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camilieroart · 8 months ago

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TMNT COLORCODED CHARACTER LINEUP COMPLETED !

After MONTHS of work, here is finally the lineup of all

61 CHARACTERS

That will be relevant at one point or another in Colorcoded season 1 :) More non-spoilery informations about them below !

Harry the Pickpocket gets beaten up pretty often. People like to hate what is ugly, and Harry wasn't the prettiest homeless guy around. Then again, most of the time he got beat up because he was caught stealing, but that's irrelevant. He had to do what he had to do to survive, and in New York, if you don't steal what you need, well people won't give it to you. More often than not, New Yorkers liked to step over him and a few sometimes walked on him, while still ignoring him. Harry was used to being hated, being beaten, being ugly and undeserving. What he was definitely NOT used to, was being saved by a group of reptilian people that, despite the fact that he stole from them, did not beat him up, talked to him nicely, and even built him a safe shelter. The Purple one even got him running water ! Now that he could drink and shower and look presentable, he might even be able to get a job, all thanks to these kids ! Harry didn't care that they were green and had a tough back. They were nice to him, and it was only fair Harry shared whatever scraps of infos he got to help them during missions. Especially when they brought some of these tasty pizzas…

Angel had always been called a bit naive, a bit stupid, a bit too good. She was always accommodating, always saying yes and her trust could easily be abused. But that wasn't true. Angel wasn't stupid. She knew what she was giving, and she knew that sometimes it was a bit too much. But she wanted to believe in the good of people, and in their good intentions, because it's always nice to be believed in ! So, what if she felt horribly ostracized by her only friends Casey and April, always out of the loop and pushed aside, ditched out of nowhere for them to run off with poor excuses ? They surely had a great reason ! Plus, she also kept secrets from them. You see, Angel had a part time job in the local Dimmart. She didn't really need it, it was just a good way to store away cash. And the fact that she didn't NEED it, made her able to freely walk out or shrug off if she gets fired. That definitely came in handy the night she caught a giant rat man and 4 turtles stealing from the store. So maybe she let them get away and purposefully covers for them everytime she can, but what else was she supposed to do ? She knows that people who steal, are usually people that don't have choice. Some nights, maybe the cameras have some strange malfunctions.

Steve Spiegel was a failed artist. At least that what his mom said. No matter how much work he put in his comics, nobody seemed to care. Maybe he just wasn't good at coming up with nice stories... But if there's one thing he's good at, it's listening to other people's stories, and giving advice. Now that's his thing ! Maybe he doesn't enjoy it as much as making his own stories, but at least, it pays the bills ! Plus there's that new client, Casey Jones, that had been telling him the craziest stories. Of course, Steve knew realistically, that this kid was either having a laugh at his expense, or in a serious situation that he struggled at expressing and tries to explain through silly stories instead. Either way, Steve listened like it was real, gave advice like it was true, and everytime the kid seemed happy and satisfied. And professional confidentiality be damned, these stories were too good to not be turned into a nice comic…

Vernon Fenwick was what you can call an asshole. After he failed to work in any of the TV channels the city had to offer, he made his own show called the Earth Protection News, courtesy of his roommate Ulysses S. Grant, that might have passed away soon after giving him the right to his show and all of it's audience. Vernon's show didn't work well at first. In this stupidly 'woke' world, having an openly racist, and misogynist and transphobic show seemed to have a certain impact on how it performed. It wasn't until the apparition of the monsters (that the arrogant and blind-sided left calls 'mutants' to hide their horrific nature) that Vernon truly started to shine. Each new footage or even pictures was dissected in his show and explained. People listened ! Finally the world knew he was right. These reptilians had grown tired of waiting, and decided to finally start to take over, but humans won't let them ! we'll fight back, starve them, torture them, kill them ! His show was bought by Channel 3, and millions hung to his every word ! And if Vernon hid some footage that proved these mutants weren't as dangerous as he thought, then who would know ? It was only a matter of time anyway. He could see it, when they mess up and the entire world is at stake because of them, oh he would be right. He would have won. And when it happens, Vernon would be there.

Akira is the Shredder’s right hand. When Shredder rose to power, he went against her, and was thrown into a prison pit to rot. But Shredder knew the man had talent and skill, and she didn’t want it to go to waste. She broke his mind, and took his eyes, and Akira is now completely obedient to his master.

Tanner G. Rollins is the failure of the family. His family moved to New York to make it, 2 generations ago, and were very successful. Tanner chose not to take over the family business and become a doctor. They were kicked out and banished because of it. He struggled really badly to become a dentist, and even then, clients were rare and barely enough to survive. Thanks to Splinter’s kindness, they decided to devote his life to helping mutants. He became a pro-mutant activist and takes care of mutant patients without ever compromising their safety. Also they’re a big rabbit fan. They’re just neat. He’s very blunt and honest, and heavily depressed.

Avril and xer twin Amaro Knox work in their grandma's (Anet Knox) Calm Corner Comics shop, and often scare of assholes that try to bother. They are both pro-mutants. Both are Tanako no Ichi fan. Avril is very chill and cool (xey/xer). Amaro is a party guy and always poppin'.

Anet Knox might be a small woman, but she is strong-willed and is a person to respect. She rules her comic shop with an iron fist, and is ready to beat the hell out of anyone disrespectful, despite her grandchildren being there to do so. She’s loudly pro-mutant, and is very happy to see Leo and Donnie whenever they come over for the new Tanako no Ichi manga or some Lynthia’s Legends.

André Murakami is a blind japanese chef, owner of the small but delicious restaurant "Fuyuuran". He was blind from one eye when he was born and fucked up his other eye by running around with a knife as a kid. He's very sweet and pro-mutant.

Renet Tilley is Casey's and April's history teacher, as well as their reference teacher. She is pretty awkward and shy around other adults and tend to relax around teens and younger. Her classes are always interesting and she strives to help her student as best as she can.

Shinigami and Yumiko live together. Shinigami was Karai's nanny and basically raised her. After Saki's death, she talked to Karai calling her sweetheart as she always have and got gutted and thrown out. Thankfully she was saved by one of the clan's cooks, Yumiko. They both ran away from the Foot and they assume they're dead. Since the Foot had always provided for them, they live in extreme poverty, and Yumiko works 5 jobs to try to save up to buy a proper wheelchair for Shinigami.

Baxter Stockman found, one day, a lot of canisters clogging his lab’s water tunnels, and after a few experiments, saw the potential in the mutagene. He sold it to scientists all around the world, and kept some to himself to experiment with. Ethicality and morality didn’t have it’s place in Stockman Entreprises, and it was in the way of progress. However, Baxter knew it was dangerous, and thus took it really badly when he noticed one day the Foot Clan spying on him, and decided to teach them a lesson. Baxter’s main drive is learning and discovering, advancing technology and driving humanity forward, no matter the cost. With global warming and world leaders playing with atomic bombs, time is limited, and Baxter will be the one to save the human race.

Don Vizioso is the nicest guy alive, he's known as the philantropist Vizioso. He would help you pay off your debt, take you under his wing if you're struggling, pay an ice cream to a little kid, shoot a guy that betrayed him 35 times in the head, pay for your college tuition, help fix the fucked up streets, or even give you access to his free hospital he set up in Manhattan ! His employees are helping out everywhere in the city, even if their influence is mainly in Manhattan. Recently, they have been bravely battling the group of thugs named the Purple Dragons, that keep aggressing people and destroying properties. Of course, Vizioso always helps with the reparations, sometimes coming down himself to fix up a wall or entertain the kids. For some reason, people keep coming after him with wild accusations, and these thugs often end up being recruited by the Purple Dragons. Plus, after the city announcement about the existence of monsters in New York, he's taken a stance on protecting New York, and has been bravely fighting back the creatures that keep trashing the city ! What a hero.

(This is the version that Vizioso believes about himself as well as the propaganda)

Don Vizioso is a mafia boss, despite being known by the mass as "the philantropist Vizioso". He would help you pay off your debt, but in return you're indebted in him. He'd take you under his wing, then shove you into a life of crime you can't escape. He would pay an ice cream to a little kid, because that way the shooter on the roof can't get to him. He would shoot a corpse until it's disfigured, and then go after his family. He would pay for your college tuition, and then ask you to kill the dean. He would fix the fucked up streets, and ask a tax from the people to pay for it. He made a free hospital, that actually records everything about you, and steals money every month without you noticing. His goons are looming over the entire city, but Manhattan is what is truly under his control, including the information. A group of resistant was created, called the Purple Dragons, but they are constantly discredited and Vizioso's crimes are pinned on them. Vizioso helps this idea that he's innocent by helping rebuild buildings he destroyed, but not the families he killed. When people realize they've been dupped, and lost everything after trusting Don Vizioso, they go after him, and then join the resistance. The mutants are a menace for his organization, and they won't destroy what took him so long to build. Plus, if he could capture them and sell them, he could make a good buck out of it.

The Purple Dragons are angry people, most of which have been wronged by Don Vizioso, that let their anger known. They are demonized by Don Vizioso and the city, and cast aside. Hun is their leader, driven mostly by anger and resentment. He always feels as if everything is being stolen from him and reacts impulsively and violently, which has often has negative effects in his life. He tries to aim that anger directly onto Vizioso and his energy into taking him down. During the raids to places that would weaken Vizioso, Hun goes wild and is often the reason for the bigger property damage. After hurting his loved ones when he was little however, he is always careful to not hurt people unless they ask/agree to it (like for a spar or he asks people if they want to fight. If they refuse he insists but doesn’t lunge for it anyway), or to defend himself or the people he wants to protect. Only when it’s directly and immediately. The few crimes they do commit in order to fight Vizioso is often the justification for the other, bigger crimes Vizioso commits and pins on them. Hun knows that getting mad at that and being violent back would only make their reputation worse, but he refuses to stay idle or passive in the face of the mafia boss. Hun, Koios Streight (the voice of reason), Nermin (tries to better the reputation of the Purple Dragons and deal with the damage. She's the n°1 reason Hun reigns himself in property damage). Also Koios and Nermin are dating. it's like irrelevant to anything ever. All the purple dragon things they wear is merch from Lynthia's legends (donnie's fav books) because it's about dragons and the color theme is purple.

Miss Chow, Malo and Arune are a little recomposed family. Miss Chow owns a food stall called "Chow's food and drink" in Manhattan. Arune and Miss Chow are married, and each handle a different job for the stall. Miss Chow is the main face and makes the food and such. Arune is usually working on paperwork and taking care of the finances and going to pick up Malo from school… Malo is from Miss Chow's previous marriage. She loves her moms but she's very very shy. She’s also partially deaf, but is able to hear pretty well with her hearing aid. Miss Chow is battling cancer, and thanks to Arune’s incredible talent in handling finances and worming through admnistrative, they’re able to stay afloat and have most of her treatment covered. Arune had a congenital malformation, and due to the fact she spent her entire life disabled and surviving America’s legal system, she really knows her way around their traps.

