracts and the position it plays."

To Sheen, having a "sort of figurehead" in the UK who isn't a politician also "makes a big difference." He says, "It sort of allows for a separation between certain things that maybe allows us to have a different kind of attitude towards our politicians here because a King or a Queen exists."

"So in the kind of ecosystem of our culture here, the royal family clearly plays a very important part, regardless of how you feel about issues of privilege and wealth and all that kind of stuff," Sheen adds.

The Frost/Nixon star stepped into the shoes of British royal family member Prince Andrew in Prime Video's new drama A Very Royal Scandal. The three-part series, which premieres September 19, is based on the Duke of York's infamous 2019 Newsnight interview with Emily Maitlis.

"When it was shown on TV for the first time, I think, like everybody else who watched it, particularly in the UK, we were just gobsmacked," Sheen recalls. "It was hard to understand how what we just watched, how it could have happened. You know, how did that come to be? What were the circumstances that allowed what we just witnessed to happen? And, of course, our story is exactly that. It's about looking at what are those circumstances. How could a man of such power and privilege allow himself to be put into a situation voluntarily, where he is put under such scrutiny and made to be so accountable?"

From how he transformed into the Duke of York for the series to what he thinks of King Charles, continue reading for Parade's exclusive interview with A Very Royal Scandal's Michael Sheen.

I was blown away by your transformation into the Duke of York... What went into becoming Prince Andrew for this series? Playing a member of the royal family is a challenge because, on the one hand, there's a lot out there about them, obviously. But it's usually very controlled and stage-managed. When there's public interactions, [it's] in a very controlled and organized way. And then, of course, there's a lot of gossip about what happens behind the scenes and that kind of stuff. The royal family is our longest-running soap opera in this country, so we're kind of fascinated and obsessed by it all. But it's quite hard to sift through the facts from the fiction, and that's just generally speaking with the royal family. When it comes to Prince Andrew, it's a bit like a hall of mirrors, particularly around the episodes, the issues that we're dealing with in this. At the heart of this story and at the heart of the character, for me, was a mystery. I don't know what he did or didn't do beyond a certain point. We know up to a certain point. We know about his relationship with this person and that person. He went to this place and this kind of stuff. But then beyond that, we don't know.

And so, as an actor, I have to make choices. I need to know what my character did or didn't do in order to play the scenes. So I had to make choices. They were not necessarily reflective of what actually happened in real life. I don't know, but I had to make choices. I'm not going to say what those choices were because I don't want to affect how people watch it. That was a challenging aspect of it compared to other characters I've played based on real-life people. There wasn't that same element, kind of mystery and the unknowable there.

But I watched the interview itself, I mean, hundreds upon hundreds of times. And to begin with, of course, in order to get familiar with the interview, knowing that we're going to portray it. But as time went on, it started to kind of reveal things. The real minute details of it that you wouldn't necessarily notice watching it on TV for the first time, or even for the first few times. But when you've watched it hundreds of times and listened to it, you start to pick certain things up that were kind of hidden to you before, that became real clues to me to areas of him as a character that I could explore in the rest of the piece, not just in the interview. So that was really the heart of it, was that interview.

At what point when you first watched the interview were you like, "Oh, this is going south quickly?" I mean, I think the same as everybody else! When it was shown on TV for the first time, I think, like everybody else who watched it, particularly in the UK, we were just gobsmacked. It was hard to understand what we just watched, how it could have happened. How did that come to be? What were the circumstances that allowed what we just witnessed to happen? And, of course, our story is exactly that. It's about looking at what are those circumstances. How could a man of such power and privilege allow himself to be put into a situation voluntarily, where he is put under such scrutiny and made to be so accountable?

People just don't do that. People in those positions just throw money at something for it to go away and not deal with it, and never put themselves in that kind of vulnerable position. So, for me, the questions I had to ask were, what does it take for a man to think that's going to go well? And what does it take for a man to get to the end of it and think it did go well? And everybody else who [was] watching sees a car crash, sees an extraordinary thing. So that was very revealing in that he allowed himself to be in that position in the first place and felt that it had gone well afterward. That tells a whole story, or at least makes you start to ask questions about that person and their life and their circumstances that would allow for that.