8-ball needs to feel like she has control over her life, and herself. After 18, her parents pushed her out for her to become independent, but 8-ball struggled and failed to get a job. Desperate and unable to seek refuge at her parents’, she was extremely grateful when a kind man took her in. What she thought was kindness turned out to be abuse, as he used her fragile mental state to control her. His constant pressure to be more beautiful and thinner, and her need to feel like she still belonged to herself led her to the dangerous path of controlling her food. It started small, not allowing any snaks after 2PM, then it became not eating more than once a day, then that one meal became smaller and smaller. It felt good, to be able to control that, to see the changes on her body that at last SHE was making happen. One day, as he hit her, one of her bone broke, due to malnutrition. He realized that his puppet would no longer work, and he left. 8-ball was right back where she started, in a much worse condition. Her control over her life kept slipping away, even with him gone, and it only amplified her need to control her food intake. Then, an evening she looked in the mirror after showering and it hit her like a truck. She was not okay and she needed help. But with no job and barely surviving, she couldn’t afford the help. She had no support group, nothing. So she made one, with other girls that like her were struggling and needed help but couldn’t get any professional one.

She is slowly relearning to eat without the swirl of guilt and horror to appear, but it’s very hard, and set backs happen often. But she’s going to survive it, she’s determined to make it. She wears wigs to hide her falling hair, and contacts because she likes it. Her favorites are the 8 balls ones.

The Turks were originally just a support group for disabled girls to talk about their problem, but it quickly turned into a way for them to expel their anger and sadness at being abandoned by society. It was founded and is being lead by 8-ball (favourite weapon baseball bat), along her two right arms, Aïda (spiky punchy things) who has down syndrome and is tired of being pushed aside, and Ruth (knife hidden in cane), an old black lady that seems fragile but will tear you apart, earning her the nickname “ruthless”. The gang often trashes the city and beat up people that make comments on their appearances. They tag a lot of walls about the city’s abandonment of disabled people and the lack of help and care for them if they do not fit hyper-specific criterias. As well as they are constantly judged due to their disability, leading to an impossibility to get jobs and sometimes even housing. They are led by 8-ball, that cannot fight due to her fragile physical state, but is the voice of their group. As the group gets known, they are being joined by other women, that while not disabled, are victims of societal or domestic abuse, and wishes for things to change. Of course all of this nuance and why the group was created is being pushed aside by medias and they are being labelled as a violent mob gang that only wishes to create anarchy. All their messages through tags are not relayed by the media, and some of them even present 8-ball and her right arms as big strong men (because how else could they have trashed the street ?). They are regularly being stopped by the turtles for hurting people, whenever it goes too far. However the mutants have never stopped them from writing their messages, as long as they didn’t hurt anyone. For a while, the girls abided to the rules, but they are getting tired of their messages disappearing in the wind. They need to do something big. To finally be listened to. Also this women only club does accept trans women, who goes through the same selection as everyone else.

it was originally a support group for women to reunite and talk about their problems and such. now, sure they trash the place but technically that's still the case. It's a support group for women about women discrimination, which includes all women, but it's a support group for women. Like that's just it. It turned into a gang which isn't great, but yeah. Plus it's not like a windmill. There's like questions they ask you before you join and stuff. It's a group that includes everyone that has experiences woman discrimination, and so includes trans women and Ft anything. Of course regardless of gender or build or whatever if you start being an ass you get kicked out

General Blanque is loyal to his country, and after that the world. He will defend it from any threats, and after New York City’s mayor gets attacked by monsters, and the mayor gets convinced to stay inactive, General Blanque decides to act in the shadows, helped by his assistant Lonae. It would take him a while, but he would get rid of these pests, before they fester and grow. He has a plan for a special squad of trained criminals, as he could not use soldiers without being noticed, and he’d grant them immunity if they succeed... Lonae is a model secretary and assistant. Always proper and straight, remembering all the meetings and accommodating her general whenever she can. Dutiful and loyal to a fault, especially to her clan’s leader, Shredder. She’s a wonderful spy, not once suspected by the General. Shredder stays aware of all the political movement happening in New York, without ever giving away her precious asset.

Libby and Harold Lilja own the store “Friendly neighbourhood store”, in the end of Brooklyn, towards Staten Island. Originally both graduate of a science PhD, their paths led them to each other, and in the end, to this little store that is their pride and joy. They met Splinter and the turtles when they were still little, as Splinter was trying to steal for food. The Lilja were the first ones to welcome the mutants with open arms and help them out. They are considered precious allies, despite not being in each others life all that often (not visiting each others houses or anything). Both of them are very outspoken pro-mutants, despite Harold being generally very quiet, and Libby avoiding political discussions.

Oxymary's maker, nicknamed "Ox" by fans. They're a bit fan of non-human creatures, going as far to inspire their main guiding character from a non-human, and then always dressing up as them when they go out. Which is ironic, when you know how anti-mutant they are.

Ox, making the game : "ommmmmg so like monster characters are soooo cool, so mysterious and interesting, and different ! i love how different from us monters are :D" Ox, as soon as they learn about mutants "oh ewwww what the hell is that kill it with fire"

The mayor is sooo important. He's so important you know. A big important man, that needs to be respected. And taken care of because he works soooo hard for this city. A good business man. A big boy. He can yell reaaal loud if you don't listen to him ! So brave ! So imposing ! He's doing soooo well, his mama sure thinks so. She supports him when he goes after the big bad monsters that harmed her baby boy ! Like a superhero.

James Bond is just a guy. He likes animals, and he’s a trans man who had Bond as his last name and just ran with it. He’s the only pro-mutant vetenarian in an anti-mutant clinic, so he keeps a low profile but he helps the turtles when he can. Nothing fancy or big, just a guy doing his part.

#colorcoded #colorcoded au #tmnt #tmnt colorcoded #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt au #tmnt iteration #camilieroart

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edenfenixblogs · 10 months ago

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Some Excerpts As I Read

Reader Note: I have read The Color Purple and would never dismiss the importance of Alice Walker’s work. However, let’s not pretend that she’s too sacred to critique and treat like any other artist who does something racist. Her work to combat anti-black racism and highlight Black American struggles do not permit or excuse when she engages in other forms of bigotry.

I have never seen someone make a public stink about the extraordinarily racist poem, of which the section quoted above is only the tip of that particular racist iceberg.

In fact, I did not even know that Walker had written this horrible “poem” (if you can call an antisemitic diatribe with weird spacing a poem) —despite being very active in leftist spaces for my whole adult AND adolescent life and being an avid reader or both novels and poetry until 2023.

It was brought to my attention when she caught flak for being a TERF, as an incidental aside to prove that she was actually bigoted in several ways. A trait she ALSO shares with JK Rowling.

Look at these headlines. This is what comes up when I search “Alice walker transphobia.” They clearly label her as a TERF. But they do not make the same claim about her identity as BEING an antisemite. It is removed from her. Antisemitism is clearly not the focus here, which is fine. It is older news. These stories are reporting on her more recent bigotry. Cool.

These are the first results that come up when I search “alice walker antisemitism.”

The first result is from The Times of Israel, which makes sense, because that’s a place where a lot of Jews live and a lot of Jews will be upset by the things she wrote. But it also doesn’t make sense, because Walker is American. Why is the FIRST result about her antisemitism from an international newspaper that happens to have a large Jewish readership?

Why is the NYT headline about how Walker feels about her own bigotry, instead of how her Jewish readers feel?

The New York Magazine Article looked interesting so I clicked it. It was interesting. You should read it. It is an Op-Ed written by a Black, Jewish woman named Nylah Burton. Kudos to her. It was important. And non-Jews need to read it. It was written in 2018.

The Atlantic is next and primarily takes on the work of critiquing a different article in the New Yorker which also minimized the importance and harmful impact of antisemitism.

And then things get interesting. Still, on the first page of results, is this juxtaposition.

Among the many striking things here is the fact that the Jerusalem Post is writing from 2023. Al Jazeera is writing from 2019.

If you’ve read any of the above links or text you will note that yes, Alice Walker’s “offense” is indeed antisemitism. It’s not really debatable. She’s done many, many horrifically antisemitic things.

And yet, Al Jazeera jumps in, unprompted, to defend a known antisemite? Why?????? Oh, because she supports Palestine.

Well…perhaps…just maybe…supporters of Palestine shouldn’t want to leap to the defense of antisemites who spout blatant misinformation about the I/P conflict, demonize the Jews they know personally, and trade in antisemitic conspiracy theories.

Unless of course…they don’t care that they are pushing pro-Palestine Jews out of leftist spaces in the first place.

When did it become acceptable for leftists to excuse someone’s bigotry as long as the bigot agrees with you on other stuff?

#Jews Don’t Count #David Baddiel #the Jewish experience #jumblr #antiracism #antisemitism #leftist antisemitism #Alice Walker #anti racism #I dare a goy to reblog this challenge

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sjsmith56 · 15 days ago

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Snowfall, Part 1 - The Lady in Red

Summary: A chance meeting in a coffee shop leads to a date with a writer that goes very well.

Length: 3 K

Characters: Bucky Barnes, named OFC.

Warnings: Bucky feeling somewhat isolated and lonely.

Author notes: This story takes place after FATWS but Bucky is back in New York, isolating himself from everyone except Sam. Thunderbolts and Captain America 4 haven't happened.

The entire month of November had been cold and dreary, in a way that made Bucky feel all of his years. The leaves had turned quickly, seeming to go directly from green to yellow then falling en masse during one of the many chilly, windy, or rainy days that New York experienced more of during this particular month. There was no chance to enjoy autumn, savouring a relaxing walk under the fall colours of the many different trees in the city. Even visits to his favourite coffee shop weren't doing it for him, as everyone who came in didn't seem inclined to relax in the ambience; instead, they quickly placed their orders then hustled out the door to wherever they had to be. It emphasized his own solitary life, leaving him feeling isolated, alone, and unwilling to put himself out there.

On this specific day, Bucky had just sat down in the coffee shop with his plain black coffee, checking the many text messages from Sam, telling him it was still warm in Delacroix and inviting him to stay a while and work on the boat. Although he appreciated the repeated offers, he felt uneasy about accepting them. Maybe it was the realization doing so would feel like running away from the life he was trying to rebuild in Brooklyn, or maybe it was the thought that if he did go, he was accepting that he couldn't make his own life without Sam's help. Plus, Sam was busy training Joaquin in the intricacies of the wing suit and when they were both up in the air, Bucky felt somewhat left behind. Regardless, it was keeping him from making a decision. Placing his phone on the table, he sipped his coffee, then he noticed a woman outside, in the shadow of the outside awning, looking through the window of the coffee shop, before entering and standing in line.

She looked up at the artistically rendered chalk menu board, with a glowing expression on her face, as if she was looking at a masterpiece. What she wore made her stand out; a bright red coat, one that had an inner liner to provide warmth on the transitional days between fall and winter. Compared to the drab brown, black and grey outerwear most of the others wore, she looked stylish. Her small black purse strapped crosswise across her body and knit cap completed the look. When it came to her turn, the cashier looked at her expectantly.

"There's so much to choose from and I don't know the terminology," she began, as the clerk sighed. "Right, people are waiting. A large mochachino and a piece of coffee cake, please."

She gave her name, paid then waited with the others, trying to temper her curiosity at everything, seeming to find just being there enjoyable. Bucky watched, interested in how she seemed to light up the space with her presence. After picking up her order she turned, looking for an empty table or a spot at the window counter, but the place was quite full for a change. Reaching for his phone, he put it inside his jacket then gestured to the empty chair across from him.

"This chair is free," he offered, unsure why he just did that.

"Oh, thank you!" She smiled as she placed her mug on the table, followed by the small paper bag with her coffee cake and unbuttoned her coat, revealing a soft blue sweater over dark jeans. "I'm so new to this. Everyone at home told me that New Yorkers could be rude ... you just proved otherwise."

Sitting down, she picked up her mug and sipped it, nodding her head at the taste, then pulled out her phone, making a notation in her notes app. All through this Bucky observed her with a bit of amusement and curiosity of his own.

"Where's home?" he asked.

She described her small town, about growing up there, then going to college for her teaching degree, returning to teach English in the local high school. Although it was a longer answer than he was expecting, he found himself interested in her descriptive monologue.

"So, you're a teacher?"

"Well, I was," she answered. "It was always a toss-up between teaching and writing. I wrote stories when I was growing up and continued throughout college. Somehow, I found the time to write a book while I was teaching, self published it then submitted it to a literary agent, and they found a publisher. They expect it to do really well, and the original edition is up for an award, so the publisher suggested I write another, and my agent said it was time to turn to writing full time. It was a big decision, but my marriage had ended, so it seemed like a good time to take a chance and move to New York."

"I'm sorry about the marriage but I'm interested about the book," said Bucky. He pulled a battered paperback out of his jacket. "I'm a bit of a reader. Perhaps I've read it."

She told him the name, but he hadn't heard of it. "I'll get a copy of the new edition for you," she offered. "Even sign it, if you want."

It wasn't so much the offer but the way she said it that made his day a little brighter. Talking to her felt as natural as breathing.

"I'm Bucky," he said, offering his right hand to her.

"Leia, like Princess Leia, but my agent and publisher want me to write as Adriana Weller. Having a pseudonym is supposed to discourage stalkers ... you're not a stalker, are you, Bucky?"

"No, but I am infamous." He shifted a little, surprised at the question and that he had answered it without being offended.

"Because of whom you are." She sipped her drink, then leaned towards him and lowered her voice. "I recognized you from the Flag Smashers coverage. You are much nicer looking in person. They always seemed to catch you in a serious moment."

"I have a lot of those," he smirked. "You're very straightforward."

"I didn't offend you, did I? You can't beat around the bush when you teach high school."

"No, not at all." He flashed his smile at her. "I appreciate it."

He felt his phone vibrate and excused himself to look at it. It was Sam wanting to know if he was up to a call. Bucky responded that he was busy at the moment. Leia just smiled and sipped her drink again, while watching the others who came in. She pulled her own phone out and again noted something in an app. When she slipped it back into her purse, she noticed Bucky watching her and smiled shyly.

"I, uh, observe things and write them down before I forget, on the off chance I get inspiration for a character or a moment in a book. I wrote a little note about meeting a polite New Yorker who offered me a seat at his table. No name or description, as I respect your privacy."

"Thank you, but I am from Brooklyn, just sayin'." He said it with a smile that made his eyes crinkle.

"Noted." She looked him in the eye, resting her chin on her hand. "You're easy to talk to. I've been here about 10 days and so far, other than my agent and editor, I've been yelled at by taxi drivers several times for crossing on the light, cat called by creeps who receive an earful from me for their rudeness, or I've been barely tolerated because I'm not quite up to speed yet in this environment."

"It can be like that." Her words spoke a truth that resonated with him, and he made a decision at that moment. "Would you go out for dinner with me? Nothing fancy, just a Brooklyn boy showing a new friend the neighbourhood. You do live near here, right?"

It was her turn to give him a warm smile.

"Dinner? Only if we split the bill. That way there's no obligation on either of us. I have dating horror stories from after my divorce and it's kind of how I roll these days."

"Well, I'm still very much a 40s man, but if you allow me to bring you flowers, we can split the bill. I wouldn't want to end up in your notes as not being flexible."

"That's a fair compromise," she said. "I live a couple of blocks away. Pick me up at 6:30?"

The time was set, she texted him her contact information and they enjoyed each other's company until they finished their drinks. Later, when Bucky walked over to Leia's place from his, which was a few blocks away from the coffee shop in the other direction, he didn't notice the cold, or the cloudy skies. It felt like the old days, before the war, as he sauntered towards the high rise she lived in, looking forward to the date. He carried sunflowers, wrapped for protection from the cold, hoping she would like them. She did, saying they reminded her of the Van Gogh sunflower paintings, which she loved. Her place was nice, bigger than his, felt warm and comfortable, with a view that showed the lights of other highrises. Considering she had only been there a short time; he was surprised she had personalized it so quickly.

"It's mostly just cushions and a few blankets," she said, as she placed the sunflowers in a vase. "Every time I go out, I try to find something to add, although I did bring some things I couldn't give up. The publisher hired some people to deliver them and set them up."

"I like it," he said, looking over her book collection. "You have some good titles here."

"That reminds me," she murmured, producing a hard cover book Reflections on a Small Town. "There's a saying to write what you know, so I wrote a bunch of stories about growing up in a small town; the good, the bad, and the ridiculous. I personalized the message."

He opened the book up to the title page and smiled slightly at the inscription.

To Bucky Barnes, the big-city boy who showed kindness to a small-town girl.

Leia Dunn, aka Adriana Weller

"Hopefully, you'll never have to sell it to pay for life saving surgery. I haven't signed any of the publicity copies with my real name so this copy will be a collectible someday. You know, since I will probably achieve Margaret Atwood status."

Her grin was infectious, and he grinned back.

"Thank you, I'll make sure to take good care of it and not damage the book jacket," he replied. "If you don't mind, I'll leave it here until I bring you back. Are you ready to go?"

He helped her on with her red coat; after admiring the patterned black, gold, and silver tunic she had paired with black jeans to wear. For the walk to the restaurant, she slipped gloves on, then placed her hand inside the crook of Bucky's elbow once they were out on the sidewalk. As they walked it felt even more familiar to him, just like how it felt to go on a date before the war. He pointed out various buildings along the way, managing to come up with an anecdote for each, most of them involving him and Steve. Stopping briefly at a light, he started across while the wait sign was on, joining others who took the opportunity to cross during the gap in traffic. Placing his hand over hers that still grasped his elbow, he stepped off the curb, assuring her it would be safe.

At the restaurant, Bucky opened the door for Leia, allowing her to enter first, then helped her into her chair. After placing their drink and food orders they sat quietly for a moment then she leaned forward.

"I tried on about six different outfits before you arrived," she said. "I don't think I've been this nervous about a date, other than the first one after I split up with my husband."

"I think you look great," he replied. "For a moment I wondered if you were trying to match my arm."

She tilted her head slightly, unsure of what his comment meant. Taking his gloves off he showed her his left hand.

"Wow, it's beautiful." She reached for it, then looked at him for permission, so he took her hand in it. "This is incredible technology. Fully functional, obviously."

"Yeah, I can feel heat, cold, pressure and touch."

Their drinks came and Bucky found himself enthralled at Leia's anecdotes. She shared some stories about teaching, of her thoughts about moving to the city, including her eagerness to explore everything it had to offer. Her expressive manner made it easy for him to open up to her about his own experiences in Wakanda, especially the culture shock of a traumatized city boy thrust into a rural community minus a limb.

They talked, laughed, and commiserated for hours, until their server came with the bill and apologetically asked them to leave, as they had been there for four hours, and they were closing soon. As agreed, they split the bill and the tip, then Bucky helped Leia on with her coat, and they stepped out into the first snowfall of the coming winter. The soft blanket of white had already covered every surface brightening up the dark as the snow reflected the streetlights' glow. With the sounds of the city muffled by the flakes still lazily drifting down they walked back to Leia's place, silently enjoying the presence of the person they were with. Accompanying her up to her floor, Bucky stuck his hands in his pockets, as they stood outside her apartment door, nervously wondering if he should kiss her or not. He really wanted to, but he also didn't want to come across too strongly.

"I had a really good time," she murmured. "You're a very interesting man and I'm glad you offered me a seat at your table."

"Me too." He rubbed the back of his neck as he towered over her. "Would you go out with me again?"

"I would love to." She unlocked the door and stood in the doorway, sensing his hesitation. "I wish you would kiss me."

Removing the glove on his right hand, Bucky gently slid his fingers into her hair, so he was cradling the back of her head, then lowered his lips to hers. The moment they touched, they both knew it would be a great kiss. Leia molded her body to his, wrapping one arm around his waist and the other over his shoulder. As the kiss deepened and their tongues gently tangled together, he was aware of one thing, her. How she tasted, the smell of her hair and a touch of perfume that was subtle yet captivating; and when she whimpered slightly as he increased his hold on her, he didn't want to go.

"Holy cow," she whispered, as they broke apart a little. "It wasn't just me, was it?"

His breath stuttered a little as it came out. "No, I felt it, too." Grazing her jawline with his fingertips he studied her face, then groaned a little. "I shouldn't say this because we just met, but I don't want to leave."

"I don't want you to leave either." Gently, she caressed his cheek. "But ... I have a breakfast meeting at 7 am with the publisher and I'll have to be up at 6 for it, and I've only known you for a few hours."

"It's too soon, isn't it?"

She nodded, then her eyes lit up. "I'm invited to a party on Friday night, kind of a book launch and introduction to bookstore retailers. I can bring a plus one." Her fingers were toying with the buttons on his leather jacket. "It's a suit and tie thing but it's an open bar and ... and I'm not doing anything on Saturday, if you still don't want to leave."

It was an impulsive offer and he felt just as impulsive when he decided to accept it.

"What time should I pick you up?"

"They're sending a car for me at 7:30 so be here before then."

"Alright, I'll see you Friday."

They kissed again, a quick but sweet kiss, then Bucky headed to the elevator. Just as he pushed the down button, he heard his name, and Leia hurried down the hallway with the book she gave him. It had been overlooked in the special moment they shared.

"You forgot this," she said, sounding a little breathless.

This time, the kiss was intense, as they both crushed their lips together, desperately caught in a sweet tussle of taste and sensation. Her hands slipped under his leather jacket, pressing against his back, while he had one hand entwined in her hair, and the other wrapped around her waist. The elevator doors opened to several people witnessing the kiss. One of them shrugged and pressed the close door button. Neither Bucky nor Leia noticed. When they finally broke for air, she gazed up at him, while he smiled softly at her.

"Holy cow," he whispered. "This is Wednesday night, right?" She nodded slowly. "I've heard that patience builds character. I'll be full of it by Friday."

Her giggle filled Bucky with a warmth he hadn't felt since he was a young man. Reaching for the down button, he pressed it again, as Leia waited with him. When the elevator car reached her floor, he backed into it and pressed the main floor button, watching her intently until the doors closed. It was still snowing out, so he stuffed the book inside his jacket, and walked home, thinking of her the entire way.

Part 2>>

Series Masterlist

Please support the author by reblogging.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #buckybarnes original female character #james buchanan barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes romance #buckybarnesshortfic #meet cute #winter

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aylasology · 10 months ago

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rockstar!Robin x reader

(reader is fem)

summary : Oh to be in a rockstar's arms...

warnings : mentions of smoking, drinking, cocaine, SMUT SMUT SMUTTTT

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

• You were sure you had it all figured out, a nice apartment in New York city with your best friends, a stable job, the perfect new yorker life you've been wanting the minute you stepped out your parents's home...