Did playing Andrew affect or change your perception of him in any way? Oh, it definitely did. Yes. It did. It had not really struck me before in the same way about the fact that, clearly, a big high point in his life was the Falklands War. It had a huge impact on him. I assumed that a royal would be put in this kind of safe place in a war. But he was right in the thick of it. He was in the action. He put himself in real danger. And so then to see him come back from the Falklands War, when he was a young man in uniform, having performed acts of courage, adored by women in the UK, and sort of worshiped almost, the tabloid frenzy around him, about his relationships and all that kind of stuff.

And then to see what has happened since then. Through a natural process, [he's] aged. He sort of lost those looks. He's got further and further away from the center of interest of the royal family as the "spare" as he's known, the brother who's not going to be king. The brother who is going to be king has more children, so he gets moved down the line. And I found that really interesting. That had never really struck me before. That for someone, from the outside, who seems to have so much, to have everything you could want, to get an understanding that from his point of view, he seems to be denied so much. He seems to have lost so much. And to be on the outside of things so much, that definitely changed my perception.

Have you heard anything from Andrew's circle, or from people with close ties to the royal family about your portrayal of [the Duke of York]? Well, obviously, it hasn't gone out yet. I haven't heard [anything]. I very much doubt whether I will. It's a very closed world that I would be very surprised if I did hear anything. It's always a strange thing to play a character based on a real person. You inevitably feel a responsibility towards that person. Even though I'm trying to portray something that is very much warts and all and very rounded and has complexity and all of that, you still can't help but feel a responsibility in the fact that you're portraying a real person who's gonna have real feelings about it, and their family and all the rest of it. The job I've done on it, it's not going to please everyone. People will come at it with such preconceived ideas and opinions about a person. So, I don't know. But I just hope that people recognize it as a real human being.

You met the late Queen [Elizabeth] and received an OBE from her in 2009. When it was reported in 2020 that you had returned it, you spoke about getting to a time when there would be a sort of changing of the guard in the royal family. [This September marks] two years since the Queen's passing. I'm curious: What are your thoughts on the royal family today? Well, I think, as we do as a nation here, have sort of complicated thoughts about it, really. I suppose a mixture of things. There was so much respect and admiration for the Queen, that she had devoted her life to the service of this country and did an amazing job. The royal family is an institution. When you think about the tourism it attracts and the position it plays. I think the fact that we have a sort of figurehead in our country that isn't a politician makes a big difference. It sort of allows for a separation between certain things that maybe allows us to have a different kind of attitude towards our politicians here, because a King or a Queen exists.

So in the kind of ecosystem of our culture here, the royal family clearly plays a very important part, regardless of how you feel about issues of privilege and wealth and all that kind of stuff. I think it was always going to be a challenge for someone to take over the mantle of the late Queen. But [King] Charles seems to be doing a very good job of that, and seems to be providing consistency in challenging times. He was always a man who, in the past, was quite free with his opinions. And I think people were worried about how that would work and whether that would have to change. But it seems like he's doing a very good job of that at the moment.

Is there one member you haven't met who you'd be keen to meet in the future? I would love to meet Princess Anne. She seems like such an amazing person, and funny and smart. She seems to handle that position very, very well. She seems to be one of the most charismatic of all the royals to me. So I would love to meet her.

#Michael Sheen #A Very Royal Scandal #Interview

26 notes · View notes

turneradora · 3 months ago

Text

🤣🤣🤣👍

Kath and I tried not to squeal with excitement when Aidan Turner sat right in front of us (WHAT a handsome man). But sadly he was moved to the front, ready for the Q&A at the end. My friend Amanda was messaging me, telling me to sniff him so she could know what he smelled like. I was four drinks deep by then and might just have had a go, but thank god the poor man was moved before I could work out how to do this. And I probably avoided an arrest for public harassment into the bargain. So sorry, I can’t tell you what Aidan Turner smells like, but he looks very clean. And did I say how handsome he is? New pic of Aidan at the special UK screening of « Rivals », last September 17th. (Sam Harrington-Lowe Journalist)

NEW 💯💯💯

Aidan was sitting in the screening room.

I guess probably next to Victoria Smurfit, on his left

Thanks to my friend Isademrio who found the picture this morning

Thanks to the Journalist Sam Harrington- Lowe who published the article in the Silver Magazine yesterday and took this photo of Aidan, she was sitting right behind him

THE ARTICLE

FIRST LOOK: JILLY COOPER’S RIVALS IS A WILD RIDE

The star-studded launch of Jilly Cooper’s Rivals

I’ve wanted to use this photo of Jilly Cooper for yonks, so I’ve dug it out shamelessly for this piece. Just look at her! How gorgeous? I suspect that Jilly’s life has probably been, in parts, as exciting and racy as many of her novels. When I think of Jilly Cooper’s Rivals, or Riders, or any of them, I sort of picture her like this, writing them.