• until, of course, you stepped into a record store. An album and a band catching your attention.

• Take Back The Night - Hellfire

• It wasn't really the name of the band that caught your attention, there were worse names, it wasn't exactly the genre either. It was the girl standing in the front, all tall and lean. Short blonde hair teased up to the nines and bangs that draped like curtains over her blue eyes. Her arms slung on two of her members, one with long curly hair that looked like Kirk Hammett's curls, and one with much shorter hair.

• One vinyl turns into three, which then shifts to five more of the same record in different colors. You were obsessed with their music, more so on the lead singer.

• You soon learn the names of the band members and their respective roles. Robin Buckley on vocals, Eddie Munson on guitar, Steve Harrington on bass, and Dustin Henderson on drums.

• You find out that you're roommate/best friend, is covering an article on Hellfire. Getting backstage passes and two tickets to some band they're opening for.

• Of course you beg him to give you the other ticket and the extra backstage pass.

• For some odd reason you choose to go for a rather revealing look - Long leather boots, a tight red dress, and a leather jacket over it.

• It wasn't hard to keep your eyes on Robin. Wearing flare jeans, a tank top and her heartshaped glasses - a staple in her clothes.

• After the concert, you follow your best friend backstage and into Hellfire's dressing room.

• She couldn't pull her eyes away from you. How sweet and innocent you looked in your little outfit, an innocence she wanted to ruin.

• "And who's this pretty little thing?"

• She invites you to a party of theirs the minute your friend finishes his interview with them. Of course you say yes.

• The party was crowded, filled with musicians and the like. She liked having you around, making sure you were attached to her at all times.

• She definitely gropes your ass while dancing with you omgomgomgomg

• She didn't take it very well when someone pulls you away from her gaze. Some artist chatting away with you. The way her teeth clenched when a giggle erupted from your lips. She wanted that sound to come out because of her and her only.

• She pulls you into her bedroom, pinning you by the frame of the door.

• "You think you can just smile and act cute around some guy? Don't forget why you're here pretty girl."

• She kissed you powerfully, heat boiling up from your core. You moaned into it, she smirked.

• "Good girl..."

• And as much as you needed her to touch you, she pulls away. Opening the door and walking right out.

• You came home that night, lying to your friend that you had gone to a bar.

• And the days pass by so easily, getting free tickets to every gig, going to parties every single night, gaining sweet make out sessions with Robin anywhere and everywhere she wanted to have you.

• It was the 1970s of course, which meant she kissed you in bathrooms, dressing rooms, and bedrooms.

• The first time she touches you, it's after recording their next studio album, you being propped up against the desk. Hands gripped against the equipment as her fingers worked her magic on you.

• "Such a pretty little princess,"

• It's rushed, it's eager, it's hot, it leaves you satisfied right after.

• Right after that, she lets you stay over her apartment for the night

• Of course the second, and the third, and the fourth time she touches you happens there 👁️👁️

• Her touch is sweet, giving, and fucking needy.

• And the way your eyes glint and the way you beg? Gets her so turned on every time.

• But the moment you actually moan? You're just begging for it by then.

• "All this for me? Such a dirty slut..."

• "What was that honey? Use those pretty little lips of yours f'me..."

• She definitely likes sniffing cocaine on your belly, licking the skin once she's finished.

• She'd get on top of you right after, hips straddled on yours as she kissed you. Pushing her tongue in your mouth, letting the taste land on your tongue.

#robin buckley #stranger things #robin buckley stranger things #robin buckley x reader #aylasology #robin buckley x fem!reader #robin buckley fanfiction #robin buckley x reader fanfiction #aylasology4robinbuckley!#robin buckley x reader smut #robin buckley x female reader #robin buckley x you #robin buckley x y/n

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mrs-stans · 3 months ago

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Sebastian Stan describes the 'big reactions' from New Yorkers over his A Different Man transformation: 'I was terrified'

The actor and makeup artist extraordinaire Mike Marino unpack Stan's dramatic prosthetics turn.

By Nick Romano

Sebastian Stan was so determined to work with Oscar-nominated makeup artist Mike Marino on his film A Different Man that the actor was willing to undergo a social and professional experiment.

As Edward, the 42-year-old Marvel star would play an aspiring actor with neurofibromatosis, or NF1 for short, who undergoes an experimental procedure that radically changes his face, only to then emotionally spiral out of control when he loses the part he was born to play to Oswald (Adam Pearson), someone with NF1 who lives a much fuller life than Edward ever led, pre- or post-procedure. Stan needed the man who made Colin Farrell unrecognizable as Oz Cobb for The Batman and HBO’s The Penguin to pull off such a feat.

Since Marino was already busy on Amazon’s The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel, Stan walked the few blocks from his apartment in New York City’s SoHo district to Marino’s home every morning around 4 or 5 a.m. “Then you just wait till they're ready for you on set,” Marino remembers saying to him. On some of those days, Stan would kill time by wandering Manhattan in full makeup until his call time. “I walked up and down Broadway, basically,” Stan, sitting in the New York offices of studio A24, tells Entertainment Weekly. “It was a busy street. I was terrified, but I would just go get a coffee or sit.”

Sebastian Stan is unrecognizable as an actor with facial deformity in trailer for A Different Man

Stan doesn’t consider himself to be a physical actor, and yet his body of work might suggest differently. Even when the costume shoulders the bulk of the transformation, such as playing Tommy Lee in Hulu’s Pam & Tommy, his body language molds to match the look. That skill is especially prominent in A Different Man (playing now in limited release). “Even alone, being able to only look out of one eye and then having one ear more covered immediately changes a lot,” he says of Marino's makeup effects. “It changes how you stand. It changes how far away you are from people, how you look at people. I felt oddly on my back foot more. It's a defensive reaction because you want to be prepared in case something's coming, that you have enough time to react.”

“What we get is such an incredibly passionate, skilled actor that can hide within a true character,” Marino tells EW in a separate conversation on Zoom from his SoHo apartment, part of which serves as the mini studio where Stan’s makeup application occurred. “He would actually now have a chance to live with people's reactions and how they were treating him.”

Want more movie news? Sign up for Entertainment Weekly's free newsletter to get the latest trailers, celebrity interviews, film reviews, and more.

That experience informed Stan’s entire performance, and it became important for him to do so, even outside of the mornings' wait time. He would often stroll away from set on the Upper West Side in between breaks or setups. “New York is pretty evolved in a lot of ways, but I still got some big reactions from people,” he recalls. “Like, ‘Oh s---!’ ‘Oh f---!’ ‘Look at that!’ It was scary to experience. It was hard to experience. I felt powerless in those situations in some way. And, I guess, a lot of that is how Edward feels in the film.”

Sebastian Stan transforms in the discomforting drama A Different Man

Other reactions were less intense, but equally informative. While standing at a stoplight, for instance, Stan noticed the difference between those pedestrians avoiding eye contact completely, compared to those trying to discreetly steal a look or offer him a forced smile — all bystander reactions that director Aaron Schimberg incorporates into the movie. "I don't think it always comes from a bad place," he says. "Sometimes people just want to connect or feel okay. It's actually about their own experience. It's not even about you. It's like they're in that moment feeling something that's funny to them and they're trying to deal with it. They don't know how."

Marino wanted to be involved with A Different Man thanks to his love of the 1980 film The Elephant Man, loosely based on the life of Joseph Merrick, who lived with a facial disfigurement. As a 5-year-old, the movie scared Marino. But as he fell in love with the art of makeup transformations on screen, he came to see it for what it was: "a beautiful" and "touching story," he describes. "That really made an indelible mark on my life."

He would need that motivation for the obstacles that Stan's look on A Different Man prompted. "There were many technical challenges," he recalls. "It is very difficult to do makeup that thick where they have very thick areas. So I had to really balance what was too big, what was too small. I still need the movement of Sebastian to come through. I still need his own face to drive the makeup and not have it look purely like a mask. I studied Adam's photos. I really analyzed him and tried to balance how I can make it work for Sebastian."

Sebastian Stan calls out journalist who refers to his new character with disfigurement as a 'beast'

Stan has another transformative part coming out soon, the buzzed-about and already-controversial performance of young Donald Trump in The Apprentice. Because he's now promoting both that film and A Different Man simultaneously, it's been interesting for him to think about the ways in which he approached both jobs.

"I've been finding strange parallels that I never really thought about," he remarks. "There's some similar themes being explored in terms of truth, self abandonment, denial of reality to some extent. I think these last couple of roles have required a different degree of physicality. One, obviously, is specific, a real person. But I think about that, of course. You have to, because everyone walks differently and everyone carries things in their body differently. Sometimes you gain access in a different way to things by simply changing a physical aspect of yourself."

The greatest compliment he received for that kind of work on A Different Man, even more than the glowing praise he's seen from the critics, came from Pearson's mother. "After she saw the film, she was like, 'All I ever wanted was for someone to walk in his shoes for one day, to know what it's like, and you were able to do that,'" Stan remembers of their exchange. "I came close to that, I guess, in a way, to feel that kind of invasiveness that he probably felt at some point in his life, walking around."

#Sebastian Stan #Entertainment Weekly #A Different Man #Mike Marino #Aaron Schimberg #Adam Pearson #A24 #Interview #mrs-stans

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ieatangstforbreakfast · 1 year ago

Text

“Love you a little too much.”

Pairing ೃ⁀➷ Earth 42! Miles Morales x Fem! Reader

Summary ೃ⁀➷ Lovers have secrets of their own, no matter how much they come to trust each other, whether it be a past mistake or an unspoken trauma. For you and Miles, however, your secrets came in the form of hidden identities— one being a masked vigilante, and the other a mastermind.

Genre ೃ⁀➷ Forbidden love, mutual pining, eventual angst♡

Tags ೃ⁀➷ Both are artists, reader is from a very wealthy family, both are living double lives, underaged smoking, reader is female and uses she/her pronouns, forbidden love (ish?), swearing, daddy issues, mommy issues, reader is unhinged, both are mentally unstable, lots of flirting.

Author's Note ೃ⁀➷ so I kinda switched it up and in this fanfic, reader is the one giving mixed signals.

Chapter 2: The Secrets You Keep

Warning ೃ⁀➷ Profane language, underaged smoking, mixed signals, horrible Spanish, mommy issues.

FIC MASTERLIST

Previous Chapter || Next Chapter

Silvery pavements, busy streets, neon lights, and brick-cold air.

New York never truly rests, as they say. A concrete jungle where dreams were once made of. All of what was once so promising about the Yorker dream was plucked out individually with each passing year; money, careers, romance, and peace. Even now, you try to find the beauty of what was once the New York your mother adored, yet what only stared back was this desolate, tragic dystopia. A city that's fallen to ruin.

As the traffic unknots, Miles gently nudges you to the inner part of the sidewalk— subtly shielding you away from the vehicles.

Gentlemen, your mother used to always say. You'll find them not in the fineness of their clothes, but in the way they treat their women.

You can almost picture her, sitting right in front of you with that sickly sweet grin on her face, pearls hanging from her neck and mascara running down her cheeks. Buried beneath her wedding band was a dying cigarette, to which she pulls to slip in between her lips— taking consecutive sips.

There was almost never a time your mother was a mess.

Almost.

Staring at your mother was like staring into a wretched mirror. You were everything she could've been, and she was all you might become.

There was nothing more frightening than looking into your future and finding nothing promising.

"Hey, that's new." And Miles, yet again, pulls you out of your murky thoughts.

"What is?" You pique, the sight of the city dragged back into your sights. Miles points at the ivy-covered building in front of you. It gleamed in warm colors inside, a sight utterly fitting of the autumn season. Its wide, Palladian windows were embellished with orange curtains and striped green dormers. Atop the roof sat a sign, the name of the establishment written in bold, vermilion cursive. You were lulled by the smell of s'mores, hot chocolate, and pie— all the sweet things that reminded you of your precious childhood memories. It had you standing there, reminiscing over the times that were long gone.

"I think it's a café and a book store. Two in one, pretty neat." Miles mentions, looking over to the sight of you. The store's lights seeped out the windows, its golden hues gleaming over your face, highlighting your lashes. You were too lost in thought to even notice his staring.

"How pretty." You airily whispered.

"Yeah." Miles replies, sights still glued onto you.

His gaze soon lowers, noticing your trembling hands fiddling with the hem of your hoodie— a habit the both of you shared. Hesitantly, he lifts his finger, urging to intertwine it with yours.

"Do you think I can apply as a part-timer there?"

He shoves his hands down his pocket instead.

“You wanna apply?”

“Yeah. I wanna save up for summer.”

He raised a brow. “That’s still next year, though?”

“I’m planning on going on a road trip.” You began, a clear view of your plans surfacing in your mind. “I’m getting my driver’s license next year too, so I really want to make the most of it.”

“Driver’s license?”

“Yeah, I’m sixteen.”

“Damn,” Miles shook his head in amusement. “Y’know, I tend to forget you’re older than me.” He then places his hand next to your temple, aligning it with his shoulder. “And it doesn’t help that you’re… This short.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

And of course, Miles indeed didn’t shut the fuck up.

"… Y’know, I bet you'd walk out on your first day with an arson charge."

The two of you meet gazes once more. Miles looked at you with a dead stare, as if he was serious. "What? You're the one talking shit about wanting to go to jail."

"Yeah, I'm boutta fulfill that part of my checklist after I'm done strangling you."

He raised his brows, subtly amused. "Kinky."

You try to slap his arm, but he manages to dodge your hit. He stares deep into your oh-so-fiery glare, cheeks bursting from laughter.

"Look at'chu, you fight like a munchkin from the wizard of Oz."

Pulling your sleeves up, you ready yourself to brawl. "Yeah? Talk your shit, Tin Woodman."

“Oh, I will talk my shit, lollipop gild.”

Amidst your squabble, you and Miles push and pull against one other, lightly shoving each other off like little kids. Your fingers dig into the cloth of his jacket, gripping against his chest with fingers like steel. Though your little plan of shaking him by the collar is spoiled when an itch suddenly burns your nose. You turn around and sneeze, pulling away from his grasps.

".. God, I hate the cold."

He feigns a grimace, taking a step back. "Eww, germs."

"Shut up, you—“

"Stay away, you bubonic plague virus haver."

As you try to search for a comeback, you feel the same itch burn your nostrils— inevitably putting your words on hold. Miles watches as you placed your icy hands over your mouth, sneezing a couple more times. You could almost feel the cold climb up your arms like a ladder, leaving you a shivering mess. Some sort of heat begins to poke in the back of your neck, as though you were flustered like a little girl with a crush. You pull your sleeves down, stabbing your nails into your palm. Miles takes this moment to go behind you, his hands reaching out to unzip your bag. He probes inside in search of your scarf, the long silk pouring out with the grip of his fingers, like [f/c] bleeding into his palm.

As you sniff, the boy turns to you, gently wrapping the cloth over your neck. You look up, beholding the sight of a serious Miles who was too preoccupied with tying the scarf, mumbling about what's the point of bringing the damn thing if you weren't even gonna use it.

“M’not even gonna get a bless you?” You tease.

“You got me: the biggest blessing of your life. What more do you need?”

You hum. “Lots of sleep and an essential oil bath bomb.”

“The fuck’s an essential oil bath bomb?”

“What I need.”

As he finished, he slowly smoothes out the creases with both palms, looking up to meet your stare.

"… What'chu looking at?"

With an airy laugh, you reply. "Just.. You."

His hands pause, yet they stay on your scarf.

"... Idiot." Miles mumbles, grip tightening. "Stop lookin’ at me like that."

"Like what?"

Like you'd follow me to the end of the earth.

"Like a dumbass." He casually answers, flicking his nails over your forehead. "Now get moving, I’ve gotta get you home.”

Miles look over to the café once more, a hand over your shoulder. Slowly, it slips off and trails down your arm before falling to his side. Instinctually, his finger lifts to reach out for your own, though it drops when he hears a buzz in your pockets.

Despite the amount of times it rang, you simply ignored the damn thing. Eventually you did reach out for it, but without even glancing once at the texts, you set it all on 「☾ Do Not Disturb.」

It was only then, as each street passed, that Miles began noticing how the both of you were slowly exiting Brooklyn's poorest areas and started entering what seemed to be the finer parts of the borough. From skeletal buildings and desolate apartments, colorful brownstones appeared before his eyes— showered in leaves of scarlet and orange. It was the sort of Brooklyn you'd find in the movies, the dreamy sort of Brooklyn it used to be three years ago.

An immediate fresh breath of nostalgia.

There was that tiniest hope that lingered deep inside of him, believing that Brooklyn’s still savable.

Eventually, the both of you spot the local Gristedes down the road, the building growing larger with each step. Miles opted to slow his steps down, just to walk longer with you and yet, you paced hurriedly. He follows the sight of your silhouette prancing around, admiring you from afar. When you can no longer sense him, you turn around and halt your walk, waiting for him to keep up. Miles hurriedly jogs to meet you, humming a sweet tune when a sort of blurry vision clouds his mind.

A piercing pain shoots through his temple, making him wince. For a moment, his vision blurs and spots of red taint his eyes. Suddenly, you appear before him in the midst of a fire— glaring at him with such hatred. Your silhouette appears as a dark burgundy, taking center in a world set ablaze.

You call out his name in the feverish illusion.

"Miles."

He winces, taking a step back.

"Miles!"

Suddenly, he's pulled back into reality with your voice.

There you stood, eyes so riddled with worry.

"... What..?"

"Are you okay?" You walk back to him, placing a hand over his forehead. "Are you sick? What happened?"

He gasps for air, but only once. Seeing you now, looking so worried about him, it was enough confirmation that what he saw was all just a dream.

But what in the hell what was that?

As your hand presses against his cheek, Miles cups over it with his own, following the lead of your voice to find peace. "Sorry," He finally spoke, voice too much of a whisper for you to process. "It’s like I hallucinated or sum.”

You click your tongue. "You just had one hit of vape, man, the fuck you on?”

He mumbles an incoherent explanation, to which you grumble. “Do you need medicine? Maybe I can—“ You frantically turn your head in search of a place. “Maybe we can go somewhere and get you some medicine.”

“I’m fine, ma, don’t get all riled up.”

“You’re hot.”

“I know.”

“Not in that way!”

“Ouch.”

“I’m just– I’m worried about you, Miles.”

“Oh, are you now?” He teased, placing a hand over yours.

Miles gently places your hand down, eventually taking your other and burying them both in his palms. Your hands were much smaller and softer compared to his. Like velvet to leather, a paw to a claw.

He gently squeezed, an urge to hold them forever ringing in his mind. Miles looked up to see you and the way your eyes traveled from his hands, to his chest, up to his chin, and then straight into his gaze.

“Do continue worryin’ about me.” He whispers. “I’m feelin’ very special right now.”

You scrunched your brow, looking up with the softest gaze you ever endowed.

“Oh, is that right?”

“Mhm.”

It was enough to steal the air from his lungs. Of all the things, Miles didn't fear for this to all be a dream, he feared that this would all just be a game to you. Dreams would mean that this wasn't you, but a trickery of his mind— his anxiety. He'd be able to keep you once he wakes up. But since this was real, he'd have to suffer through the pain of either losing you or hating you, none of which were choices he liked.

He found you most confusing at times like these.

Most of the time, you were an open book. Your mouth was unfiltered, whether it be in conveying your emotions or saying the most out of pocket things, but at the same time, you often kept to yourself. He hardly heard anything about your family, your friends, or your life— aside from a few side stories you'd recall in the midst of reminiscing— other than that, you kept a lot of secrets.

And he didn't want to invade your privacy, or overstep your boundaries. He figured you'd tell him someday: the things that would bother you, or the memories that'd make you zone out for a few seconds.

He was too afraid of you finding out who he was. Too afraid of losing you, or hating you.

But moments like these were a detriment to his rationality.

In that icy weather, all that made Miles shiver was you.

“Miles.” You called out his name again. “... I think.. I have to go.”

Unconsciously, he mutters. “Already?”

“We’ll see each other again tomorrow.” You couldn’t help but comfort of him. “I promise.”

Let’s meet in our little place. I won’t call it my home, because home is wherever you go.

He swallows the lump that had formed at his throat, hesitantly releasing your hands. “Okay.” He sighs. “Okay, get home safely.” He detangles your fingers, savoring the warmth of your skin. You pivot your heel to leave, pulling your hood over your head. Miles simply watches as you walk and turn one last time.

“Bring your sketchbook next time, alright?”

He nods. “I will.”

“Buh-bye.” You wave one final time. Miles raised his hand to bid you adieu.

If only you knew.

As you disappear down the block, Miles clutches the notebook carefully hidden in his inner pocket.

It was at that moment, Miles couldn’t help but ponder.

How could I show you my sketchbook when all it’s filled of is you?

Uh, uh, catch me ridin’ like a bitch

Got the six forty-five, catch me ridin’ with my bitch

Uh, long hair, Lana, that’s my bitch

Uh, You can tell by the swagger and the lips, uh

The radio eases down with the volume upon the flick of a finger.

“How was she?”

Snapped from the voice of his uncle, Miles’ head perks up. An icy water bottle flies past Aaron’s hand, tossing it over to Miles as it landed straight into his palms. “Did’ya finally tell her?” He adds, to which the boy slumps deep into his seat and grumbles.

Drenched in sweat and small bruises, Miles took his well-deserved break atop his uncle’s couch— chest rising and falling with each heave, wifebeater all soaked. He squints at the ceiling while lazily popping the cap off the bottle. “I don’t even have to tell her, man. She knows— I know she knows, but I dunno if- if she likes me too or if she’s jus playin’ w’me.” Miles manages to rant in between heavy breaths, mind and body completely exhausted from training. Aaron sits by his side, dragging a towel over his neck.

“Yikes. What makes you think that?”

The cold water smoothly flushes down his throat, easing his fatigue. “She flirts with me more than I flirt with her— damn, I can’t even get a single line in.”

“.. You like a chick that’s got more game than you?” Aaron reiterates, amused by what he’s hearing. He laughs at Miles’ frustrated face, shaking his head. “You sure you’re my nephew, man?”

“Oh, I’ve got game.” The boy defends himself. “I held her hands and everythin’. She’s prolly hella into me too.”

“Or, she just plays the game better than you do.”

“Nah—“ Miles denies, but it makes him think. “Nah, she’s into me. I’m sure of it, but I think she’s kind of like… Denying it or I dunno.”