I grew up loving Cooper. As a child, I can remember my dad guffawing to her columns in the heady days of Harold Evans’ Sunday Times, over a full English and untipped Gitanes. I was too young to read her then, but devoured collections of her scribblings a few years later. And as I hit my teens, I fell head over heels in love with her romantic heroines. Prudence, Octavia, Emily, Bella, Imogen et al – I read them cover to cover, repeatedly. I loved Octavia best, because who doesn’t love a broken bad girl? And Octavia was very naughty indeed.

Tame stuff by today’s standards really, despite the wildness of the ‘70s. But my love for Jilly was set for life. The delicious Britishness of it all was a big part of the attraction. I devoured the wicked filth of Jackie Collins, but it was so American to me, settings I could barely relate to. Whereas Cooper wrote very much about life from my own frame of reference. Country living, London, dogs, ponies… ridiculous 11am drinks parties. As a child, one of my first ever jobs was as a pheasant plucker – I kid you not. So to find someone writing about sex, drama, and intrigue in English country villages…

Read more: Are you common? A class guide…

But I digress

When the big ‘bonkbusters’ (god, I hate that term) started coming out, I was in fits of ecstasy. From Riders onwards I was hooked, reading voraciously and pining until another one came out. I have no idea how one even starts to write novels like that, holding all that information about so many characters together. I can barely remember why I went into the kitchen. But reading the books, sinking into that heady world of treachery, and money, and sex, and absolutely appalling behaviour was a wild pleasure I can still feel today.

So when I saw that Rivals was to be made into a TV series – by Disney no less, a weird marriage, I thought – I was wary. There have been a few adaptations of Cooper’s work before, and they’ve largely been rather awful. Would this be any different? As luck would have it, I was invited to a premiere screening of the first two episodes, followed by a panel sesh with some of the actors – so I would get to find out sooner rather than later.

The invite had specified there would be ’80s-themed drinks and canapes, and on the way up to town, my plus-one Kath and I necked G&Ts and wondered what they might be. Vol au vents, for sure. Possibly smoked salmon. Prawns? It turned out to be a take, rather than a religious revisit, which is probably better. But there were vol au vents, you’ll be pleased to know (creamy chicken and mushroom). Also prawn cocktails, and teenie Black Forest gateaux, amongst other delights.

…you could have been forgiven for thinking it really was 1985. We circulated a bit, rubbing shoulders with celebs and quaffing bubbles and tequila sunrises…

We did however arrive to a glittering event with Duran Duran blaring, hot and cold running cocktails and champagne, and stars galore. For one moment you could have been forgiven for thinking it really was 1985. We circulated a bit, rubbing shoulders with celebs and quaffing bubbles and tequila sunrises, before taking seats in the sumptuous screening room.

Tell us about the show

I’m not allowed to write about the show itself yet properly. It’s embargoed until whatever date was on the piece of paper they made me sign. So I can’t actually review it properly. But I think I can tell you a few things without getting strung up.

The lineup was always going to make this enjoyable viewing, even it was shit, let’s face it. Some of my faves are in this – David Tennant, Katherine Parkinson, Danny Dyer, Aidan Turner, Emily Atack… and many more, as they say. It’s a great bunch, and dare I say it, very well cast. Tennant is sneering and chippy as Lord Tony Baddingham, Danny Dyer a perfect Freddie Jones. Bella Maclean is meltingly beautiful as Taggie, and Victoria Smurfit is a brilliant, fragile Maud O’Hara. And if you tell me that there’s a better actor to play hot-headed, principled Irish TV star Declan than Aidan Turner, well I don’t believe you.

The lineup was always going to make this enjoyable viewing, even it was shit, let’s face it

If you’ve been looking at the photos and thinking that Alex Hassell isn’t right for Rupert Campbell-Black, well, you’re not alone. Even Alex admits to being really worried about stepping into his shoes and not exactly looking like everyone expects him to. He’s not blond, for a start. But – and there are no real spoilers here Disney, if you’re reading this – after literally every part of Alex is revealed in the very first episode, as he points out, there’s nowhere really left to hide. So he just “got on with it.” And honestly, he makes a pretty good fist of it. He’s handsome, dastardly, and has a good bash at Rupert’s hidden depths, such as they are.