He recalls the way you scrunched your brows, and looked up at him as though he was all you could ever want to look at. It’s got him zoning out, nibbling on the brim of his bottle like a nervous little pup. Aaron simply shrugs. “I’m just sayin’, Miles, it’s not like y’all are in the Titanic. I don’t see why she wouldn’t go for ya.”

“I mean,” He scavenges for the right words to say. “I mean, what if she’s like.. Not ready or sum?”

“… How old is she?”

“Sixteen.”

Aaron’s head spun in a quick flash. “Sixteen!? Aren’t you fifteen? Damn, now I don’t blame her. You’re a whole kid in her eyes, my man.”

“A ki— a kid!?” He scoffed. “I’d have to squat down just to reach her height— why the hell would she see me as a kid?”

While taking a sip off his bottle, Aaron lifts a finger cautiously. “That,” He spoke in between sips. “That’s the reason why she sees you as a kid.” Miles furrows his brows, completely anonymous to the reason. “You’re too defensive. You should be more suave, my man. Be a gentleman.“ He pulls up a couple moves. “Jazz her like this. The ladies love dancing.”

“You telling me I gotta dance with her or sum?” Chewing on his cheek, he grumbles. “Now, how the hell do I do that?”

Aaron hums.

“You know all about the shoulder touch?”

Tick. Tick. Tick.

Dark halls, hushed voices in a box.

“I’m not having this conversation with you again.”

The chair’s legs screech against the marble as he stands up.

"She's turning sixteen next year, hardly even eighteen, if this gets out— not only would it be harmful for our family reputation, she'll be permanently eradicated from receiving opportunities in the future."

A dead gaze hung in the darkness, eyeing the figure that stood before him stubbornly.

"Your sister is incredibly capable, and she's doing a lot to support our means for the sake of the family."

Tick. Tick. Tick.

"Which is more than what I can say for you, Antonne."

Antonne stood before his father, chin held high and gaze, unyielding. The old man tapped his pen against the mahogany, each tick filling in the spaces between the clock's ticking. Within the spaces, and with each passing second, Antonne stood in the thick tension that filled the office like a soldier keeping his head above water.

The old man’s pen points at him accusingly. "Be happy for her, as she's cleaning up after your mistakes. Who would you be without your sister?”

The boy tenses.

“Do you think you’ll be able to save yourself?”

Antonne stood by the hall, eyes daunt and staring a thousand yards deep into an invisible void. For a while, he shortly allowed his mind to go completely blank. Well, it wasn't entirely blank, it was full— but everything was all blurred together that it was better to think that he was thinking about nothing.

A restless mind paired along with an unfortunately still beating heart.

His head’s piqued when a familiar sound of footsteps begin to permeate amidst the hall. The steady sound of heels thumping against the carpet, like a careful warning to those who stood in her way.

“Antonne,” Her voice calls out. “What are you doing out here?”

Your presence emerges from the shadows like a ghost who’d waited for too long. He steps in front your father’s office door, as if to block your entrance. Parting his lips, he calls for your name.

“… Your job. Are you sure you want to partake in such a thing?”

You raise a brow, understandably befuddled by his sudden disruption.

“I’m going to be honest with you.” He begins. “Our family is not the best. Our money doesn’t come mainly from sanctioned ways although we parade it as though it were. I can forgive all that, but what I can’t forgive is ruining all your potential.”

“I don’t understand. Where is all this coming from?” Your gaze narrows harshly. Though you try to appear genuinely ignorant of what he’s saying, the knowledge of it was enough to make your blood boil. Antonne sighed a deep sigh, a million words pouring into his mind like waves crashing.

“I am simply worried about you,” He claims. “You’ve been handling these affairs since you were thirteen. And it’s unfair for you to handle such things when you’re only fifteen—“

“I’m sixteen.”

“… When you’re only sixteen.”

You scoff. “Do you even have any idea of what I’m doing?”

“.. The job you’re doing, was my job three years ago.” Antonne’s words made you grit your teeth. “I know all about what you do, and I may have failed in what I did— I’m not as smart or as cunning as you— but I’ll never forget how that job ruined me.”

You snicker. “You talk like that, but you want the job to yourself.”

Your brother stiffens, but his face remains ever-so stoic.

“It’s better for you to give the job to me.”

“This is what it’s all about?” Your voice lividly lowers into a hush as you take a step towards him. “You abandoned all your responsibilities, made me carry the hotel for three years, and now that the work’s lighter, you want to take it away from me?”

With each step you take, Antonne soon finds his back pressed against the door, swallowing the lump that had formed at his throat. With one final attempt to get you to listen, he finally pulls.

“Does he know?”

Gesturing over to the fineness of your clothes, the shine of your pearls, Antonne then hissed.

“That boy you meet in Brooklyn. Does he know who you are?”

Visibly startled upon the mention of Miles, your frustration crumbles into caution. Your head turns away, lids twitching. “I’m not quite sure what you’re talking about.” Was your attempt of a lie. Antonne straightened his lips, determined to rekindle his confident stature.

“… How naïve of you.” Antonne seethed. “Do you think father’s going to let this go once he finds out?”

You scoff. “Is that a threat?”

“A warning.” He corrects of you. “Have you forgotten who you are? You’re our family’s only daughter— you’re the face of our family in high society. Not only that, but you’re engaged.”

“I’m sixteen. Fuck you mean ‘engaged’? That engagement’s hardly been processed as a legitimate promise. You and I both know it’s for the sake of shutting up the Fisks, anyway.”

“It’s scandalous.” Antonne spewed with venom on his tongue. “You’re not a kid. You’re two years away from being an adult.” He thrusts an accusing finger into your shoulder blade. “And everyone’s eyes are on you— if people were to ever find out about your little escapade, you’d be ruined.”

“Then cover it up.” You ruthlessly shoot back. “That’s all our family ever does anyway.”

As you try to maneuver past him, Antonne then interjected.

“Then what about that boy? What would he think?”

And that’s enough to make you freeze.

“Would he be able to handle you? You… Don’t forget that he could’ve known someone who was a victim.”

You could almost imagine Miles’ face contorting into disgust upon the unveiling of the truth. An inevitable scene. You’d been trying to run away from the scene like a dog with your tail caught between your legs. Your teeth dig a little too deep into your lips, blood seeping in the corners of your frown. Though you try to keep your composure, the mention of Miles was enough to send you trembling.

“No matter how much you hide it, he’ll learn about your identity sooner or later.”

“He won’t.” Your reply came out haggardly. “He won’t find out.”

“And what makes you so sure?”

Your jaw clenches, eyes bloodshot from exhaustion. You think about throwing something at him, or pulling on his hair— yet you ease your nerves like any other dignified girl.

As if on cue, your father opens the door, exchanging glances between you and your brother, reeking of fresh tobacco and dust.

“What the hell are you two doing, bickering in front of my door?”

His voice is harsh and demeaning, like winter at its worst peak. A voice that haunted you all throughout your younger years, now it was just nothing but another normality to you and your dull days.

“It’s nothing, dad.” You reassure, casting a side-eye at Antonne. “Nothing at all.”

Only then, you pulled the manila folder up to exit the situation. “In regards to the landscaping for the hotel, I have the submissions. I figured we should discuss about it.”

“Right,” He snaps his fingers. “Shall we?”

You leave Antonne in the darkness, shutting the door with a slam.

“God… She’s going to be the death of all of us.”

#miles morales #42 miles morales x reader #miles morales x reader #spiderman astv #astv miles #miles morales x you #miles morales x y/n #42 miles morales #earth 42 miles morales x female reader #earth 42 prowler #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles fluff #earth 42 miles x you #earth 42 miles x reader #fanfic #1610 miles x reader #astv x you #astv x reader #astv x y/n

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ask-daria-morgendorffer · 19 days ago

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LUTUALVERSE WRAP-UP: After the Dance

@askoverlordvox can't sue me for this because this interaction technically doesn't even exist. Looks like The Powers That Be got bored and decided to load more busywork onto me (again) which is why I've been tasked with delivering the all-encompassing Lutualverse Wrap-Up. Come join me on this recap of sad gays and what they're doing on your dashboard. 'Tis the season for Flashbacks, because we have backstories in spades. @ask-sera has been taking @ask-emily-em-emmy on a traumatic trip through Heaven which totally doesn't foreshadow anything going on in the current timeline.

And we can't forget about the love-at-first-bite saga between @exorcist-ava and @exorcist-canine, something that all started when a young, smoke-free Ava rearranges Canine's nose with her teeth for tormenting @seraphim-adina, and then continued when they met again later and vandalized some property in the name of romance and artistic expression. This hectic little love story continues with some second date pole-dancing and ends with Canine accepting Ava's aromanticism by breaking up with her. Young love. Never works out.

@your-favorite-therapist has been busy in the past with helping our resident cousin of the cobra chicken @seraphim-sarai find her mentor and with helping Ava, still (mostly) smoke-free, embrace her inner New Yorker, bringing Ava one step closer to the bushy-browed street rat we all know and (somehow) love.

Another blast from the past to keep an eye on is the first meeting between @sinner-peyton and @ask-sadie-morgan during their living years. Peyton before her character development era? Gee, we all know how that will end.

And now in the current timeline, we have @the-cozy-shark opening for business after a conversation between @zestialmorde and @helluvahotelfan. And because this is a Lutualverse event, we can't have peace for five minutes.

Like any sane person, @ask-kori decides to kidnap and torture Ava, all while Canine and Sarai get kidnapped by the newly appointed Goetia @prince-pruflas as they try to get to the Envy Ring. On that note, I should probably mention that @ask-king-paimon decided to remember that @official-stolas was his son just so he could disown him after the whole trial ordeal. @your-favorite-spyho died but got better, and ends up returning to Hell to commit an act of public indecency with Adina after she comes to take him back. @sinner-obie is hard at work turning Peyton into a decent person through the power of love and sweatpants. On the NRWE-verse side of things, @joyer-is-joy has been hard work trying to build a harem from canon and non-canon entities alike. Why? Hell if I know. I just work here. So that's it for today's fascinating wrap-up. @ask-jane-lane, if you're reading this...

-🤓

#lutualverse #ask daria #lutual #nrwe #ask daria morgendorffer

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literary-illuminati · 2 months ago

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2024 Book Review #56 – Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow by Gabrielle Zevin

At the start of the year, I set out to try and read more proper literature. Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow was not a book I had ever heard of, or by an author I knew anything at all about. But it was on my local bookstore's and local library’s staff pick lists, and has a bunch of awards, and I think showed up on some list of Goodreads recommendations. So 9 months later I finally worked down the list to it and went in totally unprepared and with zero expectations or preconceptions.

The book’s well-written and well-executed, but I can’t say it really worked for me. Or properly, it absolutely was working for the first two thirds or so, but by the end just felt like it lost a lot of the touches that had made it interesting and was just drowning in its own sentimentality.

The book follows Sam and Sadie, two Californian wunderkunds growing up in Los Angelos in the 1980s. They meet in a children’s hospital, where Sam is being treated for a foot the was nearly shattered in a car crash and Sadie is visiting her elder sister as she’s treated for cancer. The two of them instantly begin bonding over playing Super Mario Brothers and begin a friendship and a creative partnership that will - as they grow up and found an artistically and commercially successful video game studio in the late 90s – define the shape of both of their lives, no matter how turbulent and conflicted it at points becomes.