The challenge of taking on well-known characters

Many of the actors channelled older family members or situations. As readers of the book will know, Declan is fiercely protective of his family. Aidan said he was able to get into Declan mode by looking back at his own family. “He’s a dad, I’m a dad,” says Aidan. “I sort of related to him. And he’s like my dad, he’s Irish, there’s the hair…”

Nafessa Williams, who plays the gloriously feisty TV exec Cameron Cook, said she couldn’t wait to immerse herself in the ’80s, pointing out that she had family back then who looked exactly like she did in the show, big hair and all. She’d been able to use her own experience as the only American actor in the show, not really having insight into the wonders of the English countryside.

“It’s a lot like life imitating art, right?” she says. “Like, she [Cameron] came from New York to come here, I came from LA. So I understood her coming here and being new and not understanding this world.”

I’m not sure how many slow-burn relationships are allowed to happen in a world of Tinder and so on, so it was extremely enjoyable to play

Katherine Parker plays gentle Lizzie Vereker, and I suspect talking about the situation between her character and that of Danny Dyer’s is off limits, although obviously you can read what happens in the book. But she confesses to being thrilled to be working with him, and their chemistry is lovely.

“I was so pleased that Danny was playing that part. It’s so beautifully drawn throughout the series, their dynamic. And it unfolds over eight episodes, which is a kind of slow-burn relationship. Which feels very ‘80s. I’m not sure how many slow-burn relationships are allowed to happen in a world of Tinder and so on, so it was extremely enjoyable to play.”

And another great team

David Tennant is Lord Baddingham, massively hung up on class and wanting to fit in. He’s anchored by his wife, Lady Monica, played by the excellent Claire Rushbrook, who is very much old school posh, and who gives him the only real class clout he has. David says he loved playing Tony.

“It’s all there, it’s all there in the writing. And it’s very potent, it’s very British. But it’s very human too, you know? Like, [as Tony] I can never quite be where I want to be, to always be disappointed, because no matter how hard you try, there’s a club you’re not allowed to be in. And for someone like Tony, that’s devastating. He can only try harder. And he will never be satisfied because he’s always one peg down from the exclusive club, and it kills him.”

…he will never be satisfied because he’s always one peg down from the exclusive club, and it kills him…

Tony’s a grammar school boy, as opposed to, say, Rupert’s start in life at Harrow. And the chip on his shoulder is enormous. The most important thing to Tony?

“Winning!!” shouts Tennant, quite literally, channelling Tony alarmingly right there in the screening room. “Whatever that means, and whatever the situation… because he can never have the ultimate prize, he must have ALL the other prizes.” Tennant laughs. “He’s very balanced. There’s no daddy issues here, AT ALL!”

On scenes with Claire Rushbrook as his wife, Lady Baddingham. “I love those scenes, because it’s where all his armour falls away, and you get to see the little boy again. And he’s sort of got his mum there, that comfort. He’s very at home with her, and absolutely needs her. And he kind of runs this extraordinary lifestyle of treachery and debauchery, but he always has to have Monica.”

It’s not often I fangirl massively, but honestly. It’s DAME JILLY COOPER! After a lifetime of reading her books and words, I actually found it quite emotional to see her in the flesh. She was utterly divine, just so happy with the production and telling all the girls how beautiful they were and all the men how handsome. Plus ca change, Jilly! She’s a rather marvellous 87 now, and looking good on it. Plenty of the old Cooper sparkle, and clearly having a whale of a time at the do. I didn’t get to corner her, and probably would have been too shy really. But it was enough to have been there for this whole event.

As for the show – well, I could have sat there and binged the whole lot in one go. Which is, I suspect, what will happen when it finally airs. It’s one hundred per cent a ‘romp’ and not to be taken massively seriously. I absolutely loved it, and really hope they make the entire Rutshire Chronicles into telly shows, if they’re going to be like this.

Jilly Cooper’s Rivals launches on 18 October on Disney+ in the UK

Don’t say: “I’ll have a soya matcha latte with a gluten-free protein bar.”

Do say: “More champagne and keep it coming, and pass the Dunhills.

#aidanturnerinternational #aidan turner #séries #Rivals #declan o’hara

20 notes · View notes