For reasons that probably boil down to the audiobooks my mother played on road trips as a child, I’ve always had a fondness for books that track the broad sweep of a life or lives, zooming out and stretching across the years and decades. So I actually digested this a decent bit more easily than I do a lot of modern litfic that I’ve tried. For the first few hundred pages, it all even holds together very well, bouncing around the timeline and providing childhood episodes and context as it's relevant and making the central relationships compelling and emotionally plausible. Unfortunately a couple of experiments in form (one worked for me, one really didn’t) eat up a lot of page count in the final act, and entirely kill the sense of flow and structure. Not at all helped by the narrative voice losing a lot of its charm and the story growing wholly predictable (and a bit saccharine) in the closing pages.

I say ‘central relationships’ and not ‘relationship’ because describing the book as being about the relationship between Sam and Sadie is just, basically false advertising? Marx – Sam’s college roommate, later Sadie’s boyfriend, the business manager of their video game studio - is for most of the book at least as important a character as the two leads. He’s a much less interesting character – entirely too much of a natural saint, compared to how very flawed and petty Sam and Sadie are both allowed to be – but he’s a key part of the dynamic and most of the book is properly about different permutations of the trio bouncing off of each other. No other character gets a tenth of the focus and exploration of those three, and are really more props for narrative and to incite development than anything else.

The book has (until the end, anyway) a strong narrative voice that I really enjoyed, but which also may have caused me to set my expectations entirely wrong for what the book was actually planning. The only way I can really describe it is that the book reads like one of those New Yorker longreads that are trying very hard to convince you they’re not just rubbernecking some fascinatingly dysfunctional relationships and personal drama among some semi-notable creative figures. Your Bad Art Friends and similar. Deeply opinionated and gossipy, but making a show of seeming detached and objective, always making asides written from the perspective of the modern day and quoting interviews from years later about events as they occur in the narrative. As someone who is a slightly guilty fan of exactly those kind of longreads, it did make for a very fun reading experience.

But it also made me get my hopes up. Which is to say, the early chapters make quite a few references to how latter in life Sam and Sadie wouldn’t be on speaking terms, and how ‘something’ happened at Unfair Games in 2005. I was looking forward to something some messy and newsworthy interpersonal drama of the kind that doesn’t leave either of them (or anyone) looking good. The falling out does occur, but in a way that’s mostly just piles of misunderstandings and a stubborn refusal to communicate from both of them. The company always stays ostensibly together, and things never get much worse than quietly cherished bitterness and a refusal to speak. Which feels very emotionally believable, as incredibly frustrating as it is. The dramatic rupture that happens in 2005, well-

The book’s use of violence always feels slightly unreal. It intrudes on the narrative in ways that, like, they are things that happen, but feel so exaggerated and on-the-nose they took me out of the reading experience, at least a bit. A woman jumps off her balcony to her death and happens to land right in front of a young Sam. His mother stops her car on an LA highway to avoid hitting a dog, and he asks her something that keeps her talking and not moving for the crucial moment before an SUV slams into them, killing her and permanently damaging his foot. And the great end-of-second-act rupture that occurs in 2005 is a pair of homophobic gunmen storming into their office and shooting Marx because their cozy MMO lets gay people get married. Any one would have been fine, but combined they make the illusion of violence as random and capricious wear a bit thin and the writerly artifice underneath a bit too clear, at least for me.

As far as period pieces go – the story isn’t nostalgia bait, but it isn’t not nostalgia bait, either? It’s a few years before my time, so I suppose I just don’t appreciate it properly – the experience of growing up in and living through the late ‘80s through 2000s is one the book cares deeply about replicating. It generally does an excellent job making things feel of-the-moment, if occasionally by having the narrative draw pretty heavy-handed comparisons to what would be different in the present. The aesthetics (fashion, public art and marketing, fads and consumer trends) are all there, and the characters experience them like people to whom they’re novel and trendy. (Personally I could have done with a bit less effort spent describing every single outfit, but if I had memories of what people actually looked like wearing them I might appreciate it more.) It does similar things with LA and (to a far lesser extent) Boston – every other place the book touches on feels vague and a bit unreal, but LA is rendered with a real sense of place and love for the city and it’s little eccentricities.

The area where the book is absolutely nostalgia-bait is video games, and the whole heroic era of rapid changes and improvements to the medium where new boundaries were being crossed every year and a handful of sufficiently talented and dedicated first-time devs could create something genuinely revolutionary. The book even manages the neat trick of making almost every fake game the protagonists create a) plausible for the era and technology and b) actually seem like something I would want to play (less so the Pioneerville MMO created in the final act, as with many things). But I do genuinely want to play Master of Revels quite badly.

The book does share a common failing with what feels like almost every period piece, where by complete coincidence the major characters all conveniently happen to be on the Right Side of History for every really major (that is, from the perspective of the present, character-defining) political issues. This is made a bit more irritating by the fact that despite all being quite radical on the issue of e.g. gay marriage (or just not being even slightly homophobic) from the vantage of the early Bush administration, none of Sadie, Sam or Marx ever even conceive of it as being political.

The book doesn’t conceive of itself as really having politics at all – but again, in the way of a New York Magazine feature where having certain sets of liberal convictions is just a matter of personal decency and morality. A certain unexpressed but present sexual conservativism, a view of class where Sam’s grandparents owning and running a successful restaurant counts as being from the wrong side of the tracks, hyper-conscious of race but without much to really say about it. You’re all familiar with the style, I’m sure.

Anyway yeah, not a bad book by any means, but one that lasted long enough and ended weakly enough to expend any real passion or affection I’d built up for it.

#book review #tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow #gabrielle zevin #literature

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wenclairfamily · 4 months ago

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Literary Essay: The Evolution of Wednesday Addams

Many would like to believe that the famous Wednesday Friday Addams (yes, Friday is her official middle name) simply leaped onto the TV screen fully formed one day as the dark goth icon that she is... but the path to get there is a little longer than one would believe.

Wednesday Addams was created by New Yorker artist: Charles Addams. It's hard to say with absolute certainty where exactly Charles Addams got his inspiration for Wednesday. It certainly didn't come from anyone in his family, as the famous Addams Family creator had no siblings. However many individuals that have done extensive research on Charles Addams' life (including myself) would like to believe that the Addams Family characters were inspired the dark imaginings he had while walking by creepy houses in his home neighborhood of Westfield, New Jersey; along with the local cemetery he spent a great deal of time at alone as well. Preserved local police records also report that young Charles Addams had a few minor rough encounters with the law growing up, so his own anti-establishment nature obviously influenced his characters as well.

A June 1940 drawing of Charles Addams would feature an early proto-Wednesday image of a young girl full of woe trying to having a seemingly normal childhood in a dark gloomy world. Four years later though: the Wednesday Addams we all know would first appear in the New Yorker as the daughter of Morticia, and the sister/partner in crime of Pugsley.

In her earliest appearances: Wednesday was typically never seen doing anything outside her home alone. If she wasn't receiving wonderful affection from her father, she was often out having play time with her brother Pugsley (albeit, their version of play time involved torturing and harming others in their community). Like Charles Addams himself at a young age, Pugsley clearly had a very mischievous side in his early appearances (with Pugsley himself predating Wednesday's first proper appearance). Although upon looking at their early appearances together, one must wonder... did Charles Addams initially create Wednesday just to be a play mate for Pugsley? Or rather... could it be that Wednesday Addams represented the sister/ friend/ partner in crime Charles Addams always wished he had as a boy growing up? It's something we may never truly know for sure.

Originally none of the Addams Family characters were well defined individuals. They were just creepy and cooky recurring characters that Charles Addams drew for the New Yorker. However when it came time to turn his characters into a TV show, Charles Addams wrote up a definitive bible for the Addams Family. It was here that Wednesday's name was finally confirmed, and also that she was more of a solemn quiet girl. She was also described as being imaginative and poetic... although it would take us a few decades to truly see that side of her. However Charles Addams did claim that Wednesday had six toes on one foot; something that hasn't been shown on screen in any modern Addams Family media... yet...

When the 1964 Addams Family TV series premiered, Wednesday Addams was played in live action for the first time by actress Lisa Loring. In this early incarnation, Wednesday was portrayed as a very happy and polite girl who just so happened to ejoy dark macabre activities (such as chopping her dolls heads off, playing with spiders, and seemingly being familiar with seances). Despite the series reportedly not having the bite that Charles Addams had intended (mostly due to how much dark material 1960's TV censors would allow), Wednesday Addams immediately became a recognized pop culture figure.

Despite a decline in Addams Family media in the following two decades after the original TV series ended, everything changed with the 1991 Addams Family film. This time: Wednesday would be portrayed by Christina Ricci, who would give us a unique once in a generation performance. Whether it was to differentiate Wednesday from her typically upbeat family, or it was to give us an unusual goth girl going through the moodiness brought on by puberty: Christina Ricci's Wednesday gave us the iconic goth girl who was cold, deadly, direct, and the definitive outsider who could accomplish any dark task she set her mind to; all the while always refusing to conform to societal norms. It was a performance that not just moody grunge/goth teens of the 1990's could gravitate to... it was a performance that anyone of any generation who has ever felt like an outsider could relate to.

What made Christina Ricci's performance more fascinating though wasn't that she was just a one note gloomy girl. It was the moments where she would show small amounts of emotion (or the very few moments where she displayed great emotion) that informed of us what really made her mind tick. It's a type of balance very few actors of any age can master. After portraying Wednesday in just two films, other actresses would portray Wednesday in future live action projects and additional movies. Meanwhile, more teenage girls than we could ever count would eventually play Wednesday Addams on stage, when an Addams Family musical (that had previously been a Broadway play in the 2000's) would become the most performed musical in American high schools across the USA in the 2010's. Despite many passionate and well meaning portrayals though; there had yet to be one actress that could top the definitive performance Christina Ricci has given us... until 2022 came...

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Enter Jenna Ortega. It's hard to give unique praise for this epic once in existence performance at this point. Whether it was the writing, or legendary director Tim Burton's direction, or it was just all thanks to this actress; Jenna Ortega's portrayal of Wednesday Addams in the super hit: Wednesday TV series, has now become the ultimate definitive portrayal of Wednesday Addams. Jenna Ortega literally did everything that Christina Ricci did right in her portrayal years ago, and somehow pushed that perfection even farther. The deadpan expressions, and the subtle ways Jenna Ortega displays Wednesday's limited and almost conflicting emotions is a fascinating portrayal for the ages. Wednesday Addams is supposed to be an emotionless girl who fails to connect with others... and yet there is so much you see in Jenna Ortega's portrayal of Wednesday every second she is on screen.

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If anything, all of the best parts of what made Wednesday Addams who she is over the decades have been finally distilled into her character in the current streaming series. Her solemn and poetic side Charles Addams first wrote of in the Addams Family character bible is finally fully realized in this show. Wednesday's dark hobbies from the 1960's series are still very much part of her character and back story. Meanwhile the extremely dark gothic style Christina Ricci introduced to the character in the 90's is also built upon and expanded in the new show.

Even Wednesday's relationship with new fan favorite character: Enid Sinclair may have ties to Wednesday Addams' early beginnings. As was said near the beginning of this essay: Wednesday Addams may have been inspired by the imaginary sister or friend that a lonely Charles Addams wished he had while growing up; someone that would always be there by his side as he got up to all kinds of crazy schemes. Fast forward to all these years later: similar to how Charles Addams gave his inner Pugsley the companion he always wished he had, the new Wednesday TV series has provided viewers Enid: the kind of loving companion that so many of us would secretly admit that our inner Wednesday would give anything to have. So in many ways, the new ideas and passion surrounding Wednesday Addams now are not so different than the ideas and passion that brought her into existence in the first place.

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#wednesday #wednesday addams #enid sinclair #addams family #charles addams #jenna ortega #christina ricci #lisa loring

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eretzyisrael · 8 months ago

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by Shiryn Ghermezian

Former Miss Israel Noa Cochva talking to New Yorkers about Israel on May 6, 2024. Photo: Screenshot

Former Miss Israel Noa Cochva was threatened by an antisemitic woman in New York City this week while trying to have peaceful conversations with locals about Israel.

On Monday, Cochva participated in a social experiment with the organization Facts for Peace in which she walked around Washington Square Park in New York City while holding a sign that read, “I’m an IDF [Israel Defense Forces] soldier, ask me anything.” The 25-year-old beauty queen, who represented Israel in the Miss Universe pageant held in Eilat in 2021, was approached by some pro-Israel supporters who hugged her and thanked her for being brave and speaking out in solidarity with the Jewish state. Speaking to an American military officer who stopped to talk with her, Cochva discussed feeling a sense of purpose for serving her country. Cochva served as a combat medic in the ongoing Israel-Hamas war in Gaza.

However, she also received a negative response from other New Yorkers, some of whom called her a “war criminal” and said, “This is f—king stupid. You guys should go home.” When one man asked Cochva,”“How do you sleep at night?” she clapped back: “I sleep really well because I know I’m on the right side of history.”

In a video from the social experiment that was shared on Instagram by both Facts for Peace and Cochva, the former beauty pageant queen could be seen talking to a man on camera when a woman crashed their discussion and said, “Sorry to interrupt, I heard there was a Zionist here.” The same woman lunged at Cochva’s team with a knife, cursed at them, and berated the group by calling them “little Zionists.” She also told Cochva’s cameraman, “My daddy owns your little Jewish b—ch daddy.”

When Cochva’s group invited her to have a conversation with the beauty queen, she avoided the opportunity by giving excuses such as, “No, I only care about being seen” and “I only speak ASL [American Sign Language].” When she asked one man in Cochva’s group for some of his water and he said no, she replied, “Oh, you’re a Zionist. I get it.”

Cochva filmed a video after the incident commenting on what took place and the criticism she faced from Israel-haters. While holding back tears, she told the camera, “I was just trying to have peaceful conversations with them. But it’s a whole different experience to witness something like that. We can’t let things like this happen.”

On Wednesday, the Instagram account Jew Hate Database exposed the knife-wielding woman as Ruby Marzovilla, a graduate of Oberlin College in Ohio who works as a “professional performing artist” and “transformative mediator,” according to her LinkedIn page.

#noa cochva #miss israel #facts for peace #ruby marzovilla

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neoyorzapoteca · 8 months ago

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I had to reframe what success looked like and reframe what I want to be known for. Of course I have wanted the validation that a lot of us seek as writers. The checklist of, “you’re in the New Yorker,” “you’re a bestseller,” all of the things. What if none of that happens? Is the work still valid? Am I nothing if I feel like nobody’s read this book? How do I find a way to channel my own grief of this experience, and alchemize it into something else that’s actually transformative and interesting to me? I get to see the fruits of my labor, and actually people being shifted by it in real time. And that just is so much more significant to me than getting the pat in the back that I’ve longed for from this industry.

Writer and multidisciplinary artist Fariha Róisín on asking yourself what kind of artist you want to be – The Creative Independent

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dd-is-my-guiltypleasure · 5 months ago

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David Duchovny: ‘The X-Files took up my life, but it was a miracle’

It's behind a paywall so if somebody has access I would love to read the article

Update : got it, thanks @aimsies-mctaymellburg

David Duchovny: ‘The X-Files took up my life, but it was a miracle’

As Fox Mulder in the hit sci-fi show, the actor and singer peddled fringe conspiracy theories. Now the 63-year-old says Mulder’s paranoia is everywhere.

In hindsight it wasn’t a great idea for me to kick off an interview with David Duchovny by suggesting that he was a musical dilettante. You’re most likely to know Duchovny, of course, as Fox Mulder, the conspiracy-theory-guzzling FBI agent in The X Files, one of the biggest shows of the Nineties, watched at its peak by 30 million in America alone. Perhaps you saw him as the womanising writer Hank Moody in Californication or the 1960s detective Sam Hodiak in Aquarius. You may even have read some of his five books.

Duchovny, a New Yorker living in Los Angeles, is less known for music, although he’s been making rather decent folk-rock for a decade — songwriting, playing guitar and singing in a honeyed drawl. His 2015 songHell or Highwater has been streamed more than a million times while Layin’ on the Tracks, from 2020, has pointed lyrics about a certain politician (“It’s a killing joke that no one laughs at/ A stupid orange man in a cheap red hat”). He has released three albums, with a fourth due next year, and this month plays Latitude festival in Suffolk and the 2,000-capacity Shepherds Bush Empire in London.

So does the 63-year-old feel that he should no longer be seen as just a musical dabbler? “That’s part of a lazy person’s perception,” he says, bristling slightly. “It’s a lens through which people want to see me. I think music is an innocent art form — you listen to it and you have a response. To bring any kind of baggage to bear on it in the beginning seems to me to be dishonest, but that’s the way things go.”

YouTube clips of recent shows suggest people were having a lovely time, I say. This doesn’t have the soothing effect intended. YouTube footage lingers “because of the horror of the cell phone”, Duchovny says. “It’s a pet peeve of mine.” Is he tempted to ban them at his shows, as artists from Prince to Bob Dylan have? “I don’t know that I can enforce that view on anybody.”

For Duchovny, it’s as much about phones limiting his performance as it is about the audience not living in the moment. “To do something unique or for the first time, to reach for a note or play a different melody — all these are chances you might take if you weren’t inhibited by the fact that somebody is [recording] it,” he says. “You’ve got to be able to fail and the ubiquity of cell phones makes failure scarier than it needs to be.”

Failure is the key to another of his jobs: podcasting. In his series Fail Better, he adroitly interviews guests including Bette Midler, Ben Stiller and Sean Penn about their failures. “I feel like I’ve been failing my entire life,” Duchovny said on launching it in May. That may sound strange from a man with English degrees from Princeton and Yale, who has won a Golden Globe for The X Files and another for Californication.

Is he familiar with Elizabeth Day, the British journalist who has hosted a successful podcast called How to Fail since 2018? When Duchovny announced Fail Better, Day tweeted: “I might invite David Duchovny on @howtofail to discuss his failure to be original.”

“This is the first I’ve heard of it,” he says. “If she wants to be rigorous in her thinking, she would investigate what my approach to failure is. I don’t know what her approach to it is. My sense, since failure is universal, is that there’s room out there for more than one discussion.” This is a rather po-faced response to what seemed like a playful comment from Day, and surprising because Duchovny has a wicked sense of humour. He can also afford to be more magnanimous, given that his podcast is at No 12 in the UK chart and hers is at 54.

Gillian Anderson, his X Files co-star, certainly likes his podcast, writing this week on Instagram that she had listened to all of the episodes and found them “intimate and vulnerable … very smart questions, although I wouldn’t expect anything else from you [David]”.

“It’s very sweet,” Duchovny says. “I will email her and thank her. I’m sure somebody running my social media is … I don’t really like to be on social media.” Later that day his Instagram account replies to Anderson’s post: “Thank you for listening, you have an open invite [to appear on his podcast]!”

That encounter would be worth hearing because his relationship with Anderson is fascinating. Despite their chemistry in The X Files there were rumours of friction — although they looked to be getting on swimmingly when they appeared on Jimmy Kimmel’s talk show in 2016 to publicise the return of the show, which ran for two more seasons.

When asked by Kimmel about frostiness between her and Duchovny in the Nineties, Anderson collapsed into giggles, laid her head in Duchovny’s lap and put any froideur down to the dampness of Vancouver, where the series was shot. Her hair kept going frizzy, she explained, and “for every single take we’d have to stand there and blow dry my hair again”.

“And I got pissed at that?” Duchovny asked.

“Well, I think it added to the tension,” Anderson said.

“It kinda makes me sound like an asshole,” Duchovny replied.

Anderson had nothing to do with him leaving The X Files in 2002, he says now. “That was just me wanting to have a family, but also to try other things. It had kind of taken up my life. There was no animosity with the actual show and the people that I worked with. I am proud of the show — it was culturally central in a way that it’s very hard to do these days in a fragmented landscape. There’s so many lightning-strike aspects to it that I can’t help but think of it as some kind of a miracle.”

The X Files gave conspiracy theories a kind of nobility — “the truth is out there”, as its tagline ran. Now they are more widespread and pernicious. “Mulder’s way of looking at the world was through conspiracy and that was the fringe at that point,” Duchovny says. “It doesn’t seem to be so fringe any more. It’s really the world that [The X Files creator] Chris Carter foresaw happening almost 30 years ago. He’s almost clairvoyant in that case.” Is Duchovny more evidence-based than Mulder? “Not at all. I’m an artist — I am associative-based and I see poetry as science and science as poetry.” So are there some conspiracy theories that he buys into? “No, I’m talking about art. I think conspiracies are mostly just lazy thinking.”

One failure that has shaped Duchovny is that of his marriage to the actress Téa Leoni, who starred in Bad Boys and Deep Impact. They married in 1997 and have a daughter, West, 25, and a son, Kyd, 22, but divorced in 2014. “That darkness does deepen you. It makes you more empathetic and humble,” Duchovny says. One of the themes of his podcast is “the difference between humiliating and humbling. Often we focus on humiliation in our culture. I don’t see any positives coming from humiliation, but I see a lot of them coming from humility.”

One wonders if the reference to humiliation has something to do with Duchovny checking into rehab for sex addiction in 2008. Could him playing the bed-hopping Hank in Californication be a case of art imitating life? “People never tire of trying to figure that out,” he says with a sigh. “But to me, that’s not what acting is about. I don’t look for things that are mirroring my life in any way.”

Well, there are parallels in Reverse the Curse, the 2023 film that Duchovny directed, starred in and adapted from his book Bucky F***ing Dent. He plays a would-be novelist who has “sacrificed his artistic dream to put food on the table”. His father, a publicist, did the same, publishing his debut at 75, the year before he died. The film has some really funny scenes, including one where Marty and his son have a farting competition in a motel room that ends up smelling like “an aquarium that fed a sock”. That may have come from a line in Aquarius where someone says something similar about a police station. “I might have ripped it off, I’m not sure,” Duchovny says. “ You can ask Elizabeth Day about that.”

David Duchovny will perform at Latitude festival, near Southwold on July 25 and 02 Shepherd’s Bush Empire, W12 on July 27

#david duchovny #2024 #well 🙄f*ck the interview #what a douche

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